#club of heartbreak and hope
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thetreestumptherapist · 4 months ago
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The Club of Heartbreak and Hope
I would like to completely informally invite yall to my totally unofficial and barely existing club: The Club of Heartbreak and Hope. I can't decide on a mascot but our Symbol is the Ace of Spades (♠) because of Cayde-6. (While editing this post, I think I have decided that we have a council of mascots. That being comprised of Cayde-6, Noble 6, Sergeant Johnson, and I had other people but I can't remember who they were right now.) And our "advisors" are currently Sundance and Colonel. I think our anthem/theme song is legends never die. (I discovered the song around the same time I found out about Cayde's first death and the vaulting of Forsaken and it made me think of him so that song is tied to him in my brain. I will be taking suggestions for a different anthem though.)
Conditions for joining: Have a favorite character that died and left behind a sense of duty and/or a legacy to be remembered forever. They do not have to be videogame characters. Movie, show, and book characters are also welcomed. (The sense of duty and legacy is not required but is highly recommended. If you had a beloved character die, please do not let their lack of unfinished business, etc discourage you from sharing with us.) OC's may be allowed. I haven't really decided yet. I say go for it for now, if they died and broke hearts doing so.
Rules: Only supportive speech will be used. It's ok if you don't care about someone else's character as much as they do, but don't say the character sucks or anything like that.
It's kind of hard to have this club and interact with it without having spoilers. But, please label them as spoilers and what the spoiler is from. Some people like a warning before a character dies so this would be a good place to find those warnings.
This is meant to be a place to vent and nerd out over our beloved characters. Even the ones we still have alive in our delusional headcanons.
I may change the rules as necessary but it will always be in the interest of keeping it a safe and unpolluted space.
I have no idea where this club will meet but if you make a post with this idea you can use #heartbreak and hope or #club of heartbreak and hope or #the club of heartbreak and hope or something like that to make your posts more findable for people in the club. (Note: I still don't understand hashtags. If they work they work. If they don't, they don't. 🤷‍♀️)
This is an idea I've had for awhile. I just hadn't thought of putting it here. I think it's best we remain a lurker style club. Kind of moving in the shadows, not really officially meeting at all. Barely existing in known media. But, we know who we are and we see each other when the tags are used and when we choose to interact with each other. That type thing. Go and do with this idea what you will. I am excited to see what happens with this. And may your broken heart find peace and healing.
Yes, there is a Cayde-6/Legends Never Die edit. I saw that it existed but haven't been able to bring myself to watch it. I just don't think I could handle the pain. Maybe someday. Eyes up Guardians.
youtube
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I shared an extra edit because I came across it.
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the-past-in-words · 4 months ago
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I would rather
Burn out in flames
With your light
Beside me
Than smoulder
In the dark
Choking on my pain
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itlswhatltls · 7 months ago
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Had laporta respected his initial wishes and this wouldn't be happening... fucking hell
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bgcedits · 2 years ago
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luveline · 1 month ago
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝
You try to break up with your boyfriend. Aaron just wants to know why. (And what he can do to fix it.) [4k]
c: fem, stripper!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff epilogue, suggestive themes mdni. requested here 
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
I don’t want to see you anymore. 
The text doesn’t compute at first. He reads it twice. Reads the sender’s name, his heart stopped clean in his chest. 
He puts down his pen.
The idea that the text wasn’t meant for him crosses his mind, but that might further break his heart. He knows you have clients, but you don’t contact them outside of the club. 
His second thought is that he’d been a client unknowingly, but he made it clear to you those few months ago that he liked you as you, not as a service provider, and not as something to be bought. You thought he was trying to acquire you as a private escort. He explained it as what it was truthfully, if vulnerably.
He’s being broken up with, he surmises. Over text. By a woman he adores, who he’d thought was happy. Aaron opens his phone to call you, clicking your contact, bringing it to his ear. You don’t answer. He calls again and he’s clearly declined three rings in. 
He puts his phone down and has a few minutes of unbreathable heartbreak. Just a few minutes, his hand to his stomach, trying to think of things as reasonably as he can. 
Aaron doesn’t care that you’re a stripper. He might’ve at first. Denied his attraction to you, because of course he had feelings for you when you were standing against the side of the club in your dancing lingerie, who wouldn’t fall in love with you? Every fool lucky enough to see you undressed must assume the same thing. He thought it wouldn’t work, and that you’d never be interested in a man like him. 
Interviews for information lended themselves to rare moments of conversation. He liked how you talked, how your eyes moved to his, the way you watched his mouth. Your unusual friendship with Spencer drew you closer, and activated a rare seed of jealousy within him that helped him place you in his life. He had real, tangible feelings for you. 
And now it’s over. 
He scrunches his eyes closed and gets up from his desk. Puts his coat on, but leaves his things where they are on his desk. 
“Hotch?” Morgan asks as he descends the steps down from his office into the bullpen. 
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” 
“What happened?” 
Aaron turns to Morgan, hiding his panic as well as he’s able to. “I have a small emergency. It’s fine. Can you make sure things are okay here?” 
“Hotch?” Morgan asks again. 
Aaron keeps on going. He tries your number again on the way down. Three times, a fourth by the time he’s at the parking garage. 
The fifth time, you answer. 
He almost breaks the phone, its plastic body creaking in his hand. “Honey?” he asks. 
“I don’t want to see you anymore, Aaron. Is it hard to understand?” 
He’s taken aback. Some part of him had held onto the hope that it was a mistake. “Yes,” he says slowly, struggling to pull his keys out as his car comes into view, “it is.” 
“I don’t want to be with you.” 
“Have I upset you?” 
“Would that make it easier?” 
“No. I don’t think anything would make it any easier. Honey, this feels so sudden. Can’t we talk about it?” 
“I don’t want to see you.” 
“Please.” He can’t imagine never seeing you again. Just a few days ago he was sitting at the dinner table with you laughing opposite, your socked toes brushing his ankle. “Please, give me the chance to fix this.” 
“Aaron, it’s not really fixable. Please don’t call me again.”
“Y/N,” he says, firmer now. Anger leaks into his tone —what’s going on? “Let me come over. We need to talk about this.” 
“No–”
“It’s not fair to me for you to do it over the phone.” 
“…Okay. Fine. I’m at home, but I have work at six.” 
“I’m on my way.” 
He hangs up. Your terse allowance is all he needs to get in the car and drive, checking his watch. There’s plenty of time between now and six. He can figure out what’s wrong and hopefully change your mind.
He thinks about it more seriously as he’s parking outside of your place. Perhaps he doesn’t want to change your mind. You aren’t acting like you, none of your kindness can be found in such a swift dismissal, but he thinks of your foot under the table, your sock rubbing along his ankle without comment. 
He takes the stairs to your apartment. It’s not the nicest place to stay, but it’s far from a slum, either. He doesn’t worry about you when you’re home beyond the usual everyday fears: Is she eating? Sleeping? Having a good day? 
Now he’s thinking, What did I do? 
He gets to your apartment and pauses at the threshold. After a moment's deliberation, he knocks. 
“Come in, Aaron.” 
He pulls down the handle and lets himself in. You’ve mail piled on the sideboard and your shoes tucked under it, a coat rack further in bragging scarves and coats and jackets of all different colours. He’s always liked the interior of your apartment. It doesn’t feel as cold as his own, parts of your personality peeking in through everything, from the flowered tiles in the bathroom to the glass lampshade in the bedroom. 
You’re sitting in the kitchen with the light off. “Hey,” he says, voice already laden with relief he doesn’t mean to share. 
“Hi.” 
“Can I sit down?” 
You gesture for him to do as he likes. 
Aaron sits down at your table. It’s a small square just big enough to share dinner, plain wood edged in a darker slate grey outline. Sometimes when you’re feeling especially pretty, you’ll lean heavily on an elbow and grin at him, enticing him in for a kiss.
“What’s this all about?” he asks quietly. 
“I just think we’re… at the end of our relationship.” 
You don’t sound truthful. He knew there was something strange in your voice over the phone. 
“What’s making you feel that way?” 
“Does it matter?” 
Again, avoiding and evasive. 
He meets your gaze unflinchingly. “I care about you. I love you,” he says. “I know I can’t be who you pictured for yourself, and if you really can’t see a future for us, then… I’ll have seen it alone. I just wish I could understand this sudden change. Did I do something wrong?” 
“You’re not who I picture for myself,” you agree. 
“No?” he asks. 
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong, but I can’t see us together. We’re not the right fit.” 
You twist a ring around your middle finger. He thinks he’s starting to understand. “Do you think we’re not the right fit?” 
“Please don’t use your psychoanalysis on me.” 
“It’s not psychoanalysis, sweetheart, it’s– I know you.” He grimaces. “I’d like to think I do. And I’m allowing myself the audacity to believe you were happy with me just a few days ago. What happened between then and now to change your mind?” 
You stare at your two-toned table. Your mouth opens to talk, little but air making it out. Your shoulders begin tightening like you’ve been keyed between them, twisting and twisting. 
“What do you want me to say?” you ask. 
Dramatic, he’d hope you could say you don’t love him, or don’t care about him enough to let him convince you the rest of the way. “Is this really what you want?” he asks instead. 
Your staring turns to squinting. With a start, he watches a small tear drip from the corner of your eye to your nostril, to your cupid's bow. 
“No,” you say carefully, “it’s not what I want. I don’t like you being against me.” 
“Then what’s making you feel this way?” 
You cover your eyes with one hand. “I wanted to do this over the phone,” you say in a squeeze. 
He reaches for you but doesn’t touch. “I couldn’t let you.” 
“I just want you to be happy,” you say, so high he can barely understand you. “I’ll never be like you, Aaron. You’re so smart, and you’ve done so much. You’re a hero, and you must look so stupid with me. What do you think people say when they realise what I am?” 
“It doesn’t matter to me what they say. I know you, and they don’t.”
“What about what I think?” 
“What do you think?” 
You wipe your face roughly, eyes lit with an anger he’s unprepared for. “I told you, don’t psychoanalyse me. I don’t want to have to explain it, I just want to say what I have to say. I don’t want to be with you because you won’t be happy, and neither will I.” 
Aaron isn’t too prideful to recognise when he needs to fight for what he wants. He reaches over the table and takes your arm into his hand, picking it up, feeling down The length of it until he’s curled his hand over your smaller fingers. “We are happy,” he says softly, giving your hand a small shake. “I understand where you’re coming from. When we first met, I couldn’t have predicted that I’d be here with you now. I do wonder what people think when they ask me what you do and I tell them you’re a performer. I know we agreed to it, but there are moments where I feel like I’m being cruel to you. But just because there’s a stigma surrounding what you do, it doesn’t mean that you’re any lesser than me. You’re not less intelligent, or less accomplished. We chose different paths and I’m glad we did. If you weren’t a dancer I never would’ve met you.” 
“Do you know how it feels for me to come home to you sometimes?” you ask weakly. 
“I’d hope it feels as it does for me. Every time I see you, I’m relieved.” 
“Aaron, I get this rush of safety, like you’re– I’m finally safe. I can take care of myself, you know that, but now I have you it’s that I don’t even want to. And that’s stupid. I know that that’s stupid.” 
“What I’m thinking,” he says, soft, not as worried about being without you now as he is of the horrible way you’re feeling, “is that you’ve thought about all of this a lot. I’m glad you’ve taken time to reflect on us and your life, but I wish you’d thought more about what we both want.” 
“I want you to be happy,” you argue, as you had a few moments ago. 
“And I’m never happier than when we’re together.” He shrugs. “Love isn’t about work. Your job shapes you as mine shapes me, but you have to know that who you are is what’s important.” 
“I don’t know who I am…” 
“I know exactly who you are,” he says, rubbing a loving thumb over your knuckles. 
“I’m… I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you, on the phone. I knew if I talked to you like this I’d be too much of a coward to really see it through.” 
“I see. You’ve planned my heartbreak weeks in advance.” 
You shake your head sadly. “Aaron, we’re not good for each other. You make me this awful, weak version of me, and I’m no good.” 
“We have been nothing but happy since we met.” Aaron pulls your hand up and kisses the side of your wrist. He isn’t ashamed of you. He doesn’t make you weak, you aren’t. “I don’t know how to explain it. Sometimes it feels like we’re from different worlds, but it’s not that melodramatic. You’re my partner. I love you. It’s hard not to think about what others think of us, but I know exactly what I think of you, and I know what you think of me, too.” 
You share a look. 
“I’ve never heard you talk so much,” you say, your frown fading. “I’m sorry.” 
“You haven’t done anything wrong.” 
“When I thought I couldn’t get any more embarrassing,” you mumble. 
“You aren’t embarrassing. Please, put the thought out of your head.” 
“Thought out of my head,” you repeat, still mumbling as you flex your fingers, pushing them between his and intertwining your hands. You bring them linked to your forehead and take a heavy breath. 
“Do you really want to break up?” he asks softly. 
Your breath warms his arm. “No.” 
