#and it's clocking in at around 8k

[hoshifighting]

I can do it for you

Synopsis: After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Smut, fantasy, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving), g'spot stimulation, overstimulation, oversensitivity, sex fluids and... HOUSEWIFE MINGYU?!

You've always been one of those independent souls since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. Nobody had to tell you how to tie your shoes or pour your own cereal; you were on it like a hawk on a mouse. That's just how you rolled.

Every morning, without fail, the alarm clock would screech you awake. You'd drag yourself out of bed, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, but ready to tackle whatever the day threw at you. Bleary-eyed, you'd stumble out of bed, wishing for just a few more minutes of shut-eye.

Then it was off into the madhouse of morning traffic. Cars honking, people yelling—it was like a scene straight out of a circus. One hand massaging your temple, while the other holds the wheel, again, what would be the excuse about being late for your supervisee?

Once you strutted into the office, it was game time. Arms loaded up with documents, and the sound of your heels echoing through the corridors until you plopped down at your desk. Your boss, with his constant nitpicking, was like a pesky mosquito buzzing around your head, while you practically sizzled your fingertips on the keyboard.

As the end of the month drew near, it was like a race against the clock in the department. Everyone was scrambling to wrap up their projects, racing against time like sprinters gunning for the finish line. The hours seemed to slip through their fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass.

Phones were ringing off the hook, papers were flying left and right, and the clickety-clack of keyboards filled the air like a drumbeat. It was a whirlwind of activity, with no time to spare for even a quick breather.

As you finally left the building, the thought of tackling the grocery store was the furthest thing from your mind. Rush hour was in full swing, and the last thing you wanted was to spend a few more hours stuck in traffic. 

With a sigh of exhaustion, you let your purse plop onto the couch, and you dashed towards the bathroom, craving the comfort of a hot shower to wash away the day's stress. But as soon as you twisted the knob to turn on the water, you were met with a disappointing blast of icy coldness. Great, just what you needed—a malfunctioning shower.

You knew the drill all too well. The resistance had probably burned out again, leaving you with no choice but to endure a bone-chilling cold shower. Normally, you'd roll up your sleeves and tackle the problem head-on, but right now, the thought of dealing with it was more than you could bear.

So, with a resigned shrug, you decided to tough it out. A cold shower was better than no shower at all, and besides, you were too tired to bother with fixing it tonight. As you stepped under the frigid stream of water, you couldn't help but curse your luck.

With some unexpected free time on your hands, you found yourself rummaging through the forgotten stuff tucked away in the drawer beneath the TV. Dust bunnies greeted you as you pulled out various items—a picture frame with a photo of your graduation, a stack of letters from high school friends, old books with worn covers, and... 

You blinked in surprise as you pulled out what appeared to be a wishbook. Memories flooded back to you as you flipped through its pages, the corners dog-eared and the edges frayed from years of neglect. You vaguely remembered creating this in middle school, jotting down your hopes and dreams for your adult life.

You couldn't help but be taken aback as you glanced through the pages of the wishbook, tracing your finger over each childhood dream that had somehow become a reality.

"When I grow up, I want to drive a red car." You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the day you drove off the lot in that sleek red beauty, feeling like the queen of the road.

"When I grow up, I want to work at my dream job." It hadn't been an easy journey, filled with ups and downs and more than a few setbacks along the way. But through sheer grit and determination, you had landed your dream job, doing what you loved day in and day out.

"When I grow up, I want to have my own apartment." Well, here you were, sitting in your very own slice of paradise. Sure, it might not be the biggest or the fanciest place in town, but it was yours. And that was all that mattered.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity as you gazed at the blank pages at the end of the wishbook. What if you wrote something new? Something unexpected, something you hadn't even considered before?

With a sudden impulse, you grabbed your phone and dialed up your friend. After a few rings, she answered, her voice laced with amusement.

"Hey there, what's up?" she chirped.

"Hey," you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your tone. "I was just thinking... what do you think I've been needing in my life?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before your friend burst into laughter. "Oh, that's easy," she said between giggles. "You need a boyfriend!"

You couldn't help but frown at her response. "Really? Out of all the things in the world, a boyfriend?"

She chuckled, sensing your skepticism. "Okay Y/N, maybe not a boyfriend exactly," she conceded, "but someone to take care of you. You're always the one taking care of everything that falls into your hands. Have you ever thought about taking a break? Having someone to do it for you for once?"

Her words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of recognition. She was right—you were constantly taking care of everyone and everything around you, but who was taking care of you?

You chuckled to yourself as you scribbled down the traits you wanted in a potential boyfriend, feeling a bit silly but also oddly excited at the prospect. As the hours ticked by, you found yourself lost in thought, lost in the whimsical world of daydreams and possibilities.

"A guy who is proactive, kind, maybe a little bit clingy?" you mused aloud, tapping the pen against your chin. "Someone who knows their way around the kitchen... As you continued to brainstorm, you found yourself getting a bit carried away. "Good-looking and tall, with long hair and puppy-dog eyes"

The more you wrote, the more absurdly perfect your imaginary boyfriend became. It was almost like describing a prince straight out of a fairy tale, complete with all the clichéd traits and characteristics.

As you looked over the words you had written in the wishbook, a wave of doubt washed over you. You couldn't help but cringe at the seemingly unrealistic expectations you had set for yourself. Closing the wishbook with a sigh, you tossed it onto the center table, feeling a pang of disappointment.

"It was just a coincidence," you muttered to yourself, trying to rationalize away the strange alignment of your childhood dreams with your current reality. It seemed too far-fetched to believe that your wishes had somehow come true.

With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom, longing for the solace of sleep to sweep you away from the uncertainty of the day. Maybe it was time to let go of the notion that wishes could come true and focus on the here and now.

And there it was, like a cruel joke, that goddamn alarm blaring in your ear, dragging you kicking and screaming out of the sweet embrace of sleep. With a groan of frustration, you stumbled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, bracing yourself for another shitty, cold-ass shower.

The water hit you like a slap in the face as you hurriedly scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. No time for luxuriating in a warm bath, oh no, not in your world.

After hastily toweling off, you raced around the house like a madman, searching for that elusive perfect piece to complete your look. But in the end, it was all just chaos, a jumbled mess of clothes and accessories that left you feeling more frazzled than ever.

As you stormed out the door and into the chaos of the morning rush hour, you couldn't help but curse under your breath at the sea of cars stretched out before you. It was like a never-ending nightmare, a never-ending parade of honking horns and exhaust fumes.

And then there was your boss, with his never-ending stream of shit, nitpicking every little thing you did like a goddamn broken record. You plastered on a fake smile and nodded along, all the while seething with rage on the inside.

You trudged wearily from the elevator, each step sending shooting pains through your feet courtesy of those godforsaken heels. The keys jangled in your hand as you finally reached your apartment door, the promise of relief beckoning you inside.

With a sigh of relief, you swung open the door and kicked off your heels, reveling in the cool touch of the floor against your bare feet. But as you stepped further into the apartment, something felt off.

The air was thick with the scent of food, and a faint hum drifted through the air. Panic surged through you as you realized that someone had invaded your sanctuary.

Heart pounding, you tiptoed through the apartment, checking every nook and cranny for signs of an intruder. But each room you entered was empty, the only sound the echo of your own footsteps.

Finally, you reached the kitchen, and there he was—a tall figure standing at the stove, his back to you as he hummed a tune under his breath. It took a moment for the shock to register, but when it did, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through you.

"Who the hell are you?" you demanded, your voice sharp with disbelief and anger as you confronted the intruder. The guy nearly jumped out of his skin, and you flinched together.

"What are you doing here? Leave!" you insisted, your heart pounding in your chest as you pointed the kitchen utensil in his direction.

The intruder hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice trembling slightly. "I-I'm Mingyu," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear.

You scoffed, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not enough to ease your suspicion. "Mingyu? Who the fuck is Mingyu?" you snapped, your anger boiling over.

But then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Mingyu... the random name you had created for the boyfriend in your wishbook, the one you had jokingly listed out the qualities you wanted in a partner.

Your laughter was hollow and bitter as you realized the absurdity of the situation. "Are you kidding me?" you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm calling the police."

But before you could reach for the phone, the intruder lunged forward, grabbing the wishbook from the center table. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice.

You watched in confusion as he flipped through the pages, his eyes widening in shock as he read the list of qualities you had written down. 

You eyed the wishbook with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension as the intruder waved it in front of you, his excitement palpable. Every detail you had written down seemed to describe him perfectly—tall, with puppy-dog eyes, and even the long hair. It was uncanny.

But despite the strange coincidence, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Keeping your distance, you raised the pan threateningly, the question burning on your lips. "How did you get into my house?" you demanded, your voice sharp with suspicion.

The intruder's eyes widened in alarm, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I just woke up on the couch, I swear."

Your heart raced as you processed his words. He didn't seem to be lying, but the situation was just too bizarre to comprehend. How could someone just magically appear in your home, especially someone who seemed to fit the description of your fictional boyfriend?

With a wary glance, you slowly lowered the pan, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. "Well, you better start explaining," you muttered, your mind racing with a million different possibilities.

You paced back and forth in front of the couch, your mind spinning with disbelief as you tried to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before you. "So you're telling me that I manifested you by my wishbook?" you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The intruder nodded solemnly, reaching for the wishbook and flipping it over to reveal a small gold star etched into the back cover. "See this?" he said, pointing to the star. "This is a manifestation charm. It's what brought me here."

Your frown deepened as you studied the tiny symbol, your mind struggling to comprehend the bizarre turn of events. "But... how?" you muttered, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.

The intruder's eyes widened with curiosity as he looked up at you. "Where did you get this book?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

You racked your brain, trying to recall where you had acquired the wishbook all those years ago. And then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. "A mystique store," you blurted out, the memories flooding back in a rush. "I bought it from a mystique store years ago."

You sank onto the couch beside him, the weight of the revelation settling over you like a heavy blanket. It was hard to wrap your head around the idea that a simple book could hold such mysterious powers.

You turned to the intruder, your curiosity piqued as you sought answers to the questions burning in your mind. "Where did you come from?" you asked, your voice laced with both apprehension and fascination.

The intruder hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away as if he were wrestling with his response. "I... I don't know," he admitted finally, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's all a bit... fuzzy."

You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering how someone could not know their own age or origins. "What do you mean, fuzzy?" you pressed, your curiosity growing by the second.

The intruder sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I woke up on your couch with no memory of how I got here or where I came from," he explained, his expression troubled. "All I know is that I felt drawn to you somehow, like I was meant to find you."

"You didn't have a life before?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief as you looked at the intruder sitting beside you.

He nodded solemnly, his expression tinged with sadness. "Yes, I did. But it's all... blurry, like a dream that I can't quite remember."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Where did you live before?" you pressed, your curiosity getting the better of you.

The intruder's gaze drifted towards the window, his hands gesturing vaguely in front of him. "Somewhere like this," he murmured, his voice distant. 

You followed his gaze, staring out at the endless expanse of buildings and lights stretching out before you. It was a sight you had grown accustomed to over the years, but seeing it through the eyes of someone who had never experienced it before brought a strange sense of wonder.

"And now?" you prompted, turning back to the intruder beside you.

He shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, I'm here," he replied simply, his eyes meeting yours with hope.

You blinked in surprise as the intruder broke the silence, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I fixed the shower," he announced, a hint of pride in his voice.

You widened your eyebrows, your mind struggling to process his words. "You... fixed the shower?" you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The intruder nodded eagerly, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, it was just a small problem with the resistance. I managed to sort it out," he explained, his tone casual as if he hadn't just performed a miracle.

You couldn't help but stare at him in astonishment, your mind racing with a million questions. How had he known there was a problem with the shower? And more importantly, how had he fixed it so quickly?

But before you could voice your thoughts, he continued, "Oh, and I went to the supermarket and washed your clothes too."

Your jaw practically hit the floor as his words sank in. "You... went to the supermarket?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

The intruder nodded, his smile widening at your stunned expression. "Yep, got everything on your list. And the laundry was piling up, so I took care of that too," he said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You were at a loss for words, your mind reeling with the sheer absurdity of the situation. This man, this stranger who had magically appeared in your living room, had taken it upon himself to fix your shower, do your grocery shopping, and even wash your clothes—all without being asked.

"But... why?" you finally managed to sputter out, your voice tinged with confusion.

The intruder shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Why not?" he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Come here," he beckoned, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you trailed after him, unsure of what to expect.

As he lifted the lid of the pan on the stove, a delicious aroma wafted up, making your mouth water. "Wow," you murmured, impressed by the sight of the freshly cooked food before you. "You cooked all of this?"

He nodded proudly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, thought I'd whip up a little something for us to eat," he replied, gesturing towards the table where two plates were already set.

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, grateful for the unexpected gesture. But then your eyes drifted to the clothesline in the corner of the room, where an array of freshly washed clothing hung neatly.

"Oh my god," you gasped, your hand flying to cover your face in embarrassment. "You washed everything?"

The intruder followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the recently laundered garments with a hint of amusement. "Yep, everything," he confirmed, his tone light and playful.

Your cheeks flushed crimson as you realized just how intimate some of the items hanging on the line were. "I... uh..." you stammered, at a loss for words.

He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Hey, I gotta say, those puppy-stamped underwear of yours are pretty cute," he teased, a playful glint in his eye.

You buried your face in your hands, the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. "Oh my god, stop," you groaned, mortified by the unexpected turn of events.

[...]

As you emerged from the warmth of the bath, wrapped snugly in your pajamas, you found Mingyu already fast asleep on the couch, curled up into a small ball. Despite the strangeness of the situation, a pang of sympathy tugged at your heartstrings as you watched him sleep.

You couldn't deny that he looked rather adorable, all shrunken and peaceful in his slumber. If you had asked for a short man in your wishbook, he certainly fit the couch.

But as you glanced at your bed, you knew that letting him sleep there was out of the question. He may have magically appeared in your life, but he was still a stranger, and you weren't about to let your guard down just yet.

Sure, you could kick him out onto the cold streets, but the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. You weren't heartless, after all, and it was clear that he didn't have a place to go. He hadn't asked to be here, and the circumstances of his arrival were still shrouded in mystery.

But as you glanced at him sleeping peacefully, his features softened in the glow of the moonlight, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of responsibility towards him. After all, he was just as much a victim of whatever strange forces had brought him here as you were.

With a sigh, you resigned yourself to the fact that he would have to stay—for now, at least. You could figure out the details in the morning, once the shock of the day had worn off and your mind was clearer.

As you stirred awake to the aroma of freshly brewed coffeee, you nearly jumped out of your skin before remembering that Mingyu was there. With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

As you got ready for work, the thought of facing another chaotic day loomed over you like a dark cloud. But as you emerged into the living room, the sight of a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you on the table brought a small smile to your face.

You took a tentative sip, and It was so good that you couldn't help but shake off the idea of going to the coffee shop today.

"Mingyu, I'm leaving," you announced, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door. "I'll be back at 7pm. Do you need anything?"

Just as you were about to step out, Mingyu appeared in the living room, a packed lunch in his hands. "Here," he said, offering you the lunchbox. "Eat well, and I'll be waiting for you."

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, but as your eyes fell on him, clad in one of your shirts from a rock band, you couldn't suppress a laugh. The shirt was stretched to its limits, barely covering his tummy while his biceps threatened to tear through the fabric.

"Okay, I'm definitely going to buy you some clothes," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can't I walk without them?" he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

You widened your eyes in mock horror. "Of course not!" you exclaimed, feigning shock. "You can't just walk naked on the street!"

Mingyu tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't I?" he countered, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, you definitely can't," you replied with a chuckle. "Now, behave yourself while I'm gone, okay?"

Mingyu nodded solemnly, his smile widening. "I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

As you sat down to eat your lunch at work, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from your coworkers. They watched you with envious eyes as you savored each bite of the delicious meal that Mingyu had prepared for you.

Suppressing a smile, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Mingyu for his thoughtfulness. Despite the strange circumstances of his arrival, he had gone out of his way to make sure you were well-fed and taken care of.

As you enjoyed the flavors of the homemade meal, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about Mingyu's character and the bond that was beginning to form between the two of you.

As the evening rolled around and you left work, you were determined to fulfill your promise to yourself and Mingyu. You headed to the shopping district, the image of Mingyu looking like a doll lingering in your mind.

You browsed through the racks of clothing, selecting pieces that you thought would suit him perfectly. It was a strange feeling, shopping for someone else with such care and attention, but with each item you picked out, you couldn't help but imagine how handsome Mingyu would look in them.

You found yourself spending more on clothing for Mingyu than you did for yourself, but you didn't mind in the slightest. After all, he was the one who needed them the most, and you were determined to make sure he looked his best.

With each new outfit you selected, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. This was your chance to dress Mingyu exactly how you had imagined your dream boyfriend to be, and you were going to make sure he looked absolutely perfect.

You arrived home to find Mingyu sitting on the couch, your wishbook in his hands. As you entered, he quickly put the book aside and rose to help you with the heavy bags of clothing.

"You didn't need to buy all of these," he said, his expression turning slightly sullen as he glanced at the bags.

You brushed off his concern with a wave of your hand, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It's fine, Mingyu," you reassured him. "I have a good salary now, and it's nice to be able to buy things for someone else, not just for myself."

As you settled onto the couch, Mingyu's gaze lingered on the bags of clothing beside you. There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he were eager to see what you had bought.

Mingyu removed his shirt as you sat on the couch, unpacking the bags of clothing around you. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his form, admiring the way the fabric of his jeans clung to his legs and the muscles rippled beneath his skin.

Noticing your gaze, Mingyu chuckled softly. "Like what you see?" he teased, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You blushed slightly, feeling caught off guard by his remark. "Um, I was just admiring the clothes," you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, how about I model them for you?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion, the tension melting away as you relaxed into the playful banter. "Like a parade?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Mingyu nodded eagerly, already reaching for one of the bags. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his excitement contagious.

As he began to try on the new clothes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. It was like watching a fashion show, with Mingyu as the star of the runway.

With each new outfit he tried on, you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he pulled off each look. From casual jeans and a t-shirt to a sleek button-down shirt, he looked absolutely stunning in everything he wore.

s you walked towards him with the silver chain in hand, Mingyu watched you with a curious expression, his eyes following your every move. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you approached, a strange tension building between the two of you.

With a slight frown of concentration, you struggled to fasten the chain around his neck, your fingers fumbling with the clasp as you tried to maneuver it into place. Mingyu stood patiently, his eyes fixed on you as you teetered on the tips of your toes, trying to reach him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to secure the chain around his neck, the silver gleaming against his dark shirt. As you took a step back, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. It was the closest you had ever been to Mingyu since he appeared in your life.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you met Mingyu's gaze with a shy smile. "There you go," 

Mingyu glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting the silver chain around his neck before walking over to you with a grateful smile.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth and sincerity. "You didn't have to do all this for me."

You returned his smile, shaking your head. "It's the least I could do," you replied, your tone light. "After all, you didn't exactly ask to be summoned," you added, making air quotes with your fingers for emphasis.

Mingyu chuckled, the sound warm and melodious. "I suppose you have a point there," he conceded, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'm certainly not complaining about it."

"Hmm, Mingyu, do you want to hang out?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Mingyu frowned slightly, looking at you with curiosity. "Where?" he inquired, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of showing Mingyu a good time. "Just wait here, I'll get ready," you replied, hurrying off to your room to change.

It was Friday night, and you were used to spending it with your friends, going out and having a good time. And what better way to show Mingyu a bit of the city than to take him out with you?

You turned around to find Mingyu standing in your bedroom, his eyes lingering on your black dress and the silver chain adorning your neck. His gaze was filled with curiosity as he took in your appearance.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his eyes. "Well, what do you think?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Are we matching tonight?" he teased, gesturing to his own black shirt and jeans.

You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful banter. "I guess we are," you replied, a smile dancing in your eyes. 

Mingyu's eyes softened, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "You look beautiful," he said softly, his words filled with sincerity.

A blush crept up your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at his words. "Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you entered the bustling club with Mingyu by your side, the loud music and flashing lights engulfed you both. Mingyu seemed to take it all in stride, moving through the crowd with an ease that suggested he was no stranger to such environments.

You couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed at him as you made your way to the bar. Tall, charismatic, and undeniably handsome, Mingyu certainly attracted attention wherever he went. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you had such a captivating companion by your side.

Taking a seat at the bar, you turned to Mingyu with a smile. "What'll it be?" you asked, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the music.

Mingyu glanced at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Surprise me," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement.

You grinned, turning to the bartender to place your order, as you waited for your drinks to arrive.

As Mingyu glanced around the crowded club, his eyes filled with curiosity, he turned to you with a thoughtful expression.

"Hey, do boyfriend and girlfriend usually come to places like this?" he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.

You paused for a moment, considering his question carefully. Did Mingyu see the two of you as boyfriend and girlfriend? The thought sent a flutter of excitement through you, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions.

"Well, sometimes," you replied, choosing your words carefully. "Couples come here to have fun and let loose together."

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on yours. "So, are we... like that?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the possibility of being more than just friends with Mingyu sending a thrill through you. But you didn't want to assume anything without knowing how he felt.

"I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "What do you think?"

"Well, you wrote in your wishbook that you wanted a boyfriend," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Your eyes widened in surprise, realization dawning on you. "Oh, right," you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice. "I guess I did, didn't I?"

Mingyu shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I guess I just wanted to understand," he admitted. "To see if... if maybe I could be that person for you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "I suppose you are," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought.

After a moment of silence, you couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind. "Am I even your type?" you blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

Mingyu's eyes traveled over you, his gaze intense as he took in your appearance. He seemed to be studying you, his expression unreadable.

You held your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect. The tension between you was palpable, as you waited for Mingyu's answer.

He bit his lip, a gesture that sent a wave of heat coursing through you. "You're exactly my type…" he replied, his voice husky.

"Is that so?" you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "Well, you'll have to work harder than that to win me over."

Mingyu chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I plan to," he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "After all, I'm everything you wanted, right?"

You couldn't help but shake your head at his boldness, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of what the night might hold.

"Maybe," you replied with a grin, unable to resist the playful banter. "But I'll believe it when I see it."

Mingyu leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered softly, sending shivers down your spine. "I read the last pages of your wishbook," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "And let me tell you, I can definitely make all your wildest dreams come true."

And in minutes, everything happened. 

You found yourself naked on your couch, your body laid bare before Mingyu, who gazed at you with desire in his eyes. Your legs were spread wide, draped over his shoulders as he knelt before you, his hands trailing over your skin with a gentle touch.

As you held your wish book in your hand, Mingyu's voice broke through the silence, his tone teasing yet filled with curiosity. "So, what's your first wish?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you at the thought of revealing your innermost desires. But with Mingyu's gaze burning into you, you couldn't hold back.

"I... I wished for a guy who could make me cum on his tongue," you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu's eyes darkened with desire at your words, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

As Mingyu's tongue licked a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, a shiver of pleasure shot through your body, leaving you trembling. You gripped the wish book tightly in one hand, your nails digging into the pages as Mingyu's mouth worked its magic on you. "Oh fuck, Mingyu!" 

With each flick of his tongue against your clit, you felt yourself unraveling. His arms wrapped around you, holding you steady as you writhed and moaned, unable to control the flood of pleasure coursing through you.

Your other hand tangled in Mingyu's locks, pulling him closer as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue swirled around your bud, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves.

You moaned his name over and over, the sound filling the air as Mingyu's tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge. You felt yourself dripping with arousal, the combination of Mingyu's saliva and your own juices coating the couch beneath you.

As Mingyu's tongue penetrated slightly into your pussy, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. You looked at him with wide eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to form coherent words.

"What... what are you doing?" you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.

But before you could even finish your question, Mingyu's tongue penetrated you again, sending a shock shooting through your body. Your legs shook on his arms, your whole body trembling with need.

"Oh Mingyu, that feels so good" you moaned, your voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue, his movements becoming faster. He sucked on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before diving deep inside you once again, driving you to the brink of orgasm with each tantalizing stroke.

As you held onto Mingyu's locks tighter, he moaned in response, the vibrations sending a surge of pleasure on your pussy. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, your body trembling with anticipation.

"I'm... I'm cumming," you gasped, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your release.

Mingyu looked up at you, his eyes dark as he asked, "Are you going to cum on my tongue, just like you wished for?"

You nodded desperately, your whole body tensing with anticipation as you felt the waves of pleasure building inside you. The wishbook slipped from your grasp, completely forgotten as Mingyu's tongue continued to lap your clit.

"Yes," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, just like that."

And with a final flick of his tongue against your clit, Mingyu pushed you over the edge, making you come undone, riding his face to ride your orgasm, your mind clouded with the intensity of your orgasm.

As Mingyu got up, holding the forgotten wishbook in his hands, he turned to you with a curious expression. "Let's see what your next wish is," he said, his voice tinged with excitement.

Your hands, still trembling from the recent orgasm, reached out to take the wishbook from him. You flipped through the pages until you found the next wish, your heart racing with anticipation.

And as you read the words on the page, your cheeks flushed with heat at the explicit nature of the wish. It was about a guy who didn't go easy on you, who took control and pushed you to your limits.

You looked up at Mingyu, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and apprehension. "Is... is this something you can do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he met your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. "I can do whatever you want," he replied, his voice low and husky.

As Mingyu lowered his pants, revealing his big, throbbing cock, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with apprehension. It was something you had written in your wishbook - a cock that fulfills you - but you hadn't expected it to be quite so... big.

His cock laid heavy in his hand as he stroked himself, the slick sound of precum making itself known with each movement. You felt your cheeks flush red as you watched, a mix of desire and uncertainty swirling within you.

"It... it won't fit," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Mingyu's gaze.

Mingyu chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "Don't worry," he reassured you, his voice husky with desire. "I'll make it fit."

As Mingyu laid you down comfortably, spreading you wider, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and embarrassment wash over you. His cock slid against your pussy, teasing but not yet penetrating, and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself growing wetter with anticipation.

You almost covered your face in shame, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. But Mingyu's teasing words only served to fuel the fire burning within you.

"That's all you wanted, isn't it?" he teased, his voice laced with desire as he looked into your eyes. "A guy with a big cock to fuck your brains out? Well, lucky for you, I'm here, hm?"

His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn't help but arch your hips, silently urging him to take you. You wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside you, filling you completely and making you cum. 

As Mingyu continued to tease you, his words sending shivers of desire down your spine, he remarked on your hectic work schedule. "You work so hard," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You need someone to take all that stress out of you."

His words hit home, resonating with the part of you that longed for release, both physically and emotionally. You couldn't deny the truth in his words; after all, you had spent so long shouldering the weight of your responsibilities alone.

As Mingyu's cock teased against your clit, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Every movement, every touch drove you closer and closer to the brink, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

And just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when you felt yourself on the verge of exploding with pleasure, Mingyu slammed his hard cock inside of your cunt with a force that took your breath away. Your pussy stretched around him, so tight and so full, that you could barely contain the overwhelming sensation.

As you arched your back in pleasure, the sensation of Mingyu's cock buried deep inside you driving you to new heights of ecstasy, he teased you mercilessly. "I'm still," he murmured between moans, his voice laced with desire. "You're almost cumming."

His words sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your pussy clenching around him with each tantalizing movement. Mingyu's cock felt impossibly hard and thick inside you, stretching you to your limits as he held himself still, savoring the exquisite torture of denying you release.

He put your knees on your chest and started pounding inside of you, hitting that spongy spot dead-on with the first thrust. You screamed in your living room, rolling your eyes back in sheer ecstasy.

No mercy, just like you wanted.

Mingyu looked at your pleasured face, making sure he was hitting all the right spots to drive you wild. And judging by the way you were moaning and writhing beneath him, he was definitely doing something right.

"You're so wet for me," his voice dripped with lust. "You can't get enough of my cock, can you? You want me to fuck you harder, don't you?"

You nodded eagerly, unable to form words as pleasure washed over you in waves.

As Mingyu pounded into you harder, your body tensed, your abdomen trembling with anticipation as you felt the orgasm approaching. He bit his lip, holding back his moans as your walls spasmed around him, indicating your impending climax.

You gripped the couch tightly, your nails digging into the fabric as pleasure washed over you in waves. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to relieve the overwhelming sensation building inside you.

And then it hit you, like a tidal wave crashing over you with unstoppable force. You came, hard and fast, your orgasm ripping through you as you spasmed uncontrollably beneath Mingyu.

You came on him, on the couch, on his cock, unable to contain the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. And as Mingyu watched you cumming in a matter of minutes, a proud moan escaped his lips, his eyes filled with satisfaction at having brought you so much pleasure.

As Mingyu held your legs to the sides, spreading you open and angling his cock in a way that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, you squirmed helplessly beneath him. Every movement sent jolts of oversensitivity coursing through your body, and you cried out in pleasure and desperation.

But Mingyu held firm, his gaze locked with yours as he reminded you of your wish for him not to take it easy on you. "You wanted this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You wanted me to push you to your limits."

You whimpered in response, the sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit driving you to the brink of insanity. "I can't take it," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't take it anymore."

But Mingyu only moaned in response, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm as he continued to tease and torment you. "You'll need to take it," he whispered, his voice sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

"Just a little more," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "I'm almost there, baby. Just hold on for me."

As you held Mingyu's neck, drawing him closer to you for another kiss, you found yourself lost in the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours. But with each moan that escaped your lips, it became increasingly difficult to maintain the kiss, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Mingyu noticed your struggle, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe beneath him. His face contorted in pleasure, mirroring the ecstasy written all over yours, as your walls pulsed and contracted around him with each thrust.

As you trembled beneath Mingyu, tears slipping from your eyes, he kissed your face gently, his lips tracing a path of comfort and reassurance. "I'm cumming for you," he murmured, his voice soothing and gentle as he tried to calm your racing heart.

But your chest rose and fell in erratic waves, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you closed your eyes tightly, desperate to hold on just a little longer. And then it happened, a silent moan escaping your lips as your body tensed and your pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave of sensation.

You came again, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you gasping for air, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it all. And as Mingyu watched in awe, unable to hold back his own release any longer, he let out a surprised moan of pleasure, his own orgasm crashing over him in a wave of ecstasy.

As Mingyu's warm cum filled your cunt, mingling with your own juices, you let out a contented sigh, feeling completely spent and satisfied. Your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat and cum.

Feeling utterly relaxed, you laid your head back on the couch, letting out a deep breath as you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. The tension in your neck melted away as you finally allowed yourself to relax.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he looked down at you.

You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good," you replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Mingyu leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours as he spoke. "That was... so good," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. "Yeah, me neither," you admitted, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction spread through your body.

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "Who knew that silly wishbook would actually work?" you remarked, shaking your head in disbelief.

Mingyu leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Well, I'm here now, and I don't plan on going anywhere," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

#seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen reactions #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt imagines #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu #svt #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu drabbles #mingyu sub #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu fluff #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu x you #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu x y/n #mingyu angst #mingyu dom

[sannie4luv]

Make You Mine

Pairing: Sugar daddy! Seonghwa x f!reader

Warnings: rough sex, unprotected sex (the crowd boos), oral sex (m&f receiving), degradation, daddy kink, age gap (seonghwas 38 & reader is 23), squirting, seonghwa smokes.

Word count: 8k

Summary: after losing your job money had been tight, you weren’t sure how you were gonna make ends meet. Until your friend suggests something that catches your eye.

Being a camgirl.

-

"Fuck! SHIT!!" You screamed as you jumped out of bed as soon as you saw the digital clock that sat next to your bed, and to your demise. You over slept again. Even after your boss clearly stated that if you were late again you would be fired. "Okay, it's 7:30 and work starts at 8:00, I definitely got this. No sweat at all!"

Except you definitely didn't have it. Even after throwing on your clothes and doing your hair and makeup as quick as you could, you still managed to be 5 minutes late. And your boss Mingi had clearly told you that if you were even a minute late again that you would be fired.

"I thought I told you that next time you were late you would be fired, so tell me Y/N why are you late yet again? And don't give me that "I overslept and my alarm didn't go off bullshit." he says while making quotation marks with his fingers.

Mingi wasn't always like this though, he actually used to be a pretty great boss until he asked you out and you ultimately rejected him. Having not taken the rejection well he was out for blood, and made sure that your work environment was an absolute living hell.

"Please Mingi give me one more chance I promise I won't be late again, I really need this job." You begged and pleaded but alas they fell upon deaf ears. "No Y/N i'm done with you being late all the time so you can kiss your job goodbye. Get out of my office and pack your shit before I have to have security come do it for you. You better be out of this god damn building in 10 minutes." Mingi said with his gritted teeth, clearly he wasn't fucking around this time.

Pretty much scared out of your mind you got up and left his office and headed to your desk to collect your things with tears welling up in your eyes. "Fucking hell Y/N how could you be so reckless and fucking stupid." You whispered to yourself has you collected your belongings from your desk. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, since everyone knew about you rejecting Mingis offer they saw this coming.

After collecting your things you left your office that had been your workplace for the last 6 months and ultimately you were jobless yet again. It wasn't that you weren't good at keeping a job, you did your job very well. It's just you were very unlucky when it came to any job, it seemed like you could never catch a break. Whether it be asshole bosses, harsh work environments, stalker customers, or bitchy receptionists.

At this point you didn't know what to do anymore, because you indefinitely needed a job. Your rent was already high enough even though you had one of the shittiest apartments in Seoul, you were very behind on your bills, and you could barely afford to feed yourself. What the hell were you gonna do now?

So you did what you know best and called up your childhood best friend Yeosang, since he always knew what to do in a situation like this. You took out your phone and dialed his shops number since you figured he didn't have his cell phone on him. "KYS Motors this is Yeosang speaking how may I help you?" Yeosang spoke on the other line. "Yeosangggg it's Y/N" you said with a whiny voice. Yeosang could tell something was up since it sounded like you had just finished crying. "What's up princess? What's wrong?" Yeosang said adding the nickname he always called you ever since you guys were younger. "I just got fired and I don't know what to do, help me please." You said as you walked down the busy streets of Seoul whilst crying into the phone. "Come down to the bike shop, I'll see you when you get here princess." Yeosang said then the call disconnected. You weren't too far from his bike shop but since you had no car or money to take the bus you were resorted to walking everywhere. And walking around with this heavy box that had all your things in it was making your arms tired and the heels on your feet were killing you. "God dammit fuck this stupid ass box and fuck these heels." You said as you went to a near by trash can and tossed the box along with the heels away, there wasn't anything important in the box and the heels were hand me downs from your mother. After this you stomped away angrily down to KYS Motors.

Yeosang heard the door chime as he looked over he noticed your disheveled and barefoot figure. "Hey princess, did you forget to wear shoes this mornin?" Yeosang said with a chuckle. "No you dumbass I was just tired of those heels so I tossed them in the trash on my way over here. But that's not even important right now, I need a fucking job." You said frantically, you didn't wanna straight up ask Yeosang to hire you but you didn't know what else to do. "Are you hinting at you want me to give you a job?" Yeosang said with a raised eyebrow, "if so it's not gonna happen." He said as he walked over to the bike he was working on before you got here.

"Please Yeosang it'll only be for a little bit until I can find a new one. I don't care what it is I just need to make enough to pay my bills and rent. Please Yeosang I won't ask for anything from you ever again." You said as you bowed in front of him, you hated begging more than anything but you were desperate at this point.

"Ugh fine. But it's not permanent, I already have too many people working for me already. You can work here for max 3 months and then you have to find somewhere else okay? I'll let just let you clean up around the shop, will that work?" Yeosang said with a sigh, it's not that he didn't wanna hire you or help you out. It's just he had a very strict rule about not hiring close family and friends.

"Yes thank you so much Yeosang! thank you thank you thank you!" You said excitedly and hugged him from behind and planted a kiss on his cheek since he was still slumped over the bike. "Yeah, yeah. Be here tomorrow at 10:30, make sure you’re here on time. I'll see you tomorrow princess." Yeosang said has he continued to work on the bike and waved at you as you walked out the door and back to your apartment.

As you walked down the streets of Seoul your phone began to ring, taking it out the caller ID read 'PARK HANA' you decided to answer since she rarely ever gets time to call you. "What's up Hana?" You said as you brought the phone to your ear. "Y/NNNNN are you busy right now?" Hana said clearly sounding like she was bored. "Not really no, just heading home because I got fired from my job." This made Hana’s ears perk up, "What??? What do you mean you got fired from your job? Was it because of that bitch of a boss Mingi?" Hana said into the phone, "Bingo." You stated. "Can you meet me at the cafe near your apartment? I miss you." Hana asked and honestly you just wanted to go home because today was already rough to begin with, lost in your thoughts. You noticed you still didn't have on shoes, "Uh, yeah I just have to run home really quick. I'll meet you there in 15?" You asked Hana. "Yeah be there in 15!" You said as you sprinted towards your apartment building

After grabbing shoes and changing your clothes into more comfortable ones you headed to the cafe that was just a few places down from your apartment building. Upon opening the door you accidentally bump into a tall man with black hair "oh sorry I didn't mean to bump into you." You said as nicely as you could to the very handsome looking man. "Oh that's okay I didn't see you there sweetheart." He said with a dimply smile and pushed passed you to leave the cafe. Upon walking into the cafe you catch Hana waving to you in the Corner of the shop. "HANA!!" You said as you hugged her tightly, it had been forever since you saw her since she was mostly working. "Y/N! It's so nice to see you! I can't believe you lost your job I'm so sorry!" Hana said as you both sat down in the booth. "Yeah it's a fucking lot right now, he made my life living fucking hell there just because I was the first person that wasn't interested in fucking him. I mean I'm not saying he's not attractive, but he has a complete shit personality and this stupid superiority complex. Honestly I'm not that mad that he fired me now, now I don't have to deal with his bitch ass anymore." You said as your rested your head in your hand, "Well what are you gonna do about a job now?" Hana said sipping her drink that she managed to get before you got here. "Yeosangs letting me help clean up his shop for 3 months just to keep me stable until I find another job. You know how he is about not wanting to hire close family and friends. But it's only gonna be enough for my basic needs, ugh back to the completely broke life I go." You said as you rubbed your face in annoyance. Hana suddenly perked up thinking back to something she saw on the internet earlier that week. "Wait a minute I have an idea... why don't you try being a camgirl!" She said while slapping both of her hands on the table. You looked at her in complete horror and tried to figure out if she actually said that or if you just thought it. "Did you just ask me to try being a camgirl??" You said looking at her with a shocked look on your face. "Yes! You can make fucking bank from it! You're hot I bet the money would come rolling in, in no time!" She said to you. "Hana prostitution is illegal, if I wanted to do that I might as well go join a brothel." You said with a dead panned look on her face. You definitely weren't being persuaded. "Oh my god Y/N it's not prostitution, just think about it! You never know what might happen!" She said to you, "ugh I don't know Hana this seems so... dirty." You said back to her still not convinced. "I'm just saying, these top cam girls pull in THOUSANDS a month. It wouldn't hurt to try. But anyway, I gotta cut this short, Seonghwa just texted me that somethings up at the warehouse. I'll see you later Y/N!" She said rushing out of the cafe.

You sat there in silence by yourself for a bit contemplating what Hana had said. Of course this seemed so dirty and lewd but... desperate times call for desperate measures maybe?

Today was your first day starting work at Yeosangs shop and you made sure that you wouldn't sleep in this time. You set 3 alarms on your alarm clock, and 5 on your cell phone. You jumped up and began to get ready, still thinking about what Hana said to you yesterday.

I mean there was no way that you were even considering this right? You weren't that kind of person. I mean sure you were confident in yourself but like, not this much. But on the other hand you could make a lot of money from it? "God dammit just shut up" you said to yourself as you brushed your teeth trying to get the thought out of your head. After brushing your teeth you looked at the time on your phone "okay we're doing great it's just now 9:30, I have an entire hour until I have to be at work."

You went into your closet and threw on just a regular t-shirt and jeans, you figured Yeosang would give you a work uniform when you got there this morning. You slipped on your shoes, grabbed a jacket and your purse and headed out the door. You decided you were gonna grab a coffee from the cafe this morning since you had extra time.

You walked to the cafe and you once again bumped into someone while trying to get into the door. You looked up and realized it's the same man from before "hm he must come here quite often." You thought to yourself. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to bump into you!" You said as you held your hands up in your defense. "Oh I bumped into you yesterday didn't I? Sorry about that again pretty girl." He said with a sultry voice.

You were flustered at the nickname he just gave you, "I-it's okay! It's my fault! I should really watch where I'm going!" You said quickly, he cocked an eyebrow at you and smiled. He thought you were pretty cute.

"What's your name beautiful?" He asked you as you two stepped aside to let other people get into the cafe. "U-uh my name is Y/N! It's very nice to meet you!" You said as you held a hand out for him to shake it, instead he took your hand into his and gave it a soft kiss. Oh my god you felt like you were about to melt.

"What a beautiful name for such a beautiful girl. I'm San, it's nice to meet you sweetheart." He said with a smirk and a wink. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest at that moment. "Thank you! That's a really nice name!" You nearly face palmed at what you just said, really Y/N? "That's a really nice name?" That's the best you can do!??, "haha thank you cutie, well this was nice but I gotta get going. I'll see you around okay?" He said as he patted your shoulder and left.

You couldn't believe that just happened, in the midst of you being flustered you almost forgot about work. "SHIT!" You said as you pulled out your phone quickly unlocking it to look at the time. You let out a sigh of relief noticing that it's only 9:55, you still had plenty of time to grab your coffee before you head to KYS Motors.

After you grabbed your coffee you started your walk over to the bike shop, and you had to admit that you were super fucking nervous. What if Yeosang was super critical of you on your first day? What if he fired you for not cleaning something right? Shit you were really anxious now. Your nerves only got worse when you reached his shop. "You got this Y/N just calm down." You said to yourself to try to hype you up.

"Hey princess! You're early, I'm proud of you." Yeosang said as he unlocked the front door to let you in. The shop wasn't open just yet, it didn't open until 10:45 but he wanted you here early just so he could go over what your duties were. "Yeah well I can't fuck this up I really need this job." You said to him and took a sip of your coffee.

"Well first things first you need a uniform." Yeosang said with a sly smirk on his face as he went to the back to grab your uniform. When he comes back you're greeted with the ugliest jumpsuit you've ever seen in your life. You immediately wanted to argue, but you really needed the job so you just held your tongue. "It's great!" You said enthusiastically, Yeosang could clearly tell you were lying. "Haha I'm just fucking with you, here wear this." He said as he tossed you a grey polo shirt with his shops logo printed on the side.

"Oh thank god." You sighed a sigh of relief as you went to the bathroom to change into your work shirt. "Not bad princess, now you look like you belong." He said slightly rubbing your shoulders to get rid of some of your nerves. "Hey it's okay, don't be nervous. What I'm asking you to do is really easy." Yeosang said as he lead you around the shop stating what your duties would be. It didn't seem hard at all, all of them were really simple tasks.

After a few hours you seemed to get the hang of everything you were supposed to do, so much even you already finished all the work Yeosang had tasked you with. So ultimately you asked him what else there was for you to do and he looked back at you with a stunned look on his face.

"You already finished everything? Um, let me go check it out." Yeosang said getting up from his seat in front of the bike he was working on and began to walk around to the places in which he tasked you to clean. Everything was spotless and perfect. He couldn't believe it. "Well everything looks great, I don't really have anything else for you to do today so you can just go on home if you want." Yeosang said scratching the back of his neck.

"No Yeosang pleaseeee give me something else to do, that apartment is so boring and I need the money." You said tugging on his jumpsuit sleeve. He sighed, giving into you like he always did. "Ugh fine, you see this page? These are all the customers whos bikes are ready for pick up, their name and phone number and what bike they had is all right there. Call them and let them know that they're ready whenever the can come get them." You looked Down at the paper and there was only 3 people whos bikes were ready.

After calling the first two you went to call the 3rd and you noticed something interesting about it. "Choi, San." Read the name, you couldn't help but think back to the San you met this morning. You wondered if it was the same guy. "Oh no that's silly, San is a super popular name. That can't be him."

Well, turns out. It was him. "Hey pretty girl I didn't expect to see you again, you stalkin' me or somethin'?" He said with a Dimpled smirk on his face, making your cheeks blush a bright red. "N-no! I just started working here today I-I didn't know!" You said in your defense. "Haha it's okay cutie I'm just joking around, can I have the keys?" He said with that stupid grin on his face. God he was so hot.

You went over to the cork board that housed all the bike keys, skimming until you found his you grabbed it and handed it to him. "Thanks beautiful I'll see you around." He said with a wink. Good thing you were wearing black pants because you were a fucking waterfall right now.

"You know him?" Yeosang said while wiping his hands that were riddled with oil on a towel. "Um, I bumped into him at the cafe near my apartment yesterday and today and it just turns out that he comes here to get his bike maintenance done." You said still blushing. "Yeah he's a pretty good customer, he's been coming here for a few years now along with his brother." Yeosang said to you. "Oh that's really cool."

You said to him. "Yeah, anyway. I don't have anything else for you to do and we close in about 30 minutes so you can just head on home. Don't worry I'll still pay you for the whole day." Yeosang said as he grabbed your shoulder playfully. "Okay thank you for this again Yeosang, I'll see you tomorrow morning!" You said while grabbing your things and heading out the door.

The walk to your apartment was only about 10 minutes so you made it here pretty quick. Upon coming inside you kicked your shoes off at your front door and trudged your way to the bedroom and flopped on your bed. Work wasn't hard at all it's just you were on your feet all day. You rolled over and stared at the ceiling, you couldn't stop thinking about San. You couldn't believe all the things he said to you today. Every little nickname made your heart flutter.

You slapped your hands on your face and tried to get him off your mind. You grabbed your laptop and just absentmindedly went to one of the 'illegal' sites to watch one of your favorite shows. Hoping that would get you to stop thinking about the black haired handsome man. Upon entering the website you were greeted with these obvious porn ads, one in particular caught your eye. It read 'diamondgirlsxxx.com' , your curiosity got the best of you and you clicked the ad.

You were immediately greeted with tons of girls on live touching themselves. You blushed and shut your laptop extremely quick. But it didn't stay like that for long since you were pretty curious about all this stuff. You decided to click on one of the random girls, you watched in awe. You couldn't believe how confident and empowering she looked. You wondered if you could look like that too... "fuck it." You whispered to yourself and went over to the 'create account' button.

After putting all your information in you had to decide on a username. You went with "Luv4Kitty" you cringed at the name but it's the best you could come up with. You couldn't believe you just did that, the first thing you did is call up Hana to tell her the news.

"Hey Y/N what's up?" Hana asked into the phone, "I- Uh I wanna try being a camgirl." You said quickly and Hana could hardly tell what you said but she made it out pretty well. "Oh my god are you serious! Yes bitch yes! You know what we have to do right?" She said and you could hear the devious grin on her face. "What?" You said excitedly. "We have to go shopping." She said with a sly smirk. Oh god what have you gotten yourself into.

"Shopping?? Hana you know I can't afford that, I can barely afford to live in the first place." You said with a groan cursing your broke self. "Oh don't worry about it, I got this. Meet me in front of your apartment In 15 minutes." Hana said as she hung up. You didn't understand what she meant by what she said. You just trusted her judgement and started to get ready.

You ended up just switching your shirt to a classic tee since you were still in your work uniform. You decided to just stick with the jeans. You grabbed your purse and keys and walked down to the front of the building where you were supposed to meet Hana. You scrolled through your phone until you heard a honk which indicated Hana was here.

You noticed it wasn't her car though, she rolled down the window and smirked at you. "Get in bitch we're going shopping." She said as she flashed a black card and your eyes went wide. You couldn't help but notice the handsome man sitting in the drivers seat smoking a cigarette

"Hana what the fuck? Who's card is that? Because I know it's not yours." You said as you rolled your eyes getting into the backseat of the car. "It's my brothers and this is him by the way." She motioned to the man sitting in the drivers seat. He gave you a small wave and a smile. "Hana what the fuck do you mean it's your brothers?? We can't spend HIS money on ME. That's so disrespectful."

You said frantically because you knew damn well you don't need to be in anyone's debt. Especially not someone you didn't knows debt. "It's really okay, Hwa is rich as hell. As long as you let him watch your streams he's more than happy to contribute to the cause." She said with a devious smile on her face

"I uh- well I really thank you a lot Hwa?" You said Hana’s nickname for him since she failed to tell you his real name. You sent her a glare because you didn't wanna sound informal. "Haha no problem darling, and my names Seonghwa but Hwa will be just fine." He said while flicking the cigarette ashes out the window. You blushed at his forward ness. "Make sure you pick something pretty for me okay?" He said and this only made you blush 10 times harder.

"I- yes sir!" You said quickly. Seonghwa smirking at your reaction. "So uh, where are we going?" You asked as your scratched the back of your neck nervously. "We're going to the mall duhhh, we gotta get you some cute lingerie to wear! I've seen what underwear you have and they are just not gonna cut it sweetheart." She said with a smirk. "Hana can we please not talk about my underwear in front of your brother."

"Why not? He's gonna see you naked anyway." She said shrugging her shoulders. You couldn't help but notice Seonghwa blush at Hana’s words. "Hana can you please shut up." You said with gritted teeth. It was your first time meeting him and she was already embarrassing you. "Yeah Hana, be nice!" Seonghwa said and he slightly hit Hana in the back of the head. "Don't hit me you fucking geezer." She said slapping his arm.

"We're here guys." Seonghwa said as he pulled into the malls parking lot, you weren't gonna lie. You were super nervous about this whole thing, of course you weren't a stranger to touching yourself or having sex, you had done it plenty of times. But you had never done it on camera for several people to see.

You got out of the car and began walking towards the mall, Seonghwa could tell you were nervous. He thought it was adorable, he let Hana get ahead of you two so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you close. "Don't be nervous pretty girl, you'll look perfect in anything you wear." He whispered into your ear. This made you shiver and tremble with want. "Oh thank you." You said to him as you tried to hide your blushing face.

You both caught up to Hana and followed her to the first store. Of course it was Victoria's Secret. Almost immediately your nerves came back and you started to panic. There were so many beautiful options and you had never owned this kind of lingerie before. "Why don't you pick some out Hana? I'm not really good at this kind of thing." You said as you twiddled your thumbs.

"No problem, I'm perfect at this kind of thing." She said with a wicked grin and immediately started grabbing every piece of lingerie she thought was cute and in your size. Your eyes went wide at the prices of some of these. You couldn't believe people would spend this much money on underwear alone. "Okay here go try these on, I think these will be perfect." She said handing you about 3 sets of lingerie.

Once you got into the dressing room you began to feel nervous again. But that all went away after you tried on the first set. It was a beautiful emerald green color endorsed with lace and ribbons. It fit you perfectly and you couldn't deny that you looked absolutely stunning in it.

"What do you think of this one Hana?" You asked her since Seonghwa wasn't allowed back here per their rules. "Oh my god!! You look so fucking hot Y/N! We definitely have to get that one! Go try on the rest!!" She said excitedly. You were glad that she thought it looked amazing as well.

The second set you tried on was a cute baby pink, the bra being lace that was lined with Rhinestones across the top of your breasts. The bottom featured a lace pink skirt that was attached to a white pair of silk panties. You thought this one was beautiful as well, although you felt more cute rather than sexy. Not that that was a bad thing though.

"Okay what about this one?" You asked Hana again. "oh my fucking god bitch you are so hot!!! definitely a yes!!" She said to you. The confidence you were gaining from this felt invigorating. You couldn't get enough of it.

The third and final set Hana picked out was a royal blue. It was a full lace body suit that dipped down all the way under your belly button in the middle. This one you truly felt sexy in. This was probably your favorite of the three.

"I think this one has to be my favorite Hana I look so hot!" You said as you stepped out to show her and her eyes went wide. "We are so getting that you look amazing! Also, Hwa picked one out for you. He gave it to me for you to try on." She said as she handed you another set of lingerie.

The one Seonghwa picked was gorgeous, it was a lilac silk body suit with lace lined around the top of your breasts and it also featured a long purple sheer robe that had the same lace lining on the ends of the sleeves. You were surprised that he didn't pick something way more revealing. You felt the most beautiful in this one.

"Well?" You asked Hana as you stepped out of the dressing room for the last time, "holy shit Y/N you look so gorgeous, I can't believe he picked that one? You'd think he'd pick something more revealing." Hana had thought the same as you. "We're definitely getting all of these, this should definitely be enough to get you started. Once you get into it more we'll come back and buy you more!" She said as she pushed you back into the dressing room.

You got dressed and walked out with all the lingerie in hand and found Seonghwa waiting for you both outside the dressing rooms just scrolling on his phone. "Hm I'm surprised you stayed here the whole time, don't you think it's kinda boring?" You asked him teasingly. Hana had wandered off somewhere to look for her some things as well.

You were pretty tired so you decided to sit down next to him. "How could I get bored when I know a pretty girl is trying on lingerie for me?" He said with a wink. This alone made you blush. You couldn't help but feel yourself getting riled up at the thought of him. You wondered what other kinds of things he would say to you.

You felt yourself get some courage and whispered in his ear, "how about I let you take it off of me tonight?" You said as you slightly bit his earlobe. It was your turn to make him blush and he felt himself harden at the thought of taking off the lingerie off of you.

"I might have to take you up on that offer baby." He said in a husky voice. God you couldn't wait to get home now.

After your interaction with Seonghwa you couldn't wait to get home, you two exchanged numbers while still in Victoria's Secret away from Hana. Little did you know this was completely set up by Hana in an attempt to get Seonghwa off her ass. Not only did she help you but she finally had someone to set her brother up with.

He had been so strict and annoying lately when it came to the 'fake' family business and he would not shut up. This was her attempt at getting him to let off some steam. It couldn't have worked out any better. Of course you didn't know that though.

After walking around the mall for awhile your feet began to hurt and you grew tired, since you barley had any rest after work that day. And you couldn't wait to get a chance to be alone with Seonghwa in the seclusion of your apartment. "Hey, it's getting pretty late why don't we head home?" You said to Hana and Seonghwa.

Seonghwa smirked at you causing you to blush. He knew exactly what you were pulling here. "Yeah you're right, I'm pretty exhausted as well. Let's get going." Hana said with a yawn and you all headed back towards the entrance of the mall.

Hana offered to let you sit up front so she could lay down in the back seat. You told her that you didn't mind to sit in the back but yet she wouldn't budge and here you were sitting right next to Seonghwa as Hana softly snored in the back seat.

"I had fun with you tonight pretty girl, I hope you enjoy everything you got." Seonghwa said with a sultry voice. God you wanted to take him right then and there. "I-I did! Thank you so much again, I don't know how I can ever repay you." You said to him with a blush on your face. You guys approached a stop light and he leaned over the center console of the car.

"You can repay me with that pretty pussy of yours later baby." He said as he kissed your neck. You suddenly felt a deep pulse between your legs. Your face grew red again as the stop light turned green and you all headed towards your apartment building.

Upon arriving at the front you noticed Hana was still asleep so Seonghwa pulled you in one last time to whisper in your ear. "I gotta drop her off and then I'll head over baby. Put that purple one on just for me and sit pretty for me okay?" He said with a kiss on your cheek. "O-okay I'll see you in a bit Hwa." You said as you stepped out of the car and walked into your apartment building.

You went in your apartment and immediately began to get ready. You hadn't hooked up with anyone in awhile just cause there hadn't been anyone that was really worth hooking up with. So you had a lot of preparations to do.

You figured you had maybe an hour to get ready for him so you jumped in the shower and began washing off the reminiscences of your day. You couldn't get your mind of Seonghwa. He had made you feel so warm today. You couldn't wait to see what else he'd make you feel.

After you washed your body and your hair you went back to your room and towel dried your hair, put on some lotion and some light perfume. You didn't wanna seem like you were trying too hard. But you wanted to put in some effort in looking nice for him.

You pulled out the purple set he picked out and put it on. You looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt so beautiful in this. It was definitely your favorite now. You wondered what people would think of it once you started streaming. Would other people find you beautiful in it or would they think you're trying too hard?

You're knocked out of your thoughts when you hear a knock at your door. You texted Seonghwa your apartment number once you exited the car so you knew it had to be him. You could feel yourself getting nervous. "Pull it together Y/N you got this." You said as you headed towards the door.

You opened the door to reveal Seonghwa himself, he had changed from his jeans and leather jacket into a pair of joggers and a hoodie. God he looked even more sexy than before?! How was that possible?

His jaw dropped once he saw you, since he wasn't allowed back in the changing area of the store he never saw what the lingerie looked like on you. God you looked so fucking beautiful he couldn't take his eyes off you. He couldn't wait to get in there and take it off.

"Hey there pretty girl, god you look so fucking hot I can barely contain myself." He said as he backed you into your apartment. Your eyes glanced down to see he was already sporting a semi. The thought of it made you blush.

"Then don't. Show me what you can do old man." You whispered in his ear. This made the hair stand up on the back of his neck and he couldn't hold himself back anymore. "Who the fuck you calling an old man princess?" He said as he smashed your guys' lips together. "Only thing you’re gonna be calling me is daddy, do I make myself clear princess?" He said as he pulled your hair back to kiss up your neck. This action alone made you shiver.

"Yes sir." You said with a moan. "Good girl. Now, show me what that pretty little mouth can do baby." He said as he shoved you to your knees. You're then met with quite the bulge in front of your face. If he looked huge through his sweatpants then you couldn't imagine what he looked like with nothing on. The thought alone made you clench your thighs tightly. Rubbing them together to get some kind of friction.

"Didn't I just tell you to get that mouth of yours to work princess? Or am I gonna have to do it myself?" He said as he grabbed on to the base of your hair and pulled you up to look at him. "N-no daddy I'm sorry." You winced as he held you by your hair. "Good girl, now get to it." He said as he set you back down on your knees.

You pulled down his sweatpants only to be met with a huge tent in his boxers right in front of your face. Yep, this man was definitely huge. Your mouth watered at the sight of it. You gave his tip a small kiss through his black boxers. This made him shutter. "F-fuck baby pull em down please, need you so bad." He said breaking his rough facade for a mere second.

You pulled down his boxers and was met with his monster of a cock. He was definitely bigger than the other men you had been with, you wondered how this was even gonna fit in the first place. You got to work on his dick, grabbing it at the base and slowly stroking it. Getting a little more confident you sucked his tip into your mouth slowly while looking up at him with big doe eyes.

"Fuck baby go deeper please." He said as he grabbed your hair and pushed you down further causing you to gag a bit. You did as you were told and began sucking him off completely. "Fuck yeah princess that's it. That's a good girl." He said as he held your bobbing head.

You grew more confident and put him all the way to the back of your throat. You grew more needy the more you heard his moans, you didn't wanna stop. He felt so good in your mouth you felt like you were getting high off it. The feeling only made you slick the body suit even more.

It had been months since you had sex so you could probably cum from sucking his dick alone. It only made you go faster. "Fuck baby stop I'm gonna cum, I don't wanna cum in your mouth." Seonghwa said as he pulled his dick out of your mouth. He pulled you up by your neck and kissed you deeply. Slipping his tongue in your mouth and tasting himself.

"You want me to eat that pretty pussy baby?" He whispered as he left little hickies on your neck which you would surely need to cover tomorrow. "Please daddy.." you whimpered out as the pool of slick in your body suit was beginning to be too much to bare. You wanted to fuck him so bad.

"Lay on the bed for me pretty girl." He said as he gently pushed you onto the bed. He couldn't get over how hot and fucked out you already were and he hadn't even done anything yet. "Goddamn princess, sucking my cock turned you on that much? Pussys practically dripping for me. Fuck you're so beautiful." He said as he slowly rubbed your clit through the body suit and pressed a small kiss on it.

"F-fuck Seonghwa please." You whispered out feeling yourself get even wetter from his actions. "Don't worry baby Daddy's gonna take good care of you." He said as took off your sheer robe and pulled the straps of the body suit down over your shoulders and took it off. He almost came at the sight of you. You were even more beautiful than he imagined.

"God princess you're perfect. Lookin' so pretty for me." He said as he fondled your boobs. God everything about you was perfect he couldn't get enough of it. "Please touch me Seonghwa please." You whimpered out as you couldn't take his teasing anymore. "No problem baby. I got you." He kissed down from your neck, to your navel, and finally to the place you needed him most.

"Please, I need you so bad." You whimpered out to him hoping to god he'd do something soon. "I got you baby don't worry." He said and gave your clit a kiss, you shuddered out a moan and gripped your hands in his hair. He licked a long strip from your entrance all the way back up to your clit. "Fuck baby you taste amazing." He said and delved back into your pussy.

"F-fuck Hwa oh my god." You said as you gripped his hair even tighter. Seonghwa began to grind his hard erection into the bed just to get some kind of friction. He kept licking at your wet heat and dipping his tongue in your entrance every once in a while. You tasted amazing, if he could have this every day he would be in heaven.

You began to feel the knot in your core tighten. You knew it wouldn't take you long to cum since it had been so long since you had, had sex. But you damn sure weren't complaining. "Hwa I'm close" you moaned out to him. "Oh yeah princess? Want me to make you cum all over my face baby?" He said to you.

"Fuck yes please daddy make me cum." You said gripping his hair even tighter. Seonghwa began to work you like a starved man, you suddenly felt an urge like you had to pee. Immediately you wanted him to stop, you didn't think he'd want you squirting all over his face. "Seonghwa s-stop i feel funny." You moaned out but he didn't stop. Suddenly the knot in your stomach broke and you ended up squirting all over his face.

You sat up terrified because you were so embarrassed that just happened. "Oh my god I'm so sorry I promise I didn't mean to-" you were cut off by Seonghwa smashing his lips into yours and pushing you back into the bed. "Never fucking apologize for that baby that was fucking amazing. I'd let you squirt on my face again but god damn I need to fuck you right now."

He said as he pushed you back on to the bed and he began undressing himself completely, you nearly moaned at seeing his completely naked body. Despite him being a few years away from 40, god damn he looked fucking good. You could tell he did a lot to keep up his physique. God you needed him inside you immediately.

He crawled onto the bed and on top of you and pulled you into a deep kiss. "You ready pretty girl?" He said as he poked your entrance with his hard cock. "I- I don't know if it'll fit." You moaned out as he rubbed his tip on your clit. "Don't worry baby I'm gonna make it fit." He said as he began to push into your entrance.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head and you threw your head back with a moan. "Oh fuck Seonghwa!" You moaned out which only made him push the entirety of his dick inside you, you almost came right then and there.

"F-fuck baby it's so tight." He said as he stilled inside so you could get used to him. "Please move, I can't take it, move please." You said as you glided your fingernails along his back. This made him shudder with pleasure.

"You got it princess." He said as he began moving back in forth. You felt so warm and wet he knew he wouldn't last long. Here he was in his late 30's and he was about to cum like he was a virgin all over again. Although it had been a few years since he was last with a woman. So he cut himself a bit of slack.

"Fuck me just like that oh my god." You moaning out your obscenities only made him fuck you even harder. He pushed your legs up to your chest and locked his arms around them trapping you. He began Pounding into you so fast you saw your self seeing white. You were definitely about to cum.

"F-fuck Seonghwa I'm gonna cum." You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder. "That's it baby cum for me. Fucking squirt all over me baby. Come on do it for me." He grunted in your ear and that's all you needed to hear. You let out a ear splitting moan and gushed all over his abdomen.

You fell back on to the bed as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. "Fuck princess I'm gonna cum, you gonna let me cum inside you?" He said roughly in your ear. "Fuck please Hwa, cum inside me." The second you said that you felt his cock twitch. A few seconds later you felt him filling you up. The feeling was almost addictive.

"Fuck pretty girl take it all. God damn you're so fucking hot." He said as he pulled you in for a deep kiss as he was still cumming inside you. After he had finished he laid on top of you for a bit while he was still inside. He stroked your hair as you tried to catch your breath.

"Still think I'm an old man princess?" He said as he kissed your cheek. "Absolutely not, that was amazing Hwa." You said as you kissed him softly. He finally pulled out of you and you felt his cum dripping from within you. It felt nice but it also felt disgusting. "Let me get you cleaned up baby I'll be right back." Seonghwa said as he went into the bathroom to get you a warm washcloth.

After he cleaned you and himself up you both found yourselves laying in the embrace of eachother. You didn't want the night to end. "Will you stay with me tonight Seonghwa?" You said as you traced shapes along his chest, slightly dozing off in the process.

"If that's what you want baby." He said as he kissed your forehead. You nodded and after a bit he heard soft snores coming from you. God you were so cute he couldn't get enough of you. He was definitely going to have to thank his sister for making this happen.

"Goodnight beautiful." He said as he drifted off to sleep himself. Ending the night in the most perfect way possible.

-

A/N: heyyy this will be two parts but I can’t promise when the next part will come out so wait patiently for it !! Ty!!

