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of-cauldrons-and-inkpens · 1 year ago

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You Missed My Heart: PART 1

PART 1 LINK | PART 2 LINK | PART 3 LINK

Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different.

Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not.

Word Count: 11,107 Author’s Note: I wrote this instead of doing my college work, but I also didn’t proofread. Hopefully there aren’t too many typos! I’ll probably add more chapters in the following days/weeks Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)

Minors DNI! Story is below the cut

The dream was hazy. Miguel sighed as he began to inch toward the edge of the mattress, drifting out of the shared embrace that we had slept in. Arms and legs untangled from one another as he drifted away from me.

I reached my hand outward, catching onto his hand before he could slip away for good. “I need to go to work.” He whispered, his voice husky and warm from sleep. But, despite his protest, he lay back down beside me. “Don’t go.” I said. My hands worked their way through the darkness, moving to curl around his broad shoulders. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to feel his strong heartbeat against my chest and listen to him breathe one more time. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t real. I didn’t care that this was now a soft and distorted memory; this was all I had left of him. I had convinced myself weeks ago that if I dreamed of him enough, it would almost be like he wasn’t gone. “I have to. Alchemax is unveiling a new project today and I have to be there.” He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. His breath was warm, working as a perfect antagonist for the frigid air of our bedroom. “Please Miguel.” I begged. He cut me off by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss was languid and wet. Our bodies were still naked from the previous night’s activities as he rolled on top of me. “Miguel…” I whispered. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m not going anywhere.” He said. His lips slipped off of mine as he lowered his face, moving so that his mouth could graze the shell of my ear. There, he whispered the one thing I thought I would never hear again. “I love you…”

Something brushed the side of my face, pulling me from my dream. I jerked upward, searching for what had caused it. But I couldn’t see through the pitch black of the bedroom. In the darkness, I was so sure that I could smell him. He had been dead for months, but his scent still lingered in the walls and all of the soft places in the house. It was to the point that I was terrified of moving or washing anything; if I did, that last piece of him would vanish forever.

Hot tears slid down my face.

I had been crying again. But that had become such a common occurrence that I couldn’t even be surprised. Tears slid down my neck, soaking into the collar of Miguel’s Alchemax t-shirt that had been worn thin. Crying had become an every night thing since the funeral. Maybe if I could understand what the hell even happened to him, then I could be okay. But there had been no information about any of it. I had been told there was an accident at work and that there was nothing that could have been done to save him. But the term accident meant so many different things.

I lifted my hand to my cheek to wipe away the next batch of tears. But, as my fingers brushed my skin, I couldn’t help but notice the distinct warmth on that side of my face.

Had someone been here?

Had the gentle brush been entirely in my head?

I swallowed hard as my eyes searched the darkness. “Miguel?” I asked. But there was no answer. The delusional part of me wanted to hear him stir inside of the bathroom that attached to the bedroom. I slid my hand outward, searching through the sheets that would always remain cold.

The black out curtains that covered my window blocked out any light from the city. The only light in the room was from the small machine that Miguel had set up in the corner. I was never sure what exactly it did, but it always gave off a pale blue glow.

I glanced around the room, seeing that the pictures were all still lying face down on the dresser and bookshelves.

Nothing was different. He was still dead, and I was still alone.

I swallowed hard as I reached for the bottle of sleeping pills that sat on the bedside table. I had gotten them after stepping off one of the curbs in Nueva York without looking. But, before anything could happen, a man had grabbed me, jerking me out of the way seconds before my body had the chance to collide with the car that was racing down the street. Maybe if I hadn’t been so exhausted, then I would have thought before I walked.

The pills were my only chance at getting any rest these days. I unscrewed the top of the bottle, dropped one of the white pills into my hand, and then replaced the white plastic lid. I discarded the bottle onto the nightstand and then popped the pill in my mouth.

I just needed to go to sleep. If I could sleep, then I could see him again.

I leaned back against the sheets, watching the walls of the hallway through the open door of our bedroom. If I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn to God that I saw a faint orange and pink glow dance against the walls before being consumed by darkness.

No dreams came. My vision was dark, trapping me in a dreamless darkness. The pills always made my body heavy with sleep; it was almost impossible to open my eyes when I was like this. I didn’t see him in my dreams, but I could hear him. His voice was faint, speaking in delicate murmurs.

Fingers brushed against the skin of my face as he pushed several of my curls behind my ears. It was something he had always done, especially when I was sitting on the couch beside him. I had always wondered if he did it so that he could see my face or if it was just his way of getting my attention. But I guess that didn’t matter now.

I flinched at the reminder.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here.” Miguel whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. I felt the bed move under me, sinking on the edge as he sat down. “I’m gonna keep you safe.”

“You need to drop this.” A soft female voice said. Her voice was no more than a whisper.

“I can’t do that.” Miguel’s voice was firm; he had already made up his mind.

“Miguel, you’re torturing her. Just leave her alone.” The delicate voice pleaded. Behind my eyelids, I saw pink and honey color light flash. “Give her time. Let her mourn then let her move on. Maybe she could be happy. She could get married and have a good life.”

“Lyla, I’m not sure if you know this, but telling me that my wife is going to fuck someone else and that that’s why I should let her go has the exact opposite effect.”

“Let her be happy.” The girl pleaded.

“She should have died. I’m saving her.”

“Miguel, please let her go. Please, I really-” I heard him click something, making the second voice fall silent.

Warm arms slipped under my legs as I was overwhelmed by the smell of Miguel.

My Miguel.

He smelled faintly of cologne, sweat, and something else. He pulled me into his arms, laying my body against his strong chest. I felt him grab a heavy arm and place it on his shoulder. Beneath my fingers, I felt a weird material cover his skin.

What the hell?

I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t force myself out of the dream. The medication weighed me down, anchoring me into this strange haze.

Miguel bounced me in his arms a couple of times. I groaned, feeling him stand up. One of the blankets caught on my foot, tugging on my tired body. Miguel gently tossed the blanket onto the bed, offering a few more gentle bounces to my body as he started to walk.

“You’re going to be so happy.” He whispered. Miguel pressed a second kiss against my skin.

Blinding light came streaming through the window. I winced, lifting my hand to shield my eyes. I lay there for a moment before a thought occurred to me.

When was the last time I had been awakened by sunlight?

Miguel had always worked such random hours that we had hung thick blackout curtains over the window so that we had a chance at getting some sleep.

“What?” I pushed myself up in the bed, feeling my t-shirt drop down to cover the soft skin of my stomach. But the left side was caught on something, keeping that side of my abdomen exposed. I glanced down to see a thick bracelet that had been attached to my wrist. I pulled the shirt off of the bracelet, allowing it to fall and give me some sense of modesty as I glared at the contraption.

What the hell was this thing?

I glanced around, searching for some idea as to what was going on.

The only clue was a bright orange post-it note that had been pressed onto the bedside table. It was sitting between a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Plucking the note off of the table, I quickly began to read it.

‘Please don’t be scared. I’ll be back soon. Take this for your head. It will take a bit to get used to all of this.’ It had been signed with a name that immediately made me shutter.

Miguel.

No. No. No.

Did I die?

Or did I finally go insane?

I pushed myself out of the bed, searching for some clue as to what the hell was going on. This was my bedroom. At least, it looked like it was. The closet was the same, the bookshelves were the same, even the weird off-blue shade that Miguel had picked for the walls was the exact same.

It was then that something caught my eye. All of the pictures were sitting upright. I could see our mutual smiles behind the glass. They were photos of us on dates, photos of us at the weird events that Alchemax held, and even some of the more intimate photos we had taken of us in bed with our bodies barely covered by the thin ocean of sheets.

I stepped forward, moving toward the closet. I jerked one of Miguel’s button-ups off of the hanger and inspected it. The spot where he had spilled wine on the cuff was missing. Instead, the material was bleach white.

This was wrong. This was all wrong.

Everything was familiar, but still foreign somehow. There were sheets that were the same color but didn’t have soft faded patches that had been acquired from stains during love making. There were clothes that I remembered wearing, but they didn’t have the small tears or stains in them. Everything was put together from memory, but it wasn’t my memory.

If I didn’t look too closely at it, it could almost be perfect.

Slowly, I stepped forward. As I moved toward the dresser, I stopped. In my home, my real home, there was a creak in the floorboard. Miguel had spent an entire weekend trying to fix it after we had moved in, but it was all in vain.

Maybe I was just paranoid. That was the only solution.

I leaned backward, then forward again in an attempt to get the floor to creak.

A deafening silence filled the room.

I reached down and pulled at the bracelet. It was heavy on my arm. I slipped my fingers under the band, attempting to pry it off of me. But it was no use. It had been secured at the base, making it impossible to remove.

Then, I did the only thing I could think of.

I ran.

I bolted from the bedroom, moving down the hallway. When I reached the stairs, I took them two by two. Frankly, I was amazed that I didn’t slip and break my neck. But fear is a hell of a motivator. I sprinted through the living room, searching for the front door of our house. I threw open the front door and rushed outside, ignoring the fact that I wore only a thin t-shirt and underwear.

I needed to get the hell out of there; I didn’t care about being modest at this point.

It was Nueva York; the buildings were the same, so was the noise. Sounds of construction, traffic, children playing, and music blasting filled the air. But, I couldn’t help but notice the main thing that was missing: no people or vehicles.

“Hello?” I called.

But I was all alone.

“Hello?” I screamed.

Something grabbed my hand, jerking me backwards. I stumbled but was caught before I could collide with the pavement. Strong arms curled around my waist and hauled me upward. I flailed my arms and kicked out my legs in an attempt to get free, but it was no use. The figure turned around and began to carry me back to the house as if I was nothing more than a doll. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house.”

I knew that voice. It was the one that haunted my dreams and filled my every ‘what-if.’

Miguel.

“What the fuck?” I screamed.

“Stop trying to fight me.” His voice was flat. I glanced behind me to look at him. He wasn’t my Miguel. His eyes flickered somewhere between chocolate brown and blood red. The muscles on his shoulders were more defined and the line between his eyebrows was deeper. But maybe that was because of the dark scowl that he wore as he carried me up the small steps of the brownstone.

When he stepped inside of the house, he threw me onto the hardwood floor. As my head hit the floor, he reached behind him and flipped the deadbolt.

That was to make sure that I didn’t try and escape again.

Miguel wasn’t dressed how I was used to. My Miguel always wore some kind of standard, normal clothes. Nicer clothes for work, soft pants, and sweatshirts at home. But this man, the imposter, wore a red and blue costume that stretched over his hard muscles and accentuated his domineering frame.

“You were supposed to wait. I said I would be back soon.”

“Who the hell are you?” I twisted my body so that I was sitting up on the hardwood floor. I pulled my legs close to my body, attempting to hide my thin underwear from him.

“You’re joking right?” He asked. He stood over me, inspecting me with a look of both confusion and disappointment.

“No, I’m not. And what the hell did you put on my arm?” I shook my wrist, trying to loosen the device.

“Stop trying to take it off. If you do, you’ll die. Unless that’s what you’re hoping for.” He said as he studied me. I froze.

“What?”

“It keeps you alive in this universe. You’re not from here; you don’t belong here, so if you take that off, you’ll glitch until you die.”

I glanced around the room, taking in all of the little imperfections. The room was wrong, reminding me that I was in some kind of strange prison.

“What is all of this?” I asked. Miguel stared at me at if the answer was so obvious.

“It’s our home.”

“No… no, it isn’t.” I said. “What did you do to me?” I pushed myself off of the floor. As I did, I pulled at the bottom of the t-shirt. The man stared at me, his eyes dancing between the terrified look on my face at the pale skin of my naked legs. As his eyes drank me in, I could see them turning to a deeper shade of red.

“Who are you?” I asked. He let out a dark chuckle. As he did, I couldn’t help but notice that sharp white fangs that protruded from his mouth.

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t call me that.” I said. He rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’ve been very sweet to you. But now you’re starting to piss me off.” His voice was sharper this time. He moved toward me and I stepped back.

“Why do you look like him?” I asked. He knew exactly what I meant.

“Because I am him… in a way.”

“I don’t understand.” I said. He once again tried to fill the distance between the two of us. I stepped backward, feeling my back hit the side of the couch. “You died… he died.”

“In your universe, yes. Please call me Miguel. I know this may be new to you, but I am your husband, just a different version of him. I mean you no harm.” The dull ache from being thrown on the floor said differently. “I did all of this because I love you.”

“You don’t know me.” I said. I slid my hands against the side of the couch in an attempt to find something to cling to. He let out a dry laugh.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I know you in every single universe. I’ve known more versions of you than you can imagine. Versions where you live, versions where you die. So, in a way, I know you better than you even know yourself.”

“If you knew me so well, then you would know Miguel and I never married.”

“Purely semantics. Besides, that’s something that I fully intend on correcting.”

“You’re insane.” I said.

“Don’t fucking call me that. You have no idea how hard I worked to fix everything for you; how hard I worked to make sure that everything would be perfect.”

“Miguel, where the fuck am I?” I demanded. “And I don’t want you to keep saying I’m home. This isn’t my home. Where am I?”

“You could be a little bit more grateful. You should have died.” He said. “You weren’t supposed to be pulled out of the way of a car and you were.”

Anger flashed through me. Just looking at him filled me with a mixture of rage and sadness that mixed together in a sludge that did nothing but make me want scream at him. “I’m supposed to be dead? You’re dead! I went to your funeral! There’s a goddamn sign in the Alchemax lobby for you.” My throat burned and my eyes stung with tears. “Was that all some kind of sick lie?”

“No, your Miguel did die.” His voice was matter of fact- almost cold. It was as if he had said this all a million times before. Hell, for all I knew, he had. Maybe this was some kind of sick game he liked to play. “But, that’s no matter. I’m here now. I made a little pocket universe for you; where you can live and where you being here won’t affect anything. You can stay here with me, and things will be exactly as they should be.” I glanced at the locked door behind him. “You being here won’t affect any other universe and it keeps you out of your own, making sure that all of the canon events happen exactly as they should. The canon is safe and you get to live. Two birds, one stone.” He was so proud of himself.

“Do I have a choice in staying with you?”

His face twitched at my question. “I’ve watched you cry for him at night. I’ve heard you scream and beg for him to come back. You wear his clothes and listen to his music and talk to yourself like he’s still there. For God’s sake, I’ve watched you touch yourself to pictures of him. I just assumed you would have had a warmer reception to me.”

“You had no right to spy on me.” I winced, remembering the feeling of my face being touched in my sleep. He had been there, watching me as I mourned. Besides, there was something in the way he emphases a warmer reception. He was hoping I would immediately adore him and drag him into the bedroom to screw until I couldn’t walk straight. He wanted us to immediately slip into some weird little habit where I pretended to be his loving wife. He said I died in other universes. Was I his replacement, just as he hoped to be mine?

Miguel sucked on his teeth before he stepped forward.

Without thinking, I twisted my body around and bolted toward the kitchen. I had no idea where I was even going; I just wanted to be away from him.

I got about five steps away before he reached outward and grabbed me. This time, his hold was harder. His arms crushed themselves against my body as he lifted me upward and began to carry me toward the stairs. This time, he was holding me so tight that I was sure he was going to break my ribs.

“You’re hurting me.” I gasped.

“Then stop trying to leave me.” He said. “You’re not going to get far and you’re just going to end up hurting yourself.”

He carried me up the stairs, his eyes dark red in the dim light. He carried me to the bedroom at the end of the hall. When he reached the room, he looked down at me.

“Say you love me.” It was a second chance. I paused for a moment, trying to find a way to fake sincerity.

He wasn’t my Miguel. He wasn’t my angel who I curled up with on the couch or who insisted on making me listen to old music that nobody but him would ever like. This man didn’t have that gentleness about him; he wasn’t sweet or loving.

“I love you.” I tried. I knew I sounded like I was faking it.

“At least I know you’re a shitty actress.” He muttered. He dropped me on the floor of the bedroom and then stepped outside before I had a chance to make another getaway. He slammed the door shut.

“Miguel, please let me out.”

“Ah, now you want to be nice to me.” He mocked.

“You kidnapped me. I’m sorry if I’m not the person you were hoping for. If you want someone better, just get a different me from some other place. I’m sure the universe is just littered with them.”

“I saved you. Your universe would have collapsed if it weren’t for me. I offered you the chance to live in a different place, where none of that can ever hurt you and you hate me for it. You want to be pissed? Be my guest. But in time, you’ll love me. I know you will. You always do.”

“Yeah, Miguel, it doesn’t feel like you’re giving me a choice in the matter.” I said. “Why can’t you just find another girl? Anyone else?”

“It has to be you. Because it always is, no matter what. Every time, we end up together so I can’t just grab some random person. Besides, there aren’t too many of you who aren’t already with some version of me. Stealing wives from other versions of me just sounds wrong.”

Yeah, that would be the wrong part. Not the whole kidnapping thing. He keeps flipping between lunatic and romantic who is waxing poetic about our deep love. Maybe I would have been charmed if I had actually known this man. Plus, there was something weird about the way he said it. Had he considered it? How did he find widows versus wives?

“Miguel, sweetheart, how about you let me out of here and then we can find some kind of arrangement that we both like?”

He rolled his eyes as he locked the door from the outside. “When you decide to be the version of you that I know and love, then we can talk.”

Bastard.

I kicked the door, but I knew it was useless. He was already walking away from the door. In the distance, I heard his voice as he began to speak to someone else.

“Lyla, I’m a little busy right now.”

“It’s urgent.” She said.

It was hours before he came back. I didn’t hear him when he was stepping toward the door. I only heard him when he unlocked the door and let out a low sigh.

“I brought you dinner. It’s in the kitchen. I expect you to eat dinner with me tonight.” He said.

“Thank you.” I squeaked out. I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I was starving. Besides, if this was his idea at a peace offering, who was I to reject. He obviously didn’t want to return me to my real home. Maybe I should just get used to this. “I’ll be down in a minute. I want to clean up a little bit.” I said.

“I’ll get everything ready.” He said. With that, I heard him step away from the door of the bedroom. At least he was receptive to me needing a moment, rather than dragging me downstairs to eat right now.

I sighed to myself as I pushed myself off of the bed. I couldn’t just wear a t-shirt and underwear. I already looked like an absolute mess. My face was swollen from crying and my curls had turned into a frizzy mess from being manhandled so many times in the last twenty-four hours.

My best bet was a shower to calm me down and hopefully take away some of the puffy redness around my eyes and nose. I didn’t want him to see that I had sobbed when I was alone; he may have carted me around in my underwear, but I still had my dignity.

There was a small bathroom attached to the room. It was one that I was familiar with. It was exactly like the one at my house; there weren’t any superficial tweaks that he had made. At least, none that I could see upon first inspection.

I quickly showered, scrubbing my body gently as I went. As I slid a loofah along the sides of my body, I winced. Dark bruises were starting to blossom across my ribs from where he had squeezed as he carried me.

Damn it, that hurt!

I winced as I washed my body, careful not to aggravate any new sore spots that I had gotten. I then washed my hair, making sure that it was nice and clean.

Stepping out of the tub, I realized that I hadn’t grabbed a towel. I was sure that he would put them where I always did. After all, that was really the only place for them in the bathroom. I quickly ducked down and pulled open the door to the bathroom cabinet. The towels had been stacked on one side, random trinkets and things he had brought for me rested on the other. I snatched a towel from the pile as I eyed the objects.

They were the usual fair, mixed in with a few oddballs. Tampons, deodorant, razors, women’s shaving cream, a perfume that I wore pretty often, a couple of bottles of hand and body lotion, a toothbrush, toothpaste, an eyelash curler, a new tube of mascara, hair gel, and a dozen or so other hair things. I sighed and quickly added several of the things to the counter. I needed to brush my teeth and do my hair. As I stacked those things on the counter, I couldn’t help but notice that there were more things resting against the very back of the shelf. Against the wall sat two small pink boxes that were still in their clear wrapping from the drugstore. I frowned as I pulled them forward, moving them closer so that I could see them. The first was a new box of pregnancy tests. I shook the box; sure enough, it actually contained what it said it did. Part of me expected the box to be a decoy and to either be empty or filled with something outwardly sinister, like a camera. Why did he buy me pregnancy tests? I flipped the second box over and was greeted by a bulk box of ovulation test strips, meant to check for when I was ovulating. I winced equally at both of the packages. I quickly shoved them back into the cabinet and closed the door.

Part of me wanted to know why those were what he chose to buy me; the other part was scared to know the answer.

I quickly stood up and began to dry off. It was a short time between when I finished showering and when I stepped out into the bedroom, my hair styled with my curls down, my teeth brushed, and my skin dried of any excess water.

Stepping to the closet, I noticed that all of the dresses in the closet were too formal. Most of the clothes that I typically wore were missing. No t-shirts, jeans, or even standard pajamas. Damn it, Miguel. I quickly walked over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer.

Based on what was there, my best bet was the baby pink nightie that lay on the top of the pile of clothes. It was obviously new; a tag was still attached to the spaghetti strap and frankly, I had never seen it before, so I figured that it was something he had picked out himself.

I pulled the dress on, wincing when it stopped several inches above my knees. I pulled on a pair of underwear and then snagged a grey cardigan from the closet in an attempt to have a chance at being warm.

What I was wearing was closer to lingerie than actual clothing, but that didn’t seem to matter at this point. He had dragged me around twice in my underwear, on top of the fact that he said he had watched me touch myself to him. My face burned at that thought.

Besides, if he was right and we were always together, then none of this would be new to him. But maybe it would make him be nicer to me if he thought I was being nicer to him.

I stepped through the hallway, careful not to lose my footing in the dim light. As I went, I couldn’t help but notice one of the more glaring differences between my universe and this was. The door to the room that rested next to the bedroom wasn’t stained with its dark russet shade. He had painted this door yellow. That was clearly a recent change; the air still smelled heavily of paint. But why the hell had he painted it in the first place? Maybe he was used to it being a different color and was perfecting it to fit his little fantasy.

I made my way downstairs. He was sitting in the small breakfast nook that rested in the kitchen. He had set out the white plates and arranged the food so that I had easy access to everything. As I rounded the corner, he glanced upward. Something stirred in his dark eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Miguel was sitting at the table, pushing around an eggroll with a plastic fork. He had changed out of his standard red and blue spider suit into an old sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants.

Lucky bastard.

He looked tired. He had a dark stain of blood on his left cheek and I was sure that it wasn’t his. I didn’t want to think about whether or not the owner of that blood was still alive, because I knew there was a good chance they weren’t. I watched him for a moment before I stepped away from the table. He frowned, watching me closely. I was sure he was watching to verify that I didn’t make another run for it. I quickly pulled a washcloth out of one of the lower cabinets by the sink and then turned on the faucet. Once the water ran warm, I wet the rag, wrung it out so that it wasn’t dripping, and then I turned off the water.

I stepped back into the small dining area. “Miguel.” I said in an attempt to get his attention. His tired eyes drifted up to meet mine. The eyes that were once a burning red were now a warm brown. They were almost the shade of coffee. He watched me with such an intensity that it made my face turn a dark maroon. I was sure that he noticed, but he didn’t remark on it.

I leaned down slightly, moving so that my standing height could line up with his sitting size. God, he was so damn tall. “Miguel, here. You have blood on your face.” He reached up to take the cloth but was surprised when I gently pressed the warm material to his face. “Just hold still for a second.” I whispered. For a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had changed out of his suit for comfort or if it was just as coated in blood as his face was. The idea made me shudder internally.

I gently wiped away the dried blood, folding the cloth as I went so that I didn’t rub old blood against his face. When I reached the hollow of his cheek, I slipped one hand under his strong jaw and had him tilt his face to the side in an attempt to give me a better angle. He closed his eyes, giving in to the gentle touch.

He was touch starved. I could tell by the way his breathing slowed and the hairs on his arm stood on end. He wasn’t used to being touched; not anymore. Not in any way that offered any kind of tenderness.

“There you go. All clean.” I said. He opened his eyes and he nodded. His eyes then dipped downward toward my dress.

“Nice outfit.”

“It would appear that most of my actual clothing is gone. So, I have plenty of clothing for the bustling city life outside and I have plenty of lingerie, but everything else is a bit sparse.”

A smile pulled at his lips with my comment. Then, he nodded. “I’ll bring you your clothes from your home universe.”

“Thank you.” I said. Miguel leaned forward and grabbed a container of orange chicken.

He had ordered us Chinese food. It was something that I couldn’t help but note was the same as we had had on our first date. I glanced at the label and confirmed that it was the same restaurant and everything. We had eaten there the night we had first met. We had dipped out of a party at Alchemax early. I hadn’t wanted to be there, but my father had worked there for so many years that it almost felt like an obligation. When I had turned to leave too fast, I knocked wine all over Miguel, but he hadn’t seemed to mind.

“Are you okay?” This Miguel asked. I quickly nodded as I was pulled from the distant memory.

“I am. Thank you for dinner.” I pushed a small amount of food onto my plate and then returned the container to the center of the table.

“You need to eat; really eat.” He said. His brown eyes danced over my face as he searched for something in my gaze. He was hoping to find some kind of love there; a familiarity or affection that I could offer him.

“I feel sick.”

“That’s just because you aren’t used to being in a different universe. Consider it like jet lag. You’ll get used to it in a few days.” He noticed when I didn’t move to eat. I stared into space, feeling my previous convictions about being sweet to him begin to slip away. “I could always make you eat.” He said.

“You wouldn’t do that.” I muttered. He let out a low sigh and then returned to his food. He wasn’t going to argue with me. Or maybe I was right; maybe there were some things he wouldn’t be willing to do to me. But he had walked in sporting horror-movie levels of blood on his skin. So, who knows?

“Is there anything that’s bothering you?” He asked. “You can always ask me.”

“Are you going to lock me up in my room again if you don’t like the question?” I asked. He didn’t respond.

Tread lightly, I guess.

“Why do you look different than my Miguel?”

“I’m Spiderman. Your Miguel wasn’t. He was close, but he didn’t quite get there before…” His voice faded off. He was trying to be sensitive to me, in his own fucked up way. Or maybe his own narcissism wouldn’t allow him to talk about his failures, even in a different universe.

“Do all Spidermen look like you?” I asked.

“Are they all so devastatingly handsome? Afraid not, sweetheart. They don’t usually look the same. Hell, they can look like anything. I found one that’s literally a cartoon pig. But appearances aside, they can mostly do the same things: climb walls, shoot webs, the whole lot.”

“Ah.” I said. “Do they all have the…” I tapped my finger to my teeth, motioning for the fangs that protruded anytime he spoke. He shrugged.

“That seems to be a thing entirely unique to me.”

Did I sense a bit of insecurity there?

He furrowed his brow as he turned his attention to the dinner plate. Damn it, now I felt bad.

Why the hell did I feel bad for hurting his feelings? He kidnapped me and had dragged me around like a rag doll. But I couldn’t ignore the guilt that started to brew inside of me.

I sighed as I moved closer to him. Even if he was my captor, I couldn’t help but see him as the man who I still loved. Even if that ended at the physical resemblance. I slid to the edge of my chair and reached my arm out for his face. My fingers slid against the rough stubble of his jaw, tracing the side of his face for a moment. He leaned his head to the side, moving into my touch.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. He nodded, lifting a hand upward. He laid his fingers on top of mine, holding my hand there against his skin. God, he was burning up. Did he always feel like this? Maybe he was actually sick. My Miguel never ran this warm. Or maybe it was just a side-effect of the spider bite. I didn’t understand any of that well enough to question it and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask about it.

Suddenly, something clattered to the ground in the kitchen, making me jump. I pulled my hand back from his face, feeling the reality of the situation settle in. I slid my hand back into my lap, watching as his eyes lingered on for entirely too long. His brown eyes swam with a deep want. He wanted me to keep touching him.

Maybe sleeping with him would knock him out of this lovesick spell. Or maybe it would only make it worse. He stared at me, moony eyed and desperate. He was Miguel, even if he wasn’t my version of him. Maybe he could genuinely love me, even if only in his own fucked up way.

“If you loved him so deeply, do you think you could ever love me the same way?” He asked.

“Miguel…” I said. His face twitched slightly. I couldn’t say no; maybe I could, eventually. Or maybe he would become crueler, and I would hate him every second of my life. I didn’t know what to tell him. He leaned back in his chair, his face twisting in an attempt to conceal a deep pain.

Change the conversation quick. Change it before the night could descend in chaos with either us screaming at one another or him locking me in the room again. Or maybe he would just send me back to my own universe to die. After all, if he couldn’t get what he wanted from me, then there was no use in keeping me here.

He made a low noise and then returned to eating, never saying anything about how I had dismissed him.

“Why did you paint the door in the hallway?” I asked. He paused, trying to think up an answer. Then, he swallowed his dinner and shook his head.

“Just decided that it looked better that way.”

“But why? What was wrong with the original color?”

“Does it really bother you that much that I changed one thing?” He asked. His voice had an edge to it now. I clearly was not supposed to ask about the door. But why? It was just a damn door.

“No, but it’s weird that that is the one thing you decided to change. I figured that there was probably a reason.” He rolled his eyes as he took another big bite of food.

“Can’t you just be happy? Most people would overjoyed if they had the opportunity that you do.”

“Yes, I’m quite sure that most people would just love to be stolen from their bed by their boyfriend’s psycho twin. Frankly, that’s every woman’s dream.” My voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that he rolled his eyes. “How long are you planning on keeping this up? This isn’t the Truman Show. You can’t just keep me locked up here for the rest of my life so that you can get your kicks spying on me. And I’m not going to act out some fifties sitcom for you.”

“You don’t have to. I just want you to be… you. Or, as close to it as possible.” He said. As close to me as possible… the words rattled around in my head for a moment.

“You want me to be her.” His face twitched. “I lost him and you lost someone who looks exactly like me.”

Dear God, that was exactly it. All of my suspicions were correct. I was supposed to play house with him, while pretending to be a very specific version of myself that he had once loved. I had to be the perfect version of his wife; the one who doted on and loved him, or else this was all for nothing.

“Have you ever read The Great Gatsby?” I asked. He stared at me, his gaze littered with something.

“Tread lightly, sweetheart.”

“The book is about a man who tries to relive his past. He is so sure that repeating everything and making little adjustments will fix his world.” I swallowed hard, trying to make sure he understood what I was saying. I wasn’t his toy; I wasn’t meant to be wound up to perform for him. “Miguel, you can’t fix things by redoing them. People die. You have to let them go. If your wife died, you need to let her go.”

“I don’t hear you saying that about him.” He sneered.

“That’s because I didn’t kidnap you. I was willing to let you… to let him go.” All of the terms were confusing. This man looked like my Miguel, but he wasn’t. He was a different version of him, which I guess could also make him him, just a different kind. God, I was confusing myself.

“That’s bullshit. I know you want him back. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look at me.”

“I think what you’re seeing is a mixture of fear and your own reflection.”

“You love me.” He said.

“I don’t know you, Miguel. I don’t know who you are. I know who you look like, but that doesn’t really help your situation.” I paused for a long moment. “How did she die?” I asked. He shook his head.

“That’s none of your fucking business.” He snapped. I flinched at his words.

“I have the right to know how she died.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t even know how your own husband died and you think you have the right to pry into my life.” With that, he pushed himself up from the table.

He tossed the plate into the sink and it shattered against the metal of the basin. I heard him swear in Spanish under his breath. He was pissed but he hadn’t meant to do that. Maybe that was just an every day occurrence with spider strength.

He began to head to the archway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. As he stepped, I heard him swearing under his breath. I also heard my name several times.

“Miguel, where are you going?” I asked.

“You hate me so much, maybe it would be better if I wasn’t around.”

“Miguel, where are you going?” I repeated. He muttered more words under his breath. I watched as he pushed several buttons on the sides of his wrist device. He flipped a top piece on the metal bracelet.

“Lyla-“ he started.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I pushed myself up from the table, following him as he left the kitchen. He didn’t reply. I rounded the corner, following as he stepped into the living room. Upon entering, I was nearly blinded by a massive orange and pink hole that swirled and twisted in the center of the room. With every step he took, he drifted closer to it.

So, that was how he managed to leave and then come back. If what he wore on his wrist was capable of doing it, I wondered if mine was, too. No, surely not. The intent was to keep me here; giving me an opportunity to escape would defeat the entire purpose. He said that if I took it off, I would die. I had no choice but to believe him on that front.

“Miguel.” Still no answer. “Where are you going?” He stepped toward the portal without a sound.

“Miguel, where the hell are you going?” I repeated.

He rolled his eyes as he glanced down at the device on his wrist.

“If you leave, what the hell am I supposed to do? There aren’t any people outside. I’m going to have to guess that all of the buildings are empty. Are you coming back? Am I going to starve to death? What if I get hurt? What if I fall down the stairs and die? When the hell are you coming back? How am I supposed to contact you?” The words fell out of my mouth so fast that I didn’t have the chance to consider if these were stupid questions.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” He scoffed. But he didn’t offer me any kind of actual answer.

“Miguel, you said you were my husband. You can’t just abandon me.” He flinched, but he still did not turn around. “Please…” I begged. If he left, I was stranded. At least with him here, I was guaranteed human contact and sustenance.

“Miguel, I need you.” I said. As the words left my mouth, I did the only thing I could think of to get his attention. I slid my hand up to the cardigan and quickly slipped it off of my shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice or care when it dropped to the ground below me. I then reached upward and grabbed onto the thin spaghetti straps of the pink nightgown. Without hesitation, I pulled them over either shoulder, allowing the gown to slide entirely off my body and pool onto the floor at my feet.

“Miguel.” I repeated. This time, my voice was no louder than a whisper. That was enough to get his attention. Or maybe he had heard the dress gather on the floor at my feet. I swallowed hard, feeling the cold bite at my bare skin. I was standing almost naked in the middle of the living room, wearing only a thin pair of underwear that offered very little coverage.

Miguel glanced backward. His eyes caught expanse of my bare skin and I swore I saw him smile.

“Don’t leave.” I said. I lifted my hands and crossed my arms. It was a force of habit. I felt so exposed like this. Though, I quickly lowered my hands, knowing that getting his attention was my best chance at him staying.

He turned around to face me. “Please say something, Miguel.” I whispered. The longer I went without a reaction, the more I started to feel like an idiot for this. Maybe I had just made myself look stupid in front of him. Or, better yet, maybe this was something his wife wouldn’t have done; maybe this would make him send me back home to die.

He slunk forward, a predator approaching prey. I saw the portal swirl into a smaller and smaller hole in the universe. Then, it closed, leaving us alone in the dim light of the living room.

Miguel moved so that he was only a few inches in front of me. The material of his shirt grazed my naked skin, making me wince. The shirt was too rough against my goosebump littered flesh. He stared down at me. As he did, his eyes turned from warm brown to a deep red again.

His palm drifted up to cup my cheek. His skin burned to the touch. I swallowed hard, feeling his fingers stroke the side of my face. It was almost as if he was petting me; like I was a toy for him to play with. He leaned down. His lips grazed the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Let me know if I hurt you.”

“Huh?” He pressed his mouth against mine, hard. His lips were warm as he began to work them, moving them so that they forced my mouth open. I moaned, overwhelmed by it all. As his lips slid against mine, I was sure that I would be bruised tomorrow.

A fang brushed my bottom lip, making me gasp. “Gentle, Miguel.” I whispered.

“Sorry.” His warm breath covered my face. He smelled intoxicating. He straightened his stance, moving away from me. When he pulled away, I let out an audible whimper.

God, please tell me I didn’t genuinely want him. I swallowed hard, feeling myself getting slick between my thighs. I was sure that if he looked, he would see a spot forming in my underwear.

I wanted to hold him. I tried to grab his shoulders, but our heights were too off. He was too tall for me to grab hold of. I pushed myself onto my tippy toes, but even that wasn’t enough. I was still too short for him. Miguel noticed this and leaned downward, allowing me to curl my arms around his strong shoulders.

“That’s my girl.” He slipped his hands down and curled his fingers around my bare thighs. He jerked my body upward. I curled my legs around his hips. He was already getting hard, causing his pajama bottoms to strain.

Miguel stepped forward, carrying me up the stairs. I knew where we were going: the bedroom. I pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. Even in the dark, I could tell he smiled.

He was getting exactly what he had wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to make it all stop. I wanted him. I had craved him for so long and here he was. He wasn’t my Miguel, but maybe he wouldn’t die. He was stronger than my Miguel. Maybe that would allow him to stick around.

He twisted the door handle, leaving deep dents in the shape of his fingers in the cold metal. He was trying his hardest to be gentle with me, but I knew it was a battle he would most likely lose.

He tossed me on the bed, throwing me just a tad too hard. I landed on the opposite side of the mattress, groaning as my head almost collided with the wooden headboard. “Miguel.”

“I know, I know.” He teased. He flipped his hand over, shooting a fine web that caught my ankle. “Come here, sweetheart.” He rolled the webbing around his fingers, pulling it tight. I gasped, feeling my body sliding across the sheets. He dragged me down to the edge of the bed.

“Miguel!” I squealed. He smirked as he pressed his knees into the bed, pulling me so that I was only a few inches away from him. He pulled the web off my skin, making sure that it didn’t hurt me.

“Do you do that a lot?” I asked.

“As often as you, sweetheart. Next time, I can web you to the headboard.” My face flashed bright red. He chuckled.

