#“F-finish the job Chris”

[thealmightytrashdump]

What if wesker really did "die" in re5, but uroboros continued to use his corpse as a vessel to continue surviving. So he essentially becomes an undead puppet. And once it comes across another human or animal, it absorbs that living creature and uses their body to continue surviving.

What if in re9, it shows up as some animalistic mindless monster that can't be killed like Lisa Trevor. So when the Chris/Wesker showdown happens, Chris initially thinks its just another boss but recognizes the black ooze as uroboros and then in a fit to survive, the uroboros monster shows Wesker's dead face to Chris to disarm him.

Of course Chris prevails* and manages to kill it via the re7-re8 crystalization then bomb method.

[likeumeanit9497]

| after hours c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris practically begs his best friend to massage his back, but after an awkward discovery, y/n finds it difficult to keep her hands -- and her eyes -- on the job.

warnings: smut; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; hand job; squirting; unprotected p in v; dirty talk(!!!!); 18+

notes: whew! long time no see! life has been putting me through the absolute ringer lately! i haven't felt like a real person in months! i still don't tbh! im working on it! but i have absolutely missed writing and tumblr and u all so much! pls forgive my absence on here i literally haven't even been able to open this app since october when my life went south. my semester is over now so i have one major thing off my plate, so im hoping i can be a bit more consistent with writing. I MISSED U ALL SO SO SO SO MUCH and i hope u enjoy this chrissy one shot that i started months ago and just finally finished it today. love u all <33333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“No Chris.” I chuckled, standing up from my couch and walking to my kitchen to put away our leftover dinner. “Please,” I heard him whine behind me, “My back is killing me Y/n.” I turned around, facing my best friend still sitting on the couch where I left him. I laughed at his fake expression of misery, and the hand pressed to his lower back was a nice touch. “Chris, you know I’ve made it a rule not to massage my friends in my free time.” I explained, putting my hands on my hips. He groaned dramatically. “But why? You have all your stuff in the next room!” He began standing up from the couch, being sure to make it seem like a painful struggle.

He was right. I was a licensed massage therapist, and had recently started my own practice from the comfort of my home. I had turned my den into a massage room, fully equipped with a massage table, calming music, and essential oils. But I had made it clear to all of my friends — especially Chris — that I wasn’t going to massage them after-hours. Of course, I would treat them free of charge, but they had to book during normal hours. I was brand new in this career, and I wanted to ensure professionalism right from the start.

“You already know why.” I replied, turning away from him and opening up the fridge to put away my leftovers. As I leaned down into the fridge, I gasped as I suddenly felt a hand press against my lower back. “Just right here.” Chris whispered behind me, circling his thumb along my lower back. “It’ll only take five minutes.” I shuddered at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch. Chris had a habit of turning on his sex appeal when he needed something from me, and even though him and I were only friends, it unfortunately worked.

I turned around and closed the fridge, coming face to face with my friend. His eyebrows were knit together in what I could only assume was faux pain, because there was a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair before pointing at the closed french doors leading to my massage room. “Go in there, take off your shirt and lay on the bed. Call me in when you’re under the sheet.”

A smile consumed his entire face, and before I could change my mind he walked over to the room and shut the door behind him.

Chris’s POV:

As I shut the door of the massage room behind me, I stood for a moment to take in the room. She had never let me in the room before, in fact she made it known that she considered it separate from her home and so she didn’t like going into it when she wasn’t working. I always joked around with her because of that, asking her if it was really a secret torture room, but as I saw it for the first time, I couldn’t help but smile. It was professional, but still had personal touches that made it clear that it was hers.

The lights were dim, enough to see clearly but dark enough that everything had a blurry haze to it. It smelled like that shit she diffuses in her bedroom — I think she told me once that it was lavender or something. I noticed the various candles dotted around the room, and took it upon myself to light a few of them. As I lit the last candle on the small table beside the bed, I noticed an old phone connected to a small speaker. Finding that the phone didn’t have a password, I opened it and hit play on the playlist that showed up first, smiling at the title: music that makes strangers fall into my bed.

I chuckled to myself. Not so professional, sweetheart.

Typical spa music filled the small space, and I couldn’t lie, it did add to the meditative atmosphere of the room. Looking at the massage table in the middle of the room, I remembered what I was actually in there for and felt a wave of excitement hit me. I hadn’t been lying when I told her that my back had been hurting — not exactly, at least — but I had definitely been exaggerating. The truth was, I just really wanted to see what her hands could do. Not wanting to waste any more time, I took of my clothes and climbed onto the table, slipping my lower half under the thin white sheet.

