#*sigh.* I love this dog beyond reason and I wish she wasn’t broken but I’m happy there are things I can do for her. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chocosvt · 3 years

Text

love café

⚬ pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 17.6K ⚬ warnings: some vulgar language, i guess! ⚬ genres: big time nsfw, dirty talk, lap dances, quickies, bath shenanigans, exhibitionism, overstim - you get what i mean. big ole romance, angst, fluff, jeonghan is very rich and very hot, joshua has a not so subtle crush on you.

✧✎ synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not.

✧✎ a/n: YES, ANOTHER REWRITE. the original love café was just so unsalvageable that i almost fully wiped its plot, minus the actual concept of the café. so, this should read as fairly new! I HOPE U ENJOY IT !!

It’s not that you were desperate. Because you weren’t.

You were actually more than desperate at this point, and no longer could you sit on that uneven couch with the broken leg, staring at the chipped paint, listening to your neighbours’ screams, believing you should continue like this. More than anything, you were shortchanging yourself. There was no point in holding onto that little string of hope in which those employers might phone you back. It would be impossible to contact your family when you had affirmatively cut ties with them ages ago. And, it was becoming increasingly foolish to ignore your one saving grace, just a street over from your rundown complex.

But, could you really commit to it? Would anyone even be able to look at you and think you were someone desirable enough to reward?

Those thoughts often hung over you like a dark cloud, and poured down so heavily that you were metaphorically drenched, in your own pessimism. However, on that day, you were beyond patience with the cards you’d been dealt. Such a despairing apartment, with all its bugs and drafts and horrible neighbours, could not be your brightest and most fortunate future. There had to be something you could do.

Even if it meant going to the Love Café.

In other words, an easy gig to financial heaven, in exchange for sexual pleasures of course. You walked into your bedroom and sat down in front of the wooden vanity, clicking on a dim, flickering bulb to help illuminate your face as well as its lifeless expression which stared back at you. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to pat your skin with some emptying makeup and thinning pans of eyeshadow. Then, you fixed up your hair and chose a simple, mute-coloured dress from your closet, immediately swallowed by the large winter coat you cozied into.

You hurried quickly down the corridor, ignoring the muffled shouts from your argumentative neighbours bleeding through the nickel-thin walls, past the barking dog which jumped against the door, scratching its nails whenever you waited for the elevator, and you didn’t even spare one glance at the very strange man who always hovered in the central lobby and watched you ignore his coos every single day. By the time you arrived outside the Love Café, you were breathing like a marathon runner. Despite the cold weather, you felt a sweat run like a breeze down your temple as you wiped your face before heading inside.

The space felt warm. Everything was red, pink, or white. And when you inhaled, the air smelled like a note of rose petals and candy. It was surprisingly easy to sign up for a ‘Love Card’ at the front desk.

“This card has twelve punches per service with your partner. If, by the end of the twelfth punch, you’re not looking to pursue something serious with this individual, you can pay for another Love Card. If you do manage to find, ‘the one’, then congratulations, and well wishes. Since you’re a first-time client, you get twenty-five percent off your first card.”

Whoever the lady was, she seemed less than enthusiastic as she pushed a cherry-red paper across the counter with a finely manicured nail. You thought she must have given this spiel so many times, the script probably haunted her in her sleep. Nonetheless, you thanked her, and heeded her direction when she advised you to choose any of the free tables, marked with a pale rose. For some reason, you picked the very last table amongst the row and slid yourself onto the uncomfortable, white chair, the metal back moulded into the shape of a heart.

Whoever reserved the table wasn’t exactly punctual. About half an hour after being seated, ordering yourself a tea, and examining the different clients who filtered in and out the café, you were beginning to assume the worst. That they cancelled. Flaked. Decided to pull from the service and direct their affluence elsewhere. As you titled the last few droplets of tea around the base of the cup, feeling utterly depressed and bored, you heard the little bells clink above the door, followed by a gasp from the employee at the front desk. Considering her microscopic range of emotion, you figured whoever entered must be some flawless rarity.

“Jeonghan!” She fixed her slouched position. “I wasn’t aware you made a reservation today. I haven’t seen your name in the system.”

“No worries. I set an anonymous appointment the night before. After all the chaos I caused last time, I figured it’s best to stay under the radar. I know I’m late. I was finishing up a term paper.”

“That’s quite all right. Here, I’ll just quickly renew your information. One moment… Okay, Yoon Jeonghan, you’re all set.”

At that, your eyes practically bulged right into the teacup. You’d heard his name in some conversations with a few university friends, before you had dropped your program. His father was an inventive in the fashion industry for nearly a decade, and his brand was considered high-end luxury, with people forking up the big bucks just to wear a piece from the collection. His mother recently begun a perfume company. In fact, you had a bottle from her Sunrise series sitting on your vanity, though you used each spritz very sparingly considering its outrageous price point. According to the most recent gossip, Jeonghan had ended his relationship with a model who’d been strutting his father’s cloths.

You couldn’t believe he was here.

No – even worse, you couldn’t believe he was making his way toward your table. It had to be some sort of mistake. How could it be that you chose to sit here? Was the universe attempting another cruel joke?

His visual seemed even more daunting outside his photographs in the magazines. Beyond a glossy page, he was softer. Thick hair, shiny and dark brown, which swooped beneath his ears and parted smoothly at the forehead. His lips were the same shade as the windowsill roses, as well as the high arches in his cheeks. But then, he was sharper too, with a trim, angular jaw and such a defined yet judgemental brow. You had expected anyone else but him. And now, this esteemed, much too beautiful man had come to the very last table, wearing an expression of waning curiosity. Or, as you interpreted it, clear-glass disappointment.

Before Jeonghan seated himself, he untucked his phone from his coat pocket and clicked a side button to check the time. He then sniffled, looked straight at the wall, and sighed. Despite your now devoted wish to disappear, you attempted to begin a conversation that wouldn’t backfire.

“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve heard the name. It’s nice to meet you.”

He settled one arm on the table, tapping his fingernails.

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re not a regular here—” he then peered over at your bright red Love Card placed by the teacup to say your name.

Bouncing your leg underneath the table, you nodded. “No, not really. I’ve been debating for a while if this was a choice I should make, but I can’t seem to have ends meet doing anything else. So, I came here.”

Already, Jeonghan looked painfully bored. He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned his chin against the hand instead. You knew it was the insecurity barking. Unnecessarily, you apologized to him.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not the woman you’re expecting and I get that. I wouldn’t be all that offended if you wanted to save the Love Card for someone else or—”

Out of the blue, Jeonghan laughed, though he attempted to mute the sound by digging the bend of his index finger between his teeth. Your sentence trailed off with an awkward, dying breath. He suddenly leaned back in his metal seat, shaking his head apologetically and pulling back some of the soft hairs from his eyes. You felt utterly confused.

“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, “didn’t mean to discourage you there, sweetheart. I’ve just never had someone apologize for—well, their looks.”

“I-I don’t know,” you lunged for damage control, “I just thought you seemed disappointed and I… Well, I haven’t done this before, so I don’t really know all that well how it works. I… I should stop talking…”

It felt as though someone had swatted both your cheeks in an iron-slap, because the skin was stinging hot like never before. You knew he was staring at you, probably thinking to himself that you were a train wreck waiting to happen. Afterward, an employee visited the table to collect your emptied teacup, and asked Jeonghan if he’d like anything to drink. Refusing to look elsewhere but the clenched fists in your lap, you waited for the employee to leave once Jeonghan rejected the offer. He’d pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, you watched him sloppily scribble something down.

“My number.” He said, sliding it across the table. “Listen, I’ve gotta go home and proofread that term paper before I submit it. Just send me a text, okay? I won’t be free for a few days, anyways.”

“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.

Quite frankly, you couldn’t comprehend that he was still interested in pursuing something venereal, even when you had embarrassed yourself like a circus act. He rose quickly from the table and wrapped the waistband of his coat tight around his small waist.

Staring down at the paper, you blurted out, “are you sure?”

Jeonghan titled his head. “Am I sure of what?”

“Never mind.” You answered. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.” He nodded, on the verge of walking away when he abruptly stopped himself. “Are you always this nervous?”

Caught off guard by his question, your elbow whacked the edge of the table and you meekly stuttered, “I-I don’t know…”

You were more than positive he was going to ghost all your texts.

To a degree, you were correct.

Over the course of the following week, you sent Jeonghan at least three texts, each on separate days, only to be rewarded with a demotivating lack of responses. You knew he was a busy individual who probably didn’t have much time to waste on promiscuous affairs, let alone a committed relationship. So, you tried very earnestly to not feel upset or unimportant at his methods – even despite the series of required payments glaring you down from those white envelopes scattered atop the kitchen table.

And then, during the black, late hours of a snowy Friday, you received a reply. A surprisingly urgent one which detailed that you make it to the downtown Opal Studio before eleven o’clock, as there would be a backdoor entrance left unlocked for your access. He mentioned a storage closet underneath a staircase, worded very sternly as: … Wait inside, and do not make yourself known. I’ll see you there shortly, and ensure you leave without being spotted. Uncertain of what the situation would entail, you phoned a cab and payed the driver using some remaining funds from a paper note purse. The studio’s front was a smooth, velvet black, with a wide window which illuminated several mannequins wearing Mr. Yoon’s newest issue. Each outfit cost a pretty penny.

Like you anticipated, Jeonghan was late to meet you in the storage closet; however, you were at no point going to scold his blatant disregard for scheduling when he’d pressed you tight against the door looking the way he did. Buttons popped down the chest of his unwrinkled dress shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and his neat, styled hair beginning to dishevel around those intense eyes. He braced his hand beside your head, studying your lips as though they were glittering.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked. The question seemed to rumble from deep in his throat and you felt your knees weaken.

You nodded immediately, allowing his hand to frame the side of your cheek as his warm, soft mouth nudged against yours. It was gentle for a fleeting touch, and then there was pressure, teeth, a slick tongue running across your bottom lip and leaving you in such a sensual daze that you just stood there with a parted mouth. Jeonghan definitely knew what he wanted from you in that moment. And he wanted it quick. You were flipped around, chest pushed against the door, skirt hiked up impatiently as the fabric ruffled around your hips. His hand slid between your thighs to rub you through the thin pair of underwear, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the cold, thick rings on his fingers.

Eagerly, you began a slow gyration of grinding against Jeonghan’s touch while simultaneously biting down hard on your bottom lip, knowing embarrassingly well that you were already sticky and soaking and ready for him to use you like a designated fucktoy. He was rather flush to your backside as he dug the heel of his palm against your clit, so much yet not enough between the cotton. Something about his scent was beyond arousing, and it gripped to him like a web. An expensive cologne no doubt, mature, raw, and ocean-fresh. You heard the sound of his belt being whipped open, followed by a zipper.

“Alright,” Jeonghan hummed, passing a hand up his length, “let’s make this quick. Gotta be back upstairs in five to finish the measurements and tapering and all that boring shit. Now, just be a good, quiet little girl for me, sweetheart, and this’ll be a cake walk.”

Your mouth stretched into a low, whiny groan as Jeonghan held your underwear aside and began to sink inside of you, his hips stalled against your skin. His light breath then fluttered at your ear, “bet you’d make such a perfect toy to keep my cock nice and warm. Feels so perfect, being this deep inside you, sweetheart.” He shuddered against you, thrusting once, twice, slowly and teasingly dragging himself out before ramming right back in to pinch you against the door.

“Fuck,” he cursed between his teeth, “life would be so much easier if I could just keep you right here on my cock, wouldn’t it, baby?”.

Undoubtedly, that smooth-talking tongue of his was going to be an impending problem. You don’t know where he got off exactly on such scandalous thoughts, but you were too consumed in your own lust to care. The way he fucked you against that door with one hand scraping at your hip and the other wrapped up your throat, fingers pressing hot into your drooling mouth to keep you quiet, it was more bliss than a one-way ticket to Eden. Jeonghan timed his orgasm appropriately, slipping himself from your warmth at the last second and finishing himself off using the hand which had been maintaining your silence. His breaths were slow but husky in the aftermath, his fingers painted in cum.

“You wouldn’t want to use that pretty mouth of yours to clean this, would you?” He laughed.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had grabbed some paper towels left to sit on a shelf and cleaned the mess himself. Then, as though nothing had happened, he asked if you were carrying that damn Love Card before you could even flatten down the wrinkles in your skirt. You grabbed the small note purse you set down next to the paper towels and revealed the obnoxiously coloured card. Jeonghan smiled.

“That’s the one.” He took a dry erase marker from the shelf and wrote his initials in the first circle.

“Here,” Jeonghan proceeded to offer back the card, “one session down. I need to scram. The hall should be clear at this hour, but have a cab ready just in case you need to bolt fast. Oh—before I go, you got the money to pay the driver? It’s no problem if you’re short. I can cover.”

“N-No, I should have enough.” You answered.

“Cool. I’ll transact you tonight.” Jeonghan nodded, tucking in his shirt rather poorly before slipping past you to exit the storage closet.

One week later, you were at the entrance to the library, pulling open the door with a big, cold huff. It was much warmer inside. You were beginning to feel the tips of your stiff fingers again.

Despite your service at the Love Café, you wanted one last time to test your luck on a receptionist position at the downtown hair salon, simply because you would think better of yourself if you weren’t relying chiefly on Jeonghan to pay your bills. His last transaction had been more than you anticipated. Finally, you were able to erase that huge electricity bill, and you still had enough of the money left over to supply some warm meals for the next few days. If you could just submit your newest resume to the salon, then you might be able to permanently cover the groceries.

Except, you needed access to a computer.

Ever since you tipped over a glass of water onto your old laptop, it had stopped working properly, and the library was the only place close by which let you use the computer room without fees. However, as you peered in through the backroom window to find an open space, you realized just how crammed full it was. Judging by everyone’s intense typing and unblinking eyes, you weren’t going to steal a seat anytime soon, which pulled out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with the USB in your pocket. You thought about heading home, until you saw Jeonghan.

He was seated at the distant left corner, leaned back comfortably in the chair while he examined something on his laptop. A gym bag was slid underneath the table, and he was dressed as though he had some sort of sports practice; quite the contrary to his usual crisp, ironed shirts and heavy winter coats courtesy of brands you couldn’t pronounce. He seemed concentrated, chewing on his thumb nail while he tapped the touch pad. In fact, he didn’t notice that you had approached him until you said his name quietly from across the table and his eyes flickered.

“Uh, hey.” Jeonghan replied, sounding bothered while he pushed his thumb harshly against his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“And I didn’t expect to see you.”

He shrugged, maintaining his uninterested glance on the laptop screen. “Well, I’m looking over some notes. Last minute stuff.”

You nodded. “What’s with the duffle bag?”

“My friend Joshua – he’s been making me coach this Peewee soccer team with him at the Greenfield Dome.” Jeonghan puffed out his chest, letting an arm fall loosely to his side. “Those kids are insane. They have too much energy. I shouldn’t have let that bastard sweet talk me.”

At that, you giggled, though immediately hushed yourself when the librarian came by with a metal cart, filled with books to shelve. You stepped around the table to move out of her way. Jeonghan pulled out the chair beside him using his foot and nodded that you take a seat.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.

“I need to upload my new resume. I mean, I probably won’t hear anything back from this place, ‘cause that’s how it usually goes. But, whatever. Thing is, I busted my laptop, and now the computer room is filled up. I’ll just come back later and hope it’s cleared out.” Staring down at your shoes, you avoided Jeonghan’s gaze. “I know I’m doing this Love Café stuff, but it would still be nice to have my own income, you know?”

“I get that.” He replied, scratching at his collarbone. “I’ve already got my laptop here and everything. You can use it, if you want.”

“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan closed a few tabs that he’d been rotating between before sliding his laptop over to you. Wriggling the memory stick into the small slot at the side, you logged into your email account through the main search engine. As long as you could send your resume to the salon before they closed their application deadline, then you would hope for the absolute best, even if it was an unstimulating, lacklustre gig answering phones and scheduling hair appointments all day. Just as you went to drag the file into your email, Jeonghan’s laptop froze.

“Uh, Jeonghan,” you whispered, “nothing’s moving. Do I just wait? Does this normally happen? Did I screw something up?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s been doing that a lot recently. I figured out if you hold down these keys—” Jeonghan suddenly scooted his chair in very close, his thigh pressing against yours as he reached a hand underneath your arm, the other lightly nudging your fingers off the keyboard, “then it goes back to normal. See?”

“O-Oh, yeah. It’s working.” You stuttered, not all staring at the specific keys he clicked because the side of his face was much too pretty.

Granting you access to the keyboard again, Jeonghan leaned away, though he didn’t move his thigh from yours even an inch. It was almost concerning how flustered you felt. Jeonghan had literally pinned you against a closet door and fucked his own hand right in front of you, and yet, your heart was fluttering tenfold. In a much different way. And it lit this spark of fear and adrenaline at the core of your chest like gasoline hitting a wicked flame. You detached the USB stick, logged yourself out from the email account, and moved quickly off the seat.

In a hurried breath, you said, “thanks so much!” and proceeded to leave the library as though someone were trailing you with a pitchfork.

While it was embarrassing, you knew it was necessary. There was no way you were going to crush on that boy. It was strictly business.

Tired. Aching.

Uncomfortable moisture covering the slopes and divots of your body. You didn’t think there was anything left inside you for him to so commandingly take, like his name were inked to your each and every limb. And yet, Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you rest. The mattress dipped behind you, the heat of his chest sticking to your back, the weight of his erection pressed right at your tailbone. While his lips kissed softly up your neck, Jeonghan slid his hand in between your thighs to continue pleasuring you, ignoring the responsive whimpers attached to your sensitivity. He’d already brought you to two orgasms, though you were sensing the overbearing rush of a third.

An index and middle finger slid down to your entrance, the contact beyond slippery, a sort of wet velvet, and you hardly recognized the sensation unlike the first time he’d touched you. Jeonghan hooked the digits deep, using the heel of his palm to rub a thorough friction against your clit. Working faster and faster, his laboured breaths fanned hot across your neck while he sharply concentrated on making you starry-eyed. It was pain. It was bliss. It was exactly what you wanted most and everything you couldn’t endure at the same time. You came heavily, screamed as the pulsation at your core felt almost violent.

Unable to fully ride out the pleasure, you attempted to curl away from Jeonghan, hiding your face in the pillows and further tilting your hips. However, the boy followed your movement. He stayed snug to your back, practically leaned over top you with the latter arm braced next to your head while his hand pounded and pounded. The amount of liquid gushing onto his fingers and spilling down his wrist felt almost comical, and you were certain that you had never orgasmed so intensely in your life. To make matters worse, it seemed as though he’d taken that little memory box in your head filled with all your language and tossed it right out the damn window. You couldn’t form one word other than sobs.

Jeonghan breathed a light, shaky chuckle beside your ear. “Trying to run from me, sweetheart? When I can make you feel so good? Look at how much you can take, honey. Such a good girl when you cum so fucking hard ‘round my fingers I can barely move them.”

The sound of his digits sliding out from your entrance was the most impure, salacious noise you didn’t know could exist. Rolling slowly onto your back, you saw the immediate coating on Jeonghan’s hand and the drops beading down his wrist. He caught one with his tongue, licking all the way back up like he was cleaning the juice from a melted popsicle, and you almost couldn’t watch him. In fact, you were exhausted. There wasn’t anything left for you to offer, and the thought of moving from his bed when your core felt this utterly sore and your muscles this tight set a perfectly timed cue for your eyes to fall shut. It was heavenly.

Nonetheless, Jeonghan had a very specific rule. There was no staying past your session, and he was often strikingly clear about it. But this was the first time you’d been pushed to such a degree. He must be able to recognize that it was only a short nap you needed, and perhaps a quick minute under the shower to rid your skin of the sticky sweat.

Out of the blue, something was tossed onto your face. It was your t-shirt earlier stripped and thrown to the floor by Jeonghan. Cracking an eye open and peeling away the fabric to hang loosely from your grip, you sighed. He had already slipped back into his exercise pants.

“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”

He threw a loose flannel over the long, beaming red scrapes that you had clawed down his back, shaking his head with a huff.

“I’m not saying you need to get out right now. I’ve got a dinner with the parents at eight.” Jeonghan proceeded to drop the rest of your undergarments onto bed. “So, you gotta be gone by a quarter to, alright?”

Swallowing dryly, you nodded.

“Alright.”

The next morning, you were seated on the edge of your bed, staring with bleary eyes at the smooth, red Love Card that was initialed to its fifth circle, leaving only eight more sessions with Jeonghan. Though you approached the café with nothing more than an intention to earn money (even if the sex would be inexplicably dull), you were beginning to presume that there was more to this business than you thought. Because the sex wasn’t dull. It was concerningly amazing. And the very man who you had sworn to maintain a no-strings-attached type relationship with was throwing you for a loop. But he was boundary driven.

Be ready to go by this time. No sparkly clothes. Leave nothing in the washroom. Don’t show up here. Don’t show up there. Don’t text me unless this. Don’t call me unless that. Jeonghan knew very explicitly that you were a simple trick to relieving his stress and fulfilling his sexual desires, yet, anything further than that was laughably impossible. And, besides, it’s not like you needed to be in love or have this dazzling, perfect boyfriend. There was too much on your plate already.

You had gone to bed in a thick wool sweater, layered with the heaviest comforter you had due to the broken heating. Ignoring the cold, your next-door neighbours had found themselves in another drunken argument, forcing you to hear the unnerving crack of beer bottles and an outrageous number of insults, ranging from the very straightforward, ‘ridiculous bitch” to the audacious, “go fuck yourself, narcissistic prick.”

Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.

You set the Love Card back on your nightstand. After you splashed mild water onto your face from the sink, you started multitasking, attempting to brush your teeth and remove your pyjama bottoms at the same time. Then, there was a knock at your door. You spared a glance through the peephole while the toothbrush hung from the corner of your mouth and the frigid air hit your bare legs. Upon recognizing the face reflected through the fisheye lens, you nearly choked on the mint-flavoured spit collected at the back of your throat, which forced you to unpleasantly compose yourself at the kitchen sink.

He knocked again, and you pulled the door open almost immediately, probably appearing as though you just hiked through the wilderness. Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he smiled at you.

“Damn. Sleep well?” He remarked, looking you up and down.

You were in the midst of a yawn as you answered. “Um, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”

Jeonghan nodded. “I’ll take that as a no.” He then reached into the pocket on his flannel coat. “Anyways, I have your phone. You left it on my bedside table the other night. Figured it’s kind of useful, I guess.”

“Oh my god. I did that?” You winced, realizing you must have been so tired and discombobulated from Jeonghan blowing your brains out that you forgot. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Leaning your temple against the door, you sighed. “How was that dinner thing with your parents? Was it any fun?”

The boy shook his head, pulling out his car keys and tossing them from hand to hand. “No. It was all business bullshit. What they want me to do with my future after I graduate uni. How to be responsible with my money since they think I’m gonna blow it in a few years. Trying to structure my life around stuff I don’t really give a damn about.”

“O-Oh…” You frowned, “well, was there at least good food?”

Jeonghan stopped playing with his keys and titled his head at you. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes gentle, “they had great red velvet cake.”

Unfortunately, your neighbours must have woken up and decided it was a little too peaceful at such an hour, because you heard a loud, clanging thump echo from the room beside yours, like someone had dropped a metal pot or pan on the ground. Of course, the yelling started.

It didn’t last nearly as long compared to the night before, just a few scolding comments which were ultimately muffled. You wondered what Jeonghan was thinking as he blinked at the neighbour’s door and realized how despairing the narrow, dimly-lit hallway looked. After visiting his high-end apartment numerous times based in the luxury core of the city, with its beautiful architecture and sparkle, you were frankly a bit humiliated he was witnessing this drab part of your life – the reason you were seeking his service in the first place. You apologized through your teeth for the commotion, though Jeonghan merely shrugged.

“It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true. But those two next door can be a handful sometimes. I don’t get it. If they hate each other, then just break up. Get divorced. It’s like they want to be miserable on purpose.”

“Bet you wish you could get the hell outta here, huh?”

“All the time.” You replied wistfully. “I’m thinking of going to the mall today, actually. I need a new bath towel. Whatever gets me away.”

“You want a ride there?” Jeonghan asked, shaking his keys.

At that, you smiled a little too wide. “Maybe.”

Carefully, you picked up a thin, glass bottle of pink perfume from the display counter, tilting the liquid back and forth as the lights gleamed off the gold nozzle. Everything inside the store was diamond bright and almost blinding, while the air smelled strongly of expensive floral. The employees were tailored in smooth, sophisticated suits, which made you more petrified than usual to touch anything, hence your very delicate inspection of the perfume as you waited for Jeonghan to finish his conversation with the front clerk. Since his father’s collection was sold at the boutique, Jeonghan seemed to have a cordial relationship with the staff, and they had recognized him almost immediately.

As most of their merchandise was quite expensive, you always ignored the boutique until Jeonghan suggested you stop by. It didn’t help that there was actually some cute clothing begging to be bought, though you knew one swift glance at the price tag would change your mind. You brought the perfume bottle close to your nose and inhaled lightly.

“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.

You sniffed again. “It’s sweet, though it’s not strong.”

“Let me smell.” He said, and so you raised the bottle up to his nose. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around yours as he took a breath, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s all wrong. I don’t like it.”

“It is kind of high schoolish.” You told him, setting the test bottle back onto the counter as though you were laying down a jewel. “I just need a new scent, you know? I actually love that one bottle your mom did, the summer tropic one. It’s so peachy but mild. I’m running out.”

“For real?” Jeonghan laughed, his eyes skipping over the different shaped containers. “You use one of my mom’s perfumes?”

“Um, yeah. Have you even smelled the tropic one? It’s amazing.”

“I don’t hang around her laboratory too often.” He replied. “It gives me a big fucking headache. Smells like this place times a hundred.”

You shrugged. “I guess that’s understandable.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan had latched his hand around your elbow, pulling you around to the opposite side of the counter. He grabbed a tall, slim bottle that was made from foggy glass and a chrome silver pump.

“C’mon, give me your wrist for a second.” He said. “Try this scent. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of you.”

Pulling up your sleeve, you stuck out your wrist and allowed him to spray a thin layer against the skin. Then, you sniffed the area. At first, your forehead crinkled as you attempted to decipher its concoction of notes. There was something a little fresh and cool, but then there was this oddly mature hint of a distinguished floral scent. You couldn’t pinpoint the flower, but it was certainly addictive and very intriguing.

“It’s called Orchid Night. Smells great, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, rolling your sleeve back down “just don’t tell me what it costs. It has to be at least fifty bucks.”

“Try sixty-nine,” Jeonghan corrected, “plus tax, don’t forget.”

Immediately, you grabbed the bottle from his hand and returned the perfume to its small podium on the countertop.

“Well, let’s put it back before we break it.”

Jeonghan smirked. “I could buy it for you.”

For a split second, you were tempted to succumb, though you snapped from the thought at the last second and shook your head.

“No way. I wouldn’t let you, anyways.”

He buried his hands in his pockets, rolling those gold-copper eyes of his. Jeonghan made sure to purposefully bump into you as he walked down the bright aisle toward the clothes. “Honestly, you’re so boring, man. That scent, on you? It would be sexy.” The boy then turned around to smother you with a burning gaze. “But, fine. Have it your way.”

You hurried after him, scoffing lightheartedly to camouflage the fact your heart was beating like a broken pendulum. Jeonghan had stopped at a rack of neatly pressed clothing to sort through the hangers.

“My way is the better way,” you smiled, “always.”

Jeonghan moved the long-sleeved button-up he’d been eyeing back onto the rack, merely blowing out a puff of air.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Besides, I still need to get my bath towel.”

“We can find it on the bottom floor. At the new essentials store that just opened up. The Shower Duck, I think.”

“The Shower what?”

He couldn’t help but cackle while repeating himself. “The Shower Duck. You thought I said something else, didn’t you?”

When you were too tongue-twisted to reply, Jeonghan decided to place his fingers softly on your chin, holding your head still as he leaned in very closely to whisper, “you’re such a dirty girl, you know that?” You almost hated how casually he pulled away and continued to examine the clothing, as though he hadn’t just murmured a lascivious comment into your ear while the employees were standing a mere few meters across the store. More than anything, you desired the courage to deservingly tease him in return, to break that relaxed little shtick of his. Except, you weren’t confident nor subtle enough to attempt anything in public.

But when your eyes landed on that brand-new lingerie set wrapped primly on the nearest mannequin, you had a wonderful idea.

“No, are you being serious? Why? Why?”

His blunt fingernails sunk into the leather arms of the desk chair, scraping upward, as equally frustrated with your cruel antics as he was aroused and impatient. Maybe it was somewhat meanspirited to strut the thin, beautiful lace and ribbons curled around your body in a baby pink, and indeed, there was a moment where you pondered leniency, though, you severed the thought, because Jeonghan would surely tear each garter and bow from your outfit like it hadn’t cost anything at all. Pursing your bottom lip, you smiled, sinister and cold.

“I am being serious,” you stated firmly, nearing closer to his desk chair, “your hands won’t touch a single part of me, Jeonghan.”

He glared up at you with a dark, flickering fire in his eyes, as if he were already weighing the consequence to breaking such rules. You began to sit comfortably on the boy’s lap, curling your arms around his neck while maintaining the intensity of the stare.

“And, if you do, I’ll grab my things and leave. It’ll just be you and your hand, for the rest of the night.” Purposefully, you brushed delicate lips, featherlight, along his warm, red-tinged ear, to which you could practically feel him harden underneath you upon the whisper, “and there’ll be nothing you can do other than remembering how good it felt when I was in your lap, grinding down on you, baby boy, just like this.”

Slowly and with focus, you rolled your hips in a deep, smooth gyration, ensuring Jeonghan felt the heavy pressure against all the right places. His hands keened for your waist, so you immediately reminded him of your unnegotiable rules, forcing them to settle on the arms of the chair. He drew in a sharp breath. And then, he started to laugh, like a beaten protagonist receiving their first, acrid taste of defeat. Jeonghan titled his head back to smile very lazily at you.

“Evil.” He said. “You’re fucking evil.”

“Mmhm,” you agreed, continuing the unhurried, steadfast pace of your hips rolling back and forth, observing with poorly hidden glee as the boy lost his smile, “but you’ll still cum, won’t you, Jeonghan?”

Before he could sneak in a clever rebuttal, you adjusted yourself even lower onto his lap, digging your nails down the back of his neck as you circled a thorough motion against his erection. Admittedly, it was difficult to maintain the domineering act. Even through the black material of the slacks, his cock was managing to create a friction with your lace underwear, a friction so rough yet fruitless that you were already tempted to take him, full and aching inside you. In order to distract yourself, you licked the tender side to Jeonghan’s neck, looping your tongue in a messy, warm pattern overtop a sensitive vein.

“Ff-fuck,” Jeonghan stuttered, scraping harshly along the chair, “you devilish little girl, c-can’t believe you’re g’nna make me cum like this—b-but it feels so damn good the way you’re moving, baby.”

You suckled until you’d drawn a shiny, wine-coloured hue to the surface of Jeonghan’s skin, to mark a dark bruise as a keepsake. He kept breathing through a parted mouth, each exhale shakier and more erratic than the last, his knuckles hard like stone while they gratingly tensed and betrayed his frustration at not being able to touch you. With slow, teasing hands, you began to drag them down his chest, nails clawing at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt. Jeonghan squirmed. He clenched his jaw and cursed rough under his breath. You focused on where his cock was poking you to apply the most dizzying pressure thus far, rolling your hips until something inside Jeonghan snapped and you felt him cum.

“Jesus—fuck!” He shouted, the loudest you had ever heard the boy, and there was a notable tear in his usually soft voice. “Keep going, keep going,” Jeonghan panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “keep fucking moving just like that, sweetheart. A-Ahh, ff-fuck, feels s-so good—"

At the pulsating sensation right beneath your core, you submitted to Jeonghan’s wish and continued grinding down, even if you were beginning to tire at your lack of stamina. However, there came a point where you were too breathless to maintain such a pace, so you trickled to a halt and steadied your hands on his firm shoulders. He tossed his head back, neck leaned against the edge of the chair. The hazy, glass look to his brown eyes and the rose glow smeared on each cheek made it appear as though he’d just touched down from heaven. As you shifted slightly in Jeonghan’s lap, you noticed the white stream of cum that had soaked through his pants, and that somehow, he was still hard.

“I didn’t know you could beg, Jeonghan.” You remarked, grinning, meanwhile attempting to catch your breath.

He shook his head. “Don’t expect it too much.”

“Well, I can tell you’re satisfied, either way.”

He chuckled, brushing some of the loose hairs from his face. You felt his hands settle upon your waist’s bare skin, warm and squeezing. In that moment, you just didn’t possess the same acuteness to scold him.

“Almost,” Jeonghan huffed, “but, what do you suppose you’ll do to please yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned forward, until his forehead was just a sliver away from bumping yours, the boy sliding a hand down your abdomen and beneath the lace underwear. As he stroked the tips of his fingers along your slit, he smirked. “I’ve never felt someone so wet before, dripping all over my fingers and I’m barely touching you. Did it turn you on that much, sweetheart? Feeling my hard cock right underneath this needy pussy of yours?” Jeonghan teased with a smirk and a low, calm tone. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to duct tape his mouth shut or allow him to keep talking, as there was something about his honeyed voice which wound you up like clockwork.

Yet, before you could even start the syllable of a response, Jeonghan pushed you strongly from his lap, his hands glued to your waist as he guided you to stumble against the bed. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets puffing up around you. And then, Jeonghan was kissing you, lips clashing messily while he took advantage of the switched power dynamic to run his hands over your every inch. One second, they were cupping your breasts overtop the baby pink bralette. Another second, they were grabbing at your ass and kneading so desperately. You were being ravaged. It was overwhelming, it was gratifying, it was needed beyond belief.

“Hey,” Jeonghan said, separating his mouth from the side of your throat to stare at you with an oddly sentimental eye, “before I get all up in your guts and everything— you look beautiful. Even if you did choose this outfit to be a big fucking tease.” His fingers brushed down the edge of your jaw, and he smiled at you in a way that wasn’t clever or teetering on sarcasm. Your heart leapt like a little frog in your chest.

“Really?” You questioned him, not because you didn’t believe the lingerie suited your figure, but rather, you weren’t expecting this sweetness from someone who was always so quick to get rid of you.

He nodded, raising a suspecting eyebrow. “Yeah, really. What, you think I’m lying to you or something?”

“No, I don’t think that,” you answered quickly, curling your fingers into the bedsheets, “I just—I wasn’t… Uh, never mind.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan laughed, lowering his head to delicately kiss your cheek, and then your neck, “you’re a bit strange sometimes, you know that?” He mumbled against the sensitive skin, even daring to dig his knee between your thighs to make you increasingly pliable.

“I-I know,” you stuttered, unable to help your embarrassing voice crack. But you still smiled, letting Jeonghan explore and pleasure your body with an uncharacteristic tenderness for the remainder of the night.

Twelve am.

Usually, at this time, you’d be at the bottom floor of his apartment complex, seated by the lobby water fountain. You’d be examining your face with a pocket mirror, awaiting the yellow taxi cab, and trying to avoid eye contact with the wealthy businesspeople filtering from the elevators in glamourous congregation.

However, tonight was different.

Tonight, you were in Jeonghan’s bed, with a white sheet covering the lower half of your bodies, an ear pressed to his bare, warm chest while you breathed him in like the wind on a bright summer’s day. You felt his fingertips trace long figure eights down your spine and then dance back up to the subtle curve of your shoulder blades. Sometimes it tickled, other times it was a touch so soft it was hardly there, and in between you thought he might have been tracing words. The room was quiet. But good quiet— the comfortable quiet. And then you heard Jeonghan speak into the crown of your head while his hand stilled at your waist.

“Did that salon ever call you back?” He asked.

You sighed, focusing on your thumb which brushed a small freckle on his pectoral muscle. “They emailed me, and said their position was already filled, but that they’ll try to look for another opening.”

Jeonghan rubbed your hip. “That’s good, right? I mean, they didn’t just flat out reject you. They’re gonna keep you in mind.”

“It’s better than what I’m used to getting,” you answered, pressing your lips together and tilting your head up at him.

And, that’s when it struck you, like someone had just clanged a bell right beside your head. You were still in Jeonghan’s bed. You were still in Jeonghan’s apartment. You were still with Jeonghan. Feeling as though you’d broken some vastly significant cardinal rule, you operated on a strange basis of panic and autopilot, already seated at the edge of the mattress while you tucked your underwear back on.

“I’m sorry,” you spewed, reaching for your shirt next and straightening it out frantically in your lap, “the time escaped me. I-I know I have to go. And, my Love Card, I think it’s in my purse or—”

“Can you slow down?” Jeonghan laughed, casting a hand through his loose, disarrayed hair which you had admittedly tugged earlier in the night like your life depended on it. The boy’s arms circled around your midframe, hugging your back to his chest. “I don’t care about that stupid card right now,” Jeonghan hummed into your ear, “stay.”

At that, you almost choked. “Stay? You want me to stay?” You repeated dumbly, dropping the inside-out shirt back onto your lap.

The coldest shiver split down your spine as Jeonghan buried his face against your neck, taking a breath of your scent, kissing your skin.

“Yeah,” he purred, now pecking the soft spot behind your ear, “I want you to stay. Or, if you really want to go home, I won’t stop you.”

“No,” you replied almost immediately, melting into his voice, his touch, his body, “trust me, I’d rather be here.”

Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.

“I figured that.”

Even though you had strongly protested the idea, Jeonghan succeeded at wearing you down akin to an ocean tide forming whorls into rock, and now you were seated before your vanity with an array of makeup scattered at your fingertips as you prepared for a dinner. His parents were going to be there, in addition to some business partners and close friends, which sounded like something from a hellish nightmare. In fact, Jeonghan himself didn’t seem all that eager to attend. He’d been sprawled across your bed for the past half hour, with the long drapes of his coat fanned around him, as he flipped through an old magazine. You were certain he just didn’t want to tough another dinner alone.