Miguel reached down and grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt. He hauled it upward, pulling it over his head before discarding it on the floor. Taut muscles danced under his skin. Every inch of him was bound in hard muscle, covered in perfect skin.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against my knee. His fingers wandered up my thighs, feeling my bare skin. He pushed his other hand into the mattress.

“Miguel, please.”

“Please what?” He asked. I took his free hand in mine and guided it up to my chest. He moaned, offering a soft squeeze.

Miquel scrambled up to my chest. He caught my nipple in his mouth and moaned, licking the sensitive skin as he sucked. His fingers kneaded my other breast, stopping every once in a while to offer the hard peak a gentle pinch.

I brushed my fingers through his dark hair. He smiled against my skin, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “What?” I asked.

“Let me know if I’m too rough with you.” With that he slinked down to the warm skin of my thighs. He traced his lips across the bare skin. As he went, he opened his lips to gently suck and kiss the bare flesh. Every so often I would feel a burst of pain that lasted no longer than a second. He mumbled something against my skin. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, moving so that I could see what he was doing.

Another sharp pain shot through my left thigh as he buried his face in my skin. Miguel glanced upward, feeling my eyes on him. His fangs had nipped my bare skin, making me yelp. “I’ll be more gentle.” His voice was warm and weighted with lust.

He slipped upward and slid his fingers under the waist of my panties. He bit the material with his teeth. I heard him snip the material and rolled my eyes.

“You can’t do that to all of my clothes. I barely have any to begin with.”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He pressed a warm kiss against my bare hip. Then, he moved to the other side. He repeated the same action, slicing through the material using his fangs. He placed a kiss on that side, as well.

“You’re such a showoff.”

“Am not.”

“You could have just pulled them off of me the normal way.” I fought back a laugh.

“I can bench press a city bus. I don’t need to showoff to you. Besides, learn to have some sense of romance.” He threw the remains of the panties onto the floor. He immediately pressed a soft kiss against the mound that had been covered by my underwear.

He was extremely careful when he shifted downward. But the dull ache on the skin of my thighs where he had bit made me want to make my only request. “Hey, no teeth.”

“Funny, that’s what I always tell you.” He muttered. I rolled my eyes. “Lay back and hush up.”

“You’re so damn bossy.” I shifted on the mattress, spreading my legs wider for him. He placed his hand across my folds and gently spread them to expose my clit. He flicked his tongue across my clit. “Fuck, Miguel.” I lifted my hips off the bed, moving closer to his face.

He started to work, flicking his tongue over my clit as the index finger on his free hand traced my opened. He collected my wetness on his finger, sliding it around to make sure that I was good to go. Then, he slipped in his middle and index finger, sinking in until his knuckles touched my pussy.

I moaned, feeling his tongue work its magic.

Fuck, he was good at this.

He curled his fingers inside of me, brushing my sweet spot. I grabbed the back of his head, feeling his head bob under my palm as he licked.

Then, something occurred to me. He knew every inch of my body because he had fucked me thousands of times in the past. Even if it wasn’t me, it was a girl who was exactly like me. Maybe I was just that predicable. Or maybe he was just that good.

He picked up his speed, lapping between my folds as I curled my fingers in his hair. I was close and he could feel it. He could feel the twitches and miniatures spasms on his tongue as he worked. “Miguel, I’m close!” I whimpered.

He licked faster. Suddenly, pleasure shot through me, filling me with a white-hot heat. I moaned, spasming around his fingers as I came undone.

Miguel whispered something into my thigh as he pushed himself off the bed. Then, he pulled down his pajama bottoms, allowing for his cock to spring upward. It smacked against his lower stomach, heavy and decorated with a dark vein that ran along the underside. He kicked his pants off into the floor and then crawled on top of me.

He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. I could taste myself on his lips.

“This may hurt at first. I won’t move until you’re ready.” He said. He reached down between us. I watched as he grabbed his dick, stroked himself twice, and then lined himself up with my entrance. Without another word, he slid inside, making me gasp. I curled my legs around his hips, pulling him in deep as possible. “That’s my girl.”

I was overwhelmed with a stretching sensation. Arms rested on either side of my head as he stayed in place, waiting for me. After a moment, I leaned forward and kissed him, giving him the go ahead. One hand drifted up to my face. He caressed my cheek and his lips glided against mine.

He drew his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out. Then, thrusted upward, hitting deep inside of me. I gasped into his mouth. “I forgot how tight you are.” He murmured, his words slurring together.

My hands slid down his muscled back as he started to fuck himself into me. All the while, he kept his mouth on mine. I could feel his heart beating against my chest as he worked.

“Miguel…” I moaned, rocking my hips against him. I could feel my lower stomach tightening.

Suddenly, he whispered my name. It was so gentle that it was almost unsettling, considering the circumstances. I glanced up to meet his gaze. But as my eyes met his, he dipped downward. He buried his face in the curve of my neck so that I couldn’t see his eyes.

“Miguel, what’s wrong?”

He rutted his hips upward, burying himself as deep as possible. I gasped, digging my nails into his back. Despite how hard I had sunk them in, they didn’t break the skin. He was indestructible… at least, physically. I slid one hand across the skin of his back, moving to his dark hair. I could have sworn I heard him murmuring something into my neck. I could feel his lips moving against my skin, offering some kind of low prayer. But to who?

“Miguel…” He pulled his hips back again and then quickly slid inside of me again, grinding his hips against me to get a reaction. I gasped, tightening my hold on his hair.

“Say you love me.” His voice was dreamy, and his words slurred from pleasure.

“What?” I asked. It caught me off guard.

“Say it.”

“I love you.” I felt his hips still their movements. He was weighing the authenticity of my words. After a moment, he lifted his head from my neck.

“Say it again.” His eyes peered into mine. He was searching for something in my stare.

“I love you.”

“Good girl.” With that, he continued to beat into me, groaning when I would tense around him.

We were both close. I could tell by the chorus of whimpers and moans that were filling the room. That familiar tightening in my stomach was close to coming entirely undone.

He pivoted his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside of me. Miguel stared down at my features. He wanted something very specific from me before he finished. He ground his hips, making me gasp.

Fucking hell, Miguel.

With that, I felt myself come undone. Pleasure shot through me, making me clamp down on his dick. He grunted, never stopping his movements. “Miguel, I love you!” He groaned at my words. He kept hitting deep inside of me, making sure to grind himself against me every couple of thrusts.

His orgasm overtook him. He groaned my name as he gave one final thrust, hitting deep. I felt his body tense under my hands.

Slowly, we both came down from our highs. We were dragged back to the reality of the bedroom. The day had faded into night, leaving us in darkness.

He had finished inside of me. I could feel a deep warmth inside of my stomach. I also felt a distinct wetness that was hard to ignore. I sighed, relaxing into the mattress. I unhooked my legs, waiting for him to slide out of me. But, instead, he reached behind him and closed my legs again.

“No…” He murmured. Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against my lips. In this position, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was so intimate; so loving. Maybe he really did see me as his wife. He pressed another gentle kiss against my mouth. I closed my eyes, giving into the softness of the moment.

“You have to do something for me.” He said. I opened my eyes to look at him.

“Okay.”

“I want you to love me like you loved him. I want you to look at me like I’m your hero and that I’m special.” He inhaled sharply before he reached forward to brush one of my curls off of my forehead. “I want you to care if I die.”

I nodded. What other option was there? I was trapped in his little universe; it’s not like I could ever leave or be with anyone else. Besides, we were still literally connected at the hip.

After what felt like an eternity, he slid out of me. He leaned back on the balls of his feet to inspect me. I immediately closed my legs, though that did little good. He reached forward and grabbed my knees, prying my thighs apart. Warm cum dribbled out of me, coating the naked skin of my upper thighs.

He smirked at his handy work before pushing himself off of the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, turning on the faucet and grabbing a towel from the cabinet.

It was then that something occurred to me. “Miguel, I’m not on birth control.” I said. He nodded, acting as if I had just told him about the weather. He stepped out of the bathroom holding a damp washcloth. “Miguel.”

“What, sweetheart?” I stared at him, feeling my mind begin to race. He climbed onto the bed, moving to where I was laying. He sat down between my thighs and gently began to clean the remains of him off of my skin.

“You didn’t… you didn’t use a condom and I’m not on birth control.” I said. I could feel my heart beginning to race. Why wasn’t this bothering him in the same way?

“You’re my wife.” He said as he wiped my skin.

“Miguel.” I repeated. I wanted him to react.

“What are you wanting me to say?”

“Anything.” I said. I wanted some kind of actual reaction.

“Things are exactly as they need to be. Whatever happens, happens.”

“That’s not an answer.” I said.

“Maybe you need to learn to be happy with what you’re already working with.” He finished cleaning me up and then walked to the bathroom. He had made sure to only clean the skin outside of my body. He didn’t try to remove any of the fluid inside of me, despite how much there was.

He came back to the bed and quickly climbed in. “You should get some sleep.” He said. I stared at him, searching for some idea about what he was thinking. He offered a soft smile in return.

Was he fucking with me?

Did he really love me or was he just using me as a quick screw?

Did he actually want me to be his wife… or was this some fucked up mind game of his?

He leaned back against the pillows and then lifted his hand. He curled a finger toward him, motioning for me to come. “I’m not a dog.” I muttered.

“Then be a good girl and do as I ask.” He reached forward and gently grabbed my body. He slid me closer to him, moving me so that my head lay against his bare chest.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Afraid so.” He said. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my side. He slid his fingers up and down either side of my body, taking in every soft dip and curve. Every so often he would lean down and kiss the top of my head.

I couldn’t help but notice the way that his fingers traced over my lower stomach. He looked wistful as he traced the soft skin. I squirmed, feeling insecure.

“Stop wiggling and get some sleep.”

“Then stop feeling me up.”

“I’m not feeling you up. I’m trying to be nice to you.” He murmured against the top of my head. He pressed another kiss against my hair.

“You’re an ass.” I muttered. I rolled his eyes as he continued to pet my bare skin. His heartbeat played in my ear.

As I began to drift off to sleep, I felt him begin to play with my frizzed curls. He would coil a stand of hair around his finger and then let it go, satisfied with the soft curl that had formed.

It was something that my Miguel liked to do, as well.

Maybe they weren’t all that different.

I heard his strong heartbeat against my ear as I faded away from the room.

Before I fell asleep, Miguel pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. “Please don’t leave me.” He whispered.

I love you...

#miguel o'hara #Miguel Ohara smut #Miguel o'hara smut #Miguel O'Hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #Miguel ohara x you #Miguel o'hara x you #Miguel ohara imagines #Miguel ohara fanfiction #spiderman99 smut #spider verse smut

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guksfairy · 5 months ago

Text

word count: 1k

notes: JK is 22, OC is 21, Tsuki is Jungkook’s sister, secret relationship, mentions of a nsfw Polaroid, I love them 💕 (not proof read yet!)

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

Best Friend’s Older Brother JK who happened to always be around when you come over to hang out with his sister, Tsuki, even though he had a job and was an active final year university student

Best Friend’s Older Brother JK who would keep a constant eye on you two so the second Tsuki would step out of a room he’d make his way to you and grab your waist before kissing you with all his might telling you how much he misses and needs you

Best Friend’s Older Brother JK who knows your whereabouts 24/7 and consistently confuses Tsuki when he’s aware where you’re at but she doesn’t

“Ugh Y/N left her work jacket here. I’m gonna go to her place before she goes in,” Tsuki, grabbing her keys, making her way to the front door is stopped when her brother answers, “She’s already working,” nonchalantly while cutting up some fruit he craved.

Tsuki stood frozen with her hand on the door knob before slowly turning back to face Jungkook with her eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

With a subtle panic Jungkook quickly fixes his composure and replies, “Uh I ran into her earlier and she told me she was called in to cover someone’s last hour,” avoiding eye contact he clears his throat hoping it’s enough for his sister to not ask him anything else.

“Okay well regardless I’m still gonna take it to her and probably grab a bite to eat. You want anything?” Jungkook shakes his head waiting for the second Tsuki walks out the door to run to his phone and text you.

Koo 💕: baby my sister is on her way to your work

Koo 💕: just take off my sweater before she gets there sweetheart

Best Friend’s Older Brother JK who lies to his entire family before going on their annual family vacation that he was feeling a little under the weather in order for his parents and sister to leave him home alone. His parents and Tsuki reluctantly leaving him alone with little worry. Tsuki texting you the day of.

Tsuki my baby🤍: hey babe you think you can go check in on Jk later today? He’s not feeling the hottest 😕

Your phone pings moving your attention from your boyfriends’ lips to your screen. Reading the text makes you giggle peaking your sweet Jungkook’s attention as he reads the screen. If only his sister knew the second his family’s car was out of view he had already called you to come over with a duffel bag full of clothes enough for 4 days and 3 nights.

Best Friend’s Older Brother JK who carries a Polaroid he took of you in quite the intimate moment. You laying on his bed on your back, his cock clearly deep in you with your face showing nothing but pleasure.

“Pleaseee I just want an energy drink!” Tsuki begging Jungkook for the nth time to buy her a drink. She didn’t have the best sleep the night before due to staying up all night trying to finish a paper she put off until the last minute. Her brother refusing to because “energy drinks aren’t good for you”.

“I’ll buy. I’m craving some gummy bears,” you’re heard from the back seat as Jungkook parks the car in front of the store.

“Really?” Tsuki’a face lighting up with joy before her brother takes out his wallet handing it to you.

“It’s fine. Here,” his sister staring awkwardly at his hand extended to you instead of his own blood relative before snatching it making him panic.

“Give it back,” his tone was supposed to be stern but his sister unbuckles her seatbelt before leaving the car with the promise of grabbing your desired snack as well.

“Are you trying to be obvious baby?” you giggle hitting his shoulder lightly.

“Sweetheart I suggest you chase after Tsuki right now and grab my wallet,”

“What? Why? She’s just gonna get snacks,”

“Your Polaroid is in there,”

“The one you took of us at our picnic date?” already in a slight panic you get ready to catch up to your friend.

“No, the one where I’m fucking you raw,” he says it like it’s almost nothing before laughing when you whine his name and get out of the car as fast as you could to get your boyfriend’s wallet out of his sister’s grip.

Best Friend’s Older Brother JK who pokes the inside of his cheek when his sister tries to talk you into a date with a guy from her graphic design class.

“Oh he’s so dreamy! Besides you need some,” she stirs the pancake mix she’s preparing for her best friend and brother.

Her brother, with his eyes on his phone screen, trying to block out his sister’s intention of setting up his girlfriend with another guy. Clearly not being able to when he slams him phone on the table placing all his attention to your conversation.

“Why don’t you date him then?” Jungkook says before you could even answer her previous suggestion.

“No. Seongmin is cute but he’d be way better with Y/N. I mean he did ask for your name last week when you walked me to class,” she smiles and winks at you before turning to the stove ready to make the delicious breakfast.

“He did?” your response made Jungkook look at you clearly reading why do you care?

“He did! Oh Y/N you’re so getting a boyfriend,” your friends excitement was cute but your boyfriend who had a pout on his cute face made you melt.

“I don’t think I need one,” getting up from your chair you give a quiet kiss to Jungkook’s temple and make your way to help Tsuki.

Jungkook’s cheek a shade of pink while his pout disappears and is replaced with a cheeky smile.

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut

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amazingmaeve · 2 years ago

Text

PERFECT FAMILY

homelander x fem!reader (+ryan)

summary — Homelander wants to find the perfect mother for ryan since the incident with becca happened. just someone to take of ryan when he’s out or when he’s working. just a maternal for ryan. maybe someone to comfort him as well and that’s where he finds you.

warnings — dark fic, Homelander being a warning in itself, stalking, kidnapping, kinda Stockholm (it’s dark), violence, blood, angst, a bit of fluff

word count —

authors note — I legit just had this idea when I was reading @noforkingclue s fic. so go read that one because it’s amazing

homelander masterlist | the boys masterlist

“Now I know Ryan, no one can replace your mom, your mom is your mom,” Homelander stated as looked down at his son who stood next to him. “But I need someone, maternal, to take care of you when I’m away, even for your stability and mine,” He says as Ryan looked somewhat hopeful. “Now if you don’t want me to find you a new mom I won’t it’s your choice son,” He says putting his hand on his shoulder.

Ryan looked down thinking about it, he loved his mom, more than anything and she was gone, because of him. But if he could have someone who could love him at least half the way she did he would love that. Someone to just care for him like a mother can.

It could be a second chance for him. Even if he knew she wasn’t his real mom, she could love him like one. Treat him like one and he wanted that choice, someone other than Homelander to be a parent.

“Now what do you think buddy,” Homelander questions after a few minutes of silence.

“I’d like that a lot actually.”

“Me too buddy.”

“I’ve been hired by the Homelander to teach his son,” You question with a bewildered expression on your face. You stared at the woman sitting in front of you.

Yes you were a teacher but the kids you usually taught went to the school you were in at this moment. But no one could really blame your shock, you were just a normal teacher at a normal school who taught normal kids. This was on a whole different playing field.

Of course you’ve heard about Homelanders son, everyone on planet earth has probably heard about him. Ryan was his name you learned. Of course you felt a great deal of sadness for the young boy, it seemed like he didn’t have a mother and his father was a little on the crazy side from what you’ve heard. But could you really handle this?

This boy was the strongest kid in the world, and his dad was the strongest man in the world.

Anyone would be nervous to even think about accepting this offer. You were leaning more on the yes side, due to the fact that they were going to pay you a lot of money and since a teachers salary wasn’t much you didn’t really have a choice.

But some other reason inside you felt bad for Ryan, you wanted to help every kid that needed it, even if he was the strongest supe kid. You were also kind of afraid to say no to Homelander, you’ve read stories about what happened to people who said no to him and it made something burn inside of your stomach and your whole body tense up in fear.

“So what do you say, Miss. Y/L/N,” The woman in front of you asked as you looked around at the class from.

“I’ll take it,” You accepted tentatively.

And before you even knew it you signed your life away that moment and you probably could not do anything to reverse it in any way.

Today was your first day to teach Ryan and your first day actually meeting him in fact. You hadn’t even met Homelander who was his father, it seemed like if you were going to teach his son he would’ve at least wanted to call you.

But nope. Nothing. Not even an email.

You shook off those worries and just tried to put a smile on. You didn’t want to worry Ryan and wanted to help him and his journey on learning

Taking a look at yourself in the mirror you put your hair in a ponytail before shaking your hair and pulling the hair tie out and shaking your head and running your fingers through your hair trying to sort it out. You decided that having your hair down was best for you. You dusted off the pencil skirt you were wearing and tried to straighten the lavender blouse you had on. You didn’t even know why you were caring about what you looked like this was going to be just like teaching the kids at the school. But just one on one.

But you knew the reason why you were so nervous. Homelander, his father. You didn’t want to have one single thing wrong with you that would tick him off and him deciding to kill you right there. You were pretty sure that Homelander was a fickle guy due to who he was and to the public. But you hoped that his son being there would stop him from doing anything rash but you didn’t put anything past him.

“Fuck it I look fine,” You whispered to yourself in the mirror before grabbing you bag that had everything you needed in it.

Getting in the car you put the address into your phone and started driving to Homelanders place. Which you had to agree was weird. You thought he lived at Vought and his son would live there as well but no from the looks of it and where you were driving it looked like he had a house in a suburban neighborhood.

The house looked just like any house on a family sitcom. It wasn’t too big, or too small, it was normal. That ticked a red flag in your head because there wasn’t anything normal about Homelander. You were pretty sure he had people dressing him and cooking for him every night and he was living here in this normal house.

You had this horrible feeling in your stomach but you pushed those feelings out as you sat in your car for a few minutes before exiting the house and walking up to the door where you froze for another few minutes. You took a deep breath before pressing your button to the doorbell.

Rubbing your wrist, you tried calming your nerves but it wasn’t working. You had every right to be nervous. This man was the most powerful man in the world and by default the most dangerous man in the world. You didn’t want to do anything to tick him off.

He seemed very high maintenance and wanted everything to be perfect so it confused you why he asked for you to teach his son. You weren’t the smartest teacher out there, hell you weren’t even the smartest person in the school you taught. The question kept running through your brain as you stared at the door waiting.

Suddenly the door opened to reveal the man himself. Homelander. Standing there in his suit with that same smile plastered on his face as he saw you. Luckily he didn’t seem angry so maybe luck was on your side today.

“Ms. Y/L/N I was worried you weren’t going to show up,” Homelander says and you look at him confused. You didn’t think you were late.

“Oh I’m sorry sir I didn’t realize I was late,” You say taking a look at your phone that you pulled from your pocket and you were only a few minutes late. Well you weren’t wrong about the high maintenance.

“It’s only a few minutes as long as you don’t make a habit out of it,” Homelander waved it off as he opened the door wider so you could walk in. You didn’t know what he meant by that. Were you seriously going to have to be here on time every fucking day.

Walking in the house it seemed brand new which seemed about right, since you thought that Homelander lived in the Vought tower. He must’ve just bought it for him and his son, and you were a bit curious about Ryan's mother and where she was. Nothing in the news stated anything about her and that made a child run up your spine about the possibilities of what could’ve happened to her.

Back on the topic of the house. It was perfectly clean and you wondered if a kid even lived in this house. You’ve been around kids all ages and they weren’t the cleanest so to say you were kind of dumbfounded at this.

“Ryan come to the kitchen please,” Homelander called out as the two of you stepped in the kitchen. You put your bag on the table looking at him to make sure you weren’t angering him at all. “He’ll be down here in a second, he’s been waiting for this all week, jittering like fucking cokehead,” He said leaning against the kitchen counter.

The language threw you off. You didn’t take Homelander for someone who swore at all and you shook off the shock and gave him a smile.

“Well that’s good, you don’t see it that often, kids wanting to learn,” You say, wringing your fingers in front of your stomach, the pit in your stomach was still there but it was shrinking as the conversation kept going.

“That’s all what I’m about, wanting Ryan to get a good education so that he can be successful in life, that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Homelander told you, putting his hands behind his back. “…..And to be honest he wasn’t the only one looking forward to this meeting,” He gave you another smile showing off his pearly whites.

“Oh that’s a nice thing to hear as well,” You say bashfully, giving a smile.

He wasn’t lying when he said he'd been waiting all this time for you to show up. Ryan was wanting to see you as much as he was. It took them some time for them to pick you out from all the other teachers and you were perfect for him and Ryan. You were in your late 20s, no boyfriend, no kids, no family you talk to, and not many friends, or at least he thought that. You don’t go out much. And to top it off you had that maternal side of you, working in a school, you helped kids all the time and knew exactly what they wanted. It also helped for Homelander that you were an attractive woman.

Homelander knew that it was going to take some convincing to get Ryan on board for this but surprisingly Ryan was genuinely excited to meet you, for you to take care of both of them. Homelander need that, someone to help him with this and everything, someone he could come to and someone who would caress his cheek and run her fingers through his hair. Someone who would hug him and let him cuddle against her chest. Someone to just coddle him.

Ryan needs a mother to essentially do that as well, someone who could help him when he’s sad or mad or just confused. Homelander wasn’t good at that stuff so needed someone. Someone that could be at their beck and call. Someone who could help Ryan with school and read him bedtime stories so that he could fall asleep. Or when he had a nightmare and needed someone to talk to.

You were that person. You were that perfect person for them. It would just take some time and convincing.

Ryan came running down the stairs as you said that sentence and ran up to stand in front of his dad who put his hand on his shoulders as you gave both of them a soft smile.

“Hey Ryan it’s nice to meet you,” You say, holding your hand out for him to shake.

You were expecting the boy to shake your hand but he ignored your hand and wrapped his arms around your body giving you a hug. You were a bit gobsmacked at this. No kid has ever been that affectionate. But you did reciprocate the hug not wanting to upset him. He was just a kid.

“Told you he has been waiting for this,” Homelander says, giving you a smug smile this time as you caress the back of the kid's head.

“Sorry just a bit shocked no kids ever acted like this,” You say as Ryan still had his head buried in your stomach.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Ryan muttered into your stomach as it was muffled by the fabric of your blouse.

“Ok come on Ryan she’s here for a reason,” Homelander intervened putting his hands back on his shoulders beginning to tug him back but Ryan resisted as his arms stayed locked around you muttering a no into your stomach.

Surprisingly you weren’t scared, he wasn’t hugging you tightly and you weren’t a psychologist but it seemed like he had some attachment issues but you didn’t want to judge too soon. You weren’t privy to his background and didn’t want to make him feel bad for this. To be honest, the maternal side of you was melting from this, wanting to comfort the boy as he stood hugging you.

Meanwhile Homelander was in awe. It didn’t even take you 5 minutes for you to break. You were so perfect for the both of them that made a pang in his heart as he watched you hug Ryan. Although he also couldn’t help a pang of jealousy coursing through him watching you comfort his son and deep down wished it was him you were comforting.

Mentally shaking his head. The time will come, he thought.

“Ryan come on,” Homelander says, giving another tug on the boy he could use his whole strength but he didn't want to hurt Ryan or you for that matter. But he didn’t budge.

You put your hand on top of Homelanders' gloved one trying to reassure him that this was okay. Deep down you this would cause some problems in the future but you didn’t honestly give two fucks at the moment. Homelander tensed as you did that, not expecting but loving it.

“Hey Ryan, why don’t you let go of me,” You whispered, running our fingers through his hair.

“Don’t want you to leave,” Ryan muttered into your stomach again as a confused expression came across your face. You weren’t even here for two minutes and he was worried you were gonna leave. Yeah you knew there was something wrong, this boy was getting attached to your hip and you knew deep down that something must’ve happened to his mother, for him to be attached this much.

“I’m not gonna leave, not yet,” You muttered as you felt him move a bit against your stomach. “I promise and when I do leave, I’ll be coming back tomorrow don’t worry,” You tried reassuring the boy and was a little worried when he gave you a little squeeze at the mention of leaving. But eventually he let up on the hugging.

“Promise,” Ryan says looking up at you.

“Promise, even ask your dad I’m pretty sure if I don’t show up, he’ll do something about it,” You say waving your hand at Homelander.

“Don’t worry buddy I promise you she’s going to be coming here every day,” Homelander promised, giving his shoulders a squeeze. You didn’t want to intervene and say you wouldn’t be coming here on the weekends.

“Okay,” Ryan says, giving you a smile, removing his arms from around you and moving to sit at the kitchen table, where your stuff was.

“Okay buddy lets get started….”

For the next few weeks, everything was going amazing. Ryan was amazing at the stuff you were teaching him and you were proud that he was this smart bright kid. But he was getting more and more attached to you.

To the point that you had to stay a few hours extra, past your planned time and coming over on the weekends as well. Homelander didn’t stop it, he loved it and you knew it but you didn’t know why at the moment. Luckily you didn’t have many friends so you could spend time helping this kid. Plus you liked spending time with both of them and to be honest you were beginning to like coming here everyday, being greeted by Homelander and teaching Ryan. Homelander usually stayed in watching the both of you and you paid no mind, so you didn’t see the longing look in his eyes as you taught his son math.

On his side he was beginning to lose patience and wanted you with the both of them at all times and considered it as he watched over you at nights. He could easily do it. You left your window locked since you lived on an apartment building, you didn’t have any security system, hell you didn’t even own a fucking dog. Honestly he thought your nativity was adorable, you needed someone like him to protect you. He just couldn’t wait to have you in his arms so you could take care of him and Ryan.

You on the other hand were trying to gather up the courage to ask Homelander about what happened to Ryan's mom since his attachment to you became bigger and bigger. It was also quite worrying because Homelanders' attachment was becoming bigger and bigger as well. He was more subtle at least.

Although you weren’t scared of him or Ryan. They hadn’t done anything to indicate that you should be scared. So at the moment you just stayed in your schedule as the times staying with Ryan increased more and more.

On this particular Friday everything was normal as you came to the house but Homelander left in the middle of your session. Muttering something about work. That worried you, you didn’t know what’s going on, and how long you should stay here with Ryan but you tried to brush off the worrying not wanting to worry the boy out.

By the time it hit 6 o’clock you were still worried about Homelander and where he was. But Ryan didn’t know anything which helped you, he didn’t need to worry about his dad.

“I’m hungry,” Ryan stated as the two of you sat and watched tv.

The session had ended an hour ago and the two of you decided to watch tv so that you could help your nerves and Ryan would get a break from school work. But as soon as the tv started the both of you started talking and it felt so normal talking to this boy as though he was a part of your life.

“Oh I could make you something to eat,” You say getting off the couch and he followed you as you entered the kitchen again moving around so that you were in the kitchen as Ryan sat on the chairs that were in front of the kitchen counter. “What do you want,” You question, giving him a smile.

“Mac and Cheese,” He answered with a smile of his own, after some pondering.

You were quite nervous, you didn’t know if Homelander stocked any food here since you barely ate here and Ryan only ate snacks. But when you opened the fridge and cabnits everything was there and you let out a sigh of relief as you started the dinner and began to talk to Ryan casually.

“So Ryan who usually does the cooking here,” You question as you got the noodles ready on the stove, boiling at the point you wanted them.

“Well dad usually gets a chef here since he doesn’t know how to cook and the chef only comes when dads here,” Ryan answered as he watched you cooking. He began to think of his mom and became sad. He sometimes has thoughts about her and he doesn’t like it.

“Hey Ryan what’s wrong,” You asked worriedly, putting your hands on his and rubbing the back of his hands with your thumb for comfort.

“Nothing,” He sniffed, not wanting to cry in front of you. Homelander told him showing his emotions was weak and he especially should do that in front of you as that would make him appear weak.

“Come on bud you can tell me,” You cooed, giving his arm a squeeze. “You don’t have to hide your feelings in front of me Ryan,” You reassured him.

“It’s just my mom,” He muttered as a tear slid down his cheek and you gave him a look of sympathy as you wiped the tear from his cheek giving his forehead a kiss. You definitely knew something went down with his mom.

“That’s fine thinking about your parents especially ones you don’t see anymore can make you sad and make you want to cry and you should, crying isn’t bad Ryan it's good that you can. It shows that you are strong,” You told him in a soft tone,

“But dad said crying in front of people makes you seem weaker,” Ryan says, looking at you with wet cheeks.

Walking around the counter and wrapping your arms around him and he immediately receives it, tightly hugging you and definitely not hugging at his full strength. You ran your hand down his back, comforting him as he sobbed into your chest. You had a feeling Homelander had these values as he seemed like one of those men. You weren’t mad as you know these were taught to him but you were going to have to talk to him about it. Because it wasn’t good for Ryan to hide his emotions especially from his dad.

“Don’t worry Ryan, everything's going to be fine,” You mutter. “I’ll talk to him, don't worry,” You tell him. “And as for your mom she’s always going to be there for you she’s going to be all around you especially in here,” You say putting your hand on his head.

You felt Ryan nodd into your chest as he was still sitting in the chair and you were standing and leaning down. It was uncomfortable but it didn’t matter at the moment.

“Okay,” You say, pulling him away from your chest. “Now let’s get your food ready so you can fill your tummy,” You say, giving him a chipper smile wanting to change the subject. He nodded as he wiped his tears and you walked around the kitchen counter and checked on the noodles.

The rest of the night was spent eating dinner and talking to Ryan about multiple things as his moods got more and more happier and you didn’t really care that Homelander was gone now. You were having an amazing time with Ryan and you definitely weren’t going to leave him all alone here with no one around.

After dinner the both of you sat on the couch again and started to watch tv again and Ryan eventually ended up with his head in your lap as you watched tv. He eventually fell asleep a few minutes after he laid down on your thighs. You began to run your fingers through his hair as you soothed him into sleep. You didn’t want to move him to his bed as that would wake him and you didn’t have the heart to do that at the moment so you just kept caressing and watching the tv waiting for Homelanders arrival.

When Homelander eventually came home it was around midnight and you were still up and to be honest he was surprised that stuck around but he knew that you cared for Ryan and that made his chest fill up with warmth especially when he watched you with Ryan’s head in your lap. God he wanted you so bad but he needs to practice patience.

“Hey Y/N,” Homelander greeted you at the couch and gave you a smile.

“Hey Homelander,” You greeted him with a tight smile. After calling him sir for so many times he told you to call him Homelander and you caved.

“Sorry I made you stay so late. I had an emergency at Vought and had to do some work,” Homelander apologized as he tightened his fist behind his back. He was initially sorry but now he was happy because he could witness you helping his son.

“It’s fine me and Ryan had fun,” You say as you stop moving your hand. “Speaking of him, we should get him to bed it is midnight,” You say.

Homelander melted at the words you said. We. We should get him to bed. As if you were already a family and it made him so happy that you may be coming around to this and you may want this as well.

He nodded and the two of you successfully got Ryan to bed without waking him and you tucked him into his covers and gave him a kiss on the forehead and left the room to greet Homelander in the hall who still had this smile on his face. But you tried to keep your mind on the target, you wanted to talk to him about Ryan.

“You got any wine,” You asked with a tired tone and you were tired but you needed some relaxation.

Homelander chuckled and gave you a curt nod and even though he didn’t drink he knew you had the occasional wine here and there.

Once you got the wine you chugged it down in one instance and Homelander knew he was going to have to do something about that once he got you under the roof. Ryan didn’t need a drunk for a mother and even though you don’t do it often, he knows how addictions work.

“I also need to talk to you about something,” You say, wiping your mouth after chugging the wine like it was your last drink.

“Ask away,” Homelander says, pointing his hand at you, giving you the floor.

“Ryan told me something today that worried me and I wanted to talk to you about it,” You say and Homelander raised an eyebrow at the mention of his son. “He said you didn’t like it when he cried in front of him and other people and I know I’m not his mother or guardian in any way but I know what makes kids turn into angry adults and this is one of the reasons why boys turn into angry men,” You say sternly. “I know you’re his dad and I would normally not even bring this up but I just want to help him and you for a matter of fact and if you want to fire me that’s fine I just wanted to give you a piece of advice,” You say and immediately take a deep breath from all the words you just said.

Homelander looked at you flabbergasted at what you had told him. He didn’t think you had the guts to stand up to him and honestly seeing you angry was definitely a turn on for him. Even though he does think these values, if he wants you to even think about staying with him once he does get you under this roof he has to try it with you. He needs to take your advice even if he doesn’t like it, and he knows once you become a more permanent figure in the house he’s going to need some of your opinions.

“I know I know,” Homelander runs his glove hands over his face feeling out of energy. “I honestly didn’t think about it when I said it just came out,” He mutters looking down at the floor feeling kind of ashamed as though you were disappointed in him and he would hate you being disappointed in him.

“Hey it’s okay I know these things are taught and I’m glad you see these things,” You say reassuring him, also happy he didn’t burn you alive. You cautiously bring your hand to his cheek and begin to rub your thumb along his cheek bone trying to comfort him.

Luckily for your life it seemed like he enjoyed it as he leaned into your hand and slowly closed his eyes at the comfort of your hand. You felt amazing and he immediately preened under your touch and by the sound of your heart beating a little faster he knew you liked it as well.

“You can stay the night if you want since it’s so late,” Homelander whispers, turning his head, giving your palm a kiss, making your whole body heat up under his lips.

“That’s nice of you and I’ll take you up on that offer,” You say, giving him a genuine smile. “But only if you are comfortable with that I would hate to make you or Ryan uncomfortable,” You say fiddling with your wine glass.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Homelander laughs. “Ryan would love to have you here as well as I so don’t worry about our comfort,” He says, finding it cute that you were so worried about his and Ryan's comfort, it also filled his whole body with happiness.

“It’s probably a good idea that I stay here, you have no idea what kind of creeps are out there at this time at night and I wouldn’t want to take a chance with that,” You say, knowing what would probably happen if you did leave and you didn’t like the ending of that story.

“I’ll show you to the guest room,” Homelander states as he stands up and starts walking towards the stairs expecting you to follow him. Expectedly you do as he thinks and follow him up the stairs.

“So anything new interesting going on in your life,” Homelander questions once you reach the top of the stairs.

“Eh not much I don’t go out much, definitely not as much as the people in my age group, that probably explains why I don’t have many friends,” You nervously laugh shaking your head. It’s true you don’t have many friends since you don’t live your life that exciting.

“I get what you're saying, I didn't have many friends when I was younger,” Homelander lies partially. He didn’t have any friends but that’s because Vought was keeping him as a fucking lab rat and he didn’t have any chances to make any friends.

“It’s probably due to my fear of making connections with people, too afraid to let them in,” You say as the both of you trail across the carpet to the guest room, keeping your voices down for Ryan. He gives you a weird look at what you just said and to be honest you would as well. “That’s what my therapist says at least,” You chuckle running your hands over your face as you feel fatigue creep inside your bones.

Homelander makes an ‘ohhh’ face but internally he knew he would have to do something about that. You didn’t need a therapist, especially now since you have him in your life. All that therapist would do is try to keep you away from him and that’s just not what he needs at the moment. He just needs you with him and Ryan, if he had that it would be happiness that he’s wished for, for his entire life.

“Anyways here’s the room, there’s a shower in there and some extra clothes for you to sleep in,” Homelander opens the door as he gives you a look over knowing you couldn't sleep in your clothes.

“Thanks again,” You say, trying not to show how confused you were by the fact he has extra clothes here.

“I’ll be off now, I’ll see you in the morning,” Homelander says his goodbyes, giving you a wave and strolling off to his room but not before you could say anything.

“Goodnight Homelander,” You say.

“John,” He says, keeping his back towards you.

“Huh,” You turn around not understanding what he meant.

“My name it’s John,” He whispers, hoping you heard it and by the extra skip in your heartbeat you did.