“Y/n!” I shouted, “I’m all set!”

Y/n’s POV:

From my place at the kitchen counter, I heard Chris’s voice and my stomach did a flip. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, I had given a few of my other friends massages before, but for some reason I had been dreading the idea of giving one to Chris. Maybe it was because him and I had such a playful relationship, and I was so used to being professional with my clients, I couldn’t quite envision how combining my two personalities would go. Still, I took a deep breath and headed for the room.

Once I opened the door, I noticed the candles were lit and soft music was already playing. Looking at Chris, laying face down on the table, I chuckled. “I see you made yourself comfortable.” I remarked. Heading towards him, I noticed the pile of his clothes on the floor, including his sweats and boxers. “Uh Chris,” I began, stopping at the top of his head, “I said you only had to take off your shirt, remember?” He lifted his head from the table, looking up at me briefly. “I know. It’s just that the pain goes pretty low down my back and I figured it would be easier to just take everything off.” There was a playful look in his eyes. “It’s what I’ve seen them do in the movies.” He added softly, making me chuckle.

“It does make it easier,” I replied, moving so that I was now standing on his right side. “It’s really just about what you’re comfortable with.” As I spoke, I began running my hands down his back, from his shoulders down to his tail bone, to check for any tightness. He remained silent underneath me as I applied pressure on certain areas. “So, you said right here is sore?” I asked, pressing down on the same spot that he had when demonstrating on me. I heard a muffled hiss and watched as he nodded his head. “And the pain kind of shoots down to here.” He added, awkwardly moving his arm behind him and trailing it from where my thumb was down to just below the white sheet.

I hummed in acknowledgment, pumping the bottle of massage oil beside me and rubbing it in my hands. “Okay, I’ll get started. Let me know if the pressure is too much.” I said the same thing that I said to all of my clients robotically, before working against his muscle. It was pretty tight, but definitely not as bad as he was making it seem before on the couch. Like I do with my other clients, I stayed silent to encourage him to relax against my pressure. A few groans of pain fell from his lips as I worked, but he encouraged me to keep going each time I asked if he was okay.

I noticed him shuffle a few times under the sheet. “Are you uncomfortable?” I asked him softly, wondering if maybe the massage table was too hard. “N-no, I’m fine.” Was his reply, and even though there was a slightly panicked edge to his voice, I took his word for it and continued working my hands lower down on his back. I felt my cheeks grow hot as my hands pulled the white sheet lower to gain access to his pain. I had never seen this much of Chris’s body before, and even though I was trying to be professional, I felt like the act was a little too intimate.

I rushed to finish up, and after about fifteen minutes I was satisfied that the knot in his back had improved. “Alright, I think I’m done. Want to flip onto your back for me?” I asked, pulling the sheet up slightly. “W-why?” Chris asked, his tone filled with alarm. “I usually finish every session with a neck massage. Sometimes the neck gets stiff from the way it lays when you’re on your stomach.” I replied. “Oh, uh, it’s okay.” He replied, refusing to move. I rolled my eyes. “What? Not even 30 minutes ago you were begging me for a massage, and now you’re turning it down?” I crossed my arms and moved over to his head, “Come on, turn over. It won’t take long.” I reassured him.

He sighed, and, holding onto the edge of the sheet, slowly turned over. I stifled a gasp, because between his legs, the thin white sheet had tented, and I could clearly see the outline of his erection. I was thrown off, unable to take my eyes away from it, but quickly recovered — clearing my throat and dropping my eyes to his face. His eyes were still closed and his cheeks were flushed; I could tell he was embarrassed. In a normal circumstance, I would think that I would have made a joke about it, and he would have just told me to shut up. But at that moment, there was something so real about his exposure and humiliation, and so I knew that I would just ignore it.

I began massaging his neck, trying to focus on my actions and regain my professionalism. But, I couldn’t stop looking at the white sheet; it being the only thing between his cock and my eyes. I could tell that it was huge, and I watched as it grew harder and harder as I continued working his neck. It went from standing straight up and wobbling in the air as Chris breathed, to being pressed right against his front. The sheet draped around it, perfectly outlining its girth, and I could see a small bead of dampness taint the sheet a translucent shade of white at its tip. My mouth watered and my mind wandered. I felt my own body begin to react to the sight in front of me, and the tension in the room began to grow so heavy that I began to gasp for air.