“You can have the things you want, you know? I imagine that there are people who laugh when I tell them about you, but you have to know that their opinions would never matter to me.” He pulls his hand from your head to encourage you to meet his eyes. “No one else matters but me and you. We don’t have to factor in other people. We can just be together.” 
“I’m not worth all the fuss,” you say under your breath. 
“What, this fuss? Honey, a few weeks ago you cried in my lap because I got you that cake from the bakery. And you know what? I didn’t want you to cry, but getting to rub your back?” He chances a smile. “That made my night.” 
“You like making girls cry.” 
“Yes,” he says, trying not to grin like a fool as you stand from your chair and put yourself in front of him. He is no saint. He pulls you onto his thighs and wraps an arm around the small of your back, your legs either side of him. “That’s my goal in life, sweetheart.” His voice falls to a whisper as you hang your head against him, tip of your nose to a rough cheek. “Making you cry…” 
Your arms creep to his neck. Resting on him, rather than hugging. He doesn’t mind, he’ll do the hard work. 
“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 
“It’s okay.” He turns your face with his to press his lips to your cheek. “It’s alright, honey, bumps in the road happen with everyone.” 
“All my fault.” 
“Maybe next time, if you feel so strongly about something, you can just extend me that little bit of faith and… know that I’m here for you. Even if it did mean we wouldn’t be together, it doesn’t have to be that you’re alone, making such a big decision. Valiant,” he adds, enjoying the warmth of you seeping into his shirt, his face, his neck where your wrist is laid against it. “You’re not a coward. But I wish you wouldn’t be this brave about breaking my heart.” 
“Stop making me feel guilty.” 
His laugh is a breath against your cheek. “No, it’s fine, isn’t it? Use me and abuse me.” 
“Shut up. Stop, what is this weird guilt tripping you’re doing?” You laugh at his absurdity. “I’d never abuse you.” 
“I know. Just step on me a bit.” 
“Stop, stop,” you mumble, your voice turning slowly from self-pitying to honey, all that love for him he knew you still had like threads of gold shooting through it, “I don’t wanna step on you, I never would…” 
“Just rough me up a little.” 
“Never.” You press your face to his neck. “Thank you for not letting me do it.” 
“I won’t let you go so easily.” His hand trails up your back, feeling the softness of you beneath your t-shirt. Fat, muscle, all of it familiar, and treasured by his touching. 
He squeezes you rather tightly, then, but you don’t complain, you just sigh. 
“It’s not that you’re not who I picture for myself, like I said before,” you confess, leaning all your weight against him, barely held up by your legs either side of him. “You weren’t, but I didn’t realise that I could have you. I didn’t really know men like you existed. I should’ve known I was looking in the wrong age bracket.” 
“That’s not very nice. In my line of work they call that a feedback sandwich, honey. Something cruel between nice things to distract me.” 
“Sorry. Just had to get it in.” 
He considers your teasing a return to normalcy, guiding your head away from his with a hand to the back of your neck. “If this was a ploy to make me leave work early, consider it successful.” 
“I know your attention usually falls to other places, Mr. Hotchner–” You burst into giggles as he pinches the back of your neck, but it’s only to pull you in for a kiss, smiling against your parted lips as your laughter fades away.
You scrunch his shirt in your hand and kiss him nicely. 
“Sorry,” you say. 
“Forgiven.” Even if he did almost go into cardiac arrest at his desk. “I like begging to stay. It builds character.” 
“How long will you be like this?” you ask, shaking your head slowly, your smile poorly hidden. 
You’d needed a reminder, is all. Aaron isn’t solely business and sternness, he’s an idiot, your idiot, who likes to tease you, and doesn’t care who knows that. When he’s working he’s one person, and when he’s with you, he’s another. Both have their qualities and faults, but only one version is the one he needs to be with you. 
“At my age it’s perfectly normal to have a young and beautiful wife,” he says. “You’ve seen some of the other Section’s worker’s wives.” 
“I’m not that young,” you say. 
“So you admit it?” 
You reward him with a tired sigh, cuddling into his collar. 
…I'll never be your beast of burden. So let's go home and draw the curtains…
Aaron’s humming from the bedroom. He knows every classic rock song to exist, every word to every Beatles song. When the chorus comes, he sings under his breath, but you can hear him regardless. “Am I rough enough, am I rich enough? I’m not too blind…” he fades off. 
The music hums under your feet. Record player open on the floor, his Some Girls vinyl on the plate. 
You press a hand down your side. 
To inspire less worry on your part, you and Aaron are trying to be more open about the other sides of your lives. His work feels alien to you, and you worry that yours is dirty to him, despite reassurance that a job is a job. You know that already, but you can’t make yourself believe that he’s as happy as he could be if you were, say, a checkout girl. 
You’d make a cute checkout girl, he’d said. 
This is cute, too. Babydoll lingerie with feather edgings, starkly white against your skin. You fluff out the ends and neaten the crotch of your panties. Nothing is on show that shouldn’t be, but it’s still lingerie. It’s meant to excite. 
“Honey,” he says, dulcet tone carrying to the bathroom, “are you stuck again?” 
You laugh. “I bet you hope so.” 
“That’s accusatory in nature.” 
“I’m coming.” You give it a last glance in the mirror and head into the bedroom. 
Aaron’s sat against your headboard, flowery pillowcases behind his head and back. He discards the little figurine he’d been playing with out of boredom and looks you up and down, corners of his lips curling. 
“Home only,” he says. 
“I knew you’d say that.” 
“You look stunning.” His eyes seem darker. All pupil. 
“I have to wear some of these at the club, Aaron, that’s why I bought them.” 
Something in your voice makes him smile. “You said I could veto the ones that are too beautiful.” 
“I said too slutty.” 
“Honey, they’re all revealing in their ways. And I don’t have a problem with it…” He takes a breath. “Much. But some of these are meant for…” 
“The man who loves me?”
“Exactly.” 
He’d said something similar about the light blue set with darker flowers, the black set that showed the curves of your chest, and especially about the pink one-piece with white ribbons. That one gave him pause. 
“Spin?” he asks. 
One day it might bother Aaron that you dance, but for now he’s gently approving. Just wants you to be happy. So you do a little spin without any attempt to be sexy and beam when he whistles. 
“Beautiful. Really, honey, that’s the nicest so far.” 
“I have a confession.” 
“Yeah?” 
“This one was for you.” 
He’d know if you were lying. “For me?” he says, in that tone bordering stern, as much of his professionalism as you’re used to hearing these days. 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Don’t,” he says, seductions gone as he tips his head back into a pillow patterned with lavender and peony. “Unless you’re done trying those on, I don’t want to hear it.” 
“This is the last one.” 
“In that case.” He covers his face with a cushion. 
You look down. Your stomach is a little bloated from lunch, and you have a shaving rash on your left knee, but Aaron won’t mind. He never does. Without worry, you tread to the side of the bed and climb onto it, one leg over his lap. The last time you’d been sitting in his lap, you’d been teary-eyed and regretful. Fuck, what was I thinking? you ask yourself, slipping a hand under his rising shirt to feel his abdomen. It’ll never not be weird, the FBI man and his stripper girlfriend, but it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but him and you. 
You ease the pillow down his face. 
“Are you blushing, Aaron?” you ask. 
“Not purposefully.” 
“You look a little… hot.” 
“That makes two of us.” 
It starts slowly. The heat of you atop him, the pillows moved out of the way. You didn’t expect him to stay unbothered as you paraded your new spoils, but his willpower is remarkable, and he only breaks when you let yourself settle on his lap. His big hand cups your face. 
“That’s funny.” You lift up enough to be in kissing range, but don’t kiss. You just wait for him to react, holding your weight off of his chest. 
He finds the small of your back and drags. Your gasp isn’t your own, a breathy, excited thing as he brings your face to his for a kiss. Your lips almost immediately part in anticipation of his eagerness, of his hand on the back of your neck, and the unflinching heat of his mouth as he turns his head. Your noses brush. He wades in deeper, his own breath already failing him as the bridges of your nose press hard. 
They aren’t rough kisses, but there’s something desperate there. He holds you to him until he can’t, ushering you onto your back, his weight bearing down sudden and steady. 
“I can’t believe I nearly lost you,” he utters, stroking your cheek, edging back in to kiss you before you can reply. 
You wrap an arm behind his back and hike your leg, soft thigh naked and waiting for his touch. You didn’t nearly lose me, you think. To be lost, you’d have to be something worth losing, and you’re not sure you are, but Aaron? 
“I don’t think you could,” you mumble, forcing him to kiss your cheek, your jaw, the line of your throat. He nips at your neck, a shudder racing through you. 
“I have no intent of letting it come that close again, sweetheart.” 
His hand dances up your side to the soft hill of your chest. 
You hold the hair from his face and let him kiss you. He’s here to stay, no matter how odd a pairing you might make. You love him. That’s all he cares about. 
“Want me to do that thing you like?” you offer softly, mildly playful. 
He laughs into your neck. “No,” he says, “I think tonight is about you, hm? You’re all dressed up. I think that deserves a reward.” 
You knew he’d like the white babydoll. 
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
1K notes · View notes
wcters · 2 months ago
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𝗜 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨, 𝗜’𝗠 𝗦𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗬
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pairing: lando norris x fem!singer!reader
summary: the falling out of one of formula one’s favourite couple
warnings: angst, cheating, get ready to get angryyyy, swearing, some crack, lando is the bad guy in this (sorry) | faceclaim is gracie abrams (my girl), this was honestly soo fun to write, let me know if you want a part two…. and if it should be with lando or someone else 😙😙
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f1gossip
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liked by user1, user2, and 24,973 others
f1gossip lando norris seen out a club in monaco with a mysterious women. is there trouble in paradise between lando norris and his current girlfriend, y/n y/l/n?
view all 126 comments
user1 ummm what?
user2 lando . . . what did you do
user3 i cant defend this one
user4 did they break up??
↳ user5 i kind of hope he did or else he’s cheating on her
user6 this HAS TO be a prank
user7 rue… when was this?
user8 if they broke up, WHAT’S HAPPENING WITH BERNIE
↳ user9 who’s bernie?
↳ user8 their dog, cutest thing ever
yourusername
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liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, and 545,973 others
yourusername i miss you, i’m sorry out now 🤍 i poured my heart and soul, and some tears, into this song. hope you all like it❤️‍🩹
view all 2,375 comments
user1 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN
user2 lando when i catch you lando
lilymhe so proud of you ❤️
user4 is this confirmation they broke up??
alexandrasaintmleux truly a piece of art 💞 always here
francisca.cgomes you’re so brave ❤️ missing you
user5 y/n you’re breaking my heart
danielricciardo we’ve all got your back ❤️
↳ heidiberger_ hell yeah we do!
user6 what do lily’s and daniel’s comments mean?
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f1gossip
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liked by user1, user2, and 34,901 others
f1gossip lando norris seen with the same mysterious girl from the night out in monaco in the paddock. is it over between lando and y/n?
view all 275 comments
user1 did you guys see the looks of disgust from the girls
↳ user2 they were planning on how to kill him
user3 he really fucked this one up
user4 y/n was there too but with daniel at his garage this time
↳ user5 he’s such a good friend to her
↳ user6 she avoided the mclaren garage at all times 😭 she’s obviously so heartbroken. and there was so many times where the girls were hugging her
user7 so is this conformation??
landonorris added to their story!
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yourusername posted to their story!
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yourspam
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liked by artsyfartsyalex, totallynotdaniel, and 23 others
yourspam at least breaking up with someone creates a good album . . . but what was that fake ass story?
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artsyfartyalex oh jolie fille ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
totallynotdaniel let’s run him over
↳ yourusername DANNY NO
↳ totallynotdaniel DANNY YES
professionalchili baby 😢😢 we can send the cats after him
↳ lilyswag we totally can
↳ yourusername you don’t need to, just let me see them againnn
smoothoperator i’m prepared to push him out of the next race
↳ tposebrat same
↳ lilyswag same
↳ simbasmom same
↳ yourusername girl 💀 you can’t drive an f1 car
↳ simbasmom i can find a way
nascarpastry sincerely apologize for my teammate
↳ yourusername you are too sweet 🥺 thank you oscar
berniethedog flame his ass
↳ yourusername daniel is this you?
↳ berniethedog noooo
newgirlfriend
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liked by landonorris, user1, and 204,863 others
newgirlfriend this happens once every few lifetimes 🤍
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user1 she did not….
user2 ����😐😐
landonorris 🖤
user3 not the black and white hearts…. she’s literally trying to copy y/n with the white and hearts…. and he’s playing along
danielricciardo 🤨🤨🤨
↳ user4 he’s thinking the same thing we are
↳ user5 on the public account too
user6 daniel is so real for that reaction
user7 i feel so bad for y/n, first the breakup and then this
youusername
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, 809,768 others
yourusername good riddance coming to you in 5 days🤍 this was written with all my emotion and love and heartbreak. big thank you to my friends and family for being by my side through this, especially daniel and heidi for being my number one fans. i love you both so much 😭😭
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danielricciardo streaming it right when it’s out!
user1 lando norris is my opp
user2 i’m not ready 😭😭😭
user3 i know he said it was mutual but her lyrics say different…
alexandrasaintmleux me, charles and leo are streaming it now!
user4 my heart is actually breaking with these lyrics
user5 “and i swear to god, i’d kill you if i loved you less hard” BABE
lilymhe beautiful ❤️
oscarpiastri great album!