“Goodnight John,” You whispered.

“Goodnight.”

After the two of you bid your good nights you both made your way to your respective rooms where the both of you were doing totally different things.

You immediately took off your clothes and made your way to the shower and you were shocked nonetheless seeing a plethora of shampoos and body washes. You tried not to be freaked out that it was the same ones you use, It’s probably a coincidence a lot of people use this you thought to yourself before turning on the shower and making it hot. It was specifically cold tonight and you just wanted to relax.

Once you enter the hot shower your body immediately relaxes as the hot water drips down your body and you hum slowly loving the comfort from this. After a few minutes of just standing there under the water you started to bathe yourself, starting with your hair.

Homelander on the other hand had other plans for what he was doing. He sat his body down on the perfectly neat bad that he almost never sleeps in. Compound V does that to you. He has his body facing towards the room you're sleeping in. He honestly had to have so much self control on not following you in there when he wanted to so badly. With his hands on his knees he watches you undress and get in the shower.

It’s not like it’s something he hasn’t seen before, he goes to your apartment every night after Ryan goes to sleep just watching you do your mundane task. Obviously he got hard from all of this, especially when you took your clothes off or when you touched yourself to relieve stress.

His eyes clothes when you start humming feeling his body start to lock in comfort that he just wishes he could lay down on your lap whilst you coddle him. To comfort him and give him praise. But he knows you're warming up to him as he notices every time you come over you’re wearing some that accentuates your chest so that he would always notice. Your body temperature always rises when he’s around and your heart rate spikes when he’s standing next to you and he loves it. He just loves it so much and he knows how it feels since he feels the same way when he’es around you.

Once you get out of the show you wrap a towel around your body and start to dry yourself and make your way into the room and put on some underwear and an oversized shirt. You don’t even want to know where he got this shit from. You’re just so tired that once your head immediately hits the pillow you're out like a light. But some of it was due to the wine you have to admit.

After about an hour into your sleep Homelander makes his way into your room and he knows you're asleep by the way you snore quietly into the pillow. He notices that you left the light on and he knows that you have the tv on at your home and he wonders if the dark scares you. He shakes those thoughts out of your head as he comes to stand next to the bed and brings his now ungloved hand to caress your cheek.

Luckily for him your body is facing him so he has more leeway. His thumb gently strokes your cheekbone as you sleep and he’s noticed that you were a deep sleeper from the first time he’s entered your apartment. Homelander just loves everything about you even though he thinks humans are beneath him, you don’t count as one of those. You’re special.

Leaning down gently he presses his lips to your forehead. He makes an exit out of the room knowing the next time you sleep here it would be in his bed one way or the other.

The moment you wake up you go to the bathroom and brush your teeth before looking through the drawers and finding that there were some jeans and you immediately thanked god as you put them on and made your way down the stairs knowing it was only 9 o’clock in the morning. Luckily you didn’t have to teach today which caused some stress to exit your body.

Your stomach was growling from hunger and you knew you had to eat something and while you were at it you could make something for John and Ryan as well to thank them for letting you stay here.

Once you got the pancakes ready someone in front of the kitchen counter said. “Hello,”

You jump and immediately turn around to see Homelander standing there with a grin etched onto his face as he watches you cook.

“God John you scared the absolute shit out of me,” You let out a deep breath as he gives you this warm look that makes your body heat up. You’ve always thought he was attractive but you can’t help the ways he makes your heart skip a beat.

“Sorry once you woke up, that woke me up and I came down here wondering what you were doing,” Homelander softly says and you give him a confused look. “Super hearing and a very light sleeper,” He says pointing to his eyes and you have a look of realization on your face.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here and what other way to thank you by making you and Ryan breakfast,” You rush out not wanting to make him mad but in reality nothing you did could ever make him mad at you.

“Don’t worry, it’s sweet that you thought of it and I know Ryan will love it, he usually wakes up around this time so, perfect timing,” Homelander says clapping his hands. “So how’d you sleep last night,” He questions.

“Amazing, the bed was so comfortable that I’m kinda upset that I have to sleep on my own mattress tonight,” You laugh as you take a bite out of the pancake.

Homelander subtly frowned that he forgot that you weren’t going to be here tonight and suddenly he felt his heart race at the thought of that. But on the other hand he was glad that you didn’t want to leave the house, it showed that you were comfortable around him and in his house. He was going to have to move the date of his plan soon because he was going crazy at the thought of you not being here for him or for Ryan.

“Well you’re more than welcome to stay another night, and it makes me happy to know that you feel comfortable here,” Homelander says.

“I just- I don’t know it’s just something about this place and about you and Ryan that makes this place so homey,” You tell him fiddling with your fingers.

“You know that makes me really happy to hear,” Homelander says with a chuckle, making you smile at him.

Suddenly you hear Ryan come running down the stairs and that makes you break out in a grin as he comes into the kitchen with a huge grin on your face.

“You’re still here,” Ryan says with happiness written all over his face alongside the huge smile on his lips. He comes up and wraps his tiny arms around your waist giving you a squeeze and you wince a little. When he usually hugs you, he’s gentle but sometimes he forgets his own strength and squeezes a bit too hard. But it never caused any long term damage and you could handle it since he was so happy to see you.

“Of course I am buddy I would never leave without saying goodbye to you,” You say leaning down and kissing his forehead while putting your arms around his shoulders giving him a squeeze too, not as hard as his but a squeeze nonetheless. “But I am going to have to go home soon you know that right,” You say not wanting to lead the poor kid on that you’re staying here forever.

“No I don’t want you to go,” Ryan sternly mumbled into your stomach as you felt his shoulders stiffen and you looked up and saw Homelander with a melancholy expression on his face and you frown in confusion.

“I know Ryan but you know you’ll see me soon, I’m not going to up and leave you forever,” You try to reassure him but giving his head a light caress.

“But why can’t you just stay here, it would be easier for you, and you wouldn’t have to drive here everyday and-and you wouldn’t be worried about the time,” Ryans words stumbled out of his mouth.

You didn’t know what to say to that, it was still obvious that Ryan wanted you here all the time and now it was bigger than the first day you met him and your heart started to race as the thought that you let this happen. You didn’t want to hurt Ryan, he’s such a sweet boy and you never want him to be sad but you can’t just break these boundaries. Even though deep down you know you’ve already broken a lot of boundaries.

“Ryan sweetie I know you don’t want me to leave but-,” You say but you were interrupted by Ryan.

“No don’t leave, please just don’t leave, dad make her stay,” Ryan says as he starts to cry into your stomach and you feel your throat start to dry up and your eyes begin to water.

His arms tightened a bit more and you held in a whimper not wanting to upset Ryan even more, you knew he didn’t want to hurt you so you just stood there and caressed his hair trying to remain calm.

“I know you’re upset Ryan and and you just- your dad can’t-,” You began to say again but this time you were interrupted by the man you were talking about and you were relieved at first but once the words came out of his mouth your heart rate increased.

“Okay I’ve had enough of this I didn’t want this to be today but it can’t go on like this anymore, you’re staying here and that’s final,” Homelander sternly said pointing this finger at you as you stood there agape at what he just said.

You could feel yourself stiffen and begin to sweat a bit as nervousness began to set and you swallowed as you tried to keep your calm but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat. Suddenly there was this knot in your stomach, the type of know that made you want to throw up and pass out, but with Ryan’s vice grip around you couldn’t even move.

“Homelander- John I can’t just stay here I don’t live here,” You rush out as you try to keep your breathing calm.

“Well know you do,” Homelander snapped. “I know this might be upsetting for you at first but soon you’ll love it here and I know you love it here when you come here everyday so why not just stay here,” He says trying to calm you down as he hears your heart increase and your breathing become more shallow.

“Because I don’t fucking live here John,” You snap giving him an angry look as Ryan nuzzles into your stomach and you can tell he’s starting more anxious due to the fighting but right now his father was being unreasonable.

“Hey you watch your language in front of my son,” Homelander snaps at and you swore you could see his glow red for a second and then you felt your stomach fall to your ass as your hands began to shake while you were caressing Ryan’s head.

You tried to say something but nothing came out as your breathing became more and more erratic as the reality of your situation began to flood your head. You felt a few tears roll down your face as you bit your lip trying to keep your sobs in. Breathing in and out you tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t helping. When panic attacks usually happen to you, doing that usually helps but it’s not.

Homelander closed his eyes as he listened to your uneven breathing. This isn’t how he wanted to do this but, Ryan was freaking out and it was going to happen sooner or later so he just figured that why it not me now. He knew it would take time for you to settle but soon it would be like paradise for all three of you, he knew it.

“Okay Ryan bud,” Homelander came around the kitchen island to put his hand on Ryan’s other shoulder to get his attention as you looked up at him with fear in your eyes. “Why don’t go outside and play for a bit while me and Y/N talk okay,” He says, squeezing his shoulder.

“Why,” Ryan grumbled into your stomach and you closed your eyes as you felt Homelanders hand run down your arm.

“We just need to talk and situate everything,” Homelanders said. “Don’t worry she’s not leaving you can count on it,” He says as he gives you a look. Ryan doesn’t move and Homelander sighs. “Isn’t that right Y/N you’re not going to leave,” He says and Ryan looks up at you.

“Uh yeah,” You say as a tear trails down your cheek you put your hand on Ryan’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me, I'm staying,” You say with a tremble in your voice.

Ryan nods and gives you one last squeeze before running out. You rub your sides as you try to keep calm. You stand completely still as Homelander approaches you and puts his hands on your cheeks wiping the tears. You let out a little whimper not knowing what he was going to do.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you, I would never hurt you,” Homelander says at least not on purpose he thinks. “I know this must be hard to deal with but trust me when everything falls into place you are going to LOVE it, you won’t have to worry about anything any more,” He says giving you a pleading look.

“Homelander-Homelander-,” You stutter trying to begin your sentence but you were interrupted again by him.

“Don’t call me that, call me John,” Homelander says with annoyance coming across his features.

“John,” You begin to say. “I know it must be hard being a single dad but I-I can’t stay here,” You tremble underneath his hands as he looks at you in what you could describe as disappointment.

“Yes you can, you can stay here and take care of Ryan and take care of me, you can quit your job, you won’t have to worry about having to pay bills anymore, or about how you’re gonna eat with what money you have. You won’t have to worry about the guy who keeps fucking harassing everytime you leave your apartment. You just won’t have to worry,” Homelanders rants and your face looks as if you’ve seen a ghost. “I love you,” He whispers as he

You’ve never told him about your money problems. You never told him about your neighbor Ted who keeps flirting with you and groping you, and that information makes you stare up at him in shock. But on the other hand it feels nice to have someone wanting to take care of you, to care about you, to make sure you’re okay. Someone just to love you. You haven't been in a relationship in such a longtime that this is making you almost want to smile up at him.

“John I-I If you felt this way about me this isn’t how you go about it, you ask me on a date and then we work up to it,” You say, hesitantly raising your hand and putting your hand on his cheek giving it a gentle caress.

“I knew you weren’t going to like this but it’s a part of the risk, I need you here, and I know in due time you'll realize how right I am,” Homelander whispers as his lips hover over yours.

“I-I what about my stuff? What about my life?,” You say as the panic starts to come back.

“Don’t worry I’ll go and get it and you’ll feel like you’re just at home,” Homelander says before giving you a short peck on the lips. “Now,” He claps. “That's settled, I can finally relax and eat those pancakes that you made,” He says before sitting down.

You give him a wary look as he gives you a wink before delving into the food.

It’s been a few days since the whole Homelander kept you here and you were in denial for a bit. You thought he would send you home and that this whole thing was a prank and you could go on with your normal life.

But reality sunk in when Homelander moved your stuff into the room you slept in. You cried yourself to sleep that night not knowing what you were going to do. But you were woken up to Ryan shaking you and going on and on about how happy he was that you were here.

You didn’t want to admit it but it made you happy that Ryan was so happy to have you here but you wanted to keep a hold of your sanity, not wanting to fall into the trap. But you knew that you were going to give in, it was just a matter of time and you also knew that you didn’t mind it.

The past few days though Homelander has barely been at the house making you wonder if you could actually get away with packing and leaving. You could just run but it didn’t matter anymore, he would find you. No matter what. How could you run from him, he probably had eyes on you this whole time. You didn’t want to be on the reciprocating end of his anger so you just decided to stay put.

Another reason was Ryan. You didn’t want to leave him alone. You didn’t want him to feel abandoned by you, he’s already been through so much and you did want to help him and in the end you just decided that you would suck it up for Ryan. You would do this for him.

And he was so happy every day when he woke up he came to your room and climbed into your bed whilst resting his head on your chest. The two of you talked like it was just a normal day and you wanted it to stay like that.

But while Homelander was gone, you found yourself missing him, maybe this was Stockholm settling in but your heart was starting to ache for him. You wanted to feel his touch and feel his love, you couldn't keep that from him, he would just hear your heartbeat.

On the fifth night you were sitting on the couch with a glass of wine as you watched tv. You just put Ryan to bed a few hours ago and you wanted to catch up on some of the tv shows you watched.

Suddenly a whoosh made you jump a little and turn around to see Homelander standing there with a look of sadness on his face. His shoulders were slumped as he looked at you and it made you want to coo at him and ask what’s the matter.

“John, where’ve you been,” You say softly as he shakes his head softly and feels his heart race at the thought of you being worried.

“You’re not mad at me…. Anymore?” Homelander questions with a sullen tone and with a little pout on his lips that almost made your lips quick in a smirk but decided against it just in case that would make him angry.

“John you have to understand why I’m mad, you’d be angry if you were in my position, hell you’d probably set the house on fire if you were in my position,” You say with a tiny chuckle.

“I just don’t want to make you angry at me, I did what I did for my son and…. For you,” Homelander whispers as rounds the couch you were sitting on and points at the seat next to it subtly asking you if he could sit.

You nod and he sits next you and his body stiffens as he does not know what to do. You notice his saddened look and you feel your heart skip a beat at that.

“C’mere,” You sigh, opening your arms and the two of you lay down on the couch with Homelanders neck nuzzled into your neck and you running your fingers through his hair and he lets out a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile your other hand carefully caresses down his back trying to make him more happy and as you place a kiss on his forehead, you can feel him smile into your neck making your heart race.

His hands carefully wrap around your waist as he minds his strength while hugging you. This is heaven to him. This is what makes him happy.

As you keep running your fingers through his hair, he rubs his nose against your clavicle and gives you a few kisses there that makes a shiver run down your spine and you don’t want him to notice but he does and he gives your hip a squeeze. He knows you don’t want to admit it deep down that you like it but he can feel that you do. You love it.

“I’m glad we’re finally making progress,” Homelander whispers into your ear giving you a kiss right below it and you shake your head and chortle. “You’ll love it soon enough.”

“I just know it.”

And deep down he was right and you knew that.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x oc #homelander x y/n #homelander x you #homelander imagine #homelander headcanons #homelander smut #ryan butcher #the boys x reader #the boys x oc #the boys x you #the boys x y/n #the boys smut #the boys imagine #the boys headcanons #the boys

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coldfanbou · 7 months ago

Text

What A Few Drinks Do

Alright, new twice mommy series part. We had some slight fallout from the last part before we spent some time with Dahyun. We learn something interesting about this mommy lol. This part is gonna help set something up for later.

Length 2.5K

Dahyun X Mreader

Last Part

Next Part

You wake up, get ready, and drive to Dahyun’s home. You chat with her briefly as she puts Eunsoo in the back. “You said Nayeon was just going to ride with us yesterday, right?”

“Mhmm, she just wanted a good look at the area. She hasn’t asked for another ride, so we can go as soon as I have Eunsoo all set.” Dahyun buckles in her sleepy baby and climbs into the back, checking herself for everything. “We’re all set back here.”

“Then let’s get going.” Your drive is peaceful, and the two of you walk into work. You notice Jeongyeon hadn’t come in yet. It was strange, but you thought that maybe she was just going to be late. During your break, you meet up with Dahyun, “Did you see Jeongyeon at all today?”

“No, I haven’t. Nayeon’s not here either,” Dahyun pouts as she begins to think with a bit of worry on her face, “Do you think something happened to them?”

“I don’t think so, to both of them? I’ll call Jeongyeon, and you can call Nayeon. You do have her number, right?” Dahyun nods her head and calls Nayeon while you do the same for Jeongyeon. You hear the tone as you wait for your call to go through, only to get sent to her voicemail. Dahyun receives the same response, but neither woman responds. The two of you are considering visiting Nayeon. “I don’t know where Jeongyeon lives, so we’ll have to visit Nayeon to see if she knows anything.” Dahyun nods her head.

“Yeah, I hope nothing bad happened.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much Dahyun. They’re strong. Let’s finish the day before going.” Dahyun nods along, her face a mix of concern and uncertainty. The two of you focus on your work, trying to distract yourselves before finishing up the day and heading back to her home. You unload Eunsoo first, helping Dahyun get everything back home before heading to Nayeon’s apartment. You knock on the door when no response comes; you knock again, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.

This time, the door opened; it was just a crack, but it was enough to tell you Nayeon was home. “Nayeon!” Dahyun says, relieved to see her. “We got worried when you and Jeongyeon didn’t show up for work. Are you alright? And do you know if Jeongyeon is okay? We tried to call her earlier.”

Nayeon opens the door a little more, “Sorry for not coming in today. It’s just that Jeongyeon isn’t doing so well.” The older woman looks inside before turning back to you. “She found out her husband has been cheating on her. She’s been in bed crying all day. I don’t think now's the time to have company.” You struggle to find the words to respond.

“Is there anything we can do for her? Maybe bring her something to eat?”

“We’d appreciate that, Dahyun. I’m probably going to miss the next few days of work while I watch Jeongyeon. I’ll tell you both when she starts to feel better.”

“Right, we appreciate that, Nayeon.” You tell her before she closes the door on you and Dahyun. You head back to Dahyun’s home, entering behind her. “Dahyun, would you mind if I stayed the night?”

Dahyun gently bounces Eunsoo in her arms as she heads towards her bedroom. “Of course. Let me put Eunsoo down, and I can start something.” Dahyun uses her body to close the door to her bedroom. Placing Eunsoo in her crib, Dahyun's grin grows. She knew it was a bad situation, but she was happy it caused you to spend more time with her. Dahyun jumped up and down in the room as quietly as she could, far too excited. She calms herself down, running her hands through her hair to clean her messy hair before stepping back out.

“What do you want to eat?” She says, struggling to hide her smile as she looks at you.

“Let’s see what you have first,” you say as you look inside the fridge. “Actually, let me cook something for you. It’ll be something simple but delicious. We can bring some over to Nayeon and Jeonyeon, too.”

“Yeah,” Dahyun says, walking over to you and placing her hand on your back. “At least let me help you.”

“You can help me after you change, Dahyun. You should change into something more comfortable.” Dahyun nods and hurries to her room, changing quickly before returning in an oversized t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

“Alright, now let me help,” Dahyun says with conviction. The two of you make a small meal of seared fish, rice, and stir-fried vegetables. You prepare enough for yourselves and Jeongyeon and Nayeon.

“We should take these over while it’s still hot. I can take them real quick; you can plate the rest.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You pack some of the food and head to Nayeon’s home. You knock on the door, waiting outside for a second when Nayeon opens the door slowly, poking her out from behind it.

“We made you two some food; it’s still hot.” You tell her as you hand over the food. “Is Jeongyeon doing alright? I mean, is she at least eating?”

“She’d rather not, but I’m making sure she does. Thanks for the food. I know she’ll appreciate it.” Nayeon says with a slight smile. “I’m glad that she’s made some good friends.”

You nod in response, “We just want to see her do well. I’ll be leaving now. Good night.”

“Good night.” She says, closing the door.

You return to Dahyun’s, thinking about how Jeongyeon must be feeling. As you step through the door to Dahyun’s apartment, she grabs your arm and drags you to your seat. “Come on, let’s eat.” You and Dahyun talk about various topics throughout your meal, going from work to what you like to do at home as you have a few drinks.

“It’s amazing that you’re able to work and take care of Eunsoo. Do you even have any time for yourself?”

“Sometimes, but for the most part, I just sleep. I’m too tired to do anything else.”

“I’m sure it must be tough sometimes.”

“Yeah, but it’s a little easier now that you pick us up and drop us off. I’ve had a little more time to sleep in the morning. I’ve gotten the chance to relax more, and I feel really good.” Dahyun runs her finger along the rim of her glass. She gives you a nervous look before breaking into a smile. “Um, would you like to… never mind.” Dahyun wipes her face. You watch it begin to turn red and decide to push her on the subject.

“Would I like to what?”

“I-um was going to ask if you’d like to…” Dahyun looks around the room, trying to find some way to change the subject. You lean over the small dining table and place your hands around the side of Dahyun’s eyes, giving her nowhere else to look. “I want to know if you wanted to have sex.” She says quietly, her pale face turning a bright red.

“What was that?” You ask her to repeat herself, wanting to tease her.

“Do you want to have sex?” Dahyun says as she looks at the dining table.

You stop covering Dahyun’s peripheral vision, “I think that you’re the one that wants to have sex, Dahyun.” She blushes at your statement. The alcohol was talking for both of you; you lean in and steal a kiss from Dahyun. She shuts her eyes, her hands gingerly wrapping around you as you get closer to one another. You grab Dahyun, lifting her as you two continue to kiss. You carry her to the living room, crashing on top of her couch. You feel her legs wrap around you. Your hands move down her sides, grabbing at the hem of her shirt. You lift it slowly before tossing it off her body, seeing her bare breasts as Dahyun looks away from you. You cup one of the soft mounds, giving it a light squeeze and shaking it in your hand. She shivers at your touch, a gasp escaping her lips.

You run your thumb over her nipple, flicking it lightly. A small amount of milk leaks from her tit as you give her breast another squeeze—this time, Dahyun moans, her eyes filled with lust as she grabs the couch's armrest. You kiss the middle of her chest, slowly moving to her left breast. You kiss around her nipple, teasing her as her breathing becomes heavy with anticipation.

Dahyun felt herself getting wet as you teased her body. She could hardly keep her eyes off you. You avoid her nipple, moving up toward her neck and planting sweet kisses. Dahyun coos as she feels your tongue against her skin; your finger flicks her nipple again, making her grimace as her world becomes filled with pleasure.

Your slide your other hand down her smooth stomach, sneaking under her pajama bottoms and rubbing against her cunt, the thin fabric of her panties quickly becoming soaked in her juices along her slit. “Ah, that feels so good,” Dahyun groans.

You stop kissing her momentarily, getting by her ear to tell her, “Don’t forget to make me feel good.”

Dahyun looks down at your bulge and reaches for it. Cupping it in her hands, she feels the heat radiating from it. She rubs it slowly with her hand, earring small groans from you as you get under her panties and push two fingers inside her. “Oh fuck,” Dahyun moans as she grips your shirt. You curl your fingers inside her, rubbing against her walls as you push your fingers in and out of her. You take in one of her nipples, running your tongue along it. Dahyun’s body grew weaker; she could hardly move as you flooded her mind with pleasure. “Keep going,” She moaned, grinding herself against your hand.

“Dahyun, you’re sounding so slutty.” You whisper into her ear.

“Don’t say that. I’m not a slut,” Dahyun whimpers as she nears her climax. You feel her walls tighten around your fingers; you speed up, causing her to whine.

“Don’t you hear yourself? You’re moaning like one.” You say as you flick her nipple with your tongue.

“I’m-I’m cumming,” Dahyun was trying to refuse your claims, but she climaxed before she could finish. You watch her body twitch as she cums, as she soaks her pajama bottoms in her nectar. Still, you continue to finger her, “Wait, please!” Dahyun whines as you overstimulate her. You shut her up with a kiss.

Feeling her walls tighten around your fingers again, you slow down and deny her another orgasm. You climb off the already-exhausted woman, stripping yourself down to nothing before doing the same to Dahyun. Back on the couch, you grab Dahyun and place her on your lap so she can straddle you. Dahyun places her hands on the sofa, trying to support herself as you tease her cunt with your cock. She mumbles something, and when you ask her to say it louder, she repeats herself, “I want your cock.”

“Are you being honest with yourself now, Dahyun?” She lazily nods at you. You get by her ear, whispering your question, “Are you a slut, Dahyun?”

“I’m not a slut,”

“What if I made you my slut?” You let go of Dahyun’s body, letting her support herself but keeping your cock pointed toward her cunt. “All you have to do is drop yourself on my cock.” You make the choice harder for Dahyun by rubbing the tip against her lips. When you come to a stop, Dahyun drops her weight on you, impaling herself on your cock. You both moan. Grabbing onto Dahyun’s waist, you start to thrust, holding her still as you drive your cock deep into Dahyun’s cunt. She grabs your shoulder and fills the room with her moans as your bodies smack against each other. You move one of your hands to Dahyun’s ass, giving the soft piece of flesh a rough squeeze and making Dahyun groan. “How does it feel, Dahyun?”

“I love it, I love your cock.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” You nip at Dahyun’s neck, “Who’s my little slut?” You ask teasingly.

“I am, I’m your slut.” Dahyun groans as she bounces on your cock, her modest breasts bouncing along with her. Dahyun’s walls clamp down on your cock as she says that. You figure that she might like the slight degradation and slap her ass.

“Say it again.”

“I’m your dirty slut,” Dahyun moans, a tired expression on her face as she approaches her orgasm. “I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.”

“Not so soon, Dahyun. Hold on a little longer.” Dahyun bites her lip as she tries to hold off her orgasm. As you continue to thrust into her tightening cunt, you feel yourself about to cum. You speed up, moving like a piston in and out of Dahyun.

“I’m cumming!” Dahyun shouts. You bring her down onto your cock, burying yourself inside her as you cum. Dahyun feels the familiar warmth inside her as your cum rushes into her, painting her walls white as your baby batter makes its way into her womb. She leans forward, kissing you as you both come down from the high. You lay down on the couch, with Dahyun lying on top of you, your cock still inside her. You end up falling asleep like that.

When you woke up, it was early in the morning, and it was still dark outside. A light down the hallway stayed on as Dahyun came back into the living room. She was startled to see you awake. “What are you doing up so early in the morning?” you asked her.

“Eunsoo woke up and started crying. I just finished putting her back to sleep.” Dahyun responds before sitting on the couch. “Last night was…something.” She says, struggling to describe what happened.

“I think we both had a little bit too much to drink,” you tell her, placing your hand on your thigh. Your memories of last night are a little foggy, but there was one thing you remembered. “Dahyun, I’m sorry for last night, but I have to ask.” She looks at you nervously. “Are you into degradation? Because you got really tight when that started.”

Dahyun felt her nerves relax as you asked that question before she began to huff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said defiantly, trying to ignore that part of last night.

“No, I definitely remember you getting tighter when I degraded you.” You squeeze Dahyun’s thigh and lean in. “Who’s my little slut.” Dahyun shivers at your words, and her legs rub against each other. It makes you laugh.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!” Dahyun whines as she smacks your chest.

“It’s a little funny!” You retort as you take hold of her wrists. “It’s nice learning these things about you, Dahyun; now I know how to turn you on.” Dahyun blushes and buries her face in your chest.

“Shut up,” She says quietly. “We still have four hours until work; let's get some more sleep, Mister.” She says, mildly annoyed at you. You stifle a laugh and agree with her as you try to relax and go back to sleep for a little while longer.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #dahyun smut

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nicxl333 · 1 year ago

Note

hello

Could you write about bllk boy accidentally hurting their s/o badly.

It's okay if you're too busy. No pressure

BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM

characters: isagi yoichi, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, barou shouei, itoshi rin

content: major angst, reader is female coded (wears a dress, heels and makeup), mentions of smut in barou’s part but nothing actually happens (lol), vulgar language

☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI

“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”

you lay in your cold, desolate bed for the umpteenth time this week alone, which, considering it was only wednesday showed just how often isagi trained past late hours. as much as you understood his passion to climb to the top, it was simply neglect at this point. to you and to himself. you woke up, he was gone. you went to sleep, he wasn’t beside you.

of course, things were never like this in the beginning. he used to be around, take you out, nurture you and show you devoted love for you each and every time.

until he wasn’t.

once his team reached the quarterfinals of the champions league a while back, he changed. 2 hour training sessions in the evening turned into 4, and the time he spent with you halved as a result. it made you feel lonely and simply put, abandoned.

your texts querying his location and when he was coming home lay unanswered and unopened, probably within the confinement of his phone which lay in his bag during training. so you went to bed alone like you always did, missing what your relationship used to be.

as you stared at the pristine, bare white ceiling you heard a key in the lock of the front door. a few moments passed and the door pushed open, pads of feet resounding in the apartment.

you decided to go meet him in the living room, wanting to know if he’s at least okay.

as you entered the room, you were met with his figure, donned in black sweatpants paired with a black compression shirt. his normal post-training gear. the same gear that never failed to make you melt each and every time. he glanced at you in your nightwear and weary expression, due to him returning back so late.

“hey ‘ichi, how was training?”

“alright.”

you immediately frowned. outside the pitch he was never so curt and void of language. especially with you.

you ventured closer towards him, trying to debunk his guarded persona.

“are you sure? did anything happen to you?” you stepped closer still, till you were right in front of him, immediately noticing his dark circles, even in the dim lighting of the living room from the hallway light. you attempted to give him a hug, shrinking back in disappointment once he shrugged you off.

“i said it was alright. i’m fine, just go back to bed, i’ll join in a bit.”

bullshit. you knew full and well he would just retire to the sofa, watching playbacks of his games to further evaluate his performance. even when he wasn’t working physically he would somehow manage to work himself further mentally.

“yoichi. what’s wrong baby?”

“y/n, i won’t repeat myself again. go to bed.”

you stood there in disbelief. as far as you were concerned, you hadn’t done anything wrong, so it’s quite unbelievable that he would take whatever happened today out on you.

“isagi,” you made sure to use his last name to make aware you weren’t fucking around. “come correct with me please. i haven’t done anything to you and i’m concerned for your well-being. you’ve been going to sleep late, training until ungodly hours. this isn’t good for you and i’m now on the receiving end of your misery, god knows why.”

the tone in the room shifted, isagi, now displaying a scowl across his features at your rebuttal. yes, he was well aware he was maltreating himself, but to have you acknowledge his moment of weakness gave him an displeasing itch of anger that no one could scratch, not even you.

before he could think, the next words that flew out of his mouth changed the status of your relationship, whether he meant to or not.

“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”

you instantaneously drew back, his words punching you in the gut and twisting your insides. your heart leapt and fell, never expecting those words, out of isagi’s mouth of all people.

it was deathly silent for a moment, both parties having a staring match. you fought back tears, trying so damn hard to not allow him to see how his words affected you. alas, your emotions got the best of you.

you lightly sniffled, before balling your hands into fists. “you know what yoichi? fuck you, i’m done.”

you turned on your heel and made a beeline towards your shared bedroom, grabbing your biggest duffel and shoving clothes into them, not minding what it was that you picked up. only once isagi was the only individual in the living room did he snap out of his state, realising the weight of his words. he listened to the loud shuffling, registering that he may have just fucked his relationship over for good.

he swiftly followed you, watching you in a frenzy, having just changed into an outfit suitable enough for outside. it was then that he grasped you were serious, and slipped into full panic mode.

“y/n! y/n please baby, i didn’t mean any of that! don’t leave me.” he reached for your arm, falling apart, the same way you did moments before, when you pulled away from his touch. you knew if you succumbed to his pleas you might— might just stay. but you couldn’t. his words resonated within you and made you accept that fact that you needed space at the most, before your relationship delved into something irreparable.

you stood, duffel bag slung on your shoulder, tears running down each cheek, until they conjoined at your chin.

“isagi, i can’t. not right now. not when emotions are running this high. i need space. we should probably talk when we’re both calmed down. i’ll be at meguru’s house so you don’t need to worry about where i am.”

he respected your wishes, he had no choice. if he wanted this relationship to survive he had to.

so he let you go.

☆彡 MIKAGE REO

“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”

one thing about mikage reo that really ticked you off was his obsession over his best friend, nagi. simply put,

he was always there.

when you were chilling together, when you went out, even after date nights he would come to your shared condo, playing video games with your boyfriend until who knows what time in the morning. it always felt like you had to share and fight for reo’s attention, which was pretty much a losing battle considering reo gave nagi as much of his attention to nagi as he did.

you did your best to not voice your concerns to him, withholding your true feelings, that you did. but sometimes there’s just moments where you can’t help but snap.

and that moment came at your first year anniversary dinner with reo. hell, you should’ve called it your first year anniversary dinner with yourself, considering the fucker didn’t even show up.

you had dolled yourself up so nicely, a sexy silk black dress (purchased with your own money, you didn’t like to depend on reo too much) with matching heels. your makeup was done flawlessly and not a hair out of place.

you sat at an expensive table at an expensive restaurant, sipping over-expensive wine while you waited for him to show up. you hadn’t seen him since this morning, due to him training all day today, but you had planned this dinner with him together a month ago, reservations and all, with reminders here and there about the upcoming date.

you had waited for about an hour, taking into consideration that there could be traffic, although you hadn’t experienced any on the way here, thus giving him the benefit of the doubt.

however, when no signs showed of him arriving you turned to a waiter and excused yourself, paying the bill and walking out to collect your car from the valet.

once it was brought to you and you were seated, ready to drive off, the first thing you did was call reo via the bluetooth feature, beyond pissed off.

after a few rings he picked up, the sounds of video game gunfire audible in the background.

“y/n? what’s up? where are you?”

you scoffed incredulously, ignoring the city lights whizzing past you as you drove on the highway.

“what’s up? where am i? reo, do you know what day it is today?”

“no, why?”

you gripped the leather of your steering wheel, your frustration hitting a boiling point. “you cannot be serious. does our one year anniversary ring any bells, huh? the fact that i’ve reminded you, time and time again? you stood me up reo! what could you have possibly been doing that was more important than remembering a big milestone in our relationship?!”

he didn’t even have to answer for you, because the answer came in the form of a “reo, why did you stop? our team just lost.”

nagi seishiro.

if you weren’t angry before, you were absolutely livid now.

“reo, so you mean to tell me that spending time with your friend was more important than remembering your one year anniversary with your girlfriend? do i mean nothing to you?”

“y/n it’s not that deep, we can just reschedule for tomorrow or something.” you could hear his exasperation through the phone. the audacity of him, considering he was completely at fault here.

“not that deep? not that deep?! you let me sit there for over an hour in an upscale restaurant by myself and didn’t even think to worry about where i was! why is it not getting through to you that you missed our anniversary to play games? you see nagi everyday, whether it’s at training or at home. you mean to tell me that you couldn’t bear to not see him for one singular day out of the week?”

there were probably a ton of possibilities and explanations for why he said what he said next, but if you had to choose, it would probably be the fact that nagi could most likely hear the argument over the phone, which lead reo to attempt to regain control over the situation, by any means possible, to not appear weak.

“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”

oh. you see how it is.

his words stunned you into silence, knocking the wind out of you. the only sounds that could be heard was the continuous tapping from reo’s controller and the low hum of your engine as you drove.

“look y/n i’m busy now, so we can talk later when you’re ho-”

you didn’t wanna hear what else he had to say, hanging up the call via the steering wheel and letting out a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

without fail you indicated to turn off the highway, making your way to the nearest hotel. nevermind the fact that you didn’t have any clothes, you simply couldn’t handle seeing reo after the way he just wounded you.

once at the hotel and settled in your room you lay swaddled in the crisp white blankets. without any external eyes being able to see your state you let all walls crumble, tears cascading down in waves as you let all the previous bottled emotions fly free.

unbeknownst to you, your phone lay on the side table, softly vibrating whilst the screen lit up to show a picture of you and reo at a theme park, a call coming though from him.

it lay unanswered.

☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO

“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”

you awoke to the sounds of rapid gunfire emanating from the living room, sighing to yourself. once again, nagi was devoting himself to a night of endless gaming.

it was a never-ending cycle. when he wasn't gaming, he was training and vice versa. as much as you loved and embraced the fact that nagi was lazy, he could at least make some effort to give you attention every once in a while.

rubbing the sleep away from your eyes you trudged your way through the apartment wearily, before being met with his figure, hunched on the sofa, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

"sei, when are you coming to bed? i miss you."

"in a bit y/n."

"sei baby you said that last night, and i came back to you passed out on the sofa. the bluelight isn't good for you, especially so late."

he barely was around as it is, but when he was, he either slept, or was parked on the sofa.

it made you feel unappreciated, and majorly unloved. he never made the effort to take you out, tell you that you ever looked pretty or even acknowledge you anymore. to you at this point he was practically a roommate with a shoddy title that really shouldn't apply to the both of you.

"y/n, just leave me alone for now. i'm too tired to get into it with you."

"so you're too tired to argue with me being concerned for your wellbeing, but not too tired to invest your time into games, which ultimately drains your thought processes more? really sei?"

he was still focusing on the tv instead of your words, which ticked you off. so, determined to get his full attention, for once, you walked towards the tv and stood directly in front of it, blocking his vision, arms crossed and frowning.

"what the hell y/n? you made me lose."

"seishiro, can you stop being an ass for just a second and focus on me and what i have to say?”

faced with no way out, he had to oblige, placing the controller down with a heavy sigh, letting you know he was agitated. you couldn’t give a flying fuck though. you’d had enough of being neglected by nagi, and weren’t going to let him off this time.

