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girlboybug · 2 years ago

Text

Cinnamon Girl

"there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live."

or the one where joel has trouble explaining how he feels, but has no trouble in showing you. even if it means publicly.

what’s playing 🎧 : cinnamon girl by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 7k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, jealous!joel muahaha, blowjobs, facefucking, fingering, oral f!receiving, semi public sex, unprotected sex, manhandling, orgasm denial, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, multiple orgasms, mirror sex, slight dom/sub dynamics, slight spanking, allusions to handjobs, unspecified age gap, aftercare, joel is bad at words but you bet your ass he talks you through it ;)

TRIGGER WARNINGS : implied/references to fedra killing people, but it's mentioned for like two seconds, joel is very possessive, themes of co-dependency, violence, fighting, blood, if i miss anything that could be triggering pls lmk!!

a/n : this is a pt2 to Shades of Cool, but can be read as a stand alone fic! pls enjoy <;3 @spacelatinos4life

there was no title to the relationship between you and joel. there didn’t need to be. a title describing what the two of you felt for the other person was unneeded, not when you two knew.

you were both sure a person couldn’t feel this way about another without it being mutual. there was no way feelings so strong, so potent, so mind, body, and soul consuming, could ever be one sided.

that’s what you were able to remind yourself on a good day.

joel isn’t the best at articulating himself, his thoughts and emotions get too heavy sometimes. but god, he felt so full of you that he didn’t know how to let the feelings overflow from his mouth and into words.

he let his actions do the talking, he let what he could do for you exist as proof of how he felt. but sometimes, you just needed to hear it directly from him, and he would oblige in the way he could.

joel felt the hands of possession, obsession, and ownership find their way into a deathgrip over his being, something he wasn’t proud of and even tried to avoid, but there’s no avoiding the inevitable. it’s who he is. it’s who he will be, and everything that he is and will be is what you signed up for.

but in this moment, a calmer feeling blankets over his shoulders while he sits on the side of the bed you two shared most nights. he watches you lay flat on your stomach, leg hiked up, mouth slightly agape, with just the tiniest bit of drool pooling from the corner of your lips.

he silences the laugh that escapes, not wanting to embarrass you or cut his gaze on you short. he likes these moments, where he can watch you be at peace. where nothing is wrong, nothing is dangerous or urgent, there’s no rush. it’s just you, and him, and you’re safe.

his calloused fingers fall gently over your cheekbone, curling around your ear and trailing over the curve of your jawline. “c’mon baby, time to get up.” he whispers, and you stir, grumbling something grumpy, and he lets the sound back into his laugh.

“gotta get up little girl, we got things to do today.” he reminds, and you shake your head full of drowsiness. “no we don’t. lay back down with me, please?” even your words sound sleepy, but joel still shakes his head in the face of an irresistible offer.

he moves the covers off of your frame and you groan about the sudden coldness. he shushes you, i know baby i know, he kisses the side of your temple, pulling you up and out of bed, letting you cling onto him.

he picks you up, something you’re usually hesitant to let him do, too insecure about the weight he’d have to lift up, but he’s not a weak man, he can lift his girl.

you’re too tired to care, too comfortable with your arms hanging over his back, head in the crook of his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, almost drifting back to sleep in his arms.

he carries you into the bathroom, setting you down on the counter. he likes taking care of you this way, being gentle with you like you deserve.

he brings a toothbrush to your lips and he brushes your teeth, staring back into the heavy sleep-ridden eyes looking up at him. your legs come around his waist, keeping him close to you. he chuckles to himself at the small actions you do, secretly loving your instinct to always be close.

he lets you spit into the sink and rinse your mouth out, and when you turn back to him, you’re more awake. he kisses your forehead, moving to the side to let you slip off the sink and land on your sock covered feet.

(those socks he promised that he'd get for you? he got them.)

you shift around behind him, leaning your cheek against his broad back, the strong, safe and reliable back you love, remaining a stable place to rest while he brushes his own teeth.

your arms wrap loosely around his waist, pressing a kiss to his clothed back. “love you so much,” you mouth to yourself, not daring to let a sound give life to your words. you want to tell him, want him to know the burning words that sear on your tongue, but again, you refrain.

when he turns back to you, he leans against the sink, his hands resting on your hips. “mornin’” his official greeting to you, and you smile that pretty smile of yours, pushing up on your toes to be closer.

“good morning.” you kiss him and he returns it, holding you by the back of your head, his other hand inching its way down to your ass. he squeezes it, and you giggle in his mouth, pushing at his chest.

he rolls his eyes with a smile, feigning disappointment at your shooing. he pats your bottom, motioning his head towards the kitchen. “made some coffee, want some?” you nod, leaning up to peck his lips appreciatively.

you race into the kitchen, hand still attached to his as he follows behind you, an amused look on his face at the sudden burst of energy that you were very void of just five minutes ago.

you fall into your routine repeated like a sacred mantra. you sit at the table watching him make your mugs of coffee. during his last haul, he found a pink mug, pocketing it to bring home to you, and it quickly became one of your most prized possessions.

he comes back to you, sitting in the chair he always does, sliding your mug to you. you clamber out your chair to sit in his lap, his hand resting over your thigh, keeping you safe and tucked away into him. your head finds its home in the warm pocket of his neck, sipping your sweet coffee in comfortable silence.

–

he drops you off to your assigned work, street cleaning, before he has to go to his, burning the dead bodies that fedra has no issue creating every day. he holds your waist, pulling you in and kissing you a wordless bye, his hand lingering on your waist when he turns to leave.

it took awhile for joel to show you affection in public, and it wasn’t because he was embarrassed, he was a grown man, and if anyone had a problem with him kissing his girl he’d gladly address that, so that wasn’t his hindrance.

joel quite often overthinks himself into bouts of worry, and he found himself scared that if the wrong person saw you two together, saw how strongly he felt for you, you’d be taken from him.

joel was hardly ever scared anymore, there was nothing to fear. he had nothing to fear, it was just himself he had to worry about, and he could handle his own.

but now, he has you.

and with caring for someone as much as he does for you, comes the fear of losing them too, and he hates it, he's scared of it.

so for awhile, affections were scarce, even in private, too wound up in trying to not get too attached, but you tore down his walls, brick by brick, leaving him bare and vulnerable to you.

sometimes, you can still feel that blockage that holds him back, but it’s okay. you have all of time in itself to work through these things, together.

–

you came home before joel did, eager to see him, to be held by him, and talk about your day together. instead, you came home to an empty apartment.

you’re disappointed, joel’s face is the first thing you want to see after every hard day, his rich, southern voice veiled in a smooth gruffness welcoming you home was a reminder that life wasn’t all bad.

you figured he was still busy, a habit of his from even before the outbreak, never went away.

that being the inability to turn down extra work. you wish he would, you wanted more of him, more of his time, more of his presence, his everything.

while working earlier today, you were invited to the bar that had just been finished renovating, the invitation coming from a guy whose name you already forgot.

you were excited by the invite, you never really did much, and you thought it would be something nice to do with joel. but alas, he isn’t home to receive the news.

you pull out a pad of paper, quickly scribbling a note for joel to read before washing the grime of the day off your skin.

you change into clothes you think are nicely suited for a bar, you’re not completely sure, considering you’ve never been inside one.

you think to yourself how you’re actually kind of impressed how people managed to do all of this under fedra’s nose, but you weren’t complaining, people inside the qz deserved a sense of normalcy in this lack of a community.

it was a hefty walk away, which made sense, to have a bar up and running, it’d need to be tucked away from the hands ready to pluck anything semi decent away.

when you were amidst your walk, joel shared your disappointment of coming home with no warm greeting.

he looks around, a frown etching itself over his features, before his glancing lands itself on your note. he inhales deeply, exhaling a loud, irritated huff. the last thing he wanted to do was be near a big group of people, sharing you, sharing your laugh, sharing your stupid jokes, sharing how beautiful you are with undeserving wandering eyes.

he washes up, deciding to just let his hair air dry on the way to the bar. midst his walk, he feels his chest get tight with stress, imagining you on this trek so late at night, and on your own.

he makes a mental note to scold you for that when he sees you.

–

“so,” the man in front of you takes a swig from his third beer. “you got a boyfriend?” he asks, and you get a little stiff, swirling the whiskey in your glass that you’ve been taking pained sips from, the bitter sharp taste was something you did not like. “i have someone,” you confirm, feeling warm at just the mere mention of joel.

“but no boyfriend?” he pushes further and you laugh awkwardly, your eyes looking anywhere but him.

“doesn’t bother me if you do or don’t, we can still have fun either way,” he leans in closer, his hand gliding up the side of your arm. you inch back, moving away from his touch. “it’s… not something we label, but i do have someone, i’m sorry.” you’re trying to be polite, but he doesn’t bite.

“no label? y’know honey, that’s just a man’s way of getting to have his cake and eat it.” he snickers, drinking from his beer. you bring your arms around yourself, feeling defensive. “what's that supposed to mean?” you question, eyes flickering all over him in search of an answer, starting to feel anxiety prickle at your skin.

“when a man doesn’t label somethin’ it’s ‘cause there’s nothing to label, meanin’ he can do what he wants with you and have no obligations holdin’ him down, because there’s nothing there. he can go out and fuck who he wants, because he ain’t got a girl back home.” his words hit you like a gong, a sharp ache penetrating into your chest, twisting the knife and letting it gape open.

“it… isn’t like that,” your voice is failing you, and it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than you are him. he laughs out of pity and you feel small, confidence being forcibly shrunken by his seeds of doubt.

“then where is he? last i checked, you came here all by yourself.” he points out, and your shoulders nearly deflate.

“he’s just busy,” you mutter and he shakes his head holding out his hands with a cocky certainty. “tellin’ ya honey, he’s probably with another girl,” he draws patterns in the wrist of yours that’s holding your glass.

“so what’s the harm in comin’ home with me? we could be somethin’ official, i wouldn’t hide you, who’d wanna hide a pretty girl like you,” his persuasions elicit a sense of nausea from the depths of your stomach, and you back away into the wooden pane behind you, shaking your head.

“there a problem here?” the voice you’ve been craving to hear all night finally finds you, and your head whips up. you breathe out a relieved, joel.

“nah, she’s with me.” the man answers for you, and you shake your head, moving away from him to go to joel. “no, this is who i was talking about.” you introduce joel, and he doesn’t say a thing, just stares down at the man in front of him, a hard glare being shot into his skull.

“so the guy stringing you along is this fuckin’ old man? you gotta be jokin,” and joel inches in, seconds away from bursting. “i suggest you watch your tone,” he warns, and the man sets his beer down, standing up straight now.

you tug on joel’s arm, trying to deescalate the situation, but he wants it to escalate, he wants to fucking hurt the guy in front of him.

“yeah? and the fuck are you gonna do if i don’t?” joel doesn’t need to hear anything else, he leans down, making it a point to emphasize the height difference between the two, and you swallow a giggle at how the man reddens from embarrassment.

joel grips him by his collar, tugging him in close. “i’ll rip your fucking jaw straight off your skull.” he grits out, and you know he means what he says.

“i’d like to see you try asshole.”

you grab at joel’s arm again, let’s just go baby, please you don’t need to do this, you plead with him, but he’s gone deaf with a ringing rage, unable to come down from the anger inside him.

“cmon pussy, hit m-” joel’s fist rises and lands with a heavy, painful impact down into the side of the man’s jaw, and you wince at the sight. he stumbles and falls back into the wooden pane.

the owner of the bar finally comes out, rushing to separate joel away from the man. “hey hey hey, that’s enough, break it up,” the man is lurching at joel and joel just stands proudly, unflinching at the threats spewing from the shorter man’s bloodied mouth.

“i’m so so so sorry, we’ll go, i’m so sorry, i’ll take care of this.” you apologize up and down to the owner, and he sighs, dragging his fingers down the corners of his mouth.

“just get him out of my sight, i’ll take care of this one,” he nods to the man and you agree, leading joel away to the bathroom to cool down.

“fine go ahead and leave with the old man who can’t even get his dick up!” he calls out after you, and you ignore it, but joel can’t.

his arm rips away from your hold, and he surges towards him, pushing past the owner and landing his fist hard into the same place he hit last time, grunting with pride when he hears something crack. everyone around you is frozen, mouths ajar in shock and fear.

“get him out!” the owner yells, jabbing his thumb towards the back exit, and you nod quickly, frantically trying to pull joel off of the man. the people surrounding you hurriedly move aside to let you two pass.

you usher joel into the restroom, locking the door behind you. “joel what the fuck?” the first time you’ve ever raised your voice at him was now, and he stares at you pacing in front of him.

normally, it excites you when joel is fast to your defense, it makes you feel like he cares, but this? this was stupid. this was an opportunity to do something fun and different together, and he most likely just got you two banned.

but what was actually bothering you, were the things that the man said to you. his words continuously buzz around in your head like flies to a carcass.

“what were you doing with him?” his voice is steady, but you hear the anger laced underneath, you hear the silent upward trail of it leading into something else, and you pause to look at him.

“what?” you exhale and he steps forward, jaw clenching and shifting with a trembling indignation. “i said,” he grits out, sore and numb fist landing on the wall behind you. “what the fuck were you doing with him?” he repeats, louder, scarier. you flinch away from him, and he drops his fist, unfolding it by his side, a thrum of guilt strumming inside him at the fearful way you were looking at him.

“he started talking to me, joel. it started off friendly, and then he began making advances towards me, which i shot down.” your eyes are watering, and you angrily wipe them away, upset that you were even crying.

“surprised you even care,” you mutter, already feeling regretful the second the words leave your mouth. he holds you by your chin, forcing you to look at him. “excuse me?” he questions, and you blink away the last few tears from your eyes nervously.

“where were you?” you counter back, and joel raises a brow, folding his arms over his chest. “workin’. like i always am.” his eyes squint confusedly. “what’s this about?”

the pipe that filtered out your frustrations just about burst, and you spurt out all the fears that the man made resurface inside you.