“I-is the pressure okay?” I asked, doing my very best to keep my voice strong as I worked his neck. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously before nodding his head. “It’s good, Y/n.” His reply was so simple, but there was something about the gruff undertone, the almost indiscriminate breathlessness as he said my name, that caused my knees to weaken and my throat to turn into a desert. Suddenly, I could no longer hear the soft music playing throughout the room as my blood pumped deafeningly in my ears. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his bulge for more than a few seconds at a time — it seemed so hard that it had to be painful. My eyes continued to flutter between his flushed face and pulsing member until suddenly, when my eyes returned to his face, his bright blue eyes were wide open and staring right at me.

I felt a new wave of heat crawl up my face at the fact that I had just been caught red-handed staring at the one thing in this room that both of us had been actively ignoring. I opened my mouth to attempt to explain myself, but his words beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” He murmured sheepishly, his face turning the same shade of red that I imagined mine to be as he squeezed his eyes shut. Immediately, I began shaking my head rapidly. Partially as a reassurance to him and partially as an attempt at erasing the last two minutes of my life. “No! Don’t be sorry. It happens all the time.” I rushed out, doing my best to make light of the situation. “No it doesn’t.” He replied flatly, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. I forced a chuckle. “Okay fine, it doesn’t happen all the time. But its not not normal.” I tried again, brushing a soft curl out of his face.

Chris was silent for a moment, his eyes still squeezed shut in either embarrassment or concentration. I had stopped massaging his neck, but my hands were still on his damp skin; my thumbs drawing gentle circles against his rapid pulse. After a moment, an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. “It won’t go away.” He said, his voice laced with genuine disgust. “I’m sorry Y/n, this is creepy.” A forced laugh, then another sigh.

The room fell silent again as I tried to find the right words to fill the space. Words that would reassure him more genuinely than more “it’s okay’s”. Because, from the way my pulse had quickened, and from the way my core had grown so slick from arousal that I could feel it dripping steadily onto my panties, it really was okay. It was more than okay. So, instead of trying to find the words that could possibly portray just how okay it was, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

I felt him tense at the first brush of my lips against his, clearly shocked by the sudden close proximity of our mouths; closer than they had ever been before. So, I pulled away for a moment, finding his piercing eyes to search them for whatever thought is running in his mind. They were wild, racing across my face trying to make sense of what just happened. But there was something else there, something erotic that was blurring the line between right and wrong. Between professionalism and spontaneity. Between friends that fuck around and friends that fuck. I could tell that we were both balancing on that same fine line, but when I brought my lips back down to his, and when he opened his mouth to welcome mine with the kind of hunger than can never be satiated, I knew that we both came to the same conclusion.

Our lips moulded together in rhythmic wonder as our tongues explored each other. Immediately, I felt his body relax as his hands reached up and wrapped themselves in my hair. A soft moan of satisfaction fell from his lips as I nibbled on his bottom lip, causing my body to react in a way that was foreign to me. I felt goosebumps raise up across my skin as if his hands were all over it. He pulled his lips from mine and used his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side, giving his swollen lips access to my neck. He sucked and nibbled against my electric skin just below my ear, and I felt as though I could fall apart and dissolve into a puddle just from that. “L-let me make you feel better.” I managed to moan out through the waves of pleasure I was feeling. My eyes wouldn’t leave the rock hard bulge under the white sheet, just barely out of my reach. Chris groaned against my neck at my words, and I watched as his cock twitched under the sheet as if it heard my words itself and was begging me to help it.

After another moment of Chris devouring my neck, tasting every inch of it as if he couldn’t get enough, his grip on my hair loosened and he allowed me to straighten up. I looked down at his face, now even more flushed than before. His lips had gone bright pink and were so beautifully swollen from their journey against my skin. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and, after a short moment, his eyes fluttered open and landed on me. “You sure you want to do this?” He asked, his voice slightly tentative, and I knew what he meant.

A kiss between friends is one thing. It can be brushed off as a slight moment of weakness, can be something that the two friends can one day laugh about as they look back on their friendship. It can be never spoken of again, can be hidden from their other friends deep in the vault of the minds of the two people that shared it. But anything more than that, any other touching, or licking, or exploring of the other person is not as easily ignorable. In friendships there is deep love and strong understanding of the other person. Once that love and understanding collides with the act of literally merging together, of being as physically close to another that you can be in this lifetime, it’s not so easy to ignore. My mind may not be able to shut out the events that transpire with Chris tonight ever again. We may never be able to chalk it all up to a moment of weakness, or keep it a secret from our mutual friends. We may never have the same friendship we had before I agreed to this massage. But there is no way to know that for sure. What I did know for sure in that moment, with Chris staring up at me with eyes filled with intoxicating desire, with my own body vibrating with lust, was that I wanted this.