After focusing a spritz of perfume to your neck (the orchid one, bought by Jeonghan, because he was very insistent that you not smell like his mother) you shut off the vanity lights and sighed.

“I think I’m ready… Physically though, not mentally.”

Jeonghan yawned, tossing the magazine aside before he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. He rubbed at his eye.

“Trust me, it’s not going to be the big, royal midnight ball that you’re picturing. My parents have these dinners all the time. You’ll be the centre of attention for a few minutes, and then it’s pretty much just business central from there. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a word in. I stopped trying months ago.”

You smiled at him, feeling slightly better about the situation, and took one last, scrutinizing glance in the mirror. The dress was simple yet elegant, a mute shade of dark blue with a beaded, crystal belt that you had forgotten about, as you discovered it laying behind a stool shoved in your closet. The fabric had an elastic tightness to it and was hemmed shorter than you remembered, just above your fingertips. You tried not to judge or overthink the figure which reflected in the vanity glass, or what Jeonghan’s parents might assume upon their first introduction to someone who was so clueless on their accolades. It was merely a dinner.

“Stop worrying so much,” Jeonghan hummed, sensing that you were at the forefront of a spiral. His hands settled to your hips and he caught your eye through the mirror. “No one is going to judge you, or poke fun at you, or say anything mean. I promise.” He then grabbed your winter coat off the bed, helping you slide into the arms, and even doing up the buttons. “You’re gorgeous.” Jeonghan said, tapping your chin.

It didn’t help that he could fluster you so easily.

Joshua wasn’t at all who you expected him to be, while simultaneously encompassing everything you would indeed expect from the position of Jeonghan’s closest friend. He was a juxtaposition personified. Slick, ash blonde hair combed into a handsome wave, eyes which twinkled like the restaurant’s diamond chandelier, and a soothing voice which could be a cup of warm milk on a frosty day, though his interactions with Jeonghan portrayed him as childlike and frivolous. He greeted you, at first with a quick hug. You heard him exhale deeply.

“Wow,” Joshua commented, retreating to shake your hand, “you smell amazing! I mean—well, I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”

You laughed, and wondered how someone could smile with such a prettiness. “Thank you! I’d be upset if you didn’t notice, actually.”

Joshua continued to shake your hand. “Oh, yeah, agree. It’s wonderful to meet you. Jeonghan’s been trying to hide you, it seems.”

“Go shove a break stick in your mouth,” Jeonghan scoffed, blowing a loose piece of hair from his eyes, “and stop shaking her hand like that. You’re gonna snap her whole arm off.”

Finally, Joshua released his grip, and your arm fell back to your side like a limp noodle. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“I was not. Anyways—” he nodded at you, “like I said, nice to meet you. I hope we’ll talk more tonight and I’ll pick your brain.”

“Sure thing,” you answered, waving the boy off as he returned to the dinner table before facing Jeonghan. “He seems nice.”

“And totally into you. I haven’t seen him shake someone’s hand like that since I introduced him to Elouise from France. He’s gonna turn into a lost puppy all over again. Bet he’ll try to sweet talk you later.”

“Can’t wait.” You grinned, already giggling through your teeth.

Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.

However, meeting Jeonghan’s parents was starkly different than the good-humoured Joshua. They both appeared cross, and firm, and before you had even shaken their hands you were forced to wipe yours against your dress. The father was a bit softer around the edges, showing you a pleased smile that reminded you instantaneously of Jeonghan, while the mother was stone-faced and seemed as though she hadn’t slouched since birth. Even when she complimented your fragrance, there was a tartness to her voice which made it sound disingenuous.

“Well, Jeonghan,” she said, clasping her hands together, “I’m glad to finally see you with a lovely lady on your arm. I didn’t think it was possible that you could settle for someone after being with Baejin.”

“Oh?” The father piped up, “you’re my son’s girlfriend?”

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had beaten you to it.

“No, she’s…” he bit his lip hard, “she’s just a friend. Mom kept nagging that I always come to these dinners alone, and she was down.”

For some reason, it felt like someone had pierced a pin straight through your heart – a very tiny hole which shouldn’t hurt all that much, yet stung like flesh to orange, glowing metal. In fact, there was a visible shift in your countenance, from a nervous smile to a sunken frown, but you were able to veil it very quickly and pretend nothing was wrong. Why should you feel so disappointed that Jeonghan had introduced you as a friend? The promiscuous nature of your relationship didn’t immediately loop you two together as soulmates, or lovers, or even the mildest beginnings of boyfriend and girlfriend. You tried to refocus yourself.

Jeonghan’s mother nodded. “Even if she isn’t your next Baejin, it’s nice to meet a new face. The dinner talk might bore you no doubt.”

“No, not at all—” you forced a smile, “I’m just excited to be here.”

It was easier to endure the night than you thought, because true to Jeonghan’s word, the conversation was a bunch of business lingo that you didn’t exactly understand, with the occasional question flitted to you by Joshua who sat across the table. You had completely emptied your glass of ice water, and were halfway through your wine when two fancy, tuxedoed servers stopped by the table to collect everyone’s dishes. A distant relative was seated to Jeonghan’s right, and they had swept him into a discussion of whether or not he was interested in pursuing his current degree or if he would abandon it to work fulltime for his father’s brand. Meanwhile, Joshua had whisper-shouted your name.

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“Are you getting dessert?” The blonde asked, already shoving a small, plastic menu to his face. “I can’t decide what I want.”

“I guess so,” you picked up an extra menu sitting by a purple wine bottle and started to browse the list of decadent food.

Joshua sighed, “I usually get the cheesecake… but, I’m torn. What if I want the caramel apple baked pudding with black truffles?”

“The caramel apple baked what?” You questioned, laughing from the absolute mouthful that Joshua just worded so effortlessly.

“I know, I know. It’s a jumble. But my family and I come here all the time so I’ve gotten these names down pat. What are you thinking?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before, actually.”

His eyes, glistering and delighted, locked with yours. “Can I recommend you something, then?” Joshua said while smiling. “Red velvet cake. It’s right at the bottom. Not to mention the slice is huge so there’s always leftovers for the next day. It’s a favourite here.”

The relative responsible for dragging Jeonghan into another trite conversation concerning his future had excused themselves from the table. He was finally able to return his attention to you, and you slid over the dessert menu so he could pick something. You noted that Jeonghan’s hand had fallen onto your thigh, right at the hem of your dress, and you could only surmise that trouble was brewing. Joshua took a sip from his water glass, then settled it back on the table while subtly eyeing you.

“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you in school?”

You tapped your nails against the white table cloth, shaking your head, “no—I had to drop my program. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be and, well, I took a huge hit financially. So, no school.”

“Not everything is going to be a bullseye,” Joshua said, “I’m sure there’ll be more opportunity down the road. This other friend of mine, his name is Mingyu, he does this thing called the Love Café—” the boy then gestured to Jeonghan, “and I know he’s done it once before. Have you heard of it? Maybe it’s not up your alley, but I hear it’s good money.”

The suggestion had quite visibly stunned you. It seemed that Jeonghan was intent to keep the foundation of your relationship as covert as possible, which prompted his ‘friends’ comment before dinner, therefore you had no choice but to follow the rouse, even if the boy was currently sliding his hand further up the inside of your thigh, pushing inch by inch under your dress. Jeonghan didn’t contribute a single word.

“Um, the name sounds familiar. I’ll have to look it up.” You then glanced at him, hanging his head over the menu like a child who forgot their glasses, probably hiding some million-watt smirk.

“Are you having dessert?” Joshua asked his friend.

Jeonghan sat up straight, nodding, “I am.”

“The red velvet cake?”

“Vanilla ice cream. The one that comes on the skillet.”

“Oh, that one’s seriously good,” Joshua groaned, “ask them to put a chocolate chip cookie on the side. It gets all warm and—”

“Joshua,” the young lady beside him, probably in her late twenties, with petal-shaped, twinkling eyes similar to his and ice-like smooth skin, suddenly wrapped her hand around his arm, “can you come outside with me for a few minutes? I think I left my wallet in the car.”

He pushed out his chair. “Sure thing—guys, I’ll be back in a few. I need to help my cousin. If the waiter comes, order for me please.”

While you might have promised Joshua to follow through on his unnecessarily complicated apple pudding, such thoughts were quick to be discarded the moment he’d left the table, as Jeonghan had given you much more to think about. The boy’s hand was wedged between the apex of your thighs with two fingers pressed flat against your underwear. You felt heat, and the faintest burning of pleasure, one that yearned for you to start a gentle undulation against his hand because your unruly body was already eager for stimulation. Jeonghan picked up his wine glass.

“What are you doing?” You tried to shelter the whisper from the table’s guests, hoping the business speech was too engrossing.

As laid back as an ironing board, Jeonghan took a long gulp from his drink, swishing the wine from cheek to cheek before he swallowed. He set the wide-rimmed glass back down and wiped his mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” He said, raising an eyebrow at you as though you’d conjured a make-believe tale. However, the instant he started to slide up his index finger so it could push firmly against your clit, a smirk penetrated that complacent expression.

You grabbed his wrist, stared him dead in those honey-brown eyes. “Are you insane?” the whisper was harsh, “we’re in public.”

He tilted his head indifferently. “What’s your point, love? I get to play with your pussy whenever I want. It’s mine now. Remember?”

The dirty-mouthed comment split a fire beneath your cheeks like a flint cracking steel. Not only that, but Jeonghan studied each minor contort of your face as he slipped two digits beneath your underwear, brushing his fingertips ever so softly around your sensitive clit. You gulped, dry and gritty, hating that your thighs were starting to spread.

“Jeonghan!” A voice called his name from down the table.

Fear gripped your poor heart like latex glove. It was an older relative, asking him to pass down the remaining bottle full of wine.

“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.

You nearly gawked at the remark considering the immoral placement of his hand and what he was doing. On the contrary – as much as you wanted to be embarrassed for allowing Jeonghan to touch you in public viewing– he knew his talents much too well, and the manner in which he used your own arousal to lubricate the massaging motion of his finger to your clit was an astounding bliss. Your legs fell wider apart, inviting him to explore a more rigorous touch, and that’s when Jeonghan curled his two fingers inside of you until his knuckles couldn’t fit.

Before your pinched expression could be caught by anyone at the table, you looked straight down at your lap, watching his wrist work beneath the navy-blue fabric. In fact, very faintly, you could hear the squelch from his digits pumping deep and slow into your warmth. Your bottom lip was quivering as he drew them out, now running the long length of his fingers upward to graze beneath the hood of your clit. He repeated a stroking gesture. It triggered the nerves to swell and pulse.

“I see Joshua walking back,” Jeonghan murmured, an arrogance thick in his voice, “and you don’t want him to find out about this, do you? Or, maybe I’m wrong.” He slid his entire hand beneath your underwear and cupped your centre, squeezing like he owned it. “Maybe you want him to know you’re such a whore of a girl that you’ll take my fingers anywhere. I mean, look at how much you’ve opened your legs, and I didn’t even ask you to. I love when you behave just for me, honey.”

Joshua collapsed back at the table with a huff, combing some snow flurries from his hair. “We found the wallet.” He said.

Yet, you couldn’t even bring yourself to face him. Jeonghan had spread your lips with his index and ring finger, using his middle digit to make rhythmic, deep circles around the bud. An erotic whine escaped your teeth and Joshua’s eyes widened; his face tinged with concern.

“Are you alright?” He questioned. “Did you get a Charlie horse?”

“N-No, I’m fine, really.” You composed yourself with a weak smile, and took a sip from your wine. “I got one of those rib pains.”

The blonde boy winced. “Ouch, those hurt big time.”

Honestly, you didn’t think it was possible to endure dessert without revealing to some degree that you were being, well, stretched open by Jeonghan. It was sheer torture staring at the waiter while he took your order, knowing the boy was lazily pumping his fingers inside you with a half-smirk seated so comfortably to his face. When that huge, delicious slice of cream red velvet cake was placed before you on the table, you could only fork a few pathetic bites, and when Joshua offered you to try a spoonful from his warm apple pudding, you nearly squealed the word no as Jeonghan rolled your sore clit between his fingertips. The most egregious aspect to the entire daubable was that the boy stripped your orgasm from you at the very last second, like stopping a rollercoaster just before it tips over the downhill plummet.

“How was the ice cream?” Joshua asked him innocently.

You observed with horror as Jeonghan brought that sinful hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue against his two fingertips as though he were actually savouring a sweet and flavourful vanilla.

“Delicious.” He grinned, catching your mortified stupor from the corner of his eye. “I’d taste it again in a heartbeat, Shua.”

Dropping the slice of bread into a shallow bowl, you used the spatula to submerge it underneath the milk, egg and cinnamon mixture until it was completely coated. Then, you slid the bread onto your buttered frying pan to let its surfaces crisp and brown. Since you began utilizing the service granted by the Love Café, life at your depressing excuse for an apartment was becoming more bearable, though your ultimate goal would be to ditch the paper-thin walls and insult-spewing neighbours once money was no longer a prevalent issue. You were still insistent on supporting yourself too, if you could ever score a job.

You flipped the bread onto its opposite face, pressing it down with the spatula as the pan sizzled and the butter popped. A few days had passed since your last intimacy with Jeonghan, and the proof would have been stamped to your Love Card if the boy had actually written his initials like usual. The thing was, Jeonghan – who had always been so firm and unwavering on the rules of the café – was now skirting about the regulations as though they were optional. There were days when he didn’t even initial the card, but still delivered his transactions. In fact, you were almost positive that sex had happened more than twelve times and that you could be renewing your card if wanted (you didn’t).

As silly and cliché as it sounded, you liked Jeonghan. You constantly thought about him and missed him and wondered what he was doing while you were trapped in bed listening to another argument between your spiteful neighbours. There was always a deep, electric pounding in your chest upon weaving the tips of your fingers along his skin, touching him, exploring him. Yet, when he held you close, tucked your body tight against his like there was nothing surrounding you but ice, comfort found a home in your belly like a warm, homecooked meal.

After spilling some icing sugar and strawberries across the toast, now fried a delicious shade of golden-brown, you took a seat at the counter and dug in. There had been an occasion where Jeonghan brought you breakfast after warping your legs into complete gelatine (you had no idea that kitchen table sex could be so fiery and passionate), which proved to be a pleasant morning, where you could still feel the softness of his thumb as he kindly brushed some whipped cream from your bottom lip. You sighed, sticking a strawberry into your mouth. How foolish it might be to fall this far and this devotedly for someone like him.

But you didn’t want to stop yourself.

In fact, you reached for your phone across the counter, swiped into your messages, and decided to be bold. You texted him.

[ 9:29 AM ]: Hey! I know that I’m not supposed to send you anything unrelated to our business lol, but

[9:29 AM ]: Just wondering if you’re available to grab a coffee with me or something along those lines?

Setting the phone down and turning it over so you wouldn’t be tempted to helplessly wait for a notification, you continued eating. After scraping the last few pieces of toast and syrup around the plate, there was a vibration and a quick, ding! Strangely, you were starting to sweat.

[ Jeonghan | 9:34 AM ]: Sorry. In a lecture rn.

Of course, your surge of bravery immediately dehydrated, and you decided it was best to pretend that you hadn’t asked him anything at all – for your confidence’s sake. The next two hours were spent cleaning the kitchen, taking a short walk outside the complex to feel the Northern air refresh your face, and finally, a long bath, in which you nearly fell asleep and drowned as the steam lulled your eyes shut. While wrapping your body snug in that new, hot pink bath towel, you heard a knock at the door. You assumed it was the painter who occupied the room directly below yours, as you had borrowed his vacuum the night before, though you weren’t exactly raving at the thought of answering him in a towel.

However, by squinting through the fisheye lens, you were shocked (and greatly relieved) to discover that it wasn’t the middle-aged painter dressed in his splattered, dirty overalls, but Jeonghan.

And he was holding a drink.

You unlocked the door.

“Uh, hello after all. What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you and held up the cardboard cup, “my lecture ended, and I thought I’d do you a solid. Couldn’t remember if it was two sugars-one cream, or two creams-one sugar. So I tossed a coin.”

“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.

“Heads,” Jeonghan answered, “two sugars-one cream it is.”

“You’re lucky that’s correct.”

Accepting the warm cup from his hand, you set it carefully on the kitchen counter. When you returned to the door, Jeonghan was evidently ogling you. He really suited the image of a casual university student when he wasn’t dressed to gems and jewels in his sumptuous clothing.

“I knew the hot pink towel would look good on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dropping it, so forget it.”

“Whoa,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t ask you to drop it, sweetheart. I’d rather you not actually, with this door wide open and everything.”

“Did I really just hear that from you, Mr, Dinner Table?” Folding your arms, you stared him down with an accusing expression.

He held up one finger in defense. “First of all, that was under the table, so unless someone bumped their fork or something, then we were pretty much safe. This is you dropping your whole towel right in the doorway like there isn’t a weirdo probably peeping you across the hall as we speak. And I’m not letting anyone look at you like that, ever.”

“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he couldn’t spot the flustered heart pumping your chest beneath the towel, “you’ve made your point.”

Jeonghan checked his silver wrist watch, “fuck. I gotta get going, need to be at the studio so I can be a taper dummy again.”

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”

Suddenly, the boy was cupping each side of your face in his hands, and his lips pressed soft but quick to your forehead. Jeonghan then pinched your thigh under the towel, a gesture which felt oddly endearing rather than sexual, before he left the corridor.

“Later!” He’d called.

Shutting the door, you returned to your seat at the counter, holding the coffee cup up to your mouth as you took a small, nervous sip.

How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?

Jeonghan’s washroom was somehow nicer than your entire apartment, and you were fairly certain that your eyes had never seen so much white-grey marble, all squeaky-clean and aglow with lights. He’d shot you a text roughly an hour ago, right after he was released from the painful effort required to keep Joshua’s peewee soccer players in check, wondering if you were available to come over. Of course, the innocence to the term ‘come over’ was nothing more than a euphemism, a means of sugar coating what Jeonghan actually intended: to be inside you no doubt. And since the boy was so drained and unwilling to instigate any work himself, Jeonghan decided that a steaming, hot bath should do.

Well – a bath which involved you seated on his dick. The tub was dark grey tile, square-shaped, and practically the size of a small jacuzzi. It even had a bench to sit on. While it had been difficult at first to simply cockwarm the boy – when all you could feel was how deeply he spearheaded into your sensitive spot and how this shock would ripple from your abdomen at even his gentlest movement– you knew he wasn’t looking to make things quick and temporary. Therefore, you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck while his circled your waist beneath the water. Both of you were starting to fall asleep.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder, only to remember that you were indeed naked and this heat lapping around you was definitely not a blanket, “can I tell you something?”

With his eyes still shut, he nodded, his fingers digging appreciatively at your hips. “Of course you can, baby.” He replied, his voice sounding deeper than usual as he orientated on the edges of sleep.

Smiling, you combed through the damp hairs at his nape, your voice reverberating like a musical instrument off the marble. “Remember the salon place? They called me two days ago, said they had an opening for me and that I could start next Monday. I… I wanted to text you about it, like, as soon as it happened. But I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“What? Really?” Jeonghan was staring at you now, his head straightened from its leisurely position against the edge of the tub and cocked with interest. The fact he seemed so intrigued, that you could read the genuine excitement building up in those brown eyes, had almost made you happier than the salon’s phone call. “Congratulations!” He leaned forward to kiss you, pecking your lips chastely the first time, and then slower come the second, his hands squeezing your thighs.

After a tiny laugh, you sighed contentedly. “Thank you. It’s going to be so nice having my own cashflow and everything. And if I can work my way up and become like, a kickass hair stylist? Can you imagine?”

“Should I grow my hair out more so you can practice cutting it? You’ve got a steady hand, don’t you?” Jeonghan asked, mostly teasing, as you could imagine his parents harping him during his next session at Opal Studio if he looked as though he’d ran through some hedge clippers.

Returning the affection, you kissed the rosy tip of his nose. “I think my hands are pretty steady. We’ll find out I guess, and we’ll know for sure if a huge chunk of your hair falls to the floor.”

Your laughter immediately mingled, and you hid your smile against the boy’s neck, a very moonstruck, loopy smile which felt like riding a blazing comet between the stars. If you were legitimately able to climb higher amongst the business, then you could picture a life in which you didn’t need to lean on Jeonghan and the Love Café for financial support. In fact, there were moments where you felt rather dirty using his money even when he was completely insistent on such matters, like buying food and paying off bills. You held tight to a certain hope, that you could become independent again, and maybe, just maybe, be able to keep this beautiful boy whom you once thought would hate you.

His fingers tapped up your spine, urging you to face him.

“Seriously,” Jeonghan said, “I’m happy for you.”

“I know,” you answered, so quietly he could hardly hear it.

And then, you decided to kiss Jeonghan, placing your damp hand upon his cheek while your mouths slotted together. The contact had lost its grace almost instantly, and the kiss turned from a sweet gesture to a sensuality so thick you could feel it swelter the air and pool between your legs. He offered his tongue for you to suckle by sliding it smoothly into your mouth, and from there, Jeonghan’s intended relaxation had vanished. His hands grazed to the front of your body, reaching up and sliding back and forth over each breast. It wasn’t until Jeonghan began massaging his thumbs in circular motions around your nipples that you moaned into his mouth, a sound which flicked a smirk to his face.

Once his lips were shiny and slick with your saliva, he moved each kiss down the side of your neck, now pinching at your nipples, even twisting gently and making sure to ease the dull throb by rubbing them afterward. It was becoming unbearable. You needed to move. However, the second you started a rhythm in Jeonghan’s lap, he shook his head.

“Be still,” he told you, lightly gripping your chin.

The desperation in your whine was horribly apparent, almost soaking each word. “No Jeonghan, I-I can’t do that anymore—” ignoring him, you continued to grind your hips and move the water around you, feeling his engorged head tick against that one spot of insane pleasure, “I need t’cum now, all over your cock.” With every bounce in his lap, you begged, “please, please, please.” This prompted Jeonghan to grab your waist much tighter than usual and slam you down, holding you still.

“No, not like that,” he grunted, and you wondered if his control was simply otherworldly or if he was just that talented at hiding how good he felt. “I’ll make you cum, sweetheart,” Jeonghan nodded, “but you can’t move. I just want you to sit there, all the way down.”

He then leaned in close to your face, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, and that’s when you felt his thumb brush with a featherlight, fleeting touch across your clit. The sudden stimulation jerked your body. Jeonghan bit his lip and grinned while continuing the sensitive touch, the pressure becoming heavier with each minute that passed. Your thighs started to tremble, and your moans were echoing around the washroom.

The honeyed dirty talk crawled up Jeonghan’s throat. “You’re such a cute little cocksleeve, sweetheart,” he purred, titling his head as he rubbed his thumb faster, “oh, look at you, baby. Shaking and crying and taking it like it’s the only thing you’re good for—” a messy kiss to calm you down, thin strings of saliva hanging in the air each time your mouths separated, “I bet you’re gonna cum for me soon, right?” The boy encouraged, keeping his forehead flush to yours so he could observe with utmost clarity the beautiful contortions of your face. “I know you are, sweetheart. Because it feels so good, right?” You nodded frantically, digging your fingers into his neck like a cat sinking in its claws. Jeonghan’s thumb pushed beneath the hood of your clit, directly massaging the soft bud, and the pleasure inside you leapt to a new high which made you dumbly lose all sense.

“Cum.” Jeonghan commanded so gently, his gaze burning against your eyes, squeezed shut. At the straightforward word, you allowed the sensation to swallow you like a current, and the hot, teary cry you mewled had been quickly snuffed as the boy pushed his lips to yours.

“Can feel you clenching so fucking tight around my cock,” he chuckled, digging his nose into your hair and speaking warmly beside your ear, “and how much you’re throbbing right under my thumb. Must feel so good, sweetheart, cumming all over me like such a good girl.”

You slumped against him, overwhelmed, emptied, and breathing so heavy that you were afraid the oxygen might dwindle completely from your lungs. The fact Jeonghan could remain so composed while buried to the hilt in your heat was something else that frightened you, though, in the moment, you preferred not to think about it, instead concentrating on the distant sensation of Jeonghan drawing galactic shapes to each your shoulder blades.

Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.

Once you started the receptionist job at the hair salon, you had bumped into Joshua on a Friday evening. While his platinum blonde look was indeed enchanting and princely, he complained that it was difficult to maintain the roots, and that he often found himself back in the stylist’s chair for a touch up. He’d come in on a whim. Luckily – due to the late hour – there was an open seat, and Joshua puffed a great sigh of relief as he hooked his jacket onto the salon coat hanger. Curious if there was more behind the reason to his abrupt appearance, you conversed with him while he waited for the stylist to tidy up her work area.

That’s when Joshua informed you of the Opal’s Galleria Night, a fashion exhibition which would display Mr. Yoon’s newest edition for his upcoming Spring line. Joshua seemed surprised that you hadn’t known about the Galleria, or, that Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned it to you. Oddly enough, Jeonghan had been radio silent the past three days; not a phone call, or a voice memo, or even a text. Yesterday you had hoped to catch him stuck in the books at the library, but the area where he usually sat was occupied by a study group of freshman. It concerned you a little.

An ungraceful quickie in the washroom after his three-hour lecture ended on Tuesday was your last encounter. Not to mention, there was only one more opening left on your Love Card.

“He didn’t say anything,” you told Joshua, pretending to act indifferent “so… I don’t think he wants me there. It’s not a big deal.”

Yet, that’s not how you truly felt. There had to be some reason for the boy’s keeping you in the dark. Did he not want to explain the ‘friends’ trope to all the Galleria members, like at the dinner? Or, was he thinking that you wouldn’t be interested? It wasn’t easy to seem unphased.

“Jeonghan doesn’t need to invite you,” Joshua had said, “cause I’ll invite you myself. Mr. Yoon said it was more than fine if I brought someone along. So, why not you? It’ll make the night more fun.”

At first, you vehemently rejected the invite, no matter how sweetly Joshua attempted to rope you into a night of free perfume samples, delicious catering food and a chocolate fountain perfect for dipping strawberries. However, when the hair stylist pulled Joshua away to fix his darkening roots, you had much time to mull over the offer, and even the fact you felt poignant about dismissing it. As you tapped a pen against the desk, staring out the window into the grey, dulling sky, you convinced yourself there could be no harm in attending the Opal’s Galleria Night. Besides, you and Jeonghan weren’t cast in stone. He probably wouldn’t bat any eyelash anyways, knowing his eased nature.

And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.

You told him you’d changed your mind.

When Jeonghan first saw you at the Opal Galleria, it was from across the ballroom that had been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, stood next to a mannequin draped in a cherub-pink slip dress. Almost comically, he gagged on some sparkling champagne held in a thin and tall glass, though he recovered smoothly as to not interrupt the conversation his father was sharing with the dense crowd. You waved at him, not too noticeably of course, but he either didn’t catch it or had decided to ignore the gesture. Shrugging, you tried not to overthink it.

Mannequins were lined up along both sides of the ballroom, adorned in the mild tones baring semblance to Spring, with the blips of baby blues, clementine oranges, and cream violets transforming the Galleria into an acrylic painting. Jeonghan’s mother took the opportunity to offer some spritzes from her most recent line, which had both you and Joshua smelling like a tulip garden. While exploring the room with the blonde boy, you stopped to examine a mannequin dressed in a relaxed, high-waisted pant and a lace camisole that seemed breezy and flowing. This collection was definitely tamer compared to the usual extravagance you had always seen through the store windows and in magazines.

“Would you wear it?” Joshua asked, chewing on a strawberry that he might as well have plucked from thin air.

Tilting your head and squinting, you took a moment to contemplate. “If it was my size I might, if I could find a price hanging off somewhere. But I don’t want to even touch it. Mannequins are weird.”

“No prices are usually displayed at the Gallerias,” Joshua informed you, “though, I will agree. It’s probably a Toy Story thing where they all start moving at night when no one’s here. Spooky, huh?”

You sighed at him, “thanks for the nightmare material.”

Suddenly, there was a tap to your bare shoulder, and you nearly yelped like a cat with a stepped-on tail as Joshua laughed between bites from his juicy strawberry. Turning around, you were met with Jeonghan, who had this flat-lined, unenthusiastic smile hardly touching the corners of his mouth. He looked rather agitated in fact, and you felt cold inside.

“Hey!” Joshua exclaimed, punching his friend’s arm. “Finally escape your dad’s novella-length speech on the pink slip?”

The crowd once gathered around the mannequin had started to disperse, with the visitors now exploring the rest of the outfits.

Jeonghan hardly payed any mind to his friend, throwing out an impatient, “yeah, it was whatever,” before he began questioning you. He started with a rather inhospitable, “why are you here?”

“I invited her,” Joshua announced, “since I ran into her at that salon place. I thought it would be nice and everything. The Gallerias can get pretty stiff if you come alone. Plus, there’s chocolate fountains.”

He appeared nettled, like he’d woken up and spilled coffee on his favourite shirt. You couldn’t place the exact emotion, nor could you identify the reason behind Jeonghan acting as though there were one-hundred choice words waiting to zap off the tip of his tongue. For an instant, you wondered if it would be worthwhile to question him, though there was a shout of the boy’s name and you spotted his parents beckoning him over from across the exhibition. Jeonghan merely rolled his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as he’d arrived to accompany them.

You folded your arms concerningly. “Do you know if something’s wrong? I haven’t seen him like that before.”

Joshua dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. “He’s probably stressing over something. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s not really one to blow up or get all in your face. I’ll talk to him later.”

Seeing as there were others who wanted to examine the camisole mannequin, you and Joshua seated yourselves at a tiny table right beside the chocolate fountain and catering foods. Though, you were unable to quell the curiosity at what Jeonghan was needed for, prompting your eyes to wander as unnaturally as possible in his direction. He’d just pulled a young woman into a hug, and she was positively gorgeous, dressed in a silk-fabric dress, form fitting and ruby red, with an elegant slit parting up to her right thigh. Her ponytail was slicked shiny as though her hair had been styled professionally, and she flaunted a dreamy smile that reminded you of a vintage female heroine.

And then, like a slap to the face, you realized she must be the woman whom Jeonghan’s parents seemed to be obsessed over.

Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.

She mentioned something into his ear, and they became giggly, the two pulling in again for another short hug. Jeonghan’s father gestured back to the pink slip mannequin, and the four walked over to discuss it for the umpteenth time. You wondered if she was going to be modeling some of the clothing. The assumption felt correct as Baejin touched the dress’ delicate fabric and the beaded, glimmering string tied around the tiny waist. Quickly, Jeonghan fetched the girl a champagne glass, the two drinking together while the father appeared to be entering another in-depth explanation. And, perhaps dignifiedly so, you were feeling mislead and upset. You speculated if this could be the reason for him to keep the Opal Galleria a secret – Jeonghan didn’t want you to catch even a glimpse of him reuniting with Baejin.

They hardly portrayed two ex’s who were now settled on different chapters to their lives. The longer you stared, the angrier, yet, more confused you felt. As you thought before, the odd relationship between you and Jeonghan was not set in stone, and it certainly didn’t ignite with the intention of actual love taking a blossom to your doorstep. It could be that you were jumping to conclusions, misreading things, or disillusioned by your tendency to wishfully think. Nonetheless, the sight still hurt.

Joshua bumped your elbow.

“Are you hungry at all? The scent from the catering tables is getting to me. I can grab a plate for you, if you want.”

With a sigh and a fragile smile, you shook your head. “No, I’ll come with you. Besides, you don’t know what I like anyways.”

“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.

He stuck out his hand for you to take while rising from the chair.

Grabbing a small plate, you started at the end of the catering table and began making your way down, using the plastic tongs to serve yourself some spring rolls. Joshua filed after you, instead taking a bowl and scooping up some of the fresh zucchini pasta. Admittedly, you had lost your appetite after watching Jeonghan act so cordially with Baejin, though you were determined to not let the plight sour the otherwise enjoyable night you were having with Joshua. Once you reached the chocolate fountain, you swore a sparkle jumped into his eye.

“Why are you so obsessed with the fountain?” You had tried not to laugh as you asked the question.

The blonde boy looked aghast. “Because, it’s beautiful!” He picked up a strawberry arranged neatly around the base, dipping the edge briefly beneath the chocolate. “I mean, how can they make it so delicious and velvety? When I came to my first Galleria, I spent like, half my night just standing by the fountain, eating the fruit.”

You couldn’t help but think Joshua was adorable, and you grinned at him, “well, maybe I don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.”

“Just shush up and try this.”

He held out the strawberry, inviting you for a taste. At first, you paused, wondering if there was some flirtatious intention behind the gesture or if Joshua was just being his overtly kind self. And then, you held onto his wrist and took a bite from the strawberry, the warmth of the melted chocolate satin-smooth against your tongue.

Wiping the edge of your mouth, you nodded. “It is pretty tasty, actually. Let me try dipping it. You make it look weirdly fun.”

After setting down the catering plate, you took Joshua’s strawberry while he picked up a new one. Together, you pushed your fruits beneath the streaming chocolate, twisting it at the green leaf to fully coat the sides. So it wouldn’t drip, you immediately took a huge bite with a hand placed just below your mouth, humming contentedly.

“Okay,” you mumbled, still chewing, “I can see why you like this so much. I think I could get addicted to chocolate strawberry dipping.”

“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, “oh! Look, there’s whipped cream here and I didn’t even see it!” He set down his plate beside yours and grabbed the bottle like an eager little child. Popping off the cap, Joshua shook the can and pressed his fingertip against the nozzle, spraying a white-frosted peak onto the top of another strawberry. You copied him, though you had accidently sprayed too much. Once you licked the cream off your finger, you poked the entire fruit into your mouth like a funfetti-sized cupcake. For some reason, Joshua started giggling at you.

“What?” You glared at him playfully. “What’s wrong?”

Rosy tinges flushed to the arch of Joshua’s cheeks. “Uhm… Well, l-let me just—” he stuttered, cupping his hand gently to your face, his thumb brushing at a spot right below your bottom lip. “You had some whipped cream on your… chin slash lip. Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh, it’s okay.” You were stumbling yourself, tongue darting out instinctively to ensure there wasn’t anything still there.

At random, you felt this prickle tiptoe up the back of your neck, a sensation that was hardly perceptible yet singeing enough for you to notice it. Gulping, you peered toward that faceless mannequin draped in its pink slip dress, toward Jeonghan, Baejin, and his parents who were enthralled in a conversation with her. Jeonghan was glaring so blatantly at Joshua that you’d forgotten how to speak, and you couldn’t even pronounce a single word of warning as the boy started storming his way across the ballroom.

His grip was on your elbow like a viper’s teeth.

“Geez, where’d you come from?” Joshua said, though he was able to note the tension this time, and Jeonghan’s surly behaviour.

“I need to talk to you,” Jeonghan murmured by your ear, ignoring Joshua yet again, “in the hall just outside the exhibition.”

You didn’t want to agree. Strangely enough, you felt this urge balloon inside you, an urge to cause a gigantic scene with screaming and thick tears and unnecessary curses, because as much as you wanted to dismiss your anger, there were jealous, wronged feelings inside, on fire and itching to escape from your gut. Miraculously, you held your composure, and announced to Joshua that you’d talk to him later.

Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.

It was like a lightning bolt, how quickly he exploded.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeonghan ranted, pacing back and forth as the distant echo of music bled through the wall. “Seriously, I don’t text you back for like, three days, and you’re already going on a date with my best friend—” he softened his voice in a purposefully mocking way, “letting him get all delicate with you, feeding you all lovey-dovey style and wiping that cream off your lip. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”

“Excuse me?” Your brow instantly creased like a folded map, and you felt an intense ache hit the front of your skull. “Um, you’re one to talk! How come you didn’t tell me about the Galleria? Because you didn’t want me to see you with your arm around your ex’s waist? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to show off to your parents?”

Jeonghan gawked at you. “Baejin? For real? You think I’ve been secretly dating her behind your back or something?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You barked, tucking your arms defensively across the chest. And, while it might have been too early into the argument to pit such a statement, you had already started bubbling, and you knew there was nothing to snuff your fire. “Besides, you hardly ever get back to me apart from when you want to fuck!”

At that, the boy was momentarily stumped. What sounded like a rebuttal fizzled at the back of his throat, though it faded away. The silence worried you, because it echoed a confirmation that Jeonghan might’ve actually never seen as you as anything more than an outlet to alleviate his carnality. That, once the Love Café ordeal was finally over with, he could forget you had ever existed like erasing a mistake of smudged lead. The thought made you glassy-eyed and thus, terribly vulnerable. However, you also craved the truth to your relationship.

“Just admit it,” you beseeched him, “admit that you want me only for sex and nothing else. Is that why you didn’t bring up the Galleria? Because you think it’s easier to shove me in the dark when it’s convenient for you? Is that why you were acting so mad?”

He skimmed a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not dating Baejin behind your back, I have never once thought you weren’t good enough to show off to my parents, and I didn’t purposefully hide the Galleria from you.”

“Right,” you scoffed, “but you’re fine with labelling me as a friend and pretending like we don’t hook up every week.”

“It’s…” he clenched his teeth and growled in frustration, “it’s complicated, alright? Can’t you just accept that?”

“Complicated?” A shudder coursed down your spine at having to repeat the boy, and the tears sprung from your eyes with such a sharp sting that it became impossible to hold them back. You felt each drop, cold and runny, drip along your face. “That’s the word you’re going to use? You’re going to look straight at me, after the entire span of our relationship since the Love Café, and tell me we’re summed up best as complicated?” Again, the word struck you like a stiff punch. If he was going to regard your connection so trivially, then you didn’t care whether or not he knew the verity of your heart. Like it would affect him anyways.

“I would’ve said we were in love,” you shrugged, watching his expression drop in a mere instant, “but—sure, let’s call it complicated.”

And, with the tears shining like salt stars on your face, you stalked out the building into the softening winter weather.