“i told you that all i wanted is to be with you, which is true, and it’s okay that you don’t wanna label whatever this is,” you move your hands between you two.

“and it’s okay that it’s hard for you to even hold my hand in public even though it hurts me, but what’s not okay is lying to me. i-if, if you’re f..fucking someone else i’d rather you just be honest with me.” tears are streaming down your cheeks now, and you’re barely able to speak through the sobs.

joel can’t say anything for a moment, he’s completely taken off guard from how much pain you seem to be in from the fears you’ve been keeping to yourself.

he moves closer to you, his hands on either side of your head when he speaks, leaving you nowhere else to look, but him. “listen to me,” he murmurs, swiping the new dewy drops of tears from your eyes.

“there is no one else. s’just you. i..i don’t look at, think about, or talk to anyone for that matter, that isn’t you. i don’t got the time, effort, or desire, to be near someone that ain’t you. i didn’t even wanna come to this fuckin’ thing but i went because you’re here.” he points at the center of your chest, emphasizing his sentiments.

“you wanna know what you are?” he breathes out against your lips. you nod, hands resting on his shoulders. “you, are mine.” he speaks slowly, deeply, letting his words travel into the farthest places inside you, wanting what he says to resonate in you until it reaches your bones.

you push yourself up as far as you can to reach his lips, pressing yourself to him. he kisses you hard, imprinting himself to you, holding you by the back of your neck.

he drinks in your moans, his hand on your ass keeping you right up against his crotch, bucking into you just that much, getting you to melt in his hold.

you whimper in his mouth when he slides his tongue in, taking you in so roughly.

he can taste the whiskey on you, and he grunts, gripping at your ass before planting a hard smack over it. you yelp in his mouth but he doesn’t let you move away, instead, he pushes you into the wall, cradling your head with his hand when your back connects to the wall.

when you break apart for air, that's when he nudges at your shoulders, lowering you down to your knees. you obey, resting on your knees, looking up at him with those wide pretty eyes of yours.

he caresses your cheek, smiling at the way you mold into his palm. “think i need you to show me you understand me when i say you’re mine.” his sonorous voice, thick in control and sternness lit a flame between your thighs, and you had no problem proving to him that you understood.

you unbuckle his pants, the bulge behind them intimidating you. it’s been awhile since you two have… done anything, mostly just resorting to his fingers buried inside you, and your hand wrapped around him while he fucks your palm.

you’ve never gotten around to doing this, and joel was nowhere near small, the word not even existing in his hemisphere, so this was most definitely going to be quite the feat.

you fish him out his boxers, and you clench down on your teeth with nerves rattling through your being.

he's so thick in girth, you almost can't wrap your whole hand around him, the thought of him shoving himself in your mouth both excites you, and frightens you. but it's a good fear.

it's a challenge.

“wet your hand baby,” he instructs, and you listen, spitting in your palm, feeling warm at the way he says good, all drawn out and deep, it makes you all the more fervid to impress him, to make him feel good.

you jerk him off, hands shaking, but you force yourself to keep them steady for him. you’re using two hands to touch him, a slick sound starting to fill the space around you, reminds of you of the act you’re committing, and it excites you.

you lean forward, enveloping his tip between your lips, letting your hand glide further down while your lips trail along in suit, taking him in as deep as you can.

he shudders out a wavering breath, holding you by the back of your head, not pushing, but instead following the way you bob up and down on his cock.

you take him in further than you thought you could, the stretch of your lips around the thickness of him is a little uncomfortable, but the breathless groans pouring out of him from above you, make all the discomfort go away.

he wants to praise you for being a quick learner, but the words stutter behind his thoughts, jumbling themselves up, the only thing he could think, and feel, was your hot, wet mouth sucking him off, his cock so deep down your throat, his balls were resting at your chin.

your saliva pooled around the corners of your mouth, and he wiped his thumb over it, swiping under your stretched bottom lip that was barely able to form around his shaft.

he turns to the side, looking into the mirror that’s facing you both. the reflection glimmers back to joel, and the cinches in his chest and stomach suddenly get tighter.

he groans at the sight, it’s so fucking dirty, you on your knees, taking his cock as far as it can go, he thinks to himself how sweet his little girl is.

he can't take his eyes off of the vision playing out before him, it's too hypnotizing.

he starts to fuck your mouth, throwing his head back when he hits the back of your throat, pulling a gag from you. he grits his teeth when you gag around him, the sound is so filthy, everything about this is, but he likes it.

he likes the feeling of fucking your poor mouth until your jaw goes sore, because whenever you talk, a little reminder of where he was will be there.

he fixates on the way you’ve found yourself a rhythm, trying your hardest to go along with the way he’s guiding your mouth down his cock, letting him fuck your soft, pliant mouth.

he stares into the mirror, watching as you gag when he shoves his hips forward, grinding into the hot, slick hole your mouth acts as.

your tongue supports the bottom of his shaft, licking the sensitive spot under the head of his cock, and his hips stutter.

he holds your head, pushing in and keeping still, watching you take him in.

“takin’ me down your throat so goddamn good, baby. bet that fuckin’ asshole wishes he could have you like this,” he’s losing himself in the haven of your mouth, the way your watery eyes look up at him, egging him on.

“it’s only ever gonna be me, who fucks your mouth, i’m the only one who’s gonna have you on your knees, gagging around a cock, shit, around my cock,” he’s panting, rambling breathlessly in the peak of his pleasure, adding emphasis on every word with each thrust in your mouth without even thinking about it.

he pulls you off his cock, and you gasp, sputtering while you catch your breath. “repeat,” he orders, slapping the tip of his cock on your cheek.

“you’re the only one who gets to fuck my mouth,” you rasp, your voice already sounding hoarse, and he chuckles darkly, nodding to himself with pride.

he's putting your throat to good use.

he slides back in your mouth, and your hands rest on his hips while you take him. “look at yourself, so fuckin dirty," he grunts under a low guise of a breath. your eyes drift to the side, and they widen. the sight is dirty in the truest form of the word, but you like it too, you like it more than you should.

the thrusts into your mouth start to get faster, and you can barely keep up. “gonna let me cum in your mouth baby?” he breathes out, and you nod around him, unable to give verbal confirmation. “gonna take it all for me,” he pushes in deeper, “gonna swallow it all for me?”

mhmm you moan around him, and that’s all he needs. he fucks into your mouth, hard and fast, before he stills, your teary eyes squeezing shut, trying your best to breathe through your nose.

“shit,” he pants, palm flat against the wall above your head while he cums.

his load is heavy when it goes down your throat, and when he slowly pulls out, he slaps the tip over your tongue, watching his cum drip onto it. he catches his breath while he pulls you up to your feet, keeping you steady when you wobble.

your lips are plump, fat with soreness and he kisses them hard, bruising himself into you.

his hand finds its way between your thighs, he walks forward as he does so, pushing you up against the sink counter. he lowers himself down to you, and you watch with hooded eyes, watching as he lifts up the fabric of your long dress, bunching it up until he reaches your panties.

his chest inflates with a proud sense of vainglory at the wet patch spreading over your underwear.

he traces over it, and you shiver, coiling into him. he kisses, he licks you through your underwear, mouthing over your cunt. he laps at you hungrily, not realizing how starved he was until he latched his mouth on you.

his eyes shut when he tastes you, the way your perfect little clit rolled around on his tongue fueled his addiction to being buried in your cunt, your sweet drawls of cries enabling him further. he circles around your hole before pushing in, keeping your hip still with his free hand from wriggling away.

he lets yourself fuck yourself on his finger, chuckling over your clit, his lips still wrapped around it when you tremble at the way he adds in a second finger.

you raise your leg, leaning on the counter, trying to spread yourself as far as you can for him. your hands fell to the back of his head, grinding into his mouth and fingers, head lolling backward into the mirror.

your chest rises and falls with shaky gasps, his name falling from your bitten lips like it's the only word you know. joel joel joel.

you’re rolling your hips into him desperately, and he takes it all in with stride, moaning into your soaked flesh.

a wet clicking sound echos around the bathroom, and you’re almost embarrassed, it’s just so loud, but you couldn’t help how wet he made you. his knuckles fill you up to the hilt, and you’re tearing up all over again, his crybaby, he’d call you, but he’s too focused on sucking your clit to say anything.

his fingers feel overwhelming inside you, his tongue curling over your clit only making it worse, making you tug and pull at his hair, lifting your ass off the counter to push yourself deeper into his mouth.

he eats your cunt with a purpose, with a drive, but more than anything, he enjoys it. he can't get enough of how fucking good you taste, it turns him on to no end over how dirty it is, having his tongue flick over your pussy, his head between your thighs, trapping him in and nearly suffocating him inside you.

but if he were to die, this is how he’d want to go out, by a lack of air supply from burying his tongue inside your cunt.

he feels you shaking, the roll of your hips has lost it’s rhythm and he looks up at you, head thrown against the mirror, lips agape and crying out his name, chest heaving, and wait, he can see your nipples hardening through your dress, and he wonders if you’ve even got a bra on. his cock twitches at the thought of it.

“you close baby?” he asks you, his words pressing themselves right on your clit, and you whimper, nodding. he presses a wet, sloppy kiss to your cunt before rising back to his tall stature.

you blink through heavy lids, looking at him pleadingly. “why?” you mumble sadly, and he flips you around, pulling you into him with your ass right up against his cock.

he kisses the back of your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“you’re gonna cum when i’m inside you.” he aligns himself with your hole, pushing in with one thrust, holding you by your hips to keep you from stumbling forward from his harsh movements.

he has to slowly inch himself a little further, a little gentler, to get himself fully sheathed in you.

it has been a minute, since he’s had you like this, he thinks to himself. he tugs down the front of your dress, growling to himself when your tits fall out, perched up from the bunched material under them. he pinches at your nipples, slapping at the underside of them.

“no bra? that for me baby or were you planning on showin’ them to someone else?” he grits out, starting to fuck you hard, finding himself getting angry at the image of someone getting to see something that belongs to him, that belongs in his palms.

you shake your head, bouncing forward with each hard thrust he fucked into you with, gripping onto the counter in front of you.

“n-no, no, joel, just for you,” your head rolled back onto his shoulder, but he was fast to grab you by the back of your neck, keeping your head forward.

“look at yourself, and look at who’s fucking you.” he whispers in your ear, his beard tickling at your neck when he speaks, the command in his voice making you shiver.

you struggle to keep your eyes open, but he kept you in place, making sure you were watching yourself get impaled over and over again by the thick length of his cock.

“no one else, is gonna get to be in your pussy like this, understand?” he reminds you of a fact that you don’t need to be reminded of, because never in a million years would you ever let someone have you the way joel does. but you’d be far from truthful if you said you didn’t like hearing him, and feeling him, fuck you as a reminder of who owns you.

“yes, yes joel yes,” you cry, nails raking at the counter. he nips at your neck, his beard leaving a tingly trail over each inch of skin it touches.

the ‘pap pap pap’ from how soaked your cunt is and from how hard he’s thrusting into you bounces off the walls, and you hope dearly that none of the patrons can hear you.

joel seems to read your mind, because he inches near your ear, gruff groans floating all around you. “y’think he can hear us, can hear you gettin’ fucked?” you mewl at his words, never used to how dirty he can be, and you nod dumbly.

“yeah?” he mocks you, but you don’t care, not when you can feel the fat head of his cock rubbing over that little spot in you so good that it almost hurts from how intense it is.

his fingers find your clit, and he rubs those tight circles over it, watching you squeal from the shock of pleasure.

you try to push him away, it was too good and too much all at once, your poor sensitive cunt could only take so much. but you’re not going anywhere, he pulls you in closer, shoves himself in deeper, rubs harder, fucks you faster.

your entire self succumbs to joel, and you take it, it’s all you can do. you watch as your whole body jerks forward with each hard thrust joel delivers, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, being able to see your chest bounce, his wandering hands all over you, squeezing, groping in places that have never been touched before by anyone but him.

your eyes fall to the way his long fingers rub over your clit, and it makes you clench around him.

he tilts his head to the side, resting his chin atop your shoulder, joining you in the voyeurism.

he pushes himself in you, eyes locking onto yours in the mirror, grunting in your ear, plucking your skin into goosebumps in the process.

“these, are mine,” he fondles your chest, and you nod willfully, arching your back into him when he squeezes them. “this,” he raises his hand and spanks the fat of your ass, hard, kissing your shoulder blade when you cry out, running his palm over the sore skin. “is mine,”

his hand cups your cunt, and he shoves himself the deepest he’s been in, and your mouth falls open, a sob leaving past it at the intrusion. “this, is mine.” he fucks you hard and you cry his name, hands clawing desperately all over the sink.

“s’your’s joel, its all yours,” you hiccup through a series of cries. he feels pleased by your answer.

he has an endless amount of pride of getting to have you, the prettiest, sweetest girl, with the tightest cunt he’s ever had, who was so happy, and so proud to be his.

“please, please, can i cum joel? been so good, n’ i need it so bad, can i please?” you’re pleading with him so earnestly, so needy, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to.

“go ahead baby,” he grants you the permission to let go, and it’s the push into your rippling orgasm you needed. you grip at his wrist that’s rubbing your clit, squirming around in his clutch, panting and chanting his name, his favorite sound from you.

your body buzzes with burning tips of hot pleasure pointedly traveling all throughout your limbs, washing you clean with joel.

“so good, babygirl, feel fuckin’ perfect wrapped around me,” he places hard frantic kisses all along your shoulder, pounding into you now spasmodically, unable to keep a steady flow in fluidity of his thrusts, his own orgasm was tiding over him, the waves threatening to crash and soak him whole.