So without a word, I walked down his body towards his beckoning cock. I took a moment to just gaze at it, closer to it now than I had been all night. I rested a hand on his thigh hidden beneath the sheet, and watched as his cock once again twitched. I chewed on my bottom lip in an attempt to keep myself from moaning just from the sight, and after a moment let my eyes flutter back up to his face. “I’m sure Chris.” I replied softly, searching his expression. “Are you?” I asked, realizing that he was likely considering the same potential outcome that I had been. He kept my gaze for a brief moment, his eyes focusing on different parts of my face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He replied finally, a cheeky smile growing on his face. I felt my own expression mirror his own, and without wasting another second I began peeling the thin sheet down his waist.

My smile fell the moment his bare cock was finally exposed, and was replaced by what I knew was the expression of desperate hunger. His length was impressively long, and I felt my mouth water at the thought of running my tongue along its veins up to its swollen head. Reaching to my left, I pumped some massage oil into my hand. I brought my cupped hand above his upright cock and let the oil drip between my fingers and coat him. He released a sharp hiss at the feeling of the oil as it trailed down his length towards his base, and I watched as his hips thrust forward desperately from the barely-there contact. A bead of pre-cum suddenly dripped from his slit, and I used my thumb to collect it before finally pumping my hand up and down his shaft. Immediately, a deep moan fell from Chris’s lips as I worked his oiled cock in my hand. I focused on his body language as I adjusted my movements to figure out exactly what he needed to feel good.

When I went slow, I watched his breath grow steady, telling me that I should pick up the pace. When I used a softer touch as I moved along his cock his hands would stay relaxed at his side, but I knew he liked it when I used a bit more pressure along his tip as his hands would tighten into fists against the sheet. But when I used both hands, twisting in opposite directions with the occasional brush against his balls with my pinky, I discovered that was what he liked most of all. A deep grunt followed by a moan fell from his lips, and his right hand flew to my upper thigh; where he gripped so hard I was sure that he would leave a bruise. “Fuck, Y/n.” He breathed out as I continued with these movements.

His hand traveled further and further up my leg until his fingers slipped under my loose-fitting shorts. I continued to stroke him with both hands, even when I felt the tip of his fingers just milimetres from my trembling core. They brushed against the ever-so-soft place between my pelvis and my pussy, and I bit back a moan. Subconsciously, I adjusted myself so that my legs were wider apart; giving him access to touch even more of me. My hands continued to work his cock as his fingers inched closer and closer, before finally, I felt the very tip of just one of his fingers reach my core and dip into its warmth. My knees buckled at the barely-there contact just as he released a muffled moan. “Jesus fuck, Y/n,” My eyes flew to his face and the translucent arousal that I found all across it was almost enough to push me over the edge. “Put that on my face right fucking now.”

His demand was so jarring, his voice so gritty and raw, that I didn’t hesitate before peeling my shorts down my legs, lifting myself onto the massage chair, and straddling his face. Immediately, his hands gripped onto my thighs and pulled them apart; giving his eyes untethered access to my glistening core. “You’re fucking soaked.” His words came out in an almost-whisper, as if he hadn’t actively planned on speaking them aloud. Still, they shot straight to my lust and I leaned forward, resting my head against his chest to allow him to see even more of me.

I gasped as I felt his thumb against my slit, collecting my arousal. I heard a wet sound and then another deep moan. “So good.” He whispered before suddenly his warm mouth was suctioned to my clit. Immediately, I dissolved into a puddle of desire as his tongue swirled and licked against my sensitive bundle of nerves. Moans fell from my lips as my brain turned to mush from the relief of finally having his mouth on me. I began moving my hips against his face, chasing a high that I so desperately needed. Satisfied moans slipped from his mouth into me, and I felt a sharp slap against my ass cheek that added to my intense need.