You didn’t know it could be so difficult to ignore someone, especially when you were supposed to hate them. The effect Jeonghan had on you was almost phantom-like; a constant lingering, even if the boy himself wasn’t palpable and poised right before your eyes.

It had been three days since the outburst at the Galleria. That night, you cried, and wept, and broke out the amber bottle stored beneath your sink which was only sipped from in occasions of complete misery – very well suited to the situation at hand. You had questioned calling the Love Café’s customer service desk to issue a termination of your card, and, at one point, you were standing drunkenly by the toilet contemplating your decision to rip up the red paper and flush it. Though, nothing ever came of either idea. Instead, you faceplanted onto your bed and allowed the intoxicated dizziness to fade black. The next morning, you were faced with multiple texts from Jeonghan, missed phone calls, voice notes. But you didn’t listen or respond to anything.

Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.

Absolutely not, you had thought that morning, you weren’t ready to speak with him, even if the temptation seemed like it could be promising. The air was still too bitter. And you couldn’t handle another argument.

On the second day after the outburst, you were seated at the receptionist desk in the salon, flicking through a magazine while you became increasingly mindless to the humming of the blow dryer and the potent fragrance of the hair products. When you glanced out the window, you nearly combusted, as both Joshua and Jeonghan were about to enter the salon together, hurrying in from the melted snow and winter’s final downpour. You hid in the breakroom until they left, forcing your co-worker to take your position at the desk. Joshua was apparently getting his hair trimmed while Jeonghan had asked about you at the reception.

“He’s gorgeous!” Your co-worker had immediately gushed to you in the breakroom. “Why are you avoiding someone like that?”

“It’s complicated.” You’d phrased it simply.

Dang it. You hated the fact you’d used that stupid word.

But, on the third day, most of your bitterness was gone.

After breakfast, you were back at the vanity mirror to prepare for work, and while you buffed some makeup to sit seamlessly on the skin with your puffy foundation brush, there was a knock at your door. This time, you didn’t bother peeping through the fisheye lens, because you knew exactly who it was – damn his persistence. Jeonghan’s brown hair had been slightly mused in the wind, and there was a glow as soft as a peach to each his cheeks. But that easygoing, relaxed smile was by far the most heart fluttering. He extended a coffee cup to you. When you reached out, Jeonghan suddenly pulled the coffee away with a tsking sound.

“You can have it only if—” he held up his finger, “you agree to let me in so I can explain myself. Yes, I’m bribing you. And yes, I’m an asshole from time to time. But five minutes at least. That’s all I need.”

For a moment, you wavered, only to mutter a resounding, “fine.”

Despite Jeonghan’s company, you still had work to get ready for, so the boy followed you into the bedroom. He took a seat on the edge of your mattress while you settled back into the vanity chair. Picking through your jar of makeup brushes, you plucked a round, oval-tipped one to apply your eyeshadow. Jeonghan was silent at first, watching you through the mirror as you hurried about the look. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was a bit sloppy and rushed and there was already some fallout sitting like a glittered dust on your cheeks, though Jeonghan was staring at you with such fondness, you wondered if the mirror was reflecting the same image. Of course, the Love Card was sitting on your desk too.

“Well,” you spun around in the chair, pressing your lips together, “I’m waiting for you to explain, y’know. Like you said you would. Technically, you’ve lost a couple minutes, and I should really try to be at the salon early, but I’m still going to give you full time since—"

“I love you.”

“… What?”

“I love you,” Jeonghan repeated himself casually, a slow smile spilling from each corner of his mouth, “I’m in love with you, as deep as I could be, I think. Anyways, you want me to keep saying it? I love you.”

It felt like someone had taken a picture with the blinding glare of its flash, a picture you couldn’t be more unprepared for, the dots still dancing and fumbling across your vision. The moment was disorienting, but you experienced a very fulgurant warmth take shape inside you. It was comforting yet daunting, a sugar rush and a hangover, something so alive you knew you wanted it more than anything else in the world.

Yet, “you… are in love with me?” was all that you could express.

Jeonghan fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re a funny girl, you know that? But I can say it a fifth time if you want.”

“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”

“Yeah, I can see that, “ he’d laughed, though it quickly fell into a sigh and suddenly Jeonghan’s temperament had shifted. “Look, I know that night wasn’t pretty. I know I ghosted you. I know I didn’t tell you about the stupid Galleria,” the boy glanced up, catching your eye, “but… I didn’t say anything because I was confused. I knew your Love Card only had one signature left, and just like that… you could be in my bed for the last time. If we’re really gonna get sentimental about it,”

Jeonghan chuckled, scratching his chin a bit shyly, “it could be my last time holding you, and kissing you… I just, I didn’t want it to be like that. But I didn’t know how to confront you about it, so I hid. And I stressed myself out, and I got so stupidly jealous and angry when I saw you with Joshua. That was my bad. I should’ve been upfront.”

Tucking your hands together anxiously in your lap, you nodded, beginning to understand the missing pieces.

“Thank you for saying that.” You murmured, tapping your feet in a nervous rhythm against the floor. “I… I was being unreasonable and jealous too,” you subsequently admitted, “I was assuming things about you and Baejin when I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was expecting anyways, that you act like she doesn’t exist? It was dumb, and I was adding pressure. I’m sorry too.” Wanting to lighten the tone, you smiled at him, “I guess we both have our flaws, huh?”

He returned the tender glance and held out the coffee cup.

“I guess we do.”

You grabbed it politely.

Turning around in the chair, you grabbed the bright red Love Card off the vanity, initialed until its last circle, “what should we do with this? I mean, we kind of messed up their rules, fooling around more than twelve times. And, well, I’m not gonna renew it.”

“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.

As soon as you passed the card to him, he ripped it clean in half, crumpled each piece, balled them together in his hands and tossed the shreds into the trash can sat in the corner.

“Well, that was fucking easy,” he smiled, getting up from the mattress, “aren’t you late for work? Do you need a drive?”

You looked at your alarm clock.

“If you can get me there in the next ten minutes, that’d be great.”

Jeonghan headed to the front door while you hurriedly grabbed your coat from the closet and snatched your bag off the floor, resting the strap over your shoulder. With the coffee still in hand, you headed into the living area, looking around in one final swoop to make sure you had everything packed for the day. A sheet of sunlight spilt into the room from outside the window, pale, like the morning sky, yet filling every crevice of the cheap apartment with a dull shine. And for a very fleeting moment, you thought this place wasn’t so abhorrent. It had been your home, your stepping stone, a thumbprint which identified a period of hardship and growth. But, despite this bittersweet taste on your tongue, you couldn’t envision yourself staying.

“Come on,” Jeonghan pinched your hip, “at this rate I’ll get a speeding ticket trying to get you to work on time.”

Turning around, you stuck a kiss to the boy’s cheek, just catching the cool beginning of a smirk on that dazzling face of his as you interlaced your fingers and pulled him into the corridor.

No, you could not stay here.

Not when your future was with Jeonghan.

✧✎ a/n: yeah, so this was clearly A LOT longer than the original love café teehee. i remembered the plot vaguely therefore i refused to reread my first version weufhewif PLS IT MAKES ME CONVULSE SO BAD !! i just had to rewrite the plot and do it some actual justice! i hope this version is a lot better and that you rly enjoyed it! i wish yjh would give me money but i guess we can’t all live in a fantasy world!! thx for reading!!

#caratwritersclub #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #seventeen jeonghan #svt smut #yoon jeonghan #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader

4K notes · View notes

imhereformr · 3 years

Text

It had been years since he’d had to sneak in somewhere. Riven’s position as captain in the Magix Elite Force granted him easy access to just about anywhere he needed or wanted so long as he could justify his reason for being there. But this, he had no valid reason. It would result in his suspension, if not complete dismissal, from the force. He didn’t think he’d get caught – you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks, but that doesn’t mean they forgot old ones – but even if he did, he knew he had to take the risk.

Nabu had been the one to tell him. About the relationship; the engagement; and the – in Riven’s opinion – far too rushed wedding. He wanted her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. He did. He also knew he should just let her go, let her marry whatever the fuck his name was, but he couldn’t not try. She needed to know how he felt even if he was years too late.

Musa had been the one to break it off. It had nearly broken him; he’d refused to leave his room in his and Timmy’s apartment for weeks afterwards. Ultimately, she’d been right, though. They were becoming different people – growing apart – and it was better to break up now than wait until their different paths became too much and they grew to resent each other.

Musa had released her first album a year before they’d broken up. Her tour had been hard, with him having to stay in Magix for work and her being everywhere, but he’d thought they could survive it. Their relationship had already survived so much. Musa’s star, though, had only begun to shine. Over the years after the breakup, she only became more and more successful. Every bit of which she deserved, and every bit of which Riven had followed from afar.

She’d offered for them to stay friends once the wounds had healed but Riven had declined. All the news he got of her was from the guys or magazines. His therapist – he'd gone to see a therapist; Musa would have been so proud – agreed that it was best to cut her off entirely. Beyond the whole listening to her music thing, Riven thought he’d done pretty well at that. It had only taken him a year to stop looking her up borderline obsessively, he’d dated other people, he’d even had a serious relationship or two. His only problem was that none of the others were Musa. No matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to come back to her.

So here he was, the day of her wedding, climbing a tree on the side of the hotel she was getting married at, praying that he’d be able to find the room she was getting ready in before the ceremony started. And that she’d be willing to hear him out.

Riven managed to find an open window that led into the end of a hallway. He made his way through the navy halls, stopping to listen for her voice behind every single oversized door. Nabu, after some bribery and threats, had told him that Musa and the girls would be getting ready on the fourth floor. He’d begged Riven to think through his actions and not do anything stupid, but Riven was also certain that Nabu was on board with whatever his plan was. From his description of Musa’s fiancé, he hadn’t sounded too fond of the guy.

The sound of footsteps put Riven on high alert. He managed to duck into a broom closet just in time to see Stella turn the corner. Jackpot. The blonde swung her long, gently curled hair over her shoulder and punched in a code on the door pad opposite his hiding spot. From the door, he heard a sound he would recognise anywhere: Musa’s voice. Double jackpot. Now he just had to pray that the girls would leave Musa alone for at least a minute at some point before the ceremony started.

He stood in that closet, watching her door for close to half an hour when his saving grace arrived in the form of an older woman with greying brown hair piled high on her head and a clipboard in her hand. She punched in the code to the door – which Riven paid much closer attention to this time – and exited three minutes later with the five bridesmaids in tow.

And no bride. This was turning out to be much easier than he’d anticipated.

Riven seized his opportunity the minute the woman he assumed was the wedding planner and Musa’s friends were out of sight. The light on the lock turned green on the first try and he slunk into the room as quietly as possible. Musa was turned away from him, staring at herself in mirror. Lucky too because it wouldn’t have made for a very good winning-her-back moment for her to see his jaw drop and his mind go entirely blank.

Musa wore a minimalistic, figure-flattering white dress with spaghetti straps, a deep V and a low back. She wore very little jewelry: a pair of diamond earrings, her engagement ring and her mother’s necklace – the one she never took off that he’d recovered in Black Mud Swamp the year they first met. Her long, dark hair was curled softly, like she was a movie star right out of the 1950s. He missed her hair; missed running his hands through it; missed the way he could bury his face in it when they hugged so that the smell of her shampoo could envelop him entirely; missed the way she would play with her pigtails when she was nervous; missed the way her hair would fall into his face when she leaned over to kiss him before they went to bed every night. More than anything, he missed her.

“Riven?” He stumbled out of his memories and into present day at the sound of her voice. She’d turned to face him, the train of her dress bunching at her feet as she spun. It had been so long since he’d heard her say his name. He’d forgotten how nice it sounded. “What are you doing here?”

“You look beautiful” he whispered thoughtlessly. Musa lowered her eyes, her face flushing like it had whenever he’d looked at her in the early days of their relationship. She ran her hands along the sides of her wedding dress – the dress she should be wearing for him – smoothing out non-existent creases in the fabric. It made him smile to know he could still make her blush like that.

“What are you doing here?” she asked again, bringing her hands together to fiddle with her engagement ring.

“I...” Fuck. How did he do this? “...Should have written something down.” Yes, that would’ve been a good idea. He wasn’t Helia; words didn’t come naturally to him. The old Riven would have turned around and walked away, wouldn’t have even given it a shot. He wasn’t the old Riven anymore, and he wasn’t leaving this room without Musa knowing how he felt. He’d have to wing it. “Don’t marry him.”

“Riven, I-”

“Please. Just hear me out.” Her objections ceased, and she lowered the hand she’d put out in a stop motion. “I love you. I have never stopped loving you. I have thought about you every single day for the last seven years, four months and twenty-one days. Since the day you left. And every single one of those days, I have kicked myself for letting you go; for not fighting harder for you. For us.”

Riven approached her. With every step, he felt his heart beat harder, coming to a brutal halt when he stepped in front of her. Her eyes, for the first time since he’d complimented her, met his. She was inches from him; so close that the smallest movement would bring them together. The heels she was wearing made her taller – brought the top of her head to his lip instead of his shoulder. Had his mind been anywhere other than desperately wanting her to come back to him, he would have commented that she hated heels with a passion, and he’d always thought she’d wear sneakers with her wedding dress even if Stella gave her a headache about it.

He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, not missing the way she leaned into his touch. Her heart longed for his just as much as his did for hers. “You belong with me, Muse. You know you do. We belong together.” His hand cupped her chin, pulling her into a kiss. Never had anything felt more right than his lips on hers. The second they connected; he knew everything would work out. He could beat the worst monsters, defeat his darkest demons, save the most helpless and conquer the universe as long as he had Musa by his side.

Musa’s hands came to rest on his chest, balling her manicured fingers into his thin white t-shirt and dragging him into her as they lost themselves in the kiss. The longer it went, the more certain he was that she would leave with him right then if he asked her to. He would have too, if the planner hadn’t punched in the door code and announced her presence through the heavy door.

“Gimme a second” Musa managed to shout, mere inches from Riven’s face, before the woman had entered the room. The planner shut the door, informing Musa that she would be right outside and that the ceremony was ready to begin.

Musa stepped back and Riven had to wrap his arms around her to keep her near him. “I have to go” she whispered.

“Please, please don’t marry him.” Teenage Riven would be mortified to hear his voice crack as he begged Musa not to choose someone else, but adult Riven couldn’t care less. He would beg and plead and grovel if it meant that she’d stay with him.

“It’s too late. I’m sorry.” She laid her hands on his chest and pushed their bodies apart. He watched, heart shattering, as she stepped away from him. Her voice broke, tears pooled in the corners of her eyes and her lower lip quivered, but ever his fierce Musa, she stayed strong. He wished, just this once, that she would break. Musa stepped away from him and turned towards the door, gathering the train of her dress in her hand as she walked away. She wiped her eyes quickly before grabbing the door handle.

“Musa,” he heard himself say before she had the chance to turn the knob. A deep sigh and she turned to him. He’d never been good at reading people, but Musa he knew. She wanted him to fight for her, she always had, and, for the most part, he always had. He always would. He’d just fucked up that one time when it mattered most. “I’ll be out front. If you change your mind.”

She didn’t answer, merely shook her head and then she was gone, whisked away through the door and down the hall by the planner. Riven sat himself onto the nearest piece of furniture – a fancy-looking emerald green couch in the corner of the hotel suite sitting room – and dropped his head in the palms of his hands trying to stop himself from crying and shaking.

He hadn’t felt pain like this in years, hadn’t felt anything like this in years. He hadn’t been numb – he’d known numb before and that wasn’t what the last few years had been – but life had been significantly less vivid. Everything always felt so much more with her. The lows could be soul-crushing agony, but the highs were pure ecstasy and worth every second of pain. He would willingly suffer through millennia of agony for just one hour of ecstasy with her again.

***

Musa’s mind buzzed as she followed Christina, the planner, through the hall and into the elevator, down to the main floor. The woman – an absolute godsend in the madness that was planning a wedding and a tour in the same four months – babbled on about how adorably nervous Liam – her fiancé – was.

She’d met Liam three years ago on a talk show. He was an actor – had started off as a child on a sitcom and managed to make the incredibly difficult transition from child star to serious adult actor. He’d been sweet and charming during the pre-interview and through the whole taping. They’d run into each other again a year later at a movie premiere – she'd sung the main theme and he was close friends with the star. He’d asked her out at the end of the night. He was cute – tall with broad shoulders and sharp features, just her type – so she’d said yes. It turned out that he was also funny and incredibly witty.

She loved him.

Christina led her out of the elevator and into one of the back hallways. At the end of the hall, Musa knew she’d find her friends and father waiting patiently for the ceremony to start. Musa knew what would happen: Christina would put them in order, then cue her assistant to tell the violinist to start playing – Riven had always loved hearing her play the violin, they’d talked about having one if ever they got married. Musa couldn’t let that detail go. Once the music started, the double doors would open onto the ceremony room. Hundreds of guests would be seated in the room, surrounded by thousands of dollars' worth of flowers and floating candles.

Much sooner than she’d anticipated, it was Tecna’s turn. The purple-haired fairy – her maid of honour – turned out of the waiting area and moved up to the double doors at exactly the speed Christina had indicated; not too fast like Flora had or too slow like Stella – who, realistically, had been enjoying the moment of spotlight – had. Musa’s father turned to her, a genuine smile on his face, to ask if she was ready. Musa smiled and nodded.

Her arm looped through her father’s and Christina handed her the bouquet of exquisite flowers – arranged by Flora, of course. The woman moved behind her to spread out her train. As she neared the door, the guests stood for her. Her father nodded to a few at the back that he recognised, but Musa’s focus was at the front.

Liam stood with his arms folded behind him. Riven would always stand with his hands in his pockets or his arms crossed. Liam’s smile widened when he saw her. Riven only smiled when he saw her. Liam mouthed the words I love you and Musa felt a pang. She’d just heard those words in a different voice, and they’d had so much more impact. Musa smiled at him, repeating the mantra in her head.

She loved him.

She was at the altar. Her father was hugging her and whispering that he loved her and wished her nothing but happiness. Musa was stepping up to the altar. Liam was shaking her father’s hand. The photographer’s assistant was adjusting her train for the photos. Liam was smiling at her. Tecna was taking the bouquet out of her hands. Liam was reaching out for her hands.

Musa snapped out of her haze. Her hands were in Liam’s and the officiant was welcoming the guests. Please turn your phones off. Don’t take any pictures. It’s not every day you meet someone that touches your soul. All the cheesy shit people said at weddings. Musa ignored the man they’d hired as she played the scene with Riven over in her mind.

He still loves her.

And she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t compared every boyfriend to him. Including Liam. She’d also be lying if she said that she didn’t think about him when she was alone. When she was lonely. When she wanted someone to hold her. When she touched herself. When she cried. When she laughed. When she had news to share. When she wrote a song she really loved.

It was always him.

Pressure on her hand brought her back to present day. Liam was saying his I do. He was giving her that smile that, up until fifteen minutes ago, she thought she’d be happy enough to see every day.

Happy enough.

Was that really enough?

“...Take Liam Lukas Caffrey, here present, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?”

“I...” Hundreds of eyes stared at her expectantly. She had two words to say. I do. It wasn’t that fucking hard. Musa looked up at Liam. At those pretty dark green eyes of his watching her with all the love in the world. “I...”

It wasn’t enough.

No one would ever be enough if they weren’t Riven. She’d tried to deny it, but it was true. And he was right. She belonged with him.

“No” she sighed. The love in Liam’s eyes turned to confusion. Behind her, Stella mumbled out a what. “I can’t... I’m sorry.”

Musa picked up the skirt of her dress as much as she could and walked away. She picked up speed with every step, desperate to get away from the prying eyes. Desperate to get to Riven. I’ll be out front. If you change your mind. Had he meant it? She rushed through the double doors, past Christina and through the lobby. In the corner of her vision, she saw the doorman standing to open the front doors for her, but she got there before him.

Lights flashed in her eyes as she pushed through the doors and onto the front steps. Her name was being shouted and paparazzi cameras popped at every angle, but she registered none of it. Musa searched the sidewalk for that telltale flash of magenta, trying to control her already heavy breathing and not appear as panicked as she felt.

He wasn’t sure why he’d even waited. It’s too late. That should be an obvious clue that she didn’t want to be with him. Still, he waited. He’d sat in her suite for two minutes trying to compose himself before sneaking out of the room and down to the lobby. He’d gotten there just in time to hear the music start. Part of him contemplated waiting, running into the ceremony when the officiant did the speak now or forever hold your peace thing (did they even do that in real life? It hadn’t been done at Flora and Helia or Stella and Brandon’s wedding). Ultimately, he decided not to. He’d told Musa what he had to say. All he could do now was wait.

Riven took a seat on a bench in the park across the street. He absentmindedly watched park-goers walk by, blissfully unaware that he was falling to pieces as the seconds ticked by. It took all his self-control not to think about Musa marrying someone else; to stop himself from physically and mentally falling apart. Old demons tried to claw their way to the forefront of his mind, to tell him that she wouldn’t want him, that his efforts were futile, but Riven refused to listen to them. He wasn’t that sixteen-year-old kid anymore, and he knew, he knew that he and Musa were meant to be.

Finally, after searching for what felt like an eternity, she spotted the telltale magenta hair forcing its way through the crowd. The joy that swelled in her was unlike any happiness she’d ever felt. He’d waited. Musa kicked off her heels and took off running towards him. He made it to the front of the crowd just in time for her to throw herself into his arms and pull him into a kiss.

It was heaven to feel his lips on hers, to feel his arms wrapped around her. Musa never wanted to lose this feeling. He laughed into the kiss and Musa swore it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. Riven shuffled forward, lowering her onto one of the hotel steps as they finally pulled apart. The smile on his face could put the suns of Solaria to shame, but, as much as she loved his smile, Musa was only focused on his eyes. She loved his eyes; loved the way they shone every time he looked at her.

Riven rested his forehead against Musa’s. Those magnificent blue eyes looked up at him so lovingly, just the way he’d longed for her to look at him for all those years. Riven swore then and there, he would move mountains to never lose that look. He was so happy he didn’t even care that all the paparazzi were watching them. Let them watch.

“I’m so sorry. I was so stupid... I-” Musa started.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”

“Now and forever. I love you, Riven.” Musa pulled him into another kiss. Camera flashes went off around them but Riven only saw the stars that shone in his head every time she kissed him. He pulled away from her just enough to whisper I love you too, Musa before kissing her with all the love he could muster.

#im avoiding my other WIP #i started the AU #and season 2 #but my attention span is shit #so heres a oneshot no one asked for #winx club #winx musa #winx riven #musa x riven #rivusa #muri #winx #fanfiction #riven x musa

60 notes · View notes

bakugou-tm · 3 years

Text

Master Knows Best (18+)

Bakugou x Maid Cafe Reader

plot: You’ve gone almost a full year working at a maid cafe with none of your friends finding out, which is exactly how you liked it; but thanks to a certain friend your beloved hot headed boyfriend found out your secret and planned on teasing you the whole time. In a stubborn attempt to get back at him, you realized exactly what would happen if you disobeyed your master

warnings: suggestive NSFW, swearing, a shit ton of teasing

wc: 5200+

mood song: worst behavior

a/n: I was supposed to post this on valentine’s day but it’s better late than never right? I perhaps may make a part two depending on how this does but I’m also a s s at NSFW so we’ll see. For now just enjoy (especially my fellow brats out there)

You liked things to be simple. You were a simple girl, with a simple life.

Sure you had your secrets, but thanks to your overall simplicity, nobody even bothered to uncover them.

That’s just the way you liked it too. Each different part of your life was separated as they should, for if they intertwined your life would becoming a living nightmare.

You never dreamed that living nightmare would become a reality. Who knew all it would take to crumble the reputation you built up for so long...

was a simple text.

Sweat trickled down the ash blond’s toned arms, his ragged breath becoming more steady as he slumped down against the wall while his friend took a few rounds at the punching bag.

The sound of his phone buzzing beside him didn’t drag him out of his exhausted mindset quite yet, but when his crimson eyes glanced across the words on the screen he felt everything come to a halt.

electric dunce: remember that day time job (l/n) said she had during the weekends? i think i found it bro..

electric dunce: 1 attachment

Bakugou’s red haired training buddy noticed the change in spirit with his blond friend, noticing how his heavy breathing suddenly stopped.

Wiping his gloved hand across his forehead, Kirishima glanced down to his friend only to see Bakugou’s eyebrows knit in a deep focus.

“You uh... You okay bro?” Kirishima questioned with a raised brow, trying to control his own ragged breaths after he attacked the swaying back before him.

Before he could question his friend once more, Bakugou let out a breathy chuckle, one filled with mischief and even excitement if Kirishima listened well enough.

“Training is cut short today shitty hair.”

“Come onnnn (L/n), how could you tell us you have a job then not tell us what it is?” The pink haired girl whined as she slid her upper half onto your lap and sighed dramatically.

Giggling slightly your eyes flicked to Kaminari across from you as his lips doubled over into a pout, “The whole point of having a job is so your friends can come crash it!”

“And to make some money dumbo.” You sneered, flicking his forehead gently while glancing down to Mina’s attempt at puppy dog eyes, “Besides, I didn’t want to tell you guys. You forced me to tell you where I went after school or you said you would doxx me.”

Your friends let out a sigh of defeat as Kirishima glanced to your boyfriend beside you, “C’mon Baku-bro not even you know where she works?”

Smirking slightly you placed a gentle palm on your boyfriends cheek and winked to him tauntingly,

“Not even Katsuki~”

Bakugou simply clicked his tongue and smacked your hand away, “I don’t know because I don’t fucking care.”

Oh but he did care. It ate away at him everyday that you refused to reveal where you worked. You claimed it would be “embarrassing” for him to see you working and wearing a uniform but he failed to understand why it would be. He brutally antagonized you all the time and you never bat an eye, why would he care if he saw you wearing a ‘Mini-Mart’ uniform?

You simply hummed at your boyfriend’s denial and leaned against his side.

“Say whatever you need to make you feel better love,” You purred, grinning at his scowl before you looked to your group of friends,

“Because you will never find out where I work, ever.”

Bakugou felt like he was in a state of euphoria as he stood before the quaint wooden doors, decorated with all sorts of pastel ribbons and paint.

It was almost as if he was entering the doors of heaven, the ultimate satisfaction of knowing he was about to beat you and your stupid threat.

And better yet, of all the places to find out you worked, it was here?

Oh he was going to enjoy this, even beyond getting revenge.

“Never find out my ass.” Bakugou sneered with a smirk, letting the soft breeze flow through his spiky locks as he tugged open the door into the unknown.

Meanwhile you were attempting to gracefully, yet quickly, get your uniform back on since your break ended in about thirty seconds. You hated how good you had gotten at putting on this stupid uniform, soon enough it would be second nature to you.

Working at a Maid Cafe wasn’t exactly where you planned to end up. When you stumbled onto the small podium in kindergarten to announce your future career, you surely didn’t say “I want to be a server at a Maid Cafe!”

And yet here you were pulling up the thigh high socks to your frilly, bow covered maid dress.

Admittedly when you were searching for jobs, you were surprised to find no luck. Any job that paid well required university years, and any left over job wouldn’t pay enough for your time to walk there.

It wasn’t until your aunt came to you in your troubles and recommended the job of your nightmares.

“My sweetheart why don’t you just work at my niece’s Maid Cafe? You’ll get to work with very sweet young girls about your age, and they pay very well since they have a very diverse clientele!”

Immediately you threw away the idea before you could even process it, the thought of having to serve gross old men and pretend to be excited while doing it didn’t sound appealing, let alone possible.

With that said, that didn’t mean your aunt was going to give up just yet. Without telling you she scheduled an interview for you, telling you if you didn’t show up it would make your family look bad.

Feeling the inevitable guilt throughout the day, you submitted into your aunt’s wishes and at least showed up to the interview.

Who knew? Maybe they would just let you be a janitor or something.

Sure enough they wanted you as a maid, but before you could even deny they offered double what any job had offered you, even the high paying ones.

“We know the job isn’t ideal, which is why we pay so much. A young girl like you would be just perfect here!”

Push came to shove, and somehow you ended up working at the cafe for a year and a half now.

You couldn’t lie, dressing up all cute and getting to hang out with a bunch of sweet girls was pretty fun. It beats mopping an empty grocery store with creepy co-workers.

With that said, the dread of having to deal with pervy customers and the existential fear of one of your friends walking through the door almost outweighed the pros of the job.

Luckily you had been able to escape doom for this long, so what are the odds that would change anytime soon?

The sound of the bell charming brought you back to your senses, quickly tying the silk bow behind your back you stumbled out into the break room to see your boss awaiting.

“Phew I thought you almost ditched us (L/n).” Your boss said with a wink.

Rolling your eyes you began walking backwards towards the swinging doors that led to the dining room.

“Have I ever failed you Miss Manager?” You purred with a grin.

Satisfied with her laugh you danced through the double doors, putting on your cute act once again. Only two hours left and you could go home and pig out on what was left in your pantry.

If that’s truly all it took, you didn’t mind turning on your “anime girl” side for a few hours.

Smiling at all the guests you made sure to check on everyone’s table before making your way towards the greeting podium. The doorbell went off so that meant some sort of customer was waiting to be sat.

Giving one last wink to a customer you whipped your head towards the front doors and gave a small bow before looking up.

“Welcome back to Maid Cafe master, would you like me to show you to your se..AHHHH!”

The moment your eyes met the sturdy figure before you, all senses jumped out the window as you screeched and jumped backwards defensively.

How.. How could this happen? This couldn’t be happening. All your intricate planning and anxious working to make sure no one you knew would ever catch you on the job.

And out of all the people in the world... it had to be Katsuki Bakugou.

Your ever so taunting boyfriend.

Sure enough Bakugou had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes glowing with excitement for probably more reasons than you could count.

“Well well well, don’t you look familiar.”

At this point words weren’t even an option in your mind, you couldn’t tell if the cold spike of fear shooting up your spine was worse or the overwhelming heat that flared along your face.

Your little outburst didn’t go unnoticed by the guests and maids, all eyes moved to the two of you as you stumbled over your own words.

“Y..You- I.. but I.. and you! I can’t...”

“(L/n) is something the matter?”

The sound of your boss’ sweet voice from behind you caused you to shriek again as you now jumped to face her.

Feeling your face grow even warmer you avoided eye-contact with her, trying to use what was left of your slowly deflating brain to come up with an excuse to fix this entire mess.

“Yeah princess, is something the matter?”

Between the chilling tone and the pet name you physically shuddered, your head slowly peaking back to the problem at hand.

Bakugou couldn’t help but notice your reaction, sneering cockily as he looked down on you with pride.

“Zip it Bakugou-”

“Ah ah..” Bakugou started before you could even finish your threat, “I believe you are supposed to refer to me as master.”

If your brain wasn’t broken before, it sure was now. Your internal mix of equally enjoying this and hating this had officially clashed and broken any sense at this point. All you could feel beyond anger at this point was complete and utter embarrassment.

“(L/n) you’re not having any trouble greeting our guest, are you?” Your boss questioned sternly.

You’ve honestly never heard her get so serious with you, given this was far from her angry side, but you hated disappointing your superiors.

Glancing around you still noticed some eyes on you along with your suspicious boss’. At this point there was no escaping the situation, and like hell were you going to give this bastard the satisfaction of your embarrassment.

“N..No ma’am, no trouble at all!” You said back in your sweet work voice, offering the best smile you could muster before twitching back to your smug boyfriend.

“Let me uh... let me show you to your table...” You stuttered out, grabbing a single menu before looking up at your expectant boyfriend’s expression. You knew exactly what the little shit was waiting for, and if you didn’t say it your boss would surely drag you to the back.

“Master.”

Bakugou sighed in dramatic satisfaction, clasping his hands together sarcastically and bending down to your level, “Fucking splendid.”

Gritting your teeth you glared into his crimson orbs before spinning on your heel, plastering the cute smile on your face so your boss could get off your back.

Once she seemed to notice you returned to your old state, she let out a gentle sigh and walked away to serve her tables.

At the very least you felt a bit less tense knowing she wasn’t following you like a hawk, but she was far from the problem at hand.

Quickly b-lining towards a table in the corner, you slammed the menu down and pulled out the chair, offering the most sarcastically pleasant smile you could.

Bakugou gladly took his seat, making sure to drag his hand along the small of your back on the way down. He throughly enjoyed each time you shivered from his touch, or even words.

First you decided to take his order, making sure all eyes were officially off the two of you. Once you decided the coast was clear, you quickly grabbed the collar of his tank top, as you bent down to be eye level with him.

“How did you find out about my job Katsuki.”

Bakugou grunted in surprise, catching himself quickly before he smirked back to your fuming expression. Oh how adorable you were when you were mad.

Your thick eyebrows would knit together in a deep focus and your plush lips would pinch into a perfect pout that drove him crazy.

As the blond smugly glanced over your features, his eyes flicked up only to notice other eyes were facing the two of you once again, only this time they only seemed to be on you. On your backside.

The way you were bending down seemed to perfectly expose your backside to the world, and your dumbass was too oblivious with him to even realize it.

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou placed a firm palm on the edge of your spine before shoving you down to your knees so the back of your dress would cover your backside once again.

The action caused a small yelp to escape your lips, you assumed he had done it to embarrass you which made you that much more mad.

“Answer. My. Question.”

Once the ash blond was satisfied with your state and he glared at any that dared to still look at you, he glanced back down to your fiery orbs with an unimpressed look.

Rolling his eyes he slapped your hand away causing you to huff before he shoved the photo Kaminari sent to him.

Glancing over the photo you eyes widened to see a photo of you through the window of the Maid Cafe assisting a customer.

Your cheeks began to glow red again as you worriedly looked up to Bakugou, “You guys actually doxxed me?!”

Bakugou raised a brow and snatched his phone back with a sigh.

“I didn’t, I can’t speak for that stupid dunce but I’ll deal with his reasoning later,” He explained before his dreadful smirk returned as he cupped the edge of your chin, “Back to the elephant in the room, how come you hid such a delicious fucking secret from your master.”

As much as you would’ve loved this behind closed doors, to be openly embarrassed in public made your head feel like it was going to explode.

“S..Stop acting all smug you idiot!” You snapped, smacking his hand from your chin and standing up straight, “I hid this from you so you wouldn’t act like an egotistical dick.”

At this Bakugou barked out a laugh, the booming sound causing you to jump a bit as he slouched back in his chair, folding his arms with that smug grin.

“I think we’ve already come to the conclusion that my fucking ego is backed up, or have you forgotten doll?”

His piercing red eyes narrowed to your own, the sight making you blush as you jerked your head to the side and huffed.

“Can you order already idiot? I’ve got plenty of other orders to take.”

Bakugou simply smirked and picked up the menu, glancing down the options before shoving it in your arms.

“I’ll get two of the shitty rice bears,” He explained, grinning when he saw you look up with a raised brow, “I’ve got a hungry maid coming home soon waiting to please her master.”

Your confused expression turned into a flushed angry one as you snatched the menu from him and turned on your heel. You didn’t even remember what he asked for but at this point you didn’t care. You just wanted to hide from the customers so you could collect what dignity you had left.

The moment you brushed by the double doors you let out a sigh of relief as you rested your head against the back wall. Maybe if you closed your eyes and pinched yourself hard enough you would wake up from this horrible nightmare?

You could only imagine the things Bakugou was thinking. Does he think you’re some ditzy pushover maid girl now? Is he texting your friends telling them that you work here? Honestly Kaminari has probably already done that.

It was so nice having the upper hand on him for once, but now that he took every last bit of dignity and laughed in your face, you were doomed.

“Rough shift huh?”

Raising your brows you peaked an eye open to see one of your coworkers with a concerned expression. Standing up straight you fixed a piece of your hair and nodded.

“Yeah I guess you could say that..”

“How come you were acting so weird with that customer (L/n)-chan?” Your manager called from behind, carrying a bunch of plates as she walked beside your coworker, “Is it because he’s crazy hot?”

Folding your arms you let out a huff as you pouted your lips out,

“Try boyfriend.”

Both girls gasped in shock, your boss nearly dropping the plates in her hand as they looked two you in disbelief.

“Wow sorry for calling him hot, I never knew you had a boyfriend (L/n)! And a hunk at that~”

Letting out a slight chuckle, both your eyes fell on your coworker when she spoke up.

“You know this same thing happened to me with my boyfriend,” She spoke while tapping her finger against her cheek in thought, “I didn’t want him finding out about my job because I knew he would make fun of me, then one day he showed up and sure enough started making fun of me.”

Frowning you let out a sigh as you rubbed the side of your face exasperatedly, “My dumb boyfriend is doing that too! What did you end up doing with yours?”

Your coworker grinned as she shrugged.

“I simply fought fire with fire. Since he was making fun of me, I made him eat his words and watch me serve the other customers. He ended up getting so jealous he left!”

The advice she had given you finally brought warmth back to your numb body, you felt a grin rise to your face as you quickly wrapped your arms around your coworker.

“You are a lifesaver woman! I owe you so much for that advice.”

Your coworker simply laughed and hugged you back, happy to see you back in your normal cheerful state.

“Yeah have some fun but don’t ruin the experience for our other guests!” Your boss called out before walking out the door with the plates.

“I should probably get out there too, let me know if you need any help (L/n)-chan.” Your coworker said with a mischievous grin before dancing out the double doors.

Your mind was rushing with ideas, how could you of not thought of this before? Your explosive boyfriend could get jealous from a rock on the street, this would be the perfect pay back for you!

If he was going to come into your workplace and wreak havoc, you would do the same for his inflated ego.

Fixing up your dress you grabbed the two plates and narrowed your eyes towards the dining room.

“Bring it on Bakugou Katsuki.”

Oh did Bakugou feel pleased with himself.

Normally he hated skipping out on a workout, but this was worth it.

He couldn’t let the image of your adorable flushed expression and tense body escape his mind. Let alone that maid costume on you was divine on your plush skin.

The fact that you refused to wear a maid costume in the bedroom made it that much better, no wonder you were trying to hide this job from him.