“you don’t spend time with me anymore. you never take me out, we don’t ever talk to each other anymore. is it so bad for me to want to spend time with my boyfriend? is a game really more important than me? or is being with me detrimental to you in some way?”

he rolled his eyes, sinking back into the soft material of the sofa, irises piercing into yours. you shrunk back at his change in demeanour.

“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”

huh?

“nagi, where is this coming from? what do you mean being in a relationship is a hassl- i’m a hassle?”

he shrugged while rising to his feet, placing a hand behind his head and massaging his neck.

“i said what i said didn’t i? look, i’m going to bed, happy now? i don’t wanna argue with you, you’re too loud when you’re angry.”

you stood in shock, registering his words fully before swallowing and deeply inhaling.

“forget it nagi, i’m leaving. lose my number.”

“leaving to go where?” he watched as you briskly walked to the bedroom, following you in as you changed, grabbing your phone and keys.

“that’s none of your concern anymore. i’m breaking up with you.”

he said nothing as you walked to the front door, leaving with a final slam.

he should’ve stopped you, he really should’ve, for he would come to realise soon enough that allowing you to go,

would be one of the worst decisions he ever made.

☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI

“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”

when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. considering he was so headstrong, particularly when it came to football, there would be moments where he might be nonchalant or absent.

what you didn’t anticipate, would be just how bad he would get.

once his mind was focused on football, specifically climbing his way to the top, there were no distractions, especially from his girlfriend, who at times he deemed his biggest distraction.

you did try to help and aid him every way you could, cooking him meals to eat after late night practices, tending to his injuries he may obtain after over-intensive sessions, cleaning up the apartment flawlessly so he wouldn’t be tempted to do it himself. all you really wanted in return was love.

surely that wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

wrong.

even after 7 months of dating, public outings with attempts to hold his hand resulted in subtle swatting away, instead opting to walk side by side. laying in bed together? don’t expect any cuddles from him. quite laughable actually that you’d ever think he’d be willing to do that. don’t think movie nights will be any different either. you’d better be keeping your hands to yourself.

fucking was a rarity, only really when he was very much pent up with frustration from football, libido overflowing from lack of release. and even then, while you were able to cum, that’s pretty much all there was to it. no making love or anything like that. he wouldn’t display his emotions to you enough in the first place for that to ever happen.

when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. but you didn’t know it would be this hard. you figured he would loosen up eventually, getting used to at least some form of affection towards you. a little peck on the lips, or a hug from behind every once in a while would be nice.

one day, you simply grew tired. you were sitting on the dining table with him, having just finished dinner. barou stood up, ready to leave the table to shower.

“shouei.”

he stopped in his tracks, pivoting on one heel to turn and face you. his face remained blank, save for his usual signature eyebrow, arched in waiting.

“hm?”

“i-” you suddenly grew self conscious, afraid to voice your concerns to him. if you wanted things to change however, this conversation had to happen sooner rather than later.

“can we do more stuff together?”

his face now contorted into utter confusion, genuinely puzzled by what you were trying to say.

“what do you mean? i do enough with you do i not?”

“no, not that that sho’, i mean more couples stuff. like…couldn’t you just be more affectionate? i just— i don’t know how you feel about me at certain points, you don’t tell me anything as it is.”

he looked at you, playing with your hands, trying to look anywhere but him, clearly uncomfortable about this conversation.

“cmon y/n, you know how it goes already, i’m not into shit like that. i may like you and all, but all that lovey-dovey stuff? that ain’t me. never has and never will be. surely you should understand how i feel about you? the fact that i’ve kept you around this long should say more than enough.”

damn. fucking cold. either way, you weren’t backing down. you stood there, holding a firm staring competition with him before opening your mouth to speak.

“shouei, it’s been 7 months and news flash! it doesn’t. when you do shit like this, it makes me feel fucking inadequate. like i’m not deserving of you. long story short, you make me feel like shit. i’m tired of it sho’.”

“y/n, regardless of how you feel, i told you how i feel, and that ain’t gonna change.”

you couldn’t accept what he was telling you, believing that what you were saying weren’t getting through to his thick skull. his stance was too relaxed for your liking, arms simply crossed over the other, looking slightly bored.

“you’re not getting it shouei!” you raised your voice slightly, not quite shouting, but about two thirds of the way there. “you’re not understan-”

“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”

you halted, making sure you heard him correctly. to hear that he basically wouldn’t fight for 7 months worth of memories and time with each other left you in denial that it would be so easy for him to let go.

“excuse me?”

“did i stutter? fix up, or leave. two choices, one answer. it’s up to you but whatever you pick is your business.”

he gave you an out, an out from what you were currently going through. and as much as you did love and care for barou, you’d be a fool not to take it. things would only get worse.

you chose the latter, opting to leave, considering how little value your relationship held to barou. weeks passed, and the items you once held in the apartment decreased, leaving a half completed house, just like your heart.

he continued as normal at first, trying to get used to the newfound ‘freedom’. but as days passed on, the emptiness of the household became more apparent. the meals you used to cook were no more, barou having to take on the tasks himself. his injuries were taken care of in a subpar manner. while he could do it adequately, they weren’t bandaged or plastered as well as you used to do it. yes he would clean, but having it done already when he came back from training and to his standard…made him start to realise just how much you really did for him.

and maybe— maybe you weren’t so bad to have around. you did give him a sense of comfort that he could not achieve on his own, filling him on things that happened during your day gave him a sense of normalcy which alternately gave him that balance from his meticulous life as a quickly rising footballer.

he missed you, he missed what you had,

it’s a pity he realised only when it was too late.

☆彡 ITOSHI RIN

“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”

you were both busy. you both knew and understood that. rin was constantly abroad on travels for football and you had your own stuff going on at work, often leaving the office late at night.

when your schedules would occasionally match up and you’d both be home, most of the time it would still be you alone. rin would go off on his own to his usual training ground and work himself to the bone. he wouldn’t even tell you he was leaving, disregarding your worries or concerns that may surface.

you jolted awake randomly, looking to your left to see disturbed duvet covers, but an empty side. yet again. next you turned to your phone, squinting at the light from the screen which temporarily blinded you.

2:34am

you could take a guess or two at where rin was. specifically because you knew he lost his last match abroad and was pissed off about it, meaning double the training he usually did. you threw on some clothes, splashed water on your face and grabbed your car keys to drive to the open football field.

the massive stadium style lights lit up the field, illuminating it in a cool white, as you pulled up next to rin’s car. even from the car park you could hear the discernible sounds of rin’s foot booting a ball repeatedly. once closer, you could see him in his normal training gear, sweating profusely, enough to fill a small bucket.

“rin!”

he stopped, just short of making the next ball his victim, making eye contact with you, not expecting to see you there of all places this late.

he waited until you had crossed the distance between you, and stood in front of him to speak.

“y/n, why are you out here this early? i thought you were sleeping.”

“rin, i should be asking you that. it’s too early to be this active my love. come home please, i’m worried for you.”

all was silent for a moment, the only audible sounds on the pitch being a crow cawing in the distance, and rin’s heavy breathing.

“…i’m fine. just go back home. it’s too early for you to be up.”

you stood, hand on hip, showing your determination to get him to give up, not taking no for an answer.

“rin, you need to sleep. you’re overworking yourself. what happens when you’re fatigued and you leave yourself open for mistakes to happen? it’ll be worse for you in the long run.”

“tch, i wouldn’t expect someone who does office work all day to know the inner workings of an athlete. you don’t understand y/n.”

you sighed exasperatingly at his attempts to disarm you. he could be so stubborn when it was really for his own good.

“rin, i don’t need to be an athlete to understand that this isn’t good for you. anyone with two working brain cells can understand that constant working out and lack of sleep isn’t healthy.”

he rolled his eyes and turned back to the football in front of him.

“fine. whether or not you leave isn’t my problem, but i’m not leaving. stay or go, the outcome is the same either way.”

he took position, aiming and shooting flawlessly at the top left corner of the goal, the ball spinning against the net before falling to the ground.

he grabbed another ball, ready to complete the same procedure before you interrupted him once more.

“rin, just please come home, you can come back tomorrow. just because you lost your match doesn’t mean you should overwork yourself like this.”

this time when he turned back towards you, the tone had shifted. his face immediately darkened, eyes thinning into dark slits, eyebrows forming a crease on his forehead. his teal eyes shot daggers into yours.

“listen. we may be together, but that doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like you know what i’m going through. i’m going to be the best football player out there, and if i need to work double to make that happen, then so. be. it. i don’t need someone like you telling me about what i should or should not be doing.”

you stood in silence, effectively stunned and insulted simultaneously. you couldn’t say anything to counter yourself, rin’s harsh words opening up a side to him you’ve never seen before. that wasn’t the worst of it though.

“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”

your heart shattered, face hung in desolation and disheartenment.

after not hearing you argue back for a while he scoffed, walking to the side to collect his training bag. “whatever, i’m leaving now.”

he left you there, standing while the gears turned in your head to make some semblance of his words.

you didn’t even register you were crying until the cold nipped at your cheeks, decreasing the temperature of the liquid against your face. you pulled yourself together, just about enough to shakily make your way back to your car and press the ignition button.

you spent the whole car ride crying your eyes out, before wiping your eyes as you arrived back home. rin’s car was nowhere to be seen.

you walked up to the front door, slotting your key in and twisting your wrist to align with the lock.

pushing the door open, you stepped in to see the lights off and the aura dark.

“rin?”

silence.

“rin, are you there?”

nothing.

you sighed, tossing your keys on the table next to the door, making a beeline to your shared bedroom. it was empty, no signs of life present.

you stripped out of your outside clothes and slipped under the covers,

leaving you to cry yourself to sleep, wondering when it all went wrong.

baby you sold me a dream pt.2

1K notes · View notes

superblysubpar · 1 month ago

Text

modern!husband!steve harrington x wife!you

2,603 words

warnings: so like, technically, you don't have to read "We'll Call It Love" , my modern steve series, BUT you're missing soooooo much that got these two idiots here, so I really encourage you to do so. This scene is so so so much more fun if you know all that led up to it, I promise. anyways: | alcohol mentions, slight descriptions of use by reader | smut (public - you get caught *kind of* / fingering / piv unprotected intercourse - creampie / wife,mom,breeding, all the kinks from one Mr. Harrington) - 18+ as always

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow at the bottom of the fic!

A/N: I just wanted to say again, thanks for loving We'll Call It Love so much. I actually got to go see the band COIN last night, the music that inspired the fic, the screenplay, and just...wow. I don't have other words for it. Idk, feeling very sappy for all of you today and this story that means so much to me. Thanks for being here, it was fun to revisit these two 💛 and *now* I'm done with them.

Probably.

The day hadn’t been without its issues, but he’d expect nothing less, when it comes to the two of you.

First, there was Eddie’s girlfriend showing up in fake blood, late, covered in swatches of dark and gory fake gashes and goo all down her arms as she frantically rushed past him and shouted something about busy season and don’t worry, his bride was gonna look beautiful and not in a tragically haunting poetic way but in a romantic sunset kissed glowing kind of way.

Which, you did.

But then, there was an issue with the cake, which, wasn’t supposed to be a cake, but a bunch of peach pies. Robin and Nancy were whispering loud enough to bring him into the kitchen, both of their mouths snapped shut as Steve blinked at the largest solitary pie he’d ever seen. It was massive, comically so, and Robin was waving her hands at him, it’s going be fine spilling out of her lips that had just been freshly glossed for photos. Nancy was on the phone with a bakery and then Eddie was stumbling through the door shouting about canceling the order. He smiled at Steve and told him that you started crying which made him frown and start towards the direction Eddie had just come from, but his groomsman and your best man stopped him, assured him that then you started laughing, that you said your parents would have loved it.

Which, ultimately led to issue number three.

Robin had approached him slowly, fixing his tie, before she whispered that they couldn’t find you, but that there was a note, with his name on it. He had grabbed it with trembling fingers, only to find it didn’t say anything like sorry or I can’t do this, but a quote:

“I’ll have what she’s having.”

He rushed past Robin, shouted about being right back.

Steve found you on a balcony, which took a little bit of work, asking the front desk if anyone booked a room under Buttercup, or Allie, Kate, and ultimately Sally Albright. Then they wouldn’t give him the room number till he confirmed his name was Harry Albright, not Harry Burns. His breath caught in his chest when you turned to look at him, chin quivering and a quiet greeting for him before you started crying. It all ended alright, after you talked about your parents and him and all of it and he kissed you and made a joke about wedding curses. If seeing you in your dress before the ceremony already happened, where was the harm in a sunset balcony quickie?

You didn’t go for it that time, only grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room with you, asking if he was ready to get married.

Which he really fucking was.

The floor to ceiling windows overlooking the skyline had been good in theory, letting in the beautiful, breathtaking sunset as you said your vows. But they also let in the warmth, the room an oven, leading you to laughing during the ceremony and swiping at his temple with your handkerchief and Eddie fanning Robin while she officiated. And cried.

There was so much crying.

But it was perfect.

You were perfect.

“Sir?”

Steve blinked away from where he was watching you take pictures in the vintage photobooth, you, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie’s girlfriend were all crammed in, sitting on each other’s laps, to the attendant in front of him.

Perfect, but distracting.

“So sorry, what did you ask?”

The venue employee smiled, like he knew the look on Steve’s face well, and then he shook his head. “Nothing to apologize for, sir. I was just letting you know that all the gifts are put away and locked in the car downstairs as instructed by your wife. Anything else I can do for you?”

His wife.

Steve looked over at you again, sighing as you tilted your head back in a laugh at the images in Robin’s hand.

He smiled at the man in front of him and shook his hand, “No, thank you.”

You felt him before you saw him, or rather, smelt him.

Your body spun to find the source of the salty and fried scent to see Steve holding a container of fresh french fries and a smile and eyes that seemed to be perfectly made, and only for you.

“Hey Mrs. Harrington,” he kissed your cheek, lips lingered against your skin as he asked, “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you groaned, your body crumpled against his as you exchanged your glass of champagne for the fries you knew would end up being a great late night snack offered. Warmth filled your stomach at the sound of your new last name, like a lovesick idiot you swore you’d never be.

Steve lifted a fry to your mouth, eyes a deep burnt amber in the low reception lighting as he watched your lips part and steal the fry from between his fingers, his tongue with a mind of it’s own, swiping out over his bottom lip as yours brushed the pad of his thumb.

You snorted.

“You’re so easy, Harrington.”

Steve lifted the fries away from you, eyes glinting as you pouted and reached for them half-heartedly, content to just lean against his body instead as he joked, “Hey. We’re married. You have to be nice to me now.”

Warm breath hit his jaw as you huffed, “Well, if I knew that was the rule, I never would have said I do a few hours ago.”

A kiss was pressed to his neck despite your words, right against his two freckles, then a smile ghosted against his skin when you heard the low rumble in his chest.

Steve’s lips brushed your ear as he bent down, speaking softly, lowly, and sending the warmth between your stomach directly between your legs.

“Don’t start something you can’t handle, honey.”

Your head lifted, stares at one another challenging and hopelessly and sickeningly in love to anyone who was watching.

“Oh,” you laughed, quietly, leaned in to whisper against his lips, “I think I can handle you just fine, Mr. Harrington.”

He had you in the bathroom not even a minute later, one hand locking the door behind him and the other pressing over your mouth as you giggled.

Steve’s mouth was all over your neck as his hands found your hips, guiding you to the counter.

“You’re so beautiful,” words warm and sticky and sweet against your skin as your head fell back against his shoulder in a gasp when his lips found a new spot behind your ear. “Can’t believe I’m married to you. Can’t believe you said yes. Can’t believe you’re all-“

His hand smacked at your ass as he grabbed a fistful of it, scrunching up the fabric of your dress you could care less about now as he growled in your ear the word, “Mine.”

“Steve,” you hated how breathless you sounded, hated how he’d barely touched or kissed you and you were wrecked already, “Hurry.”

He whined into the crook of your neck, spun you and let his nose trace along the straps of your dress, across the lace covering your chest as his mouth followed, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Steve knelt, regretfully removing his lips from your skin so he could carefully lift your dress, handing it to you with a quiet, “Hold this, honey.”

He pressed a kiss to your check as you did what you were told, but then he got a proper look at you and your lip was captured between your teeth at his groan, from the way his hands ran through his hair.

“Fuck,” he sighed, as his finger trailed up your thigh and found custom, cream colored straps and shiny buckles and pretty lace you’d ordered just for him. “Look at you.”

“You like it?” The question answered by Steve’s own lip bitten raw, his fingers still roaming higher, up the sides of your cunt, already soaked.

“Baby,” Steve laughed, eyes cast down between your bodies, watching carefully as his fingers slipped beneath the wet lace. “Do I like it? I love it.”

“That’s,” your head fell back, exposing your neck his mouth was grateful for. Distracted by the way he dragged his fingers through you, swirled around your clit, the same way his tongue was against your throat. “Go-good.”

Steve pressed against your clit harder, humming against your skin where his mouth was still latched to when your body shook underneath him. Your thighs clamped around his hand, yours clutched at his shoulders with fistfuls of your dress still between your fingers.

He removed his fingers from you, quick to make work of his buckle and pants, aligning himself with you but hesitating just as his tip brushed against your entrance.

Steve looked up at you, under his lashes that cast shadows against pink cheeks dotted with freckles. He gazed at you with the kind of look that you imagined you gave a sunset. Admiring, awed, like you were taking in its beauty the first time every time. Like you knew your time with it might be fleeting, so you had to watch it every second so you didn't miss a single second of it.

He leaned in and let his lips brush over yours tenderly, deciding to take his time and forget the frantic pace you both had started with.

He murmured into your lips as they parted in a sigh beneath his kiss.

“I love you. So much. I think I’ve loved you since I saw you in that bar, I texted Robin about soul mates before I talked to you, I-“

You caught his top lip between yours, an over too quick kiss, but then you were speaking into the corner of his mouth, against his jaw.

“I love you too.”

Steve’s forehead knocked yours, your hips wiggled, making his dick twitch as you stared into each other’s eyes.

“Ready, Mrs. Harrington?”

The tip of your nose brushed his as your laugh bubbled out of you, voice all sarcastic and fond, “Ready? I’ve been ready, Steve. You’re the one taking his tim-ohmygod.”

Steve’s smug smirk twitched in front of you as he thrust into you while fake grumbling, “Me? How about you miss I’m gonna wait over a year to say I love-fuckyoufeelsogood…”

He rolled his hips, only getting deeper, and your thighs tightened on the outside of his, head thrown back against the mirror from the feeling of him inside you, which he followed. His lips skated over your cheek, your jaw, as he slowly pulled out of you and thrust back in.

Your mouth fell open with each drag against your walls that cling to him, that want him to stay there. A noise catches in the back of your throat every time he pushes into you, each time only harder and deeper as he babbled.

“Sorry, I wanted,” he grunted, mouth finding yours only to kiss you once and keep talking, “The first time I have sex with my wife to last, to linger, to-“

Your mouth captured his in a kiss this time, tugging on his bottom lip and gasping into his open mouth when he thrust faster, shallower, your name a begged breath between the two of you.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wait anymore,” you whimpered, your dress left your fingers so you could grip the back of his head, card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and tug, “To finally have sex with my husband.”

Steve moaned at the word husband, twitching inside of you, which made you grin at the way his hips stuttered, at the way his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“Yeah?” You gripped at the back of his head a little harder, knowing what each other liked now. He frantically pushed under the fallen dress to find your clit again with ease, trying to get the upper hand once more as you asked, “You like me calling you my husband, Steve?”

Your mouth brushed the apple of his cheek, it kissed his temple as he fell forward, thrusting faster and making quick figure eights against your nerves, gasping at your teasing.

“Wanna tell everyone I’m your wife? Tell ‘em I’m a Harrington?” Your stomach clenched at the thought too, at the pace which Steve slammed into you even harder, hips meeting in a filthy grind as your head knocked against the mirror. The thumps mingling with the sound of how you were coating him, all a little louder in the bathroom and only making you both a little more turned on.

His forehead pressed to yours as he nodded, lips of parted mouths catching every time he thrust. He moaned, he begged, “Yeah, yeah. Wanna tell them. Wanna…want…pregnant. Mine.”

Your back arched, hand searching until it found his, lacing your fingers together. His others grew sloppy against your clit, slipping over it as you nodded. Chest aching from his admission, from the way you sort of wanted it too, how it didn’t scare you as much anymore, not when it was him.

“Yeah?”

“Ye-yeah, fuck, honey, I can’t-“ Steve kissed you. Passionate and breath stealing as he held your lips to his like he’d wanted to all day. Your clasped hands hit the counter, the click of your rings together made you whine into his lips when they parted. You let him go, his name loud in the bathroom, echoing against tile and sure to be heard even on the moon as his hips stuttered when you clenched around him. Your stomach burned and your eyes blinked rapidly, sure you weren’t on the planet anymore from the amount of stars you could see as his warmth spilled into you.

It takes a second for you both to come back down to earth, for Steve to laugh, for you to press your hands to your cheeks as you looked down at the mess you’d made of yourselves.

Steve kissed at sweat kissed skin, tenderly cleaning you up as you joked with each other, sleepy eyelids and content smiles. Slow kisses that left you both sighing in between lingering touches that weren’t out of necessity, but just because you wanted to be touching.

Completely in love.

He helped you off of the counter and winced at the way your dress fell down all crinkled and obviously mussed. You shrugged before running a hand though his hair, messing it up even more than you already had, then you untied his tie and let it hang from around his neck saying something about it only being fair.

He grabbed your hand, fingers curled into yours as he kissed your knuckles and led you out of the bathroom.

Robin was the first to slow clap.

Your nose pressed to his shoulder, a groaned god dammit on your lips against his suit jacket.

Then Rocketman was blasted on the speakers, a loud “Annnnnnnd Buckley owes me one hundred dollars!” comes from Eddie at the bar, earning a smack to his chest from his girlfriend, which was nice, until she said “I get fifty of that and you know it.”

And it’s all fine, Steve doesn’t really care, because most of the guests are gone and you’re laughing and heading over to grab pie, flicking Eddie’s ear as you went.

Robin slid up next to Steve, shaking her head. “Wow. I really had faith in you Harrington. A bathroom? On your wedding night? I know you two are animals, but you couldn’t wait to have your wife in, oh, I don’t know, a private bedroom?”

Steve only smiled at the way Nancy handed you a water as you caught peach filling from your lip, while you played with the little ‘S’ dangling between your collarbones with your left hand, the large blue sapphire stone sparkling next to glittering diamonds in the light.

His wife.

For those of you who don't know, Leather and Lace was an Eddie series I started when I first started writing for the fandom. I only posted two chapters, and I just fell out of writing it. It was something I was holding close to me, and I wanted to really tell it right. I've been poking at it a lot lately, and the story has changed so much, and I'd love to share it again soon. But for now, have a little blurb from it tomorrow, and I'd really love to hear what you think. This Eddie is a childhood best friend, an enemy, a stranger, and hopefully, one day, a lover. Okay, anyways, happy voting!

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/3

#superbly subpar's writing #trick or treat freaks 💛#steve harrington #modern!steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #a we'll call it love blurb #we'll call it love

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cameronspecial · 8 months ago

Text

The Speed Of Light

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: All Y/N wants is to be in Rafe's arms and he is prepared to do that no matter what it takes.

A/N: Inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Distance from Rafe isn’t something Y/N often struggles with. Sure, she likes to cuddle with him and be in physical contact with him, but she doesn’t need to do it every second of the day. She likes to have her alone time and Rafe respects that need. However, something in her today just craved to be in his hold and unlucky for her, this wasn’t his day off. In fact, he is supposed to stay late to help his dad with paperwork. She knows she shouldn’t ask him to come home, yet all she wants is to be in his arms right now. She takes her phone out and sends him a text: Are you coming home soon? His reply is just as quick. No, Bunny. I’ll probably be home past dinner time, so you can eat without me.

Oh…

Why oh? Is everything okay?

Everything is fine. I just miss you. That’s all. She quickly follows the text with I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll let you get back to work.

Rafe is already standing at his desk and heading to his dad’s office before she can send the second text. “I know I said I would work late tonight, but Y/N needs me. I’ll finish it tomorrow morning,” he informs his dad, not asking for permission because he doesn’t care if he has it. Ward looks up from the report he is looking at, “Okay, that’s fine. Say hello to Y/N for me.” Rafe nods, going to his car without thought. I’m on my way, Bunny. She can’t hide her massive grin once she sees the message. It’s been around thirty minutes and Rafe isn’t home yet, which is strange because it should only take ten minutes to get here from his workplace. She grows worried that something happened to him, so she calls him. “Hi, Bunny,” he greets through the speakerphone. She sighs in relief, “I thought something bad happened to you. Why aren’t you home yet?” “You are very clingy today aren’t you, Bunny?” he playfully teases. “I’m sorry I scared you and I’m not home yet, but they closed a bunch of roads and there was an accident. Apparently, the Outer Banks can get pretty bad traffic.”

“Well, can’t you use your boyfriend or Cameron's powers to get you through?” she pleads, kneading at the pillow. He chuckles, “I don’t think they can do anything about the traffic, Bunny. I’m sorry. I will be there at the speed of light though, I promise. Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll take you out to dinner.” “Hmm, I don’t want to go out for dinner. Can you pick up something at the Wreck instead? I want to cuddle,” she explains. He shakes his head with a smile, “Okay, I can do that. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” “Thank you. I love you. See you soon,” she states. His heart swells, “I love you too. Bye.” He hands up the phone.

———

Ten minutes later, which is way faster than Y/N thought he would be coming, she hears his truck in the driveway. She flings the door open to see him with his arms held open to her. She runs into his arms, giving him a tight squeeze. He presses his kiss to her temple. She takes in the scent of his colognes, “How did you get home so fast?” “I told you I would be home at the speed of light,” he recounts. “Plus, I guess my Cameron powers were better than I thought because I was able sweet talk Shoupe to open up another road and Mike owed me a favour so he got our food out real fast.” She looks up at him with big eyes, “You did all of that for me?” “Of course. I would do anything for you, Bunny. Now, come on. Let’s eat,” he says with his lips against her forehead. He takes her inside and flops on the couch, throwing his arm over the back of the couch so she can settle in beside him. That night is spent cuddled up on the sofa, eating and watching TV.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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trippinsorrows · 4 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + seven

authors notes: so this one leaves probably more questions than answers, but there's also a lot of things sprinkled throughout, and all questions will be answered....eventually.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, language, discussion of parental loss, brief (two line) flashback of aftermatch following csa, suggestive themes, ptsd trigger

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 8k

Solana: Are you busy today?

Normally, Roman would keep his phone face down during business meetings but with increasing communication with Solana, he’s leaned more on the side of having it face up so he’s aware when notifications come through.

It’s not a priority. Just a…..preference.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly shoots her back a text.

Roman: What do you need?

Before he can put his phone back down, those three dots appear. He keeps the thread open for her reply to slide in.

Solana: Nvm. I’m sorry to bother you.

Roman curses inwardly, barely keeping it to himself and not making the room of men aware of his frustrations. He can acknowledge Solana has slightly improved with her over–apologizing over the past couple weeks, but it’s moments like this that get him upset all over again.

He fucking hates repeating himself.

But….

There’s that small, annoying ass, nagging voice in the back of his head that reminds him of why she’s always so apologetic, why she thinks her damn existence itself is an inconvenience. And he can’t really fault her, blame her for years of trauma fucking with her mental.

Roman: You’re apologizing again. How many times I gotta tell you to stop that shit?

It could probably, definitely, be worded better. Maybe even a bit…kinder. But Roman is a lot of things.

Kind is not one of them.

He then adds, knowing she’ll probably try to find another excuse to not be honest with him.

Roman: What do you need? The truth, Solana.

There’s an appearance and disappearance of those dots at least three or four times. He can picture her biting down on her bottom lip as she tries to word what probably is a simple request as best she can.

The amount of overthinking she does has to be fucking exhausting.

Solana: I was just gonna see if you could meet me at the library. I wanted to show you something.

Solana: But, it’s not a big deal! Please forget I said anything.

A couple of things strike Roman strange, two in particular. The first being that as soon as she says what she needs, the answer is an automatic yes. Like, it’s not even something he really thinks too much about, but he also chalks it up to a level of genuine curiosity. This might be the first time she’s actually directly asked him for something.

It must be important. Important enough for her to ask him to come see whatever it is, at least.

It’s why he doesn’t even comment on her second, follow up text.

Roman: What time you get off?

He can make whatever work.

Solana: It’s okay. Really.

This damn girl….

Roman’s jaw clench as he types out a text that matches his mood.

Roman: Solana….

She’s giving him a damn migraine. He’s not sure why he doesn’t just ignore her at this point. If it’s that fucking important, she wouldn’t be giving him such a hard time.

But then the stupid nagging voice returns, reminding him that her even asking in the first place is a huge deal that shouldn’t necessarily be shot down because of lingering struggles that are probably going to be around for a while.

Solana literally has years of baggage and trauma she needs to heal from.

And that shit doesn’t happen overnight.

Solana: 3pm

Roman blows out a breath. Fucking finally.

He lays his phone back down, not necessarily wanting to hear any pushback or counter arguments she might try to supply, fake ass reasons she wants to back away from her assertive request.

Not happening.

Roman: I’ll be there.

“Jey.” Roman’s deep voice cuts through the group who set their eyes on him. “I need you and Jimmy to handle the Barrett meeting for me.” While the twins are annoying as shit majority of the time, they’re effective all of the time. Roman has trusted countless meetings with them, and none have turned out badly. They always get shit handled.

His cousins both echo okayness with this change in plans, as expected. The same way Roman expected his Wise Man to be the one with questions.

“My Tribal Chief, we’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks. What could possibly be more important?”

It’s a fair question, Roman isn’t too stubborn to admit that. But, it’s also not a question that applies. Again, it’s not that Solana is important, per se, it’s just that if his alternative is dealing with Barret’s loquacious business dealings, he’d prefer Solana.

He’s also partially intrigued by the mere fact she’d even had the balls to ask something of him in the first place. It’s promising. Assertiveness has always been more attractive to him than passiveness.

Roman’s answer is both simple and vague. “I have somewhere to be.”

“But—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s childlike smile deepens suddenly, as if he’s been picked to be fucking line leader. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Who’s the Tribal Chief?”

Rikishi is the only one to offer a visible reaction, hiding his chuckle. He knows exactly where this is going, even if his decades old friend does not.

“Y–you are, my Tribal Chief.”

Romans voice is sharp and lethal. “So why the fuck are you asking me to answer to you?”

Paul’s expression pales. “I would never, my—”

“Sound like it to me,” Jimmy’s messy ass chimes in. He looks at Jey. “What you think, Uce?”

“Sound like it to me too.” Jey, as expected, agrees. Only for him to nearly fall back in his seat when he jumps up so both feet are on the expensive ass leather. Roman is annoyed all over again for a new reason. “Ayo, Uce, ya’ll got a rat problem!”

At that, Jimmy is twinning with his brother in more than just appearance, also with his feet off the floor and onto the leather chair. Roman hopes they both fall over and break their goddamn necks. Rikishi can handle Barrett just fine.

“Ain’t you like a goddamn billionaire? How the hell you got Stuart Little and his fam running around your crib!”

Roman’s gaze follows the line of vision the twins are so damn focused on only to be met with Dulce calmly walking past both of them to sit in front of him, looking up with a tilted head.

She’s clearly looking for Solana.

And he knows this because it’s become a bit of a habit. If he’s home and she’s not, Dulce’s nosy ass seems to seek him out as if he’s supposed to magically make her owner appear. It’s not something he’s brought up to Solana, because he knows she would just freak the fuck out and over apologize for Dulce “bothering” him.

And that’s not the case.

It’s a bit annoying, but it’s not a bother.

His staff keep an eye out for her when Solana works, and he’s even seen Solana come back to the house on her lunch breaks to check in Dulce, so he doesn’t mind. She’s keeping up her end of the deal, being the primary caretaker for the puppy.

“That’s Solana’s dog.”

Jimmy’s bewildered gaze is on him. “This a dog?”

“Yes.”

“You let her get a dog? Like a real ass dog?”

“You fucking see her, don’t you?” At that moment, Dulce calmly lays down on the floor next to Roman’s feet which are literally bigger than her small ass. It’s followed up by Paul starting to sneeze.

Jey, who is now sitting back in his chair like a normal human being, points out, “man, you hate dogs.”

Naturally, Roman goes a bit on the defense, shoulders straightening. “I don’t hate them.”

Jimmy makes a sound, also with his feet planted on the ground. “Bruh, you literally use to tell us when we was growing up, ‘I hate dogs.’ That’s why we started calling you Big Dog, cause it was funny to see you get all mad and shit.”

Roman may or may not remember that, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to acknowledge it. Besides, he’s allowed to change his mind. Hate was always probably too strong of a word to use anyway.

There are a lot of things Roman hates, even more people that he hates, but dogs are not on the list.

It was more irritation than anything.

“Whatever.”

“What’s her name?” Rikishi asks, bending over his chair to try to catch Dulce’s attention.

Roman watches the puppy gradually make her way over his cousin, ears dropping as he gently rubs the top of her head. “Dulce.”

“Dul–what?”

This…..this is why Roman is on high blood pressure medication, why Dr. Michaels recommended he start wearing one of those smart watches to monitor his heart rate and other shit. Not that he did it.

“Dulce. It’s Spanish.”

“Aw man, why you ain’t say that in the beginning?” Jimmy turns to Jey. “The dog only speak Spanish.” He looks over at his dad who now has Dulce in his lap, continuing to pet her. Roman rolls his eyes. This dog is a damn attention whore, just like he predicted. “Hola, lil’ chalupa.”

Jey punches his brother on the arm. “Uce, you can’t be saying that kind of shit. It’s racist.”

“No, it’d be racist if I called the dog Taco Bell since her mama half Mexican, but I ain’t do that shit, cause I like Soso.”

“Stop calling her that.”

Jimmy avoids Roman’s warning and proceeds to ask with all of the intrigue. “So not only did you let her bring a dog up in here, but you let ole’ girl pick a rat for said dog?”

Already irritated and on edge, Roman isn’t sure why Jimmy’s question irritates him as much as it does, and not even because it's a question that’s being posed when he’s trying to review a contract. It’s that Jimmy is questioning Solana’s decision in general.

He answers as calmly as he’s capable of responding. Roman also notices that Paul is red as a tomato as he pulls out an Epipen. Roman easily brings his focus back to Jimmy. “It’s what she wanted.”

“Should have got a big dog,” Jey suggests, hovering over by Rikishi as he tries to interact with Dulce whose eyes are fluttering closed. Roman swears this damn dog sleeps 23 out of the 24 hours in the day.

That answer is simple, Roman grabbing a pen to sign off on the contract in front of him. It’s satisfactory enough. “She’s scared of them.”

“What is she not scared of?”

But that comment, for whatever reason, is what makes him snap. “Get out.”

Both the twins are unfazed, but it seems to trigger something for them as Jimmy exclaims, “I forgot!” He looks over at Jey, reminding. “Remember, Soso made some extra food for us.”

“Oh shit, she sho’ did!”

Roman makes a mental note to write Solana about that. It’s not her job to keep feeding his grown ass, married ass cousins.

The two bid their farewell, Jey shouting out as his parting term, “yeet!”

“Stop doing that,” Roman calls after their retreating forms as Paul also excuses himself for some air.

Maybe he really is allergic to dogs.

Rikishi stands up and walks over to him, still holding Dulce but not saying anything. He’s just looking like he wants to say something. Another of Roman’s pet peeves, of the many.

With a mutter and scowl, he asks, “what?”

His cousin simply shrugs, nonchalantly commenting. “The girl is growing on you, Uce.” It’s an assessment, for certain.

However, Roman has zero desire to have this conversation with his older cousin, or anyone, in general. Hence, his vague ass reply of, “she’s tolerable.”

Because that’s the truth. Solana is neither amazing nor insufferable. She’s in a pretty balanced space between the both: tolerable.

Rikishi gives him that sly ass look that makes Roman want to punch him in his fucking face. “E tua le fale tele i le faleo’ o.”

It’s an old Samoan proverb that means “Even the mighty need others.”

Instantly, Roman’s gaze is cutting. “I don’t need anyone.” He never has, and he never will.

Rikishi just offers a knowing smile, lowering Dulce back to the ground and placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Of course not, Uce. Of course not.” The older man says nothing else, just walking out, Dulce returning back to stand by Roman’s feet, head up, staring at him.

He rolls his eyes, murmuring as he gets back to work. “She’ll be home later.”

Dulce barks in response.

________

The minute Roman pulls up to Solana’s job, sees the expression on his cousin’s face, he knows something is up.

Solo may have a dangerously good poker face, but Roman invented that shit.

He got the blueprint from Roman.

Solana is sitting near the front of the building, surrounded by fucking children as she reads some basic ass book that they’re all clearly eating up based upon how they can’t seem to take their eyes off her.

Roman isn’t entirely indifferent, instantly taking note of her outfit, more colorful, less covered. It reeks of Naomi’s influence, but in a good way.

As always, she looks good, better than good.

Not wanting to interrupt, Roman motions for a few of his men to take Solo’s place as he gestures for his younger cousin to follow him.

As soon as they’re outside the building, Roman gets right into it. “You got something to say, so say it.”

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that despite his brutal fighting abilities, the man is always careful and meticulous with his words. Unlike his hot headed older brother, Jey, Solo always thinks before he acts.