↳ user6 he’s so awkward 😭
↳ user7 he’s got the spirit though
user8 even oscar’s on y/n’s side
user9 if you look at the credits for 405 it mentions daniel as a guitarist 😭😭 they love each other so much
newgirlfriend so good!
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do not answer ‼️
do not answer ‼️
hey, can we talk?
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il-miele-che-scrive · 11 months ago
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you know what people are saying when a girl gets cheated on? go for his brother.
a/n not tryna offend anyone, I just love a lil drama
Part 2 here
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username1 Miss Y/n Y/l/n getting cheated on? No one is safe fr
↳username2 Yeah cuz how's he casually cheating on a literal goddess??
username3 they were together for almost 2 years😭
username4 My therapist will hear about this
↳username1 And Arthur is paying the bill
username5 that's it I'm NEVER trusting a man
username6 Isn't that girl Y/n's friend too? Poor girl getting cheated on twice
↳username3 yes it is 😭 guess Arthur got it from his brother
username7 Except Charles didn't cheat 😭 he's a homie hopper but he got morals
username8 I don't worry about Y/n, she's gonna find a new bf, but she wasted almost 2 years on him
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yourusername excuse my state i'm as high as your hopes
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username2 Miss girl about to enter her hoe phase
↳username3 As she should tbh
charlottesiine Lots of fun last night🤍
↳yourusername nothing will beat an ex wags night out
↳username2 best ex wags fr 😭
yoursister Next time I'm going too to keep an eye on you wtf
username4 Wait so Y/n and Charlotte are friends? When did this happen?
↳username5 Yeah cuz we've never seen them hang out back when ChaCha was a thing and suddenly the girls are partying together?
↳username6 I mean it could be just a "we both suffered a Leclerc so let's hang out" kinda thing
username5 WE BOTH SUFFERED A LECLERC 💀 no okay but that's valid
username7 Am I the only one noticing this post was liked by Charles?
↳username2 He knows his lil bro messed up lmao
username8 Okay guys so what are we betting on - did Charles like this post because of Y/n or because of Charlotte? Also, isn't he in a relationship?
↳username3 Charles has been single for a few months now, he's free to like whoever he wants lmao
↳username9 It's just a like it's not that deep
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arthur_leclerc You were my cup of tea but I drink vanilla latte now
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username1 The AUDACITY some men have
username2 and she was her best friend 😭
username3 I really want to believe they broke up before he got with the best friend but I don't think it's true
↳username4 Y/n and Arthur literally attended Charles' race a few days before we got the pics of Arthur with the other girl
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yourusername you don't mean nothing at all to me
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yoursister And I didn't even have to stop you from calling your ex
↳yourusername why would I even wanna call him anyways
yoursister Riiight, you were too busy getting to know some other interesting people:)
username1 What is Y/s/n talking about?
↳username2 Or rather WHO is she talking about?
username3 No Charlotte in the post but Charles is in the likes again 😶
↳username4 Have you seen what this one gossip page posted? Charles being in the likes isn't the thing I'd worry about here
username5 WHAT.
username3 Care to elaborate?
username4 Charles was also at the club with Y/n. It honestly looks like it was organized by a friend of his and he took Y/n there
username2 OH
username2 That's what Y/s/n is talking about
username5 Our girl Y/n is getting promoted from F2 to F1 and I love to see that
↳username6 LMAO it's so funny because it's true 😭
↳username2 Do we know who else was at this party?
username4 Allegedly the party was organized by Gasly, so obviously there was his gf Kika, but also some fellow drivers like Albon, Russell, Sainz, Ocon, Ricciardo and their gfs
username5 I was joking but now it looks like Y/n is actually becoming an F1 wag now lol
username7 Gossip girl on wheels I've been saying it for months
username8 But the caption SLAPS
↳username9 no because it looks like Y/n and Arthur are having a caption war lol it's funny
username8 It's childish but let a girl heal from a heartbreak in peace
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yourusername karma will take it from here
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username1 MISS GIRL?? WHO IS THE MAN??
↳username2 We all know it's Charles (allegedly)
username8 Nah cuz I told yall she's gonna find another boyfriend soon
yoursister Loving to see you happy again ❤️
↳yourusername just needed a little upgrade
username3 I have no proof but I just know it's Charles
username4 Do we think she went for Charles because she genuinely likes him or just to get back at Arthur?
↳username5 Wait until someone starts a "she cheated on Arthur with Charles" gossips
username6 My two favorite red flags
↳username7 The homie hopper and the brother hopper, a match made in heaven
username6 The homie hopper is so real, Y/n recently hung out with his ex Charlotte 💀
username8 What kinda brother gets with his brother's ex?
↳username9 Imagine the next family dinner lmao
username10 Y'all it's not even confirmed that the man is Charles, y'all are crazy
↳username6 The post was liked by all the F1 drivers and their partners that were on the party from Y/n's previous post, it says a lot
↳username2 What @/username6 said and also Y/n is now followed by half of the F1 grid AND the wags
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charles_leclerc Not your cup of tea, but my glass of wine
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yourusername KARMA IS MY BOYFRIEND❤️
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peachysunrize · 5 months ago
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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]
Completed!
Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.
Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity
Warnings: modern au, old money! Targaryens, Smut (18+ mdni!), fluff, angst, summer romance, every chapter will have individual warnings<3
Author’s note: welcome to the first actual series that I’m sharing!! I really really wanted to start a summer romance series for Aemy and this thought and idea came up so suddenly and here we areeee. This is just a sunshine fic with a tinge of heartbreak and possible future angst, but all in all it’s a happy story because Aemond deserves some happiness! Reblogs & comments are most appreciated and I deeply hope you like this as much as I do while writing it<3💕
Taglist: ITS CLOSED!!!! if you wish to be tagged on the future chapters, please fill this form! (Fill it with your username!)
Character ages<3
Series Masterlist⬎
Chap.1 -> runaway bride
Chap.2 -> under the Weirwood tree
Chap.3 -> the beginning of something new
Chap.4 -> Push & Pull
Chap.5 -> kissing his heart
Chap.6 -> a summer worth living
Chap.7 -> country club
Chap.8 -> ruins of a birthday
Chap.9 -> don’t let me be misunderstood
Chap.10 -> falling forever
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coco-loco-nut · 7 months ago
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Father’s Day
pairing: max verstappen x reader
summary: max is dating an international star
a/n: i literally had this idea last night and had to write a short blurb, i promise i am writing other stuff tho 🫶
masterlist
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y/username happy father’s day, daddy. i love you and your big…
maxverstappen1 anything to share with me?
y/username not pregnant, just letting everyone know how turned on you get me
maxverstappen1 love you too, schat
user12 anyone else not getting it, like she is so hot and he is 😬
y/username you know that one barbie scene with the rock? that’s my maxie. also if you think he’s ugly, that’s fine, more of him for me 😍
user98 Y/N BARBIE FAN CONFIRMED
y/username priority 1: old barbie movies priority 2: max
user3 ON THE MAIN?
user33 PR monster got her, I really wanna know what she was about to say
recordlabel we don’t… we actually want bleach for our eyes
redbullracing we will share our bleach if you send us demos of her next album 👀
charlesleclerc Go on, finish the sentence, I dare you.
y/username his big heart, ego, ass, trophy case, therapy bill from childhood trauma, i could keep going on but i don’t want to make you feel emasculated
user62 okay, but like how did he bag her?
y/username he has incredible rizz, and look at him🤤
“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you grin as Max lays on you lap, looking up at you with his beautiful blue eyes.
“You aren’t pregnant, Schat,” he laughs, your fingertips gently scratching his scalp.
“We could change that, get some practice in for after the wedding?” you watch his eyes widen as he quickly sits up.
“Practice makes perfect, why don’t we practice now?” Max suggests, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.
Your wedding is small, only some close friends and family in attendance. The ceremony takes place in your backyard, no reception beyond a dinner afterwards.
Despite both your respective fame levels, you didn’t want anyone knowing of the marriage. Fans still thought you were dating, so when you got a positive pregnancy test, you were extra careful.
Max was grateful that you had a private recording studio in the house, for when you needed to drop the album. You didn’t mean to choose the surprise drop date to be at the end of your pregnancy, nor Father’s Day, but life worked in funny ways.
“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you softly say, handing the little bundle off to Max.
“This is the best present, he’s beautiful,” Max hold back tears as he holds his son close to his chest.
“I’m not sure if I will be able to top this next year,” you laugh a little, your tiredness making an apparent after a long labor.
“You should take a nap, I’ll be okay with him,” Max runs a hand though your sweaty hair. To him, you’ve never looked more perfect.
“I have one thing to do first,” you yawn, pulling out your phone. Max slides into the hospital bed beside you, you immediately nestle into him, his warmth enveloping you.
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y/username SURPRISE! midnight rain is out now! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it for the past four years. There is so much in my life that happened, so enjoy my journey through heartbreak, love, and growth. I want to quickly thank Max and my team for making this possible 💙
user1 AHHH this is so good, but didn’t she and Max break up? Why is she thanking him?
user3 dude, i think they are married, did you listen to everything else
user4 yeah, she had some songs about marriage, but she hasn’t been at any races since last year
user10 did y’all see the statement saying there won’t be a tour for the album?? crying in the club
user11 Okay, but Robin?? secret child??
maxverstappen1 endlessly proud of you, schatje
user5 we get it bro, she wrote Dress and The Alchemy about you
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maxverstappen1 our little robin decided to hatch 💙
danielricciardo So happy for you and Y/n, mate. Big day for the Verstappen family, can’t wait to hold the little guy!
y/username he will love his Uncle Danny
y/username he’s perfect, just like his daddy
redbullracing what a gift for father’s day! sending our gift to you 💙
user42 guys, y/n’s song credits changed…
user21 OMG MAX AND Y/N ARE MARRIED AND THEY HAVE A KID???
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valentinegab3 · 6 months ago
Text
BTS story recommendations
This is a list of fics I have personally read and a mix of fics I still have to read. It will continuously be updated with new quality fics that I read or see on my for you page. All of these are so good and the authors are absolutely amazing writers. I hope you enjoy!