The way the black silk hugged every curve, just tight enough to where your skin was overflowing from the material. And those thighs squeezing out of those adorable thigh highs drove him wild.

If he hadn’t made the best discovery of his life today, he would almost be mad you were strutting around in such a costume for anyone other than himself.

Deciding to wait another day to deal with that, Bakugou simply enjoyed the scenery and awaited for his girlfriend.

Just like clockwork he saw your form dance out of the backroom a bit too peppy. The thought of you “collecting” yourself in the back only made him sneer with a sadistic grin, he would simply break you all over again when you served him the food.

Just as you sauntered over to his table, the ash blond looked you up and down with a smirk, opening his mouth to say something truly condescending until your body turn away from him and towards another table.

“Here’s your panda shaped muffin and honeydew boba masters!” You spoke to the two customers at the table in front of him, “Is there anything else I can get for you my handsome masters?”

Bakugou felt his heart drop at the sound of you calling another living organism your master. Were you doing this on purpose? Is this usually how you talked to the shitty customers here?

His answer was confirmed when a small squeak escaped your lips and you bent down towards the table, your chest surely giving the two guests a show given their cherry lit cheeks as your thumb grazed across one of the customer’s cheeks.

“Silly master, you have some icing on your cheek.” You said with the most divine giggle he had ever heard. Gritting his teeth his entire world froze when you stuck the finger in your mouth and licked the white cream off clean, “No worries, I got it for you~”

The man before you looked like he was going to bust on the spot, his friend watching with his jaw dropped and eyes filled with jealousy.

Smiling sweetly you gave them one last bow, “Let me know if you need anything else masters!”

Just before you danced away from their table you glanced to Bakugou, giving him a small smirk as you looked him up and down with unimpressed eyes before sauntering away, leaving your explosive boyfriend on the verge of a breakdown.

You truly had a death wish. It was the only explanation for your actions. For almost a full hour you kept that act up, leaving the many guests within the cafe speechless and ogling over you. You knew exactly how jealous Bakugou could get, and you knew he hated admitting it.

Of course Bakugou also knew what a little tease you were. He didn’t miss the delight in your glistening eyes each time you taunted him, waiting for the repercussions of his wrath. But this...

This crossed the line of his sanity.

The ash blond tried to wait til your shift was over, he really did. As furious as he was with you, he wasn’t irresponsible enough to make you lose your job. But the moment your finger tips danced along the shoulder of a guest, any bit of restraint the male had left in his body had snapped like a twig.

The sound of him storming up from his table caused the immediate guests around him to look up, his silverware clanking against the pink trimmed plate as he made a direct line towards you.

Unfortunately for you, the scene your boyfriend caused went over your head as you continued to jot down the order from the customers before you. Focusing on your blossom shaped ordering pad you didn’t notice the horrified expressions on the customers before you as the saw an angry Bakugou storming up behind you.

“I’ll get those orders right up for you masters~” You exclaimed with a cute wink as you began to walk off until a firm hand wrapped around your wrist in a vice grip.

Bakugou could have loosened his bit a grip he realized when you let out a small yelp but he had already committed and like hell was he going to let you flirt with another damn customer right before his very eyes.

Your sweet words, gentle touches, suggestive actions... they weren’t meant for him and him only.

Immiedetly you recognized your boyfriend’s sharp hold and tried to tug your hand away so not to make a scene, but the ash blond simple spun your wrist around and pinned it to your back, giving him full control of wherever you walk.

With a squeak he shoved you forward, causing you to stumble over your own feet as he quickly pushed you towards the backroom.

You briefly met gaze with your boss as he shoved you by, your eyes pleading for help as they were filled with regret. Your boss opened her mouth, not sure what to even do.

“E..Excuse me sir? You can’t touch the-”

Before she could even finish her sentence Bakugou flashed a sharp glare to the woman, his crimson orbs thin from lack of patience and absolute fury.

Your boss was smart enough to know your boyfriend was truly about to go feral, for her life and your own she decided it was best to turn away and pretend she saw nothing.

You let out a small pout when you saw her attempt to serve the shocked guests, leaving you to be shoved into the backroom by a surely pent up Bakugou.

Once you reached the back you saw your coworker, the one that had given you such brilliant advice before, shoving a pastry in her mouth as she was on her break. Her eyes first fell on the dark lidded ones of your boyfriend before falling on your pleading fearful eyes.

Her mouth opened, unsure of what to say before closing.

“I’m uh.. gonna take my break outside.” She muttered softly, politely pushing the chair in and offering the best smile she could before she quickly shuffled out the back doors.

Once the room was clear Bakugou let go of your wrist, giving you a chance to stretch your arm back in it’s proper position before the sound of the back door slamming to a close caused you to shriek in surprise.

Bakugou couldn’t help but smirk as you jumped, as angry as he was he loved seeing you so on edge thanks to him. Returning to a serious expression he watched as you turned around, attempting to put on a serious face of your own.

“Bakugou you know I still have thirty minutes left of my shift-”

Trying to speak was hard enough as is with the thick tension in the room, but when the ash blond slammed his hands on either side of you against the wooden break table you let out a shriek and quickly sat back against the ledge attempting to gain some more space between you two.

The action made him chuckle dryly as he looked you up and down.

“You’re still going to act like a fucking brat huh? After the show you just put on?” Bakugou spoke lowly, his eyes drinking in the sight of your costume only swirling more pent up feelings within him, “Someone’s feeling spunky today?”

You bit at the corner of your lip, swallowing what left of saliva was in your dry mouth as you tried terribly to avoid eye contact.

“Hiding such a naughty job from me, and then when I catch you red handed this is the treatment I get?” Bakugou hisses with clenched fists, “You should’ve been at my fucking heel all day for keeping such a delicious lie from me and yet you taunt me like you’re the one in charge?”

His harsh words made heat rise to your cheeks as you looked down at your frilly dress, trying to find anything to look at besides his face. Surely you knew that wasn’t going to pass with him.

“Look at me when I fucking speak to you brat.” Bakugou growled, his eyes narrowing when he saw your lips pinch together stubbornly.

Letting out an annoyed sigh he grabbed your wrist roughly before shoving you back against the thin wall and grabbing your jaw harshly shoving it against the wall with a hard knock, forcing your eyes to meet.

The sight of your cheeks being squished together by his large palms and your wide glassy eyes forced to look into his own, he couldn’t hide his smug smirk as he felt you lightly tremor beneath him.

“Much better doll.” Bakugou cooed, voice laced with sarcasm as you both knew the next chain of events were about to get quite violent.

“Now, I was planning on patiently waiting for you to get off so we could take this conversation in private...” Bakugou spoke, eyes narrowing down to yours as he let out a sinister laugh, “Hell I even bought you a treat, I’m such a generous fucking boyfriend aren’t I?”

Your breathing was ragged as you stared up into his crimson eyes, your brain was so fogged by the situation that you hadn’t even realized what he asked until his grip on your jaw tightened.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

Blinking back to reality you nodded deserpatly, not daring to look away from his gaze as you let out a slight whimper that shot directly to his pants.

“Good.” Bakugou said with a dark smile before continuing on, “But now I cannot go along with that generous plan because you can’t go two seconds without acting like a fucking slut.”

The filthy words spewing from his lips caused your face to grow warm, the entire situation already had your silk underwear drenched, but his words alone caused you to brush your plump thighs together desperately.

Your actions didn’t go unnoticed by the ash blond as he roughly shoved a knee between your legs causing a whine to escape your lips when he refused to put any friction on your aching core.

“Even now you can’t help but act like a brainless bitch in heat.” Bakugou sneered with a grin, his hand on your jaw lowering to now grip on your neck gently so not to cut off any air.

“Because you’ve disobeyed me multiple times today, I’m going to have to set you straight right here in public so you know who truly has the power here.”

Your mouth opened to rebuttal as your eyes widened at his idea, but his hand only gripped tighter around your throat causing the words shove back down your throat.

“And then,” Bakugou hissed, “If you perform like a good little maid, I may give you what you want when we get home. Maybe.”

You let out a shaky breath as he narrowed his eyes down to you, trying to read what you were feeling right now.

“Now you’re going to be my good little slutty maid and serve me until I’m satisfied, you fucking got that?”

As Bakugou’s grip on your neck loosened, your posture relaxed a bit as you nodded to his question, only for the grip to return as he growled down to you.

“Try again.”

Biting your lip your thighs attempted to squeeze against his knee for any sort of friction at all as any conscious thought was clouded with ashamed lust for the man before you.

“Y..Yes master.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #maid cafe #maid cafe au #maid au #maid reader #maid cafe reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #reader is a big ole brat #this kinda segsy tho #anyways enjoy

363 notes · View notes

citydreamgrls · 3 years

Text

they were roommates - part one

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: i would just like to point out that this isn’t a fic with a polyamorous relationship, sorry if that was what some people wanted, instead i wanted to keep which twin is the love interest a secret until the end. if u guys want to guess after reading this first part, feel free to do so, i would love to hear your guys’ reasons too !! secondly, i would like to say a huge huge thank you to everyone for getting me to 600 followers, that’s absolutely mad like i’m blown away beyond compare, i love u all millions and billions i really am so grateful so thank you . hope you enjoy this first part, as always, <33

words: 5,790

warnings: swearing?

None of the nights seemed to turn into excitement, but this particular Tuesday evening in the Leaky Cauldron was passing slower than the rest had done. The paintings on the walls cast their weary eyes over the few lonely drinkers scattered across the dim room as even they contemplated calling it an early night. Y/n flicked through an old magazine and wondered if this place had ever seen much action, or whether the inn had become somewhere that paintings came to rest alongside grumpy travellers.

The girl hadn’t worked behind the bar long, only a handful of months now. But since then not a single bar fight had broken out, no one ordered anything out of the ordinary, and she struggled to remember seeing a single nice man pass through the doors. Besides the Weasley twins of course, who were running late for their weekly drink.

“Slow night?” Hannah came up behind her, carrying a stack of clean glasses and placing them under the counter. The girl swiped away her magazine and nodded, doing her best to hide the guilty blush that grew on her cheeks whenever she lied. It had always been a curse.

“I can do that if you want,” She offered, taking over and letting her boss stand up straight again. There was a strange air of awkwardness between the pair, despite the fact that they had grown close since she had started working as a barmaid.

“It’s been like this a lot lately, just… empty.” Hannah huffed, pulling up two stools and letting the younger girl sit beside her for a while.

“Yeah, makes the time pass a lot slower.”

“Neville’s getting worried,” The woman chewed her lip, gazing around at the lack of people. “He thinks it won’t be long before we need to do something drastic.”

“Should I be worried?” Y/n asked, knowing everything rode on this flimsy job.

Just as the girl posed her question the two front doors burst open, revealing the Weasley twins along with two others that she recognised from their past visits.

“I’ll talk to you later darling,” The boss stood, squeezing her shoulder and going to greet the regulars who she knew so well.

As Neville appeared from the back office to do the same she was called over to the far table by a man who she’d already brought too many drinks to. With a sigh, she obeyed his whines, and went over to see what he wanted.

“About time sweet cheeksh,” He slurred, his head propped up by a weary arm while the other gestured wildly as he spoke. “Another round darling-” She nodded, taking his money from the table and turning to leave, but he reached out for her hand.

She shivered beneath his touch, the stench of bile and alcohol filling her nose as she tried not to vomit on the spot. It was best to just ride out whatever he wanted, knowing better than to anger any kind of customer.

“Why don’t you join me when you get those drinks sorted- I haven’t got another chair but I’m sure my lap would do nicely.” He grinned, showing off the layer of yellow on his teeth.

Y/n gulped back her grunt and pretended to smile, sighing with relief when he let go of her and slumped against the wall beside him. The feeling of his hand lingered on her until she managed to distract her mind a little, smiling wider when the twins came up to the bar to order.

“Evening boys,” She sniffed back the nerves and greeted them with a polite welcome. “Not giving you trouble was he?” One of them asked, nodding over to the drunken mess.

“Nothing I can’t handle,”

“Well you let us know if not,” The other chimed, their charms always making her feel comfortable around them. Which was much more than could be said for most of the creeps who roamed the inn each night.

“That’s very good of you both, thank you-” Her smile never faltered, they always had noticed that, “What can I get for you then?”

“Two hog’s heads, one rum and I’ll have…”

“Come on Fred,” The other nudged his brother, the girl finally able to differentiate them, that was until the next day when she wouldn’t be able to recognise the clothes they chose.

“Firewhiskey would be great thanks y/n,” He smiled sweetly, leaning up against the bar as she rang up their orders on the till. He delved into the pockets of his trousers as George left to speak to Neville a bit longer, placing the money in her hand. “Keep the change too,” “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, looking down at the remaining 3 galleons in her hand.

“George never tips, so consider it his debt too.” The boy scoffed, leaving to join the rest of his group. The girl pocketed the money before anyone else could see her doing so and went to fix the drunken man his seventh drink of the night.

He grumbled about how much work he did that no one appreciated, as his eyes raked over her body in a queasily slow trance. The man didn’t stop at that, further pressing her to sit on his knee and let him feel her up. Crude remarks fell from his lips as if he’d relayed them to every woman he’d come across, as if it was second nature. All the while, she stood and let him ramble on, doing her best to ignore what he was saying and just nod along mindlessly. This wasn’t even the worst one, the girl sighed to herself, grimacing at the way his fingers toyed with the hems of her skirt as if he was going to try and slither inside it.

With perfect timing, Neville called her back to the bar, faking some questions about the menu so that she had an excuse to dismiss herself from the dog’s company and scurry off. She heard him call after her, but couldn’t make out what exactly it was he was saying. The girl prayed that he was too drunk to actually get up and walk over to the bar, or else he would become truly relentless.

No matter what, y/n always smiled, regardless of who was talking to her or at her. And when she wasn’t dealing with the unruly men of diagon alley, she was happy, she was lucky that she had a job and somewhere to stay. She had no reason to be unhappy.

Fred and George liked that about her. That in such a dimly lit, run down little place like the cauldron, such light could shine through with her presence. Both of them had mentioned it once on their drunken walk back home one night, that they wished they could afford to hire someone else at the shop because she would be perfect for it.

Y/n always smiled because most of the time she was a happy person, until there was no reason to be happy. She discovered that dreadful sinking feeling later that night once the pub closed and the girl was finishing up with her cleaning.

Neville and Hannah were speaking in hushed voices nearby, words that she couldn’t make out over the sound of her brush swishing over the stone ground. But they continued to glance over at her when they believed she wasn’t watching, which made her heart tighten with nervous anticipation.

“Y/n… darling.” Hannah’s sweet voice sounded through the empty room, startling her slightly. The girl stood up straight and smiled, a sight which made her boss want to cry on the spot. None of this was going to be easy. “Could you come into the office with me, please.”

She followed, her hands shaky as she left the broom leant up against a lone table. The door shut behind them with a finalising jolt as the woman sat down before her, prompting her own body to do the same.

The air became thick, and constricting as her knees locked together politely. Hannah seemed just as nervous as she, delaying the inevitable by shuffling paperwork around and shoving into nearby drawers. Finally the movement ceased and she had no choice but to bite the bullet.

“I know we already spoke today, about how the business is going here, and I promise that Neville and I have tried to do everything we can to get around this. But I’m afraid we’ve been left with no other choice y/n.”

The sound of her name felt like a stab, one short sound that cut through her skin and deep into the bone. The girl dwelled on that feeling, hoping that whatever followed would hurt less in contrast. It didn’t.

“We have to let you go y/n,” The knife plunged deeper, somehow splitting open all her organs on its way through her body. She froze, knowing that in this moment her world was falling apart all around her like dominoes.

“A-and the room? I’m supposing you need it?” Her voice was wavering, constantly on the edge as she confirmed all the priorities.

“I’m so sorry,” The gesture was appreciated, but it did nothing to help in the moment as the now homeless girl’s mind raced.

“Thank you anyway, for the past few months.” It was a sudden bravery that brought her to her feet as she announced how she would pack her things right away.

In truth, she needed to be alone, just for a few minutes. So she could let it all go, cast a muffliato and sob away her worries for a small amount of precious time. Hannah didn’t dare follow her, knowing nothing could fix it for the younger girl, instead she brought the bottle of gin from the bar into the office and took long, thoughtful sips until it was no longer the only thing playing through her mind.

When the girl gathered her things and apparated down to the front door with them, Neville was there with a sad smile upon his face. Only giving her a brief goodbye, before swiftly leaving to busy himself with yet another maintenance job around the building. He never was one for complex emotions, so she didn’t think bad of him for escaping an awkward situation.

Y/n opened the front doors, seeing the pouring rain before her and almost bursting into yet another round of tears. Not that her red raw eyes could take it much longer. Maybe it was because she had been standing up for the good part of eight hours, or maybe just the pitiful sight of the gloomy street before her was enough to make her knees shake. As if they were going to buckle beneath her and send her crumpling to the ground.

But she shuffled forward, her trunk following behind her and she had quietly charmed it to do so. Admittedly she didn’t have a lot, when she had decided to try and live alone it had become a rushed affair to say the least. So she only owned a number of outfits within that case, along with some books and other little items she had deemed important enough to bring alone. That, and her guitar case, which loomed over her shoulder like a stalking figure in the night. The one thing she definitely didn’t have, was a coat to shelter her from the oncoming rain.

The girl walked a few steps, round the side of the building, and found a pile of crates to rest on beneath a small dripping canopy. It was dry, for now, and it gave her a chance to think properly. She needed to figure something out fast.

But y/n’s mind was full of white noise, watching puddles form between the cobbled pathway before her and thinking how she used to love the rain as a child. It had been relaxing and beautiful from the safety of her childhood bedroom, the window facing her parent’s courtyard as she watched them leave for work each morning.

Back then they would both turn and wave, with a generous smile on their faces, always reminding the young girl how they wished to see her when they returned. They were always happy when she was a child, the three of them a cacophony of laughs and giggles. Until it stopped. Her parents worked together, but never left the house together, and neither of them stopped to wave her goodbye, no matter how many times she waited for them to do so. They just stopped being happy, and as y/n shifted her weight upon the damp crates she realised that maybe her once beloved parents were never happy at all.

They became distant. To one another and to her, even more so as she grew older and became her own person. They tried to oppress it, probably seeing her joyful exterior and constant smiles and not recognising where it had come from. Not either of them. It angered them further, seeing her be such a resilient person, because they wished for her to feel the same neverending hurt they had caused one another. Regardless of the fact that it wasn’t her emotion to own.

Y/n remembered the night she was handed a file by her father, feeling stunned to have been called into his study while he was working. Often he would go inside and not appear for days at a time, so she knew whatever it was, it had to be important.

She read over the words he’d laid out for her, detailing their plans for her, what they wanted for her future. It was a plan of her life, given to her by two people who couldn’t be bigger strangers. But it wasn’t hers, it felt nothing like hers. She wanted to be someone, and she wanted to do it for herself, not because her parents feel it’s financially best.

The words, writer… and prophet echoed constantly around the page as she tried to make sense of it all. Her father barely looked up from his work as she struggled to remain calm, her lungs losing all motor function as she felt her stomach twist and turn. That was when she realised she had to leave, do something for herself.

Rain had been such a comforting thing for y/n, when she was a child. Now it covered her like a plague, and drenched her down to the bone as she did all she could to forget about that life. It had been her home, her playground, her school. It had been her whole life, without much chance to be free in the rest of the world.

Now it was nothing. She wanted it to be nothing. There had to be something she could do, there had to be somewhere she could go. Because that place was no longer an option.

“Y/n?” A voice made her head whip up, the tears on her cheeks easily disguised as the rain if it wasn’t for the way she snivelled to herself. She hadn’t even felt herself begin to cry, yet here she was, and it was a pitiful sight to see.

The light was bad in the alley, but when the two tall figures got nearer she recognised them instantly. Her heart broke a little more to see the worry in the twins’ eyes as they quickly took in the sight of her cramped body amongst her belongings.

“Are you leaving town then?” She thinks it was George, asked, he had been the one wearing a black shirt when she’d seen them earlier. The girl was in a daze, her head taking in their words a lot slower than it should have been as she begged herself not to cry in front of them.

To them, she looked like she was in a dream. Her eyes glazed over even as she glanced their way, making it look like she wasn’t really there with them. George’s question caught her off guard a bit, the girl looking as though she had forgotten where she was as she looked around her with bewilderment. Then the look of confusion fell to one of despair when it clicked once again, she was all alone.

“I suppose I am.” Even the two men could hear how her voice begged to break as she spoke with an airy tone. This was the first time they had seen her anything but bright and smiley.

It broke their hearts, in all honesty.

“Do you need somewhere to stay the night?” Fred, this time, asked. He knelt down to meet her eye level, their tall forms always towering above her at the best of times.

“We have a particularly comfy couch at our place,” George added, following suit with the kneeling.

“It’s got five star reviews,”

“And probably a few galleons hidden down the back if you’re lucky.”

Their smiles made her giggle, and it was all they could have asked for in the moment.

“That’s very kind of you,” Her sweet tone was back, like she’d taken control of her head again, “But I couldn’t ask that of you two.” It was her default to be polite, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. It was the one thing her nanny had taught her before being let go when she was twelve, not to ask anything of anyone but yourself.

“Nonsense,” Fred stood up, taking her guitar case that was leant up against the brick wall and swinging it over his shoulder.

“Really, I’ll figure something o-out - it’s fine!” She tried to protest, but the twins had already decided her fate. George lifted her trunk with ease, and Fred held out a hand for her, prompting the girl to clumsily lift herself off the jumble of crates with his assistance.

“Come on then,” They said, starting off towards the brighter part of diagon alley.

She didn’t move, Fred having let go of her as soon as she steddied herself again. They looked back at her, both frowning with the same face as she tried not to laugh at how they were so similar they even acted like one another.

“Well you better come with us-” “Or else it’ll look like we’ve robbed you!”

The girl just looked down at her feet, feeling as though they were only doing this because they couldn’t leave her out in the rain. Which was true. But the twins knew that she was someone worth helping out.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” George asked, shifting the case into his other hand nonchalantly as they waited for her to come along with them. Silently she shook her head, embarrassed to meet their eyes as she admitted defeat.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Fred chimed in, still wearing their signature smile.

Y/n couldn’t help but return the sentiment, she didn’t have to be alone for at least one night. That was something to smile about, so she smiled. Her feet surged her body forward, a small skip noticeable as she reached the two patient men.

“We do look like we’ve just mugged you.” George laughed as they all walked through the alley and towards their shop, her little life packed away and in their hands. The girl slotted between them, having to catch up with their longer strides every now and then, as both twins chatted away as if nothing was amiss.

“Here’s the palace itself,” “Our pride and joy!” They announced, ushering her into the shop lined with all the products an excited teenage wizard could wish for. The shelves seemed to be full to the brim, some things piled up as a display. As haphazard and chaotic as it looked, y/n couldn’t deny that the bright colours shimmering off everything she could see instilled a happiness inside her that she rarely felt as a child. This would have been her dream when she was younger.

The twins’ shop was well known in the alley, by almost everyone who visited the leaky cauldron. Yet she had never dared step inside it herself. Most days she would have been busy with jobs around the inn, and on the off chance that she ventured around any other establishments, it was purely for essentials.

The two men watched as she scanned all that she could see from the doorway, her eyes wide and inviting with each new discovery. They would see kids come in every single day with the same reaction, yet with her it seemed new. It was if she had never seen a toy before.

“Have you eaten yet?” Fred asked, weaving through some unopened boxes to reach the stairs. Even on them there was an endless supply of treats to be found.

“I’m not hungry… thank you.” She followed behind him, slowly, with George closing up the front doors and setting up security wards.

“That wasn’t the question silly,” He laughed, catching up. “Have you eaten tonight?”

“No- but I’m really fine without.”

Once they reached the very top of the long set of stairs, past the ‘staff only’ sign, a door was kicked open in front of her. The apartment inside was a sight for sore eyes, and also the furthest thing from what y/n had envisioned on the walk there.

From how high they had gotten inside the shop, the girl presumed that the flat above had to be pokey and a lot smaller than what she was seeing. It was like a large loft, with brick walls and two levels and these huge windows that looked well over diagon alley. She could see all the lights of muggle London shining amongst the dark sheeted sky.

“My rooms up there, and George is through there.” Fred explained, nodding towards the opening to a small hallway and setting down her things in the excess of open space they had. It was comfortable.

“And here’s your bed!” The other twin exclaimed, throwing himself onto the huge sofa that stretched beneath one of the windows and came out into the room in an L shape. They weren’t lying when they said it was comfortable, because she could tell it was even by looking at it.

“Right! I, for one, am starving.” Fred announced, walking through to the open kitchen, his footsteps echoing on the floor as he went. “What about you y/n?”

The girl was too busy staring out the window to hear him. She’d never seen the city this way before. Her old house was well out in the country, and the alley didn’t give much of a chance for enchanting views. It seemed as though this was the exception.

“Just make her something, she’s busy.” George chuckled, watching her from the sofa. The girl turned and looked at him confused, but the man just shook his head with a smile. “Nothing important,” He whispered and let her go back to the hypnotising view.

As they sat down to eat together, George asked y/n many questions about her life, determined to learn all he could about her in one evening.

“Let her swallow first will you!” Fred huffed, passing her a glass of water so she didn’t choke in the process.

“I was homeschooled all my life, well- up until I moved really.” The girl smiled politely, trying not to go into too much detail with her answers. The two men were so kind, though, that it was hard not to tell them everything she’d been holding in. “So you didn’t finish it all?”

“I left before I got the chance to,”

They nodded in understanding, but she could see the cogs turning in their heads as they both took another bite of their food, all in unison. She snickered a little, enjoying the way they effortlessly put on a show with their mannerisms.

“Did you run away!” They both cried out, startling her as she sat across from them.

“W-well… I um- yes I d-did really.” A wry laugh sounded as she spoke, an out of place sound amongst the shock that displayed over Fred and George’s faces.

“Woah, did something bad happen?”

“George! You can’t just ask that- you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to y/n.” Fred rolled his eyes at his brother, but the girl felt a sense of relief that they asked, it felt nice to have the chance to tell someone after keeping it to herself all this time. It felt more out of place to not tell them.

“It’s okay,” She chuckled at them both, “My parents weren’t very happy people, and they both kind of kept their lives centered around work. I had no problem with it, either than the lack of freedom I had at home, but it changed when they basically showed me a plan for my life.”

The twins listened intently, nodding along with her words and silently reacting accordingly. They both frowned with the last bit, never hearing of someone having their lives planned out for them before.

“They planned your life? Isn’t that a bit, you know-”

“Controlling,” Fred finished, a look of pity on his face.

“We had different ideas, they wanted me to be a writer at the prophet when I’d shown no interest in journalism or even writing before.”

“That’s mad,” George said in a hushed tone, not wanting to cut her off.

“It was then that I realised the only way I was going to do what I wanted, was if I left. So I just packed my things and came here, hoping to find somewhere to stay with what little money I had. Hannah was nice enough to take me in free of charge, so long as I worked behind the bar for it.”

“Both her and Neville really are saints.” “It’s so much better than I could have asked for, but now they can’t afford it. It’s all understandable, it’s just a pain that I can’t ask my parents for help.”

All the while that she recalled her story, the girl smiled, reminding the men that she was a lot stronger than people might assume. Given what she’d been through, it was amazing that she hadn’t broken down already.

“We’ll figure something out for you, all of us.” Fred smiled, glad to see colour in her cheeks now that she was in the warmth of their loft compared to the drizzly alleyway.

“It’s not the end of the world if your parents don’t support you either, there’s plenty more people in the world who will.” George reassured her, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh godric yeah,” Fred joined in, “Our folks went bloody mental when they heard this was what we wanted to start up instead of finishing at hogwarts.”

“Do they like it now?” She asked cautiously, feeling a little better knowing that they too skipped out on their academic life.

“They have to, given how well we’ve done.” “It is hard to deny our success,” They chimed like songbirds, the passion they had for their self made business shining through their wide eyes.

It was no surprise that the three of them got on, but as the night progressed quicker than they thought, the new trio found themselves with no awkward silences. The clock above them looked as though it had been enchanted when George finally glanced up at it, amazed to see that they’d been chatting for four hours already.

Only when y/n yawned did the two twins decide it was maybe time to call it quits.

“It’s getting late,” Fred spoke up, not wanting to keep the girl from her much needed sleep. It must have been a long day for her. “I’ll grab you some blankets.”

As he disappeared up into his room to look for something to keep her cosy all night, the girl helped George clear away their mess from dinner.

“I feel awful,” She smiled politely, handing him more plates to place into the sink that was doing all the work for them.

“What for?” The man seemed genuinely surprised.

“We spent all that time talking, but we never decided on what to do with me.” She scoffed, feeling like a child needing their help. “I promise I won’t hang around much longer, I’ll sort something out.”

“Like what?” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, it was more to show her that they were her only option right then.

“I-I’m not sure… sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, we want to help you.”

The door to Fred’s bedroom opened again and they fell into silence, the girl slipping back into the mindset that she was growing into a burden for them. She couldn’t ask anymore of them, they’ve already done enough for her. Then and there, y/n decided she would leave in the morning.

“Bed’s ready!” The shout came from the living room, where blankets had been laid over the sofa beneath the window. “Thought you would enjoy the view here.” Fred added when she came out to see his masterpiece.

“That’s hardly a bed!” George scoffed, laughing at the copious amount of cushions he’d left for her head, all different colours and sizes.

“It’ll be perfect, thank you.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling under the city lights that spilled into the room. It didn’t even matter that they would reflect against the ceiling as she slept, it looked like stars.

“As long as you like it then,” George muttered, eyeing his brother who clung onto a smug grin.

“Goodnight y/n, sleep well.”

“Night y/n.” They both smiled, turning to head off to their respective rooms as she opened up her case to look for something to sleep in.

“Night Fred, night George… thank you again, for all of this.” They both nodded at her words and disappeared, leaving her to change in the dark loft, only a small lamp beside her lighting her way to the sofa.

She clicked it off, casting lumos and stumbling over the fluffy rug to curl beneath the many layers of covers that Fred had left her. The girl chuckled to herself, peeling one off and folding it in a neat pile on the floor. Two would be just fine for one night.

It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, the whole day’s nonsense catching up on her and slipping her body into a mini-coma. Her mind ran and slowed all at once, memories of nights she would spend in her childhood bed, reading books for hours on end until she’d fall asleep with the pages sprawled open beside her.

Many nights she would hear her parents scream at one another, that harrowing wailing sound would echo for hours until both of them grew tired and they decided to sleep apart yet again. That’s when she knew she could relax, she could finally do all the things that she wouldn’t have time for in the day between her tutor’s classes and meaningless chores.

She had been a night owl, revelling in the time she got to be truly alone, when the house slept she would come alive. Now, she couldn’t stay awake even if she wanted to. She needed to sleep, and fast.

Y/n vaguely heard a door opening and closing, unsure whether it was real or her mind replaying memories all too vividly. Either way, her eyes were far too heavy to open themselves and check. It could wait.

Fred cursed himself for not catching his bedroom door behind him, the noise booming across the loft. He waited, frozen at the top of the steps, watching to see if the girl would rouse at the sound. But he was in luck, she didn’t move a muscle.

He padded down to the bottom, making sure each step was lighter than the last as he headed into the small corridor. George jolted awake the second his door was opened, reaching for his lamp to see who was intruding on his sleep.

“What the fuck!” He almost shouted.

“Shut up! She’s sleeping in there!” Fred hissed, walking over to the empty side of the bed and sitting down calmly.

“So was I you git- what the hell are you doing, since when did we start sleeping together?”

“Disgusting-”

“I didn’t mean that,” George rubbed his eyes with a grimace and reluctantly sat up, “What do you want then?” His voice finally hushed to match his brother’s.

“I have an idea,” Fred started.

“Yes,” “Well, I’ve been thinking about y/n-” “If this is you coming to tell me about another sex dream, I don’t wanna know, okay?”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me,”

“Fine, fine, go on.” He pulled the covers over his bare chest, feeling suddenly exposed to the cold night’s air.

“Well, we’ve been saying for ages that we need someone to work in the shop, except we can’t really afford it right now.” Fred explained, and George nodded along. “Look, y/n needs somewhere to stay, but she would never stay here without giving us some sort of payment, right?” The man’s head looked like it was on a spring as he took in the words. “So, why don’t we let y/n stay here with us and in return she can help out in the shop?”

“Do you think she’d agree to that?” “It was basically the same agreement she had with Neville and Hannah, except we have no reason to get rid of her.”

“I suppose so,” He didn't sound overly convinced.

“She needs somewhere to stay, we need someone to work, it’s a win-win situation!” Fred exclaimed, smiling like a mad man to try and convince his brother that their plan could work out.

“Okay, fine. We can ask her in the morning.”

“Great, I knew you’d say yes.” “Well it’s not like she’s the worst person to live with, it hardly took much to sway me.”

“Not the worst person? Come on George, she’s great!” Fred, admittedly, got a bit too excited at this. His voice ringing out louder than he’d wanted it to.

“You have had a sex dream haven’t you?” “Oh shut up!” “Was she in it,” George teased, prompting his brother to get up and head for the door. “So i’m taking that as a yes.” He turned the light off, hearing one last hiss from Fred before the door shut behind him.

“Aren’t you forgetting the time you had a sex dream about Mcgonnogall?” Fred quipped, leaving quickly as not to get a beating up from the other twin, who was mentalling cursing himself for ever revealing that fact when they were drunk one time.

305 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Remus gets injured in a game. I have literally read everything you have written but i'm not sure if you have wrote one like this. If you have, ANOTHER PLZZ

Hello anon! I wove this together with a couple different prompts, listed below:

1. Coops argument

2. Prompt 21: “You need to eat something”

3. Remus gets in a fight with Snape

4. Protective Sirius

5. Coops going home grumpy after losing a game (see link)

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove! TW for fights, blood, bruises, arguments, and someone getting called a wh*re

Snape’s cheek gave easily beneath Remus’ fist, which was a tad bit surprising. He wrapped his other hand in the neckline of his jersey, yanking him back in to land another punch to the side of his head—that would leave a nasty bruise in the morning. Stars sparkled in his vision as Snape got a lucky shot in and he doubled down, ignoring the thin line of pain that trickled down his chin.

“Break it up, boys, that’s enough!” The referee’s whistle blew as he and another pried Remus’ hands off Snape’s jersey; someone took him by the shoulders and pushed him away from the fight. Pots.

“Say it again!” Remus shouted at Snape as the refs and their teammates continued pulling them apart. “Say it again and I’ll knock your fucking teeth in!”

James’ hold on him faltered for a second as another person skated over and tried to join the melee. “Cap, no!”

“Move, Pots.”

“Loops won the fight, it’s done. Let’s just keep playing.” James shoved both their chests hard enough to send them back a few inches, but Remus’ blood boiled as he ground his mouthguard between his teeth. He glanced up at the clock—3:16 left in the third, Snakes up by two. Their win was almost guaranteed and Snape was still pulling this bullshit.

He skated quickly over to the bench and mumbled his thanks to Hestia as she pressed some gauze to his lip and ice to his cheek. “Lupin, you’re in for the rest of the game,” Coach Weasley said, tapping him on the arm with his playboard. “Anything broken?”

“No, Coach.”

“Then get your ass back out on the ice and score some points. We need some speed.”

He could feel the fury rolling off Sirius as they wove through the Snakes’ defense, shooting again and again to no avail. Frustration built up in every nerve—he was worried about the win, of course, but mostly he was pissed. Pissed at Snape, pissed at James for pushing him, and pissed at Sirius for butting into the fight.

Remus scored a final goal just as the buzzer sounded. Hissing filled the stadium, even though it was a home game. Snape smirked at him as he skated past and the only thing keeping him from dragging him right back in by his greasy hair was the possible suspension.

The shower was cold, because of course the fucking shower was cold. Remus shoved his stuff in his duffel and waited outside the locker room, silently fist bumping the guys as they left. God, he hated losing games. It was inevitable, but it always felt shitty.

“How’s the lip?” Sirius asked when he finally came out, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Fine. What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?”

“You butted into my fight. Nobody asked you to.”

Sirius’ eyebrows rose. “Re, he called you—”

“Yeah, I know what he called me,” Remus snapped, practically slamming the door to the parking lot closed. “I was there.”

The only reason you’re on this team is because you’re the captain’s whore, Snape had sneered. He bit the inside of his cheek as his anger flared at the memory. “I was just trying to help,” Sirius grumbled.

“Well, you didn’t. You proved his fucking point.”

“I didn’t prove shit!” Sirius scoffed as they got in the car. Immediately, Remus felt claustrophobic.

“I had it handled, Sirius!”

“You’re still bleeding!”

Remus ran his tongue along his lip—sure enough, the salty tang of blood filled his mouth. He swore under his breath and held his sleeve to his lip; his cheekbone throbbed and he knew it would be swollen in mere hours.

“Here.”

“I don’t need that.”

“You’d rather stain your sleeve than accept a tissue from me?”

“It’s a black sweatshirt, it’s fine.” Sirius muttered something. “Care to share with the class?”

Sirius sighed as he turned off the freeway. “I said it was your idea to keep these here in the first place. I don’t know why you’re being all pissy with me. We’ve lost games before.”

“I’m pissed because you don’t think I can handle myself in a fight.”

Sirius took his eyes off the road for a half second in shock. “Excuse me? Why do you think that?”

“I just told you!” Remus said, exasperated. “Snape was being a dick, so I punched him. I didn’t need your hero complex to swoop in and save the day.”

“Re, I didn’t even get a hand on him. Pots—”

“Oh, I’m pissed at him as well,” Remus snorted, staring out the passenger window at the blurry lights against the dark. “If someone calls me a whore, I’d rather get the message across that they can’t do it again.”

“Would you rather have gotten a penalty?”

“Yes.”

“That is unbelievably selfish.”

