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crazyunsexycool · 17 days

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My Little Love

Chapter 34

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warning: fake medical scenario (you'll see), So much fluff, this is so fluffy!!!!!

A/N: If you haven't done so I suggest reading this ONE SHOT before you read the chapter because it will be referenced in the chapter. All I can say is that I hope you guys like this chapter...

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Bucky sat completely still. He only moved or answered questions when he was told he could do so. The people he was with were bossy and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Bucky had no choice but to comply.

“Deep breath.”

Bucky takes a deep slow breath.

“Say ‘aahh’”

“Aaahhhhh.”

“I’ve found the issue.”

“What is it doc?” Bucky asks worriedly.

“You have a cat in your belly.”

“A cat? That’s not possible.”

“We’re gonna have to remove it. Nurse, get the patient ready.”

“Kay.”

Bucky tried to not laugh as Henry and Lottie played doctor with him being their only patient.

“Be a good boy, dada.” Lottie pats Bucky’s cheek.

“Please lay down, sir.” Henry instructs and points at the couch. “Baby it’s not dada, it’s sir.” He whispers to Lottie.

Bucky does as he’s told and gets comfortable on the couch. Lottie stands by his head and takes the toy stethoscope that had been resting around her neck and checks his heart.

“Is stwong, dada.” She says, referring to his heartbeat.

“It’s sir.”

“It’s dada.” Lottie sends Henry a pointed look, hoping he would drop it.

Ever since you started working exclusively at the medbay the kids had been fascinated with the idea. They still didn’t like the actual hospital portion of the tower you worked on but they liked visiting your office. In an effort to show them what you did, you got a toy medical kit and explained what everything was. You even used Bucky as a patient and showed them what you did with each item. Now they loved playing hospital. Unfortunately for Bucky he was usually their patient and Henry and Lottie loved to play for hours. They even switched on who got to play doctor and nurse.

“Habe to gibe shot dada. Be bwave.” Lottie says before giving him a so-called shot with the fake syringe from the play kit.

“Wow nurse, you’re so good at that. I didn’t even feel it.”

Lottie smiles as she places a pink princess bandaid on Bucky’s metal arm. Then she leans in and places a kiss on top.

“Is bettuh.”

“Definitely but,” Bucky fakes a yawn. “I’m so sleepy now.”

“Quick nurse, we have to get the cat out now.”

Both kids ran around giggling and supposedly performing surgery. Bucky just laid back with a smile on his face as he listened to Henry and Lottie talk amongst themselves.

You walked in just as Henry was holding Alpine above Bucky’s belly. Lottie was pretending to listen to Bucky’s heart again.

“Is good.”

“Sir, everything was a success.” Henry informs Bucky.

“What is going on here?”

Both Henry and Lottie turn their heads to you. They start laughing when you narrow your eyes at them and then they run off.

“I had a cat in my belly, apparently.” Bucky explains. “They were removing it.”

“Oh. Well I’m glad they caught it on time, you know, before Alpine had kittens in there.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but chuckles. He opens his arms as you walk over to him, inviting you to cuddle with him on the couch. You gladly accept and lay over him. Bucky pulls you closer and you sigh once you’re comfortable.

“Bad shift?” He murmurs.

“Kind of.”

“I heard about the agents that came back.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. They’re hanging in there but it’s very touch and go at the moment.” You sigh as Bucky moves his hand up and down your back. His body heat and soothing movement are slowly lulling you to sleep.

“They’ll pull through. I mean they have you taking care of them.” Bucky says but doesn’t get a response. He shifts a little and realizes you’re already asleep.

Henry and Lottie walk back into the living room to find their parents cuddled up. When Bucky sees them he presses a finger to his mouth so they know to be quiet. Henry nods and runs off, coming back a few seconds later with a blanket he drapes over your sleeping form. He even places a gentle kiss on your cheek, which Lottie repeats. They leave the living room quietly and head to their shared room to continue playing.

Bucky kept his arms around you and couldn’t help but think that this was heaven. He could hear the kids playing and laughing in their room. He also enjoyed your weight on him as you napped. Lottie’s question kept playing in his mind over and over. Bucky already had a plan; he was just waiting for the right day to do it. But the more he thought about marrying you the more excited he got about finally asking you. So the moment you woke up he’d start actually planning the proposal. Everything would be perfect for you, it’s what you deserved.

For the past two weeks Bucky had been acting weird. He was secretive and jumpy whenever you walked into a room. He’d always give you a lopsided smile but his eyes looked slightly panicked. Like he was about to get caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Half of you found it funny but the other half was curious as to what was going on. Whenever you’d ask he acted like he had no clue what you were talking about. You wanted to laugh, he made the same face Charlotte and Henry did when they were caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing.

“You should never play poker.” You tell Bucky while stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. He had been in the living room typing away on his phone when you found him.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re being very secretive.”

“Again, no idea what you’re talking about.” Bucky shrugs.

“Alright then, keep your secrets.”

His eyes narrow and lips part slightly. “Did you just quote the Lord of the Rings?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bucky chuckled. “Fine, I might be planning a surprise. But that’s all I’m saying.”

“A surprise? When do I get to see this surprise?”

“Soon. Now, I love you very much and I love being with you but you have to go.”

“Fine. I’ll go. I have plans with the kids anyways.”

Bucky gives you a kiss and gently pushes you out of the living room before grabbing his phone again. Everything was almost ready, he just had to finish writing out what he wanted to tell you.

It was time.

Bucky had chosen what he thought was the perfect date, the day Charlotte was found. He had help from everyone to get this right. There was nothing that made him more nervous in his life than this but it was the good kind.

With Wanda, Nat and Sofia’s help he bought you a red dress and accessories. The dress was similar to the one you’d worn on your first date. They’d also help you get ready. Molly and Luke had agreed to watch Lottie and Henry. Clint had advised Bucky to just speak from the heart. Steve had been so giddy that Bucky had to keep reminding him to not accidentally say anything. Sam wouldn’t stop teasing Bucky but it was all in good fun. Tony was of course Tony and said he had a surprise of his own if you’d say yes to Bucky. Bruce, Josh and Vision had congratulated him and kept Steve busy. Eddie was the last person Bucky spoke to right before the date. Eddie gave him some much needed fatherly advice.

And it would be, it had to be.

****

You’d taken his breath away when you walked out of your shared bedroom. The dress he’d chosen fit you like a glove but that shouldn’t have been a surprise, Bucky knew your body well. He looked just as handsome in his suit and white button up shirt. The top two buttons were open and his hair was styled to perfection. As soon as you were close enough Bucky pulled you into his arms.

“Absolutely beautiful. What did I do to get so lucky?” He asks before placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Me? What about you? You look very handsome.”

“Stop.” Bucky blushes but can’t hide his smile. “We should go or we’ll be late.”

“Ok. Lead the way.”

Bucky pulls away but takes your hand and heads out of the apartment. He was so nervous and as the elevator took you both down to the private garage he kept going over his plan. Bucky knew everyone was already where they needed to be. All he had to do now was get you there.

You were confused when Bucky pulled up to the compound. Tony had said that the renovations had been completed and that soon enough it would be up and running at full capacity. It still didn’t explain what you were doing there now when you should be on a date.

“I’m sorry Sugar, I should’ve told you I had to stop by before we went on our date.” Bucky says as he opens your door. “It’ll be quick I promise.”

“Ok.” You said softly as you looked around.

It felt like a lifetime ago the last time you were here. That last day at the compound started the three worst months of your life. Being back felt surreal. You decided to wait outside for Bucky. From where you stood you could make out the small playground the kids used daily, the training grounds you’d use with future agents and the area that Tony loved to use for outdoor events.

“Agent Y/L/N?” A security guard called you. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too, Smith.” You smile.

“This is for you.”

He hands you a piece of paper and walks off before you could ask him anything. Opening the note you saw Bucky’s handwriting asking you to meet him at the main hangar. You were growing more confused by the second. Still you headed into the main building to meet Bucky.

At the door you find a sign that says ‘wait here’. You do what you normally would and lean against the doorframe. Walking in from around the corner you see Steve and Bucky heading straight toward you. Steve looks way too excited to be here while Bucky gives you a coy smile.

“What’s going on? I thought you were on a mission.” You ask Steve.

“I am.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is my mission.”

“This is where we were standing about three years ago.” Bucky starts as he looks between you and Steve. “Yeah, it’s just about right.”

“Ok?”

“This is where I truly met you for the first time.” Bucky admits. “It was the middle of the night and I was coming back from Wakanda. I was nervous and a bit scared that I wouldn’t be welcomed by the team. And there you were waiting to welcome me.”

“I think she was waiting for me, Buck.” Steve jokes.

“Don’t be a jerk.” Bucky elbows Steve playfully. “I’m doing something here.”

“Focus, I’m still not sure what’s going on.”

“As I was saying, you looked so beautiful that night. I thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to live here.”

“That night was the first time I saw a glimpse of my best friend for the first time.” Steve adds. “I was worried about him but when I saw the way he looked at you I knew there was something special going to happen.”

You smile at that. Bucky pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to you. It gives you instructions on where to go next.

“Go.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“Nope.” Bucky smiles. “I’ll see you later.”

You narrow your eyes in his direction but turn around and head to the next location. When you get there, to Steve’s office, you’re surprised to see him sitting at his desk. He was acting as if he’d been working.

“How did you get up here before I did?”

“I ran.” He says coolly.

“Ok then. What is supposed to happen here?”

“I was sitting right here and,” Steve assesses where you’re standing. “Take two steps back.”

You do as he says and stop at the doorway.

“You were standing right there. It had been a few weeks since Bucky had been back. I was trying to keep him in and you were arguing that he should be going out.”

You smile, remembering that conversation.

“I think you also told me to go get laid.”

“I still stand by that.” You joke and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Anyways, even since then you’d been looking out for Bucky. I still stand by what I said, I knew something special was happening between the two of you.”

“And I was standing right here.” Bucky’s voice startles you.

You step out of Steve’s office to find Bucky leaning against the wall not too far from you.

“You heard?”

“I did. I was actually on my way to Steve’s office to tell him I needed to get out. You beat me to it. Always looking out for me.” Bucky holds his hand out. “Next stop, c’mon.”

You take his hand and he takes you down to one of the common areas. Girls just wanna have fun is playing but it’s Clint singing. When you turn the corner the living room is set up similar to the bar you’d been at that night. Bucky’s hand falls to your waist as you laugh at Clint’s dancing.

“That night at the bar, Steve told me you would have said yes if I asked you out on a date. I wanted too but I thought you deserved better. I still do. It was the first time I admitted to myself that I liked you and wondered what it would be like if we had a family.”

“Baby.” You felt a lump of emotion form in your throat. “Really?”

“Yeah, I was crazy about you then. I’m crazy about you now.” Bucky kisses your cheek. “We should keep moving, we have a few places to see.”

Bucky takes you to a few places across the compound and recounts all the memories he’s had with you. Along the way the team keeps popping up with their own little stories about watching you fall in love.

The next stop was the medbay. Specifically the room where Lottie stayed when she first arrived at the compound. Bucky opens the door and you step in. To your surprise the crib is still there and a special guest too.

“Hi mama.” Lottie greets you from inside the crib.

“My sweet Angel, what are you doing here?”

She looks over at her father who places a finger to his lips. Lottie nods as she sports a knowing smile. She waves you over so you lean in.

“Is suwpwise.” She says before covering her mouth with her hands and giggling.

“It has been exactly a year since we found Charlotte. This is where you spent a large part of your time once Lottie was found. You stepped up when she needed someone. It’s also where I heard you tell her what you thought about me.” Bucky says as he gets closer and picks Lottie out of the crib. He sets her down and she runs out of the room.

“Will you tell me what’s going on now?” You were starting to get suspicious but didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“We are almost done.” Bucky takes your hand and brings it up to place a kiss on your knuckles.

There were a few more stops. Like the waiting room where Bucky sat, desperately waiting for news when he thought he’d lost you. Twice. The conference rooms where you flirted and the staircase where you had full make out sessions. The last stop was your apartment. Well what was left of it. Bucky gently moved you so that you were standing with your back to the door. You looked up at him curiously as he placed his hands on your hips.

“This is where we shared our first kiss.”

Bucky leans in and gives you a quick kiss so as to not mess up your lipstick. He reaches around behind you and opens the door. The apartment was bare. It was completely redone but all of your belongings were missing. There wasn’t a single thing that reminded you that it was yours. Of course this had been the target for the missile so nothing would have survived the impact and subsequent fire.

You take a tentative step inside and a slew of emotions hit you square in the chest. This apartment had been a witness to the love you’d had for Bucky from the very start. It held many good memories and even some bad ones. Your eyes welled up with tears at the memory of your last time in the living room, it was the night Lottie had her vision. Still that didn’t diminish every happy moment.

“Hi mama.” Henry stood by the kitchen counter.

“My sweet boy.”

He smiles at you. “This is where you taught me how to bake. We had a lot of fun times here.”

“Yeah we did.”

“We habe tea pawties he-uh mama.” Lottie poked her head out of her room and smiled.

Henry ran past you and into his own room. You followed closely behind.

“You read me lots of bedtime stories here.”

“Me too mama.” Lottie adds. Henry leaves his room and takes his sister’s hand as you and Bucky follow.

“Habe seepovers.” Charlotte says when you get to your room.

“Yup. You would pick us up and lay us down right in the middle when we were having nightmares.”

“Mama and dada gibe us cuddles.”

You took a deep breath to try and keep the tears at bay then turned to look at Bucky. He only smiled before looking past you and toward the bathroom.

“I believe you were in this room when I called you once. You’d been back from a bad mission and had been hurt. I was ready to drive down here but you told me Bucky was taking care of you.” Eddie says from his spot.

“Dad?”

“You’d talked to me about him before but it had just been in passing. This time though, I knew something was either going on between you or something was about to happen.” He smiles at both of you. “And I was right. You sure do know how to choose them kitten, Buck here is one of the best men I’ve ever met.”

You smile and take Bucky’s hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Go on ahead.” Your dad says and you look at him suspiciously.

When you walk out into the living room your siblings, Molly and Olivia are there. Luke is the one that speaks up.

“This is the first time we had an actual conversation with Bucky for the first time. You were still sleeping after Lottie’s birthday party. After he welcomed us in he sat us down. He warned us that he wouldn’t allow anyone to disrespect you in any way.” Luke looks between you too. “He protected you and I knew he was meant to be at your side.”

“It was low key hot.”

“So hot.”

Sofia and Molly agree and you laugh.

“Will you tell me now?” You turn to look at Bucky. Your family walked out quietly.

“One last stop.”

Henry takes Charlotte’s hand again and runs back out ahead of you. This felt like old times. The good memories outweigh the bad in this place. You let Bucky lead you out of the building and on to a golf cart. He drives past the training area and he admits he used to always check you out while you were training. The playground is next when he reminds you that it was where Henry first laughed. The jet where you watched Lottie take her first steps. You weren’t sure where he was taking you until you went further into the tree line. Bucky reminds you of the second date. One that you planned. It was just the two of you, the back of a pickup truck and music. That was the night you’d asked him to officially move into your apartment. It was also the night he asked you to adopt Lottie.

“When the hell was this built?”

“You know Tony.” Bucky replies as he stops the golf cart.

There was a huge two story house there. A dance floor took up the front yard. Fairy lights were strung up above and around the dance floor. There was a dj booth on one side, speakers surrounding the dance floor and your favorite flowers all around. You walked toward the center of the floor and looked around in awe.

“We haven’t had any memories here.”

“Not yet.” Bucky says from behind you.

When you turn to look at him he’s down on one knee. Your breath hitches as your hand rests on your chest. In one hand he holds a small box, the other reaches out to you. You take a step closer and put your hand in his.

“Everything that you saw before was just the start of us. It’s led us to this moment. Y/N, you mean so much to me. When I first left Wakanda I asked myself what reason did I have to keep fighting, to be better and there you were waiting at that door. For the first two years I tried to deny my feelings for you because I thought you deserved better, you do deserve better.” Bucky clears his throat, his eyes filling up with unshed tears. “You push me to be better, so that I can be the man you deserve. A better father and friend. You’ve been an amazing friend, girlfriend an even more incredible mother to our children and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

A few tears had already rolled down your cheeks as you waited with bated breath for what he would say next.

“Y/N will you marry me?”

“Bucky-“ you whispered, unable to get another word out you nod enthusiastically.

Bucky immediately shoots up and takes you in his arms, lifting and spinning you around as you both laugh. He sets you down and you pull him in for a hug. Bucky rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

For just a moment you’re in your own little happy bubble soaking up the moment.

“Mama, did you say yes aweady?” Lottie called out from somewhere. You and Bucky laugh at her innocent impatience.

“Yes, I did.”

The door to the house flies open and Henry and Lottie run out. They both reach you as the rest of the team, better yet your family, walks out. You and Bucky each take turns hugging them before you turned to receive your congratulations from the group.

“Let’s see the ring.” Sofia asks as she holds your left hand only to find your finger bare.

“Oh right.”

Bucky opens the small box to reveal a beautiful gold ring. It had an oval diamond in the center with smaller stones around it, reminding you of a mosaic. Bucky takes it and slips it on your ring finger.

“Baby it’s beautiful, I love it.” You pull him in for a kiss before everyone is looking at the ring and complimenting Bucky on his choice.

“Actually I have to give credit to Charlotte. She was the one who picked it out.”

“You did?” You looked down at your daughter and she nodded excitedly.

“When did you even get this?”

“Towards the end of July. I snuck the kids out to the jewelry store in town.”

Your mouth dropped at the information.

“I was going to propose the night when we were at the restaurant on the roof of that hotel and got called back.” Bucky informs you.

“The night it happened?”

Bucky nods and you’re left speechless.

“I actually found the ring in my go bag a few days later, I’ve been holding on to it since.”

You hug him again and he holds on to you for dear life.

“Let’s celebrate the two love birds!” Tony announces as the music starts to play. He walks over to you and turns to look at the house.

“It’s lovely Tony. I didn’t know you were building yourself a separate place to live.”

“I am but this one isn’t mine. It is my engagement gift to the two of you.” Tony informs you. Both you Bucky turn to look at him better. Tony just shrugs. “I’ve been working on building houses on this land. You know, so that we can have somewhere outside of the main building to live. The apartments can be used for our most trusted agents or employees if they need it.”

“Tony, this is amazing, thank you so much.” You give him a quick hug and Bucky shakes his hand.

“Don’t mention it. I think the kiddos would love all the space to run around too don’t you think?”

“Definitely.”

Tony winks at you and walks away to find Pepper. Steve quickly takes his place.

“It was about damn time, you too.” Steve smiles brightly as he hugs first Bucky and then you.

“I’m surprised you kept it a secret.”

“Since July I might add. This is amazing, I’m so happy for you too, really.”

“Thank you Steve.”

You can’t stop smiling as your siblings and then the rest of the team come up. Eddie is the last person to congratulate you.

“My little girl is getting married, I can’t believe this.” He places a hand over his heart. “I’m so happy for you kitten. You have a good man. I don’t have to worry about you being happy.”

“Thank you daddy.” You hugged him and for a moment you felt like you were little again.

“And you,” Eddie points at Bucky. “Remember what he talked about. I won’t hesitate.”

“Yes sir. I’ll spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to make her happy.”

“And yourself, Buck. Your feelings are just as important.”

“As long as I have my Sugar and my kids are by my side I’ll be as happy as can be.” Bucky said as you tucked yourself under his arm. One arm around his back the other on his chest.

“That’s all a father can hope for. But how about a dance for the newly engaged couple.”

The music changed and it was slow. Those eyes by New West starts playing. Everyone steps off of the dance floor Bucky can’t stop smiling as he leads you in the dance. You can’t help but mirror his beaming smile. When the song comes to the end Bucky dips you and connects his lips to yours. There’s whooping and hollering from all around.

The music changes again to something more upbeat. Lottie and Henry come back and the four of you dance together. Then all the women pull you away as they gush about the ring and celebrate with you.