“who’s fucking cunt is this?” he groans forcefully in your ear. “y-your’s, joel, s’all yours,” you whimper, head back against him, your moans falling directly into his ear.

he grunts a sound so palpable, so thick, it makes you whine. he shoves himself in rapidly, before slowing down, pushing in all the way, shuddering out lowly, his head resting beside yours when he cums.

he fucks you slowly, savoring the way you grip onto him, with how stuffed and full you are of him, and his cum.

he pulls out, trying to be gentle, remembering how unpleasant it was for you last time he pulled out.

he turns you around, adjusts your dress back over your chest, leaning forward to place a soft kiss this time, to your lips.

before he puts your dress back down, he lifts it up, looking at your poor abused cunt. he watches his cum leak out of you, and he inhales sharply at the sight.

he pushes it back in, shoving his fingers inside you, and you whimper, grabbing onto his wrist. he quickly puts your underwear back on, looking with a cocky gaze at his slick immediately dampening your panties.

he wipes his fingers with the paper towels behind you, tossing it in the trashcan. he rests his palms on either side of you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, catching your breath. “let’s go home, okay?” you whisper, and he nods, moving his hands back up to your waist to squeeze lovingly.

he holds your hand, interlacing your fingers, guiding you out the restroom.

when you near the exit, the man is stood outside, cigarette in hand, smoking while wincing from the throbbing pain in his jaw.

joel wants to laugh, but he refrains for your sake. you avoid eye contact with him, keeping close to joel, arms wrapped around his toned strong one, but joel isn’t as polite as you.

he makes it a point to ram his shoulder against the other man’s, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “she just finished gettin' my dick up .” he watches with amusement when his mouth parts in shock, anger and jealousy constricting his chest. joel pulls you along, ignoring his yells after him.

there are only a few things that joel finds joy in. you, coffee, and the occasional pettiness. and he seems to have indulged in all three of them today.

–

you two made it back to joel’s, walking in a light silence. you shuffle inside, making a b-line into his bed. he locks the door shut before kicking off his boots. he disappears into the bathroom, grabbing a small towel and wetting it. he comes back to you, parting your legs.

he removes your underwear, sliding it down and letting it hit the floor. he’s gentle while he cleans you up, aware of how sensitive you must be. you watch with wide, adoring pupils, the three words that live on your tongue aching to come out.

he undoes your boots, pulling them off and tossing it where his pair sits. he holds your ankle, his thumb drawing over the bone.

“i’m sorry… about tonight,” you apologize softly.

he shakes his head, scooting closer to sit next to you. “you don’t need to be sweetheart, i...agh, i,” he runs a hand through his hair tiredly.

“i should be. i didn’t mean to make a scene, i’ll try to talk to the owner and settle things so that if you wanna go back, you won’t get kicked out.” your eyebrows pull together in sympathy. “if we both can’t go then i don’t wanna go,” you murmur, sitting up to drape yourself over him.

your fingers run along his jaw, feeling the coarse stubble from his beard.

he holds your wrist, turning his cheek to kiss your palm. he shifts around, his forehead resting on your temple while he kisses the apple of your cheek. “let’s get you changed,” he says gently, and you say nothing, just holding onto his hand until you reach his fingertips when he walks to get you a change of clothes.

he returns with one of his flannels, and a pair of boxers he accidentally shrunk in the wash.

he kneels in front of you, unbuttoning the top buttons of your dress. there we go, he murmurs when you sit up for a moment, allowing him to pull the rest of the fabric from the dress you were sitting on.

he undresses you, and you hold yourself while he unfolds his shirt. he puts it over your head, pulling it down and smiling to himself at the way it hangs off you.

he readies the leg holes of the boxers at your feet, pulling it up and over your hips, running his hands over your soft skin before he pulls the shirt back down to cover you up. he sheds off his jacket, ridding himself of his clothes until he’s left in a wife beater and his boxers.

you scoot to the side of his bed, lifting the cover while patiently waiting for him to join you.

naturally, of course he does. he opens his arms for you, and you curl up in his hold, warm and safe, wrapped up between two strong arms.

you bury yourself in his chest, his scent lulling you into a hazy relaxed state. “joel?” you whisper. “yeah?” he returns, and you close your eyes, nervously fisting at his wife beater.

“i … you know…i...you.” you huff in frustration with yourself, and he stays quiet for awhile, unsure of what you mean before it clicks.

“i know.” you feel the tears about to break through the closed curtains of your lashes, trying to ready yourself for the rejection about to hit. ”i do too, sweetheart. i do too.” and suddenly, you’re letting go of the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding onto.

relief rinses through you, a shining confirmation that you weren’t the only one who felt this way. you were nowhere near alone in that. and now you knew, which is all you ever wanted.

your heart just about soars in your chest, and you have to swallow back the squeals of excitement that want to come out.

you’re still nervous to say it, but it’s okay, this is okay. joel knows what you’re saying, and you know what he is as well. and that’s all you two needed.

“by the way,” he adds, pulling you away from your thoughts. you look up from his chest, resting your forehead on his chin. “what’s up?”

“don’t you go walkin’ on your own that far like that again you hear me?” he chides you and you laugh, rolling your eyes. “alright joel.”

he grumbles, kissing your hairline. “mean it, goddamnit.” you're laughing into the quiet night air and he feels at peace, feels like he can breathe when he hears that soft, happy sound from you.

"baby?" he murmurs, and you kiss his collarbone, humming a sleepy, yes?

"i ain't the most...articulate man, but i just. i want you to know i care. an-and i think of you all the time, even when you're right there beside me, i'm thinkin' about what might be goin' on in that little head of your's, an' when i'm workin' my mind drifts back to you, like it's clockwork." his voice is traveling on a low steady path of smooth warmth, but there's nervousness between the gaps of his words.

he knows he doesn't say how he feels as often as he should, or at all for that matter, but he knows being reminded is important, so he tries, he tries for you.

you raise your head from the safety of his chest, eyes watery and he chuckles, gently grazing your waterline clean of them. "why're you cryin' little girl?" he asks below a whisper.

you hold his wrist, leaning into his caress while you sniffle. "i...i love you so much joel, i love you i love you, i love you. you don't have to say it back, it's okay, but i just have to say it. i love you," you laughed through your sniffling, and he stares at you, his heart growing larger than it has in years, and he almost wants to cry with you.

he leans forward, his hand resting on the side of your neck, his thumb tracing over your jaw. "i love you." he whispers back, a few cracks of sound breaking in from the nerves of finally admitting it, and you squeal, leaping out of his hold to lay on top of him.

you straddle his waist, cupping his face in your hands, his beard tickling at your palms when you lean down and smother him with kisses. mwah mwah mwah is all he can hear through his laughter at your bursting affection.

"alright baby, alright," he chuckles, keeping you steady by your hips. "say it again, please?' you ask softly, eager to hear those perfect, sweet words one more time.

you rest your hands on his chest, leaning forward to listen. he runs his hands up your thighs, tilting his head as he looks at you. "i love you, baby."

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #the last of us smut #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal joel miller

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maoxyi · 4 months ago

Text

To let go (part 8)

“…I wanted to stop him for the future…”

Luffys eyes squeeze shut as he lays his head on Aces shoulder.

“…there’s so many who can help you…”

He doesn’t want to hear them anymore.

“…let’s go home…”

Neither of them.

“Luffy.” He blinks his eyes open slowly but makes no move to sit up. “C’mon Lu, isnt it time to get up?” Ace says to him as Sabo kneels down to look into his sleepy eyes. Luffy thinks about it for a moment. For just a few seconds before pouting. Just being around his brothers makes him feel so small. He feels a childish spark zap through him and it’s almost as though they’re kids again. He pouts and squeezes his eyes closed.

“No.” He replied simply, feeling a bubble of pride in him.

“Now Luffy, you gotta get up.”

“No.”

“Luffy…” Sabo sighs exasperatedly and Ace laughs. He sees his crew on the ship when he opens one eye. He sees Usopp fishing with Chopper as Brook leans over to watch. Sanji hands the girls some beverages and turns to fight Zoro who did absolutely nothing. Franky was chatting with Jinbe and they let out a laugh that’s carried over to him by the breeze. Before he can take a look towards Law, Sabos pouting face comes into view.

“Luffy… my arm is nuuuuuuumb!” Ace complains. Luffy reaches around his brother and pulls him onto the sand earning a loud ‘oof!’ from Ace. Sabo cackles at them but doesn’t count for the fact that Luffy reaches over and drags him to the ground with them. Sabo let’s out a high pitched wail as he flops over his laughing brothers and Luffy has never felt like this. He doesn’t think he’s felt this whole for a long time. This full of pure, clear love for his big family. Pirate king becomes a secondary dream in his mind when he feels his brothers and crew surround him. He wishes this is how it ended. He wishes this was his world. This was the reality he would eventually return to.

“Luffy you’re such an idiot.” Ace chuckles. Luffy snorts at him.

“You’re the bigger idiot.”

“No you.”

“No. You.”

“You both are absolute dumbasses.” Sabo pipes up, as he stares at them. They stick their tongue out to him. Luffy sees Usopp and Chopper look over to them and smile. They wave. He waves back at them. They lay there for a while, bathing in the sun on the Amazon Lily beach. Ace huffs.

“Sabo, you’re heavy.”

“That I am Ace. I am a muscular man after all.”

“Not as much as me though.”

“No, no definitely more than you. I don’t need to be shirtless to show it.”

“…That isn’t the point asshole, get off I am literally suffocating.”

“Good. Die.”

“I just escaped death and here you are trying to kill me again.”

“Yes. Die.” Sabo smiles politely and Luffy howls with laughter as his brothers try to wrestle each other though it was more of Ace flailing to hit Sabo who simply refused to move. He looks up at the sky.

“So… what are you going to do now?” He asks. They both pause and look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… what are Ace and Sabo going to do now? That it’s over basically?”

“Well…” Ace starts and looks at the Sunny. “Pops has decided… to disband the Whitebeard pirates…” Luffy sits up immediately. This… this isn’t good. What should be bizarre is that Whitebeard even survived… but the fact that he himself disbanded them… huh.

“What?”

“It’s true. Of course I asked Marco if they refused. Of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? He told them though. He can’t…” Ace took a deep breath and Sabo sits up off of them. “…He can’t keep going anymore. He can’t keep leading us. He told us that after the close call of Marineford, it- it really showed him, he says, that the old era is over. The new era has risen and he’d rather be alive to witness it.”

“Ace…” Sabo puts his hand on his shoulder. Luffy stares. He’s unsure. Of course this never happened but…

“It’s ok Ace! Your old man is still alive right? That’s all that matters!” He knows there’s no need because he has to leave. He has to go home. He’s forgetting his crew is waiting for him. He’s forgetting. He’s forgetting…

“Yeah I guess… but it’s ok because Marco says that he’s going with him to a place where he knows they’ll be safe. Everyone else told me that…” Ace clears his throat. “That they’ll be ok. That we’ll see each other again soon. They’re going their separate ways.”

“I’m sorry… you didn’t go with them because of me didn’t you…” Luffy looks down. He feels horrible because he doesn’t feel bad about it.

“Nah of course I would stay with you! My little brother needs me! Of course you have your crew but I’m a big brother. It’s what I do.”

“Hey I’m here too!” Sabo pouts before turning to Luffy and smirks. “He was crying by the way. Him and the Whitebeard pirates were crying. So hard.”

“SHUT UP!”

“They were practically wailing and it took three hours for them to hang up.”

“ITS NOT TRUE SHUT UP!”

“It’s true and Whitebeard was laughing so hard. He even told Ace to shut up and hang up already.”

“Oh my goooooooddddddddddd-“

“Sounds about right.”

“LUFFY.”

“Anyways,” Luffy turns to Sabo, completely ignoring Aces glare. “What about you?”

“Well…” Sabo begins and looks into the forest. This felt like deja vu. “I told Dragon I would be spending some time away. There’s something I want to do. He was a little hesitant at first but he heard me out and agreed with me.”

“Oh…” Luffy looks down, regret for not regretting.

“No no, Lu. I decided this.” He looks at Ace who nods. “Actually, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

And Luffy doesn’t know why he’s so scared. He doesn’t know why he shakes slightly. He has to grab his own hand. He’s never been so worried. Never. He isn’t ready for what this fake reality will tell him. He isn’t but… at the end of the day he’s still scared.

“Luffy.” Ace smiles at him with Sabo grinning excitedly. “We wanted to ask you-“

“Can we join you’re crew?”

And Luffy doesn’t think he’d ever be as surprised as he is right now for the rest of his life.

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itwasthereaminuteago · 1 year ago

Text

|| In A Week ||

frank castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: sad, angsty, reader is um... dead, Frank is not dealing well, implied sort-of suicide attempt/lack of care.

I recommend reading the short fic Seeya first if you want to amp up the sadness! 😜

It's been a while since he's been here, usually it was almost everyday without fail but lately…

When he places his hand on the earth it feels warm, but only from the waning afternoon sun. The sky is that heavy, stormy yellow-grey colour now, and as he tilts his head up and closes his eyes he can feel the pressure change in the muggy air.

You loved storms. Told him countless times there was magic in them but damn, he'd swear the magic was all you as you had dragged him out on the balcony and kissed him stupid in the pouring rain.

And then, not long after, God had said no. There would be no more dancing in the storms, no dinners out, no weekend adventures, no more sleepy mornings wrapped up in each other. No more anything for you, for his girl.

Whatever purpose this God had in mind for you, it was done, but he wasn't yet done with Frank.

take me you motherfucking coward, take me.

He wishes so hard that it was the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears instead of the fading of your final breath. He tries picturing the brightness of your eyes and the warmth of your smile, but all he can see is the jolting of your vulnerable body as the bullets ripped through and took you from him.

I'm so sorry, baby. Should've done better by you. It should've been me.

He's not asking for forgiveness as he whispers those words into the soft wind. If you could reach across the void he'd eagerly listen for your punishment, he'd beg you to tell him exactly how to suffer, because he'd do it a million times over and it still wouldn't be enough. It can't ever be enough.

One minute you were there, smiling, laughing, screaming, loving him, and then you just… weren't.

It's okay, I'll see you…

He didn't understand, despite the myriad of lives he's taken he couldn't get his head around how this had happened. How he'd let it. It wasn't supposed to happen to you, you were meant to be different, separate to all of that, untouchable.