#ateez smut #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut #smut

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap ten/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs -

Baby, I’m Yours

summary: A sleepless night brings you back to where it all began.

wc: 8k

warnings: 18+ for the softest of smut.

author’s note: I know we still have the epilogue but I can’t believe we’re actually here at the end of their story. Thank you to all of you that spent your summer reading about Steve and his Tough Girl, this has been such a journey for me as a writer with a lot of challenges but I’m so thankful I did it. Truly writing about these two and talking about it with you guys was the highlight of my summer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you 🧡

🌇 <- chapter nine

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

Beginning of August

Steve had been gone for a week and a half and it felt more like a lifetime to you, but it wasn’t for the lack of communication. If Steve wasn’t calling you he was texting you, sending you pictures of his lunch no matter how lame you told him it was. By day three you were sending him a picture of your own with a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes. His enthusiastic response of ‘That looks good baby!!’  had made you squirm in your seat with hot cheeks huffing the word “pathetic” to yourself, but that didn’t stop you from doing it again the next day. 

It was FaceTime calls of Peach telling Steve to turn the camera around, always too busy looking at you and telling you how pretty you are to notice his was pointed towards a wall. Or the one time it was pointed at Eddie who sat in front of him making a suggestive ‘cumming’ face to tease him, the camera flipped immediately when he heard you giggle. Steve scolded his cackling friend with an ‘honestly, I hate you’ before taking you to another room, apologizing profusely with blush visible on his cheeks.

It was the small bits of time in between text messages and phone calls that made it drag. The quiet evenings without Bandit’s excited bark from the front yard, the low simmer that’s always in your gut from the possibility of running into him any time you come and go, is gone with the man and his dog. It’s just enough time for seeds of doubt to creep in. The newness, the anxiety of it all.

The bright red numbers on the clock above your stove read 2:13am - three days until Steve gets home and tonight you can’t sleep. Quietly thanking whatever gods there are for your day off tomorrow, well - today. 

Your apartment smells like Clorox, lavender, and lemon. The wood floors sparkling just like your kitchen countertops. Cleaning everything you could touch has kept you busy, but it doesn’t make you any more tired than when you’d started. Your intrusive thoughts and daydreams are going a mile a minute:you didn’t get your usual good night call from him. The rational side of you knows that one missed phone call doesn’t mean anything, but the irrational side decided you don’t  need to rest.

The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.

The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky. You can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.

Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. 

“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside of you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.

“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.

His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at your doorstep, and god, do you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappearing inside of it. 

His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you  — like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.

“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight, and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”

He smells like bergamot and cedar, a lingering hint of the cigar he probably smoked in New York still clinging to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him. 

“I dunno, what does that make me, Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.

He hums, a low sound that vibrates from deep in his chest while his fingers come up to toy with the stone that dangles just above the dip of your breasts. The tips of them tickling rough against your soft skin. 

“What do you want?” His confident demeanor falters when he asks just as quiet, all the miles and days without seeing each other are affecting him too. He doesn’t tell you that’s part of the reason he booked an early flight home on your day off. 

“I want you.” You don’t hesitate when you say it, no pauses for even a second to think of what you want to say. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, the muscles under your palm dance from your simple touch. He wonders if you can feel his pulse.

“You already have me.” He almost wants to laugh until he still sees the same shared doubt  in your eyes. “Haven’t I made that obvious?”

He tugs at your necklace as a reminder, a smile breaking across your face because of it and all he wants to do is kiss you now. Especially when he drops the stone to grab your hand, and after taking just a few steps, you reach up to touch it again — a silent, constant reminder of his confession as you walk towards the wooden gates.

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?” You pout a little, looking up at him when he stops you both at your backyard. 

“I landed a few hours ago,” He chuckles, his hands finding your hips to pull you to his chest, in love with the way you stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck like it’s natural, like it’s second nature to want him close. “I was actually going to surprise you in the morning with breakfast after I picked up Bandit from Nance’s.” 

“Oh yeah?” You grin at the thought of Steve showing up at your front door, that messy head of hair shoved into a baseball cap.

He nudges his nose against yours, the spearmint of his toothpaste fanning cool across your cheeks while your fingers curl into the soft hair at the base of his neck. Tilting your chin so your lips just barely touch, you silently beg him to close the gap. 

“Yeah,” He breathes, hazel eyes clocking the way your lashes flutter against the top of your cheeks. He almost feels bad for teasing, especially when you give his hair a gentle, coaxing tug. “But someone wanted to risk their lives for the sake of taking out the trash. So, surprise, pretty girl, I’m home.” 

His words make your breath catch, and you want to tell him he feels like home more than your real one ever did. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest when his top lip whispers against your still slightly pouted bottom one. You tug at his roots a little harder this time, needier, and you swear a whine tightens at the back of your throat threatening to come out if he doesn’t give you what you want. Please, kiss me.

“Well, good thing you were here to save me.” You giggle against his mouth, and it makes his hands squeeze at your sides a little tighter, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The tip of your nose pushes against the rough stubble on his cheek, “Besides, I missed you, I wouldn’t have wanted to wait ‘til the morning.”

“God, honey. You have no idea how much I missed you.” His face crumples a little at the thought, almost like he forgot for a second you were right in front of him, but when you somehow pull yourself closer, he doesn’t waste anymore time.

The wood is rough when your back hits the gate at the same time his lips finally crash into yours. A week of longing comes out with a sigh. The metal hinges and lock clank loudly together while he steals the breath from your lungs. He coaxes your mouth open with a swipe from his impatient tongue, groaning when you grant him access. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, and he promises himself he’ll never go a day without it again — not if he can help it.  

Your hands get greedy in his hair, bigger handfuls, harsher tugs while your body stays flush against his as he keeps you pinned to the door. It’s all tongue and teeth for a minute, both of you losing yourselves in it for longer than you should. It’s not until a car honks, signaling to any bikers around that it’s popping out of the alley, breaking you two apart. 

Chest heaving and lips swollen, all you want is more.

He laughs to himself pressing his forehead against yours with the kind of smile that makes your knees weak. The tip of his nose touches yours; he’s all wild hair and love sick eyes. You don’t want to be without him tonight. Or ever.

“Come sleepover?”

The question comes out before you can stop it, before you can really register what that invitation might mean for both of you. His eyes widen before they search your face for any kind of regret, his tongue wetting his lips when he doesn’t find it. You twist strands of his honey hair between your fingers, nervously waiting for his response. 

“We - we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna be with you.” You finally whisper, your nerves getting the best of you. He can’t believe you think he’d actually say no.

“Let me shower and get the airport off of me, and then I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you baby.” He steals another kiss from your smiling lips, letting you take another one for yourself, groaning at the nip of your teeth on his bottom lip before he finally lets you go. 

Opening the gate for you, he grabs your wrist pulling you back for one more, relishing in the giggle it earns him before he whispers that he’ll be back in fifteen minutes.

It feels like your heart is trying to escape through your chest as you try not to check the time on your phone. Strategically placed candles are the only light in your living room and kitchen, while a dimmed bedside lamp in your room gleams a dark orange with your wax melter. It feels like your apartment is glowing, but it does nothing to relax the nerves that course through your veins as you pace the small space of your room trying to shake them before his inevitable arrival.

Knock, knock, knock

They are quieter than his normal ones, but they make you jump just the same. You shake your hands out, taking a deep breath before you pad barefoot to your front door. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that always grows the first time you lay your eyes on him and his lopsided grin.

“Hey baby.” He greets you in the kind of voice that makes the dough of your thighs press.

His damp hair is pushed back, from what looks like a few quick hands in the mirror. A simple white shirt replaces the tank top from before, fitting loosely across his shoulders, and a soft looking pair of gray cotton shorts cover the tops of his thighs this time. He’s wearing a tan pair of moccasin slippers on his feet that you’ve never seen, and for some reason his exposed ankles make the heat rise to your cheeks while the fresh scent of his pine body wash threatens to take over your senses.

“Hi handsome.” It’s dripping in sugar the way you say it, sweet off your tongue just for him as you open the door wider.

He thinks your apartment smells like peaches and the ocean when you close it behind him. It smells just like you and he feels surrounded by it, intoxicated with it, the way he always wants to be. You watch him take in your apartment like he missed it too, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when he notices you just cleaned it. He bites back his remark when his eyes meet yours, he can’t bring himself to say it when you’re staring at him from under your lashes with your back pressed to the door all shy like that.

“Don’t be shy, honey,” he extends a big hand out for you to take with soft eyes, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” copying your line from outside, he wiggles his fingers a little with a smile warmer than the glow of the candles that dance shadows across his sharp jaw and cheek bones, “I just wanna lay with you.”

You don’t hesitate to slip your palm into his, your heart racing when you watch his fingers wrap around you with ease. He pulls you into him, colliding in a mix of  forest and the beach. He keeps a hold of your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one. The pad of his thumb traces over the heated skin, paying extra attention to the soft bag under your eye. You needed sleep.

“Just me and you, that’s all I want, okay?” He reassures you in a voice lower than a whisper. His heart swells when you nod with big glassy eyes, your hand coming to rest on the top of his so you can lean deeper into his touch.Steve’s hazel eyes look to yours, he tilts his head a little bit closer in a silent ask for permission, you push up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He kisses you differently than how he did in the alley, differently than the Fourth of July and the baseball game. He’s gentle, like he’s taking his time with you because he actually has it now, like he’s sure of it. He doesn’t try to deepen it even when they move together like this is what they were always meant to be doing, not even when your top lip catches a little dirty with his bottom. He wants to remember this moment, commit it to memory so that he never forgets what this feels like with you. He kisses you like this until the need for oxygen becomes too much and your feet start to hurt from standing in place for too long.

“Let’s go lay down.” You whisper between bated breaths that mingle with his, your chests heave as he gives you the kind of toothy grin that makes the butterflies wake up again, nodding with a squeeze of your hand.

The hum of A/C and the sounds of your breathing are the only things that can be heard in the low light of your room. Steve’s body lays pressed on top of yours, making himself comfortable between your legs. His head rests on your sternum with a cheek against the soft curve of your tummy. His big hands hold tight to your sides, caging you in – it feels like he’s everywhere and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The weight of him relaxes you into the feathers of your pillows.

Your fingers keep themselves busy buried deep in the thickness of his hair. Still a little damp at the roots, you massage the part of his scalp you know was resting on the hard cushion of the airplane seat, earning you a deep groan that vibrates between your legs. He feels the way they try to close because of it, the sharp intake of breath that you try to hide.

He’d be lying if he said his own body wasn’t reacting being this close to you, especially when the pads of his thumbs caress under the swell of your breasts and there’s no wire of a bra to be found. His eyes roll back as the blunt ends of your nails start to scratch lightly near the nape of his neck, making his fingers squeeze you at the sensation. His face nuzzles deeper into the softness of your stomach, inhaling. You feel the prickle of his stubble through the thin material of your tank top and it makes you giggle. 

Steve doesn’t know how he lasted as long as he did this past week without you. 

He pushes the bottom of your tank top up and tries not to stare at the supple skin exposed to him before blowing a raspberry. It earns an even louder giggle, making your legs bend at the knees, trapping him in between your thighs.

“Steve!” You sound annoyed but the smile on your face gives you away when you go to cover your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“What baby?” He smirks against your skin and feels the way it makes you squirm with a subtle roll of your hips, he’s not even sure you noticed that you did it.

“No…”Your voice trails off when he pushes your shirt up a little higher, his lips getting bolder, addicted to the way you heat up for him with every soft kiss, “No raspberries.” You finally manage, making him chuckle. But that doesn’t stop him continuing on his path.

“I promise I’ll be nice, m’sorry” He mumbles an apology against your skin, basking in the goosebumps it earns him.

He sits back on his knees, thumbs hooking into the bottom of your tank. His eyes meet yours from underneath his lashes and he wishes he could take a picture of the way you look right now.

“Is this okay?” He asks just to make sure, and the nod of your head with heavy lids is enough for him to press a wet kiss on your sternum before pulling the rest of the offending fabric off, throwing it somewhere on your floor. 

Steve forgets how to breathe the moment his eyes land on you, soft curves just begging for his touch. He can’t help himself when he runs his palms up your sides making your nipples pebble when the pads of his thumbs meet the bottom swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel the wings under your rib cage.

“God - honey,” Steve’s words get lost on his tongue when you stare up at him with eyes blown out like his, it makes him run a hand down his face like he can’t believe you’re real. “I’m lucky to just be lookin’ at you.”

His praise makes a shy smile push up your cheeks, his own teeth shining in a grin because of it.

“I wanna look at you too.” You whine a little, reaching down between your legs to tug at the cotton of his shirt with a pout.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, bending back down to hover over you. His nose nudges against your cheek before his lips brush yours, smirking when you nod a little desperate against his mouth.

The kiss he gives you lingers, lighting a fire inside of you, the kind that burns at your fingertips, consuming you like it’s wild and it makes you realize it’s never going to be enough. You’re never going to get enough of the man who looks at you like you hung the stars in his sky, like you were the sun that broke through the rain clouds that followed him around. 

His fingers curl at the hem of his shirt, and it feels like he’s moving in slow motion when he pulls it over his head, adding it to the already growing pile on the floor. His muscles twitch under your gaze, his own nerves finally catching up to him when he realizes just how long it’s been since he’s been with someone like this. Pink dusts his cheeks but he doesn’t look away, not when he sees the way your eyes glaze over at the sight. The dark thatch of hair in the middle of his chest looks soft to the touch from his late night shower and it makes your fingers twitch to touch him. 

The silver of his chain gleams like yours in the moonlight that leaks through your curtains and it makes his skin look like it glows. You give in, running your fingertips through the thick happy trail that’s surrounded by another collection of freckles and moles that you feel the need to kiss and you catch the shudder that runs through him because of it.

“You’re so handsome, Steve.” It comes out a little breathless, and it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Thank you, angel.” He tries to hide his bashfulness in a grin and a hand through his hair, bending back down to press a kiss to your collarbone so you don’t see his smile.

He starts a path up your neck, nipping at sensitive skin along the way to your lips, his own butterflies being spurred on by the whimper it earns him. He hovers over you searching your face for any indication to stop but he’s only met with the kind of look in your eyes that almost has him say it.

 ‘I love you’.

He tries to show you by slotting his lips against yours in a hot breath, like a key to its lock. The bed dips on either side of your head when he goes from his palms to his forearms, chest to chest he wonders if you can feel his heart beating just for you tonight.

The feeling of his skin against yours makes every inch of you feel like a livewire, both of you moaning into the kiss like you’ve waited too long for this. Tongues collide messily when he rolls his hips with a purpose. The pointed pressure on your bundle of nerves, has you keening into him. Your hands slide up his chest through the patch of hair you’d been dreaming about for months, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Addicted to the way his hard muscles flex against your soft skin.

Box springs squeak when he lets go of all of his weight, it feels like he’s everywhere and it makes your head spin. Your fingers find their way back into the soft hair at the nape of his neck as you fight for dominance with his lips, trying to convey everything you’re feeling right now because words just won’t work.

Pushing your hips up to meet his in a slow grind, the thin material of his shorts does nothing to hide just how big he really is and it makes everything turn sloppy, teeth scraping together with silk between your fingers tugging at his roots a little mean. He smiles when he pulls away to catch his breath, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes are as black as the night outside that threatens to give away to the sun in just a few hours, they look at you like he can’t believe you’re real, memorizing every detail of your face like you might disappear if he blinks.

“So pretty.” He murmurs before littering kisses down your body, some sweet and some with a nip of his teeth. 

His eyes meet yours in a silent question of ‘is this okay?’, long fingers curling around the elastic band. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your shy smile. You nod with a little too much excitement making him smirk before pressing a sweet kiss on the top of your hip, running his nose along the soft your tummy doing it again to the other side.

You hold your breath when he pulls them down your thighs, the tips of his fingers gliding down the sides of your legs as he goes, lips tugging up when you squirm a little because of it. A low groan vibrates from his chest when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear, glistening with your arousal in the dim light. You’re so wet and all he’s done is kiss you. 

“Baby, baby, baby.” He mutters awestruck by the sight.

A little embarrassed at your body’s reaction, his praise makes your legs try to snap shut but he stops you with a gentle hand on the inside of your knee, spreading them again.

“You’re beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” He begs, taking all of you in again. “So, so, so beautiful, honey.”

His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your leg up enough for his lips to kiss the soft skin right above the round bone, his nose skims up your calf to press another one, relishing in the giggle he gets as he keeps on his path to what he really wants. You squeal when he nips at the inside of your knee and you can feel his smirk against your goosebumps. 

Once his kisses get to your thigh, he settles between your legs with his chest to the mattress. It’s hard to remember your own name when he looks up at you through his lashes like that. He hooks your knee over his broad shoulder, his lips dragging a little dirty across your heated skin. He can taste the watermelon that still lingers from his favorite lotion. You were going to be the death of him.

He meets your eyes when he gets high enough for your thigh and hip to connect. Close enough to smell how sweet you are worked up just for him. 

“Can I taste you?” He skims his nose up the plush inside of your thigh when he asks, his eyelids growing heavy just basking in being close to you like this. You could say no, and this would be enough for him but the way you’re already dripping on your sheets makes him insatiable. “You want that?”

You want that?

He watches how your eyes glaze over at his question, the intensity of his gaze makes you want to hide, he was so handsome looking up at you like this. Too bashful to actually say yes, you nod again.

“Can you say it for me?” He squeezes your hip, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles to soothe your nerves like his own weren’t boiling under the surface of his confident demeanor like a volcano ready to explode. 

What if he wasn’t good at this anymore?

“Y- yes, I want you to taste me, handsome you can do whatever you want to me.” The breathy giggle that bubbles passed your lips makes him grin lopsided just how you like, a smugness that wasn’t there before smoldering like a fire in his eyes.

“Yeah? Fuck - Honey, I dream about this.” He groans when he pulls himself closer, the tip of his nose running up your slick folds making you shudder, fingers already tangling in your sheets. “You want me to show you how much I missed you?”

He doesn’t tell you that he’s started to always miss you when you aren’t around.

He accepts your nod this time, your teeth threatening to make your bottom lip bleed when he settles your other leg over his shoulder too, nothing holding him back from you anymore. He takes all of you in with a greedy eyes, his pink tongue darling out to lick his lips when he sees just how much you want this too.

Nothing can prepare you for the first swipe of his flattened tongue between your slick folds, the tip of it catching your clit with just enough pressure for the grip on your sheets to tighten. The butterflies in your rib cage feel like they make their escape in the gasp you let out, his low hum of approval making your toes curl when he does it again. 

“So fucking sweet baby, god of course you are.” 

He doesn’t waste anymore time testing the waters, his self doubt gone with his self control when your hips roll up asking for more. Steve knows now he’ll never say no to you and he’s not shy with the way he buries his face in your pussy. His tongue laps up everything you give him, like he’s hungry with his nose pressed to your bundle of nerves with enough pressure to make your back arch. 

“Ohmygod - Steve.” The moan you let out makes his cock twitch, your fingers reaching down to tangle themselves in his hair, shamelessly pulling him closer. You were better than his dreams.

Your thighs snap closed around his ears after he stops the greedy strokes of his tongue in the tightness of your entrance for his lips to wrap your clit. He sucks with the kind of force that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. His eyebrows marry together when he closes his eyes like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. One of hands leaves the dough of your thighs for his thick index finger to take his tongue's place, collecting the slick from between your folds before pushing one knuckle in. 

It makes you gasp a little breathy as your hips push up for more, and he gives it to you, pushing two more knuckles in and you already feel so full. Your walls constrict, fluttering around his single digit like it’s a stretch and he wonders how you’re going to be able to take him. His own hips rut into the mattress in search of some kind of relief while he sets a steady pace between his mouth and his wrist that has you clenching like you’re about to unravel. 

“You close baby? Wanna show me how good it feels?” His question comes out sloppy against your mound, all the color in his eyes is gone meeting yours from between your legs blown wide. When he adds a second finger, it slides in with ease making your eyes hit the back of your head, a low moan bubbling past your lips. Your toes curl with his fingers, jaw going slack with his name in your mouth like a prayer and he’s scared you’re going to make him cum in his pants again. 

“Just like that, fuck - right there - Steve, Steve, Steeeeeve!” The fingers that are tangled in his hair tug rough, your thighs clamping down hard around his head while your body tries to squirm away to run from the intensity of it all, the stubble on his jaw rubbing you raw when he moves his head from side to side drinking in everything you give him.

His hand on your hip locks you in place while you come undone on his tongue and he swears you taste just like sugar when he buries his face in deeper till you whine, pushing on his forehead to stop, overstimulation winning. Heat floods your cheeks when you see the shine from your slick covering the bottom of his lopsided grin when he finally looks up at you.

“So pretty like this,” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your shaking thigh. 

You cover your face with your hands, the intensity of your first orgasm and the intimacy of it all overwhelms you, the tightness in your chest threatens to become unbearable. The three words sitting at the tip of your tongue beg to come out from between your lips. 

Not yet.

He trails sticky kisses up your stomach, making sure to pay special attention to the swell of your breasts, pulling them both together in his big hands to give them equal treatment. Shining lips wrap around your sensitive nipples and it's enough for a new wave of arousal to blossom deep inside your belly, a subtle rock of your hips meeting his when he rolls one between his teeth. Insatiable, just like him.

“Steve,” His name comes out around a sigh, your fingers running up his freckled back before tangling themselves in his hair again, addicted to the softness of it.

“Mmm, tell me what you want.” He looks up at you from under thick lashes, lids heavy, and eyes glossy. He’s wrecked.

“You.” The answer is just as simple as it was outside, it's all you’ve ever wanted. You realize that now. The universe bringing you here to this moment with him. This was it.

“Baby,” he looks at you like he means it, like his whole heart is in your hands now and it has been since the day you moved in he just didn’t know it yet, “I’m yours.”

He moves back up your body, leaving wet kisses across sweat slicked skin making sure to suck at the sensitive spot he found just above your collarbone, smiling when you gasp. He’s not expecting to feel your lips against his jaw, bold and sure of themselves by the time they get to the corner of his mouth, dainty fingers pulling his chin down to collect your kiss.

Your lips move like you can finally relax, like you’re home now and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest. This didn’t feel like just sex.

Your hands run down his sides, grinning into his mouth when he chuckles as the tips of your fingers brush against his ribs, you keep that information locked away another time as you hook them in the elastic band of his shorts. His tongue licks a little dirty into your mouth when you start to pull them down his hips, helping you get them to his knees before kicking them off entirely. The length of him feels heavy against your stomach, and it makes you break away from the kiss but his lips stay attached to you.

Your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach. 

The view makes your breath hitch and get stuck in the back of your throat, walls fluttering around nothing when you see just how big he really is. He’s too busy trying to find new places to make you gasp and all you wanna do is look at him.

“Steve” his name comes out around the gasp he was trying so hard to get by sucking a little bruise behind your ear.

He hums against your skin with his eyes closed, drowning in you. Love drunk off of it. The slow sleepiness from the day creeping in as his body molds to the warmth of you.

“I wanna look at you, too.” Your request is quiet against the rough stubble that fades into his neck, and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips.

“Yeah?”  His voice is hoarse, nose nudging against your jaw when he brings his gaze back to yours, a smile pulls up the apples of his cheeks, crinkling small lines under his eyes.

“Yeah.” You don’t nod this time.

He holds your eyes in his, needing you to know there’s a double meaning in his words when he brings his palm to your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone. 

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

The mattress bounces when Steve flops next to you on his back, the two of you barely fitting on your queen size with his broad shoulders and long legs. He catches the way your eyes grow big when you sit up on your knees and finally get to see all of him. He reaches out for you, sensing your hesitation at his size

“C’mere, baby, we’ll go slow.”

Heat blooms between your legs when you take his hand, your knees finding a home on either side of his hips. He’s thicker than you’d imagined all those nights with your fingers between your thighs. The big vein running up the length of him protrudes like it’s working overtime, while beads of pearly white smear against the rough patch of hair just below his belly button from his light pink tip. Wrapping his hand around the base, he gives himself a pump to relieve some of the ache from seeing you sitting on top of him like this. Soft curves on display in the moonlight, he can’t wait to see them when it breaks daylight.

“Fuck,” He sighs when you settle above him, “you look gorgeous.”

His words make your confidence peak, your hands finding themselves flat against his chest, the blunt ends of your nails drag through the hair there and you spot another cluster of freckles you hadn’t seen before, you wonder if he’ll let you find them all.

“Look who’s talkin’” You tease, making him laugh as you lean up to steal a kiss. The motion has the length of him slide easily between your slick folds, his tip catching your clit before popping out.

“Jesus Christ.” He sighs against your mouth that’s formed in a silent ‘o’,  rolling his back up in search for more.

“Steve - you’re so - “ The last of your sentence is stolen by a gasp when you grind down to meet his thrust, the tip of him prodding your entrance before gliding up with just the right amount of pressure to make you both moan. 

“I’m so what?” He asks a little smug, arms circling the curve of your waist to pull you closer, dragging you over the length of him again, it makes you shudder in his grasp. 

He catches against where you beg for more of him, fluttering around the tip, your walls try to suck him in. A low growl rumbles from his chest when he tries to fit a little more. It’s your hips that roll, and it's just enough for him to push all the way in with a little resistance.

“Goddd,” You whine, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been, your walls stinging, desperately trying to accommodate his size. A low huff exhales through your nose when you sit up straight, letting your nails drag over the beauty marks that litter his stomach before finishing your sentence, “so big.” 

“Yeah, but look at you takin’ it.” He groans with pinched brows, eyes transfixed on where he disappears inside of you. Arousal coating the thick thatch of hair that frames him, wetting his lips as he watches the way you grind your clit against it letting him fill you to the hilt. “So good for me baby, so beautiful, - fuck! - so gorgeous.”

His praise has you clenching around him, your mouth falling open when you feel him twitch because of it. His big hands find the tops of your thighs, the pads of his fingers leaving fires in their wake while making their way to your hips. He squeezes softly when he gets there, guiding your lazy thrusts before searching for your hands. 

You watch him intertwine your fingers with curious eyes, his gaze transfixed on yours as he holds them at your sides, rolling his hips up to push even deeper.

“Oh god,” He does it again only this time if feels like there’s nowhere else for him to fit and it makes your eyes screw shut, “ohmyfuckinggod - Steeeve!” 

“Right there? Yeah? Is that it?” He grunts trying to repeat it and your hands squeeze his in an iron grip. “Come on baby, I need to see you.”

It’s hard to open your eyes, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is almost overwhelming. Connected to him in a way that is going to change you forever. The pad of his thumb rubs soft on the top of your hand, bringing you back to him. 

“You’re eyes are too pretty to be keepin’ them from me.” He smiles when you finally meet his gaze and it’s enough to punch the air out of your lungs. 

“I love you.” The three words slip past your kiss bitten lips before you can even think long enough to stop them and it makes everything come to a standstill. 

“What’d you just say?” Steve’s voice is quiet, something unrecognizable in his tone that makes all your nerves come back like they never left.

“I - I -“ the harsh sting of rejection is written all over your face and the feeling of you trying to untangle your hands snaps him back to reality. To you.

“Hey, hey, hey, no honey.” He doesn’t let you go, squeezing till his knuckles turn white “I just wanted to make sure I heard you right, because I’ve been wanting to say that to you since the fourth of July.”

You light up for him in a way he’s never seen before and he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been. 

“Really?” You whisper a little shy, your own smile becoming uncontainable. 

He lets your hands go to wrap his arms back around your waist, sitting up as he pulls you with him on his lap. Chest to chest with his back against your headboard, you’re even closer to him like this. The new position has him impossibly deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix making you keen pretty. 

“Yeah, really.” He sighs, wishing he had gotten  to say it first. 

One arm keeps you close while the other wraps around your back, the warmth of his palm spreading wide across it. The stray hair that you missed more than you realized falls over his forehead and there’s nothing stopping you from pushing it back. Fingernails dragging through his soft hair, making his eyes close until he feels the slow drag of your hips spurring him on. 

He doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, especially when your arms wrap around his neck and he feels your hardened nipples against chest. The new angle has his thrusts hitting the spot inside of you no one else has ever been able to find, the one you almost didn’t think existed. The tip of him catches it again and again.

The sound of your slick fills the quiet of your room, growing louder with every roll of your hips that connect with his. The light sheen of sweat that coats both of you has you sliding against his thighs, the cool air from the A/C doing nothing as the two of you get lost like this. 

Your second orgasm builds at the same time your body starts to slump against his, your muscles screaming at you for a break. 

“Getting close, huh?” He asks, with a forehead pressed to yours, lips teasing but never touching with each thrust.

All you can do is nod, your eyes not daring to leave his again. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried, a hazel forest turned night, you never wanted to leave the depths of them. 

“So good for me, let go pretty baby, I got you. Let me do all the work.” He picks up his pace, pushing deeper in with every roll of his hips, feeling the way you squeeze around him while your body starts to shake, the high you’d been chasing threatening to take you. 

Holding your gaze, the hand on your back slides up the dip of your spine, curling around the back of your neck. He closes the last bit of space, pulling you to his lips. It’s sloppy and sweet, neither one of you trying to deepen it, just enjoying the way you move together like it was supposed to be like this forever. 

“Fuck- I love you so much it scares me.” Steve admits when he pulls away, his confession is the last straw that sends you over the edge. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes when you cum hard around him for the second time.

Your fingers tangle his hair, crashing your lips into his with tear stained cheeks and he can feel everything you put inside of it just for him. It’s enough to finally let himself unravel for the first time in years with a loud moan and his face buried in your neck. 

It warms deep in your gut when he spills inside of you, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your thighs shake clinging to him, both of you too scared to let go in the irrational fear that you’ll just wake up from a really good dream. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your skin, your nails finding their way to his scalp. He hums against you when you kiss his temple, nuzzling deeper until you feel his lips against the underside of your jaw.

The two of you sit there like this in a mess of tangled limbs. Sweet kisses and even sweeter words all spoken just barely above a whisper until he’s soft enough to slide out on his own. He takes his time cleaning you up after with giant hands that treat you like glass. 

It’s like muscle memory the way he pulls you to his chest under the covers, like this isn’t your first sleepover. The tip of his nose runs along the length of yours with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, kissing you softly with another whispered “you’re so beautiful”.

Streams of sunshine break through your blinds when the two of you finally settle in, buried deep in his arms surrounded by the lingering scent of pine and him, the sounds of his even breathing are enough for you to give into your heavy lids. 

It’s only when you’re on the verge of dreams you’re sure will be filled with him that you hear it:

“I love you, tough girl.”

🌇 -> epilogue

beta’d by @chechelia & dividers by @chechelia

(thank you for everything cece ♥️ and a special thank you to @superblysubpar for betaing the first half of this series, i love you both dearly. & also @carolmunson for always talking to me about our boys, and helping me make this world a little bigger ♥️ ily)

#my writing #all i really want is you series #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington slowburn #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harringont series

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 20

Warnings: angst, kinda mean!Eddie, mentions of an ED, fluff at the end

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Tension arises between you and Eddie when Steve steps back into your life.

Word count: 8k+

A/N: If there's any typos or mistakes, you didn't see them! @hellfire--cult thanks for feeding me ideas, I'm blessed to have you

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You can’t explain the awful feeling in your stomach or the suffocating feeling in your chest.

You have trouble understanding why it all feels so wrong when it’s all you have dreamed of for so long. Steve kissed you in a way he had never kissed you before, not even when you had just started dating did he kiss you with so much passion and love the way he did last night. 

His touch was gentle, his lips were soft and he was so desperate to feel you against him – you were just as desperate and the kiss just showed how much you still love him, how much you still want him, how much you crave him even after everything that happened between you both. But, not even the passion of the kiss could erase the things he had done to you. 

The moment it all caught up to you, the moment something else came to your mind, you pushed him away and you ran, you ran away from him and now you feel guilty for it but you couldn’t stay, you couldn’t stick around any longer. 

You found Robin and Chrissy, blabbering out what happened to you before you begged them to take you home.

Now, you are laying in your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You’re glad that you haven’t had much alcohol last night. The sharp pain in your lower stomach is already bad enough, you wouldn’t want to deal with both a headache and the awful cramps. 

You don’t know how, but you manage to drag yourself out of the comfort of your bed. When the pain in your stomach gets sharper, you suddenly regret the plans that you had made with your friends for today. 

Your heart leaps to your throat when your phone starts ringing. You don’t bother to hurry down the stairs to pick it up. You know who it is but you aren’t ready to talk to him. 

Eddie had done nothing wrong, he had never done anything wrong. 

But the thought of talking to him or even facing him fills you with an awful feeling, one that you can’t describe. You know you can’t run from it, you had made plans with Robin, Chrissy and Eddie. 

You let the phone ring and disappear into the bathroom, you close the door and drown out the voice of the shrill sound. 

You hope that a hot shower will help you get rid of that sickening feeling but your mind can’t rest and every time you think back to that kiss, you feel that immense guilt. Why? You wanted it, you wanted it just as much as he did. 

Steve is single and so are you, there is not a reason for you to feel guilty about something that you had wanted for so long. 

Or, maybe you feel guilty for doing this to yourself… again. Because why are you letting him back in? Why are you giving him the chance to hurt you again? 

It doesn’t matter how he feels about you, it doesn’t matter how much he loves you, it doesn’t matter, not anymore. 

He hurt you too many times for you to just let him back into your life like this. 

You cannot give him the chance to hurt you again. 

The clock strikes 2 when the doorbell rings. You furrow your brows when you look at the watch on your vanity, the one you never wear. Eddie is always on time when it comes to you but never when he picks up Robin first, she is always running late. You take one last look at yourself, fluffing out your hair a little more before you drop the lipgloss on the table. You smoothe down your skirt and reach for your little purse, picking out your favorite cardigan on the way out. 

The doorbell rings again when you walk down the stairs, “I’m coming!” You sigh. 

When you open the door, you don’t expect to see him on the other side. The smile that tugged at your lips instantly falls and tension arises in your body. 

“Hi.”

Steve. 

Your shoulders slump as you take in the sight of him. The soft and apologetic eyes, the hopeful look in his features. The messy hair. 

“Hey,” you whisper. 

“C-Can we talk?” 

You’d rather not. The fear that he will pull you back in is too big. 

“What about?” 

You keep holding onto the door, staring at him as you try to calm the feeling in your chest. He had already walked you home last night, even though you tried to protest against it, he could’ve talked to you then but he stayed quiet, you did too. 

He licks his lips as he looks down nervously. The atmosphere around you had changed yet again. You were ready to let him back into your life. You smiled at him again, you talked to him again, you wanted to be his friend – he ruined it all with a kiss and he knows it.

“I-I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

As you look into his eyes, you know, you just know, he is genuine about it. There’s remorse lingering in them and fear – fear of losing you again. 

“Steve,” you sigh. 

“I-I wasn’t – I wasn’t thinking about how much I would hurt you again a-and, I-I just wanted, no, needed to kiss you again. I messed up, I was a selfish prick. And I promise, it won’t happen again if you don’t want it.” He is pleading with his eyes as he looks down at you, “I loved every second of it b-but I shouldn’t have done it. I-I just, please forgive me, dolly.”

Steve had never begged for forgiveness when you were still together, he had done so many awful things, he hurt you so many times but he never begged for forgiveness, he just dismissed them and moved on and acted like he had never done anything wrong. 

“I won’t ever do it again,” he says, even though kissing you is all he wants to do. “I just, I don’t want to lose you again.”

You don’t want to lose him again either. 

Something about the look in his eyes and the sadness in his voice makes you feel guilty. 

You nod. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “just, promise me that you won’t kiss me again.”

“I promise!” He exclaims with wide eyes, “I promise, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I-I know that we’re not exactly friends but I-I’d love for us to be friends again.”

Right now, you don’t see the Steve that hurt you. You see the boy you used to play hide and seek with. The boy who used to pick flowers for you. The boy who used to pick you up in the afternoons to get sundaes at Benny’s. The boy you made a pact with when you were little kids – that you would stay friends, no matter what. 

And Steve really needs a friend. He doesn’t have Tommy anymore, he doesn’t have Nancy anymore – who is left?

“Steve?” 

“Yes?” He asks, furrowing his brows when you completely dismiss his words. 

“Who do you hang out with?” 

“No one,” he says without a single moment of hesitation. 

It might be his fault but you still feel bad for him. You and Tommy were his only friends and now he has neither one of you left. 

He has no one. 

No friends and not even his parents to come home to – they are never there.

Maybe it’s the image of him alone or maybe it’s just the look in his eyes that makes you feel heartbroken, sad for the man in front of you, the one who used to be your everything. 

Suddenly, you feel the need to keep the promise that you had made as kids. 

You open your mouth to speak but the sound of a car – a van pulling up to your driveway makes you freeze in your spot. Your heart leaps to your throat and you swallow harshly.��

Eddie.

Oh no. You had been ignoring his calls all day, breaking the promise that you would call after every party – you didn’t, at least not last night. You couldn’t. 

He gets out of the van and closes the door. You are so focused on him that you don’t see Chrissy and Robin on the other side of the van. Eddie stares at Steve’s car with a frown on his face and when he looks your way, he freezes. 

Steve notices the panicked look in your eyes, the nervousness is written all over your face. He turns around. Eddie stands there with a frown on his face, anger in his features and disappointment.

Robin and Chrissy share a look when they find Steve on your front porch. They are the firsts to walk towards you, glancing at Eddie nervously. 

You tear your eyes away from Eddie when Chrissy walks up the stairs, brushing past Steve, completely ignoring his presence. 

“Hey!” She smiles but with a questioning look in her eyes. You know what she is thinking; what is he doing here? 

“Hey Chris,” you smile and greet her with a hug. She places her hand on your shoulder when she pulls back, eying the skirt you are wearing, her eyes lighten up, “oh my god, is it the one we bought last week together?” 

“Yes!”

“I love it, it’s so cute!” 

“Don’t you have the same one?” Robin asks, chuckling as she approaches you, eying Steve weirdly. 

He rolls his eyes and sighs. 

“Yes but it’s not the same color, Robs!” 

Robin gives Chrissy a teasing smile before she looks over at you, “hey wild child, are you good after last night?” She tilts her head in his direction, raising her brows at you as though to say ‘what the fuck is he doing here?’ 

You would’ve laughed at the nickname she just gave you if it wasn’t for the intense look that Eddie is giving you as he walks up the stairs as well. You see his clenched jaw, he is angry – angry that you ignored his calls, angry to see him here. But there is also a hint of sadness in his brown orbs and you can’t take it – you can’t stand to see even a sliver of sadness in his eyes. 

He quickly masks it with something else, just the way he always does. 

“Thanks for the call, sweetheart,” he says sarcastically, furrowing his brows with a fake smile on his lips, “I mean for thanks for letting me know that you got home safe. Oh and super nice of you to keep ignoring my calls all day too.” 

You can’t even look at him so you look down. 

Steve’s brows stayed furrowed, the tension and the awkwardness isn’t hard to miss. Eddie looks at him in a way that almost makes him shrink under the weight of his eyes. So he turns back to you. You are blinking, chewing on your bottom lip and breathing heavily. You feel guilty, so guilty that you can’t even look at Eddie. Steve’s heart drops a little. He remembers how he felt when Nancy kissed him, how he couldn’t look into your eyes without feeling like the guilt was eating at him. He felt horrible, even when it wasn’t a kiss he initiated or even let happen, he still felt guilty, just as guilty as you are feeling, right now. 

But you and Eddie are just friends, right? 

Robin and Chrissy look at each other awkwardly. 

“Eddie, I-I’m sorry,” you say softly, “I had the worst headache–”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he mumbles, glancing at Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie’s attitude. 

“Look, can we just go?” Robin asks, wanting to escape the awkward situation. 

“Yes please,” Chrissy mumbles. 

You look up, slowly looking between your friends. You already know that Robin and Chrissy are both going to be too busy with each other and Eddie is clearly pissed – you have seen him angry before but the anger was never directed at you and you know very well how he can be when he’s pissed.

Before you can stop the words from spilling, you look up at Steve. 

“Steve is coming too.”

All four of them turn to you, looking at you wide eyed – as though you had gone crazy. 

Chrissy looks annoyed, Robin looks confused, Eddie looks at you in disbelief and Steve, he stares at you with softened eyes. 

“I invited him,” you lie. 

Steve shakes his head at you, he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to include him, this is not what he came here for. He just wanted to apologize and make things right. 

Robin looks away with a clenched jaw and Chrissy looks down to hide her eye roll. 

“Can I talk to you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, tilting his head. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, nervously. 

You walk past Steve and the girls, clutching your cardigan tightly as you step out on the porch. Eddie places his hand on your lower back and leads you down the stairs and towards his van. 

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to ignore you–”

“Did something happen?” He asks and finally swallows the anger down. He can hear the trembling in your voice, the shakiness of your hand which might be caused by something else. 

He feels the urge to cup your cheeks so he can see your eyes but you keep looking down at the graveled ground. 

You simply shake your head. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asks softly, this time. 

“I was really tired and I drank too much, I wasn’t thinking.”

You raise your head a little, daring to look at him. 

“You’re lucky Robin called me otherwise I would’ve broke into your house.”

Your lips twitch and you break into a smile, “wouldn’t be the first time.”

He can’t help but smile back at you, his anger melting away. 

“I-I’m sorry for inviting him, I know none of you want him around.”

“Then why did you invite him?” He asks, not out of anger but out of curiosity.

You can see the annoyance lingering in his eyes, the same annoyance you saw in Chrissy’s and Robin’s eyes. 

You don’t know why you feel the need to explain yourself but when you look at him, you know you have to. 

“He is just a friend now, I promise. I-I don’t want him like that – he’s just my friend.” 

Eddie’s eyes skip over your face. Your brows are furrowed, eyes pleading and filled with honesty – he just doesn’t understand what the guilt is for. 

“I still don’t understand why he has to be included.”

“He’s alone, Eddie.”

His brows knit together and he shakes his head. 

“No, he isn’t? He’s with Nancy and bitchy Carol and fucktard Tommy–”

“He broke up with Nancy and he doesn’t have friends. Not anymore.”

Oh. 

If there is one thing Eddie knows, it’s loneliness. And he can’t help but pity him. There isn’t much that he knows about Steve except for the things that you told him and his absent parents – it’s something that he unfortunately can relate to. He knows what it’s like to have no one. But fear grows inside of him at the news of Steve being single. 

“Fine, don’t expect me to not mess with him though.”

You roll your eyes, snorting at his words. 

“You two will be menaces to each other.” 

Whenever Eddie felt vulnerable, angry or hurt, he’d put on a mask, he would hide his true feelings by putting on a front. He had never felt that need to do that with you, not until now. 

He watches you with a weird feeling in his chest when you walk back to Steve. 

Robin gives Eddie a pitiful look but the latter refuses to show how insecure or sad he is. He puts on a fake smile and looks over at Steve. 

“I always wanted to take your girl for a ride.” 

Steve’s head snaps towards him, halting his movements, he stops jingling with his car keys and gives Eddie a weird look. 

“Excuse me?” 

Robin and Chrissy look at you before they turn to each other, erupting into a fit of giggles at the double innuendo. 

Eddie briefly glances at you before he nudges his chin into the direction of Steve’s BMW. 

Steve squints his eyes, “yeah, keep dreaming, Munson.”

Eddie chuckles, “I will.”

“Wait, are we taking your car?” You ask, turning to Steve. 

Robin mumbles something under her breath and Chrissy shushes her in response, nudging her shoulder. 

“Can we talk, y/n?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, at the movies.” 

You know exactly what he wants to talk about. He doesn’t want to intrude and he probably feels awkward to be around your friends. 

“Come on.”

Steve sighs, knowing that you won’t take no for an answer, he just gestures for you all to get in his car. He expects you to take the passenger seat but instead, you take Eddie’s hand in yours and lead him to the passenger side. 

“You can sit in the front,” you smile at Eddie as he looks down at you in confusion. 

“I’ll sit in the back with Chris and Robin.”

“Uh–” 

“Let’s go before the movie starts!” You say before anyone else can protest. 

Eddie and Steve share a look, not a very excited or happy one, it’s more one of annoyance. Neither of them want to spend time with the other. But they get in the car nonetheless. 

Chrissy and Robin get in as well, begrudgingly so. 

“Are we still going out for pizza afterwards?” Robin asks, looking between Chrissy, Eddie and you. 

Steve looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing the way you scrunch your face up in disgust. 

“Yeah, we can order some when we get back to my place,” you mumble, “I definitely need some McDonald's today though.” 

Robin raises her brows in surprise, “what, is that hangover food for you or something?” 

Chrissy chuckles beside her. 

“Not exactly.”

No. It’s not your hangover food. Steve knows it. You only ever craved McDonald’s once a month. 

“Hey Robin, did you tell y/n about your new job yet?” She asks, trying to ease the tension in the car. 

Your lips part when you look over at your friend, “wait, what new job? You found something new?” 

“Yes!” Robin says, pretending to be excited, “I’m starting next week.”

“Where?”

“Scoops Ahoy!”

Chrissy smiles, nodding in excitement. 

Steve turns around, looking at you, surprised. His lips twitch and you almost laugh. Eddie glances between the two of you.

“Oh,” he furrows his brows, “the ice cream shop, huh?” 

“Yup.”

Robin doesn’t even acknowledge him properly, just nods into his direction. Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

“So, have you met your co-workers yet?” You ask. 

She twists the rings on her fingers, shaking her head. 

“Nope, I guess, I’ll meet them on monday.”

“You don’t have to,” you giggle.

“Huh?” 

The look of confusion amuses even Steve. 

You point your finger at Steve, who waves at Robin mockingly. 

Her eyes widen, for a moment she looks shocked before she lets out a groan of annoyance, “you gotta be kidding me..” 

“Hey there, co-worker,” Steve says, unable to hold back his chuckle. 

She slumps back, looking very miserable before her eyes light up and she sits back up, “wait! Does that mean that you have to wear one of those sailor uniforms too?”

At that, Steve groans and looks away. 

“Sailor uniforms?” 

“Come by on monday and you’ll see Steve in a pair of skimpy sailor shorts,” Robin winks at you. 

While you and Chrissy laugh and even Eddie joins in, smirking at Steve, “are you gonna wear some slutty shorts, Harrington?”

“Shut up,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. 

“Alright, alright,” Robin mumbles, “can you start the car, dingus? We’re gonna miss the movie!”

“Yeah,” he sighs as he starts the car.

-

The drive to the movies wasn't the most joyful one you’ve been on. Eddie kept pestering Steve about his music choices. Steve kept rolling his eyes at him and Chrissy and Robin kept whispering to you. 

‘Why is he here?’

‘Why did you invite him?’

‘Are you with him again?’ 

‘What about –’

You never got to hear the end of Robin’s question, Chrissy slapped her shoulder before she could finish it. 

Walking into the movie theater has always been a nostalgic feeling to you, it always takes you back to your childhood. It’s oddly comforting. The smell of popcorn and butter makes your mouth water and you can’t wait to dig into the sweet treat. 

After buying the tickets, Chrissy takes your hand and leads you over to the lounge area while the others go to buy the snacks. 

The moment you take a seat, she starts bombing you with questions again. Rambling and throwing one after the other at you, not even giving you the chance to reply. 

“Chrissy–”

“No, please don’t tell me that you’re getting back with him,” she says, crinkling your nose. She watched you cry over him more than once, even before the break up. 

You shake your head, “no,” you mumble, taking a look at the others as they stand by the counter. 

“I just – he’s different now.”

Chrissy scoffs at your words, rolling her eyes. 

“Right, they all change when they get dumped.”

“He didn’t get dumped, he broke up with Nancy – and it doesn’t even matter! I don’t want to date him, I-I just, we’re friends now, I guess.”

Chrissy knows that Steve had always been more than just your boyfriend. He was your best friend, long before she became friends with you. 

“I just don’t want him to hurt you again, y/n.”

You tilt your head and smile at her, “please, don’t worry about me. I won’t let that happen, not again. We’re friends. That’s all.”

She nods at your words and glances at the others. Steve and Eddie seem to be fighting about something, she can’t help but chuckle in amusement. 

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, leaning closer to him to mock him about something. 

“What’s so funny?” 

She tilts her head at you, “well, I guess, Steve tagging along makes things more entertaining.”

With furrowed brows, you take a look at them – Eddie is holding a bag of popcorn in one hand, throwing some at Steve with the other.

“Guys!” You hear Robin’s annoyed voice. 

You snort. 

Robin is the first to come back, annoyance written all over her face,“they are so immature.”

She hands Chrissy the bag of popcorn and a box of Reese's pieces. 

“They’re men, what do you expect?”

“You’re right,” Robin says to Chrissy. 

“Sweetheart, tell Steve that you prefer salted popcorn,” Eddie says when he comes back, “he insisted on sweet popcorn.” 

Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie, stopping next to him. 

“Here we go again,” Robin mumbles under her breath. 

Steve already knows your answer so he doesn’t even look at you expectedly. Eddie seems to look like he knows your answer too and he does, but today it isn’t the right one. 

“Uh.” You get up and look at your best friend with an apologetic look in your eyes as you reach for the bag in Steve’s hand. “I’m sorry…”

Eddie’s eyes flash with confusion and his face falls. If you didn’t feel so guilty already, you would’ve been amused by the look of betrayal on his face. He is so dramatic. You’d be lying if you said that it’s something you don’t love about him though.

“W-What?” He scoffs as his lips set in a pout, “we always get salted popcorn!” 

“Yeah and it’s my favorite but I’m craving something sweet today. I’m sorry, Ed’s.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and looks away from you, “and how did you know that?” He asks Steve. 

Steve could have been smug about it, especially, seeing as it makes Eddie mad. 

He shrugs, “it’s just something that we always used to get when we came here,” he lies. 

Suddenly, you want to run, you want to escape. So you grab your purse and leave the group, pretending to look at the ticket that you were holding all this time. Chrissy gets up to follow you and so does Steve. 

Robin and Eddie stay back though, glancing at each other.

It’s not that they hate him. They don’t. But they know what he did to you, they know how much he hurt you, how much you suffered because of him and he had done nothing to earn your trust back. He just weaseled his way back into your life and you let him. 

And despite his jealousy and the fear of losing you, Eddie still isn’t as angry as Robin is – because he thinks about your words; ‘He’s alone, Eddie.’

Eddie and Robin follow the three of you, he watches you, he watches how you interact with Steve and Chrissy, laughing at something he said. 

“I’m so fucking pissed,” Robin says. 

“Why?” He asks but keeps his eyes on you. 

“Because he will just hurt her again. I can’t believe she feels bad for him after the shit he did to her.”

“Well, can’t really fight her when she’s this stubborn,” Eddie shrugs. 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t want to be friends with her – I mean, when Billy kissed her he was like all rough and shit, and then Heather – fuck, when Heather told me she kissed Steve, I was fuming!” She says, looking up as she groans in anger. 

Eddie feels like someone had dropped a bucket of ice cold water over him. He freezes and halts in his tracks, eyes widening as he feels his heart sinking to his stomach. 

“W-What?” Eddie mumbles. 

Robin stops walking when she notices that Eddie is no longer beside her. She glances at the three of you before she turns back to him and sees the look of confusion and sadness in his eyes – fuck. She should have known. She should’ve known that you didn’t tell him. That is why you didn’t call him. That is why you didn’t pick up any of his calls. 

“S-She kissed Steve a-and Billy?” He asks with widened eyes, “please, tell me you’re joking, Robin.”

Robin’s own eyes widen as well and she starts shaking her head wildly, “no! It was spin the bottle.” 

A part of him feels relieved but the other part is still tense. His eyes begin to hurt. 

He curses at himself for not being there last night. You wouldn’t have to kiss Billy if he was there, you wouldn’t have to kiss Steve. 

“B-But it was just a game, right?”

A guilty feeling overcomes Robin and she already begins to regret that she even mentioned it. 

She wants to say ‘yes, it was just a game’ but Robin was never a good liar and even if she tried, he would know that she is not telling the truth. 

“It was just a game,” Eddie repeats, “her kissing Steve was just a game, right?” 

He doesn’t even care about Billy, the kiss with him was just a game. 

“Eddie–”

“Come on, Robin,” he mumbles, shakily. 

He knows he has no right to be upset over a kiss. You are not even his to lose. But he always hoped, deep down, he always hoped that there might be a chance for him someday. 

“She told me that he kissed her again afterwards – outside.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump, his heart feels heavy in his chest. He feels so stupid to think that you wouldn’t do this. You could only resist him for so long. Steve Harrington still has your heart after all. 

“But Eddie, I don’t think that it meant anything to her. She rejected him and then came to find me.”

Her words do nothing to make him feel better. 

Robin looks at him, anxiously. She knows how resentful Eddie can be when he’s hurt and by the look on his face, she knows that he is deeply hurt. 

“Are you guys coming?” Chrissy asks, interrupting Robin who was just about to say something. 

Eddie looks down with a clenched jaw. He doesn’t even want to be here anymore. 

“Yeah. Come on, Eddie.”

Eddie follows begrudgingly. He knows that he shouldn’t feel that way. It shouldn’t hurt as much. You are still just friends after all, you are not his girlfriend, you are not his, your heart isn’t his. 

You never gave any signs that you wanted him back, not even once. 

He shouldn’t be this upset. He shouldn’t feel so jealous. 

But it isn’t just the kiss or the kisses. 

You have only spent one evening with Steve, kissed him twice and you are already distancing yourself from him. Ignoring him and his calls. He is already losing you. 

His mood only gets worse when he finds you sitting next to him, giggling at something he said to you. He rolls his eyes and sits down on the other side of you. 

You turn away from Steve and towards him, smiling at him, “hey.”

“Hey,” he grumbles. 

He doesn’t even see the creased brows or the saddened look in your eyes, he’s staring at the white screen. 

“How was the campaign last night?” 

“Good.”

“Okay,” you mumble and lean back again, you frown in confusion. Is he this upset over some salted popcorn? 

Steve looks over at Eddie, his jaw is clenched, he blinks faster than usual, he is pissed. He was pissed before but not like this, he seemed to have calmed down on the drive here and even while they were at the counter, buying snacks, he seemed fine and even laughed and teased him, now he just looks angry. 

He glances at Robin who sits next to him, she is chewing on her bottom lip and bouncing her knee, completely ignoring Chrissy’s rambling. The room might be dark, but Steve can see the guilt in her eyes. 

“Hey Robin,” he whispers. 

She rolls her eyes at him, “what?”

“You didn’t tell Eddie about the kiss did you?” He whispers, careful that you aren’t listening. 

She freezes a little and that is enough of an answer. Shit. Steve doesn’t really care about Eddie or about what he feels. He understands him but he still doesn’t care. 

He cares about you. Back at your house, he saw the way you avoided Eddie’s eyes, the way you looked so scared and guilty, you were scared of his reaction that’s why you avoided him. You didn’t want him to know. 

Now he knows and you don’t know that he does. 

“Are you not gonna tell me about it?” Steve hears you asking him. 

Eddie doesn’t even glance at you, he only leans further away from you. 

“I would’ve told you if you picked up the fucking phone last night.”

You’re taken aback by the anger in his words, by the curse words that he never ever directed at you. 

Normally, you would have said something but the guilt that you are still feeling makes you unable to talk. Besides, you are too intimidated to say anything back, scared that he will lash out on you because, clearly, he is deeply upset about something. 

Steve watches how you turn away from him, you roll your eyes but the sadness gives away how hurt you are by Eddie’s attitude towards you. 

Steve glares at Eddie, the urge to whack him across his curly head is strong. 

He nudges your shoulder and gives you a soft smile when you look at him, “you okay?” 

You hesitate, “...yes.”

Eddie narrows his eyes to look at the two of you and he keeps doing it during the whole movie. 

Normally, you would comment on certain scenes, so would he. Normally, you would laugh together and you would lean your head on his shoulder, he would wrap his arm around you. 

Today, he leans away from you and after a few attempts to talk to him or make him laugh, you give up when he keeps brushing you off. You lean away from him as well. He doesn’t comment on anything and neither do you anymore. He is still pissed and you are still tense, your mind is filled with thoughts that you don’t want to think about and despite the painkillers you took earlier, your stomach is still cramping. You are hurting today. 

Despite the funny moments in the movie, you cannot laugh, in fact, you feel like crying – whether it’s your period making you overly emotional or just Eddie.

Eddie is giving you the cold shoulder and it hurts, it fucking hurts. 

He had never done anything like that to you before. 

You have been close friends for almost a year now and not once had he said or done anything to hurt you. But now, he is giving you the silent treatment, the cold shoulder and you can’t stand it because it’s something that Steve used to do to you. 

Whenever he was upset about something, he wouldn’t talk, he wouldn’t tell you what was going on in his mind, he wouldn’t tell you what you did wrong, he would simply give you the cold shoulder and ignore you for the rest of the day.

And now Eddie is doing the same to you. 

Eddie who you thought would never do this. 

The moment the credits start rolling, you jump up from the seat and push past Eddie. You rush out of the room after making up some excuse that you have to use the bathroom. 

“Is she okay?” Chrissy asks Eddie. 

“How would I know?” He snaps at her and gets up as well, leaving the others behind as he makes his way out as well. 

Chrissy scrunches her face up and looks at Robin, “what’s gotten into him?”

“Jesus..” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, “what a brat.” 

“Who?” Chrissy asks as she takes a proper look at his face for the first time today, “Eddie?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re right,” she mutters under her breath as she gets up, “I can’t believe I’d ever agree with you.”

Steve isn’t offended by her words. He knows that your friends never liked him and he doesn’t blame them. They have always been protective of you and of your feelings, something that he wasn’t when you were dating. 

“Let’s just go,” Robin says, “I need the pizza now.”

After some internal pep talk and five minutes of trying to keep yourself from breaking down, you leave the bathroom and step back into the empty hallway – almost empty hallway. You are almost startled by his presence. Out of all your friends, you didn’t expect to see him waiting for you. 

You halt in your tracks. He is looking at you the same way he did when he just came to your place. 

Eddie looks at your eyes, he notices the glassiness right away, whether you cried or not, he feels awful, despite the jealousy and the anger that he is still feeling. 

“Who pissed in your coffee this morning?” You finally snap at him. 

If he wasn’t so on edge already, he would’ve laughed and he would’ve loved the cute frown on your face. 

If he didn’t have a sleepless night, he maybe wouldn’t have been so pissed but the sleepless night was your fault. 

Even through the angry haze, he can see how beautiful you look today – you always look beautiful but something about the way you look today makes his heart race even faster. Maybe it’s the new skirt or maybe it’s the way you did your makeup or the fact that you are wearing his ring – you always wear it but, somehow, it means even more to him that you are wearing it today, even after the kiss with him. 

Eddie never gets to answer your question. 

Your friends join the two of you and interrupt your little tense moment. 

“Let’s go, we’re gonna order some pizza.”

You tear your eyes away from his, sighing as you walk past him. 

“Yeah, can we order? I don’t feel like eating there.”

Robin and Chrissy nod. They pull you away from Eddie and Steve. 

Both men stay behind for a moment, Eddie looks at the ground, a mixture of guilt and anger still deep in his features. 

Steve wants to say something and he opens his mouth but decides against it. Anything that he will say, will only anger the metalhead even further and he doesn’t want to risk making things worse.

So he turns around and walks away. 

You are surprised to see Robin and Steve sharing a knowing look when you all get back into his car, they both take a look at Eddie, who is silent, unlike on the drive here. 

Chrissy leans closer to you, she cups her hand over her mouth, “did something happen between you and Eddie?” She whispers, giving you a look of concern and confusion. 

You shake your head at her and shrug. You are just as confused. 

Her eyes soften when she sees the worry and the hurt in your eyes, she gives you a sad smile and takes ahold of your hand, trying to comfort you. 

Your lips twitch, you squeeze her hand back before you turn away, looking out the window instead. 

The day started off good, the sun was shining and the breeze was warm but, just like your mood, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. The clouds appeared like dark shadows over the pretty blue sky and the breeze turned into a harsh wind. It isn’t raining yet but you know it’s about to start falling any minute.

Somehow, the weather always matches your mood. 

“I thought we were getting pizza?”

You were so focused on watching the clouds move, you didn’t pay attention to where you were driving. 

Your eyes light up a little when you see the McDonald’s sign. 

“Y/n doesn’t want pizza,” Steve says as he pulls into the drive through, “she wanted burgers.”

For a moment, you forget about Eddie’s anger, the pain in your stomach or the guilt. Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you have been craving burgers and fries all day. 

“Oh! Fries too, please, Stevie!” 

You don’t hear Eddie’s scoff over Steve’s chuckle, “I know, dolly.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and clenches his fist.

“Does anyone want anything?” 

Eddie mumbles a ‘no’. 

Robin simply shakes her head and Chrissy leans closer to Robin to look out the window, reading the menu board. 

“Oh, can I have a strawberry milkshake?” Chrissy asks shyly, already reaching for the walled in her purse but you stop her, placing your hand over hers. 

“I got it, Chris.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Steve mumbles, looking over his shoulder, he glances at you both, “I’ll pay.”

She raises her brows, forcing a smile as she mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’. 

Robin is awfully quiet and you just notice it now when Chrissy leans back and you get to take a look at her. She keeps running her fingers through her hair, looking out the window with tense shoulders, just like Eddie. 

What the hell is going on?

Chrissy looks just as clueless as you though.

When Steve hands you the bag and the milkshake, a few minutes later, you almost squeal in excitement. Chrissy laughs at the look on your face and takes the milkshake from your hand. 

“Do you wanna share?” She asks, offering you the drink after taking the paper off the straw. 

“No thanks, I need the fries now.” You rip open the bag, the smell of greasy food makes your mouth water, “I’m so hungry,” you mumble as you reach for the fries. 

“Want some?” You ask Chrissy and Robin, “I’ll share, it’s too much for me anyways.” 

Robin shakes her head, “nah, I’ll wait for the pizza.”

Chrissy takes some, “you’re missing out, Robin.”

“Right?” You mumble through a mouthful, “you gotta dip them, Chris.”

“Not in a strawberry milkshake though!” She laughs, “it’s gotta be vanilla.”

Steve glances at you through the rearview mirror. His heart flutters when he sees the smile on your face. 

“Do you guys want some?” You ask, offering some to Steve and Eddie.

“It’s all yours, hangry,” Steve chuckles, using an old nickname. 

“I’m not hangry!” You slap his shoulder. 

“You want some Eddie?” You ask softly. 

He shakes his head, continuing to give you the cold shoulder. So he really is mad at you. Eddie never says no to fries, he steals some from your plate every time you go out to eat – or he finishes the ones that are left on your plate when you get too full to finish eating them yourself. 

You exhale and slump back in your seat, feeling sad all over again. 

You look down at the fries, suddenly, not feeling as hungry as you did before. Still, you continue snacking on the fries, choosing to save the burger for later. 

Chrissy looks at you worriedly when you frown and look down at your food, sadly, not as happy as you did a few moments back. She knows that you had been struggling in the past few months, you haven’t been eating as much and whenever you do, you quickly lose your appetite. Whether it’s the past memories that take away your appetite or something else – you have a problem. A problem that Eddie usually tries to help you with. 

She doesn’t know what happened but she can’t help but glare at the metalhead. 

But Robin is acting off too, so when you finally arrive back at your place and you all walk into your house. Chrissy takes Robin’s hand and pulls her away to the dining room to talk to her. 

“We’re gonna order the pizza!” Chrissy shouts as they disappear in the hallway. 

“Uh – okay.” 

Throwing your cardigan and your purse on the dresser, you walk into the living room. 

“Should I get some drinks?” Steve asks you, following you. 

“I can do it–”

“No, sit down, I’ll get some,” Steve mumbles, giving you a smile before he walks past you, disappearing in the kitchen. 

You reach for the remote to turn on some music on the TV, you always need the background noise, even in a room full of people. From the corner of your eye, you see him. You are surprised that he’s still here, you figured that he’d take his van and leave the moment Steve parked the car in your driveway. 

A part of you wants to say something but the other part doesn’t. You don’t want to give him the silent treatment back, you are just scared of his explanation. 

On the way home, you kept trying to figure out what made him so angry. 

Did he know about the kiss? Did Robin tell him? Is he upset about that?

Even if he knows, he can’t be upset about it – even when you think about what Nancy said to you, it still makes no sense. Why would he be upset? You aren’t together. You are not his girlfriend. 

Then again, it doesn’t explain your guilty feeling either. Just like you aren’t his, he isn’t yours. You have no reason to feel so guilty about kissing Steve – you can kiss whoever you want. 

Besides, you went on a date with Ray and even kissed him before he turned into a major douchebag – Eddie never got upset about the fact that you wanted to go on a date. So he can’t be upset about this either, right?

It has to be something else. 

Is he sick of you?

Did he finally realize that you aren’t worth his time?