Remus laughed without humor. “Y’know, it’s really funny that you’ve never had this conversation with Logan, the king of the penalty box. Is it because he’s not a delicate flower like me?”

“Wh—” Sirius clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Remus. I have never seen you as a—a delicate flower. For your information, I have chewed Logan out on multiple occasions.”

Remus gritted his teeth and trained his gaze firmly out the window. He heard Sirius sigh next to him and it took every ounce of willpower to keep his composure. The next ten minutes were dead silent and deeply uncomfortable, which was a rarity with them; even after losses, they would talk through the errors or try to lighten the mood.

Both of them closed their doors a little harder than necessary when they got to the house and Hattie trotted over hesitantly when they came inside. “Hey, Hatters,” Remus murmured, crouching down to her level and holding a hand out. She licked his cheek and let him bury his face in her thick fur—Sirius scratched her ears as he walked past. “Did you have a good time while we were out? Huh, baby girl?” He looked up and saw the tail end of Sirius’ eye roll. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Sirius, it doesn’t work. I’m giving the dog a hug because I’m still pissed at you.”

“There is literally no good reason for you to be pissed at me!” Sirius finally said, tossing his keys into the bowl by the door. “Holy shit, Re, I don’t even think you’re mad at me!”

“Oh, yeah? Then who am I mad at, oh great and wise captain?” Remus practically spat, shouldering past him into the kitchen and wrenching a cabinet open. “Please enlighten me.”

“I wish I knew!”

Remus slammed the bread down on the counter and glared at him. “Then maybe you should shut the fuck up if you don’t have anything to support your claim.”

“Acting like this is a goddamn debate club isn’t helping. Your lip is bleeding again.”

“Fuck.” Remus ripped a paper towel off the roll and dampened it, holding it to his lip with a wince. Sirius opened the freezer and dug around for a moment with another paper towel. “I don’t remember you getting hit.”

“This is for you, you stubborn fucker,” Sirius said as he walked over and pressed it gently to the side of Remus’ face. “Better?”

“…a bit.”

The tension on Sirius’ face began to fade; he just looked concerned as he pulled the ice away and checked the bruise. “Your eye might swell.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you actually want to talk now, or should we yell a little more?”

Remus sighed and felt his anger abate. He was beyond exhausted, and still upset, but having Sirius nearby was like balm on a burn. “I don’t know.”

“I’m going to make some sandwiches. Hold this.” Sirius tapped the ice towel and moved to the abandoned loaf, grabbing some peanut butter and jelly as he went.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I’m fine.”

Sirius glanced over his shoulder and gave him a look. “I know you, Re. You’re not going to feel better unless you get some food, and neither will I.”

“I hate it when you’re reasonable.”

“No, you don’t.”

Remus’ lack of response was enough of an answer. The pain stretched to his forehead and he grimaced, prodding his lip cautiously. Sirius whistled for Hattie and spread the leftover peanut butter from the knife onto a clean spoon, holding it down for her to lick. A smile tugged the corner of Remus’ mouth. “Cute.”

“I can be cute on occasion.”

“You’re always cute.” There was a beat of quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. I’m sorry for yelling.”

“Not for interrupting the fight?”

“Nope.”

“That’s fair.” Something tickled at the back of Remus’ throat. “I fucking hate Snape.”

“Me, too.”

“Surprisingly enough, it feels pretty shitty to be called a whore. Who would’ve thought?”

Sirius turned and faced him, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His eyes were soft. “You know that’s not true, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Remus. What he said wasn’t true. You have nothing to prove to anyone on the team, least of all to me. You earned that spot on the roster fair and square, and Snape’s just freaked out because there’s another player who could grind him into the dust without breaking a sweat.” He stepped closer and leaned on the counter next to Remus, leaving a few inches between them. “I don’t think you’re a whore, if that means anything.”

Remus laughed softly. “Of all the people out there, I think you’re the only one who could reliably make that assumption.”

Sirius didn’t smile. “You’re my best friend and also my fiancé. The sex is a great bonus, but my favorite part of being with you is just being with you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Remus muttered, though the sharp edges began to smooth in his gut. He closed the distance between them and laid his head on Sirius’ shoulder. “Love you.”

“I love you, too. Can I take a look at your lip?”

“Sure.” Remus peeled the towel away and Sirius bent slightly, poking the area around it. “Ouch.”

“That’ll probably take a week or so to heal. He got you good.”

Remus pouted. “No kisses for a week?”

Sirius did laugh that time, bright and sunny enough that Remus nearly made his lip bleed again with the answering smile. “I said nothing about no kisses.” Warm lips trailed from his unbruised cheekbone to the edge of his mouth, leaving tiny tingles in their wake.

“I really am sorry about what I said. You were right, I wasn’t angry with you, and I had no right to go off like that.”

Sirius shrugged. “It happens.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Then let’s agree to talk first, bite heads off later, okay?” He held his pinky out and Remus linked it with his own, kissing it quickly.

“Deal. Are the sandwiches done? I’m starving.”

Wordlessly, Sirius handed him a sandwich and hopped up to sit on the counter, scooting over to make room for Remus to join him. They ate quietly, swinging their legs as the calmness of the kitchen crept back in once more.

198 notes · View notes

imaginesbymk · 3 years

Text

“Melting.”

Stranger Things One Shot

Summary: Robin thinks you’re crushing on your best friend Steve, but little did she know...

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Reader

Requester: @fangirlsarah16 “Congrats on 1k lovely!!! 😄💗🎉 that’s so freaking amazing and you deserve it! For your 1k celebration, could I please request a one shot with Robin Buckley where the reader is best friends with Steve and Robin has a crush on the reader but thinks they are into Steve so Robin is upset by it and when they hang out, Robin accidentally confesses and the reader kisses her to proves they like her? Thanks love! 💖”

Tags: swearing

Word Count: 1,241

Author’s Note: sooooo sorry for the huge delay, sarah!! but enjoy!!! song inspiration is melting by kali uchis <333 pls leave a like/reblog + feedback :))

STEVE slumped his way to the front counter to serve a new customer. “Welcome to Scoops, what can I get you?”

You watched him from the window, Robin was watching you watching him - a chain, really. It came to her and she wished to look away. The first time Robin saw you as Steve’s best friend (who is technically her best friend from now on - she doesn’t make the rules), she naturally assumed the obvious: you have a crush on your best friend, the one that’s friends with children.

Now that you’ve been staring at Steve for nearly a minute, that sort of proved her point.

You turned your head around and noticed she was staring at you. “What?”

“Huh, what? Nothing, it’s just uh-” she stammered. “It’s freakin’ hot in here, I’m melting.”

The fact that you were always able to walk in the back and chill at one of the tables with Robin and Steve was beyond either of you three, but neither of you cared - but there wouldn’t be a reason for it to be hot inside an ice cream shop.

“Um, we’re literally right beside the freezer, it’s like minus a thousand degrees.” You popped a piece of gum in your mouth. “Dunno, it could be that cheap uniform your boss made you wear,” you teased.

“Robin, the cash register is broken!” Steve hollers from the other side. That queued Robin to not sit on the job, and she quickly left the back room.

She had this sibling kind of friendship with Steve, and she most certainly couldn’t hate him for being the person you’re crushing on, it wasn’t his fault, the poor kid.

The gentleman who ordered a five dollar vanilla cone stood there as Robin began slamming the side of the register (as if that was gonna get it to work and not break it even more), the thought of an outrage from their boss due to the cost of repair or even buying a new one was out of her mind.

Steve offers the customer a smile.

The door swung open like a saloon, and out you came to see the commotion. You smiled at Robin after noticing what she was doing. Robin’s heart melts like an ice cream faster than the ice cream she serves to customers at Scoops Ahoy whenever you smile at her. For someone who’s miserable and sarcastic eighty-percent of the time, she developed a soft side she never knew she even had. The problem was, she wished you knew that.

After multiple slams, the register let out a sound and the tray pulled out, sending coins flying to the ground.

“Nice. Our boss is gonna pop a vein when he sees this,” Steve says, bending down to the pick up the coins off the floor. You and Robin helped.

Steve starts with one side, you and Robin collected the dimes and pennies. One last dime was spotted, so you reached your hand over to grab it... as did Robin. Her hand was greeted with yours, barely even touching the coin. The both of you shot looks at each other, blushing like hell. Robin’s melting heart solidified back to normal just for it to hammer.

“Ahem,” Steve cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You two wanna fight over the dime?”

The two of you quickly got up and smiled at the customer who just wanted their cone.

“Y/N?” It was hard to resist going on those coin slot horse rides in the middle of the mall, especially when the mall was closed and it was the three of you, plus Dustin and some old sanitation worker cleaning the ground floors, you wasted no time goofing around.

“Yeah?”

“While you were getting hot dogs, my boss threw a fit earlier."

“Oh, crap.” You swung your leg off the horse and hopped off. “Did you tell him you slammed the cash register like dough? That seemed to get it work.”

“That wasn’t what he was pissed at me for,” Robin shook her head.

“Then what is it?”

“He noticed you’ve been entering the back room. You’re not an employee.”

You nodded. “I know I’m not allowed to do that, no one’s allowed unless they’re wearing that stupid sailor’s uniform.”

“Y/N, I got blamed for that but Steve always leaves the door unlocked from the back hallways because he knows you come from there. If the boss sees you there one more time, we’re done. I’ll get fired.”

“So will Steve, he’ll be in hot water, for sure. He’s the one who keeps the door-”

“Forget about Steve, dude!” She snaps.

You chuckle. “Okay! What’s your deal, Robin?”

“Y/N...” Robin sighs, walking towards you. “If you like Steve so much that you’re willing to go inside Scoops and risk his job just to be with him, and then I’m the one taking the blame for it, then that’s kinda shitty.”

“What?” you said. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! You think I like Steve?”

“Hey, don’t drag me into this!” Steve calls from the front of the shop, locking the gates with the keys.

“Shut up Steve!” you both yell.

You both turn to each other. “Hold on, you don’t like Steve?” Robin asks, hoping to confirm it to be a no from you.

“Why would I ever like Steve that way? He’s a friend,” you say.

“Because I see the way you look at him and you laugh the hardest when he falls down like an idiot, it seemed very obvious,” Robin explained.

“Why would you even care about that?”

“Because I like you!” Robin’s voice echoed in the empty shopping mall. Steve stops jiggling the keys inside the locked gates, eyes bulging wide at Robin. Perhaps all three of you had turned red, and froze all together like mannequins on display.

Dustin walks in from the back hallways, managing to sneak out a bowl of dessert, unpaid. “Who wants to take the first bite - too bad it’s me!” he ignores the awkward silence unbeknownst the argument and Robin’s confession.

“Wait, you... like me?” you said softly. Dustin stares at the two teenagers, slowly savoring the taste of the treat as if he was watching a movie in the theater. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Do you know how hard it is to confess something like that to someone?” Robin’s voice cracks. “Especially when you’re convinced that the person you like - likes someone else.”

“Robin, did all of that ice cream make your brain freeze for good? I don’t like Steve,” you shook your head. “I like you. It’s been you this whole time.”

“Are you freaking kidding me right now?” Robin raised a brow. “You never showed it, I never took the slightest hint, like at all.”

Then why else would you convince Steve to unlock the back doors, and let Robin be the first person you see when you enter, just to brighten her dull day on the job? All that for her. You wished there were better ways, and you wished and wished nothing but the best for her than making money serving ice cream at Starcourt.

You rushed towards her, your cold hands from the free ice cream pressing on her shoulders. You leaned in, and did the thing that Robin had been wanting to do since the very beginning.

Steve began to cover Dustin’s eyes.

“How's that for a hint?” you smile at her after pulling away.

taglist: @fangirlsarah16 @moonlit-imagines @captainshazamerica @always-imagine-a-dream @randomfandomimagine @locke-writes

#robin buckley imagine #robin buckley one shot #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #stranger things one shot #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things #reader insert #imagine #one shot

182 notes · View notes

ephemerlskies · 4 years

Text

constant craving 03 | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

[other members - seokjin]

⇢ genre: drabble series, ANGST, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, the same idiocy just in a different font

⇢ word count: 4k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption (drunk jungkook makes his first and final appearance enjoy it while you can), vehicular misdemeanor (drive the speed limit kids), an all out emotional and verbal brawling, a lack of communication on one end and a communicational vomit on the other, seokjin appearance for about .02 seconds, the entirety of this is just.... angst

⇢ summary: your dates with Seokjin had become a somewhat consistent fixture in your schedule, however, jungkook's itinerary seemed to clash with yours when he called you after a night of drinking for reasons you assumed to be him helplessly pleading for a safe return home.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: whew, okay.... this was probably the most argumentative fic i have ever written so prepare yourself. i hope you all enjoy this god awfully angsty installment of the series! also, yes, jungkook is a sentimental drunk and you all know it

part three: i love you

It's true. It's always the biggest pills that are the most difficult to swallow. And if you could compare someone as elusive as Jungkook to anything, it would be the largest pill imaginable. The kind that hurts the first try, then when you drink half your body weight in water, the Jungkook-emblazoned pill forces down your esophagus no easier than the first gulp. You were still holding it in your mouth, pretending that pill wasn't about to dissolve and stain your mouth forever.

And that was the whole process, just to get over Jungkook. Because getting over him wasn't a one-step program. It was waking up everyday, training and retraining your mind not to think of him first thing in the morning. It was resisting the urge to press the send button on multiple texts and funny videos you knew would make him laugh. It was refusing his calls and every memory that would saunter in your mind and compel you to ask him to watch a movie or order takeout.

It was saying yes to Seokjin when he asked you on a date. And, it was doing your best to sever that instinct of yours to ask Jungkook for advice.

But old habits die hard, and this one still clung onto the bit of breath it wielded. That explained why your idiot of a best friend was sitting on your couch, offering half-hearted nods whenever you would walk out draped in a new outfit.

"Okay, this one?" You twirled around, as if doing so would make you any less skeptical of how you looked. And you were never one to scrutinize your appearance so closely, but this was the date. The one that might light the torch to a brighter romantic future and lead you to someone other than the man who could never be yours to begin with.

"Yeah. Cool." At this point, five outfits in, he wasn't paying any attention at all. He couldn't even bring himself to pretend, his eyes lazily fixed onto your dvd player.

"Jungkook, you didn't even look! Let me guess. You wanna play video games. Is that why you're giving fuck-me-eyes to my T.V. set?" You knew a laugh was far along, but you hoped that would get some sort of reaction out of him. Unfortunately, your words were barely registered for a good ten seconds, though, it felt much longer.

"Hm? Oh, sorry. Just tired, I guess." Jungkook said through barely parted lips. You knew when he couldn't even pronounce his words properly, something he took more seriously than others due to the hauntings of a certain speech impediment, there was definitely something wrong.

Things felt off from the moment he walked into your house. Judging from the way he avoided your hug, that alone suggested a sort of imbalance. It was a casual greeting exchanged between the two of you so often that when you lifted your arms to embrace him, it was born of reflexive association. Like Pavlov's dog, trained to hug him the moment you saw him. But the oddity of him almost discretely walking past you before any contact could be made wasn't where the tension bordered.

Following his arrival, he would have littered a few snarky remarks about how messy your kitchen was, while already scavenging through your fridge, just to get a rouse out of you. And Jungkook wouldn't call himself a connoisseur of all things fabric and fashion, but he surely would have a few thoughts consisting more than two-worded responses. But he just sat on your couch, armed with a face any poker player would commend, and gave you insincere cool's or nice's when need be.

"Okay, what's up? Is it Irene?" You sat down since taking a break to figure out what Jungkook was thinking felt better than continuing your self-absorbed fashion show.

"Kinda... We broke up. Well, she broke up with me or... I don't know. It was weird." It bothered you a bit too much that he didn't even look at you. But if he had, then you would have seen a film of red dousing his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Kook. Is there anything I can do? Anything at all? Want me to egg her house?" This time, he did laugh. You felt relieved he could at least ease slightly back into his expressive self, even if it was just a fraction of what he usually was. A fraction of Jungkook was more than enough for you.

"Nah, no need to go to jail for me. It's not like I didn't see it coming, and apparently she felt the same. Whatever." He let out a sigh that sounded trapped in for a while, then sat up. "We have more important things to worry about."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that. Jungkook, literally a week ago you told me she was the love of your life! And now you're just like 'yeah, whatever, I saw it coming.'" You used your notorious 'man voice', which was just yours lowered a few octaves, knowing it would crack another smile along Jungkook's lips. "Come on, I know you love her. This must hurt a lot. I wish... I wish there was something I could do."

You knew exactly what you were doing. Self-sabotage under the guise of consoling your friend. Clearly, it was selfish and regressive to use Jungkook's heartbreak as a means to avoid doing what you could never do before, what you knew deep down you probably would never be able to do: swallow that pill. And what felt even more pathetic than that was the stale, yet persisting hope that he would ask you to stay.

And that's when reality gave you the most gutting and obvious sign. Jungkook was your best friend, the man you had to lug home when he was too drunk to drive, let alone speak coherently or stand. He was the person that buys you ice cream when you're sad, but just as quick to cancel plans with you when Irene needed him. He was just a friend. You'd never be the person he chose, and it nearly made you angry at him for not seeing it all this time.

So, what he said next made everything he was most likely unaware of all too clear to you.

"No, you go have fun. I'll just... chill here?" It was his avoidant way of asking to stay the night, because you knew him to never sleep alone when he had an ache in his heart. "Maybe raid your pantry and use your Netflix account to binge some shows?"

"Fine. Only 'cause I can't say no to you when you're like this." His smile was reimbursement enough for all the food you'd have to restock and the electricity bill that would be higher than usual.

But what he did next, you could almost never forgive him for. It was so subtle, as though it could have passed as an accident or an act he was trying to perform secretly, without any intention of you even noticing. And how could you not notice? The far too temporary and entirely disarming linger of his hand on yours.

Now, you were always one to decipher his most subtle mannerisms, but this one felt beyond the reins of your perceptiveness. It could have been a small gesture of a thank you, but the gentle, and what one could even describe as sentimental, way his skin pressed against yours bore no semblance of a mere expression of gratitude. And it wasn't possible this was a caress of love, because he was already low on currency in that field, spending it completely on Irene.

So, what was it?

How would you describe the way he rested his hand on yours, as if asking you to stay without words, yet punctuating it quick enough to justify it a coincidental form of contact, that your hand just happened to be where his hand was?

"Well, I'm gonna go eat through my problems." Jungkook stood up before you could bat away the wetness in your eyes from your momentary refusal to blink, as if that would somehow help you visualize the meaning of what just happened.

"Oh- Okay. I, um... I should get going." So you did. You walked out your door, and made a decision beyond the demands of your devotion to Jungkook.

Because it probably meant nothing, and he was your best friend, after all.

---

It was easy with Seokjin. And surprisingly enough, that wasn't a bad thing.

You had come to realize everyone craves that passionate kind of love because, in the movies, that's the blueprint for what love should feel like. But that's all it is, something pretty and shiny enough to work into a film. Make believe. And it could never extend beyond the realm of silver screens, where best friends don't magically fall in love and passion awarded more broken hearts than you could count.

Besides, your heart was worn.

See, your heart is a muscle. It works itself to the bone keeping you alive, willing your lungs to breathe, administering blood to each vein and so on. To strain it for someone who was already in love was functionally inefficient. The heart, like any other muscle, grows tired. It can exhaust itself the same way your hand aches after writing for too long.

You needed a break from the gripping emotional aerobics that is and was loving Jeon Jungkook. So, it sufficed that Seokjin was easy. No more overexertion, no more aches and pains and residual soreness occupying your chest, no more of any of that. Because you knew Seokjin liked you, which was safe and easy knowing there was no point mapping out the possible meanings of every inflected word or shrug or smile. They were simply words and shrugs and smiles with him.

And yet, the thing about giving your heart a 'break' is the period succeeding it. When you were finished resting, you knew who would be waiting for you. Who you would always wait for.

"___! Hello?! I can't hear you! It's too loud!" It wasn't really that loud, your idiot of a best friend was just that drunk. You couldn't tell what concerned you more, the fact that his hearing degenerated when he was, from the sound of it, seven shots deep or that this was the third of alcohol-induced call for this week.

"Where are you?" You asked through a sigh, eyes trained on your Twitter feed and ears occupied with the urgent voice blaring through the speaker phone.

And since it was the third time this week, you were not even half-amused by the repetitive stunt he was pulling.

"I don't know... I walked out and now I'm out and I don't know." The hiccup following his messy sentence was comically textbook 'too drunk'. “Hey, we should take a trip! We should, like, go somewhere!”

“The only place you should be going is home.”

“See, I would totally do that, but I have no idea where I am. Why are these street signs so hard to read?” The end and beginning of each word blended together, rendering that sentence one long, slurred word.

By now, the step by step plan synthesized by you had been memorized. And even though you labored your brain to rewire any feelings leaving you at his beck and call, it clearly hadn't been proficient since your keys had already been gathered and his whereabouts programmed in your GPS via his location services.

"You're so annoying." It might have been rude of you to want him to feel guilty, but it was just as rude of him to interrupt your one night off, which was supposed to be spent with Seokjin, with his intoxicated antics. "I'm coming to pick you up."

"Yo- u are? I love you sooo much. You're the best friend ever, ya know that?" Overly emotional professions was your que to drive fifteen miles over the speed limit so he didn't do something stupid enough to land himself in an ICU.

"Okay, I'm almost there. I think I see you. Wave for me?"

The slumped silhouette you were squinting at began to frantically throw its arms side to side, making you both laugh and pull over so he could drag himself into your passenger seat. And, if you were being honest, he looked better as the blackened shadow of himself.

Jungkook, in all his glory, had his shirt almost fully turned backwards, hair ruffled into a mess, and face as red as the time you and him laid on the beach until your skin punished you with a second degree burn. And all those factors didn't amount to how he smelled like he bathed for hours inside a hand sanitizer bottle.

"God, you're a mess, Jungkook." You said that as jokingly as possible, but meant the sternness embedded in each word. Jungkook was a mess, physically and mentally.

"Hey! You're judging me! Stop being th-o mean, ___." Whenever he was this drunk, his lisp made more appearances in his speech than when he wasn't.

You hated how easily it reminded you of when you were in middle school and he was still navigating and rehearsing through his speech patterns. In middle school, when he was the sweet boy with his only fault being his lisp, who gave you his hoodie and a compassionate smile upon meeting you because your current bully plotted the embarrassment of a lifetime with that piece of chocolate on your seat. In middle school, when Jungkook was the only person in your grade who was kind enough to be kind and true to his word when he pledged his loyalty as your best friend. Forever.

With just one word, you were that timid little middle schooler again, helplessly and unconditionally in love with Jungkook.

Hauling Jungkook, who was more muscle than bone and flesh, over to his door was an art form you had trained, practiced, and mastered about thirty or so times before this one. He weighed about twice as much as you could normally carry, and nonetheless, he was out of your car and in his house in no time.

After you locked the door, you turned around to meet Jungkook, rendering the door frame into a crutch and effectively detaining you between his body and the solid wood behind you.

If you weren't so reminiscent in the car seconds before this, then the vodka-scented souvenir on his breath would have gagged you. However, being this close to him, feeling the warmth of his body consuming and overpowering yours, just made you want to sink into him even more and give him everything you had to offer.

His head was hung so when you looked up, you were greeted with Jungkook's lazy smile that gave his lips a boyish asymmetry and draped his eyelids halfway down his irises. And he had you spooled around him so tightly, this look just made him all the more appetizing.

"Kook, we gotta get you to bed, buddy." You tried to ward him off by weaponizing the most strictly platonic nickname you could think of, partnered with a neighborly pat on the back.

It was mostly to remind yourself that this man, who was an inch too close to your face, was your friend, and that in less than ten minutes you were expected to see Seokjin, but from the way he was looking at you, as if he reached into the depths of your heart to devour all your feelings for him and make them his own, you had to remind him of the universally accepted best friend boundaries.

No deep, romantic gazing into each other's eyes. No intimate activity that could be a precursor to anything more affectionate than a hug. No doing exactly what you two were doing as of now.

"Don't call me that." You hoped his aggression against what you said was merely his inebriated irrationally talking, and as always, his emotions were far beyond his control.

And, shamefully, you also hoped it was because he actually did feel the way you felt. What if he wanted the date that Seokjin was going to get tonight and he wanted all the hand holding and none of the back patting, a 'baby' instead of a 'buddy'?

"What? You're drunk-"

"Don't." Before you could drag him by the arm to his bed, a firm palm settled on your torso and closed the gap between you and the door while widening the gap an inch further between Jungkook and his bed, where he would fall asleep without the warmth of the only person he wanted. "___, please."

His voice was strangled with desperation and Jungkook was depleted of all resistance. He just needed to drink you up. To fill himself with the nourishments of your lips, your body, you.

"What-" He could have silenced you easily with a 'shh' or a finger to your lips. Or anything to your lips except his lips.

His lips. They were greedy and giving all at once. Making soft and intimate ministrations against yours as he kissed you before you had the chance to register what was going on. And even when you did, you let his tongue slide into your mouth. This moment was brimming with all the spontaneity you could ever be prepared for, and though it was new, there was no denying that kissing him felt like finally coming home just from the amount of times you had played this moment out in your daydreams. Plus, Jungkook seemed to ease his tongue along yours a bit too confidently for this to be the first time the idea of kissing you has ran through his mind.

You're being stupid, you told yourself and Jungkook, but that didn't matter when you were finally allowed a taste of what it felt like to be kissed and touched and possibly even loved by Jungkook.

Your shirt was bunched halfway up your torso, his body pressed to your front a reprisal for the chill of the door against your back. Jungkook was, admittedly, a phenomenal kisser even when the lens of sobriety wasn't available to him. The way he ran his hands along the bare of your back like some desperate pilgrimage to discover the undiscovered parts of your body and took your bottom lip between his teeth like it was his to begin with was nearly enough to undress you from all your defenses, from all your clothing, from every single barrier that kept you from Jungkook for the past twelve years and let him have you. And finally have him. It was nearly enough.

Your hands divorced his body from yours before your lips and heart were ready to let go. It was painful, but the heartbroken look wringing his face into a tearful frown was even more so.

"No." You pushed him away further only to walk past him and seek refuge in the open space of his living room. "You don't get to do this."

"What? What does-"

"You don't get to drunkenly kiss me, Jungkook. You don't get to hold me and kiss me like you love me. It's not fair."

"Hey-"

"Because you don't. You don't love me..." If you weren't too busy finally permissing the hot words to boil over from pure anger, then you would have felt the even hotter tears wetting the expanse of your cheek.

"Well, how the hell would you know that?" His voice drowned out the loud pumps of blood beating in your ears like a drum.

"Because it would have happened ten years ago, Jungkook! Jesus, it would have been obvious from the beginning. So if you love me, if you really love me, then it wouldn't be happening now, like this. When you were drunk out of your mind and still vulnerable from Irene."

"You don't know anything." If that were the case, then Jungkook somehow knew even less than you.

"Yeah, clearly. I didn't know you'd stoop this low. I thought I was a lot of things to you. But I never thought I'd be some rebound."

"A rebound? You think that's what this is?" Jungkook seemed upset, but to your knowledge he had absolutely no reason to be angry with you.

He was, as always, displacing the burdens he didn't feel like dealing with on you, moderating you into an emotional punching bag. But what hurt more than those scrapes and bruises, was the aftermath of letting him fuck his worries away which would have consisted of him telling you the next morning that it meant nothing, expecting you to nod demurely, maybe even console him, and act like your chest hadn't been emptied and filled with his baggage in the most murderous way.

"Fuck you."

"Wow. You're really being like this? You really wanna talk about this now?

"You know what? Yeah I wanna talk about it. I wanna talk about the years. The years, Jungkook, that I've spent loving you! I- I wanna talk about the amount of times I've spent thinking about you when you were with her, and I probably didn't even cross your mind. Or how about the fucking thousands of times I've spent crying over you because I knew I was never going to be the one you'd want to wake up next to! And I had to watch! I had to fucking watch you fall in love over and over and probably wonder why I didn't fall in love either. It was you. It was always you, Jungkook."

"___, I-"

"No." His attempt to intervene was quickly denied. You were too angry to let him speak, too tired to carry these grievances any longer. "You don't get to talk. It's all out there. I loved you. I still love you! Fuck, I'm trying to get over you. And it's like you know. It's like you can read my mind or something and strike right when I'm about to recover from the last wound."

Your breathing was as heavy as Jungkook's was shallow. He could only stand, breathlessly, only curse himself for ever being so blind and regret taking advantage of your love even if it were entirely unknowingly, just to let his heart sink deeper until it fell completely out of his chest while his tears fell just as heavily.

"I'm done, Jungkook. I'm tired of trying to outrun you in this race that you're not even competing in. I'm tired of loving you. So, I'm done."

All the words Jungkook wanted to say, the words pleading for sound, carving deep gashes in his throat and leaving him vocally impaired, could never amount to the apology you deserved. Maybe this once, he wouldn't leave you wounded. He would gather the nobility to shut up and let you move on from him. Because you wouldn't know from his lapse of silence that he was empathizing with every bit of pain he caused you, and he hated himself more than you did right now for allowing such a pain to ever fall in your hands. But, where you knew you could someday forgive him for it, he knew he would never forgive himself.

He could scrounge for a few things to respond with, pour the weight of his emotions into the scarcity of his words, but he needed to let you leave and be selfless for once in his life.

"I should go. Drink some water before bed, okay?" You mumbled to choke back your tears, though it wouldn't matter letting a few more tears escape since you were previously sob-ranting and he'd seen you cry like this a hundred times before. He was the shoulder you never thought you'd have to miss leaning on, but walking out of his door punctured a hole in you. An empty space in your heart designed for the one person who had crushed the rest of it.

If this were a movie, with star-crossed lovers and a fiery infatuation blooming into what everyone secretly wants: true love, then Jungkook would have ran out of his door and held you close, professing his undying love for you. He would have won you back, reassembled your broken heart into fullness, kissed you beneath the brilliance of the moon, and lived happily ever after.

But this wasn't a movie, and he did none of those things.

Instead, he stumbled his way into his kitchen. He poured himself that cup of water you advised. He thought about how even when you swore to him you were done, you spared a bit of compassion to remind him to take care of himself. He wondered how deserving he was of everything you are. He touched his lips, searching for the echo of yours. He fell into his queen-sized bed meant for two, alone, and whispered the words that were ever eclipsing to the space beside him where he longed for you to lay so you could hear them for yourself.

"I love you."

a/n: sorry to put you through that, but the idea was born and i am but a humble vessel to bring it to life <3 hehe thank you all so much for reading and like i said, don't worry there will be a happy ending!!! (and possibly a longer-than-drabble final chapter to this series)

#bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #ficswithluv #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts writing #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook bestfriend!au #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #constant craving #rubycoast

460 notes · View notes

wintrcaptn · 4 years

Text

It’s You | Chris Evans 🖤

Summary : moving to a new place, not knowing a single person, wasn’t what you had in mind. But wanting a fresh start was the main goal. Little did you know, you were now living next door to none other than Chris Evans.

A/N : I had this dream and thought it would be fun to write a little story off of it. It’s cheesy and I honestly don’t even know if he has neighbors where he lives but oh well. Hope this makes you somewhat happy during these crazy times! Please be safe and don’t forget, wash your hands! (:

The house next door to Chris had been vacant for quite some time and he honestly didn’t even know it had sold.

Until now.

“Dammit.” You groaned to yourself as your books broke through the bottom of the box, falling to the ground.

All you could do was look up and let out a sigh. From driving all night, you were exhausted, stressed and beyond annoyed.

Chris had just finished changing his shirt when he heard the loud ruckus that came from outside, quickly catching his attention.

He watched you for a quick moment before Dodger snapped him back to reality after he bumped into his leg.

“Hey buddy.” He muttered, glancing back at you through the window.

You were struggle to push the broken box to your door. To get it out of the way.

Chris couldn’t help but feel bad. Without a moment to process what he was about to do, he started toward the door, making his way over to you.

It didn’t take long for him to walk over due to being literal next door neighbors. But finally getting to see you clearer he was captivated. Drawn into you for a reason he wasn’t sure as to why.

“Um hey, need some extra hands?”

The voice came from behind you, startling you. “Shit!” You exclaimed, holding your chest with your hand. “You scared me!”

You cut the word short once your eyes met his, suddenly, you were at loss for words.

“I—I’m so sorry.” He muttered. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I was—“ he stopped when he noticed your expression, one he has seen too many times on fans faces.

He didn’t mind really, but sometimes he wished he wasn’t so recognizable.

“You seemed like you needed a hand.” He flashed a smirk.

Swallowing hard, toy forced yourself to snap out of whatever the hell you were lost in. Which was harder than you thought.

“T-Thank you. But I’m okay.” You managed to get out. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

Chris’ lips curved at the edges, forming a soft smile. “Chris. It’s nice to meet you.”

As if you didn’t know who he was.

You tried to collect yourself and return back to moving the box full of books. But unfortunately, it was useless. With it falling apart and the weight of it all, you were having a hard time.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” He asked, his hands deep in his front pockets. “It kind of looks like you’re struggling.”

“Struggle is my middle name.”

Immediately, you winced are how horrible that joke was, which only created Chris to chuckle.

You knew having help would make things a lot easier, but you didn’t want to come off as creepy, mainly because you knew you’d probably stare too much or say the wrong things. It’s not everyday you move next door to your celebrity crush.

This whole thing felt like a fan fiction. Which you read from time to time whenever you got tired of the real world.

So it was hard to look him in the eyes and pretend to be cool about the fact that he was your neighbor. Of all people.

“I really am ok—“ before you could finish your sentence, the books fell through the box once again, but this time, one of them landed on your foot.

“Shit!!” You grunted.

Chris strode over to you in an instant, and helped you set the box down.

His hand grazed against yours, and for a moment, you forgot about the pain. Until you shifted in your stance.

“Damn, that’s going to leave a bruise.” You hissed.

Chris couldn’t help but start to laugh. As hard as he tried to hold it in, he couldn’t control it. Before you knew it, you were both standing in your driveway, laughing.

“Great way to break the ice, right?” You cackled.

“Definitely. One hell of a way to meet your neighbor.” He said with a cheeky grin.

You let out a soft sigh, and finally caved. Nothing could be worse than that right? Besides, you’ll be too busy walking back and forth, there won’t be time to talk or embarrass yourself even more for that matter.

“So about that extra hand?”

He nodded and went straight for the box you unsuccessfully moved.

“Where would you like me to put these?” He asked.

“Um anywhere is fine. Thank you.”

He flashed yet another smile and made his way inside, and suddenly you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

‘Holy shit. Chris Evans is my fucking neighbor?!’ You thought you yourself. ‘Okay, be cool Y/N. Don’t be weird.’

As time went on, you were both going back and forth, transferring the boxes into the house. You shared a few glances here and there, and when you would catch each other’s eyes, you couldn’t help but grow bashful and quickly look away.

Feeling like a teenage girl all over again.

Chris on the other hand, he was amused by the way he made you fluster. It was something he was used to experiencing with some fans he encountered, but there was something different when you did it.

After a while, you had small conversations here and there. It started with talking about the weather, then turned into something a little more intimate.

He had asked you about your life, your hobbies, your dreams. And the way you talked about the thing a you loved, he was somehow drawn in even more.

You were funny, and not just in a typical way. It was the one where the laughter rolls up in your chest and bursts out without any restraint.

Talking to him, it almost felt effortless. The words kept slipping through and fell into place. You managed not to screw up.

“I had no idea people still liked the Backstreet Boys.” He chuckled, pointing to your shirt.

“Hey, dont hate on my boys. They have been with me through a lot of relationships and heart breaks.”

He chuckled once again, leaning against your truck, he arms crossed over his chest.

You couldn’t help but get lost in those damn beautiful blue eyes, that you didn’t realize you had unloaded all of the boxes.

“Oh damn, we did it.” You smiled, feeling relieved to have that part done with. “And now all that’s left to do is unpack those damn boxes.”

“But that’s the best part.” He said. “You get to set up everything the way you like and reminisce on all the random crap you find.”

“That’s true. But I’m too sober to get into that mess.” You chuckled.

He knew he should call it a day and let you be, but he wasn’t ready to say bye just yet. He wasn’t ready to walk away.

“Well, let’s crack open some beers and maybe order some pizza while we’re at it.”

You were taken aback by his words, you weren’t sure if you actually heard him right.

“Wait, what?”

“Come on, I’ve helped you this long. Might as well help you finish.”

You snorted and chuckled at the same time, shaking your head.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“I’m sorry, I just have a very dirty mind, and well—“

He paused for a moment before putting two and two together and laughing along with you. “I mean, you could at least take me out on a first date before hitting on me.” He winked.

In that moment, you swore you felt your knees wobble and your breath hitch to the back of your throat.

‘Did he just flirt with me?’

“Trust me, you’d know if I were hitting on you. I’d use some of my famous pick up lines.” You said, feeling a tad confident in that moment. “And besides, I don’t think you could handle me anyway.”

Things were intense between you two. Tension so thick, you could cut it with a knife. But after a long moment of locking his gaze on you, Chris cleared his throat and laughed it off.

“I have some beers at my place I can bring over, and I could order us some food.”

You shook your head no and pulled your phone out of your back pocket. “You literally saved my ass today, the least I could do is buy you food. Pay you for your service or whatever.”

A smirk formed on his lips, “are you calling me a hooker?”

“What? No! I wasn’t! I was just—no. I’m sorry if—“

Chris could see the panic in your eyes and stopped you before you rambled on. “Hey, it’s okay! I was kidding!” He cackled. “I know what you meant. Don’t worry.”

Letting out a sigh, you could feel heat begin to radiate off your body. This is what true embarrassment felt like. Something you were definitely used to since all you ever do is make a fool of yourself.

“I’ll be back. I’m gonna check up on my dog and grab some beer for us.” He said. “Then we can get started on unpacking all of your dark secrets.”

Before you could say anything, he turned on his heels and walked back to his house, leaving you to yourself.