He hunches over, his fingers digging hard into the wet soil like you'd just reach up through it and he could bring you back. Or that you'd pull him under with you.

But you don't. His throat closes up, his body shakes but his sobs are muted by the thunder, and tears are lost in the rain.

He presses his fingers first to his lips, then to the letters of your name carved in the headstone.

Seeya.

He leans up against it as comfortably as he can with the way he's bleeding out.

It's over. It won't be that long until he's with you again.

Things are just starting to get murky and go dark when he feels his body being lifted up.

Stop fighting me Frank, I'm trying to help

no…

A weak murmur at first, then louder as he regains consciousness.

"NO! Leave me here, let me be with her! Let me be with her!" Even in his weakened state he's roaring, furious desperation cracking his voice as he's pulled further away from you.

"You know I can't do that."

So then, this was his punishment, to be dragged back into a living hell by the devil. To suffer a life without you in it.

"I'm gonna… kill you," Frank rasps, "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Red."

The devil wasn't for listening, hoisting him over his shoulders and staggering up the hill. "Yeah okay, but later. Gotta get you to a hospital first."

"Just let me fuckin' go Red, let me die. I'm done."

The incessant steady beep of the heart monitor was mocking him. The holes in him now stitched and taped up, proof of life soaking through the stark white dressings.

"Hey." Red says from the corner of the room.

Frank winces. Goddamn fucking self-righteous prick was always interfering. Taking his choice from him. He wanted to wring his neck but the fight in him was quickly draining away as he remembered just why they were here.

"I- I can't, can't do this without her." Frank's voice was quiet and hoarse as it broke. He didn't give a fuck if Red could smell his fucking tears or whatever, he was just full on crying rivers now. It was one thing at least that had been getting easier.

Matt comes closer to the side of the bed.

"She'd want you to live for her, you know that Frank. You're strong, you can survive."

Frank scoffs and shakes his head before wiping tears away. "Sh-she was it for me, made me strong… an' I don't know… she was everything."

Matt's hand is gentle on his shoulder.

"And that's why you have to keep on going, for her. Ask me how I know."

Frank didn't need to, he knew what Red had gone through, brought to a low place he almost hadn't come back from.

Matt sighs, remembering. "It's not easy. It takes time, but you're not alone, and you've got help if you need it."

Frank's in a daze, doesn't know if it's the blood loss or what but he just keeps on shaking his head. "I dunno Red, I dunno."

I'm lost. I'm so lost.

"It's alright, we'll figure it out."

Frank feels gutted out, vacant. Memories of you like they happened yesterday reel through his mind and sting the backs of his eyes like someone has jammed fucking razorblades in there.

Sure, whatever you say Red.

"Yeah, yeah."

#frank castle x reader #frank castle angst #tw: death #sad fic #frank castle fic #Written in breaks at work today

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pullhisteeth · 2 years ago

Note

(Possibly Triggering) Kind of a self comforting request, but could we get a story where the reader has bulimia and Eddie kind of puts the pieces together and tries to help? Like a hurt/comfort fic?

just want to say I love u and u got this <3 been there and I know u will be okay. hopefully this helps you feel a lil better for the time being x

I wrote this from Eddie's pov because I think it fits quite well. :)

cw/tw for eating disorders, vomiting, body image issues, difficult convos. Eddie and reader fight and make up. fem!reader, petnames, angst, fluff. hurt/comfort. [3.3k]

Eddie worries about you. He thinks it's normal, and he's sure you'd agree; he can't help it and doesn't wish to stop. He worries about you walking home from work at dusk, worries about you when you're out with friends, bar-hopping in downtown Hawkins, worries about you when you don't get dinner because work ran over and you want to sleep. He also knows you're an adult who can take care of herself so he worries from afar most days, but today he can't let it go.

So far, since you arrived at his trailer four and a half hours ago, he's asked you if you're okay seventeen times. The last one was an hour ago, when you snapped at him to stop.

You've just finished a six-day work week and now you're dozing on his lap while he reads a book, fingers carding through your hair. He's soothed by the almost imperceptible sound of your breathing and the feeling of your chest expanding and deflating beside his thigh, so he's very content to stay where he is and let you get some rest. You never snap at him. He thinks you must be tired.

Eventually he feels you stir, twisting round so you're on your back, head still resting on his lap so you can look up at him. He peeks down at you over the top of his book and it makes you giggle, a broken, sleepy laugh that he can't help but smile at. You rub your eyes and reach past your head to stretch, arching your back off the bed and sighing.

"Good sleep?" he asks softly, turning down the corner of his page and closing the book. He drops it unceremoniously on the bed beside your hip.

You hum in response and he takes it as an affirmative. His hand, fingers splayed, moves to rest on your stomach under your shirt, and you wince and laugh again at the contact.

"Your hands are so fucking cold!"

"Sorry," he says through a grin, slightly disingenuous. "You are boiling. My own personal furnace."

"Mm," you hum happily. You're in a good mood, clearly better for the hour of sleep. "What're you readin'?"

You reach beside you and take the book, bringing it over your head to squint through sleep-fuzzy eyes at the cover. As his hand smooths up and down your stomach, he begins to tell you.

"Mike let me borrow it. It's a fantasy series, he said it's really good."

"Hm, it looks like a Mike book."

"What does that mean?!" he laughs, incredulous at your insinuation.

"I dunno, it just looks like those graphic novels you guys read."

He can't argue with that; the cover is a vibrant cacophony of mythical creatures, treasure and dungeons and fire.

"Well, it's good so far," he says playfully, snatching the book from you and hanging it out of reach. You squirm to take it back, arms extended up, giggling when his splayed hand inches up and digs into your side.

"C'mon," he says, throwing the book to the other side of the room and ignoring your teasing protests at his abuse of something so precious. "We gotta have some dinner."

You physically deflate when he says this, and the worry creeps back, settling uncomfortably under his skin. He watches your arched back lie flat against his bed and the smile lines disappear from beside your eyes. On your stomach his hand resumes its soothing, this time partly for you but partly for himself, too.

"What d'ya wanna eat?" he tries, dodging your body language and hoping he's misreading it.

You hum again, a sad and uncertain sound, before saying, "not that hungry."

"Oh, come on," he says, hoping his tone is playful enough that you don't notice that he's playing a part. "You've not eaten all day."

Groaning, you roll over and look away from him. Now he can only see the back of your head and the side of your face, but even then he can still make out the disgruntled look on it. His hand is on your side, where it slid as you turned over, so he continues his attempt to soothe you while he tries again.

"How 'bout some fries? Got some in the freezer, I can just shove 'em in the oven."

He listens to your breathing as you fail to answer him, and wills himself to not get frustrated. This has happened before, your tendency to avoid this conversation, and even when he's tried to ask why he gets nowhere. Over the many months you've been together, plenty of which you've spent almost living with each other, he's not failed to notice the strange ways you interact with food, and slowly but surely he's been piecing it together.

He also knows this is something you have to come to him about, so he'll wait for you. Forever, if he has to. And while he does, he just wants you to get some decent meals in.

Finally, you roll back over and look at him. Your expression is strange, almost sad but also smooth and there are no worry lines. He hopes this is because he's calmed you down.

"Okay," you say, smiling, and his heart does a skip. "Fries sound great."

He leans down, one hand back on your stomach and the other in your hair, and kisses you. It's stilly and awkward because you're at a ninety-degree angle, but he dots more up your nose and across your forehead, relishing in your light giggles.

"Up ya get," he demands, hands creeping underneath you to push you up and off his lap. As he slides out from under you and swings his legs round to stand, you let yourself flop back down onto his bed, into the warm indent he left behind. He watches you curl up in a ball on your side and dramatically shove your face into the comforter, sniffing loudly with your nose scrunched.

"You're so fucking weird," he declares as he stands over you with his hands on his hips. You look up at him, pouting, batting your eyelashes. "And beautiful, of course," he adds, grinning. He leans down again and kisses your cheek, lingering for a second to feel you smile. You reach up and hold the side of his face, thumb on the apple of his cheek.

When he stands back up, he shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and says, "you stay there, I'll give ya a shout when they're done, okay?"

"Okay," you respond, wriggling to get comfortable and shutting your eyes again. He leaves you be, closing the door softly behind himself, though not before stealing a look at you splayed on his bed dozing off.

He busies himself with dinner, putting some fries from the freezer into the oven. He tries his hand at cooking some vegetables, too, because he wants you to have some balance. As he chops carrots and broccoli and fills a pan with water for boiling, he thinks about the fact that he has never before in his life felt this dedicated to another person. He doesn't feel like what he imagines parents feel like, but he does want you to have the best of everything, all the time. It's a strangely comforting realisation.

As everything cooks, he creeps back across the trailer to his room, where he prises open the door and treads inside quietly. You're asleep again, uncurled somewhat from the ball he'd left you in. He watches you for a moment, enjoying how peaceful you are, face squished into the comforter and hair all over the place.

He steps over to the other side of the room and finds the book he'd thrown earlier. Picking it up, he leaves the room and retakes his spot on the counter by the stove.

He only gets one more chapter in before the timer dings. He drains the vegetables and plates them with the chips on two plates, giving you a few more for good measure, and then he returns to his room to gently shake you awake.

When you stir and attempt to grumpily protest, he says, "food's ready, c'mon."

You stretch again, like a cat basking in the sun, and get off the bed slowly, rubbing your eyes. You follow him to the kitchen and he watches you as your hunger seems to take over. Sitting down at the table, you say, "thanks, Eds," and start eating, seemingly without thinking – vegetables first, as always. He eats too, though always with his eye on you.

When you get halfway through the chips, he sees your expression change. It shifts from a peaceful one to one that is unmistakably uncomfortable, though you carry on, stealing worried glances at him every now and then.

"Okay?" he asks fondly, hand laid on the table for you, an offering. You don't take it, though.

You hum and put your fork down. Wordlessly, he takes both plates and sets them on the side, while you get up and take a seat on the couch. He can tell there's something bothering you but chooses to let you come to him, so he just joins you, switching the TV on as he passes it on his way. He wraps you in one arm and you settle, still silent, into his side, watching whatever mindless show is playing.

A few minutes pass of this quiet, and though he doesn't mind, he, of course, worries.

You wriggle out from beside him and stand, saying "be back in a sec."

He watches you head to the bathroom and shut the door. Willing himself to leave you alone, he tries to focus on the television. But you don't come back, and after a few minutes he decides he'll busy himself with the dishes.

And then he finishes the dishes, and you're still in the bathroom, so he reads some more, perched back on the kitchen counter.

But after another chapter, you're still in there.

So he gives in.

Knocking softly, he murmurs, "you okay in there?"

He hears some shuffling, and the sound of the toilet lid closing and the flush. And then you say, loudly, "yes, Eddie, I'm fine thanks," with a sharpness that makes him wince. That same sharpness as earlier, when he'd asked you if you were okay for the seventeenth time.

Except this time, he's not taking a lie for an answer.

"Honey, I know something's wrong. Talk to me."

You're silent on the other side. He knows this silence; this is you thinking.

He waits on the other side of the door for you. It takes you a couple of minutes but he breathes a sigh when he hears the lock click. You peek out from behind the door and he feels his stomach drop when he sees your eyes.

You're all blotchy, skin wet and raw, and it's very clear you've been crying.

"What's going on?" he says quietly. "Please talk to me."

You sigh, close your eyes, and open the door slowly. He makes room for you to come out and, turning the light off on your way, you stand in front of him and look down at your hands.

"I can't," you say, voice pained.

"Why though? It's only me," he responds, voice equally as sad.

"Eddie, I just can't, I don't know, I-"

"I'm not taking that. It's what I'm here for, I want to look after you."

"I don't need you to look after me," you say coldly.

"Oh, don't give me that."

"I don't, though."

"Yes you do," he insists.

"No, I don't."

"You clearly do."

"Stop being mean."

"It's okay," he urges you.

"No, it's not."

"It's okay," he repeats.

"Eddie, stop it."

"It's okay to need looking after, you know."

"No, it's not! I'm an adult, I should be able to eat a fucking meal and not throw it back up afterwards," you snap.

Eddie doesn't say anything. He can't, too stunned by your confession.

Scrunching your face when you realise what you've admitted, you push past him with your shoulder and a groan.

"Stop," he says, holding his arm out for you but you're too quick for him, striding through the living room to his bedroom. Hot on your heels he follows you and wedges himself between the door and the frame as you try to shut it.

You're crying now, and he's nearly there himself because this is his fault.

"Please just let me help," he pleads, letting himself in and standing on the side of the bed closest to the door. You're around the other side, facing him, hiding your face in your hands. "I want to know what I can do."

"There's nothing you can do," you say through wet hiccups.

"I can listen," he tells you. And he means it – it's all he wants to do.

You heave a deep breath and lower your hands. He nearly falls to his knees when he really sees you, your tired eyes and wet face, but he holds his resolve and stands patiently.

You sit, giving up, back to him. He sits too, with his back to you, knowing that if you wanted to you could ask him to turn around, or sit next to him. Perhaps not having to look at him will make it a bit easier for you.

"I can't do this," you sigh behind him. He feels his heart break at the break in your voice, but focuses on listening to you.

"It's just me, baby," he says. "I'll wait here 'til you can."

The bed bounces beside him as you flop down on your back, the same way you did earlier – only this time you're exasperated, groaning. There's no giddiness, no giggles. He hates it.

"It's been happening for years," you tell him.

"What has?"

You're quiet for a minute, before you say, "me being sick after I eat."

"You make yourself sick, right?"

He's been looking straight ahead, but now he twists to look down at you. Around your head your hair's splayed everywhere and even when your eyes are all red round the edges and swollen, he thinks you look like an angel.

Toying with your hair, his fingers dance their way to your scalp, where they rest on your forehead. Between your brows he smooths the skin that's scrunched in concentration and feels you relax ever so slightly under his touch.

"Yeah," you sigh. "I wish I could stop."

"How long's it been goin' on?"

"A few years. On an' off since I was, like, fourteen."

"That's so long," he says. And then he tries, "Ever had help for it?"