Did he have a sudden change of heart just like Steve did when he went from loving boyfriend to awful boyfriend overnight?

Did your radio silence piss him off that much?

He is still standing by the doorway. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him and of course, it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You still don’t say anything though, too afraid to make things worse. 

The tugging in your chest gets even worse, if that is even possible. 

“What’s wrong, dolly?” 

All appetite is lost the moment you hear the mocking in his voice. You still blame your emotions on your period but deep down, you know that it’s not that. 

You feel the coil in your throat, the hollow feeling in your stomach and the sickness in your chest. You don’t know whether you want to throw up or break into tears. 

You can’t take this, not from him. 

His words weren’t even bad or offending in any way but to hear the tone in his voice, to receive the cold shoulder from someone who you wouldn’t hesitate to give your everything to, makes you feel like you’re taken back to Halloween – where it all fell apart.

“Did you have fun last night?” 

His question makes you frown. For the first time, you look at Eddie with a glare. 

“I did.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he scoffs and looks away. 

What the hell?

Chrissy and Robin walk into the room, both looking a little tense. 

“Uh, pizza is ordered,” Chrissy says awkwardly. 

She notices your heavy breathing and the way you are blinking quickly. The way you keep glancing at Eddie who refuses to look at you. 

Steve comes back into the room with a few cans of coke, he places them on the small table. Steve’s presence seems to anger Eddie even further and Chrissy is starting to get annoyed by the attitude that spawned out of nowhere. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Chrissy asks you. 

Eddie is not looking at you. He isn’t even glancing at you. He doesn’t care. Why doesn’t he care anymore? What happened? 

Your eyes burn. You can’t sit here any longer, you get up and walk away. 

“Hey, do you not want to eat your food?” Steve asks, pointing to the takeout on the table. 

“Not hungry,” you mumble. 

“But, you haven’t eaten all day!”

Suddenly, Eddie feels even worse than he did before. He let his anger control him, all fucking day. 

Steve sees your trembling lip and the tears in your eyes when you look back for a split second before you brush past Eddie and disappear into the hallway. 

Chrissy calls out for you, jumping up from the couch, she runs after you, bumping into Eddie on purpose with a death glare. 

He looks down with a sigh. 

Steve has had enough of his behavior. He shakes his head in disbelief before he walks over to him, startling Eddie by grabbing his shoulder roughly, pushing him forward. 

“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie snaps at him, trying to push Steve’s hands off of him but the latter has a strong grip on him and he pushes him towards the entrance, ripping the door open, he pushes him out. 

For a moment, Eddie thinks that he’s getting kicked out. 

Robin jumps up, looking panicked as she watches them both leaving the house. She follows behind, opening the door that Steve just slammed shut. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Eddie asks, pushing Steve’s hands off with force.

“What’s my problem?” Steve chuckles in disbelief, pointing to himself. 

Eddie scoffs and looks away. 

“Get your fucking jealousy in check before you keep hurting her!” Steve yells over the harsh rain that is falling. 

“She is not – I-I’m not..”

“Yes, you fucking are. You were fine before the movie, so I’m guessing you –” he points at Robin, who breaks eye contact right away and slumps, “told him something and I have a pretty fucking good idea of what it is!”

Eddie’s shoulders slump, he looks down, his eyes are burning. 

“It’s just–” Eddie’s words get cut short because what can he say? How can Eddie tell him he is mad because he can’t compare himself to Steve Harrington? How can he tell him that he isn’t just jealous but also hurting? How can Eddie say anything at all when he has no chance whatsoever? 

For a split second, Steve is able to see through Eddie, the look in his eyes gives it all away. 

“Eddie,” he sighs, hurting himself with what he is about to say. He could lie to him, he could leave it all like this, be your knight in shining armor and pick you up after today but he won’t use Eddie’s insecurities and your vulnerability to weasel his way back into your heart. 

Steve looks up, taking a deep breath. 

“She pushed me away when I kissed her and I think we all know why.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen. 

“Now get your ass up there and fix it,” Steve says angrily. 

A million questions run through Eddie’s mind but now is not the time to ask them. Steve won’t take no for an answer. He simply nods before he walks back into the house. 

Robin crosses her arms over her chest, she is impressed by Steve. She’s a little surprised, she expected a fight to break out, she didn’t expect this to be cut… so short.

“Good job, Dingus.” 

He rolls his eyes at her, “let’s get inside.”

Chrissy is standing in front of the bathroom door, leaning against it as she keeps trying to convince you to come out. 

“Please, y/n,” she sighs, softly. 

Eddie eyes the cheerleader warily, for someone with such a kind face, she sure gave him the kind of death glare that even intimidated him. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“Can I try?”

She turns around at the sound of his voice, snapping her head up with a frown. Her brows knit together, her mouth twists and she rolls her eyes but steps away from the door nonetheless. 

“Yeah,” she mumbles, “don’t mess it up, Munson.”

That is a threat. Yeah, with the look on her face, it definitely is a threat. 

He really messed up. 

He knocks on the door softly, closing his eyes as he tries to calm his breathing. 

“Sweetheart,” he speaks with a much gentler voice than before, “can we talk?”

Silence. 

“Please?”

He opens his eyes when the faint click of the lock sounds through the hallway. He grabs the doorknob and twists it, he opens the door and steps inside. You are sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wiping away the tears that keep rolling down your cheeks – because of him. 

But why? Why would you cry over him? 

You look up at him with glossy eyes and you rise to your feet. 

“D-Do you hate me Eddie?” 

His eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate, he immediately pulls you into a tight hug. His own heart breaks, not once in his life did he think he would hurt you but, here he was, causing you pain because of his own selfishness.

He can feel you clinging to him, your arms are wrapped tightly around him, your tears are seeping through his shirt but he doesn’t mind. 

“No baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid,” he sighs, not even noticing the nickname that rolled off his tongue so naturally. 

“I don’t want to lose you, Eddie.”

The trembling in your voice and the sadness makes his heart hurt even more. 

Not once in his life was anyone ever scared to lose him, yet, here you are, the girl that he loves, scared to lose him. You could have anyone, you could have Steve but you are scared to lose him. 

Whether it’s platonically or not – you are scared to lose him and that has to mean something. 

“You won’t lose me, I promise, you won’t,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head. “I’m so sorry – fuck,” he blinks his own tears away, hating himself for what he did. “I’m such an asshole.”

You only hug him tighter in response. 

“No, you’re not,” you mumble, “just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”

“I’m so–”

“Stop apologizing. Just hold me,” you mumble into his chest, “we can talk later.”

“Okay,” he whispers, hugging you even tighter. 

This is what you need. To be held and comforted by him. 

You lean your chin on his chest and look up at him, “will you stay with me tonight?” 

For some reason, your question has him stunned.

You have had sleepovers before, many sleepovers in fact. But, something feels different. He doesn’t know what it is but something has shifted. 

Something has shifted between the two of you after last night, he felt it earlier already and he feels it now as well.

His heart thumps wildly in his chest and he’s sure that you can feel it because he can feel yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay with you.”

-

tagging mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @succubusmunson @chrissymjstan @somethingvicked

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #stranger things angst

[harrysonlylover]

Karma Rules (Mechanic Harry Part 6)

Summary: A phone call from Niall and its aftermath changes your perspective. Can a fairytale be fixed?

Warnings: alcoholism, drunk harry, over drinking, unhealthy coping, miscommunication, angst, mentions of alcohol abuse, hangover.

Please do not read if these trigger you.

Wc: 8k

A/n: Please keep in mind that this is just fan-fiction and some bits about the hangover may not be 100% true, as every individual is different than the other and deals with it in an another way.

Rereading part 5 is good for refreshing your mind!

This is also the final part!

Part 5

When it came to receiving good and bad news, people generally preferred getting the bad news first so that the good ones would soothe them. You followed that preference as well, but you didn’t always have a choice.

Not when you moved away from home, not when your car broke down, not when you discovered the truth about your “job”.

And certainly not right now.

The phone was still pressed to your ear, Niall’s voice was coming out muffled and incoherent. Your heart was banging against your ribcage, and still, the blood barely reached your other organs. You couldn’t move, or put two and two together. Not even ask him what happened.

The room was suddenly dark despite the lit light bulbs in every corner, the clock necklace that you didn’t even get to thank Harry for was ticking around your neck. It was the only sound you could hear as if it was torturing you on purpose.

Tick tock.

A reminder that whatever happened to Harry was your fault. Maybe if you had stayed—

It wasn’t an ideal timing for your brain to taunt you and make you feel pathetic. Niall’s voice was calling for you, asking if you were listening but you were simply trying to pull yourself back to the present.

Your body fell against the sofa, and you dug your nails into the cushions. The clock was still piercing your ears because you could grab it right now and reverse it but you won’t go back in time to change whatever had happened.

What did he get himself into?

“Are you listening to me?” Niall’s panicked voice urged you to focus. You were obliged to ignore the nausea and the guilt your brain was throwing already. Because that’s how things went every time, you only needed a simple situation for your brain to torture you.

“Can you repeat what you said?” Your throat was as dry as the desert. You thought about standing up and getting a glass of water, but you’re not sure if your hands would be able to hold it.

“It’s Harry! He’s fucking drunk—way too drunk. He doesn’t drink Y/n, he hates alcohol.” His tone told you all you needed to know. It pained Niall to say it like he was on the verge of tears.

Was he talking about the same Harry that drank herbal teas and scolded your food choices? You were somewhat worried that he might have gotten into a car accident at a race, but he didn’t. So why does this feel worse?

“I—what?” It wasn’t the best you could say in a conversation like this, but it was better than the radio silence.

“Listen, he’s in a really bad state. He’s lucky that he’s a bit conscious.” He sighed, clearly worried about his friend.

It was nearly nine, not so late in the evening. For how long was he drinking to get to this state? You never saw him drink nor did he open the subject. Your legs moved before you processed what you were doing.

“I’m coming.” You spoke as you headed toward your bedroom.

“I didn’t want to stress you, and I know you’re wondering why I chose to call you but he’s been mumbling things about you.” You stopped in your tracks at his last sentence, your fingers placed at the light switch, too numb to move.

“What did he say?” You whispered in a shaky voice.

“I—don’t know, it was all weird and—“ His voice was cut off as his attention turned to Harry. He mentioned some things about drinking water and lying back. The last thing you expected was for Harry to speak.

“Did ya know that she smells like strawberries?” It took him longer to say the sentence than normal. It came out slurred with hiccups, and a small laugh.

“Shit—drink water H.” You could hear Niall pouring him a water cup.

“Sweeettt. Y/n is sweet.” Niall didn’t have to answer your previous question, you were witnessing it yourself.

It is said that a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, and that scared you more than it comforted you. Niall was trying to soothe Harry, and get him to have that cup of water but to no avail.

“I’m not nice. She deserves nice.” His words weren’t as coherent but you caught some stuff through the speaker as you put on a random jumper and sweatpants.

“I’m coming Niall.”

“You don’t have to—I’m here.” He moved away from Harry whose voice got distant but was still mumbling stuff.

“No, I’ll be there shortly.” You hung up before he could object.

It would take you around 15 minutes on your bike, normally you avoided going out when it was dark but you didn’t have any rational thoughts swimming in your head.

Your mind was consumed by him the entire road. Why would he do that? Just because you left? But again—you were no one to him. Just an employee. So why did he mention you and blurt out weird stuff?

He might have kissed you and let down his guard a couple of times but that didn’t mean anything, right?

It’s surely not a big deal, everyone probably knew that your hair smelled like strawberries, that you’re sweet, and deserved someone nice. Or did they not?

You had nothing in mind on what to expect, you didn’t even know what you were planning to do—but you weren’t going to sit around at home while he was in this state.

All the overthinking kept you busy until you reached his house. The little yellow home that reminded you of warmth, is now radiating coldness. You dreaded going inside, fearing what would be awaiting you.

Was it your fault? Did that mean that you mattered to him?

You got off your bike, grabbed your bag, and headed slowly towards the front door. Niall must have left the door slightly open for you, but before entering—something jumped at your legs.

You looked down to see an antsy Snowbun circling around your feet.

“What are you doing out here?” Per your knowledge, he should be asleep in his small bed by now. You picked him up and cradled him in your hands.

“Are you running away from Harry or Niall?” The latter was his sworn enemy. Snowy replied by twitching his ears, earning a smile from you.

“Let’s get inside, shall we?” You scratched the top of his head before turning the doorknob and entering.

The once vibrant house filled with music sounding from the record player, and the smell of home-cooked meals was now dull and cold. It could be the open windows allowing the night breeze to sneak in, or the absence of Harry’s energy.

Everything was a mess.

The living room was untidy, and there were broken shards of glass around the floor with the smell of whiskey lingering in the air.

It wasn’t necessarily dirty, but it somewhat reflected Harry’s state, as his house could mimic his inner feelings. Snow Bun jumped out of your hand and headed towards his bed in the corner.

For a hot minute, you thought that Niall left considering how empty the house felt, until you heard his voice coming from Harry’s room.

“Hey—just lay here.” Niall seemed like he was trying to convince Harry to rest. You sneaked a glance inside the room, only to find Harry attempting to get up and walk—towards you.

“Not dreaming.” He let out a small laugh upon seeing you.

Niall sent you a soft smile before directing his attention back to Harry.

You have never seen him in such a state. His face looked like he had aged a hundred years, his eyes were tired and hollow, and he was barely conscious.

You stood motionless, trying to process his situation, what he had done and most importantly why.

You wanted to step forward and assist Niall who was lifting him to the bed, but your body was stuck in its place. You have seen your fair share of situations and were always unaffected, but Harry had an unusual effect on you, and maybe—you did too.

“Shortcake.” He hiccuped again, accepting the cup of water this time. He took two sips only and rested his head against the headboard.

You were aware of his direct stares, but you didn’t speak or move. You bit your nails as Niall tucked him under the duvet. He was slowly dozing off by the minute, with less mumbling that you didn’t quite catch.

The room went silent except for the sound of crickets coming from the window. You stole a glance at Harry who sounded so relaxed while sleeping despite his disturbed state.

You let out a sigh of relief once you were sure that he slept, at least he would get some rest.

“How much did he drink?” You whispered to Niall with a scratchy voice.

“The whole fucking bottle.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and motioned for you to leave the room.

You closed the bedroom door and followed him into the living room. He began picking up the shards of glass, so you kneeled to help him.

“How did you know that he was drunk?” Niall was visibly upset with what went down, he was his close friend after all.

“I didn’t… I just happened to pass by. I haven’t heard from him in a while.” He shook his head in disbelief, so you assumed that whatever this was, it wasn’t common.

You picked up the remaining pieces and disposed of them in a bag. You arranged the rest of the living room silently with Niall, but the silence was just too loud.

“Niall?” He turned his head to you.

“Yeah?”

“Most people get drunk—like it’s not right but it happens. Why did you freak out?” Your curiosity was getting the best out of you. You weren’t dismissing Harry’s state—it just didn’t make sense.

Niall dropped the broom to the ground and took a seat on the couch.

“Harry has had a rough past y’know? It wasn’t ideal.” You sat down as well, giving him your attention.

“He had an abusive alcoholic father. It’s not my place to say much, but it left an impact on him.” He spoke as if Harry was his biological brother. It was clear that he cared for him deeply.

You swallowed down your throat upon Niall’s confession. He hated alcohol. It must have reminded him of darker days. He barely opened up about his childhood to you, but many things clicked for you.

“I’m sorry that I troubled you. I was just shocked because he never got drunk, let alone drank in the first place.” He clasped his hands together and spoke with sorrow.

“He was in the worst state ever. I couldn’t understand why he kept talking about you.” He swiped his hand through his hair and gulped down a cup of water.

“What did he say?” Your voice was timid and small like you were dreading to know the truth. It may deny or confirm something.

“Stuff about you being an angel, that he messed up?” He shook his head, trying to remember some details.

“Also that you were too delicate or something.” He scrunched his face at his lack of memory, unaware of your expression.

Is that what Harry thought of you? It was so overwhelming to find out all of this within a short time frame when his actions did not reflect what Niall was saying.

You didn’t doubt that Harry was a good man, not at all. But to hear these words so casually, as if they weren’t the sweetest things you have been told—

“Sorry—I didn’t know he had feelings for you.” Niall broke the silence.

“Feelings?” You questioned, attempting to control the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I mean—the way he spoke about you…it was emotional. I called you because I thought he’d need you.” He scratched the top of his head, rethinking what he had done.

“It might have been something destructive because he never drank—“ He didn’t complete his sentence, and stared at the wall instead.

He must have caught on to your cluelessness and took a step back. You were picking at your nails with your head lowered down. Everything hit you like a rollercoaster and you needed space.

“You don’t have to stay Niall. I can manage.” You assured him.

“I can stay, I don’t mind.”

“You’ve done a lot already. You’re a good friend.” You tipped him a smile and he understood the cue.

“If you need anything, just call me.” He stood up and walked towards the door, before giving you one last glance and leaving.

Conveniently, Snow Bun ran in your direction as soon as Niall was out of the door. The little bunny jumped on your lap and got himself all cozy.

You instinctively patted his head and cradled him. A few tears fell down your cheeks against your will. You pushed back everything you were thinking of and walked to the refrigerator.

“Are you hungry? Harry probably couldn’t feed you.” Just the thought itself made you incredibly sad for no reason. Perhaps, it’s the fact that underneath it all, Harry was just a guy who loved his privacy and spent time with his bunny.

The more you recalled nice gestures that he did, the more tears fell. You weren’t sobbing, but everything was hitting you all at once. Whatever you processed this evening was hard to consume, even in small doses.

Snow Bun immediately began nibbling at the strawberry you offered him. You couldn’t help but recall when Harry fed him in front of you, it was a happier night.

You’re glad that he feels safe to take food from you. Was he able to sense Harry’s mood?

You offered him another strawberry which he ate comfortably like a baby. You placed two more for him in his bowl and cleaned up around the house to pass the time.

There wasn’t much to do, a few dirty pans, messy pillows and blankets all over the place, and a bit of Snowy’s dry food that fell out of his plate.

You opened more windows and lit a candle to allow the whiskey smell to fade. Thankfully, the broken glass was the first thing you and Niall cleaned up—but you were still skeptical about it.

You picked up the broom that Niall dropped earlier and cleaned under the couch to make sure that there was no glass left.

You felt a sharp pain in your chest upon wondering how it shattered. Did he lose his balance and drop it? Or did he do it out of frustration?

Your train of thought was interrupted when the broom collided with something. You could feel that it wasn’t glass, so you pulled it in your direction and reached your hand under the couch to grasp it.

It was a notebook.

It was already open, and your eyes landed on what was written. You flinched, feeling disrespectful for taking a glance despite not helping it. You wouldn’t want someone to look through your journal—but your eyes were glued to the words.

A few lines were scribbled at the top of the page including your name with Harry’s handwriting that you memorized so well. Yet, these lines were blurred out due to the scribbling—but you could make out the word ‘apricity’.

Underneath them were the clear unscratched lines that made you let out a silent gasp.

Starry haze, crystal ball

Somehow, you’ve become some paranoia

Just like a nepenthe

But your gift is wasted on me

You allowed your fingers to touch the paper, to make sure that this was real and that you weren’t hallucinating.

You quickly moved on to the lines under them and your knees nearly buckled.

I was thinking about who you are

Your delicate point of view, I

Was thinking about you

The last line ended on a whim and was more of a question than a sentence.

Just you?

You closed the notebook and threw it on the couch like it was poison. You were breathing heavily and your legs carried you straight to the refrigerator for the cup of water you’ve needed since Niall called.

You gulped down two cups frantically as if it would help you process or erase what you read.

Finding out that Harry most likely drank because of you, and might have had feelings for you was enough. But to see that he wrote lyrics about you?

Maybe it was scary because it was a concrete confirmation. It shut down the overthinking and the endless questions just with a glance at a piece of paper.

The suffocation was threatening to close up your chest, not caring about the soft night breeze and the lit candle that smelled like Harry.

It seemed as if his secrets were unfolding with any action that you took. There’s only so much you could handle in one night, so you laid down on the couch. You will sleep here, you won’t leave him alone.

You covered yourself with a blanket and were soon joined by Snow Bun who made himself comfortable next to you.

You contemplated grabbing a book from your bag but even that doesn’t seem to work anymore.

You wondered what could soothe a person if not books.

Still, there wasn’t much you could do. It was close to eleven and you would soon fall asleep—but until then your mind would get the chance to torment you.

What will you do when he wakes up? Will you have the courage to ask him about everything? Does he even want you around?

These questions and many more went through your head as you shifted on the couch. Though, that seemed to annoy Snowy who was trying to sleep, unaware of all the troubles.

Being a bunny is quite easy. ——————————————————

Harry struggled to open his eyes. His brain didn’t aid him and was not functioning properly, the same way car engines fail to roar. A tiny grunt left his lips, he was attempting to regain his consciousness, despite being overwhelmed.

A sharp pain stemmed from his head, the one people get from being beaten with a bat. He felt out of place as if he switched bodies with a completely different person who neglected themselves.

His bones and muscles didn’t ache—but the fatigue was embedded in all of his atoms.

Another grunt was elicited, followed by a hiss. The morning sun sneaked through the window, casting its light on his tired figure. It burned his eyes and worsened the pounding headache he felt.

His mouth was dry like a man who hadn’t taken a sip in days, he could feel it with every grunt as he swallowed down his throat in an attempt to hydrate his system.

“What the—“ He mumbled, forcing his eyes to open again as he collected the energy to raise his hand and shield his face from the sun.

The neurons in his brain worked hard to transmit signals. He needed just one memory to recall—a reason even to understand what led him to this state.

He buried his face in the pillow, relieving himself from the sting of the morning light. He groaned as the headache became unbearable.

What did he do last night?

The few cells that got to work urged him to connect things and conclude a reason—the headache, fatigue, and memory loss all pointed towards the unthinkable.

But no, he wouldn’t. Right?

He possessed great self-control, confided his sister in when he felt suffocated, and would never allow himself to resort to a destructive outlet.

No matter how torn he felt, how maimed and beaten his heart was—he prided himself in needing no one and repressing his sadness.

Right?

His muscles worked together to lift his body slowly. He supported himself on the mattress with his hands and observed his surroundings with squinted eyes.

Everything seemed normal, nothing was out of place. The bedroom was tidy and neat, the way he always maintained it.

Yet, his attire had him confused. He never went to sleep with his work clothes, he either slept shirtless or with a clean tank top.

He couldn’t help but bring his hand to his temple. The pain was unbearable, flashing like thunder and echoing in his skull.

Attempting to piece some bits of information together was a tough task, let alone when he couldn’t quite remember whatever went down the previous day.

His senses gave him a push until his brain connected some dots and realized what his mouth felt like besides dryness.

It was Whiskey.

“No—“ It would be a reasonable justification. His body warned him when he first opened his eyes, but he was in denial.

Fatigue, muscle aches, headache, thirst, and in his case— feeling like absolute shit.

“What did I do?” He groaned, in response to his pain and stupidness.

He’s had his fair share of atrocious headaches and fatigue, yet he was never subjected to immense emotional maim that led him to this state. Not even in his younger years. He vowed to never touch a bottle in his life. He had a few beers as a teenager, but that was the extent.

He never wished to become a spitting image of his sperm donor or inflict harm upon others using alcohol.

Something that he must have done.

Recalling the cause of his ache was effortless; not because of its intensity or his functioning memory. But because he simply could never push someone like you out of his mind, even when he was in a foggy state.

“Y/n.” He whispered under his breath.

He was in shambles upon reading your letter. He needed an outlet to empty his pain. A pain that he inflicted upon himself and you.

It was an internal battle; treating you like shit to push you away, when all he wanted was to hold you and kiss your soft lips.

How could he even dare to have you? The most delicate being he ever met. You were an angel that fell on earth accidentally. Maybe god was searching for you, but Harry wanted you selfishly to himself.

He didn’t deserve you, well no one did actually—but a boy could dream.

Your soft aura and charming personality would never fit in a million years with his dark heart and destructive thoughts. You were so delicate that he feared breaking you, and if that ever happened, he’d never forgive himself.

He was a weak man when it came to you. Your contagious smile, books, warm personality, and kind manners. Love was never on his agenda, he didn’t even have any vision for his future. Nothing but his career maybe, but of course, you’d tip his scales over.

You became his dream, someone that he wished he could have. He didn’t realize that his heart was betraying him, leading the tide against his rational thoughts.

In some way, he was a prisoner of your presence. You simply had to walk inside the room he was in, and all his problems would evaporate.

Even when he first met you, despite his cold tone and expression, he was deeply enamored by you. He never wanted to find out information about a person this bad, he needed to know who you were.

He didn’t consider himself a dedicated reader, sometimes a book here and there but—a philosophy he once read stuck with him.

The philosophy of Descartes, his dualism, and the notion of mind and body being distinct, yet intimately related. It was logical to him to a certain extent but as of late, Harry created his philosophy.

The mind and body were foes; often joining together to set up a scheme. This scheme was to torture Harry. His body belonged near you, but his heart kept him up at night. They were allies for once, simply to dismantle his sanity and imprint invisible bruises on his body.

And so they managed to trap him, render him a fool in front of you, and destroy any small chance he might have had.

He gathered all the energy left in his fatigued body and got up from his warm bed. The sun’s rays burned his eyes yet embraced his skin lovingly.

He wondered why Snow Bun wasn’t next to him, it was against his habit but maybe he was just roaming around the planted strawberries again.

The first thing up was brushing his teeth, getting rid of the awful smell was essential. He hoped he wouldn’t have to do this again.

The sight of his tired face in the mirror had him double checking. When did it get so unbearable?

For most people, this was barely an issue—but for Harry, it tipped his life upside down.

He doesn’t go well with emotions, communication or even figuring out what the other person wants.

“Shit.” He splashed cold water on his face before grabbing a clean cloth and drying it.

He would need a while to feel better again, to accept what had happened, and avoid leading himself to that state.

He had a quick cold shower to give himself the illusion of being clean, even when his system wasn’t. The fresh set of clothes and cologne elevated his mood, and the sting of the water helped with his headache.

He needed a nutritious meal despite the nausea bubbling in his stomach. Besides, where the hell was Snowy?

Harry reached for the doorknob as wet droplets from his hair fell on the ground. He barely advanced a few footsteps before stopping in his tracks.

He had an inkling that his feelings toward you, and the letter you left influenced his actions last night. But, seeing you asleep on his sofa with his bunny cuddled to your chest was not on his list.

He stood in the doorway with barely a few breaths coming in and out of his nose. As if a time traveler somehow arrived at this moment and froze his body.

Could he still be dreaming?

He wasn’t worthy of your presence, not even in his dreams.

He didn’t even deserve the wasted sun rays that hugged him earlier. They should’ve poured their focus on you, just like they were doing this instant. Your skin was covered with gold, somehow glistening more than any other human being. This is how an angel sleeps, he thought.

He was so jealous of the sun, envious even. It got to kiss every inch of your skin and keep you warm, unlike him.

The golden color stretched to your perfect hair, shut eyelids, and soft raspberry mouth. Your chest rose slowly, even your breathing was delicate.

He didn’t blame Snow Bun for liking you one bit, even a bunny knew how pure you were.

He didn’t mean to stare like a creep, but funnily enough, his pet blew his cover. Snowy awoke from his peaceful sleep and disrupted you in the process.

You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the moving bunny who had enough sleep. It seemed like you did too as your body felt satisfied with the hours you rested during.

The room was bathed in sunlight and warmth, and surprisingly to your right—was Harry standing motionless.

“Harry! You’re up.” Your legs moved before your brain processed anything. You were up on your feet in no time, facing a confused yet tired Harry.

“H—hi.” He swallowed down his throat.

“How are you feeling?” Your hair was all over the place and you couldn’t tell what your face looked like, but you had to check up on him.

The night went by quickly, and the next thing you knew, he was standing next to you, hopefully sober.

“Pretty shit.” He pressed his lips together, ignoring Snowy’s thumbing on the floor.

For an unknown reason, his response elicited a tiny giggle out of your lips. One that eased his headache.

“I—“

“Do you remember anything from last night?” You beat him, feeling way too curious.

You had a plethora of things to say and discuss, stuff you should’ve said long ago.

“Just a bit. Not the entire picture.” He bit on his tongue, feeling the blood drain from his body.

Standing in front of you, seeing you, and hearing a question that was brought up yesterday triggered a sudden flashback.

How Niall dragged him to bed as you stared at him with fear and worry.

So he fucked up again.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out before you managed a response.

“What for? You barely remember what happened.” You shrugged.

“Everything.” He averted his gaze downward in shame.

It was out of a movie scene, two individuals facing each other in a sunlit room, way too stuck in their heads to see right what’s in front of them.

This moment was ageless. Your torn expression and his sorrowful face. Your sympathy and his regret. A powerful duo indeed.

Only in instants like these was silence positively uncomfortable. The silent eye contact back and forth, uncaring for the ticks of the clock, or what lies behind the eyes. The invitation to open your hearts broadly for one another, without shame or hesitation. Just two young beings diving into each other’s souls, passing control over to their bodies and hearts; even if they betrayed them.

He offered you an immense amount of vulnerability that he’s never given to anyone, simply by eye contact.

As if your souls had a secret language that they used.

“I—“

“Well—“

You spoke at the same time before stopping in shock.

“You speak first.”

“No. You talked first.”

He gestured for you to speak, and you swore you have never seen him this polite and held back.

“Hmm. I know this isn’t an ideal timing and that it’s quite rough for you right now. But how about breakfast and a mature conversation?” You asked with your bottom lip hidden between your teeth.

“I’d love that.” He nodded with a weak smile. The only one you managed to get from him for what felt like ages.

You refreshed in the bathroom while Harry prepared breakfast. It was similar to when he cooked you lunch. The same aroma drifted in the air with the sound of the oil sizzling and the same warmth that radiated from the house.

But this time, it was more awkward knowing that a conversation awaits. What were you supposed to say, and should you take the initiative of starting small talk?

You washed your face with water for the second time, dreading the return to the kitchen. You offered to cook since you knew he wasn’t feeling well, but he insisted saying ‘It’s the least he could do’.

Snowy managed to follow you to the bathroom (after he had his breakfast), and you smiled at his excited thumping.

“Let’s go.” You cradled him and returned to where Harry was using his chef skills.

He looked up the moment you walked in, offering you a gentle smile. Your heart ached at his gesture for no reason.

“Are you feeling okay now?” You cleared your throat as you sat on a stool near the counter.

“Somewhat…My headache is a bit better.” He scratched his head, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded, moving your attention to Snowy who was clueless and happy in your lap.

“I remembered some stuff.” He mumbled rather quickly as he flipped chocolate chip pancakes.

“Oh?” It was a good sign because you didn’t know how to tell him that he randomly mumbled stuff about you.

“Um, yeah…” He remained silent for a few seconds and checked in on the delicious scrambled eggs he was preparing.

“I’m sorry you had to see that last night.” His words reeked of shame and guilt. There was a sense of vulnerability in what went down, and for a man like him, it would be a hard pill to swallow. After all, someone else had seen his weakness.

“Harry, I—“

“No, just let me say a few things.” You hadn’t expected him to begin talking now. But, it seemed that you were too busy admiring his tired face to notice the plate he slid in front of you.

“Eat please.” He gestured to your plate with concern when he was the one who should be fuelling his body.

“You need it more.” You argued, with signs of worry flashing over your face.

Sweet sweet shortcake, Harry thought. Always putting others before you.

The look of determination on your face was evident. Besides, could he ever say no to you?

“Look, I’m eating.” He grabbed a pancake from his dish and took a bite.

You swallowed thickly and joined him in taking small bites of food. He felt more full just by watching you eat contently. He tried to ignore the whirling thoughts in his brain, whether or not you had dinner last night.

“I’m sorry again.” Harry gathered his courage and looked into your kind eyes.

“It wasn’t your responsibility to help me, nor Niall’s.” An undertone of pain was hidden in his voice.

“And it was all very immature of me.” You could tell that it was hard for him to maintain eye contact, you’d struggle too if you were in his place. So, you averted your gaze away to relieve him.

You didn’t interrupt him, it was clear that he had many things to say.

“I ruined your evening, made you worried, and had you sleep on an uncomfortable sofa.” He swallowed down his throat, with his fingers digging crescent marks on his palm.

“I’ve put you through so much just because I do not know how to communicate.” He shook his head in disappointment.

“We’re humans, we kind of designed to miscommunicate.” You shrugged.

“Not to this extent shortcake.” His eyes held the key to everything. You used to think of him as an enigma, or impossible puzzle. But now, he was like a flowing river that held all of his thoughts that had been pressing to come out.

“I—It’s not an excuse but I’m not a fan of alcohol and I’ve never been drunk.” He swiped his hand through his hair, finally caving into his anxiety and averting his gaze.

Going with the flow and confessing that you knew was not an option. You wanted him to open his heart out instead of making him feel like he was already exposed.

“And my father was an alcoholic—“ He took a deep breath and remained silent for a few moments.

“Harry, you don’t have to push yourself to talk.” You whispered despite being alone in the room.

The signs of tiredness on his face were somehow getting worse, and a single tear slid down his cheek. Your hand immediately reached out to wipe it, making him stare lovingly.

He didn’t reply verbally. Instead, he softly grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles with his eyes shut as if he were pouring something into the kiss.

“Sweet shortcake.” He gave you a hint of a smile as he gazed into your eyes.

“A fly wouldn’t dare to hurt you, yet I did.”

“Stop blaming yourself.” You grabbed a strawberry from his plate and brought it to his mouth. He accepted it contently and went back to silence.

The staring was not unpleasant like you thought it’d be. It was a continuation of standing in front of each other in the living room. Just two souls speaking in a different language.

He caught you off guard by breaking the silence with a shocked yet joyful expression.

His hand reached out to your neck where the necklace was dangling beautifully. He ran his fingers over it, before turning it backward and smiling at the engraving.

“You wore it.”

“Of course, might be my favorite necklace so far.” His smile was so broad that he seemed as if he had forgotten all about life’s worries.

“It suits you.” He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Because it’s special. Uncle George gave it to me and told me all about it after I left your garage.” You unintentionally broke the joyful bubble by reminding Harry of the awful events that led to this moment.

His expression slowly fell until his hand retracted away from the necklace.

“Harry—about that letter, it was immature of me. I should have faced you—“

“It’s completely your right. I’ve been so fucking shitty. I didn’t even deserve an explanation.”

“Don’t say that—“

“I’m serious. You wasted your kindness on me.” His hands were under the counter, but you had an inkling that they were shaking.

“I have a lot to explain and—“ He continued to ramble vigorously.

“H, breathe.” You stepped off the stool and went to his side.

He was rushing to tell you everything, not giving his body or mind a chance to process because he needed to explain himself. He’d go on his knees if he had to. His anxious rants and fast train of thought were nothing but an outcome of fear.

Fear of losing you.

A small part of him still believed that no matter what he said or did, you would still leave. Even if he ripped his heart out and gave it to you as it leaked black blood on the kitchen floor.

So he fired with everything that made him vulnerable, just to keep you, or at least the thought of you if you allowed.

And you knew that, god you knew. It had you fighting back tears as you faced him.

“You’re still very tired. And we don’t have to talk about every single detail right this instant. You need to rest, we both do.” Your hand caressed his cheek softly, and his face unconsciously leaned in.

“We need time to think, feel, and process what happened. I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I just won’t work for you anymore.” You weren’t the best confronter, but judging by the look in his eyes, you weren’t doing so bad.

“And—when the time is right, we’ll talk about many things.” It was your turn to tear up now, and of course, he mimicked what you did earlier by wiping your tears away.

“Can I say one last thing?”

“Yes.”

“You have bewitched me, body and soul.” He took pride in saying it, his eyes raking all over your face to save your reaction in his memory.

The slow appearance of your dimples, the soft furrow of your eyebrows, the realization dawning on your face followed by the most adorable giggle he has ever heard.

“Did you just quote Mr.Darcy!” You covered your mouth with your hand.

“He’s my number one inspiration.” His dimples made an appearance and god you’ve missed them. They brought joy to his worn-out yet beautiful face.

There was a certain undertone to his statement that had you holding back another giddy smile. One of them indicated quite the resemblance between him and Mr.Darcy. How he was cold towards Lizzie at first when he was simply smitten all along.

‘He’s my number one inspiration’

Was your story similar to theirs? Was he your Mr.Darcy? Bitter yet soft when faced with the possibility of losing you?

Another suggestion that knocked the breath out of your lungs was the sentence that would follow.

‘You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, love you.’

He didn’t utter it, but the idea of him even quoting your favorite book ever sparked goosebumps all over your skin.

“How did you even know what he said?” His eyes were glued to your smiling face, and if he ever lost his memory, he begged any existing divine being to only keep this sight of you.

“I read it.” He confessed proudly as if he were an Emperor flaunting his possessions.

The bluebirds have arrived and made themselves comfortable near the window. They would soon begin their orchestra as scheduled.

“You read Pride & Prejudice?!” You gasped unintentionally, causing a faint blush to creep up his cheeks.

He hummed with a grin threatening to break on his face and chewed on some eggs as you admired him.

You ached to ask him why he read this specific book. A part of you knew, but the other part craved to hear it.

Harry read your favorite book.

“Actually… speaking of reading.” You swallowed down your throat and readied yourself for your confession.

He turned his attention to you, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“You read a new book?”

“No—I’m in a reading slump honestly. My first one.” Your face fell, something that he immediately noticed.

“Oh—“

“It’s fine.” You shrugged, dismissing the issue. It did pain you but that wasn’t your current focus.

“What I wanted to say is that—I was cleaning some broken glass yesterday…” His jaw clenched at the mention of the glass. He didn’t think about the mess he caused, and bringing it up brought the guilt back.

“And I found something.” You were still trying to articulate proper words, but his facial expression saddened you.

Harry couldn’t decide if his brain wanted to pour its attention on blaming him for the broken glass or think about the ‘thing’ that you found.

“Yeah?”

“I did not mean to look—actually that’s a pathetic excuse.” You covered your face with your hands and let out a small groan.

“My eyes landed on some written stuff and I couldn’t stop reading your notebook.” You blurted it out as fast as possible, with an antsy body language.

“Shortcake—“

“I’m really sorry…that was rude of me, but I—“

“Calm down.” It was ironic how he managed to soothe you with two simple words.

“It’s all good, m’kay? Besides, the poem is about you shortcake.” Another proud confession left his lips as if what he said wasn’t so destructively beautiful.

You were always the reader, and never the writer. But Harry canceled both possibilities and made you the muse.

“I meant every word, and I always will.” He whispered as if the bluebirds would hear him and steal his sacred poem.

You could feel your eyes swelling with tears, your left knee was shaking and you couldn’t maintain eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry this is a lot to take in.” You covered your face from embarrassment.

“No pressure, shortcake.” He assured you with a thousand knives going through his heart.

Snow Bun broke the tension by thumping repeatedly until Harry kneeled, and picked him up.

“Someone wants attention…” Harry chuckled before Snowy jumped out of his lap, straight to his plate on the counter, and helped himself to strawberries.

“…or my strawberries.” He shook his head in disappointment for falling into Snowy’s trap.

Your laughter echoed in the room, overshadowing the birds’ songs. A laughter that healed Harry, and reflected his happiness.

“Do you want more food? Are you full?” He gestured to your empty plate.

“Thank you H, I’m all good. I think I’ll head home now.” You got off the stool and grabbed your bag from the sofa.

“Yeah—Okay. Let me dress up quickly to drive you.” He was heading towards his bedroom before you stopped him.

“No, it’s okay. I have my bike.”

“I insist, it’s the least I could do—“

“H, stop saying that. I promise I’ll be fine on my own.” He studied your facial expression to try and figure out if you genuinely do not need the ride.

“Besides, I don’t want you driving immediately after yesterday night, you should rest and I need some fresh air.” You tipped him an honest smile that had his heart pumping.

“Sure, whatever you like.” His hands were in his pockets as he stood facing you.

‘I don’t want you driving immediately after yesterday night’ had him frozen in his place.

It toyed with his heart and messed with his blood pressure. You said it so casually as if it didn’t indicate that someone cared about him—and not just anyone, it was you.

His shortcake, his delicate girl.

You walked towards the front door as Harry watched with intent eyes. After a few steps, you stopped and turned around in his direction.

He was taken aback by your action and straightened his posture.

“I’m really glad that you’re safe.” You blurted out, as you looked into his emerald eyes. He didn’t get the chance to form a response before you engulfed his body in a tight hug.

His hands immediately wrapped around your body, savoring what you offered. You warmed him up in a few moments more than the sun that woke him up.

A whiff of your strawberry shampoo was stuck in his nose and that was all he needed to feel better.

Somehow, his hands were perfectly molded for your waist, and your height was perfect for him to lower his head and lay it against yours.

Despite his wishes and dreams, you pulled away from the hug with a soft smile painted across your face.

“Bye, H.”

“Bye, shortcake.”

It was an easy departure, not filled with heavy weight on your chest or guilt. The complete opposite of your arrival last night.

You weren’t trying to avoid Harry when you said that it would need time, but you knew that some space would do good for both parties. Pondering and reflecting was a necessity, especially for Harry.

The yearning to hear Harry’s explanations remained nestled deep inside you. Your patience would undergo a practice with a small hint of knowing what was coming.

For once in your life, you didn’t jump to conclusions stemming from your anxiety. What you felt, heard, and saw was enough.

You didn’t want Harry to rush everything because you could feel how the sentence was on the tip of his tongue, along with quoting Mr.Darcy.

He had feelings for you, and it was mutual.

You allowed yourself to feel the giddiness and rush while simultaneously acknowledging past events.

What led you to write the letter, Harry’s coldness and ignorance but also his sudden moments of warmth and kindness.

Denial wasn’t an option for you. You felt attracted to him since day one, and rightfully so. As for his feelings, you’re yet to delve deep into that topic.

Time does not heal, but it’s more of a breather. Last night was emotionally charged, but it somehow changed your life upside down.

He didn’t specifically confess his feelings, and nor did you. But you kept going back to those moments of silence when your souls had a quiet chat against your knowledge. Perhaps they confessed then because you really know.

If you were to think deeply about it, Harry did the one thing he vowed to never do just because he thought that he lost you for good.

It pained you to even consider it, but that indicated how much you meant to him.

Drinking to punish himself, his poem, his apologetic sweet face, his urge to spit out every single excuse his heart held, and his body that held you as if he was shielding you from the world.

He was the man you read about in your books, with all of his good and bad traits. In fact, he was better than them because he was real with a beating heart that you listened to when you hugged him.

The past would not be forgotten, it would be vaguely memorized to learn from your mistakes as human beings who were designed and destined to commit mistakes.

The next best thing after sunshine, books, strawberries, bunnies, and poems was second chances and fresh beginnings.

Even with the knowledge that many mature conversations await you, there was something comforting about this morning that carried a whiff of warmth in the air.

Harry liked you, and you liked Harry.

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[writingpastmybedtime]

Cinderella AU

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x f!Reader

Summary: The classic Cinderella AU. It's heavily inspired by the Disney live-action remake, but with a few tweaks here and there.

Word Count: 8k, oops..?

Warnings: None, except for extra cute Prince Sebastian.

A/N: It’s my first time writing for Seb at this length & I'm kind of proud of how it turned out. Oh, and I gave Sebastian the nickname 'Bash'. Hope you love it as much as I do!<3

Once upon a time, or however the story begins, there lived a girl named Y/N. She was the most beautiful thing in her parents’ eyes and held the kindest heart. They lived happily in a secluded small mansion. They weren’t the richest per se, but they could keep up with the house and even had a few workers in the kitchen and garden. 

As time went by, the girl discovered a passion for music and playing the piano. Her sweet melodies often graced the halls of the house, and whenever she wasn’t behind the piano, she had her face buried deep in a journal, writing down every last thought that had occurred to her that day.

Alas, the time that had passed had also come bearing sombre news. The little girl’s mother had fallen ill with a disease so rare, there was nothing left to do but wait. Those three months spent waiting were the hardest for the girl, as she was always staying beside her mother’s bed, reading to her, brushing her hair, and playing lovely tunes on the piano to soothe her mother’s mind. 

It wasn’t until one night, that the clock in the writing room, which her mother so deeply loved, stopped working and the house suddenly grew more quiet.

Years passed, and Y/N grew even more beautiful. She was always happy and kind, helping out everyone around the house and being there for her father. Y/N’s father was a merchant, so it was not uncommon that he had many trips abroad and many foreign friends. He had a certain way with him, his friends even called him a man of many words. He always found a way to insert an inspirational quote into whatever conversation was going on. His personal favourite, however, was a quote about courage. 

Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.

“Darling, would you accompany me to the garden?” Her father asked her. Of course, she followed him with a smile on her face. He began to tell her of a widowed woman, with two daughters just a few years older than Y/N. He explained that he’d known the woman's late husband, having met him many times on his travels. 

“They need a place to stay and they need a sense of security,” he began shyly, before continuing. “I think I can offer them that, I think we can offer them that.”

Y/N smiled as she took her father's hands in hers. “Father, if it’s something that would make you happy, it would make me even happier.” He smiled at her and pulled her into a hug.

Madam Deveraux was a widowed noblewoman with two daughters, Arabella and Isadora. The Madam herself was mostly reserved and you could never tell what she was thinking just by looking at her. Her gaze always remained strong, even when the death of her dear husband crushed her spirit. As months passed after the tragic death, the demeanour of Madam Deveraux changed. Once just a composed and modest lady, was now hardened at heart, with only one true goal. To see her two daughters succeed and be wed off to rich husbands, no matter the cost.

Arabella, the eldest daughter was certainly pretty on the eyes, however, she had a mouth to her that diminished her beauty to a certain degree. Never afraid to speak her mind and even once in a while throw in a more vulgar term here or there. She was fascinated with all kinds of different adult romance books - that’s where she probably learned those indecent phrases. She also loved to draw, but truth be told, she wasn’t really any good at it.

Isadora, like her sister, was also beautiful in her own way. She certainly wasn’t as crude as her sister, but still had a peculiar sense of self. Her ego was probably the biggest between the three of them. Every reflective surface she saw made her gaze at herself longingly, always fixing her hair or makeup. Always whispering sweet affirmations to herself. She knew she was the prettiest person, whenever she walked into a crowded room. Even if the snobby personality sometimes made her mother’s eyes roll.

After a few weeks, it was time again for Y/N’s father to take his leave. Y/N felt crushed, and a sense of dread filled her heart, making her father promise that he’d return.

Unfortunately, on his travels back from overseas, Y/N’s father fell ill and was never able to return to her. It saddened her deeply, but due to her chores, given to her by her step-mother, she didn’t have time to dwell on her grief. 

Months passed, with her chores growing bigger and bigger. She had given up her bedroom because Arabella and Isadora were too cramped up in their own smaller one. Unfortunately for Y/N, instead of getting the smaller room for herself, she had to stay in a storage room right next to the kitchen. It wasn’t the most tedious place to be, for someone somewhere must’ve had to have even worse living conditions. That thought kept her appreciating her commodities and trying to tidy up the tiny storage room as best as she could.

“Y/N, could you be a dear and help your sisters with their dresses?” Madam Deveraux’s cold voice could be heard from upstairs, as Y/N was just finishing up setting the table in the kitchen. Sighing, but still with a smile on her face, the girl walked upstairs to assist her step-sisters. Arabella was tugging Isadora’s corset, to make it more tight, as Isadora was standing near the mirror letting out gasps of air. 

“A little bit of help, please?” Isadora asked in her saccharine voice, looking at Y/N through her mirror. Y/N nodded and took over from Arabella, pulling and pulling until the corset was perfectly on Isadora’s body. 

“Hmm, I look good, don’t you think so?” Isadora spun around, now in her huge pink sparkling dress, which did not do her beauty any justice. Y/N, however, was not one to judge. She just smiled lightly and nodded. 

“Pfft, as if you had any sense of style,” Isadora went to grab her rings, before putting them on her dainty fingers. Her brown hair was curled in an updo and she had put on a plethora of perfume, that was way too sweet, but ironically, fit her perfectly.

“Hah, you’re right sissy, this wench does not know anything about fashion. I mean look at how she’s dressed right now.” Arabella looked at Y/N from head to toe, her face grimacing. Y/N lowered her head to look at her grey dress. Yes, it wasn’t as fancy as the gowns on her step-sisters, but it had belonged to her mother. The grey dress made her feel some kind of sanity, running around doing chores for the Deverauxs’. Picking invisible lint from the pocket of her skirt, the step-sisters just laughed at how humiliated Y/N looked.

“Yes, you do look absolutely atrocious as of late,” Isadora smirked as Arabella grinned, taking joy in embarrassing Y/N. “You’re just plain ugly,” the eldest sister managed to get out before laughing.

“Here, take this, go buy yourself something prettier,” Isadora scoffed as she handed Y/N three silver pieces. You could not get anything fairly pretty with that kind of sum. Y/N had given up on pretty dresses a while ago, being content with the ones her mother had left her. She shook her head at the silver coins, not accepting the pity donation. 

“Fine have it your way, I was just trying to be nice,” Isadora threw the silver pieces on the floor as Arabella snorted in an unladylike manner. “Now leave, as I remember correctly Mama wanted you to go down to the forest to pick up some flowers for the gathering tonight.”

Y/N nodded to the girls, before hastily leaving the room, blinking back tears. She had grown accustomed to their derogatory comments, but that didn’t mean a part of her always ached at their remarks. Never had she been anything, but good and friendly towards the girls and their mother. She shook her head, as if to shake it clear from the depressing thoughts and picked up a dark-brown wooden basket from the kitchen table.

The walk from the house to the forest was always Y/N’s favourite. As soon as the house with the hectic people inside of it disappeared from her field of view, a certain kind of calmness filled Y/N. It was as if she could finally breathe without restrictions. Even the world around her seemed a little bit more saturated. Birds were flying around, singing their beautiful songs; it was spring after all. Y/N started to hum a melody she used to love to play the most on her piano.

Y/N twirled around and smiled, suddenly feeling joyous and elated. She closed her eyes, still twirling, liking the feel of the afternoon sun on her face. A total bliss. Suddenly, when taking her last twirl, she felt her foot get stuck on a tree root and braced herself for a fall.

However, the fall did not come. 

Instead, strong hands had grasped her waist, holding her a few centimetres off the ground. Y/N finally opened her eyes, the sun making her squint a little before finally her vision was back in focus. She was looking into blue eyes. Into the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen. Serene, deep blue eyes, that she could get lost in. That she did get lost in.

“Miss, are you alright?” Y/N blinked, before realising the man was still holding her. She stumbled to get out of his grasp, before wiping her dress from invisible dirt. Her cheeks flushed pink, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you..?” Y/N said, waiting for the person’s name to finish her sentence. To thank him personally. She now had time to look at the man that had so gracefully caught her. He had brown medium-length hair, which seemed abnormally soft and Y/N wished she could tread her fingers through it. The man smiled, no grinned rather, and Y/N was taken aback by how handsome this stranger looked.

“You really don’t know who I am?” The man chuckled and Y/N shook her head quizzically. Was she supposed to know him? She browsed through her brain, wondering who this man could be; maybe she’d met him before. But no, she’d remember him. She could never forget those eyes.

Y/N saw a peculiar look in his gaze before his grin grew even bigger and he introduced himself. “My name’s Bash,” he said, and Y/N furrowed her brows, but smiling nonetheless. 

“That’s a peculiar name,” she spoke, before realising her comment was nowhere near acceptable nor did it come off as friendly. The man, Bash, as she’d learned, let out a genuine laugh at the comment. Y/N felt embarrassed and was about to apologise before he stopped her.

“I like your candour,” he smirked. “It’s actually a nickname. A name that my father calls me whenever I haven’t done anything to upset him.” Y/N smiled, no longer feeling embarrassed, but just a little bit of something else. A strange warm feeling was creeping up in her chest. 

“Well, thank you, Bash, for catching me. And I’m sorry you even had to, I’m not normally so clumsy.”

“It’s no problem, besides, what even is a beautiful girl like you doing out in these woods anyway?” Bash asked, not being able to take his eyes off Y/N. He’d never seen a girl so beautiful before. And ‘beautiful’ was not even enough to describe her. 

“Oh, I’m just on my way to get flowers for a party later on. Which does remind me, that I should be on my way,” Y/N looked down at her basket, which she hadn’t fortunately dropped, when she had stumbled. Realisation hit her then, that he’d called her beautiful, but she couldn’t believe it. Perhaps she’d heard wrong?

“Do you work nearby?” Bash asked, his eyes still admiring her own. He did not want to leave her this soon after just meeting. But her duty called and truth be told, so did his. He wasn’t even supposed to be out here. He was out riding with his horse when suddenly he heard the most beautiful voice humming somewhere nearby. Having left his horse a few metres behind, was when he finally saw her. She was twirling and twirling and completely not noticing the tree root that was about to make her fall on the next twirl. Thankfully, he was fast and had caught her on time. 

“Yes, I do. Are you from around here as well?” Y/N asked politely. Knowing that she should be going now, but his eyes were just too mesmerising, to not look away from, that she stayed grounded.

“I actually work at the castle,” he said, his eyes turning pink as if he was embarrassed about the notion. Y/N smiled at that. “Must be nice,” she thought out loud, as Bash just shook his head at her comment.

“Depending on the day, it can be a little bit too much sometimes.” Y/N nodded at that, trying to understand what it must be like working amidst hundreds of people. Working for royalty.

“Well, it’s like my father always taught me,” she began as she gave him the sweetest smile. “Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” Bash raised his eyebrow at that. “And do you feel like that?” 

“Huh?”

“Do you feel seen?” He inquired, and Y/N shrugged. The question was raw - she hadn’t expected that. Did she feel seen? No, not as of late. But she couldn’t tell him that, now could she? She noticed the sun had turned just a tiny bit more golden and felt fear rush through her. She was supposed to be making supper for the Deverauxs and their guests.

“Look, it’s been wonderful having this chat with you, but I really must take my leave,” she nodded to him, taking her basket and turning around, completely forgetting about the flowers. 

Bash felt a tinge of sadness in him, before nodding and giving her a final smile. “Well, it was wonderful making your acquaintance. I hope to see you again someday.” Y/N turned around at his voice. She nodded, grinning at him.

“So do I.”

“Soon,” Bash said and saw Y/N blush, before finally taking her leave. 

She found some wild poppies just behind the house and hoped they’d do. Fortunately, Madam Deveraux only gave her a quizzical look, before dismissing her. She took a breath, thanking the gods that her step-mother did not freak out over the flower arrangement. All evening as she was making supper for everyone, her thoughts went back to the kind stranger she’d met. 

Bash.

Y/N was browsing through the city fair, currently looking at new books she wished she could buy when suddenly a horn was heard above in the upper city. She glanced up from the booth towards the sound, seeing everyone gathering around.

“Hear ye, hear ye,” a man in a formal outfit began. Behind him stood many other men, dressed the same.

These were men from the castle, she concluded. Her thoughts went to Bash for a second, before focusing back on the man giving out the information.

“As requested by His Royal Highness, Prince Sebastian, there is to be a ball, for two weeks hence, in honour of him choosing a bride. As per his wishes, the ball is open to everyone in the country.”

Squeals and cheers were coming from every corner of the city at the news. Y/N suddenly felt very happy. Maybe this was her chance to see Bash again in the castle, after all, he did say he worked there.

Having made her way back home, she rushed to Madam Deveraux, who was sitting in the living room with Arabella and Isadora. The latter was playing the piano. Correction, trying to play, for Y/N, did not know it was possible to make that kind of noise on the delicate instrument.

“What has gotten you in a rush? Your dress is all dirty again,” Arabella scrunched her face, clearly disgusted by Y/N’s clothing once again.

“I was just in the city when they announced there is to be a ball in two weeks as the Prince is to finally choose a bride. It’s open to everyone.” She smiled as she saw Madam Deveraux jump up from the couch, her daughters following her. Suddenly they screamed and the two girls jumped around.

“I’m going to be the new princess,” Isadora squealed before Arabella nudged her on the shoulder.

“No, I am!” Arabella insisted before Madam Deveraux made them quiet down.

“Y/N, you have to go into town and get three beautiful dresses,” Madam Deveraux smiled at her, a new prosperous future in mind for her daughters. She knew they had to look their best to catch the eye of the Prince.

“Yes, yes I will. Thank you for letting me come with you.” Y/N said as she was about to leave back to the city, her mind joyous and excited. Madam Deveraux had finally accepted her as part of the family and she got to go to the ball as well.

“Come with us?” Madam Deveraux scoffed and raised her eyebrow. “Why in the seven hells do you think you’re coming with us?”

Y/N started to say something before she was rudely cut off.

“Nuh, uh-uh.” Madam Deveraux pointed her finger at Y/N. “You do not belong at events like these. You will not go, I forbid you.” 

Y/N felt tears in her eyes, not understanding why she was being so mean to her. 

“Oh, Mama, look. You’ve made the duckling cry.” Arabella snickered and Isadora laughed.

“But why? All I’ve ever done is be nice to you. I do all these chores, you ask of me, and more.” Y/N started shaking but was reluctant to let out real tears. They cannot see me cry, she thought to herself.

“Have you ever considered that you’re maybe just not enough? Not enough pretty, not enough smart,” Madam Deveraux took steps toward Y/N, placing a finger under her jaw, pulling Y/N to look at her. “You’re no one.” Madam Deveraux turned away, before muttering instructions that Y/N was to buy dresses for the three of them the following day.

TWO WEEKS LATER

After helping the Deveraux sisters into their beautiful ball gowns and doing their hair, Y/N watched them leave in a big beige carriage. Letting her shoulders shrug, she finally let out the tears she’d been holding in. Y/N had hoped to visit the ball as well, hoping to see the blue-eyed man who had taken over her thoughts.

Y/N heard footsteps behind her and her name being called, before turning around and seeing Anastasia, an older lady that she’d known all of her life. Anastasia was a neighbour, a lovely woman, who always took care of Y/N whenever it was needed. Anastasia did not like the way Madam Deveraux had started treating Y/N after her father died and even offered to let Y/N move in with her. However, Y/N always passed the opportunity down, saying that she made a promise to her mother and father to look after the house.

“My dear,” Anastasia came closer, taking Y/N’s hand and seeing the tear trails on her face. “Why are you not at the ball? Everyone’s invited.” 

Y/N shook her head, before explaining that Madam Deveraux had forbidden her to attend the event. Anastasia pursed her lips, before muttering, more to herself than to Y/N.

“This will not do,” then louder, “this will not do at all.” She grabbed Y/N’s arm and started pulling her towards her house which was just a few minutes further away. “You will go to the ball, end of story.”

“But how? I have no horse to take me, let alone a carriage. Nor do I have a dress that is suitable for this kind of event.” Y/N saw Anastasia grin, before ushering her faster towards her house.

“Have courage, dear one. I will make sure you get everything.”

And just as Anastasia said, Y/N had it all. Anastasia was a well-endowed lady, who did not have the joy of getting to raise a daughter of her own. No, she was instead blessed with three sons. So it was mere luck, and perhaps a little bit of something else, that Anastasia had a beautiful periwinkle blue dress in her closet waiting to be worn. It fit Y/N perfectly as if it was made only for her to wear.

Anastasia did Y/N’s hair next, whilst explaining that she’d already talked with her personal chauffeur, who was to take Y/N to the ball. 

“I cannot begin to thank you enough, Lady Anastasia,” Y/N had tears in her eyes, although this time they were there for another reason. Gratitude.

“Oh, stop it, dear. I’ve told you a thousand times to not call me that, it makes me feel old,” she grimaced, before helping Y/N into the carriage. As Y/N took a step, Anastasia saw her shoes, which looked worn out and definitely didn't go along with the dress. She muttered something under her breath, before looking at Y/N again.

“There’s something in a box inside the carriage. Make use of them. And make sure to dance.” Y/N furrowed her brows, trying to understand, before she took her seat and felt the carriage take off slowly. “But wait, what about Madam Deveraux and the step-sisters? Won’t they recognize me?” Y/N asked worriedly, looking back at the kind woman.

“Oh, don’t worry about something so trivial, my dear, it’s already been taken care of,” Anastasia winked, before remembering, “and before I forget, try to return at midnight. I cannot explain why, but it’s imperative that you do so. You have to be back when the clock strikes twelve.” With a smile, Anastasia stayed behind, waving at Y/N. 

Y/N was a bit confused, even more so when she opened the box that was on the seat in front of her. Beautiful shoes, made out of iridescent glass, were inside the box. She gasped when she took one in her hand, not even feeling the weight of it, expecting it to be heavier. She slipped off her slippers, before trying on the glass shoes. 

They fit perfectly. As if these shoes, just like the dress, were made just for her. Maybe Anastasia was a witch? No, that sounds too evil. Maybe she was her Fairy Godmother. Y/N chuckled at the silly idea of magic but still felt curious about the predicament she was in.

Y/N didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whereabouts of her dress and shoes before she saw the castle in front of her. Only a few minutes separated her from the majestic building.

“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen,” she whispered to herself, looking longingly at the castle ahead.

The castle itself was beautiful. Y/N had never seen a building so marvellous in her life. Taking slow steps through the garden in front of the castle, she was in awe. Twirling around and trying to take it all in. The castle inside was just about the same. Mesmerising to the point of Y/N being left speechless. She imagined what it’d be like to live here. So in contrast to her current living conditions.

Before she knew it, she was standing behind a huge door, with two guards standing on each side of it. This must be the ballroom, she figured. She gave a nod and a curtsy to the guards before they nodded in return and opened the doors.

She heard the buzz of the voices first, before walking towards the balcony that was connected to the ground floor of the ballroom. About a hundred and fifty other people were mingling downstairs, not counting the guards and other workers. 

She began to make her descent down the marvellous staircase, walking slowly, as if not to ruin the dress and not to stumble on her feet. She felt anxious, before reminding herself of her father's wise words again.

It was then that Bash saw her, from across the room. He’d been waiting for her for hours now. Hoping that she’d grace the castle with her beauty. And what a beauty she was, indeed. He was left bewildered when he saw her. She looked otherworldly.

She looked ethereal.

As if they were magnets, he felt an invisible string pull him towards her. He apologised to the princess currently in front of him and nodded to his father, before taking his leave and stepping onto the dance floor. 

Y/N had just reached the last step when she noticed the crowd parting and giving her way. At the end of the tunnel of people, she saw him.

It was him, it was truly him.

Bash.

And oh, the way he looked at Y/N. As if she’d hung the stars in the sky. 

He grinned when he was finally near enough to notice the sparkling eyeshadow on her eyelids and the pink tone of her lips. 

“Wow, just wow,” Bash let out, scratching the back of his head. A habit of his, whenever he was nervous. “I’m speechless, really.” Bash said, before taking Y/N’s hand and placing a delicate kiss on her knuckles. 

“You look breathtaking,” he said, looking up. Y/N blushed heavily, still not having noticed the ballroom growing quiet. All she saw was him. He was wearing a dark blue suit, with small gold intricate details, that made him look regal. It was then, Y/N realised, he was probably not just a mere worker in a castle.

“Would you allow me this dance?” He said as he stood up straight again. Y/N nodded, not trusting her words at the moment. He took her hand gently on his, placing his other on her waist. The pull between them only grew, the magnetic feel forcing them to be as close as possible.

And then they danced. He was a wonderful leader, and fortunately for Y/N, she was not so bad herself on a dancefloor, having taken dance lessons in her youth. The pair only had eyes for each other, completely ignoring the looks they were getting all over the ballroom. Some were jealous, some were elated, and some were more than angry with the outcome happening right now.

Y/N grinned as Bash twirled her not once, but twice, and then made her fall into his arms. The song ended and they were both out of breath. Y/N felt Bash put a strand of hair behind her ear, looking longingly into her eyes. He leaned in, before closing his eyes and stopping himself.

“Come with me, I want to show you something,” Y/N nodded as he led her away from the dancefloor to the confines of a secluded room filled with high bookshelves. There were rows and rows of books. Y/N twirled around, taking it all in. She’d never seen bookshelves this high before.

They were in a library. 

Sebastian noticed how Y/N smiled in awe as she took it all in. He just had a feeling she would like it.

“You didn’t tell me you were a prince, Prince Sebastian,” Y/N said when she turned around from admiring the thousands of books gracing the shelves. Bash chuckled.

“I told you I worked at the castle. Which is true,” Y/N narrowed her eyes before smiling. 

“I just didn’t specify,” Bash said, a finality in his tone. Y/N then saw him truly as he was, as a future king. 

A kind future king, she acknowledged. 

“True,” she took another longing look at the bookshelves before something else caught her eye on the other side of the room.

There was a black grand piano, waiting to be played. Almost calling her name as she took steps towards it. Bash saw what her eyes had fixed on, a grin growing on his face.