You however can’t stop looking over your shoulder at your fiancé. It was heart stopping to think about. You’d be getting married to the love of your life. By the twinkle in his eyes it seemed like Bucky was thinking the same thing.

“Wow.” You said as you walked into your new home.

Your new home wasn’t furnished, which was fine by you, but it was incredible. The wraparound porch alone was more than enough. Immediately when you walk in is the living room to the right. On the wall is a recreation of the collage of pictures you’d had in the apartment that Bucky had made for you for Mother’s Day. The kitchen was of course state of the art and had been equipped with every gadget you could only dream of. Henry was ecstatic when he saw all of the baking supplies. There was also a breakfast nook, a formal dining room, a half bathroom, an office space and what you knew would become a playroom.

Upstairs were the bedrooms and there were plenty to go around and just in case you wanted to have more kids, which you did. Henry and Lottie chose their rooms, right next to each other of course. Everything was perfect and you couldn’t wait to make it your own.

****

Standing on the porch, Bucky had his hands on your hips and his chin resting on your shoulder. You were leaning into him completely as you watched everyone dancing and talking. All of them coming together to celebrate you and Bucky. You sigh happily. Henry and Charlotte’s laugh draws your attention. They’re in the middle of the dance floor holding hands with Olivia as they jump and dance around. You smile, seeing the pure joy on their faces. The kids call out for both of you to join them. Bucky takes your hand and leads you down to the dance floor.

Raising Henry and Lottie together only brought you an overwhelming amount of happiness. The love and joy was there. Through the ups and downs you and Bucky were side by side. You had each other’s back and there was no one else you’d rather spend the rest of your life with.

Ch 35

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 7 months

Text

close to home | chapter sixty nine

plot: the reader continues to heal, and her and Daryl have a talk

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,084 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd

“Careful, careful… ow! Careful, Daryl.” You winced in pain as your husband pulled off your bandages. They were stuck from the dried blood, and it felt like he was pulling off a million bandaids.

Daryl rolled his eyes at you as he got the last one off, and you sighed with relief and dug your head further into the pillow to get comfortable. Dog was whining at the foot of your bed, and Daryl had to keep yelling at him to be quiet.

You looked down at the new scars on your arms. Visions of what happened flashed in your mind, and you had to look away. But of course, the one on your stomach was the most blaring. A direct threat to your life was cut into you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked at Daryl, who was preparing the other bandages.

You set a hand on your belly, which looked almost normal with you lying on your back. It poked out a little, though. And you could tell the difference.

“‘Aight, lemme see ya arm,” Daryl said as he knelt beside the bed. He carefully laid them out on your arms and then wrapped them. “They gonna be good soon. Maybe another two days.”

“Thank you,” You whispered as you stared at him. He looked so handsome it made your heart ache. When he went to work on your other arm, you brushed his hair back to caress his face. “You’re so pretty.”

His cheeks lit up, and he shook his head, which made you smile.

After tending to your other arm and then your stomach, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a slow kiss. His lips were soft against yours while his hand firmly gripped your waist. When you pulled away slowly, you left a few more quick but soft kisses against his lips.

“I love you so much, handsome.”

Daryl nodded and kissed you again. You could tell something was wrong when he pulled away, but he said he would take Dog out one more time before you went to bed.

You sighed when he left and sat up. The worst part that hurt was your nose, eyes, and stomach. But after a few days of rest, you felt better than you thought. Being shot was worse. Physically, at least. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see Alpha’s and Beta’s faces and hear your friends dying.

The room felt too quiet then, and you quickly closed the shutters before taking off your bra and putting on one of Daryl’s shirts. It was cold in the room, but you didn’t feel like sleeping with pants on, so you climbed into the bed and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Finally you heard Dog barking at the door and then Daryl walked in.

“What took you so long?”

“Ask Dog. Needed to smell every Goddamn thing.

You watched Daryl lie out a blanket for the dog and then change. You wolf-whistled when he took off his shirt--which he replied to with a middle finger--and then finally, he shut the light off and got into bed next to you.

The bed dipped as you moved closer to Daryl and forced your way into his arms. His arm wrapped around you tightly, and you looked up at him. “You haven’t said much.”

He hesitated for a second. “Just don’ know what to say, I guess.”

“You haven’t said anything about what happened. Talk to me.”

You saw the outline of his hand near his mouth, and you pulled it away to keep him from biting on his nail. He sighed loudly and looked at you, but you couldn’t see his face. “I wanna kill ‘em. Every single last one of ‘em. I want ‘em dead for what they did to ya. For all of it.”

“Me too.”

“I thought I killed him. The one who calls himself Beta. Thought I killed him in the elevator. If I had… maybe-.”

“Daryl, no.” You cut him off. “Don’t even start that game. This wasn’t your fault.”

“She did it to ya ‘cause I didn’ give up the girl. ‘S my fault. ‘M sorry, (Y/N).” Daryl said. His hand pressed against the side of your face as you sighed. You leaned forward, finding his lips in the dark.

“I won’t be able to make you think otherwise, and I’m not foolish enough to try. But Daryl, I don’t blame you. And if you need it, I forgive you. I don’t blame you at all. Okay?” You saw him nod.

“Why didn’ ya tell me ‘bout the baby sooner? How long did ya know?”

You bit your lip and laid your head back down against his shoulder. “I had a hunch before Tora… before I went on the run with Rosita and Eugene. But I didn’t know for sure until we got back to the Hilltop after finding Lydia.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me? Ya knew, and ya still went out there? Ya put yourself at risk.”

You ran your hand along his bare chest to try and calm his anger down. “I wasn’t going to let you go out there alone, Daryl. I’m with you. Whenever and whatever.”

He shook his head. “Ya can’t… not anymore. Ya gotta stay safe. If I lose ya, or the baby, I don’t….”

“You’re not going to. I’m fine.” You said. “But after this, once we get back to Alexandria, I promise you I will stay within the walls as long as you aren’t in any danger, Dixon.”

***

Daryl couldn’t sleep that night. Dog kept whining at the door because he didn’t like being cooped up, and there was too much on his mind. He kept replaying the image of finding you, again and again, over and over, in his head.

He thought you were dead. The way you were covered in blood, limply tied up to a pike with his friends' heads above you. When he lifted your head, and your eyes didn’t open, he was so distraught he lost the small amount of food he’d eaten that day. But when Siddiq said they kept you alive, God, he was so relieved.

And now you were here, sleeping next to him. You were injured, mentally and physically, so much so that he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to help you. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for you. He didn’t want to. If he did, he’d hunt down every last one of those freaks until they were dead.

He sighed loudly and rolled over onto his stomach. The bed dipped as you turned as well. Your shirt had rolled up a bit in your sleep, and he could see your belly from the moonlight coming in.

How could he not have noticed? He felt like an idiot.

And he was furious with you. He wanted to scream at you for not telling him, even before you knew for sure. He couldn’t believe—well, he could—that you went out with Rosita and Eugene and then with him to find Henry. He wanted to throttle you over it. But he couldn’t. Not after everything you’d been through. And worst of all, he understood. He would do anything for you, no matter the situation, no matter what held him back.

You started stirring in your sleep, and he felt you start twitching.

“No…,” You mumbled. “Don’t…”

“Hey, hey,” Daryl said, immediately trying to soothe you. He set his hand on the top of your head and used the other to gently shake you awake.

Your mumbles got louder before you started thrashing on the bed. Your eyes finally opened as you sat up and were near hyperventilating.

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed in horror as the last of your nightmare drifted away.

“Ya okay,” Daryl said, sitting up. “Ain’ nobody here to hurt ya.”

Even in the dark, he could see your expression as you looked at him, and it was like a punch to the gut when you started crying and fell into him. “I saw him. I was back there in the barn and.. and…” You sobbed.

Daryl stayed quiet as he rubbed the back of your head. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself from going to find Beta and kill him.

Your hands were holding onto his arm desperately, and he pulled you closer.

“When I was in there, they had me tied up to watch them kill all our friends.” Your voice was a whisper, and Daryl froze. You hadn’t spoken a word about what happened until now. He had the general idea but hadn’t heard your story yet. “I tried to fight. I could kick some of them down, but they just got back up…

“And then, once they were dead, Alpha told me she would kill me first. But she didn’t wanna kill the baby. I guess the womb is a no-go, but once it’s out, it’s natural selection.” He thought about the baby Tammy Rose and Earl had and where the baby came from.

“They both did it. Alpha made the cuts, the threats. But Beta… he’s the one who beat me.”

Daryl stiffened his arms around you and pressed his lips against the top of your head. He held back his tears to let you find comfort in his own strength.

“I was so out of it. I could barely remember you guys finding me. I just remember thinking I would die and that you’d find me and…” Your voice trailed off.

Daryl didn’t know what to say, not that that surprised him. He wasn’t the best at words unless they were in anger.

“I’m so sorry, Daryl.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, and he pulled away to look at your face. “For what?”

“For everything. For putting myself in danger and not thinking about the consequences. For you to find me like that. I’m sure it couldn’t have been easy…” Your voice trailed off, and you set your hands on the sides of his face.

“Don’ even think ‘bout that, darlin’. Ya don’ worry ‘bout me.”

He closed his eyes when you rubbed your soft fingers against his cheeks and felt his body calm down at the touch. Then you pressed your forehead against his lips, and he kissed it a few times.

“I love you.” Your voice was a whisper, and he leaned his forehead against yours. He could hear how unsteady your breathing was.

“I love ya too, darlin’.”

Your hands were still tight around his face when you looked up at him. You kissed him gently, and Daryl felt his heart leap like every other time. It didn’t matter how long it’s been since he met you or the first kiss the two of you shared. It always made him feel the same.

“Thank you.” Again, you whispered.

“For what?”

“For being you. For being everything to me.” His eyes opened, and they met yours. “I used to think that we only work ‘cause of this world. That before, we wouldn’t have. But I know we would’ve. I would crave your touch like I do now, thinking about you all day. I think we were made for each other. Period.”

Daryl was glad for the dark, so you couldn’t see how his eyes shone. Your words meant everything to him. They were everything he needed to hear and more. His heart was beating fast, and he bit his lip.

“Ya really mean that?”

You nodded and leaned your forehead against his lips. He smiled before giving you a kiss. He loved when you did that. When you wanted physical touch and the way you told him without words. It was his language you spoke in, and he savored it.

“We gonna be okay,” Daryl whispered against your skin. “We gonna get ya home to Alexandria, and we gonna be okay. I promise ya.”

“I do wanna go home. I wanna be in Alexandria. This room reminds me of everything bad that happened to me.”

“We can go to Alexandria soon, once ya able to. ‘Mma get ya home, baby girl.”

You nodded and laid back against the bed, cuddling up to Daryl as soon as he joined you. “Sleep.” He said, rubbing his hand on your back. “Ya safe, Dog ain’ lettin’ anything touch us.”

***

You and Daryl spent the next few days at the Kingdom before you were ready to go home. Your cuts were just scabs now, and your eyes were yellowing. Your nose would heal soon, but it was still broken with a bandage.

Jerry made sure you and Daryl had more than enough food to last the way, and it was sad to say goodbye to his family. But it was worse saying goodbye to Carol, who was grieving. The two of you sat and cried for a good hour, and you apologized for not being able to protect Henry, but she wouldn’t hear it. She even came to see you and Daryl off.

It took a day and a half to get to Alexandria on horseback, and when you finally saw those walls, you wanted to cry with happiness. Aaron wrapped you up in a big hug when you walked through the gate and hugged Daryl, too.

And, of course, seeing the kids meant everything to you. Judith was ecstatic that you were home safe, and RJ held your hand the entire way back to your house.

Michonne smiled as soon as she saw you and Daryl and gave you a hug. “I’m so happy to see you,” She said. Then she gave Daryl a hug. “And you, too.”

“We’re happy to be home.” You said. “How is everything here?”

You could see the light in her eyes dim a little, but she nodded. “We’re okay.”

You grabbed Daryl’s hand and followed the Grimes family into your house. It smelt like home, and you felt yourself relax.

“I spoke to Aaron. The third floor’s bedroom shared a bathroom with a second room. It’s not finished. But I thought it would give you two more space once the baby moves.” Michonne said.

You sat down at the center island, and Daryl gave you water within a minute.

“Really?” You asked. “I never go up there, never even thought about it.”

“The baby is gonna need windows. Can’t keep it in the basement.” Michonne gave Daryl a pointed look.

“Baby’s a girl.” Daryl sat next to you.

Michonne smiled as Judith cheered, going on about how she was so happy to have a girl cousin, which only made you smile and run your hand against the back of her head.

After catching up with them, you and Daryl walked to the third floor. You knew it was mostly where supplies were kept: clothes for the kids, winter clothes, and old baby stuff that would come in handy sooner rather than later.

The bathroom was finished, just missing supplies, and it needed painting, and there were broken tiles. Both bedrooms connected to the bathroom weren’t finished; some of the walls were still wood. But it was bigger than your bedroom downstairs, and it would offer more privacy. And you knew how much Judith and RJ didn’t want you to move out.

“What do you think? We could finish it?” You asked, putting your hand on your stomach as you turned to look at him.

Daryl was already staring at you. And he had been, from his spot, leaning against the doorframe.

“I love ya.”

You smiled and walked over to him. “I love you, too, old man.”

#daryl x reader #daryl dixion x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x reader #twd #daryl dixon #daryl x y/n #daryl twd #daryl x you

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darlingmbappe · 1 year

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The Loneliest [4] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: Kylain has shown you just how much he wants you and him to work out, initiating a second chance you weren’t sure you’d give.

Warnings: Angst? Very minimal. Little bit of fluff. Hangovers, cussing, chef!kylian, mentions of insecurities in a relationship, and that’s about it. Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

The afternoon sun steeped through your closed eyelids, immediately you felt your head beginning to pound, your pupils felt like they were throbbing. Even with your face now stuffed into the pillow, it was still too bright, and you were still too damn comfy.

You tugged the comforter over your head, letting it engulf you entirely. What the hell did you drink last night? There was maybe a 5% chance of you leaving your extra snuggly bed today, and that percentage is reserved for peeing and taking a giant Advil. Memories of flashing club lights and loud house music rushed through your tired mind, and you muffled a loud groan into your pillow, wondering why you decided that buckets of alcohol would somehow make you feel better about telling Kylian about your night with Haaland during your heart to heart after training… Damn you, tequila.

Alas, the time came where you couldn’t keep holding your bladder and you ripped the sheets off of you like a bandaid, looking up at the ceiling… except it was not the ceiling you expected to see. The flood of confusion that took over your brain was palpable as you stared up at the familiar high walls and designer light fixture dangling above your body. Your heart rate increased as it dawned on you that you were not in fact in your new bed in your new apartment, but your old bed (albeit, much more comfortable bed) in the house you used to share with the very man you were trying to forget.

“Goddamnit.” You blurted into the air, noticing that you're wearing his old Mickey Mouse shirt you left behind. Looking next to you reluctantly, you thanked god that Kylians side of the bed was far too undisturbed for him to have possibly slept there with you – but maybe you wouldn't rule anything out just yet.

You sat up slowly, noticing your old nightstand provided a tall glass of water, two headache relief pills, and your phone on the charger. 1:30 pm. Holy shit. The last time you slept in that late was when Kylian gave you the flu last year. Poor thing felt so bad… as he should. It was a miserable four days of nothing but puking and Netflix. It’s not a very fond memory and it was definitely not the best idea to think about at this moment because you had to sprint out of bed like it electrocuted you, beelining to the toilet, barely making it before you began to throw up nothing but clear liquid that stung your throat as it shot out.

Kylian heard your footsteps from the floor below you, his heart rate increasing. Finally, you were up. He would have been concerned if he hadn’t been listening to your soft snores whenever he passed by the door, not noticing how he grinned stupidly every time. He stood from the couch and made his way to the kitchen to cook the only thing he knew you ate while nursing a hangover; two eggs and cheddar cheese on a multigrain bagel with a side of turkey bacon.

He felt like he had his in. He felt like today was finally the day that he could start trying again with you… really trying. Getting through to you has taken time – which is fair enough and he understands your reasons behind waiting – but all he wants is to show you that he’s changed. That he won't revert back to the aloof asshole of a man that wouldn't listen to you. He wouldn’t take you for granted for a second. Losing you was so painful, he couldn't possibly do that to himself again. He couldn't do that to you again.

As you started descending down the stairs, Kylian set you a placemat at your favorite spot by the window, a small bouquet of flowers sat in the center, a glass of orange juice, water, and a mug full of coffee all snuggly placed next to your breakfast… Well, lunch.

The second he saw your sweet frame enter the room with his old shirt and sweatpants, hair disheveled, all pouty and squinty, his stomach did flips. You looked so beautiful to him, all he wanted to do was hug you tightly and pepper your face with kisses. One day…

“Hey, sleepy.” He grinned at you, standing next to the table nervously, now feeling like he’s overdone it with the display, twiddling with his hands.

“Is that for me?” You tiredly asked, rubbing your eyes and trudging over to your usual breakfast spot, sitting comfortably in the seat.

He sat across from you, moving the flowers slightly to the left so his view of you wouldn't be obstructed. “Yes, I… um...” He looks at the neat placement of the meal, slightly embarrassed, “If you're not hungry you can save it for later, or… I don’t know.” He waves off, trying his hardest to be cool and nonchalant.

“I’m starving.” You calmed his anxiety, immediately grabbing the hot coffee cup, sipping it and instantly feeling some life make its way back into your veins, humming out in satisfaction.

He mentally fistbumped himself after hearing your thankfulness for his perfect cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep?” His hands were neatly folded in front of him, attentive and genuine.

“I think I went brain dead for a while. I forgot how comfortable our mattress is.” You say without noticing you called it our mattress, but Kylians heart pitter-patters inside of his chest at the slip of the tongue. He watches you as you take the first bite out of the bagel sandwich. “My god…” You grumble with a mouth full of the food, chewing every bit with your eyes closed. “This has to be from Tatianos.”

Titianos was the bagel shop just a block down from this home, a shop you two would frequently walk to together when the busy streets looked calmer than usual. “Of course.”

“And the flowers?” You poke, pointing to the daffodils placed between the two of you.

His face cringed slightly. “Too much?”

You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head and shrugging. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Oh.” He blushed, biting his cheek in efforts to not look like a doofus. “Sweet, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky.” You tease, playfully tossing a piece of your bacon at him, which he caught and ate happily. It was scary how comfortable you felt around him on this strange morning, especially since you had only the vaguest memories that flash in and out of your head. “So, last night… what happened exactly?”

“Between us? Nothing, if that’s what you’re asking.” He confirms. “You called me super drunk at like 3:30 and said you were alone, so I went looking for you. You didn’t know your address and your phone was dead, so I brought you back here.”

You nod along, remembering some hazy moments as he reminded you. “Did you make me waffles last night?” You ask once the recollection of something crispy and delicious popped into your head.

“You remember waffles before you remember hitting on me?” He baits, quirking an eyebrow.

Oh, god. You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed. “Did I really?” You whisper, peeking an eye through the space in your fingers. Kylian laughed, nodding in confirmation. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Kylian.”

“Don’t be sorry. You can flirt with me whenever you want.” He beamed, pushing the idea of holding your hand so he could see your face to the back of his mind.

“No, I just mean…” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I really appreciate how respectful you’ve been with not pushing my boundaries since the breakup, and me flirting with you probably didn’t help you.”

He shakes his head. “Seriously, don’t be sorry. I can handle it.” He assures, a sly grin forming in his features. “I know I’m irresistible. It’s been a struggle my whole life.”

You roll your eyes, chuckling at the goofy side of Kylian, missing his overly confident commentary. “Well, then… I’m sorry about telling you about me and Haaland last time I saw you… I would have kept it to myself if I knew that it would affect you on the pitch–”

“–You don’t need to apologize to me for anything, (Y/N).” He established, looking you in the eye. You stared back, lost in the deep brown of his eyes, reeling you in with how warm you he made you feel with just some simple eye contact. Kylian cleared his throat, he himself feeling exceptionally vulnerable. “So, I was thinking…” He stopped, gulping and toying with a napkin sheepishly. “Maybe, only if you're ready… would you like to go on a second first date with me?” The words came out slowly as Kylian subtly shrinks into his seat, looking up, then looking away.