"Once," you answer, "in high school. Worked for a bit but it started again when I left."

"I love you," he reminds you.

"Love you too," you say back, letting your eyes close and keening into his hand where it now rests on the side of your face. "Sorry I never told you."

"It's okay," he assures you.

"I shoulda said something, instead of sneakin' off after meals."

"It's okay, really. Just glad I know now."

After a beat, you say, "I've never told anyone before. Except the therapist, obviously."

"I'm honoured," he says with a low laugh, though he means it. "You're the most important thing to me, ever. I'll do whatever ya need."

You reach up and hold his wrist, and use it to pull yourself up to spin round and sit next to him. Resting your cheek in his shoulder, you hum, and he brings his arm around you, smoothing it up and down your arm.

"Wanna eat anythin' else?"

"Hm, no. Can we go out for breakfast, though?"

"Sure can, sugar. Benny's?"

"Yes please," you say, grinning. Bringing your legs up, you swing one over Eddie's thighs so you're straddling him, and wrap your arms around his neck.

"Thank you," you murmur into his neck. The vibration tickles and he squirms underneath you. Bringing his arms around your middle, he squeezes back.

"Nothin' to thank me for, baby."

You pull back and hold his face in your hands, surveying his face with a funny expression.

"What?"

"How'd I land such a handsome-" You kiss his face to punctuate each word. "-Smart, kind, brilliant boyfriend?"

"Dunno," he responds, kissing back. "Same as I dunno how I landed a gorgeous, brave, perfect girlfriend."

You kiss the skin under his ear and again on his jaw.

"Wanna go to bed?" he whispers as you look at him. Your faces are an inch apart, so you rest your forehead on his and close your eyes.

"Yeah," you breathe, the air warm on his face, and he can't help but chase it and lean in to kiss you. He does so softly, feather-light, and when you break away you say, "don't, I probably taste gross."

"Don't care," he replies, kissing you again, warm and like home.

"Seriously, Eds," you giggle against his mouth, pushing firm palms on his chest. "I gotta brush my teeth."

"Nuh-uh," he says loudly, gripping you hard around your waist with his arms. "Hold on," he warns. With all his might he lifts you, with his hands slid under your thighs, as he stands. When he does he wobbles a bit, making both of you laugh into each other's mouths, and as he regains his balance he walks you across the room. You kiss sloppy, happy marks down his neck and across his shoulder through his tattered old t-shirt, while he makes his way to the bathroom where he sits you on the lid of the toilet.

Once he's rinsed it and added toothpaste, he hands you your toothbrush and does the same to his own. You stand there in relative silence, brushing until you're satisfied. When you spit in the bowl he jabs your side and you make eye contact in the mirror, where he makes to spit into your hair. You wriggle away, squealing, hands covering the crown of your head, and he laughs as he stands back up, rinsing both brushes again and replacing them in the cup. After a routine splash of water to your face, which you swat away as always, he takes your hand and follows you back to the bedroom.

"Love you," he tells you as you lie in bed, slotted into one another.

There are a thousand other things he wishes he could tell you, too, like how he's pretty sure he'd be dead in a ditch somewhere if it weren't for you, because he can't seem to keep his own head screwed on right most days; like the fact that even though you hate him telling you this, he loves nothing more than when he comes home from a gig to find you asleep, mouth hanging open, drooling all over his pillows; and like the fact that he's certain now that this is all that he wants, forever, and that he knows he's gonna marry you.

Maybe he will tell you that one. One day.

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loveydoveylex · 9 months ago

Text

Good Morning Sunlight

Still not quite used to life in the Glade of Dreams, Lex wakes up and has some trouble taking everything in. Raylex sweetness that I forgot to post. <3 1.026 words. Also on AO3!

The early hours of the morning were starting to creep up on the Glade of Dreams, as its two suns rose to provide warmth and light to all of its inhabitants. Many creatures had already awoken from their slumber, pacing through the greenery of the jungles and forests to start their daily errands.

This, of course, was far from the case for two limbless lovers, who were tangled up together in a sleepy cuddle, covered in soft, fluffy blankets amidst the tall grass surrounding them.

The blankets in question–all of which had various warm, muted colors and were decorated with nature-inspired patterns–had been handknitted by Betilla the Fairy, given to them as a present on their wedding day. Perfect for a couple of sleepyheads.

The shorter of the two–that being Lex, of course, the alien Stargazer–faintly mumbled some incomprehensible gibberish, lost in whatever he was currently dreaming about. His grip on his lover–Rayman, who else?–tightened in his sleep, as he clung onto him like a koala bear.

As the morning began to set in, Lums illuminated the air, flapping their little wings and humming softly. While most of the Glade’s inhabitants were used to these tiny creatures and their general presence, Lex was still growing accustomed to them after having lived most of his life in deep space. Sure, he didn’t remember much–if anything–of what that was like, but his body sure did, and it acted accordingly.

Space was quiet. The Glade, though it didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary to most folks, was not.

Lex stirred in his sleep, feeling his eyes begin to open ever so slightly. He groaned–he was barely awake, and yet all of his senses were already being overwhelmed at full blast. Too many bright lights. Too many loud noises. God, it was… a lot.

He buried his face deeper into the fabric of Rayman’s hoodie, nuzzling his chest in an attempt to let it calm him down enough to go back to sleep. Of course, though, said attempt was unsuccessful, and he wasn’t going back to dreamland anytime soon.

Not long after, he felt the familiar touch of gloved fingers delicately stroking his back, and he couldn’t help but feel a smile make its way onto his face.

“G’morning,” Lex whispered, bringing one of his hands up to caress Rayman’s cheek, getting a silent chuckle out of the hero.

“Morning, snugglebug,” Rayman replied–his voice deep and hoarse as he adjusted to the feeling of being awake after his slumber. Lex’s smile brightened and a heat rapidly rose to his face. No matter how many times he’d heard it before, he never got tired of that adorable, sleepy voice. It was like music to his ears… if he had any ears. It was like music to his, uh, antennae. Which were, speaking of, twitching at every little sound vibration in the air.

Rayman let out a long, drawn-out yawn, smacking his lips for a while afterwards. Though he looked like he was more than ready to go back to sleep, he pulled his beloved closer, fighting his body’s urge to close his eyes once more. “Something caught your attention?”

Lex shook his head against Rayman’s body, merely letting out an unsure hum. “Not… not really, no. Just… I dunno. It’s way too early in the morning for the world around us to be, uh, this active. This loud… and bright.”

“You overstimulated, sweetheart?”, Rayman muttered, continuing his embrace with delicate strokes on Lex’s back. “‘Cause I think it’s real quiet and peaceful. But I know you’re a bit more sensitive to all of this stuff than I am.”

“Mmmm… maybe,” Lex sighed, pulling their shared blanket higher up in a feeble attempt to block out the rays of the suns.

“We’ll crash somewhere closer to the shade next time, bud. Sorry about that.”

“You… you don’t have to apologize, silly. It’s not–it’s not your fault.”

“Aw, but it is. I’ve gotta protect you, y’know?”

An amused snicker escaped Lex. What had he done to deserve this man?

“You can’t… you can’t protect me from everything. But I love you anyway.”

“Still gonna try… only the best for the love of my life,” Rayman softly mumbled, lightly nuzzling his nose against the top of Lex’s head. And at a sentence and gesture like that, Lex couldn’t stop his entire face from heating up.

“...You’re too nice to me,” Lex muttered meekly, letting out a quiet yelp as he felt his lover begin to sit up, dragging Lex up with him in the process as the two were still tangled up in each other’s–hypothetical–arms.

“Y’wanna grab some grub?”, Rayman yawned, rubbing his eyes. “All this sleeping is making me hungry… and we could go somewhere more quiet. Could make you some blueberry pancakes.”

Lex grinned, looking up at Rayman as he sighed contently. “Blueberry pancakes do sound pretty nice right about now. You–you spoil me, y’know that?”

Rayman, finally starting to fully awaken, ruffled Lex’s hair–being careful not to be too rough, considering how fragile his antennae were–and let out a hearty chuckle. “Yeah, but I like spoiling you. Seeing the way your face scrunches up when you get happy is the highlight of my day.”

A shy, squeaky giggle was all that Lex could come up with in response, and Rayman could’ve sworn he practically felt his pupils turn into hearts at the display. He pulled him closer, rocking him back and forth for a bit as he traced his finger across the smile on Lex’s face.

“That’s exactly what I mean…”, he cooed, kissing the top of his head one last time before he finally stood up, letting the pile of blankets fall to the side and stretching his body as best as you can without any limbs. Lex wasted no time in getting up along with him, grabbing the soft blankets and nuzzling his face against them one last time before the two lovebirds headed deeper into the forest, hand in hand. Next on the agenda; blueberry pancakes… and maybe another nap.

#this is from over a month ago I just fORGOT ABOUT IT WHOOPS. I also have a ramon/lex one to post at some point ^^#self ship #self shipping #self ship community #rayman #💜☀️ray of sunshine☀️💜#my writing

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lilypadding · 10 months ago

Text

— stay 'til the morning

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: nanami chiaki x komaeda nagito

summary: after they spend the afternoon together, komaeda helps a very sleepy nanami back to her cottage.

# tags: set in sdr2, tooth rotting fluff, self-indulgent entirely, just need them to be friends (cries and sobs)

(~1.5k words) | this can technically act as a prequel moment to the fifth trial | divider

Nanami’s eyes are heavy when she opens them. All she can register is a numbing pain in her back, and something tightly pressed against her cheek. The sound of quaint shifts in water and a soft breeze rustling the nearby palm trees almost makes her drift off again.

“Oh, have you woken up?”

Komaeda’s voice. Nanami fights to blink a few times.

He laughs in his lower register. Nanami’s mouth draws open, yawning and squeezing her eyes shut. She stretches her arms and realizes she’s not laying down. It feels like she’s sitting at a table. Her knee jerks up, almost involuntarily, and a prickling static surges to her thighs. Falling asleep at a public bench attached to a patio table does no wonders for your limbs. When Nanami raises her head and ignores the pain in her shoulders, her eyes land on the pool they’re beside. The table’s built-in umbrella flaps with a new gust of wind.

Something is draped over her shoulders, but she can’t find the energy to question the light pressure.

“C’mon,” Komaeda puts his hand on her shoulder. It’s extremely warm— the sensation nearly burns through her sweater. “We’ve gotta get you to your cottage.”

“Where…” Nanami’s voice dies before she can finish her line.

“You’re outside the diner,” Komaeda supplies, still tugging at her shoulder, “We spent some time here this afternoon, and you drifted to sleep. It’s nearly nighttime.”

Nanami folds her arms over the table. She closes her eyes, unconvinced at the notion of moving anywhere. Exhaustion is etching into her, threatening to knock her out again despite the cold that’s biting her legs and feet.

“It was a pleasure that you’d want to play your game while I read. Even sitting in silence, you’re willing to accompany me.”

Her perception starts to grow darker. And fuzzier.

“Nanami-san,” Komaeda teases her name in a sing-song voice, “We wouldn’t want you getting in trouble. Let’s go.”

“Nooo,” She draws out, a wave of drowsiness smacking down at her.

“I’ll steal your games if you don’t.”

Nanami’s eyes shoot open. She groans, making a show of how much she dreads the idea of standing up. Komaeda laughs as she slowly gets herself to sit up. When he stands from the table, she grabs his arm, and there is something strange in feeling his bare skin. But her tired mind can’t decipher what’s wrong with it.

“There you go,” Komaeda mumbles once Nanami is properly standing upright. She pushes off the dizzy feeling that’s edging her to tumble as she begins taking the first few steps. Komaeda stays just behind her, guiding her with a hand on her elbow, placed so lightly she almost doesn’t feel it.

She squints at the view of all the cottages as the moon casts an uneasy light over the docks. The water beneath the docks recedes and laps quietly. There is nothing to listen to save for the low clicking of his footsteps against the hardwood. Nanami wallows in the comforting sound of waves, crickets calling, and rustling bushes. Cold shivers run up her body as she walks, and she tugs what’s been draped over her shoulders tighter around herself, retaining the ounce of heat.

“We’re almost there,” Komaeda reassures from behind her. Nanami wants to nod, but the motion fails after she nearly trips over herself. Komaeda grips her arm properly in a rush.

“I’m sorry,” Nanami mumbles, squinting into the light of the other cottages.

“What?” Komaeda laughs lightly, “You’re not at fault for that.”

Nanami sways, and Komaeda stops her from taking another step.

“Okay, we’re here,” Komaeda says cheerily, “Do you keep it locked?”

“No,” Nanami replies, following it up with a yawn. Komaeda presses her arm, signaling for her to continue. She obliges.

The door clicks open, and a creak sounds out when it swings inside.

Both of them enter, and Nanami beelines for the bed, her feet shuffling against the wooden floors. She flops into the mattress, tugging what’s draped over her tighter against herself as if it were her blanket. From her place in bed, she casts her feet over the mattress and kicks her shoes off.

She groans as she curls further into herself, drawing the makeshift blanket even closer to her.

“Aha, wait,” Komaeda inches closer to her but stays out of reach, “Don’t you want to switch into nighttime clothes before drifting to bed again?”

Nanami shakes her head against her pillow, then verbalizes a short “No” which sounds more like a weak groan if anything.

“Are you sure? That can’t be comfortable.”

“Komaeda… kun…” Nanami’s eyes are closed. Her hand peeks out from beneath what’s covering her, exposing cold air to prick her skin. “Stay…”

Silence falls over the room.

“Huh…?”

Nanami is too tired to process her own thoughts. Her mind is running on wants.

“Stay here,” Nanami says, sleep already weighing her words into something close to incoherency, “Until… fall asleep…”

“N-Nanami-san?”

“Come here,” Nanami pats her bed. She scoots back slowly, her eyes still closed, still wrapped up in the mystery blanket.

Komaeda doesn’t move for a while.

“Ugh…” Nanami whines, “Please? Just… need your company… ‘till sleep.”