“Do you play?” He asked as Y/N let her fingers slide tenderly across the black-and-white keys. 

“I used to,” Y/N said honestly, still gazing longingly at the beautiful instrument in front of her. “I haven’t in a while, not since my father passed.” Bash looked at her sorrowfully, before whispering his condolences.

Sebastian took a seat in front of the piano, patting the place next to him. Y/N blushed before she obliged. 

She watched Sebastian place his hands on the piano, pressing a few keys, which made the sweetest tune. She closed her eyes and hummed to herself when she heard him continue. Suddenly the sound stopped and she opened her eyes to come face to face with Bash.

“Your turn,” he whispered, his face was so close to hers, that she could feel his breath on her face. She blushed but shook her head.

“I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”

“I shouldn’t, really.”

“You should, really.”

“I will.” She said finally, seeing Sebastian grin before she placed her trembling hands on the keys.

She took a breath before letting her hands take over, the notes she played were familiar to her, never forgotten. Even if she hadn’t played them in so long. She let herself be carried by the tune, until at some point, there was a dialogue.

Sebastian had accompanied her on the piano, he was playing on his side, giving supporting yet beautiful notes to the ones she played. Y/N was enthralled and totally mesmerised by the music. 

So was he. Before today, Sebastian was sure Y/N could not surprise him anymore. She was already perfect enough. But here she was, letting out a precious and delicate part of herself that not many could see. She trusted him. And he appreciated it more than Y/N could ever imagine.

Later on in their life, Bash would tell Y/N that this was the moment he fell in love with her.

As with all good things in life, the song came to an end, and Y/N removed her hands from the keyboard to her lap. Fidgeting with her fingers, as if suddenly ashamed of letting someone see her so bare.

Sebastian placed two fingers underneath her jaw, making Y/N look at him. Her eyes were so vulnerable, that he wanted to fix everything in her life. Not knowing anything about her, but vowing to himself that he’d do anything and everything in his power to make sure she was happy at all times.

Their faces were close again, just one small nudge, and he could feel her lips on his. Y/N saw as Bash’s gaze moved from her eyes to her lips, hers following the action. They were so–so close. Sebastian nudged Y/N’s nose with his own as if asking for permission. Y/N closed her eyes and grinned, him doing the same, and just as their lips were about to meet, Y/N heard the clock strike. 

Her eyes flew wide open and she pulled away. Looking at the clock behind them, she realised she was running out of time.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to go,” Y/N said apologetically, coming to stand. Bash followed immediately, wanting to grasp her arm, but not wanting to overstep.

“You’ve been absolutely wonderful and I’ve had the time of my life, truly.” She started walking away, fast. Sebastian was bewildered, not understanding what went wrong.

“Why are you in a hurry?” He asked, giving her a smile to try to ease the sudden tension in the room.

“It’s hard to explain, I don’t even understand it myself. But I made a promise,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. Bash was trailing behind her; they still weren’t out of the confines of the library. “I don’t break my promises.”

“Then promise me, we will meet again,” Sebastian told her, as he saw her quicken the pace. She was at the door now. The door that connected to the ballroom. The door that would bring them back to reality. She gave him one last look over her shoulder, grinning at him the way she’d never before when she finally whispered so only he could hear.

“Goodbye, Prince Sebastian.”

She took off and Sebastian followed. He felt his pulse quicken in his chest, for he had been so close to telling her that he’d chosen her as his bride. 

And she’d used his full name. Not the nickname he’d given her.

Bash felt dread creep up on him. This wasn’t supposed to end like this.

And that’s when he realised he didn’t know her name. All this time together, and he had forgotten to ask the simplest of questions. 

She had passed the ballroom now and Sebastian tried his hardest to catch up. With his luck, though, what with being the prince and all, he wasn’t so quick. Girls touched him and pulled him into them, everyone trying to score a chance at a dance with the Prince Sebastian. 

Sebastian muttered countless apologies, before finally getting free of the wandering hands and quickening his pace towards her.

Y/N tried to run as fast as she could. Suddenly she stumbled and one of her glass shoes had fallen off. She looked behind herself and saw Bash following her, even if he was a bit farther behind. She did not have time to go back for the shoe, trying to get the other one off her foot, while still running.

She finally made her way to her carriage, letting it drive away. In her last glance towards the castle, she saw Bash picking up her glass shoe, holding it to his chest, and looking longingly towards the carriage. She blinked and felt moisture on her cheeks. She was devastated by leaving him, but he was a prince. He was the Prince Sebastian and she was just a commoner. A maid, if she could be called even that as of late. However, the feeling was bittersweet, as she’d have memories of this night to remind herself for the years to come.

The way his hands had felt, the way he had looked at her, the way his breath had made goosebumps on her skin when his nose brushed against hers.

The carriage dropped her off at her house, and she hastily made her way into her small room. As she changed into her other dress, the grey one that was her mother's, she noticed that her periwinkle dress was gone. She had just hung it up in her closet, but it was nowhere. She looked again and again, pulling out every other dress in her closet, but nothing.

It was as if it was never even there.

All that remained, which reminded her of the evening spent with the Prince, were her memories and the small glass shoe on the ground in her closet. Reminders, that she hadn’t imagined her time in the castle and that it had been real.

It was quiet until she heard voices coming from the hallway. Annoyed voices.

“I cannot believe, we didn’t get to dance with the Prince,” Isadora said grumpily, sitting down at the dining room table with a disappointed look. “All because of that stupid girl in that pretty dress.”

“At least I touched him,” Arabella closed her eyes, trying to remember the feel of his shoulder beneath her fingers. “He was so firm,” Arabella continued to daydream and took a seat next to her sister. Madam Deveraux was the last to arrive in the room, taking note of Y/N and how bubbly she suddenly looked.

She had a certain spring in her step, when she finally brought the food on the table, for them to eat. Madam Deveraux raised her eyebrow, eyeing Y/N thoroughly, but not saying a word. She thought Y/N would be more devastated at not having had the opportunity to attend the ball.

Something was going on. And she did not like it one bit.

Y/N spent the rest of her evening writing everything down in her diary. She wrote of every minute spent in the castle and her time with the Prince. Mostly, she wrote of the Prince.

It was a month after the ball when Y/N went to her room to check her closet. She had a peculiar feeling in her chest as if something were amiss. Her diary had been exactly where she’d left it, but to her surprise the glass shoe was missing. Y/N looked around her closet, but it was nowhere in sight.

“Are you looking for this?” She heard the cold voice of Madam Deveraux from the doorstep, before looking at her quizzically. “It’s a wonderful little thing, isn’t it.” Madam Deveraux said, looking at the shoe in her hand and then at Y/N. “Do you even know that there’s a countrywide search for whoever wore these shoes to the ball?”

Y/N was surprised, for she did not know the Prince was looking for her. Mostly because she hadn’t even been out of the house these previous weeks. Madam Deveraux had been giving her more chores than she could manage and now she figured out why.

“I won’t even begin to ask where you acquired such a thing, for I simply do not care.” Madam Deveraux hit the glass shoe on the wall next to her, making Y/N gasp and let out a weak ‘no’.

Madam Deveraux smirked, taking pleasure in Y/N’s sorrowful state. “It’s only a matter of time before they knock on our door. And you will not be a part of this household when they ask. It’s only me, Arabella and Isadora.” She grinned darkly, looking at Y/N sitting on the floor, tears in her eyes. 

“Do you understand? Do you now, finally, understand that sometimes a person of your stature is just not enough?” Y/N whimpered as Madam Deveraux closed the door of her room, locking it behind her.

Y/N looked around herself, she had approximately enough food in her room to last her a few days, but she had finally accepted her fate. She would never see Bash again.

It was the afternoon of the next day when Madam Deveraux heard knocking on her door. She placed on her most pleasant smile and opened the door wide, to be met with the new King’s chancellor. 

“Hello, we are here on behalf of His Majesty the King, to try to find his beloved. Are there any ladies in your household, to whom this shoe might belong?” The man in a dark blue suit asked, showing Madam Deveraux the glass shoe she was all familiar with.

Madam Deveraux was thrilled. She had ordered her daughters to lotion their feet daily and to try to squish them into smaller shoes, for she had to be sure that one of them would find their place near the King. 

Arabella was first, as was expected of the eldest daughter. She let out a bunch of profanities while trying on the shoe, pushing and pulling the glass to try to fit into it. “One more time,” she said, her face completely red from the puffing and huffing.

“Oh, give up already,” Isaroda said, whilst nudging her sister, making her fall and catching the shoe in her hand.

As expected, it didn’t fit her either.

Madam Deveraux was absolutely annoyed with her daughters, completely disappointed in their incompetence.

“I am sorry for wasting your time, Madam Deveraux,” the chancellor said, as he was stepping out of the house. Just as he was about to get back on his horse, there was humming to be heard.

The loveliest voice was humming a tune somewhere in the house. Madam Deveraux’s eyes shot up, trying to close the door behind her.

The chancellor raised an eyebrow. “Is there someone else in the house with you?” 

Madam Deveraux smiled smugly, however slightly shaken with the idea of the kingsmen hearing Y/N’s humming. She shook her head.

“No, there is no one, but me and my two daughters.”

“You’re lying,” said a strong voice, as a man jumped off his horse. He removed his hood, and everyone gasped.

It was Prince Sebastian. No, he was King Sebastian now. His father had fallen ill and given Sebastian the throne early.

Madam Deveraux was flabbergasted and immediately curtsied. “M-my prin-King, My King, I had no idea, you’d be here.” 

Sebastian took a few steps forward, still hearing the tune of Y/N’s humming. He knew it was her. It was the same song they’d played on the piano together. 

Sebastian looked at his chancellor, nodding towards the house. “Want to check it out, or should I?”

His chancellor, his best friend, smirked when he saw the glint in Sebastian’s eye. “Go ahead, Your Majesty.” Sebastian grinned before fastening his pace and entering the house. He followed the humming to the small door near the kitchen.

Sebastian saw that the door was locked, so with one, really-really strong pull he tore the lock off the door and exhaled before opening the door.

Y/N had no idea what was going on. She had been trying to calm herself ever since Madam Deveraux had locked her in this room. So when she heard noises coming behind the door, she had expected the worst. 

What she didn’t expect, however, were the kind eyes of Bash.

Sebastian faltered, his steps coming to a stop. There she stood. His beloved. His Queen. He furrowed his brows as he took in her commodities. The way she was dressed. The way her eyes were red-rimmed - an indication that she had been crying. 

She had been locked up.

Everything suddenly made sense to him and he wasted no time in hurrying towards Y/N and pulling her to him. Hugging her so close to him, finally, finally, feeling her in his arms.

“Bash,” She let out weakly and Sebastian just shushed her, placing his head on hers. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Y/N tried to push herself away from him, afraid to get even more hurt. She had felt enough disappointment and grief in her life to experience it again. And grief she would feel if she lost Bash too. So it was easier to push him away before her feelings got too strong. Although, deep down, she knew there was already no turning back. She had fallen for him. Deeply.

But Sebastian wouldn’t budge, he was only grinning more widely when he realised that Y/N, the one he was looking for, was safely in his arms.

“Do you know that I have a countrywide search put out for you?” He asked casually, not even minding that she was trying to break free of his hold. Letting his fingers run through her hair, silently comforting her.

“Bash, have you even realised who I am?” Y/N looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “I'm a nobody. A maid at best. I have no prospects, no dowry. I am not someone you want next to you to rule a kingdom.”

Sebastian laughed at that, pulling the smaller one closer to his chest, letting his head fall on her own again. “That’s where you’re wrong, darling,” He inhaled her scent before placing a kiss on her head.

“You’re strong, you’re honest. Your heart is made of gold. You’re the only person I want to share the throne with.”

She finally looked up into his eyes, to see the most sincere gaze ever directed towards her.

“Well, aren’t you supposed to give me a shoe to try on then? Or have I heard wrong?” She finally retaliated and he chuckled at that.

“Fair enough,” he said before slowly kneeling in front of Y/N.

She looked at him, Prince Sebastian, no, King Sebastian now, on one knee, holding up a glass shoe.

Her glass shoe.

“May I?” Bash cheekily said, before Y/N blushed, and pulled up her skirt just a bit to give Sebastian her leg.

Bash placed her foot in the shoe, and as a surprise to neither of them, it fit her perfectly. His eyes found hers instantly, a strong, confident look in his gaze.

“Can I now, finally, know your name?”

She laughed at that, a tear escaping her eye as she finally began to realise that her old life was coming to an end.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” she said as Sebastian’s eyes glossed over as well.

“Y/N,” Bash tried the name out on his tongue, and he liked how it sounded. He closed his eyes and shook his head, before looking at Y/N again with a new determination in his face.

“Y/N, would you please do me the honour of marrying me and making me the happiest man to ever walk this Earth? I promise to give everything in me to make you happy. To keep you safe. Please, just please, end my misery and come back to the castle with me. As my equal. As my Queen.”

Y/N fell on her knees in front of Bash, her tears falling on her cheeks, although she did not care for them at that moment. All she saw was Sebastian’s face near her as she started to nod and laugh.

“Yes?” Bash looked at Y/N with a hopeful gaze, placing his hands on either side of her face, and pulling her towards him.

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling Bash’s forehead on her own.

“Yes.” 

Time stopped then.

Sebastian pulled Y/N closer to himself and finally connected their lips. Magical was not even the word to begin to describe how it felt like. They were made for each other, of that, were they both certain. Y/N had never experienced anything like this before. His lips were so smooth and soft on her own that she let out a whimper. Bash smiled at that and Y/N followed. 

They both pulled away, grinning at each other.

“I love you,” Bash said, caressing Y/N’s face with his right hand.

“I love you,” Y/N said before Bash connected their lips again.

It was no surprise that the wedding of Y/N and Sebastian happened only a week after their first kiss. Y/N had moved into the castle immediately after Sebastian had caught her locked up in the storage room. Madam Deveraux was put to trial, for treating Y/N the way she had. Arabella and Isadora, although crude in their temper, were pardoned, but made to leave the country, effective immediately. 

As for Y/N and Sebastian?

Well, their story is just at the beginning, filled with sweet kisses and even sweeter memories.

“Do you have any idea how happy you’ve made me?” Bash asked as he held Y/N, his wife now, close to himself.

“Hmm, I can begin to imagine it’s something close to the way I feel,” Y/N chuckled and Sebastian laughed, finally taking a look at her.

Ethereal, he thought. She stood in front of him in their shared bedroom, still in her white gorgeous wedding gown.

Sebastian just shook his head, still in disbelief that his happily ever after was in his arms at last. He pulled Y/N closer and placed his lips on hers. The one of many kisses shared that night.

#sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan cinderella au #sebastian stan fairytale au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

[throneofsapphics]

misted realities

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: Aelin pressed her lips to your forehead, running a thumb over your cheek. “We’ll be back soon, love,” she murmured - as if you might hear, and tucked the blankets tightly around you. A wicked storm was brewing outside. Not uncommon for this time of year, but it felt like a bad omen. 

Warnings: angst, injuries, mentions of torture/death, mentions of blood 

Word Count: ~8k

A/N: based on this request! reader is fae, has earth-based magic. 

“You never have time for me anymore,” you fought to keep your voice down, and clenched your fists to hide your shaking hands. 

“Gods,” Aelin sighed. “We’re all busy,” she did look exhausted, small circles forming under the Queen’s eyes. Days would go by when the three of you barely passed a few sentences between each other. At least between you and them. 

“I know,” you bit down on your bottom lip, willing the tears to disappear from the corners of your eyes. “I just want to spend more time with you.” 

“Don’t cry,” Rowan’s curt tone shocked you. Tears were replaced by anger, beginning to simmer deep inside of you. “You see us everyday.” He’s right, you sleep in the same bed each night. But, as soon as they come in - they’re ready for bed. When they wake, it’s lucky if you have mere minutes to speak with them before they’re gone. 

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed. “Right.” 

Rowan’s eyes rolled, but he strode towards you, one hand braced on your shoulder, the other cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes searched your face, thumb wiping away one of the stray tears. “We’ll talk about this later.” 

You took a step back, shaking off his grip. 

“It’s always later,” you spit out. 

Aelin’s fingertips rubbed at her temples as she glanced at the clock. “We don’t have time for this.” 

They never have time, not anymore. In the beginning, it felt like they would always make time for you - always time to go out into the forest, to go into the city, to just exist together.  Maybe you were being selfish, they’re the Queen and King of Terrasen for gods sake. But, where they used to seek you out, now you always chased after them and it was getting exhausting. Months of the same thing. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you let out a slow breath, but it did nothing to abate the tightness in your chest. Aelin frowned, lips pressing into a tight line. “I’m … I'm just overthinking.” 

Rowan’s look said; obviously, but Aelin still seemed a bit disgruntled. She glanced at the clock again. 

“We have to go,” she glanced over to Rowan. He gave her a soft smile, shot a nod your way, and looped his arm through hers before leaving the room. You stared after them, at the closed door. Never, they’d never left like that before. Not even a hug, or a i’ll see you later. Or have a good day. You clenched your fists at your side, gripping the fabric tightly. 

Space, maybe some time away from here would do you good. Ella had invited you on a trip, one you declined because you thought they would have a free day this weekend. But, at this point, who even knows if they’d want to spend it with you? You couldn’t put everything else on hold in the hopes that they might decide to grace you with their attention. If you remembered correctly, the trip began tomorrow. 

Slipping on your boots, you left the castle as quickly as possible - to find her and tell her to add one to the itinerary. 

It would be telling, that’s for certain. Either they’d miss you or … maybe realize they were better off without you. You prayed you could handle the truth, whatever it might be. 

-

“I’m leaving for a trip with my cousins tomorrow, I’ll spend the night at Ella’s. It’s an early start.” You stood in the door of the bedroom, fresh out of a bath, a pack slung over your shoulder. She’d been thrilled and shocked you decided to come along. Excited enough you felt some shame - shame that you hadn’t spent time amongst your family. That you’d focused so much on your relationship it surprised them you would go along. 

Aelin’s eyes flicked up from her book, her legs stretched across Rowan’s lap. “Be safe.” 

How long had they been out here? Not bothering to come say hello to you? Rowan gave a curt nod. It felt like a clear dismissal, and you took it. 

You gave them a tight smile, one they didn’t see, and strode for the door - shoulders back and head high. After you’d passed the gates, you realized they hadn’t asked where you were going, or when you would be back. 

-

The Oakwald was gorgeous this time of year. Brannon’s forest. It always felt … peaceful. Like a place you could come to to escape the rest of your thoughts. The trip had gone well, visiting a few old friends in a neighboring province. A week long trip, and one of the best weeks you’d had in a while. 

They were in the back of your mind, not consuming your thoughts, not constantly lingering in the front. All of your focus went to your family, your friends, and on spending quality time with them. It was a thing of beauty, and something that left you feeling revived. Alive again. You’d given too much of yourself to them, and received too little in return. King or Queen aside, you deserved more than half-assed attempts and short words. Your last interaction with them had sealed it. Anything you might have had at one point, had faded away. There’s no sense in drawing out something like this. No sense in you desperately begging for any scrap of affection or attention. You had more respect for yourself than that. 

You approached the next clearing, and the hair on the back of your neck stood. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Something here was off. You stopped at the edge, one hand palming the knife at your side, and scanned the surrounding treeline. 

“Down,” you shouted as a figure moved, your Fae hearing picking up the slight zing of an arrow string pulled taut. They listened, and dove to the ground behind some rocks. With another thought, the ground underneath the attackers shifted, rolling up to knock whoever it was off balance. You dove to the forest floor, arrows still flew, one lodging in your thigh - the other grazing your arm, head knocking against the rocks. Pain shot through your body, sending white spots through your vision - but you gritted your teeth and rolled, righting yourself up to a crouch. 

It all happened in seconds. Your right wrist, your dominant wrist, was broken - and you reached for your dagger with your left. You felt Ella’s distinct magic - a shield of wind coming to surround the three of you, and heard the sound of Edde’s bowstring pulling taught, and your own magic acting of its own accord. Sentient, almost. Maybe it was your subconscious guiding it. 

The rest passed in a blur, all you knew was fifteen bodies were left by the end of it. Five with arrows through their skulls, others with blue faces - like someone had ripped the air from their lungs, the rest strangled by branches and vines. Looks like the last three had gotten their wits about them and fled. The three of you fought together before, and had spent a magic-less decade together with the Wolf-Tribe. You knew what you were doing. Still, you had gotten lucky. They caught you by surprise. 

Edde was scouting the area ahead, Ella looking at your wounds anxiously. Neither of you could heal, none of your magic lent to that. 

“It’s fine,” you insisted. It was - surface wounds in all honesty. The biggest risk now was infection. As soon as you got to a healer, you’d be fine. “We can turn back-” 

“Going back will add an extra three hours,” Edde said as she entered, a handful of herbs in her hand. She chewed them, before packing them onto the wound on your arm, and ripping part of her shirt. “Crude, but it’ll keep infection away for now.” 

“I don’t want to go back.” You winced, trying not to sound like a whining child. If you made it to the next town, someone could easily send a messenger to Orynth with the information. Plus, there were sentries posted there. But … the threat was closer to Orynth, and you did have a moral obligation to inform them of any dangers present. Ella gave you a sympathetic look. You’d given them the run down about the status of your relationship in the beginning of your trip, and they knew you well enough to pick up that you didn’t want to speak about them further. 

Edde had a forced grin on her face, “I’m the oldest - and I say we’re going home.” 

You appreciated her attempt at humor, and sighed. Neither of them suggested shifting and going ahead - it might have been smart but the three of you were stronger together. Leaving one of them alone with you, injured, would be a risk - having one of you alone would be another risk, and you weren’t taking any of those. 

Battered, and bruised, your cousins helped you back to the castle, each of your arms propped over one of their shoulders. Edde had slung you over her shoulder for part of it, but when you sensed her strength waning you insisted on walking. The three of you had worse in the past, you could walk on an injured leg. The pounding in your head was more obnoxious anyway. 

Fenrys saw you first. Thankfully. You didn’t want to see Rowan or Aelin yet.

The male told the two of them to stay in place, actually said ‘don’t fucking move,’ and you didn’t argue as he swept you in his arms, mouthing a ‘sorry’ over his shoulder. They both shrugged, sending a knowing glance to each other. 

“Is there any chance you won’t tell them?” You mumbled. 

“Trouble in paradise?” He teased, his voice strained. You snarled at him, and he snorted. “You know I have to.” 

Even if he didn’t have to, he would. He barked an order at a passing sentry, and you kept your mouth clamped shut as he slipped between the folds of the world, your stomach churning. 

-

The poor messenger sent to the Queen and King was shaking. Rowan stiffened. He knew this male to be level headed, calm, and stoic. But here he was - shaking like a leaf, like a soldier after his first blood drawn. 

“Y/n,” he started, “is in the healers-” 

Aelin shoved him to the side and sprinted out the door. Rowan didn’t wait for him to finish either and took off after her. Their footsteps sprinted down the halls, silent on the stone as they ran faster than they ever had. They cleared through the hallways with ease, hands wrapping around the corners to propel themselves forward.

-

“We need to stop the bleeding.” One of the healers said, in a firm no-nonsense tone, and you yelped as she began undoing the half-assed bandages, giving an appreciative nod at the herbs. Your eyes shut closed, focusing on anything but the lashing pain coming from your thigh. At least the arrow was lodged well enough that keeping the piece inside stopped any bleeding. 

The door flung open. Rowan and Aelin stood there - pure panic and wrath coming from each of them. Rowan eyed both healers, with startling intensity. You fought back the words on the tip of your tongue - to tell them to leave, to get out of there. 

“Leave.” Rowan ordered both of the healers instead. You opened your mouth to protest, but he fixed you with a look and you shut it again. Testing him right now - at least in front of the other females, might not be a wise idea.

His predatory attention stayed on you as he made his way across the room. Aelin, however, kept an eye on the women, watching until the door closed firmly behind them, before rushing over to your side. 

Rowan managed to stay cool, but Aelin cursed under her breath as she took in your wounds. A broken wrist, a deceptively deep gash on your arm, part of an arrow stuck out of your thigh. You’d cut the rest off to make travel back a bit easier. 

“I didn’t think you’d care,” you said bitterly. Rowan ignored you - giving instructions to Aelin instead. Who, surprisingly, listened without questioning - fetching whatever items he ordered. 

“Tell me what happened.” He ordered, and you paused, tilting your head. He was focused on your wound, magic starting to swirl over your skin. “Now,” he didn’t look up at you. 

You let out a low exhale, but told him what happened, recalling every detail you could. 

“Does anything else hurt?” Aelin asked as Rowan finished up. 

“No,” you said quietly. Your head did, a bit, from impact - but you didn’t want them to think you’re weak, or complaining. The other ones were more serious, but healed almost as if nothing had happened, only scars in their place. You’d be sore for a few days, but that should be all. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” Aelin held out a hand for you. You reached to take it, but Rowan cut in - sweeping you up into his arms instead. You stiffened in his hold, but he only tightened, holding you close to him. 

They were both silent on the walk back, not that it mattered - you drifted into sleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. 

-

Aedion took in their report with a grim face, before sending out scouts to locate the survivors. Ones who managed to survive the three of you. Your cousins headed back out with them to show the way. He had instructed them to bring them in alive, if possible. 

He’d let them rot in the dungeons, let them fester until Aelin and Rowan got their turn. They wouldn’t make it out of there alive, he knew that for certain. 

-

Rowan had tossed and turned all night. Over the last week, he had no idea where you were or when you were coming back. He could’ve reached out to someone in town - one of your other family members, but he didn’t want to look like a fool. Like an idiot who didn’t bother to ask. Like what he was. 

Aelin was right that they were busier than usual, and had been for the last few months. But, they had a free day this weekend - and you knew that, but still chose to leave. They’d cleared that night for you, to get back and spend time with you. When they got there - he could hear you packing, and bitter anger started simmering inside of him. He thought you were running away at the first sign of trouble. 

First, you said they never had time for you, and when they did have free time - you left. It pissed him off. If he was being objective, he could see where you were coming from. He’d sworn to himself he’d make it up to you, when things calmed down. Gods, you’d moved in - at his and Aelin’s insistence - so they could spend more time together. 

You were younger, and hadn’t settled yet. Maybe he was an idiot - still thinking in years and decades while you were thinking in weeks and months. Three months to him was nothing. But … you didn’t have the full grasp on immortality yet. 

Regardless, you were back now - and safe. There’s no gods-damned way he’d let you leave that bed anytime soon. Not until you were completely healed and whole. He propped himself up on one arm, Aelin dozed fitfully next to you, one arm slung over your waist, her front pressing into your back, wrapping herself around you like she might shield you from the world. He brushed a few strands from your face, frowning at the small abrasion on your temple. He’d missed that, but it was mostly healed now - just a light pink scratch in its wake. 

In the morning, he’d say his apologies when you woke. You needed sleep now. 

-

“Y/n,” Aelin called, brushing her thumb against your cheek. You let out a slow breath, but didn’t open your eyes. Your heartbeat was still strong, breaths still even. 

“Let her sleep it off,” Rowan advised, already pulling a shirt over his head. They’d cleared their schedule as much as possible - only one meeting they wouldn’t be able to miss. He’d already arranged for sentries to be posted at their doorway, with orders to let nobody but them, Fenrys, or Aedion through. Two hours, and they’d be right back at your side. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, glancing up at the clock. It was nearly eight in the morning, and you’d knocked out around eight last night. In all honesty, if you’d woken up right then she would’ve said fuck it to the meeting. Even though the meeting had been called because of what happened yesterday. Her blood began to boil again. Aedion had assured her they were searching for the ones that had done this to you. And bringing them back - alive. But, given your cousins were on the hunt she couldn’t say what state they would be in. Fae can be especially ruthless where their family was concerned, and the three of you were close. 

Aedion stood in the door, partially blocked by Rowan’s figure as she ran a hand over your hair, smoothing through some of the tangled strands. She was surprised you’d even let her help you take a bath. Maybe you were too exhausted to protest. Aelin would’ve preferred for you to yell - to scream, anything besides the quiet silence you’d returned with. 

“Edde and Ella are guiding them.” She knew those names - your cousins. “I made them swear to bring them back alive.” Aelin almost laughed that he’d made the two females promise. 

“Let me know as soon as they return.” Rowan instructed, and slammed the door in his face. 

“That was rude,” she said absentmindedly. 

“He can handle it.” Rowan countered, stopping at the edge of the bed. She glanced up at him, but his expression was unreadable. Aelin reached out and squeezed his hand. They were both keeping a thin lid on their anger. 

“Yes,” he sighed, dragging her back to the present. “Her body needs rest.” 

Aelin pressed her lips to your forehead, running a thumb over your cheek. “We’ll be back soon, love,” she murmured - as if you might hear, and tucked the blankets tightly around you. A thought had a fire roaring in the corner. You needed to stay warm. It was still early autumn, but a chill had set in overnight, the temperatures dipping to just above freezing. Clouds had rolled in overnight, putting an end to the sunny few weeks they had. A wicked storm was brewing outside. Not uncommon for this time of year, but it felt like a bad omen. 

-

Rowan could tell Aelin was forcing herself not to sprint back to the room. They’d made a tentative plan - check on you, then grab a healer to come do a more thorough check. Something they should’ve done last night, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of anyone else near you in that vulnerable state. He’d barely kept his cool with Aedion in the doorway. Only knowledge of your friendship with the male and his blood oath to their Queen kept him from ripping his head off for being too close. 

Aelin pushed the door open ahead of him, spotting your form still sleeping on their bed, in the exact position they’d left you in. Something was wrong. You should’ve woken by now - or at least moved. You always tossed and turned in your sleep. But … you had been rather still last night. His pace picked up, overtaking Aelin as he yanked the covers back.

“Y/n.” He called, running a hand down your arm. Cold, your skin was cold. The room is warm - a fire still burning in the corner. Panic rose inside of him - your heart was still beating, breaths still even. He shook your shoulder lightly. He called your name again - louder. Aelin did as well. No response. Nothing. 

Aelin had darted for the door, he vaguely heard her shouting something at one of the guards in the hallway, the sound of other footsteps pounding down the hallway, but he couldn’t take his gaze away from you. Your lips, pale and cracked slightly. 

“Wake up sweetheart,” he tried keeping his voice gentle this time. Nothing. He shook you again. “Wake up,” his chest tightened, throat constricting. 

“Rowan,” Aelin’s voice vaguely registered, and he felt two hands cover his, holding them still. Aelin’s face came into his view, everything else blurred out around it. “Don’t shake her.” A pure command, rolling from his Queen. He didn’t bother masking any of the emotions in his face, he couldn’t - not now. 

He called your name again instead, Aelin slowly pushed his hands away from you. They hung limply at his side. His magic had checked over you at least three times and he couldn’t find anything. Why hadn’t he gotten a healer last night? Why weren’t you waking up? He should’ve asked about the cut on your head. Or have woken you up during the night to check on you. How many hours had he spent staring at you? 

He let out a low snarl as a healer stood in the doorway, turning to block her view of your body. 

“She needs her help,” Aelin said - gentle but firm. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the healer and took a few steps away. The woman wasted no time rushing towards you. Another healer came in behind her. And another. He tensed at all of the new people - all surrounding you. Touching you. 

“Rowan.” Aelin snapped, and he met her eyes. “I don’t like it either. She needs help.”

When was the last time Aelin had been the voice of reason? Perhaps she was more in touch with her human side. 

“Reign it in or leave,” one of the healers - a female with a no-nonsense tone and stature barked. He pulled his power back in, unaware he’d let it reel from him. His eyes never left you, as he stood with his back to the wall. Centuries of self-control went into keeping himself in place. One wrong move and -

“Rowan,” he heard Aelin snarl. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from you to look at her. Keep it together. They’re helping. 

He took a few deep breaths. 

-

“We need water and clean towels.” The healer in charge announced. One of the younger ones went to move, but she held up a hand and sent a knowing glance to Aelin. Rowan had been a live fuse next to her. 

“Rowan, go get them.” She gave the order, but not pulling on the bond. She’d already had to do that once, to get him to stop trying to shake you awake. His eyes narrowed at her, but he listened. He needed something to keep himself from murdering everything within a foot of you. A basic command, to make him feel useful - to serve in the way Fae males needed.

She did wonder how she was the reasonable one in this situation. Not that she was feeling very reasonable. One threatening move from the healers … and she wouldn’t be responsible for what happened to them. The three of them were very aware of how on edge the two were. The one in charge was Fae, the other two humans - and seemed to be taking cues from her. Only focusing on reigning in Rowan kept her from losing her calm. 

This kind of fear … only when she’d almost lost Rowan those years ago - when he took the arrow for her, had she felt something similar to this. That’s when she realized he was her… Gods. 

No, no, no, a voice inside of her head screamed at her as she dropped to her knees, fingers digging into the carpet. Why now? When she was … The healers hadn’t turned to look at her. Nobody could see the war or anguish in her mind. Rowan returned, abruptly shoving the water and towels into one of their arms before he was at her side, arm wrapped over her shoulders. 

“I know fireheart,” he murmured. He doesn’t. He doesn’t know. A hand gripped her chin, and dark green iris’s met her own. “It’ll be fine,” he said with such conviction she believed wholeheartedly. It had to be. She wouldn’t accept any other alternative. 

-

You were in a murky fog, voices blurring over, shapes coming in and out of your vision. You spun in a circle - but it was all consuming. Was this your mind? Had it been scrambled somehow? Last you remembered, you were being tucked into bed by … you couldn’t put a finger on who. Then darkness. A sleep so heavy it pulled you under within seconds. 

Turquoise eyes ringed in gold. You focused on them, trying to pull yourself out of this abyss - towards the colors you recognized so easily. Who did they belong to? You couldn’t remember. The fog covered them again. Gone. You deflated. Would they come back? 

-

Fenrys frowned from the doorway. Rowan was pacing, the carpet looked worn where he walked back and forth. Everyone was on edge in the castle. In Orynth really. The scouting party sent word earlier that they’d arrive with the three remaining combatants tomorrow. When he told Rowan - a steely glint he recognized came over the male's eyes. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad for them, they’d deserve everything coming their way - and more. They knew who they were attacking. It wasn’t a secret you were Rowan and Aelins partner. 

 In all honesty, he’s surprised those were the only injuries the three of you sustained. Well, you were the only injured party. Eighteen against three. For humans, the odds would seem astronomical - and likely whoever it was had underestimated the fact that they were going up against well trained Fae warriors. Given how sweet and innocent you look, they probably thought you were an easy target. But, you’d seen the thick of the fighting in Orynth and survived ten years in Erilea with the Wolf-Tribe. 

The healers had given you ten days. Ten days before they feared there might be some kind of irreparable brain damage. 

More than anything, he wanted for you to wake - to be healthy and whole. Mainly because you were his friend. But, based on his conversation with Aelin the other night … there was more at stake. Once she told him, he realized the blood oath tugged a different kind of loyalty towards you as well. 

“Fenrys,” he heard her. He was still in Wolf form by their door, standing guard. Something he did without having to be asked. He blinked three times, using the old code from years ago; ‘are you alright?’

Two blinks, ‘no.’ She pressed her back against the wall, glancing up and down the corridor, before slowly lowering herself to the ground. He hadn’t seen his Queen look this lost in years. She had something to say - something she needed to, and he patiently waited for her to speak. 

“I hadn’t felt like this since Rowan took the arrow for me, and that’s when I realized …” Her head fell into her palms. He knew exactly what she meant. Fenrys shifted into human form, taking a seat beside her. “Is it even possible? Is this some sort of cruel joke? Is this my punishment?” 

She was bearing her heart, throwing it out on a platter. 

“It’s possible.” He answered her first question. The others, he didn’t know how to respond but … he tried. “Having a mate is never a punishment.”

“But .. Rowan.” He could hear the question; ‘is Rowan hers too?’ 

He leaned his head back against the wall, kicking his legs out in front of him. “Based on his … behavior. I’d be surprised if she wasn’t.” 

“Isn’t this typical for Fae?” 

The protectiveness, the desire to protect those they consider theirs, when they’re protective and vulnerable. But, he’s known Rowan for decades, and he’s only ever acted this way with Aelin. “It is, but he’s acting the same way he does with you.” 

Tension left her body in a giant wave. “What do I do? Do you think he knows?” 

Fenrys stilled. Whitethorn would know - he’d at least have a vague idea. He settled on, “he probably knows.” 

Aelin looked at him, waiting for him to answer her first question. “When have you ever let anyone tell you what to do?” He teased her. She rolled her eyes, and he could’ve cheered at the normal gesture. Something besides misery and pain.

“I was asking for advice, asshole.” 

Fenrys forced himself to focus back on the present. The healer looked like she was about at his limits with Rowan. She shot Fenrys a pleading glance. He really did admire her patience. 

“I’ll stay with her.” He heard Aedion from behind him. Backup, that was good. Rowan turned slowly, eyeing both of them with a predator's glance. Finally, he nodded at Aedion - giving his permission. If you were awake to see this, you’d probably rip him a new one. Giving permission for anyone else to be around you. If - when, you woke, you’d be in for a whole different world of territorial nonsense. 

Fenrys decided to take some initiative, and taunted Rowan. “You’re getting rusty, cooped up in here,” and shot him a shit-eating grin he knew would provoke a reaction. Sure enough, Rowan stormed out the door, jerking his chin for him to follow. Aedion shot him a sympathetic glance, and he elbowed the male harshly in the ribs. Although he told Aelin her husband probably knows, he’s not going to be the one to bring it up to him. That’s a journey they’ll have to take for themselves. For now, he’ll do his best to taunt some of the rage out of him - maybe make him more tolerable for the rest of them to be around. 

One thing Fenrys knows he’s good at, the best at, is pissing his royal Highness off. 

-

“Just come back.” A male said to you. The fog cleared slightly, and a blurry face peered down at you. A male with turquoise and gold eyes. Everything else blurred in and out, but the colors stayed. You could nearly feel the pain inside of them. “I know you’re mad at them, but they love you. They’ve been losing their minds, we all have.” You can’t remember who you’re mad at, or why. 

“Edde and Ella are hunting them down. They’ll be back tomorrow.” 

The names sparked something in you. A vague splinter of memory you tried to hold on to. Like water, it slipped through your fingers. You tried to speak - to scream, but your voice disappeared in the fog. The eyes withdrew from your view. 

-

“Can she hear anything?” Aelin asked - her voice still tight. 

“We don’t know.” The healer dismissed herself. 

She was tired of hearing that. We don’t know. We’re not certain. We can’t tell. 

Day seven. Three more days, the healers had given you three more days until they feared the damage was irreparable. 

But … they didn’t know how strong you were, not like she did. You’d survived ten years in hiding - you’d survived that last battle, the ambush - three against eighteen, survived dealing with her and Rowan’s bullshit. She refused to accept this kind of ending, refused to lose her mate - even if you didn’t know it yet. 

She imagined all of the concerns you might have, and all of the ways she would tell you you’re wrong. When you woke, she wondered if the bond would snap for you immediately. Probably not. She hasn’t found a good chance to approach Rowan about it - but she thinks he knows. And that he’s aware she does. Very little gets by him. She told Fenrys because she had to speak to someone, but saying it to Rowan felt too real. 

Aelin wouldn’t lose you. But knowing and having loved you, no matter how shitty she was at it, was better than never knowing you at all. 

She squeezed your hand. “Come back,” she pleaded, “please.” 

Her thumb gently traced your cheekbone. Cold. Over her shoulder, the fire was still going strong. There’s so many blankets surrounding you, she feared you might suffocate if she added another. Neither she or Rowan had slept well in the last week. They slept in shifts, always wanting one of them to be awake in case anything changed - in case you woke. The others ran the castle, letting the two of them get away with making an occasional appearance. 

They’d somehow managed to keep what happened underwraps. And they would - until they got their answers. Tomorrow, their new guests would arrive. Along with the rest of her court. She hated that she’d have to divide her attention away from you - to share her attention with anyone else. 

The ever changing scent hit the door, followed by a gentle knock. She tore her attention away from you, heavy legs carrying her to the door. 

Lysandra knew better than to try and come in without invitation. Even though the shifter was one of her closest friends, she still battled against her instincts to tell her to go the fuck away. 

Worry was evident all over the shifter’s face as she glanced at your form, surrounded by a mountain of pillows and blankets. Aelin couldn’t stop the small snarl beginning in her throat. Too long. She was looking too long. Quickly, Lysandra drew her attention back to her, and she shot her an apologetic grimace. 

“Any change?” 

Aelin shook her head, tears building in the corners of her eyes. She let Lysandra take her in her arms, hold her close and tight. 

“She’ll come back.” She didn’t sound too convinced. Aelin abruptly pulled back. 

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” she snapped, and then winced, opening her mouth again. 

“You don’t need to apologize.” Lysandra said quickly. 

“No. I’m being unreasonable.” Aelin ran her hands down her face, looking back at you. She could still hear your heartbeat. Strong. Lysandra’s eyes dug into her. Her friend was always too perceptive. “Don’t say it,” she pleaded without looking at her. Of course she knows. 

“Is he…” 

“I think so,” Aelin interrupted her before she could say the actual word. Mate. Even thinking it brought pain - launching right through her chest, ripping it in half. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Alright.” Lys’s tone said she very much believes she should talk about it. She’d tell her exactly where she could shove her beliefs if she pushed any further. “You need to go beat the shit out of someone.” Her friend said instead. 

Aelin slowly turned her head over her shoulder, raising one brow, “are you volunteering?” 

“I’ll find you a volunteer,” she winked at her, before heading out the door. 

“Get Aedion,” she shouted after her. 

Aelin flexed her hands. Maybe getting out some of the rage would be good. Fenrys and her cousin had alternated taking the brunt of her and Rowan’s pent up frustration and rage. She highly suspected they didn’t trust anyone else to take them on and survive the encounter. She looked back through the open doorway. You’d come back, she knew it. 

-

“It’s been ten days.” You heard a voice. Ten days, you’d heard that over and over again and knew it related to you. 

You had ten days to ‘come back,’ you’d figured out that’s what you needed to do. 

“Tell me how,” you’d screamed into nothingness. “I want to, help me” But you were lost, wandering around in this blurry half-reality. Voices and faces came in and out, words coming in fragments, sometimes in sentences, but nothing concrete. 

“We’ve done everything we can. It’s time to consider if…” 

Cries and screams; you’re wrong, she’ll come back, get the fuck out. Doors slammed. 

Two faces swarmed above you, clearer than before. Turquoise ringed with gold. Green. A name. They kept repeating a name over and over again. 

“Please, love,” a feminine pleaded. 

“We need you,” the male one added. 

“Help me,” you begged, “help me. help me. help me.”

-

Twelve days. The healers were still working with you - keeping your muscles from atrophying, pushing nutrient dense tonics down your throat, checking your vitals, using magic to test for other things. 

Brain activity, you still had that - but they couldn’t tell how much. Or how much of you would be left when you returned. 

The head healer sat down next to her, catching her attention. 

“What?” Aelin tried to keep her voice gentle, but had a feeling she failed miserably. To her credit, the woman didn’t look ruffled. 

“The only way she’ll come back now is if she wants to. She needs a reason to return, your Majesty.” 

The woman left before Aelin could ask any more questions. 

-

“The only way she’ll come back now is if she wants to. She needs a reason to return.” 

You wanted it, now you needed to find a reason. You paced, or at least you thought you did, in this mental prison. 

Isn’t wanting it reason enough? There’s something to return to. Names fluttered through your mind. You’d repeated them to yourself over and over again, unwilling to let them go. 

Edde. Ella. Fenrys. Aedion. Aelin. Rowan. 

The last two felt the strongest. You didn’t know who they were, but knew they needed you. If you disappeared completely, it would hurt them. Would hurt all of them. 

You glanced down at your arms, spotting the fresh white scar slashing one of them, and another smaller scar on your thigh. Others littered your body in various places. You’ve fought before, but not like this. Pitting your mind and will against whatever abyss this is. 

If it’s an abyss … maybe you need to build a ladder to climb out. You imagined strands of turquoise, gold, and green swirling in front of you, forming a link. As you reached out, they disappeared on touch. Frustration wouldn’t help you now. You would do this. You wouldn’t accept any other option. 

-

Fenrys leaned back against the wall in the dungeon, watching Rowan work before him. Lorcan stood to his left. He wasn’t surprised the male had shown up. He wouldn’t let Elide go anywhere alone, not since there’d just been an attack. Or in general. He wasn’t phased by anything Rowan was doing before them. Or what Aelin had done earlier. 

They’d gotten their answers days ago, now it was vengeance. 

“She’s their mate.” Lorcan said under his breath, so only he could hear. Not a question. Fenrys didn’t comment. Rowan was enacting the kind of wrath only a mated male could. The three males had already begged for death, several times. He didn’t feel pity, or any inclination towards mercy, but if he did he wouldn’t dare interrupt. Only a fool would. 

Part of him wondered if Rowan was making up for time he didn’t get to spend with Cairn. He wasn’t stupid enough to ask the question. Besides the attack on you, they’d learned several other vital bits of information from the males. At first, they’d made the mistake of bragging. Of what they planned to do to you - speaking to each other. Others might’ve called it stupid to keep them together, but the demi-Fae guards posted could hear every one of their ‘whispers,’ and the things they’d reported made him sick and furious.

They were on day thirteen. The healers said ten. Rowan and Aelin wouldn’t give up. Others had started thinking in if’s, but they refused.

Lorcan nudged him, jerking his chin towards the door. He took one more glance at Rowan, still occupied, and followed. 

“What is it?” He crossed his arms as they left earshot. Lorcan had a … look on his face. Strange, considering the bastard usually never showed any kind of emotion. Worried? He wasn’t particularly close to you, and had only met you on a few occasions. 

“Do you think she’ll wake?” 

“Yes.” He replied instantly. “There’s no other option.”

Lorcan let out a slow breath. “If they lose her …” 

“I know.” 

They might lose their Queen and King too. Everyone had thought of it, even if nobody dared to voice it. 

-

It wasn’t improving as quickly as you’d hoped it would. But - you could feel it. It was a physical thing, living and sentient almost. You let your fingers run over one of them, colors swirled together and shined. It was warm to the touch, and slid easily over your fingertips. You wrapped your hand around it, and it held firm. You reached for the next. It held. 

With the next one, you brought your hand up, your foot settling into the bottom ledge. It was working. You refocused your breaths and tilted your chin up. Endless mist covered your vision, only seeing where your hand landed next. 

Trust, you needed to trust that you could pull yourself out. Trust someone would be there to catch you. 

-

Aelin knew she was sleep-deprived, and figured the rustling from the room was a hallucination. She’d heard it several times while slipping out the door, only to rush back in and find you in the same position. 

Day twenty. Twenty days of hell, of waiting. There wasn’t anything she could fix, she could only hope and trust you were doing what you could. Gods, she spoke to you as much as she could. Aelin read books, talked about everything and nothing in hopes you would hear. There was only one subject she’d refused to approach, refused to speak aloud. Would that be the key? Could that be the reason you needed? The one that the healer had mentioned. She hadn’t told Rowan about the conversation … she swallowed harshly, and pulled her husband aside. Maybe now was the time to do it. 

Rowan read the look in her eyes and kicked everyone out of the room. 

“The healer told me that it’s … that she needs …” 

“She told me too,” Rowan interrupted her rambling. He gave her a tight smile, and pulled her into his chest. His chin rested on top of her head, and she leaned in to hear her heartbeat. “Are we going to acknowledge it?” 

She leaned her head back enough to meet his eyes, and took a breath before she said the thing haunting her mind for the last twenty days. “That we have another mate?”

Rowan nodded. She could see the relief flooding over his features, and imagined the same was showing on hers. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “This doesn’t mean I love you any less.” 

“I know.” She huffed out a laugh. You had two mates waiting for you, when you get back. Two who will burn the entire world down to get you back here if they had to. “We’ll get our mate back.” 

-

Mate. You blinked as you heard the word. So soft you almost missed it. Aelin and Rowan. 

You reached another hand, and could see the next ring, and the next. The world cleared around you. 

Soft cloth and fur covered you, you twitched your fingers - you could feel it. It was real. It had to be. 

Your eyes opened, and you shut them quickly. Too bright. 

A few seconds later, you squinted and slowly let yourself adjust. 

Gods, how many blankets did one person need? Your entire body was heavy and slow, but you managed to wiggle out from under the cloth mountain, making it to the edge of the bed. Had you been alone this entire time? Had you imagined Aelin and Rowan? 

Maybe a stranger had found you and brought you back. But … the room was familiar. Maybe this was another dream, a new reality your mind trapped you in. 

You let your feet hit the soft carpeted floor, pressing yourself up to stand. You felt surprisingly steady and took a few tentative steps. 

It was sunny outside. Gods, you needed to feel the sun on your skin - even if it’s fake, even if this isn’t real. 

Your hand gripped the doorknob, slowly opening the door to the balcony. A chilly wind hit you and you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, ignoring the cold biting at your toes and skin as you took a step out. Based on the sun, it’s about mid morning - at least in this dream world. You wandered towards the railing, letting your hands travel over the wood - worn with time but still strong. 

Orynth, you recognized the city. Maybe this could be real. But if it was real … wouldn’t Aelin or Rowan be here? Or had they just shoved you in here out of obligation. Maybe the word mate was a figment of your imagination as well. Your mind telling you what you want to hear. Footsteps filled your ears and you whirled around, bracing your hands on the railing behind you. 

-

Rowan stilled. He could’ve sworn he heard a door open. But … lately his mind had been playing tricks on him. Him and Aelin both. He pressed a kiss to the top of Aelin’s head. Now that they’d actually said it out loud, it felt like there was a lot more to lose. 

Twenty days. There wasn’t any change - but at least there wasn’t any deterioration. He wouldn’t give up hope on you, he couldn’t. Gods, he couldn’t lose you. Fuck. 

He took a step back, running a hand over his face. They’d been out of the room for maybe ten minutes, but he still felt like he needed to have eyes on you at all times, lest he miss something. Even if it’s just a twitch of your fingers. Rowan would give anything for that - for any kind of movement. Your eyes had twitched behind your eyelids at some points, and he knew you were dreaming or seeing something. It gave him hope. 

“Let’s go back in,” he murmured, and Aelin led the way back towards the door. She cracked it open and froze, breaths coming heavier, before she shoved it back open, turning to him with pure alarm on her face. He pushed past her. 

Gone. The bed was empty. Impossible. Nobody could get in here - they’d been right there. Right outside. 

The balcony door was cracked open. Aelin spotted it a second before him, and he’d never seen her move faster. He was right on her heels. Pure terror and dread filled him. Has someone taken you? They could cover a lot of ground in ten minutes. Why the hell had he left you alone? 

He barely stopped himself from crashing into Aelin. 

You were there. Hands braced against the wood railing, eyes wide in confusion. Awake and standing. Your brows furrowed as you saw them, shoulders tightening. 

“Not real,” you murmured to yourself. His heart dropped to his stomach. You looked vaguely like a cornered kitten. They would have to be very careful, considering how close you are to the ledge. Subtly, he let a shield of wind surround them, one that would push you back if you somehow fell past over the edge. 

“It’s real,” Aelin whispered, taking a few steps towards you. He fought the urge to rush over there and grab you, to tug you away from danger. You panicked and confused. He should’ve been there when you woke, to see your pretty eyes open again. To tell you how much you mean to him. How he’s thought about you every second. How he never should’ve let you leave on those terms. 

You didn’t move towards them, but didn’t try and make more space, and Aelin took that as a good thing. She slowly walked towards you, and he followed a few steps behind. 

Aelin stopped a few feet away, and held out her hand. 

Ten seconds passed. 

Your gaze switched between her hand, Aelin’s face, his. He held his breath. 

Ten more seconds. 

You took her hand with a cautious smile and tentative hope on your features. 

“It’s real,” he repeated Aelin’s words from earlier. He watched your fingers squeeze, and you took another step forwards, closer. Aelin’s other hand came up, brushing against your cheek. Rowan watched as you melted into her touch, eyes closing as you let out a little sigh. 

His knees hit the floor, tears openly streaming down his face. 

#rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #rowan whitethorn x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #throne of glass fic #throne of glass x reader

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI I WILL HIT U WITH A CHAIR

Chapter 003: Best Buds

It’s BYOB (bring your own bud) night at Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. With everyone under the influence, things start to get… a little complicated.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 8k

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, brief smut, p in v sex, protected sex, implications that steve is a long boi voyeurism, marijuana use, alcohol use, sexual harassment, physical altercations, NSFW, talks of a daddy/master kink, stripping, pole dancing, mutual pining, flirting, mentions of previous sexual abuse, profanities

* AUTHORS NOTE AT END OF CHAPTER ❤️‍🔥 *

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

Chapter 002 recap

"Doing it for Max," you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn't your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

Chapter 003

♡

“Hi I’m Hell, it’s nice to meet ya.”

“FUCK! Oh my god — fuck!”

Steve Harrington is definitely not a loser.

An assortment of mewls and profanities fill the hot air of Steve’s bedroom as he fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, the frame of his bed rattling to the speed of his deep, punishing thrusts.

It’s 7 AM.

Though you’re typically not an early riser, you’re more inclined to be if you were promised this type of treatment every day.

“Fuck!” you squeal again, knuckles sheet-white from how tightly you’re holding onto Steve’s linens. “Right there, Steve…”

Steve’s grip, meanwhile, rests at either side of your hips as he pistons himself further into your sopping, spongy heat. Too cock-drunk to even form a coherent sentence, you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head while you take his unforgiving length from behind.

“Yeah, you like that baby?” he coos. “You like how deep I feel inside of you?”

You nod. “Yes… yes…I-I love it.”

“Looks like I’m fucking you back to sleep again, aren’t I?”

“M—mhm,” you manage to purr, reaching for one of Steve’s hands to grab a hold of.

In fact you’re already seeing stars. Sex with Steve is an extravagant experience. Now that he’s comfortable in your presence, Steve spent all night performing for you, abusing your soaking cunt to the tempo of every song on his playlist, catering to your every need in the form of profound and agile strokes, exploring every inch of your body with his firm and knowledgable tongue, all while refusing to stop until you yourself were finished.

You chant his name aimlessly as he plows into you further, tucking a pillow above your head to protect you from any sharp wooden corners. Another thing Steve prioritizes as well? Your safety. All night it’s been your pleasure first before his own. Now you know why everyone in town calls him the King. 

“That’s it…” Steve praises you as you fall apart in front of him. He smacks you firmly across the ass. You whimper at the sensation, chasing your third orgasm of the hour by fucking him back, tossing your hips back onto him, not caring the slightest if it made you look desperate. You need his cock so bad. “That’s a good girl.”

CRASH!

Something falls from the bathroom at the end of the hall. A shampoo bottle maybe? It stuns you for a second, causing you to immediately reach for the top sheet to cover up your body. You listen for traces of his roommate’s presence.

“Uh…”

“Earthquake?” Steve jokes.

“Nope,” you smugly shake your head. “It’s just you.”

You rise from all fours to turn around and give Steve a quick kiss. Steve chuckles against your skin.

“Me? It’s a team effort, lady.”

“You’re right, it’s us.”

Steve wraps his arms around your waist and guides you back down onto the bed. Laying on your back now, you watch him as he spreads your legs apart. He smiles down at you as he lines himself up at your opening.

An impatient sigh escapes your mouth. He swoops down to silence you, planting a soft kiss onto your neck.

“Steve…” you whimper.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. “You’ll get it, just you wait.”

He continues to tease you, gliding his cock along the lining of your entrance. You bite your lip and shake your head, watching him as he glides, thrusting his tip in slowly before taking it back out once more. Then he slaps his cock against your puffy, glistening folds. Your whimpers grow louder.

“Are—” you lower your voice. “Are you sure we’re the only ones here?”

“Yeah,” Steve insists, mumbling against your ear. “The roomie’s with his sneaky link. We’re fine.”

“Birds of a feather,” you retort.

Steve flashes you a flirtatious glare. “I’d never keep you a secret.”

“Lies.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenges you.

What did he mean by that?

A gasp escapes your mouth before it’s even registered. Steve is inside once again, pounding into you with a pace so exhilarating, the room around you starts to blur. The little time you had to prepare leaves you both with a healthy amount of friction and resistance. You’re nearly screaming now as pressure builds between your hips and in your stomach, your pleas for more growing louder and louder with every pummeling thrust.

“If you call that keeping a secret, you’re pretty bad at it,” Steve kindly retorts, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, beads of sweat dripping down his pomade-sculpted hair onto your breasts.

“Oh m-my fucking god,” you squeal breathlessly. You’re silenced by Steve’s fingers as they assert themselves into your mouth.

“Oh my fucking god is right, babydoll.”

He issues a delicate slap across your face. You bite your lip, gazing up at him with lust-filled eyes. Snarky King Steve is your favorite Steve.

“Keep going, Steve. Don’t fucking stop.”

Before you know it, he’s bending you like a pretzel, your legs at his shoulders, knees to the tip of your earlobes. Steve slams himself into you, excruciatingly fast and balls deep, all while his hand explores your mouth, then jaw, then find a home around your throat. Another delicate slap brushes across your face with his other hand, followed by a “Yeah, baby take it”, causing you to mewl even louder.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other begin to sound more wet with every thrust, the moans you two exude bounce off the walls as you fuck into each other. You feel your walls tighten at the same time his head starts to twitch.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet,” Steve huffs. “Do I feel that fucking good? Are you about to make a mess on me?”

“Yes,” you attempt to say. “I’m such a messy girl, Steve.”

“That you are,” he swoons, swooping down to plant kisses all over your face. “Messy. Dirty. Naughty. And all mine.”

Four more aggressive pumps into you and you’re both done for.

“Oh my god…”

“Fuck.”

“Holy shit.”

“Ohhh fuck.”

Giggles take the place of moans as you and Steve collapse onto one another. You two lay there in disbelief, then share another laugh followed by a high five.

“Good game,” Steve jests.

“Rematch later?” you wink.

Although Steve doesn’t answer, you know it’s a yes. As you roll over to drift off into a small recovery nap you feel another slap land on your ass, followed by the sound of the trusty rubber rolling off your partner’s cock.

“So fucking beautiful.”

——

9 AM

After care is essential for Steve. Lover boy loves to cuddle. He’s there when you wake up, arms snaked around you, with gleaming eyes and a rather itchy peach fuzz that you didn’t stumble upon until he was giving raspberries to your neck.

“You lasted longer this time,” you comment teasingly. You issue him a delicate boop on the nose.

“Yeah, cuz we’ve been doing it all night,” Steve tsks. “You caught me off guard the first time around, Hargrove.”

You pout. “Aww. Was I kicking you when you were already down?”

Steve pulls you to his chest, giving you a squeeze the further you lean into him. “You absolutely were, you devil woman.” He kisses your forehead and beams down at you with a smile.

“Good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

So you two rinse up together, and Steve lets you borrow one of his t-shirts to parade around his luxury townhouse in. He did offer you some basketball shorts he had lying around on his couch, but you decide that hopefully, in just his shirt and your new lace black panties, it would entice him for round five.

Suddenly your phone buzzes. It’s Max.

Hey where r u?

You bite your fingernails as you contemplate a believable answer. Where could you possibly be if your supposed shift ended two hours ago?

Post shift mimosas with coworkers. Be back around noon.

You wait. Buzz.

As you should 🤪

You smile before exiting out of your conversation with Max. It vanishes quickly when you remember there’s still a text you haven’t responded to.

What the actual fuck.

It’s been a week now since Billy sent that text. And with him being the type to spam, it’s strange that he hasn’t called or texted again. Especially since it had been Max’s birthday.

You shudder, overwhelmed with a sense of panic yet again. In hopes of postponing reality to the next day, you plant your phone face down onto Steve’s bedside table. It all made you feel stupid. Like an infant who believed they were hiding just by closing their eyes.

You walk out into the hallway and find Steve in the kitchen, frantically trying to find you something to eat.

“We need to go shopping again,” Steve announces. “So the only choices right now are eggs, sausage, toast, cereal..and the Cuties over there.”

You make your way over to grab a tangerine while you browse the cereal section. 

“Well, I had sausage this morning,” you joke. “And a cutie. So I’ll go with eggs and toast please.”

“Coming right up. Sunny side?”

“Scrambled.”

“Anything for you.”

You claim a seat at the messy kitchen island, decorated by mountains of bills and guy stuff galore. As Steve is cooking, you sit and admire the man who Hawkins calls the King.

Steve tries. It shows in everything he does. Behind every positive attribute about the man, looms a cautionary energy accompanied by a sense of guilt. It’s almost if “King Steve” refuses to take up space. Something, or someone, made him this way. Made him so guarded and delicate, yet so willing to give and help.

Before you know it, Steve hands you your Shy Girl-tailored breakfast, fluffy golden eggs with golden buttered toast to match, served with a glass of orange juice on the side. You thank him and he nods, tossing a dish rag over his shoulder and walking to the sink to clean up. With how sweet Steve is with you in bed and on a friendship level, the sole idea of him makes you wonder what he’d be like — years from now — as his one real dream: a husband, a dad…

The sound of a toilet flushing jolts you back into focus. Both you and Steve freeze in place.

“Shit,” Steve sighs.

Roomie is home.

Steve quickly wipes his hands and darts to his room, scurrying to find a shirt to mask the hickeys you left on his chest. Meanwhile you scramble to the couch to find the basketball shorts you passed him up on earlier. You didn’t want to give his roommate the wrong impression, though you kind of feel like you did, screaming like a banshee because you thought no one was home.

You’re tunnel-visioned as you scan the couch for shorts. Let’s see… TV remote, no — football, no — random backpack and baseball cap —

Wait. Is that a Hellfire shirt?

Your eyes widen. It can’t be. Steve wouldn’t withhold such vital information from you, would he? Maybe Steve really likes supporting Eddie’s business.

But then you think about it. You really think about it.

You think about Steve’s comment he made as he was leaving Hellfire. "Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home."

At home.

“The roomie won't be home…”

The use of “the roomie” instead of “my roomie”. Typically “the” is only used if someone knows of the person being mentioned. At least that’s how you yourself word things anyway.

“The roomie’s with his sneaky link.”

Eddie’s lady friend. Eddie only goes to see her during the most ungodly hours because she’s a bartender.

You feel so stupid. For more reasons than one.

Eventually you find Steve’s basketball shorts and throw them on, running back to the kitchen island where you then try to play cool. You turn back to the scattered envelopes laying around the island — all addressed to an Edward Munson.

In the words of your twin brother, what the actual fuck.

“WOOO — Harrington!” a familiar sing-song voice echoes from down the hall. “You definitely don’t wanna go in there!”

You recognize that voice from anywhere.

Whistling sounds from the end of the narrow hall. Coming out of the bathroom was none other than your boss, dressed down in a black muscle tank that revealed his avant-garde black and white tattoos, and royal blue gym shorts. His hair was up in a messy half-bun, the loose curls that were too short tie up are a cluster of anarchy around his face.

You make it into Eddie’s periphery, but he doesn’t do a double take until he realizes it’s you.

“Oh hey!” he greets you, somewhat expressionless. “You on tonight?”

As if seeing you in his apartment is the most casual thing ever. 

You’re completely swamped with humiliation. It’s bad enough that Eddie practically heard you scream bloody murder, but now he knows exactly what you’re like in bed. He knows how you like to be handled. How embarrassingly cock-drunk you get when your partner hits the right spot. How pornographic and raunchy you act when you’re with the right person.

You’re also dressed like Adam Sandler. So there’s that.

It takes everything in you not to grab your stuff and leave. But it is that same ick in your body that keeps you glued onto the bar stool of the island.

“Y-yeah,” you huff. “Sure, I’ll work.”

“Totally should…” Eddie sings again. “Midweek is always popping. Everyone always wants a lil sumn sumn on Friday Junior-Junior.”

You study Eddie as he strides over to the fridge, insipid and unbothered. Tired, if anything. 

Steve comes out of his room with his own Hellfire shirt on, trying his best to keep his cool as he clears his throat. “I, uh… I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

“That makes the three of us,” Eddie laughs dryly as he rummages through the fridge. “But here I am…”

You observe him as he hums along to a random tune, scanning the fridge for something quick and easy. He settles for what looks like coffee creamer, which brings you back to the time that Dustin said Eddie operates on coffee and an empty stomach. 

You try to focus on something else. Anything. Eyes-a-wandering, you catch sight of Steve’s old championship trophies from his high school swim meets, pictures of him and his boujee ass family at TopGolf, pictures of him with old friends at an actual golf course, glass cups from breweries all around Indiana and The States, and the expensive smart electronics that ornamented the place.

But not a single trace of Eddie and his life or family. The mystery of him sucks you in a little more.

Eddie stalks towards you, extending an arm across to pick up the bills waiting for him on the table. The world stops for a moment.

“Sorry for the mess,” Eddie apologizes. “The maid took the night off.”