a - angst | s - smut | f - fluff
Jungkook
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Never Been a Friend > brother's bsf!jk, bratty!reader
Raven Unit @themfchase - Series [6/6] | 60.9k |  political au, taskforce au, war crime, suspense, feat OT7, president’s daughter!OC, soldier!jungkook | s, a, f
The Good Soldier@thewanderingalias - Series [12/12] | 44k | military au, war au, medic!reader, sergeant!jungkook | a , s (heavy angst, minor char ☠️)
We Can't Be Friends @joonberriess - Oneshot | 9.8k | exes to lovers | a , s
Coquet @shina913 -Series [11/11] | 77.7k | Escort!JJK x Fem-reader, Fake-dating!AU; Strangers to lovers | f , a , s
Just Take It @ahgasegotarmy116 - Series [6/7] | Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap), cheating, pregnancy | s, a
Horny for My Bestie @jkslipppiercing - Oneshot | 8.5k | Bsf!oc, horny!jk. | s , a
Dont get attached @xoxomoonlightxoxo -Series | 6.8k | ex-boyfriend jungkook x y/n, toxic relationship, cheating, attachment issues, possessiveness | s , a
Strictly Platonic @jeonqkooks - Oneshot | 19.4k | best friends to lovers, college au, fake dating au | f , a , s
Lonely Hearts Club @joonbird - Oneshot | 18k | tattoo artist au, angst, smut, dystopian/sci-fi AU | A , s ( I dont think this ever got completed so if you enjoy open ended stories this is your cup of tea)
Lemon Sherbet @extravaguk - Oneshot | 15k | summer!au, ex highschool classmates, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist/piercing artist!junkook, popular!reader | f , a , s
Set On You @bymoonchild - Oneshot | 18.1k | volleyball!AU, college!AU, setter Jungkook x manager reader | f , s
Cat Got Your Tongue? @jessikahathaway - Oneshot | 18.1k | College!AU, FWB to Lovers, Romance | s , little bit of a
The Reaper @deepdarkdelights - Oneshot | 14k | Yandere Mercenary Jungkook x  Reader | s
Está Dañada @aquagustd - Oneshot | 20k | neighbor au, slow burn, singer!JK, strong language, pining, dog dad JK, really soft JK, toxic relationship + mentions of infidelity (not between Y/N & JK) | S , a , f
Stay @lolabangtan - series [16/16] | 155k | mutual pining, jock!Jungkook, ex queen bee!noona reader, college AU, enemies to lovers, roommates AU, side Jimin x OC, fake dating, pining, bets, slow burn, forced proximity.| s , a
Tantalizing @littlemisskookie - Series [ 8/8] | 48.3k | Past highschool classmates in college, fwb!jungkook and nerd!reader | a , s
Microwave (Mis)adventures @bymoonchild - Oneshot | 20k | college!AU, roommates/housemates!AU, enemies to lovers!AU, | f, a , s
Cruel Intentions @explicit-tae - Series [5/5] | 80.7k | Mafia!Jungkook, x reader, yandere themes | s , a
The Devil's Change Up @jungblue - Oneshot | 41.3k | Pitcher!Jungkook x reader, baseball player au, college | s , f , a
Candles & Flames @taegularities - Series [4/4] | 100.8k | enemies to lovers, royal!au, fake dating, fuckboy!jk, royal!jk, lies, jealousy | a , f , s
Employed @personasintro - Series [tbd] | tbd | ceo!jungkook x reader, enemies to lovers | a , s , f
The Art of War More @kpopfanfictrash - Oneshot | 42.4k | Jungkook x reader, Enemies to Lovers/ College!AU, Hockey!AU, | a , s , f
⭐Ideations Concerning Real Life Relations @venusiangguk - Oneshot | 40.9k | jungkook x reader / fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc, heartbreak | ANGST, s , tiny f
Safety Net @pradaksj - Series [2/2] | 40k | Jungkook x reader, enemies to friends, friends to lovers, roommates au, boxer!jk, pining | a , s , f
After I left You @latetaektalk - Oneshot | 38.9k | Jungkook x reader, exes!AU, fake dating!AU, enemies to lovers-ish!AU, unrequited feelings-ish!AU. | a , f
Glitter and Disquiet @joheunsaram - Series [2/2] | 38.8k | ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader,  chaebol!au,  virgin!Jungkook,  open relationships | a , s , f
It Takes Two @junghelioseok - Oneshot | 29.8k | fake dating!au, roommate!au | s , a , f
A Holiday Snowdown @kpopfanfictrash - Oneshot | 36.3k | Jungkook x reader, Enemies to Lovers, Ski Resort!AU, Snowboarder!AU | s , a , f
How To Get A Guy @taeshobipop - Series [2/2] | 35.9k |  Jungkook x Reader | [slight] Yoongi x Reader, roommates!au, college!au, fuckboi!jk, enemies to friends to lovers, basketball player!Jungkook, basketball captain!Yoongi | a , s , f
Twelve Hours @whatifyoulivelikethat - Series [2/2] | 23k | jungkook x reader; implied taehyung x reader, film director!Jungkook x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader — ft best man, art trader!Kim Taehyung; dancer's bodyguard!Kim Namjoon and bodyguard!Kim Seokjin. Distantly knew eachother since highschool. | s , a , f
Airplane, pt.2 @xjoonchildx - Series [6/6] | 22.4k | criminal!jk, koreanamerican! jungkook, unrealistic af but good | s
By It's Cover @gimmesumsuga - Oneshot | 21k | jungkook x reader | s
ungodly hour (six parts) + drabble @explicit-tae - Series | 21.5k| Jungkook x reader | s
Hidden Stars @jungblue - Series [5/5+] completed | 37.4k | jungkook x reader, idol!AU | a , s
Lost and Found @kooktrash - Oneshot | 18.7k | Jungkook x reader, mid-20’s friendships | s, a
And They Were Roommates @hoseok666 - Series [6/7] In progress | 70.5k | jungkook x reader/taehyung x reader strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, college!jungkook AU, college!taehyung AU, tsundere! jungkook, warm personality taehyung, slowburn | a , s, f
Chasing Cars @oddinary4bts - Series [7.5/17] |182.9k| jungkook x reader brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others. | a, s
Falling @starshapedkookie - Oneshot | 31.4k | jungkook x female reader, soulmate/destiny au, college au, photographer jungkook, | a, s, f
Love Alive @jamaisjoons - Oneshot | 17k | Jungkook x reader, post break up au. exes to lovers au | A, s, f
⭐Falling Skies @fortunexkookie - Series [6/6] | 50k | Jungkook x reader Angst / Hurt and Comfort / Grief and Coping / Fluff / Smut / Frienemies to Lovers | s, f, a
Sugarplum Elegy @bymoonchild -Oneshot | 17.9k | Junkook x reader, College!AU, Idiots to lovers!AU, FWB!AU, Soundcloud singer!AU, pining, constipated feelings, emotionally constipated Jungkook | s, a, f
Neighbor Blunder @awrkive - Series [undetermined] | 17.8k | neighbor!jungkook x reader, bff!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, mature language. | a, f, s
I Need You @smoljimjim - Series IP [32/39] | 82k+ | married dilfJK x OC named Siri, strangers-friends-lovers, cheating au, slow burn romance, happy ending | a, f, s
Espresso @joonberriess - Oneshot | 14.6k | boxer!jk x idol!OC , jealous!jk, possessive!jk, oc’s a pillow princess | f, s
Obsession @94blazed - Twoshot [2/2] | 21.8k | Seven wednesday jungkook x reader. Fwb!jungkook, ft. Jungkook's ex. | s, f, a
For The Birds @yoonieper - Series IP [1/14+] | 12.6k + | Jungkook x reader, cheating, toxic jk, slow burn, CEO jungkook, fluff | a, s, f
Cold Nights & Blurred Lines @awrkive - Oneshot | 26.6k | Basketball player Jungkook x reader
Jimin
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Peaches & Piercings @jkangelic - Oneshot | 20k | cheerleader!reader x punk!jimin, punk!jimin, e2l, college au, jimin is a whole asshole. | s, a
Lover to lean on @sketchguk - Oneshot | 20k | neighbor!jimin x florist!reader, neighbor AU, flower shop AU, pining, unrequited love 🤔| s , f , a
[Unnamed] @honeymoonjin - Oneshot | 25k | jimin x reader roomates, cabin in amazon rainforest, shy young graduate student!jimin, butterfly studying, subby jimin | f , a , s
Oh, What a World @cutechim - Series [16/16] | 140k+ | f. lawyer!reader x solo artist!jimin, fake marriage au, fallen idol au, fuckboy!jimin, possesive!jimin, unrequited feelings | f , a , s
Believe it @writtenwhalien - Oneshot | 28.7k |  mechanic!jimin x reader friends to enemies to lovers (it’s more complicated though) | (high school + bet AU) | f , s , a
Florezco @honeymoonjin - Oneshot | 25k | Jimin x reader, cabin roommate, college graduate jimin studying the forest | f, a, s
Remote Access @fortunexkookie - Oneshot | 11k | Jimin x Reader | AU: Sex Worker AU + Roommates AU + Enemies to Lovers | s, a, f
All that Glitters @deepdarkdelights - Oneshot | 19k | Soft(ish) Yandere Jimin x  Reader, 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Touching, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Murder, Blood, Abandonment Issues, Attempted Sexual Assault (Not By Jimin), Tsundere Reader, Insinuation of Smut (It’s spicy just not very descriptive),Bullying | s?
Lover to Lean On by @sketchguk - Oneshot | 20k | neighbor!jimin x florist!reader, neighbor AU, flower shop AU, explicit language, pining, unrequited love 🤔, accidental voyeurism, unhealthy eating/sleeping habits, praise kink, body worship | a , s
Failure to Communicate @stutterfly - Oneshot | 21k | Jimin x reader, Enemies to Lovers/ College AU/ comedy | s
Blue Blood @joonbird - Oneshot | 26k | Jimin x reader, royalty au, slowburn, drama, angsty | s, a
Into the Wilderness @gukyi - Oneshot | 27k | Jimin x reader, camp counselor!au, unrequited love!au, friends to lovers!auunrequited love, camp shenanigans, awkwardness, secondhand embarrassment/hurt, ot7 cameos | a, f
Lets Get Quizzical @taleasnewastime - Oneshot | 28.6k | Jimin x reader, friends to lovers | A, s, f
Taehyung
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Exchanging Heat @jinfizz - Oneshot | 25.1k| Korean exchange/visiting student!Taehyung x (slight) tsundere!reader, mutual pining, slow burn, S2L, college au | f , s , a
The Good Boy @jkeuphoriadreamland - Series [9/9] | 43.1k | Taehyung x reader, Librarian! Taehyung, Yandere!Taehyung/ Obsessive!Taehyung, heavy flirting, unexpected advances, pining, stalking, possesive themes | s
Love Me Or We Both Go Down @gukyi - Oneshot | 32k | Kim Taehyung x female reader, enemies to lovers!au, arranged marriage!au, rich kids!au | s, a, f
Ruined @taegularities - Oneshot | 24.4k | Taehyung x female reader, strangers to lovers, fuckboy!tae, pining | a, f, s
All I Want For Christmas Is You @ladyartemesia - Oneshot | 17k | Kim Taehyung x Female Reader, Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers, jealousy and possessiveness | f, s
Seokjin
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the ex not missed @kithtaehyung - oneshot | 26.9k | romcom ; holiday au, strangers to lovers au, fake dating au | a , f , s
1K notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 4 months ago
Note
I love pogue!reader and rafe sm. I’m so excited every time you post them ❤️ what if reader realizes she’s really falling for rafe and it’s getting serious so she’s tries to self sabotage and end it. She’s thinking he’s THE kook and she’s a pogue. It can’t last and she won’t survive that heartbreak. so rafe starts to panic but then realizes what’s she’s doing by ending it so he’s just like lol no nice try I’m not going anywhere
 i would follow you home - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 3.1k
hope you enjoy, i love them too 🩵
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It was mid-afternoon, that quiet lull between lunch and dinner when the regulars started to trickle in. And like clockwork, you were wiping down the bar, mindlessly watching the condensation drip from a glass of iced tea when you saw Rafe strolling in.
He always had that cocky walk, shoulders rolled back like he owns the place, which, you guess, technically he kinda did, or at least his dad did. Cameron Development Group practically built the country club.
He spotted you and the corner of his mouth lifted in that way that made your stomach flip. God, you hated how it still got to you.
After months of this—him swinging by the bar at the end of his golf games, lounging against the counter like it was no big deal, driving you home, saving you from the storms, letting you kiss him—your heart should’ve calmed the hell down. But no, here you were, butterflies fluttering in your chest, fingers tightening around the rag you were using to clean.
You tossed it on the counter and busy yourself with stacking glasses.
“Hey, stranger.” His voice was all smooth like he knew exactly what effect it had on you. And he did. You were still a shitty liar and he learned that fast. 
You glanced up, trying to keep things cool, casual. “Hey yourself.”
He settled into one of the barstools, leaning forward, his blue eyes locking on yours. “You off soon?”
You shrugged. “Depends. Why?”
The truth was, you knew why. You knew exactly what he was asking.
He was wondering if you would have time after this—time to sneak off to that little spot by the docks where you'd been meeting up, where things between you had been getting more…a little complicated?
And that’s exactly why you needed to end this.
It’s not like you hadn’t seen it coming. You’d known for a while that whatever this thing was with Rafe, it was headed in a direction you couldn’t afford to follow. He was the poster child for Kook royalty. Born with a silver spoon and all that. Meanwhile, you were still just the bartender, a Pogue, barely scraping by. 
It started simple—quick conversations after work, long talks on the drive home, those random texts at 2 a.m. that turned into hours of you two confessing things you’d never say out loud to anyone else.
You din’t know when it shifted into this—this weird gray area where everything felt more intense. Maybe when you all but kissed him when he picked you up after the storm. That had to be it.
Because you knew how this story ended. You knew what happened when a girl like you fell for a guy like Rafe Cameron.
Heartbreak.
And you wouldn’t survive that.
“I’ve been thinking,” You blurted out, suddenly very aware of the way his eyes were still on you. Too aware. You reached for a clean glass, filling it with soda water to distract yourself. “Maybe we should… I dunno, cool it for a bit.”
His smirk faltered. “Cool it?”
“Yeah,” You shrugged again, trying to seem nonchalant, even though your heart was hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. “I mean, this was fun and all, but let’s be real—”
“Be real?”
You nodded, not daring to look up from the glass you were holding.
“We’re not exactly from the same world, Rafe. It was bound to end sooner or later. Might as well rip the band-aid off now.”
Silence. For a beat, he doesn’t say anything, and for a second you wonder if you had done it—if you’d actually convinced him that this wasn’t worth it, that he should’ve just walked away and left you with at least a sliver of your heart intact.
Then he laughed.
It wasn’t like a mocking laugh, but it was still a sound you weren’t expecting. Your eyes snapped up to his face, and you saw that damn smirk was back. Only this time, there was something softer in his eyes, something almost… amused?
“Oh, I see what this is.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking way too pleased with himself.
You frowned, instinctively grabbing a towel and wiping the counter again, trying to distract yourself from the way his eyes were making you feel seen. Too seen. 
“What?”
“You’re scared.”
Your stomach dropped. “I’m not—”
“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, standing up and rounding the bar until he was way too close, until you could smell the cologne clinging to his skin and the fresh grass scent of the golf course. He caged you in with his body, one hand gripping the counter behind you, the other reaching up to tilt your chin so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “You’re trying to push me away because you’re scared. But newsflash, sweetheart—nice try. I’m not going anywhere.”