You pause and you swear you are able to hear the thump of his heartbeat from across the table. If you were ready to go back to him or not really was a coin toss. It’s only been two months, but in those two months, you have seen the change that Kylians made in effort to get you back. You never stopped loving him, never. And he certainty has shown you that he never stopped either.

“When?” You speak up, catching his wide eyes.

“Whenever you’re free.” He breathes out. You give him a look as if to scold him for not taking charge – a hint he understands instantly. “Tonight.”

You gulp down the last of your coffee, wiping your mouth with a napkin. Unashamedly, you enjoyed the power of making him sweat, tapping your finger pensivly on the wooden table. It provides some weird satisfaction after you hurt for so long. It sounds bad but it’s not something you can help. You hint at a grin, tilting your head to the side. “Okay.”

Kylians lungs deflated in relief, not being able to hold back a goofy and wide smile, wishing he could celebrate this moment as if he just scored a last minute goal in the world cup. “That’s great!”

“Nothing too over the top, though, alright?” You request, feeling your cheeks wanting to dimple upon seeing the happiness radiating from the man in front of you, but needing to keep your composure more.

“I promise.”

“Good.” You leave it there, taking a couple more bites of the sandwich until you were too full to continue.

Kylians smile was like it was tattooed, eyes glimmering. You gave him a weird stare, wiping your mouth. “What? Do I have something on my face, or…?”

He shakes his head, laughing off the question while looking down. “No, no. Sorry.”

You knew he was just happy about finally getting you on a date. Honestly, so we’re you. Obviously it was a bitter sweet thing. The feeling of missing Kylian was like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life. Not even when you’ve broken up with your past partners has it felt this empty, this lonely. You hoped it wasn’t just the hangover sabotaging you into feeling a little extra needy… but you needed him. You really did.

Even while you gathered your things together, you were feeling apprehensive over going back to your new place, wanting nothing more than to sink into your spot on the couch in Kylian’s living room — the spot that you fall into so perfectly after years of claiming it as yours.

Though Kylian offered to take you home, you insisted on just Ubering (which he insisted he pay for). It’s difficult to find a way to say goodbye to him as you found yourself in a position you've been in before, hating the pit in your stomach as you stood in the familiar spot by the front door, ready to leave. Facing Kylian as he watched you go put a bad taste in your mouth, reminded you of your birthday. Reminded you of the most painful night of your life.

He sensed that you two were on the same page, shuffling uncomfortably in his place. “So…” He filled the silence.

“Um, I’ll just meet you here?”

“Yeah, that works.” He nods. “6:30?”

“Okay. 6:30. I’ll see you later, I guess.” You let out a dry and awkward laugh as you opened the door. Kylian watched your every move with the worst case of deja vu turning his stomach over and over, having to look away. Your feet stopped you from walking to the Uber waiting for you, turning around. “Kylian.” He instantly met your eyes. “Um... Thank you.”

Kylian froze, engrossed in the genuine way that your words came out. They felt heavy, meaningful. He wanted to tell you he’d do anything for you, that you didn’t need to ever thank him because he just loves you; but the door shuts behind you before even a sound could escape his lips.

It was like the air went stale the second you walked out the door, he physically felt how much he missed you already. But he knew he’d see you in just a few hours, and he had some prepping to do.

Your new apartment wasn’t exactly… nice. Or safe. Or spacious. Or free of roaches. The handle of your door always got stuck and you were left foolishly jiggling it until it gave way. Your asshole of a landlord has yet to respond to your multiple texts about it, much less anything else you’ve filed complaints about in the short time you’ve occupied this space.

The water pressure was shit, but the boiling stream that relaxed your muscles felt like heaven, anyway. It washed away the thick layer of the Sunday-scaries that weighed you down on this strange day. Shower thoughts overtook your brain, and you got to thinking about Kylian.

The months of doubt he put you through were unbearable. You constantly felt like a burden in his life when all you wanted was to be there for him. The sleepless nights you spent pondering over where it all went wrong and nothing ever coming to mind… The anxiety of every argument or uncomfortable prolonged silences that left you confused and insecure… These moments weren't few and far between, but a steady new normal you'd convinced yourself would eventually get better. Those moments showed you what he was capable of turning into.

On the other hand, you knew the other side of Kylian. That side is the one you knew in your heart was the real him. He loved the fact he knew all your quirks, your routine, your favorite brand of cereal, your deepest worries. It was just easy with him, just like it should be. The compatibility was undeniable from the get-go. He was always so affectionate before, having to hold your hand in public or smack your ass in the kitchen or else he'd implode. He always reminded you how much you meant to him. That you were the love of his life. Kylian would say this with eyes that glimmered, confirming that his intentions were true. It's like whenever he spoke to you tenderly it went directly into your heart until it began beating just for him. You always thought dependency in that way was unhealthy... but you still found yourself to place Kylian in the category of necessity.

Living without him was a life you weren't sure was possible for you.

It was almost four o'clock when you got out of the shower and you had picked out a nice little casual outfit to wear. He better have kept his word about the 'nothing too over the top' promise because if he surprised you with tickets to the opera, you'd surly be denied entry in jeans and a tank-top, even with your nice leather jacket you purchased in Italy.

You were nervous. Of course you were nervous. This night could go horribly wrong. Maybe he'll show that he's still the Kylian you left two months ago. Maybe you'll spot signs to not go through with this. Maybe he'll forget about these plans altogether and leave you stranded once more on a night you expect him to be around for.

But, even worse... It could go wonderfully right. He could be a gentlemen and woo you. He could say the all right things and make your heart swell at his addictive laugh. That's scarier than any worst case scenario you could possibly come up with.

The time came to drive to Kylains apartment, and as you got closer, the familiarities of the roads brought you back to happier times. The way you avoided every pothole and recognized peculiarities you'd become accustomed to seeing every time you would go home felt like a heavy sentiment you didn't have time to explore before arriving at the large home. Before you knew it, you were kocking on the door, anxiously wiping your sweaty hands down the material of your jeans.

Through the window, you saw Kylian jogging to answer, abrupty opening the door with the biggest and most authentic smile you'd seen him exhibit in a while... including the months leading up to your separation.

"Bonjour." He quips, cloth towel tossed over his shoulder and the smell of something delicious had your mouth watering.

"Hi." You smiled back, stepping into the home as he stepped aside, allowing you to come in. "Are you cooking something?"

"Yeah. I thought we could have dinner here. I hope that's okay." He explained, wiping his hands.

His nerves were undeniable cute. "That's perfect." You begin walking toward the kitchen, setting your purse down and peeking at the simmering food on the stove. "What's on the menu for tonight?"

"Well, to start, french onion soup. Then we have coq au vin with caprese salad, and for desert, crème brûlée. Hope you're hungry."

"That sounds... amazing." The kitchen was messy, but you could tell he did some quick tidying up before you got here. Kylian never closed the cabinets, and you couldn't stop yourself from chuckling when you noticed every door was wide open. "So, you took up cooking, huh?" You say as you close the doors that hung from the hinges quickly before leaning over to sneak a peak at your dinner.

He shuffled around to stand next to you, stiring as an excuse to be close. "No, not really." He laughed. "I've been following a recipe and I've been on facetime with my mom the entire time."

You wanted to coo at him, your feelings of fondness bubbling like the sauce on the stove. "How is Fayza? Aw, I miss her." She was such an angel to you, always. You'd become so close to her, especially since you'd been living so far from your family for so long now. She truly made you feel like you were part of the family. You wished you'd called her or Wilfreid or Ethan after the break up, but it was just so painful.

"She's good. Dealing with some rabbits in her garden but... she misses you. Like, really misses you." He says the last part lowly. He didn't want to make you feel bad, it's just that his mother hadn't taken the break up very well. She was so excited for the wedding, to watch her son get married to the love of his life, to officially have you be a part of the family. It'd been years you'd spent Christmas with them perfecting a triple chocolate cookie recipe. Years of sitting with you in the stands of Kylians matches. Years of watching you be so good with her grandchildren, getting ahead of herself and thinking about obtaining a few more.

You couldn't say anything back, hearing the timer beep. Kylian put on your strawberry-patterned oven mitts and took out two ramekins from the oven.

"Wine?" He offered, picking up a bottle of red and topping off his own glass.

You shook away your distress about Fayza and the family, sucking in a sharp breath. Wine sounds amazing. "Please."

He poured you a glass, handing it to you and placing himself comfortably in front of you, tipping his own toward you. "Santé."

You clicked your glass together with his, taking a bigger sip than you probably would have in a normal situation. Kylian kept eye contact with you, but you looked away with a bashful chuckle. His eyes were too versed in the language of how to make you melt. Maybe wine wasn't a great idea.

Kylian lifted the lid on the large pot, stirring for a second before turning off the flame. "This looks about done... I hope."

You press your side to his, reaching over to grab a spoon and finding a carrot. You felt Kylain's stare, the warmth he provided with the minimal contact made you flustered. You bit into the perfectly seasoned vegetable, tender and buttery. "Mhm..." You muttered. "Damn, Ky. You should've been cooking for me years ago."

"Well, I'd be happy to be the chef in this relationship from now on." He said with a bold blush.

Relationship.

He heard it the second the word slipped from his mouth. You froze, blinking at Kylian who also seemed to stop all movement. "I'm sorry. I wasn't... I–I didn't mean to–"

"It's fine." You waved off, setting the spoon down and giving him a reassuring smile.

He nods apologetically, taking the spoon from your hand, purposefully brushing his fingers with yours and dipping it in the saucy dish. He hums at the taste. "Is there anything I can't do?"

You laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Shut up." He laughed along, loving the flow of the light banter... how it was before.

You sat at the table when he said he needs to plate the food, watching him scramble around the kitchen ungraciously, reopening every cabinet door and leaving it that way. He made quick time, balancing two soups and a basket of buttered baguette slices.

"You ready?" He nodded toward the patio door, opening it expertly with his elbow.

"Um... are we not eating at the table?" You question, confused but getting up anyway, grabbing both your glass and his, seeing as his hands are full.

He holds the door open for you, grin tattooed on his face as he see's your eyes light up at the setting he's created on the patio. The outdoor dining gazebo was decorated with strung up lights, candles lined up in the center of the table. There was a pattered tablecloth covering the hardwood with two chairs facing each other, the warm light created a sense of romance and intimacy. The sweet gesture showed how much effort he put into this simple date.

"You did all this for me?"

"Of course." He chimed, placing the small bowls of soup and bread down. You watched tenderly as he pulled out the chair facing the beautiful view that overlooked the gorgeous city, the sun had just started it’s descent into the horizon, painting the sky with hints of orange and pink. Your smile was flirtatious as you sat down and he tucked your chair in, taking the opportunity to be close to you.

This was always your favorite place to watch the sunset. You missed that view, your eye never leaving the skyline as you sat with a bashful blush. Your apartment now faced the brick wall of the building next to you. The closest thing to a view you get now is your neighbors golden retriever barking at the cyclists that ride by.

He sits across from you, placing a napkin on his lap. "Bon appétit."

He watches intently as you spoon your first bite, getting a bit of everything. "It's good?" He asks impatiently, trying it himself.

"Mother of god, Kylian. What the hell. It's delicious." You say approvingly. He gets a big head easily, so usually you kept your compliments subdued to avoid him becoming competitive with you in every aspect of your lives, but that soup brought you somewhere else.

The sun was setting slowly, as if the sky was begging you to appreciate this beautiful moment, savor it as long as possible. Halfway through the main course, the sun broke through the clouds that had occupied the heavens all day long. You audibly gasped at the phenomenon, feeling the golden sun warm your face, squinting slightly as you tried your best not to look directly at it.

“Oh, wow… Kylian. Look at the sky.”

He didn’t want to. The way the light illuminated your features, it was like he was seeing you in the highest definition. You might as well have had a filter on, because to him, you look supernaturally perfect. The slight breeze tussling your hair, the way your irises saturated in color with the suns natural light, the shadow just above your cupids bow drawing his attention to your undeniable lips… his heart grew in size, swelling and beating just for you. He was happy you were here. Happy he didn’t just give up on you. He wanted this feeling forever.

He stood up, reaching his hand out to you from across the table. You took it willingly, letting him lead you to the large patch of grass just a few yards from where you ate.

With your eyes hypnotized by the swirling clouds of colors, you sat on the slightly overgrown greenery, feeling the cold blades tickle between your fingers. Kylian sat with you, pinky finger brushing yours, enjoying the natural silence that was drowned out by ambiance. Birds chirping, tree branches rustling, your soft breathing, and his heart pattering.

He did his best to keep his eyes forward, wanting to enjoy the same sky as you were, but your beauty trumped even the most beautiful of sights. You were so mesmerized you didn’t even notice the way he gazed at you, feeling himself fall deeper in love, knowing that might cause him more troubles but found nothing inside of him that cared.

“It’s incredible.” You murmured. It really was the most fantastic sunset you’ve seen. One of those that sucks you in, the subtle changes overtime darkening the sky until you can spot the stars. You miss it when it’s ending, knowing you’ll only get a couple more minutes of this view.

As he looked up and around, Kylian suddenly felt the weight of your head resting on his shoulder, stiffening for a second before relaxing his tense muscles to allow himself to enjoy the contact. Minimal, intimate, familiar… the simplest things about you were always his favorite. His head lulled until his cheek hit the top of your head, remembering the sweet coconutty scent of your shampoo. Everything about that moment was nostalgic… perfect. Absolutely perfect.

When the moons shift began, you thought about lifting your head, but the comfort of having him back forced you to stay. You scooted closer, initiating him to do the same. Cautiously, he moved an arm behind your back, allowing you to rest against him almost completely. You melted into the gesture, relishing in every ounce of this moment in time.

“Kylian…” You whispered.

“Yes, bébé.” The nickname rolled off his tongue as if the word was created for only you.

You hesitated, focusing your eyes on the waning moon. “I don’t wanna regret this.”

Kylian felt your worry in his own chest, bringing his arm around yours, pulling you into him more. You let him hold you, you let the heat of him overtake your senses, your brain, your emotions. The feeling of his lips pressing to your temple was fleeting, but the aftershock sent waves from the spot, forcing your eyes to close in contentment.

He dipped his head slightly lower to speak to you, to whisper to you. There was no one around, no one to listen into the words he was going to say, but they were meant for only the woman he adores. Even the wind was a threat, not wanting them to get lost and blown away. “I could spend my whole life searching for someone else, but my heart will only ever be yours. You are irreplaceable, mon amour.” He hugged you tighter. “I’ll never make you wonder again. I promise.”

Your body turned, your head dipped into his chest, and suddenly, you were engulfed in him — both arms securing your body inside of his. You allowed yourself to fill your lungs with his aroma, something ineffable coursing through your body. It was like a switch flipped and your heart just knew that this was right. This was it.

Kylian felt it to. Fireworks burst inside his chest and the feeling was so overwhelming he worried he’d become embarrassingly emotional. Holding you again felt like home, like the stars aligned, like everything was suddenly okay again.

The pair of you sat there for a while, Kylian thumb brushed against your arm soothingly, once in a while clutching you. It was like he was scared you’d slip right out of his arms, like he’d wake up any second now and realize you were never there at all… but you were. Your nuzzled face in his neck fit like the last bit of a puzzle. The serenity that stood still against the breeze was just pure confirmation that you belonged together. That this relationship could be mended, healed, saved.

“Thank you for not giving up on us.” He placed the words carefully on the top of your head, this side of the world now dark, colder, but he’d never felt warmer in his life. The affection radiated and kept him cozy against you.

You look up at him, and even though you’d had a peek at the stars scattered behind the evening clouds, they were all held in his eyes. He was yours. He was yours.

You wanted to say so many things, but found yourself leaning forward instead, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. The pull was just as natural as gravity, just as logical as a magnet. Kylian’s heart thumped so viciously against his rib cage. So much so that you felt it against your own — pressed deliciously against him, knocking the air out from your lungs.

Your lips had yet to touch, finding that you needed time to soak in every movement and breath that radiated from your bodies. You closed your eyes as his nose touched yours, his slow actions coming to conclusion as your lips finally met again, molding into the most intimate kiss you’d ever shared. You were sure of it.

You exhaled together, feeling lighter and more alive. You’d shared millions of smooches, pecks, make outs… you’d seen each other completely naked, explored your bodies like knowing every inch was a life or death matter… but none of it has ever felt this exposed. This was vulnerability at its finest. You’d never felt such a rush of emotion like this. It was electric but calming. An indescribable wave of raw emotions and needs.

You deepened the kiss slightly, shifting so he could lay you down. Kylian hovered over you, lips never leaving yours, wanting to make up for lost time. You tasted better than he remembered. You felt softer than you ever had. He couldn’t hold you closer if he tried.

His hand gently soothed your cheek in a romantic gesture, moving his lips against yours as if they’d planned and practiced for this moment. You put your hand in his cheek, pulling away but not being able to regain control of your closed eyes, the happiness threatening to spill out of you like a sink overflowing.

He touched his forehead to yours, nothing to stop him from placing a meaningful last peck on your puffy lips. His thumb continued to smooth your hairline and a genuine smile was tenderly illuminating his face, the tiniest shadow forming from the candles still burning near your unfinished dinner.

He couldn’t stop the fondness that was about to come out of his mouth, words forming against his will. “Je t'aime tellement. Tellement.” I love you so much. So, so much.

His eyes already told you everything, you didn’t need the verbal confirmation to understand how true those words were, how much he really meant them.

“You don’t need to say it back right now.” He murmured, still flickering down to your lips every other second, missing the feeling of them already. “And that’s okay. I’ll love you forever. I have time to prove it.” He pecked you once more.

Your hand wrapped around to the back of his head and you scratched the nape of it, instantly feeling the goosebumps rise out onto his skin. It made you giggle, sending Kylian to do the same by proxy. “I know.”

You pulled him down and give him one last meaningful kiss. He didn’t want it to end, but you stood up from under him, on your feet as you looked down at the man who just wanted to look at you.

He mentally took a photograph of you and how you looked at this very moment. The moon shining behind you against the faint stars. He wished he could frame this moment in time and keep it in his wallet, show you off to anyone he’d come across.

You reached a hand down. “I believe I was promised crème brûlée?”

He took your hand, but just held it, tracing his thumb over your knuckles. Slowly he sat up so he could kiss each one of them and you found yourself giddy, excited for the sequel of a novel you thought had a finite ending.

How reliving to know there was more to come. How relieving to know there was a future with this man — your wonderful Kylian Mbappé.

A/N: Okay okay okay OKAY you guys... I'm happy with this "ending" :). That being said, I will write an epilogue bc I know I love knowing what happens way after, besides I already have so many cute little ideas for it.

Thank you guys so much for reading this fic, it's the first multi-part fanfiction I've ever written (yes, even in my One Direction phase), so it means so much to me that it had such an overwhelmingly positive response. If I could kiss every single one of you on the lips, I so would. MUAH. MUAH. MUUUAAAHHH!

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @http-isabela

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html-nae · 10 months

Text

T R A P S O U L

42!Miles x fem!OC

Beginning of the 42!Miles x fem!OC series

WC: 1055

Sometimes she wished he knew. But she tried so hard to disguise the truth, he walked around with a bright smile that lit up the room so she acted like she was happy. She sat there day after day, thinking.

Wondering.

If his mind played this game too. Thinking about him and her. Miles and Harmony. Together. Not Miles and Gwen.

The girl that was the complete opposite of Harmony.

Short blonde hair with one side shaved instead of long dark brown goddess braids.

Bright blue eyes instead of honey brown eyes.

Pale skin instead of deep brown skin.

A spider person instead of a normal student in Brooklyn.

In a completely different dimension instead of dimension 1610.