An inferno pools at your cheeks. Was the ‘mess’ remark a jab towards you? Your thighs clench when the flashbacks of morning sex with Steve replay in your head. “Are you about to make a mess on me?”

“You’re fine,” you manage to say.

Eddie proceeds to pour himself a drip coffee then douses it in an unreasonable amount of hazelnut creamer.

You cringe at the sight. Sometimes a crush is just a lack of information.

Steve attempts to speak to serve as a filler for awkward tension, but you beat him to it.

“S-”

"So," you press. "How are things with the lady friend?"

Eddie makes a sour face. "Called it off," he shrugs. "Well, she did."

Your ears slightly perk up.

You feign a tone of dismay. "Oh no! What happened?”

"Guess our lifestyles don't mesh well with one another,” Eddie rolls his eyes, as if he knew it was some sort of excuse. He draws on about the ordeal. “She doesn't like that I'm always at work. I can only see her in the early hours of the morning, and with the amount of paperwork I have to do, I’d honestly rather be spending my free time sleeping or playing video games."

"Well, you should stop working so much,” Steve suggests. “It could help balance shit out more.”

Eddie snaps his neck at Steve.

"You think I didn't think about that already?" he scowls through gritted teeth. "It’s like the moment Eddie's gone, everyone forgets how to do their jobs. I always gotta come in to make sure they’re all staying on task.”

He turns to you.

“Take Mike for instance,” he explains. “Fucking chickenwithhisheadcutoff. Lights are on, but nobody’s home.”

You laugh.

“He was the one who forgot to take inventory on the 10th and 11th,” Eddie pops a scoop full of Honey Combs into his mouth. “Yet he was asking me if he could bring his girlfriend to the club.”

“Ohh,” is all you can say.

“I don’t mind all that lovey dovey shit,” Eddie mutters between bites. “But if it’s gonna distract him from working, that’s where there’s a problem.”

“Totally reasonable dude,” you agree.

“Yeah, Mike gets really distracted when El’s around,” Steve pitches in.

Eddie nods. “Ed’s got his own set of rules for a reason. The Munson Doctrine is a byproduct of when all the things that can possibly go wrong, have gone wrong.”

You watch Eddie stroll towards the windows by the balcony and prop them open, an indicator that he’s about to smoke. He grabs a tiny bowl that he seemed to know was laying around and loads it up with bud. He lights up and takes several large hits.

“So what’s everyone’s plans for tonight?” Eddie questions eyes darting between you both.

You and Steve didn’t think that far.

“Not too sure yet,” Steve answers for you two. “I do know we gotta go shopping again.”

“Tell me about it,” Eddie nods towards the cereal. “Tired of eating hamster food every morning.”

Eddie takes another hit, coughing away the excess like a madman.

“I’m hosting another BYOB night at Hellfire with the frens again,” Eddie continues once he calms down. “Been a minute. You should swing by.”

“Bring your own booze?” you ask.

“Getting warmer.” Eddie replies.

“Beer?”

“Cooler now.”

“Then what?”

“Bud,” Eddie replies raspily, nodding at his own amusement. “We’re still a red state, so we get our shit from Illinois. BYOB is specifically for the party. Edibles only, for obvious reasons. Still a fun time though.”

“Cross-faded on a random Tuesday, what’s more enticing than that?” Steve says. You’re not sure if he’s sarcastic or not.

“Exactly, Harrington!” Eddie hollers. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Is Nance gonna be there?”

Record scratch. Eddie looks at Steve like he asked a dumb question.

“She works there.”

“You know what I mean,” Steve glares at Ed.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Is Nancy gonna be at the table? No, probably not. You know her. Total opposite of Mike. When she’s at work, she’s at work.”

“Yeah...” Steve mutters with a sigh. “Alright, fine. I’ll think about it. What else ya doing today before this?”

Eddie explains that after paperwork and grocery shopping, he plans to go over to Chrissy’s place to look at her car. It causes your heart to flutter. Business owner, manager, cook, music fanatic, and mechanic? Mr. Jack-of-All-Trades after your heart again.

Eddie shakes his head, evidently overwhelmed with all the responsibilities on his lap. “Hellfire would crash and burn without Cherry.”

“Wow, you do so much,” you comment, attempting to uplift him. He grins at your remark. You decide keep going. “Anything you can’t do?”

You feel Steve stare between you both, then clear his throat as he paces around the kitchen.

“Stop it,” Eddie chuckles, growing slightly flustered with his pink-tainted cheeks. “Kinda true though. I do everything and anything.”

“Yeah, especially for Chrissy Cunningham,” Steve jeers.

“That’s also true,” Eddie shrugs, attempting to conceal his now fully flustered face. “We done now?”

“We are actually,” Steve says. “Lucky for you, I gotta go get ready.”

Steve shoots you a wink and then excuses himself back to his room. Meanwhile, it’s just you and the other man you have a burning crush on.

Something shifts when Steve disappears. To shake off the unknown feeling that’s mingling in the air, you make your way over to the fridge. You hope that pretending to be busy excuses you from another conversation.

But before you know it, you feel Eddie’s stern — and marijuana-laced — breath on you just moments later. The torment is never ending.

The moment you turn, you’re met with Eddie’s big brown eyes. He speaks first.

“I was joking, you know.”

Whatever banter that was being exchanged earlier has now switched off. The pitch of Eddie’s voice has dropped a few frequencies, and that act alone captures your attention. Shooting your gaze towards him, your brow lifts.

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to work tonight,” he elaborates shoving his hands into his pockets. “We’re well staffed. There’s a seat for you at the table… if you’d like to come with.”

“I’m your friend?”

“I thought it was clear.”

“You haven’t even taken me to lunch yet.”

“You haven’t given me the chance.”

Fair play, Munson. Eddie waits for you to talk. You study your superior as he studies you, his chocolate eyes slowly becoming eclipsed by the widening of his jet black pupils. Hunger was unknown feeling that was mingling. It’s burning in your stomach now. Its essence that lingered between you both is the only thing keeping you two from standing any closer.

“Cross faded on a Tuesday,” you repeat Steve’s sentiment. “Sounds like a Friday ordeal.”

“Well when you work as much as I do, you try to make every day feel like Friday.”

Oh this man is stressed stressed. Something in Eddie’s hopeful stare convinces you that a simple “yes” would make him a little happier about tonight. But you don’t want to seem too into it.

“I’ll think about it,” you tease.

“Ah, come on…” Eddie tuts. “Steve will be there.”

You blush.

“And your ol’ boss,” Eddie ominously adds, propping his shoulder against the fridge as he leans. “If that counts for anything.”

Another loose strand of hair from his bun falls across his face. He shakes it away with a cinematic nod. You feel stupid for falling for your Eddie’s natural charisma. He does it with everybody, you remind yourself. It’s what makes him a good business man. You aren’t anything special.

“Will there be wings?” you decide to deal the inside joke you share.

“Flats only,” Eddie insists, feeding into it.

“Now that sounds like a good time.”

“Always is, sweetheart,” Eddie grins. “Can’t wait for you to experience it.”

Before he too excuses himself, Eddie hugs you, doing the verbal kiss on the side of your cheek once more before letting go. It never fails to leave you in a puddle.

No rizz, my ass Dustin, you think to yourself.

“See you there then, gorgeous?”

“You sure will.”

And just as quickly as Eddie disappears, Steve returns, sporting a basic grey Patagonia tee and khaki colored Dickies. His sunglasses dangle from the center collar of his shirt, his green and yellow “Camp Know Where” dad hat clipped onto the same belt loop that housed the keys to his BMW.

He meets you halfway by the island, giving you a soft kiss once more.

“I’ll let you hold onto that shirt,” he says. “It looks good on you.”

“Why thank you,” you reply. “Smells just like you too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck just as he does your waist before they explore the birthmark region of your lower back. Your breath hitches.

“I should probably stop,” Steve bites his lip. “I gotta walk you to your car.”

“I know, maybe next time,” you frown. “Also, you didn’t tell me Eddie’s your roommate.”

Steve’s face falters slightly. “I… didn’t think it’d matter.”

He’s right. Ultimately it didn’t matter. If you didn’t shut up, you’d tell right on yourself.

“I know!” you end up saying way too enthusiastically. “It’s just that he, uh, heard everything.”

Steve dismisses it. “Let him,” he says. “I’m sure he hears and sees it all at the club anyways.”

Steve bites the bullet and gives your ass cheeks a tight squeeze. “Besides, he can watch if he’d like. We’ll give him a little show…”

Your breathing scatters again, to which you give Steve a playful nudge.

“You’re unbelievable.That’s where your dirty little mind goes?”

“What can I say?” King Steve smirks, forehead pressed against yours now. “I’m a voyeur.”

“Clearly,” you wink.

Birds of a feather. As much as you didn’t want it to, your mind wanders back to Eddie and how he is most likely a voyeur too. Why else would Hellfire be an asset of his?

The entire commute home is spent fantasizing about both Steve and Eddie. You have absolutely no idea what you're doing and what to do in this situation. Would this even be considered a triangle considering how casual everything appears to be?

With everything unknown there is one thing is for sure: tonight, both of them are getting some kind of show from you.

—————————————————

‘Friday Junior Junior’ is relatively staffed.

Mike and Dustin flicker across the room, darting back and forth to bus tables as soon as customers leave. Skating on the thin ice he’s on, Mike works quickly and efficiently, while Dustin takes his sweet time, attempting to multitask while talking to Suzie, one AirPod in at all times.

“Yeah, babe, I’m in Kas’ Korner,” Dustin lies. “Doing some food packing.”

You watch him as he wipes the table quickly after spraying some cleaning solution onto it, eyes glued to the job in front of him instead of center stage. He does sneak a quick glance at Chrissy, though. Then looks around to see if anyone noticed. You do, but you pretend not to. It’s funny. 

“I’ve seen her get richer in the pole, I’ve seen her. I knew she had to know.”

You're sat between Steve and Eddie at the VIP table, watching Chrissy alongside everyone else. Joining you three are Argyle and Henry, who both were miraculously able to find themselves coverage. Jim is bouncer for tonight, while Lucas has the kitchen covered after months of begging Eddie and Argyle to let him cook.

Looking over at Steve, you see him beaming up at Chrissy and decide to join him in showering her with his — many — dollar bills. Argyle joins in too, to your concern since he promised the group he'd buy everyone drinks when you guys all go bar-hopping later.

"Chrissy is amazing," you sigh, shaking your head in pure admiration for the starlet dancing in front of you.

"Isn't she?" Eddie responds. He delves into his pocket to pull out his phone. "All the ladies here are pure and absolute fuego."

Drawing your attention to his device, Eddie opens an album in his camera roll titled, "Hellfire Girls". He starts showing you short clips of the dancers, one by one, explaining what they're doing and how in awe he is of them.

“I notice that the girls like wearing pasties for tops that tend to have spaghetti straps or very little fabric coverage,” he says. “Or for when they don't feel like showing their tits. Saves you too when The Girls decide to pop out when you’re upside down. Always the fucking left one too."

You giggle at his remark.

The eloquence and respect Eddie has about the female body and wardrobe mechanics has you enticed. It's evident how much Eddie respects women and values their comfort. But he is also a man, and it's no secret that someone like him enjoys watching. And Eddie is never shy to admit when he likes what he sees.

He shows you another video of another dancer, Emmy.

“Emmy’s a fucking beast,” Eddie gushes. “She can do a split right from her side straddle. Kassidy’s the same, but the Pegasus is more of her strength. Lady’s got arms and core for days. It’s fucking hot."

He swipes again.

"And Justice knows how to do a Dragon's Tail, it’s a crowd favorite.”

Eddie's already had a few drinks tonight, so the filter he already seemed to lack is practically non-existent now. Steve is on the same boat, downing his third cocktail and not giving a damn how much he blows tonight on the dancers. You all the while, are one dangerous cocktail in and are already horny out of your mind. It doesn't help that Jonathan has a heavy pour, and that every drink he makes tastes like juice.

"Cheers to that," you smirk, raising your glass to clink with Eddie's.

“I’ve seen her take down that tequila. Down by the liter. I knew I had to meet her.”

"Maketh way everyone," Henry announces, asserting himself back into the VIP section after leaving not too long ago. “Bottle service a-la-Henry."

You turn to Hellfire’s bouncer, who ditched the casual attire tonight for a more classy black formal suit and a matching Rolex watch. His sandy blonde hair is extra sleeked up and away from his face. According to Henry, he never usually dresses up unless there's a special occasion. You suppose BYOB night is one of those events.

Henry acknowledges the cocktail in your hand before nodding towards the bottle of Don Julio that he’s holding.

"Tell me, Shy Girl," Henry starts. "You up to ditch that for something a bit more challenging?"

Eddie fires a curious look towards the interaction.

You eye the Don Julio that was luring you in, and ultimately decide to take Henry up on it. Flashing him a sinister smile, you instruct him, “Hit me.”

Henry slowly starts towards you, tilting your chin upwards once he pops the cap open. With your consent he starts to pour the tequila down into your mouth.

Fuck being responsible tonight.

An array of "WOOO"s and "OHHH"s fill the air around the VIP section as everyone cheers, shocked that you’re able to chug all of that without it burning. Little did they know, Don Julio tastes just like home. Well, south of the border from home.

After holding down your own fort for way too long, you've decided that someone else needs to be handed that baton for tonight. Since you didn't tell Henry to stop, you're still chugging what he was pouring into your mouth. You know it’s risky, especially since you had two edible gummies several minutes ago as well.

“Oh my god,” Eddie gawks as you settle for a final gulp.

“Shy Girl’s not so shy,” Steve comments, absent-mindedly, arms wrapped around your waist as he keeps you propped upwards. "Good job, baby. That's how you do it."

“That’s it, Hargrove," Henry smirks. "Swallow all that for me?”

You peer up at him and hold your eye contact as you swallow, making sure Henry knows that there's no more alcohol left in your mouth. Everyone knows you championed that shit. When you’re done, he wipes the remnants of tequila off your bottom lip.

"This one's dangerous, Eds," he comments, completely shocked by what he just witnessed.

"Don't I know it," Eddie breathes. "Not really living up to the Shy Girl name, are we Hargrove?"

You feel Steve's grip around your waist tighten. Assuming he was being possessive over you, you turn to offer him your undivided attention. Instead, you end up looking over at a clearly intoxicated Steve, leaning onto you for gait support as he smothers you with affectionate kisses all over your shoulders, ear, and neck.

"Shy Girl," Steve mumbles. "Shy Girl Hargove... Not-So-Shy-Shy-Girl."

You turn back to Eddie, meeting those carnivorous eyes once again. He's breathing heavily against you now, that this time he's not even hiding it.

"Yeah well the Shy Girl thing is all an act," you quip at Eddie flirtaciously. "Looks like there's still a lot for you to learn about me."

Eddie rolls his tongue around in his cheek as he eyes you up and down. He presses his palm gently onto your knee that rested closer to him and rubs it. "Can I crash your class then? Professor?"

Before you can respond, Chrissy bounces her way on over, ecstatic over the amount of tips she made.

"Wh- are you guys all drinking without me?" she exclaims when she approaches the table.

You turn to see her pouting ever so playfully, but then smiling when Argyle hands her a shot of the Don Julio. She too downs it like it's water.

"WOOO!" Chrissy cheers, raising the empty shot glass into the air. "To Hellfire Club!"

"To Hellfire Club!" everyone follows.

Everyone resumes taking shots and celebrating once again, this time with Chrissy joining the party. You watch Eddie as he feeds her an edible, another one allegedly, upon her request. He rests a delicate hand on her cheek, watching her chew, then grazes her cheek when she swallows the gummy, eyes glued on him the entire time.

“Good girl,” he mouths.

Chrissy flashes a playful, flirty grin before excusing herself from the table to go and give patrons a dance. She is stopped midway by a familiar, friendly face.

"Aht, aht," the friendly face stops her. "Not so fast, missy. I have some stuff for you."

"Oh, that's right!" Chrissy giggles. "Thanks, Nance."

To Steve's utter shock, House Mom Nancy makes her way to the VIP table. You feel him tense beside you, attempting to sit up straight and pretend that he's sober. You and Steve take in Nancy's effortless beauty, the way her straight brown hair was neatly kept in a bun, black square neck cocktail dress with transparent black tights underneath fitting her body like a glove, with nails that were always cleaned, polished, and painted a neutral color. Nancy is always so effortlessly pretty, but tonight she looked extra good.

“Here are your extra pasties, love,” Nancy reports while handing Chrissy her boob tape. “And also some spare bobby pins.”

“Thank you!” Chrissy chimes.

Nancy proceeds to take Chrissy's tips, tucking them neatly into a pouch that has a cherry design on it. As she finishes up with Chrissy, Nancy's eyes travel over to meet Steve’s. 

“Hello, Steve,” she attempts.

“Hey, Nance,” Steve says, eyes filled with sorrow.

Nancy’s eyes fall onto you. The air seems awkward now, most likely because Nancy read the room and figured out that you and Steve are probably sleeping together. You can’t hide your thoughts. Your face speaks for you, and judging by the way you struggle to make eye contact with your house mom, she knows now that you know of her and Steve's history.

“Hey you!” Nancy cheers, trying to mask the tension.

“Hey Nance!” you join in. “How are you tonight?”

“Good,” she smiles. “Not working tonight?”

“No, just here to support Chrissy,” you smile back.

“Awesome!”

If Argyle and Henry didn't know you two are hooking up, they sure as hell knew now. They exchange a lightning quick glance at once another and do their best not to do anything that could potentially worsen the situation. Not that it was bad. It was just painfully awkward.

It’s silent for a bit before Nancy clears her throat. “Okay then, I’ll see you guys later.”

All of you bid goodbye to Nancy and try to carry on with the rest of the night. The boys have no issue going back to what they were doing. Meanwhile, you look over at Steve who has gone pale and looks like he is about to throw up.

You rest a hand on top of his. Steve flinches before turning to look at you.

“Are you okay?” you question him.

He sighs and nods. “I will be.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” you remind him. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

"You're right," Steve frowns. He grabs your hand to kiss it. "Thanks for being so patient with me."

"Of course," you insist.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom to freshen up," he says before ruffling your hair. "I'll be right back."

Your eyes trail after Steve to ensure his safety as he saunters over to the bathroom. When he makes it safe, you turn your attention back to the boys who are, of course, talking about sex.

"Alright you guys," Argyle speaks up. "Let's talk about it. Do you guys have a daddy kink?"

You're intrigued. You gaze travels over to Henry and Eddie who are trying to contain their excitement on the topic. They're trying to act like this is not something they wanted to talk about, but judging by how tightly they're holding onto their drinks and fixing the way they were sitting a little bit too often, they are more than giddy about this topic. Or anything sex-related.

"No not really," Henry shrugs. "But master kink, yeah. I like to be called master and all that stuff."

"Ooh, you're one of those freaky ass fools," Argyle says. "I see, I see. Eddie what about you?"

"Do we really have to talk about this?" Eddie chuckles.

"We sure do, you little freak," Argyle nudges him.

Eddie laughs to himself, staring down at the bottle of beer he's currently drinking. Slowly, he starts to nod, causing your heart to do sommersaults. This night keeps on getting better.

"Yeah..." Eddie answers. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"What's the reason behind your daddy kink?"

"Just think it's hot," Eddie shrugs. "I like taking care of the girl while she unravels right under me. Think it's also a power thing. I like taking over."

"You a choker?"

"Dude, am I?" Eddie exclaims. "Fuuuck yeah! I'm like the fucking waiter at Olive Garden with the grated cheese. Tell me when to stop."

The boys burst out in laughter. Eddie continues with an explanation.

"Cuz I'll keep going."

You are too cross-faded for this right now. Your environment starts to get hot, and you can't tell if it's because of the alcohol or the information Eddie was dumping on everyone causing your cheeks to flush.

"And you know what they say," Henry adds. "Everything is about sex, but sex is about power."

"Power, women, same thing," Eddie says. "Fucking love it."

His eyes fixate on you.

"What about you Shy Girl?" Eddie questions you, his voice deepening. "What are you into?"

Chrissy's screams could not have come at a better time. The whole club nearly pans their attention to her when as shrieks.

“You fucking dickhead!”

Startled, Eddie shoots up. “What? What the fuck happened?”

“I turn around to straddle him and his dick was out.”

You look over to where Chrissy is.

Absolutely fuming, Eddie turns to Henry.

“Creel..."

"Oh I am so glad I am not on the clock," Henry fumes. "I'm gonna fuck him up so bad."

You watch as Henry removes the black blazer he has on along with his watch and shoes before darting towards Chrissy and her perverted patron. You are about to witness what you have been warned about.

"Put that back in your fucking pants dude, what the hell are you doing?" you hear him demand.

"I was just-"

"Quiet. I don't wanna hear it."

"She was talking me up all nice. Not my fault this bitch can't put out."

You turn to Eddie and swear that his eyes have gone black. Yet he refrains from going there himself. He knows well enough that he can't get involved as a manager. There would be a lot at stake if he did.

After arguing back and forth with the customer, Henry digresses when he realizes he's talking to an arrogant brick wall. That's when the unthinkable happens. You watch as the customer practically flies out of his seat, at his mercy now that he is in Henry's unbelievably tight grip. He tries to fight it, swatting at Henry's hand, attempting to kick him in the groin. Henry seems amused. As if that poor customer has a chance.

You almost hear a SNAP.

"Oooh," you hear the crowd hiss painfully.

The customer wails helplessly on the floor as Henry continues to have his way with him. Chrissy, extremely overwhelmed, dashes to the bathroom as she puts her cloak back on, trying to hide the fact that her face is now completely red and full of tears.

Your eyes pan back over to the customer who is now sprawled out onto the floor. Henry abandons him after hissing a cruel, "Get your shit together then get the fuck out" at him and spitting onto him.

He excuses himself to go get Jim to drag him out. You're way too stunned to say anything to him, eyes glued on the customer whose limbs are now bent to a perfect 90 degree angle, neck seemingly displaced, shoulders misaligned with every other part of his body. There's a pool of blood and sweat on the floor. Or maybe that's piss.

"These assholes need to be mindful of how they treat women," Henry snaps when he returns. "Cuz one of these days, they're gonna find the One."

It's difficult for chaos to phase you now, especially since physical confrontations like this used to occur every day at home. But nothing could have prepared you for the aftermath of getting fucked up by Henry.

“Jesus,” you heave. “I didn’t know the human body could bend like that.”

“Naturally it can’t,” Henry corrects you.

“Evident by the bones snapping all willy-nilly,” Argyle adds.

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that, thanks,” you reply.

Eddie sneaks up behind you.

“Told you it was grody,” he says.

Steve emerges from the bathroom, slightly less pale, but still heavily intoxicated. He looks over at the customer, eyes wide.

"Jesus." You can tell he already knows what happened. Steve also seems to know who took care of that person. "I always tell myself I'l get used to it, but damn."

You go over to embrace him. He embraces you back, kissing you across the forehead with his liquor heavy breath. Although you wanted to be with him for the rest of the night, you knew he had to go home. When Steve glances elsewhere, you confiscate his car keys. Eddie guides Steve back to his seat at the VIP table, giving him small words of encouragement as they go.

"That's it, easy there, Big Guy. Almost there. You good?"

You stride over to POTIONS where Dustin just so happens to be now. Judging by how close he and Steve are, you trust him to take him home.

"Dustin," you begin.

"Yes, m'lady," he answers.

"You mind staying with Steve for me?" you request. "I'm gonna be with Chrissy for a bit, but I think he might be ready to go home. I'm not sober so I can't take his car."

"Oh no," Dustin peers over at Steve. "Let me guess, he saw Nancy?"

"Yup," you confirm handing Steve’s keys to Dustin. “They said two whole words to each other."

"That's two more than they usually do," Dustin mutters, accepting the keys from you. “But yeah, I got you. I'll be right there."

You let the men be men, re-enacting Henry’s bone-snapping marathon with the customer. Ditching them, you make your way to the bathroom, where you saw Chrissy run to, to check on her. The sound of sniffling in the stall furthest at the back is the first thing you hear.

“Chrissy?” you call out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insists.

A gag followed by some a mass that sounds like vomit shooting into the toilet contradicts that statement completely. Chrissy continues to throw up profusely as you make your way over, crawling under the stall to get to your new friend.

Chrissy is hugging the toilet now, clinging onto it for dear life as if it were going to run away from her.

"Room's spinning," she justifies.

“Yeah, you are most definitely not fine," you sigh. You pat her back to console her. "Are you just overwhelmed by everything? How many milligrams did you take?”

“How many are in three?”

“Jesus Christ!" you shout. "Chrissy!"

“They weren’t doing shit,” Chrissy pouted. “I felt like I needed something strong…” she’s interrupted by her own gagging once more. “Stronger. The edibles just weren't kicking in…”

“So we wait, love!” you exclaim. “We wait for them to kick in. We don’t take it upon ourselves, especially if one gummy is 20 milligrams.”

“Waiting around is for chumps.”

The room falls silent as Chrissy proceeds to self soothe, spitting remnants of her emesis into the toilet and focusing on her breathing. You decide to speak up again.

“How do you feel after what just happened?”

“I don’t,” she answers. “Eventually, you just grow numb to it. It’s part of the profession.”

“Harassment shouldn't be part of the profession."

"But it is."

"It shouldn't! Surely we can get Henry and Jim to do more training so this doesn't happen. We can take self defense classes?"

Chrissy sits up. She turns to face you, running a hand through your hair.

“Oh my baby,” she pouts. “My dear Baby Stripper. You’ve got some shit to experience before you truly know that none of this shit is preventable." She looks off into the distance. "You’re very brave for wanting to do this. I always used to tell girls who want to get into the industry to run as fast as they can."

You're no stranger to harassment and abuse, but you couldn't imagine what strippers go through on a daily basis. Unwanted gestures, having genitals exposed to them that they did not intend on seeing, stalking, retaliation, violence, kidnapping attempts. And these poor men and women who are just trying to make a living have to just accept it.

"There's so much I don't know about the industry," you admit to her. "And to a certain degree I am still naive about it all."

"That's why I'm so protective of you."

"I'll be fine, Chrissy," you reassure her. "I'm more worried about you. You're such a cute little cinnamon roll, I'm the protective one."

"You're so sweet," she says. "You have to promise me that you're gonna say something if anyone tries shit with you."

"Of course," you nod. You start to get scared. Chrissy is saying all this as if it was bound to happen tomorrow.

"And that if anyone at all seems like a threat, you let Jim, Henry, or Eddie know right away," Chrissy continues. "And Jonathan is in on it too. Just ask him for an angel shot and he'll know exactly what to do."

"Mhm," you nod again. "Yeah, you got it."

The extents women have to go through to keep safe...You shudder in fear. It's only temporary, you remind yourself. It's only temporary.

It's not too long after the incident that everyone, the party included, decides to disperse. Argyle volunteers to take Chrissy home and they leave in his van. Henry stays behind and talks with Jim, explaining to him what exactly went down with that one customer. Meanwhile, Steve is sitting at the VIP table, nearly passed out, but Eddie and Dustin work together to get him to his feet.

“Alright,” Dustin announces. “I’m taking Steve home before he starts simping over Nancy again.”

"Shut up, dude," Steve mumble, using nearly all his body weight to lean on Dustin.

You walk over to give Steve one last embrace, leaving a delicate kiss on his cheek as he drunkenly sways back and forth in your grip.

“Goodnight Steve,” you smile.

“Goodnight beautiful,” Steve says. “I’ll text you when I’m home safe.”

“Please,” you encourage him. “And drink water.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles hazily. “You drink water.”

After they leave, you return to the VIP table to order yourself an Uber. You're still intoxicated, but it's simmered to a buzz now. Before you can even navigate to the app, some tight jeans and combat boots make their way towards you, keys to a certain van out back jingling around his fingers.

“Ready, Shy Girl?” Eddie asks you.

“Huh? For what?”

“I’m taking you home.”

_____________

author’s note: thank you so much for all your kind words regarding this fic thus far!! 🥹 and thank you for being so patient as i had a family emergency this week so posting was delayed! didn’t wanna rush posting either because i care about the quality of my work and you guys deserve the best!! i added a bunch of y’all to the tag list and am so excited to have you guys along for the ride. revising/editing ch 4 as we speak :)

———————————-

tag list: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe , @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23 , @sidthedollface2

#Spotify #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #hellfire club #steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #Steve and Eddie #steddie and reader #Eddie and reader #steve and reader #Chrissy Cunningham

[fandoms-writings]

Masterpiece

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: bartender!bucky x college!reader (age gap of 10-ish years)

Word count: a little over 8K (sorryyyyyyy)

Summary: you’ve been dating Bucky for a few months now, and it’s your final art show before you graduate, and he’s excited to see your final piece.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI Bucky (he needs his own warning in this one), pet names (sugar, baby, sir, daddy), alcohol and weed consumption, tiny bit of self doubt from Bucky but it doesn’t last long, he’s head over heels guys, smut at the end, like, detailed smut. If you don’t wish to read it, I’ve put a divider where it starts 😌 fingering, oral (f receiving), Bucky talks a lot in bed, unprotected sex (protect yourself irl please)

A/N: this is my first time like really writing smut so please bare with me but i hope you love it 🫶🏼

If you enjoy the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi <3

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Main Masterpost

Bucky adjusted the cuff of his sleeve around his wrist, fidgeting with the fabric as he glanced at the clock for the thousandth time in the past hour. 

He was meeting you at the final art show of your school before summer -it was your final show. You were graduating in just a couple weeks and he wanted to be by your side for all of it if you'd let him.

Though he didn't know anything about art - other than the fact that he loved watching you paint. You got this look on your face when you were focused and it was as if you were oblivious to anything else going on around you. The way your brows would just slightly crease in the middle as your eyes locked on to the colors you were working with or the canvas set on the easel. Sometimes the tip of your tongue would prod at your bottom lip or at the inside of your cheek while you decided what little details needed more of your attention. 

There had been countless nights of you working on your final pieces for this exhibit being put together by your professor where Bucky got the opportunity to keep you company. You liked to paint in the bar while he worked, using the paints he'd gotten for you for Christmas. He'd come around to the corner that everyone knew was now yours where he'd make you take a much needed break, usually getting you to listen if he had a small plate of food from Sam. You'd usually take that time to ask him what he thought of what you had so far, even though he wasn't sure how much of a help he actually was. 

Most of your paintings were of his regulars and every single one blew him away. But you never let him see the final piece, so he was excited to see tonight what you'd made. 

After clasping his watch around his wrist, Bucky took one last glance at himself in the mirror to make sure he looked alright. 

He hoped he wasn't over dressed in his suit, you hadn't told him exactly what kind of attire he should show up in, other than he needed to dress nice and that he should wear maroon. He'd had Natalia go with him to pick it out - he hadn't needed a suit in years so he didn't exactly have one ready. She'd helped him pick it out but now that he was looking at himself, it felt like too much. 

He wasn't really sure what you saw in him if he was being honest with himself. He was a little over a decade older than you and it showed. He'd started sporting more gray in his beard than he liked to admit and there were permanent wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The smile lines and the frown lines both sunk a little deeper into his cheeks. He preferred a night in, reading a new book, over a night out. 

Maybe I should lose the tie? He thought as studied his appearance. 

He reached up to pull the fabric around his neck loose when there was a knock at the door. 

"Bucky!" Ana's voice filtered through the door, "Are you ready? We've gotta go if we're gonna catch the subway in time!" 

Pulling open his front door, he realized maybe he wasn't too overdressed. Ana was in a baby blue floor length, thin strapped dress with a slit up her thigh, though it didn't look too uncomfortable - in fact, it looked incredibly soft - and a pair of strappy heels. Her girlfriend, Val, was in a pair of pin striped pants, a black turtleneck, and a pair of nice white shoes to finish the look. 

"Oh don't you look nice!" Ana claimed after taking in his suit. 

"Really?" He asked, "I feel like it's too much." He looked again in the mirror by the door, tugging at the tie. "Should I forget the tie?" 

She pondered for a moment, looking him up and down, taking in the charcoal black slacks and matching coat, the maroon button up shirt and the black tie around his neck. 

"It depends," She started, "Do you want to look like a businessman? Or do you want to look like a sexy dilf?" 

"I, um, I don't know," He felt his face flush as he stuttered for an answer, "I just don't want to over do it." 

Ana smirked, "Loose the tie, bring the jacket, but don't wear it." 

He nodded before pulling the tie off and shucking the jacket, carrying it over his arm. He grabbed his keys and went to follow them out before Ana's hand popped up in front of his chest. 

"And undo the top button," She declared. "Actually, the top two." 

~

The outside of the building was rather plain in Bucky's opinion. The sunset was reflecting off of the large floor to ceiling windows that were framed in black, and he could see the exhibit all put together on the other side of the glass. 

There were already several people filling the space, but you'd told everyone you'd meet them outside. Bucky watched the crowd pass by on the sidewalk as Ana and Val discussed their plans for tomorrow night. 

He'd never been to something like this. Sure, he'd accompanied you to the art museum, but this was for you. He came to support you specifically and he felt like maybe something was missing now. 

Should I have brought flowers? A gift? He gnawed on the edge of his bottom lip as he looked around. Usually there were vendors out, selling little nick nacks or souvenirs. Really just anything to make a living. And among those was typically a flower cart. But as he looked around, the carts of random items were nowhere to be seen, packed and gone home for the night. 

He let out a disappointed sigh through his nose and turned his attention back to the door right as you walked out. 

His mind stopped working as he saw you, time freezing for him as he took you in. 

You were wearing a beautiful long sleeve dress with a shawl collar, its color split down the middle. The left side was a deep black, the right matching the same maroon as his dress shirt. The waist was cinched in just enough high on your waist to accentuate the curves you already had and the flared hem stopped just below your knees. There were black strappy heels on your feet and your hair was styled perfectly. And to top it off, you were wearing the simple rose gold necklace he'd seen you wear everywhere you went, the jewelry resting on its claimed spot of your collar. 

He didn't take another breath until your eyes landed on him and you gave him that amazing smile of yours, your lips lined in the same deep maroon. You weaved yourself around the people lingering at the front of the building until you stopped just short before him. The heels you were wearing gave you a little bit of height, but he was still taller than you by at least half a head. 

"Hi," You breathed it out as if the sight of him had stolen your breath too.

"Hi," He couldn't stop the corners of his lips from pulling up as he gazed down at you. "You look stunning." 

You didn't fight the grin that took over you as you muttered a 'thanks' and ducked your head. You reached for his arm, setting your hand against it as you looked back up at him, "You don't look too bad yourself." 

Ana clearing her throat had you two whipping your heads to her and Val, "While you do look amazing," She stated with a pointed finger at you, "It's getting chilly out so maybe we can take this love fest inside?" 

Bucky's cheeks flushed and he stifled his laugh as you tried to glare at your roommate while being obviously flustered that you'd walked right past her. You straightened your back and squared your shoulders. 

"Only because you asked so nicely," You bit back. The small venom in your words didn't hold any actual mal intent, and everyone in your group knew that as they laughed. Ana and Val lead the way, holding the door open for you and Bucky.

At the feeling of Bucky's hand resting on the small of your back, you glanced over your shoulder, giving him your small smile again before turning and leading him inside. 

The inside was dark, the walls a dark gray, almost black. Each art piece on display had a warm off-white spotlight shining on it. Bucky expected the space to be louder than it was, just by seeing how many people were here, but he was pleasantly surprised when everyone's conversations were mere murmurs and mumbles as you all passed by, most of them drowned out by the subtle music playing over the speakers.  

You took him on a tour around the gallery, arm in arm and pointing out pieces that were made by your friends. They were all wonderful and amazing pieces, but he really just wanted to see your stuff, but he remained patient while you were stopped by peers and professors from your college along the way, only speaking when you introduced him. This was your night, and he wasn't going to take that away from you by stealing conversations. He also didn't know much about art, only really about how much time and effort went into each piece - thanks to you and Steve - so he wasn't about to pretend he knew what he was talking about. 

Looking ahead to the direction you were leading him before you got stopped again, he could notice one of the paintings he'd watched you paint. You'd been sitting in your chair on the other side of your living room while he was watching a show - well, he was supposed to be watching a show, but he couldn't take his eyes off of you. 

"Bucky?" Your voice caught his attention again, along with a tug on his sleeve, and he looked over to you. You had a worried look on your face, but the girl who'd stopped you just a moment ago was still there. 

"What, sugar?" He asked. 

"If you're bored, you can go on ahead, it's okay," You were trying not to let too much of any emotion into your voice with how quiet you were being. Something about the way you said it made Bucky think he's not the first person you said that to. But who in their right mind would make you feel like you had to say that? Who would be so disinterested in you before him that now you had the instinct to tell him not to wait for you? It was unacceptable. 

"I'm perfectly fine where I am, don't worry about me," he grinned down at you, trying to ease the sudden anxiety coming off of you in waves. You smiled, letting your shoulder relax as you turned back to your friend Zoe, who could only help but smirk at the two of you. 

"Hey," she said, gaining both of your attention, "My roommates and I are having a small party to celebrate today, you should come. Both of you." 

"Oh, I'd love to, but," You turned to Bucky, "Don't you have to work?" 

"I do," He grinned, "But I can always take off early, meet you there. If you want?" 

"Who would close the bar?" 

"Hey, give Sam some credit, he knows how to close the bar on his own. He's a big boy." 

You laughed at that before turning to Zoe, "We'll be there." 

You went your separate ways, linking your arm with Bucky's and leading him down the hall where your artwork was on display. "You sure you want to party with a bunch of youngsters, old man?" You leaned in and asked, earning a laugh from him before he sighed. 

"Oh, I don't know. I may have doomed myself, huh?" 

"Mhm, probably." You hummed with a giggle before turning him to an open room with statues in the middle, your pieces lining the walls on the other side. 

You knew the second he saw it, almost as soon as you walked in, because he took in a sharp breath, eyes locked on the other side of the room. 

"Whoa," He breathed out, hesitating to take another step closer. Your nerves grew with his sudden change of movements and you couldn't help but squeeze his elbow. 

"You like it?" You asked, and he must've sensed your worries through your voice because he whipped his head to you. 

"This is incredible," He said while pointing at it. 

It was a combination of different sized canvases all painted in his bar, placed strategically across the whole wall. Each one contained a different scene, but they were manipulated just enough to where if you stood at the right angle, they created one large picture. All of his regulars, your friends, his friends who worked with him, all there. In the center was him, with a cocktail shaker in his hands and a smile on his face. 

"What was your theme for this?" He asked, finally walking closer to see all of his favorite faces on the wall. 

"I chose community, family, a support system," You explained, "And you have such a strong one, I couldn't help it." 

"You missed someone, though," He said, his voice dropping in disappointment and you couldn't help it when the smile on your lips fell. 

"What? What do you mean?" You looked from him to the wall, searching the faces for who was missing. You were there often enough that you knew everyone who was a regular. You knew. There was no way you missed anyone. 

"You," He looked at you with an exaggerated pout, "You're not in here." 

You couldn't help the coo that you let slip from your lips and you held in a laugh, "Aw, I'm sorry. I'll have to paint one and fit me in somewhere." 

He smiled at that, "I know where you can go." 

"Oh yeah? Where's that?" You asked as he pulled you close with one hand and looking at the painting, pointed to a spot with his other. 

"Right next to me." 

~

"Bucky!" You called out as you padded down the driveway straight for him. You'd exchanged the dress and heels from earlier for a more comfortable outfit, joggers covering your legs and a loose long sleeved shirt keeping you warm. 

He braced himself, steadying his feet and holding out his arms before you crashed into him. Your giggles flooded his ears as he stumbled backward but held on tight to you, keeping you both from toppling to the ground. 

"Hi, sugar," He chuckled into your hair. You smelled like weed and beer and he could only imagine what he'd been missing as you squoze him to death. You nuzzled your nose into his neck, inhaling and getting one more squeeze in before you pulled away. 

"You always smell so good," You had a half pout on your face as you pulled back, "It's not fair." 

He let out a hearty laugh at that, "How's it not fair?" 

"Because I know there are girls out there that see you at the bar and then get a whiff of your cologne and a look at your face and then they want you, but they can't have you, cause you're mine," You rambled and he laughed, doing his best to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at you calling him yours. 

"I still don't understand how it's not fair to you, but alright." 

"It's not fair because I wanna smell like you all the time," You mumbled before turning and tugging him toward the house. 

"You know all you have to do is ask and that can be arranged, right?" He asked, watching you walk in front of him.You peaked over your shoulder at him with an amused but curious look in your eyes and he smiled. "It's kind of a perk to, ya know, dating me. If you ask, I'll give you anything." 

"Anything, huh?" You cheekily asked as you opened the door to the house, the music spilling out into the garage as you led him inside. 

"Don't make me regret saying that," he chuckled. 

You led him to the kitchen, getting him a drink that you made incredibly strong. To get him caught up is what you claimed it was for. Though by the way your eyes were rimmed red, he'd be right to assume you were more stoned than you were drunk. 

He thought that he'd stand out too much at this party, being a decade older than pretty much everyone there, but all of your college friends were good about including him. Inviting him to play drinking games, roping him into conversations he actually enjoyed, and even offering him what you'd smoked. He'd taken a couple small hits, but he wanted to be able to drive you home later so he kept it light. He'd actually driven for you, and he never really pulled his car out of the garage - it was easier to walk the city. 

He liked being here with you, even if you were on the other side of the room, dancing your heart out with your friends. He got to sit back and watch, reveling in the warmth that spread through his chest - whether it be from the small amount of liquor or from seeing you so happy he wasn't sure - but he'd welcome it regardless. 

He loved seeing you so carefree. Usually, you constantly had your head in your paints and pencils, working on your next piece. And he was so proud of you, don't get him wrong, but he was glad you were letting yourself go, even if it was just for the night. He was sure you'd be right back to it tomorrow - well, maybe in a couple days, he was sure you'd probably have a killer hangover in the morning. 

The music changed and he watched as you stole the blunt from Zoe - though she was too preoccupied to really notice. You waltzed over to him, taking a long drag and then holding it out for him, but he declined and you passed it onto the next person before you placed yourself on his knee, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wrapped his free hand around you back, holding you steady as you nuzzled into his neck again. 

"You look good out there, sugar," He muttered so only you would hear, not that anyone here was in their right mind enough to pay attention to the two of you. 

"Mm, it was a good song," You mumbled, raking your fingers through his hair. He'd wanted to cut it a few weeks ago, but you gave him those puppy eyes of yours, claiming that you liked to play with it and tug on it. And who was he to take that from you? So he let it keep growing, and even though he didn't really enjoy having to actually try to get it to lay right, the feeling of your fingers running through it was more than worth it. 

"You ready to get going? Or did you wanna stay longer?" He asked, shifting so he could press his lips to the side of your face. 

You hummed in thought before you slightly pulled away, just enough to get a look at him. 

"What're we going to do when we get home?" You asked and his heart jumped at your words. He loved when you called it home. You still were across the hall, but you were over so often, your things littering his space, it was basically your home too. He loved it. 

"Whatever you want to do," He whispered against your lips before gently closing the distance for a quick kiss, tasting the weed and alcohol on your tongue. 

"Anything?" You asked, and if the way your fingers tightened on his hair didn't tell him what you wanted, the fiery look in your eyes sure did - the sparks there igniting the fire in his own body. 

"I said anything, didn't I?" He asked with a smirk and you smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

"We should get going then," You muttered before placing a heated kiss upon his lips. It only lasted a moment before you jumped up from his lap and he leaned to try to keep your lips on his. "Let me say bye first, kay?"

"Alright, sugar, I'll be here when you're ready." He watched you saunter off to your friends, getting lost in the crowd as he adjusted his suddenly too tight pants. 

"Isn't she a little young for you?" A voice asked to Bucky's left and he turned his head with a scowl on his face. 

"I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked. The man - boy, really - next to him smirked. 

"Name's Flash," He cockily said, his nose tipped up in the air. 

"What's it to you?" Bucky asked, taking the last swig of his beer, and setting down the bottle a little harder than he meant to. 

"Well, shouldn't she be with someone a little more her age?" Flash asked and Bucky huffed a laugh before standing to his full height, watching as Flash's eyes widened once he towered over the boy. 

"Maybe she would be if boys your age knew how to treat her." He turned at the sound of your voice getting close and found you trotting up to him. 

"Ready?" You asked, a large smile on your face. He smiled, leaning down, pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You let out the tiniest whine and he smiled against your lips before backing away. He peaked over his shoulder at Flash whose face was red as a cherry. 

"I'm ready, sugar. Let's go home," He turned back to you, offering his elbow for you to take, reveling in the feeling of your delicate grasp on his skin. 

Regardless of how he handled that situation, he couldn't help but think about his thoughts earlier that day. What did you see in him? 

He glanced at you, walking beside him to his car. You were rambling about something, but in your drug induced state, not much of it made sense to him. He helped you into the passenger seat before making his way around the front to climb in the driver's side. When he got the car started, he noticed you'd gone quiet and you were staring at him, your lids half closed in your relaxed demeanor. 

He chuckled and started the car, "What're you lookin at?" 

"You," You drawled out, reaching over to wrap your hand around his bicep and laying your head there, never looking away. 

"What're you doin that for, huh?" He looked to the road, pulling out of the parking spot and starting the way home. Your fingers trailed across his chest, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake that crawled throughout his entire body. 

"Cause I can, and I like lookin' at you," You lazily slurred, pressing your lips to the skin of his arm. "You're handsome," You muttered into his skin before tilting your head up again, "and sexy." 

"Mm, I'm not too old for you?" He asked, keeping his tone light. He knew you'd already talked about this exact thing, back during christmas, but Flash's comment was seared in his head. 

You sat up, your brows scrunched as your intense gaze burned a hole in the side of his face. 

"What did Flash say to you?" You demanded and he couldn't help the upward movement of his brows. 

"How did you know?" He asked, stopping at the red light and turning to you, the red glow against your skin making you look ethereal in your sudden frustration. 

"Because he's an asshole and can't keep his mouth shut or his opinions to himself." You stated, "What did he say?"

He sighed, looking to the road, watching the light. "He made a comment about how you're too young for me." 

The light turned green and he slowly went through the intersection as you sighed. 

"If you were too old for me, I wouldn't be with you," You stated. He glanced between you and the road, seeing nothing but sincerity in your face and he smiled. 

"Yeah?" He asked, "You aren't scared of being seen with an old man like me?" 

You laughed at that, "You aren't that old!" 

"Oh, c'mon! I've got gray hairs already!" He laughed back, getting more giggles from you in return. 

"I like the gray hairs!" You collected yourself before leaning in, your hand on his leg making him jump and almost swerve the car. Your lips brushed against his ear as your fingers moved along his thigh, getting dangerously close to where he really wanted you earlier. "Plus, you actually know what you're doing when you fuck me." 

He swallowed as he tilted his head to make room for your lips on his neck. You weren't usually this forward, but oh man was he loving it. 

"If you don't stop, I'm gonna have to pull the car over and deal with you in the back seat," He gruffly muttered as you lips sucked on that spot on his neck. 

"Mm," you let go of his neck, "Maybe I want you to." He stopped at the next red light and turned to face you, seeing that spark from earlier back in your eyes and he groaned. 

"You're gonna be the death of me, ya know that?"

You giggled and bit your lip, dragging your teeth in the enticing way that you do and he knew he was done for.

"You did say we could do anything I wanted," You whispered, your hand squeezing his thigh again and he shook his head. 

"I did say that, didn't I?" He laughed at your giggle and when the glow against your skin turned green he took off. 

"How about, if you're good till we get home, I'll do that thing you like," He suggested, noticing how your thighs clenched in your seat and your hand tightened around his leg again. He took a glance at you to see all teasing gone from your features and he knew he had you. 

You silently watched him from your seat, eyes darting over his features to see if he was just toying with you. When he got to the next light and stopped, he turned to you again. 

"Well? You gonna be good, sugar?"

The second he got the door open, Bucky pulled you inside, closing the door and locking it as he pressed you against it, molding your lips together. 

With the promise of doing what you loved, you held yourself together on the way home and you were good, so he was going to keep his end of the deal. 

He threw his keys to the counter, hoping they didn't knock anything down as one of his hands gripped the side of your neck and his other wrapped around your waist. He dragged his teeth along your bottom lip, pulling a whine from your throat as he did so and he couldn't help the groan that shook his chest. 

He let go of your neck, tapping your butt with his hands, telling you to jump. You'd done this dance so many times it was like second nature catching your legs and wrapping them around his waist so he could take you to the bed. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands as he walked you to the bed, gently laying you down. He untangled your legs from around him and tried to pull himself away from your grasp, chuckling at your whines of protest. 

"Hold on, sugar," He muttered against your lips before you finally let him go. He stood, bringing each of your legs up so he could pull off your shoes, throwing them to the corner of the room. He felt you tug on the hem of his shirt and he smirked at you. "C'mon now, you know the rules." 

You put on a fake pout and tugged on it again, "Come back." 

He grinned at you, "How do good girls ask?" You narrowed your eyes at him before quickly sitting up to grab his collar, pulling him back down with you and pressing your lips to his again. 

"Please," You whispered in his mouth and he couldn't help the chuckle he let out, getting a giggle from you in return. 

"You're a brat," he said into your skin as he moved to your neck, dragging his lips across the spot where your neck met your shoulder, another sinful whine filling his ears, driving him mad. 

"You like it though," Came your breathy reply. He sat up, holding the hem of your shirt and looking at your face. You were already gone, lost in the moment and he tugged on the fabric to gain your attention. 

"Can I?" He asked and you rolled your eyes, a lazy smile growing on your swollen lips. 

"You know you don't have to ask, anymore," You claimed as you arched your back to help him take your shirt off. 

"I know, but it's the gentlemanly thing to do," he leaned down, tracing kisses down your sternum, and nipping at the flesh of each of your breasts. He reached behind you, pinching the clasp of your bra to open it, pulling it forward and dragging the straps down your arms before tossing it anywhere else. 

"I don't know why you wear that thing," he muttered, moving from one to the other, his breath leaving a hot trail across your skin. He watched as your skin prickled with goosebumps and he couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face, "It can't be comfortable." 

You giggled when he dragged his scruff across your side, "I'm not explaining it again."

"Fine," he softly bit down on your hip, "keep my girls locked up and away from me, why don't you?" 

"Your girls?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him and whining when he looked up at you through his lashes, refusing to let go of your skin before he was sure there would be a mark there in the morning.

"Yeah, my girls," He declared, reaching up with his left hand to gently squeeze your breast, "They're mine, aren't they?" He reached around your leg with his other hand and grabbed your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he crawled back up to you. 

Your hands came up from the bed and tugged his shirt up, ignoring his question. He sat back, pulling the offending fabric over his head and he went to throw it but remembered earlier and he looked at you before holding it out to you. 

"You like how I smell right?" He asked, and at your shy nod, he set the shirt against your skin, "You keep that, and when it doesn't smell like me anymore, I'll give you a new one. How's that sound?" 

You giggled at him, shaking your head but gently pulling it to hide your face, "Okay." 

"You can't use it to hide from me though," he pulled it from your face, crowding you again and dragging his nose across your cheek, "That's not fair." 

You leaned up, pulling his lips down to yours and tossing the shirt to the side. He rested the weight of his hips on you and groaned when you thrusted up, pressing on him in the best way. 

"You owe me," You whispered against his lips and he chuckled. 

"I know, sugar, I promised, didn't I?" He pulled back, sliding his fingers into the waistband of your joggers, "Have I ever broken a promise to you?" 

You shook your head as you leaned up on your elbows, watching as he leaned down and traced the lines of your legs with his mouth, following the descending pants. Once he threw those god knows where on the floor - he'd find them for you in the morning - he shuffled so he could lay between your legs, pressing an open mouth kiss to your clit through your panties. A groan shook through you as your hips tried to follow him when he pulled back. 

"Don't tease me like that," You pouted with a whine, "I was good for you." 

"I know you were," he said the words into the little amount of fabric still covering you, letting his warm breath fan across, driving a shiver up your spine. "You were so good for me, weren't you?" 

You nodded, biting your lip as you watched him, eyes following his fingers as they slipped between you and the fabric before he pulled it back and let it gently snap back at you. When your narrowed eyes snapped to him, he let out a laugh before finally doing what you wanted. 

Once he had that out of the way, he resettled between your legs, wrapping his hands around your thighs and glanced down, a smile growing on his face before he looked up at you again. 

"All this for me?" He asked, leaning his head closer, but when you didn't respond, he froze, his mouth hovering over you, watching you. "Sugar," he drawled, knowing you weren't too far gone to have forgotten the rules - not yet. 

He started this little rule with you when he found out how shy you could get in bed. You'd never been with someone as vocal as he was, and you'd come up with this rule together that if he asked you something, you had to reply.

Huffing a breath out, you finally responded, your voice barely there, "Yes." 

"Good girl," He smirked before dragging his tongue through your folds, groaning when the taste of you hit his tongue. He watched as your jaw went slack when he got to the top, latched his lips around your bundle of nerves and gave it the tiniest suck. A low groan crawled it's way out of your throat as he refused to look anywhere but at you. 

He only pulled his tongue off you for a moment, to angle himself back down before this time fully attaching himself to you, burying himself in you. He held your thighs, gripping them as they tried to flex around his head. Normally, he'd be perfectly fine with it, having your legs wrapped around his head, but he wanted tonight he wanted to hear you. 

It was like this room became his church, you were his deity, and your moans and cries were the choir, reverberating off the walls and flooding his senses as he recited his prayers between your legs. 

He noticed your arms shaking from holding yourself up and released one of your legs, reaching up to press the palm of his hand against your chest, gently pushing you down. "Relax, sugar, let me take care of you, yeah?" He muttered against your folds, groaning into you when you whined, pressing your hips into him. 

He could stay there forever, with your legs over his shoulders, his tongue playing with your center, the taste and sound and smell of you completely taking him over. Your fingers found their place in his hair once again and tugged on the strands, earning another groan from him as he buried it between your fold, sending the vibrations through you. 

He adjusted his arm over you to lay across your stomach, holding your hips down as his other one released your thigh and moved to join his mouth, his fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking into you with ease. 

The gasp you let out made him dizzy as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, slowly dragging the pads of his middle and ring fingers along your walls, in search of that spot. 

He knew he found it once you mewled out his name, oh James, and he felt the spongy spot, pressing down on it, your legs clamping around his head. It's not like you didn't call him James in other situations, but there was something about the way you sang it here, in his bed, that made a shiver run through his spine, the ego boost it carried going straight to his head. 

“Right there, sugar?” He smirked against your skin, not giving you a moment to respond before he reattached his mouth to you, pumping his fingers in time with his tongue rolling against your clit, the pads of his two fingers brushing against that spot over and over and over. 

Spurred on by your chants of oh god, right there James, please, please don’t stop, he worked in tandem with the rhythm your hips had chosen. He knew you were close by the way your walls fluttered around his knuckles and the certain way you scratched his arm as it held your hips stiller than you wanted them. 

Without removing his fingers, he pulled his lips off of you, releasing your hips and reaching to catch your hands, holding them both to your stomach as he pulled himself up just enough to be above your chest. You were watching him with glazed over eyes, your lips parted and your chest heaving as he leaned his head down to catch one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it before grazing his teeth over it. You whined when he released it, but immediately let out a loud moan when he caught the other one, doing the same thing to it. 

"James," you gasped out, "I'm close." 

"Oh sugar, I know. I can feel your walls fluttering," He said as he leaned up to hover his mouth over yours, "Do you wanna cum on my fingers and my tongue, or do you wanna cum on my cock, hm?" He knew you hated when he made you choose like this, as if your brain was clear enough to make a decision. You did your best to look angry at him, but with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you, you couldn't keep the facade up longer than a moment before you moaned again. 

"C'mon, sugar, tell me," His lips brushed against your lips, "Tell me what you want." 

Your panting breaths were fanning against his lips as you fought off your climax, finally giving him an answer. "I want both," You mewled out. 

"Both?" He asked as he moved back down, "You're greedy tonight, aren't you?" 

He didn't know where it came from, the name that rang in his ears, nor did he expect it to have the effect on him that it did. But when the words please, daddy fell from your lips like a prayer - a prayer only he could answer - his brain short circuited. 

You'd never called him that before - hell, he'd never been called that before but by the way he was now painfully erect and he was having trouble holding himself back - he wanted to see what other names he could pull from you. What else would you call him while so lost in what he was doing to you that you didn't even notice what you'd let slip. 

"Fuck. Say that again," He gruffly demanded, holding himself above your core.

It was the fact that you didn't even hesitate before please daddy, don't stop, fell from your lips that had him devouring you like he was a starving man, replacing his fingers with his tongue. You tried to snap your legs around his head but he wrapped his arms around the backs of your thighs to hold them open. 

It wasn't long before he had you falling apart on his tongue with a shout of his name, drinking down everything you had to offer and helping you ride out your orgasm before he finally let you go. He crawled his way up your body, dragging his lips across your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, leaving a wet trail up until he reached your mouth, crashing his lips to yours. 

Your hands flew up to grab his face, pulling him as close as you could get him. He prodded your lips with his tongue, all but begging for entry. When you granted it to him and tasted yourself on him, you let out a long whine. 

Your hands left his face and reached for his belt, tugging on the leather strap. He chuckled at you, "So impatient," before he stood from the bed and finished pulling his layers off.

Reaching for your legs, he made sure he had a good grip on you before slowly pulling you to the edge of the bed where he rested the underside of his cock against your soaked folds, groaning with his head thrown back as you reached up to drag your nails down the skin of his chest. 

Bringing his head back down, he pulled your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, as he told you to be good and hold them there. Your legs were shaking in protest, but you did as he asked, bringing a smirk to his face as he reached for the side of your neck, stroking your cheek with his thumb before grinding himself down on you. 

He watched your eyes flutter as you fought to keep them open, trying to keep your eyes on him as he stroked himself over you, the head brushing against your clit. 

"Don't tease me," You whined out, your grabbing hands growing more desperate to get more of him touching you. You just wanted to feel his skin on yours, in any way he'd offer it. "Please."

He gave the side of your neck the smallest squeeze, watching as you reveled in the pressure, your eyes almost completely closing. "Please what?" 

He thought you were going to respond with the same name from earlier, he was silently praying for it to tumble from your lips again, but what you said was so much better. 

"Please, sir," You all but cried for him and he couldn't ignore the neediness in your voice, even if he wanted to take a minute to just bask in your attention and the names you called him. 

"I got you, baby," He said, pulling away from you just enough to angle himself at your entrance, holding himself back from slamming into you in one go. He knew how sensitive you could get and wanted to make sure you would be okay before he had his way with you. 

"Oh, sugar," he groaned out, squeezing your neck again, "You're always so warm." His breath faltered when you raised your hips, pushing him further into you. Your legs tightened around his hips, pulling him even deeper and he let go of your neck, moving to feel any of your skin he could reach, squeezing everything he could in his hands as he slowly started pumping in and out.

You sighed, finally having the friction you needed, dropping your hands to where his had stopped on your hips. He collected your hands in his own, bringing them together over your stomach and holding both of them in his left while his right one reached down, this thumb pressing slow circles of your clit and earning a sinful moan from you. 

God, he loved being in you, but he wanted more - needed more. He brought your hands over your head, pinning them to the mattress as he crawled over you, angling your hips up to rest on his thighs, going as deep as he could - and by the sounds that escaped your throat, he could tell he was in the perfect spot for you. 

He rocked into you, finding the rhythm that made you cock-drunk and hitting that little spot for you every time. Your pleas filled his head please, right there, oh god right there, don't stop and he swore he could get off on your voice alone as it sang for him. 

He released your hands, grabbing both of your hips to pull them to meet his thrusts, refusing to take his eyes off of you as you cried out for him, each of his thrust earning a louder and louder cry. He would watch you like this all day if the world let him, it was one of his favorite views. But there was one more that he loved just a little bit more. 

He slowed down, slowly dragging himself through your walls and you whined again, moving to reach for him but his voice stopped you. 

"You wanna ride me, sugar?" He asked, smirking when your eyes flew open with determination. He knew you loved it as much as he did when you rode him - possibly even more if he was being honest. 

You nodded your head, wincing when he pulled out of you to crawl up the bed, resting his back against the pillows in front of the headboard. Holding his hands out for you, he helped keep you steady as you took your place over him, sinking back down on to him, the gasp you let out making him twitch in you. 

"C'mon, baby, I wanna see you cum again," He said, releasing your hands once you were fully seated and moving to hold your hips again. Your hands grasped at his chest, scratching his skin as you began to rock yourself. 

It only took a second for you to find your rhythm, your fingers moving along his skin up to his hair and pulling him up to your neck where he sucked on the skin there. He wrapped one of his arms around your back, holding you to him as the noises you let out made him dizzy with need. 

"Jamie, please," You panted, pulling his head back and he knew what you were asking for. He nodded, leaning back and planting his feet on the mattress before thrusting up, meeting your own movements at the perfect angle. 

Your hands landed on his stomach to hold yourself up as he held your hips, pulling you down on to him. He knew you were close again by the pitch of your moans and moved his thumb to stroke your clit again. 

"C'mon baby, give it to me, let me see it," He urged you on and you shook your head, refusing to stop. 

"You first," You squeaked out and he smirked. 

"I'm right behind you, I promise," He moaned, squeezing your hip when you slightly changed the angle, the pressure low in his belly growing and growing. 

"Let go for me, please sugar, let go," he begged, putting just enough pressure behind his thumb to drive you over the edge. 

You cried out as you fell forward, barely catching yourself and it only took him one, two, three more thrusts with your walls fluttering around him for him to follow you over that edge, the white hot pleasure flooding his system as he wrapped his arms around you and held you to him in a death grip. 

Neither of you moved for a while after, catching your breath as your muscles spasmed before relaxing. When he finally calmed down, he reached his hand up to rest on your head and you nuzzled into his neck. He turned his head as much as he could to place his lips against your temple, whispering promises of a love he never intended on breaking. 

The feeling of your lips against his skin stretching into a smile made him sigh, but it was the returned promise of I love you too, Jamie that stole his breath away. 

The warmth that spread through his chest was a welcome one, and he knew that no matter how many times you told him that, his heart would always have that same reaction. 

And he couldn't wait to feel it again. 

As always, thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated <3

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications @remis-library

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[hamsterclaw]

Afterburner

All Jungkook's ever wanted to do is fly, and he's damned good at it. Then you turn up, and get under his skin.

Genre: Fighter pilot! JK AU, smut

Word count: 8k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing, fighter pilots, plane crashes

Wing Commander Jeon Jungkook has done all the calculations he needs to land safely, even on a moving target. He casts a glance at his controls, but he’s not looking at individual displays, just making sure nothing’s red or alarming. His arm is stretched, instinctively locked, and he allows it to relax, allows the throttle to move forward.

Jungkook’s clocked in close to a thousand flight hours in the F-35, more than any other pilot in his squadron, but he’s never taken any of it for granted. He takes his hand off the throttle just long enough to lower the landing gear and flaps. 

Now or never.

Jungkook executes an almost perfect vertical landing on the tarmac of the Destroyer with his eyes closed because frankly if anything went wrong right now it would be beyond his control. 

He opens his eyes, thanks whoever’s looking out for him and climbs out of the cockpit. There’s no time for the adrenaline to ebb, because as soon as his feet touch solid ground on water, he sees a familiar blond head.

He’s too far away to make out his expression, but there’s only one man on this ship with blond hair, and Jungkook’s known Jimin long enough to tell by the way his shoulders are squared that he’s tense, angry.

Jimin’s level-headed normally, he didn’t come by his callsign Durumi by chance. He’s always been slow to anger, able to maintain his perspective, capable of finding a peaceful way forward in almost any conflict. His cool head under pressure makes him valuable in battle, not that they ever engage in dogfights these days.

After knowing him for over a decade, Jungkook can count the number of times he’s seen Jimin angry on one hand. He’s started forward, recognising a bad situation when he sees it, when the fight starts.

It’s quick, merciless and brutal in its efficiency. Jimin darts away, ducks the first blow from the taller man he’s been facing off with, and lands a beautifully timed swing to the other man’s jaw, knocking him out cold.

The man, who Jungkook now recognises as Lee Hyeok, a new transplant from the now defunct 492nd squadron, crumples to the floor, and for the first time, Jungkook sees you.

He knows of you, even if he’s never officially met you. There aren’t that many women around, not in this job, and there hadn’t been any women in his squadron before the merger with 492.

His first impression of you is of blankness. If watching the two men fight had any impact on you whatsoever, it doesn’t show in your smooth expression. 

Jungkook doesn’t trust what he can’t see. And he sure as fuck doesn’t trust you, given what’s just happened.

‘What the hell, Jimin?’ he asks, voice tense, one eye on the fallen pilot sprawled on the deck.