You swallowed hard, throat tight, because damn it, he was right. He was completely, 100% right, and you hated it. You hated that he could see right through you like that, see all your fears, all the things you’d been trying so hard to bury.
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.
You didn’t know what to say because, deep down, you didn’t want to believe that it mattered to him. You wanted to believe that he saw you for more than just the girl behind the bar. But every time you let yourself get close, that voice in the back of your head reminded you that this wasn’t some fairytale.
“Rafe, you’ll get bored,” you mumbled, barely able to get the words out. “You’ll realize this was just… a phase. I mean, we’re friends, right? We can just… go back to that.”
“Go back to that?” He repeated your words slowly like he was testing them out. And then he laughed—this short, disbelieving sound that made your stomach twist, “You’re trying to run.”
“Am not.”
“You are.
“There’s nothing to run from,” You snapped, though even you didn’t believe that.
He was close enough now that you had to tilt your head almost all the way back to meet his eyes, and there was something so raw, so real in the way he was looking at you that you couldn’t breathe.
“Nothing, huh?”
“Nothing,” you managed to repeat, but the word came out more like a question than a statement. The self-doubt you’d been trying to ignore bubbled up, and you hated yourself for it. 
He leaned in closer, and you could feel his breath against your skin. “If you think there’s nothing between us, then why does it hurt so much to even think about letting it go?”
His words hit a particular soft spot, and you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping. You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that you could walk away and be fine.
But the truth was, you weren’t fine. You weren’t even close to fine.
The whole time you’d been telling yourself this was just a fling, some wild phase that would burn out eventually—because that was what made sense. You weren’t supposed to fall for the guy who came from money and lived in a mansion on the hill, while you were still sharing a room with your sister in a run-down house, after yours got destroyed, on the wrong side of the island. 
This was never supposed to be real.
“You don’t get it. You’ve never had to worry about—about someone like me not fitting into your life. You don’t have people looking at you and thinking ‘what the hell is he doing with her?’”
Rafe’s eyes softened, and his thumb brushed a light circle against your waist, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Who cares what people think? I’m not with them. I’m with you.”
You shook your head, more to yourself than to him, stepping back just enough to put some space between you.
"No. No, it’s not that simple. You don’t get it. You don’t get what it’s like to always be the one left behind. You’ll get bored, and then what? You just walk away and I’m the one left picking up the pieces."
He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done.
"And don't say you won’t, because everyone does! I’ve seen this before. I’ve been through it. I don’t survive guys like you." Your voice cracked, and damn it, you hated how vulnerable you sounded, but it was too late. It was all spilling out now, all the fear you’d kept bottled up.
Rafe’s jaw tightened, and instead of the cocky smirk you expected, there was something different in his eyes. Anger? No, frustration maybe. But not at you.
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his cool. “You think I’m just some guy playing games, huh? That I’m gonna wake up one day and decide you’re not worth it?”
You crossed your arms, hugging yourself as if that would protect you from the way his words were hitting you too hard. “Isn’t that what happens?”
“No. Not with me.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I do know that!” His voice rose, and you flinched a little, caught off guard by the intensity.
He noticed and apologized immediately, stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours but stopping just short. "I’m here, with you. Because I want to be. Don’t you get that?"
You hated the way he was looking at you, the way his words hit with brutal honesty you weren’t used to—it made you pause. Your eyes fleeted away, focusing on the floor because looking at him was too much.
"Just let me go," you whispered, "It’ll hurt less now."
A muscle in his jaw twitched, and before you could pull back, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you in one swift move.
His hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes, and there was no escape from the intensity in them.
"No," he said, firm but quiet. "I’m not letting you go. You’re not pushing me away. I’m not leaving, no matter how hard you try to sabotage this."
Your breath hitched in your throat, and you shook your head, trying to argue, but then his lips were on yours, cutting off whatever weak protest you had left. The kiss wasn’t gentle or slow—it was harsh, like he was trying to make you understand something without words. 
 And damn it, you kissed him back. Because of course, you did.
Because despite everything you said, everything you feared, you wanted this. You wanted him. But the second you felt yourself giving in, you pushed him back, your hands pressed against his chest, trying to regain some control. 
"Stop doing that," you snapped, breathless.
"Doing what?" He sounded just as breathless, but he didn’t step away.
"Kissing me like you can fix this. Like—like I’m just gonna believe you."
He exhaled sharply, his hands gripping your waist, keeping you close. "You don’t have to believe me now, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll prove it to you, okay? Just stop trying to run every time it gets hard."
"I don’t know how to do this," you admitted quietly, your hands still resting against his chest, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.
"I’ll show you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Just stop pushing me away."
For a moment, you let yourself just be there with him, your defenses crumbling piece by piece. You didn’t know how long it would last, or if you could even survive it, but maybe… just maybe, he was worth the risk.
But still, you couldn’t help but mutter, "You’re so stupid, you know that?"
His lips twitched into a smile. “And you’re still kissing me, again, so what does that say about you?”
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the way your lips twitched with a smirk of your own.
 “Says I’m just as stupid as you,” you muttered under your breath, but the words lacked bite. Your hands stayed on his chest, fingers still gripping his polo like you were afraid to let go, like maybe if you held on tight enough, you wouldn’t fall apart, “Do you always go around kissing the saff?” You mumbled out.
Rafe’s hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you in closer. His forehead still rested against yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and steady, brushing against your skin. It was infuriating how easy it was to melt into him.
He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching with the start of a grin, “Only the ones who can’t seem to stay away from me.”
You groaned, shoving him in the chest with just enough force to make him stumble back a step. “God, you’re insufferable.”
He caught your wrists before you could pull away completely, his grip gentle, keeping you close enough that you could still feel the warmth of his skin through your clothes. “Yeah, well, you seem to like insufferable.”
“Do I though?” You quipped, trying to sound indifferent, but your heartbeat was giving you away. You could feel it hammering in your chest, “Because I feel like this whole thing is a bad idea. You know, like ‘kiss the rich guy, ruin your life’ kind of bad idea.”
Rafe’s expression softened, and the teasing glint in his eyes faded. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?” You tried to play dumb.
“Talk like this doesn’t mean something. Like I don’t mean something to you.” His voice was low, but there was a seriousness in it that made your stomach flip. “We’ve been doing this dance for a while now, and every time it starts to get real, you act like it’s just… casual.”
Your throat tightened, and you tried to pull your wrists free, but he didn’t let go, making it clear he wasn’t letting you run again.
“Maybe it is casual,” you said, even though the words tasted like a lie. “Maybe we’re just two people having a good time, and that’s it.”
He shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way that made your chest ache. “Nah. You’re not fooling me anymore. You don’t kiss someone like you kissed me just for fun.”
You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “Rafe…”
“And you don’t look at me like that when I walk in unless there’s more to it.” His voice softened as his thumb traced light circles against your skin. “So stop pretending it’s nothing.”
“I should be working.”
But Rafe wasn’t letting you off that easy. “Yeah, you probably should,” he said, but his hands didn’t move, and neither did his eyes.
“So you’re gonna let me go?”
“Why’d you kiss me that day?” he asked, "I’ve been wondering.”
You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the question. He was so close, and it was hard to think, let alone answer something that felt so…disarming like everything you’d been running from was waiting in his words.
"I don’t know," you groaned, suddenly feeling like a cornered animal. "I wasn’t thinking straight."
His fingers traced a slow line down your arm, sending shivers through you. "You sure about that?" His voice was quiet, like he already knew you were lying, knew you too well for you to hide behind that excuse. "Because it didn’t feel like just some random kiss."
You scoffed, trying to laugh it off, trying to keep your cool, but the sound came out shaky.
"It was— I don’t know, Rafe. It was just the heat of the moment, okay? The storm… everything." You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze because you knew he wasn’t buying it. "You saved me, and I guess I was—"
"Grateful?" he interrupted, his brow arching. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”
You winced. "I didn’t mean it like that."
“Yeah, well, it sure sounds like you’re trying to make it seem like it meant nothing. Like you didn’t feel anything when you kissed me.”
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to respond right away. He wasn’t wrong. That kiss had meant something—maybe more than you were ready to admit to yourself, let alone to him.
“You can’t keep acting like you don’t care, because I know you do. You wouldn’t have kissed me if you didn’t.”
The way he said it, so certain, so sure of himself—it made your heart race even faster. 
“Why do you care so much?” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Why does it matter?”
He frowned, like you had just asked the stupidest question in the world. “Because it matters to me.”
Your chest tightened at that, and you hated how much you wanted to believe him. "I don’t want to get hurt, Rafe."
"I’m not gonna hurt you." His voice was low, serious, like a promise, but you’d heard promises like that before. "I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care. I’m asking for a chance, just one chance. I’m not going anywhere.”
Your chest tightened as you stared up at him. He was serious. Like, really serious. And you were scared out of your mind because you wanted to believe him so badly. But trusting someone, letting them in? That was terrifying.
“I’m scared,” you whispered, finally admitting it out loud.
“I know,” he murmured, his forehead resting gently against yours. “But I’m scared too, okay? I want to be with you. So, please, just… give us a shot.”
You closed your eyes, breathing him in, your mind racing a hundred miles per hour.
You could still feel his lips on yours, the way he made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let your guard down for once. And the truth was, despite all the reasons you’d been telling yourself to walk away, your heart was telling you to stay.
 “Okay.”
His breath caught. “Okay?”
You opened your eyes, “Yeah, okay. I’ll give you a chance. Don’t screw it up.”
Rafe’s lips curved into that stupid, cocky grin, “I won’t. I promise.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but instead, you found yourself smiling back. 
Maybe this was crazy, maybe you were setting yourself up for heartbreak or maybe you’d really found yourself a soulmate.
744 notes · View notes
doromoni · 4 months ago
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Not Over the Papaya | OP81
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⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader
Genre : Fluff Smau
A/N : As promised ~ part 9 😌. Oh listen to the songs later okki? Oh~ and of course I dont claim the songs, they belong to their rightful owners
Face claim : Jennie Kim
Songs : i hope ur miserable until ur dead - Nessa Barrett, Poison Poison - Renee Rapp, 10 Thing I Hate About You - Leah Kate
Warnings : Cursing, Grammatical Errors.
Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
< Previous | Part 9 | Next >
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*incoming call from Y/bf
Pick up or decline
Pick up
“Hello?”
“Y/N! where tf are you??”
“I just woke up… I’m still in bed. Are you ok? why do you sound so panicked??”
“Y/N where is Oscar??”
“ I think he went to the track early for FP1. I’ll join him later… why?”
“Listen. I need to drop the call , i’m in the studio and they’re about to start filming. open your messages!!”
call ended
Notification : You received a message from Y/bf
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*Calling Osc 🧡
*Ringing
*Ringing
*Ringing
*The number you are calling cannot be reached, please try again later
*Would you like to leave a voicemail?
*Calling Osc 🧡
*Ringing
*Ringing
*Ringing
*The number you are calling cannot be reached, please try again later
*Would you like to leave a voicemail?
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*Message to Danny Ric sent successfully
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You blocked this number from your contacts, you will not be able to receive incomings calls or text from this number*
Delete this number from your contacts?
Yes
Confirm
*Calling Osc 🧡
*Ringing
*Ringing
*Ringing
*The number you are calling cannot be reached, please try again later
*Would you like to leave a voicemail?
“Hi, Osc. I know you don’t want to talk to me right now. I’m very sorry”
“I just want you to know that I will be doing something that might cause McLaren’s PR team trouble. I want you to know before hand, I don’t want you to have more doubts about me.”
“Please drive safe my luv. I love you, no matter what”
*Calling Prod. Mike
*Ringing
*Ringing
“Hi Mike. I want the discarded songs after all”
“Really?? are you sure. All three??”
“Yes, all of it”
“Ok… when should we release it?”
“Today.”
“TODAY?!”
“Yes, Mike today”
call ended
Y/N.
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liked by charles_leclerc, dannielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and others
Y/N. lies, lies, and more lies. I’m not surprised.
“Until Ur Dead” EP OUT NOW.
*comments are disabled
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Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed
Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now
670 notes · View notes
cowboybeepboop · 7 days ago
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Crave
"Y/N, is this... what you want?" 
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Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x fem! Reader 
Genre: Smut 
Word count: 4.6k
Summary: You’re close friends with the two brothers from childhood, years of a debilitating crush on Sergei finally builds into something more. 
a/n: i just saw this movie like a couple days ago and all i can think of is needy virgin Sergei 😣 i didn’t proofread what so ever and also i wrote this in barely any time but i hope you all enjoy AND PLEASE IF YOU HAVE ANY KRAVEN REQUESTS SEND THEM MY WAY IM CRAVING THIS MAN
It's been a few successful days in avoiding the two brothers, you do this every year, like clockwork. Whenever Sergei comes back home, you distract yourself and stay away the best you can. It’s not worth the heartbreak to see him leave over and over again. 