It’s why Roman doesn’t think twice about the space between the issuance of his prompt and Solo’s answer.

“You made me your enforcer for a reason, yeah?”

It’s an easy answer. “Yes.”

“You upped me in the ranks to prove myself, right? To earn my way into the inner circle?”

Roman is already bored with the conversation, but considering this is family, he throws a bone. “Yeah.”

“So just how am I supposed to do that when you got me playing babysitter to your new wife?” The turn in topics as well as increase in Solo’s volume does slightly, very slightly, take Roman by surprise. Granted, he does a masterful job, as always, hiding that surprise. “Any lower guy could do this shit. She don’t—”

“Solo.” Roman gives him that tight smile and scratches his beard, typically the last thing people see before they meet their maker. “You answer to me. You do what I say you do, and I say you’re assigned to Solana.”

Roman doesn’t know what’s in the fucking water for people to be testing him the way they are, but it’s really starting to piss him off.

Solo looks down, clearly embarrassed by this talk down but not enough to shut his mouth. “I get that, but—”

“Wasn’t she already hurt once under your watch?” Roman’s voice is razor sharp as he reminds the younger man of his failure. The memory of that fucking bruise on Solana’s wrist from her bitch of a brother returning all of those strong emotions. “I gave you a job, and you didn’t do it. She got hurt while under your protection. It’s because you’re my cousin, you're even still breathing right now. You know better than anyone I don’t accept failure.”

At that, Solo concedes, knowing good and well there is no excuse or justifiable reason. “I understand, my Tribal Chief.”

Roman does his best to chip away some of his anger at this outright disrespect as well as the memories of Solana hurt. He steps past his cousin, calling out over his shoulder. “And Solo, don’t think because you’re family I won’t put a bullet in your head for questioning me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Roman can see Solo still has his head down. “Fail me again, let her get hurt again, and I’ll put your ass six feet under.”

Roman doesn’t allow the conversation to persist beyond that, big steps taking him back to the library just in time to see the children disperse, whipping past him as Solana approaches. The wedges on her feet give her a bit more height, but he still towers over her, which is a usual experience for him.

But, it doesn’t negate the fact that she’s so damn small.

“Hi,” she greets in that familiar unsure voice, eyes darting from him to the ground. “Sorry—I mean—story time ran a bit over.”

He’s appreciative she at least caught the apologizing before he had to call it out. “It’s fine.”

She offers a tight smile and motions for him to follow her, which he does, just as his eyes follow the sway of her ass as she leads the way.

He’s starting to really enjoy seeing her in jeans.

She leads him up the stairs and in the back area he’d visited her before what seems like so long ago, finding that her bastard of a brother had manipulated her into being alone with him. The last fucking time that shit will ever happen.

She pulls a key out her back pocket and unlocks the door, informing, “I have to grab something first.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods. It’s like she feels the need to justify every little thing she does.

Roman watches her walk over to the desk, leaning over as she grabs him something out of her bag, a notebook, the journal he first found her writing in the first time he came to see her at her place of employment.

She’s back by him, closing and locking the door. “Come on.”

Typically, if this was anyone else, Roman would have demanded to know just what the fuck was so important that caused him to have to rearrange his whole schedule. Granted, he can’t take that out on her, nor would he ever, when he’s the one who rearranged his whole schedule for her. She didn't ask him to do that shit.

He did it on his own volition for reasons unknown.

The walk to the next stop doesn’t take long at all, Solana soon sticks her key in another, unfamiliar door, opening and stepping aside but directing him to walk in.

He does as such, naturally and instantly taking in his surroundings once she hits the light switch. It’s a room obviously, a previous storage room he would guess based upon the large filing cabinet lined against the wall to the right of him. There’s also another couple pieces of furniture against that same wall, like a desk and mini bookshelf, but that’s not what immediately catches his attention.

He’s instead more interested by the remaining walls that are essentially lined with larger, white bookshelves, all filled with a combination of notebooks, books, and journals. Completely filled.

Intrigued but also confused, the latter of which is unfamiliar to him, Roman turns to Solana, asking, “what is this?”

Her cheeks redden, but she manages an answer that’s somehow not marked by as much stuttering. “There are all my journals—well,” she stops, giving a nervous laugh. “Most of them. Some are books I’ve read, and….” She walks over to a section that somehow seems different from the others, albeit lined up neatly with the rest of the items. Solana’s hand almost hesitantly feathers over the spines of the journals. At closer look, Roman can see they’re a bit dated and worn than the others. “These were my mother’s.”

Her answer surprises him, but he quickly recalls her sharing that she started writing because of her mother, because they wrote to each other.

She clears her throat and then turns back to him, sharing, “every time I finish a journal, I leave it here.”

Obviously. “Why here?”

“My mom started it. It—it was an arrangement she had with Mrs. Jensen. She worked here, and along with her pay, she arranged so she could keep her writings here and after….” Solana starts to hesitate, and Roman can see it’s because emotion is brewing. Just gently bubbling under the surface. “After she died, I kept up with it.”

Roman recognizes the sensitive nature of the subject and makes a subtle effort to change the topic on her behalf. “You’ve really written in all of these?” It’s impressive. He has to give her that. The thought of writing in general has never appealed to him, so for her to have a room full of journals she’s completed is fucking impressive.

She nods, adding sheepishly, “filled em’ up.” Solana then takes the one in her hand, lifting it a bit. “Finished this one this morning.” He watches her squeeze it into a row that’s probably already being pushed to the limit.

She’s going to run out of space eventually.

She’ll need something bigger, sooner rather than later. Roman compartmentalizes this for a later date and time to navigate.

“You keep em’ here to hide them also, don’t you?”

“They can never know what I’ve written….” She doesn’t need to say who they are. It’s more than obvious. It’d be a sure death wish. “I just—-I know you said you’d write for now and it’s been almost a month, but—but I—I figured if you knew just how important and helpful writing is to me—”

“Solana.” There’s no need for her long ass, drawn out explanation. He understands now why she wanted him to see this space, the goal behind the request. “We’ll write as long as you need it.”

He watches her shoulders drop, a sign of relief. She bites back a smile he wouldn’t be opposed at seeing. She looks even better when she’s smiling. “Thank you.”

He only nods, and Solana finds herself taking him in.

All of him.

In recent weeks, she’s discovered yet another newfound difficulty and source of anxiety for herself. And that new addition would happen to be in the form of the 6’3 man before her.

Roman has always made her nervous, for a variety of good and valid reasons, but recently, the cause of that anxiety has shifted to something else, something a bit on the unfamiliar side for her, or rather something she hasn’t really had to think about since her last disastrous relationship.

Attraction

Solana has come to terms with the fact that she’s attracted to Roman, yes, but also that she hasn’t the slightest clue of what to do about and with that said attraction.

It’s always been there, to a certain extent, but it was more dormant, something she knew was present but voiceless and nameless, almost invisible.

Now, in interacting and engaging with him more, it’s formed more defining characteristics, creating a sense of butterflies in her stomach whenever his smoldering gaze falls on her or when he says something to her, that deep, baritone voice sprouting goosebumps on the back of her neck.

It also doesn’t help that he’s indicated a couple of different times now that he also finds her attractive, or pretty, beautiful even.

That he thinks she looks good.

None of that makes sense to Solana nor can she understand why he would believe any of those things, but she would never make him out to be a liar, so it must be true, to some extent.

And therein lies the dilemma.

One of many that exist in her life.

How she’s supposed to balance attraction with fear, desire with aversion, peace with trauma. It’s all a muddled mess.

“Solana.”

“Sorry.” He only has to sigh one time for her shoulders to sulk, but instead of apologizing, she points out in a small voice. “It’s—it’s a habit.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a fucking habit to break.” His irritation is palpable, and Solana feels even smaller around him, like she’s done something wrong. “It’s not you I’m annoyed with.”

“Oh.” And that genuinely surprises her. In Solana’s experience, she’s always been the source of people’s, especially the men in her life, exasperation. But before she can step out of her comfort zone and ask him what’s wrong, he informs her of something that completely makes her emotions flip and twirl into a puddle of distress.

“Your father called for you today.” And just like that, any sense of relation and ease she’d achieved is dissipated, replaced with growing unrest. “Relax…” It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s tone quickly and almost easily jumps from irritated to almost soothing, like he’s trying to calm his nerves. “I told him to fuck off.”

That doesn’t make her feel any better. “He doesn’t like being told no.”

“And you think I give a fuck?” His deep voice is full of indifference and edge, but this time around, Solana knows it’s not directed towards her. He then asks, “do you want to talk to him?”

It takes her off guard. “What?”

Roman repeats himself with a surprising lack of irritation. “Do you want to talk to him?”

Solana can’t remember the last time she was asked such a question. Been given a choice. Then again, it’s happened quite a few times since her marriage to Roman, starting with Bayley asking her something as simple as how she wants her makeup done.

She doesn’t know what to make of that. Just another thing added to that mounting list of confusing and conflicting thoughts and feelings.

“If you want to, I’ll allow it.” He quickly adds the caveat. “But not without me present.”

Prior to the past couple weeks, Solana would suspect Roman’s stipulation stems from a place of possessiveness. But now….now it feels like it comes from someplace else, something so unfamiliar and foreign.

Protectiveness.

It feels like he’s being protective of her.

His proclamation from earlier returns to the forefront of her mind.

“I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you.”

He’d also included a list of people he wouldn’t allow to do as such, including her dad and brother, which is why he clearly would only let Solana speak to her father if he’s around.

It’s just the why that has her stumped.

But, back to the question being posed, the easiest and most simple answer is no. She’d rather not be around someone who’s only ever left her hurt, emotionally and/or physically. Or allocated that task to her brother.

Not to mention the fact that the only reason he probably wants to talk to her is to discuss this nefarious plot she still refuses to allow herself to think about because it’s so inconceivable.

“Not really,” she answers after what feels like forever, “but…”

Roman picks up on her hesitation. “But?”

“Like I said, my–my father doesn’t like being denied.” And before he can protest or again reiterate his outright indifference to her father’s feelings, Solana adds in a quiet voice, “and I usually end up being the one to pay for it.”

Roman steps towards her, and before she can process what’s happening, his finger is under her chin, tugging so that her head is lifted, eyes locked with his.

His voice lowers, quietly asking, “you still don’t believe me when I say I won’t let anyone hurt you, huh?” It’s rhetorical, sure, but Solana is too focused on the fact that this man is touching her. It’s as innocent as innocent comes, but it’s still touch, something she usually hides away from like the plague. However, outside of the initial shock and borderline discomfort, Solana doesn’t jump away, doesn’t feel the need to put as much distance between them. She’s almost….almost comfortable.

“I’m going to kill them both, eventually. Fucking with them in the meanwhile only makes the outcome that much more worthwhile. But…” And the surprises keep coming, especially as he makes her aware of his intentions. “One word. All I need is one fucking word from you. That you want them gone, and it’s done. No questions asked.”

Power.

Solana wonders if this is what power feels like, the ability to say one single word and have a life be ended. How she feels about those lives belonging to her brother and father remains to be seen, but even being given such an option, such an almost promise, it’s an indescribable experience.

Roman’s brown eyes, light and contrasting everything about him that is sharp and hard, study her. “You understand me?”

Naturally, she nods against his index finger that’s under her chin, demanding maintained eye contact.

“I need words.” It’s a reminder from the infamous wedding night, something that seems so far in the rearview mirror now.

“Y–yes.”

He seems pleased by this acknowledgment, enough to pull his hand away from her, Solana trying not to make too much of the strange sensation that floats in her stomach at the absence of his touch.

Roman suddenly offers. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll up your security detail.” Before she can protest and probably apologize if she’d unintentionally indicated it wasn’t already enough, he asks, “you get off at 3 every day?”

“Essentially, y–yes.”

“I’ll start meeting you.”

The surprises just keep on coming.

Instantly, she feels bad, shaking her head. “You don’t have to—”

“Solana.” This man must get tired of having to say her name, she’s certain of that. “I’ll meet you.” He says the same thing, but this time, she knows not to push back because it’s a done thing. “Just make sure I have your updated work schedule.”

“Wh—what about Solo?”

“He’ll still be assigned to you for any other outings.” This makes her feel a little better, that he’s not entirely rearranging and inconveniencing himself for her. “You ready to go?”

Yes. No. Maybe. There’s so many different questions she has with only a select number of answers, but in this moment, she goes with the one that feels most right.

Especially with Roman reaching for her hand.

Nodding, she swallows and accepts his gesture, noticing how his large hand closes over hers, almost protectively.

“Yes.”

________

“That for me?” Solana looks up from the notebook she’s almost certain she’ll have filled and completed by the end of the month. Roman’s presence and question both catch her off-guard. She didn’t really expect to speak to him again today, especially after he already spent time with her earlier that day. She figured he’d had his maximum daily dosage.

Especially after she’d already prepared and fixed dinner for him, the two of them falling into their now routine of him eating in his office, her in the living room before she makes her way out back to the patio where she either writes or, now, plays with Dulce.

Solana shakes her head, answering softly as Roman sits on the chair opposite her. “no. It’s…”

“About your mom?”

With him now aware of the nature of some of her writing, she answers, “yeah.” Roman’s question triggers something she’s certain she intentionally never commented on because it was such a shock to her system that she really didn’t know how to respond. “When….when you said it wasn’t my fault….did—did you mean that?”

If she expected there to be delayed response or even confusion on his end, she was entirely wrong because he answers almost on the spot. “Yes. I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She’s starting to believe that.

Wetting her lips, she informs in that same small voice, “no one’s ever said that to me before.”

Xavier’s unshaven face and dark, judgmental gaze is focused on her, Solana doing her best to ignore the pain that wrecks her body, the beeping of the machines and IV’s in both her arms. The throbbing between her legs is equally scary as it is confusing. What did they do to her, and why did it hurt so much?

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, dropping and stomping it on the floor, gruff voice asking, “why didn’t you fight back?” He shakes his head, spitting at the same spot that’s littered with remnants of one of many poor habits. “You’re weak just like your mother.”

Roman’s firm voice snatches her away from spiraling too deeply in dark memories of an even darker past. She does her best to shake away any sign she was about to dissociate when he surprises her for what feels like the 10th time today, almost quietly sharing, “My mother was killed when I was ten years old.” There’s a synchronous dropping of her mouth and stomach at the exact same time. “You think that shit was my fault?”

The answer is obvious and immediate. “No. Of–of course not. You were—you were just a kid.”

While her response is borderline automatic, coming from a place of pure logic, everything else is so confusing. Roman’s mother is….dead? Not even dead but murdered when he was a child?

Just like hers.

Solana doesn’t know how to process this. It’s not until this very moment that she realizes not once has she ever considered or thought about his immediate family, like parents and even siblings. At the wedding, so many people were present, obvious family members of his, but she’s just now realizing she never considered who was who. Were they all cousins, aunts, in-laws even?

Where is the rest of his immediate family? Better yet, who makes up his immediate family? She’s aware of the twins and even his older cousin Rikishi, but is there not more?

“So were you.” She can’t tell if Roman intentionally works to redirect the focus back onto herself or if he’s unaware of the fact she’s suddenly wondering just how much about the man across from her she still knows nothing about it. “So why is it different for you?”

It’s an effective diversion and valid question that she’s never once asked herself.

“No one’s ever said that either.” Her voice is only a couple octaves above a whisper, and Solana finds herself sharing more than she’s probably ever divulged to anyone. “When I….when I’m writing, a lot of the times, I’m writing letters to my mom.” Having this conversation with anyone, let alone Roman, of all people, wasn’t on her life agenda. But, it seems like a lot of ‘nevers’ are gradually morphing into ‘actualities.’

It’s such a strange experience, too.

“Like I said, we used to write to each other, and after….after she was killed, I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I think at the beginning, I kept doing it because….because I didn’t want to accept she was gone.” The understanding and underlying emotion shifts to the surface, resulting in her quickly wiping at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Like I was waiting for her to write me back.” It’s not missed upon Solana how Dulce suddenly moves closer, tucking her body right up against Solana’s thigh. “And I’ve kept at it over the years, cause—she was the only person I could ever talk to.”

Roman repeats the same message he wrote to her, almost reminding her of a lifeline she’s gradually starting to realize is available for the first time in almost twenty years. “You can talk to me, Solana.”

And she is. She doesn’t know how and especially why, but she is, and as heavy as the topic is, there’s a hint of relief at finally having another living, breathing person to speak to and with about these things.

Especially…..especially someone who can maybe relate to her. “How did you do it—how did you….move past it?”

It’s not the best wording, she’s certain of that. Losing a parent. Having a parent be murdered isn’t something one gets over.

Solana knows this better than most, but Roman….he’s so composed, so together, so unbroken.

So unlike her.

His expression darkens as he answers in an eerie but calm voice. “I got my revenge, and I killed every single son of a bitch who played a role.” His delivery unsettles her a bit, but he seems to easily shift back into that almost patient tone she’s only ever heard him use….with her. “But, I’m not like you, Solana. You're innocent. My ledger bleeds red.” Solana doesn’t know what it looks or even sounds like for Roman to be uncomfortable, but his delivery in the next part definitely feels as such. “I don’t….feel things like you do. You feel everything. I feel nothing.”

She whispers. “I wish I was like that, that I didn’t feel.” Because it’s true. Because it’s how she initially started to self harm, because she wanted to feel something other than emotional pain. Even physical pain was better than the anguish that racked her every day, 24/7.

He’s quick to shut that down, to tell her the complete opposite. “No, you don’t. That would mean you’ve lost that innocence you have.”

That actually makes Solana smile, chuckle, but there’s not an ounce of humor as she shakes her head. “I–I lost my innocence a long time ago.” Stolen. It was stolen from her a long time ago is the more appropriate way to word it. Stomach a complete freaking mess, she does her best to power through her anxiety at what she’s about to tell him. “Roman…..I—”

“Ayo, Uce—”

“What!” Roman snaps, Solana jumping back away from him, hypervigilance back on high and alert. He briefly casts his gaze back in her direction, and she can almost swear she sees a speck of guilt. Like he’s apologetic for scaring her.

Jimmy, however, is unfazed by his cousin’s temper. He’s lived with it his whole life. Ain’t nothing new. “Rhodes men were on Bloodline territory—”

“What?” At that, Roman’s head snaps back in Jimmy’s direction. And Solana watches as any sign of Roman, patient and almost kind, is replaced almost instantly with that same cold, stoic demeanor that could strike fear in the heart of even the strongest man.

He stands up, hands on his hips as he moves a bit away from her. Solana also stands, fighting her urge to move closer to him.

Jimmy also presents with a seriousness she’s never seen in him, never even really knew he was capable of, to be honest. “We got three guys down. Another two critically injured.”

Roman curses, turning away, back toward Jimmy and her. He then asks, “you got a location on em’ yet?”

“Pearce should have it any minute now.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Roman nods, stepping away from Solana and in the direction of Jimmy just as Dulce walks over, clearly wanting Solana to pick her up. She must also pick up on the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Dulce in her arms, Solana finds herself calling for Roman. “What—”

“Not now.” His dismissal is sharp and sudden. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings, because it’s obvious he’s in an entirely different zone now, but it does.

Solana sinks back into her shell of silence as Solo steps forward. “You want me—”

“Stay with Solana. She doesn't step foot outside this fucking house, you understand me?” Roman’s orders are indisputable, an almost sense of urgency in his tone. “Heighten security around the premises.”

Solana has so many questions. Just what is going on? Why is Roman so on edge all of a sudden? Who is Rhodes and why do they present such an imminent threat where Roman marches out the house, Jimmy on his heels without even a second glance at her.

It’s all so confusing.

“You need to get inside.” Solo’s equally stoic reminder, command maybe, pulls her from her thoughts. And Dulce suddenly growling at Solo definitely redirects her focus.

“Shhh. It’s just Solo,” she comforts, petting and trying to calm the puppy who quickly upgrades her growling to barking. This also confuses the mess out of Solana.

She’s not sure she’s ever seen Dulce both growl and bark at someone.

Wordlessly, she walks in the house, past Solo who she notices makes sure to lock the door behind them.

“Stay in your room," he instructs, and while she has more questions than anything, his austere tone is more than enough for her to not push back.

Dulce will just have to use the crate if she has to use the bathroom.

Without another word, Solo carries Dulce up the stairs and into her room where she lays the puppy in her bed and Solana climbs onto her.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she grabs her phone and opens up the latest group text thread she was messaging in.

Solana: Can I ask you guys something?

Their replies come in not even five minutes later.

Bayley: Of course!

Naomi: Anything.

Without allowing herself too much time to overthink it, Solana sends out the simple question.

Solana: Who or what is Rhodes?

Solana: Roman just rushed out of here after Jimmy said something about Rhodes men being on Bloodline territory. I’m not allowed to leave the mansion.

Just like the start of the conversation, the replies come in almost instantaneously.

Naomi: Fuck.

Naomi: Yes, stay put. Solo’s there with you, right?

Solana: Yes.

Solana’s anxiety is only growing. Naomi sounds just as intense as Jimmy and Roman were.

Her follow up text doesn’t do anything to help the confusion either.

Naomi: The less you know, the better. The guys will handle it.

Handle what, though? That’s what Solana really wants to know. What is the story here, and why did this Rhodes person or group have Roman so wired.

Just then, another notification comes through. From Bayley, but in their individual thread and not the group chat.

Solana switches over, reading her messages as they arrive almost back to back.

Bayley: Rhodes is a person, but…that’s a complicated story.

Bayley: And I'd feel bad telling someone else’s story, but what I can tell you is that Rhodes is Cody Rhodes, head to the Nightmare Factory, the Bloodline’s biggest opp. Tensions have been at an all time high for like two generations with countless bodies dropped on both sides. It’s always a bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity.

Solana is regretting even asking anything in the first place. Bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity, the same vicinity Roman is heading for as she types. Her shoulders drop, anxiety starting to shift to a new target.

Concern for his safety.

Bayley: If you’re somehow ever in a situation where someone from the Nightmare territory is around, get the hell out of dodge. They won’t hesitate to kill you, especially with you being Roman’s wife.

Bayley: Or Rollins. Seth Rollins. Especially him. Guy is fuckin’ psycho.

Solana: Rollins?

Bayley: Roman, Seth, and Cody used to be friends a long time ago, like way long ago, and it just….it went bad. Really really fucking bad, and Cody and Roman have hated each other since. Like, I don’t know if hate is even a strong enough word for how much they can’t stand each other.

Solana: But why?

Bayley never replies.

________

Roman doesn’t step back into the house until almost 4am. He feels every bit exhausted as he probably looks, more physical than anything, some mental, maybe more than he’d like to admit.

Dealing with anything Nightmare related typically has that impact on him.

Solo meets him at the door, looking as on alert as he did when Roman first saw him at the ass crack of dawn this morning.

The first thing to leave Roman’s mouth isn’t intentional as much as it is unintentional. “How was she?”

Solo motions to the marble flooring leading to the spacious living room. “She’s waiting for you.”

Roman wasn’t expecting to hear that, and he’s certain it shows in his facial expression. “What? Why? Why is she still up?”

Solo shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her. She don’t talk to me.” Which is more Solo’s preference anyway. It’s his job to protect her, not be her fucking friend. “Everything good?” Roman nods but doesn’t say anything, still stuck on the fact that Solana is still up. “Imma head out.”

Roman’s response is as distant as his expression. He doesn’t care whether Solo stays or leaves. “Alright.”

Once his enforcer is out the house, Roman sure enough finds Solana sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, notebook in her lap as she writes away.

“Solana.”

She gasps, clearly taken by surprise, but when her head lifts and her eyes land on him, she untangles her legs and moves the journal to the side. Solana walks over to him, keeping a distance that makes sense for her. “You’re back….”

“What are you still doing up? Don’t you have work in a couple hours?”

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head, adding sheepishly, “I–I don’t sleep much anyway.” He knows this well. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her eyes widen as she hones in on the nasty looking cut near the middle of his hairline. “You’re hurt….”

It’s really not until she says anything that Roman remembers the only “injury” he received from tonight’s bloodbath. “It’s fine.” He then redirects the focus to the main topic at hand. “Solana, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

She ignores him, actually ignores him and instead reaches up to feel the cut that’s maybe a bit more deeper than he realized because her feather light touch brings a bit of a sting.

“You need stitches.” It doesn’t sound like a suggestion, and he realizes as such following her next surprising action. She takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down on the stool as she pulls out the medical kit from under the sink.

Similar to the night of WarGames, she moves in between his open legs and starts tending to his cut, meticulously and carefully stitching him up.

She says not a word, and neither does he. Truthfully, it’s more an unconscious thing than conscious, like neither knows what or if to say something. Especially considering both are currently feeling more than what they know how to properly verbalize, or verbalize at all, really.

“There….” Roman can tell when she’s done. She gently runs her fingers over her diligent work, her eyes focused on the source of her apparent concern when all he wants is for her to look at him, for her eyes to lock on him. “I think I’m—” And just as Solana goes to move away, to step back and clean up, she’s stopped.

She’s stopped, because Roman reaches for her, keeping her near him.

His hand is initially on the small of her back, and Solana has the same experience from earlier. That initial tense feeling that quickly mellows into something almost calm, almost secure.

She’s not sure she’s ever been this close to him, not since the last time she tended to his injuries, not since their wedding day, since their wedding night.

But unlike that last almost traumatic time, she’s not pummeled with anxiety, not paralyzed with fear.

It’s just the calm.

His eyes never leave her, bouncing back and forth between her eyes and lips. He then says in a low voice that’s unlike anything she’s heard from him before. “Solana….”

There’s something different about the way he says her name, something more sincere, something almost….vulnerable.

Roman suddenly has both hands on her hips, holding her, just as her nervous hand moves to lay her palm against his chest.

His eyes instantly shut at her touch. Interactions with anything regarding Rhodes have always done something to Roman emotionally, but it’s always been something he can manage relatively well. Something simple and easy. There’s nothing simple and easy about whatever the fuck is coursing through him at having her so close to him, having her touch, soft and unsure as the expression in her eyes.

She doesn’t know what to make of his eyes closing nor does she have time to consider what to make of that because an image, a flashback of a different kind of touch, a much more painful, visceral touch shoots to the forefront of her mind.

And her chest starts tightening, that fear drawing back up.

“I–I can’t.” Because as much as some part of her, albeit big or small, likes this, likes being close to him, feels safe being this close to thim, another part, much larger and much stronger, can't handle being this close to him. “I’m sorry.” Eyes watering, she breaks away, Dulce is quickly behind her, Solana reaching to hold the puppy as she dashes up the stairs.

Roman sits unsure, confused, angry. He stands up, pacing across the floor, hands up and on the side of his head before his fist slams against the refrigerator door. He curses, but not from the blow. That shit doesn’t hurt.

His reaction and frustration is directed solely toward the fact that he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling right now.

The same thing Solana is struggling with as she sits on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, silently crying into her thighs.

Both of them wondering the same exact thing:

What the hell just happened?

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!poc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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satzumosupremacy · 1 year ago

Text

Elite Bodyguard Series:

Pt.5

Give And Take

Male reader x Yuna 2.3k Words

Tags: Smut, Virgin Yuna

“I told you to drop the honorifics last time, Yuna.”

The elevator dings and both of you come out.

“No, sir,” Yuna said laughing.

The day only started, and Yuna was going to be an exhausting client since her manager left early. Never in your life have you imagined working another part-time job as her manager for a day. But it was straightforward work.

“Okay, Miss. Where are we going?”

If Yuna wanted to joke around—no matter how much you’ve seen her in the building many times—you'd play along with her games. You’ve seen how she is on camera, unusually being somewhat sexual in a way. But you never had a thought of taking off her clothes or even hooking up with Yuna.

“The thrift store in Gangnam,” Yuna replied as she gives you the address. You drive to the thrift store and get inside with Yuna. She checks out the bright clothes as you follow behind her. She takes a shirt and puts it in front of her to get your opinion. “How do I look?"

“Beautiful.”

“Be honest, Sir.”

“Beautiful, Yuna.” You said it again, repeating and being straightforward.

She holds onto the shirt; you gently take it from her to hold so she can shop freely. You follow and look at Yuna shop for another hour before getting tired. She goes into the fitting room, and you sit down to relax after her shopping spree. “How do I look, sir?" Yuna came out of the fitting room.

“You’re beautiful, Yuna.” She smiles and goes back to change into a different outfit. She comes out again, and you compliment her until all her clothes are shown to you, repeating all her other outfits. It was already exhausting enough to get you tired. Meanwhile, Yuna was full of energy.

“You’re tired; let’s go to the checkout.” Yuna grabs your hands, and you get up, walking behind her. The worker scans all the clothes and puts them in a bag. You carry the bags out of respect for her. “Can I be with you for today, sir?”

“What do you mean?” You said as she walks alongside you to the car and get inside.

“I don’t want to go back to the dorm.”

“So you rather go home with me?”

“I can ask Yeji and her manager to get me later if that’s okay, sir.”

“I don’t mind sending you but I guess.”

During the drive home, she became very touchy about your car until she reached for your thighs.

“Yuna, careful where you put your hands.”

“May I ask for something?” And there’s a slight pause that Yuna was hesitant about: “Oppa, I know what’s been happening with you and Twice. Maybe you could give me something and take something from me; give and take?”

“I’m sorry, Yuna. I can’t.”

She heard you and looked out the window. Upon getting to your house, Yuna is surprised to see a house like yours. Although you call it a house, it’s a villa on paper. You open the gate and get into the garage as she sees your Porsche. “Wow, you’re rich."

“You probably earn more than me, Yuna.”

“I don’t even have a license or a house,” she pouts.

“You’ll get there, Yuna.”

You both get out the car and she follows you inside. “Wow, the interior design is amazing,” Yuna complimented.

“Thanks.” You put your keys on the hanger and walk her to the living room. “You can explore the house. I’ll rest for a bit on the couch; wake me up if you need anything."

Yuna nods and explores your house. You close your eyes, quickly falling asleep right after a tiring day. Yuna comes back after some time. She slowly undresses you and makes you feel her presence with your closed eyes. “Yuna, why are you doing this?"

“I want to see what Jihyo and them are having.”

“Yuna.” You get up and grab her hands. She becomes surprised at your aggression. But maybe it was what Yuna wanted.

“Oppa…” She said hesitantly with a whiny tone.

“So you’re calling me Oppa when it doesn’t go your way?”

“You don’t want to fuck? Am I not pretty enough?”

“You’re pretty, but….”

And she cuts you off, “Oppa. Please, just once.” Yuna is already rubbing your bulge to turn you on. “Take my virginity. You won’t regret it.”

As Yuna looks at you with puppy eyes, she stands up and strips naked just for you to see her figure. “Yuna….”

“Can’t take your eyes off my hips, can’t you?"

You gulped, hating the fact that she was seducing you straightforwardly. Yuna’s body was worth the stare; even her hourglass figure got you turned on. The room became silent for a split second as she smirked at you for checking her out. However, Yuna turns around, knowing you’re not going to take your eyes off. And you didn’t.

“Touch me if you want, Oppa." Yuna comes closer to you and her midriff was right in your face, just waiting for you to put your lips on it.

“Just for today, Yuna. Just for today.”

“That’s all I came here for; maybe next time if I ever need you again? I’m not sharing you with Itzy, though.”

You look up at Yuna, "I'm not sure about next time, but that’s greedy of you, Yuna."

“You’re hot, Oppa. Just looking at your muscular arms, turn me on.” It sounded like she wanted to see more, and you took off your shirt just for her to be left speechless. Yuna couldn’t say anything but hesitantly reached for your chest for a feel. Her gulps could tell you how much she’s hungry.

You glanced back at Yuna, her face all glowing red, to see a man naked in front of her. However, Yuna couldn’t stop gulping. “You’ve never seen a body like this or what?”

Like you expected an answer from her as she felt every bump and muscle. Yuna couldn’t keep her eyes off your body. You grabbed her arm, which startled her. “Yuna, you’re so hungry. Is this why you’re always like this on camera?"

The slight aggression you showed was only a testimony to see if she wanted to fuck.

“Can you please give it to me? I want to know how it feels.”

“You want me to lead you, Yuna? You should have a good first time.”

“That’s considerate of you, Oppa,” she nodded, and you got up to guide her down on the couch.

“It’s going to hurt a bit. But you’ll get used to it,” you assured her. Yuna stares at you with a tense look, happy at the same time that you’re the one she wanted. You slowly insert your cock into Yuna the slowest way possible to not hurt her. No lubricant was needed; she was already wet from how much she was turned on. Her moans got more erotic the more you’re deeper inside. You trace her body, feeling the curves of her hips. “Tell me if you need me to stop, Yuna.”

“No. It feels so..” And her mouth opens slowly with each thrust you give her. You kiss her neck to her soft lips. It’s the new sensations that Yuna was experiencing—a cock right inside her.

“Fuck, Yuna. You’re fucking tight.”

She couldn’t respond but grip the side of your shoulders with her forehead against your collarbone. Yuna’s breath becomes heavy, and her moans get even louder, squealing hesitantly. She starts messily kissing you, tumbling and losing grip as she gets penetrated.

You pick up the pace slowly, and she’s taking it with a clenched teeth while you watch her body language cautiously. Yuna closes her eyes, only holding your shoulders with a tightened grip.

Of course, someone would be very lucky to even see her naked, but that very someone was you that Yuna was praying for, and you’re taking her virginity. Her walls are tight; it’s her first time. But it was problematic to you that your cock throbs with each stroke.

You guide her to the side as she follows everything you do, handing you her trust.

“Don’t spread your legs, Yuna.” It was a bad call from you, as her walls were tighter without her legs being spread. You were confident that you wouldn’t cum early.

Her body was at a ninety-degree angle, and she couldn’t stare at you for even a second. Yuna’s in paradise—a feeling that she never had until today. Only her moans went from cute to more seductive, then erotic, as she whimpered with heavy breaths. You’re also checking up on her; there's no way you would hurt an inexperienced woman. And you fall closer to her with both your hands to the side, thrusting deeper yet slow enough for her comfort.

It remains quiet, apart from your soft groans and her moans. Yuna starts to hug your back, just grabbing anything she can while squirming. You glide your hands down to her clit with a grin and rubbed in circles slowly. No doubt, her moans did get more erotic while her body got tense.

“How do you feel, Yuna?” You said, grunting quietly right after.

Yet, you don’t expect an answer from her at all, although you weren’t rough on Yuna. If she was more experienced, you wouldn’t go easy on her. You grab onto her tits and slowly massage them for your pleasure.

“Oppa,” Yuna moaned. “I think I’m going to…"

It was too late for her to tell you, and Yuna screams as she starts cumming and squirming while holding your arms tight. Her pussy hugs onto your cock tighter as you could only thrust.

Not only was this her first sex experience, it was your first time taking someone of an idol’s virginity—to your knowledge, and you’re glad to take Yuna’s—without a doubt.

“Yuna,” you said in a worried tone. And to your surprise, your cock was pulsating, cumming right inside of Yuna. She felt how warm and how much you came inside her.

To her surprise and yours, talking about where to finish wasn’t brought up, but she didn’t mind where, as you look at her.

“Oppa….thanks.”

“Don’t run your mouth to your members now. Otherwise, I will have them here without you knowing also,” you threatened Yuna playfully.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut, Oppa.”

“If you are, there is something you still need to finish, and keep shut for several minutes.” You pull out of Yuna. "Show me how you can use your mouth."

“Don’t judge me.” Yuna gets on her knees in front of you.

“Just for practice, Yuna. It would help someday.”

“Apart from being a bodyguard, you’re pretty kind. But you’re much colder when working.” Yuna starts to kiss your cock and looks at you to see if your pleased enough.

“Yuna, I’m not judging you. Be confident.”

She doesn’t answer and wraps her mouth around your cock, bobbing slowly while choking halfway. The assurance you gave Yuna only gave her more confidence; she bobbed her head faster and slower when she needed to breathe.

Although it’s her first time, it wasn’t that bad—rather surprised that Yuna kept on sucking you off with no more guidance. You grunt softly, just holding her hair in a ponytail. The slight chokes she made going deeper turned you on.

Not like you wanted to fuck Yuna from the start, but she’s a beauty, as you only appreciate her facial features: Yuna’s hair, cheeks swollen with your cock, the feel of her mouth and throat, and the way she’s holding your cock while sucking you off.

You were damn glad you didn’t turn her down. It didn't take long to caress her cheeks and gently brush through her hair.

“Yuna. I want to cum on your face.”

She pulls off with heavy breaths, her chest pumping for air while looking at you desperately. “Whatever you like, Oppa. I can’t describe the taste, but I want to keep sucking on it.”

It wasn’t long after she said that and starts sucking you off more sloppy. You couldn’t hold back but grunt—a natural she is. Her hair brushes along your thighs with every bob Yuna makes.

From the very moment you met her months ago to how she’s naked right in your house today, it was surprising. All the time, she’s sexual in the most natural way, now doing what cameras won’t even see, and she’s here, sucking you off after spreading her legs for you.

Minutes went by, and your cock was pulsating and throbbing. Yuna could only assume what she was getting on her face and pulls off with webs of saliva and cum, then wrap her hands around your cock.

“On my face. On my face, please,” Yuna continued to jerk you off, squeezing your cock as it throbs more.

“Fuck, Yuna!”

She closes her eyes, tongue out to catch every cum that lands on her face, and her warm breath that you faintly felt. You’re grunting the moment you cum, body tensing and jerking. Just painting Yuna’s face, your cock erupts all over her hands as well.