There’s no shift heard from the floor. For another long moment, he doesn’t move.

Until the floorboards begin creaking again, making way for his footsteps who are slowly approaching the bed.

“I don’t want to impose…” He starts off with, standing before it. “I think I should get going, Nanami—”

Nanami’s eyes part open, enough for her to latch an aim at his wrist and lock onto it with her hand.

“Sit,” Nanami drawls, her mouth being half muffled by her pillow.

Komaeda lets out a nervous laugh. Nanami’s eyes drift to close all over again. She tugs at his arm, and she can feel him leaning forward slightly at the gesture. She bites back a smile before she tugs as hard as she can.

Komaeda yelps, and the mattress beneath her takes a dip. His hands have landed on either side of Nanami’s head, and his arms are locked so as to prop himself up before having to otherwise crash into her.

Nanami snorts, and she can’t fight off her amused smile as she begins to laugh.

“Hey!” Komaeda says through a weakened grin, and Nanami opens her eyes wider. His startled expression hovering over her makes her giggle harder.

Komaeda’s grin grows as he watches her drift into hysterics. He begins laughing, finding her amusement to be contagious.

“You-” Nanami tries to fight off her own laughter to get the words out, “You yelped like a dog—!”

The phrase makes her giggle that much harder. Komaeda huffs with an embarrassed smile. Watching her laugh is enough for him to join her.

“You caught me off guard,” He says. His hair is falling over his face more than ever.

“That was the point,” Nanami grins at him. He returns the smile, his face flushed red at the previous embarrassment. Nanami continues to laugh at the thought of the sound he’d made while he pivots himself out of hovering over her and instead settles into sitting at the edge of the bed, still facing her.

“Ah, I woke you up, didn’t I?” Komaeda’s voice gives off a hint of disappointment.

“Hm, it’s okay,” Nanami shifts so she’s lying on her side again, “It's more time we get to spend together before I fall asleep again.”

Komaeda’s eyes widen. Nanami’s smile grows. She hasn’t seen him smile like this in a while. Komaeda has a tendency to smile constantly, but his expression is never as genuine as it is right now.

“R-Right,” He looks away from her, picking at the hem of his shirt, “I guess you’re right.”

His eyes skim over Nanami’s figure, brows turning in slightly.

“You should get under the covers, Nanami-san. I doubt my jacket is enough to keep you warm.”

Nanami grips the edges of it. Her eyes trail down, and the material practically wrapped around her. Ah. So this was her makeshift blanket. Komaeda must have put it over her after she fell asleep at their table.

If she even casually shrugs it off, he’d mentally turn this into an excuse of being ‘proof’ that he’s beneath his classmates. She can already picture him saying, ‘Of course you wouldn’t want my unfortunate possessions on your skin.’

“No,” Nanami says. “It's warm. I like it.”

Komaeda looks like he's been struck by something. Again.

“Ah. Your day clothes and my jacket as pajamas. You're a curious sleeper.”

“You're judging me before bed?”

“I'm deplorable, truly. That's all the more reason to kick me out, isn't it?”

Nanami pouts and reaches out, gripping his wrist with a tight hold, set on not letting go.

“You're going to stay here. And you will not leave. Tell me a bedtime story.”

“A bedtime—?”

“Just talk.”

#nagito komaeda #chiaki nanami #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa fanfiction #komanami #komanami fanfiction #fluff

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foreverlilmeowmeow · 2 years ago

Note

Helloooooo!! Can you write a one shot about Octane from apex proposing to the reader please I realized there’s no fanfics abt it. Can it also be a fem reader? Thanks man🤘

Omg! I love this idea and I don't see much either as I love Octane just as much. I'm sorry it took me so long to write and I'm sorry if the fight scene is a bit messy. I'm not really good with fighting scenes but I feel like Octane would do something like this so enjoy :)

requests are still open, they just might take me a while as I'm shuffling between jobs and some drama at home, but please fill free to send me your ideas :) I'll get to them as soon as I can! Thanks :)

~Sleepy Ash

~~~

Summary: You were in the middle of a fight on Broken Moon and your boyfriend of what felt like years decided now was the time to propose to you.

Warnings: nothing too big? Maybe the characters getting shot, but nothing too bad I would think.

Words: 1269

~~~

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Lifeline asked as bullets were going past her head.

“I’m gonna ask her to marry me. I mean I don’t see the issue here, plus she and I have been dating for a while. I don’t see her saying no.” Octane said as he peaked over the ledge to see where the enemy team was.

“But we're in the middle of a fight right now. Are you sure she’s not gonna say no because we're preoccupied?” Lifeline asked as Octane shook his head.

“I don’t think so. If in all honesty I think everyone will be shocked that Octavio Silva is finally settling down after all these years. I know I would be.” Octane laughed as Y/N made a winge noise over mic and then called out that she was downed by a second team.

“Well, here’s your chance to be the hero. Go get them I guess.” Lifeline said as she rolled her eyes. She peaked over the ledge that Octane had just looked over and had seen where Y/N had gone down and sighed knowing that if he didn’t hurry the ring was going to pinch them and that was something she didn’t want to deal with.

“I’m coming Y/N! Just hold on!” Octane called over mic as he jabbed the needle of his stim into his chest and jetted out of the building on the north east side of The Mirage Voyage, grabbing the zipline, and then down to the second floor where he saw Mirage finishing Y/N and Wraith guardian the door.

“Wow, that's quite the predemis—Pruh—Preh... Predicam—uh... It's a bad situation for you.” Mirage smiled as he started moving backwards in some type of moonwalk dance and kick up his foot to finish Y/N but ended up stopping as Octane pulled out his R-99 and started shooting him, stopping him from finishing Y/N, and had both Wraith and Mirage focused on Octane so Lifeline could pick Y/N up.

"On yuh feet. Lifeline's gotcha back." Lifeline smiled as she had quickly followed Octane down the zipline and through the building to pick Y/N up. The three of them now dealing with Wraith and Mirage that when Y/N did finally heal up Lifeline had gotten shot by their third member Bangalore and groaned seeing her down weapon was a G Scout fully kitted.

“Tango down.” Bangalore smirked as she and Y/N locked eyes. Bangs was about to go after Y/N when Octane got between the two and sat down on one knee nearly confusing Bangalore and Y/N on what he was doing.

“Le-et me have this moment real quick, please?” Octane said as he shot at Bangalore giving her a warning and then downed Mirage as he tried to finish the job with Y/N.

“What are you doing? We have to finish them!” Y/N growled as she was aiming her gun at Bangalore looking around to figure out where the hell Wraith had fazed off too.

“Something I should have done a long time ago but was too chicken to do so…” Octane said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out what could only be but a small square velvet box.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Bangalore said while shaking her head, “You're doing this now?!”

Octane nodded his head, “Uh, yeah, I don’t see a better time than doing it now.”

Lifeline rolled her eyes as she and Bangalore waited for Octane to continue. The three of them standing on the bottom floor of the building just watching the ring grow closer as Mirage was knocked down in a corner, probably talking to Wraith and figuring out what to do while the other team and Bangalore were off proposing to people.

“Well, get on your knee Silva, got less than four-five.” Bangalore said as Octane quickly nodded and turned to face Y/n. His left hand removing his goggles so everyone could see his brown eyes and his cheeks a bit pink as he, himself, couldn’t believe he was doing this.

“Come on Silva we don’t have all day.” Lifeline said as she was starting to join the group of annoyed people.

“Right, Y/N, -” Octane began as Y/N nodded smiling from ear to ear, “-I know we haven’t been an item for a long time and I know we’ve been friends for twice as much, but ever since that day up on Kings Canyon on the jump course, where we did some sick teamwork on the jump pads, I knew I wanted to spend foverever with you. You're fun and amazing and when you do that thing with the P2020.” She flipped it around her pointer finger and then threw it up into the air before catching and putting it back into its holster, “I knew you were the love of my life, my partner in crime, my life long duo…” the list goes on and on as when Octane finally pulled out the ring Y/N gasped. The diamond was green wrapped around pure silva (see what I did there??). It was the same color as his stim and green hair. Tiny but on point as he didn’t want something flashy, but enough to catch someone’s eye. He wanted the ring to represent him and her put together and to show that Octavio Silva can be locked down. He just had to find someone special enough to do so.

“Awe, babe, you… shouldn’t have…” Y/N said as she held out her hand and waited for Octane to finish.

“Come on Silva pick it up we gotta go!” Bangalore said as she tapped her foot against the concrete.

“Ooo, right…” Octane said as he nodded. He pulled the ring out of the velvet box and smiled, holding it up to Y/N with a smile, “Will you make me the most happiest man alive and marry me?”

Y/N smiled nodding, “Of course you idiot. Of Course.'' and when she slipped on the ring Wraith came out of nowhere and finished off the three of them. First throwing a grenade and weakening them and then knocking all three of them with a R-301.

“Jesus, Wraith, couldn’t come fast enough? Where did you go?” Bangalore said as she threw down and heat shield and started looting through Octane’s box.

“I had to take care of some outside squads. I heard some strays while shielding up earlier and just sorry I came back late.” She said as she picked up Mirage who was mumbling some nonsense to himself. He looted through Y/N’s box as when the three of them were done. Heading out of the building and took off on the zipline.

“Did you know he was going to propose all this time?” Mirage asked as he looked back at Bangalore.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting him to nearly kill us all with ring.” Banaglore sighed as she felt the heat from the ring burn her skin.

“Damn. Such a shame they all had to go out like that. Would have been rom-roman-uh cool if they got to be the champion squad in the end.” Mirage stumbled as Wraith nodded.

“Yeah, it would have, but I decided to end things. Now come on. We have less than three squads left and this ring is really burning us here.” Wraith said as they jumped off the zipline and headed to the next. They had a long way to go, but in the end Octane was happy and so was Y/N.

#Apex #Apex x reader #Apex Octane x Reader #Octane Silva x Reader #x reader #Octane x reader #octane apex legends #Octavio Silva x Reader #octavio silva #Octane settles down??#Octane gets married??#gets married #getting married #enganged #Lifeline #Mirage #Bangalore #Wraith

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yueisyum · 2 years ago

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Favourite moments (part 2) ˖ ་⭐︎ ִdtai series

Note: These are basically just memorable conversations between mc and haechan. Remember that these are moments that the reader doesn’t want to acknowledge. Things that she can’t come to terms with yet.

This includes; the after math of falling asleep with Haechan on the summer trip, and the kiss that’s mentioned in part three of dtai!

Any questions? Lmk! Any mistakes? Lmk a! Any requests? Lmk!!

And enjoy!! 😚

ִ ۫ ּ ˖ ་⭐︎ ִ ۫ ּ ˖ ་⭐︎ ִ ۫ ּ ˖ ་⭐︎ ִ ۫ ּ ˖ ་⭐︎ ִ ۫ ּ ˖ ་⭐︎ ִ ۫ ּ ִ ۫ ּ ˖ ་⭐︎ ִ ۫ ּ ˖⭐︎ ִ ۫ ּ

You wake up feeling dizzy, a good dizzy. Your body feels relaxed, and you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes. That’s until you feel your body being moved; large Arms that have been wrapped around your waist, to pull you in. You shoot your eyes open then immediately allow them to squint from the sunlight, before looking to your left to see Haechan.

Haechan.

His eyes are closed, but his mouth is also closed. Nobody sleeps while breathing through their nose. He’s gotta be awake. He pulls you again, this time your face is brought to his firm chest. You realize you are too comfortable in this position. How can you be this comfortable. You feel his chin lay against your head, and you debate whether or not to move.

“Hyuck”

Nothing. He doesn’t even shift.

“Haechan”

You feel his grip tighten around you.

“Hyuck-“

“-Jus’A little longer” his voice is deep and groggy. He smells like the beach and his hand is rubbing your back. It was comforting, but it shouldn’t be, you should be so comfortable in his arms.

“This is weird” you try to argue, putting your hand to his chest to push away from him. He does not like that. His arms pulls you unbelievably close, closer then the other two times. “No it’s not. Friends cuddle all the time” you didn’t realize until now that you were using haechans arm as a pillow all light. You think it must be alseep now, the weight of your head might even be hurting him.

“What if someone walks in? We are in the living room for gods sake”

“Everyone’s already awake, they left to the beach like 15 minutes ago.”

“Oh god-“ you fight his grip finally pushing yourself off of his chest. The thought of everyone seeing you practically drool all over heachan, makes you want to fly into the sun-

“Cuddling is normal y/nnnnnn!” He whines when you bring your foot up to help kick yourself away from him. You yelp when you almost roll of the bed. quickly climbing to your feet and standing above the whining child under you.

“I was comfortable! What the heck!” He complains.

He finally sits up and looks up at you. “I know you were too, you were basically purring” he smirks, happy with the face you made at that bit of information. “Are you hungry?” He adds, completely changing the subject before you could retort.

‘Your insufferable’

That’s what’s you wanted to say. But suddenly the memory of haechan last night flooded your mind. He really thought you hated him? Maybe you are being too rude to him… rude enough, that he actually thought you didn’t like him? Enough that he had to ask you. It had to have been bad, if it wasn’t that serious, it wouldn’t have kept him up. maybe you took it to far… maybe your a bad friend-

“Y/n?” Haechan calls, confused as to why you’re just staring at him.

“I’m going to go shower” you quickly turn on your heal to make your way back to your room. Pushing all previous thoughts down the drain, knowing they’ll flood back up later.

“I’m going to make food!” He calls before you hear the blow up bed shift under him.

•••

When you get out of the shower, your hair wet, and the mirror fogged; you see Chaewon grabbing a towel from a drawer. You stand and wait for her to turn and notice you. The clothes you put on are weirdly uncomfortable due to the fact that your still a bit wet, the fabric sticking to your skin.

“Oh hey sleepy head!” She perks when she sees your figure. “Hey” you smile awkwardly, there’s no way she didn’t see you on the bed with Haechan.

“Did you sleep well? Looked like you did” she wiggles her eyebrows and shakes her shoulders.

Yeah… she definitely did.