Dimitri has been calling you nightly, but each night you can hear the sounds of Sergei in the background. He plagues your thoughts, your dreams, your days. All you can think about is the warmth of his skin under your fingers and the gentleness of his touch. 
You shudder as your eyes shut, warmth pooling in your panties as your mind wanders back to him. "Dimitri.. I've gotta go," you murmur into the phone. "I'm going to get some drinks with my friend here soon." 
Dimitri replies enthusiastically, agreeing with your choice. He wishes you goodnight and hangs up the phone, leaving you with the image of Sergei's intense gaze, the feel of his muscles under your fingertips, and the lingering warmth in your stomach.
You can't shake the thoughts, the images of him constantly swirling in your head, the way his voice changes when he speaks, the touch of his hands. It haunts your dreams, and you can't help but feel an unexplainable intrigue and a growing desire for him.
You quickly get changed, ready for a night of reckless distraction, desperately seeking a way to forget about the complex hunter. You head out, the cool night air hitting your skin, the music getting louder and louder as you approach the club. 
You arrive, and the thumping music and flashing lights engulf you, offering a temporary escape from your thoughts of the man who has been plaguing your mind. Taking in the overwhelming atmosphere of the club, the loud music, the flashing lights, and the sea of bodies, all of it works together to create a sense of chaos and excitement. 
Despite the distraction, you can't shake the sensation of being watched, it lingers even as the bouncer returns your ID. Your mind drifts back to Sergei, and the memory of his intense gaze lingers in your thoughts, almost as if you sense his presence somewhere nearby.
You try to shake off the feeling getting a few shots to distract yourself and calm your wandering mind. As time passes, you've found your target: he's a decent-looking man, with a similar haircut to Sergei, a gentle demeanor, and he has a nice smile. He's good enough for what you need him for.  
The two of you exit the building, the chill midnight air freezing your skin immediately, the man you're with clutches his jacket tighter. Obviously showing a lack of interest in helping you cover your skin. 
Despite being with this man, you still can't entirely shake the feeling of being watched. It lingers, a constant reminder of the man you're trying to forget. Sergei watches from afar, his jaw clenched as he notices your shiver. You whip your head around, looking for the eyes that are following your every move. 
You can't see him, but he's still there, standing in the shadow of a dimly lit alleyway. His eyes follow your every move, observing your interactions with the man beside you. His jaw remains tight, his gaze cold and intense. 
As you whip around, you catch a glimpse of a figure in the darkness, just beyond the reach of the dim street light. It’s subtle, but the feeling of being observed lingers.
Unfortunately, this night will not be filled with any sort of satisfaction as you notice a group of men dressed in dark clothes, weapons hidden in their pockets. "Fuck." you whisper, using your arms to cover your skin the best you can.
The men approach, their intentions unclear, and the tension in the air is palpable. The cold wind bites at your skin, and you can't help but wrap your arms around yourself, your teeth chatter, and goosebumps rise on your skin, yet you can sense another gaze watching you, fixated, observing your every move.
Before you have time to react Sergei approaches from the shadows, giving the group a warning look as he steps closer to you. The men stop in their tracks, their gazes shifting to the imposing figure stepping out of the darkness. 
Their muscles tense, and they exchange hesitant glances as Sergei approaches closer, his presence radiating danger, his piercing eyes fixed on the men in front of you.
His hands are gentle on your shoulder, causing you to jump as you turn to look at him, you immediately relax when you recognize him. Finding comfort in his strong protective arms. 
His touch carries reassurance, his big, sturdy hands gently resting on your shoulder, offering a subtle sense of security. His eyes, no matter how cold they seem, convey a flicker of concern, a flicker of reassurance that speaks more than words. 
The tension lingers, but the warmth of his touch somehow seems to offer a moment of tranquility, a gentle comfort despite the surrounding danger.
Sergei removes his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders to keep you warm. "I suggest you all disperse, go your separate ways," he warns with narrowed eyes. The men listen, running in different directions, even your date scurries away. 
The men disperse hurriedly, leaving you and Sergei standing alone in the cold, the sounds of the night filling the air around you. You shiver, the cold air seeping through your clothing, but the warmth of his jacket offers some comfort, the fabric soft against your skin. The tension in the air is now replaced by a hushed stillness, save for the faint noise from the club behind you.
"You scared away my date.." you whisper, turning to face him while gripping the coat around you tightly. 
He stands there, the cold air mixing with his breath, his expression cool and composed, but there's a hint of sincerity in his gaze as he looks at you. His voice, low and measured, responds to your words.
"Your choice in company leaves much to be desired." He watches you, studying your shivering form, seeing how you clutch his jacket tightly for warmth.
"I suppose you're right," you move closer to him, craving the warmth of his skin. "But, I did have a plan for how my Friday night would go." Sergei begins to lead you in the direction of your apartment, his hands gentle on your frame.
He walks beside you, his presence towering above you, his movements deliberate and measured. He remains silent as he guides you towards your apartment. 
He glances at you from the corner of his gaze, seeing how you instinctively lean into him, seeking his heat and protection. He can't help but notice the way you grasp his coat, his gaze flickering to your hand gripping the fabric.
Once you reach the building you face him once again, the alcohol mixing with your unwavering horniness as you study his features. "Sergei.." you whisper his name, stomach twisting with desire. 
His eyes meet yours, his icy gaze studying your face as you say his name. His eyes flick between yours, the sound of his name causing a subtle reaction in his expression, a flicker of some unknown emotion.
"Yes, Y/N?" His voice is composed but holds a hint of something unfamiliar, something subtle and hard to discern, perhaps an echo of a memory or a flicker of feelings he thought were long-forgotten.
"Don't say my name like that," you whine, your eyebrows furrowing with frustration. 
His eyebrows raise slightly with curiosity upon hearing your words, a flicker of confusion crossing his eyes. He studies the frustration in your expression, his gaze softening ever so slightly.
"How else should I say it?" He asks, his voice quiet but measured, a hint of genuine curiosity in his words. Despite his icy demeanor, there's a hint of gentle protectiveness as he looks at you, trying to figure out why the way he said your name made you react with frustration.
You groan, turning away from him, your body aching for his touch. "Forget it, I should get inside. It's cold." 
He follows you into the building, the door closing behind you both. The sound of the city seems to fade away, replaced by the stillness of the hallway. 
He studies you, noticing your frustrated groan and the way you turn away from him. As you stand there, he can sense your frustration, the unspoken desires still hanging between you two. 
"Is there anything I can do to help?"  He asks, his voice quiet and measured. He watches you, feeling a pang of curiosity as to why you seemed to grow frustrated at the mere sound of his voice.
You unlock the door to your apartment, the neediness in his tone making your panties soaked. "Sergei..." you practically whine his name, frustrated with the lack of awareness he has of how much he's affecting you.
As you unlock the door, his eyes flick to yours, the slight desperation evident in your voice causing his gaze to soften even further, his eyes fixated on you. He follows you inside the door, his eyes trained on your face. 
There's a noticeable pause, a slight shift in the air. He can sense the tension and the subtle emotions hidden beneath your frustration, but he seems unaware of the impact he's having on you.
"Y/N..." He responds gently, his voice carrying a hint of a question, a tinge of hesitance as if he senses something but can't quite tell what.
You squeeze your thighs tightly together, "Don't say it like that.." you gasp, he finally catches on to your behavior. The scent of your arousal fills his nostrils. 
He's still for a moment, the realization seems to dawn on him, a subtle shift in his expression, and his eyes widen a bit as he stands there silently. The air feels heavy with your arousal, the scent filling his senses, the realization hitting him like a sudden wave. 
He stares at you, his eyes tracing the way you squeeze your thighs together, trying to hide the visible effect he's having on you.
"Like what?" He asks quietly, his voice low, as if he knows the answer, but needs your confirmation. His eyes remain fixated on you, taking in every tiny movement, every little sign of your arousal. 
There's a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of a realization that he may be the cause of your frustration.
"I can't.." you sigh, reaching out to touch his firm abs, "The way you're saying my name.. it turns me on." you press your face into his chest, craving his touch. 
A shiver runs through his body at your words, the touch of your hand against his abs, and the way you press your face to his chest. He seems to tense up for a moment, caught off guard by your words and the way you press against him.
He stands there, still trying to process your admission, his expression unreadable, his eyes fixed on you as you nuzzle against him, the tension between you almost palpable.
"Sergei.. Say something, anything.." you murmur, pulling away from him reluctantly. 
His breath catches in his throat, and his chest heaves as he stares down at you, the scent of your arousal flooding his senses. He's silent for a moment, still trying to comprehend the effect he has on you, his heart beats a bit faster, and his words seem to get stuck in his throat.
"Y/N..." He murmurs softly, almost hesitantly, his voice carrying a slight tremble as he tries to choose the right words amidst his unexpected arousal.
You take his hand in yours, leading it towards your aching cunt. "Sergei.. please.." 
His eyes widen slightly at the gentle touch of your hand, his breath is sharp as he feels the soft heat of your body. His fingers tense as you lead his hand, a mix of bewilderment and arousal coursing through him. He follows your lead, his touch gentle as he moves as you guide him. 
"Y/N.." He exhales, his voice low and gravelly, his eyes holding a hint of uncertainty as he looks at you, his gaze flickering between your face and his hand as you guide it to where you need it most.
You moan as his fingers brush over the growing wet spot, your body shaking with anticipation. 
He can feel the heat of your arousal through your clothes, a shiver runs through his body, goosebumps rise on his skin, and his eyes hold a mix of surprise and a subtle hunger. His touch lingers for a moment, his fingers just tracing the growing wetness, his voice wavering as he speaks.
He swallows hard, his words still hesitant, a breathless tone to his voice. "I don't know what... I'm doing..."
You guide his hand under the fabric of your panties, silently begging him to please you, to take control. You're too far gone to process the words he murmured, lust clouding your mind. 
He takes a deep breath as his fingers move under the fabric of your panties, the touch sending a bolt of electricity through him, his whole body seems to shudder at the sensation. His eyes hold a mix of uncertainty and a sudden surge of arousal as he tries to understand what he's feeling.
"Y/N, is this... what you want?" He asks, his voice hoarse as he speaks, his other hand gripping your waist, his fingers holding onto you needily despite his uncertainty.
"Yes… Yes please," you whine, fingers pressing into his as you guide his movements against your clit.
His breath catches as you guide his fingers, a low, almost guttural groan escaping him, his fingers press into you, trying to find the right rhythm. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his body pressed closer to you. 
"Like this?" He asks almost hesitantly, his words coming out in a rush, the tension between you both rising by the second.
You moan desperately, body shuddering as his rough fingers tease your swollen pearl. "Exactly like this.." your breathing becomes uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly. 
He can feel the effect his touch has on you, the sounds that escape you pushing him forward, the feeling of you responding to his touch. His breathing grows heavier, and his hand moves between your thighs, fingers pressing and teasing exactly as you guide him, a surge of arousal coursing through him at your sounds. 
"I want to make you feel good, Y/N," he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a growing hunger, but still a hint of uncertainty, as if he's not entirely sure of what to do.
Your moans become more needy, using your free hand you pull his face to yours desperately kissing him. Your legs tremble as you cum, your nails digging into his back as your thighs clench around his arm.
The suddenness of your kiss catches him off guard, his lips respond to yours urgently, a mixture of hunger and a subtle hesitancy in his movements. As you moan and tremble, he can feel it in every inch of his body, his own arousal growing at the sound of your pleasure. 
He kisses you back with a mix of need and an undeniable arousal, his strong arm holding you tightly against him. He can sense the tension breaking, your nails gripping tightly to him, your body pressing desperately into his touch, the heat and the taste of your lips driving him wild.
You shudder, leaning forward and pressing a few soft kisses into his neck as all the tension leaves you. "Fuck, Sergei.. so good.." you murmur, eyes fluttering shut as you slide your fingers over the marks you left on his back, gently soothing the reddened scratches.
He moans softly as you press kisses against his neck, a low, pleased rumble escaping his chest. He pulls you closer against him, his body pressed flush with yours as he wraps his arms around you. A mix of feelings swirling within him, uncertainty and hunger, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. 
His grip on you tightens slightly, holding you in place as you soothe the scratches you left behind, a subtle shiver running down his spine as your fingers graze over the marks. His heart pounds furiously in his chest, his body responding to every touch and every sound you make.
You slip out of his grasp, leading him to your bedroom as you slide out of your dress, standing in front of him in just your panties and bra. "I need you.." you whisper, eyes full of desire.
He follows you to the bedroom, his eyes scanning your body as you slip out of your dress, his gaze dark and intense as he takes in your form. His heart beats furiously in his chest, the hunger growing inside him, a mix of desire and uncertainty as his eyes roam over you. 
A low, quiet moan escapes him, his voice hoarse and filled with longing as he responds to your words. "I need you too, Y/N, I'm just unsure.. I've never..." He hesitates, his eyes filled with a combination of uncertainty and a growing hunger that he can no longer deny.
"It's all instincts," you murmur, bringing his hands to your breasts. "I can teach you... but just do what feels right." you brush your thumb over his cheekbone.