“Yuna,” you said gently with a pleased tone.

“Look at me, Oppa; it’s all over my face and hands.”

You look at her licking off your cum, finger by finger, with closed eyes and a delightful smile. It doesn’t stop there; Yuna scoops your cum from her cheeks and lips, just staring right at you seductively.

“Careful of your eyes,” you said quietly within a breath.

“It’s so thick and warm. Just like how it was inside me.”

All you did was stare at her until she licks off every cum. “Get dressed, Yuna. I can’t have you here before evening.”

“How was I? Good or not?”

You grab her bra and hand it to her like nothing happened minutes ago. “For a first-timer, you’re good at using your mouth. But stay here until you get your ride home.”

#itzy smut #yuna smut #kpop smut

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themultifandomgal · 8 months ago

Note

Hey I got a request for peaky blinders

So basically tommy is a single dad to a girl she is 2 years old and you got you was I’ll and tommy was in a meeting and you was bored she u walk. In and tommy yelled at you So you run off and started crying you find John and Arthur and told they what happened how u was I’ll and they find tommy to tell him he was a dick about yelling at you then he told u he was sorry

Hope that make sense x

Tommy Shelby- Just Want To Protect You

I hope this is what you wanted.

YN and Tommy haven’t been dating all that long, she knew he was a single dad and his daughter, Mary, came first no matter what. YN also knew that he was a dangerous man, but she didn’t care. To her Tommy was a caring man who loved his family (even if he didn’t show it), all he wanted to do was keep YN and his daughter safe.

Unfortunately Mary had been ill with a cold the last week so while Tommy was in meetings YN would take on the roll of looking after her, however today YN woke up feeling rough. She has a headache, stuffy nose and scratchy throat, but still being a mother figure to the young girl YN takes on the task of looking after her and and house while Tommy is in his office working.

“I want daddy”

“I know” YN replies bouncing the crying girl in her arms “but daddy is busy. Why don’t you take a nap. You might feel better and when you wake up, daddy might be finished”

“Ok” Mary sniffles snuggling into YN’s neck. YN takes Mary to her bedroom and puts her down. She stays with Mary until she’s asleep. Feeling rough herself she decides to go and have a nap herself, however due to her blocked nose and now cough, YN gives up after half an hour.

Making her way down stairs she decides to make herself and Tommy a cup of tea. Feeling bored YN knocks on Tommys office door before walking in

“Hi love, I made you a drink” YN says walking in placing the tea on his desk, Tommy just grunts in response “Mary is asleep, still has this awful cold. I said maybe once she wakes up you’d be finished with work”

“And why would you tell her that?” Tommy looks up to YN

“I just thought that you could have a break, you can sit in your chair and work all the time. Mary misses you”

“I can’t just stop working because Mary wants me to”

“I’m not saying that. You’ve been in here since 6 this morning. It’s now 1 and you’ve not had a break or anything to eat”

“I can’t”

“Fine. Guess I’ll be looking after your sick child all day again”

“I didn’t ask you to”

“Then who will? Your to busy with you fucking businesses to even notice that she’s been crying for you this morning”

“Don’t you swear at me!” Tommy yells standing up “Mary isn’t even your daughter so if she’s so much of a bother why don’t you just go!” Feeling taken back YN takes in what Tommy just said

“Fine” YN replies keeping her tears back.

Asking one of the maids to keep an eye on Mary, YN leaves the house and makes her way to the Garrison where she sees Arthur and John

“YN” John waves his brothers girlfriend over

“Hi” she sadly says

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s our brother done this time?” Arthur sighs

“It’s just that, I don’t feel well but ive been taking care of his daughter who’s also ill. When I told him to have a break from work he just blew up”

“Our brother is an idiot YN, I’ll speak with him” John replies

“No don’t. He will know I’ve spoken to you and he will probably have a fit. I’m gonna get a drink”

That evening YN sits her home with a book in her hands, when there is a knock at her door. Putting her book down she heads over feeling confused to who could be at her front door. Opening it up there is Tommy holding flowers in his hands

“I’m a dick I know. I’m sorry”

“You better come in” YN opens up her door wider so Tommy could enter “where’s Mary?”

“At home. Ada has her. I know I shouldn’t have shouted at you, your ill and been looking after my daughter. You didn’t have to but you did. I just get so scared when it comes to you and Mary. I just want to keep you safe and we have a problem with the business. I didn’t want you involved, I didn’t want to worry you”

“Tom, I’m your girlfriend. If we want this to work you can’t shut me out”

“I know I know. Arthur and John knocked some sense into me. Let me make it up to you. Let me cook supper for you. Treat you like a queen”

“I’d like that” YN smiles.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby

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forever-rogue · 1 year ago

Note

hello, lovely! i've been re-reading your works like CRAZY, you're so talented! 🩷 can i pretty please request for a friends-to-lovers one with eddie where the reader's ex suddenly comes back to her life and tries to win her back, and eddie realizes his feelings for the reader? i LIVE for jealous!eddie too sksksks thank you! 🩷

AN | Nothing good happens when the ex comes to town, right? 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Modern!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Guess what,” you walked into Eddie’s cozy coffee shop, waving at a few regulars as you made your way over to the counter. He stopped what he was doing and looked at you with expectant eyes, a lazy little half smile on his features, “hiya!”

“Hi sweetheart,” he leaned onto the counter, resting his chin in his hands as he looked at you gently, “lemme guess…chicken butt?”

“Very funny,” you leaned in and kissed his cheek before you reached over and helped yourself to one of his brownies. He always saved at least one for you, which was something that always made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, “but no.”

“Do tell then,” he grinned as he turned back to the espresso maker, “gingerbread flat white?”

“Ooh, yes please,” you watched him work in awe before he came back over to you, setting the cup carefully in front of you, “no, the exciting thing that happened to me was that I saw August today!”

Eddie’s face dropped immediately as his jaw clenched, “August.”

“Yes!” you looked happy and somehow that made his stomach churn, “he came into the office today to consult with one of the designers and I saw him when I was leaving! He had no clue I worked there and I had no clue he was there.”

“Your ex,” he pointed out as you lifted up the cup and started to drink the delicious latte, “August, your ex.”

“Yes,” you raised an eyebrow before sighing lightly, “we’re still…well I wouldn’t say friends. But we needed things amicably if you don’t remember.”

“You cried over him for weeks,” he almost shouted but quickly dropped his voice as he narrowed his eyes, “he broke your heart!”

“Yes, he broke up with me, but it wasn’t over anything bad,” you cringed when you remembered that you really had been upset when August had broken up with you, “we just weren’t good together. That’s all.”

“I never liked him,” that was the understatement of the century. Eddie didn’t just dislike August, he hated and loathed him entirely. You’d broken your heart and Eddie couldn’t stand that. Just like he hated the face that he was dating you in the first place. Eddie had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Probably since the day he’d met you over ten years ago, “he’s always been a little bit…scrungly.”

“Scrungly?” you repeated, almost choking on the coffee in between your giggles, “what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, just like scrungly,” he flailed his arms dramatic, “either way I don’t like him.”

“I’m well aware, Edward,” you reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, “but it is what it is…and we’re going hang out and go bowling soon.”

“You’re what?” he looked like he was going to explode and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously. You’d always wondered why he didn’t like August but he never really had a solid reason. You figured it was just some weird guy thing, “why are you hanging out with him?!”

“Because he asked if I wanted to hang out and there’s no reason not to,” you straightened up and grabbed your coffee, “look, Eddie, I know you mean well, but you don’t have to worry. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. We’re just going to hang out once and if it’s completely terrible I never have to see him again, and if it goes well maybe we can be friends. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he lied right through his teeth, “okay.”

“I’ve gotta go,” you took a step back and offered him a small smile, “see you tomorrow for movie and pizza night?”

“Of course,” like he would miss a chance to spend time with you, “love you.”

“Love you too, Eddie,” you promised. If only he knew how very much, “thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey!” you looked up from your phone when you heard the sound of August’s cheery voice. Tucking your phone into your pocket, you walked over and met him halfway to say hello. He pulled you in for a friendly hug, “you look great. It’s good to see you again. Really good.”

“It’s good to see you too Auggie,” you felt your face warm up but decided to ignore it as you walked up towards the bowling alley. You reminded yourself that this was a friendly outing and not a date, “I can’t believe you’re back in Indy now.”

“I can’t believe you work as an interior designer,” he held the door open and you were immediately overwhelmed by the sounds of people bowling, talking, and laughing. You looked at him with a shy smile and shrugged. It hadn’t been a career you would have thought of either, but Eddie had nudged in the direction after you’d helped him design his cafe. Besides becoming friends with Eddie, it was one of the best designs you’d ever made.

“It just sort of happened but I love it,” you walked towards the counter to get your shoes and a lane, “you remember Eddie, right? He helped me get there, he was a huge supporter.”

You both gave your shoe sizes to the bored looking clerk and when he told you the price for everything, you moved to reach for your wallet but August gently pushed your hand away, “I’ve got this.”

“Okay,” you gave him a starry eyed smile as he grabbed both pairs of shoes and started to head towards the lane that was now reserved for you. The bowling alley always had a very distinct smell but it was so nostalgic to be there, “I haven’t been bowling in forever. This was a good idea! I think the last time I went was a couple of years ago with Eddie.”

“Eddie,” you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking from the tone in his voice, “you’re still friends with him?”

“Of course,” you finished pulling on your shoes and looked at him curiously, “he’s my best friend.”

“He’s in love with you,” okay. That was definitely annoyance in his voice and you had no clue why, “I’ll be honest with you, it was one of the reasons we broke up in the first place. Sometimes it felt like you were dating him, not me.”

“I…he’s not in love with me,” your mind was reeling at what he had said and you couldn’t help but wonder - what if? What if Eddie really was in love with you? No…you weren’t even going to bother to entertain that thought, “you broke up with me because of Eddie?”

“It wasn’t entirely him,” he dropped his voice and looked at you sweetly, “but people change and grow, you know? You never know what could happen.”

There was definitely a suggestive tone to his voice that was not lost on you. You only managed a small smile in return before clambering nervously to pick up your bowling ball. You felt his fingers brush along your back as you moved, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin.

“You never know,” you agreed nervously, voice almost a squeak as you went to take your first shot. That did have you thinking though - would you want to get back together with him? You had never really thought about it…but the idea wasn’t all that bad either. It wasn’t like people were lining up out the door to ask you out…sometimes you had to take what you could get.

A part of you was excited by the prospect - he was a good looking, nice guy that you did love once upon a time. On the other hand, you didn’t want to open that can of worms and let anything happen that could end with another broken heart. Plus there was the issue of Eddie. Realistically it was a non-issue. But you knew that your heart would always long for and yearn for Eddie. You loved him, you’d known that for a long time, but you always knew that nothing would ever happen or change between the two of you.

August continued to be friendly enough and you didn’t think anything of it, but as the night progressed, you could tell that things had changed. You hadn’t done anything, not to your knowledge anyway, to act flirty or make it seem like you wanted anything but friendship with him. It was his comments about Eddie that had you experiencing a feeling of unease. The way he’d talked about him just didn’t sit right with you.

By the time the two of you felt the bowling alley and parted with August pressing a kiss to your cheek, you’d realized that this definitely had been a date.

Fuck. You really hadn’t expected this to happen.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ever since the night you’d gone out with August, Eddie was behaving oddly towards you. You couldn’t quite place it but you hated the idea that he was any bit mad or annoyed with you.

You’d been texting with August back and forth, and you were both following each other again on social media. You’d made plans for a casual lunch date soon; it was since Eddie had learned about your second outing that he’d been acting weird. You were pretty sure that he was just downright ignoring you. But you weren’t about to let that stop you from being his friend.

“Hey there,” you walked into the shop when you knew it would be slow and he’d be there. You were almost positive that he’d been avoiding you and had his employees cover for him when you came to the shop. Eddie’s face paled as soon as he saw you, but he still managed a tight lipped smile, “everything alright, Eddie? I feel you’ve been…avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been…I’ve just been busy,” he shrugged noncommittally as he went back to scrub at the counter, “that’s all.”

“You’ve always been a horrible liar, Edward,” you walked up to the counter and offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, “did I do something wrong?”

“I…no. You didn’t,” he still wouldn’t meet your eyes but pushed a muffin towards you. Of course he still would save your favorite for you, “it’s nothing.”

“Funny,” you willed him to look at you but the boy still refused, “it doesn’t feel like it. Ever since I hung out with August you’ve been…weird.”

"You don't get it, do you?" He sighed in frustration, tossing his rag to the side and waving his hands around dramatically as you looked at him in confusion. He inhaled and exhaled deeply before brushing his wild curls out of his face, "I want you. I want to date you. I'm in love with you."

"Oh," it came out more as a small squeak than anything as you looked at him to make sure you'd heard him correctly. Eddie looked close to tears as he waited for some kind of response from you. You pointed at yourself before whispering, "me?"

"Yes," he nodded seriously, "you. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear but it's the truth. And I just wanted to get it out there."

"Oh," this time realization set in. Eddie Munson was in love with you. Not some other girl like you'd always assumed, "you're in love with me."

"Yes. Yes," he felt so nervous he was surprised he didn't just barf then and there, "listen-"

"I'm in love with you too,” your voice was quiet and shaky, but Eddie heard you loud and clear. When he didn’t say anything at first, you completely freaked out and ran through the back of the cafe and into the chilly evening. He followed after you immediately and didn’t stop still he caught up.

He perked up and looked at you from under his lashes, studying your face to make sure he’d heard you correctly. You offered a small, shy smile along with a shrug, “I’m…nervous. I dunno, I kind of always thought you knew but you never said because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings or let me down.”

“I - ugh, what…I’m - sweetheart,” the nickname sounded so sugary sweet now that you knew the true intentions behind it, “if I had any clue that you felt the same way, I would have said something long ago. I should have just done that anyway.”

“Oh,” your cheeks warmed up, a combination of nerves and the chilly of the winter air as you looked at the pretty boy. You were stopped from saying anything else as big, flat snowflakes starting coming down on the two of you. A grin spread across your face as you held up your hand to catch a few flakes in your hand, “it’s snowing.”

Eddie watched you in awe, enamored by every little bit of you. He reached over and put his hand on your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat as you look at him expectantly. You knew what was coming but at the same time you didn’t want to assume anything, “I really want to kiss you.”

“I really want you to kiss me too,” you grinned as you leaned in closer, meeting him halfway until your lips met his. It was a sweet, slow thing, tender but hungry at the same time. Both of you had been wanting this for way too long, and now your dreams were finally coming true.

A first kiss in the middle of the first snow of the season. How could it get any more perfect?

Eddie took your face in his hands, and peppered your face in kisses, which only caused you to giggle, “c’mon pretty girl. Let’s get inside and get some hot chocolate.”

“That sounds perfect,” you reached for his hand and laced your fingers together and pulled him back towards the cafe, “c’mon handsome.”

“But first promise me one thing,” he stopped you nervously as you raised an eyebrow at him, “promise me you won’t see him again. He’s the worst.”

“I promise,” you definitely weren’t planning on ever seeing him again, “it’s only you for me, Eddie.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, “you’re it for me too, sweetheart. Only you.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st

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star-girl69 · 5 months ago

Text

Guilty Pleasure

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: after weeks full of stress and homework, all you want to do is have a nice evening with your girlfriend. but it’s hard to let yourself do that when she’s working herself to death to prepare for hockey championships.

a/n: wow i’m a genius… based off of this ask!! i hope you all enjoy!! STREAM TOUGH BY LANA AND QUAVO‼️‼️‼️

a few notes:

shoutout to my wonderful sister wife @lovinpelova read her kk fic it’s amazing ILY AND OUR WIFE 🫶

and rip to laila’s ability to go live 💔💔

Guilty Pleasure - Chappell Roan

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, i don’t know anything about college please spare me, college scares me, i’m scared, anyways, texting if that triggers y’all, the tiniest bit of angst, y/n is kinda like insecure and all self deprecating LOL, umm a little bit of kissing, hurt/comfort!!!!!!!! kinda!!!!, swearing, ending sucks so bad, this sucks, whatever, i think that’s all let me know if i missed anything!!

—-

“Y/N,” your roommate groans into the stillness of your room. Besides for the natural humming of the building, it’s midnight, a school night, and the dorms are mostly silent. “Y/N, please. Turn off the lights and go to bed. You can’t keep studying, babe.”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, standing up from your desk and flicking the light switch on the wall. You hear your roommate, Jackie, let out a sigh of relief.

Immediately, you sit back down, flipping the desk lamp on.

“Ugh, no, babe. That’s not what I meant- you need to sleep.”

“I have to study.”

Jackie had it so easy- you’ve never seen her study for any test, ever, yet she always comes back with 90’s on whatever assignment it is. Not you. No, you work your ass off and get an 80- if you’re lucky.

“You’ve been studying all weekend,” she groans. “You can’t do anything about it now, trust me. Whatever happens, happens. All you can do now is sleep.”

You’re silent, trying to cram just a few more vocab words into your head.

“Y/N, please!”

A pillow hits your head.

“Bitch!” You yell, glaring at her. Maybe you did really think she would be smiling at you, but she’s not. She’s looking at you with real concern in her eyes.

“Babe. I can see the dark circles under your eyes from here.”

And if you’re honest, the words on the pages are starting to blur, you can’t process anything- you know she’s right. You’re not helping yourself at this point, but you’re too scared to just give up and go to bed. What if you stay up for one more minute and it completely saves your ass tomorrow?

“Maybe you should call KK?” Jackie says, tentatively, but you’re not even looking at her anymore. “I won’t even complain that you’re whispering.”

“She’s probably asleep,” you mutter. “She texted me today, they had a really hard practice.”

“Yeah, but she’ll answer if you call. We both know she will.”

“No, I’m not bothering her. I’ll go to bed, okay?”

You meet Jackie’s eyes, and she looks you up and down.

“Okay.”

But she doesn’t settle, not when you’ve flicked the light off. You can see her when your eyes adjust, she doesn’t lay down until she sees you in bed, covers pulled up to your chin.

It’s only when you finally firmly squeeze your eyes shut that you hear the rustling of her settling into bed.

“Goodnight,” she murmurs, concern in her voice.

“Goodnight,” you say back.

She’s right. She’s completely right about everything.

She’s close with KK and the rest of the team you’ve come to known like family just like you. KK would answer you. She always has notifications turned on for you and you for her.

And there’s nothing else you can do about this test tomorrow, you’re confident you’ll at least pass it, but since you’re not doing any sports like almost everyone else at this school, you feel like you should at least have better grades. But you just… don’t.

As you wrap your arms around yourself in the darkness, hoping Jackie’s eyes are closed and she can’t see you, all you can do is think about Caroline.

—-

hockey queen: r u still coming over??

you: yes ofc do u hate me and want me to die????

hockey queen: no ily ❤️

you: ilyt i’m getting food tn btw

hockey queen: ok babe wtvr u want 😍

After days of turning down every invitation to go out, after forcing yourself to stay home and feeling Jackie’s disapproving eyes on you every time you stayed up late- your last class of the week had finished.

It was Friday afternoon, the sky starting to turn a pretty grey that let you know rain was coming. This entire week had felt like a battle in the long war that was college, and you desperately needed a night in with a movie and some takeout to replenish yourself for the next week-long battle.

And you needed that night to be with Caroline. Desperately. Even though you knew she was working herself just as hard, with your workload and her busy hockey schedule these Friday nights were sacred, and weekly.

No one ever skipped a Friday night.

Even when you were under the weather with the most horrible headache you’ve ever been plagued with, Caroline still came over and rubbed you temples, talked to you to distract you in a soft voice and let you drool on her when you finally did fall asleep.

Even when Caroline was so exhausted from a hard practice, and all she had the strength to do was brush her teeth and change into sweats, you let her pass out on top of you and stayed put the rest of the night, rubbing her back, just to make sure she got her rest.

With championships coming up, you’re sure tonight will be another night in which KK is barely functioning, but as long as she’s just there, tangible, you’ll be fine.

That’s what you tell yourself, even as you walk across campus, letting your mind guiltily wander to you just finally stopping for one second, slowing down and confiding in her how fucking exhausted you were.

The rational part of you knew she would understand. But the insecure, childish part of you that was scared you’ll be seen as too needy, too much, overpowered everything else.

You needed whatever bit of Caroline she would give you.

You sighed, kicking a stick on the concrete path away at a particularly vivid fantasy of you absolutely sobbing in her arms. And it’s not like you haven’t cried in front of her before- what scared you about this guilty fantasy was how good it felt, even in this daydream, to let her in.

She works so hard. You can’t dump yourself onto her either.

—-

jacked 💪: do i have the dorm to myself tn??

you: yes 🤗

jacked 💪: inviting sexy boy from econ over

you: use protection ily

jacked 💪: BITCH ilyt

KK and Laila had the cutest apartment that wasn’t too far away, with a really pretty view out onto a street with lots of lights that almost made it feel like new york city.

Unfortunately, the rest of the apartment really did feel like the apartment of two college girls. There was perpetually dishes in the sink, the weirdest posters and inside jokes plastered onto the walls- you didn’t even try to understand them.

Laila likes to joke that she knows when it’s time to clean based on how bad your reaction is when you walk in. She decides they can go a few more days without cleaning. You roll your eyes, eating your takeout at the counter while you wait for your girlfriend to get out of the shower.

When she finally does emerge from her room, her slightly curly hair in its prettiest slightly wet form, dressed in comfy clothes- something immediately squeezes inside of your chest.

Maybe it’s your heart. Or maybe it’s a physical manifesting of nerves and guilt in that’s made its home in your chest. Whatever.

You can see the tiredness on her face when she walks over to where you sit, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek.

You ignore Lalia’s exaggerated gag.

“Come with me,” KK murmurs into your ear, and you don’t need to be told twice, stuffing your keys into your pocket and following her.

“Don’t be too loud!” Laila shouts after you, looking into the fridge to find a snack- you all know that fridge is in desperate need of a restock and a deep clean- “There are other people in this apartment, okay?”

“Shut up!” KK responds, holding onto your arm tightly and shutting the door behind you.

—-

After putting on some random movie from Netflix in the background, you were all too happy to throw yourself onto KK’s comfy bed, smiling when she let out an exaggerated groan, collapsing face down next to you.

“Aw, hard practice?” You fake cooed, and she nodded into her pillows. You played with a damp curl, twisting it between your fingers.

“So many bag skates,” she moaned. “I lost count. I swear I almost died. I saw the gates of Heaven.”

“Poor baby.”

“Yes,” she muttered in agreement, grabbing your hand playing with her hair and pressing it up against her face so she could trap you between her face and the pillow. “Everything hurts.”

The only light came from the flickering movie, and you could barely even hear it as you stared at her face. You press a kiss to her cheek and she smiles, and you sit up even as your own exhausted body screams at you.

She frowns when you take your hand away from her face, but doesn’t seem as bothered anymore when you straddle her legs and softly start to massage her shoulders.

“I love you,” she whispers, eyes falling shut. “Oh, my God, you could become a masseuse.”

You laugh, relishing in how intimate this moment feels, holding onto the feeling in your chest that erupted when she said “I love you” it’s not possible to feel guilt in this moment, shrouded in a haze that might be because of your droopy eyes but you tell yourself it’s because you love this girl so much.

“I haven’t seen you all week,” Caroline says after a second.

“I know,” you say after a long moment. Thinking of those long nights when you wanted to be selfish so bad. When you wanted her all to yourself. “Sorry. I’ve had, like, a lot of homework lately and stuff.”

“But the worst is over now?”

You heart squeezes at the hopeful edge to her tone.

It’s hard to find times when your schedules match. It hurts you, you know it hurts her, and sometimes these Fridays are the only thing that can keep you sane. You might actually end up in a mental hospital.

“Oh, um… I dunno. Hopefully, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she says, biting back a yawn. “I jus’ miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you say, so quietly it’s almost like a confession. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m about to fall asleep,” you groan, slipping off of her and back onto the bed.

Laying on your side so you’re facing her, you watch as she opens her eyes and smiles at you in that sweet, slightly goofy way you fell in love with.

She reaches out and softly touches your under eyes, where you know there’s noticeable dark circles. She frowns, ever-so-slightly, and the unspoken question is thick in the air.

“Jackie keeps getting all pissed off at me,” you say, breaking the silence, making sure she doesn’t ask that question: “have you been sleeping?” You’re fine. You’re fine. “She thinks I’m studying too much but no matter how many times I tell her I’m studying a pretty normal amount- she won’t let it go.”

“Are you studying a normal amount?”

There’s a slight teasing smile on her face, so you roll your eyes.

“Yes. I stay up a little late, like, once and it’s like it’s the end of the world.”

It’s not just once, and it’s not just a little late, but KK is so tired, you can see it on her face.

She laughs. “Jackie jus’ loves you,” she says after a yawn.

“Too much, maybe.”

She puts her arm around you, tugging you closer to her. “You deserve all the love in the world, baby.”

You smile like a cheesy schoolgirl. “Okay,” you say, pressing a short kiss to her lips. “Go to bed, please. You can barely keep your eyes open and it’s actually kinda scary.”

“Come here,” she groans, pulling you even closer until you’re pressed up right against her.

And before you can even think about what you’re doing, you let out a sigh and press your face into her neck. This might be your favorite place- where you can feel her heartbeat and the way her arm is wrapped around you.

Your chest squeezes when everything fades out for a second, tiredness you didn’t feel until you were in her arms suddenly coming out in the form of a yawn.

“Damn, you’re tired,” she whispers, and you can hear the smile in her voice. You try to mumble “so are you” but it comes out as an incoherent mumble that she chuckles at.

Just as you faintly realize that comforting sensation is her hand in your hair, scratching your head, guilt consumes you. She’s been working so hard at practice- and here she is comforting you? You’re not going to national championships like her. You’re not doing anything important- you’re just tired from getting mediocre grades.

Sluggish, you moan and try to move out of her comfort, something inside of you screaming that you don’t deserve it, but she only mistakes it as you shifting in your sleep and softly shushes you.

And just as you push off sleep enough to try and get out, her breathing evens out. So, you fall asleep press tightly into her arms, feeling so guilty you think it might actually destroy you.

—-

hockey queen: hi baby practice finished early can i come over?

…

hockey queen: are u studying

hockey queen: babe pls i’m bored

hockey queen: ok i’m coming over deal w it

You set your pen down, staring at the scribbles in the margins of your assignment- the actual questions still blank. You sigh, feeling pressure behind your eyes that you try not to let spill.

“Fuck,” you whisper, putting your head into your hands and allowing yourself one guilty moment to wallow in self-pity before you finish this fucking assignment.

It’s still early, but you know you should have done this simple one page of work before tackling the endless pages of review for another test you have tomorrow- now you’re so tired you can barely see, and your hand is cramping.

You softly scrunch your dominant hand into a fist before spreading it out flat, almost wincing at how sore it is. Is it even possible for your hand to be this sore? Covered in smudged ink, you debate going to the bathroom and washing your hands. Maybe you need to walk around, then you can get this one page done.

But all you can think about is that stupid test tomorrow, and maybe you should stay up late again, screw Jackie’s concern, study more-

The first tear that drops onto your paper shocks you a bit. And you feel so stupid for crying in the first place that you start crying more.

Pressing your face into your hands, you’re too tired to try and stop the tears, just letting them fall. Your mind races with thoughts of that stupid test, this stupid assignment- and some rational part of you knows that this is unhealthy- but it’s college, and it kinda feels like everything you do is a precursor for your adult life.

If you can’t juggle tests and homework- how are you going to juggle bills and work? Simple housework?

Someone knocks on the door.

You freeze for a moment, feeling your makeup run streaky down your face, eyes still full of tears and mascara messy-

“Y/N?”

Oh, fuck. Fuck. You know that voice, you know KK’s voice, you can hear her perfectly through the door.

And you’re just stupidly, completely frozen.

Maybe because part of you wants to just run into her arms.

And before you can make up some lie or do anything to get her to go away, she just opens the door, and you quickly turn away.

“Oh. Y/N,” she says, obviously very confused. “I figured you weren’t in here. Did you see my texts?”

“Uh,” you start, and you know immediately that she can hear the sadness in your voice. “No, sorry. I’ve been studying.”

“What happened?” She asks, and you would laugh at the way she looks around the room, almost as if someone is going to jump out. “You’re crying.”

“No,” you fake laugh, standing up. “Give me a second, there’s something in my eye-”

She grabs your wrist.

“Please don’t lie to me.”

The sincerity and love in her voice makes you cry more.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. I’m just a little overwhelmed with school, I’ve had some late nights, it’s stupid that I’m crying over this. Seriously, babe, thank you- but it’s not that big of a deal.”

She’s got this kinda heartbroken look on her face, and you love her so much- you feel even more guilty for making her feel like this, for being the cause of the frown on her face, and you just want to go back in time and stop all of this from happening.

“…It is a big deal if it’s making you cry.”

You can’t say anything.

She wipes a few tears from your face. “You look exhausted, baby. I didn’t want to say anything because I know you’ve had a lot going on with school, but I know you, I know you’re tired and I think maybe-”

“I’ve had a few late nights, okay?” You finally meet her eyes, trying to convince her that you’re okay, because you feel so stupid and vulnerable and you can’t stand it when she has that concerned look in her eyes for you. “Like, not even that late. 2 A.M. isn’t even that bad. I mean, it’s not like it pays off, because my grades are still shit- but, whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine, okay? I’m sorry, I’m just not thinking straight, and- it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“You’re not fuckin’ fine, Y/N. Stop saying that, why are you pushing me away? You can tell me anything, I love you.”

She’s dropped her bag by now, her entire attention focused on you, one arm wrapped around your waist as if you might run away from her and the other softly brushing away the tears that continue to fall.

“I try so hard,” you say after a second. “I study so much. And I… I just can’t get good grades. And I just… I feel so guilty all the time, because I just want to spend time with you and I love you so much but you work so hard and I just don’t want to be another thing for you to deal with.”

And once it’s finally out, not curled up in your chest like a second heart leeching on the very essence of your being, the tears dry up.

Caroline softly smiles.

“What?” You ask, sniffling a bit, one step away from crying again.

“It’s just- how could you ever think that you would be something for me to “deal” with?”

“I dunno,” you say, slightly pouty as she helps you sit down next to her.

“You’re my favorite person in the entire world. I love you more than anything- even hockey, which is saying a lot. You’re never something for me to deal with, and I don’t do anything but smile anytime someone says your name, or you text me, or I get to see you- I’m sorry that it really sucks right now, with my schedule, and that you were feeling like this and I had no idea- but I really fucking love you.”

You smile softly. “You’re sweet,” you murmur, legs intertwining with hers. “I fucking love you too.”

She places her hand on the side of her face and kisses your nose.

“Don’t ever feel guilty for wanting to spend time with me. I’m never too tired for you. Besides, do you know what I think about during practice?”

“What’s right in front of you face?” You quip.

“Well, that, but also you. And, also, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about with your grades. Don’t you have like an 89 in each class?”

“It’s not a 90,” you groan.

“Still better than me, I’m like all 85’s. And, you’re literally the only reason I’m passing that one class that I hate who’s name I don’t speak.”

You smile, angling yourself to face her, finding that you can’t think of anything poetic to say to tell her how much she means to you, so you just kiss her. Long and slow, trying to pour as much appreciation and emotion into it as possible.

“Okay, game plan, I help you finish whatever work you have, then have you eaten? I’ll get us food. Then, you’re going to go to sleep early, okay?”

“It’s a plan,” you say, standing up and crossing the room to that one piece of paper, tear stain dried on it.

Her face spurs adorably just at the sight of the homework from her least favorite class. “Oh, you’re gonna love me. Don’t worry, I got the answers from the really smart girl I sit next to.” She takes out her own sheet of homework from her bag on the floor, smoothing out the wrinkles on her thigh before proudly handing it to you.

“Hm, I do love you. Just a bit.”

“I’m pretending I didn’t hear that.”

And later that night, with your homework finally done, takeout boxes in the trash bin, and your head on Caroline’s chest- heartbeat in your ears, her lips on the top of you head- it feels impossible to feel guilty about loving her.

—-

Jackie walks in late, groaning to herself about the stupid kid in her study group who asks the most common sense questions- she quickly shuts up when she realizes you’re asleep in your bed.

“Thank God,” she breaths, grateful that she didn’t find you hunched over at the desk again.

She squints into the darkness, quickly realizing there’s two figures on her bed, and the other one is very familiar-

“What did I say?” Jackie mutters to herself. “Insufferably in love with each other.”

Then, she quickly snaps a picture before getting ready for bed herself.

—-

#caroline harvey #caroline harvey x reader #kk harvey #kk harvey x reader #ncaa hockey x reader

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justagalwhowrites · 2 months ago

Text

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 2: Teenagers

You and Joel adjust to each other as you struggle with Ellie. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 1 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Mild suicidal ideation. Mention of grief and child loss. Mention of parent loss. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 13.4k

A/N: For some reference because I haven't explicitly stated their ages, Joel is turning 42 in this chapter and was about to turn 37 in the flashback at the start of this chapter. Reader is 36 (meaning they were the same ages when their kids were born.)

Wednesday, September 25, 2019

“Dad, please!”

Joel sighed, leaning against his counter and sipping his coffee, his 16-year-old daughter standing in front of him with wide, pleading eyes.

“It’s a school night, baby girl,” he said. “We both gotta be up early tomorrow and…”

“And we could play hooky!” She said. “Celebrate your birthday, go to Waffle House…”

“I don’t like waffles.”

“Those are for my benefit,” she replied. “You can get your smothered hash browns and see if they’ll put candles in them so you can celebrate being an old man.”

“I can’t just call into work because it’s my birthday tomorrow, kiddo,” he said. “And your friend should have her party on the weekend…”

“But her birthday’s today!” She said. “It’s sweet 16, please! Everyone’s going, basically no one is going to be at school on Thursday because of it, please Dad!”

He sighed again, Sarah still looking so hopeful in front of him.

And then, her face shifted.

“We could go see the new Curtis and Viper tomorrow,” she smirked, brows raised conspiratorially. “We’ll probably have the theater to ourselves so we can make fun of it.”

Joel clenched his jaw to keep from smiling.

“Come on, Dad,” she said. “You worked so late on your birthday last year that we didn’t get to do anything. Please?”

He sighed.

“What would you miss at school tomorrow?”

“Basically nothing!” She said quickly, eyes lighting up. “I have exam review but I got As on all my homework in that class so I don’t need it and…”

“Jesus, you’re a bad influence,” he muttered, taking a sip of coffee. Sarah squealed, slamming into him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” She said, her voice muffled by his shirt before she pulled back at looked up at him, practically beaming. “We’re going to have so much fun tomorrow!”

“Somethin’ tells me you’re more excited about having fun tonight than hanging out with me tomorrow,” he shook his head but smiled all the same. “Who all’s goin’ to this thing tonight? There gonna be boys and drinking and shit?”

“Dad,” she gave him a look.

“You can act all grown up all you want, baby girl, but you’re still a kid,” he said. “Want you to have fun but don’t want you doing anything too dangerous…”

“My friends don’t drink…”

“You say that now,” he muttered.

“…and Brit’s parents will be there so while there will be boys, nothing’s going to happen with the boys.”

“Alright,” he sighed. “But you gotta promise me you’re gonna be safe, no gettin’ in the car with someone who’s been drinking. Even just one beer is too much and you call me if you don’t have another way home, I’ll come get you, you won’t be in trouble and…”

“I know, Dad,” she rolled her eyes but smiled a little. “Don’t worry so much. I don’t plan on getting drunk anytime soon. Maybe inject heroin under my fingernails but…”

“Your fingernails, huh?” Joel teased.

“Well yeah,” she said. “Gotta hide the track marks.”

There was a honk from the driveway and Sarah grabbed what was left of her coffee - more creamer than actual coffee but Joel still liked to humor her - and chugged it.

“That’s Emma,” she said, rinsing out her favorite mug, the chipped one with the owl on it that she’d been drinking hot cocoa out of since she was so small that it was more like room temperature cocoa, and setting it beside the sink. “I’m going to go to her place after school to get ready for the party since you’ll probably be at work, anyway.”

“Yeah, should stay late and try and wrap up as much as I can since apparently I’m not workin’ tomorrow,” he smirked. “Home by midnight, OK baby girl?”

“Yup!” She said, giving him a quick hug. He gave her a squeeze, pressing a kiss to her temple. “See you tonight!”

“Be safe!” He called after her as she grabbed her backpack and headed for the front door.

When she looked back over her shoulder to wave goodbye, he didn’t know it would be the last time he’d ever see her smile.

***

Thursday, September 26, 2024

It was still dark outside.

Joel wasn’t sure what time it was but it was still dark outside so it was OK. He didn’t need to be aware of things like time or hunger or your safety when it was still dark and he was in his daughter’s room.

He jerked awake not too long after midnight, just like he’d done every year on his birthday ever since Sarah died. He wasn’t sure why he even bothered trying to sleep in his own bed, as though anything would be different. Why would it be different? The only thing that mattered was gone, it couldn’t be different.

He stared at his ceiling for a while, waiting to see if he’d be able to fall asleep again, if he could shake the feeling of phantom blood on his skin in the red glow of his alarm clock but he couldn’t. So he did what he always did on the morning of his birthday: he went to his daughter’s room.