Even though they were completely different. They both shared one same factor. They were both crushing on the hopeless dork that manages to be late to everything and charm his way out of trouble. The same lanky kid that swings around the cities in New York and save countless lives. The same kid that buries his head in one of his many sketchbooks and fills the pages with the same thing.

Gwen Stacy.

Harmony decided to pretend that her feelings didn’t exist to save her the heartbreak and embarrassment of crushing on her best friend. At least until it all made sense.

Yeah. That’ll work.

“Harmony?” Miles called out, waving his hand in front of her face to bring her back to reality. “You listening?”

Harmony shot him a small smile and nodded as he continued on with his rant about how the new ‘villain of the week’ he encountered earlier that day and soon derailing into what Gwen would do.

Seeing him face to face and realizing how different everything had changed made her think about the days they used to be. When they would sit on this same roof top and watch the sunset. Like they are now. Except it was full of laughter and it wasn’t a one sided conversation. It wasn’t about the ‘villain of the week’ or ‘the one that got away’. It was always about art and the new album that came out earlier in the week or debates about which pizza place was the best or what Jordans would look better with whatever outfit they could put together. That was before everything changed.

Before Miles became the friendly neighborhood hero. Before his Uncle Aaron died. Before the multiverse was at stake. Before Miles fell for Gwen.

Don’t make a scene. Don’t make a scene.

Harmony thought while holding in an annoyed breath.

“Harmony? What’s wrong?” Miles asked. He looked concerned. It made her a little happy.

At least he still cares.

“Nothing Morales. Worry about your own.” She said, pushing his shoulder and laughing.

I’m trying not to make it seem like I want you. Even if it’s true.

“If you say so Harmony.” He said with a smile, turning back to look off into the city.

Harmony. Not Ny Ny or Ny or any of the stupid nicknames he came up with when they were younger. Just Harmony. Boring and plain Harmony.

She watched the sun sit on his skin, it made her feel warm and fuzzy. She remembered when they used to have sleepovers at his house. Smushed on his twin sized bed, reading comic books together all night not realizing until the sun came up. But that didn’t matter, because they were happy. Comfortable.

Harmony Jones wanted to stay in the world they created. The world that they filled with Uncle Aaron’s music, Mama Rio’s cooking, Papa Davis’ jokes, and Miles’ art. But that world was gone now. She believed that nothing and nobody would break the bond they had. She believed that she couldn’t find anyone that would get her like Miles so she never went out looking for anything. Never had a boyfriend. Or any situations like it. All she needed was Miles.

Sure, Harmony had other friends. But at the end of the day the only one she knew she could fall back on was Miles Morales. The boy from down the street that would put bandaids on her scraped knees when she would fall playing basketball. The boy that would write letters to her in class when she was having a bad day. The boy that would always give her his full attention when she wanted or needed it.

“Harmony. What are you thinking about?” Miles stopped talking a while ago when he realized his friend wasn’t listening to him like she said she was. Harmony was always lost in thought and he had to give it to her. She had him beat.

“Nothing.” She responded.

“Harmony. I need you to be honest with me. You’re always switching up. Well, not switching up, but you’re lost in thought a lot and that isn’t like you. I’m worried about you.”

He looked concerned. He really did. He was worried about his friend.

“It’s nothing Miles. Swear. I’m just worried about this exam coming up.”

Lies.

He believed it though.

And she believed that they would be good. Except she had to accept the fact that they’ve been done. Long before anything begun. They weren’t together, they never were and they probably never will be.

Harmony Jones lets him lead her on. The times he came crawling through her window, battered and bruised pleading for help so he doesn’t have to explain to his parents why he looks the way he does. It ends with him falling asleep in her bed. An arm around her waist and his head buried in her neck. Along with him gone before the morning comes.

It was a continuous thing. She was used to it. Did she want to get used to it? No, but it was as close as she was going to get to anything with Miles. He leaned on her and she leaned on him. Even if that meant having to listen to him gush about some girl that was only here for three days then gone for the next year and a half without a single word.

Even if it meant having to be there and have her heart torn in two while she watched Miles fall for someone that wasn’t her.

All because she disguised the truth and let her mind play this game.

taglist:

@urmotherswhor3

#miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #miles molares #miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #gwen stacy #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderverse oc #spider man: across the spider verse

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kisskissbanggang · 1 year

Text

Provocation pt. 3

[9.6k words/30min Read - Lee Know x Female Reader, Bang Chan x Female Reader - Non-Idol!au - NSFW/Smut w/Plot - Voyeurism, Developing Relationships, Multiple Orgasms, Alarmingly Short Refractory Periods, Cunnilingus, Blindfolds, Handjobs, Spit as Lube, Dom/Sub Elements, Creative Approaches to Identity Crises, Jisung Finally Enters the Plot]

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Chan | Also Chan | Come Say Hi!]

Despite how nervous you were, this was shaping up to be a gorgeous evening. Not only was the rooftop bar at Magnifique thankfully uncrowded since it was a weeknight, you even scored a table next to a space heater so you didn’t need your coat just yet. Your dining partner was enjoying himself thoroughly, especially with the Old Fashioned and appetizers you treated him to as the sun was beginning to set. This was as nice as the night was going to get, you figured, so it was time to suck it up and do what you came here to do in the first place.

“So,” you began, speaking somewhat confidently into your food, “I was wondering... who’s Chan?”

Jisung choked on his drink, reeling before he forced himself to swallow. You winced and slid your water across the table. He shot you a steely, skeptic glare as he carefully sipped. Your friend firmly set the glass back on the table and composed himself.

“What did Minho tell you?” he suspiciously interrogated.

“Nothing!” you defended. It was true. Minho shut down so hard that you’d never pressed the issue. You wouldn't be asking if it wasn't such a problem now.

“Bullshit!” Jisung laughed incredulously. “Minho never talks about Chan with anyone outside work, not even me, not even Dad, not even his mom.”

“Look,” you guiltily reasoned with Jisung, “I know I haven't been up front about me and Minho–”

“Oh my god,” Jisung groaned with a roll of his eyes. His fingers clumsily slipped off his glasses before pinching the bridge of his nose. But even then, he still seemed like he was about to laugh. “Do you seriously think I don’t know? Do you think anyone doesn't know?!”

Your face heated up immediately. Jisung started giggling into his drink.

“Come on, Ji, I–”

“You don’t think everyone at my last get-together saw you two dorks disappear into the kitchen together?!”

“Jisung!” you whined, “you sent me to get hors d'oeuvres–”

“I had to tell Seungmin you were single! He was convinced you weren’t. I wonder why–”

“Ji! I get it–”

“Maybe I was just blind! I've been to Ikea with you plenty but it never occurred to me–”

“OKAY, JISUNG!” you snapped. “I’m sorry, okay?!”

Jisung perked straight up at attention. Everyone around you was staring. Without even meaning to, you’d slapped your hands down onto the table with your outburst. Jisung was practically on the verge of tears, holding in a laugh until his face was red.

“Fine,” you pathetically grumbled with a wave, “continue. I deserve it.”

“I’m just saying,” Jisung facetiously shrugged. He was failing to hold back a giggle. “Where was my kitchen handy?”

Jisung howled when you kicked him under the table.

“Oh my god, Jisung, GROSS!”

“Now I'm gross!” Jisung sobbed out a hysterical guffaw.

You were both losing it by now, but you managed to stubbornly get argumentative for a second. “Like you were ever available anyway! I ripped off that bandaid a long time ago and you said no, remember?!”

Jisung swiped a tear away and put his glasses back on. “I was so smart to friend-zone you early on.”

“Smart,” you exaggeratedly rolled your eyes. “And all these years you’ve just pretended to not be interested in dating.”

It seemed you’d tripped Jisung up for a moment, judging by the way he paused, seemingly choking before he tried to subtly clear his throat. “I mean… yeah? Obviously. Because I'm not interested in dating.”

You searched for him to meet your gaze again. “Thank you, though. For understanding. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey,” he shrugged more earnestly now, “if someone's going to take care of Minho I'd like it to be someone I trust. Better yet, someone I like. You're perfect.”

“Thank you,” you smugly grinned. “Now! Who the fuck is Chan?”

The air between you got serious again. Jisung shifted uncomfortably in his seat, before leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. He looked like he was about to begin, paused, and ultimately cracked his neck to perhaps soothe his nerves. You patiently, nervously waited.

“... Fine,” Jisung nodded. “Chan's our boss.”

Your gasp was involuntary. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “And he’s even more Minho’s boss than mine. I’m over in Finance, but Chan’s the fucking VP. Minho’s an associate, but you knew that already.”

“Right,” you lied. Associate sounded important, which was probably how Minho could afford his nice apartment.

Jisung held up an eyebrow in doubt of you. “Chan stresses Minho the fuck out. If he brought him up to you, it can’t be good news.”

“It’s not like he’ll even tell me that it’s not good news,” you sighed. “He’ll tell me anything else.”

Your friend shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was clearly considering something. “Fine. You didn’t hear this from me–”

“What?” you interrupted, stunned. “You’re helping me now?”

“I might as well!” Jisung groused. “He’s been acting so weird for a while. He’s left me on Read for three days and he hasn’t done that since that time he worked 36 hours straight. If you can snap him out of it then it’ll be a weight off my back before our parents catch on. Now do you want my help or not?”

“Yes,” you groveled, grabbing onto his hand with one of yours and calling over a waitress with the other. His glass was empty, after all.

“Okay,” Jisung steeled himself. “Again: you didn’t hear it from me. But you’ll catch Chan in the loft at Good Night. I’ve been asked to come out often enough to know he’s a regular.”

You thought about this amazing nugget of info for a moment. “And has Minho ever tagged along?”

“Has Minho? God, no,” Jisung scoffed. “But like I said, you didn’t hear this from me.”

“Oh, Jisung,” you gratefully exulted, grabbing onto his hand again. “Thank you, seriously–”

“Are you sure you can’t tell me what happened?” he tried again.

You considered this. It wasn’t like you could tell him Minho clearly wanted to fuck their boss.

Right?

“It’s probably just work stuff,” you fudged. “I’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise.”

Jisung seemed satisfied, thankfully. But now you had a new fire lit underneath you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was just your luck that Minho happened to live in roughly the same neighborhood as this mystery nightclub. Considering the distance, it was a reasonable bus ride, but it honestly wouldn't be a terrible walk. Following that logic, it only made sense that you’d grab a cab.

Minho hadn’t even asked you where you were taking him tonight. Apparently, he was simply elated that you'd seemingly dropped the Chan nonsense for the time being.

The club wasn't your vibe by any means, by the way, but it wasn't a dealbreaker. The line to get in was modest, the cover was decent (which made up for it being cash only) and the fog machine wasn't obnoxious. In a move that shouldn't have been so surprising, Minho made a beeline upstairs to the loft.

“Been here before?” you teased over the music.

“No!” Minho laughed. “There's just a bit more light up here.”

This was a great date night barring any ulterior motives. Minho sat beside you in a cozy booth seat at a small table. It took every ounce of your reserved energy to not make it obvious that you were internally squealing when he casually smoothed a hand across to your far shoulder so he could hold you close. Truth be told, you liked whatever it was that you were growing with Minho.

The atmosphere in the loft made it easy to feel like you were still intimate despite the crowded accommodations. Minho talked low in your ear, his lips tickling you just enough to make you giggle like an idiot when you weren't being more careful. If you didn't know any better, though, you'd almost think your unintentional reaction nearly made him blush.

Minho cleared his throat and waved over a thankfully fast server. Soon, you both had a drink to distract you a little. You took a moment and surveyed the loft. Really, any of the gorgeous men chatting up the other patrons could've been Chan.

Any of them, but one in particular, once you caught sight of him.

And you weren't the only one who noticed.

Beside you, Minho coughed into his drink, making you jump. He floundered. He sputtered. Ears fully red now, Minho got up and fled into the chair across from your booth bench. Both hands flat on the table, he leaned forward, his gaze wild.

“You bitch,” he wheezed out with an affronted laugh, “you set me up! You knew he'd be here!”

You blinked innocently. “Who?”

Minho ignored you, and instead rubbed his temples in frustration for a second. “As if I'm stupid! You think I don’t know where he spends his off hours? I’m going to murder Jisung. How else would you find out? Of course this was a set-up, I knew it–”

“Min,” you sweetly interrupted. “If you're saying what I think you're saying, I'll tell you right now that I don’t even know what he looks like.”

Small lie, but harmless. You didn't know, but you had a good idea. Your retort made Minho pause, likely right in the middle of a clever remark. As a result, his mouth momentarily flopped open and shut like a fish. The only thing you could think to do was push his drink back into his hands. Minho clutched the glass and took a healthy swig. Once he was finally satisfied, he firmly set the glass back down, all while eyeing you steadily.

“So,” he carefully treaded, “this isn't a set up?”

“Never said that,” you mischievously grinned.

Minho cocked an eyebrow. “But you don't know what he looks like?”

“No,” you gleefully replied, arms folded indignantly across your chest. “I don't know what Chan looks like–”

You were cut off by Minho flailing. Either it was that you actually said it… Or that you said it just loud enough for your voice to carry.

And right on cue, your suspicion was confirmed.

The young executive with the soft brown waves, coordinated accessories, and likely incredibly expensive shirt that was engrossingly form-fitting in the chest and biceps – the one you’d been betting on when you caught sight of him schmoozing a cute date on the other side of the loft – definitely glanced up and around at the sound of his name. You certainly recognized him now. He’d been blonde when you first caught him looking at you at Minho’s office, but this was unmistakably the same man. Same strong nose, same dimple, same sweet little eyes that lit up when he laughed.

You understood the appeal.

“What’re you so worried about? He’s cute, Min,” you smirked.

Minho currently held a glare that either meant he could kill you or kiss you right at that second. “I'm glad I have your approval,” he grumbled.

“Tell me more,” you prompted him. You reached across the table and held his hand.

Minho paused, looking at your thumb brushing over his knuckles. He finally sighed. “There’s not much to say. We've known each other for a long time. He just… He makes me feel…”

“Like I do?” you gently teased, trying to keep him inside the comfort of your dynamic.

Except Minho met your gaze. “Actually?… Yeah.”

You sat up, a little caught off guard. Well, you figured, it was no wonder Minho felt shaken up by this whole development, starting from the moment he called you hyung in bed.

“But you still feel… Like this? About me? And that’s why you feel weird?”

“Yes,” Minho nodded heartily, “but also, like, it’s weird because I'm… Y'know. Straight.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. “You sure about that?”

Minho’s shoulders drooped with a sigh. He roughly massaged his temples. “No? It's fucking confusing.”

“Then think about it this way,” you quickly suggested. “You’re straight. But there's currently an exception. One step at a time.”

“Well, it’s not like it even matters,” Minho babbled. “I'm with you!”

You both stopped now. Any discussions about you and your standing with each other was still on a minimal basis. But the butterflies in your gut were clear as day. There was a drawer in Minho’s dresser and bathroom counter with your crap in it. His shirts were in your laundry basket. You squeezed Minho’s hand.

“And I'm with you,” you reassured him. “But what’s wrong with trying? Are we exclusive or anything?”

Minho scoffed at the thought. “Hardly. It’s just, you know… What about you?”

“What if I help?” you thoughtfully suggested.

This was tempting, apparently, with how Minho blinked at you. The smallest sparkle lit up his eye. “You’d help? How?”

“Well,” you pondered, “I'm assuming it’s risky to just pick up your boss.”

Minho’s shaky confidence returned instantly, an exhausted sigh blowing ragged over his lips. “Jesus Christ,” he cursed with a defeated laugh, “imagine the consequences. His career? My career?! What would I even do?!”

You spied Chan on the other side of the loft, currently leaning incredibly close to a stunningly hot girl.

Minho raised an eyebrow when you shifted your drinks aside and ordered a couple waters. “We done already?”

“Of course not,” you retorted, “I just prefer to not drink when I'm scheming.”

“Scheming?” Minho stared at you, half aghast and half intrigued. You nodded in return.

“Come on, Min,” you invited, “tell me more about Chan.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You looked ridiculous. This was now one week since you’d first stepped into the loft at Good Night. Minho dressed you, and from the way he could barely keep his hands off you, you were curious to see what Chan would think. First and foremost, your tits were shoved up under your chin. It wasn’t like you were suffering through a push-up bra or fashion tape situation, but you were surprised to find Minho had picked out an astonishingly nice corset top for you, all cropped and coquettish with ribbon details on the shoulders and everything.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you’d asked him.

“Quit whining,” he scolded. “Do you want him or not?”

Of course, the boobs would only help so much. Along with the gorgeous top that was horrifyingly body-hugging, Minho also supplied you with an elegantly long and chic skirt that sported a devilish slit up the thigh. The skirt perfectly coordinated with an equally cropped blazer that you currently wore draped around your shoulders. You’d never tried this look before, but it was surprisingly not bad.

“What do you think?” Minho had asked when you tried it all on.

“I look like an expensive hooker,” you determined. You kept nervously fussing with the buttons on the blazer.

“Perfect,” Minho chuckled as he fixed a dainty gold chain around your neck. He squeezed your hand away from the jacket buttons. When you batted him off, he swatted your hand instead. “We call that a ‘call girl’, by the way. How do you feel?”

You had thought about this. “I feel hot,” you decided.

“Good. That’s because you are.”

It was still true, days later. In your heels and the other cute accessories Minho picked out for you, you felt like you were unstoppable. (Which, truthfully, only made you feel more like you were really, truly falling for him – the way the accessories and outfit still felt like good matches for you, not the fact that he bought you things… Except maybe that was also there, at least a little.)

You snapped open your clutch purse to grab your cover charge. It’d been Minho’s idea that you also arrive separately. Even though he was only 15 or 20 people back in line, you still couldn't help but feel a little nervous for some reason.

When you couldn't find your cover right away, you pulled the bag closer to get a better look. Instead, you got a faint whiff of the cologne dotted on your wrists.

“You sure?” you’d asked Minho. He’d nodded heartily in return.

“Absolutely. I know what I'm doing.”

It wasn't even his cologne or anything. He simply recalled it as a detail Chan had divulged while tipsy once: cologne always smelled better than perfume. No matter what.

You wondered if Minho ever recalled silly little things you’d said along the same lines.

Finally, you found your cover charge, but not before you heard it.

“You! White skirt!”

The skirt was cream, idiot.

Wait.

That was you.

Holy shit, that was you.

Your head snapped up to attention. Sure enough, the bouncer was waving you forward.

Apparently, you actually looked as good as you felt.

Sneaking a look back at Minho, you recognized his look as burning pride, the way his grin bordered on smug.

The club was even more crowded than your previous trip, making you doubt your plan for just a second, but you remembered what Minho said.

“Don’t sit at the bar. Don’t even spend a minute looking for him. Sit on a lounge bench by yourself and don’t look at your phone. Just people watch for a minute. He’ll find you instead.”

Complete and total nonsense, but you were curious nonetheless. You honestly got in your own head. Whereas there'd been no thought to pushing Minho’s buttons, you didn’t even know Chan aside from what Minho told you.

Although Minho told you quite a lot.

“... And you know what else bothers me? He never lets anyone stay after he leaves the office. He’s always going on and on about how he doesn't want to leave anyone behind and everyone deserving free time. Does he even know how much overtime everyone pulls on days he’s not in the office to make up for it?”

Did Minho bitch about you like that? You hoped so. The idea of him griping at Jisung over how he was annoyed with every little thing you did was miserably adorable.

Getting lost in your thoughts for a minute helped pass time tremendously, as it turned out, but now you were worried that you hadn't caught sight of Minho yet. Even though he mentioned wanting to lurk in the background, it made you nervous to feel like you were on your own.

Even though you sort of were.

Was Chan even going to show? Minho had texted you when he overheard Chan talking about his plans for the night, but that never meant it was a confirmation. He easily could've–

“You’re here all alone?”

A distractingly forward voice cut through the noise and your internal distress.

Chan?

Turning to face the greeting, you were almost startled to find – sure enough – Chan sitting beside you on the lounge bench.

Why did you ever doubt Minho?