“So much for focusing on myself. How the hell am I suppose to focus when he is my freakin neighbor?!” You mumbled to yourself. Walking back to your house.

Chris was immediately greeted by Dodger the second he opened the door, and his brother Scott who was staying with him for a bit.

“Who’s that?” He asked, pointing out the window. “Because she’s cute.”

“Her name is Y/N. She just moved in—obviously. And please don’t start.”

Scott presses his hands to his chest, pretending to be offended. “Start what? I’m just innocently asking who she is. That’s all.”

“Scott, there’s nothing innocent about you.”

His little brother chuckled and shrugged. “You have a point.”

“Well if you’re done, I am going to grab some drinks and head back to her place.”

“Oh? You two are drinking together already?! Christopher! At least take the girl out on a proper date.”

Chris rolled his eyes as he made his way over to his kitchen. This wasn’t something he wanted to get into at that moment. Especially with his brother.

But he knew he wouldn’t let it go. That wasn’t in his nature.

“She seems like she needs a friend, that’s it.” Chris muttered. “Now let’s drop this okay? Besides, I am in no rush to get into another relationship. I am doing just fine with the way things are.”

Scott pursed his lips, not believing a single word his brother said, but he wasn’t going to push it. “Whatever you say, bro. Just don’t run to me when you start catching feelings, okay?”

“I won’t. Don’t worry.” He chuckled, as he grabbed a six pack of beer from his fridge. “I’ll just be next door, if you need anything.”

“Mhmm.”

As he started back to your place, he kept mumbling to himself, that this was purely platonic. This can’t turn into anything, it just can’t.

And for the most part, he truly believed he had nothing to worry about. But as months come and gone, and you two grew closer each day....

He soon realized just how wrong he was.

——

Chapter Two

#i was bored #im sorry if this sucked #but i think im going to make another part #marvel #chris evans #steve rogers #marveledit #marvel imagine #the avengers #marvel fanfiction #mcu #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #cevans #andy barber #chris evans x female reader #fanfiction #imagines #fanfic

1K notes · View notes

fuckinuchihas · 4 years

Text

So my obsession with Tsukishima does not appear to be going away so here have some like janky fake texts and a mini fic about the hell you feel when you fall in love with Tsukishima Kei.

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Rated: Teen and up+

Warnings: The amount of angst you’d expect to come from falling in love with an asshole...but happy endings all around! Xoxo Enjoy!

‘I’m so stupid,’ you whisper to yourself in the dark of your bedroom. ‘Stupid stupid stupid.’

Of course if Kei knew what you were really thinking he’d probably agree that you’re worse than Kageyama and Hinata combined with or without the head trauma.

What were you expecting anyway… a love confession...from Tsukishima?

He would never.

Even if he actually liked you, even if he wanted you, he’ll never say something like that and not ever in public.

Being in love is lame, you’re lame...and that’s exactly what he’d say to you if he could read the word written on your heart.

One single word…

Kei

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

You do your best to put on a brave face the next day, smiling as you say hello to his mother and feel her arms wrap around you. It takes everything inside you not to break down when Akiteru does the same.

“It’s so good to have you back,” she says, patting your head.

“It’s really nice to be back, don’t have to feel homesick any more,” you lie, because being at home for you has always meant Kei and now it just feels like you’re drifting even further apart. You push away your thoughts and grin up at them. “I know, what do you think of pork and noodles for dinner tonight? It’s the least I can do after Kei picked me up from the airport yesterday.”

“You don’t have to-” he starts, but Akiteru quickly interrupts him.

“Shut up, Kei. Let them make a meal for us,” he says through his smile, “I’ve really missed your cooking.”

You smile, genuinely this time. “Well I’m happy to do it. Seriously, you’re welcome to have dinner next door any time.”

Tsukishima scoffs, but the other two grin at you so you focus on that.

Making dinner is calming, you find your peace in the kitchen even with the whirlwind of emotions that are still spinning wildly in your chest.

A constant thrum of ‘we’re just friends’ plays on loop through your head as you pour the gravy over the drained pasta.

You pull out your phone to let them know dinner is almost ready.

Part of you wishes you did have Akiteru’s number, not that you could use it. You’re trying to pretend everything is okay and Tuskishima isn’t a fucking moron so if you text his brother instead of him to say dinner is ready for the first time ever, he’s definitely going to notice something is up.

You take a deep breath and type out your message.

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

Surprisingly you manage to make it through dinner without too much hassle, mostly thanks to Akiteru who keeps the conversation going.

Tsukishima is quieter than usual but you try not to think too hard about it.

You’ve got to get better at this pulling away thing. No matter how much you try to distance yourself; both emotionally and physically, your heart doesn’t seem to be getting the memo.

“Thank you so much for dinner, it really was delicious. It might be my favorite so far!” Akiteru says and you grin as he wraps around you again.

“You’re welcome and I wasn’t just being polite, you can come over to eat anytime.”

“I will take you at your word, it really is good to have you home, right Kei?”

There’s a hesitation and your heart shatters in your chest. The sharp broken pieces splicing open everything they touch. Each one feels like a gaping stab wound and you’re somehow surprised that you’re not actually bleeding out on the floor.

“Of course,” he says, absentmindedly. He’s been drifting out of the conversation all night and now he’s...he’s staring you in the face and thinking of something or someone else.

“I should really get some work done but you guys have a nice night and don’t forget to save some of the leftovers for your mom, okay?”

“If I have to,” Akiteru grins, sticking his tongue out at you.

You chuckle as they move further into the doorway.

“Goodnight,” they both say, Kei’s almost whispered.

“Goodnight!”

You close the door behind them and start to clean up when there’s a loud almost violent knock on your door.

You wipe your hands off and quickly make your way to open it, only to find Kei red faced and angry on the other side.

“What happened?” you ask, looking around to see if Akiteru is with him.

“That’s what I’d like to know!”

“I don’t-what are you talking about?” you ask, racking your brain for a legitimate reason why he could be angry with you, only to come up empty.

“Every time I leave you, you say be safe... text me when you get home...but not today, not yesterday either. Not once since you got back.”

You honestly didn’t even think about it, you just... you were trying to create distance.

“I’m sorry, Tsukki. Of course I want you to be safe…”

“No, that’s-there’s something... you’re mad about the sign, I know that...I even understand why but I don’t understand this,” he says, shaking his head as a gust of cool air blows around you and you feel yourself shiver.

“Come back in, there’s no sense in catching a cold,” you answer.

Once he’s back inside you sit him on the couch and will yourself to be strong. “Tsukki I’m not mad about the sign...not really. It was funny and any other time I would have laughed but…”

“But what? What happened? What changed?”

And that’s the kicker, nothing changed. Your expectations were too high, too unrealistic, but how do you say that without admitting your feelings?

“I did, I changed Tsukki. I’m sorry that I upset you. I didn’t mean to worry you or anything, not that you’re worried, I’m just saying...I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

“Inconvenience me... “ he says, slowly sounding it out as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Since when have you ever been an inconvenience?”

You sigh, realizing that you’re probably not going to escape this little conversation with your dignity intact. “Tsukki do you remember that black and white spotted stray we found when we were younger?”

“Uh, yes…”

“And how I went out and spent all of my allowance on food and toys because I just expected it would want to come home with me?”

“I don’t see what this has to do with anything but yes I remember it.”

“Well in my heart that dog was already mine, but when I tried to get it inside the house, it would yelp and run away…eventually I just had to realize that the dog wasn’t mine, he wasn’t ever going to be mine. I shouldn’t have just expected him to want to come home with me, to live in a strange place away from the things he’s always known.”

You swallow, heart pounding in your chest as you give him a minute to connect the dots.

“It hurt for a while but eventually I got over it. I will get over this too, don’t worry.”

“I’m the dog…” he says, whispering quietly. The only reason you hear it is because he sat so close.

“I’m going to finish the dishes, you can head home whenever you’re ready,” you say, squeezing his shoulder as you step away.

You barely get a couple feet when you hear a swoosh of air and you’re jerked backward a bit, tight grip on your wrist.

“Kei?”

“I’m not a dog…”

You sigh, “I know Kei, it was just-“

“I’m not a coward either,” he says, cutting you off.

“I wasn’t implying you were scared, Tsukki; only that you don’t belong to me.”

“I-“

“Kei listen I know it’s not fair that I put all of this on you, but you don’t need to feel any obligation. You’ve been the best friend I could ask for, it’s okay that you don’t feel anything beyond that. I’m the one who messed up,” you say, the emotion of it finally starting to come out through your shaky voice and the tears that threaten to spill.

“You’re the most frustrating person I’ve ever met!” he says, tightening his grip before jerking you back in against his chest. “Do I really strike you as someone to do something out of a sense of obligation or duty?”

He’s holding you against him and it feels so warm and comforting and he smells like the fabric softener sheets you used to get for his mom when you went to the store.

The dam breaks and you start crying. You start and you can’t stop, just heaving and sobbing in his arms. It hurts so much.

“I’m sorry, Tsukki. I’m sorry I’m such a loser, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, I’m sorry I couldn’t just be happy with our friendship. I'm so sorry,” you say through the tears, though it’s hardly audible.

“Never apologize for loving me,” he says, pulling away from you just enough to tilt your chin up so he can see your eyes. “After all I’m hoping you can manage to do it another seventy or eighty years.”

Your heart stutters and you gasp in surprise.

You don’t have time to really think about it before you feel his lips on yours, bruising and rough almost like a punishment.

You’re panting and trying to hold yourself up when he pulls away, staring down at you with glassy eyes. “Don’t let me hurt you like that ever again.”

He kisses the top of your head and you feel him frown. “I never imagined you would think that stupid sign meant I didn’t love you. I’m not running away, I want to be yours and for you to be mine.”

“You... you really want that? You’re not just doing this because you umm feel guilty or whatever?”

“Say that again and this time listen to yourself. I’m not the kind of guy who makes big romantic gestures, but that doesn’t mean I love you any less than someone who does.”

“I don’t need gestures. I just need this,” you say, squeezing tighter around him half afraid he’ll disappear.

“Hmm,” he hums, kissing your forehead one last time.

“It’s getting late, I should go but clear out your plans for tomorrow you’re spending time with me.”

“Okay,” you answer easily, happier than you ever thought you could be.

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

When Kei comes to pick you up the next morning he actually comes inside making you chuckle because you haven’t even gotten the invitation out before he pushes you gently to the side and heads straight for your bedroom.

You gasp in shock, “KEI!”

He turns to look at you and seems to just know that’s where your thoughts went and he smirks. “Not quite there yet,’ he says, teasing you in that way that warms your chest but also kinda pisses you off.

“Well then what are you doing, asshole?”

“I’m just getting a few things,” he says, like it’s not your drawers he’s rumbling through as he-packs your suitcase?

“Uhh...where exactly are we going on this date?” you ask, because you’re kinda hoping to be back before dinner time.

“Just trust me, okay?” he says, and he looks kind of...well not serious but determined so you nod quickly to reassure him.

“Okay, I’ll leave things up to you then. Please stay out of my underwear drawer, it’s the smaller middle one,” you say, before grinning and walking away.

You both trust him not to look but also don’t really mind if he does. There’s not a lot of embarrassing things in there or anything, but you doubt Tsukki is the type to investigate, at least not yet...maybe when you’re closer.

He comes out of your room straight faced and wheeling your suitcase behind him like a professional flight attendant even though one of the wheels doesn’t quite spin at the same pace as the others.

Smug fucker knows you’re impressed too.

“Are you ready to go now?” you ask, waiting for him to join you by the door.

“Yes, let’s go.”

He opens the door for you, which is new...and kind of sweet. You try very hard not to let the heat you feel crawling up your neck go all the way to your cheeks.

Then he puts your luggage in and climbs behind the wheel.

You mess with the radio just a bit but you both have similar tastes in music so he doesn’t care too much. You close your eyes for a while and just listen to the music, stealing glances at Tsukishima every now and again to remind yourself that this is real.

After a while you look up and see the road sign for NIA and you jerk forward a bit.

“Tsukki umm...I’m not questioning your judgement or anything but why are we headed to the airport exactly?”

“I thought you were going to trust me…”

“Trusting you doesn’t mean I can’t ask questions,” you say, eyeing him skeptically.

Tsukishima signed, “Don’t make me get the blindfold.”

You barely manage to stay composed at that, but you face toward the window letting the cool glass press against your burning cheeks. “Whatever you say, Tsukki.”

“Now that’s the attitude I’ve been waiting for,” he says, and you can hear his smug grin in his voice.

“I will literally leave you at the airport, don’t push me.”

He laughs, but doesn’t say anything further. It feels a little like he’s grateful for the banter, but that could just be you projecting. You love his sarcasm even when it stings; not having that, even for a couple days, felt like an eternity.

You follow instructions, however reluctantly and eventually Tsukishima pulls into the parking garage near the airport

He hands you the handle of your suitcase instead of wheeling it himself and it’s not that you really mind wheeling it but...why?

“Here, take this and wait for me near the ticket counter, okay?”

“Uhh sure...I guess,” you say, feeling more confused than ever but you told him you’d trust him so you do.

You sit there for a while, long enough for it to cross your mind that maybe he’s just left you there looking like an idiot, but you know he wouldn’t, not really. He has a sharp tongue but Kei isn’t ever intentionally hurtful, not to anyone.

There’s a few sounds, mostly shock as people turn to stare. You follow their gaze and nearly fall out of your seat when you see what they’re looking at.

Tsukishima is somehow managing to hold onto a bouquet of your favorite wildflowers, half a dozen green and gold balloons, and a sign that says, “I’m here to pick up… THE PERSON I LOVE!”

Tears stream down your face as you run and jump up against him, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as they’ll go, completely ignoring the fact that his hands are full and he can’t hold you along with everything else.

The sign drops, the balloons are released into the air and the flowers are smushed but he’s holding you, and to him, that’s the most important one of all.

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

MASTERLIST

#not naruto #haikyuu!!#not knb #my stuff #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukkishima kei #texts and shit #angst with a happy ending

90 notes · View notes

waywardrose13 · 4 years

Text

Falling Stars

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, heartbreak, mentions of divorce and past break-ups

This fic is loosely based on Dolly Parton’s “Jolene.” Lyrics are in italics and in bold.

A/N- This fic is un-betad, as per usual. So all mistakes are mine and there is not nearly enough editing to satisfy me but here we are.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

Your hands were gently cupping your kneecaps. You sat cross legged on your bed you shared with Dean. You stared down at the picture, tears welling in your eyes.

“I thought you should know.”

You sniffled softly. It felt as if your heart had broken into a million little pieces. You had originally tried to catch them all, piece by piece as they fell, hoping you could put them all back together again.

But you eventually gave up as the heart began to crack and break more quickly as everything set in.

“Don’t ask me why I care about you, but I do. I know you don’t trust me, but trust this.”

A shaky sob sighed from your parted lips. The betrayal you felt was greater than anything you’ve ever felt. It felt worse than the time you were nearly clawed to death by a werewolf. It felt worse than the time that vampire sunk its teeth into your neck to rip a chunk of flesh from you. Because this pain was straight to your core. It tore itself through your heart, all the while ripping each string along the way. It was an internal pain that burned so brightly, it set you aflame from the inside out.

Your beauty is beyond compare

With flaming locks of auburn hair

With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

Your smile is like a breath of spring

Your voice is soft like summer rain

And I cannot compete with you

Jolene

You had to admit, she was gorgeous. Her body was tall and lean, with slender, yet round hips, and full breasts. Her face was simply glowing. Green eyes shined behind dark lashes, waves of liquid fire hanging to her waist. Perfectly manicured hands, full rows of pristine teeth, skin like the purest milk.

You hated her.

She was ethereally beautiful. You understood why Dean would want her. You were nothing special, not with fuller hips than you wanted, hip dips, and a squishy belly. Scars littered your body from years of hunting and battling your own demons years before. You used to be ashamed of them. That is, until Dean came along.

“They tell a story,” Dean had said. His cheek rested against your bare stomach. He relaxed as your hand gently ran through his hair.

“Of how I was weak?” You whispered.

Dean shifted, kissing the skin of your belly, lips brushing every so softly against your scars.

“Of how you were strong.”

He looked up at you then, hand cupping your cheek, face inching closer to yours.

“You’ve fought battles and won. These scars show me how strong and brave you are. They tell me you’re here and alive with me.”

Maybe Dean got tired of seeing them. Maybe he missed the feel of soft, unmarred skin beneath his hands.

He talks about you in his sleep

And there's nothing I can do to keep

From crying when he calls your name

Jolene

Crowley’s information simply proved what you’ve thought for months now.

Dean had become more distant, pulling away from you. Your relationship had begun to feel strained, like it was hanging on by a thread, ready to fall apart in any second.

Once upon a time, your name would fall from Dean’s lips as he slept. Sometimes he’d murmur sweet nothings within his dreams of you, whispering how he loved you, how he couldn’t live without you. Now, it was the same, except for the name.

“Jolene,” he would whisper, the phrases in which he used to say about you following after the alien name. You didn’t know a Jolene, hoping he made a mistake. Maybe it was an actress he had a crush on. Or maybe he was remembering an old crush. Whatever it was, you simply hoped it wasn’t what you feared.

But it kept happening. Your name never again slipped from his lips during his sleep. It was always “Jolene.” You never asked him about it. You figured that if you did ask about it, it would make the whole thing real. That your fear would be proved correct, and then you wouldn’t know what to do.

And I can easily understand

How you could easily take my man

But you don't know what he means to me

Jolene

Not only were there pictures of her and Dean together, wrapped in a lover’s embrace, cuddling on a couch inside a foreign home. But there were text exchanges. Somehow, Crowley had obtained all of this information, and you didn’t want to know how. Just why.

Jolene had told Dean to leave you. She wanted to be with him. She thought it was sexy for awhile, sneaking around behind your back. She liked to mock you.

Dean would respond with worse insults about you.

But now, she had her fun, she wanted to settle down with him.

Ha.

Been there, tried that.

He didn’t know what to say to that. She wanted him to say ok, drop you and be with him. He simply changed the subject.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

You carefully gathered each of the photos, arranging them in a neat pile before reaching over to your nightstand drawer, placing the stack of photos inside and closing it.

Dean had left hours ago, not telling you where he was going, simply muttering something about needing a different atmosphere for awhile. Of course, you had your doubts as to where he was going. You wondered if he was going to visit “Jolene.” You wondered if the places he disappeared to were with her.

Dean came back after only moments of being gone with a small package addressed to you. There was no return address, and Dean warned you not to open it, but you ignored him. For some reason, your gut told you that you needed to see what was inside. So you wished Dean a good night and went back to your room.

And here you were.

You could have your choice of men

But I could never love again

He's the only one for me

Jolene

Crowley had included a letter inside the box, amongst the photographs and printouts of text messages.

Chipmunk,

I hope you’re well, darling. I know this may be hard to believe, especially coming from me, but I hope you do. Don’t ask me why I care about you, but I do. I know you don’t trust me, but trust this. Squirrel is seeing someone else. Before you toss this letter in the rubbish and ignore my existence once more, hear me out. I’ve also included some photographs in the box. I’ve had a few of my men keep an eye on your beau. I suspected something was off in our last meeting and I needed to figure it out for myself. I know this must be hard for you, and know that I am deeply sorry you had to find out this way. But I figured it was important, and I know it would be difficult to speak to you without your guard dog breathing down our necks.

The texts were a bit more difficult to obtain. Nothing I couldn’t handle though, darling. Don’t ask how I got them. Don’t even ask why. I have a soft spot for you, Y/N. I thought you should know. You deserve to know.

Crowley.

You read over the letter a few more times. You believed him. Dean had been acting suspicious for some time now, and the photos looked so real. You knew it was real.

You just didn’t want to lose him.

How were you supposed to confront him? Were you even going to? Would you stay with him? He obviously wasn’t in love with you anymore, or else he wouldn’t have branched out.

I had to have this talk with you

My happiness depends on you

And whatever you decide to do

Jolene

You sighed deeply. Turning off the lights, you settled down under the sheets, curling into a fetal position. Your heart was broken. Dean Winchester had been the first and only man you had loved. He was your first everything. He was the only man you ever let into your bed, your heart, your head. The love the two of you had shared was epic. It consumed you so greatly, twirling you up into the air and into the infinite sky, allowing you and Dean to dance amongst the stars together. It hit you so fast and so hard, and you fell before you could comprehend it.

An agonized cry sounded in your ears. It didn’t take long to realize the sound came from your own mouth.

The pain in your chest resonated throughout your body. It seared your heart and burned your soul. It crippled your limbs and set your mind aflame. This was why you pushed everyone away in the first place. This is why you didn’t let people get close to you.

This is why you never wanted to fall in love.

You had witnessed enough heartbreak in your family and friends. Everyone around you since you were little. Love was never something you strived to have. Sure, you were lonely. And yes, sometimes you envied your sisters or your friends for the love they would have. You were happy for them, beyond happy. You were ecstatic when one of your sisters told you she was getting married, or when your older brother announced his girlfriend’s pregnancy, or when your mother finally found a man that was so good and loving to her. You were happy for them all.

However, before that happiness, you also knew they experienced profound heartbreak.

You watched your parents’ divorce happen before your eyes. You watched your sister break down after her first love left her. You watched as your brother had to lift himself up again after his girlfriend of five years broke up with him. And yes, they were all happy now. But you never wanted to experience that loss, that pain. Especially when in your line of work, that loss would most likely be death.

It wasn’t long after you had settled into bed that Dean came into the room. You froze at the sound of his footsteps. He let out a deep breath, changing quickly, and then slipping into bed behind you. He got comfortable and then slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you tightly into his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing the shell of your ear.

You knew you needed to confront him. You knew you should’ve been angry.

I’ll do it tomorrow, you thought to yourself. You closed your eyes, snuggling deeper into his arms. You allowed yourself the peace of falling asleep in the arms of the man you loved so dearly. Let me have this one last time.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him even though you can

Jolene, Jolene

Enjoyed the story? Let me know here! Feedback is loved and greatly appreciated! If your names is crossed out, tumblr won’t let me tag you:(

Jensen/Dean beans:

@dean-winchesters-bacon

@polina-93

@deans-baby-momma

@akshi8278

@sasquatch5

@adoptdontshoppets

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@fangirl-forevers-world

@rawritsmolly

@frozenhuntress67

@reginaphalange2403

@x-waywardaf-x

@jessieray98

@thewinchesterchronicles

@cookiechipdough

@tryn25

@yesfictionalboysarebetter

@angelessquirrel

@ackleholic-hunter

@weepingwillowphoenix

@analisespn

@dolans-lover

@captaincvans

@mrspeacem1nusone

@all-will-be-well-love

Forever Lovlies:

@jennalyncarrigan1230

@mogaruke

@kittyk26

@waywardsepticeye

@luciferslucille

@cookiecakeslive

@wheres-my-cheese

@supernatural-strangerthings-1980

@sunnysaysbookreviews

@nyxveracity

@raining-murder

@just-a-supernatural-sister

@hi-my-name-is-riley

@thehufflepuffblog

@donnaintx

@pisces-cutie

@waywardnerd67

@alexwinchester23

@jotink78

@sandlee44

@blackcherrywhiskey

@ain-t-bovvered

@witch-of-letters

@supernatural-crazed-girl

@gh0stgurl

@choosemyname

@1800-fandoms

@spnskinnyballs

@kcrews74

@adoptdontshoppets

@x-waywardaf-x

@jarpadandjensenaremyheroes

@natura1phenomenon

@deanandsamsbitch

@heyitscam99

@thewinchesterchronicles

@thegirlsadventuresinwonderland

@shortbty14

@frozenhuntress67

@arses21434

@geeksareunique

@squirrelgirl67

@flamencodiva

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #fanfiction #supernatural #waywardrose13 #cheating #angst #fic

206 notes · View notes

possiamo-andare · 4 years

Text

Evergreen: Incantava

Eleonora x Edoardo

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.8k

summary: Edoardo and Eleonora bond after Chicco breaks one of Eleornora’s potted plants.

a/n: idk how i feel about this since I’m not 100% comfortable writing about incantava. I’m still trying to figure out how to write the dynamics of their relationship. Hopefully I was somewhat close. enjoy!

Eleonora Sava came to the realisation that parties were not something she liked. Of course, if it was a celebration that consisted of just her close friends, some nice penne pasta, and music then she would have enjoyed it. But the party that was being hosted in her home right now wasn't that kind of party. Fede had told her that it would be a small gathering, not more than fifteen people. The truth was just the reverse. The truth was that he had welcomed everybody he met, about two hundred people, along with some of the most irritating music she'd ever heard. It wasn't the hardest part of it. Sadly, an invitation had been extended to Edo Incanti. Somehow, the boy who everyone knew she despised was invited to her party. She didn't know who allowed it but by looking at Gio’s mischievous grin, she knew he was the culprit. Gio had thought they would be amazing together and made sure Ele heard him. Edo pinned after her like a lost puppy dog after she had told him off at the yard just weeks before. Though Gio mocked her (which she protested against) about their compatibility, she was still indifferente to this curly guy. If Ele was anything, it was stubborn.

“El -” Eva hiccuped in Ele’s ear, hanging onto her as if the floor underneath the intoxicated girl was trembling. “Ele.”

“Hm?” Ele hummed, too distracted to give her friend a long winded answer. She searched for Edo through the crowd. Although she would never admit she was, she couldn’t help herself. It was as if her eyes were drawn to him.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Eva slurred her words together, almost unintelligible.

Fortunately for Ele, she was fluent in drunken Eva's language and instinctively understood what her friend wanted from her. With a deep sigh and the beginning of a headache, she guided Eva to her washroom where she prayed that Eva would not ask for any more help. Thankfully, Ele did not have to push through the crowd, most people moving out of the way when they saw a drunk girl and her sober friend dashing towards the bathroom.

“I’m gonna wait here.” Ele stated, finally letting go of her drunk friend and pushing her through the threshold of the door.

Eva says nothing, only giggling as she slowly closes the door behind her. Only when Ele hears the familiar sound of a lock clicking, does she finally relax. Tonight has not been the best. She’s been so worried about everyone else, she had not any time to herself to actually party. This was one of the reasons she didn’t like huge parties; she was always the one running around looking after everyone.

She kept her head high, however. She wasn't going to let some bad music and a greedy asshole ruin, a happy night with her friends. Granted, Eva was drunk beyond belief and Silvia had disappeared half way through the night but Ele was determined to let nothing ruin her mood. Because of this determination, she decided it is best to avoid Edo all night to keep her joy intact. She told herself it was because he had a talent of upsetting her in ways no one else could. It was definitely not because he looked too handsome for his own good, or because his curly hair fell around his face in a way that made her stomach drop. It was purely because she hated him. And she always would.

This was proven to be nearly impossible because Edo and his friends loved to cause mayhem and Ele seemed to be constantly looking over her shoulder to see if they were behaving themselves. Even now, as she waited outside the door of the washroom for her friend, she couldn't help but scan the room for the curly haired boy and his rambunctious friends. Unfortunately, it was too late. The second her eyes landed on the group of boys, was also the second Chicco opened the sliding glass door that led to her balcony. Ele's balcony housed tons of different types of potted plants, all very delicate. Only a person that understood botany and the intricacy of flora could enter. Chicco did not fit this criteria. Ele knew what was going to happen before it even did. And when she heard the familiar sound of a pot crashing (having dropped many pots before), she only rolled her eyes. Of course Chicco would be the one to break one of her potted plants.

“Hey!” Ele watches as Edo raises his hands in exasperation, not stepping over the threshold of her balcony. He was almost like a vampire; he couldn’t enter the balcony without the owner allowing him to. It was that, or he understood Ele’s boundaries and the first option seemed more viable. “Dio mio Chicco!”

Ele rushes over to her balcony, leaving Eva in the bathroom. Although she wants to see Edo tell Chicco off for being so clumsy, she rather handle him herself. She didn;t need another reason to thank Edo. She had already said thanks to him way too many times. She approaches Edo at the door of her balcony quietly, as to not draw too much attention to the fact they were talking. Edo is too busy scolding Chicco to see her first and she has to speak up before he even looks to his right.

“What’s happened?” Ele asks, her arms already crossed and her brows pushed together.

These are the walls she puts up whenever she’s around Edo because she’s too scared to show him what her eyes might actually show him. So, she forces herself to look annoyed all the time. Truth is, she could care less if the pot was broken. There was a market ten minutes from her home and the pot cost so little but since Edo was behind the culprit who broke it, she knew she’d have to give him a hard time. God forbid she was easy on Edo. She didn’t want him walking around thinking she had a soft spot for him.

“Ele,” Edo sighs, running his hands through his curly (but shitty) hair. Ele watches from behind him as Chicco is carried out from her balcony and placed on her couch by some of Edo’s friends. Chicco is still smiling and acting as if nothing is the matter. “I’m so sorry. I’ll buy you a new one.”

Ele finally crans her head and looks through the open door of her balcony, finding the mess Chicco left. It’s not as bad as she thought but she can’t let Edo know that. One of her smaller flowers, an evergreen plant her brother bought her last week, has been knocked over. The pot it’s in is cracked and most of the soil is on the floor. Although she’s made a worse mess, she knows Edo feels just terrible. She indulges in the idea that he feels this way for his friend’s accident, considering all the turmoil he’s put her through the last year. Not to mention, the date he made her go on with him. Of course, he technically never forced her and she could’ve just come clean to Silvia and she did actually have a pretty good time, but that's besides the point.

Ele looks back at Edo who, to Ele’s glee, looks terrified and frowns deeper. “That was my favourite plant!” It was, infact, not but she wanted to screw with Edo and by the look on his face, it was working.

Edo rubs his temples, a horrible feeling churning in his stomach. “I’m so sorry, Ele.”

Ele rolls her eyes, suppressing a smile. “Nothing you can do now. I’m just gonna get another pot tomorrow.” She’s just about to turn around when, to her surprise, Edo places a gentle touch to her elbow. She stops before she can turn and feels her heartbeat pick up speed from just that simple touch.

“Let me help. It’s the least I could do.” Edo watches as Ele’s eyes stare at where his fingers caress her elbow and he realizes he has just touched her. It was an accident and he had forgotten, for a moment, how much she hated him.

Ele shakes her head, watching as Edo quickly takes his hand off her elbow. “Eduardo -”

“Edoardo.” He corrects, a small smirk on his face. She’s back to being her snarky self.

“ - I don’t need your help.” She ignores his correction, like all the times she has before.

Edo shrugs. “It’s the least I can do.” He really wants to help. Not to mention, he hopes this good deed will get on Ele’s good side considering he’s been on her bad side for way too long.

Ele shakes her head, indignant. “No, the least you could’ve done was never come to this party.” With that, she turns on her heels and walks away from Edo. She hopes he gets the hint and tries not to follow her but she hears him behind her, only a few steps away.

She decides to get away from this party and see if the market is open. The night has not gone the way she hoped and, in some ways, Chicco helped her out by breaking that pot. Now she can escape the crowd by busying herself with her plants. Although she knows it’s rude to leave her guests, she decides to forget about manners. At least for tonight.

“It was an open invitation.” Edo quips, biting his lip and stifling a laugh, She looks so stiff as she walks, she wonders how she’s able to keep such a straight posture. “Besides, if you didn’t want me to come -”

Ele grabs her coat from the closet and finally turns around to face Edo. She has no good argument so she stays quiet as she adjusts the sleeves on her coat. Although she is facing Edo, she makes no effort to look him in the eyes as he continues to blabber on about Lord knows what.

“Edo! Sta 'zitto!” She just wants him to be quiet for a moment so she can collect her thoughts. Her mind is so scrambled by the loud music and cheering, she slips up and accidentally calls Edo by the nickname so many people call him.

Edo smiles. “Edo? Well, Eleonora Sava, I never thought we were that close.”

Ele rolls her eyes, her cheeks burning from embarrassment. “We’re not.”

Edo leans forward and reaches over her head to grab his coat from the closet. She wishes he wasn’t so close but at the same time, he smells so damn good. Ele’s mind is going so crazy that, for a moment, she goes dizzy. He quickly gets his coat and puts in on himself before Ele even has a chance to ask him what he is doing. For a moment, she thinks he may be going home but she knows better than to think Edo would actually listen to her.

“Well, we went on a date so I’d say we’re pretty close.” He still wears that handsome smirk on his lips and Ele wishes he would stop looking so good just for a second so she could be actually upset with him.

Ele rolls her eyes, ignoring his last comment. She’s more concerned with why he has his coat on. “Why do you have your coat on?”

Edo adjusts his collar, glancing at the mirror to his right before looking back at Ele. “First, you’re basically telling me to leave and now you want to know where I’m going. You’re one confusing woman, Eleonora Sava.”

Ele can’t help but cross her arms over her chest. “You’re going home?” She already knows the answer but asks anyway.

Edo shakes his head. “Of course not. I’m gonna accompany you to get another pot.”

Ele narrows her eyes, stepping closer towards her front door. “How did you know -”

Ele’s cut off by Edo’s laugh and she feels her heart flutter. She quickly swallows and tries to suppress the feeling in her chest as she listens to Edo laugh. “C’mon, Ele, you were looking for an excuse to leave this party. I was watching you. You look like a fish out of water.”

Ele tries to ignore the part where Edo was watching her all night and instead focuses on his teasing of how much she feels uncomfortable in crowds. “Well, not everyone can be Eduardo Incanti, the king of partying and getting shit faced drunk.”

Edo shrugs, a sly smirk always present on his face. “What can I say; I’m the life of the party.”

Ele rolls her eyes yet again. She knows that there has to be some kind of record she has broken because she is constantly rolling her eyes around Edo. “You’re not coming.”

Edo fishes in his coat pocket for a moment before pulling a wad of cash clipped together. He comically waves it in front of Ele’s face for a moment and she can’t help but smile at how stupid he is acting. She wonders if any other girl has seen this side of Edo and although she wants to say yes, she knows the truth. Edo proceeds to take three 20€ from the clip before putting the rest back in his pocket.

“You can keep the change.” He grabs Ele’s hand before she can pull away and hands her the cash. She ignores the way Edo’s fingers feel against her wrist and instead focuses on how that much money feels in her hands.

“Are you trying to bribe me?” Ele asks, her other hand moving to the doorknob. She twists it and opens before Edo has time to reply.

“Maybe. Is it working?”

Ele had been in Edo’s car on one occasion and she had been beyond uncomfortable. He had come to pick her up for their date and although she was furious, she was more uncomfortable. She had not been on a date for years and she hated the feeling of putting on her best face to impress someone you liked. What was even worse was that she didn’t even like Edo so she was getting ready for someone she didn’t even like.

His car was nothing special. Yes, it was expensive but it was Edoardo Incanti and she suspected he would have a luxurious car. Something that threw her off about his car was that it wasn’t flashy. It was a black, small Benz and although luxurious, it was not in the least flashy. The engine was even quiet, which was something she definitely thought he would have upgraded for something louder. This car did not seem like something someone as pompous as Edo would drive.

As she got in his car for the second time, the same thoughts crossed her mind. He had opened the door for her this time, unlike last where he never got out, and she tried to chalk it up to him being his usually egotistical self. The truth was, everything she had originally thought of Edo was proven not to be true. His car was not flashy and neither were his clothes. Yes, his personality showed her an egotistical player but everything else about him was muted. She wondered how wrong she truly was about him.

“Are you there, amore?” Edo’s voice snapped her from her thoughts. She could hear the amusement in his voice as he questioned whether or not she was listening to him.

Ele looked at him, clearly annoyed as he drove down the street. “Do not call me that.”

Edo nodded, pressing his lips together as to laugh at her bewilderment. SHe looked like a deer in headlights when she heard him call her by that pet name. “Sorry.”

Ele rolled her eyes, watching as he pulled into the market’s driveway. “No, you’re not.” Once his car had fully come to a stop, she opened the door herself and closed it with a loud slam. If it was anyone else, she would have been polite but all of her manners are thrown out the window when it comes to Edo.

Edo walks around the front of his car and approaches Ele, loving his car with a button. “You’re right. I’m not.”

Ele pushes past the shitty haired boy and makes her way towards the white tarp where she knows the pots and plants are located. By this time, the market is closed but it is family owned and run so the owners leave the tarp open for passersby to stop and buy a plant. Ele doesn’t bother to look back at Edo and enters the white tarp and starts looking for the right size pot.

As Ele browses through the aisles, looking for the brown pots she has bought on more than one occasion, Edo scrolls through his phone at the entrance of the tarp. When Ele turns around to walk into the next aisle, she sees Edo at the entrance and scoffs. Of course he would be on his phone. She stops looking for a moment and walks back to Edo at the entrance of the tarp.

“If you don’t wanna be here -” Ele starts but never gets a chance to finish her sentence before Edo starts speaking over her.

“It says here that during the winter, Evergreens can enhance comfort and cut heating expenses by protecting homes from brisk winds. Their thick foliage reduces cooling costs when it shields buildings from bright summer sunlight. They also block and absorb traffic noise throughout the year.” Edo smiles as he continues to read interesting facts on his phone about this interesting plant.

Ele nods. “Yes. I did know that.” She always had praised herself for knowing so much about the plants she cares for.

Edo looks up from his phone and at Ele, a smirk playing on his lips. He closes his phone and Ele watches as the only source of light vanishes from his face. She can still see his face from the light shining from the lamppost nearby but the night turns to light blue. “I guess people are kinda like Evergreens.”

Ele raises her brows, not understanding what Edo has just said in the least. “What?”

Edo shrugs, clearly embarrassed by voicing such an out of pocket comment and not explaining. “I don’t know, like, when you’re around good people, they can make you feel comfortable and warm. They can block out all the noise and make it feel as if it’s only the two of you. You know?”

Ele is taken aback by the insight Edo has just shared with her. Before, she thought it nearly impossible for him to ever say something of substance but he has proved her wrong. For the first time since their date, they’re having a sincere conversation. “I know what you mean.”