He swallows hard at your words, his eyes fixed on your form as his hands move to your breasts, a mix of uncertainty and a growing hunger filling him. As his palms cup your chest, he exhales deeply, his breath catching in his throat. He nods in response to your words, his eyes searching for guidance as he looks into yours. 
You reach back and unclasp your bra, freeing your chest to his hungry gaze, sliding out of your underwear and moving to undress him. 
A low growl escapes his throat, his eyes fixed on your chest, his gaze filled with hunger and a growing need. He can feel the anticipation coursing through him, his breath catching as you undress him, his heart beating thunderously in his chest. 
He can't help but respond to your touch, his body is eager for your guidance. As you move to undress him, his eyes linger on you, taking in every little detail as his mind seems to be clouded by arousal, a mix of lust and an unfamiliar sensation he can't quite name.
He slowly lowers himself onto his knees, his gaze dark and lustful as he stares up at you. Sergei presses wet kisses onto your thighs, the scent of your cunt making his eyes roll back as he spreads your legs. 
There's a mix of hunger and anticipation in his eyes as he drops to his knees before you, his gaze intense and dark with a growing desire, his hands caressing your thighs. As his kisses travel along your thighs, his breathing grows heavier, his eyes rolling back as he takes in the scent of your desires. 
He looks up at you, a mix of hunger and a subtle uncertainty in his gaze as he runs his tongue along your inner thigh, his movements gentle as if he's trying to gauge your reaction, to figure out what to do.
Your legs spread wider, giving him room to bury his face into your soaking pussy. He sticks his tongue out, slowly licking up your wetness, and his hands grasp onto your hipbones pulling you closer. 
He can feel the warmth and wetness against his lips, and his tongue flickers over your sensitive flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His grip on your hipbones tightens, pulling you closer to him, his fingers pressing into your smooth flesh. 
“Fuck..” you moan eyes fluttering shut as you lurch forward, his tongue slips into your pulsing hole, lapping up every liquid. Your hips instinctively begin to move against his mouth, grinding against his stubble. 
His eyes are trained on your face, watching every bit of pleasure wash over you. His mouth moves to your clit, his tongue gently brushing over the sensitive bud causing you to jolt and let out a needy moan. 
“Right there, jus’ like that..” you whine, fingers twisting in his hair as moans fall from your open mouth. He does as you instruct, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue teasing it roughly as his hunger grows. 
You let out a gasp, eyes rolling back in your head as you tremble, legs growing weak. Sergei holds your body up his mouth working against you as he chases your orgasm. 
Tears brim your eyes as the pleasure overwhelms you, with a loud moan you finally let go, cum spilling from you as you press onto his face trying to pull him away from your overly sensitive clit. 
He keeps lapping up at the liquids, hungry for more. “Sergei.. no more..” you whine, shaking above him. 
His face is glazed as he stands up, he can taste you on his lips, the hunger in his eyes still evident. He stands before you, his eyes filled with lust and a mix of newfound confidence. He looks you up and down, his eyes lingering on your trembling form as he holds onto you, trying to steady you.
You pull him into another hungry kiss, feeling his hands explore your body as he palms your breasts. His fingers tweaking your nipples as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap. 
He responds to your kiss with urgency and need, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every curve and contour, tracing over your skin with a kind of hunger and reverence. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap, his grip firmer now, his own need and hunger growing more intense. 
He breaks the kiss, his breath heavy as he looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and a hint of something more, a feeling that he can't quite comprehend.
“You’re so hard..” you murmur, feeling his clothed length pressing into your wet cunt. 
He moans softly at the feeling, his breath catches as you speak, and a low growl escapes him as he responds. "You... do this to me." His voice is low, his hands gripping your hips firmly, guiding you closer to him. "I can't control this... this feeling. I need you..." He admits, the sensations coursing through him overwhelming, his body responding to your proximity to him.
You begin to slowly move your hips against his, shaking as the roughness of the fabric brushes over your overstimulated clit. "Then take me.." you whisper into his ear, kissing and nipping at his neck.
He growls softly, his breath catches in his throat as you move against him, his senses flooding with sensations, his breathing is shallow, and his hands tighten on your hips. His eyes burn with hunger, his body moving in unison with yours. "I don't know if I can be gentle, Y/N," he whispers, his voice hoarse and desperate, "I need you. Now."
With trembling hands, Sergei guides you back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He can't ignore the need pounding through him, but he's cautious, knowing this is new to him. He carefully positions himself over you, his large hands supporting his weight as he aligns his cock with your entrance. 
His eyes flicker with uncertainty, but the heat in them is unmistakable. "Y/N, are you sure?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. You nod eagerly, your body arching up to meet his. He takes a deep breath, and with one swift, gentle thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. 
His eyes squeeze shut tightly as he feels you stretch around him, his whole body shaking with the effort to hold back his desire. He's so thick, so warm, and the sensation sends a new wave of pleasure through your core. 
"So good," he murmurs against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he starts to move, his hips tentatively pushing in and out. His inexperience is evident in his careful movements, but the need in his touch, the way his body responds to yours, is undeniably erotic. 
You wrap your legs around him, urging him to go deeper, and he responds, his strokes becoming more confident as he finds a rhythm that has you both panting and moaning in sync. Despite his lack of experience, his instincts guide him, and every touch, every stroke feels like it was designed to make you lose control. 
His gentle, yet firm grip on your hips, the way he kisses and nips at your neck, it's all too much, and you can feel another orgasm building, threatening to shatter you apart. "Y/N... I'm... I'm going to... " he stammers, his body tensing as he nears his release. 
With a final, deep thrust, he fills you with his stringy thick cum, his body collapsing on top of yours, his breath hot against your neck. He reaches down to your clit, brushing his forefinger over it desperate to make you cum again. 
A few more strokes cause you to shudder and tremble around his, your pussy clenching around his cock as you cum. “Holy shit.. you’re so good,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his hungrily.
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starkeynation · 10 days ago
Text
I love you, I’m sorry
A letter from reader to Rafe
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Content: Angst, like PURE sad, the lamp looks weird, based on the song I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams (may or may not be accurate)
A/N: about that cliffhanger and happy ending, I changed my mind… also ignore any writing mistakes if there’s any and this was kinda rushed so I hope it still turns out good
Masterlist
dividers from @anitalenia
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Rafe,
It is Saturday night. I should be out doing something, partying or whatever to enjoy myself, yet here i am, pen in hand, finding myself writing to you again. I know this letter will never reach you- it’ll end up crumpled at the bottom of my drawer or burned to ashes. Still, I can’t seem to stop myself.
It has been exactly two august ago since everything fell apart. I remember the way I laid it all out, raw, I wanted to be real, hoping that honesty would mend us. We weren’t perfect. Hell, we were far from it. We fought like fire and gasoline, burning everything we touched. Jealousy leads us to mistrust each other but even then, I didn’t think it would end the way it did. I never thought that fight would be the last..the final, devastating blow before you ghosted me and blocked me everywhere.
I swear it wasn’t my intention to break up with you, I thought by exposing the cracks, we could patch them together. Instead, the truth just ended up pushing you away. When you drove off in your Benz and left me standing at my gate, it felt like everything had stopped. The time, the world, my heart…everything froze. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop you, beg you to stay, to tell you that we could still save us but you didn’t look back, and i was too late.
Now, i watch you from a distance as you become successful, helping your dad doing business, running Cameron’s development like you were born to do it. I heard your name whispered in admiration at the club where I work, how you charm people the way you trained for. And you know what? I’m so so proud of you Rafe. I always knew you had it in you. I’ll be rooting for you always, even from the shadows.
Maybe two summers from now we’ll be talking again at some point, exchange smiles, our lives untangled and we’re cool again. I can picture you’ll be in your family’s jet, travelling, and me, on my boat moving on with our own lives. By then, i hope..im actually ready to move on. I know you’ve already moved on- I mean, why wouldn’t you? Still, there’s part of me wish that you wouldn’t yet, and maybe, just maybe, you would take me back.
But that’s just selfish isn’t it? I was selfish when we were together too. I made everything about me, i was inconsiderate, I turn something small into raging battles. I didn’t listen, didn’t see you for who you were. I’m ashamed of the person I was, of the mistakes I made. After everything i did, I’m surprised you haven’t send someone to kill me yet.
Lately I find myself sitting on the porch, watching sunsets like we used to, with a glass of something strong in my hand. I laugh at myself, at the crash I made, because what else can I do? It’s a twisted kind of coping—laughing at my own heartbreak. It doesn’t feel real and it’s really hard to let go but i guess that’s just the way life goes.
I know i was a dick, Rafe. I had too many flaws to count but as sick as it sounds, I loved you first. You’ll always be my first love. You were the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me, a storm that left me shattered but alive. Your love had impact me deeply, it is carved in my soul. No matter where we are, i want you to know that I’ll carry the past and the weight of my mistakes with me. Trust me, it will always, haunt me.
I regret every second for not treating you well, for not being the person you needed. Lastly, i want you to know that I still, truly, deeply, love you, I’m sorry.
*Ding* you heard the bell rings. You rush downstairs to answer the door.
“Pizza delivery”, says the delivery boy standing in front of you. You almost forgot you ordered one, an hour ago. You take your prepaid alfredo chicken pizza and thank him. It was Rafe’s favourite pizza, you’re not sure if it’s still his favourite though. After shutting the door, you walk to your kitchen.
Just two seconds later, *ding* the bell rings again. Did the delivery boy forget anything? You thought.
You open the door, “yes-“ you pause. You couldn’t believe it, standing right in front of you,
“Topper?”
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“Topper what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice laced with confusion.
He then steps aside and reveals a man behind him, lying on the steps of your porch- a man whose silhouette you’d recognize anywhere. “Rafe,” you whisper.
“Shit I’m sorry to bother you but this dumbass got into an accident for driving while he’s high,” Topper blurts out, panickly.
Your brow furrowing and your confusion deepens. You walk closer to Rafe and spot the blood dripping from his head, “Accident? What? Then why do you bring him here instead of the hospital?” You ask, your voice sharp, slicing through the chaos of the moment.
“He won’t let me. He insisted I bring him here to see you,” Topper explains.
“Y/n,” Rafe speaks up, his voice low and strained.
Your heart skips a beat. It’s like the universe has stopped spinning again. This is the first time you hear him calling your name after two whole years.
“Hey Rafe, you’re bleeding,” you say, your voice mix with feelings.
“I’m fine,” he says, giving a soft, disarming smile while trying to sit up.
You instruct Topper to go find some cloth to stop the bleeding. As he dissapears, you sit on your knees facing to Rafe, “Rafe, what happened? Why are you here?” you ask, still have no clue of what’s going on here.
“I wanted to see you,” he replies, putting on that damn smile again, the one that’s always managed to unravel you. “I miss you, y/n.”
Your face goes pale, your eyes widens, the words hang in the hair, heavy and unexpected. “Rafe, you’re drunk,” you accuse, trying to make sense of what’s happening right now.
“No, I’m not, i swear I’m very conscious right now,” he insists, his voice firm. You’re still not sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “I really miss you, y/n,” he continues, his voice low but still clear for you to hear it.
Your heart aches, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull of his words. “How hard did you hit your head? God, you’re still bleeding. We need to see a doctor,” you say, trying to stand up, but he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.
“Stop it, I’m fine i swear…this is nothing,” he says waving off the concern. Just then, Topper returns with a towel in his hand. He hands the towel to you and says, “dude, are you sure you’re okay? When i saw your car there were smokes everywhere. Looks like you hit that tree pretty hard,” his voice fill with concern.
“I’m fine Top, just go. I need to talk to y/n,” Rafe says with a dismissive wave. Topper hesitates, he looks at you for confirmation as if you’re the one in charge here. You nod at him, signalling an approval, “s’okay Top i can handle this.”
“Okay, just call me if anything happens,” he says. “Thank you,” you mutter softly to Topper as he’s leaving towards his car.
With Topper gone, you shift your focus back to Rafe. You take the towel and start dabbing on the blood on his forehead, “we still need to get this stitched up,” you say. Rafe then grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful, “look at me,” he demands.
You look at him straight in the eyes, drowning in his blue eyes. It’s overwhelming- staring at the man that you love but no longer yours.
“I do mean what i said, i miss you y/n and i wanted to see you,” he says, his tone steady and sure.
“But why now?” You ask, your voice breaking under the weight of the question.
“Sar..Sarah told me tonight that you’ve been writing letters about me. She found them stashed under your bed,” he says, hesitantly.
Your stomach drops and you shake your head in disbelief, “God…i knew it there was something wrong. She was acting so weird when she left this morning,” you mutter.
“So it’s true? You’ve been writing about me?”
Your face is turning red, you’re struggling to find the words. “I- yes…I’ve been writing letters. Pretending like I’m gonna send it to you but i never do,” you stutter.
“Why didn’t you just send them?” He presses, his voice low, almost pleading.