Chan was wearing a suit today, a casual number without a tie and his shirt dangerously three-quarters buttoned under his open jacket. He was brazenly sitting facing you, his knee nonchalantly nudged up on the bench and his arm slung across the back without touching you. You rapidly composed yourself.

“Excuse me?” you asked, seemingly nonplussed.

Chan blinked in response before visibly resetting himself.

“Be present, but not invested, not right away,” Minho had advised you before heading out here for the night. “Make him work for it.”

Here, Chan rolled his shoulders back and put his grin back on. “I asked if you’re here all alone.”

“I'm not,” you politely answered with a short shake of your head.

Chan automatically nodded in cordial understanding. “Fair enough. Apologies for interrupting you–”

He stared at your hand on his sleeve, stopping him from getting up.

“Is that usual?” you'd questioned Minho earlier tonight. “Making him work for it?”

And Minho had only grinned. “Not at all.”

Chan curiously held your gaze.

“I said I'm not here alone; I didn't say I wanted you to leave.”

He warily glanced around the loft. “What if I'm not into cheating?”

“Neither am I,” you shrugged innocently.

More intrigued than perturbed now, Chan eased back down onto the lounge bench. “So I take it that your companion is pretty private then?”

You cracked a sly grin. “Let’s say he has reason to not show himself.”

“Then you’re suggesting I know him? I know everybody,” Chan eagerly pressed on.

“Never said that. But I never said you don’t, either. He did say you're the curious type, though. Are you?” you teased.

Minho had warned you that Chan looked good when he blushed, but he didn’t tell you how easy it was to get him to do it.

But it wasn't just that. When you were first planning all of this together, you’d made sure to ask Minho. It was important to know, after all.

“Tell me what you want out of this, at least for the first round if that’s all we’ll get.”

Minho had considered it carefully, and you loved every second of his answer.

Currently, Chan looked on in abject anticipation.

“And maybe,” you resumed, “he thinks you like to show off. Maybe he wants to watch and know he got to see you with me, without you ever knowing who he is.”

You stalled before he could say anything, grabbing a hearty sip of your drink to gather some fortitude.

It seemed you weren't the only one in need of some renewed confidence either. Chan blinked at you again and swallowed down a tough breath, processing this.

“Not interested? I’m sorry to take up your time,” you politely apologized before moving to get up.

However, just like Minho predicted, it was Chan’s turn to put his hand on your sleeve.

“He wants to watch?” he carefully repeated.

“This time, at least,” you winked, aloof.

Chan’s ears burned bright coral.

You leaned into his hand on your arm. Even in the low lighting of the loft, nothing obscured his distracted gaze trailing down your throat to your chest.

“Everything okay?” you patiently implored.

Chan nodded dumbly. “I'm not used to being caught off guard, that’s all.”

A smirk tugged at your lip. “You’ll have plenty of time to get adjusted. Anyway, I’m sure you're a real quick learner.”

The gleam in Chan’s eye was woefully endearing. You were never much for “Labrador boyfriend” energy, but Chan reminded you more of a bouncy Rottweiler.

What would this guy look like in one of those handsome collars? Like, not even a lined, leather one, but just a chain pinch collar–

“–if your man doesn’t mind.”

Oh shit.

You were getting distracted. Chan had just finished saying something attractive, judging by his cocksure smolder. You leaned into your distraction, cocking your head curiously. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized, “what did you say? I was already imagining what’s coming next.”

Chan, gawped, floundering again. “I, er, was just saying I'd love to show you a good time, if your man doesn't mind.”

“Oh, Chan,” you cooed, “of course he doesn’t mind. He wants this, remember?”

Now he was just ogling you. Did you say something wrong?

“How did– who– so you do know my name?”

Fuck.

Your pause betrayed how much you were scrambling to stay cool. The most devious grin spread across Chan’s face before he scooted forward. Now you were hip to hip on the bench. You backed up an inch in surprise but Chan only leaned in, gaze hungry. “I was right,” he eagerly implored. “If you don’t know me, your guy definitely does. Who are you?”

“Chan,” you repeated, regaining composure as you did so and sitting up into his space, “of course I know you. I know lots of things.”

He devilishly met you in the middle, your lips a few inches from his now. “I bet you do,” he murmured. He was staring at your mouth, eyes half-lidded. “What else do you know?”

You called his bluff, pushing forward another inch until he pulled back, just barely. “I know,” you paused for dramatic effect, “that you want to get me in a taxi right now and do whatever it takes to find out everything I know.”

The bit about the cab was explicitly supplied by Minho.

“If there’s anything the idiot loves more than his job, his flat, or getting laid, it’s the Rover. He’ll turn himself inside out to give you a ride, especially if he thinks you're not expecting it.”

And damn it all if he wasn't right again, because Chan looked like he could eat you alive right then. Did Minho know everything about you, too?

“Come on,” Chan urged you as he got up. Despite his neediness, his hold on your hand was incredibly gentle, a smooth little motion of scooping up your fingers in his. “You tell me where and we’ll go. You into cars? I have–”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down champ,” you giggled, not letting go of his hand but using your other to play with the buttons on his suit jacket. “You’re just gonna take me? Wherever? Even his place?”

“I don't give a shit if you want to go to Brazil, if I’m being honest,” laughed Chan, “I’d book us a flight right this second. But if it’s about safety, that’s fine, I'll gladly take a cab.”

Minho did make it clear that although Chan was a jackass, he was not a creep. And, unsurprisingly, he was right again. Chan’s eyes followed as your hand lifted to cup his face. His chin was ridiculously smooth. God, he even knew how to shave. Minho had good taste.

“Come on, then,” you nodded towards the stairs, “show me your nice car.”

As it turned out, Chan's car was every bit as dumb as Minho told you it was, but you found yourself fond of how proud he was of the thing. It was nice, sure, but you were more interested in how spotless he kept it. When he opened the door for you, the Rover smelled almost brand new, like it’d just been detailed.

Driving with Chan was a whole other story. Thank god Minho lived close, because your mind was racing. One hand on the wheel, Chan’s other hand possessively held your knee. He’d asked, of course, if it was okay, and here you were, lost in thought as you watched his thumb brush little circles on your kneecap. He hadn’t been able to access your bare skin immediately, though. His pinky edged under the hem on the slit of your skirt so he could smooth the fabric out of his way. You liked his approach; it was forward without being overbearing, a neat little acceleration of how much you'd been firing each other up in the club.

The conversation was still mostly focused on him, at your insistence. He asked what you did for work, but all you told him was it was a boring little job. Nothing like his job, by the look of it.

“Eh,” Chan dismissed, “it’s a career. It’s second nature by now.”

He did keep trying, though, and when you wouldn't give up, he tried prying more info about Minho out of you. In fact, Minho warned you about this. He said Chan liked to tout having a silver tongue with clients, but your boyfriend preferred to say Chan simply talked so much that his clients would do anything to shut him up.

Wait.

Boyfriend?

Minho was your boyfriend, right?

It felt good to say it, at least in your head.

“Have you done this before?” Chan prodded. “Picking up guys together?”

You tried to get back in the game mentally. “Would it make you feel more special if we haven't?”

Chan’s face was pink again.

“Cute,” you teased, lifting a hand to ease your fingers back through his hair. You weren't surprised to find your hand didn't come back with hair product residue.

It should be said, you reminded yourself, that all these little revelations weren’t too different from similar ones you’d had about Minho in recent months. He was also astoundingly put together. It just made sense, you supposed, that Chan seemed to fit the same kind of image.

There was one spare parking spot for Minho’s building, but you already knew that. Minho had confirmed the week before that one of his neighbors was out of town. You were just about to open the passenger side door of the Rover when your phone buzzed.

>>STALL FOR ONE SECOND I got held up by coat check and only managed to leave a minute before you.

“Everything alright?” Chan asked, getting your attention back. The concern in his face told you that you may have been internally screaming at your phone.

“No, yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him before opening the door. Chan dutifully jumped out after you and jogged around to your side, offering you a hand. You looked at him, almost eye to eye in your heels. “I do want to know, though, for my own purposes…”

This wasn't part of the script, but you needed to stall, apparently.

And you were curious.

Chan looked on intently.

“I guess what I'm wanting to know,” you carefully continued, “was what brought you out here. The prospect… Or me?”

Chan’s gaze softened, matching his grin. His hand gently held you at the elbow. “It’s definitely a proposition I've never gotten before…But I also haven't met many women like you. Your guy’s pretty damn lucky.”

Okay, maybe you were getting more on board with Minho’s praise of the guy.

You paused, though, when Chan leaned in, his lips almost on yours when you stopped him. “Sorry, handsome,” you apologetically giggled, “you gotta save it.”

“No, what?” Chan whined, but he backed up immediately. “Don’t make me wait–”

“Don’t worry,” you laughed, taking his hand and leading him to the elevator, “you don’t have to wait long.”

As expected, Chan’s eyes were everywhere, even in the elevator, looking for any hint of who you were with, so you got his attention back again. His brows jumped when you easily wrapped your arms around his strong neck, herding him against the back wall of the elevator. He tested the waters a little, getting a hand around your waist before you swiftly swatted him off.

“What, you’re not gonna be good for me?” he cooly smirked, teasingly trying again before you roughly grabbed onto his hand. His eyes widened, looking caught. You kept your composure despite retaining your sharp grip on his hand.

“One thing you’re going to learn very quickly,” you smiled sweetly for him, “is if anyone wants me to be good for them, they have to earn it.”

Minho earned it. Who knew if Chan ever would.

“Of course,” Chan nodded attentively.

You combed your fingers through his hair again, liking how he seemed to enjoy it. “Do you want to be good for me?”

Chan raised an eyebrow. You leaned away a little.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve just, er… I've never had anyone ask before.”

Hilarious. Of course. You should’ve known–

“– But I'd love to try.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow back at him. Your fingers still in his hair, you tried a tentative tug, only craning his head back an inch or so. His fingers squeezed your waist appreciatively in return. “You think you want to say sorry for getting overly eager with me a second ago?”

Chan scoffed. “What, when I got a little too fresh with you? Yeah it turned out to be too much but–”

“But you can just say sorry like I asked,” you chided him, your voice syrupy sweet while you tugged his hair more sharply.

His hissed inhale was cute. “Yes, baby,” he gritted out, “I’m sorry.”

“I like the way you say baby,” you cooed. “Was that okay?”

“Yeah,” Chan nodded, halfway dazed, “yeah, that was definitely okay”

“Plenty more where that came from,” you assured him, cupping his cheek.

How long had the elevator been stationary at Minho’s floor?

Well, you’d definitely stalled a little.

You took Chan’s hand and led him down the hall to Minho’s flat. A deep breath stagnated in your lungs. There was really no going back from this.

Then again, there was really no going back from the moment you let Chan sit next to you at the club.

No, you reminded yourself. You wanted this. And the fact that Minho wanted this, too, was even better. You really felt unstoppable like this.

The doorknob gave way easily when you turned it, Minho making sure there’d be little to no barrier when you arrived. Chan followed close behind, still holding your hand. Like you planned, the flat was fairly dark, only some candles and dim lamps lighting the living room. You stopped in front of the chaise on the wall opposite Minho’s bedroom. Chan’s eyes were still wandering, trying to glean any hints to Minho’s identity in the decor. Thankfully, you’d thought to stow all his photos for the night, and the dark room meant it was difficult to tell if an innocuous item like a vase was sentimental or purely decorative.

You gently but pointedly pulled down on Chan’s hand so he'd sit beside you on the lounge. He was still ridiculously distracted. You cupped his face so he would look at you.

“Weren't you waiting for something?” you patiently asked.

Chan’s pout was going to kill you.

“Waiting–? Oh, I mean, yeah–”

“Then close your eyes and put this on, handsome.”

You held up a necktie, magically producing it from its hiding place in the couch and Chan wavered momentarily before he closed his eyes. He leaned forward, letting you knot the necktie into a blindfold, but not without Chan markedly pausing. His nose pointed towards the tie. You wondered if Chan recognized Minho’s cologne. Maybe it was simply familiar, but the idea that the scent jogged his memory made you ache in your growing desire.

It was cute to imagine Chan hadn't done this in years, following someone else’s lead… If not ever. He didn't really strike you as the type. Your reading led you to believe Chan was always calling the shots.

The tinkling of a whiskey rock in a lowball glass signaled you to Minho’s presence, and you weren't the only one. Despite the blindfold, Chan clearly perked up at the noise. Minho leaned against the doorway of his bedroom, taking a sip from his drink while he watched you both. His shirt was opened by a couple buttons, and he'd abandoned his jacket so he could roll up his cuffs. Knowing him, this wasn't his first drink since he got home, and he was already warm. He shared a sweet, proud smile with you.

“He wants you to kiss me,” you told Chan, stroking your fingers through his hair again.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked in return.

Minho shook his head into his drink. You already loved how much Chan pushed all his buttons without even meaning to.

“Of course I do, sweetie,” you laughed. “Now quit making me wait.”

Chan nodded, his own hand searching out your cheek and pulling you close. His breath was hot against your lips, a single moment of hesitance before he kissed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the poignant rise and fall of Minho’s deep inhale swelling his chest. He moved to sit down in his favorite chair in front of his bookcase.

Meanwhile, that first kiss was the only barrier Chan needed to pass, from what you could tell. Instantly, he was right back to his previous boldness, pulling you close and exploring your mouth with his tongue. This was already a delicious change of pace. Whereas Minho liked to push and pull with you, Chan was plain hungry. Every inch you gave him became a mile. You started running down the list of things you and Minho agreed on, all the things you wanted to do and he wanted to see. The moment you led Chan’s hand to your knee, he immediately grabbed your leg and pulled you over so you were sitting on his lap, his tongue still in your throat and ravenously trying to get more and more of you. Barely a second had passed before his hands were already moving from your waist to your hips to the curve of your ass. Your skirt strained where your knees were parted to straddle him and instead you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, reeling him in while you leaned back to recline on the couch. Chan followed, blind and dutiful, and swallowed a breath when he felt you lead his hands to the zip of your skirt. He paused then, a hand on your hip waiting for any positive signal until you writhed up into his palm. You hummed contentedly while he slowly pulled the zip down, raising your hips to allow him to shimmy the garment down and off of you. This left you in your heels, your sheer panties, and the flirty corset top.

Across the room, Minho methodically swirled his glass in one hand while he watched, his other strategically resting on the visible bulge in his slacks.

Chan was surprised when you stopped him, his hands paused by your own. You led him to sit up beside you again, and then stand. First you slipped off your blazer, carelessly dropping it to the floor. He turned his head slightly, following the sound of your heels on the hardwood when you stepped behind him. His broad shoulders tensed when you ran your hands over them. You slipped off his suit jacket, folding it and dropping it on the coffee table. Next was the shirt, easy work with most of the buttons already undone. You simply unclipped his expensive cufflinks, dropped them into his shirt pocket, and this joined the jacket on the table as well. Not too long ago, you nearly lost Minho’s favorite cufflinks in this very room after being too rushed. You peeked over Chan’s shoulder to catch Minho absolutely devouring your date for the night with his eyes. Right now his gaze was firmly locked on Chan’s cut form, his defined pecs and rippling abs. You couldn't blame him. Chan shivered when you reached around his middle to get a teasing feel of his abdomen. You leaned your lips up to Chan’s ear from behind, all the while your hands now sank down to the zip of his suit pants.

“Okay, baby,” you smiled, “tell us why we brought you home.”

Chan sucked in a breath at the sound and feel of you slowly pulling down his zipper. “Because you want me?” he answered, surprisingly on the brink of timid.

“Right,” you nodded. “And why do we want you?”

Chan's ears were pink again. You brazenly ran a hand down to get a quick squeeze of him. He shivered, curling in on himself with his inhale.

“Because, heh – mmh – I'm hot?” he tentatively asked, trying to keep that cocky edge intact.

“Very hot,” you praised. Meanwhile, Chan surreptitiously stepped out of his shoes, but froze when you actually opened and dropped his slacks. He was down to his stupidly expensive boxer briefs. His hand covered yours.

“W-wait,” he stopped you. “I didn't get a chance to say yet, but… I can blow my shot real fucking easy if I'm not careful.”

Minho arched a curious eyebrow.

You placed a comforting kiss on the nape of Chan’s neck. “Oh, baby,” you soothed, “you say that like it's a bad thing.”

“No, not at all,” he flustered, “I just, I mean – what I'm trying to say is – there's usually a whole process to this.”

“You have a routine?” you teased. Minho watched you sink back down onto the lounge.

If your ears didn't lie, Chan almost whined. “When you put it like that–”

“Underwear off,” you pleasantly demanded.

The swirling of Minho’s ice in his glass sped up when Chan complied.

Guy was built. Cute back dimples and everything. Needed some work in his legs, but who didn’t?

You spread your knees, patting the upholstery between them. “Come here. Sit back down, baby.”

Chan carefully lowered himself between your legs. You lifted your heels, hooking them inside his knees from behind to spread him open.

Minho watched intently the first time you touched Chan’s bare cock. It wasn’t thick, it wasn’t long, but it did feel just as handsome as the rest of him. And if Chan was pink, then the head was almost red, you mused. You wistfully imagined Minho was wishing it was his own hand on it. Chan choked out a groan, almost like he’d been holding his breath, and immediately relaxed into your chest. He was fully exposed for your boyfriend, getting his dick stroked while he moaned and sighed.

“Tell me what the whole process is,” you directed towards his ear. “Tell me why else we brought you home.

“I go down,” he immediately answered. “I always get them there first, feels so fucking good and helps me last longer.”

Minho almost sat up straighter and you knew why. Despite having both taken turns going down, plenty of times, neither of you could really say it was your favorite activity.

You put your open palm under Chan’s full lips. “Spit, handsome.”

Chan didn't hesitate, immediately letting a good drip of saliva drop into your hand. He threw his head back when you reapplied your newly lubed hand to his strained erection.

“And then what,” you asked him, “you get to be hot and attentive and then what.”

“Hmn, oh shit,” he cursed when you sped up, “then I get mine.”

“Yeah?” you smiled. “That’s it? They get theirs and then you get yours? Let’s see what that looks like.”

Chan nervously giggled. “Never said the process was complex, it just– oh fuck,” he croaked, his breath shaking while you fisted his leaking cock. Just like that, Chan dropped his head back onto your shoulder while he came. The way you held his length aimed it low on his belly.

From the magical hiding spot in the chaise came one of Minho’s pocket squares. You mused for a moment if these also smelled like your boyfriend while you cleaned Chan up enough to keep going. One last swipe left a bead of cum on your forefinger. You lifted this up to Chan’s lips, only for him to automatically poke his tongue out and hungrily taste it.

“Oh, I knew it,” you gushed. “I didn’t even have to ask.”

Chan was simply rosy and catching his breath when you wrapped your fingers into his perfect hair. He turned his attention to you. “Now what, baby, tell me what's next.”

You led him down to kneel in front of the chaise. “You like to go down? I wanna see.”

Minho had already freed himself from his slacks and was lazily palming himself, licking the whiskey off his lips while he watched Chan blindly feel for your knees so he could work his way up to the waistband of your scant panties. His fingers were careful with the delicate fabric. Properly bared for him, he spread you nice and wide on the chaise before slinging your legs over his shoulders. First, Chan kissed and nipped at your abdomen, leaving a couple little love bites on his way down between your thighs. He breathed you in before taking one sampling taste of you. You both shivered at the first feel of his tongue on your wet clit.

When you noticed Chan’s pause, you sat up. Minho looked on expectantly. Chan was waiting.

“More,” you urged him.

Chan dove into you then, licking and tasting every inch of your hot pussy that he could reach. He felt out all of your favorite little spots, too. Your back arched, your breath hitching in your throat when he pressed into you with his tongue. You stopped him now. If he kept this up you’d be a goner. You threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him back, loving how he groaned for you. He caught his breath, waiting for you to give him the next direction when he felt your hand on his half-hard cock, this time with Minho’s pocket square wrapping around him.

“Think you can cum again while you’re down there?” you challenged him.

Chan paused, pouty lips shiny wet with you. “You want me to?”