Joel rarely went to Sarah’s room now. Maria, his sister in law, probably spent more time in there than he did, coming by every few months while he was on a job to dust and run the vacuum so it didn’t fall to ruin. She was careful to not disturb things when she did, the t-shirt Sarah had worn to sleep in still draped over the back of her desk chair and the book she’d been reading still face down on the page she’d stopped at on her nightstand. He turned on the lamp and sank onto the bed - still unmade, like she’d left it that morning - staring at the poster-covered walls.

The posters were old now, the sun fading them in the five years that had passed since his daughter had left him behind. It made the room seem like a relic, as though this space was a museum and not a place where someone had lived once, and it set Joel on edge.

Five years. Half a decade without the most important person there’d ever been or ever would be. She’d only been 16 when she died and five years had passed so quickly. Soon, she’d have been gone as long as she’d been here. Soon, to the sun-bleached posters and peeling soccer trophies, it would be like she’d never been here at all.

He found himself looking at the poster of you more than he remembered doing before when he’d been in this room before. It was strange, knowing you existed outside of this liminal space now. You were real, corporeal, a human being with thoughts and feelings and not some imagined thing with an almost disturbingly perfect face someone had invented and put on paper.

It had been a three days since Joel had seen you last, spending 11 days working with three days off in between. Tommy had been hesitant to schedule him back on duty today of all days but Joel had all but insisted on it. He needed the distraction. More than that, he needed to keep out of trouble. He needed something to keep him from trying to find the person responsible for his daughter’s death and killing them himself. Protecting you was a good enough distraction.

Yours was the first contract like this Joel had taken on, one that was longer and more involved. Typically, people who needed someone on hand 24/7 didn’t live in Austin, Texas. They passed through and Joel’s job was done in a week, two at most. You were more complicated.

Part of that was the nature of the job, of course. Working in such close proximity and in such risky situations made shit complicated.

He’d had to establish rules with you that first day after dropping Ellie off at school. He ground his teeth as you went by a small local coffee shop on your way home, you giving a fake name at the counter as the barista all but stared at you.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl smiled sheepishly. “But has anyone told you that you look just like…”

“Oh yeah,” you waved her off. “I get that all the time. Not sure why, I think she’s way prettier.”

Joel resisted the urge to snap at you until the two of you were back to the car, you still refusing to let him drive as you sipped your overpriced coffee with a contented sigh.

“Can I help you?” You asked him, brows raised, as you watched him over the rim of your cup.

“You tryin’ to get yourself killed?” He said.

“Didn’t realize the coffee shop was so dangerous…”

“You know what I mean,” he snapped. “You’re bein’ reckless.”

“I get coffee all the time back home and -”

“And you got yourself a fucking stalker, didn’t you?” He cut you off. “S’why you’re stuck with me, spent too much time runnin’ around doing whatever the fuck you wanted and now you’re payin’ the price.”

“No, I’m paying the price because the studio is overreacting,” you said, condescension dripping from your voice. “Pretty sure I’d still be sitting in my car sipping a coffee if you were off promising to take a bullet for someone else.”

You held his gaze as you took a drink, as if to make a point.

“I don’t know why this is fuckin’ news to you, but you’re one of the most famous people on the goddamn planet,” he snapped. “That shit comes with problems. If you didn’t want to deal with those problems, maybe you shouldn’t have become fuckin’ famous.”

You looked at him, like you were trying to hold back a laugh, eyebrows raised so high they almost disappeared into your hairline.

“You think I chose to become famous?” You asked. “You think I wanted this?”

“Ain’t that why people become actresses,” he said more than asked.

You just looked at him for a moment, like you were examining him.

“You don’t have many friends, do you?” You said after a moment.

He ground his teeth.

“Got as many as I need,” he said. “Let’s get you home before I have to take a damn bullet because you’re stubborn.”

“Yes, I’m sure the woman driving that minivan is packing,” you said wryly but putting the car in drive all the same. “Very dangerous.”

“It’s Texas,” he said, voice flat. “She probably is.”

But instead of going home, you drove to Whole Foods. Fucking Whole Foods.

Joel was almost positive it was to piss him off but you completely ignored him as you went up and down the aisles, filling up your cart as he tried to watch for whatever threats might be at a goddamn grocery store while you acted like your goddamn baseball cap made you invisible to whoever might be looking for you.

“I know you got people for this,” he muttered under his breath, putting his body between you and as much of the rest of the store as he could as you meticulously selected an apple. “Should fuckin’ carry you out of here…”

“Yes but that would cause a scene, wouldn’t it?” You said, smug. “And that’s even MORE dangerous, right?”

He narrowed his eyes at you and moved to respond but cut him off.

“What do you think of this apple?” You thrust it under his nose. “It smells good, right?”

“It’s a goddamn apple.”

“Yes, but I need to try to get a teenager to eat it,” you sighed, impatient. “I need it to be appealing. Would you eat it if you were a teenager?”

“If I tell you yes, will you shut the fuck up and get out of here?”

“Maybe.”

“Then yeah, I’d eat the goddamn apple, let’s go.”

You smiled a little, satisfied, and got several apples and added them to the cart before taking your sweet time going through the rest of the store.

Eventually, you finished your shopping trip and actually got ready to go home. The only person who seemed to recognize you at the store was the cashier, who gaped at you as much as one person could gape at another while they rang up their items.

“That will be $267.48,” she said and you went to put your credit card but then she jumped. “Oh, wait! I can put in my discount…”

“You don’t need to do that,” you laughed. “But you’re sweet to offer!”

“But…”

“How about you put that discount in for someone else who comes through your line today,” you smiled.

“OK,” she smiled a little hesitantly. “Sorry, I’ve just never had someone famous come through my line before.”

“First time for everything,” you winked, putting your card in the machine.

The cashier kept staring at you.

“No one is going to believe I met you,” she said eventually. “I wish I had my phone so I could take a selfie…”

“Want an autograph?” You asked as the machine chimed. “Don’t need a phone for that.”

Instead of answering, she scrambled to get some blank receipt paper and a pen and Joel could tell you were trying not to laugh. You wrote on the paper quickly and handed it back before giving the cashier a smile.

“You have a great day, Mina,” you said.

She looked up from the paper with wide eyes.

“How’d you know my name?”

You smiled a little bigger and nodded to her name badge.

“See you next time,” you said and she beamed.

“Shit like that is stopping,” Joel said once the two of you were safely back in your house, behind the gate and fence that surrounded your property. “You got no damn reason to take risks like that…”

“Yes I do,” you said, defiant, arms crossed.

“What,” he demanded. “What’s your damn reason.”

“I want to take care of my kid,” you stuck your chin out. “That means going to the grocery store sometimes. I’m sure that’s a new concept for you since I’m sure you subsist exclusively off fast food and have never thought about looking after anyone but yourself…”

Joel tightened his jaw, trying to keep the sharp stab of loss from showing on his face.

“You don’t need to go yourself,” he snapped. “Send someone.”

You stepped closer to him, close enough that he could smell your skin, sweet and soft and he resented it.

“I want to take care of her,” you said. “Me. She lost her mother, the person who used to do shit like make her dinner and pick out her snacks. I want to do that for her. Me, not someone I pay. So you just need to accept the fact that I’m going to go to the store because I’m not stopping.”

“Fine,” he snapped, not about to admit that what you said tugged at him a bit. He remembered going to the store, looking for things that he thought Sarah might like. Things to put in her backpack so she had a snack for school when she got hungry between her afternoon classes or to have waiting for her when she got home. He remembered her favorite foods and how she lit up when he made burgers the way she liked or brought home her favorite cereal. He remembered how lucky he felt to be the person who got to know her in this way, to know her favorite things and be the one to get them for her. “But we’re doin’ it on my terms. This will be a whole lot easier on both of us as soon as you get with the program because I’m not letting you get us both killed because you’re stubborn. Got it?”

He laid out the rules: You were to never leave the house without him or whoever was filling in for him on his days off. You needed to run your proposed schedule for the week by him so he could make necessary changes - varying your comings and goings as much as possible so you would be unpredictable. You needed to give him full access to your property and any existing security infrastructure so he could check for possible weaknesses. And you needed a code name, one that would be used for the whole team so when there was a handoff or a situation that required additional security, communication was short and easily understood.

“That seems like overkill,” you rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I’m the fucking president…”

“When it’s a shit situation and we need to know who has you, we need it,” he said, harsher than he needed to. He was hard pressed to care, though. “We don’t need people stumbling over your name, not knowing if we’re using your first or last, and we really don’t need ‘em announcing your damn name where the wrong person could hear it and learn where you are.”

“Fine,” you said. “What are the rules for picking a code name then.”

“There aren’t any,” Joel said. “Yours is Siren.”

“Siren,” you looked at him, incredulous. “Seriously? I don’t get any say in this at all?”

“No,” he lied. “We pick for you and it’s Siren.” Your jaw twitched and Joel fought the urge to smirk. “What, don’t like it?”

You squared yourself, defiant.

“No, it’s perfect,” you said. “Derivative and dull, just what I’d expect from you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have real work to do.”

And with that, you stalked off to some far away corner of your massive fucking house, leaving the woman who’d answered the door for him that morning to show him around.

Joel tried to hide the almost spiteful sense of pride he got from getting under your skin. Because, fuck, if he had live with the reminder of that goddamn show then you had to, too.

He’d Googled you after he’d met you the day before, his chest tight the whole time. He saw your more recent film history and learned that you were older than he’d realized - you must have been in your 20s when you were playing a teenager on TV. He also learned that you didn’t talk much about the show that Sarah had loved so much and had made you a household name. He wondered if you loathed it as much as he did, if you got the same stomach churning feeling inside yourself when something made you think of it, the same one he got whenever he looked at your disturbingly perfect face.

Siren was the name of that goddamn show and the almost mocking nickname the male lead of the show had given your character, both of your characters fighting to make it as musicians in some bullshit story that was dramatized to hell and back. Joel recognized the guy, too - he was some fucking country star now, the kind who played bullshit instead of real country music - and he could feel, when he picked that name, that you’d hate it.

Normally, the person he was protecting got to pick their code name. But you didn’t know that and he needed to feel some sense of power over you. You loomed too large over him. He needed you to feel the way he did, a little helpless, a little out of control.

And you, stalking off in a huff over that damn name, made him feel better than it should.

Over the next week and a half, he was keenly aware that none of this, really, was your fault. It wasn’t your fault that you were tied so closely with his dead daughter. It wasn’t your fault that being around you was like living with an open wound, something tender and aching on him that he couldn’t seem to heal because you were near. It wasn’t your fault that he had gone through so much of the last five years numb to everything and now was almost shockingly aware of the constant pain that had been lingering below the surface.

But you were there and you were so much easier to blame than himself. He knew that, too. But it didn’t make him stop doing it, almost like he was watching himself make your life difficult without having any control over it.

He had to stay in your home to be available at all hours so he started getting up early to take your keys before you had a chance to make it downstairs in the morning so he could drive when taking Ellie to school. He made a habit of finishing the coffee when Esmo was busy elsewhere in the house and he knew you’d be coming back for another cup. He never accepted any kindness you offered, taking disconcerting pleasure in saying no lattes when you insisted on stopping for a coffee and telling you he didn’t want whatever food you offered him, choosing instead to eat frozen dinners alone in another part of the house away from you and Ellie and Esmo, too. He found a strange satisfaction in these small harms, as though they were earned in some way. You, embedded so deeply in the trappings of wealth and fame, surely deserved some inconvenience in your life. After all the pain you’d inadvertently caused him, it seemed like it was owed to him. He tried to ignore the fact that he didn’t like being the kind of person who took pleasure in hurting someone else who didn’t deserve it, even if it was only small hurts. He tried not to think about what Sarah would say if she could see what he was doing now.

Being away from you, though, made him more aware of it. The strange poison of wanting to make your life harder was further away when he was home and it was easier to see through it. You were probably dreading his return as much as he was dreading returning. He didn’t like who he became when he was near you and here he was, going back to the sphere of your influence to let it swallow him and turn him into a worse version of himself again.

Joel should tell Tommy to take him off this job. He knew that but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was never supposed to be this way with him and his brother. Joel was the older one, Joel was the one who had practically raised Tommy when their parents were gone. Tommy was never supposed to be the one to take care of him. He was never supposed to be the one to give him a fucking job or make sure he didn’t lose his house in the months after the death of his daughter. He owed his brother so much now. How could he tell him “Sorry, this simple job is just too much for me, find someone else.” Tommy asked Joel to protect you so he would.

Even if he hated it.

Dawn was just starting on the horizon when Joel decided to indulge himself for a minute, lying down gently on his daughter’s bed. He was careful to not disturb the blankets, he didn’t adjust the pillow. He let himself sink into the softness of her lavender sheets and twin-sized mattress, to be in the exact place she was the last morning of her life. He stared at the side of her nightstand - stickers she’d placed there starting to peel - and let himself remember what it was like to have someone as good as her love him.

He stayed there until her room as filled not with the artificial glow of streetlights but the unflinching light of day and got up as carefully as he lay down, going to the door and taking a last look at his daughter’s room on the morning of his fifth birthday since he’d stopped being a father, closing the door softly behind him.

The drive to your house went by too quickly for his liking and he pulled into the driveway at the same time you did, Seth - the guard who’d filled in for him while he had a few days off - laughing about something with you as the two of you got out of the car.

“Joel, good to see you man,” he said, still smiling as the two of you met Joel near your front door. “Ready to take over?”

“Don’t think I got much choice,” Joel said wryly.

“Good morning, Joel,” you said, your tone oddly cool. He just gave you a nod as Seth put the call in to dispatch.

“This is Cook,” Seth said. “Transferring custody of Siren to Big Miller.”

“Big Miller?” Your eyebrows shot up, looking between Seth and Joel. Seth covered the receiver on the phone.

“We got two Millers, he’s the older one,” he said, before going back to the call. “That’s correct…”

“Big Miller,” you smirked at Joel. “Oh there’s so much I can do with that…”

“Jesus,” Joel muttered as Seth handed him the phone. He confirmed he was taking over and ground his teeth as Seth hugged you goodbye like the pair of you were old fucking friends.

“Don’t let this asshole push you around too much,” Seth winked at you. “Deep down, he’s a big softie.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s a big something,” you said. Seth laughed. Joel glared. “See you next time.”

You watched Seth leave before heading into your house without another word. Joel followed you inside, trailing behind you as you otherwise ignored his presence, going to the kitchen to get a bottle of water before heading out back.

“Hey,” he called after you and you stopped at the edge of your pool, slowly turning to face him, brows raised. “The hell you goin’? I need your itinerary for the week, you know the drill.”

“No you don’t,” you said. “I decided I’d rather talk with someone who isn’t a huge fucking child so I gave it to Seth. Get it from him, Big Miller.”

You kept going, toward the pool house and Joel ground his teeth, jogging to catch up with you.

“Look,” he snapped but you rounded on him.

“You lied to me,” you said. “I could have picked my own stupid name, you just had to get the one up on me for whatever reason and now I have to deal with being called that stupid, goddamn…”

“If you and Seth are so cozy why didn’t you get him to change it for you, hm?” He cut you off.

“Because I’d rather not look like a fucking idiot to your entire company, thanks though,” you snapped. “If you hate me so much, why didn’t you just ask someone else to do this job?”

“If you hate havin’ me around, why didn’t you ask someone else to take over?” He countered. “Looked cozy enough with fuckin’ Seth!”

You laughed.

“Oh I’d never dream of giving you that satisfaction,” you said. “You want to torment me? Fine, two can play at that game. Just wait, you ain’t seen nothing yet, Big Miller.”

You stalked off toward the pool house again before turning back to face him.

“We’re leaving at noon,” you said. “If you want to know where to, better call fucking Seth and find out since you don’t have the people skills to get your charge to cooperate.”

He grit his teeth as you went inside and he stared at the door you’d disappeared through for a moment, half expecting you to come back out and rip into him again. But you didn’t and he went inside, finding Esmo in the kitchen cleaning up from breakfast.

“She’s in a fuckin’ mood,” Joel muttered, going to help himself to a cup of coffee.

“It was not an easy morning,” she said, holding a plate with a biscuit out to him. He took it with a frown. “Ellie’s a teenaged girl but even so…”

“What happened?” He asked, settling in at the breakfast bar.

“Not sure what set her off,” she sighed, putting the last pan in the drying rack before crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter, watching Joel. She reminded him of his mother, he realized, something grounding and sure about her. “But before they left, Ellie yelled that she wasn’t her mother. She didn’t say anything back but I could tell it hurt.”

Joel flinched, looking out the window at the back of the kitchen, toward the pool and pool house. Toward you. He and Sarah had rarely clashed, especially that badly, but she was still a teenaged girl who grew up without a mother. She still lashed out about it and he was still the one who had to weather her rage. He knew her pain was misdirected but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I know you two don’t…” She paused, like she was searching for the words. “Get along. But she is just as human as you or I, Mr. Miller. Go easy on her today.”

“Told you, you can just call me Joel,” he said, dodging the rest of what she said. “I ain’t your boss, not gonna make you call me Mr. Miller…”

Esmo barked a laugh as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“What?” He frowned.

“Do you think she makes me call her ma’am?” She asked. “Mr. Miller, she is my employer. I am not going to call her by her first name, regardless of what she asks. Right now, the same goes for you.”

He looked toward the pool house again. He’d assumed you’d told Esmo to call you ma’am, that you’d insisted on bullshit that put you on a different level than everyone else. Apparently, he was wrong.

That didn’t mean he had to like you, though.

Still, he almost felt bad for you as he got settled back into the room at your house that had become his. You’d been thrown into parenthood head first, none of the gradual build up that raising a child from birth provided. Instead, you were given a fully-fledged teenager with a chip on her shoulder. Anyone would struggle with that, even spoiled movie stars.

His patience wore thin, though, as noon came and went and you still hadn’t come in from the damn pool house. He wondered if you’d told him noon just to piss him off, to make him feel like he had to spend his morning biding his time until it was wasted only to do nothing but sit at home until the time came to pick up Ellie from school.

Eventually, he got tired of waiting for you and he stalked to the pool house, damn near ripping the door off its hinges as he went to find you, his eyes widening in surprise when he did.

Joel wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find there but it certainly wasn’t this. You were there, back to the door, headphones covering your ears as you swung again and again at a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

“Hey!” He called but you either ignored him or couldn’t hear them, continuing your clumsy barrage on the bag. You clearly knew fuck all about fighting, your form rough and disjointed. Any punch you landed would be ineffectual at best, damaging to you at worst. It’d be comical if it wasn’t happening to someone whose safety he was responsible for.

“Hey!” He tried again. Nothing. He clenched his jaw and stalked over to you, hand closing around the band of your headphones to pull them off your head and you spun, breathless and shocked, to face him.

“What the fuck?” You reached to snatch the headphones back but he held them behind his back, out of reach. “Gimme those!”

“You actually got some place to fuckin’ be this afternoon or not?” He snapped. “Because I’m tired of waiting for you to get your act together…”

You stopped reaching for the headphones, still breathless, and checked your smart watch.

“Shit,” you panted, drooping a little. “I lost track of time… Give me 15 minutes, then we’ll go.”

He held the headphones out to you and you snatched them back roughly and Joel watched you stomp off toward the main house, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck and he tried loathe the way your leggings hugged every curve and arch of your legs and ass as you did.

You were ready to go in just 15 minutes, though, and still more beautiful than Joel was comfortable with you being. You smelled fresh, clean, some floral fucking body wash on your skin that was covered by more skin-tight athletic wear that revealed your shape to him, all the places that - were you any other woman - he’d want to sink his fingers into to pull you close. He clenched his jaw and he went to the driver’s seat but you stopped in front of him, staring him down.

“Not sure where you think you’re going,” you said.

“I’m driving,” he said. “You know the drill.”

“Oh, so you called Seth?” You asked, brows raised. “Know where we’re headed?”

He narrowed his eyes and you smirked.

“Didn’t think so,” you said. “Step aside, Big Miller. Maybe you can drive home.”

Joel considered, for a moment, fighting you on it. But, today of all days, he didn’t have the energy. He just stalked around to the passenger side of the car, trying his damndest to ignore the little smirk you got when he did.

He stared determinedly out the window as you drove, the odd, raw feeling he got in his chest when he looked at you a little too sharp today. He focused on the cars around him, watching for any kind of pattern, anything unusual, trying to lose himself in the work of keeping you alive. At least, then, he was still good at something. At least, then, there was still some purpose for him being here. Even if he didn’t want to be. The scar that had been at his temple for nearly five years itched.

He was so lost in it that he was almost surprised when you pulled up in front of not some insufferable coffee shop or unnecessary grocery store but an overpriced looking nursing home. You reached between Joel’s legs without a word and got your worn baseball cap from the glove box, tugging it down low over your face before grabbing your keys out of your bag and dropping them on Joel’s lap.

“Get comfy,” you said. “I’ll be at least an hour, probably two.”

“Hold on,” he said, but you ignored him, getting out of the car and heading toward the door. He caught you quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you around go face him.

“What is your problem?” You snapped. “You’re always an asshole but Jesus you’re worse than usual today…”

“You really think I’m just gonna let you go do some photo-op alone?” He asked. “Not about to just wait in the car…”

“It’s not a photo-op,” you snapped. “It’s private, you don’t need to be involved…”

“The hell I don’t,” he snapped back. “Your ass dies and it ain’t private anymore. I’m going. Deal with that shit now.”

“Too bad for you,” you said, trying to pull your arm back from him but he held firm. Your clumsy little fight moves from the pool house earlier hadn’t done you any favors.

“You can either listen to me or I’ll put you over my shoulder and make you listen,” he said. “I don’t much care which it is.”

You stared him down, almost like you thought he wouldn’t do it. He was about to prove you wrong when you apparently decided instead, huffing indignantly.

“Fine,” you snapped. “You can sit in the lobby.”

“Fine,” he snapped back before following you inside.

A woman rushed to meet you at the door, speaking to you in hushed tones that even Joel, standing so close to you, had a hard time making out. She directed Joel to a comfortable looking room that reminded him of his grandmother’s living room as a child, the one that no one was allowed in to “keep the furniture nice.” There were no such concerns here, the arm chairs and couches looking comfortable and inviting if overly ornate, neat stacks of magazines on the antique coffee table in the middle of them. He ground his teeth, watching as the woman led you away.

You’d be out of sight. That made him uncomfortable. And he couldn’t trust you to actually call for help if you needed it. That made him more uncomfortable.

But… this wasn’t an especially public place. There was security keeping people out and the residents in. Chances were, there wasn’t anything that could really get to you in here. And if this wasn’t some bullshit media thing, it was probably fine to leave you to your own devices. At least for a little while.

So he settled on the couch, keeping an eye on the front doors while he absently picked up a magazine, some kind of trashy tabloid that Sarah used to flip through at the grocery store. It used to make him roll his eyes and tell her that she was rotting her brain and now he’d give anything to go back in time and buy out every newsstand he passed if it meant he got another 20 minutes waiting in line for to pay for groceries with her.

He wasn’t paying close enough attention to the magazine he picked up, though, and then bam, there you were yet again. Your picture was blurry and you were wearing sunglasses that were a little too big for your face and there was an iced coffee cup dangling from your hand.

Bombshell breakup the headline under your picture said. Hollywood’s brightest star back on the market!

Joel looked at the date, from almost a year ago now, and flipped to the pages about you. There were pictures of you walking with a woman who looked something like an older, red-headed version of Ellie and he realized he was looking at her mother. Your arms were crossed tightly over your stomach and your face was drawn, Ellie’s mother’s face concerned. It was strangely intimate, seeing you like this. It wasn’t like other paparazzi pictures of you he’d seen, the ones that looked somewhat staged or like you’d at least known you were being photographed. This seemed like an intrusion, something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing.

He looked at the pictures of you and Ellie’s mother for a while. He wasn’t sure how long, not really able to look away, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly when he answered.

“Hello Mr. Miller,” Esmo said, her tone still uncomfortably formal. “I apologize for just reaching out like this but I know she’s visiting her mother right now so her phone is off and we just got a call from the school…”

“Wait, what?” Joel cut her off. Your mother? That couldn’t be right.

“Yes,” she said, sounding impatient. “The school, apparently Ellie was in a fight and she needs to be picked up, can you please tell her and take care of things?”

“She OK?” Joel asked, trying not to overthink the sharp little stab of fear in his chest at the thought of Ellie in a fight. He tried not to think about getting his hands on whatever little teenaged prick decided to fight her, either.

“She’s fine,” Esmo said. “At least, that’s what the school said. She just needs to be picked up. Can you go get her?”

“Yeah,” he said after a second. “Course, I got it.”

“Thank you,” she said, relieved. “I appreciate it.”

Joel’s jaw tightened as he dropped that old magazine on the coffee table before stalking off in the direction he’d watched you go before.

It didn’t take him long to find you, tucked away in a small and private visitation room, deck of cards sitting on the table between you and a woman who looked a lot like you, some of the cards fanned out in your hand.

“Do you have any fives?” The woman - your mother - asked.

“You asked me that before,” you said, an oddly tense but gentle edge to your voice. “Why don’t you ask about another one?”

“Oh,” she frowned at her hand. “How about… tens?”

“Damn,” you said, handing her a card. She smiled.

“You shouldn’t curse, you know,” she said. “It makes you sound dumb.”

“I’ve heard that,” you said, arranging the cards in your hand. “Any eights?”

She paused for a moment, examining her cards.

“What was that again?” She said after a moment.

“Eights,” you repeated.

“Go fish,” she said and you got a card from the top of the pile. “You know, you remind me of my daughter…”

“Do I?” You said, your tone oddly even.

“She’s an actress,” she nodded. “She’s only a teenager though, a lot younger than you. She’s pretty like you, though.”

“An actress, hm?” You said. “Does she like it?”

“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “But she’s good at it. Not sure she can handle the hard parts, though.”

“You’re probably right,” you said. “She can’t.”

“Hello,” your mother said, looking up at Joel and lowering her cards. “Are you here to play, too?”

You noticed him then, your back going stiff, shifting uncomfortably in your chair when you did.

“Fraid not,” Joel said. “Just need to talk to… my friend here.”

You looked back at him then, frowning but he just jerked his head toward the door. You, at least, didn’t question it, just setting the cards face down on the table and joining him.

“Can I help you?” You asked, brows raised expectantly.

“Now, I already asked and she’s fine,” he said, which made your eyes go wide but he held up a hand. “Ellie got in a fight at school, we gotta go pick her up…”

“Shit,” you swore, fishing your phone from some hidden pocket in your leggings at the small of your back and turning it on. It took a moment but you groaned. “Fuck, I have six missed calls…”

You stashed the phone again and went back to the table, your mother frowning at you as you gathered up the cards.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I have to go,” you said. “They’ll have someone come bring you back in a minute.”

“It’s very rude to just take off on someone, you know,” she said sternly.

“Been told that, too,” you said. “You have a good day.”

She grunted, crossing her arms and turning away from you. You didn’t take the bait, just going for the door and quickly leading the way back to the car. But, for a change, you went for the passenger side.

“What?” You said. “You do know the way to the school, don’t you?”

“I know it,” he muttered, getting behind the wheel.

“Good,” you said, buckling in. “Then drive.”

You checked your phone, shaking your head, before just staring out the window.

“So,” Joel said eventually. “That’s your mom.”

“In the most technical sense,” you said, not looking at him. He nodded slowly anyway. “I don’t really think of her that way.”

“Why’s she in there?” Joel asked.

“Why do you care?” You said, incredulous, finally looking at him. He glanced at you and then shrugged and you sighed, the sound heavy. “Early onset Alzheimers. She’s 67 now, it started about five years back. I try to see her once a month or so.”

“Don’t you got the money to get her a nurse or some shit so she could stay with you?” He frowned.

“It’s really not any of your fucking business, is it?” you snapped before sighing, pinching the bridge of your nose and wincing as Joel pulled into the parking lot of the school. “Please don’t mention of this to Ellie. She doesn’t know anything about my mother and I’d like it to stay that way.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, all but leaping out of the car the second he put it into park and going quickly for the front door of the school. Joel had to run to catch up with you, barely catching you as the two of you were buzzed into the building where the headmistress met you.

She greeted you the same way Esmo did and Joel could tell, now that he knew you didn’t like it, that it put you on edge. It made him stiffen at your back, narrowing his eyes at the prim and proper woman in front of him, assessing her differently now than the last time you’d met. She was a threat now, she’d upset you, she’d opposed Ellie and he was oddly comforted that he knew he could easily overpower her if he needed to.

He frowned ever so slightly.

Why would he need to? She was a fucking teacher. And why should he care so much that she pissed you off?

“Ms. Stark,” you said, giving her a firm nod. “Where’s Ellie?”

“In my office,” she said. “Please, follow me.”

She led the way, setting a brisk pace, her back ramrod straight, but you kept your head high as you kept pace alongside her.

“What happened?” You asked. “This is very out of character for Ellie.”

“I’m not so sure it is,” the headmistress said and Joel could have sworn he saw the hint of a self-righteous smile on her lips and he clenched his jaw. “She’s… aggressive…”

“She’s strong,” you said sharply. “But she wouldn’t pick a fight without a reason.”

“Well, she has yet to tell us a reason,” she said, smug. “Maybe you can find one. This behavior may have been accepted at other institutions but we hold our students to a higher standard here…”

“I’ll talk to her,” you said. “I’m sure we can figure this out.”

Joel was half expecting you to make him wait outside the office like you had at the nursing home but you didn’t and he followed you, the principal’s office looking disturbingly more like a luxury hotel than a school.

Ellie was sitting on one end of a small row of chairs in the office waiting room, her arms crossed and her jaw set tight. A boy - about her age and far larger than her - sat at the other end, an ice pack clutched to his lower lip and blood dripping from his nose.

“Ellie,” you said, all but running for her, kneeling in front of her and brushing her hair back from her face. “Are you OK?”

She jerked away from you.

“Fine,” she muttered. “I just want to go home.”

“OK,” you nodded slowly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

She just looked to the side, tightening her arms around herself. You stood and sighed, still watching her but Joel looked to the boy sitting at the other end of the row. He was determinedly staring straight ahead but his eyes kept darting over to you, a deep blush rising in his cheeks. Joel’s eyes narrowed.

“We can’t just permit students to attack other students,” the headmistress said. “Especially not unprovoked…”

“It wasn’t unprovoked!” Ellie snapped, her head whipping around to look at the boy. “He knows what he did.”

“Miss Williams,” the headmistress said sharply. “You nearly broke a fellow student’s nose.”

“Well, he’s a pussy!” Ellie yelled. “Not my fault he got his ass handed to him by a girl!”

“Ellie!” You scolded.

“What! It’s true,” she said, calming. “Lucky I didn’t do more…”

The headmistress looked at you, a small, self-satisfied smile on her face.

“Because this is her first offense, she’s suspended for a week,” she said. “But if it happens again, we will have to expel her.”

“We’ll take care of it,” you said before turning your attention back to Ellie. “C’mon, troublemaker, let’s go.”

She shoved herself out of the chair and grabbed her backpack sharply from the floor. The boy at the other end of the chairs watched her and she lunged in his direction before pulling back, making him jump.

“Yeah, better be fuckin’ scared,” she snapped.

“Alright,” you said sharply, putting your hands on her shoulders and steering her out of the room. “That’s enough, let’s go.”

Joel gave the kid a final look, one that was apparently enough to make him stare straight ahead again, shrinking in his seat as he did. Satisfied, Joel followed you and Ellie to the car, the girl throwing her backpack in with a little too much force.

Mercifully, you just went for the passenger seat, saving Joel the fight about driving. You immediately turned to face the disgruntled teenager behind you.

“Want to tell me what the fuck that was?” You asked.

“That was a fight,” Ellie said, the sass in her voice thick. “One I won, by the way.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you said. “Kid, you can’t just do stuff like that for no reason! What were you thinking?”

“It wasn’t no reason!” She replied.

“OK then what was the reason?” You said. “I’m dying for you to enlighten me because there had better be some kind of reason why you’d go after a classmate like that!”

“Why do I need to tell you the fucking reason?” She demanded. “You don’t need to know the reason, you just need to trust me when I say I had one!”

“I do trust you!” You said. “But that school doesn’t! They don’t know you yet! They don’t know how smart and kind and funny you are, all they know is that you refused to follow the dress code on day one and now that you beat people up when you don’t get your way!”

“I didn’t hit him because I didn’t get my way!” She yelled. “I did it because…”

Her voice trailed off, seeming to realize what she was about to say just as she said it. You gave her a minute to say it, anyway, but she didn’t.

“Tell me a reason, Ellie,” you said gently. “Because there has to be a reason. God, I sure hope there is because I’d rather not have to donate a library to some stuffy school every time you decide to throw a tantrum…”

“Oh, yeah, because you’ll just use your fucking money to fix everything,” Ellie snapped. “But you didn’t use it to save my mom! No, you just let her die.”

Joel caught a glimpse of your face at that, looking less like you’d been yelled at by a teenager and more like someone had slapped you.

“I tried, honey,” you said gently. “I tried so hard to save your mom, I helped get her the best doctors, I helped get her into the best facilities but sometimes it’s just beyond what we can do as people.”

“Whatever,” Ellie snapped as Joel pulled into the driveway. She jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind her and you followed after her.

“Is that what this is about?” You asked. “Is it because you miss your mom? Because I get that, I miss her too, so much that sometimes I want to burn something down, but…”

“But she was your friend!” She rounded on you. “And she was my fucking mom, stop acting like you know how I feel because you don’t know how I fucking feel!”

“Ellie,” you said gently. “I know it’s hard, and…”

“No, you don’t know!” She snapped. “Stop it! Just leave me alone!”

She started stomping off to her room but you stayed close behind.

“We can talk about…”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” She yelled. “I don’t want to look at you or talk to you or do anything with you! I wish it was you who died instead of her!”

You froze where you stood and Ellie took advantage of your stillness to stomp off back to her bedroom, the door slamming in her corner of the house.

“Yeah, me too,” you said, so quietly that Joel doubted that you knew he could hear you.

He was quiet for a moment, staring where Ellie had gone, hoping she’d come back for both your sakes. But she didn’t.

“Teenagers are hard,” Joel said eventually. “Sure she didn’t mean that…”

“Oh please, I know you’re just loving this,” you said harshly. “I don’t need your fake pity, Joel. I have interviews, stay out of my office.”

You left without another word, the click of your door much quieter than Ellie’s had been.

“That went well,” Esmo sighed, catching Joel off guard.

“Sure it’ll pass,” Joel said gruffly. He wasn’t sure why his chest got tight as he looked toward your office. He didn’t care about you beyond needing to keep you alive and he only needed do that because of everything he owed his brother. Besides, you were just some spoiled, pampered celebrity. Surely you could use something pushing back on you for a change.

“Dinner tonight is roast chicken,” Esmo said, heading toward the kitchen.

Joel frowned.

“Why are…”

“I know why you don’t usually eat with us, Mr. Miller,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at him, her eyes narrowed. “She won’t be joining us, her calendar is full until after 10. Don’t pretend that you enjoy those freezer burnt blocks of garbage you call food more than a home cooked meal, I don’t like liars.”

She disappeared to the kitchen, the rattle of pots and pans following not long after and Joel sighed, settling in on the couch to kill time instead of disappearing to his room on the other side of the house.

But, to his surprise, Ellie emerged just an hour later, in jeans a t-shirt instead of her uniform now, creeping into the living room like she was expecting someone to jump out at her.

“She ain’t here,” Joel said, making her jump. “Sorry, kiddo, wasn’t tryin’ to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” she sighed, coming in and flopping on the loveseat. “Where is she?”

“Doin’ interviews in her office, I guess,” Joel said. She nodded slowly, staring determinedly at the coffee table.

The two of them sat quietly for a moment before this strange tug at the center of him to take care of her - something that was so foreign now but still so familiar - made him clear his throat and break the silence.

“Want… want to talk about anything?” He asked.

“Like?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Like why you decided to beat up some boy at school,” he shrugged. “Or why you decided to say something that mean to one of the only people who really cares about you. Because that didn’t seem much like you.”

She scoffed.

“What do you know?”

He shrugged.

“Enough to know that you act tough but that you ain’t an asshole.”

“Ain’t isn’t a word,” she said.

Joel just shrugged again, going back to his phone.

Eventually, Ellie sighed heavily.

“That fucking boy,” she spat the word as though it were curse word, not the f-bomb she’d dropped a second earlier. “Figured out who she was. Saw her dropping me off at school earlier this week and started talking about shit like ‘your mom is so hot, why aren’t you’ and when that didn’t really bother me started saying shit like ‘I’ve seen your mom’s tits’ and called her a whore and I just… he fucking deserved it, OK? And I’m not about to apologize to that fucker just because the fucking school….”

“Alright,” Joel said gently, cutting her off. “I agree. He’s a jackass. You probably did the right thing.”

She looked surprised for a moment but it passed quickly.

“That’s why I couldn’t tell her what happened,” Ellie said. “Because do you know how fucking creepy it is, knowing that every guy in your stupid school has probably jerked it to your aunt? It’s fucking gross. I don’t want to talk about that shit with her.”

Joel nodded slowly.

“So, what, you decided to take it out on your aunt when you got home?” He asked.

“No,” she said, defensive. “I just… I know she loves my mom… Loved my mom… So why didn’t she… I don’t know, just… why didn’t she fix it? She has all this fucking money and knows all these fucking people, why didn’t she fix it? She can do everything else, why couldn’t she do that one thing?”