“You know why Rafe…you’ve moved on. You blocked me few months after we broke up. You’re thriving now with your job, you got your whole life together, and I- I was the reason why we broke up. I can’t just crawl my way back into your life like nothing happened,” you shatter, your voice breaking as you’re struggling to control your tears.
Rafe shakes his head. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles and kisses it. “You’re wrong y/n, you’re absolutely wrong. I’ve been doing nothing over the past two years except than trying to forget about you. That’s why I’ve been doing all these jobs, thinking it could distract me, but no,” he shakes his head again. “Nothing could make me stop thinking about you.”
His confession leaves you breathless, your tears streaming down your face as he continues. “About the blocking and disappearing, I’m really sorry, I was a coward. The truth is, that day i came to your house to apologize. Then, as I stood outside, i saw you were laughing with jj through your window. I knew you guys were not together cause after jj left, I may or may not have confronted him…” he then mouthed sorry. “But then, I remember the way you looked so happy when you’re with him. At that time, I knew I had to let you go cause you deserve someone better and you deserve to be happy so that’s why I blocked you..as if that makes any difference.”
You idiot,” you scoff. “I never wanted anyone else, only you Rafe, only you. You’re the only one who could truly make me happy.”
His eyes glisten, his smile soft and hesitant. “Please forgive me y/n, I swear I’m a better person now and I love- I love you, so much. I still do.”
You reach up, caress his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too Rafe,” you whisper. He cups your face and returns the kiss. The kiss is passionate, slow and tender. His lip is so soft and only god knows how much you miss this. The world fades around you, leaving only the two of you, two broken pieces finding their way back to each other.
You pull away from his face and let out a giggle. “Why are you laughing?” He asks, can’t help but let out a soft giggle too.
“Before you came I was actually writing another letter for you,” you admit, a shy smile appears on your face.
“Oh really? Tell me about it baby,” he smirks. Your smile widens at the sound of the nickname that rolls out from his mouth. “Mm I miss that. You, calling me baby. Anyways, it’s in my room, wanna come in?” You ask.
He shakes his head, pulling you closer as he leans back against the stairs railing. “Hmm in a bit sweetheart, you can tell me here while we stargaze. I missed your porch- and mostly you, of course,” he replies with a faint smile.
So you do. You talk to him about the letter while your head rest on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined. “Lastly I wrote, I love you, I’m sorry,” you say, explaining the last content of the letter. But then, you realise he has gone quiet. His stillness unsettling. You glance up to him, “Rafe?” He’s not responding. You check his pulse but there is none. Panic sets in as you shake him, calling his name.
“Rafe”
“Rafe, wake up”
“Wake up!”
“Wake up!”
“Y/n”
“Y/n”
“Y/n, wake up”
You gasp, your heart is pounding like a drum. You’re sweating all over your body as reality crashes down. It was a nightmare.
“Hey..baby you okay?” You turn your head to your right and realise it’s Rafe. He’s okay, he’s alive and he’s sitting on the bed next to you. Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.
“Is it the nightmare again?” He asks. You nod, signalling him that he’s right.
“It’s okay baby I got you. Here, come back to sleep,” he says, gently pulling you into his arms. You smile and cuddle him, clinging to the illusion of safety his embrace provides. You close your eyes again trying to fall back to sleep till your alarm suddenly rings.
You wake up with a tear running down your cheek. You hit the snooze button and realise that was a dream and this time, it’s the true reality. You look to the other side of your bed, it’s empty. It always has been for quite a while now. The truth is, that night after Rafe collapsed, you called for an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, they try everything to make his heart beat again, but nothing works. It was too late. He had lost too many blood before that you weren’t aware of and that same night, Rafe had died in your arms.
It’s been 3 years since the tragic. You keep having the same dream almost every night. Part of you is grateful that you and Rafe had ended in good terms but another part of you knows that the truth is you’ll never get the chance to redeem yourself and be a better partner. There’s nothing remaining other than the memories that will haunt you forever.
Rafe, if you’re hearing this, I love you, I’m sorry.
Like and reblog if you want to kys after reading this😇☺️
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fragilefable · 1 year ago
Text
nobody's son, nobody's daughter.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.
Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪
A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!
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Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller. 
Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman. 
And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking. 
You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins. 
The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl." 
You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.
Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird." 
Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?" 
The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair. 
"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you. 
Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck. 
Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first. 
Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay." 
Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately. 
Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel." 
"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army." 
Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway. 
The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck. 
A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!" 
As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise." 
The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."  
You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance. 
Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone." 
Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-" 
A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.
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16 Years Later
The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within. 
You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front. 
You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive. 
You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!" 
The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets. 
A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?" 
You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?" 
You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?" 
You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home." 
Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young. 
Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice. 
You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still... 
You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.  
Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know." 
You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house. 
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3 Years Later
Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through. 
In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand." 
Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse. 
Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.
· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·
The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."  
You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know. 
As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"
She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you? 
Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"
He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."
Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?" 
Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault. 
Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."
Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.
· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·
Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.
Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.
You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.
If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.
A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.
Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.
Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."
Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."
You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."
Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."
· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·
The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him. 
As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail. 
You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart. 
The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams. 
When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her. 
You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think." 
You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy. 
Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen. 
Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere. 
He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street. 
Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer. 
He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades. 
You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me." 
Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'." 
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© 2023 fragilefable do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.
divider by @saradika
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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months ago
Text
bad idea right
for @steddiesongfics July prompt using song lyrics from ‘bad idea right’ by olivia rodrigo
rated e | 1569 words | cw: alcohol, super mildly dubious consent because of the alcohol | tags: angst with a happy ending, post break up, exes to lovers, getting back together, sex
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Eddie isn’t afraid to admit that he makes mistakes. Sometimes, he makes big ones.
Answering the call from Steve is the first big one.
“Steve?” It’s been almost a year since he’s heard from him, their breakup being the finite end to any and all communication. “You okay?”
“Eddie! Oh my god. So I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up, and I was thinkin’ ‘bout that time I got so drunk you had to carry me to my bed.” Eddie’s listening to Steve, but he feels like his soul is leaving his body. “You remember how gentle you were? You were so worried about tripping up the stairs and you kept cussing when you lost your grip. You kissed my head when you thought I was asleep.”
Steve’s words are slurred, but Eddie can make them out fine. He was good at understanding Steve all the time, even inebriated.
“I knew you were awake,” he gulps. Robin’s gonna kill him for even entertaining Steve like this. Actually, speaking of her- “Is Robbie with you?”
“No.” Eddie can hear the pout on his lips. “She’s on a date with her girlfriend.”
Right. She’d mentioned that to Eddie yesterday when they were texting about plans for next weekend.
Robin had refused to be split between her two best friends when they broke up, and rightfully so. She may have been Steve’s platonic soulmate, but she knew that what happened between them wasn’t Eddie’s fault. She made sure to spend time with Eddie when Steve was otherwise busy.
“Are you good to get home? I can send an Uber for you.” Eddie offers even though he’s sure Steve thought of that already. Even drunk, he would know how to get home.
“I can get my own Uber.”
“I know.”
“I missed your voice.”
Eddie is doing his fuckin’ best not to make his second big mistake tonight, but it’s not going well. He knows what’s gonna happen. He knows because he’s weak and loves Steve more than anything even after having his heart torn to pieces by him. Even knowing it’ll only lead to more heartbreak.
“You should get home, Stevie.”
“Missed that, too.”
It’s quieter on Steve’s end now, like he’s stepped away from whatever club or bar he’s holed up in, maybe outside to get some much needed fresh air. Eddie hopes it sobers him enough to realize what he’s done so he hangs up.
“Steve…”
“Can I come over?”
Eddie makes the second big mistake of the night and says yes.
-
When Steve arrives, he’s a beautiful mess.
He’s drunk, but the ride must’ve helped a little. His eyes are clear, his cheeks not as flush as they probably were before.
Eddie’s waiting at the door when he gets there, standing with a smile that doesn’t belong. He’s trying to be welcoming to a man who did everything to make sure he felt like he didn’t belong.
Steve is in his arms as soon as he makes it to the front door. Eddie’s third big mistake of the night is wrapping his arms around him as if he’d never stopped, as if this last year wasn’t the worst of his life and he’s barely made it through.
“Sorry I called. I didn’t know where to go.”
And now Eddie’s confused. He’s confused because Steve has an apartment of his own, one that he definitely knew how to get to even when drunk. Even if he didn’t, he would’ve been able to call Robin to help. Or Max. Or Lucas.
And he’s sure that Steve’s been drunk in the last year and not called him.
“Why couldn’t you go home?”
“Too quiet.”
11 months ago, almost to the day, Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson that he was too loud, too hyper, too messy.
11 months ago, Eddie Munson gathered whatever he could find in four minutes and left Steve’s apartment for the last time.
11 months ago, Steve ruined a three year relationship because he’d been feeling overwhelmed and didn’t tell Eddie until it was too late.
Now, Eddie Munson is sure that Steve Harrington is about to be his fourth big mistake tonight.
“You wanna come in?” He asks, already knowing Steve’s answer.
“Please.”
-
Steve is tucked into Eddie’s bed, curled around a pillow, mouth open as he snores quietly. Eddie watches him for a moment before tip-toeing from the room.
Robin’s livid when she answers her phone.
“This better be good. I was two fingers-“
“Steve’s here.” Eddie interrupts what was sure to be too much information about what Robin was getting up to on her date. “Drunk.”
“He just showed up at your house?” Robin sounds less mad now, more concerned, though he’s not sure who she’s more concerned about.
“He called first.”
“And you answered.”
“Yeah. Well.” Eddie sighs. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but just wanted you to know he’s safe and I’ll make sure he gets home tomorrow.”
“Eddie, I’m so sorry. He said he was just gonna watch a movie tonight or else I would’ve suggested he go hang with Dustin or something.”
“It’s not your job to babysit him.” Eddie doesn’t like the way she said that, but he’s probably reading too much into it. “He’s an adult.”
“Yeah, no. He’s. I mean, he’s fine. It’s just that we all try to keep his mind busy since…ya know.” Robin explains, though Eddie feels even more confused.
“Since he specifically told me I was too much for him?”
Robin’s silence speaks volumes.
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is behind him and he’s quick to turn and make sure he’s okay. “Sleep?”
“I’ll text you,” he whispers to Robin before hanging up and turning to Steve. “You should go lay down. I’ll bring you some water.”
“You too?” Steve was blinking slowly, barely awake as he stood in Eddie’s living room.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stevie.”
“Is it because of what I said?”
It’s not the time for them to have this conversation, and it’s not the time for Eddie to wish he could forget it ever happened so he can hop into bed with Steve. But he thinks Steve is probably sobering up little by little, and if he expects Steve to sleep, he may have to do this.
“You made it very clear how you felt. I’m just trying to respect your space until I can get you home tomorrow.” Robin would be proud of how he’s handling this, he thinks. He’s at least keeping things civil even though his head is screaming at him.
“I didn’t mean what I said.”
Eddie stares at him, tries to find the telltale signs of Steve lying. He doesn’t see any.
Steve’s too tired and too buzzed to hide it.
“Then why did you say any of it?” Eddie feels his chest constricting, his heartbeat racing the longer he looks at him. “Why did you make me think I was too much?”
“My dad came by that day,” Steve’s head falls, his hands wringing in front of him. “My dad had spent two hours telling me I wasn’t enough and that I’d done nothing but disappoint him and I’d never be what he wanted. And it wasn’t the first time, but it was after my boss gave a promotion to someone else even though I was more qualified and my head was killing me and Robin and I had gotten into a stupid argument that morning and it was a bad day.”
Eddie’s staring at him, mouth wide open, watching as the man he loves falls apart.
“It’s no excuse. I shouldn’t’ve said any of it no matter what. Not when it’s not even true. I’ve never felt like you’re too much or too loud.” Steve’s stepping closer now. “I’ve always just wanted to soak up whatever energy you have. And I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re more than I deserve without saying you’re too much for what I can offer.”
Damn Steve Harrington and his charm, even when buzzed, even when exhaustion is causing him to curl into himself.
Damn Eddie’s inability to avoid his fifth mistake of the night.
He doesn’t know if he is the catalyst or if they both are, but suddenly his mouth is on Steve’s and teeth knock together, and there’s a slight taste of blood on Eddie’s tongue.
There’s moans and hands against skin and in hair and hard cocks rubbing against thighs and bruises on hips.
There’s Steve’s head hitting the pillow and Eddie’s mouth sucking marks into his stomach and inner thigh and the blanket falling off the bed as they try to strip out of their clothes too fast.
There’s laughter and soft touches and nails biting into skin and check-ins.
There’s love when Eddie holds his face in his hands as he slides into Steve for the first time in too long, and there’s hope when Steve cries out for more, and there’s passion that Eddie knows he’d never find with anyone else.
After, when there’s sweat and tears and cum and an unfortunate wet spot in the middle of the bed, there’s whispers of tomorrow and the next day and apologies and promises.
It may have been a bad idea answering Steve’s call, but Eddie’s happy to make more mistakes if it means keeping Steve in his arms and being enough for each other.
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