You cracked a smug grin. “I want you to go until you hit empty.”

You could’ve sworn he blushed at that, too. It felt like half the words out of your mouth were nothing he’d ever heard before. Minho nodded in agreement behind him.

“Yes, baby,” Chan dutifully answered, taking over from your grip on his quickly regrowing erection before diving back into you, herding you back onto the chaise so he could lick you again.

You were coming apart under Chan’s tongue. Minho was amazing at it but something about Chan told you that, apparently, someone could really love eating pussy. He held onto your hips and thighs, grinding his moaning breath into you while he jerked himself off. Within minutes, he shivered as he came again. You shot up to support yourself on your straightened arms.

“Did you just–?”

“You told me to,” Chan panted, as if it were obvious. He lifted the blindfold to gaze up at you. His flushed cheeks and chest were adorably shiny with perspiration by now.

You and Minho glanced at each other, doe eyed.

“And can you… go again?” you tentatively asked.

He nodded emphatically. “Yeah, baby.”

“Oh my god,” you marveled. You gently grabbed him by the chin and led him back to your heat.

Chan got right back into it, licking you while clearly giving his cock a moment to rest before you could feel him gently stroking it again.

Good Christ, you groaned internally, could you imagine edging him?

The thought alone was getting you to your peak even faster than before.

And it was like Chan knew.

“Baby,” he pleaded into your pussy, “tell me I can touch you.”

You felt the fingertips of his free hand tease your hot entrance. He rode the line without ever crossing it.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I wanna feel it.��

For a moment, you were worried you’d be thrown off by the change of pace, but Chan was surprisingly astute with how he approached it. His fingertips slowly, slowly rocked into you, in pace with the grinding of his tongue. The stretch was almost too natural, and before you knew it, he was pumping his fingers right into your spot. You let out a breathy whine at how pliant yet attentive Chan was being. When he clearly hit the right rhythm, he never let up. Before too long, your peak was right there. With the blindfold still lifted up, his eyes were locked on you in determination.

Your fingers were in his hair again, getting his attention. “Baby,” you urgently sighed, “you’re gonna make me–!”

You threw your head back into the chaise with the force of your orgasm, your thighs spasming and clenching onto Chan while he moaned into you. He licked you up until you pushed him off, fighting for breath, gripping onto the cushions of the lounge.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, dazed.

“Good, right?” Chan eagerly asked, still panting.

“Yeah,” you nodded, a little more lucidly. “Did you–”

“No,” Chan almost whimpered. “I haven't gone this many times in years.”

“But you still can?” you verified.

“I need to,” he insisted.

“Good,” you smirked, slipping his blindfold back down and dipping your thumb in between his lips. He automatically began sucking on it, until you curled your fingers around his jaw and pulled, hauling him up onto the lounge beside you.

Chan gasped and whined when you immediately threw a leg over his lap and straddled him. You dragged a fingernail down his toned chest.

“What now?” he asked, hushed anticipation filling his voice.

Minho was teasing his fingertips over the dripping head of his erection.

You seated yourself right on Chan’s hardness, enveloping him in your soft heat and getting a broken groan out of him. “We’re just finishing this one off, baby,” you assured him.

“How’re you–oh Jesus Christ–”

Chan clawed into the chaise when you pulled all the way off of him. You sank him inside again, repeating the motion, taking him all the way to the hilt and then lifting completely off of him.

“You love getting fucked, don’t you, baby,” you mewled.

This poor man was quivering under you. “Yes – fuck – god, yes, baby, I do,” he babbled.

You slid your hot pussy onto his cock and right back off again. Just for the added torture, you reached up and tweaked his nipples. Chan let out a garbled curse.

“Oh,” you simpered while you maintained the same arduous cycle, “what a perfect slut. So good for me.”

Chan whimpered again. “Baby, baby,” he panted, “I can’t, I have to–”

“Not yet,” you scolded him, pinching his nipple again. “Tell him how good it is.”

“Him–?” Chan asked, almost too dazed to understand at first. You looked behind you. Minho was panting, groaning while he touched himself.

“Him,” you repeated. “My boyfriend wants to know how good it is. Tell him I'm gonna make you cum.”

“Fuck, she’s so good,” Chan immediately commended, “her pussy’s fucking perfect, she’s gonna make me fucking bust–”

“Do it, then,” you instructed. “Fucking bust, slut.”

“God damn,” Chan hissed, “yes, baby, whatever you want–”

He shut up again when you hesitated for a moment. You'd still been keeping up the same torturous cycle of never properly riding him, only teasing his whole length inside you before pulling off. This time, you paused for a second before taking him back inside. This, apparently, was nearly all he needed. Chan writhed under you, needy and desperate, until you rode him properly, grinding him upwards inside your heat. He was fully moaning out loud now, not stopping until his breathing hitched.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, “I’m gonna, I’m gonna–”

When you pulled off of him again at the last second, you could've sworn he almost sobbed, bucking his orgasming cock into nothing and coating his stomach in his cum again.

The incredible thing was, however, Chan was still hard. Even when you let him catch his breath for a good minute.

“You bitch,” Chan wheezed out a laugh while you cleaned him up.

“Was it that bad?” you pretended to pout.

He shook his head. “No, it was weird. Interesting might be a better word for it, but that was a weird fucking orgasm.”

“Want a better one?” you propositioned.

Chan lifted his head off the chaise to look at you, humorous with the blindfold still on. “Wait. Seriously?”

You glanced behind you. Even Minho seemed surprised, but his sly grin communicated a persistent pride.

Minho knew you loved impressing him.

“Yeah,” you insisted, letting him feel you climb off of him so you could melt down beside him onto the lounge. “I wanna wring you dry. Come here and fuck me properly.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Chan blurted. He instantly scrambled off the chaise and fell back onto his knees on the floor.

“Now?” you stalled, suddenly bashful from his eagerness.

Chan yanked the blindfold down now that he wasn’t facing Minho’s direction and roughly grabbed his cock. “Look at me,” he goaded you, crazed, “I'm ready to go. Let me fuck you properly.”

You nodded dumbly, a bit gobsmacked by how he retained this edge to him even when he was bordering on submissive. Chan scooped a hand under you to sit you up. His other spread your knees and scooted your ass to the edge of the chaise.

“Please kiss me again, baby,” he gruffly pleaded.

You grabbed onto the makeshift blindfold, now a makeshift leash. Chan grunted when you pulled him closer together. “You want it?” you asked sweetly.

“I need it,” Chan clarified. “Please, baby, please kiss me.”

You nodded, closing your eyes while you reeled him in, the meeting of your lips coinciding with him sliding into you again. He groaned hot and urgent into your mouth, and already his hands were all over you. Chan fucked you firm but not too rough. He doubled the thrust by pulling you onto his sensitive cock at the same time, his fingers clutching your ass while he sloppily nipped and kissed your neck.

“Is your boyfriend getting off on this?” Chan asked sweetly into your ear.

Over his shoulder, you could see Minho spit into his own palm to lube up his erection, his head lolling back into the easy chair while he touched himself.

“Yeah baby,” you nodded, already fucked dumb yourself.

“And you?” he teased. “You like your boyfriend watching you get fucked?”

“Yeah,” you whined desperately, thrusting back.

“Who’s really the little slut– oh fuck–” Chan cursed roughly as you tugged hard on the necktie wrapped around his throat. Your back arched, getting a sordid moan out of both of you when this created more of a grinding angle in your hips.

“No question about it,” you breathlessly taunted, “only a little slut can go three times.”

“If you keep that up,” Chan whimpered, “it’s gonna be four.”

“Fuck,” you whined pathetically, “Channie, you're hitting my spot–”

“Channie?” he repeated, nosing his lips up to your ear. God he was insatiable. “Oh, I like that. You like Channie pounding into your g-spot, baby?”

“God, you're annoying,” you cutely ribbed him. “Make me cum, Channie.”

“Give it to me,” he pleaded. “You gotta tell me so I can pull out and finish–”

“Pull out?” you questioned.

Chan raised his eyebrows at you. “You don’t want me to?”

“I said,” you repeated with a measured amount of menace, “I want to wring you dry.”

It was Chan's turn to look a bit gobsmacked. That multiplied when you wrapped your legs around him, hooking your ankles behind his back. You were getting that headrush back. He craned his neck when you pulled at the necktie again. “You’re going to make me cum, Channie,” you explained, “and when I do, you're going to fill me up.”

“Yes, baby,” he desperately nodded. He was still grinding into you. “Just like this?”

You nodded, stealing a kiss from him. “Yeah, Channie, I love it. You want me to cum all over your cock?”

“Please,” he growled into your mouth, “come on baby, let me cum inside your perfect pussy.”

Your goddamn vision was going hazy from how fast Chan was getting you there. Everything went so fast when you hit your peak. Your nails raked into Chan’s biceps when you finally unraveled, your cries and moans indecipherable from his own when your hearing dropped out momentarily. He hit his high right after you, clutching you tight against him while his hips stuttered with the force of his orgasm. Minho's empty whiskey glass hit the floor while he tried to stifle his curses, biting into his knuckles while he sprayed right onto the hardwood. Thankfully, the glass didn't shatter, only traveling a handful of inches to the floor.

There was only gasps and sighs for air in the ensuing silence. Minho caught his breath for a moment before he would make his planned return to his bedroom. You collapsed back onto the chaise, stroking Chan's hair where he’d crumpled on top of you. He was hugging you tight around the middle.

“That was amazing,” you appreciated, punctuating this with a kiss to the crown of his head.

“The feeling is mutual,” Chan chuckled. He kissed you beside your navel when he straightened back up. “Can’t say I saw this coming when I went out tonight.”

There was a shy quiet while Chan plucked his shirt up off the table behind him. It was almost romantic, the way he was still inside you.

“So do I get to meet this mystery man?” he asked casually, fishing his cufflinks out of his shirt pocket.

“He’ll prefer to keep his privacy,” you smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure you understand.”

Behind him, Minho finally arose from his chair, picking up his glass and ready to head back to the bedroom.

“Sure,” Chan nodded. “So do you think he’d mind a date, then? Just me and you?”

You stared, mouth agape. Minho paused too. His hand was tight around the glass.

“You’re joking, right?” you carefully laughed.

“No!” Chan laughed back. Was he serious or was he trying to get his way and see Minho? “I’m sure he won't mind,” he continued. “We already fucked. I already made you cum. Twice, may I add. I'm sure he’d understand if I want to see you again.”

“Careful, Channie,” you tried to playfully warn him.

“What,” Chan teased back, taking his sweet time easing out of you. “Maybe he’d like it. He already like watching us fuck in his apartment. Maybe he'd like sharing you–”

“Don’t be dumb, handsome,” you warned him again. Minho fully faced away from the bedroom now. “How do you know it’s not my apartment?”

“It’s clearly not your apartment,” Chan persisted. “But I can show you mine if you show me yours–fuck!”

You’d wondered how long Minho would last, and the answer was not very long at all. He marched right over, kicking a foot up under Chan’s arm to punt him onto the floor. Chan cursed and sat up, quickly grabbing his trousers to cover himself and discover Minho standing over him.

The two men stared at each other, Minho’s glare meeting Chan’s wide-eyed panic.

Instead of backing down, though, Minho did what he was best at. He squared his shoulders back, unyielding.

“I tried telling her, hyung, sometimes you refuse to shut the fuck up.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #lee know smut #OOOOH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE HOPE YOU ENJOY #bang chan breakdown #bang chan #lee know #lee minho

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tachimichishrine · 6 months

Note

Please I am begging, I can’t get over just how perfect Tachihara would be with the whole ghost face trend. Please please please

<what. what if I told you I wholeheartedly agree. throws my headcanons and love at you>

"scream for me"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

tachihara michizou x fem! reader {ghostface trend} hcs

warnings: nsfw ; kitchen sex ; knife play ; intended lowercase ; cursing; unedited so unedited i wrote this half asleep thinking abt being pussy drunk on tachi pls forgive me

manz is a SPY. he's done undercover work and wears a disguise 24/7 (his disguise is a goddamn bandaid but he's hot so we let it slide) he adores getting dressed up

I think he'd be really bad at taking it serious though

100% he gets very childish about things like birthdays, holidays, halloween bc he didn't get that kind of experience with his family when he was younger (womp womp :/)

the hunting dogs obviously don't have anything to do with halloween so imagine his surprise when he caught the port mafia hq covered in spider webs and blood.

the blood was likely real

elise was the one who insisted on it, and if she insists, everyone is wearing cat ears and fake vampire fangs.

chuuya was a vampire the dude definitely had practice

he was definitely in the spooky scary spirit when he had his head on your lap, one hand sliding under and up between your thighs like a pillow and watching scream

i KNOW he felt just the teeny tiniest insecurity when you started calling certain scenes really hot but he tried, really hard, to ignore it.

got a little too comfortable and sleepy when you starting running your fingers through his hair and found himself letting out a yelp at the stupidest jumpscares

you teased him for it all night

"do you think I'd survive in one of those horror movies?" you asked later that night, curled up in bed.

"your dumbass would probably trip and kill yourself on a kitchen knife while making breakfast."

"well, fuck you."

"only if you insist" said with his trademark grin.

you got him back by playing into his jumpiness and hiding around every corner, even when you're on missions

you sprung out with a dramatic ghost-like scream (holding back laughter) on one important mission and the man almost shot you

like he pulled the trigger and everything and had to use his ability to keep the bullet from drilling a hole in your stupid skull.

you toned down the pranks after that.

however, it did give him an idea.

he started using his ability to set up the mood for payback by making metal doors creak or scraping chair legs on the ground slowly

a chill physically ran up your spine when you were walking hand in hand and the front door of an empty "for sale" store slammed open, then shut.

maybe he liked it a little how you squeezed his hand when he did that

maybe he liked it a little when you punched him on the shoulder as you realized it was just his antics

but he sure as hell liked it when you roughly smacked his naked ass and shoved his face into the sheets later that night to teach him a lesson

you liked his screams more like that anyways

tachihara was nowhere to be found after you disappeared into the shower trying to wash off all the smeared cum he'd left on your body. you already thought it was strange that he didn't join you even when you offered, but it was even weirder when you came out in nothing but a towel, and the bed was empty.

"michi, I know you're tryin' to be cute or whatever and scare me, but you're not very subtle about it," you giggled, ditching the underwear to just put on some shorts and one of his shirts. your body bounced onto the mattress that was still warm from your bodies, still smelling like sex and gunpowder. the covers were thrown over you and snuggled into and you waited patiently.

it was amusing, at first.

it was annoying after 10 minutes.

you'd gone on your phone, scrolling listlessly to pass the time while you waited for him to finish up whatever stupid prank he was planning so you could get back to sleep, but a whole half hour had passed and it was beginning to feel a little wrong. you weren't worried (he kicked your ass in training too many times for you not to know how strong he was), but sure as hell curious as to what was going on. it was the spooky season, after all, and there was no harm in indulging a little bit; you dialed his number and heard it ring from somewhere in the apartment.

he was really trying to set it up for you, huh? cute. you figured you'd play along.

the phone was vibrating from the kitchen counter, and you picked it cautiously, glancing around you to find out from where your boyfriend was inevitably going to try to jump at you. you heard a chair move, and your eyes darted to look over in that direction out of instinct.

of course a hand clasped around your mouth and another pulled your waist backwards. you bit his gloved hand playfully to get him to let you go and just giggled, shoving your hips back onto him teasingly and trying to flip around to get a look at him.

your entire body got slammed onto the kitchen counter, hair pulled back in one harsh movement

oh fuck.

you didn't think you'd be bent over so fast, his hips already grinding into your ass while the thin, cheap plastic of his mask rubbed against your cheek, his husky voice laying out every lewd thing you both knew you were thinking. from the way his body was leaning onto you, you guessed that he was shirtless and wearing just about the tightest, low-cut pants known to man being held up by a belt (there was definitely a thick belt; you felt the buckle poke into your lower back every time he'd grind too hard)

"michzou..." you didn't have any problems with what he was doing, but loose fingers were touching your body all over and the thin shorts you'd thrown on previously without a second thought were soaking with every word he'd rasp out. "michi, stop playin' around, I-"

it seems your simple ask got you manhandled again, and both gloved hands were now on your thighs, lifting you up to sit you down on the counter so he could rub against you from the front. it was hard to take it seriously and you let out a giggle when you watched him loom over you with the ghostface mask on, trying to be serious. your fingers went to dig into his shoulders as your hips rolled, back arched trying to feel him better.

he sighed, groaning and trying to slip off the mask when he realized it wasn't having the effect he wanted, but you flicked it back on.

"just because I'm laughing doesn't mean I don't think this is fuckin' hot," you reassured him, ironically chuckling again, and this spurred him to grab your hands and pin them above your head on the cabinets above.

"can't believe you liked gettin' fucked by a masked man this much." his voice was deeper than it usually was but god did it get you throbbing. your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to regain control without your hands.

you quipped back with a sly grin. "would be better if you actually fucked me."

shit, you knew just what to say to get him riled up. he let your hands go to pull off your useless shorts which already had splotches of your arousal, and you seized the opportunity to unbuckle his belt, slide your fist into his pants and pull him out.

getting fucked senseless by your masked boyfriend on the kitchen counter at 3 in the morning was not on your schedule for halloween.

"you know," you mused, your pace slowing once the build up had passed but still rocking yourself on him, "usually the victims try to fight back."

"the fuck does that me-"

the cold metal of a knife poked and teased the exposed skin on his neck, and you felt a little irritated you couldn't see his shock through the mask. "c'mon, you've had your fun, baby, it's my turn."

he wanted to play the part, he really did, but before he could try to resist you had him gently sliced into streaks of red, teeth marks coating his body and his tongue gagging on blood-stained fingers from under the mask. your legs were still secured around his hips, fucking into him slowly and deeply, and every guttural groan that echoed out in the hollow apartment was good enough to keep you going while his body tensed up with rigid muscles and heavy breaths.

he couldn't take it anymore once the searing sting of you smearing his blood on his skin mixed in with the pleasure of dragging against your tightly clenched walls, and he murmured a curse before discarding the mask, messily kissing you with groaning lips buried into your neck once he finally got enough air to pant your name.

ah, the dumbass. he really tried to get you to play along but it was hard when you had him under your thumb. maybe next year, he'd try again.

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k1ngpin42 · 2 months

Text

Hey guys, this is my first post so I’ll need to set up some ground rules, feel free to skip.

First of all I write NSFW/18+ content, but I will write other content upon request. If you are a minor, evaluate whether or not you will interact with my content at your own risk, but if you find it innaproopitate, please scroll.

I’m an Abby girly, but this is just a Dina fic to test the waters, a full Abby NSFW fic will be released on my page soon too.

The plot dragged on more than I would have liked, I’ll have the smut in bold if u want to skip to that ;)

———————————————————

Comforting Dina after Ellie leaves

You were relatively new to Jackson. You had been picked up by Jesse’s patrol when moving through a dangerous part of town and had been offered a place there if you could pull your weight. You are a good shot, and cook, for that matter, so finding your place wasn’t too difficult. Still, you felt like an outsider to people who had been there most or all of their lives, and Dina was one of the people who made the adjustment the smoothest.

You always felt safe with her, and had even developed feelings. When you watched her kiss Ellie that night in town, you let your heart break for the last time before moving on.

At least, you thought you had moved on. You still thought about her every day, even if you tried to push the thoughts away.

You were coming back from a regular supply route when you spotted a girl on a horse. She had beautiful, silky black hair in a bun and was wearing a pale yellow flannel.

Was that…?

“It’s Dina!” Someone called excitedly from the gate.

A sharp sensation ran through your body and you found yourself letting out a shaky breath you weren’t aware you had been holding.

Dina. The girl who in the middle of a fucking outbreak, has more fire than a group of soldiers combined. The girl who makes dumb jokes that only she could make sound so sweet. The girl who’s smile was brighter than any light the fireflies so desperately wanted to find, the girl you…liked.

You pull the reins and approach the gate swiftly, leaving your patrol group behind.