You slept amazing. But would you ever admit that? No. Of course not.

“We were just talking, then I feel asleep-“

“-In his arms!”

“This conversation is over.”

“You two would be good together”

“Stop”

“I’m serious! You guys just happen to fall asleep while cuddling? And you can’t even lie and say that it was bad? You two are definitely going to end up together” she brings up the towel to her chest and looks up, as if she could see the future.

“I don’t know why you think that, we literally hate each other” you roll your eyes and begin to tie your hair up.

“What?”

“What?” You look up at her. Her eyes are pinched together and her hands drop to her side.

“Y/n no, that’s not true. You two are the closer to each other then anyone else in the group-“ she crosses her arms over her chest and your drop your hands from your hair.

“What the hell are you going on about?”

“You two talk all the time-“

“- we bicker and argue all the time-“

“What about the times you don’t?”

“They’re rare”

“Yes, but there so intimate, there not just normal conversations, there close friend- conversations- real and deep conversations…”

…that’s not true, definitely not. You and haechan barely ever have deep conversations… do you? Beside last night.

“…Conversations that enemies don’t have with each other. You have it in your head that you two hate each other when in reality, your two are like best friends.” She continues and starts nearing towards you.

… “that’s not true” you argue with pout.

“Really? Why do you think that you two hate each other?”

“Because we always argue and-“ she shakes her head, already disagreeing with your explanation.

“You two hang out by yourselves- not inviting anyone else, going to the store together… helping each other with chores or errands… always near each other at parties, etc. Your choosing to ignore the truth… why?” She’s garbs your shoulders to exaggerate.

… because its easier.

“Is it because your scared of the possibility that your feelings towards him will grow?”

Don’t say anything.

“They already have”

You idiot.

“… so your just running from them? Refusing to face the fact that you like him?” Her eyes widen. Never in a million years would Chaewon expect you to admit something like that so easily. Neither did you.

“I’m not- He doesn’t like me…” you continue to deny it. You can’t- you refuse to come to terms with such a thing.

“Really? Y/n Every time you laugh, he immediately snaps his head to see your smile- or what about the times you refused to hang out because you had to “study”? Who was the one who came to get you? And last night, you two stayed up all night talking and watching stupid movies together… do you think he did all that because he ‘doesn’t like you?’”

You look away from her, not acknowledging her questions, because you know she already knows the answer.

“This whole time you’ve seen your relationship with him as hate? I don’t understand how your mind can skip past all of that stuff. It’s wild…. I wonder how he thinks about you and your oblivious-ness?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore” your cross your arms with a huff.

“Good, have it with him instead” she drops her hands from your shoulders with a proud smile.

“I hate you” you hiss, and that earns a laugh from her.

“You love me.”

As she makes her way back to the beach through the sliding doors,

Your mind has already made work to act as if this conversation never happened.

•••

When you found yourself back into the living room, the blow up bed was deflated and folded up in the corner, the blankets that were on it were also folded and sat on the couch. You could also hear The sound of haechan humming in the kitchen. You walk around the wall and watch him opening a can of spam. He glances up at you when he sees your figure.

“Hey”

You watch for a moment longer before responding.

“Hi…”

He begins cutting the spam into slices, the stove behind him is on and beginning to heat up. “Help me make some scrabbled eggs”

You nod and begin your way around the kitchen hesitantly. Opening the fridge and grabbing the carton of eggs.

The eggs are cold

Of course they are- they just came from the fridge

You need a bowl to mix them

Salt and pepper

You’ll need another pan on the stove

No? Haechnn says no?

“Use the same pan, it’s easier and less dishes.”

Fine.

You share a pan, Haechan coughs up a couple stupid jokes. You fake a laugh before deadpanning at him to show that you aren’t amused, even if you truly are. You can’t help but feel less alone with him next to you.

I mean of course, your not alone. But you don’t mean physically. Your glad you’ve made friends with him and the rest of the friend group. They are the best thing that’s happened to you in a while.

We need plates

How many?

Two, you idiot-

Cups? Yes. Two

What do we have to drink? Orange juice? that’s it? … great…

He wants to sit right across from you… why!?

Okay this is very quiet

Should you say something?

About you two cuddling?

Absolutely not

About chaewons conversation with you earlier?

Are you crazy!? No!!

Just eat in silence.

Haechan glances at you a couple times. You feel like an open book, for whatever reason you can’t control your facial expressions.

“Don’t make it awkward” he says, his voice fills the silence easily. It says it so nonchalantly, while eating. You started thinking you imagined the words leave his lips.

“I’m not making it awkward, you’re making it awkward” you argue and pinch your brows together. But your cheeks glow red, you can feel it, so you lower your head. “You look good… Did you sleep well? All because you fell asleep in my arms?” He teases, but his words are only making you panic. “No! You snored-“

“Oh really?” He smiles, setting down his cup on the coster to look at you clearly, obviously not believing your blatant lie.

“And you smell!” You continue, frustrated and flustered.

“Do I?” He teases, he won’t look away from you now, and you outta slap his stupid pretty face.

“I’m serious Hyuck”

“Okay I believe you” he puts his hands up I defence, but his face definitely shows he doesn’t believe you. You huff and place your hands on the table.

“Okay I’m full, I’m going to go to the beach” you shoot up from your seat and pick up your plate. “Your not going to ask if I slept well?”

You place your plate on the counter and your cup of orange juice in the sink. “I know you did, you’re obsessed with me. You probably slept like a baby” you joke, and make your way back to your room to grab your towel and bathing suite.

When he knows your far enough to where you can’t here him, he smiles.

“I did”

🔹🔹the birthday kiss🔹🔹

“Happy birthday to me!”

You pull your covers over your head and groan. His voice didn’t surprise you, he told you he was going to ‘Break in’ to spend his birthday morning with you, Yejun, and Shihyun. But truthfully, it’s because he knows yejun makes the best birthday pancakes.

However, you are surprised that he came into your room specifically.

“Hyuck! get out!” you groan louder, to make sure he can hear your agony.

“Y/nnnn It’s my birthdayyyy” he whines, you feel his knees settle into your mattress and his body lands on top of yours. “Hyuck! Please, 10 more minutes!” His body crushes yours, and you can smell his cologne, your not sure what it is, but you like the smell of it. “Okay, 10 more minutes” he remains still, on top of you, you pull the covers off your head to glare at him. “Alone, hyuck” you correct yourself and try to push his body off of yours.

“Not happening” his arms come to wrap around you, and he snuggles into your frame. “Oh my god, you have got to be kidding me-“ you push your Hands in his head to remove his face from you.

“-you promised to be nice to me on my birthday!… did you lie?” he mumble into your palm.

You huff and roll your eyes, releasing your hands from his face. “No I didn’t lie, I’m sorry. Happy birthday hyuck”

He smiles and hides his face in your neck. You feel butterflies flutter throughout your body, and you swear it’s just because your ticklish. “Thank you y/n, you’re too good to me” he mumbles into you, tightening his grip. “Okay whatever, let’s go wake up yejun so she can make your stupid pancakes” you laugh as his words against your neck make you giddy.

“You said ten more minutes?”

“Yeah but I’m awake now-“ you try to sit up, but of course he won’t budge.

“-Wait! What did you get me for my birthday?” He changes the subject and tightens has arms around you.

“I’m blessing you with my kindness”

“I meant physically”

“I’m allowing you to lay on top of me.” You pat his head and continue to try and escape his grip.

“No fair! That’s it? are you serious-“ you look at him, his eyes are on yours, his face has settled into a pout and he looks offended. “It’s a surprise, and I can’t give it to you if I can’t move” He smiles and instantly moves off if you, rolling his body to the side. You take your chance and fly off the bed, making your way to your living room with a sprint.

“Y/n! You liar” you hear his footsteps behind you. And you can’t help but giggle as he chases you about the dorm.

•••

You’re freaking out. Jisung just ate some bad sushi or something, and he’s throwing up outside of the restaurant. You’ve ran inside to ask for a cup or bottle of water from the front counter. You knew the place was sketchy when they didn’t clean off the table from the other customers, before seating you guys. You dig into your pocket for loose cash and throw it down on the counter.

Your hands are shaking and you are genuinely scared for Jisung’s life. Sure, maybe you’re being dramatic, but Jisung is like your child. When the person at the counter hands you a unopened water bottle, your run back out, and hand it to yejun who quickly helps Jisung drink it. He takes a sip and makes a face before spiting it out. the group laughs at the action, including you.

He’s fine. Your fine, everything is fine.

“You guys suck” he complains. He’s taking deep breathes and your glad that jaemin is there. He knows what he’s doing.

It was Jisung who picked the place, which is pretty ironic. It’s not cold outside today, however it rained earlier, and the wind is beginning to picki up. “Gargle, then spit, before you actually drink it. You need to get the acid out of your mouth-“

“Acid!? Am I going to die!?” Jisung looks to his hyung, jaemin, like he’s about to evaporate like Spiderman form infinity wars. You try your hardest not to laugh, biting your lip to restrain yourself. “You’re an idiot- who let Jisung pick the place!?” Shihyun slaps her hands over her face in disappointment.

“Haechan? Who else.” Yuta laughs, along with mark. Actually, they haven’t stopped laughing since Jisung first threw up inside. You stand there, with your hands in your pockets, slightly hoping to ease the coldness creaking up your skin. Now that you think about it maybe you were being a bit dramatic.

“Where is haechan?” You ask, looking around the parking lot for his white t-shirt, or the leather jacket you know he’s wearing tonight.

“He ran out to bring the car around, he said he needed to, just in case we needed to take mr ‘let me pick the place’ to the hospital” Johnny informs with a small laugh, and you join him.

I guess you aren’t the only one freaking out.

“Y/n?” You turn your head to Shihyun. “Can we go back to our place? We can get takeout there?”

“Why are you asking me? It’s not my birthday”

“Let’s do it!” You jump and turn around to see haechan. He’s wearing his glasses, a white t-shirt, and big, oversized black jeans.

Very sophisticated. The car is now parked closer to the group. Mark and yuta help Jisung in the car. They are still laughing…

Of course.

Johnny grabs the keys from haechan and hops in the driver seat.

“You want to go to our place?” You question the birthday boy with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, if anyones place is getting trashed tonight, it should be yours” you scoff and kick the side of his knee. “Ow! What the hell happened to being nice on my birthday?”

“That was a kick of kindness” you stick your tongue out and him. He smiles and follows you into the car. Renjun, yejun, jeno, and Shihyun all take another. And you make your way back to your apartment/dorm.

•••

When the takeout arrived, you tipped the delivery guy, and locked the door behind you, before making your way into your living space.

“How come you guys don’t want to sing me happy birthday!?” Haechan whines, his arms are wrapped around mark with a pout in his face. “We already did! At the restaurant- get off me you rat!” Mark shoves Haechan’s face away, similar to the way you did this morning. “That doesn’t count, we had to leave…. You guys don’t love me!” Haechan crosses his arms over his chest.

You place the food down on the table. The group had already been cleaning out your pantry of snacks, but quickly dropped them at the smell of food. However, the smell was making you want to throw up, maybe it was the thought of Jisung earlier, but you couldn’t stand it. “Finally, I’m starving” Jisung sighed and sat up to grab one of the containers from the bag.

How is he still able to eat!?

You cringe when he takes a huge mouthful of noodles. “Im going to go to the balcony” you say to Yejun. Everyone was either in conversation or eating. So you made sure at least one person heard you. Yejun nods and sends you a smile.

•••

You had been out here for at least 30 minutes now. Either on your phone or just watching cars pacing by, below you. When you heard the sliding doors opened, you almost instantly knew who it was. “So your hiding from the group? On my birthday?” You roll your eyes when none other then haechan takes a seat next to you. “No, I’m hiding from YOU, on your birthday” you joke. He deadpans to you and scoffs, but he can’t hold back his stupid smile. “You’re terrible” he scoffs.

“I’m a delight”

“Why are you out here?” He leans back but keeps his eyes on you. It’s dark out, the only lights illuminating yours and his face, are the streetlights and the lights from inside your apartment.

“The smell of the food, ‘guess in was making me nauseous” you reply simply. You don’t necessarily dislike his presence, you just don’t know how to respond to it, or how to act with you two being alone. “The food? Are you sure that’s what it is?” He ask with a knowing tone.

You tilt your head at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, never mind” he shakes his head slightly and turns to the street below you.

“No, that’s not fair, what did you mean?” You sit up in the chair your seated in, fully facing him. Heachan looks as if he’s weighing his options before answering. “I just think that maybe you left because you don’t feel included” your pinch your eyebrows together and shake your head. “No, that’s the farthest from the truth” you turn your head back to the passing cars. You note that the headlights are also a source of light.

“Sorry, you just do stuff like that a lot”

“Like what?”

“Like, act as if you aren’t apart of our group”

“I do not”

“You do. You never actually acknowledge yourself as a part of our family.”

You turn back to him with a glare,. Sometimes, anxiety may make you feel as if your just a bystander in the group, but they’ve never actually made you feel that way. Your just an over thinker. But this time, it was really just because of the smell… right? you pout and lean back in your seat with a huff. “I hate when you do that” you mumble, you are well aware that you probably look like a child that’s just been told Santa isn’t real, but you don’t give it much thought.

“Do what?” He asks, a curious expression sat on his face.

“I don’t know, but I hate it” you cross your arms in frustration. He just smiles to himself with a nod. Then it goes quiet for a bit. When he does you look aback at him, he looks lost, you can’t exactly pin point it. But it scares you.

“How is your birthday going so far?”

Haechan finds your gaze once again. His eyes flicker around your face, scanning your features as if he hasn’t memorized them already. “Better now that I’m with you”

“Don’t be cheesy” you roll your eyes and he slouches, deadpanning to you.

“Do you always do that?”

You shoot him another confused look. But he doesn’t elaborate, only watches you, waiting for an answer. “Do what?” You finally ask after a moment.