Edo finally steps inside the tarp and closer to Ele. She’s beyond scared of what is happening between them but she forces herself to stay in one place. As Edo walks closer to her, he reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Ele lets him do this, wanting it more than she wants to admit it. Without realizing it, her hand reaches up to touch Edo’s and she lets his hand rest against her cheek. They’re standing so close to each other, Ele is sure he is going to try to kiss her. The most surprising part is she wants him to. She’s been wondering for way too long how his lips would feel against hers.

Surprisingly, Edo does the exact opposite. After moments of just standing there, he removes his hand from Ele’s face and takes a step back from her. Although she is beyond surprised, she says nothing and instead turns back around, resuming her search for the pots. She rounds another corner and walks into the last aisle to see the pots, stacked on the floor. She picks up the one she thinks is the right size before turning to the entrance to see if Edo is still standing there. She smiles at him for what seems like the first time and then walks to him, a pot in her arms. When she finally approaches him again, his signature smirk is back on his lips.

“Found one.” Ele extends her arms forwards, signalling to Edo that she wants him to take it. Understanding right away, Edo takes the pot from her arms to allow Ele to leave some money behind for the pot.

As he watches her dig through her pocket for the money he had given her, Edo wanders to his relationship with Ele. He knows it’s rocky. That would be an understatement. One minute, she’s pretending to be upset with him to make him feel bad and the next second, she’s allowing him to touch her hair. He knew the second she saw the plant that she was faking but he refused to say anything. He knows Ele doesn’t completely understand how well he can read her. He’s been watching her for over a year now, pining and following after a girl who, until a few weeks ago, he was sure didn’t want anything to do with him. Now, everything has changed.

“That should be enough.” Ele says, looking back to Edo. She left one of the 20€ inside the jar of tips the owners had, hoping they would understand that someone came during the night to buy a pot. When Ele finally makes eye contact with Edo again, she can see his mind is elsewhere as he watches her. “You alright?” She knows this is a dumb question considering what had just happened between them but she can not help herself.

Edo nods, clearing his throat before speaking. “I want us to be friends Ele.”

Ele tries to build a wall between him, knowing where this conversation is going. “That’s not what it’s felt like.”

Edo shrugs, smiling at the scared girl. He figured that’s all Ele was underneath; a girl scared of falling in love. “We should at least try.”

Ele thinks for a moment. She wants this but at the same time, she doesn’t want to give Edo the satisfaction of letting them become friends. She knows the more time she spends with him, the more she will inevitably feel something for him. As much as she knows that can’t happen, she also wants to be happy. “I guess.”

Edo sets down the pot for a moment and extends his hand to Ele to shake. Surprised, Ele wearily extends her hand and allows for Edo to shake it. As their hands touch, they both feel a current being exchanged between the both of them. Ele and Edo feel the electricity flow from their fingertips all the way to their chest and explode. They both know what it means and although they rather not say it aloud, they both know they can never truly be friends.

As they both enter Edo’s car, there is only silence between them. And although they are not saying anything, they are thinking the same thing. When they were touching each other, they felt comfortable and warm. They felt at peace. They felt like Evergreens.

tagging my friend @teamnick who loves incantava as much as I do <3

#eleonora sava #edoardo incanti #edoardo x eleonora #incantava #incantava fic #skamitalia #skamit #skam italia #skamverse #edo #ele #eleonora x edoardo fic

33 notes · View notes

nonsensicalobsessions · 4 years

Text

A Symphony without Strings, Chapter 1

Author’s Notes: as ever, I have music selections for you if you care to listen. As you might guess from the title, music will weave its way in and out of the plot and the characters’ lives, the way they speak, and what they do. For this opening, I have two pieces for you. The first is https://youtu.be/ohQSPR0Z1zM, and the secondhttps://youtu.be/srq45XPUNqM is which is quite short.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Tom received a terse text from Luke:

Take the call, twat.

He answered with, “Rude. I wasn’t avoiding you, you hadn’t even rang yet...”

Luke had no time for pleasantries. “What are you doing right now?”

“Well, I was...”

“Cancel it. I need you in my office. Now.”

Tom was bewildered. “Luke, what the hell? I have plans for the afternoon, I was...”

“And I said cancel them, and get your ass in here. Now!”

Tom was left staring at his phone. Luke had hung up.

He had just finished cleaning up after his morning run, and was preparing to spend the day with his mother and sister, working in their garden. They were not going to be best pleased about his backing out. He sighed before he rang them, and decided to have them vent all their spleen at Luke. He would make sure they had his personal mobile number. There was no way he was going to take the fall for whatever had Luke’s boxers in a twist this time. His conscience was clean. There had been no incidents with wine, women, or song.

Quite depressing, really. He needed to get out more.

Once he arrived, he was aware that everyone was avoiding his eyes. Usually there was an air of bonhomie in the office, and he enjoyed the camaraderie. But the tension could be cut with a knife now, and his stomach twisted. What was going on, he hadn’t done anything!

In desperation, he turned to Luke’s executive assistant. “Come on, Carlotta, help a bloke out. Everyone is behaving like I was caught buggering a sheep on the BBC. What in the devil is going on?”

She shook her head and sighed. “Luke is on the warpath, and everyone is seeking deep shelter. Just go on in, he’s waiting for you. And Tom? I know all sheep are safe with you.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’d offer you tea, but...just...go on in.”

Once Tom shut the door behind him, she murmured, “This goes well beyond a cup of Earl Grey.”

Tom entered Luke’s office, demanding, “What the hell, Luke? Your office is behaving like I’m persona non grata, Carlotta said you have your staff looking for a fallout shelter...and I haven’t done a single thing wrong. Not one thing. I’ve been living the life of a fucking monk. I get up, I go to work, I go home. I run, I walk my dog. I visit my family. Why are you glaring at me like this?”

Luke said through gritted teeth, “What is the one thing I have asked of you from the beginning, Tom? The one thing I have begged you not to do, the one thing I have repeatedly warned you against?”

“Not to sing ‘The Bare Necessities’ after I’ve had too much to drink?” Tom quipped.

Luke’s glare deepened to the point that the mild mannered man looked almost demonic.

Tom sighed. “Not to have some woman arrive at your doorstep claiming she’s knocked up. But that is impossible, Luke. I haven’t been with anyone. In months. Christ, it’s absolutely humiliating to think about how long it’s been since I’ve gotten laid, thank you very much. I just can’t take the chance. Obviously someone has come out of the woodwork, claiming that I’m her baby daddy, but whoever the female in question is, she’s a very bad liar, and thank you for thinking so little of me. You should have done your homework better before losing your mind...”

“Let’s hit the way back machine, Tom,” Luke interrupted, his voice a deadly calm. “Five years ago. You were filming and met a young woman who was working as an extra while studying music at the local university. Her name was...”

“Meredith Skye...Merry,” Tom whispered, in shock, as memories came flooding back to him.

He had met Merry at the canteen as they both shivered, getting a cup of tea. It was bitterly cold that day. He thought the way she’d smiled at him and then looked down and away was adorable, although he knew better than to say so. He followed her with his eyes as she took her cup and walked away. Later, he approached her and offered to take her out for a coffee or tea, and she agreed. It was the beginning of an intense but short lived relationship. Both of them knew there was no future for them. She was in graduate school, hoping to be a conductor someday. She as proficient in piano, violin, and a brilliant cellist. It gave Tom the greatest pleasure to watch her perform pieces in her tiny rowhouse, sometimes in the nude, after they had lain in her small bed together...A tiny woman, Tom used to joke her cello would crush her someday...he would get lost in her music, and her eyes...she had such a sweetly lush form, to her despair. He loved that she wasn’t rail-thin, he would praise her, claiming that she had a figure that Titian would have immortalized had he seen her...Tom loved her wild, curly red hair, and her clear blue eyes that he could lose himself in as he lost himself in her body. It was such a wrench when he had to leave, but they both knew it had to be...she could not, would not, leave her studies. She was so close to her degree, so close to attaining her dream, as she was performing more and more, and her talents were being admired and even requested in very high circles...and he had to continue filming. They didn’t even consider trying to keep in touch, but felt it best to accept that theirs was a beautiful, idyllic moment in time. They were young, and had their lives ahead of them.

“No strings.” That was their understanding from the beginning, and sometimes even said with an ironic smile, as Merry would caress her instruments, and he would caress her as she played them...

“I don’t understand,” Tom shook his head. “Why would she get in touch with you now...and why are you talking about babies popping up? Merry and I were careful, and anyway, that was ages ago. We parted as friends.”

Luke’s voice was stern. “She wanted to just give you this letter.” He slid it across his desk. “I strongly advised that she speak to you, in person.”

“Merry’s here? Right now?” Tom’s head spun around, as he searched the empty office. “Where is she?” A pleased smile was on his face at the thought of seeing her again. He’d missed her.

“Which would you prefer, Tom? The letter, or to hear it from her own lips?”

Tom took a deep breath. “I really cared for Merry. If she wanted to tell me in a letter, then I will honor her wishes.”

Luke’s face could not be more disapproving, his lips pursed in a frown, but he slid the envelope towards Tom, who eagerly opened it.

Dear Tom,

I hope this finds you well. I have been following your career avidly, and I have been so very proud to see you go from strength to strength. I have kept our trysting close to my heart, even as I have longed to crow to all I see, “I know this man! He is just as amazing in person as he is on screen! He deserves every accolade, every word of praise...he is truly the best, most accomplished thespian of our age.”

Since we parted, I finished my degree, and was able to achieve my dream: I was honored to be the conductor of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. I enjoyed every moment, and confess that I was ever looking upward, hoping to move to an even more prestigious company. You know me, always looking for a bigger brass ring, even while reveling in what I have. Ambition, how we spent many hours talking about it, remember?

However, there are a couple of things that changed in my life, and they are the reasons that I have broken my promise to not contact you again, and once you hear them, I think you will understand, and I pray you will even forgive me.

The first, and most important. I do not know how to tell you this, Tom, so I will simply come out and say it, and I ask you to please sit down.

Tom, you are a father. You have a son.

Tom stopped reading. Stopped breathing. He looked up at Luke, completely stricken.

“That...this is impossible. It can’t be. We always used protection, always. Luke, I cared about her, I wouldn’t put her in that situation...”

“Keep reading,” Luke ordered, his voice and face implacable.

I understand your shock and disbelief. I felt just the same when I realized that my symptoms were not some bizarre flu but the signs of pregnancy. The only explanation I can come up with is that night we spent in front of the fire when you were very...playful, before you actually put the condom on...? I don’t know, Tom, that’s my best guess. I will have Liam available for any paternity test that you wish to have run to validate my claim...but I think once you see him, you will know without a doubt that he is yours. Nevertheless, I understand the importance of having the legal proprieties observed.

Liam’s arrival only slowed my stride, he did not stop me. I simply took him along, and I daresay he has not suffered for the ride. He has definitely acquired a taste for music, that’s for sure! At four years of age, he can play simple tunes on both the piano and violin, but I let him set his own pace. He isn’t pressured into anything, I won’t have it. Of course it goes without saying that he is the most brilliant boy that ever was, walking at seven months, talking fluently by fifteen months...but I won’t bore you with my proud mama babble. I have given a photo to Luke so you may see it if and when you are ready.

When he was born, I did not list you as the father. Perhaps that was wrong of me, I don’t know. What I do know is when we parted, it was meant to be for good, and our mantra was, “No strings.” A child is not a string, it is a cable, and I did not wish to inflict such upon you. It didn’t seem fair. You didn’t ask for this. I refused to tie you to me when we had agreed to part and go our separate ways.

So, why am I contacting you now? This brings me to the second reason.

I’m afraid I’ve gone and gotten leukemia, Tom.

For the second time, Tom stopped reading, the air sucked out of his lungs. “Merry. Merry, no,” he gasped. As much as he was shocked with the first revelation, this one hurt his heart. He had cared deeply for the bright young woman, and the thought of her being mortally ill, her light being diminished and perhaps ultimately leaving the world, was a knife to his soul. He looked at Luke. “You did see her, right? Did she look all right? Does she need anything? I mean, is there...”

Luke interrupted. “Keep reading.”

Tom returned to the letter, anguished.

My prognosis is 50-50. I am hopeful, but I also have to be realistic. Should I not be able to beat this, I have to make sure that Liam is taken care of, and I could not in good conscience give his care to another without telling his father about his existence first.

I am not foisting his care upon you. I am not asking you for a single thing—not child support, not acknowledgment, anything. Tom, you must understand this. All choices are yours. If you would Iike to be a part of his life, that does not mean you have to be an intimate part of mine by extension, whether I live another month or a hundred years. I simply cannot let this situation continue. You can be as deeply involved as you wish. The decision is solely at your discretion.

Please forgive me for the decisions that I made. I always made them with love, with your best interests in my heart. I have always wished you well, and still do.

Sincerely yours,

Meredith Skye

Shaken, Tom lowered the letter. It was handwritten, on pale blue stationery. Of course, Merry would not have something so personal typed on plain white paper. That was not her style.

“May I see the photo?” Tom asked quietly.

Luke slid over another small envelope. It contained a professionally printed wallet sized photograph.

Tom swallowed hard, and looked, heart roaring in his ears.

It could have been a photo of himself, when he was the same age.

A smiling young boy sat on a chair, with a bear in his lap. He had blonde hair, with a touch of red, cut short but you could see the tips were trying to curl. He had his mother’s clear cerulean eyes, and an open, brilliant smile...but Tom could see his features clearly stamped on the little boy’s face.

A storm of emotions were warring in his breast, but all he could think to say was, “Well, hello, there, Liam. I’m your dad.”

Luke remained silent, even as tears coursed down his best client’s, his best friend’s, face.

Tom scrutinized the photo, looking at the child’s hands (long fingers like mine, if he wants to keep up with his music studies that can only be to his advantage), his legs (I can’t see how long they are in the photo, is he going to be a bean pole too?), his ears (ah, sorry, kid).

Tom looked up and hoarsely asked, “Is Merry here? May I see her?”

“She’s in the conference room,” Luke replied. “She wasn’t certain you would wish to see her. I was certain you would. I was also certain if she left the building, you would go haring off after her and God knows what kind of public scene you would create, so I implored her to stay here and wait for you, which is why I was so adamant you come right away.”

“She’s been there all this time, Luke, that’s uncalled for...!” Tom stood up immediately.

“Stop it, Tom,” Luke stood as well. “I made sure to keep her very comfortable, complete with every refreshment she wouldn’t ask for, and had both a sofa and recliner brought in for her comfort. Come. I’ll bring you to her.”

Like a chastened child, Tom allowed himself to be led from Luke’s office to the conference room, feeling simultaneously as though he was being brought to the headmaster’s office from his past, and about to see his future, all at one go.

Luke opened the door, and stepped aside.

“You’re not coming in with...?”

“Oh, no,” Luke replied grimly. “This is all yours. It’s your life, your decision. I just get to spin it.”

Tom squared his shoulders and walked in, thinking in the recesses of his mind if he had any idea how momentous this morning? afternoon? was going to be, he would have dressed for it. A white button up and black jeans hardly seemed appropriate for this.

Once the door was shut, he looked around, and still saw no one.

“Merry,” he called out softly.

“Tom.”

She stepped out from behind the room’s divider. “I didn’t know who would come in, so I thought it best I slip behind here, just in case.”

As much as Tom had been hit with revelation after revelation, this one was the cruelest.

Merry was but a shadow of how he remembered her. A bright head covering failed to conceal that her glorious head of hair was gone. Her face was pasty white, and her clothes hung on her frail frame. Her once bright smile was tremulous.

“Are you just going to stand there, then?” Her voice was also less sure, not the confident, laughing one that he remembered so fondly.

He crossed the room in four quick strides, and took her into his arms gently but firmly.

“Merry,” he whispered brokenly. “I can’t take everything in yet, but seeing you like this is hardest to fathom.”

“Oh, I know I look...different,” she laughed, and he wasn’t fooled for a moment.

“It’s not that, I just can’t bear to think of you hurting...Come, sit down, and let’s talk,” he urged her.

Merry had been in agony ever since Luke had left her in the room to await either his return, or Tom’s arrival. She had no way of knowing which it would be. The Tom she had bid farewell to had been nothing but warm, tender, and generous, and she hoped that he had remained the same, but it was impossible to say. With his skyrocketing fame, and fairly disastrous love affairs, she could easily see where he might no longer be so. She had sent a missive to Luke’s office, requesting a private meeting with him with regards to her past association with Tom, assuring the publicist she meant Tom no harm and no scandal, but it was important she get in touch him as soon as possible. She gave her name, and the dates and location that they had been together, hoping it would be enough to prove she was legitimately connected to Tom at one point, and not being deceitful. Apparently it was enough, for Luke got back to her swiftly, albeit tersely. Well, she could understand it. She explained she was in the area, and wished to drop off a letter. All she wanted was his word he ensure Tom receive it. Luke was quite firm she come into the office, even to the point of sending a car for her. Once she arrived, she was ushered into his private office. She could tell her appearance took him aback. Hell, it took herself aback, she looked like death on toast these days. She had just gotten the okay to travel after another round of chemotherapy, and she still flew wearing a mask, not that she had any faith in them.

Once she gave him the letter, he skillfully extracted the nature of the contents, and sighed. Merry hastened to reassure Luke that there was no incipient scandal, she was not about to sue for child support, paternity, anything. She simply wanted to let Tom know of his son’s existence. End of story.

“Mr. Windsor...”

“Luke,” he reminded her again.

“I implore you trust me. I know you must meet all sorts of people, with all sorts of agendas, and many of them self-serving. I have nothing but Tom’s best interests at heart. I would never do a thing to hurt him, or his career. The time we spent together was very special, and I hold those memories close to my heart. We parted as friends and I would never do anything to hurt him, it would be like hurting myself. I just cannot take the chance of my health deteriorating and him not knowing, any longer. If he wants to continue his life as it is, then so be it, and no hard feelings. If I had talked with him about Liam from the beginning, that would be one thing...but I didn’t. I took that decision away from him. I take full responsibility. If Tom would Iike to see Liam from a distance, well, all I would ask is that he not hurt or confuse him by being in and out of his life. I don’t see Tom doing that to a child, not with his own background...anything more than that, is his decision.”

“What if Tom should decide to battle you for full custody?”

Merry had grown even whiter, as impossible as it seemed.

“I will cross that bridge when, and if, I come to it,” was her reply. “I would hope it would not come to it.”

“He has more resources than you,” Luke pressed on. “After all, he is well known, and certainly enjoys popular opinion, the Internet’s Boyfriend and all that. He has quite an enviable bank account. The fact that you hid his child from him, well, I’m afraid that it would not look good for you. Combined with your ill health...perhaps it would be best if you, and your letter, simply walk away. Of course, I can help you with any expenses you may have occurred with your journey here, all you would have to do is name the figure...?”

Merry had leaned back, appalled.

“I don’t want to name a figure, I never wanted money, any money. You’re disgusting, Mr. Windsor. I have enough of my own money, and I cannot buy my health back, at any price. My request remains as is was when I approached you. Please just give the letter to Tom. Shit, have him read it in your presence to ensure it says as I’ve told you, or better yet, give me another envelope, I’ll open this one so you can read it yourself and I’ll seal it in another to give to Tom, and then I’m gone.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, and actually smiled for the first time.

“Congratulations, Merry.”

“What?”

“You pass.”

Tom was livid.

“I am going to kill him,” he vowed.

“You will do no such thing. He protects you, Tom. And I daresay he does it not because you are his client, but because you are his friend, and he cares about you. After all,” Merry paused, and looked down and away, in a gesture that Tom remembered painfully well, “you are very easy to care about.”

Tom leaned forward and took her hands in his. “Tell me about Liam.”

“Before I do, do you understand why I made the decision I did?”

Tom looked deeply into her eyes. “No. Yes. I don’t know, I...I want to say no, Merry, I really do. I want to say you had no right to keep him from me, I would have stuck by you, you must have known that. I could have been a part of his life from the very beginning, I could have been there when he took his first breath, I could have been there for you. What was it like for you, going through it alone? Did you have any help, any support at all? I know your family was a non-starter.”

“I managed.”

“I would have helped, though,” he earnestly replied. “You know that...”

“Tom, think. What I know is during that time, you were busy non-stop. You were shooting, doing film promotion tours...I was paying attention, believe me. Every time I thought, this is it, I cannot, I can’t do this alone anymore, I would stop and look to see where you were, and I saw it would be the height of selfishness to drag you away from your work.”

“It took both of us to create Liam,” he reproached her. “And, as you commented, it probably was my carelessness that made the situation possible.”

“Yes, and it was my decision to keep said situation going,” she responded evenly. “There was no way, no way at all, I could reject our child. Not as long as I had breath. Was the timing convenient, no, but...”

“So why does it get to be inconvenient for you, but not for me?” Now Tom was becoming agitated.

Merry shrugged, her expression rueful. “Biology, Tom.”

Tom snorted, unable to argue her point. Merry always did have a trenchant wit. And when he stopped to think about the time frame she referenced, she was absolutely correct. Should she had reached out to him during her pregnancy, would he have been excited? Pleased? It was a safe bet to say his response, at least at first, would have been one of blind panic and agitation, rather than acceptance and support. (His first response would likely have been, “Luke is going to kill me!”) Merry knew it, and had acted accordingly. She had protected him at her expense. It wasn’t fair, but he understood.

“I don’t like it, Merry, but I understand. Thank you, for coming to me now. Please know what Luke said would never, will never, come to pass. I would put ground glass in my tea before I tried to take Liam from you.”

Merry felt an enormous weight fall from her shoulders. “Thank you, Tom, for saying so. I didn’t imagine you would, but thank you just the same.”

“What about you, Merry? What can be done for you?”

She looked away from him, and Tom gently took her chin to guide her face to force her eyes to meet his again. “Please, darling. Seeing you this ill breaks my heart. What is being done for you? Is there someone in your life now, someone who is giving you the love and care you deserve?”

Merry broke away from his gaze once more. “Damn you, Tom. Always with the difficult questions.”

“How are these difficult questions?”

“You asked them before, you know. ‘Where is your family? What do you mean, they abandoned you, who could ever abandon a treasure like you?’ I remember, Tom.”

He wrapped his arms around her more and gently guided her head to his shoulder, hearing the slight tremor in her voice. She hated to cry, loathed dropping her guard unless she felt absolutely safe. Once upon a time she had felt such with him, but... “I remember, too. It’s still me, you know. Your Tom. I know how you insist on doing everything you can alone, rather than ask for a single bit of help. So I ask again...is there anyone in your life, Merry? I promise not to be jealous. Much.”

She laughed a bit. “No, no one. I was seeing a flutist for awhile. Dreadful mistake that was. Never date a flutist, Tom. The ego, dear God.”

“Noted,” he gravely agreed. “Did you fly here from Baltimore, then?”

“New York, actually. I’ve been going to Sloan Kettering for my treatment. There’s been some breakthrough protocols there and my physician at Johns Hopkins referred me. As soon as it was safe for me to travel, I left.”

“Alone, then.”

“Not alone, exactly,” she hedged. “I did have some travel companions.”

“And those would be...”

He felt her take a deep breath as she sat back to look at him steadily. “Clara, my healthcare provider. Sloan Kettering insisted that I be followed because of the clinical trial I’m in, you see...”

Tom nodded slowly, a sick feeling in his stomach. He hadn’t realized until now her treatment was experimental. It did not bode well for her, the fact she was placed in an experimental treatment, that standard care was no longer a viable option.

“I am glad you aren’t alone,” he replied simply.

“And...” she faltered.

“And,” he gently prompted.

“Aiden...”

“How does Aiden help you?”

“Aiden isn’t here for me, exactly.” She closed her eyes, then opened them again. “Aiden is here for Liam. He’s Liam’s tutor, music coach, and wrangler.”

Tom was stunned. “Liam is here? In London?”

Merry gave a very slight nod. “I never go anywhere without him, Tom. Yes, Liam is here. Right now,” she checked her watch, “they are flying kites in Regent’s Park. Or feeding ducks. Liam loves to feed ducks.”

Once more, Tom’s heart was roaring in his ears. “Can I...may I see him? Meet him?”

She leaned back into the sofa, doing her best not to wince. It was shaping up to be a long day, and Merry was exhausted. “I don’t know, Tom. How do you want to meet him? As a friend of his mother’s? Then yes, certainly. As his long lost father? Then I’m not so sure.”

Tom’s eyes snapped with anger. “Why not?”

Ah, there was the temper she recalled. “Because this isn’t a ‘try before you buy’ situation, Tom.”

“How can you dare say that to me?”

With his rage, the door came open. Tom’s head snapped around, to glare at Luke. “Eavesdropping, then?”

“Please,” Luke rolled his eyes. “Although with that last bellow, I’ve no doubt the entire floor heard you. I opened without knocking when I heard you lose your temper, yes, but I was coming to remind you that Merry is undoubtedly weary and to ask her if she would like to be escorted back to her hotel. If she wants your sorry self to accompany her, then no accounting for taste. If she would to rest for awhile first, I can arrange for a discreet location for you to meet later. If an intermediary is a good idea, I am happy to offer myself, or...”

Tom hung his head. “That won’t be necessary. My apologies, Merry.”

“All is well, Tom. Truly. I should not have been flippant with you. So much has been thrown at you today.”

As both Luke and Tom looked at Merry, they could see how very tired and uncomfortable she looked. Tom spoke diffidently. “Merry, where are you staying?”

When she told him, Tom and Luke exchanged a look.

Luke spoke quietly. “Merry, that is a lovely establishment, and I am ready to have a car drive you back so you can get some rest. But I would Iike to offer you an alternative, at least for awhile. Prosper has a suite on retainer here in the city, and I can get you and Tom there easily, where you can continue your discussion without being worried about being seen by photographers. In fact, if you choose, I can have the rest of your party moved there at your convenience, if you will require any...future meetings to take place.”

Merry’s smile was growing wan at this stage. “Luke, I truly appreciate it, but I need to return to my suite. I have my medications there, and it will be time for my next doses soon.” Tom was crestfallen at her reply, and looked hopefully at Luke, who took a deep breath.

“I will be in touch with you soon then. I have your number, and you have mine. Please do not hesitate to contact me, should you need anything, and I do mean anything, no matter how small.” Luke held out his hand, and ignored Tom’s bristling as he helped Merry to her feet. Both men couldn’t help but notice how she was shaking upon rising. “Dear lady,” Luke murmured sympathetically. “I will help you to the car.”

Tom opened his mouth only for Luke to cut him off. “No, Tom, you most emphatically will not escort Ms. Skye to the vehicle. We are keeping this quiet, remember?”

Pressing his lip into a thin line, Tom quickly circumvented Luke to stand before Merry. “May I have your contact information, at least? And give you mine?”

“I have it in hand, Tom,” Luke scolded him. “She’s exhausted already. Let me get her to the car. I’ll be back shortly.”

Tom leaned forward and kissed Merry gently on her cheek. “You will hear from me soon. I am not going to let you escape from me so easily, Meredith Skye.”

The flush and smile she gave him was the same as the one from years ago, and made his heart swell in the same manner. “I’ll hold you to it, Tom Hiddleston.”

tagging my beloved cheerleaders, @hopelessromanticspoonie, @yespolkadotkitty, and @just-the-hiddles

#a symphony without strings #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston #look Christine I did a thing #Nonsensical Writes

144 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner Ch1: Back Into The Field

Summary: Katie heads back to SHIELD following the crazy events in Miami and finds herself on desk arrest following a disciplinary for two weeks. But when catastrophe strikes on a mission, she kinda wishes she had stayed there.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x O/C Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language (no smut, yet, but will be down the line. A bit of angst, injury and blood (some may find upsetting)

Stark Spangled Man: Re-cap

Steve was mad, furious, absolutely and utterly infuriated. His foot tapped as he rode the elevator up to the 95th floor where it pinged open and he stepped into the living area of the tower. Katie uncurled herself off the couch and started to speak before the doors had even shut behind him.

“I know you’re pissed…” she began, but he held his hand up, shaking his head.

“Pissed doesn’t even come into it…” he said, “Are you insane?”

“Not last time I checked.”

He felt his jaw tighten, this wasn’t the time for her jokes or quips. As he looked at she felt herself quell under his gaze and she dropped her eyes from his and sighed.

“I had to help.”

“You’re a fucking idiot_!” he stood, arms folded as he glared at her. She raised an eyebrow at him, but remained silent as he unloaded “You could have been seriously hurt, or killed… I told you to call me!”

“You’re only pissed off because you missed a chance to play the hero…” she snapped and then inwardly groaned. As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them.

“Is…is that actually what you think?” he frowned, looking like puppy dog she’d just kicked across the floor.

“No, its not…” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean…”

“I was worried about you!” he pressed, “Katie, you’re my best friend and I couldn’t cope losing you as well…”

As well as Bucky.

His sentence hung, unfinished, making her feel like shit. She sighed and crossed the room, slipping her arms around his waist. After a second or two he unfolded his arms and hugged her back.

“You should have called me.” He sighed, his tone softening as she lay her head on his chest.“It was so frustrating. Fury was refusing to do anything, if I knew how to fly one of those damned jets I’d have taken one myself…"

“Ask Clint for some flying lessons.” she said, stepping back to look up at him, sighing again as his face displayed no amusement at her attempted joke. “Look, I’m sorry, truth is, I didn’t think. We just got caught up and I didn’t want to drag you into something that wasn’t your fight. This was down to Tony and a very long list of people he has pissed off…”

Steve snorted as he released her from his grip “Well then it isn’t your fight either is it?”

“He’s my brother, Steve, I’d die for him if I had to.” she shrugged.

“How is he now?” Steve asked, following her towards the bar area.

“Seems ok.” she said, stepping behind it. “Recovering from the surgery, destroyed all his Iron Man suits…”

“He what?”

“Clean Slate protocol… blew them all up. Including the one he had made for me.” she slid an open beer across the bar top towards him. He caught it as he settled down on a stool, shaking his head.

“Wait, he made you a suit?” Steve frowned “An Iron Man suit?”

“Iron Maiden…” she grinned, leaning on the bar opposite him as he looked at her blankly. She rolled her eyes and grinned “They’re a band…rock… add them to the list.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and pulled out the notebook she’d gifted to him the year, making a note of the name, before he slipped it back into his jacket pocket.

“So he made you a suit…” he said, motioning her to continue.

“Yeah, well wasn’t much point seeing as I only got to wear it for like half an hour or whatever. It was only a prototype, nothing I could use with SHIELD either as it was too conspicuous, not that it matters anyway as he blew them all up, like a massive firework display”

“Why?” he frowned, bottle paused halfway to his mouth.

“Some kind of outward gesture to Pepper, basically said that any designs for a new one she gets to help him with…”

Steve took a big pull of his beer and swallowed. “That’s a big step for him.”

“Yeah, I know. He loves her.” Katie swallowed a mouthful of beer “And she loves him, she’s good for him.”

“Is she ok now after the whole Extremis thing?”

“Yeah. Tony managed to engineer an antidote with a bit of help from the SHIELD lab and she’s good.”

“And how are you?” he asked.

“Honestly?” Katie snorted, shaking her head “absolutely exhausted by all of it. Gods, Aliens, crazy assed super soldiers that explode…” her eyes narrowed as she eyed him playfully and suspiciously “you’re not gonna explode are you?”

“Not planning on it, no.” his crooked grin spread across his face.

***********

March 2013.

Any doctor would cry if they visited SHIELD; the caffeine and alcohol intake of pretty much every worker there would way exceed a dose construed to be healthy. Mind you, if you asked any agent whether they’d give up coffee or alcohol, they’d say alcohol in a heartbeat. Well, most of them. Katie couldn’t imagine surviving without an ice cold beer on a hot summer’s day, but she also didn’t function until she had her morning cup of Joe. It was a tough choice to make.

Not today though, she needed coffee. And lots of it. After ‘going rogue’ to chase the Mandarin with her brother Fury was pissed and as such was basically giving her the most boring thing he could think of- working through piles of mission reports, analysing and cross referencing them with others to pick up on common threads .To be honest, she didn’t mind it too much. After the excitement of the festive period she had welcomed a relatively quiet return to work, and didn’t particularly give a shit what Fury thought about her either. That said, it was heavy going, but as with anything she was soon engrossed, circling a part of the hard copy of the report with highlighter pen, before glancing back at the screen to cut and paste it into the Scrapbook App she used to trace trends with, letting out a groan.

Nope, this was officially crap.

Steve’s morning wasn’t much better. After one particularly gruelling Ops Training session, whereby one of the newest kids suffered a broken nose after colliding painfully with a stray shock baton, he showered and headed up to find Katie. She’d skipped the Ops training, not particularly needing it to be fair as she was a dead shot as it was, but her main reason was she was buried in work that Fury had dropped on her desk. He found her sat, paper in her hand and she was looking her computer screen. She sighed, scratching at her head before she dropped the file onto the desk letting out a groan. It was such a pure, natural action, Steve felt he was interrupting something, even though he knew he wasn’t. So he gave a little cough and as she turned round, her pretty face cracking into a smile which he returned.

“Fancy lunch?” he asked her.

She nodded instantly “God yes. Can we get FroYo after?”

“Yeah but don’t let me pile it with all that crap this time!” he shot her his best playfully disapproving look as he remembered the first time she had taken him to the Frozen Yoghurt stall. He had loaded his with all sorts of different things and the result had been beyond foul.

Katie gave a laugh and picked up her jacket, shrugging it on. He held the door for her and she stepped under his arm, and he followed her to the elevator.

“Stick to chocolate chip, mint and cookie dough!“ she said, stepping into it. “Trust me.”

They strode across the foyer and into the early spring sun. Katie pulled her jacket tighter around herself as they crossed the street.

“How are you just wearing a shirt?” she asked, looking at Steve as he fell into step besides her, making sure he was on the side nearest the road. He noticed that she’d long since given up chiding him on this old fashioned habit after he had revealed it was something he used to do for his mom too, and Bucky’s younger sister. She’s simply rolled her eyes but today he swore he saw something that looked like a soft smile flicker on her lips when he positioned himself on her left, but as quick as he noticed it, it was gone.

“It’s not too bad. Been through worse.” He grinned as he opened the door to the Deli for her. He followed her in and stood besides her in the queue and became aware that she was looking at him.

“What?” he asked, turning to her exasperatedly. Katie couldn’t help but grin, she enjoyed winding the usually mild mannered man up

“I’m trying to imagine how you would look with a beard. And with shorter hair.” she said causing the Captain to roll his eyes. He was used to her utter random comments now. She was very like her brother in that respect, her mind moved at about 100 miles an hour and half the time he had no idea what made her come out with the stuff she did and to be honest, he’d long since given up attempting to understand.

“Not gonna happen.”

“What the hair cut or the beard?” she asked.

“Neither.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Captain America doesn’t have a beard.” he shook his head.

“Steve Rogers could…”

She was impossible, but Steve couldn’t help but want to laugh. This playfulness was the thing that he enjoyed the most, how she could just treat him like any other punk she knew.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re exhausting?” he rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his face as she stepped forward in the queue.

“Yeah, you.” she spun round to face him, grinning “Several times. But you still come back for more.”

“Well I have the distinct impression if I didn’t you’d hunt me down anyway”

They ordered and ate their lunch, Steve filling her in on the ops drill and after Fro-Yo they made arrangements to slob out that evening at Steve’s with a film. Katie headed back to her office to continue sifting through the Mount Everest of reports she had to do. As with anything once she got the bit between her teeth, she completely zoned out. It was only when she heard a gabble of voices all bidding each other goodbye that she looked up from her work. It was dark outside, and past 6.

“Shit…” she groaned as the realisation washed over her. She was supposed to be at Steve’s for half past. She clicked to save her work whilst calling him at the same time, phone sandwiched between her cheek and shoulder.

“So…I’m running late” she apologised the instant he answered. He chuckled.

“I thought that you said the one good thing about being confined to desk duties was that you set the hours!”

“Yeah, well I got caught up in something…but I’m leaving now. Do you want me to grab pizza on the way?”

“Sounds good, not Chicago Style though. I’m hankering for a proper piece of pie.”

“God you’re such a New Yorker.” she rolled her eyes.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” he said, his voice taking on a mock hurt tone and she could imagine him pouting on the other end of the phone.

“Hmmm, I’m undecided. Right, I’m going now…see you soon.”

“Drive safe.”

“What are you my dad?”

“Old enough to be” he shot back.

“Touche.” she sniggered, cutting the call

*******

“Boring New York style for Mr S Rogers…” she spoke into the intercom and he buzzed her in. By the time she’d climbed the stairs he was waiting at the door to his flat, leaning on the door frame.

“Bout time…” he muttered, taking the boxes off her “Was about to send a search party.”

“Mario’s was packed” she said, kicking off her sneakers and heading straight through to his kitchen to grab a beer out of his fridge without waiting for him to offer, knowing he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to.

Steve headed into the living room, depositing the 3 boxes on the coffee table and reaching straight in for one of the pepperoni slices before Katie flopped down next to him, handing him a beer.

“What we ticking off the list tonight?” she asked.

“A Few Good Men.” he said, nodding at the tv where he had queued the movie up ready.

“Wait...did you manage to navigate that Android box all by yourself…” she looked at him and he sighed.

“I’m not completely useless ya know…”

“Jury’s out.” she teased, curling her legs up onto the sofa next to her.

They watched the film. Steve got most of the references within it. He chuckled in the right places, and laughed out loud when Katie was unable to stop herself uttering the immortal line “You can’t handle the truth” When the film had finished, Katie unfolded herself from where she had been sat and they launched into Steve’s favourite part of Movie Nights- the post film analysis.

“Who was the guy who played the colonel…errr Jessup?” he looked at her.

“Jack Nicholson” she said, “Amazing actor. He’s in a few on your list.”

“He was good. Kaffee annoyed me a little, arrogant, cocksure.”

“Reminds me of Tony” Katie sniggered.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything” he said, giving a little smirk.

“You enjoy it?” she asked.

“Yeah, very good. Better than the one we watched the other night anyway.”