When you dismount at the gate and lock eyes with her, it was as if all your pain was, not forgotten, but almost gone. As if Dina had stuck bandaids over the wound.

Dina lets out an excited gasp and runs at you, holding you in her arms tightly.

“I was hoping you’d be here.” She speaks quietly, still smiling as she pulls away from the hug. You nod, barely looking into her eyes as you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Is everything okay? Why’s Ellie not with you guys?” You ask as you plant a soft kiss on JJ’s forehead.

A pale look touches Dina’s ordinarily warm features, and you know immediately what that look implies.

“Oh…oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine. She’s gone.” Dina says, forcing a soft smile and ignoring the tears in her eyes.

“We’ll have a patrol pick up your stuff tomorrow.” Mariah says, approaching Dina and giving her a hug herself.

Mariah walks behind you, leaning in to your ear.

“Look after her, you’re dismissed from your duties today, your only job is putting a smile on that girl, okay?” She whispers, and Dina seems too lost in her own head to notice.

You nod. “Of course, thank you.”

You take her hand and lead her through the town.

“You hungry?” You ask, eyes wide with worry. She nods.

“Yeah, actually, but I don’t really want to be smothered by people right now.”

“Oh, sorry do you want me to-“

“No, I want you to stay.” She reaffirms, and you nod, still feeling considerably nervous.

You walk past the butcher and the man working there smiles brightly.

“It’s great to have you back Din’s!” Dina forces a smile again.

“Yea…thanks.” She says.

“Uh…What can I get you guys? It’s on me today.” The man says again. You nod and look at the options.

“I’ll get some of those sausages and I know it’s a stupid question but, do you have any steak?” He laughs.

“The answer to that would be no, but Dina can have my sandwich, I was saving it for later but it’s the real good stuff, had to give some trading cards and ammo but, I’m only the cook, what would I do with ammo anyways.”

“Kill me some steak maybe?” You remark, making Dina smile.

“I’m pretty sure he would kill the cow…I don’t think you can “kill steak” Dina informs her, an amused expression still evident.

“Potato potato Dina.” She turns to face the man again.

“What’s in it?” Dina asks.

“Premium pork-“

“She’s Jewish…” You say, instinctively. She looks at you and the man just has a confused expression.

“So…?”

“Well Jewish people typically don’t eat Pork or…shellfish, so-“

“Oh sorry, I didn’t know.

“How did you know that?” Dina asks. You shrug.

“You told me you were Jewish so I read a book about it.” You explain, matter-of-factly. She looks impressed, but doesn’t say anything.

The man hands you the bag with the meat inside.

“Thanks.” You say, leading Dina away again.

“Is there anyone you want to say hi to?” You question. You can hear the snow crunch under your feet. She shakes her head.

“Not today, not like this.” You nod.

“I’ll take you back to yours then, grill you up some lunch. Smothered in onion right?”

“The smellier the better.” She laughs weakly.

When you get to her place, the cold air hits you square on and you both shiver.

“Fuck it’s cold.” Dina remarks, and you can’t help but laugh at her bluntness.

“I’ll get a fire going.” You tell her, taking the lighter out of your pocket. You turn the power on and put the sausage in the fridge.

“I really need a shower…” Dina admits, and you turn to look at her again.

“Uh…alright, yeah I’ll just…I’ll just wait here.”

“Thanks.” She says, walking up to her room and folding up some clothes by her bed.

You then see her turn on the hot water generator and step in to the shower.

You wait by the fire for 5 minutes, then 10. Then, a faint voice over the bathroom exhaust.

“Hey can you come in here please?” You stand up, nervously and make your way to the bathroom, opening the door only a fraction and turning around so you can’t see her.

“I’m here…” You explain, your voice sounding more high pitched than usual and making you cringe.

“I couldn’t find a towel and it’s freezing out. Can you try and find one for me?” She asks. Your cheeks, now a new shade, shape into a nervous smile.

“Of course, where should I look?”

“My room, it’s at the top.”

“Sure.”

————————————

When you return, you see Dina, completely exposed, standing in front of you out of the shower.

You immediately turn around and shut your eyes, bumping into the door during the commotion. She chuckles.

“Turn around.” She instructs, and you do so with your hand over your eyes. Dina rolls her eyes, grabbing your hand and placing it back down.

“What are-“ You don’t even know what to say, you don’t even know what words are anymore. Instead, you just admire her body, the way her complexion paints her body like the artwork it is. The way her hips curve out ever so slightly in ways that her devilish clothing concealed.

“Why didn’t you write me?” She asks, trying not to smile at your currently dropped jaw.

“I um…” With her permission, you now glance at her breasts. You try to convince yourself you’ve never thought about what they might look like before, but you give up trying to convince yourself of that and decide they are more beautiful than anything you have or could have imagined.

“Did you not get my letters?” She asks, and now you look back to her eyes.

“Um…I did.” You admit, feeling the heat spread to the back of your neck now.

“Ah, so you just didn’t want to respond?” You roll your eyes.

“That’s not it.”

“Then what?” She asks, sounding more angry than you would have thought. She lets out a deep breath.

“I thought about you all the time, you know? Did you ever think about me?”

“All the time. But how was I supposed to respond? ‘Dear Dina, I’m so happy you and your girlfriend decided to raise sheep and a baby together away from everyone, I’d go visit but I have duty, send my regards to Ellie?’

“Okay, okay, but you could have at least kept me informed, tell me about your life, I mean you could have been dead for all I know.”

“You wouldn’t have believed that.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself. You may have never missed a shot with a rifle, you may not be the kind of girl to go into a house without taking out every single infected first, but I hate to break it to you, you’re not invincible. As unlikely at it would have been, you could have been dead.”

"Fine. But you wouldn’t have cared what I had to say anyway. ‘Dear Dina, I woke up, had breakfast, went on patrol with another stranger who I wished on everything was you instead, but they weren't. I went home, showered and slept like I do every day.”

“I would have cared. I do.” She mutters. You sigh.

“Well I’m sorry. It was just hard for me, hearing you so happy with someone so…”

Dina’s eyebrows raise.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have.”

“Finish your sentence.” Dina argues. You take a deep breath.

“Stupid. She was stupid to have left you, I never would.”

“Yeah well, Joel was the only person Ellie loved.”

“You don’t really believe that…”

“Well to think she truly loved me and chose to leave anyway for a bit of revenge hurts even worse.” You don’t know what to say, you just nod and hand her her towel. She tosses it on the ground.

“Want to hear what I left out in my letters?”

You’re still blushing over her naked body, but nod.

“sure.”

“Dear (reader) I’m trying to be happy with Ellie and JJ and yet all I can think about is you. Sometimes Ellie treats me like I’m nothing and I know why she does, but it hurts to think how well you would treat me if you were here. You’d probably tell me, “it’s okay…” She pauses. “I’m here…” You’d say.” You don’t know how to react to this, so you just keep listening.

“Dear (reader), Ellie left today, and even though it hurt, like nothings hurt before, I feel like a horrible person.” You walk towards her, looking upset at her words.

“Why would you feel like a horrible person?” Dina lowers her head, looking ashamed.

“Because even though I did love her, when she left it felt freeing, and then I saw you at that gate and it felt as if the part of me she took was never really gone at all.”

“Dina…”

“No, don’t fight it.” She says, grabbing your face and placing a warm kiss on your mouth. You sink into the heat of the kiss, tasting her more passionately now. You pull away from the kiss and you see her eyes, consumed with darkened lust.

“Dina.” You say again, more stern this time.

“You broke up with Ellie only a few weeks ago, you’re still hurting and I will NOT be your rebound. Not when I have spent almost an entire yer lo…” You stop yourself.

“You mean a lot to me Dina, I’m not going to ruin this-“

“Please.” Dina says, kissing your neck and making your legs feel weak as a result.

“I’ve been craving you for longer than you could ever realise. I didn’t even truly know till…till I saw you just now” She says between breaths, wrapping her arms over your neck to pull you into a hug. The warmth of her bare skin is elevating, and it feels like every sensation you experience is heightened.

“I’m not going to take advantage of you Dina.”

“You think I’m unattractive?” She asks, and you pull away from the hug, putting a hand on her face.

“Dina, when I look at you I don’t just see my best friend, I see the most beautiful of women. The girl I have liked since I first came to Jackson.” You explain, feeling emotional to bring these thoughts to words.

“You are a rare jewel, and I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I know you think I’m not acting on logic, but there has always been something between us. Ellie…she was like an addiction, something I thought I needed to function. I always had to be one way with her, but with you I feel happy, safe. I’ve dreamt of this ever since Ellie and I broke up and I spent the whole ride here just wishing you would feel it back.”

Smutttttttt ya’lllll

—————————————————————

“I….don’t want you to regret this.”

“Then don’t give me anything to regret.” Dina speaks smoothly, kissing you deeply again. You sigh into her mouth and let your tongues dance as your hands slowly lower to her shoulders, your fingers gently trailing her cold skin, still damp and glistening with small water droplets.

You push her back against the sink, the air between you two barely existent as you gasp excitedly and desperately between kisses.

You lower yourself, putting yourself into a position between her legs.

“Can I?” You ask, and Dina gleams at the indication of what you want to do, her head leaning back with anticipation.

You take a moment to admire her cunt, drawing a line between her folds all the way up to her clit with your thumb.

She’s already wet. You can tell by the way your finger glides in, the way she glistens, it turns you on even more, if that were possible. Then, with your thumb still on her clit, you start doing tricks with your index finger, enjoying the sounds of her shaky breaths as you finger her with just the tip of your index finger.

You continue with your fingers, pushing your entire index finger inside this time. She cries out, moaning in pleasure. You remove your finger and suck your index and middle finger before putting them both inside her. You doubt it would have made a differences, she was so wet anyway it would have gone in like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. After caressing the inside of her cunt with your fingers for a few minutes, you decide to finally feed the burning desire to taste her, to feel her come undone on your tongue.

Without so much as a warning, you start eating away at her cunt, sucking and licking sloppily, savouring every inch of her like it’s a 3 course meal.

“F….fucking h… mmm…” Dina struggles, biting her middle finger softly in a barely successful attempt of suppressing the sounds escaping her lips.

You smile, using this as an excuse for more air before going back and attacking her again with your tongue. She tastes so fucking good. You could get drunk off the taste, in fact, you would be a fucking alcoholic if that was the case.

“Oh shit…Oh sh…mmm….so-“ She struggles, letting out a deeper moan this time. “good.”

You move your tongue faster in circular motions on her clit while sucking on her lower lips at the same time. By this point, anything Dina tries to say is inaudible, replaced with fast paced moans and whimpers.

“S….s…mmm…..so..clo-“ She cries out. You don’t stop. You keep going even after it pulses in your mouth and your throat is filled with your new favourite taste. The taste of her.

When it becomes too much for her, she pulls your face away, breathing deeply, eyes slightly shut from the overstimulation.

“Was that…” You hesitate, face red. “Good?” Dina laughs.

“Fuck off.” She manages, still in a stage of ecstasy.

“I don’t want to move too fast or anything but…do you want to have…” You say, clearing your throat “um…” Dina smiles again, nodding.

“Fuck yeah.” With this, you pick her up and bring her to the bedroom just outside the door. As soon as you two are on the bed, she practically tears your shirt off, immediately kissing all over your body. She flips you so her body is on top of yours.

“You look so fucking hot Dina…” You breathe out as she bites down slightly on your neck. She rolls her eyes playfully.

She pulls off your underwear, tossing it on the floor beside her bed.

“I want to do it to you too.” Dina says casually, and you initially feel insecure about letting her, but you agree.

“Mm.” You say as she disappears under the covers. You then feel her hands pulling your legs apart and you help part the way for her. You practically shiver as the starts tonguing your pussy delicately, with a lot more precision than when you did it to her, as if starved.

She then started sucking and the moan that left your mouth was instantaneous. She keeps going and you feel yourself started to soak as you claw on to the bed sheets below.

“Feels so good.” You say, and she keeps going till you feel your body tremble and pulse. She looks up at your, feeling satisfied with your expression. She wipes her mouth with her thumb and then sucks on it for a second, maintaining eye contact with you.

So goes back to the previous position, pulling your body down so it’s below her.

“It’s still cold.” She states as the bareness of your bodies connect. You smirk beneath her.

“Whatever will we do about it?”

“Just shut the fuck up and fuck me.” She orders, and so you let her have her way.

She pushes your leg down and positions herself so she is sitting over it, then you feel her pussy rub on yours and your eyes immediately roll back at the sensation. Without the pleasure of your clit even in the equation yet, you feel as if you’re melting.

Then, she pulls you in closer, moving you just right and making you moan desperately.

“Dina please…” You sigh out as she moves her hips painfully slow in a circular motion.

“J…just like that.” You say again.

Her hands are on your thighs when she starts to pick up speed. She’s moaning too now, her beautiful features looking even better covered in sweat and pleasure.

“Faster….please?” You ask, your voice sounding more helpless than you would have liked. She continues at her current pace, a cruel smirk on her mouth.

“This…” She gasps, riding the sensation. “Is for not stopping earlier when I had already…” You try to increase your own pace and she shoves your legs back down with her full body strength.

“You can come when I say.” She gasps, wrapping her fingers softly around your neck.

“You like that?”

“Mmm.” You reply, eyes closed shut. It isn’t long before a familiar sensation stirs in the pit of your stomach, as bad as you wanted to come, and also didn’t want this to end, it was the best and most conflicting thing you had ever experienced. ,

Dina finally complied and went faster, and you sing out a chorus of moans and whispers.

“I’m gonna cum…” Dina says, still holding you close. “Cum with me.” She says again. You nod, kissing her quickly as you both release on top of each other, liquid lining your bodies and trailing down onto the bed.

You just hold each other, ignoring the stickiness of the situation and letting comfortable silence fall before you too fall back onto the bed, looking into her eyes fondly.

“Do you…regret it yet?” You ask. She shakes her head.

“The only thing I regret is wasting all that water, I’m going to need another shower after all that…excitement.” You both laugh. You lean into her ear and whisper, “We can save water by showering together?” Her smirk widens and she nods.

“The things we do for this town.”

“Mhm.”

#dina tlou #dina x reader #tlou #tlou2 #smut #18+ content #ellie williams 18+#ellie x fem reader

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rocknrollbabe14 · 8 months

Text

I Wanna Be Yours (Part Four)

Rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Cursing, implied cheating (not actually happening), drinking, depressing behaviors, beginning of smut. If I left anything out, please let me know.

Read part one here, part two here, and part three here.

Over the next several days, you had a pep in your step. Work didn’t seem so stressful or over-barring, knowing Joe was coming in the next few days to see you. Even your co-workers questioned your mood change, asking what had changed in your life. Work was the same routine, just a different day. Joe texted you as you left, asking you to call him when you got home and settled in from work. You pulled into your driveway, shut your car off, and grabbed your purse before going to unlock the door. The house was quiet, reminding you that you were still alone—without him.

Your phone dinged a couple of times, but you assumed it was messages from Joe. Every now and then, when he was really excited to talk to you, it wasn’t unusual for him to send some back-to-back messages. Slipping off your heels, you rubbed your feet easily already feeling the blisters already coming on. You walked to your kitchen, pulling out a wine glass. Another ding from your phone. You ignored it, continuing to your fridge to grab the red wine you had bought two days ago at the grocery store.

Pouring your glass of wine, you heard your phone ding again. You rolled your eyes, a smile plastered across your lips as you finally decided to see what he was on about.

-Hey. Y/Nickname.

-You might want to see this.

You scrolled down, your heart dropping into your stomach. You heard yourself audibly gasp. The hot tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, almost dropping your phone. Below the second message, there was a picture of Joe and another girl you didn’t recognize It wasn’t you—that was all you knew. Your friend also sent the context of the photo she had found. It had been submitted anonymously and the source had said it was recently in London.

Part of you was instantly angry, feeling like you had been betrayed and lied to. The other part of you wanted to cry because you felt like he had been truthful and you were beginning to have feelings for him. You were stuck in limbo, caught between a rock and a hard place. Finally, the other shoe had fallen. You studied the picture, trying to make sense of it. But it didn’t make sense.

All you wanted to do now was get drunk and forget tonight even happened. You knew drinking wasn’t the solution but it would be the bandaid for the situation. You threw your dress clothes off, leaving your bra and panties on before turning the lights off and getting in bed.

Your phone dinged.

You dreaded picking it up.

-Hey, love. Want me to call now? Did you make it home safe?

You sighed, tossing your phone back on the bed. You weren’t in the mood to talk to him. There was no way you wanted to deal with this right now. You couldn’t. Those hot tears that pooled in the corner of your eyes were finally sliding down your cheeks as you took another sip of wine. You lost track of time, lost deep in your own worry and thoughts before your phone dinging pulled you out.

-Are you okay, love?

You ignored it, laying it back down. You finished off your glass of wine, already beginning to feel woozy. Most of the time, you didn’t drink a lot. Turning on your tv, you snuggled up into bed. You closed your eyes, trying to lull yourself to sleep. You wished you could go back and be in his arms again—when everything was fine. That wasn’t happening. As your phone rang out, your eyes shot open. You picked it up to see none other than Joe calling.

You silenced it, immediately putting your phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode. You weren’t sure how many more times he called before you managed to slip into a deep sleep, forgetting today and the world. When you woke up, you felt like you were in a daze, thankful it was the weekend. Joe was supposed to come Monday and you had scheduled to take some personal time off after Monday. You groaned, feeling a headache from hell coming on as you leaned over and grabbed your phone, curious as to how many times he had called and texted.

-Tried to call, no answer. Is everything okay?

You had around six missed calls and a couple of text messages.

-Sorry, guess you’re asleep. Hope you sleep well, love. Call me tomorrow?

“No chance.”, you mumbled, throwing your phone back into the bed.

Today seemed like a perfect day to day-drink.

Back in London, Joe was trying to distract himself from not talking to you. It had been several hours. Truthfully, he was worried about you. It was evening, almost time for bed. He ended up at a pub with Wesley, loud music blaring with a martini by his side on the bar counter. He sipped it lightly, continuing to look down at his phone for any hopes you would message him back.

“Still no answer?”, Wesley asked, taking a seat beside him.

He had been up, working the crowd and trying to scope out if there were any beautiful women. He and a blonde had chatted it up, Wesley managing to get her number before he came back over to Joe and took a seat.

“Nope.”, Joe sighed, taking another sip of his martini.

“What’s wrong with her?”, Wesley questioned aloud, taking a drink of his beer the bartender had just sat down in front of him.

Joe shrugged, letting out a long sigh. “No idea. I don’t think I’ve done anything.”

“I’m sure you haven’t.”, Wesley reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe she just realized this is going to be too hard for her to handle.”

Joe eyed him, brown eyes burning into him. “Wow, thanks, Wes.”

Wesley shrugged. “I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s better she does this now rather than later. You’re already very attached. You don’t need to have your heart broken again.”

Joe glared at him, getting up from the bar. “I’m gonna try her again.”

He walked outside, the cool wind whipping against him, his peacoat blowing softly in the wind. He dialed your number, his heart racing. He hoped you’d answer and prove Wesley and himself wrong. His hands shook as he dialed the number, placing the phone up to his ear. It rang and ran for what felt like forever before kicking over to your voicemail.

“Hey, you’ve reached Y/N. I can’t come to the phone right now, so please leave a name, number, and a brief message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

The automated voice came on, telling him to leave a message.

“Hey, love. It’s Joe. I have tried calling several times and texting. I haven’t heard back from you. Kinda worried about you. Can you give me a callback? Thanks. Bye.”

He slid his phone back into his pocket, feeling defeated before walking back inside. He maneuvered his way through the crowd, making his way back to Wesley at the bar.

“Any luck?”, Wesley asked as Joe took his seat back at the bar.

“What do you think?”, Joe sighed, bitterly as he downed his martini and ordered another one.

Wesley’s eyes widened as he watched his best friend come undone in front of him. Joe hadn’t cared if a girl didn’t message him back or call him the morning after. He didn’t care until he met you. Joe looked down at his hands wrapped around the bottom of the glass. Wesley was trying to think, rack his brain on how to get Joe out of this funk.