“You really think she didn’t try?” Joel asked gently. “Look, I don’t really know her but I can tell she loves you something fierce and I’m guessin’ that’s because she loved your mama something fierce, too. Just… sometimes, there’s shit that money can’t fix.” Without meaning to, he remembered holding his daughter as she bled out in his arms. He remembered begging whatever god might be listening to do anything to fix it. That he’d give anything, do anything, to fix it. It hadn’t made a damn difference. “Trust me. Sometimes power and money just don’t mean shit.”

She shrugged and picked at some unseen thing on the couch.

“Not my business,” Joel shrugged. “Just seems like you’re making her miserable because someone else is bein’ an asshole.”

“Think she’s mad at me?” Ellie asked quietly, looking over at him, her dark eyes soft.

“If she is, she’s not actually mad,” he said. “Just hurt. You said some shitty stuff, kid.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighed, looking toward the hall that led to your office. “I fucked up.”

Joel shrugged again.

“Everyone does.”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?” She asked. “Don’t you usually hide in your room when you’re not following us around?”

He didn’t want to admit to hiding from the visions of his daughter that so often plagued him on his birthday, so he just shrugged instead.

“Well, I got this new video game while you were off,” she said. “Want to kill some zombies and shit with me?”

“Don’t you got homework or something?” He asked, brows raised.

“I’m suspended, remember?” She said.

“You really think either of them are gonna let that stand?” Joel asked. “Between your aunt and Esmo, you’re gonna be back in that school before you know it.”

She snorted.

“Probably right,” she said. “Still. Wanna play?”

He examined her for a moment, the hopeful look in her eyes as she watched him in return.

It had been so long since anyone had wanted something like this with him, some kind of connection, some kind of approval, some kind of emotional investment. It made his chest get tight and his first instinct was to tell her no, to stalk off to his bedroom and close the door and keep himself far away from anything like that… but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when she so clearly needed it.

“Yeah, alright,” he said. “Gotta get all that shit set up, though, don’t exactly play a bunch of video games…”

She scoffed.

“I’m sure you don’t, old man.”

Ellie gave him a controller and, as the two of them ran through some virtual desert to collect supplies and shoot zombies, he had the fleeting thought that making her smile made this the best birthday he’d had in more than five years.

***

“Thank you for having me!” You smiled brightly, hoping it still reached your eyes after faking your way through this for hours. Fuck, your Oscar should be for this shit, not your film roles. “It’s been so fun. Hope to see you at the movies!”

“See you there!” The spunky entertainment reporter on the other end of the connection said before the stream cut off. You let the smile slip the moment you knew no one but Quinn was left on the screen, grabbing your water bottle from just out of sight and chugging half of it.

“You did great,” she said, looking at notes on her end. “Hit all the big talking points, great lead in for the main junket kicking off soon.”

“Can’t wait,” you said wryly. Quinn gave you a look and you just shrugged. “What? I don’t get paid to act like I enjoy this shit with you, just with all the reporters.”

“Well, it looks like you won’t be flying solo on at least the LA portion of this junket,” she said and you frowned. Quinn answered the question before you had a chance to ask it. “Looks like Chris Reese will be with you…”

You groaned.

“Seriously?” You asked. “I have to be in LA and I have to deal with that jackass?”

“Have worse chemistry with him and then you won’t have to do shit like press with him,” she said. You glared at her. “What? I get paid to spin shit for the reporters, not for you.”

“Ha ha,” you said and she smirked.

“It’s not so bad,” she said. “Just two days of interviews. And they want you to do a few of TikTok trends for promos…” you groaned again. “Going to pretend like I didn’t hear that and just say that you’re looking forward to reconnecting with your costar.”

“Oh yeah, can’t wait,” you rolled your eyes.

“Also,” Quinn said, steadfastly ignoring you. “I just emailed you part of the script for Savage Starlight, they want you to do some chemistry reads while you’re out that way. They think they have a casting choice for the young version of yourself and you’ll have one dream sequence scene with her that’s going to be pretty important to the story, I guess… fuck if I know. They want to make sure the two of you fit well. They’re also looking at a few guys for your love interest… couple unknowns, Ryan Smythe and Chris Pine are all in the mix.”

You nodded slowly.

“Ryan’s not bad,” you said. “I haven’t worked with him but we’ve met a few times and I like his work. Surprised he’s drawn to a project like this…”

“I’m surprised you’re drawn to a project like this,” Quinn said.

You shot her a glare.

“…But I wouldn’t mind working with him,” you continued like she hadn’t spoken at all. “Pine is a shock, I think he’d have gotten enough of playing second fiddle to a woman superhero after Wonder Woman.”

Quinn shrugged.

“Maybe he’s just in his big time feminist era, not arguing with that. Plus, he’s good.”

“Oh, he’s great,” you said. “The best of the Chrises. Unlike Reese…”

“Oh, suck it up,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s not that bad.”

“He’s obnoxious,” you said. “You don’t have to deal with him like I do.”

“No, but I have to deal with his manager,” she replied. “I’ll trade you. At least Reese is nice to look at.”

“Yeah, he knows it, too,” you said.

“When you’re out here, we’ll have to have to have lunch,” she said “You’re my favorite client, I miss you.”

“You say that to all your clients.”

“Yes, but I lie when I say it to the rest them,” she smiled a little. “OK I’m going to let you go get some sleep. I’ll send you an itinerary for your trip out here and I’ll share it with the security outfit, too. Speaking of which, tell that bodyguard of yours happy birthday.”

You frowned.

“It’s his birthday?” You asked. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“Come on,” she scoffed. “You know I ran a full investigation on the man I knew would be protecting you. I’m not stupid. Anyway, tell him happy birthday for me and take care of yourself, OK?”

“Will do. And you, too,” you said, hanging up and letting your forehead droop to your desk with a groan.

You were exhausted. Even before the Ellie shit you’d been exhausted and all you’d wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep all day.

Of course, you didn’t get to do that. Instead, you listened to the most important person in your life tell you that she wished you were dead before you had to go give the same goddamn interview to a dozen different broadcast outlets.

You’d closed yourself in your office and let yourself cry for a while before you forced yourself to stop long enough to do your hair and makeup and make sure you looked at least somewhat presentable before the first interview. And then you faked a smile for hours, talking about the last movie you made before your best friend died, trying not to think about leaving set every day to go see Anna in hospice, always afraid that it would be the last time you’d get to see her.

Esmo had sent you texts while you were stuck in interview hell, telling you when Ellie had eaten, done her homework and gone to bed. She’d also reached out to the school to discuss bringing her back sooner and said she would tell you what she’d gotten out of them the next day.

You weren’t sure what you’d done to deserve her but, in that moment, you felt like you owed her your life. Because someone needed to look out for Ellie, even when she wouldn’t let you do it yourself.

At least, now that it was late, the main part of the house should be empty. Esmo had gone home, Ellie was asleep, Joel liked to avoid every part of the house where he might run into people unless he absolutely had to be there. The last thing you felt like doing was getting into it with your niece or faking a smile for Esmo or putting up with Joel’s shit.

Your bodyguard exhausted you. He’d seemed to make it his own, personal mission to get under your skin. Sure, maybe you hadn’t given him the warmest welcome - you still weren’t thrilled about having to have a bodyguard in the first place - but that hardly seemed to warrant the degree to which he’d been poking and prodding at you in the two weeks he’d been working for you.

Joel had figured out quickly that he had a lot of power over you, somehow keenly aware that you weren’t about to complain to his boss about him or try to get him kicked off the job. What you didn’t get was why he seemed to be so fucking miserable to be assigned to you to begin with.

It’s not like he’d never been a bodyguard before, it’s not like this was new fucking territory for him. He just seemed to hate you personally.

You’d tried to change that for the first week or so. Yes, you’d gotten off on the wrong foot and you could take the blame for that. You were willing to give him some time to get it out of his system. You tried to reach out, to see what food he liked so you could update the dinner menus to his liking or to buy him coffee when you insisted on stopping to get one - much to his chagrin. You tried to even go along with some of his demands so his job was a little easier - things that wouldn’t have you losing as much of your autonomy, at least - but he didn’t seem to appreciate any of it. And then Seth, the other guard, was with you and you realized just how much Joel must absolutely loathe you.

Seth was much easier going. He let you drive without argument. He had dinner with you, Ellie and Esmo every night. He smiled and laughed and mentioned that he was surprised you picked Siren of the name options for you. You’d managed to hide your surprise at that, not wanting to give away just how much his coworker seemed to enjoy humiliating you.

Of course Joel had to come back on what had quickly devolved into the worst day you’d had since Anna died. Of course he’d seen just what Ellie said, of course he had some new way to make you feel like shit. Happy fucking birthday to him.

The pinch of tears had returned to the back of your throat but you swallowed them. You needed to eat something. You needed to go take off all this fucking makeup. You needed to actually sleep in your own damn bed because sleeping anywhere else would be strange and you couldn’t give Joel more ammunition to use against you or give Ellie any reason to feel worse.

So you forced yourself to go to the kitchen to get the plate Esmo had made for you out of the fridge, your feet heavy, the house dark. The light was on in the pool, the reflection from the water casting lines over the ceiling of your living room and you considered, for a moment, just how easy it’d be to go outside, jump into the water and let it swallow you. But you couldn’t do that. Ellie needed you, whether she liked it or not, and there was a whole staff of people who relied on you for their livelihood. Giving up wasn’t an option. Not for you. So you kept going, like you always did.

The kitchen was dark, too, but the smell of coffee was fresh and strong as you opened the fridge, the light oddly bright compared to the darkness of your house. You found the plate Esmo had left you, a chicken thigh and roasted broccoli piled high. You pulled the plastic wrap back, bumping the fridge closed with your hip as you did.

“Should pay more attention.”

You yelped, jumping and looking around before you realized that, at the end of your breakfast bar, was the hulking figure of your bodyguard, sitting in the dark.

“Jesus Christ,” you said, heart pounding. You set the plate on the counter and stalked to turn on the lights before rounding on him. “What the fuck are you doing, sitting here in the dark? Just lurking to try to fuck with me in some new way or what?”

“No,” he said and there was something so honest in his voice that you couldn’t help but believe him. “Didn’t feel like sleepin’, so…”

He shrugged and you just nodded, going to put your dinner in the microwave.

“Well, you can have the kitchen to yourself again in a minute,” you said, leaning against the counter and facing Joel, your arms crossed over your stomach.

The frustrating thing was, if he wasn’t such an asshole, Joel would be an attractive man. He was handsome, unquestionably so, in a way that would be sculpted out of marble in a bygone time. He was handsome and tall and broad and there was something about his presence - no matter how antagonistic he seemed to get - that made you feel safe. It was something that you thought went past the fact that he was paid to protect you, something in you that said that, while he was here with you alone, while he could easily overpower you, you didn’t need to be afraid of him. He was safe.

Of course, maybe it was better if he was a dick. If he was kinder, you’d probably end up half in love with him, a recipe for disaster since he was your bodyguard.

“S’your house,” Joel shrugged. “I can go if you want space.”

“I don’t mind,” you said.

He just nodded, twisting his coffee mug in his hands.

“You alright?” He asked after a moment of quiet with nothing but the hum of the microwave between you. You raised your brows at him. “Just… you know… whole Ellie thing.”

You watched him for a moment, head cocked. Was he asking because he actually cared? Was he asking to try to find some new way to make you miserable? You weren’t sure.

“She’s a good kid,” he said when you’d been quiet a bit too long. “She didn’t… I know she didn’t mean what she said, she’s just bein’ a teenager, and…”

“How do you know?”

He frowned.

“Know what?”

“That she didn’t mean it,” you said. “How do you know?”

The microwave beeped and you got out your food. Joel, much to your surprise, pulled out the chair next to his at the breakfast bar before gripping his mug again, his fingers tight and strained against the ceramic. You took the seat, grabbing a fork and knife from the silverware drawer on the way.

“I talked to her a bit,” he said once you settled in next to him. He wasn’t looking at you, staring straight ahead instead. “She was… she was upset about other shit and took it out on you. Don’t make it right but… at least explains it.”

“What was she upset about?” You asked, cutting into the chicken and taking a bite. Even reheated it was delicious. God bless Esmo. “Was it the fight at school? Because she was in a mood this morning, too, and…”

“Yeah, think that fight’s been simmerin’ for a few days,” Joel said, taking a sip of coffee before glancing your way quickly.

“What was it?” You frowned. “Did she tell you? If it was a good reason, then…”

“She told me,” he cut you off, actually looking at you now. “Look… I’ll tell you, but I think it’s best if you keep it to yourself. I get why she’s pissed.”

You frowned.

“OK…”

“That fuckin’ kid she beat up,” he said, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Well… guess he recognized you…”

“Shit,” you sighed, dropping your fork to your plate to press the palm of your hand to your eye. Of course you were the root of this problem, too.

“Sounds like he thought you’re her mom,” he said. “Started askin’ her why she’s not as good looking as you and, when that didn’t get enough of a rise out of ‘er, started saying… other shit.”

You gave him a second to continue on his own but he didn’t.

“Other shit like what?” You asked. He flinched and looked down at his coffee cup. “Other shit like what, Joel.”

He sighed.

“Other shit like he’d seen your… chest,” he said, his cheeks getting red. “And he called you… well, somethin’ you don’t call a lady.”

“Jesus,” you slumped down in your seat. “Well, at least that explains why she was begging me to not be the one to drive her to school in the mornings anymore…”

“Sorry,” Joel said, his voice rough.

“I don’t blame her for taking the bait,” you sighed. “Lord knows I would have in her shoes… God, it must be embarrassing for her…”

“Like I said, she’s a good kid,” he said. “Don’t take one blow up too personally. Teenagers are… well, they’re teenagers.”

You watched him for a moment.

“Why do you know this stuff?”

His jaw tightened for a moment.

“Just do,” he said.

Something told you that wasn’t all there was to it but you didn’t pry. Instead, you ate your dinner in silence next to him, trying to think of ways to talk to the school to get Ellie back in without bringing up what she’d told Joel. You liked that she had an adult she apparently felt like she could talk to. She needed that, desperately, in her life. You’d prefer it was you - it had been you, once upon a time, back when you weren’t responsible for her - but you’d take what you could get.

“Can I ask what that punching bag out back did to piss you off?” He asked eventually.

You laughed a little.

“Nothing much,” you replied. “Wait… you sighed an NDA for this job, right?”

“Yeah,” he frowned, looking at you again. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t public yet,” you said. “But… Well, I’m trying to prep for a role.”

“A role,” he said. “What role?”

“You ever heard of the comic series Savage Starlight?” You asked. He nodded. “Well… I’m Starlight. Or, I will be. They’re going to officially announce it in a few months, once the rest of the main cast is settled. They’re starting me with a trainer to learn fight choreography in six weeks but I’ve never had a role with fight scenes like this one, I’m trying to make it so I’m not starting from scratch so I don’t look like a total idiot.”

“That don’t…” Joel paused. “Doesn’t seem like your kind of movie.”

“It’s not,” you said. “But Ellie loves the comics. They’re her favorite thing and… well, if I’m her favorite super hero, I can’t be all bad, right? So I just… I want to get it right.”

“Well, you’re doin’ it wrong,” Joel said. You narrowed your eyes, about to argue with him on it, but he cut you off. “Not trying to be mean. Your form was just… I can tell you haven’t really thrown a punch before. Nothin’ wrong with that. Or, well, there isn’t until you need to start fighting. You just need to be careful is all, otherwise you’re just gonna hurt yourself.”

You laughed a little.

“Of course,” you said wryly. “It only makes sense that I’m shit at that, too.”

“Not shit,” he said. You raised your eyebrows. “What? You’re not. Just not trained. I… I can help. If you wanted.”

“Really,” you asked, incredulous. “You’d help me train to fight.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Not like I don’t got the time. Besides, figure my job just gets harder if you’re in a damn cast because you busted your wrist throwin’ a bad punch.”

“Fair enough,” you said. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” he said, the two of you falling silent again. You picked at the chicken, not much of an appetite.

“Do you think,” you said, trailing off for a moment before looking at him again. “Do you think you could take Ellie to school when she starts back? I’m going to talk to the school again tomorrow, try to get her back in next week, but I don’t want to cause her more problems and…”

“Sure,” he said. “I… I don’t mind. She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” you agreed.

You finished what you could of your dinner and slid off the seat before cleaning up your dish, Joel frowning and watching as you did.

“What?” You asked. “You’re looking at me like I’m… I dunno, an alien or something.”

“Don’t you have people who do shit like clean up after you?” He asked. “Ain’t that part of Esmo’s job?”

“I mean, yeah,” you shrugged. “But I’m not about to leave my dirty dishes sitting out overnight for her to deal with when she gets here in the morning. I’m not an asshole.”

He seemed to process that as you loaded the dishwasher and chugged a final glass of water before putting the glass in the dishwasher, too.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” you said. “Been a hell of a day. Want me to turn the light off so you can sit in the dark with your coffee again?”

Joel just shrugged.

“Don’t really matter,” he said. “Good night.”

“Night,” you said, turning to go before you remembered what Quinn had told you. “Hey, actually, why didn’t you mention that today was your birthday?”

He flinched, the movement so fleeting you almost thought you imagined it, and you had the strangest desire to comfort him somehow. You just didn’t know why.

“Don’t like my birthday,” he said after a moment. “Not a lot of reasons to celebrate so I just don’t. Besides, don’t really like being the center of attention.”

You laughed a little at that.

“Yeah, I know the feeling. But… well, happy birthday, anyway. Thanks for looking after Ellie.”

He nodded slowly.

“Thanks,” he said. “It… it was nice.”

You wanted to say something else but you couldn’t think of what so instead, you turned out the light and left him there, drinking coffee from your favorite mug alone in the dark.

Next Chapter

A/N: So sorry for the eternity between chapters. I've just not been able to keep up with things lately. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.

I'm really enjoying their dynamic! Some active antagonism based in misunderstanding of motives, some mutual attraction, a lot of similar life experiences that they don't fully grasp yet. I just really love these two and I'm so excited to share where they're headed! Thanks for being here.

Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #The Savage and the Sanctuary

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ode2cheol · 1 year ago

Text

i want to spend this whole night with you ..

doctor!seungcheol x reader 4.3k words, fluff, minor angst, some jealousy, reader has a broken ankle, this is probably incredibly inaccurate.. based off the one week i spent doing work experience at a hospital, part of waves will take us far away series !

when you’d managed to wind up in the hospital for breaking your arm you were dreading it more than anything, that is until you were assigned to the young doctor who found you too pretty to ignore.

“mom i told you it’s fine. it’s probably just a little sprain it’s been worse before” there was honestly no point in trying to reason with your mother over the phone like this, you know she’d never give in.

you had to admit it did warm your heart hearing the concern in your mother’s voice, but not enough to convince you to head to the hospital. yes, your ankle felt like it was two minutes away from practically falling off of your limbs but you would’ve rather that than spend the next week in the hospital and the next few months having to go to regular check-ups.

“honey, nothing is going to happen to you at the hospital, please stop being paranoid. look, if you leave it any longer your it’ll probably get worse, you’re better off getting it done with now”

she had a point. if you put this off you might wind up having to stay there even longer. a deep breath escaped you as you nodded to yourself, “alright sure i’ll head to the hospital then”

limping as you got out of the taxi and through the hospital doors, you cringed at both the pain and the chemical scent of artificial fragrances hitting your nose. you rubbed the hand sanitizer into your hand while you both stood in a queue for the receptionist desk. two minutes and you already want to go home. great.

“yes, how can i help you?” the receptionist smiled at you, fingers already getting ready to search your name in the system.

“uh hi i booked an appointment for a sprained ankle” you told her handing over your ID.

the receptionist scanned it for a few seconds, the quick clicking of the keys catching you a little off guard. after you’d confirmed the details for her she handed you a small note with the room and doctor name.

you limped walked down the hospital wards, wincing while you searched for the room you were supposed to be in. the hospital was a lot busier today- at least compared to the last time you visited. to be fair that was at least two years ago so you wouldn’t know if this was considered busy anymore.

double checking the room number, you knocked the door pushing it open when, you’re assuming, dr lee let you in. he gave you a cheerful smile, motioning you to the seat while he took his own behind the computer.

“hi miss yn, you said you were here for a sprained ankle?” he waited for your nod, “no problem we just need to run a few tests to see how bad it is, if you’re fine you can be on your way within the hour”

the thought immediately lifted your mood. you spent the next few minutes going through the tests with dr lee, wincing whenever he touched a certain part of your ankle, feeling bad whenever he apologised profusely. he looked confused for a few seconds, checking back on the notes he was given on you, “miss, i’m afraid this isn’t a sprained ankle. from the looks of it i think it may be fractured, we’re going to have to run an x-ray”

he left the room for a few minutes to get everything for the x-ray ready, giving you a few minutes to wallow in your self pity. ‘great it just had to be fractured. walking around on it couldn’t have helped either..’

when dr lee returned he returned with someone else. you scanned his jacket for a name tag eyes relaxing as they set on the ‘dr choi’ in all caps.

‘dr choi’ smiled widely at you before shaking your hand, “hi i’m dr choi, unfortunately dr lee is being called in for something else so i’ll be taking over your x-ray if that’s fine with you?”

oh it was definitely fine with you.

you nodded, turning your head so you could focus on the clock rather than dr choi’s far too perfect face.

the x-rays technically went pretty quick but getting them done felt like hours. dr choi and his stupid too handsome face- “yn? yn you there?” your eyes went wide when you saw dr choi’s face only a few inches away from your own, apparently he’d been trying to get your attention for 30 seconds.

“you’ll have to wait about a half hour until the results come through so for now how about you just keep that ankle raised, alright? i’ll be here finishing your paperwork so if anything starts hurting a lot out of nowhere let me know. oh and i might need to be asking you a few questions too”

“oh that’s fine and thank you” you nodded as he smiled at you, wheeling his chair to the computer and loading up your file. the room was silent for a few minutes so you took it as an opportunity to text back your mom, assuring her everything was fine and that the doctor wouldn’t have to amputate your leg.

“so you thought it was a sprain?” dr choi’s deep voice cut through the silence making you sit up slightly as you answered him.

“oh yeah. it was pretty swollen and when i’d read up on it all i saw was that swelling was usually a sign of a sprain, thought it wasn’t too big a deal” you shrugged your shoulders. you saw an expression flick on seungcheol’s face for a split second; he looked- annoyed?

“if something like this happens again yn please don’t wait until the end to come here” he looked so serious. after seeing his intimidating stare, you wouldn’t have been able to say no if you wanted to.

“you sure you just don’t want to see me more often, dr choi?” you teased in hopes it would lighten the mood. as soon as the words left your mouth though you regretted it- what if you’d crossed a line? surely a doctor doesn’t want to flirt with a patient.

much to your surprise however, the young doctor only shot you a smile before speaking “since we’re probably going to be seeing each other often why don’t you just get used to calling me seungcheol?”

heat rose to your cheeks, dr choi- seungcheol, never wiping the grin off of his face. he only turned back to the computer after you nodded.

“how did you manage to do that to it anyway?” it took you a few seconds to register his question was referring to your ankle but you couldn’t stop yourself growing embarrassed when dwelling back on the memory.

“i uh..” you trailed off, looking to the side. why were you so nervous? you’d easily told anyone else so why were you embarrassed telling seungcheol. “just a little accident, i fell trying to reach something”

seungcheol looked at you unamused and you’d wished you had told him something else, now you just look like an idiot in front of him.

“when did that happen exactly?”

“uh about a week ago? something like that”

“you just walked on your ankle normally for a week?” you looked flustered at his tone, “well no wonder it ended up getting worse. if something like that happens yn you should at least book an appointment with your doctor if you don’t want to head here”

the way he talked to you, it sounded he was so caring. suppose that’s what you need as a doctor. still, even if it was part of his job, you couldn’t help the way he made your heart beat a little faster and cheeks grow a little warmer.

“sorry. the hospital just intimidates me so i guess i was just hoping even if it was a little sprain it’ll heal on its own as long as i don’t put too much pressure on it”

seungcheol nodded at your words, getting something from the desk before turning back to the computer. you could see now that he had a pair of glasses resting on his nose bridge, you hate to admit it but it made him look even cuter than before.

“oh you need glasses?” why did you ask him that? that’s such a stupid thing to ask.

“hm? oh these? nah they’re just blue light glasses” he said with a small smile, continuing his work.

you’d spent the rest of the half hour scrolling on your phone and texting your friends about where you were. your friend jeonghan promising you a bouquet of flowers from the shop when he comes to visit you. you didn’t mention the cute doctor you had that you definitely did not have a crush on. it was just attraction, that’s totally normal.

“oh your x-ray results are back” seungcheol told you, picking it up from the printer and wheeling his chair over to the bed you were on. “alright so it’s definitely a fracture and luckily for you, it’s not too serious. as you can see there only one bone cracked which means you most likely won’t be needing surgery. but considering how reckless you are, we’ll be giving you a cast and i’ll check to see if you can approved for crutches too”

despite all this information there was only one thing you really wanted to know. “so when can i go home?”

seungcheol let out a sigh, “after we get the cast on you and get the okay for the crutches. i’ll send the request in now should take about an hour or two, alright?”

“yeah that’s fine”

it’d been about twenty minutes since you’d gotten the cast on and you can already feel it start to annoy you. this was going to make your life hell for the next- wait how long do you have to wear this thing?

you looked over to seungcheol who was still busy at work, you really did not want to bother him. but then again he did say that you could ask him anything and it’d be fine.

“hey seungcheol?” he turned his head toward you humming, “i was just wondering how long i need to keep this thing on for”

he turned his body completely toward you, “there’s no guaranteed date, usually it takes around 6-8 weeks to heal on its own but it depends on everyone’s own body and how well you take care of it” a teasing lilt in his voice as he told you the last part.

“very funny” you jokingly rolled you eyes at him.

“it’s not my fault you couldn’t take care of yourself” he chuckled, spinning his chair around to continue sorting through his files.

eventually you could feel yourself growing more and more tired and before you knew it, you were out cold.

when you woke up there was a blanket covering your frame, the room being illuminated by the small desk lamp and seungcheol’s computer. you groaned a little, stretching your limbs as you rose from your nap. just how long had you been sleeping?

seungcheol heard you and realised you’d woken up, he stood and walked toward you. “sleep well?”

you laughed a little, “yeah i did, what time is it by the way my phones dead” you told him waving your phone that had the red battery sign on it.

“pass it to me, i have a charger you can use it. also it’s uhhh” he looked over at his watch, “just a little past midnight”

“midnight? oh wow how long was that nap” you laughed lightly. “alright well i should get going then”

“do you have a ride?” seungcheol eyed you cautiously.

“after my phone’s done charging i can call jeonghan he usually stays up late” you said more to yourself then to seungcheol.

“yoon jeonghan?”

“yeah.. you know him too?”

seungcheol cleared his throat, “we met a couple months ago. he’s a florist right? we usually get a lot of bouquets from his shop and he’ll sometimes stick around after delivering them. i can call him for you if you don’t wanna wait for your phone to finish charging”

you nodded and mumbled a ‘thanks’ when he handed you his phone. on the fourth ring jeonghan picked up.

“hello? seungcheol you’re up at this hour? usually you’re in bed at 10pm sharp” you heard your friend on the other side of the call.

“jeonghan it’s me”

“yn? what’ve you got seungcheol’s phone for? are you two..?” he trailed off at the end and you knew exactly what he was implying.

“no you idiot. my phones dead and i’m still at the hospital, think you can come pick me up?”

“oh yeah sure. you feeling any better?”

“yeah thanks, text either of us when you’re here okay? bye” you pressed the red hang up sign, handing the phone back to seungcheol.

ten minutes later, jeonghan had texted you that he was waiting outside, reception wouldn’t let him in at this hour. with seungcheol’s help you got to the parking lot, jeonghan parking closest to the entrance so that you wouldn’t have to walk too much.

“i’ll see you again in a week” seungcheol waved you off with a smile.

“see you later, dr choi” you teased him.

when you were completely buckled up in jeonghan’s car and he’d finally left the hospital parking lot he finally asked you what he’d been dying to know for the last fifteen minutes.

“so you and cheol?” he asked you, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“he’s just my doctor calm down. i’m not going to try making a move on my doctor” you giggled, “he was pretty cool though.. i guess” you started out the window, trying to desperately fight back the smile when the thoughts of seungcheol flooded your mind.

“oh yeah you’re gone for him already” jeonghan laughed.

“it’s been a day! i couldn’t possibly like him that much after a few hours come on jeonghan i’m not that bad”

“i don’t know, i wouldn’t be so sure. i mean it’s not like you’re the only one who feels like that. cheol could’ve woken you up and went home but he didn’t. he worked overtime to make sure you were alright”

“okay now you’re just being crazy. he probably had his own work to do. what kind of guy would do that for some random person they met two hours before?” you scoffed, throwing him a questioning look.

he shrugged, “i’m just saying what i’ve observed”

you shook your head, remembering what seungcheol had told you, “wait why do you stick around the hospital so much? even after delivering the orders?”

“oh that..” jeonghan was.. blushing? you’ve known him since you were ten and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him blushing, “i’m uh.. friends with one of the surgeons. i usually stick around talking to her and then met cheol and shua. but enough about me what’d they say about your ankle?”

“hm? oh yeah they said it usually takes around 6 weeks to heal, maybe even two months. just gotta be careful with it now that it’s in the cast”

four weeks later you'd returned to the hospital for your checkup, an extra pip in your step despite the crutches. you’d been having regular weekly checkups with seungcheol ever since that day and you enjoy the time spent with him more than anything. the hospital was done up nicely today, decorations everywhere in time for valentine’s day.

your ankle was heeling up nicely, so you’ve been told. if it kept up how it was you’d definitely be out of the cast at the six week mark. when you reached seungcheol’s door you knocked on it a few times before he opened it for you with a smile.

“my favourite patient, how’ve you been? ankle not giving you any new trouble right?” he told you as he helped you up on the bed.

“i’ve been good thanks and no, it’s been the same” you returned his wide grin. it was a long shot but you were secretly hoping he’d do something for valentine’s day. you guys had spent the last few weeks subtly flirting and the chemistry between you both was undeniable.

the checkup went smoothly as usual and seungcheol assured you that you were on a steady path to being completely recovered. as you were about to leave you saw dr hong waiting outside the door, holding a.. bouquet of red roses? seungcheol let him in and took the roses from him.

“jeonghan just left these for you, said you ordered them?” dr hong told him, smiling at you.

“thanks shua” he sighed.

you didn’t want to invade his privacy but you couldn’t help the way that the ‘to you’ card just happened to be right in front of your face. you wished it wasn’t though after seeing who the flowers were really for.

you felt a knot forming in your throat and cleared your throat, “uh i’ll see you next week doctor” you smiled at him tight lipped, not waiting for his response before you headed out the door.

jeonghan was probably around and could’ve given you a ride but you don’t think you could last in a car ride with him. he was far too good at reading emotions and would he able to tell somethings up with you in a minute.

sighing, you opened up the app for an uber and waited in the hospital cafe until you got the notification it was here. the entire car ride you tried your hardest to not think about seungcheol and how sweet he was to you, and definitely not about how the flowers he bought were for someone else and not you.

it’d been a week since your last appointment with seungcheol, and a week after valentines. you felt so stupid and so disgusted at yourself. this entire time you’d been shamelessly flirting with someone who couldn’t want less to do with you. someone who already had a girlfriend that he was buying a bouquet of red roses for.

you had an appointment tomorrow and you weren’t sure how you were going to face seungcheol, it was way too embarrassing to even think about. sighing, you picked up your keys before deciding to go out on a walk. there was a spot you always came to whenever you felt like this. it was past a little public trail near a few fields, everything always felt so calm there.

the only problem was that getting there was usually difficult even when you didn’t have a cast on your leg. it was bound to be even worse now. regardless, you started walking down the trail anyway, trying your hardest to avoid stepping into the dips in the ground too harshly. however careful you were though, the path was too randomly uneven so you couldn’t avoid harshly coming down on one. and it just had to be on your injured leg.

a sharp pain shooting through your ankle as you winced in pain. you sat on some of the grass near the trail and tried keeping your leg as elevated as you could. even if you could get the pain to alleviate, you were still only halfway down the path and trying to go the full way was far too risky. sighing, you stood again to head back home instead, limping and wincing whenever your foot hit the ground a little hard.

eventually the pain was too much so you needed to take a break. even if you could get someone to pick you up, you’d still need to get through this trail to head back to where cars were able to drive anyway.

you stood again continuing your journey back until you heard someone call your name from behind. that can’t be..?

“yn! just because i said your ankle was healing well does not mean you can pull something like this! are you crazy?” seungcheol told you, trying his best to not get mad but you could still tell he was frustrated. “what were you even here for?”

“i just wanted to get to that field” you scoffed, “surprised you even care” you muttered the last part.

“excuse me?” seungcheol looked at you intently.

“whatever, i don’t need to explain myself to you”

“yn i’m your doctor-”

“not right now. right now you’re not working so you’re just choi seungcheol” you told him pointedly.

“yn why are you being like this? did something happen?” seungcheol told asked you hesitantly.

you put some distance between the two of you, “it’s not like i need to tell you any of this. we’re not friends and you’re not my boyfriend, so please do not pretend like you care” you hated how your voice cracked slightly, tears welling up in your eyes. “besides i don’t think your girlfriend would really appreciate this so it’s better i just leave”

before you could leave you felt a strong hand gripping your forearm bringing you back toward him, “what the hell are you talking about? what girlfriend?”

if you hadn’t seen the evidence yourself you would’ve believed him considering how convincing his confused face looks.

“yn listen to me, i don’t even have a girlfriend, if i did i would not have the spent the last month thinking of ways to ask you out after your ankle was fine”

“huh? but- but i saw it! that day- with the flowers! they said to-”

“yn those were for my brother..” he interrupted you, amusement pulling at his features.

“you’re asking out your brother?” you shouted.

“no you idiot! ew! let me explain. my brother needed to get his girlfriend flowers for valentines and i told him about jeonghan. so he asked me to pick them up for him” seungcheol laughed lightly, holding your shoulders so that you knew not to interrupt him halfway through.

“oh.. well- any normal person would assume you were getting those for your own girlfriend!” you pouted trying to turn away from his teasing smirk.

“i don’t really understand why you were jealous though.. hmm” he put his finger on his chin sarcastically. he knew exactly why but still wanted to tease you for it, “oh! unless you’re jealous”

you groaned, covering your face before seungcheol pried your hands away. his gaze on you was too much at once so you turned away attempting to walk away. you’d forgotten where you were though so your foot slipped hard on a whole in the ground again.

“shit- we need to get you back to the hospital. can’t let you walk this whole way though..” you saw seungcheol think about it for a few seconds before he knelt down on the ground in front on you, “get on my back, i’ll carry you back and then you’re headed straight to the hospital, i’ll drop you off”

“are you sure?”

“yes now hurry. can’t believe you were willing to break your leg over something as petty as this” he scoffed jokingly as he made sure you were secure on his back.

it took about twenty minutes to get to the hospital and after they ran all the tests it was decided it was best for you to stay overnight. this time you weren’t in seungcheol’s usual office but one in the emergency ward. you didn’t like this one bit.

when seungcheol walked in he smiled when he met your gaze, “hey, everything alright?”

“well all things considered it’s not too bad i guess” you said sarcastically drawing a laugh out of seungcheol.

“yeah well i didn’t ask you to make the injury worse, did i?”

you stayed quiet for a few seconds, “hey cheol, they won’t need to do a surgery right?”

seungcheol could see the nerves on your face and part of him felt so guilty for finding the pout on your face so cute.

“don’t worry about that pretty, you didn’t manage to break another bone, you just undid some of what was already healed. it’ll take a couple extra weeks to heal that’s it” he said, rubbing his hand over your head to provide comfort to your clearly distressed figure.

there was one more thing you needed to know“and about us-”

“do you really want me to confess to you in a stinky hospital room?” he laughed, “i had a whole plan in mind but now i gotta postpone it because little miss wants to have a broken leg decided she wants to stay in a cast even longer”

“alright, but if you’re making me wait longer it better be good” you tried threatening him, fighting back your giggles.

“get some rest yn, jeonghan said a couple of your friends are visiting tomorrow. sleep well, i’ll be here if you need anything”

during visiting hours the next day you saw seungcheol was right, your friends really did visit you; albeit your best friend was late because she got lost and had to have joshua escort her over.

“oh it feels so good to finally have that thing off” you sighed, “it felt so suffocating after a while i was starting to forget what my leg felt like”

“yeah well make sure you don’t wind up here again or else you might end up in something worse than a cast” seungcheol half heartedly scolded, “try twisting it around. if it feels alright take a couple steps so we can just be completely sure, yeah?”

you did as seungcheol asked more than glad to say everything felt fine and back to normal. you laughed happily, smiling at him when he said you were officially healed and wouldn’t need to keep the cast on.

you wanted to hug him but something stopped you, a twinge of excitement in your eyes when you cleared your throat ready to ask seungcheol, “so about that confession you promised me..”

he chuckled moving closer to you, both of you mirroring each other’s wide grins, “yn. would you like to have dinner with me tonight? i’ll tell you all about my feelings then”

“i would love to” you giggled, finally hugging him.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #scoups x y/n #scoups x you #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x reader

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