Jimin’s gaze flicks to yours, and you both start speaking at the same time.

Jungkook holds up a hand. ‘This is going to be an investigation, you know that,’ he says, to Jimin more than you.

‘There’s nothing to investigate,’ says Lee Hyeok. He gets up, unsteady but recovering rapidly. He fixes Jungkook with a steady gaze. ‘I fell.’

Jungkook hardens his stare. ‘I saw him —‘

Unexpectedly, you step forward. ‘It was my fault,’ you say, quietly, convincingly.

Jimin’s trying to step in front of you. 

Jungkook throws his hands up, exasperated. 

‘If this happens again I’m reporting all three of you,’ Jungkook says. 

Wisely, all three of you fall silent. 

‘Go and get checked out in the infirmary,’ Jungkook orders.

Jimin grabs your arm as you try to move away. ‘You need to get checked out too,’ he says, firmly.

Jungkook can’t see any visible injuries on you, unlike Jimin’s swollen hand and Hyeok’s bruised jaw. 

‘I’m fine,’ you say, but you go along with them anyway.

Jungkook watches you walk away, with a sense of foreboding. He’d known the merger of 492nd and his own wouldn’t be smooth, but he wonders what the hell that had been about.

***

The next morning, Jungkook wakes to an ache in his neck from years of straining against g-forces and an erection that he takes care of in the shower. It’s been a while since he last got laid, he’s just come off a mission in the South.

He casts a cursory glance in the mirror as he gets dressed in his regs. His hair’s getting longer, starting to wave in a way it doesn’t when he’s on top of getting it cut regularly. 

He’s going to need to stop by the barber later this morning.

The truth is, though, that Jungkook doesn’t think about the way he looks much. At least not in the way women seem to view him. He’d never thought twice about his eyes until an ex had snapped at him to ‘stop making those goddamn doe eyes’ at her. He’s always been athletic, the defined abs and shoulders he’s had since high school have only got more prominent since he started training more, eating well. He’d never really thought about his thighs until another ex had seemed to get off on how they felt under her. 

So although he’s never had to make an effort to find a woman willing to sleep with him, Jungkook’s never been the type of guy to take advantage. 

Jungkook’s always wanted to fly, and everything else has always, always, only ever been a means to that. 

He laces his boots, right before left, and heads for the canteen. He picks up a tray, looks for somewhere to sit, really scanning for Jimin or Namjoon or Yoongi. He doesn’t see any of his friends, but he does see you.

You’re sitting alone by the window, conspicuous in your solitariness. Jungkook finds his feet taking him over to you, an instinct he doesn’t understand but he learned long ago to trust his gut.

You look up as he puts his tray down and takes the seat opposite you. You nod a greeting and carry on eating like you don’t intend to say anything to him.

Jungkook watches as you gulp your coffee.

‘You know, if you’re eating quicker to finish your meal and get away from me, you don’t have to,’ he tells you.

You put your empty cup down.

‘I can move,’ he offers.

‘It’s nothing like that, Commander Jeon,’ you say. Your face is expressionless, blank as usual. ‘I’m thinking about the day ahead.’

Jungkook spoons his porridge. ‘I didn’t mean to presume,’ he says. ‘Did the docs clear you for duty?’

There’s the barest flicker across your face as you reply. ‘I’ve been cleared. Jimin and Hyeok are off for a week.’ 

‘Want to tell me what happened?’ he asks.

Your eyes study his face, and if Jungkook didn’t already know you were holding back he’d have worked it out by the emotions he can see in your eyes.

Then you blink, and sit back. 

‘I have nothing to say, Commander,’ you say. 

You’ve decided not to trust him, and Jungkook’s irritated about it, enough that there’s an edge to his voice as he says, ‘there’s a flight exercise at 1200 hours. We’re going up in the F-15.’

You nod, and pick up your tray. ‘I’ll be there, Commander.’

Jungkook looks down at his now lukewarm porridge after you walk away. Somehow he’s lost his appetite.

***

It’s a beautiful day for flying. Jungkook’s cued up first, waiting for the go ahead from the control tower, that familiar electricity coursing through his veins. No matter how many times he suits up, it never gets old.

He flicks the engine switch, hand on the throttle, feet braced on the rudder pedals. He goes through the steps, 0 to 175 in under two minutes and then he’s off, positive rate of climb. 

He can see in his helmet-mounted cueing system that everything’s as it should be. He evens out at fifty thousand feet, and checks his colour display to see you taking up wingman alongside him.

Your cool voice sounds in his in-ears, sounding like you’re in his head.

‘All good, Hawk?’

Jungkook knows that, as far as callsigns go, he’s fortunate to have been named ‘Hawk’, unlike Namjoon’s ‘Snoopy’ or Taehyung’s ‘Baby G’, but he’s never seen himself as a ‘hawk’. He much prefers Jimin’s ‘Durumi’. 

He realises he doesn’t know your callsign. 

‘It’s ‘Kokinchan’,’ you say, like you can hear the question he hasn’t voiced. ‘Like in Anpanman.’

The disgruntlement in your voice doesn’t stop the smile across Jungkook’s face, and he’s grateful you can’t see it. 

‘Ok, Kokinchan. Ready to fly?’

By the time Jungkook lands on the tarmac, he’s learned two things about you. One, you’re a pretty steady, reliable wingman and two — totally unrelated to flying….

Your voice sounds incredible in his ear. 

Initially, he’d thought you were a blank, difficult to read. Listening to you during the flight, he’d been able to pick up all your emotions in your voice. The lilt in your words as you’d executed a manoeuvre perfectly in sync with him, the hitch in your breathing as you’d taken in the glorious terrain. The last breathy gasp you’d let out before you’d landed, a release after the silent concentration that had preceeded it, had sent blood shooting to his cock. 

Jungkook’s glad he’s still got his g-suit on to keep blood streaming to appropriate places in his body.

You clamber out of the cockpit, all legs, fizzing over with excitement, and catch up to him by the locker rooms.

Because he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, he sees the moment your dizzy expression smooths over into your usual deadpan face. 

You haven’t quite managed to curb the emotion in your voice, though, and Jungkook has the uncharacteristic urge to pull you under his arm and squeeze you when you say, ‘incredible,’ voice vibrating.

Jungkook starts unzipping his g-suit to give himself something to do. Behind him, he can hear you rustling, getting changed yourself. 

You spend time unlacing your boots, placing them carefully in your locker.

Jungkook’s amused by your persnicketiness, a stark contrast to the piles of boots scattered throughout the locker room.

He says, meaning it as a joke, ‘I don’t think anyone else wears your size.’

In his squadron, Jimin’s not a lot taller than you but his feet are definitely bigger than yours. 

You don’t look his way. ‘I don’t want to share with a bunch of stinky male feet,’ you reply. 

Jungkook’s so attuned to your voice by now he picks up a guardedness that he hasn’t heard since he met you that first time.

You don’t give him time to think about it.

When you turn to him, your expression is fractionally warmer than your customary blankness. ‘See you at lunch, Commander.’

***

He doesn’t see you at lunch. In fact, the next time Jungkook sees you, you’re wearing a short dress and leaning back against the bar in the nice restaurant in town.

He says your real name, and you give him a smile so pained he thinks for a second it isn’t you.

Then you say his name back. 

‘I’m hiding,’ you say by way of explanation, manoeuvring yourself so that he’s between you and the rest of the room.

‘Need a wingman?’ Jungkook offers, for lack of anything better to say. You’re leaning forward, head close to his, and from this vantage point he can see down the low neck of your dress. 

He forces his eyes back to your face. Thankfully you haven’t noticed his lapse.

You look morose. ‘I wish I had Snoopy to aim a laser at him,’ you reply. You brighten. ‘Maybe you could shoot him down.’

Jungkook’s only mildly concerned, he’s seen you being merciless in training exercises and he’s pretty sure you can look after yourself.

‘I don’t know why I bother to date,’ you sigh.

Then you seem to notice how smartly dressed he is. ‘Shit, sorry, are you meeting someone?’

‘She cancelled,’ Jungkook explains. ‘I have a table. I was looking forward to the wagyu.’

‘She’s a fool to cancel on you, look at you,’ you say, loyally. 

‘Where’s your date?’ Jungkook asks.

‘I excused myself to use the ladies,’ you say, face falling as you remember your predicament. ‘He was explaining how the F-18 weapons systems work.’

‘He knows you fly them, doesn’t he?’ Jungkook asks, incredulous.

You roll your eyes. ‘Some men.’ 

You shrug. ‘I should fly one over his house,’ you say, despondent. ‘We haven’t even ordered and I’m looking forward to leaving.’

There’s an unfamiliar male voice over Jungkook’s shoulder. 

‘There you are,’ says a good-looking, tall guy, smiling at you.

Jungkook’s always been quick on his feet. 

He turns to face the guy. ‘Honey,’ he says, voice exasperated. ‘I thought we weren’t doing this anymore.’

You blink up at him, so quick he has whiplash. ‘Baby, he’s cute, you said —-‘

‘I’m sorry,’ Jungkook says to the guy, acting embarrassed. ‘We’re in an open marriage but well, we agreed to —-‘

You slide smoothly up to him, hand hooking into the crook of his arm like you’ve done it a million times before. ‘But daddy —-‘

Jungkook stares you down sternly. ‘We said no more pickups unless we talk about it beforehand. And where’s your wedding ring?’

You pout up at him. ‘Daddy I can’t pick up guys with a wedding ring on.’ 

Jungkook sighs, turning back to your unfortunate date. ‘Sorry, man. We need to talk —-‘

The guy’s already backing away, hands up. ‘I had no idea,’ he says to Jungkook. ‘That she was married.’

Jungkook waves him away and turns back to you.

‘Daddy?’ he asks, under his breath. ‘Do I seem like a daddy to you?’

‘He’s out the door,’ you report, gracing him with a smile so bright he can’t help but smile back. ‘Do you still have your table? I like wagyu too.’

‘You’re buying, Kokinchan,’ Jungkook grumbles.

‘I’ll even spring for dessert,’ you promise. 

***

The steak’s as buttery and delicious as Jungkook had expected, going down easy with the wine you’d ordered with a careless gesture at the wine list.

You’re concentrating on your steak, humming as you enjoy it, and Jungkook likes watching you.

‘Why Kokinchan?’ he asks.

You narrow your eyes at him, skin gleaming in the candlelight. ‘I made Minseok cry once. And I cried too.’

‘What happened?’ 

‘Dropped the weight I was holding on his balls.’ You grimace. ‘He cried and I felt so bad I cried too, running him to the infirmary.’

‘On purpose?’

There’s a shadow across your expression. ‘Hyeok thought it’d be funny to sneak up on me and grab my ass. Minseok was a bystander.’

Jungkook’s got the sense there’s more to the story you’re not telling him. 

You shrug and change the subject. 

‘So how come your date ditched you?’ you ask. ‘Apart from that she’s an idiot, of course.’

‘Of course,’ agrees Jungkook, smiling crookedly at you.

It’s his turn to shrug. ‘Maybe she turned up and didn’t like the look of me.’

You scoff. ‘Please, you look great. That shade of blue suits you. Better than khaki and black, anyway. I didn’t know you had a lip ring.’

Jungkook’s trying to keep up. ‘I like wearing black.’

‘We wear black all the time,’ you reply. You gesture to the silvery dress you have on. ‘It’s nice to wear something else.’

Jungkook’s trying to think of something to say when you say, quickly. ‘I’m not fishing for a compliment. Just to clarify.’

‘I wasn’t going to give you one,’ he says, honestly. 

You laugh. ‘Shit. Thanks, I guess.’

You lift your wine and clink glasses with him. 

‘Cheers, Hawk. What do you want for dessert?’

***

Jungkook pays the taxi driver and is wondering if he should offer you his jacket when he realises you’re already halfway to the block of living quarters.

‘Wait up,’ he calls.

You wave a graceful arm at him without turning around. ‘I don’t put out on a first date, not even for a man who can fire a cannon.’

Jungkook stops, torn between amusement and exasperation.

‘I just wanted to say thanks for dinner,’ he says.

You turn, and he realises you’re more off-balance than he originally thought.

‘How drunk are you?’ he wonders out loud.

You tip your head to one side, counting.

Jungkook stares at you, brow furrowed.

‘Three,’ you say, decisive. ‘There are three of you.’

You shake your head. ‘No, four.’

‘Need help getting into your flat?’ Jungkook asks, rolling his eyes.

You frown at him, offended. ‘Of course not. See you at training tomorrow, Commander.’

You give him a tipsy salute and turn away.

Jungkook waits until you’re safely inside the building anyway.

***

Jungkook looks up as you slide into your seat in the briefing room. You’re technically right on time, but everyone else arrived ten minutes early.

You give him a tentative smile that he doesn’t have time to return. 

Colonel Park, a decorated veteran and director of the fighter pilot programme, clears his throat and begins.

Jungkook already knows about this upcoming mission, as leader of the 490th squadron, he’s been pre-briefed.

On the surface, it’s simple enough. The mission only needs four pilots, two to make a drop and two to create a diversion and cover the drop.

Jimin, back from medical leave and none the worse for wear, nods his way.

After the brief he comes up to Jungkook. 

‘Flip for it?’ he says, that familiar shit-eating grin on his face as Jungkook rolls his eyes.

Jungkook’s the most decorated pilot in the squadron but Jimin’s a close second. 

Jungkook shrugs.

Jimin produces a coin and flips it onto his palm. 

‘Heads,’ Jungkook calls.

It’s tails.

‘Great. I’ll make the drop, you provide the distraction. Also, you get Kokinchan,’ Jimin says.

‘Shit, did they just flip for us?’ Taehyung asks, nudging you, pretending to be offended.

You shrug. ‘All you boys look the same in my afterburner,’ you say, to a chorus of whoops from Jimin and Taehyung.

Jungkook catches your gaze. ‘If your trash talk’s as good as your flying, Kokinchan, we’ve got this,’ he says, easy.

‘My flying’s even better, Hawk, it’s your lucky day.’

Jungkook laughs and follows you to the locker rooms to suit up.

***

You’re tight on Jungkook’s tail, keeping up with him even though the terrain’s unfamiliar to you both.

He pulls his nose up. There’s a SMARD missile a few hundred meters away that he’s intentionally going to fly within radar detection range of, and then he’s relying on his own flying and your flares to evade.

He’s activating his mic to speak when your voice sounds in his in-ears.

‘Flares are ready when you are, Hawk.’

‘Glad you’re paying attention, baby.’

‘Maybe I’ll let them burn your ass for that.’

‘Sorry, Kokinchan. If it helps, I once called Durumi, baby. He’s never let me live it down.’

‘Durumi’s kind of a baby though, I see it.’

Jungkook laughs. 

‘Let’s go, Kokinchan.’

He adjusts his position, heading straight for the target.

He’s just entered the detection zone when his in-ears crackle with the voice of Hyemi from control. 

Jungkook has a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

‘Hawk, there’s a bandit, due North.’

It’s one thing to evade a SMARD, it’s another to evade a SMARD with a bandit, a hostile plane on you.

You’re already descending, trying to get out of range on the off-chance that Jungkook hasn’t triggered the SMARD.

He admires your optimism but he’s a realist.

Your voice is steady in his in-ears. ‘Ready to drop, Hawk.’

Jungkook says, terse, ‘Stay on me.’

He sees smoke, pulls back on the throttle, hard, to ascend, and you drop your flares like you’ve rehearsed it.

Your timing’s impeccable.

The SMARD zips past Jungkook just as you say, ‘don’t think he just wants to say ‘hi’’.

The bandit’s approaching too fast, right in your flight path.

He can hear you shouting, but he can’t make out any actual words apart from ‘motherfucker’, clear as day, as you fire your cannon.

The bandit implodes in front of them, a ball of burning shrapnel.

Then ‘ah shit, Hawk, I’m an engine down.’

Jungkook’s reassured by the tone of your voice, calm despite the fact you’re two octaves higher in pitch than you normally are.

‘Hey,’ he says, going for levity because you need to detach yourself from what’s just happened before the adrenaline overwhelms you. ‘Is that why they call you Kokinchan?’

‘Why?’ you ask, playing along, grasping at the hope of a punchline that you can actually laugh at to release some of the tension.

‘Because of that squeaky voice,’ he says.

His stupid joke doesn’t warrant the full-bodied laugh you let out, but Jungkook likes hearing it all the same.

‘You know what they really call you, Hawk?’ 

‘What?’ Jungkook asks, watching you carefully as you head back to base.

‘The boba-eyed fuckboi.’

‘Shut up, no one calls me that.’

You both laugh. 

Then, soft in his in-ears. ‘I can make it back with one engine right?’

‘Yeah,’ he says immediately, wanting to reassure you. ‘Just don’t break the other one.’

‘Yeah. See you on the ground, Hawk.’

‘I’ll be in your afterburner, Kokinchan.’

The last thing he hears before you land is your soft laughter.

He’s reminded again of how much he likes the way you sound.

***

Jungkook climbs out of his cockpit, looking around for you.

He finds you hunched over a bin next to the hangar, eyes watering, hand on your stomach.

Wordlessly, he hands you his water.

You flick your eyes at him as you accept and take a big swig, wiping your mouth. 

Jungkook leans against the wall next to you, head back, not wanting you to feel like he’s intruding. The setting sun warms the skin on his face and neck.

When he opens his eyes, you’re looking at him.

The ends of your hair are on fire, backlit by the sunset. 

You’re beautiful.

‘I’ve —‘ you stop, swallow. ‘I’ve never killed someone before, Hawk.’ 

Jungkook knows what you’re really asking. He’s taken down two fighters in combat because he had to. It’d taken him a while to feel normal again. 

He’s not sure he even still knows what normal is. 

‘You think about it less over time,’ he says carefully, wanting to reassure you but not wanting to give you unrealistic expectations. 

You’re looking at him intently, searching his face. 

Jungkook lets you look, stays still, gazing back at you steadily, unflinching, until you find whatever it is you’re looking for. 

You both seem to realise how close you’re standing to each other at the same time. 

You take a step back because he can’t, pressed with his back against the wall. 

‘Hey, let’s get a beer,’ he says. 

‘You buying?’ you ask, reverting to your default spiky personality. 

Jungkook has the urge to hug you, to tell you that you don’t have to put up your spikes with him, that he’ll toe whatever boundaries you put in front of him. 

Instead he says, ‘yeah. I’ll even spring for dinner, Kokinchan.’ 

Back at the locker room you drop your boots next to his. ‘I think I dropped my locker keys,’ you say, frowning. 

Jungkook says, gently, ‘you don’t have to worry about me stealing your boots.’ 

Again, he gets the odd sense that he’s missing something when he sees your expression. 

All you say is, ‘I’d like Italian for dinner please, Hawk.’ 

Jungkook’s ready to buy you whatever you want to eat. 

***

The restaurant’s busy for a Thursday but Jungkook gets you in, no problem. He doesn’t even have to use his ‘boba eyes’ although he’s sure that’s not a thing.

You’re smiling at him, open and so pretty he’s wondering how inappropriate it would be to kiss you, when your eyes focus on something behind him.

The guarded, carefully blank expression that drops across your face reminds him of curtains being drawn, of shutters being snapped shut.

‘Hyeok,’ you say tightly, and Jungkook doesn’t have to know you well, at all, to hear the tension in your voice.

Your shoulders are around your ears.

Jungkook feels tense himself as Hyeok and Sungcheol, another pilot from 492nd, stop by the table.

‘Hey, Kokinchan,’ Hyeok says. 

The words are harmless enough, but Jungkook doesn’t like the way he sounds. He especially doesn’t like the way he looks at you. 

Hyeok nods to Jungkook. ‘Commander.’

‘Heard you took down an F-15 today,’ Hyeok says.

‘What’s your point?’ you ask, voice low, barely veiled hostility in your eyes.

Jungkook wants to tell you he’s got you but you’re not even looking at him.

‘Is that what it takes to get the Commander to buy you dinner?’ Hyeok asks.

The insinuation is clear.

‘Why don’t you try it and let me know?’ you ask.

There’s a taunting, defiant note in your voice that Jungkook can’t help but admire.

He stands. ‘If you’ll excuse us, I promised Kokinchan dinner for saving our asses earlier,’ he says firmly, indicating they should move on.

When he sits back down you’re quiet until he says, ‘hey.’

The look you give him is very different from how you’d been until now. He’s reminded of that first time he sat across from you at breakfast, how you’d finished your scalding hot coffee in record time in your haste to move.

‘Why are fighter pilots such assholes,’ you mutter.

‘I don’t know. A baseline disrespect for authority or anyone who tells us ‘no’? A deluded sense of god-like power from cheating death repeatedly?’

You’re looking at him again, and Jungkook’s not going to let you hide back in your shell.

‘You and I are still the same, Kokinchan, and today we’ve earned these carbs. Eat up.’

‘I didn’t know you’d ever met a carb,’ you say, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips now.

‘Thank you for noticing,’ Jungkook says, flexing.

The smile on your face is brief, only lasting the gap between bites, but it’s enough for Jungkook.

By the time dessert comes round Jungkook’s gently teasing you, revelling in your embarrassment as he reminds you about the choice swear words you shouted into his in-ears during the mission.

‘You’re one to talk,’ you say. ‘You sound really breathy when you’re gaining altitude.’

Jungkook raises a brow.

‘It’s practically pornographic,’ you continue.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. ‘Please, Durumi is more pornographic than me. You should hear him when he’s pushing g’s.’

‘Oh my god, Baby G’s the worst,’ you say, but there’s affection in your voice.

‘That’s because his voice is sexy as a baseline,’ Jungkook points out. 

‘Yeah, we used to share a flat before I got fed up with hearing all his sex talk,’ you say. 

‘He does seem like the kind of guy who’d talk a lot during sex,’ Jungkook agrees.

‘Just noises are fine for me thanks, throw in a couple of oh baby’s and I’m good,’ you say, lightly.

Jungkook realises you’ve made it all the way to your door. 

You say, ‘thanks for dinner, Hawk,’ but you don’t move, standing with your back pressed against the door.

Jungkook feels like he’s not ready to say goodbye, but he’s not going to push you into anything.

‘It does get better,’ he tells you. 

You smile. ‘The aftermath of taking down another pilot or Baby G’s sex talk? Because Taehyung only gets worse, I can tell you.’

You’re joking of course, deflecting again.

Jungkook can feel your eyes on his face.

He leans forward a little, putting his weight on the closed door, giving you time to move if you want to.

Instead you stay put, face tilted to his.

There’s no reason to be standing like this apart from that he very badly wants to kiss you.

‘Hawk,’ you breathe. You’re reaching up, pressing a chaste, sweet kiss to his cheek. 

‘Thanks for dinner.’

Jungkook smiles at you. ‘Anytime, Kokinchan.’

You smile at him again, then turn and let yourself into your apartment.

Jungkook’s left with a vague tightness in his pants and a sense that this thing with you could be something good if you let it.

***

Jungkook wakes the next morning thinking of you.

His hand brushes his erect cock, fingers tightening around himself.

He pumps his fist once, the memory of your pretty lips on his cheek making his dick harden even more.

He’s no virgin but the thought of getting to see you in the pale lace lingerie he’d glimpsed that night he’d run into you at that restaurant and accidentally looked down the low neck of your top makes him keep moving his fist.

Shit. Is he really doing this?

Even as he ponders the morality of it his hands are moving, uncapping the lube he keeps under his mattress like he’s some teenager and not a full grown adult who changes his own sheets.

Jungkook groans at the slide, dick hardening even more as he remembers how firm your breasts felt against his chest when you kissed him.

Fuck, you’d kissed him! With those lips he’s been a little too respectful to imagine around his cock. 

God, you’d smelled so good.

He’s gasping now, hand moving faster, other hand cupping his balls. 

He thinks of the breathy gasp you’d let out when you landed the F-15, the way your voice sounds when you say ‘fuck’ and he’s gone.

As he’s cleaning up he wonders, a little guiltily, whether he’ll be able to look you in the face at breakfast.

***

As it turns out, he doesn’t see you at breakfast.

He’s picking up his gear from the locker room, when he notices that your boots have moved from where they were next to his.

He frowns. It takes him a while to spot them, longer to realise why they look odd.

Your laces have been cut, all the way across the middle, laid open, useless.

He picks them up, heads for the mess lounge. 

Stops in front of the stupid bulletin board no one ever looks at, including him.

There’s a picture of you, but not as he’s ever seen you before.

It’s your face, certainly, pretty and smiling, stuck onto a printout of a naked female body. 

It’s glaring, crude, invasive. 

Jungkook stares at it incredulously, startles guiltily when he hears your voice.

You tear it off the bulletin board, crumpling it in your fist.

‘I’d chuck it in the trash but there’s no guarantee someone wouldn’t just lift it out and put it up again,’ you say, voice carefully, cautiously flat.

You nod to the boots in his hand. 

‘I have a new set of laces, I always have a spare pair with me,’ you say. 

Jungkook lets you take the boots from him.

He finds his voice.

‘Has this happened before, Y/N?’

You wince at the sound of your real name instead of your callsign.

You shrug. 

‘I don’t have anything to say about it, Commander.’

Like you, Jungkook blinks at the sting of his title instead of the more familiar ‘Hawk’ he’d got accustomed to you calling him. 

‘Kokinchan,’ he says, willing you to trust him.

You’re looking above his head, through him instead of at him.

‘I can help. If someone in the squadron is doing all this I can help make it stop,’ Jungkook says.

You’re looking at him now, eyes softening.

‘It’s a society that enables this kind of hateful misogyny that has to change, Hawk, not you.’

There’s a sadness to your smile that punches him in the chest.

You turn, back straight, and leave the room as he’s trying to think of something to say.

***

You’re sitting with Jimin at dinner when Jungkook turns up. 

‘You ok?’ Jungkook asks. He hasn’t seen you since the lounge, he’d had to go to another brief.

Your expression is difficult to read. 

‘I’m good, Hawk. Heard you got called in by Colonel Park.’

Jimin’s looking at him expectantly, so Jungkook allows the change of subject.

‘We’ve got another job to do,’ he says, reluctantly. ‘We’ll get a full brief tomorrow but it’s another drop.’

‘Who’s going?’ Jimin asks.

‘We need six,’ Jungkook says, ‘and two alternates.’

He looks at you. 

‘You’re flying with Skua.’

Skua is Hyeok’s callsign.

‘Fuck that. I’ll fly with Skua,’ Jimin says, instantly, vehement. ‘You can’t put Kokinchan in with that asshole.’

You’re looking at Jungkook, expression blank. It’s only the tenseness in your shoulders that gives any sign that any of this affects you.

‘I’m guessing you and Durumi are up front, and me and Skua and Baby G and Snoopy are wingmen?’

Jungkook says, ‘if you and Skua have a problem you need to let me know.’

He’s open to changing things around, hell, he’ll lie through his teeth if there’s any genuine risk from pairing you with Skua.

He’ll get you the hell out if you ask.

Instead you say, ‘there’s no problem, Hawk.’

‘That asshole —-‘ Jimin starts indignantly.

You put your hand on his arm. ‘Durumi, I can’t fly if I can’t work in a team with everyone,’ you say.

‘Swap me out with Baby G, he can fly lead and Snoopy and Skua can pair up. I’ll fly with Kokinchan,’ Jimin says to Jungkook.

You say, so lightly Jungkook’s almost fooled, ‘you’re too good to fly wing, Jimin. Also, come on, me and Skua have flown together before.’

Jimin argues, ‘before he tried to grab your ass? Before he tried to pull your top down? Before the hundredth time he cut your laces? Before he left that obscene picture of you on the billboard?’

Jungkook’s stunned. ‘It was Hyeok who did all that?’

You say, very firmly, ‘I can’t prove that he cut my laces or printed that picture.’

You put your hand on Jimin’s arm again. ‘Jimin, if I made a formal complaint, you know I’d be grounded whilst an investigation took place.’

Jungkook says, ‘you wouldn’t be grounded—‘

He breaks off at the look you give him. 

‘He’s never done anything whilst we’ve been flying,’ you point out. ‘He wants to fly just as much as I do, as we all do.’

You’re pushing away from the dinner table, lifting your tray. 

‘It’ll be fine, Hawk,’ you say. You put your hand on Jimin’s shoulder, and, reluctantly, he puts his hand over yours. 

‘I’m gonna get some downtime before tomorrow,’ you say. 

You’re walking away like there’s nothing left to say.

***

You’re almost late again, sliding in the seat next to Jungkook at the brief the next morning with barely thirty seconds to spare.

He glances at you. 

Your hair is pulled back, the collar of your jumpsuit folded neatly. 

You’re crisp, clean, and you give him a smile so detached he wants to shake you.

The brief is quick, it’s a route you’ve all flown before, and you’ve been training together for weeks now.

Jungkook’s getting changed into his g-suit when he realises you’re not in the locker room with the rest of the team.

He’s about to go looking for you, when you emerge from the single shower cubicle, fully suited up. 

‘Thanks, Durumi,’ you say quietly.

Jimin’s been getting changed himself outside the cubicle door whilst you got changed inside, blocking any access to you.

Jimin replies, ‘no problem, Kokinchan. Laces all good?’

Jungkook looks at your feet and realises you’ve swapped out your regulation black laces for bright orange. 

‘They’re great,’ you say, beaming at him. ‘Aren’t they, Hawk?’

‘You’ll be visible from space in those,’ teases Jungkook. 

You’re looking around as you reach the runway. 

Jungkook says, cautiously, ‘Skua got swapped out.’

You glance at him, surprised. ‘What happened?’

‘Baby G’s taking the lead on this one.’

You’re listening, waiting for him to continue.

‘I’m flying with you,’ Jungkook says.

You raise an eyebrow warily. ‘What’s behind this, Hawk?’

Jungkook says, ‘Colonel Park felt Baby G needed a push to step up.’

You’re not letting him off the hook that easily. ‘Did you suggest it to him?’

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook confesses. He says, carefully, ‘I spoke to Hyeok.’

You’re quiet, guarded. ‘What did he say?’

Jungkook’s got no desire to go over the comments Hyeok had made about you.

‘He didn’t help himself,’ Jungkook says, finally. 

You’ve reached the F-18. You climb into the front seat. 

From where he’s sat in the back Jungkook can’t see your face clearly.

You connect your helmet, turn on your mic.

‘I don’t know whether it’s worse to have someone be contemptuous of you or to feel sorry for you,’ you say. 

Jungkook’s scrambling for something to say, but you’re not waiting for him to speak anyway, nodding to your tech. 

You give the signal, the canopy comes down and then you’re going through your checks, flipping switches, checking your status with control.

Then you’re speeding down the runway, burning your way into the horizon.

***

Jungkook’s concentrating, focusing in on your target as you navigate the terrain. 

You’re fast, confident, and Jungkook likes your style. 

For making a drop though, your speed means his window for firing is limited if you’re to have any hope of hitting your target.

Neither of you can afford to mess up the timing.

Up ahead, Baby G and Durumi are blazing through, and Snoopy’s timed the first drop beautifully.

You descend smoothly, and Jungkook’s knows he’s timed it perfectly when the target implodes.

You’ve already got the throttle pulled back, hissing through your teeth at the g-forces holding you down, fighting through it.

Then you’re gliding, evening out.

You sigh shakily, and Jungkook, on autopilot, checks his peripherals.

There’s smoke. 

‘Shit.’

‘What is it Hawk?’ you ask, instantly on guard.

Jungkook knows you’re a good pilot, but in this moment he sure as hell wishes he was in the driving seat.

‘It’s an MD45,’ he says, clear, calm.

You’re quiet a moment.

An MD45 is tech beyond your own military capabilities, a missile that’s reportedly impossible to evade.

Two of your own were taken out by an MD45 last month.

You say, ‘well shit.’

Jungkook’s thinking of your squadron in front of you and the terrain up ahead. 

‘How do you feel about flying into the side of a mountain, Kokinchan?’ 

‘At this speed, our time to die is five seconds, if that, Commander,’ you say. To your credit, your voice is steady, neutral, as you process his words.

‘Have you ejected before?’ Jungkook asks. 

‘I usually wait for a third date before I let a guy eject on me,’ you say. 

Jungkook’s bark of laughter surprises you both. 

‘I guess we’re going to second base. Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it good for you.’

He can see the craggy rock of the side of the mountain coming up fast.

It takes four seconds from pulling the ejection handle to being ejected.

The speed you’re going, it’ll be ten seconds to impact.

A time to die of ten seconds. 

‘Canopy the fuck up, Hawk,’ you say, turning the plane. 

He can see you reaching down between your legs, pulling up the ejection handle. 

Four.

A beat of total stillness.

Three. 

The canopy slides back, bringing with it a rush of wind. 

Two. 

Jungkook can’t hear anything but the pounding of his heart, can’t see anything but the back of your helmet, the way your shoulders are squared. 

One. 

Jungkook closes his eyes as he’s shot into the sky. 

Below him, there’s the sense of tremendous impact as the F-15 flies straight into the mountain, followed by the MD45.

Jungkook’s chute unfolds, a ceiling of cream protecting him from the sky. 

He wonders where you are.

***

When he opens his eyes, there’s a swirling blue sky above him, clouds floating across his field of view.

He’s on his back. He can move all his limbs.

Jungkook unclips his harness and rolls out of his landing gear.

He sits up, slowly, taking stock of his injuries. Apart from an almighty crick in his neck and grazes on both his knees, he’s unharmed.

Now he’s looking for you, squinting against the sun.

There’s a spill of cream a hundred feet away, so much parachute he can’t even see you.

He approaches, lifting the parachute, looking for you amidst the folds of fabric.

There’s a flash of neon orange laces, a booted foot, and Jungkook drops to his knees as he tugs the material off you.

Your arms are strapped in, a safety mechanism in your flight jacket. It looks like you landed on your back. You’re still out cold.

He touches your face.

‘Kokinchan.’

He can hear the panic in his voice. He doesn’t sound like himself.

Fair enough. He doesn’t feel like himself.

He’s checking you over for injuries when he hears your voice.

‘Fuck,’ you say, peeking down at him. ‘Thank fuck you swapped out with Skua.’

Jungkook’s leaning over you, close to your face.

Your smile makes him feel like he can breathe again.

Apparently you feel the same. 

‘Hey, Hawk,’ you say, pulling him down to you. ‘Can we go to third base now?’

Jungkook’s lips are already pressed to your skin, next to your mouth. 

You turn your head the slightest fraction, and your lips meet.

The adrenaline washes out of his veins, replaced by a sweet, singing pleasure as he kisses you.

Your hands grab fistfuls of his g-suit, tight, as you part your lips and take him in.

‘Fuck, Hawk, fuck,’ you murmur, breathless, warm, gasping as he leaves your lips to kiss around to your ear, down your neck.

Jungkook reaches for the zipper down your front only to realise you’ve beaten him to it.

He tries for his own zipper, realises you’ve beaten him to that too.

‘Let me help, Kokinchan,’ he says. He means it to sound teasing but it comes out urgent, breathy.

‘Don’t make me wait, Hawk,’ you reply.

Jungkook’s tugging down your undersuit, revealing pink lace, so pretty he wonders if the fall affected his vision.

He splays his hand over your panties, dizzy, elated, verging on drunken wonder.

‘Are you always this pretty?’ he wonders. ‘All this under that stupid flight suit?’

He’s rubbing his thumb over your cunt, and the way you whimper and roll up into his hand makes him realise how hard he’s getting.

You cup his face. ‘I need you, Hawk,’ you plead.

‘I’m here,’ he says, pulling his own suit down, pushing his undersuit down just enough.

Then he’s on top of you, pushing into you, trying not to come as you take all of him inside you and wrap your arms around him like you’re afraid he’ll leave.

Jungkook can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. 

He can’t think.

So he moves, because if nothing else he knows how to do this, even when you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere and you’ve just crashed a fucking plane into a fucking mountain and almost fucking died in the process.

He knows how to do this, knows how to please you. 

He moves, holds on long enough to hear you crying out his name as you come, holds on long enough to reach his own pleasure.

Then you’re sobbing, tears on his neck as he holds you, and then, fuck all this shit, Jungkook’s crying too.

***

Jungkook’s amused to know you tuck a credit card in one of your breast pockets whenever you fly, for the express purpose of if you ever got stranded anywhere. 

He’s grateful when your credit card gets you a hire car. 

He’s laughing when you discover he also carries his wallet and ID whenever he flies but didn’t bother to tell you, enjoying how goshdarned cute you were when you waved your credit card at him triumphantly. 

Jungkook volunteers to drive, and you badger him until he stops at a gas station for snacks. 

It’s not badgering, even though you seem to think it is. He likes it. 

Now you’re in the passenger seat, reclined all the way back, looking up through the sunroof, singing along to digital radio, getting all the words wrong. 

When he joins in you stop and stare at him. 

‘What?’ he asks, self-conscious. 

‘You have a pretty voice, Hawk,’ you tell him. 

It’s not the first time he’s heard it, but he likes hearing it from you. 

You put your hand on his arm, tracing along his skin. 

You’re both stripped down to your regs, plain t-shirts and pants, your helmets and g-suits, your survival kits in the backseat. 

You keep looking over at him, oohing and aahing over his tattoos. 

Jungkook holds out as long as he can, but when the sun starts to set and you’re still looking at him like you can’t stop he pulls the car over and makes love to you in the backseat. 

It’s all new still, a little awkward but Jungkook doesn’t care because he’s already decided he wants to learn all of you. 

He wants to know you, to treasure you. 

You’re sat up, holding on to his shoulders, bodies sated but still pressed against each other. 

‘Hawk,’ you say, nudging under his chin with your nose. 

Jungkook opens his eyes. ‘You’re insatiable, Kokinchan.’ 

‘It’s not that, you idiot,’ you say, although you’re giggling at him. ‘Can I drive?’ 

‘The last time you drove us, we flew into the side of a mountain and cost the government just over a mil,’ Jungkook points out.

‘You told me to!’ you say, indignant. 

Jungkook kisses your sweaty cheek, twice because he wanted more after the first one. 

You turn your head to kiss him full on the lips, slip him some tongue. 

Jungkook reaches up to pull you closer, but you’re already pulling away, pulling up those lacy panties, covering up your pretty ass that Jungkook would look at until he went blind if you let him. 

‘I want more,’ Jungkook tells you. 

You pause with your hands on your pants button. ‘Me too, Hawk.’ 

‘I’m not –’

He waits until you look at him again. 

‘I don’t just mean sex,’ Jungkook says.

You turn to face him. There’s a hesitant note in your voice. 

‘I put in a transfer request yesterday,’ you say. Your eyes search his face. ‘I’ve requested a move to 489th, under Min Yoongi.’ 

Jungkook’s surprised. ‘Were you going to tell me?’ 

‘Right after the mission,’ you say, instantly, so convincing he doesn’t doubt your honesty. 

‘It’s just easier,’ you continue. ‘I’ve worked with him before. There’s another woman in his squadron. There’s no Skua.’ 

Jungkook’s still looking at you. 

‘I don’t have to worry about the man I’m dating being put in a difficult position.’

Jungkook’s so busy thinking about your words it takes him a while to realise what you’ve said. 

‘I don’t just want to date you,’ he says, finally. 

Your smile is so bright he kisses you again. 

‘We should take it slow,’ you say, but there’s a mischievous sparkle in your eyes.

Jungkook asks, ‘When have you or I ever done that?’ 

‘There’s a first time for everything,’ you say. 

Jungkook reaches out and grabs your hand as you’re climbing out to get into the driver’s seat. 

‘We can go as slow as you want, Kokinchan.’ 

***

Jungkook hovers above the runway, having cut his speed to the point that he’s at a complete standstill in the air. 

Like this, he can barely tell he’s flying.

A flick of a button and he’s into another vertical descent. 

This time, it’s perfect. Even he can’t fault it. 

He climbs out of the cockpit and steps down onto the runway tarmac. 

He glances at his watch. He was meant to meet you for dinner tonight, he’s got enough time to pick you up some flowers before he meets you. 

At first he thinks it’s a trick of the light, but when you start walking towards him he realises it really is you. 

You’re so pretty in your dress, Jungkook stops in his tracks just to watch you. 

You stop just in front of him, shorter than usual without your boots. 

He has to lean down a little more to kiss you but he doesn’t mind. 

You roll your eyes as he takes the opportunity to squeeze your ass under the pretense of lifting you up more to reach him. 

‘Hawk,’ you chide.

‘Kokinchan,’ he teases, dragging out the syllables like you did with his callsign. 

He keeps his arm around you as you walk towards the locker rooms together. 

‘What do you want for dinner, Kokinchan?’ 

‘Can we have dessert first?’ you ask, feigning innocence, looking up at him through your lashes.

God, he loves the look of you. 

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees, readily. He leans down to kiss you again. ‘Anything you want.’ 

©hamsterclaw 2023

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #bts smut

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝙸𝙸. 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: fluff, flirting, pining, internalized negative talk | WORD COUNT: 8k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: When Miller Contracting ends up in a bind, Joel wonders if you might be the solution to their problem.

Joel overheard it somewhere near the cracker and chip aisle. He’d been here enough over the past few weeks to recognize disembodied voices of some of the staff or to see you helping Mrs. Baker load up her car time and again, the latter of which he repeatedly swore to himself wasn’t completely intentional. He told himself he just kept the same scheduled date and time with Jordan because it was easier that way. It had absolutely nothing to do with the little dopamine hit his brain got whenever he saw you or got to talk to you in passing when he came in to buy lemonade.

“No, what I’m saying is that we don’t have time for this kind of shit when somebody already called out sick for their shift,” the store manager’s voice came drifting around the corner. All the sickly sweet customer service had been drained from his tone, and Joel imagined this was what he sounded like most of the time. Your typical run of the mill asshole who acted too big for his britches and could use a swift kick in the ass to knock him down a peg or two.

“Sorry, it’s just Mrs. Baker comes every week, and she’s a really good customer. I’m sorry that Robert had to ring up a few more people on his own, but I loaded up her car as fast as I could.” There was that sweet voice he’d become way too eager to hear every week - not that he sought it out or anything. Except the kindness usually found in it had deflated into a mildly panicked rush of explanation.

“However you wanna play your ‘I’m just so sweet’ schtick is up to you, but not when we’re swamped with customers,” Jeremy snaps. “Now get over to produce and straighten it up. It’s a fucking mess over there!”

The heavy stomp of feet fades towards the opposite end of the store. Joel peers from behind the endcap and confirms his suspicions that it had indeed been you on the receiving end of that prick’s badgering. Your head was still fixed on Jeremy’s retreating form. Fists clenching and unclenching at your side. Shoulders hunched and tight, raised so high they're practically touching your ears. Then all at once your body slumps into an accepted defeat, and you let out a long, tired sigh.

“He always that much of an asshole to you?”

You whip around in comic speed, hands flying to your chest in surprise at Joel’s appearance. Your eyes had gone the size of dinner plates, and you sucked in a deep breath like you were squashing a genuine shriek of surprise.

“Oh, didn’t mean t’scare ya,” he quickly allays, taking a step back and raising an apologetic hand of surrender.

“N-No, you’re fine. I just didn’t hear you.” You shake your head and fix your face with a soft smile. “Sorry about that.”

“He talk to all the employees like that?” Joel presses again.

“Like what?”

“Like he hasn’t had his ass beat enough times to talk nice to people?”

The surprised giggle busts from your chest like a swarm of butterflies, and Joel can’t help but grin even if the response is a little different than what he’d been expecting. He chalks it up to the leftover nerves of being startled a few moments prior. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, he’s just- we’re one person short, so he just sort of gets that way sometimes when he’s stressed. Just a bad day kinda thing.”

It’s bothersome how dismissive you seem about someone talking down to you, and if that weren’t bad enough, you actually sounded like you were defending that asshole a little bit.

“S’not really a reason to give somebody a tongue lashing like that - especially not a lady.”

He clocks the tight smirk that curves your mouth. “Well, thanks for the sentiment, and I’m - again - I’m so sorry you had to overhear that. It’s definitely not the customer experience we want to offer here, and I apologize that your visit with us was impacted negatively. I assure you it won’t happen again.”

“You always apologize this much for stuff that’s not your fault?” He wouldn’t usually be so blunt, but that was at least the fourth time you’d said sorry in half as many minutes.

Your smirk fades into dust. “What?”

“S’just, I mean– he shouldn’t be talkin’ to employees like that, is all. I couldn’t imagine talkin’ to any of my crew that way. Bein’ in a bad mood ain’t much of a reason to chew somebody out like that.”

“You manage a grocery store, too?” “Besides, it doesn’t make for good business runnin’ it like that.”

You both talk over each other, and Joel lets out a soft chuckle.

“Oh, sorr–” You clamp your mouth shut before you can finish the dreaded word. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You gesture for him to continue with what he was saying.

“You didn’t interrupt. We were just talkin’ at the same time. And, uh no, can’t say I’ve got the chops to manage a grocery store, but I do alright with my construction crew. I’m a contractor.”

Recognition dawns on your face. “Oh! Right! Miller Contracting, right?”

“Joel Miller of Miller Contracting, the one and only,” he confirms with a little wink.

Christ he needed to get a grip. Settling so easily into this sort of light, flirty exchange with you might not have been a conscious choice, but the last thing he wanted was end up being another creep hitting on you in the middle of your job when you didn’t have much choice but to stand there and engage. He was sure there was no short list of men who found all sorts of stupid things to ask for help with while you were just trying to get through your shift.

That small little grin was creeping back onto your features, and he tried very hard not to stare. 

“Yeah, I didn’t recognize you without your car underneath you.”

“Well I guess we gotta work on the ‘outside the truck’ branding then.”

You glance over his shoulder to the produce section. Right. You had work to do, and he was holding you up.

“Well, uh… wish I could say I remember your name, but in all fairness I don’t think you got your name and number slapped on the side of your car for me to use as a cheat.”

“Well, I don’t think my name and number would be super visible on my bike frame, but maybe I can work out some kinda sign or something and zip tie it on there.”

You look amused, but Joel feels like an asshole. He’d seen you on a bike a million times and riding in a car approximately zero times. You probably didn’t even own a car if he had to guess. He thinks about all the unseasonable rain this past summer and wonders what you do to get to and from work on those days. Certainly not ride your bike in the pouring rain. Hopefully you caught a ride with somebody or did one of those rideshare things Sarah was always talking about.

“Oh, m’sorry abou–I didn’t mean for that to sound–”

“You always apologize for things that aren’t your fault?” Your small grin spreads into a wide smile, and Joel breathes a little sigh of relief that he hadn’t made a complete ass of himself. He’s further relieved when you refresh his memory on your name and the street you live on.

“Right. Your dad and brother live there, too. Right?”

Your face pulls tight for a second before returning to something more neutral. “That’s us,” you confirm in a brighter tone than your body language tells.

“Well, I’ll let ya get back to it.” He points his thumb behind him towards your waiting work. “It was nice talkin’ to ya. Hopefully won’t be under the same circumstances next time,” he adds with a searching glance for Jeremy.

“Yeah, definitely. It was good talking to you, Joel.” You dip your head and walk off towards produce. Joel rolls his eyes at his fumbling social skills. Since when did he get to feeling like a nervous teenager just talking to somebody in a grocery store? What was more innocuous than talking to somebody in the middle of a grocery store?

He shook his head at his awkwardness and headed to the drinks. By the time he made it back to his truck, he was going to be late no matter how many red lights he managed to avoid. Maybe he should push Jordan’s next appointment back a little next time. Just in case.

You hadn’t meant to laugh, but it came out before you could stop it. After all, Jeremy’s soft toothed bite was a drop in the bucket of what you’d lived with your entire life. Sure, you’d been a bit nervous in the moment, but that was more Pavlovian response to a man being upset with you than any actual fear being present. Jeremy was an asshole most of the time, but it didn’t grate you like it did a lot of the other employees. You suppose you could thank your father for that built in function of desensitization to acerbic men.

You’d been seeing Joel crop up on a regular basis every week now, and it had sort of become something to look forward to. He was easy on the eyes and always polite. It was nice having that sort of certainty in a shift. Today had been the most you’d talked to him since he started showing up every week. You weren’t entirely sure if he was seeking you out the way you sought him out, but it didn’t much matter as long as you got that little boost of encouragement mid shift.

He was a captivating person, making these small microexpressions you couldn’t quite pin. You’d spent your entire life tuned into the tiniest of shifts in mood or body language so you could be prepared to keep it from changing into something unpleasant. Managing the mood of the room was always how you’d looked at it. It had become a useful tool once you started working after your mom skipped town. Yet another unintended gift from your father.

You were still trying to figure out where Joel's mind had gone to after you corrected him about not having a car of your own. It almost looked like concern, but that didn’t make a lot of sense in the context of the conversation. And then he’d gone and apologized, but you weren’t sure why. You hadn’t taken any offense to his assumption that you had a car. Most people had to have a car to get hired these days because even the bus wasn’t considered “reliable transportation.” It was a giant middle finger to anybody unfortunate enough to not have the option of a personal vehicle.

Your thoughts drifted like they often did as to who that second lemonade was for. At first you’d deluded yourself into imagining that he got two for himself, but he’d just buy the bigger size if that was the case, right? It was sort of around lunchtime when he came every week, so maybe that’s when his girlfriend was available for a little work visit. Well, you assumed girlfriend. He didn’t wear a ring. Then again, he was a contractor. Sometimes they didn’t wear jewelry when they were working for safety reasons, right?

Dissatisfied with your meandering considerations, you focused your attention onto something more certain: how absolutely and insanely handsome he was, especially up close.

The whole contracting thing made perfect sense considering he was in pretty good shape for someone in his… 40s? 50s? He had enough grays sprinkled in his curly brown hair and patchy beard. He had a sort of authority about him that spoke to knowledge earned through experience while at the same time holding an air of confidence in someone who was comfortable with themselves.

He gave you the feeling that wherever he led, you’d be safe to follow. The unassuming, kind way he held conversation had you transfixed on the spot every time. There never seemed to be anything he was going after, no specific outcome or response he was seeking, and it had you chatting back and forth in an organic, instinctive sort of way that was foreign enough to make you feel out of sorts. It was rare that you were talking to someone without following the prompts or silent directions they laid out. And if carrying yourself in talk with someone without outside pressures wasn’t enough to manage, you had to force yourself to not stare at him.

The span of his shoulders was the stuff of wet dreams. They were the sort of shoulders you imagined gave rise to the phrase “weight of the world on your shoulders” because if any could support it they’d be his. His pronounced, curved nose winded down towards rounded, pink lips. His eyes crinkled whenever he smiled, and you had never thought the idea of fainting couches was actually a thing until he graced you with one of those Joel Miller smiles.

Come to think of it, the man explained a lot of idioms and metaphors that hadn’t really made much sense to you until you’d met him. A sight for sore eyes. Take your breath away. Go weak in the knees. Head over heels. You were sure there’d be more the longer you knew him. He was the sort of person who demanded something more than plain speech. He had something innately poetic and beautiful about him, and you felt yourself wanting to know as much as he’d let you know.

Whatever you’d yet to learn about him, one thing was certain: Joel Miller was a bright spot in your otherwise pathetic life.

“C’mon now, Jennifer. This is gonna put us in a hell of a spot,” Joel groans into the receiver.

Loud sniffles and a hiccup come through the other end. “I-I can’t s-s-see him! I’m already m-moving out this w-weekend. It’s over. He f-fucking broke my heart, Joel! I c-can’t d-deal with this! HE BROKE M-MY FUCK-FUCKING HEART!”

Joel scrubs a hand over his face. Jennifer had been a great secretary/sometimes personal assistant over the past seven years. He didn’t think too much of it when Corey started working for them a couple years ago and hit it off with her. It wasn’t long before he was turning a bit of a blind eye when they were getting a little too cozy in the office. It was happening more frequently as they were clearly going out of their way to see one another, but it wasn’t affecting anyone’s work so he let it slide. Besides, he didn’t want to be the grumpy boss dumping water all over the flame of young love.

About a year ago when Corey proposed, Joel and Tommy felt pretty good about their decision to not intervene on the budding relationship for the sake of professionalism or whatever else. Now, listening to Jennifer sobbing and quitting over the phone after she’d found out Corey had been cheating on her for a few months? Yeah, Joel is second guessing every time he maybe should’ve hit the brakes a little harder.

“Listen, Jennifer,” he pleads. “I know it’s fucked up, and I’m not makin’ excuses for him. I have every mind to kick his ass myself, but the thing is right now that you are the only thing keepin’ these books and calls and appointments together. If you quit right now, me ‘n Tommy are gonna be royally fucked.”

She lets out a new round of sobs, and Joel winces at his poor choice of words. “Listen, Jennifer, we can’t do this without yo–”

“I’m s-sorry, Joel, but you’re gonna h-have to,” she chokes out before the line goes dead.

Great. Perfect. The time of year when they catch up on all this shit, and now Corey had to go be a fucking moron about everything and wet his dick in someone who most definitely was not his fiance. Joel had tried calling Jennifer back multiple times to talk her into not quitting, but she shut him down every time. The only thing left to do was try to salvage what he could of everything she’d left behind. The phones were ringing way more than usual, and it took everything in Joel’s power to not find Corey every day and wring his neck for causing such a massive disruption.

Joel wasn’t a total stranger to all this stuff, but he hadn’t been in the throes of it for nearly a decade. Jennifer was at the helm for all this stuff for nearly 7 years, and Sarah had done most of the job before Jennifer came along. He'd taken it for granted, not having to worry about much of anything when it came to administrative stuff, and it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

Around the week and a half  mark since Jennifer quit, Joel had finally moved all the files and calendars into his home office. Most of the time he felt ready to light a match and not look back. His main focus was keeping payroll uninterrupted, staying on top of current project accounts, and following up with payments and client satisfaction.

He missed a weekly appointment with Jordan because of all this hubbub, which meant he also missed a week getting to see you. He’s tired and on edge now, but at least he has a chance of getting to see you. Mrs. Baker is fiddling with her trunk, and he isn’t sure if she just arrived or is on her way out. When she shuffles towards the driver’s seat, Joel safely assumes you’d already loaded up her car and headed back inside. “Hey there, Mrs. Baker,” he greets with as much warmth as he can muster.

“Hi, sweet boy,” she calls back. She frowns a little as if she can tell something is off, and she says as much to him. He explains the main points of his current predicament but makes sure to leave out all the details of the stripclubs and the hidden dating apps. “Aw, well that’s a shame,” Mrs. Baker tuts. “We’d be better off if there were more youth like the sweet girl who helps me with these groceries.”

“That I agree with ya on one hundred percent, ma’am.”

“Such a sweet girl. Reminds me so much of my granddaughter. You know, Ruthie? Sweet girl. Always so helpful and looking for ways to be helpful. Smart as a whip, too. Seems a little sad sometimes, but what do I know.” Joel isn’t sure if she means her granddaughter or you, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask. “Anyway, you take care now, and tell that brother of yours I said hello.”

Joel promises to do just that and heads into the cold store. Much to his delight, he doesn’t have to venture very far inside before he spots you. You spot him, too, and he swears you look happy to see him. “Hey there. Met the President of your Fan Club out in the parking lot again.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Mrs. Baker is the President of everybody’s Fan Club, I think.”

“Tell that to Sandra Bigsby from when we were about 6 or 7. Mrs. Baker couldn’t stand her. We didn’t much care for her, but it was always sorta funny to see an adult show so much dislike for a kid.”

“Oh, you know Mrs. Baker? Or, well, I guess you’ve known her your whole life?”

“Yeah, pretty close to. Went to the same church growin’ up. She and my folks were friendly.”

“Well that says something, doesn’t it? That she still remembers you all these years later?”

“Yeah, I s’pose it does,” Joel admits with a faint blush. “And, uh, she’s pretty vocal about how nice of a person you are and helpful as all get out, so there’s that, too. You know, if we’re talkin’ about her stamp of approval meanin’ somethin’.”

Your face softens into a bittersweet corner tug of the mouth, like you hadn’t heard anyone say they were proud of you for a very long time. “She’s a very nice lady,” is all you mumble in return.

“That she is,” he agrees. “And, uh, you know, good judge of character ‘n all.” The thought had already started formulating in Joel’s head: would you be somebody that could help with a few phone calls and appointments until he found a replacement for Jennifer? “It’s actually sorta funny that she’d be talkin’ about how helpful ‘n smart you are because I’m actually lookin’ for a bit of help with something right now.”

You pause and turn your attention to him fully, brow pinched in curiosity.

“Well, you know the whole Miller Contracting business. We’re actually in a bit of a bind at the moment with secretary type help. Had our girl quit outta the blue on us, so I’ve been tryna do my regular stuff on top of all the stuff she managed.”

“Oh no, that sounds awful. I’m so sorry.”

The sincerity in your voice made Joel’s chest feel tight. “Yeah, it’s been about two weeks now, and I’m about ready to pull my hair out to be honest with ya.”

“No, I’m sure it’s a lot to deal with.”

“Yeah, that’s sorta where I was goin’ with this,” he presses. “I wouldn’t suppose– I mean, I know you work real hard here ‘n all, but if you were lookin’ for somethin’ like some extra hours, I mean….”

You tilt your head and purse your lips. “I just work at the grocery store. I don’t have any skills for office work or anything,” you breathe in a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve never done any stuff like that, really. I don’t have any experience, I guess is what I should say.”

“I mean, yeah, some of it is using computer programs and whatnot, but a lot of it is just picking up a phone and followin’ up with clients and appointments. I’m sure you know how to use a phone.” Joel scratches the back of his neck and looks off to the right to displace some of the jittery nerves he seemed to get whenever he had to hold conversation with you.

“How do you even know I’d be helpful?” You ask this like it’s a genuine question, as if you can’t fathom a scenario in which you’d possess the capabilities to do something more than what you currently do. It makes Joel feel sad for a passing moment knowing that Mrs. Baker must’ve been talking about you and not her granddaughter Ruthie when she’d said all those things: sweet girl, always so helpful, always looking for ways to be helpful, smart as a whip, seems a little sad sometimes.

If anything, it strengthened his resolve to talk you into it. “I trust Mrs. Baker, and so do you. So, if she says I’m a nice young man or whatever, and you believe that to be true, then you also gotta accept that she vouches for you as somebody that could really help me out right now.”

Something about this seems to land with you. It occurs to Joel that asking you to place the trust in someone else’s view of you is easier than trusting your own beliefs and judgments. Seems a little sad sometimes echoes again as he watches you consider his request.

“I mean, is it–I can’t cut my hours here,” you say like you’re talking yourself through it aloud. “And I don’t have a car, so if the office is – I don’t know where the office is, so if it’s kinda far off then I wouldn’t be able to get there.”

“No no, no need to cut hours,” Joel assures. “And I actually just moved all of it to my home office so I could work on it after hours, so it ain’t too far from your house.”

“Oh?” You perk up at that. “That’s actually, yeah. That could actually work, I think.”

“And I ain’t lookin’ to short ya or anything on pay. It ain’t like a personal favor or somethin’. I would pay you right,” he rushes to explain. He was glad you didn’t think it was creepy or unprofessional he was asking you to work out of his house. You didn’t seem too put off by it at all. In fact, you seemed to have rooted in something that made you almost excited about it. The tentative hope that bubbled up in you gave him a strong urge to say or do something that would give him the opportunity to do it again. And again. And again.

“No, of course not. I know you wouldn’t do that, Joel.”

God, the way his name rolled off your tongue was like butter sliding down a hot biscuit. 

“So, you need me a couple days a week or ….?”

“Ah, well, yeah I’m willin’ to take up as much of your time as you can give me, if I’m bein’ honest.”

The easy smile that spreads across your features makes Joel feel like his brain just shut off and restarted. He blinks a few times and smiles back, a loose goofy thing he hoped didn’t make him look like too much of a dope. He gets himself together enough to exchange information with you and get a rough schedule for your help over the next couple of weeks. He apologizes in advance for his training abilities, but you just laughed it off and tell him it’ll be fine.

He had a feeling you were right.

You felt like you were flying the entire bike ride home. Not only were you going to have a secret stream of income that your father couldn’t touch, you were going to be spending more time with Joel Miller. The man who every time you talked to him it felt like you were slipping into a cozy warm bath. This type of thing was what the Kenzies of the world experienced, not you.

You tamper down your floaty feelings of happiness in case your dad was already home. The last thing you wanted was to rouse his suspicions about anything. You breathe a sigh of relief when you don't see his car in the driveway. It’s all a giddy blur getting inside and plopping down starfish onto your bed. You open your ancient slide screen phone and scroll down until you find Kenzie’s text thread.

You: how’s the job stuff going? miss u at the store :(

Kenzie: omg same :( but its going so good! ive already met so many ppl

You: I knew you’d hit it off right away typical kenzie lol

Kenzie: omg stop haha is jeremy being a tool still

You: the same so yes

Kenzie: ugh hes the worst istg

You: actually wish you’d been there the other day when he was being so loud getting on my ass that a customer overheard him

Kenzie: omg did they complain

You: no they just made sure I was okay it wasn’t like awful or anything just more awkward than anything Jeremy had always walked away

You: *already

Kenzie: was this customer a boy lol

You: no not a boy

Kenzie: aw booooo tomato tomato i thought u were gonna tell me a night in shining armor came to ur rescue

You: all I said was not a boy ;)

Kenzie: oohhhh a MAN?

You: lol yes Joel Miller

Kenzie: uuummmm mr lemonade hottie?!??!!

Kenzie: 👁️🫦👁️

You: ha ha yes

Kenzie: omg i would hav e died hes so hot

You: he was very nice :)

Kenzie: yeah ok and hot

You: I mean yeah duh

Kenzie: 💀

You: actually he offered me like a side hustle thing today

Kenzie: 👀

Kenzie: um explain pls bc that sounds kinda sus 

You: 🙄 the secretary at his contractor business quit I guess so he needs some help with phonecalls and stuff until he can hire somebody else

Kenzie: ummm he could just hire u 🤨

You: I don’t have the experience for that no way

Kenzie: u could learn in like 2 secs

You: yeah I guess we’ll find out soon

Kenzie: when do u start

You: next Tuesday

Kenzie: ok when he offers u the job pls let me be there when u quit in jeremys face bc i wanna see it 

You: yeah okay kenzie 😐

Kenzie: look at us out here becoming business professionals omg love that

You: you’re crazy lol

Kenzie: i know 💃

You laugh to yourself and let the phone slide beside you on the mattress. It felt nice to finally have something good to share with somebody.

The agonizing wait for Tuesday finally passes. You have the day off, and Joel shifted his schedule around to dedicate the entire day to showing you the ropes. You waited for your dad to leave for work and then biked over to Joel’s.

“Mornin’,” he greets warmly.

“Hey, how’s it going,” you return.

“Bit better now that I got somebody else to help with this clusterfuck.” He stills for a moment like maybe he shouldn’t be speaking to a quasi employee with such coarse language.

You wave a dismissive hand in his direction as he gestures for you to come inside. “I’m not going to tell you how to talk in your own home, Joel.”

And what a home it is. The space is muted but cozy, all earth tones like things grow and flourish here. Like the stories the walls hold are those of good times passed and good times to come. It makes your heart ache in such a distinct way, longing for something you don’t even know.

“It’s a bit of a mess, sorry,” he apologizes.

“It’s really nice here, actually.” 

He offers you coffee, which you politely decline. He shows you his makeshift setup in his home office, and you spend the first few hours together just familiarizing yourself with the basics of the operation. You listen intently, categorizing and organizing every bit of information he shares. You’re determined to prove yourself, even if this isn’t a long-term thing. You watch his eyes squint when he’s explaining something more detailed. You watch the way his large hands grip so delicately around the mug of coffee, voided pitch black and bitter for a man who conveys neither attribute himself.  You watch how his lips purse and flatten as he takes the time to explain things to you, pausing every now and then to make sure you’re understanding what he’s saying.

If watching wasn’t distracting enough, his shoulders would bump into yours every now and again when he’d lean forward to point out something on the laptop screen. His knees would knock against yours or a thigh would rub when he’d reach across you for a second to tap a few keys on the far end from him. The smell of him was intoxicating when he rested an arm along the back of your chair to lean in and explain something on the screen. It was a heady almost floral – no, citrus – sort of scent, mixed with an earthy bit of coffee and moss and woodwork.

The programs themselves seemed straightforward enough, but navigating and manipulating them was where the struggle would lie. Despite his hesitance at training you on all this, he had an amazing knack for adjusting his communication closer and closer each time to what was most comprehensible to you. It felt intimate in a way, his ability and desire to modify himself just so that it might be an easier undertaking for you.

By the time you get to lunch, you feel almost dizzy in the space with him. When he excuses himself for a minute to take a call from Tommy, you take the first deep breath you’ve had in a long time. You busy yourself with something so he doesn’t return to find you being lazy. You look over Jennifer’s physical calendar books and contacts. She has such legible, neat handwriting. Different bits of information are written in different colored inks – a sort of profiling system, you think.