“She has a friend.”, Wesley perked up.

Joe glared at him. “No thanks, Wes.”

Wesley sighed. “Okay, fine. What if we just hang out at my place?”

Joe shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Wesley sighed again, rolling his eyes easily. “You don’t need to be alone.”

Joseph finally relented, agreeing. Wesley could only stand by painfully as his best friend downed five martinis. His eyes widened, knowing this was not like Joe to act like this. Wesley watched as he downed his fifth martini, grabbing Joe’s arm easily.

“You’re cut off.”, Wesley eyed him.

Joe rolled his brown eyes, hazy as he was drunk. “Oh fuck off, Wes.”

As Joe became drunker, his language became filthier. Wesley looked surprised, a bit taken aback by Joseph’s change in mood. But Wesley also knew usually whatever mood you were in when you got drunk was intensified as you became more intoxicated. Joe glared at him before looking back at the bar, obviously not in a good or clear headspace.

“Joe.”

“What?”, Joe snapped.

“This isn’t like you, you’re drunk.”

Joe laughed bitterly. “What are you? My mum?”

“Well, she certainly wouldn’t like your behavior.”

Joe scoffed, rolling his eyes. Truth is, Joe felt like if he got drunk he’d have a better chance of not thinking about you. He wanted to be drunk—anything to get you off his mind for a little while. Everything was starting to blur, the bar and Wes even looking hazy. Wesley wasn’t going to let him make any bad decisions or at least, he’d try. Joe checked his phone, the screen was blurry but no message from you. No call from you. What the hell had he done to you to deserve this? To his knowledge, everything had been going great.

“Let’s go, Joe.”, Wesley got up, paying the tab.

Joe rolled his eyes and groaned as he stood up, almost falling over and clearly unsteady from how drunk he was. Wesley quietly apologized to the bartender and bystanders, ushering Joe away from the bar.

“You know you’re a total buzzkill.”, Joe slurred as Wesley wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.”, Wesley agreed, anything to get Joe calmed down.

Wesley finally managed to maneuver and dodge his and Joe’s way out of the crowded pub. The night air hit him in the face, a relief compared to being in the hot, crowded pub and fighting with Joe.

“I’m calling a cab.”, Wesley sighed as he whistled, immediately hailing a cab.

“We could walk to your flat.”, Joe argued, speech slurred.

“Nope, mate. You’re way too drunk and I can’t carry you.”

The taxi pulled over, Wesley ushering Joe in first in hopes the paparazzi or gossip pages didn’t catch him completely wasted. Wesley looked around quickly, not noticing anything off-kilter as he pushed Joe inside.

“Not so rough.”, Joe whined, looking completely offended.

Wesley sighed, getting into the cab and closing the door. Joe closed his eyes, leaning back against the seat. Wesley, once again, apologized for Joe’s drunken behavior as he told the cab driver his address. The short ride back to his flat seemed to take forever, Wesley counting down the minutes and hoping Joe didn’t spill his guts everywhere. How embarrassing would that be? They finally pulled up to the curb near his flat, Wesley getting out first before trying to help a drunken Joe back into his apartment.

It wasn’t an easy task to get your drunk best mate out of the taxi.

“Use your legs.”, Wesley spat.

“Can’t—”, Joe argued back.

“Ugh, you’re making this really hard.”

“So are you!”

Wesley groaned, knowing he had a long night ahead of him. Noticing his watch, it was one in the morning. Most bars didn’t open until eleven in Soho or London. Wesley finally managed to drag Joe out of the taxi, throwing his arm around his shoulder.

“Try and help me get into my apartment?”

Joe scoffed. “Fine.”

Wesley sighed as they entered the apartment building, somehow making it to the elevator and up to Wesley’s floor. Wesley struggled to hold Joe up and pull his keys out of his pocket, but somehow he managed to make it work. Wesley was relieved as the door opened to his apartment, getting Joe inside and to the couch, finally letting him slump over like a rag doll.

“Wes.”

“Yes, Joe?”

“Do you think—she hates—hates me?”

“I don’t know, Joe. But you need to sleep. You’re wasted and you’re going to be so hung over in the morning.”

Joe groaned, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call her again.”, he slurred.

“No—no more calling her. Sleep.”, Wesley ordered, taking his phone out of his hands.

“It’s not your choice.”, Joe argued, glaring at Wesley as he tried to raise himself off the couch but to no avail.

Wesley laid his phone on the counter before digging through the fridge to find a bottle of water. “Tonight, it is.”

“What do you have against—her?”

Wesley groaned as he turned his attention to his cabinet, hunting for some ibuprofen or Tylenol, knowing Joe would need it for the hell of the headache he was going to have.

“I don’t have anything against her—I don’t know her.”

“You’re so negative about us.”, Joe slurred as he took his jacket off.

Wesley continued to search through the bottles in his cabinet. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes—you are.”

He wasn’t sure how much more of a love-sick Joe he could handle. Part of him debated messaging or calling you himself, telling you what a wreck his best friend was in and it was all because of you. Part of Wesley was angry at you.

“Not negative, just honest.”

Wesley finally found his bottle of Tylenol, closing his cabinet.

“You don’t like her and haven’t—even met her.”, Joe hiccuped easily, laying back on Wesley’s couch.

Grabbing the bottle of water and two Tylenol, he came over to the living room, standing over Joe.

“It’s not that I don’t like her.”, Wesley sighed. “She’s American. She doesn’t live in the same country and isn’t used to our lifestyle. Plus, you’re famous. How do you know she doesn’t have an ulterior motive? You don’t exactly have a great track record since becoming famous overnight, you know.”

Joe groaned as Wesley handed him the water and Tylenol, instructing him to take them.

“She didn’t even know—I was famous when she met me.”

“She can pretend.”

“She wasn’t pretending, Wes. She actually cared about—getting to know me.”, Joe slurred as he sat up, popping the Tylenol in his mouth and chasing it down with some water before setting the bottle back on the coffee table and sinking back down into Wesley’s couch.

Wesley finally nodded his head. “Okay, so maybe she wasn’t pretending. But you and I both know that your life has changed a lot since you became famous. You have no privacy. You’re not a normal British bloak anymore.”

Joe looked at him. “What’s your point?”

“I’m just saying, be careful. It’s not promising she’s already ignoring you.”

“I feel like I fucked up somehow.”, Joe groaned.

“When are you supposed to leave on your flight?”

“Monday.”

“That’s two days away.”

Joe nodded. “I know.”

“Are you still going to go? Even if she doesn’t talk to you?”

“I don’t know. It might be—the only chance I have.”

Wesley sighed, nodding. “Why don’t we get some sleep?”

Joe nodded. “Fine.”

His eyes were starting to get heavy, exhausted from the day and drinking so much. It was finally catching up with him. Wesley went into his room, opened his closet door, and got one of the few extra blankets he had. Walking back into the living room, he threw it over Joe easily and turned off the lights before locking the door. He wasn’t sure how this situation would pan out. It was hard to understand or relate to, but he was doing his best to at least try and understand where Joe was coming from.

But was it necessary to be hung up on one girl? Joe could have any girl he wanted. There were girls hitting up his celebrity dating profile left and right—but he chose to ignore them. He only wanted you. He was focused on you, or at least that’s what you had thought. Wesley didn’t get it, but he was trying to understand.

The next morning Wesley was awakened to a horrid sound—his best friend puking his guts out before groaning in agony. Wesley sighed, half annoyed as he got out of bed, rolling his eyes at Joe for how dumb he had been. However, he was a love-sick fool. Maybe he’d cut him a little slack. Wesley opened the door to find Joe hung over the commode, pale as a ghost and tears running down his face.

“How long have you been awake?”, Wesley groaned, rubbing his own eyes.

“Just like ten minutes.”, Joe breathed, chest heaving.

“Woke up sick, hm?”, Wesley teased, crossing his arms.

Joe shot him a death glare. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well if it isn’t the consequences of our own actions?”

“Shut up Wes.”

Wesley couldn’t help but chuckle lightly as he gave Joe a cold washcloth. There had been many occasions where Wesley had to bail Joe out, but there was an equal number where Joe had done the same for him. Wesley wasn’t trying to be an asshole, he was just trying to look out for him. Joe was one of his best mates—if not his best mate and he didn’t want to see Joe get hurt again.

“I’ll leave you alone. Want a pillow and blanket too?”, Wesley asked cheekily.

“I’m sure I’ll be camping out in here.”, Joe groaned, leaning his head against the cabinet of the vanity and sink.

“Be back. More Tylenol?”

“Not sure I’ll be able to keep it down.”, Joe sighed, feeling another wave of nausea hit him.

“We can try.”

Joe spent the entire day on the bathroom floor, taking a short nap between his spells. He was miserable, groaning.

Wesley went in the bathroom to check on him periodically, finding him laying on the pillow and covered up with the blanket he had provided him, his hand over his face and groaning in agony.

“Wes—I fucked up.”

“You could say that again.”

“No—I mean, yes I shouldn’t have drank. But I’ve got to catch that plane Monday.”

“Um….”

“I know, I know. You think it’s stupid.”

“Joe….”

“Please, Wes. Just let me figure this out.”

“She hasn’t messaged you back.”, Wesley blurted out.

Joe looked at him, mouth agape. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of his sails. Wesley sighed as he put his hand over his face, hating to be the one to break the news. Truth was, Wesley had checked his phone all day—every hour to see if there was any correspondence from you. There were no calls or text messages and he knew something was clearly wrong. You were ghosting Joe and he wasn’t thrilled about it. So, as his best mate, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He had texted you, but Joe didn’t know.

-Hey, I know you don’t know me but I’m Joe’s best friend, Wesley. I usually wouldn’t poke my nose where it doesn’t belong but he’s a wreck without you. I’m not sure what he has done and neither is he. Could you just tell him what he did wrong? Thanks. X

Unfortunately, there was no answer. Wesley felt like had tried and done his best but there was nothing more he could do.

“What do I do, Wes?”

“What do you feel is right?”, Wesley asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of his bathroom.

“I need to see her. I could set things straight in person.”

“What time does your plane leave?”

“Six thirty in the morning.”

“Is your stuff packed?”

Joe nodded. “Yeah, but it’s at my house.”

“Give me your house keys and I’ll go get it.”, Wesley sighed, outstretching his hand.

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. You’re my best mate—and I may think this is a little crazy, but you really care for this girl, don’t you?”

“I do.”, Joe admitted. “I want to fix my mistakes.”

Wesley nodded, telling Joe he’d be back in twenty minutes give or take, leaving him alone in the bathroom floor.

The next morning Joe and Wesley both groaned as the sound of their alarms went off—five-thirty came early. Joe rushed, throwing slacks and a button-up on before sliding his black peacoat on. Wesley kept it casual, yawning as they got into his car to head to the airport. Joe remembered taking you to the airport, the waves of memories hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“You’ll call when you land?”, Wesley asked, eyes on him.

“Yes, but then I’m surprising her at work.”, Joe grabbed his suitcase, closed the back door, and prepared to close the front.

“Okay, just let me know everything’s good.”

“I will. See ya later, Wes.”

“Later, Joe.”

Wesley watched as Joe closed the passenger door, making his way into the airport. Wesley hoped Joe knew what he was doing. It was all in his hands now. Deep down inside, Joe hoped the same.

__________________________________________________________________________

Joe felt extremely tired and jet lagged as the announcement came that they would be landing soon. He had a nap, but still felt so rough. But you were worth it—you were worth everything to him already. After landing and signing for his rental car, he took a deep breath. He felt anxious, nervous, and like he was out of his element. He wasn’t used to having to chase anyone—not in the last little bit. He was having girls throw themselves at him.

He wasn’t a pompous asshole who thought he deserved that. His heart began to beat faster as he walked around the airport, heading for baggage claim. He got his suitcase, holding his ticket, and could visibly see his hands shaking. He was nervous—he felt like the room was hot, his body was on fire, and could feel his blood pressure was through the roof. After loading his luggage in the rental car, he turned on some air to temporarily cool himself down—even if it was still winter here in the States as well.

He looked up directions to the doctor’s office you worked at, you had told him before. But he made a stop at the local floral shop, the florist shocked and amused to hear a British guy. He got it often, smiling and laughing it off. His hands were nervously shoved in his pockets. The florist asked him if it was for someone special and he nodded, telling her a little bit about you. He took the arrangement and went back to the car, taking a deep breath. Was he really about to see you even after days of no communication?

Starting the car, he closed his eyes for a brief moment before following the GPS. He watched as the time decreased, closer to reaching you. One more right turn and he would be there—he’d get to see you gain. Suddenly, he felt his palms become sweaty feeling like they’d slip on the steering wheel. He pulled into the parking lot, feeling very uneasy.

“You can do this.”, he breathed, closing his eyes. “You can do this, Joe.”

He opened the car door, shutting and locking it behind him after he grabbed your flower arrangement. He cleared his throat and opened the door to the doctor’s office. Even if he didn’t feel confident, he was trying his best to be. His heart skipped a beat as he saw you looking down, working on the computer. You didn’t even notice him which wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe it would give him time to speak before you shot him down. He walked up to the window, clearing his throat one more time.

You didn’t look up as you slid the window open. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for Y/N.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, looking up at him. There he was in the flesh. There was no running now, no avoiding the situation.

“Joe?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d come and see you love.”

“Why are you here at my job? I’m working.”, you hissed.

“I couldn’t wait to see you. Can we talk?”

You scoffed, looking back at your computer and ignoring him, hoping he’d take the hint. “Talk about what? There’s nothing to talk about.”

Joe was taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

Your voice became lower. “You know what you did.”, you hissed, trying not to draw attention to you both.

“I’m sorry? I don’t recall. I’d like to know what I did to deserve the silent treatment for days.”

His response was slightly cheeky.

“Look, can we not do this at my job? I get off in an hour. Can you wait until I’m off?”, you sighed, hand over your face.

“Okay.”, he agreed.

“Okay. Now, please move away from my window in case patients come in.”

He did as you asked, feeling wilted. The hour and ten minutes he had to wait felt like an eternity. You came out of the office, locking the door behind you. He finally got a good look at you in your plum button-up and black pencil skirt that hugged your thighs just right. You had black tights on and heels, carrying your purse on your shoulder with your winter coat on. He felt his throat become dry as he swallowed harshly.

“Can I at least have a hug?”, he asked, lowly just in the tone that usually drove you crazy.

“Joe.”, you groaned. “Look, I’m really not sure why you came all the way out here.”

His face fell. “To see you? We’ve talked about it ever since you left London.”, he laughed, confused.

You sighed. “That was before—”

“Before what? What have I done? Can we at least sit down and talk about it? I’ve flown all the way over here. Can you at least give me that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, we can at my house. But you’re not staying.”

He agreed—he would agree to whatever you wanted to just get a chance to explain himself. You told him to follow you to your house, not even accepting his flowers. He pulled in behind you, shutting the car off as you grabbed your purse and house keys, the wind picking up speed and a chill. He got out, carrying your flowers, and attempted to help you unlock your door but you brushed him off, finally getting it unlocked. Walking inside, he was met with the scent of coconut, one of your many scent diffusers.

You slid your coat and heels off, instantly feeling relief. It was good to be home, but your mind instantly reminded you that you would have to deal with your problem at hand. He wished things could be different as he followed you into your dimly lit kitchen before you flipped on the lights. You opened your fridge, immediately heading for the wine. Joe sat your flowers down on your island, shoving his hands in his pockets nervously.

“Look, Joe. It’s really admirable that you came all the way out here but I think you need to catch the first plane back to London.”

You could see the glisten in Joe’s brown eyes. “What’s going on? Just days ago, we were fine and you were excited to see me.”

You rolled your eyes as you popped the cork on your wine bottle, pouring some out into a glass. “You know exactly what you did. How long did you possibly think that you could date multiple girls and they wouldn’t find out?”

There was fire in your voice as you spat the last words of your sentence.

Joe looked taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

You scoffed. “Please don’t play dumb.”

“I’m not playing dumb—”

“Please just save the bullshit, it’s exhausting.”, you groaned as you took a sip of wine. “Explain this.”, you slid your phone across your marble countertop.

“May I?”, he asked, asking for permission to look at your phone.

“Go ahead. Please look at the picture and explain it to me. Make it make sense, Joe.”, you crossed your arms and leaned back against your fridge, taking another sip of your wine.

He wore a surprised expression on his face as he finally noticed what made you so upset.

“That’s not a recent picture. That’s me and one of my friends who just so happens to be a girl.”, he laughed lightly, trying to clear the air.

“Do you just like lying?”, you laughed bitterly before taking another sip of wine. “Bet you still have a celebrity dating profile, don’t you?”

“Y/N—”

“And you thought that bringing me these ugly, stupid flowers and flying all the way from London would make me forget this shit and just spread my legs the first chance I get for you—”

You were cut off by him pushing you against your fridge, a small gasp escaping you as his body was flush against yours. He was kissing you, his tongue tracing your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You gave in, feeling his tongue entangle yours. His hands found your hips as your hands brushed down his chest.

“I—only—fucking want you.”, Joe growled out, feral causing a knot in your lower stomach.

He went back to kissing you, your hands finding their way around his neck.

“You—mean—it?”, you asked between kisses.

“Mhmmm, I’m all yours, love. Promise…”

His hands moved from your waist to your shirt, beginning to unbutton your plum button-up. You sighed into his kisses with relief as he popped each button. He hummed as your black bra came into view, causing a smirk to spread across your lips.

“That’s sexy.”, he hummed between slow, passionate kisses.

“Mhm, you think so?”

He nodded. “Want—you—out of this skirt so bad.”

“What are you—waiting for?”, you teased back, breaking the kiss and looking into his brown eyes with want and need.

His hands brushed your bare waist, causing chill bumps to cascade down your skin. He picked you up in one swift motion, causing you to giggle and gasp before you both started kissing again—more slow and sensual than before. You had missed this, there was no denying it. You couldn’t help but run your hands through his curls, causing him to moan into your mouth. He bumped into your wall accidentally as he carried you upstairs to your bedroom, turning one of your pictures uneven and causing you both to break your kiss and laugh before he took his free hand to open the door.

He decided not to mention the empty wine bottle and glass on your dresser as he leaned over your bed and laid you down gently, breaking the kiss again. You sighed softly, looking up at him with longing eyes. It was driving him crazy. You let him take your unbuttoned shirt and toss it in the floor, just leaving you in your black bra and black pencil skirt with your black tights. He placed small kisses on the exposed part of your belly before his hands trailed over to the side zipper.

“Never got to see this look in London...”, he smirked, chuckling softly.

It was hard to explain but you felt safe and secure with him. Everything felt right.

You smirked. “Didn’t want to bore you with my business attire.”

“It’s really sexy—this skirt hugs your waist just right.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, love.”, he smirked as he grabbed the waist of your skirt, you lifted your hips up to help him get it off.

You hummed with satisfaction as he tossed your skirt in the floor, it joining the same place as your button-up. He took a minute to admire your half naked body before reaching for the hem of your black tights.

“I freeze in the office, okay?”, you looked up at him.

“No, it’s fine, love. It’s really sexy. Boudoir vibes.”, he chuckled as he tugged your tights gently down your legs gently as he leaned up to share a kiss with you.

Breaking the kiss, you lifted your hips up as he pulled them gently down and off your legs. He was taking extra time, being gentle as he took your right foot out of the bottom of your tights, admiring your toes.

“Red this time?”

“Uh, yeah—got a pedicure once I got home.”, you smirked.

“Sexy, love that color on you.”, he breathed as he leaned down to kiss you.

You felt the chills cascade up your body, a sigh escaping you.

“Wanna fuck you so bad—”, he moaned.

“Do it—please fucking do it.”, you begged.

"Accusing me of wanting another girl? I'm gonna make a mess of you."

"Promise?", you looked up at him.

"Oh, I promise.", he laughed before leaning down to kiss you.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson #joseph x reader #eddie imagines #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie x reader

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