“That. You always refuse to have meaningful conversations. And you always reject emotional topics. Makes me feel like you don’t want anything to do with me, or any of us”

Woah…

You stare at him, dumbfounded. You hate when he can read you like an open book, you absolutely hate it. And you hate when he wants to have these stupid deep conversations just as much.

You hate when he can fix you.

But you also hate when you accidentally make him feel bad. You feel guilty when you genuinely hurt his feelings, and you’ve noticed that actually insulting him doesn’t hurt him as much as when you push him away.

“Um… I’m- uh-“ you stutter for a moment, trying your hardest to find your words.

“Sorry-“ he begins, he was ready to take back very thing he just said, if it meant you would relax. He placed his hand on yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “-that was too far…”

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to shoot down your efforts at being kind, but you almost always are- no that’s not what I mean- I mean I’m just not very good at that stuff”

“You mean you have trouble believing it?”

“Yes.”

You feel as if every sentence that leave your mouth, is a page he’s flipping. Each conversation you two have is like a new chapter. He’s getting to close to the plot twist, and you’ll be damned if you allow that to happen.

“But I usually don’t have to worry about that with other people, just you guys”

“Huh?” His brows furrow, and he eyes you suspiciously. You blink twice before explaining yourself.

“Usually my friends say those kinds of things, but the words are always empty, so I don’t have to worry about believing them, or addressing them.”

“Why would you want to have those kinds of friends?”

“It’s easier for me, when they eventually take their leave” you shrug. Your eyes are trained to the street instead of him. It was easier to talk this way.

“Oh… so have you always done that? Even as a kid?”

“Yep… until you guys”

“That’s really sad y/n” he sounded hurt for you, but you shrug it off once again. “I don’t get why you would want to surround yourself with people like that” you think back to a quote you’ve read before, hoping that it would explain it better then you can.

“”I was nearly pathologically afraid of abandonment, and so I’d repeatedly picked people who were absolutely incapable of giving me what I needed, to ensure I was never really at risk of substantial loss” that’s the simplest way I can explain it”

“You picked me because you don’t think I’m capable of giving you what you need?” He sounded panicked and you raise your hands and shack them violently.

“Nonono, I didn’t exactly pick you Hyuck…”

You just showed up

He’s not sure he understands what you mean, but you seemed scared that you had offended him, so he let it go. “Well… I do mean those words.” He finally responds.

you send him a tight lipped smile, glad he didn’t make you explain yourself further. He’s too understanding, you wish he would push you, or make fun of you. You wished he would give you a reason to dislike him. “I know” you whisper in response, to scared to speak at normal volume. his gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips. You just watch him, his hair falls so perfectly around his face and you notice that his glasses are gone, probably discarded on the table inside.

“I’m serious, i meant all of them.” He adds, his hands finds yours again, and you can’t find it in yourself to pull away. “I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed this birthday if you weren’t here” the sound of the group talking inside is long forgotten, though their voices are heard getting louder. Maybe and argument? Or they are all having a very passionate debate? Who cares- lee Haechan is about to kiss you.

God your going to have a hard time pretending this conversation didn’t happen later. His body leans into yours and you don’t move an inch, actually you probably leaned in yourself.

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“You still haven’t given me a birthday gift yet” his voice is dazed and your almost certain that he’s not even paying attention to what’s coming out of his mouth anymore.

“I haven’t?”

You’re not exactly listening to him either, his cologne form earlier is clouding your mind, your brain feels fuzzy when you realize how close he’s gotten. The voices on the other side of the wall begin to muffle out.

“I mean, I don’t care if you forgot to get me one… you’d just have to make it up to me…”

“Yeah?”

he doesn’t bother responding. Finally, he closes the distance between you two. Heachans lips on yours felt like a burst of energy throughout your body. You were almost shaking, if you even tried to move a part of your body, you’re sure you would end up pulling him closer instead. The hand that’s not holding yours comes to lightly hold your face. Your holding your breath and squeezing your eyes shut. You can feel him pushing further into you, almost begging you to reciprocate the kiss,

So you do…

Pushing your lips back into his, you hear a sigh of relief leave him. Haechans other hand finds the other side of your face, and You bring your hand up to cup his, and rest one on his shoulder. It’s was so intimate. He’s kissing you, giving you every kiss he couldn’t have given you in the past, and every kiss he wants to give you in the future. You almost pass out form running out of breath, but you’d rather die then pull away from him.

“Y/n!? Heachan!? Do you think girl athletes and guys athletes should be paid evenly!?”

The sound of Johnny making his way toward the sliding doors is the only thing that pulls you and the birthdays boy apart. The curtains open first and then door second. You and haechan both adjust yourselves when Johnny appears in the doorframe. The sudden interruption caught you off guard but your glad the universe stopped you. You were reminded of what your doing and almost fainted right there and then.

“Okay listen, male athletes get paid more because they are more popular- not because that are better or whateverr, but just in general. Right?” Johnny continues, you look at Haechan, he seems bothered at the fact that his friend ruined his moment with you. A moment he’s been waiting for since you two have meet.

“No! Not fair, your going to tell them in a way that will make you seem right!” Shihyun appears behind the tall guy in the doorway.

“That’s the point” they begin to lightly and playfully push each other around. “Okay, how about we all continue this debate inside? It’s cold” you quickly get up from your seat and push the two children away so you can escape. You don’t even think of looking back to haechan.

Thank the lords, you’re not sure what would have happened if they hadn’t showed up, but you weren’t ready to face it.

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callmewishful · 9 months ago

Text

Man this took a totally different turn than I planned. Gautier Family Week day 3: Duties (ish? lol)

(There is hunting and the stuff that goes with it in this, just as a fair warning. Nothing graphic though!)

.—.

Miklan watched from the side of the bed as his second mother gently brushed back a mess of flaming red hair. The baby had been born many hours ago, but this was the first time Miklan got to see him.

“What do you think, Miklan?” His mother asked. Miklan had already been forewarned that this was a trick question.

Truthfully, Miklan wasn’t sure what to think. The baby was a weird shade of red and kind of boring. That brought the little bundle in his mother’s arms into a negative light. He had been told that having a little sibling would be fun. If all this baby did was sleep, how could he be any fun?

Still, no matter Miklan’s true feelings, he had been informed that he should give positive responses only. His mother had gone through many hours of pain and the least Miklan could do for her was be polite. “I dunno. He’s quiet.”

Miklan did think the baby was polite to be so silent. Nieve had said that the baby would cry and be loud. But the baby gained a little of Miklan’s good feelings by proving Nieve a liar. Since Miklan had been in the room, it hadn’t cried once.

“He’s very sleepy.” She told him, looking far more tired than the little baby. Even more tired than after the night her and Miklan had stayed up because he had been sick. He decided then that he didn’t want a baby.

When Sylvain got even older, Miklan found he was good at listening and asking questions to understand things. That was probably Miklan’s favorite. He liked teaching a little brother and showing him cool things. He liked when Sylvain stared up at him with big wondrous eyes. Syl was super curious and asked so many questions of Miklan, just like Mik used to do to their father. He wondered if Sylvain thought Miklan knew everything, just like Miklan thought Father knew everything. That was a cool thought.

To make things even better, Sylvain was kinda fun. He followed Miklan around and did what Miklan asked him to and never complained about getting dirty or having to be quiet while they snuck around like some of the other kids did. In fact, Sylvain seemed to like just about anything as long as he got to hang around Miklan. Mother and Nieve had been right. It was fun to have someone to play with all the time.

Miklan and Sylvain’s favorite thing to do was play spy. They’d tiptoe around the manor and listen to gain information. Father didn’t like it when they played the game with him, so they played with manor staff and Mother instead. They usually didn’t play for long because most older people talked about boring stuff like Lady Fraldarius having a baby, King Lambert enacting some new law, or Galatea soil not producing any crops. But every now and then, they’d hear something really good like the cook was baking cookies for dessert or a wild beast was on the loose in the woods.

Sylvain tugged hard on Miklan’s arm. “We gotta investi-bate!” Sylvain was only four, so he didn’t say things so good sometimes. He had the right sentiment though.

“Of course we do! We gotta protect Gautier from the beasts! Come on, Syl! We gotta grab our weapons and armor!”

Both boys took off running towards the armory. Even though they were small, they got to keep their weapons with the big knights. It made them feel just as important.

Miklan helped tuck a blanket into the back of Sylvain’s jacket so it fluttered like a cape. Sylvain wasn’t big enough to have armor yet so blanket padding would have to do it. Armor really just absorbed the hits anyway. Blankets would probably do the same thing.

Miklan put his armor on and grabbed his axe and a lance. Father taught him that it was important to have a backup weapon in case your first one broke. He handed Sylvain two small lances as well, warning him to be careful because it was sharp. They couldn’t fight beasts without real weapons.

Sylvain was good at memorizing routes, so Miklan let him lead the way west while Mik strategized their plan. The beast was probably pretty big so they had to account for that because they were small, especially Sylvain. Maybe Sylvain could provide long-distant support like an archer. Miklan wore heavy armor to be able to take hits up front. He could distract the beast while Sylvain snuck up on it! Sylvain was little and quiet. It would work perfectly!

They walked for a long time through the snow, Miklan sharing his master plan with Sylvain. Both boys agreed it would work wonderfully, and Sylvain was excited to get to help even though he was small.

After wading through heavier and deeper snow, Sylvain stopped, eyes bright while he tapped Miklan’s arm. “Look!” He pointed to their left. Miklan grinned.

It was the beast.

The animal was big and tall, meaty and mighty. Light brown fur coated its back and legs, though it had a little scruff of white on its neck. Sharp pointy horns sat upon its head. They’d have to watch out for those when attacking.

It didn’t notice them yet, so Miklan took this opportunity to rediscuss the plan. As soon as he stepped closer to kneel by Sylvain, the beast’s head snapped up. They’d have to be extra quiet if they wanted to catch this.

Miklan placed his finger to his lips. He pulled out his lance and showed Sylvain how to position it to throw. They’d never be able to sneak up on it with the beast being this jumpy, which meant they’d both have to go for a long range attack. Miklan held up his left hand to count them off. One…two…three!

They both threw their lances as hard as they could. And they stuck! Both lances got the beast in the back leg; Miklan’s in the upper, Sylvain’s in the lower. The beast took off running, hobbling a bit with its injury.

“CHARGE!” Sylvain shouted, pointing after the beast. His little legs took off as fast as he could go, which wasn’t that quick. Miklan hoisted Syl up over his shoulder so they could go fast. He didn’t want to miss the monster!

With the beast’s slowness and the little trickle of blood to help them, the boys tracked the monster to its next stopping point. It was harder to keep quiet with his heavy breathing, but Miklan silently took Sylvain’s final lance to make one last attack. He knew that hearts were closer to the front of most beasts, so that’s exactly where he aimed.

Back on the ground, Sylvain’s little hands were gripped into tight fists, teeth clenched in anticipation of the strike. Miklan slowly brought the lance forward over his shoulder, practicing the throw before lunging it forward. Direct hit!

The mighty beast fell hard and Sylvain screamed a great cheer! They had done it!

Sylvain jumped up and down following behind Miklan to check out their triumphant victory. Miklan took out the lances and cleaned them against the wet snow while Sylvain admired the pointy horns of the animal.

“We did good.” He announced with an emphasizing nod. Miklan agreed.

Together, one boy on each set of horns, they pulled the mighty beast back to the manor. It was getting dark out, though thanks to Sylvain’s memory and Miklan’s directional skills, they were still able to find the right path home back home. As they got closer and closer, they could hear shouting but couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Another beastie!” Sylvain determined, dropping his half of the animal to run forward. His little blanket flapped behind him as he went, partially covered in red blood.

As he got closer, he realized that people weren’t shouting over a beast. They were shouting for him and Miklan. He listened closer and thought he could hear Mother and Father among the voices.

“Momma!” He shouted, running ahead again. The thought of his mother and father being attacked pushed energy through him.

Phelan heard him coming, she always did, and he collapsed into her safe arms.

“Oh Goddess.” The woman inspected him, eyes wide. “Matthias! Matthias, bring a healer!”

Sylvain didn’t understand the urgency. He was fine. A little tired and heavily breathing from the running, but fine.

His father ran up to them, crouching down so he could inspect Sylvain for himself. He grabbed Syl from his mother’s grip and started taking his coat off. “Where are you hurt, Sylvain? Where’s Miklan?”

Phelan looked past their younger son then, trying to spot Miklan from where Sylvain had come from.

“M’not hurt.” Sylvain told them. “Miklan has the beast!”

Both parents stopped then, staring at Sylvain with frowns and worried expressions.

“The beast?” Matthias asked.

“It has horns!” Sylvain exclaimed excitedly. “But we got it. Miklan ran fast!”

The adults shared a confused look between them. Sylvain wasn’t sure why. Him and Miklan saw a beast and saved the town! What was hard about that?

“Where is Miklan?” Matthias asked again. He did this often when he couldn’t understand what Sylvain was saying. Miklan was better at explaining things because he knew more stuff.

“Back there with the beast.” Sylvain pointed in the direction he’d come from. His father told his mother to take Sylvain inside before running off in the direction Sylvain pointed in.

Phelan scooped up the little boy and started to bring him towards the manor. They had just met up with the healer when his father started shouting for his mother again. She shared a look Sylvain couldn’t read with the healer and turned back.

Breaking the clearing was his father and brother, Matthias holding the beast up with one hand by the horns. Sylvain marveled at his father’s strength. The beast had been heavy for Sylvain, even with Miklan’s help.

Phelan looked from Matthias to Sylvain, lips pressed together in a thin line. She looked like she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what. It took her until Matthias and Miklan were only a few feet away but she finally asked, “What the hell is going on?”

Matthias sighed, looking from the animal back to her again. “Apparently I need to take my sons hunting more often.”

#these kids!!#I love them so so much #we need more good sibling content #miklan anschutz gautier #also #Matthias teaching Miklan to carry two weapons because Matthias’s broke when trying to save rodrigue #yes #gautierfamilyweek #sylvain jose gautier #matthias raoul gautier #oc: Phelan Mirela Gautier

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