At the bottom of each contact’s field on the page, there’s a small purple note. It’s always something random written there, no discernible pattern other than tidbits of personal information one might use to individualize an interaction. Factoids about a birthday or a vacation spot with a year next to it. Little snippets like do not call after 2 pm! or observes both Christmas and Hanukkah. Reminders like friends of the family and send copy to wife.

Besides all the helpful Purple Prompts – what you deemed them to yourself after reading the 6th or 7th one – the account overviews are also immaculately organized. The dread of getting anywhere near close to this level of competency starts to creep up on you and pull down. You push it away and focus again.

“Yeah, those are her handwritten things,” Joel announces as he walks through the door. “I haven’t gone over those much if I’m bein’ honest. Mostly just been tryna keep all the digital stuff goin’.”

“She’s very tidy,” you note.

“Definitely had all our ducks in a row,” he agrees. “That’s the downside, I guess, of havin’ somebody so damn good at their job. When they leave, it takes multiple people to do a poor imitation of ‘em.”

You grimace slightly at his remark, which prompts him to hastily add, “Not that you’re a poor imitation of anybody! I just meant it– you know– listen, you’re doin’ great.” He runs a hand through his hair, mussing it even more than it already was. Bits of silver catch in the light when he tilts his head. There was something so attractive about a man who wasn’t afraid to let his grays come through. Not holing himself up in the bathroom every week for 20 minutes with a bottle of Just For Men and a beer while he painted away any traces of wisdom and experience.

“Do I have somethin’ in my hair?” he worries as he runs his hand through it again. You realize you’re staring.

“Oh, no! It looks great!” you squeak out in embarrassment. “You look great. Very handsome.” Your eyes bug out in shock at the casual compliment word vomit. You turn in your chair quickly and busy yourself with the laptop. Joel just chuckles softly and settles into his chair next to you.

“Wow, brown nosin’ the boss already, huh?” he teases. “You better watch out before I start fishin’ for compliments.”

“I wasn’t–I didn’t mean to–I’m sorry,” you stutter.

“Hey now, I’m just kiddin’. It’s good for an old man like me to have his ego boosted every now and then, right?”

You snort and shake your head but keep your eyes glued to the laptop screen where you’re busy doing a whole bunch of nothing. “You’re not even old.”

“Okay, now you’re really just butterin’ me up.”

“No, I swear. You don’t look old. To me.” Your face feels like it’s a million degrees and counting.

“Oh? Can I get that in writing?” he laughs. “Would come in handy to show Sarah the next time she gives me grief for my creaky knees.”

“Oh yeah, that’s your daughter, right? The one who did all this before Jennifer?”

“That’s the one, yep,” he confirms. “Little shit gives me a hard time any chance she gets. Between her ‘n Tommy I’m tempted to say it’s borderline bullying.”

You giggle at his tellings of family and downtime and home life. It sounds nice. “Oh come on, you can’t be that old.”

A glint of amusement dances in his eyes, mouth tugging up in one corner. “Go on. Give me your best guess.”

You scoff and get a little nervous. You don’t want to offend him. Truth is, it wouldn’t matter if he was old. He was kind and sweet and drop dead gorgeous. He motions for you to wager your guess. “Um. I dunno. Um. Fourty…. three?”

He tuts and leans back as if to take in all your audacity at guessing so low. “Oh c’mon now, give me a real guess.”

“That was a real— ugh, okay. Um. I mean. I dunno, fifty six?”

“Now you’re just gettin’ wild with it,” he busts out in a deep laugh. 

You fidget your hands in your lap, fingers picking at imaginary pieces of dead skin hanging off of them. You’d never really been good at telling people’s ages, and this felt like a test you were failing somehow. “Well, I don’t know! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid.”

“Aw, don’t say that, sweetheart. You’re not stupid, not one bit. I’m just teasin’ you. I’m comin’ up on 50 in a coupla weeks, actually.”

Sweetheart. It had poured from his mouth like a thick nectar, burning a sugary halo into your ear.

“Oh, happy birthday!” you say in a way-too-breathy-to-be-appropriate voice.

He waves you off but thanks you anyway. “See, you sorta had it. Just in between the first and the second number, yeah? You weren’t too far off. No need to feel bad or anything like that. And certainly no reason to feel stupid.”

“Okay, gotcha,” you agree quickly in the hopes that he’ll stop complimenting you. 

“Besides, you’re what? Twenty… er, twenty?” he offers weakly.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at his ridiculous guess. 

“Hey now, it’s different for ladies,” he protests with an impish smile.

“I’m the ripe old age of twenty three,” you hum with a shrug. "Twenty four in a few months."

“Christ, you’re makin’ me feel ancient now. Sarah was already born by the time I was twenty three.”

“No, I think that’s just a generation thing. My parents had us young, too.” Your stomach clenches at the conversational transition to your family. If Joel notices your odd change in posture or behavior, he doesn’t say anything.

“Hm, maybe. Maybe so,” he agrees. “Well, it’s due time for a little break. You don’t have to stay in here – unless you feel more comfortable doin’ that.”

You realize you didn’t pack anything to eat. “Um, I think I’ll actually just, uh, head back home for a little bit if that’s okay. I forgot to pack anything to eat like a moron,” you huff in self-directed impatience.

“You ain’t dumb. Quit sayin’ that. It’s worse than you apologizin’ all the time,” he gently chides. “Just come on down to the kitchen with me, and I’ll make you a sandwich or somethin’.”

Your mouth hangs open for a moment in surprise at his earnest appeal for you to not tear yourself down. It was a far cry from your usual day to day. “Okay, but only if you’re sure?”

He lobs one of those devastating smiles your way. “Very sure. Let’s go.”

He hasn’t made somebody else a sandwich since Sarah was probably in her late teens. He’s overthinking it now: how do you fold the ham so it sits right? What angle does the cheese go? He assembles it in the most presentable way he can manage, but he doubts you’d have any complaints. You don’t seem like the type to complain, even if it might be warranted. Even if you might want to.

At first it just read as polite and good home training, but the more he’s around you the more he feels like it’s just a veneer. Not that you wouldn’t be kind and considerate of your own accord, but the inclination to do so feels very much forced at times, like there’s some small voice in your ear constantly dictating which move should come next. Sometimes you get flustered at some perceived wrongdoing on your part, all imagined, and Joel just hopes he isn’t unconsciously doing something to make you feel so nervous.

It’d hit him like a lead cloud when you came into his home and looked around as if it was some sort of breathtaking sanctuary. He felt the waves of immediate, riveted comfort rolling off you. And then that small smile of yours when you’d said it’s nice here, actually, the one that plays so timid on your mouth like you’ve taken a lot of nerve to speak whatever words fell from your lips. He couldn’t help but soften and drink it in. 

He tried so, so hard to not stare at you while he was trying to go over the basics of the company and its workings. Every unintentional bump or glide against you felt like a scorching surge of electricity straight through him. And your face when you were concentrating, how you’d sometimes nibble on your lower lip when you were listening really hard to something he was saying. He’d had to look away a few times when his cock started kicking against his thigh in appreciation.

But then you’d gone and done that thing again where you talk down to yourself. Sorry this, stupid that. He hoped he wasn’t making you feel that way. He wanted to see that same smile that softened your face when you’d first arrived. He kept lunchtime light on conversation, letting you take the lead on it. Turns out you’re a bit like himself in that you don’t feel the need to fill every moment of silence with something. The comfortable silence felt nice, though. It wasn't often he could just sit with somebody and enjoy solitude together. It was a different sort of peace to have that with someone.

Eventually he spoke up, though, not wanting to give an impression that he didn’t want to talk to you. You seemed more relaxed now, and it warmed his blood to think he might’ve had something to do with that. You’re agreeable, as always, when he mentions pay at first might just be an under the table situation until he figures out if he needs to - or is capable of - adding another employee to the roster. You seem perfectly fine with his cash offer. In fact, he thinks you seem to be relieved in a way. He’s not sure what to make of that, but he doesn’t spend too much time on it. Not when you’re sitting across from him smiling about something and laughing under your breath as you tell him some random little tidbit.

Every morsel feels like a feast, but you? You’ve made a glutton out of him. He might be able to drink you until he’s sick, but he doesn’t think he could ever drink enough of you to be satisfied.

You hope and pray that baking Joel a cake for his birthday isn’t too weird. Now that you’re standing in front of his door, the same door you’ve frequented over the past few weeks since you started, you sort of wish you hadn’t done a lemonade flavor cake. It felt sort of personal but in a forced way. You should’ve just went with chocolate or something and made it less pushy and awkward.

But you forget all about that when he opens the door for you and erupts into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen when he spots the confection. He grabs it up like he’s elated and eager and over the moon at your silly little gesture. Your eyes flit to where his band t-shirt flexes against the bulge of his bicep and tugs across his chest. Your eyes wander down to the curvature and fit of his jeans against his hips and thighs as you follow behind him into the kitchen. The denim clings and pulls as he bends towards the counter to set the cake down. You can feel the heat on your chest creeping up your neck.

“This is just– thank you,” he says in earnest.

You smile back at him and shrug. “Just thought I’d brown nose the boss some more, you know?”

His whole face lights up at your gentle teasing. “Well, it’s working.”

“Would it undo it if I said I didn’t want to put candles on there because I didn’t want to risk burning the house down? Fifty is a lot, you know.”

He breaks into a deep belly laugh at that. “Sarah would give you a gold star for that one.”

He grabs you up into a loose, friendly hug. Your hand shoots to his chest and snakes up in a fraction of a second. He pulls back, still smiling, and rubs your back. “Thank you. Really.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist.

You both pull away from one another and eat a slice of cake.

It’s nearly the end of the month, and Joel has a growing funny feeling lodged in his chest. Once he thought it, he couldn’t unthink it. Once it crossed his mind, it had boomeranged back and rooted itself firmly into place and exploded. You look like you belong here in his home. It melded around you as if you’d always been a part of it - were meant to be here -  and what was worse was every time you were here it felt like a missing piece had come back to fill the empty space left behind. 

He wishes he could blame it on that hug when you’d brought him cake for his birthday, when your hand grazed across his chest and left a blazing fire in its place. But, no, it had started before that, and it was only getting worse. He listens to you now taking on a sometimes alright sometimes difficult client. They were behind schedule on starting a project for him. He was a repeat customer, but he was no nonsense about things.

“No, of course, Mr. Dillard. And I hate that all this is going on when I know it’s probably a tough time for you, too,” you say softly into the landline in his home office.

There’s some gruff sound on the other end.

“Oh, I apologize. I just– Joel had mentioned about Duke passing last year, and I know the first anniversary of something like that can be so difficult.”

Joel’s head cocks to attention at that. He hadn’t said any such thing. He leans in closer to listen to whatever it is that you’re concocting. There’s a long pause and then softer speaking.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have said anything– Oh– no, right —”

Another pause and a muted voice. You nod your head and purse your lips in agreement and faux understanding even though Mr. Dillard can’t see it.

“He mentioned it when I told him you were on my list of clients to call next. He has a memory I would kill for, I swear. And he’s always had a soft spot for dogs– oh my god, don’t tell him I said that, though. He might kill me if I’m going around telling everyone he loves fluffy puppies,” you giggle.

He hears what sounds like gentle laughter over the receiver before more unintelligible comments.

“No, and we appreciate how wonderful everyone is being about it. We’ve certainly been trying to put on a brave face, you know. She feels terrible about having to exit like that, but we keep telling her she absolutely should be focused on her health right now.”

More garbled conversation on the other end.

“Well I’m not at liberty to say, but I cannot express how much that means to us that you’re asking after her. I just know she appreciates all the support with how fast everything happened. Yeah. MMmhhhmmm. Yes, your thoughts and prayers mean so much to us, and I will definitely let her know that you are thinking about her.” 

Joel’s jaw would’ve been on the floor if possible. Mr. Dillard was okay for the most part, but god could he be a jerk if you caught him in the wrong mood. Here you were pulling some story outta your ass that had him doing a 180º and asking after Jennifer’s health after her brisk departure.

“Okay, now. I’ll be back in touch very soon, Mr. Dillard. Alright. You take care now. Buh-bye.”

You set the receiver down and scribble a few quick notes in purple ink. He doesn’t remember when he’d bought a purple pen. Had you bought that to just keep up with Jennifer’s established system?

“You’re amazing,” he laughs – an incredulous tone.

You knock him out with one of those bright smiles of yours.

tagging a few people who showed interest (lmk if you wanna be removed):

@witchy-and-persnickity @sheepdogchick3 @tuquoquebrute @ellenmunn @akah565 @goodwithcheese @koshkaj-blog @umnitsa @ellenmunn @jupiter-soups @pastelnap @fadajnaoqkzalq @confusedpuffin @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @cumberpegg @witchy-and-persnickity @persephone-girl @lovelyjess69 @verybigvag @nutterbitter @sunshinehaze1 @tuquoquebrute @beelzebeth87

#fic: chrysalism #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller fluff

[rhoorl]

Working Title | Chapter 13

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Belle

Rating: Mature, 18+, for the love of all things please don’t engage if you are a minor ok? 

Word Count: ~8k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 13 on AO3

Chapter Summary: We are back on set. Dieter also completes the second half of his photoshoot/interview. 

Chapter Warnings: There’s some anxiety and angst in this chapter as well as allusions to intimacy issues. 

A/N: I really struggled with this chapter for some reason, especially the end. I even employed Mr. Rhoorl to read parts of it. But with that being said, it is largely unbeta’d so any and all mistakes are on me even though I re-read this thing too many times. 

You wake up a bit startled, realizing you had been too blissed out the night before to set an alarm. A glance at the clock makes you breathe a sigh of relief seeing it’s only 3 a.m.

Oh, thank God. Still have one more hour.

You turn back around to see Dieter fast asleep facing you. He looks so peaceful and it takes everything in you to resist the urge to thread your fingers through his hair and twirl his curls or kiss the little bare patch in his beard.

Images of what happened mere hours ago start to replay in your mind which makes you squirm, forcing you to press your thighs together to get some relief. You're trying hard to not wake Dieter up, but he must have sensed your rustling. He drapes his arm over your midsection, running his thumb up and down your back. His eyes are still closed but you can see the corners of his mouth turn up, so you shuffle a little closer to him. 

“Hey,” his voice is raspy with sleep.

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whisper.

He opens his eyes and looks at you, bringing you in for a kiss. “It’s ok…shit! What time is it? Are you late?” He moves to get up but you push him back down.

“All good. I didn’t set an alarm ... my body just knows,” you laugh.

His hand moves down to cup and squeeze your ass, making you giggle. “So, how much time do we have before you have to leave?”

“Hmm…let’s see,” you turn your head to look at the clock. “A little less than an hour.” You grab your phone to double-check that you didn’t get a last-minute message from Meredith telling you to come in earlier. You did, however, catch a text from Indy. All she sent was a gif of the Minions celebrating and shouting, which makes you laugh.

“What is it?” Dieter comes up behind you, playing the role of big spoon as he nuzzles your neck.

“I think Indy may have heard us last night,” you giggle.

“Good,” you can practically hear his smirk as he kisses your neck.

You both lay there and cuddle for a bit, basking in the heat radiating off of Dieter's body while you trace the outline of the triangle tattoo on his forearm.

“You are like a furnace.”

“Well, you’re an icicle,” he laughs. “Glad I’m around to warm you up, but this thing is kind of hindering my skin-on-skin contact,” he tugs at the bottom of your top.

You turn your head to look at him and roll your eyes playfully as you take your top off, thankful that the bed sheets were providing some cover. He presses up even closer to you, your back feeling his firm chest as he breathes. 

The hand resting on your stomach moves up to cup one of your breasts, slowly teasing your nipple as he starts to kiss the spot under your ear he recently discovered was very sensitive. You whimper and feel his cock twitch and get harder.

You wanted nothing more than to abandon all your insecurities and tell him to fuck you. But there was still something holding you back. It seemed silly really when you were pressed up against each other half-naked, having already shared some intimate moments. But deep down, you were scared to give him all of you. You were trying to live in the moment and not think ahead, but is there something here or is this just a fling? You don’t know how you’d deal with the latter since you were already developing feelings for Dieter you’ve never felt before.

Ever the sweetheart, Dieter doesn’t initiate anything further without checking in with you. He sees your face scrunched in thought.

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” He kisses your temple.

“Sorry…I…” you move so your back is flat against the bed and look up at him. “I want to…do more with you, but I just…”

“Belle,” he says with a bit firmer of a tone than you’ve heard from him. He sits up, the covers pooling around his waist. “Baby, we don’t have to jump into anything right away. I don’t want you to stress out thinking you, we, have to do things in a certain…sequence. Do…do you wanna have sex with me? Sometime?” he looks nervous as he asks, rubbing the back of his neck. You nod and his face softens. “Good, cuz I wanna have sex with you, I think about it quite a lot actually,” he chuckles, coming back down next to you cupping the side of your face as you turn to him. “But I want you to be comfortable with it, to be comfortable with me…”

“I’m comfortable with you, it’s honestly not you at all, it’s…me…”

He stops you before you start to ramble and kisses you. You spend a few minutes making out, trying to let your bodies express what words couldn’t. Suddenly he pauses and looks up at the clock, quickly getting out of bed to grab his shorts, pulling them on low across his hips.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back… stay here,” he smiles, giving the top of your head a peck as he scampers out of the room.

You fall back into your pillows, smiling as you watch him walk out and close the door most of the way behind him. After a few moments, you decide to get up, grab your robe, and head to the closet to pick out your clothes. It was going to be a pretty long day on set, so you needed something comfortable. You were going to be splitting your time between Indy and Sam who were simultaneously shooting scenes with separate crews. In the morning, Indy had an action scene and Sam had a walk and talk with Dieter.

Dieter didn’t want a morning to go by without the little routine you both had developed, so he rushed over to the kitchen to make some coffee. 

As the coffee brews, he busies himself with finding two coffee mugs and a box of cookies. Behind him, he hears someone clear their throat. Spinning around he's met with Sam’s sleepy frame and messy hair as he rubs his eyes. The two men, both wearing just shorts, smirked at each other, clearly satisfied from the previous night.

“Hey, D”

“Hey man, wasn’t expecting to see anyone else up, much less you,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, well, I got a pretty convincing reason to come over last night and one thing led to another….same for you?”

“You can say that,” he winks at Sam. “These two seem to be trouble if they’re left alone.” 

Both men laugh and then silently get to work fixing coffee for their respective ladies. Sam knew just how many sugar packets to grab and poured exactly the right amount of cream into Indy’s cup. Dieter tucks a box of cookies under his arm and walks back to your room, careful to not spill any coffee. He softly kicks open the door and sees the bathroom light on. 

You hear him and come around the corner in your robe, your face lighting up when you see Dieter carrying coffee and some cookies. The domesticity of this small moment wasn’t lost on either of you. The whole morning so far seemed so natural, easy, and familiar.

“You made me coffee?” You grin from ear to ear, bouncing over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him.

“We have to start the morning off right,” he winks as you take the coffee cup from him. 

“This was really sweet, thank you. I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick and then I’ll be out.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn't know. This is gonna get cold,” he nods to the cup.

“No, it’s ok,” you call from the bathroom as you turn the rainfall shower head on. “I’ll only be a minute since I'm not washing my hair!”

Dieter tries to think of something, anything, that isn’t the image of Belle naked in the shower. All he wanted was to barge in there and have his way with her, but he refrained. He wanted nothing more than for her to feel comfortable and safe around him, so he tried to be respectful even though his dick betrayed him nearly every step of the way.

Belle was true to her words and within minutes he heard the water stop and the shower door open, presumably for her to get a towel. 

Looking won’t hurt anything, right?

His feet take over as he makes his way to the bathroom, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe just as she wraps the towel around herself, startling her a bit.

“Hi!” She tugs the towel a little tighter to tuck it in.

“Your coffee,” he smirks as he hands the lukewarm cup back over to her. “You sure you don’t want me to go heat it up for you?”

She rolls her eyes and takes a sip, “I’m fine. I’m used to drinking tepid coffee, I’ve actually grown quite fond of it. We don’t all have assistants who bring us hot cups of coffee whenever we want,” she smiles.

He sits on the side of the tub, watching her get ready as they talk about their schedules for the day. He’s in awe of her, how she retains so much information, and yet he has to rely on Danny and his phone to tell him where to go next. 

“What time is your interview today?” she asks him as she finishes up the last of her coffee, coming to stand in between his legs and play with his hair as he hands her a cookie.  “Should be after my first scene," he wraps his arms around her waist, hands resting on her ass. "Sounds like I’m gonna need to change real quick so Rob can get one more shot and then I’m chatting with Maria over lunch.”

“Nice!”

“Are you gonna be able to stop by?”

"You want me to?"

"Of course, I do, baby," his hands trail down her body to where the towel ends and start to creep up, making Belle giggle.

“I’ll try…shit, I gotta get dressed!”

In her rush to get dressed, she dropped her towel onto the bed and started to rummage through a drawer. Dieter's eyes roam every inch of her as he bites his bottom lip, remembering how she tasted and craving it again. He watches her put her bra on followed by her underwear, which he wants to take off with his teeth.

“Dieter?”

He snaps out of his trance, walking towards her, “Hmm?”

She smirks at him as she throws a dress over her head. “You seem distracted,” she teases.

“I wonder why that is hmm?” he wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her. "Especially since I'm gonna have to go the rest of the day knowing what's under your dress." He deepens the kiss as her hands thread through his hair, something he cannot get enough of. 

An alarm from Belle's phone goes off.

“Guess, that’s my cue to go,” she pouts, twirling one of his curls along the nape of his neck.

“I should probably head out, I don’t want another awkward run-in with Sam,” he says as he throws his sweatshirt on. 

“Wait, Sam is here?!” She whispers as the two head out of the room.

They stop in the living room, hearing a gasp followed by a moan coming from down the hallway, and cover their mouths to stifle their laughter. Neither of them says a word until they're safely in the hallway.

"Well, looks like there are going to be four satisfied people on set today," he teases as they slowly walk down the hall, holding her hand. He was in no rush to get back to his room and away from Belle.

"Satisfied, huh?" 

He grabs her by the waist. "Mhmm, very. And I'm hoping that becomes…a…regular thing," he says between kisses.

"Yea? It was ok?"

Dieter steps back and playfully rolls his eyes and cradles her face with both hands. "Having my dick inside your mouth? Going down on you? Yeah, I’d say that was more than okay." They both laugh. "But seriously, baby, I lo- …ah…loved how you…ah…took some initiative, it was so hot. But my favorite part was that I got to wake up to you."

Belle pushes up on her tiptoes to kiss him, before moving to whisper in his ear, "Then we'll have to do it again." His breath hitched as she palm his dick through his shorts. "And I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a tease, but if I don't leave now Mare will be so mad."

"And we don't want that," he smirks. "I'll see you soon, baby."

And with one more passionate kiss, Belle makes her way down the hall to the elevator. She gives Dieter a little wave as the door closes and he rests his head against the wall to catch his breath.

Walking through the trailer you are greeted by Meredith and Brianna, the latter of which is dutifully prepping your station.

"Hey! How was yesterday?" Brianna looks over excitedly.

"It was awesome, Dieter looked great, with or without me,” you laugh. “And the place we went was beautiful, I want to go back there sometime," you smile before looking over at Meredith. "Thanks so much for letting me go, Mare. How were things around here?"

"Don't mention it, you did me a favor," she winks. "Things were quiet, only a few scenes. Today is gonna be a doozy though."

The three of you make quick work of prepping as the other stylists file in and get their stations ready. There's an excited buzz in the air.

Before the first call times, Meredith gathers everyone for a quick huddle to discuss the day since the crew was going to be split up. Right as she was ready to wrap up she made one final announcement.

"Ok, so at the end of the week, the resort is putting on a special luau for us all. Production is also taking the following day off so you can all let loose, unwind, and get a long weekend."

Excited murmurs fill up the trailer as everyone starts talking about what they're going to wear and their plans for their unexpected extra day off.

Indy is the first of the principal actors to come into the trailer that day and she was absolutely glowing. She was also carrying an iced coffee so you knew she had a good night and was in a great mood.

“Oh hey B,” she winks at you, sitting in your chair and pulling her hair out of her clip so you can start to brush it.

“Why hello sunshine, did you have a good start to your day?” you smirk at her in the mirror.

“Absolutely divine. And I'm betting you did too,” she smiles back.

With Brianna doing her skin prep, you start to work on her hair, putting in loose waves with a curling wand. You are just about done when you hear the door open and you know it was Dieter without seeing him. The atmosphere changed and your stomach got instant butterflies. You are in your own little world as you turn to look at him, not realizing that your hand is about to touch the hot barrel of the curling wand.

“Ah fuck!” you pull back, quickly unraveling Indy’s hair from the wand. 

Indy turns around, “Babe are you ok?” She gets up and grabs her iced coffee, putting it to your hand. The coolness is a welcome relief.

“Shit bab-,” Dieter clears his throat, “Belle. Are you ok?” He lightly touches your shoulder, trying to look at your hand.

“Bravo, you’re here less than a minute and you're already distracting your girl,” Meredith smirks, playfully slapping Dieter on the chest.

Dieter straightens up and removes his hand from your shoulder, running it through his curls while blushing. Neither of you knows what to say and it feels like all eyes are on you. Before either of you can say anything, Aubrey walks through the door.

“Hey Mare, do you have a sec? Oh Dieter, perfect, wanted to talk to you too.”

The three of them go over to Meredith’s station to talk through Dieter’s look for the photo shoot and how they want to style him for the scenes today.

“Psst, you ok?” Indy whispers to you as you return to her hair and Brianna finishes up her makeup. 

“Yea, I’m gonna need a Band-Aid or something, fuck this thing is gonna hurt later.”

“Did you and Dieter have the conversation? Are you his girlf- ow!”

You pull on her hair slightly to catch her eyes in the mirror, looking over at Brianna who is busying herself with cleaning off some brushes and pretending to not overhear your conversation.

“Can we talk about this later? I’m interested in your night too.”

“You got it, babe,” she winks, getting up and moving to the mirror to give herself one final look. “Amazing as always, I like what you did to my eyebrows Bri!”

The girl smiles and gives Indy a sheepish thanks. 

As Indy steps around your chair to leave, Aubrey walks by. The two of them stare each other down, Aubrey giving a fake smile before she leaves, never having acknowledged you or anyone else in the trailer.

“She’s going to end up getting pushed into a pool, mark my fucking words,” Indy mutters to you as Brianna snorts.

Sam walks in as Indy is leaving, the two sharing a quick kiss before Indy heads to wardrobe.

“Hey doll, how’re you? What’s up D?” he calls over to Dieter who gives him a small nod as Meredith attempts to trim his mustache.

You make quick work of Sam’s hair, slicking it back in a neater style than what he normally wears. Just as you are finishing up, Dieter walks by giving your waist a squeeze and a wink in the mirror as he walks out.

“Things going well? He treatin’ ya ok?” You understand why Indy is obsessed with Sam’s low, Southern drawl. It's so soothing.

“He is, Sam. Very much.”

“Oh well, I have no doubt.” he winks. “I don’t wanna embarrass you darlin’, I didn’t hear anything. Now Indy on the other hand…” he chuckles. “But seriously, he does anything out of line you let me know ok?”

You smile, “I will Sam. You’re a sweetheart, you know that?” Your stomach grumbles loudly.

“I save it all for you. Hey, have you eaten today?”

You smack your hand to your head, “fuck, no. I got busy.”

“Well, when you’re done we’re going to craft services.”

You roll your eyes playfully at him in the mirror and make the last finishing touches. “Ok done, please try and not mess with your hair too much.”

“I got it, I’ll try.”

“Hey Mare, I’m gonna go grab something real quick to eat if that’s cool?” She nods over to you. “Bri you good? Wanna come?”

“Oh no, I’m good, I’ll get your on-set kit ready and I’ll bring it to you.”

“You rock, I’ll see you out there.”

Craft services had an impressive spread of goodies ranging from grab-and-go items to sandwiches to a tropical fruit display. You and Sam walk up and down to see all of the choices and he greets the woman standing behind one of the tables. She’s petite but sturdy with a sweet face. 

“Kalani, this all looks amazing! Have you met my friend Belle? She’s Indy’s best friend.”

“Hi dear, nice to meet you,” she shakes your hand. “Sam is over here quite a lot so we’ve become fast friends,” she winks.

“She’s the bodyguard for all of the delicious snacks. Do you have those…um, what were they called again?”

The woman chuckles, “Masaladas, Sam. And here, I saved a few for you. Those stuntmen were going to take them all!”

“Ah, I love you! Have you had one of these before?” He points to a small plate with little fried dough pieces.

“No, I can’t say I have, what are they?”

“Oh I made them myself,” Kalani says proudly. “They’re like a donut, I’d say. There are some plain ones, but I saved a couple of the filled ones for Sam.”

“Well, which one is your favorite? That’s the one I want to try first,” you smile at her.

“Ah, I’m a little biased because I think they’re all great,” she giggles. “But, I think the haupia-filled ones are good to start with.” She picks up one of the fluffy treats with a napkin and hands it to you, eager for you to take a bite.

“Ooo ok. I was going to ask you what’s in it, but I’m just going to go for it,” you wink. Sam grabs two and starts digging in. Sinking your teeth in, you are greeted by a rich, smooth, velvety custard that has hints of coconut. It’s not too sweet and you wish you had a coffee. “Oh my goodness,” you were relishing the delicious flavor. “This is like one of the best things I’ve ever had.”

“What’s that?” you hear a low voice behind you and you instantly feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up. 

“Um, these are … I’m so sorry, what are they again?” You look to Kalani to bail you out since you were rendered a bit speechless at the sight of Dieter. 

He was dressed for his scene with Sam — black slacks and a crisp white button down, the shirt was holding on for dear life as it spanned his broad shoulders. He had a black tie with green and gold stripes and the top button of his shirt was undone. What really threw you for a loop was the gun holster he was wearing along with the handcuffs hanging from his belt which made you gulp.

“Masaladas. They’re like a donut, very popular here on the islands. I made them myself.”

“Oh nice, well then I definitely have to try one,” he smiles as the woman blushes. He grabs one from her and starts to eat it, your eyes trying to avoid staring at his mouth but he doesn’t help things when he wipes his thumb on his bottom lip catching some crumbs. “Wow, these are amazing!”

“What’re those? Donuts?” you hear Aubrey behind you, rolling your eyes as you keep your back to her. 

You glance over and see her holding Dieter’s suit jacket in her hand. 

“They’re very similar to donuts,” Kalani had a more pointed tone with her.

“Oh well, none for me! Gotta keep in bikini shape. We should go check out the beach sometime, Dee,” she touches his arm.

You ball your fist, your fingernails digging into your hand, no doubt leaving a mark. Aubrey is deliberately trying to fuck with you and all you want to do is dropkick her right there. 

Dieter gives her a confused look and shakes his head, moving to wrap his arm around your waist. 

“Belle, I think I could use a touch-up. Think you could take care of that for me?"

Aubrey huffs away towards the set as Sam stifles a laugh.

“She’s…what’s the word Indy used? Oh yeah, thirsty.” Sam smirks as you all laugh. 

The scene between the boys was over relatively quickly, they only needed a few takes. Once they wrap the scene you collect your things and start making your way to Indy and the team on the other set.

“Hey Belle, wait up,” you hear Dieter’s voice behind you as he rushes to catch up to you.

“Hey, you did great,” you smile as he rests one hand on your hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb. 

“Thanks, baby. How’s your hand?” He lifts it up to inspect it, kissing your palm.

“It’s ok, I’ve honestly done worse,” you laugh, feeling warm at how tenderly his lips touch your skin.

“You headed over to see Indy now?”

“Yeah, I’ll try and make it back, we’ll have to see how it goes.”

“I get it, I just want to do something before you go,” he leans down and kisses you. 

You blush and tuck some hair behind your ear, before clearing your throat and looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You’re making it hard to walk away right now.”

“Good. I wish we had more time so you could, uh…come and see my trailer.”

“See your trailer, huh?” He puts his other hand at your waist, bringing you in closer. “Now why would I need to do that?” You smirk, basking in this public, flirty banter.

He leans down and whispers in your ear, “Don’t start something you can’t finish baby, I may have to haul you over there and show you.”

The gravel in his voice has you practically dripping as you feel his hot breath on your ear. 

Pulling slightly on his tie, you lean in and whisper in his ear, “You are a menace, Mr. Bravo,” before turning on your heel and walking away, leaving him licking his bottom lip as he watches you head to the other set.

Indy was mid-conversation with the stunt coordinator Jay when you walked up. She seemed a bit upset, so you were on high alert.

“Well, just do it the way I said and you won’t get hurt,” Jay says before he walks away, throwing his arms in the air.

Turning to watch him leave you look back at Indy who has her arms crossed in front of her chest, chewing on her nail. “What the fuck is his problem?”

“He’s a diva. We practiced this choreography for weeks and now he’s changing all of it last minute. I’m nervous I’m going to fuck it up.” Indy moves to chewing on her bottom lip as you hand her the fidget spinner you always keep in your bag.

“These stunt guys are pros, I know you’re in good hands, Ind!”

The first couple of takes are a bit rough, but once Indy gets the hang of it she really gets into character. You are amazed at how she can compartmentalize her anxiety and become an entirely different person.

Buzz

You look down at your phone, smiling when you see a message from Dieter.

Dieter: I need your help with something. And it’s legit too I’m not trying to be horny.

You smirk, wondering what this could be about.

Belle: I’m intrigued…

Dieter: Should I wear my glasses for the shoot? Would it make me look too old?

He sent you a selfie, one eyebrow raised, the opposite eye squinted closed as he purses his lips. Even though it’s a goofy photo he still looks so cute. He had on a pair of glasses with thick black frames.

Belle: No! I think you look cute 😘

Dieter: Cute? 

Belle: Ok, well I was going to use a different word

Dieter: Now I’m the one who is intrigued…

Belle: I like it when you wear your glasses.

Dieter: What do you like about it?

You shake your head, smiling at your phone. 

“Hey! Hey, earth to makeup, can we get some touch-ups?” One of the production guys snaps his fingers at you to get your attention. 

You cut your eyes to him and don’t say anything as you take your time walking over to Indy.

“That guy’s a real fuckwad. What’s with this crew, they are no fun.” Indy whispers as you take a blotting sheet to her forehead and follow it up with some powder.

“Yeah, I know. Typical though, you know how it is.”

You both give each other a knowing look before you walk out of frame.

Indy wraps up her scene and heads back to the main set area with you. She’s done for the day and is going to tag along to watch Dieter’s photoshoot. 

As you walk up to where Rob is getting set up you see Dieter getting touched up by Meredith while Aubrey finishes steaming his jacket. Seeing him almost takes your breath away. His hair was exquisitely coiffed in a cascade of messy curls which still managed to have some structure. There was order in the disorder of what Meredith created and it was beautiful. He had on a pair of dark wash jeans, black boots, a simple white t-shirt, and the glasses from the selfie he sent you. 

He was laughing and talking to Meredith when his eyes drifted over, seeing you. The smile he gave you made the butterflies return. You have to pinch yourself a bit that he is even real and that he is looking at you in this way. When you think of him, you have feelings you haven't ever felt about a man. 

Do I lo-, no stop it, it’s been like less than a week.

The sweet feelings are suddenly replaced with lust as your eyes trail down to see the way his hand grips his cell phone. You remember the way his hands roamed over your body last night, the combination of tender care and a little possessiveness. You don’t even realize that you’re looking at him and biting your lip as he looks you up and down. 

“Psst, cool it with the eye fucking,” Indy whispers.

You clear your throat and straighten up, smoothing your dress to try and find something to do with your hands. Dieter smirks at your flustered state and returns to talking to Meredith. When she gets the last of her final touches done she steps back from him so Aubrey can hand him his jacket. She takes a lint roller to his jacket once it’s on, finding your eyes as she moves the roller along his broad shoulders.

“We good to get started? Didn’t realize we were going to have such a crowd,” Rob snickers, looking over at you and Indy.

“I think we’re all good,” you hear someone say behind you, turning to see Liz giving Rob a tight-lipped smile. “Hey girls,” she turns to you both and smiles.

“Hi Liz, w-we can go. I just wanted to see what Meredith decided to do, and I-”

“It’s totally fine for you to be here,” Liz cuts you off. “Don’t let him,” she nods to Rob, “let you think you shouldn’t be here. Dee wants you here. Plus, he seems to be a lot calmer and relaxed when you’re around so for my sanity I would like you here,” she laughs. 

Meredith, Aubrey, and Danny join you all as you stand behind a set of monitors. Dieter is alone in front of Rob, two large lights keep flashing on either side of him. He goes through a variety of simple poses, putting his hands in his pockets, crossing his arms, and looking at the camera head-on. He laughs for some shots and is serious in others. You could see some of the initial proofs on the monitor and you don’t envy Rob for having to choose which shot to ultimately go with. Dieter looks so handsome in them all.

The day was starting to catch up with you and you realized it’s been a while since you’ve gone to the bathroom and you were about to burst. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go pee, I’ll be right back,” you whisper to Indy who gives you a nod.

As you walk out of the restroom you nearly collide with someone.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see yo-...Oh, hi! You’re Belle?” 

It was Maria, the reporter you saw at yesterday’s shoot. You introduce yourself with your real name, “Belle is just a nickname,” you laugh. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet Dieter’s latest flavor of the week,” she knocks your shoulder with hers as you both walk back to set.

“W-what?” you furrow your brow, a bit confused at what she’s implying.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure you’ve followed his career over the years dear … never really sticking with one thing too long, even his sobriety,” she says lower so the others can’t hear. "Are you two exclusive? That's not usually how he rolls, you know."

“I. Uh, I…”

“Hey, Maria. Can I help you with something?” Liz cuts in, giving you an apologetic look and ushering Maria away.

“You ok?” Indy is by your side quickly and you recount the quick, but bizarre encounter. “Well, she can get a one-way ticket to Fuck Off Mountain. I see the way he looks at you, the way you look at him. This isn’t a temporary thing.”

Suddenly this sense of panic starts to wash over you. Were you really just a temporary thing? What if you weren’t enough for Dieter, or what he really wanted? You were so different from what his “type” had been over the years. What if this didn’t work out? What even is this between the two of you?

It was becoming harder and harder to breathe, you felt like you couldn’t take a full breath which makes you even more anxious. You want to sprint away, hide, scream, and cry all at the same time. 

Dieter was still in front of the camera, but you know he would be able to read your face if he caught a glimpse of you, so you have to leave.

“I need to get out of here,” you whisper to Indy.

She takes one look at you and grabs you by the arm, “C’mon, let’s go to my trailer, get you some water. Have you eaten today?”

You shake your head, “I had a malasada earlier with Sam but that’s it.”

Indy sighs and rubs your back as you both quickly walk to her trailer. She pulls out her phone with her other hand and sends a voice note to Ari to bring some lunch to her trailer.

“The malasada you had, tell me about it, how’d it taste? It’s what Kalani brings, right?”

You know what Indy is doing, trying to take your mind off of things and focus on something else. The panic stays at bay as you humor her and talk through the textures and flavors of the treat.

The two of you reach her trailer, a place of safety where you finally let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. Indy doesn’t say anything as you sit on the bed, your elbows on your knees as you breathe.

“What if I’m not good enough,” you finally whisper.

“Excuse me?” you look up to see Indy staring at you dumbfounded. “B, you know I love you and I’ll support you through whatever but sometimes you need some tough love,” she crouches down in front of you. “How could you say you aren’t good enough?”

“Well, I don’t have a great track record,” you mutter, starting at the floor. 

“Dieter isn’t Ryan. Don’t do this self-sabotage shit, you know it doesn’t go well. Besides what Ryan did to you all of those years, it had nothing to do with you. That was all him.” 

You sigh, knowing she’s right. 

Dieter felt like he was on top of the world having his girl there to watch him. Although he wasn’t as vain as other actors, he still knew he looked good, especially today. He made a mental note to tell Meredith to do his hair like this again sometime after he saw the way Belle’s eyes widened at the sight of him.

Flash. Snap. Flash. Snap. 

The lights are blinding. Everyone huddled by the monitor looks like one big blob, but he can still pick out Belle among them.

“Ok Dee, let’s try a few this way,” Rob directs him in a few different poses.

Flash. Snap. Flash. Snap. 

“Looking great, Dee, a few this way. Gimme that look you know makes the panties drop,” Rob laughs.

Flash. Snap. Flash. Snap. 

Dieter looks over and can’t immediately pick out Belle anymore.

Flash. Snap. Flash. Snap. 

Rob goes through some standard poses and Dieter obliges.

“Alright, I think we’re good for now. Good job man,” he reaches out to shake Dieter’s hand.

“Thanks, good working with you Rob,” Dieter gives a polite but stiff smile. 

Aubrey swoops in to grab the jacket off of Dieter before he stops her and does it himself. “Great job, Dee. These photos are going to be so hot,” she winks.

“Thanks,” he looks past her and realizes that Belle and Indy are both gone. Assuming she had to go get Indy ready for another scene, Dieter calms down a bit.

“I need to talk to you,” Liz bounces over, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to a corner.

“I know I look good, Liz, but now’s not the time,” he smirks.

She rolls her eyes. “Seriously Dee, it’s about Belle.” He immediately straightens up. “She’s ok, well, physically I think…I guess…I.” She stops and takes a deep breath to collect herself. “I’m pretty sure Maria intercepted her on the way back from the bathroom. Now, I have no idea what the fuck she told Belle, but she came back white as a ghost.”

“Fuuuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, where is she?” Dieter pulls out his phone, firing off a text. “What the fuck, Lizzie. What could Maria have possibly said.”

“I don’t know, but we have to be on high alert right now while we go to the interview. I feel like she’s going to drop some bullshit question on you. So just, try and breathe and not fly off the handle, ok?”

Dieter drops his chin, looking up at Liz with a skeptical look. “You and I both know that’s not going to happen.”

The interview with Maria was a bit tense. Dieter wasn’t being rude, or at least as rude as Liz knew he could be, but he wasn’t his usual warm, affable self. Maria sensed his shift in demeanor and kept her questions very high level about the show and even asked about Indy and Sam. Liz held her breath each time Maria opened her mouth to ask a question, nervous about the direction she would go in.

“Ok, so we’re just about done, I hope I can ask a couple of more questions…off the record.” She switches off her recorder and closes her notebook.

Dieter furrows his brow, “What, do I know some classified information or something?” He chuckles looking over to Liz who sat up in her seat.

“Ha, funny. No, I believe you’re coming up on five years in your latest sobriety journey. How does that feel?”

“Oh ah, good. I’m not proud of a lot of things I’ve done in my life, but this is something I’m proud of. I feel a lot…clearer, more honest in my interactions with people.”

“Do you think it’ll stick this time?”

Dieter is taken aback, cocking his head to the side and before he can retort, Liz jumps to his aid, “What the fuck, Maria. What kind of question is that? I think we’re done here, Dee.” She motions for him to stand up as he sits frozen in his seat staring off into the distance.

“Just curious, I know your fans are proud of you Dieter. I would hate for anything or anyone to knock you off your path is all.”

“What are you getting at?” he hisses through clenched teeth, trying his hardest to not lose his shit as he feels Liz’s hand on his shoulder.

Maria holds up her hands in surrender, “Oh nothing Dieter. Just, you seem really smitten with that young lady…the makeup artist? Does she know about your past? Would be a shame for her to get spooked and want to run is all.”

“She’s none of your business,” he points a finger at her but still keeps his tone eerily calm. “We’re done here.” He looks directly at Liz and turns on his heel, grabbing his phone.

“Thank you, Ari,” you manage a smile as you sip on some soup she brought.

When Ari received a voice note from Indy to bring some lunch she wasn’t quite sure what to do so she brought a variety of items along. You didn’t have much of an appetite, you could go long periods without eating. But, you decided to humor Indy since she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soup seemed like the easiest option since it required the least amount of effort to eat.

“Your phone is blowing up.”

“Oh shit.” You open up your phone to see a couple of missed calls from Dieter along with a series of texts from him growing more and more frantic as you didn’t respond.

You hear three quick knocks on the door to Indy’s trailer. She gets up to open it, “Hey Dee, yeah she’s back here.” 

Indy moves aside to let Dieter walk into the trailer and he’s crouching down in front of you within seconds, his hands cupping your face. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you,” he tries to smile, but he looks panicked, almost scared to see your reaction.

“Hey, s-sorry I left I-”

“Hey Ari, why don’t we wait outside,” Indy interrupts to give you and Dieter some privacy. 

You look up to see Indy give you an encouraging smile as she closes the door. You turn to look at Dieter as his big brown puppy dog eyes scan your face. 

“I’m sorry I left baby, I, I got … I felt like I was having a panic attack and I don’t know why,” you look up and see his face soften at the term of endearment you used. “I hadn’t really eaten today so that never really helps my mood and then … I don’t know it was a quick spiral.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” he rubs his thumb along your cheekbone, which you lean into. “Did Maria say something out of line? I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Dieter, I…I…"

You lunge forward and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him like he was going to blow away. He’s caught by surprise, but you feel his arms come around your lower back, matching the pressure you’re exerting on your embrace.

The two of you stay like this for a moment, neither one sure what to say next. You nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, breathing in the clean, citrusy smell of whatever combination of hair products Meredith used. 

“Look, Belle, I know I don’t have the best history. Hell, you probably know a lot more about my past than I realize. I'm not oblivious to the fact that I’ve been in the public eye for the last 20 years. But I don’t want people filling your head with thoughts and ideas of who I used to be.”

“I know about the drugs, Dieter. That doesn’t bother me.”

“That’s not all of it.”

“I know you’ve been pretty uh…that you're pretty um, experienced.”

He shifts to sit next to you, turning so he’s facing you with one leg bent and resting on the bed. “Look,” he grabs your hands and can’t meet your eyes at first before he finally takes a deep breath and looks at you. “I’ve done some bad shit over the years. I can sit here and rationalize it away saying I was young and dumb or having a moment of weakness or, hell, blame it on the drugs. After a while, I started to wonder if it was…me. If I'm just a bad person.” He bites his lower lip as he takes another deep breath.

“What kind of bad things?” You were almost scared to ask. 

“I’ve…uh, I haven’t always been the most faithful in the past,” your breath hitches, "it was a long time ago, but it still doesn’t excuse it. I know that's probably a giant fucking red flag because of your ex but I don’t want you thinking I would ever ever do anything like that to you. I'm in such a better place now but I just keep getting judged on my past. I know everyone thinks I'm not capable of staying clean or having a healthy, stable relationship, but I want to keep trying."

You swallow hard, trying to keep the panic at bay. 

“Can you say something?” He asks with tears welling in his eyes.

“I…I don’t know what to say.” Suddenly your trepidation was realized. As sweet as Dieter has been, this part about his past makes you nervous given your history and insecurities.

“Look, I don’t want to freak you out and tell you that I love you,” your mouth goes dry as he says this. “But I am falling in love with you, and I can’t stop it. Hell, I've done more than fall. I’ve tumbled and am rolling down the hill," he gives a small chuckle. "And I know you feel it, this…us…too. When I kiss you, it's better than any high I've ever experienced in my life. And the way you look at me sometimes? Makes me feel like I'm fucking invincible. I just don’t want you to give up on me and leave.”

This all felt heavier than you were anticipating. You didn't think you'd be confessing your feelings to each other so soon, and frankly, you were in awe of Dieter's words. He was being so transparent and raw, so you wanted to try and let him in a bit.

“I care about you a lot Dieter,” you finally break the silence, but unable to meet his eyes. "And I'm not going to lie and say that I'm even more scared now of…this. Of us. What are we even?"

"Look, I'm not the best at relationships, but I want to try…you make me want to even though I'm scared."

"You're scared?" Now you meet his eyes.

"Fuck yes. How could I not be? You're beautiful, smart, funny, and so fucking good at what you do. You're brilliant and talented. And I just have all of this…darkness…in my past. I know I'm a lot, I come on too strong, but I don't want you to realize what a fuck up I've been and walk away."

You grab his face with your hands, stroking his stubble. "How can you think this way about yourself? You've made so much progress over the last few years. I obviously didn't know you then, but I want you to know how proud of you I am," he gave a half smile. "I care about you a lot, Dieter. You're really special to me too. What scares me isn't you, it's me. I'm not cut out for this, for you. And I'm not trying to think too far ahead but if this just ends here in Hawaii, I'm not sure how I'd…go about life without you."

“Well, I think it may be a little late for that. I can’t turn back, not now.” He grabs your hand as you look in his eyes. "You know earlier when Meredith called you my girl? That made me feel so…important. What we have is…I don't wanna fuck it up."

"I feel the same," you smile as you see his eyes light up. "It might take me a little more time, but I want this, I want…us. But if having a label freaks you out…" 

He cuts you off with a kiss before getting up to lock the door.

“Seems like we both like to overthink shit," he smiles. "Let’s not think for a bit and just enjoy this.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: So fun fact, on my last trip to Kauai I discovered masaladas and became obsessed with them. Writing this chapter made me Google where I can find some close to me. Also, did I make Dieter look like Tim Rockford on purpose for his scene with Sam? Yes. Yes, I did and I hope you enjoyed that visual.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate all of the kind comments, reblogs, and likes … it makes my day!

Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap / @maryfanson / @sunnywithachanceofjavi / @sin-djarin / @winchestergypsy90 / @for-a-longlongtime /@harriedandharassed / @titlee78 / @midnightraain / @poodlebae / @partyofone3413 / @guelyury

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #working title fic #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal fanfic

[chans-room]

Possess Your Heart - 3

Pairing: TA! Namjoon x cam girl! reader (ot7 x reader overall)

Genre: yandere, smut, fluff, angst, thriller

Rating: Explicit smut so 18+ only! Minors DNI

Words: ~8k

Update: the tag yandere has been applied to the series as a whole; please proceed with caution as yandere themes will be in every chapter.

Warnings: allusions to stalking/creepy behavior from an unknown individual, pet names, choking, D/s themes, WKorea party inspired Namjoon (I will not apologize for this), self deprecation/self conscious thoughts from the reader, descriptions of an anxiety/panic attack, implied sex work (she’s still a cam girl), academic dishonesty lmao, hand kink, a singular accidental use of the word daddy, subspace, potentially dubious consent (reader is enthusiastic about her consent but is on the edge of subspace, so please read with caution), dirty talking, explicit sexual content, hair pulling, thigh riding, finger sucking, mentioned sexual experiences with other people, fingering, biting, overstimulation, multiple female orgasms, brief subdrop, aftercare, blowjob/deep throating, semi-threatening texts from an unknown party. if i missed any please let me know!

A/n: Again, I’m so sorry this has taken so long. Id love to hear your thoughts on this and if there are any warnings I’ve missed please let me know 🖤 beta read by @bibbykins and @masterkenobi so she should be clean

Previous | Next

To do list: Throw out bad food ✔️ Go through closet ✔️ Fix microwave clock ✔️ Make copy of new key ✔️ Check bathroom window lock ✔️ Throw out bodysuit Seokjin gave her ✔️

She couldn’t stop her foot from tapping as they got closer and closer to campus. “Kitten, we can just go home. You can miss another class, it’s okay,” Yoongi hummed, splaying one of his large hands over her thigh soothingly. 

“No, I need to go,” she sighed, pouting as he drove into campus. She wanted nothing more than to let Yoongi take her home, keep her safe in bed while he fucked the worries, fears, and all other thoughts out of her head. But she couldn’t. She needed to be stronger than that — she was stronger than that, “I don’t want to. But I need to.”

“If you’re sure… I’ll pick you up when you’re done.” Yoongi said, parking his car in front of the main building on campus, “I’ll be back at 4 and we can go get some rameyon and—”

“Yoon, it’s fine,” she smiled, trying to let go of her building anxiety as she leaned over the center console with a cheeky smile, “It’s Jimin’s birthday, and I promised him I’d go over after I’m done with class today. I’m making him dinner and we’re gonna watch this drama he hasn’t shut up about.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, releasing a huff, “Fine, then I’ll come get you, kitten, it’s not a big deal—“ he began but her lips on his cheek stopped him short.

“I know, but I have a lot to do today, and if you come get me you’ll just get me into bed again and I won’t finish anything and then Min will be pissed,” she giggled before leaning away, but his fingers wrapping around her throat stopped her. His pupils were blown wide, holding her there for a moment before speaking. 

“Not so fast, kitten,” he tutted softly, “If that’s what you’re doing today, that’s fine. But I think I deserve a real kiss,” he smirked, pressing his lips to hers firmly. She melted against his touch, plush lips against hers forcing all of her thoughts to come to a standstill. She could only think of him. His tongue in her mouth, the scrape of his teeth against her lower lip, the smell of his cologne. 

She whined and pulled away from him with a pout, “Yoongs, I have to go.”

“I’m not stopping you, kitten,” he laughed.

“No, but you’re trying to seduce me,” she whined again.

“Is it working?” He questioned, pulling her back to him by the neck, his lips hovering over hers. “Because if it is, I need to call the shop and tell them I won’t be there before it opens and we’re running out of time.”

His words slowly permeated her brain, her eyes going wide and a frantic gasp tearing out of her, “Fuck! Yoongi I’m gonna be late!” She yelped, flinging herself out of his car, scrambling to grab her backpack, “I’ll call you!” she said hastily before blowing him a kiss, slamming his door shut, and running out across the lawn.

No one bothered to look at her as she slipped into the lecture hall. She normally wouldn’t have minded missing class, but she found herself actually liking Art History. 

It definitely had nothing to do with the 6 foot tall, impossibly gorgeous TA she got to stare at for 90 minutes 2 days a week. 

It was a silly crush really, like something out of a drama. Namjoon played the part of the swoon worthy, yet aloof and distant TA perfectly. He rarely spoke to anyone directly in or out of class, and was always so serious and stern when he was giving lectures or reminding everyone to turn in their essays on time unless they wanted their hard work to be put directly into the trash. But at the same time, the tight turtlenecks he favored stretched thin across his broad chest made her mind race with fantasies, and his strong arms made her daydream about being picked up and thrown around by him. She hadn’t spoken a word to him, and wasn’t planning on starting a conversation any time soon, and yet his comments on her essays bordered on praise — and he had once even written a whole paragraph responding to a point she’d made in her paper. It made her want to impress him, if that was even possible.

She had just begun to admire Namjoon’s outfit for the day — a tight black turtleneck with the sleeves pushed up his golden forearms, tucked into black slacks that were pulled taught around his muscular thighs, with a gold belt buckle that pulled her focus to the one place she shouldn’t stare — when a sharp whisper pulled her focus, “Good thing you’re here,” Jihyun smirked from across the aisle as she pulled out her laptop and notebook. “We’ve got a test next class. You missed the review.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. Jihyun was one of Jungkook’s fan girls, an incredibly annoying one who thought that becoming friends with her would improve her chances at scoring a date with the ever popular streamer. If only Jihyun knew what she and Jungkook actually did together most of the time; the younger girl would burst into flames from jealousy alone if she knew.

“I mean… I could help you with the review…” Jihyun sighed, “But first I’d need you to talk to Jungkookie—“

“Miss Woo,” the professor snapped, making Jihyun sit up in her seat, “I know you think whatever you’re talking about is more important than my class, but I promise you, it is not. I don’t need you distracting other students, especially not ones who missed the review.” Jihyun sunk in her seat, face turning pink at the professors’ admonition. She wished she could feel some sort of satisfaction at hearing Woo Jiyhun get put in her place, but the professor’s obvious call out made her hands shake with anxiety.

That, plus Namjoon’s calculating stare from the front of the room made her want to disappear.

The rest of the class passed in a blur; she could barely retain a single sentence the professor said, all she could focus on was the feeling of the cold sweat gathering on the back of her neck. Yoongi was right — she shouldn’t have gone to class. All she could do was try to focus on not crying and keeping the nausea at bay —- a much harder feat than she anticipated with Jihyun glaring at her and the feeling of Namjoon’s eyes settled on her skin like acid.

Her goal was to run out of the lecture hall as fast as possible, but when the professor called for the end of class, it felt like she was moving through cement to try and pack her things away. The room was entirely empty by the time she’d finished. 

“Hey,” a soft voice coming from behind her made her jump, nearly dropping her laptop as she spun around.

She found none other than Namjoon, towering over her — the last person who she wanted to cry in front of.

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he frowned, eyebrows knitting together in concern as he took a step closer. “I just wanted to ask you if everything was okay. You seemed really out of it all class—“ he explained, but stopped himself.

His gentle kindness made shame burn in her chest, her lip trembling as tears gathered in her eyes. She was such a mess that the TA who barely spoke to anyone pitied her — it made her feel sick. “I’m fine,” she lied, her voice watery as she fought the emotions welling up in her chest. He raised a skeptical eyebrow — the singular action effectively breaking her down. “I can’t fail this test. If I fail it, it’ll tank my class average, and then it’ll ruin my GPA, and I’ll never get my GPA back up to where I need it for my scholarship, and then I’ll have to take on more debt and—“ she hiccuped, tears now steadily streaming down her face. 

“Oh no, no, no, no, no. Okay, uh,” he stammered, eyebrows shooting up as he looked around, “Come on, we’re going to my office. No one will bother us there.” Without another word, he grabbed her backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, and plucked her laptop from her hands, tucking it under his arm before grabbing her hand with one of his. 

She didn’t have it in her to fight him, just let him pull her behind him, tears blurring her vision as he wove through endless hallways eventually coming up to an office, a placard engraved with the name Kim Namjoon. “How do you have an office if you’re a TA?” She sniffled as he released her hand, fishing in his pockets for a key.

“I’m the department TA, so I get an office,” he smiled, eyes turning into little crescent moons as his dimples appeared. She felt her heart flutter in her chest — he looked so beautiful when he smiled like that. The intimidating man who she had been pining after disappeared in an instant, replaced by a version of him she almost wouldn’t have recognized; but one she found herself liking even more appeared. “We have to be a little quiet though, I’m not supposed to have students in here,” he whispered softly, as he pushed the door open and ushered her inside. 

But the moment of reprieve from her stress faded as she remembered why she was there, sinking into the small, gray loveseat tucked into the corner, curling in on herself as the tears started to pour out of her again. Less than 30 seconds later, she felt the seat next to her dip. “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll get it together. I’m just a crybaby—“ she hiccuped, shoulders shaking from the force of her tears.

“Hey, you don’t need to do that,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to rest against his chest, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” If it were any other situation, she was sure having her face in his chest would have been something out of a half-baked sexual fantasy that she would use later, but his gentle hand on her back and his soft voice in her ear made the edges of her vision soften. He was firm, yet clearly concerned about her; she had to fight the urge to slip into subspace. Something about him felt natural, and comforting in a way she didn’t feel around most people. 

She shook her head, pushing the vulnerability down; Yoongi was just a call away and he always knew how to take care of her when she was in that state. “I didn’t mean to make this your problem. I should have remembered to read the syllabus before skipping class. I’m just dumb and stressed and—“

“Hey, you’re not dumb, don’t talk about yourself like that,” he said firmly, making the haze creep up her spine again as he continued, “Even without the review, I’m sure you’d pass the exam — seeing as you’re one of the only people who actually get the class and the material, but if it makes you feel better I can take you through the review you missed,” Namjoon offered.

She couldn’t contain her gasp as she pulled back to look at him, eyes watering, “You would do that for me?”

“Of course I would,” Namjoon smiled, cupping her face in his hand, wiping away a tear. “I-I mean if anyone deserves to pass that class with a good grade it’s you. I always know which essays are yours, because they’re actually well thought out and have a strong point of view; even if you forget to put your name on them,” he smirked, making blood rush to her cheeks.

“I always kinda wondered how I got grades when I forget to put my name on half of what I turn in,” she admitted, feeling a little breathless at the idea that Namjoon perceived her so effortlessly, burying her face in his chest. “I figured it was maybe like a process of elimination or something—“

“You’d be surprised how few people turn in their essays, actually. Your writing just always stands out to me,” he explained, making her melt even more, “But if you really wanna do the review, I’ll help you. No need for any more tears, baby.”

The tone in his voice made her shift in her seat, feeling the sticky arousal pool in between her thighs, she knew the flimsy lace Yoongi had pulled out of her drawer for her was soaked through. She sighed, “God, Namjoon, I could kiss you,” rubbing her face with the sleeve of her sweater. Her brain caught up with her mouth a second too late; fear and shame rolled down her spine in a cold sweat as she pushed herself back into the arm of the loveseat, putting some distance between them.

But Namjoon simply followed her, maintaining their closeness as he crowded her into the corner of the couch. “Don’t get my hopes up, baby,” he winked, “I’m a weak man. You could take anything from me with those watery eyes of yours,” he cooed, wiping away another stray tear before relaxing back into his seat.

She couldn’t find words to respond, too transfixed by the way his legs spread open, his knee knocking into hers. It took everything she had to resist the urge to drop to her knees in front of him. The situation felt dangerous — not in the way where she felt unsafe; Namjoon made her feel entirely too safe. The sheer magnetism of him was amplified by him being so close, and she wasn’t sure how much more of his teasing or his praise she could take before she did something she would regret.

“You ready to study, baby?” he smirked. How casually he used the endearment made her heart flutter again and heat flooded her cheeks.  

“Y-yeah, totally ready for you,” she stuttered, shaking hands reaching for her bag, but his hand caught her wrist, pulling her toward him softly. His grip wasn’t rough, but firm, and if she had tried to pull herself out of it she knew he would let go immediately. But she didn’t want him to let go.

“Don’t worry about your things, baby,” he smiled, pulling her back to his side before he pulled out his laptop, “I have the whole thing on my computer. And I can email you whatever you need.”

“O-Oh, okay,” she nodded slowly. She didn’t know how the hell she was supposed to focus on the review when all she could think about was the sticky wetness pooling between her legs and how much she hoped it wasn’t dripping onto the couch beneath her. She didn’t want to explain to him that the incredibly kind thing he was doing for her was making her pussy so wet she could barely think straight.

“Okay so the exam starts with the Gothic, think Vasari, and spans to…” Namjoon began, but while he spoke his hand drifted to her thigh, and his deep voice turned into a dull hum as her brain tried to keep up with his words. But her focus was taken entirely by the warmth and weight of his massive palm on her bare leg, the look of his fingers spread out across her skin making her mouth water.

Namjoon’s hands were so different from what she was used to. Jungkook’s skillful, tattooed hands on her body always stoked the flames of lust, and she could spend days staring at Yoongi’s beautiful, diligent hands that were always adorned with clunky metal jewelry. But Namjoon’s hands were long and slender, with prominent veins and knobby knuckles. She briefly wondered how they would feel dragging along the walls of her cunt, and how the veins would look glistening with her cum. 

She felt her mouth water as she began to imagine what he looked like under that tight turtleneck, but especially under his slacks. She could picture his thick, golden thighs framing what she could only imagine would be a breathtaking cock. 

“Baby, don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t focus with you looking at me like that,” Namjoon rasped, breaking through the haze of her daydream.

“Like what?” she frowned. The emotions firing through her brain were messy, jumbled signals she couldn’t figure out to slow down. The fear she’d been too obvious and offended him mixed with the shame of her obvious crush on Namjoon made her feel nauseous as she waited for him to reply.

He stared at her for a minute, then released a deep sigh, “Baby you’re not paying attention at all, I can see that lost look in your eyes,” he frowned, closing his laptop and turning toward her.

Another flare of shame bloomed in her chest; she was supposed to be paying attention for fucks sake, but instead she was fantasizing about a relative stranger. “I’m sorry, sir,” she mumbled softly.

The sharp inhale from Namjoon made her blood run cold, her thoughts coming to a standstill as she realized what she said. “God, you just,” he ground out, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. But when his eyes opened, there was an intensity there she knew intimately. “Fuck it,” he snarled before leaning forward as he tugged her to him, pressing his lips against hers firmly.

The effect was instant — the tension in her shoulders melted away as her eyes fluttered closed, letting Namjoon’s presence wash over her mind and mute everything except him, him, him. She didn’t care that what they were doing was definitely against university policies, nor that she quite literally knew nothing about Namjoon aside from the fact he was her TA. She really didn’t care that he was manhandling her, gripping the backs of her knees and pulling her into his lap like a doll. All she cared about was the way he licked into her mouth so purposefully, as if he was savoring the taste of her, and the way his fingers dug into her hips and rooted her into his lap.

“Alright. I don’t want you to fail, and I need to feel you so this is what we’re going to do,” Namjoon said, pulling her away from his mouth with the hand he buried in her hair, “Because you’re just a desperate, needy little thing that can’t pay attention when I’m trying to help you study, I’m gonna give you the answers to the exam, and you’re going to be a good, quiet girl for me, okay? Nod if you understand.”

She nodded obediently, falling into the vastness of subspace she knew so well, her brain repeating softly he wants you, he wants to take care of you, he cares about you.