“Yeah, pisses me off though. I mean Galloway, she’s a strong female military woman and they still have to go with the romance angle. And with Kaffee too. Personally I’d have punched him in the face several times.“

“It does seem to be a tried and tested format” he said, leaning back against the cushions on his couch “Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy wins girl over…”

“Appeals to the hopeless romantic in all of us.” Katie shrugged “Crap like that, happy endings and all, never happens unless it’s in a film. What’s more likely to happen is boy gets you into bed and then fucks off when the chase is over. Well, most men anyway.”

Whilst her action and mannerisms remained neutral, the bitterness in her voice gave her away and Steve felt a surge of anger towards her ex. He’d never met the guy and still wanted to punch his lights out for the way he’d treated her. They continued to chat for a bit longer until Katie glanced at her watch,and seeing the time decided to call it a night. Steve walked her down to her car, he always did without fail, another thing she had given up chiding him for and when he came back upstairs and got in the shower, he found himself straying back to the first time he had seen her, the minute she had stepped into the light in the boxing gym and he’d found himself looking into the greenest eyes he had ever seen in his life.

The more he stood there in the shower and thought about her, the more he started to feel something…well…different. And he couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it that he found her attractive? Well of course he did. To be honest, he reckoned you’d have to be blind not to. And if he was totall honest, since he’d seen her the first time in that little boxing gym in New York he had noticed how pretty she was. She had the figure of the stars of his time. Hour glass waist, brunette hair, shapely ass and legs and quite large breasts considering she was so slim. But what did it for him were her eyes. Deep, warm green pools that he could lose himself in quite happily. And that smile, that fucking smile that could make him stop in his tracks when she flashed it. But it was more than just that, she was…well…just Katie.

It was strange, really, she reminded him so much of Peggy in some ways, but in others she was so different. Both were vivacious, smart, strong willed and beautiful. But where Peggy had been harsh, after a military upbringing, Katie had a softer edge to her. She was still ferocious at times, but she was a people person, and somehow knew exactly how to explain and understand what he was trying to say even when he struggled to himself.She made him feel at ease. With that in mind it wasn’t surprising they had grown so close. He could trust her and knew that she would do anything for him because she was a good person. And she made it so easy to be around, he didn’t feel a shred of awkwardness around her.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever find himself a friend he could be as honest and open with again, one he would happily lay his life on the line for, not just out of a sense of duty but out of a sense of love and friendship.

Who you trying to kid, Rogers?

He knew his feelings went deeper than that. All those times he'd felt irritation at other men looking at her or touching her, all those times he'd looked at her and just wanted to smile because she was just her... the fear he had felt when he had known she was off chasing the Mandarin and he wasn’t able to help...none of that was anything to do with mere friendship.

He leaned his forehead against the tiles of the shower cubicle and groaned. He was crushing on his best friend. He was so fucked. *******

Katie’s desk arrest didn’t last long. 2 weeks later she was catapulted back into the field, on what was supposed to be a simple op, simple by SHIELD standards, anyway. They had a request from the Cuban government – all very hush, hush, of course –to take down a drug lord who ran the cartel SHIELD had tangled with last year.

Katie read the files, all the intel, pulled together a briefing and delivered it, answering questions that came her way from the team and then handed over to Steve when it was his turn to take the floor. He started issuing out his orders, and informed everyone that the 3 newest recruits would be joining them as it would be a fairly straight forward op to ease them into.

And it had been, for the most part, until one of those new recruits, Steven Adams, had frozen mid fire fight and as a consequence he’d taken 3 bullets to the chest.

“I got him…” Katie said, calmly taking aim at the hostile responsible and as soon as she knew she’d hit him, she broke cover to get to Adams, as she was closest to him. She skidded to the floor, pressing her hand to his chest and her other reached to his face, turning it to look at her.

“I got you…Adams…look at me…” she said gently, her hand warm, wet and slick with the young man’s blood. Steve dropped besides her and she turned to face him.

“I can’t stop the bleeding…” she said, her tone giving away exactly how worried she was.

“Medic, NOW!” Steve yelled, looking around frantically for help “We need emergency evac…”

“This is just like Coulson all over again…” Katie mumbled to no one in particular as she reached into her belt and retrieved a tab of morphine. Steve gripped the young man’s hand as she administered the pain relief.

“Son,look at me…” he instructed and Adams horrified eyes turned to Steve “That’s it, keep looking at me…”

Steve swallowed, figthing to keep his face calm. He’d seen that look so many times on the battle field, the look that told him the man who lay injured knew he was injured beyond repair, that there was nothing to be done for him. But this was now, 70 years into the future, medical science had worked so many wonders since then, they had to be able to do something, right?

“RUMLOW WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT MEDIC?” Katie screamed, her tone frantic.

“Still got hostiles on us!” Rumlow replied in his ear “Evans has taken 4 down but they’re approaching from the right! We need to cover the medics in and now you’re down there…”

Steve instantly looked round before he looked back at Katie “We can take him ourselves”

She bit her lip, looking at the young man, then up to Steve again. Everything in their training told them not to move casualties, but Steve knew if they stayed here he was going to bleed out.Katie seemed to come to the same conlcusion a she nodded.

"Alright…Brock, we’re coming to you. Have the medics prep the bay…Evans, we need top cover…”

“Roger, Nova…”

“Steven… we’re gonna move you now.” she said, looking at him, her voice calm and level. She took his hand out of Steve’s which allowed the captain to haul him into a lift over his shoulder. Once he had the man positioned he gave a small jerk of his head and Katie picked up his shield in one hand, and her pistol in the other as they broke cover, sprinting across the front of the industrial yard towards the jet. In the corner of his eye, Steve spotted 2 hostiles moving but before he could shout a warning, Katie had fired off 2 shots, the thumps and lack of returning meaning each bullet had hit its target. Soon they were joined by Rumlow who flanked them up the ramp where she dropped the shield to the floor and offered her hand back to Adams, Steve placed him gently on the stretcher.

“It’s gonna be ok…” Katie said, soothing him as the medics bustled around, glancing up every so often to watch what they were doing.

“Can you tell my mom…I love her…and dad…” Adams was mumbling now and she shook her head.

“You can tell them yourself. “she smiled “you’ll be fine, I promise…”

“We’re locked down outside, local authorities are handling it now. How’s he looking?” Rumlow asked as he stepped up besides Steve who had stood back from where Katie was knelt by the injured man. Steve turned to Rumlow, shaking his head sadly.

“Not good. He lost a lot of blood.”

At that point Katie suddenly drew back slightly, looking at the hand held in hers, before she glanced at the medic who was sadly shaking her head. Katie threw her head back closing her eyes as her face screwed up.

“Shit.” Rumlow muttered as Steve pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger.

“Radio base” he turned to Brock, his voice soft “Let’s get him home.”

*******

Writing mission reports wasn’t Katie’s favourite thing to do, but this one was awful. So she’d treated it like ripping off a band aid, and after a horrific nights sleep, she’d been at the T riskelion early to get it done. As a result it was little after 10 am, she was done for the day and was about to head home until she heard a familiar voice.

“Eat me…eat me…” The voice was accompanied by a bag from her favourite bakery, which was hovering in the space between the door and the frame, before Clint Barton’s head poked round the side, a grin plastered on his face.

“Hey!” She beamed at her friend as he dropped a cup holder containing two coffees and the bag onto her desk before taking a seat, scooting the wheeled chair over the floor towards her.

“Heard you had a rough time of it yesterday so I brought donuts and almond croissants.And coffee.”

“Hawkeye, you are a godsend.” she said, taking a large drink and leaning back, closing her eyes.

“That the first time you’ve lost a man on a mission?” Clint asked.

“Other than Coulson.” she shrugged. “He was 24 Clint. His whole life ahead of him.”

Clint watched as she rubbed at her temple before reaching into the bag and pulling out an almond croissant. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten, it must have at least been before the mission.

“How’s Cap taken it?”

“On the outside he seems ok, but I know he blames himself. Keeps saying he shouldn’t have taken him.” Katie shrugged “He’s gone with Fury to see Adams’ parents. Rather him than me.”

“This job is hard.” Clint said after a moment “We fight to keep everyone safe, but y’know, sometimes not everyone makes it. Thing is, if we can’t find a way to deal with that, then maybe next time no one gets saved at all.”

“You mean like Collateral damage?” she snorted, shaking her head.

“No, I mean that everyone one of us that are out in the field know the risks Nova, hell last year 7 of us took on a horde of Aliens in New York. For hours we fought them, and did any of us give a second thought to our own safety? No,because that’s what we do.”

His words made sense. She knew they did, but that didn’t stop the feeling in her stomach that if she had done her research more, maybe she could have spotted something that would have told them about the armour piercing rounds.

*******

Adams’ parents already knew he was dead. Which made it slightly easier. Fury had the local authorities call ahead, common practice now, but still Steve found himself sat on their couch, talking, informing them all about their son’s last moments. They hadn’t shouted, hadn’t screamed or blamed him. Instead, they’d thanked him for what he had done and for bringing him back so they could hold a proper burial.

By the time he got back to base, he was exhausted.

“Here.” Fury said, handing him a glass of scotch from the bottle he had pulled out of his desk. Steve took it, dropping into one of the sofas at the side of the large office, Fury settling into the other. Steve knew the drink couldn’t’ get him drunk, but he liked the momentary buzz he got that lasted all of 60 seconds post sip.

The scotch was smooth, he expected nothing less from the boss. And the pair of them sat in silence for a few moments.

“Ever done that before, a death message?” Fury asked, leaning back.

“Can’t say I have. Wasn’t really my job back in the day.” Steve said, undoing his tie.

“Worst part of the job. Doesn’t matter how many times you do it, never gets any easier.” Fury ran his hand over his face, and it struck Steve how tired his boss actually looked.

“Yeah, it isn’t exactly up there with my favourite thing to do.” he said, rolling the tie up and shoving it into his old Army uniform pocket.

“How’s Nova?” Fury asked.

“She’s upset.” Steve sighed “But she’s strong, she’ll be ok. I’m gonna head over and see how she is later.”

“You two spend a lot of time together outside of work.” Fury commented, innocently enough but there was something in his tone, something that was almost good natured accusation.

“Not a problem is it, Sir?” Steve asked, face straight.

“No, not at all.” Fury said “Why do you think I partnered you up in the first place? She’s a people person…”

“She’s a good friend.” Steve nodded “We get on.”

“Glad to hear it.” Fury said “There’s going to be a debrief with the Secretary of Defense tomorrow.”

Steve sighed “If they’re looking to blame someone, the buck stops with me. I should never have taken the kid.”

“Bullshit.” Fury said simply “I’ve read the reports. From what they say, he just froze.”

“He wasn’t experienced enough.”

“It was a straight forward in and out job Captain.” Fury leaned forward. “What happened was an accident. A tragic one, but an accident none the less. From the reports, neither you nor Stark could have done any more to save his life.”

Steve shrugged, the words were kind but didn’t help him feel any better.

“Taking risks is part of this job.” Fury said simply “It’s a dangerous gig.”

3 glasses of scotch and an hour later he shook the director’s hand and left the office, pulling out his phone. He didn’t want to appear like he was checking up on Katie, so he pinged her a text, dressing it up like it was him who needed to see her, which wasn’t a complete lie. He did, he was craving the normality she gave him.

Can I come over? I could do with seeing a friendly face

He read it a few times, before deciding it was casual enough before he sent it. The reply was almost instantaneous.

My door is always open for you. And I made Mac and Cheese…plenty left.

He couldn’t help but smile. One of the best things about this “new life” was the food, and her Mac and Cheese was frankly his favourite thing to eat on the planet. He shot a message back.

He changed into a pair of sweat and a hoody, hastily making his way to her penthouse and the the smile she gave him when he walked into her place instantly made him feel at ease.

“Hey…” she said, crossing the space towards him and giving him a hug which he happily melted into, a hug they both needed.

“how did it go?” she asked, pulling away.

“As well as can be expected.” He sighed as he followed her into the kitchen, dropping into the stool on the other side of the breakfast bar. “His mom broke down but…they were ok about it. They didn’t shout or yell…”

She flipped the lid off a beer and handed it to him. He took it, with a nod of thanks and pulled a large swig as he sat back down, staring at the bottle in his hand.

He was brooding and blaming himself, Katie could tell so she gently lay her hand on his, reaching over the counter.

“it wasn’t your fault Steve.” she said, gently. She did that all the time, knew what he was thinking. It gave him the unnerving impression that sometimes she could read his mind.

“I should have spotted that shooter…” he said, shaking his head.

“I’m the fucking mission analyst.” she sighed. “I knew from last time those guys were packing, if I’d done more research, maybe I would have found out about the armour piercing rounds…”

“You can’t seriously blame yourself?” Steve’s head shot up unable to believe she actually thought that.

“Why not?” she sighed sadly. She’d been over it a million times in her head that day and had come to the same conclusion every time. She should have spotted something, dug further. “I didn’t do my job.”

“Yes, you did.” he implored, his eyes locking onto hers “Your report clearly set out the layout, the learning from previous missions…Abrams was just too inexperienced, I should never have taken him…”

There was a pause as the microwave pinged and Katie turned to look at it.

“You know, Clint made a good point before.” she said, reaching in for the plate and the smell of the food made his stomach grumble again as she continued “This job, it’s hard. We fight to keep people safe but not everyone makes it back all the time…and if we can’t learn to live with that then maybe next time no one gets saved.”

“It feels like trading lives.” He said as she placed the plate down in front of him “It’s just wrong.”

“I know…” she said, handing him some cutlery and sat down next to him.

“You eaten?” he asked, looking at her, suddenly aware she didn’t have a plate. She nodded.

“Couldn’t have waited until now, I’d have starved to death…” she said, shrugging.

“Hardly.” he replied, mouth full, instantly realising he had said the wrong thing as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Is that a fat joke?” she asked, making him roll his eyes as he swallowed. That hadn’t been it at all, he was referring to the fact that she never actually stopped eating, despite her tiny frame she gave him a run for his money.

“No, that’s not… I mean you’re tiny…” he said, almost choking on his food through his protests.

“So now you’re making short jokes?” She said back, Steve looked at her, dismayed she thought he was picking on her but then he spotted the look in her eyes and rolled his own.

“Punk.”

“Jerk” she shot back.

It was the perfect way to escape the trauma and stress of the last few days. Once they had finished eating the two of them flopped down on her large L shape sofa, Steve’s legs extended along one side of the L shape, her legs on the other as she leaned against his shoulder. He couldn’t help but notice the smell of her shampoo…apple, he thought, along with her perfume. Her proximity was making his head buzz but he wasn’t about to move her. The contact was comforting, clearly for her as well as about an hour or so into the film- the first in the Lord of The Rings trilogy- he felt her head growing heavy. He glanced down and saw that her eyes were closed and as he watched her head slipped slightly. He shifted so that he could catch her gently, and grabbed a cushion from behind him. He placed it against his leg and manouvered her head so that she was lay down, gently brushing her hair off her face. She stirred slightly, snuggling down further into the cushion as he absentmindedly rubbed between her shoulder blades as her breathing grew gentle and even.

Steve stayed like that, engrossed in the film right to the end, surprisingly. He had enjoyed it. Katie hadn’t woken up, and he looked down debating whether or not to wake her or simply carry her through to her bedroom. Pondering for a moment, he decided to do neither, reaching for the remote as he sifted through to find something else to watch. He didn’t want to leave just yet, he was too comfy and too at ease. Picking one of his favourites, Casablanca, he settled down, getting himself comfy as he immersed himself in the familiar world of Rick’s Café Americain. At one point he felt his eyes growing heavy and he lay his head back, deciding to rest them for just a little while…

Cold air was blasting his hair back…there was a hole in the side of the train…then a flash of light and Bucky flew straight through the hole. “BUCKY…” he yelled, grabbing onto the side of the train, the bar in one hand as he stretched to reach his friend with the other.

“Steve…” The voice was louder, but not loud enough. No, he had to get to Bucky…

But he was gone, Steve was grasping at nothing but air.

“Steve…” Katie was doing her best to wake him from his obvious nightmare after he had jolted her awake, thrashing in his sleep. She placed both her hands on his shoulder and shook him. Softly at first, then a bit stronger, trying to shake him out of his sleep. His face contorted into a silent scream and then he jerked awake, his eyes wide, breathing deeply. It took him a while but he suddenly realised where he was and whose eyes were looking at him he took a shaky breath and lay his head back.

Damned it, he’d fallen asleep and had a nightmare. On her sofa.

“Shit…sorry…” he said, his voice croaky “I err…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s fine.” Katie said, gently “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Whilst she was gone he leaned forward, swinging his legs off the couch so his feet touched the floor, wiping his clammy head with his hands.

“Thanks…” he said as she handed him the glass. He took a large gulp, his breathing returning to normal.

“You ok?” she asked, kindly as her hand gently knotted into his, her concern evident.

“Yeah, just a nightmare…” he said softly “I’ve not had one for a while.”

“Understandable with what’s happened.” she said softly “What was it about?”

“It was…just Bucky.” he said shaking his head, “I saw him fall…”

“You know you can talk to me about it Stevie.” she said softly “It might help.”

“They’re always the same.” he said, shaking his head, swallowing thickly “I either replay him falling or me going into the ice…”

She didn’t speak, simply waited for him to continue and for a moment she though he wasn’t going to, but then after a sigh he leaned forward and placed the glass on the table and ran his hands over his face again.

“It was a Hydra train,” he started, “We had a tip that Zola, a Hydra scientist was traveling somewhere and thought that it was our chance to capture him. One step closer to taking down Hydra. There was a blast from one of their weapons and it bounced off my shield and blew open the side of the train car and Bucky was thrown out.” he blinked, swallowing “He grabbed onto a bar and it wasn’t stable, and he fell.”

Katie stayed silent for a moment before her hand curled round his shoulder and she pulled him to her, causing him to lay his head on her shoulder. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have done more” he said softly. The guilt ate him up every day, that he had survived, why had he deserved that any more than Bucy?

“How?” she said again. “How could you have done anymore?”

"I should have gone after him.” he said quietly.

“What would’ve changed if you had?” Katie asked “There’s no way he could have survived that fall.”

“He wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.“ he said softly, "I should have gone after him, brought him home, done something.”

Katie remained quiet, her hand gently running through his hair which was nice, far too nice. He took a deep breath and sat up moving away from her touch.

"What time is it?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Nearly six in the morning” Katie replied

“You’re kidding?” Steve snorted.

“Nope. You want some coffee?” she asked, standing up.

“Yeah if that’s ok…” he replied, following her to the kitchen. From her body language he could tell she was rolling her eyes, even if she wasn’t facing him.

“I don’t know if your Ma ever told you, but it’s rude to run out on a girl after you spend the night with her.”

“And as you know, I’m useless with women.” he said, as he sat down at the barstool on the breakfast bar. He watched her, but he didn’t say anything. She bustled about, throwing some bread in the toaster and went to the fridge for the butter, marmalade and jam, sliding them onto the island. At that point Steve held his hands up.

“You don’t have to-” he started to say, but she silenced him with a glare, similar to the ones Peggy used to give him, the look that could stop him in his tracks it was that stern.

“Shut up.” she said, pouring them both a cup of the coffee before adding milk and a spoon of sugar to both, passing one to him. The bread popped up from the toaster, and she put it on a plate before handing it to him and adding more bread to the machine.

His stomach rumbled and he gave in, smearing butter over his toast. He eyed the jam curiously. He’d had marmalade before but…he looked at Katie and she nodded. “It’s good…”

So he added some, and after a bite he concluded she was right, and nodded in agreement. Once the next round of toast was done she sat next to him.

“So…when did I fall asleep.” she asked, swallowing her food.

“About an hour into the film.” he said, taking another bite of his toast.

She shook her head “What an ass…”

“It wasn’t a problem.” He replied honestly with a shrug, chewing his breakfast “to be honest I enjoyed it.”

She looked at him “What, me drooling on your leg?”

He swallowed, his eyes wide “I meant the film.”

“I know…” she smirked, and he rolled his eyes before he smiled softly.

“Punk…”

Tags @the-omni-princess

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #katie stark #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction

124 notes · View notes

tastefullynefarious · 5 years

Text

Torment never looked so goddamn fine

Chapter 2 / 10 - Billy Idol - Rebel Yell

Sooooo, i was very disappointed that most of the songs in Billy inspired playlists are post 85, so I’m adding one per chapter, a little song that could have actually plaid in the background as the story unfolds.

Word count: 4,134

Warnings: 18+, I have no shame!, Should have proof read this one more time, shameless smut in case I wasn’t clear

Last night a little dancer came dancin' to my door

Last night a little angel came pumping on the floor

She said, come on baby, I got a license for love

And if it expires, pray help from above

Because

In the midnight hour she cried, more, more, more

With a rebel yell she cried, more, more, more

In the midnight hour, babe, more, more, more

With a rebel yell, more, more, more

More, more, more

There was lots of shouting. Screaming actually, long pain-filled howls mixed with curses in a language she didn't yet fully understand. The scalpel was small, but she didn't need much to make them crumble beneath her power. She barely needed anything at all, the minuscule knife and the drawn blood were nothing more than visual aids. That was the beauty of the human brain, you could trick it into believing anything if determined enough, people did it to themselves often without even realizing. But she, oh she could do so much more.

Pain was a funny thing. It lifted some up, made them fight harder, while completely shattering the spirits of others. It was fuel, and its consequences were up to the mentality of whoever it was inflicted upon. But no matter who you were and how strong you thought yourself, there was a threshold, a limit of suffering the brain could handle before it sent signals to the heart to stop. And she could play with that limit as she saw fit, like a dial to turn up and down, making the smallest of cuts feel like the insides were being torn open or a bullet wound like a mere pinch. She could bring the prisoners from the depths of hell to the sweet bliss of nothingness with just her mind and they would spill all their secrets in broken shouts, in that rigid language, needless blood on her hands. And she would hear them long after she was sent back to her little square room and she would see their faces when she closed her eyes.

Sandy woke up in the midnight hour, cold sweat covering her entire body, the screams still rang in her ears. It took her several minutes to distinguish reality from dream, her body shaking uncontrollably. She was not in that room anymore, and she'll be damned if she ever went back. That was the whole reason she came to Hawkins after all.

She hopped in the shower, letting the steaming water soothe away some of the aches in her body and the itch under the skin of her left wrist. She scrubbed the spot relentlessly to no avail, before the pain made her stop. But pain was not a problem to her, never had been; she could just make it stop. Her eyes stared a hole into her wrist, the cover up tattoo faded just enough to make out the original underneath in bold black - 007. The tears came out of nowhere, the shame followed soon after.

How was she still so weak? So easily brought down by things so far in her past? It was pathetic. She punched the hard tile wall, shock spreading through her bones like ink on paper, but she didn't turn the dial down. Sometimes it was good to just feel the burning ache. Sometimes feeling nothing scared her more than the soreness of bruised bones and split open skin.

Sleep wasn't going to come again that night, not between her recurring nightmares and the new problems that arose. She was in her car in moments, hair still dripping wet and an oversized shirt haphazardly thrown on. Driving usually helped calm her nerves, but it was doing little in that moment. Coming to Hawkins must have been a mistake after all. It only brought more questions and none of the sweet release she had dreamed of.

She found the quarry easily despite not particularly looking for it, but it was a good a spot as any to ponder and make sense of her raging thoughts. She was tired. She had expected the nightmares not to fully disappear, but honestly she was hoping they would have at least changed to the new horrors she was exposed to. Apparently childhood trauma was stronger than finding out there was another dimension filled with mind controlling monsters and human eating dogs. It hadn't helped at all to find out that Dr. Brenner - papa - was killed by one of the creatures from the so called Upside Down. She felt somehow cheated. She hadn't particularly wanted to kill him herself, add more blood to her already dripping hands, but she wished she could have seen it, even if just to make sure the fucker had actually bitten the proverbial dust.

Passing her hand through her hair she spotted the blood on the sleeve and recalled the previous day and meeting police chief Hopper. Joining him in the tunnels beneath the pumpkin field, more or less with his knowledge and consent, and then the vines and the creature that attacked them. She was so accustomed to use her powers to get out of anything, but apparently those things - demodogs - felt pain differently. Or perhaps it was because of the hive mind. The pain was not dealt directly to the 'main' brain so it affected the host less. She let out an exasperated sigh, head resting backwards on the seat. It was insane, all of it!

Finding out about El had also been heartbreaking on its own, even if she never got to meet the girl before she had ran away. Hopper didn't, couldn't, understand what is was like to spend your life in a little square room and then being offered a glimpse of the world beyond. It was only a matter of time before the poor girl went to explore the glorious outside with all the restrictions he was putting up. His concern was understandable, his method not so much.

Eleven. There had been four more attempts after her. Four children kidnapped and their families destroyed. She didn't dare wonder too long on what those poor souls had been though, lest she'd be reminded of her own torment. But now that El was gone, Sandy thought her next move would be to find the girl, and maybe even the other three, if they were still alive. She knew for a fact that all the ones before her were long gone, but she hadn't been aware of the ones after. The MKUltra program hadn't died when she burned down the last lab, just redesigned itself. And apparently moved from torturing Soviet spies to opening portals to deadly dimensions of horrors. Fun!

She pressed her head to the steering wheel, exhaling slowly and closing her eyes. Which was a horrendous mistake. She jerked up the second after, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. It was so dark and quiet, almost too quiet. Was that normal silence or the dead stillness that foretold of evils lurking just out of sight, the calm before the storm? Her drumming heart was the only sound for the longest time, so loud she was sure it could be heard all the way to the fucking Upside Down. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a flash of light darted at the edge of her vision.

It turned out to be a car, a blue Camaro in fact. She watched Billy park the car right beside hers and give her a small nod, not opening the window or giving any sign he was going to move from his seat. If anything, he looked like he wanted to be left alone, which was pretty obvious by the choice of place and time.

There was a moment of calmness, his presence there, the normality he brought, chasing away the shadows in her head. But as soon as he turned off the headlights and they were plunged in a seemingly deeper darkness than before, her eyes started again to frantically search for threats behind the treeline. She kept looking his way as well, wondering if he would send her away if she jumped in the passenger seat of his Camaro or be up to relieve some tension with her. She didn't want to be alone, it was selfish, she knew. But at the same time, he didn't seem like the kind of guy to mind a meaningless one time fling. How many girls he must have charmed with that car alone, not to mention that ass?

When she spied that he was having trouble with his lighter Sandy didn't think twice as she opened the door and slipped into his car in one fast, fluid motion, like the night air could have been toxic. She passed him her own lighter as an excuse, but the small smile on his lips and raised brow showed he saw right through her tough girl act.

"Scared of the dark, are we?" He took the lighter nevertheless and she was happy he was letting her stay, even if it was for a little while.

"Of what could be lurking in it." He gave her a weird look, like he had been expecting more of her, despite not knowing anything about her, probably not even her name if Max hadn't told him. "Don't laugh, there had been some weird animal attacks in this stupid town."

Billy just stared at her for another second before turning to look ahead and taking one long drag from his cigar. He was tired and didn't have the energy to mock her for the childlike fear or her disheveled look. He had hoped she would have left after he returned the lighter, but the girl took a cigar out of his pack as well and was now smoking besides him in an odd, but comforting silence. If he was completely honest with himself, he hadn't wanted to be alone, not after Neil's outburst and the pain in his ribs, but he had nowhere to run to, no friends to confide in and no one to tell him it will all be over soon, he just had to finish high-school. One more fucking year! In Cali at least he had his surfing and some 'friends' he could always count on to drink the pain away with without having to explain himself.

He eyed the girl again, trying to get his mind off of his home life. What was her deal? And more importantly, was she wearing no pants? His eyes trailed her exposed legs. They were barely visible in the moonlight, but the nasty looking burn mark on her thigh was standing out like a sore thumb. He had hoped he would have seen her in school, but Tommy H and Carol knew of no one with her description. It didn't help that he didn't even know her damn name. His brows furrowed, who was this stranger sitting in his car?

"Are you ever going to tell me your name?"

"Ask me nicely and maybe I will."

"It's only fair, you know mine."

"Ah, you're no fun..."

"I'm plenty of fun!"

"I bet you are." It was a half mock, half praise, the little smirk on her lips as she blew the smoke away as sinful as the glint in her eyes when she winked. It brought out his more flirtatious nature, the momentary anger turning into lust.

"Fine, don't tell me, doll." She scoffed, something between surprise and irritation, but she kept the playful demeanor, the smile never leaving her lips.

"Do I look like a doll to you?"

"It's all I got if you're not giving me your name." He raised his shoulders, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk. He was quite proud of the nickname he gave the mystery girl. "Besides, it's on your registration plate, doll." He used it again, in hopes he'd make her give up her name. But the effect had been nothing of the sorts, her eves lighting up with mischief, eyebrows raised. He felt like she was in on some joke he had no clue about.

"Ah, so with just one 'L'?"

"Does it matter? It sounds all the same."

"But it doesn't mean the same!" She turned in her seat to fully face him, one leg carefully tucked beneath her. His eyes were drawn again to that burn mark, but her gleeful voice brought his attention back to her face. "Dol, D-O-L, is a unit measurement for pain. They use these instruments, dolorimeters - I know, funny name - to find out a person's pain sensitivity level when they apply steady pressure, or heat, or electrical stimulation to some areas of the body. Or even when they pop out a joint or break a bone. Crazy what scientist are doing these days."

Billy blinked a few times, slowly making sense of her word vomit. What the actual fuck? What kind of teenager knew these kind of things? And more importantly who on earth was so into it? He grimaced when his thoughts took him back to his father. Neil would have a field day with one of those dolori-something pain inducing instruments.

"You're weird."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She gave him a shit eating grin and for a moment he thought she was just messing with him. It was all an attempt at some lame joke, finding her there in the middle of the night, no pants, alone and flinching every time a sound came from outside the car, talking about torture devices. But her expression softened for a brief moment, the glee completely draining from her eyes before she turned her head to check the trees for what must have been the tenth time since she got in his Camaro. The question formed on his lips before he could decide if he even wanted to know or not.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Probably the same as you." She paused, and for a moment it didn't seem like she was going to continue. When she did though, her voice came out as more of a whisper. "Running away from my problems mostly. Trying to figure out what to do next. Things like that." Billy couldn't stop staring at her. Barely clothed, hair a wet mess. The little scar on her upper lip and burned flesh on her thigh. Skittish, her eyes checking for a threat to jump out of the trees. Was she in some kind of trouble? All he knew about her was the was 'just passing through'. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed the dark rusty spots on her sleeve, the evidence piecing itself together in his head like a tragic puzzle, one he knew so well. Someone had done all that to her.

"So what brought you to Hawkins from beautiful Florida?"

"What brought you here from sunny California?" His initial concern was dimming, the girl's evasive responses getting old and tiring. He was curious, sure, but he wasn't going to pry if she wasn't comfortable to tell him. He knew how crucial it was to hide the truth, to keep it all in, buried as far from the light of day. All it ever brought was pity or judgement, none pleasant to experience.

"You don't give straight answers, do you?" She poked her tongue out at him in a childish manner before turning back to look at the forest. There was just no winning with this girl. He wasn't sure why the next words left his mouth, but he felt the blood boiling in his veins with each syllable, his fingers curling tightly around the steering wheel as if bracing for an impact. "I'm here instead of on a beach, because of my shitty dad and his wonderful new family." That seemed to get her attention though, her head snapping back to him. She seemed to weight her reply carefully, before finally speaking.

"I'm just passing through. Might actually leave sooner than expected…" He was surprised she changed the subject. Most people would have asked him to elaborate or worse, insist his life couldn't be so bad, give a motivational, positivity dripping monlogue, as if they knew anything about him. But she brought the discussion back to her and it kept his mind off the fact that sooner or later he had to head back to his own home, if he could even call it that anymore. Maybe Neil, Susan and Max would all be happier if he just… disappeared, packed up a bag and head out into the world.

"Going back home?"

"Don't actually have a home, I guess." His brows furrowed, jaw clenching slightly. Again with the evasive half answers. How could she not have a home? Was she an orphan? But even so, she would have been put in the system. Had she ran away? Was it like his 'home', a place where he went to sleep and eat, but with little else of the qualities usually attached to the word?

Sandy watched him as the frown took over his pretty boy face. She could see the cogs working in his brain trying to piece together the meaning and implication of her last sentence, and perhaps even preparing to bombard her with questions. But how could she ever explain she was born in a lab and raised by a crazy scientist who made her torture people for information? And what was it with his sudden interest in her non existent home? She turned to look at him straight in the eyes for the first time that night. She stared long and hard into his blues and reached with her mind and felt the pain he was hiding just beneath the surface. Her eyes fell to his torso, hand sticking out to graze the tender spot hidden by his shirt. He flinched, but she knew the pain never hit him from that little touch, nor when she flung her leg over unceremoniously to straddle him. Good thing she forgot to put on pants when she left.

"You want to talk shitty pasts or fuck till we forget our problems? Dealers choice." But she already knew the answer, his hands burning on her cold skin, trailing up her thighs. If she surprised him with her sudden move, he didn't show it. Perhaps he didn't really care, her desperate need for a distraction mirrored by his own. Meaningless sex was always a great way to keep our mind off pressing matters. He seemed to know that well, perhaps they were not so different.

Their lips met in a furry, neither sure who closed the space between them first and neither caring. They kissed, hard and desperate, just like she liked it, the sheer force leaving her lips throbbing. Sandy's hands puled his shirt out of his jeans hasty, the need to feel his skin against hers paramount to her very existence and broke the kiss for the briefest moment as it came over his head. Had it really been that long since she'd been with anybody? She couldn't remember, not with Billy's hands squeegeeing her ass and pulling her closer to him, grinding up towards her. She wasted little time, taking off her own shirt, the size of it allowing her to leave to buttoned up, before bringing her mouth back to his, her hands snaking around his neck and chests pressed together. His hands roamed on her back, fingertips digging in her skin, occasionally stopping to feel the length of a scar or another.

He was so wonderfully warm she melted into him, moaning into the kiss as she slowly started grinding into him. She felt him smirking, lips never parting further than to allow him to leave a trail of soppy kisses on her jawline and down her neck. One of his hands wound tight in the hair at the base of her neck, as his teeth sunk in the flesh just beside her pulse and Sand found herself smiling.

"Shit, stop with the teasing!" But he said nothing, only letting out a huff of acknowledgement, his plump lips still attached to that sweet spot where the neck met the shoulder. His other hand, once done with exploring, found one of her breasts. She let out a straggled moan, the air caught in her throat. She was dizzy, his warmth seeping into her her, intoxicating like a new drug. And to think he'd barely touched her. She wet her lower lip with her tongue, the thought of what was to come maddening. In her drunken state she almost begged. Almost. Two could play that game and she wasn't know to be fair.

The button and zipper of his jeans flew open before he realized. Billy gasped when her hand pressed none too gently over his dick, rubbing it through the soft fabric of his boxers. A part of him relished in the small pleasures of teasing her raw. The other part made him lift his hips when she struggled to push his jeans and boxers aside. His head flew backwards hitting the headrest as her fingers wrapped tightly around his freed cock, thumb pressing into the tip to smudge some of the precum. She pumped him with a steady, merciless grip, but it was her expression that made him give in, eyes dark with lust and a grin that knew she was going to get exactly what she wanted out of him.

He gripped her wrist and pinned it to her lower back while his other hand pushed her black panties aside, not bothering to fully take them off. She lifted herself just enough, shuddering when his fingers made a straight line from her collarbone all the way between her folds. Her hands resting on his shoulders for support. She was dripping wet, not that he was surprised. He slipped into her fast with one powerful thrust, sheeting his dick completely. She arched her back with a lewd moan, like a coil falling back to place. Billy rested his forehead above her breast, the heat and tightness of her pussy making his head spin.

"Fuck."

"Me." Her breath was hot on his ear, the hairs on his neck standing. "Hard!" She needn't say it twice. Both his hands found her waist to guide her, but the vixen knew what she was doing, her body undulating in time with his violent thrusts. He found he couldn't quite take his eyes off of her, the moonlight emphasizing all the right places. The curve of her neck as her head lolled back, lips parted, the little scar almost invisible if he didn't already know where to look. Her breasts bouncing in a hypnotic rhythm, nipples perky as they occasionally grazed his chest in the cramped space. And that sweet mage of his cock disappearing into her, her vulgar moans and slapping skin the only sounds filling the car.

Sandy tried to keep her eyes open, the image of Billy's taunt muscles and fully blown eyes imprinted on her retinas, but failed miserably when his fingers wrapped around her neck. She relished in the feelings instead, her skin tingling wherever his caressed, fondled or dug into. She cursed his jeans for only being lowered to his thighs, precious territory left unexplored. The steering wheel was pressing hard into her back, the ache in perfect contrast to the pleasure shooting up from between her thighs as Billy rammed into her viciously. She came hard, pure bliss passing through her in wave after wave making her quiver uncontrollably. Strong arms encased around her, grounding her in reality, as he somehow picked up the pace, his rhythm erratic. He spilled into her while she was still coming down her high, his head buried into the crook of her neck. They stood there for a moment longer, breaths ragged and bodies slick with sweat, her fingers twisting his damp hair around.

Sandy was the first to speak.

"Well hot damn, should have jumped you in that paring lot." He chuckled against her skin, the vibrations pleasant to her still sensitive body.

"Took the words right out of my mouth, doll." The corners of her mouth twisted into a sly smile and she untangled herself from him, his hands lingering on her until the last second. She regarded the completely fogged windows as she found her shirt and put it back on, but she couldn't bring herself to worry about the world outside that Camaro. Not yet at lest. She turned toward him, his almost sheepish expression endearing.

"I'll be in town for a coupe more days. Motel 6, room 13. Don't be a stranger." She pushed the door open and stepped into to cool night air, but passed him a final wink before getting into her own car. "Oh and, you can call me Sandy."

#stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #love at first sting #torment never looked so goddamn fine #fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction

51 notes · View notes