Namjoon hummed happily in response, pulling her back into another searing kiss. She didn’t even register how he moved her body so easily, pushing her until she was straddling his thigh, warm hands flipping up her skirt to expose her dripping cunt before pulling her away again. 

“Look at you baby, making a mess all for me,” Namjoon cooed, snapping the band of her thong against her hip. “Let me help you with that,” he said with a cruel smile before the sound of fabric tearing filled the room. “There you go, now you can leak all over my nice pants like a good little slut,” he smiled, pocketing the shreds of red lace.

The experimental flex of his leg made her gasp, eyes rolling back into her head as he did, “Fuck, Joon,” she shuttered, hands gripping his broad shoulders to maintain some tether to reality. 

“Now, baby, I know you have as much to lose from anyone finding out about this as I do, don’t you?” He asked softly. It would have felt condescending if not for the way he cupped her cheek so tenderly, and the flex of his thigh muscle against her core as he spoke. She could only nod dumbly in response, mouth falling open to pant wantonly at him, utterly transfixed by the raw dominance rolling off him. “Good. I know you wouldn't want us to get caught. So we’ll keep meeting up to study, okay? Just so no one gets any ideas. We can tell everyone you’re just very interested in art history, isn’t that right baby?”

She nodded again, barely grasping the words coming out of his mouth but she knew that agreeing wouldn’t stop him from bouncing his leg, which was the only thing she was concerned with at the moment. His black slacks had rubbed her clit in such a painfully delicious way that she could barely keep her eyes open.

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed, making her moan as her eyes fluttered shut. “Now, now, pretty girl, I told you to be quiet. We’re in my office, anyone could walk by and hear us. I didn’t want to have to do this, but you left me no choice,” he sighed, slipping two of his fingers into her mouth and bullying them into her throat. She choked for a second, trying to breathe through the customary panic that accompanied anything lodging itself so deeply into her throat, before swallowing around the digits thickly. She was rewarded with a pleased hum and Namjoon’s hand on her hip, guiding her in a shallow thrust that sent fireworks through her nerve-endings. “God, where the fuck did you learn that?” He groaned. 

She was pretty sure he didn’t need to know that she’d become a pro at deepthroating because Jungkook was always getting too excited and forcing his cock down her throat, which nearly resulted in disaster the first few times. He also definitely didn’t need to know that Jungkook often teased her about how he had personally throat trained her, something that never failed to make shame — mixed with a small ounce of pride — flare in her belly. Especially not with Jungkook now becoming more popular on campus thanks to his gaming, even if it meant he was gone more often. No, that would be a secret she took to her grave. No one ever needed to know all of that… well, aside from Jimin. But Jimin knew everything.

“Fuck, you’re just so pretty. Drooling on my fingers as you fuck yourself on my thigh in that pretty little skirt. You look so pretty all the time baby, but I think you’d be even prettier with your throat full of my cock,” he asked, making her whine loudly as she swallowed around his fingers again.

She could already see how big he was — she didn’t consider herself a size queen but she knew what she could take; Seokjin being one of the biggest she’d ever had. But this looked bigger, even hidden away behind the zipper of his slacks. The thought alone made her clit throb in desperation. She didn’t care how stupid it was: she wanted Namjoon, now.

“You want my cock that bad baby?” he laughed, making her nod and whine again around his fingers. “Alright, pretty girl, I’ll give you my cock. But first, I need to see you cum for me.” He gingerly pulled his fingers out of her throat, smirking at the strings of saliva that coated the long digits. “You’re such a pretty, messy girl aren’t you?”

She surged forward, pressing her lips to his again with a hum. The feeling of his lips on hers made her brain go fuzzy, enough so that she needed to pull back to stop from getting dizzy. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be Joonie,” she sighed, smiling hazily as she gripped his shoulders before beginning to rock back and forth. His hands flew to her hips, a little moan slipping past her lips as he pressed her dripping cunt harder into the hard muscle of his thigh.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he ground out through his teeth, “Now tell me what you want baby.”

“Please make me cum, Joonie,” she pleaded, feeling the familiar tightness in her muscles as she worked herself on his thigh. “Please,” she whispered, dropping her head onto his shoulder with a whine.

“Baby, you gotta be quiet,” Namjoon cooed, scattering kisses across her chest and neck, “If you don’t remember, I’m gonna have to make you cum with your face buried into these very nice couch cushions.”

“Please,” she panted, the image of him fucking her into the fabric, pools of mascara, tears, spit, and cum underneath her filtered through her mind, forcing a stifled high pitched moan out of her mouth. 

“As you wish,” Namjoon smirked, standing up from his spot on the couch, holding her against him firmly before setting her on her feet. She felt her cheeks heat as Namjoon towered over her, his thumb brushing her cheek softly before he whispered, “Face in those cushions, ass up baby,” he demanded.

The order shot through her like lightning — goosebumps rose on her skin and her knees wobbled as she took a cautious step toward the couch, her knees sinking into the soft material. The thought of how a relationship with someone as powerful and dominating as him could be sent another wave of arousal through her body as she did what he asked, her face pressed into the ribbed seat cushion. She could feel the sticky essence drip out of her lewdly and roll down her thigh as Namjoon flipped up her skirt.

“Fucking Christ, baby,” Namjoon rasped, dragging a finger through her folds with a hum. “All of this for me?”

“Please, Joon, just–” she pleaded, but choked on her words as two thick fingers slipped into her cunt, her eyes rolling back as he plunged them all the way in. She was right; the feeling of his knobby knuckles dragging through her walls made her pussy flutter and a ragged moan to tumble past her lips, muffled by the cushion. 

“So pretty for me baby,” Namjoon whispered before the sound of a sharp crack filled the room, white-hot pleasure pain following immediately as she whined. “You liked that, didn’t you? I could feel you tighten around my fingers when I smacked your ass.”

She tried to string together a half coherent response, but the feeling of Namjoon’s fingers withdrawing slowly and the gentle turn of his fingers inside her stole the thoughts out of her head. All she could think was, “More, please,” which she pleaded for through a warbly moan.

“You’re such a perfect little sub, aren’t you baby? You just want to be manhandled and fucked like the little doll you are, don’t you?” He asked, slamming his fingers back into her forcefully. All she could do was nod as tears welled in her eyes, the soft ah ah ah from the force of his thrusts lost into the padding beneath her face. “What a perfect little sub. Cum for me, baby, I want to feel you dripping down my wrist like the perfect girl I know you are,” he rasped in her ear. His teeth digging into the meat of her ass pushed her over the edge — she came apart with a breathless moan, eyes squeezed shut as the tears spilled down her cheeks, creating a wet patch in the gray material.

Namjoon’s pace was relentless, slipping in another finger as he continued to work her through her orgasm, his other hand gripping the flesh of her ass tightly as he kneaded into the skin, soft nips to the backs of her thighs and ass making her mouth hang open, drool joining the wetness spreading under her cheek.

Namjoon hummed contemplatively, slowing his thrusts slightly but not stopping before he spoke, “You’re not dripping down my wrist yet baby girl,” he tutted, “Gotta fix that, don’t we?” 

His fingers slipped out of her cunt with a wet schlick, then she was on her back, staring at the white tiled ceiling dizzily before Namjoon’s face came into focus. His gorgeous smile and soft eyes put her brain at ease, his clean hand tenderly cupping her cheek and wiping away her tears before the same three, thick fingers pushed into her weeping cunt.

“Fuck, Joon, ‘s a lot,” she mumbled as he angled his fingers up, hooking into the spot that made her see stars.

“I could see the bruises on your ass baby, I know you can take it,” he cooed, “And I wanna see your face when I make you cum again.”

She felt the second one building fast, and she knew it would hit her harder than the first — it always did. Her vision went blurry as he ground his fingertips into the spot, his free arm holding her down as she squirmed, trying to get away from the sensation but grinding herself into it all the same.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe with the force of it, the pleasure overwhelming her to the point of sobbing as her pussy spasmed around his fingers. She didn’t realize she was about to cum until it was happening — she had no ability to warn Namjoon, but his lips pressing into hers muffled the scream as she came.

She felt weightless for a moment, like all of her nerve endings had been burned away leaving nothing but the frayed, numbed ends. But then she felt Namjoon’s weight on top of her, his thumb tenderly brushing away the tears on her cheeks. The ringing in her ears muffled the sound of his voice for a second, but it quickly faded into Namjoon’s soft, sweet voice, “You did such a good job for me baby,” he smiled, pressing and open mouthed kiss to her chest, his tongue tracing over the bare skin for a second before he pulled back. “Come on, let’s get you put back together.”

“No, Joonie,” she pouted, feeling him slip his fingers out of her pussy. “Wanna feel you. Want your cock. I can take it, promise.”

“Not today baby, maybe next time,” he said firmly, “You just came real hard and I think we need to talk about some boundaries before we take that next step, and I don’t even have a condom with me.” 

She frowned, tears welling in her eyes as she struggled to take the rejection in stride with how far into subspace she was. He doesn’t want you. You’re disgusting. He thinks you’re a cheap slut who will give it to anyone who gives you a smile and does something nice. He’s not wrong; you are a slut. Look, you’re begging to fuck him and he just wanted to make sure you didn’t fail your exam—

“Hey, I said no more tears, baby,” Namjoon chastised softly, stopping the voice in her head in its tracks, “I want you, I do. But we need to not be in my office when I fuck you, and we need to have a discussion about consent and limits and all that before we go there. I really shouldn’t have even done this, because you were in a vulnerable state and I knew that, but fuck you called me sir, and like I said before, I am a weak man,” he explained firmly, “And I really like you.”

His words seeped into her brain slowly, her mind starting to process his words. He was right; they needed to talk before they did anything. He had a right to know about Yoongi and Jungkook — at least in the vaguest terms — and she needed him to know what she could and couldn’t give him in terms of a relationship. And as much as she didn’t want to, she would give up the potential with Namjoon if he didn’t accept her relationship with both of them. 

“Are you still with me, baby?” Namjoon asked softly, pulling her into his lap for the second time, tilting her head back to look into his eyes. She nodded and smiled gently, tucking herself into his frame with a sigh.

“‘M good,” she said, “Need a minute.”

“That’s okay, take all the time you need,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She let herself relax, pressed against his chest as she came out of the floaty, disconnected space her head was in. “Do you have other classes today?” He broke the silence with a whisper.

“No,” she hummed, “I was gonna get some studying in for the exam and wait for my best friend to get out of dance practice. He won’t be out until 3 though.”

“Well you can stay here and we can actually go over the exam if you want, I don’t have any other classes today either,” Namjoon said. The proposition made her heart flutter; he wasn’t tossing her out or making her feel bad for what had happened. He actually cared. 

She shuffled closer, intent on burying her face deeper into his shoulder for the time being when she felt it. His hard cock pressed against her still sensitive cunt made her flinch, but the thick warmth of it made her mouth water. Her eyes flickered up to look at him, nervous to see his reaction.

The golden expanse of his neck was exposed, his head thrown back and jaw clenched as he breathed through his nose. She felt his hand grip her thigh firmly, stopping her from moving an inch against him. She knew he was fighting it; fighting how much he wanted it. But she needed to make him snap.

“Joon, can I… can I see you at least? Or let me give you a hand?” She smiled innocently, met only by a deep grumble from inside Namjoon’s chest.

“Fuck baby,” he sighed as she rocked backward, feeling the length of it drag against her slit, “We shouldn’t.”

“But Joon,” she whined, littering kisses across the sliver of his exposed neck and across his cheeks, “Please?” His fingertips dug into her skin, making her shiver and smile, “I’m not feeling super subby anymore either. I know what I want Joonie, and it's your cock in my throat.”

She felt the breath catch in his chest, hands relaxing as he hummed, “Alright baby,” he nodded, releasing a shaky breath, “Since you begged me so pretty.”

Excitement slithered up her spine as she pushed herself off his lap, settling between his open knees. She watched closely as he undid his belt, fingers meticulous and nimble as he unbuttoned his slacks; the sound of his zipper slowly being undone consumed her senses. She couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the sight — Namjoon was criminally beautiful. The peak of his stomach as he pulled at the hem of his sweater out of the confines of his slacks made her hands tremble, and the expanse of sculpted, golden thighs made her brain swim with ideas as he pushed them down his legs, allowing them to pool on the floor beside her after he kicked them off, along with his shoes.

“Go on baby, take me out,” Namjoon breathed, flinching as her cold palms made contact with his skin. She frowned apologetically, kneading into the flesh gently as she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his clothed cock, giggling when she felt it twitch. Namjoon’s hand threading into her hair made her eyes roll back as she continued to drop chaste kisses along his shaft, lapping at the wetness growing on the front of his underwear. 

“All this for me?” she smirked, peeling back the band of his underwear as she stared into his eyes, watching the realization flash across his eyes as she repeated his words. 

“Don’t tease me, brat,” Namjoon growled, tightening the grip on her hair, “Or the next time I see you I won’t be nearly as nice as I’ve been today.”

She couldn’t help but smirk as she inched the fabric of his underwear down, holding eye contact until his fluttered shut in bliss as her tongue darted out to meet the warm flesh. She hummed happily, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat before she cautioned a look down at his cock.

Her mouth hung open in shock at what she saw — she was truly concerned he would hurt her if she tried to take him without some serious prep. She also didn’t know how he didn’t get lightheaded from the sheer amount of blood she figured it took to get him hard.

His cock was long, pretty, and thick, and the sight of it made her pussy throb with desire. She thought for a second about how well his cock would fit into the course requirements for Art Appreciation — his cock was up there with Jungkook, Yoongi, and Seokjin for prettiest she’d ever seen. She was mesmerized by it, ghosting her lips across the length of it before she took the tip between her lips. His hips twitched as she moaned softly, savoring the salty bead of pre cum as it hit her tongue.

“Shit, baby,” Namjoon choked out, shivering as she began to suck on the head of his cock softly, “God, your mouth is fucking incredible.”

She preened softly, the encouragement emboldening her to flatten her tongue as she inhaled sharply through her nose and pushed herself forward to take more of him into her throat. He was far thicker than what she was used to; she was positive there would be a definite bulge in her throat.

She let out a shaky breath through her nose, trying to gauge how much more of him there was to take when she felt his fingers intertwine with hers, “You don’t have to take it all, baby,” he said through his teeth, “I know its a lot and I don’t want you to hurt–”

She cut him off as she swallowed around his length, narrowing her eyes at him as he threw his head back again. His words made her heart melt a little, but the voice in the back of her head took it as a challenge — she needed to show him that she could do it, she wanted to do it. With another sharp inhale, she pushed herself forward, tears instantly breaking past her lashes and tumbling down her cheeks. The stretch made her breath hitch; pushing down the asphyxiating feeling was much more difficult with him than with anyone else because of his almost unbearable girth. But the next thing she knew, her nose was pressed against the soft skin of his pelvis. A flash of gratefulness flickered through her brain at the fact he was so well groomed, before her mind was taken over by the need to please him.

Her free hand gripped the wrist at the back of her head, giving it a squeeze in time with their conjoined hands before she relaxed her throat. “Baby,” he groaned, “Are you sure? I won’t last long with you like this anyway but–”

She cut him off with another shallow swallow, making the hand in her hair tighten. Then she felt his length dragging through her throat as he pulled her off him slightly. Her eyes fluttered shut as he set a slow, shallow pace, fucking himself deep into her throat so carefully. She was absolutely smitten with how gentle he chose to be despite such a depraved act — it made her heart flutter in her chest.

But the absolute filth that poured out of his mouth made her head spin. “Fuck, you’re so perfect, baby, my perfect little sub. Gonna fuck you so good next time, gonna make sure we’re in my room where I can hear you scream my name, baby, fuck,” he rasped, fighting to keep his voice low. “I’m gonna cum baby, where do you want it?” 

She simply squeezed his hand and relaxed her throat making him groan gutterally, his whole body twitching for a moment as he came.

She pulled off him with a soft pop, his softening cock resting against his thigh. His body went limp as she did, the hand in her hair unwinding tenderly as she rested her cheek against his knee. “I don’t know how I’m going to do anything the rest of the day baby,” Namjoon sighed, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

“I knew I could do it,” she preened, earning a laugh as he tucked himself away.

“You really showed me didn’t you?” he chuckled, “So good for me. I don’t even know what I would get done if you were mine, I’d just think about your pretty mouth on my cock all day.”

The word echoed in her mind — mine mine mine — and for a second, she felt a flash of fear shoot up her spine. She knew nothing about Namjoon, for all she knew he could be the person creeping on her OnlyFans and sending her threatening messages. Her hands stuttered to a stop as they moved across his thighs before flinching away from him, ripping her hand away.

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, following her as she pushed herself off her knees and onto her ass, scrambling away from his grasp. He froze and raised his hands in surrender, falling onto his knees in front of her. “Hey, did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to offend you–”

“Does the name Soft Vixen mean anything to you?” she cut him off, backing herself into the desk.

Genuine confusion flashed in his eyes before he carefully replied, “...No? Should it?”

Relief settled in her brain, but an uneasiness returned. There was still someone sending her messages, and potentially breaking into her apartment doing god knows what. “S-sorry there’s just… stuff going on in my life right now and it’s all a little… scary.”

Namjoon frowned, scooting closer hesitantly, “You don’t have to tell me anything, but just know that I’m here for you, whenever and whatever you need.”

She nodded, stifling the panic in her chest as she scooted forward, letting him pull her into his arms.

“Sorry. I know you didn’t sign up for this when you brought me to your office–”

“Don’t worry about it, baby. Some tears aren’t going to run me off that easily,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of her head. She felt the familiar flutter of warmth in her chest when she felt his arms tighten.

It was hard for her to believe someone would care about her so effortlessly, especially when so many people in her life had made it abundantly clear she never mattered to them; not to her family, to her former friends, not even to her former fiancé. But in 3 years, she had managed to find people who seemed to genuinely care about her. She figured that even if she was wrong about them in the long run, she wouldn’t deny herself the opportunity to accept their affection.

Her phone vibrating in her bag next to her pulled her focus; she gave Namjoon a sheepish smile before answering, Jimin’s excited voice filtering through her speaker.

“Where are you, angel? It’s my birthday, I’m out of practice early, and we have so much wine to drink tonight,” he said with a laugh.

“I’m just finishing up in the main lecture hall,” she rolled her eyes, Namjoon’s arms loosening around her as she began to shuffle in her seat, “I’ll meet you at the library in like 10 minutes and then we can start on our night of drinking and absolutely insane drama you want me to watch so bad it’s the only thing you requested for your birthday.” 

“Damn right,” Jimin laughed proudly, making her heart squeeze in her chest. She loved Jimin’s laugh, it always made her feel like her problems were so small and so distant, “Now get your cute ass over to the library so we can start my birthday extravaganza.”

She giggled, nodding to herself as Namjoon helped her up, “Alright Min, I’m on my way,” she said, earning an indignant huff in response.

“Hurry up, angel, I am no-so-patiently waiting,” he snarked before the line went dead. She smiled, rolling her eyes at his impatience before giving Namjoon another soft smile.

“Sorry to run out like this, but he will hunt me down if I don’t show up in the next 10 minutes,” she grimaced, “He has my location on his phone for when we go out and he absolutely has used it to find me in the mall before when I wasn’t answering his texts.”

Namjoon smiled, cupping her cheek gently, “Don’t worry about me, baby, it’s your friend’s birthday. May I?” he asked, gesturing to her phone. She nodded, making him smile as he plucked the phone out of her hand, typing something quickly before putting it back in her hand. “Now you have my number, you can text me or call me any time.” He stared at her for a moment before he hummed contemplatively and peeled off his turtleneck.

Her mouth went dry at the expanse of his chest; it was firm and built, a truly marvelous sight to behold. Her mind flickered through the catalogs of art she’d studied, all the depictions of the naked male form that had been venerated by scholars as perfection, and found all of them paled in comparison to him; he was absolutely statuesque.

“Here, take my sweater. I’ve got another in my bag. You can clean yourself up with it, if you want,” Namjoon said with a shy smile. She found it endearing how easily he fluctuated between the shy, nerdy version of himself and the dominating, critical one. 

“Thanks, Joonie,” she smiled, her face heating up at the tenderness of his consideration, “But what are you gonna wear? I don’t think you can just walk across campus like this–”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got another outfit in my bag,” he shrugged, “I work out on campus anyway, no one will think anything of it. It’s the least I could do considering I ripped your thong. Which I can and will replace by the way.”

She nodded, taking the sweater from his outstretched hand with an innocent smile and a shrug, “No need, I have many more where that came from,” she winked. Namjoon’s eyes went wide at her words, tucking his chin into his chest.

She made quick work of cleaning herself up as Namjoon changed into his work-out attire, apologizing as she did and promising to bring the sweater back when she saw him next before shoving it in her bag. Namjoon walked her out of the building, carefully leading her back through the maze of empty halls, refusing to back down when she assured him she could find her way alone. 

They made it to the library as their 10 minutes were up, Namjoon giving her a smile and a wave as he split off from her, heading toward the gym. He was clear about not wanting her friend to see him, but she knew she was about to spill everything to Jimin anyway. But Namjoon didn't need to know that.

She felt her phone buzz, rolling her eyes at Jimin’s meticulous time management skills when she saw him wave at her from one of the tables. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as she checked the notification.

From Yoongs: kitten, i have your new key, i’ll leave it in your mailbox. also, you should really check your bathroom window. it was unlocked. To Yoongs: my bathroom window unlocks? From Yoongs: yes, kitten, it does. be more careful, yeah? for me?

She shivered, fear creeping up her spine as her phone chimed again. She didn’t want to look, she fought the urge to just ignore it without looking, but morbid curiosity got the better of her.

From Unknown: You’ll see in time that we’re meant for each other. We always have been.

Previous | Next

Taglist: @kosmicbomb @eureka-its-zico @bibbykins @here2bbtstrash @haliiimede @gimmethatagustd @bri-mal @seokjinkismet @pasteljoonie @whatudowhennooneseesyou

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon x reader #yandere namjoon #bts smut #bts yandere #bts fic #bts x reader #bts thriller #bts fanfction #possess your heart

[lemonzestywrites]

writing patterns

tagged by @jeeyuns @devirnis ty lovelies!!

rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

a foundation of trust a love we cannot see

| buck/eddie, WIP, explicit, BDSM, slow burn, fwb (3/17 ch. 61k) |

Weird calls aren’t unusual in their field. That’s a simple given with their job- one that Eddie has definitely come to learn by now.

===

let me find some warmth inside this little love of mine

| buck/eddie, teen, new year’s eve, first kiss, mutual pining (4k) |

Loud and Eddie are two things that usually have a record of not mixing well. Eddie can deal with chaotic. He can deal with crazy and hectic and adrenaline seizing his body during every call.

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the last shred of truth in the lost myth of true love

| buck/eddie, explicit, introspection, fwb, getting together (25k) |

Eddie wants to be supportive about this; really, he does.

===

the place in my heart that used to be yours

| buck/eddie, general, angst, bedside vigils, feelings realization (1.9k) |

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

===

temptation comes from wants we cannot yet claim

| buck/eddie, teen, angst, coma, getting together, dream (8k) |

There’s a soft feeling that gradually, from the depths of Eddie’s chest, finds itself being emerged as he’s eased awake. The slumber makes its way out of his body in a slow, methodical pull. It makes no rush to leave, allowing Eddie to enjoy the gentle serenity that the early morning still has to offer.

===

our sweet love (built on the unspoken things)

| buck/eddie, 5+1, getting together, mutual pining, non-sexual intimacy (8k) |

Eddie isn’t really sure he could really classify himself as a coffee person.

===

five more minutes

| buck/eddie, established relationship, snuggle, morning cuddles (2k) |

Eddie really wishes he could learn how to properly sleep in. To lie in bed, asleep without a care on a weekend like this, and wake up sometime past 9 o’clock. To him, ‘sleeping in’ has always been whenever he finds himself the luxury of having to wake up anytime past 5:45 am, but today, like most days, his inner body clock works against him. Even without his alarm, Eddie found himself easing out of slumber, the world around him growing more present and alert as the sleep rolled off his shoulders.

===

jadeite hearts could never cost this much

| buck/eddie, first kiss, sharing a bed, non-sexual intimacy (6k) |

If Eddie is being completely honest with himself, he has definitely thought about kissing Buck a couple of times before (maybe more than a couple if he’s being generous). He can’t exactly pinpoint when he started doing it; there’s no definitive moment that set it all off. Just one day, he had found himself staring off at Buck’s lips, transfixed on a phantom feeling that he could only dream to experience. His mind drifted, wondering what it would feel like, how soft Buck’s lips would be, where exactly he’d place his hands. It had taken an embarrassing couple of minutes before he had caught himself, only then realizing the severity of the situation and what that meant.

===

t-rex kisses

| buck/eddie, established relationship, late night conversations, non sexual intimacy (1.7k) |

Buck loves his job. Undeniably so. It’s probably one of, if not the best, things that’s ever happened to him, and he could never imagine life without it. It’s brought him so many amazing things in his life now: belonging, safety, love, a place to call home, people to call family, and in recent developments- the newfound love of his life.

===

exactly what you were looking for

| buck/eddie, domestic fluff, established relationship, marriage proposal (3k) |

Eddie is 6 years old, sitting in Adriana’s room, watching as his older sister plays with her Barbies without a care in the world, when in the smallest, most curious voice, he asks, “How do you know when you’ve found your true love?”

===

it’s super interesting to see my little habits all laid out like this! obviously i might have a preference on pov 😅 but i love doing little character introspections or even just random little factoids i later dive into- this is very fun!!

tagging- @eddiebabygirldiaz @hippolotamus @kitteneddiediaz @aroeddiediaz @wildlife4life and anyone else interested!!

#911 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #zestywrites

[kikiiswashere]

Children of Zaun - Chapter 21

Pairing: Silco/Fem!OC

Rating: Explicit

Story Warnings: Canon typical violence, drug use/dealing, dark themes, smut

Chapter Summary: Katya teaches Silco the crawl. When they go their separate ways for the evening, each wishes they hadn't.

Special Note: Many, many thanks to @sand-sea-and-fable for being my swim expert and beta-ing that part of this chapter ❤️

Chapter CW: Masturbation and sex dreams, MDNI

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 8K

“Ya don’ think it sounds too threatening?” Vander asked, eyes glossing over the note again.

We are the Children of Zaun

Consider the coin the beginning of your reparations

We are the Children of Zaun

We are The Storm’s Fury

And we demand freedom.

“Sure makes a statement, doesn’ it?” Benzo said, glancing over his friend’s shoulder. He didn’t seem convinced either.

Silco stared at them from across Vander’s kitchen table, his fists gripping the back of a chair, cigarette dangling from his sneering lips.

“We are not going to ask nicely for our freedom. We are not going to ask for it at all.”

“’M not sayin’ we gotta go in with ‘pretty pleases’ n’ the like,” Vander sighed, setting the paper down. “’M just sayin’ is it wise to be so aggressive off the mark?”

“They are not going to believe that the airship crash was an accident. They are going to come at us with their teeth. They need to know we have our own,” Silco retorted. “That we won’t be pushed around any longer.”

His eyes went to the clock on the wall, and he pushed off the chair. Plucking the cigarette from his mouth, he crushed it into the ashtray at the table’s center.

“You goin’ somewhere?” Vander asked, eying the sudden movement.

“Kat wants to show me something. I’m supposed to go meet her.”

“Showin’ ya? What’s she showin’ ya?”

Silco averted his gaze as he said, “She’s going to teach me a few swimming strokes.”

Benzo guffawed. “Where? It’s bloody cold out.”

“Apparently there are some hot springs near those lagoons that kids like to play at. The ones between Zaun and Topside,” Silco explained blandly, going to gather his bag by the door. Katya had instructed him to pack a towel and dry change of clothes. “Besides, I need to give her the coin.”

At the top of their meeting, Silco had proposed the Children spare a negligible percentage of their recent treasure to Katya, so she could afford Viktor’s higher tuition rate for the upcoming semester. Vander and Benzo had agreed without a second thought.

Brothers and Sisters looked out for each other after all.

They all knew this would not be a long-term solution; and they all privately hoped that by the next time Viktor’s tuition fee came around, that their cause was far enough along that Piltover was agreeing to fully foot the bill.

Vander frowned. “Sil, I think we need to talk about this message some more. What if Piltover comes down hard on us?”

Silco slung his bag across his back, a hand patting protectively at the pocket that held the sack of gold.

“When have they ever come down easy on us? The only thing that will change is that they will now know there is a concentrated effort on getting their bootheels off us. Send the message.”

With that, he slipped out of the room. Benzo sighed and sat heavily next to Vander.

“What a fuckin’ prick.”

“He’s not wrong, I suppose,” Vander murmured, looking at the message. “No matter how we word it, Topside’ll still come after us. Best they know we’ll meet ‘em head on.”

His eyes drifted back to where Silco had been, his stomach knotting.

Silco stalked down the hall and through The Last Drop’s backdoor. He and Katya were meeting at the Bridgewaltz. The location was central enough, and made more sense than meeting at either of their homes.

When he arrived, it was mostly deserted. Which was to be expected in the early-afternoon; the Waltz did not burst to life until very late in the evening, Zaunites and Topsiders alike milling about the colorful streets taking in everything the Undercity had to offer: Crispy and well-spiced street food, boisterous musicians, and clever artisans with their unique wares.

But there was awhile before such nightly festivities began. Now, a few slow-moving, but dedicated, proprietors tended to the upkeep of their booths and stalls. A few Zaunites were hunched over tables or countertops, having fallen asleep the night before and had been deemed too troublesome to try and shoo away.

“Silco.”

He spun to see Katya strolling down a slim corridor of colorful awnings. She smiled brightly at him and adjusted the bag slung over her shoulder. His lips quirked and heart pattered at the sight of her; relieved and happy. Despite her invitation, he had been concerned that what had happened in the airship – how yet another thing did not go to plan – would scare her away from the Children. From him. But it had not, and he found himself inordinately relieved.

She wore her usual long, too-big charcoal coat and her hair fell loose around her shoulders. As she passed under a string of chem-bulbs, he noticed a flash of rosy gold undertones to her locks. He felt compelled to reach out to run his fingers through the strands to find that hue again.

Instead, he tightened the grip he had on his own bag, and nodded at her in greeting.

“Are you ready?” she asked, skirting around a vendor’s table to him.

“I believe so,” he said, jostling his pack. “Lead the way.”

They walked together through the Bridgewaltz, the winding alleys and gangways of the Lanes, and a short section of the Promenade before heading toward the Oases. The sun gleamed on the Promenade stones and the pair squinted against it as they traveled. Despite the brightness, the chill in the air was persistent, a promise of the cold season arriving shortly. A few shops they passed were even beginning the process of decorating for Snowdown. Business owners had threaded ribbons of gold and silver over window boxes and door lintels. A few storefronts boasted colorful paper garlands and delicate, star-shaped string lights. A few shop owners they passed were swapping details and ideas of impending holiday sales.

Before long, Katya led them down a steep rickety staircase that ended abruptly. She had always assumed that the builder had gotten fed up with trying to navigate and place the iron posts and steps over the uneven and sandy rocks, and had just given up halfway down the embankment. It would be easier and faster to travel down to the small rivulets that would lead to the Oases with Silco than it was with Viktor. She had nearly forgotten how quickly the landscape could be traversed. They walked along the bank of the largest tributary, mindful of the runoff trickling down from the sewer outlets that peppered the stone walls that rose above them.

“How did you learn about these hot springs?”

Katya shrugged. “My parents always took me to them. I do not know how they discovered them.”

As they neared the larger lagoons of the Oases, the sounds of screeching and laughing children overtook the noise of the gently running water. The pair spied a gaggle of scrawny Undercity youths scampering along the banks of the largest lagoon. It was too cold to swim, but that did not stop the children from investigating the shoreline, or skipping rocks. Katya was certain she spied a couple of Sevika’s sisters, but made no mention of it.

“This way,” she said as they approached a fork in the small river.

She veered right and Silco followed. The sandstone pressed in, narrowing the chasm they traveled, until a cave mouth yawned open and Silco took in this little secret of Zaun. The cavern itself did not seem particularly deep; the sun was able to illuminate most of the rocks and steaming, turquoise pools within the cave’s maw.

“Does anyone ever come here?”

Katya shook her head. “I have never seen anyone else here.”

She leapt down from a rock and stepped into the warm cave, swinging her sack from around her shoulders and dumping it to the ground. Silco remained at the mouth of the cavern, eying the glistening pools within apprehensively.

“It will be difficult to learn how to swim on dry land.”

Silco started, and looked down to Katya. She lifted her thick eyebrows and grinned at him.

“I won’t let you drown,” she said. “I promise.”

Silco returned her smile and followed her into the cave.

It was balmy. The heat of the water swirling around them in clouds of steam. The air smelled of the tang of minerals and wet sand. Katya knelt down and opened her sack, pulling out a large, fraying towel. She sat on it and began unlacing her boots. Silco began doing the same. When she stood, he looked up at her in slight confusion, but the question died on his tongue as she began unbuttoning her pants.

She noticed his wide-eyes and uncharacteristically stupefied face, and explained, “It will be easier to learn without soaked through clothes. Just in our underthings. Is that alright?”

Silco nodded. “Yes, that’s fine.”

He casually looked away as she slid the trousers down her legs. He felt a warmth blooming inside him that had nothing to do with the springs. He began to follow suit, writing off the tremor in his fingers as a need for a cigarette. When she shed her shirt, leaving her only clad in underwear, a camisole, and a brassiere, he bit the inside of his lip. He kicked his trousers off and stood, and unclasped the hooks that held his shirt in place before peeling it from his back. He tossed it next to his bag and tried to stand as nonchalantly as he could, dressed only in his thin undershorts. His pale skin was turning pink, and he prayed that she thought it was only because of the cave’s warmth and humidity.

Katya began braiding her hair, and glanced him over once. Twice. And then at his head.

“Would you like a hair tie?”

Silco’s hands flew to his lanky hair and pet at it. He looked to the water, and then back to Katya. “Will one help?”

She shrugged. “It might. Hold on.”

She bent over to dig through her bag, and despite everything inside him begging him not to, he eyed the curve of her wide hips and swell of her ass. She rose again and handed him a small elastic band.

“Here.”

He mumbled a thank you and began pulling his hair back as Katya headed to the nearest spring. She delicately jumped in, the water rippling and gently splashing around her body. A soft, pleased groan blew from her lips as her muscles were wrapped in warmth. The pool only came up to her chest and she dipped beneath the surface, wetting her hair. As she came back up, she wiped her bangs from her eyes, and looked back to the edge of the pool. Where Silco stood, waiting for instructions.

She noticed his slender body in a way she hadn’t during that initial physical. Slightly broad shoulders and chest that tapered to a very narrow waist; his muscle sat tightly against his bones, the cut and shape of them becoming more apparent as sweat and moisture collected on his skin. He had very little body hair. A small, light smattering across the planes of his chest and a thin line that began beneath his navel and disappeared under the waistline of his shorts. Her gaze lifted back to his face, the angles of his cheekbones and nose more apparent now that his dark hair was swept back into a messy knot. Lean, elegant, and magnetic she thought.

Beautiful.

Katya nearly choked at the word as it flashed through her mind. She played it off and jerked her head back, beckoning him.

“Come on. Hop in. The water is far better than the Pilt.”

Silco toed the pool’s lip for a moment more before jumping in. He created a larger wake than Katya did, and she laughed at the small waves that splashed at her.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, stepping forward, cutting his sinewy arms through the water.

Wiping the water from her eyes, she chuckled, “It is fine. I’m already wet anyway.”

Silco gave her an apologetic grin as his feet and toes squeezed and gripped the uneven rock beneath them, feeling the slight slick of algae that grew there. There were nerves coiling his stomach. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself. In general. And not in front of her.

“What’s first?” he asked, infusing his tone with a confident, blasé bravado.

“Well, since you can already not drown,” she cheekily said, “I figured we would just focus on a more efficient technique.”

First, Katya took him through a few arm and shoulder warm ups, and mobility exercises: instructing him through shoulder rolls, chest and back stretches. She mimed the crawl stroke she was preparing to teach him by throwing her arms into the air in controlled, alternating sweeps. He did his best to copy her. And to not feel foolish.

“Keep your arm in its socket,” she told him, stepping over and gently adjusting his right shoulder down, away from his ear. “Use the muscles in your back, not your ligaments and tendons, to reach and pull.”

She touched the muscles in the center of his upper back and at his sides in direction. Silco adjusted his technique.

“The arm that is drawing back, bend its elbow more,” she added as he mimed the movement again. “It is called the crawl, yes? Imagine that you actually pulling yourself through something. Like this.”

She turned her back to him and did the stroke into the air, making a point to exaggerate pulling back through her elbows. He watched the slight rotation of her wrists and hands as she went, as if she were pushing material out of the way. He watched the way her back muscles moved. How the band of her brassiere strained under her camisole.

Katya turned to face him again, and gestured for him to try. He obliged and she nodded at his technique. She then explained the breathing pattern for the crawl: to turn his head in the same direction the arm sweeping back.

“Both sides?”

“Typically, yes. But you may find it easier to just turn your head to your dominant side for now. You’ll get a feel for it once you start swimming. You use your left hand, yes?”

Something pleased fluttered inside Silco that she knew that. He nodded.

“Good. Now, I want you to use your arms like that and swim the length of this pool,” she said, walking over to one end.

Silco looked at her, then to the spring’s opposite end. It wasn’t too long; maybe forty feet.

Slowly, he waded across the pool to her side. She gave him an encouraging smile, and he rolled his shoulders before launching forward into the warm water. Shifting the movement he’d just learned to a horizontal position was harder than he anticipated. His arms didn’t feel as strong and his lower body kept sinking, despite kicking furiously. Every time he turned his head to breathe, not only did he get a mouthful of air, but water splashed in, too.

Finally, his fingers scraped against the ledge of the pool’s far side and he stood up, panting. He looked down at the ledge, and then turned to look at Katya at the other end of the pool. The water between them was frothing and choppy, but she gave him an encouraging smile.

“Not bad,” she called. “Now, come back.”

Silco heeded her instruction and attempted the crawl again as he swam back. He was huffing and puffing by the time he returned to Katya’s side.

“I don’t know why,” he gasped, “but I did not think it would be so tiring.”

She smirked up at him. “Swimming is a different beast from roof running. It probably doesn’t help that you smoke, either.”

He recalled her final comment that night he had shown her Zaun.

You shouldn’t smoke, anyway. It’s bad for you, too.

He slyly grinned back at her, and purred, “I am allowed a vice. Piltover has made life hellish enough to deny ourselves any small pleasures. I’m sure once I get this stroke down, I’ll swim just as fast as you. Perhaps faster – “

Katya snorted, throwing her head back. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Silco shrugged cockily before diving back into the water and practicing again. After a few more laps, he began to get a better handle of how to move his arms and neck, his stroke pattern becoming smoother, surer. Slowly, he began cutting through the water instead of splashing against it.

“Very good,” Katya congratulated once he returned to her side again. “I think it is time to talk about hips and legs.” She turned to the pool’s edge and placed her hands on a relatively level slab of rock. “One of the reasons your lower half is sinking is because you are kicking too much with your knees. You will swim faster and more efficiently if you keep your legs straighter and kick from your hips.”

She kept her hands on the rock, and allowed the rest of her body to float up in the water. Her rear breached the surface, and Silco fought not to stare. She made a point to flex and straighten her shapely legs and kicked. Despite the movement, very little water was splashed up. Silco scooted down the edge of the rock a bit to find his own level piece. Once he was set up, he kicked his lower half up to the surface. Very ungracefully. His jaw squeezed and brow furrowed as he did his best to lengthen his legs taut and access his hips.

“It is a balance,” Katya explained, stepping over to him. “Straight legs, yes. But allow there to be a little give in your knees so that they remain soft.”

“So keep my legs straight. But don’t keep my legs straight.”

Katya smirked and shrugged. “Viktor can do it. And his bones are warped. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Silco huffed and tried again. It was challenging, but eventually he got it enough that Katya didn’t need to keep reminding him.

“Do not swish your hips so much,” she said, reaching out and gently touched the top of his hipbone.

The feeling of her fingertips on him caused Silco to jolt and stop swimming. He spun to look at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she gasped, hand pulling back. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay. I just – I just wasn’t expecting it.” He smiled reassuringly at her. “What did you say?”

“You are rotating through your hips too much. It’ll make you tired. Keep your hips steady. The rotation comes from your back. Remember? From the crawl stroke itself.”

Silco tried again, imagining that an iron beam holding his hips in place. A couple times, Katya reminded him to keep his knees and feet a touch softer. As she watched him, her eyes squinted and she brought the tips of her fingers to her temple.

“What?” he asked, pausing to catching his breath.

“I am trying to think of another way to explain,” she sighed. “Have you ever seen people on the Promenade ride . . . I think they are called Bi-sickles, or something? A metal frame with two wheels on either end?”

“Bicycles. Yeah. I’ve seen them.”

“Okay, well, the leg movement is not dissimilar. Steady hips, strong glutes and thighs propelling the motion, but some soft give from the knees down. Does that make sense?”

Silco pondered for a moment, thinking on the Topside youths he’d seen racing their toys through the Promenade streets. He recalled how their legs pumped their mode of transportation, strong and efficient strokes that powered the bicycle to impressive speeds. He nodded and tried again.

After several minutes, she suggested he put the two together and try swimming another few laps of the pool. Silco rolled his shoulders and shook his legs out a bit before venturing back into the middle of the water and piecing together what he had learned.

Just as before, it took him a couple laps to achieve smooth movements. Once he found a rhythm, he felt like a harpoon slicing through the water, especially compared to how he felt in the Pilt a few days ago. After his tenth lap, he stopped for a break at the far end and turned to look at Katya. His heart tapped firmly against his breastbone to see her beaming at him. Her skin was glistening from the warmth and water, her cheeks rosy. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so pleased or carefree, and he was excited to think he was the source of her happiness in that moment.

Suddenly, Katya leapt forward and swam towards him, streaking through the water like a waverider. He hadn’t really paid attention the night they jumped from the airship, but she moved seamlessly – as if she became one with the water. It didn’t froth around her limbs, just rippled in smooth wakes. It seemed as easy as breathing for her. Despite the improvements he had made to his own abilities, he knew he floundered like a beached fish in comparison.

She appeared at his side, that sun-bright smile still on her face.

“Race?”

Silco stared at her for a moment, his eyes glancing down to her smile, then his own split across his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had ‘played’ – had had unproductive fun. He was sure Katya felt the same.

“Prepare to eat my wake, Kat.”

Katya did not eat Silco’s wake. Quite the opposite. He struggled to keep up, but laughed at his own ineptitude in the water. Although, the more and more laps they swam, the surer in his skills he became. Katya told him his slight build would work to his advantage, something he quietly preened at because he never considered his physicality being an advantage for much.

Eventually they tired, and lifted themselves from the pool. They spread their towels over the cave floor and sat, allowing their bodies to rest and dry off. Silco did his best to avoid staring at Katya, at the way her wet clothes had sheered from the water and now clung to her body. A heat that had nothing to do with the hot springs spread through him.

To distract himself, he fished an apple and a small knife from his bag. He cut a slice and handed it to her. Katya stared at the offering for a moment, stunned, before taking it.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, because that it what you said when someone gave you something.

Unsettled warmth bloomed across her chest as she bit down on it in a satisfying crunch. It had been a long while since she had had a bite of apple. It had been a long while that someone had provided for her. She wondered if she would ever get used to being thought of, sought after, taken care of, considered. Silco’s companionship felt as much of a treat like this apple.

The fruit was crisp, juicy, and sweet against her tongue. As it broke down in her mouth, and the sweet sparked into surprising notes of tangy sour, compulsory sadness curled in her stomach; that her experience of the treat was nearing its end. Then her eyes fell onto the fruit by Silco’s pointed knee, and realized she could have more. That one bite was only the first. Her mouth watered and stomach rumbled.

“I brought some bread, too. One of mum’s reject loaves.”

Katya’s eyes flicked up to his face. Why had she gone so long denying herself of company? Denying her own needs? Pointedly skirting the care and lives of others? If she had kept to her solitary way, she would not have this apple, this bread. This man, and his caring mother.

“How is she?”

Silco’s nostrils curled. He cut his own slice of apple and ate it. He shrugged.

“Like she said, it always gets bad this time of year.”

Katya’s eyes softened, empathy and sadness leaching out the joy that had lit them up.

“She is probably due for another vial of medicine,” she said. “I will grab one when I am at the clinic.”

Silco gave her a weak smile and retrieved the lumpy loaf of bread from his bag. He tore a piece off and handed it to her. She took it and held it in her hands, thinking of how she might smooth out the lines that had appeared on Silco’s face at the mention of Enyd. How she might dampen the small flame of ire that had appeared in his eyes, and rekindle the joy that had been there earlier.

“I am glad I got to show you this place,” she decided on, looking up at the stalactites on the cave’s ceiling. “As grateful as I am that only Viktor and I seem to be the ones to ever come here, it’s so beautiful that I feel badly for it that so few people visit. Know about it.”

Silco hummed, biting down on a piece of bread and looking around at the cave. It’s towers and divots. At the lush moss and algae that collected at its mouth, and hung down from its opening like a shredded curtain.

“This is where your parents taught you how to swim?”

Katya shook her head. “No. I learned in the Oases. Like a lot of the children do now. When it came time to teach Viktor, his body did not handle the cool water well, so Papa taught him here. Being in the water also helps relieve some of the chronic aches he has in his body.”

“How did your father find this place?” Silco asked, looking around again.

“I never thought to ask. I wish I had now. He used to talk about taking me and Viktor out on a boat someday. To explore the Conqueror’s Sea.”

“It sounds like he had an affinity for water.”

Katya chuckled and took a bite of bread. “I suppose he did, now that you mention it. One of the books he would read to us most frequently had to do with ocean life. Various habitats, animal and plant life – that sort of thing.” She laughed and said, “My favorite chapter was about the deep sea, and all the monstrous creatures down there. It sort of reminded me of the Undercity. I found it fascinating, but I don’t think Viktor did.”

“How come?”

She shrugged. “He is more interested in building and creating things. He preferred when Papa read about inventions and why they worked. Engineering and chemistry and physics, and those sorts of things. Biology never grabbed him as tightly.”

“But it did you?” Silco asked, taking his knife to the apple again and slicing it twice. He handed one piece to her, and placed his own on his tongue.

Katya shrugged again and bit thoughtfully into the apple’s flesh, Silco’s eyes flicking down to her mouth as she did.

“I do find it interesting,” she said around the fruit in her mouth. “It certainly has served me well with my role at the clinic. And with caring for Viktor. And like I told you, I think I would like to become a doctor once Zaun is free. Once we have the ability to manage such things.”

“That reminds me,” Silco gasped, reaching for his bag. His hand gripped the small satchel of gold within and he drew it out. “Vander and I wanted you to have some of the coin from the airship job. To help with Viktor’s tuition next semester.”

He handed her the purse, and she slowly took it. Her eyes glossed over and became distant as she uncinched the bag’s mouth and peered inside. Gold glittered up at her. Katya sniffed and her throat squeezed tightly. She looked back up at him, and her heart cracked at the soft – almost adoring – smile on his face. She opened her mouth to thank him, but all that came out was a teary choke. Silco scooted over and wrapped his arm around her.

“I got you.”

Katya’s voice failed her again, and she simply leaned against him. She curled against his side; her face pressed into his neck. She nodded against it, overwhelmed and humbled by the sense of gratitude. Her body alight with the feeling of belonging. She felt treasured and valued.

She wasn’t able to speak, but as she closed her eyes and felt Silco’s jugular pulse against her cheek, she thought You have me.

Eventually, when the sun began to fade, they toweled off and redressed, preparing to head home. Katya wrapped the small bag of gold in her towel and shoved it deep within her sack. Despite the extra weight on her back, her heart felt easeful and light. The children that had been at the Oases were gone. Headed home for supper, or for work, or to nothing at all. Silco and Katya hopped onto the bottom step of the incomplete staircase and headed back into Zaun.

The Bridgewaltz was just beginning to brighten and stretch into its evening routine. The chem-bulbs above twinkled various colors, casting rainbow splotches on the pavement and across scattered tables and chairs. A few of the food stalls and kiosks already had customers gnawing at kebabs and drinking whatever brew was offered; the passed-out people Silco and Katya had seen earlier had since woken up and staggered off.

“Would you like me to walk you home?” Silco asked, as they came to a stop.

Katya looked up at him, voice stuck in her throat. The shadows and light did mesmerizing things to the angles of his face, and his pale eyes reflected the flickering magenta, orange, and green lights above.

Would she like? Would she want?

“That’s okay,” she finally answered. Her stomach curled in displeasure at her own words. “You should get home and check on your mother.”

Silco smiled and nodded. He ignored the pang of disappointment that flicked at his heart.

“Right, then,” he said, adjusting his bag. “I’ll see you soon. Yeah?”

Katya beamed up at him. Her milk-colored skin glowed in the colorful light, and Silco’s fingers twitched, fighting the urge to run them down her cheek.

“Yes. I will see you soon.”

“Thank you again for the lessons. For today.”

Something open, vulnerable, and wanting cracked behind Katya’s ribs, and she closed the distance between them, wrapping Silco in a tight embrace. He returned it with an immediacy that left his mind reeling and surprised. She felt warm and solid – not unlike that dream he had had the night he’d fought the enforcers. Turning his head slightly, he nestled his nose into the crook of her neck. The smell of brine, minerals, and warmth from the Springs was stuck to her.

“Thank you for today,” she whispered. “And for everything else.”

Katya gave him one last squeeze and drew back. Silco followed suit, his heart hammering against his chest.

“Walk home safe, Kat.”

“You, too.”

Silco watched her for a moment, before turning himself and walking home.

When he arrived at his and his mother’s apartment, it was quiet except for the warm, prickling drone of the phonograph needle swirling on a record that had finished playing. A singular light from the living room bled into the front hall. Silco quietly removed his boots, and set down his sack by the door before venturing further.

“Mum?” he called quietly, stepping into the living room.

Enyd was propped up in her rocking chair, a sewing project in her lap, her head lolled onto one shoulder, eyes closed. Her breath came in soft, long wheezes as she slept. Silco smiled tenderly at the sight and tip-toed to the phonograph, gently resetting the needle in its bed.

“Mum,” he said again, walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Mum.”

Enyd gently started under his touch and blinked awake.

“Wha? – Oh, Silco. You’re home. I – I didn’t realize that I fell asleep.”

She adjusted in her seat, the chair rocking slightly with her movement, and she peered down at the bundle of thread and fabric in her lap. An amused huff blew from her lips at the sight, and a string of dry coughs followed it. When they passed, she straightened her shoulders and looked up at her son with watery eyes.

“How did it go today?”

“It went well. Kat’s a good teacher. It was nice. Spending time with her. Mum, why don’t you go to bed if you’re tired?”

Enyd batted away his concern with a flick of her thin wrist. “I’m fine. I want to get this done before I turn in anyhow.” She gestured to the sewing project in her lap. “Would you mind starting the record again?”

Silco turned back to the phonograph and reset the needle. Soft, warbly music echoed from the soundhorn and Enyd hummed appreciatively, lifting the needle and thread back up to the light.

“I’m going to take a shower. Do you need anything?”

His mother shook her head. She smiled at him, and said, “I’m glad you got to do something light today. Fun. Joyful.”

Silco’s insides squeezed – with what, he wasn’t entirely certain – and softly smiled in agreement.

“Me too.”

With that, he headed to his bedroom, grabbed his pajamas, and then locked himself up in the bathroom. He turned the water in the tub on, holding one hand under the faucet, waiting for it to turn warm. When it did, he was surprised that he could feel the difference between this warm water and the stuff he’d been swimming in a few hours prior. He didn’t know water could feel different. Pulling the tee diverter, the shower head rumbled and spat to life. He quickly divested himself of his clothes; surprised when a flash of Kat in her wet underthings flickered in his mind. He swallowed, tossed the clothes into the hamper by the toilet, and stepped into the shower.

The warm water sluiced over his frame in vaguely relaxing rivulets. The sensation paled in comparison to the heat and comfort he’d found in the Springs. He’d found in the excited, pleased beam of Kat’s smile. Silco ran his fingers through his hair, unraveling any snags and snares he found. He closed his eyes as water ran down his face. The image behind his eyelids was that of Kat standing in the shallow end of the pool, water to her knees, her underwear, camisole, and brassiere wet and sticking to her body. Her skin glowed and shone with the warm mist of the cave. Silco sighed, and finally allowed himself to ruminate on what he’d seen while he lathered himself up with soap.

Like many trenchers, Katya’s body hungered, but it hadn’t kept her hips and breasts from filling out. His mind’s eye roved over her legs. Stopped, and stared at where her thighs thickened into the swell of her hips and ass. Salivated at how the damp sheerness of her underwear had allowed the suggestion of curls at the crux of her thighs –

Silco gasped as he brought the soap to his groin, and found himself half-hard. Balls beginning to lift and ache. For a moment, he considered turning the water to ice cold, to put a stop to this. But his hand made a cursory sweep down his length and the space behind his navel tightened with anticipation. With a plead.

Silco’s imagination took creative license, and the Kat behind his eyes shifted her expression to something sultrier. Hungrier. Her lashes sat low over her golden eyes – those mesmerizing gold eyes. Silco braced one hand against the shower wall, while the other took hold of him in earnest. Kat bit just the inside of her lower lip, and Silco worked himself to full hardness in steady strokes.

His mind’s eye traveled up the length of her torso, wondering what it would be like to touch (taste?) the delicate flesh that ebbed and flowed into that beautiful hourglass shape. Her breasts – their details and shape brought into stark relief by the wet, clingy fabric – were devastatingly heavy and ample. Her nipples had puckered and lifted. He wanted to touch them. Roll them into impossibly tight, pebbled peaks between his fingers. And then suck and bite at them. How she would writhe beneath his attention –

Silco’s breath hitched as a callous on his palm caught along his frenulum. He bit back a groan, grateful for the noise of the shower and the record playing in the other room. Despite those buffers, he choked back any vocalization that threatened to give him away.

The promising lift behind his navel was intensifying – little shimmers of pleasure licking up his spine. The squeeze of his pumping hand tightened, and the one bracing against the shower wall collapsed to its forearm. Silco’s forehead pressed against the meat of it. His eyes clamped shut as his mind shifted, giving form to tamped down fantasies and maddening questions.

What would those plush thighs feel like wrapped around his waist? Kat’s heels pressing into his tailbone as he fucked her –

A whimper vibrated off his lips. Despite the water, he could tell that his cock was leaking all over his hand.

How would she feel wrapped around him? Glorious, he knew. His fist would never be able to compare. Warm, soft, and slick. And tight. Would they fit together like puzzle pieces?

How would she look beneath him? On top of him? Looking over her shoulder at him? He imagined her mouth hanging open – her dusty pink lips turned red and kiss-swollen. Her intense, expressive brows pitching up in elation as she hurtled toward her release. Pleasure he’d brought her –

Silco’s hips bucked into his hand as his own climax neared. Those little laps and zips of pleasure he’d felt earlier grew into spine arching, toe curling flames as his fist became a blur around his cock.

How would Kat sound? How would that rolling, molasses-sweet accent sound in the throes of ecstasy? Would she mutter in her mother-tongue? Chant his name? Look him in the eye and say “You have me”? –

“Kat!” Silco rasped, unable to keep her name behind his teeth. And he came. Strong, pulsing spurts onto the shower wall that were promptly washed away by the water’s spray. His hand worked himself through each throb of his orgasm, until his body felt blissfully heavy on his skeleton and he leaned against the wall.

He stood there for a moment, the water beating against his back; residual glimmers of ecstasy shivering up and down his spine. He huffed and puffed, heart hammering and lungs swinging. He placed his left hand on his chest, and felt the steady percussive, beat within.

As the gooey, post-orgasm feeling draped over his body, Silco finished cleaning himself. And made a point to make sure the wall and floor of the shower was clean of any ‘sign’ of him, too. He dried off, dressed, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. All the while thinking on what he had done, and whom he’d thought of.

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling – one hand on his heart; the other tossed over his head – a lonely, wanting, foreign ache pressed into him. The sensation eased as he drifted to sleep and dreamt that Kat was curled against his side.

Katya glided through the dark, star-lit water of her dreamscape. Smooth, warm, and malleable. Like liquid glass. A few easy frog strokes propelled her forward, the water rippling gently. She wondered if she’d ever reach an edge here, if there would ever be something to grab hold of. Something to rest against, in case she ever tired.

“Kat.”

She gasped and sputtered. The water splashed as she spun. She’d never heard anything but her own breath here. The sound of her own body in the water. But now, a few feet behind her, there was a pale figure with lank dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Silco?”

He smiled at her. She realized how endearing – almost awkward – the fullness of it made him look. In life, he’d only ever smirked or grinned at her. Expressions that kept his coolness and distant persona intact, kept him at arm’s length from most people.

Now, he was beaming at her, and she was enthralled.

He paddled toward her. “Shall we?”

Katya blinked at him, and then she smiled in return. Laughing, they pressed forward into the endless space. Silco swam just about as well as he had at the Springs – not with the best form, water splattering about him. But neither cared. They moved together, Silco splashing at Katya; Katya dodging his sprays by elegantly flowing around him. Eventually, they tired enough to slow their pace, lazily floating along the surface. The stars sparkled and winked above them.

“Kat.”

This time he said her name softer, his tone lifting as if in question.

Katya stopped, her arms and legs barely needing to tread water to keep her upright. She looked at him, tilting her head in equal curiosity. He fixed her with an intense, earnest look that held her in place. An enticing heat banked behind his eyes, and he closed the small distance between them. One of his hands slipped up from the water and gently cradled her cheek. The etheric nature of the dreamscape made his touch feel ghost-like, a whisper of how his hand had felt in hers, but it made Katya’s breath hitch all the same. His thumb gently pressed against the beauty mark under her eye and dragged down. His blue eyes left her gold ones to flit down to her lips, and then back up. The look, the touch, sent a blaze through her body. As if her insides were a smoldering fire, and he was a great gust of wind, igniting her in a mighty WHOOSH!

Katya’s fiery heart thundered wildly in her chest as she leaned forward and kissed him. The hand on her cheek wrapped to hold the nape of her neck, and Silco’s other hand wound around her waist, drawing her flush against him. She gripped his shoulders and pressed her mouth more firmly against his, annoyed that the sensation of him was gauzy. She wanted to feel him, taste him.

She tilted her head and slid her tongue along the seam of his lips, pleading for access; hoping it would give her something more solid to experience. Silco obliged, his own tongue melding against hers. Katya squeezed her eyes tight as their tongues, teeth, and lips hungrily explored each other. For too brief of a moment, she thought she could taste cigarettes, thought she could smell that citrus tang and deep terra scent that had been on that shirt he’d given her.

Silco surged forward, his kisses a strange combination of intense and distant. Katya gripped at him, fingers digging into the slick and firm muscles of his shoulders and back. She gasped when her own backside pressed against something solid. Somehow, for the first time, she was able to feel an edge to this dreamworld. She couldn’t see it, only feel it. Silco’s right hand pressed into the starry surface next to her head, his breath a mere suggestion against her warm, damp skin. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against hers, the blade of his nose caressing her cheek. The inferno within Katya’s belly blazed for him. Her body ached, breasts heavy and heaving, core throbbing.

“Kat,” Silco breathed, pressing against her.

“Yes.” Katya’s breath came in shaky, pleading huffs.

Her legs lifted in the water and wrapped around his hips, drawing him closer. There was a probing pressure at her aching center and a desperate, excited cry pealed from her throat.

The exclamation woke Katya up. She jerked awake in her bed, back arching, breathing erratic. Initially, she was confused, borderline distraught. As her vision cleared and she took in the dark, empty space of her bedroom, she understood what had happened.

She was home.

Alone.

Disappointment settled in her stomach, lead-heavy and cold. Despite this, the ache between her thighs persisted; annoyed at being left unattended.

Katya steeled her jaw and turned onto her side, eyes closing, determined to just go to bed. She would inspect that dream in the morning. Or maybe she wouldn’t. It was only a dream after all.

However, her body refused to fall into stillness and slumber. Her mind swam with images and sense-memories of Silco. His intense gaze, low, syrupy voice; his lithe frame, how his hands had felt in hers, how his hands might feel on her body. Holding her in place, exploring . . .

Katya grunted and turned again, her core reverberating with a nearly painful, needy pulse. Her nipples were pointed and tight beneath the shirt she wore. His shirt. She laid still for a moment, considering. Finally, her fingers skirted across the gusset of her underwear in an exploratory swipe. Her body shuddered at the light touch and she gasped to find the garment soaked.

She decided to not think too hard about it, nor deny her bodily desire any longer. In quick, furious movements, she stripped her underwear down her legs and kicked them off, sending them somewhere deep within the folds of her blanket. Her hand was quick to cup herself, and an intense and relieved sound was pressed out of her lungs.

Her hips lifted into the heel of her hand as her index and middle fingers swiped lightly through her slit, gathering and coating them in her arousal. Slowly, she dipped them inside. A gasp left her, her back arched, her free hand reached for the pillow above her head and gripped it tightly. She was overwhelmed by how warm, wet, and ready she felt. Burying her fingers inside her felt relieving and maddening. Her body grateful that it was being touched, but desperately wanting more. Needing release.

Her fingers began to pump in and out, the heel of her hand trying to rub against her clit. Pleasure ebbed and swelled inside her, promising tickles fluttering behind her navel, up and down her spine. Images flashing through her mind provided titillating inspiration that drove her further and further into carnal need.

The shape of Silco’s member; she’d sneaked a peek of him when his shorts were wet and clinging to it earlier that day. Her fingers couldn’t compare.

The way Silco’s muscles moved over his body as he swam.

Silco’s head between her thighs, those piercing eyes watching her intently.

Silco’s hands grabbing needily at her thighs and hips as he rut against her.

 Katya’s body shook hopefully at the thought, her fingers pumping faster, the heel of her hand desperately wriggling against her apex. A whimper trickled from her mouth between ragged breaths. Despite the pleasure building within her, entangling her low spine in teasing tendrils, she needed more. The hand gripping the pillow snaked itself under her shirt, squeezing and pinching at the peak of her breast. A hiss whistled through her clenched teeth, her body writhing.

It wasn’t enough.

She rolled onto her stomach, pinning the hand working at her between her soaked sex and the mattress. Her hips humped and ground into her palm. The position, aided by her weight and gravity, offered deeper, sweeter sensations the ability to curl and build. Katya gasped and cried into the pillow, her legs propelling her hips into her hand hurriedly, the movement not dissimilar to the firelight swim stroke.

“Si – Sil – “

Katya’s breath hitched into a new tempo as her body rapidly approached the peak of her climax. Her toes curled, the soles of her feet flexing in anticipation; thighs and hips quivering.

“P-please. Oh, Gods. S – “

She moaned loudly into her pillow as she crested her release; hips pulsing and grinding over her hand of their own volition, chasing her high, squeezing every last drop of pleasure out of it. Eventually the sensation ebbed away, leaving Katya wrung out, and panting. Slowly, she withdrew her hand from herself and carefully stretched her legs out, rocking her hips side-to-side experimentally.

While she felt satisfied on an animalistic level, as the heavy blanket of sleep began to lay over her, the feeling of loneliness crept back in. Into her chest. Into her bed.

The sleep she was granted was dreamless.

Notes: Ahhhhh! These crazy, pining kids! When will they *actually* make it happen?? Soon hopefully 😈 I hope you enjoyed the start of some smutty-smut! I was really happy to finally get to this point in the story 😅 What do you think? Let me know your thoughts! Please comment and reblog ❤️ Til next time, my sweets!

Coming Up Next: Piltover's answer to the Children's declaration, Zaun prepares for the Snowdown holidays, and Kells attempts a monsterous act.

Next Chapter

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#children of zaun #coz #arcane #arcane fanfic #silco #vander #benzo #young silco #young vander #young benzo #original character #silco x oc #silco x katya #silkat #smut #mdni #silco fanfic

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Alright! The next chapter of 'tis the damn season is finished, clocking in around 8K words (unedited). Unfortunately, I finished just in time to have to get ready for a work morale events I'm throwing - yay Dave & Busters!

The plan is to run through the edits tonight and post either tonight or tomorrow evening, depending on how late I finish.

In the mean time, these are the songs I was listening to while writing:

Soon You’ll Get Better by Taylor Swift

Grow as We Go by Ben Platt

Hopelessly Devoted To You (cover) by Daisy Clark

Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing (cover) by Blame Jones

Sun to Me by Zach Bryan

There were a lot of Anyone But You gifs that helped write this chapter, but this one did a lot of heavy lifting...

#'tis the damn season fic