I had turned into nothing more than a dead weight on top of him, his lethal tongue paralyzing me. But as I opened my mouth to release a guttural moan, I felt my lip brush against the tip of his cock. Without a second thought, I slipped his cock into my mouth and began pumping up and down. Another moan fell from Chris, vibrating against my clit and causing me to moan around his girth. “Fuck.” Chris muttered against me, and I responded by deep throating his cock until my nose pressed against his bare thigh. “Mmmm, Y/n.” Chris breathed, removing his mouth from my clit. I stopped my movements as well, waiting on shaky legs for him to continue.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” He began, gently running his knuckles against my ass cheek. “And I don’t want to do that yet.” He slipped two fingers into my core effortlessly, causing me to immediately begin rocking against them. “Mmm. Thatta girl.” He breathed, presumably watching for a moment as I rode his fingers just inches above his face. “What I want you to do is focus on making a mess all over my face, then after that I want to cum with these tight walls wrapped around me.” His words caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head, and a sharp moan fell from my lips. “Sound good?” He asked, his voice muffled as he reattached his mouth to my throbbing clit. I nodded my head maniacally as he resumed his impressive movements against my nerves. He kept his fingers inside of me, and as I slid my soaked cunt against his face, I cried out at the added sensation of his fingers filling me.

“Fuck C-Chris.” I moaned, my words nearly incomprehensible as I grew closer and closer to my climax. He could tell that I was quickly approaching, and tightened his grip on my ass cheek with his free hand; pressing my cunt so hard against his face I was afraid that he would suffocate. “G-gonna cum!” I warned him just before the tumultuous waves of my orgasm took over. My body began shaking as I came hard against his face. I had never before felt so out of control of my own body, and relished in the feeling as my back arched and a plethora of moans fell from my mouth. I felt a gush as I squirted against Chris’s mouth, and trembled at the guttural moan he released as he began lapping me up.

Once my mind reattached to my body and my orgasm had finishing ripping through me, I rested my head against his stomach as he ran his hands along my tense back and dropped gentle kisses against my sensitive core. He let me lie there on top of him for a few moments, catching my breath and slowing my heart rate, before gently lifting my limp body off of him and sliding off of the massage table. I sat up on the edge of the table, facing his standing figure before me, and my gaze landed on his excruciatingly hard cock. He grabbed my chin and lifted my head up before pressing his wet lips harshly against mine. He tasted like me, and immediately a new wave of arousal filled my core.

As his tongue flicked into my mouth, I reached between our bodies and began stroking his cock. He thrusted into my hand instinctively, and a moan fell from his lips as his hand shot to my core where he drew torturously slow circles against my over-stimulated clit. Caught up in how good we were making the other feel, our kissing slowed and our mouths eventually turned into matching O’s; eyes shut in pure bliss. I dropped my forehead against his bare chest, and watched as our hands worked on the other’s body, slowly working up the nerve to do the one thing we hadn’t yet done with each other.

“You still want to do this?” Chris asked, his voice strained. I jolted slightly at his words, shocked at the fact that he seemed to be reading my mind. A sharp wave of pleasure hit me from his fingers and I moaned softly before looking back up at him. “Mhmm.” I breathed, meaning it. “Do you?” I asked in return as I felt his cock jump in my hand. “So much.” He replied before lowering his head and planting another deep, wet kiss against my mouth. After a moment, he grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. He took a moment to admire my bare chest before kissing each of my painfully pebbled nipples. “God, you’re unreal Y/n.” He moaned, running firm hands against my completely naked frame. I arched my back against his touch and shut my eyes blissfully.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue along my collar bone. “You ready?” He asked. I felt his hand replace mine on his shaft, and bit my lip as I felt him line the head up with my soaked core. He used his free hand to hold firmly onto my lower back, and I wrapped my legs around his waist; using the grip to press him against me. “I’m ready.” I replied breathlessly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. Without wasting a second, Chris kept his glazed eyes on mine as he slowly pressed his hips into me. My jaw dropped as his girth stretched my walls out further than I thought possible, and the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that can not truly be described with words turned my brain into mush.

Chris hissed as he bottomed out in me, his cock taking up every inch of my cunt. He remained still as he rested his forehead against mine, his breath erratic and hitched. “Fuck.” He finally groaned out, his body more tense than I’d ever seen it. “You okay?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck. He nodded. “I’m gonna cum in, like, record speed here Y/n.” He replied, taking deep breaths and keeping his forehead pressed to mine. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s okay Chris,” I replied, running my hands through his hair. “Just give me what you’ve got.”

My last seductive whisper seemed to give him the motivation to power through, because immediately he snapped his hips into me. I released a sharp moan from the depth of his movements, and that was enough to bring him fully back into it. Using the grip he had on my lower back, he plowed into me relentlessly. My eyes were rolled into the back of my head as I felt my walls stretch with each thrust; allowing him to hit my g-spot each time. “Jesus!” I cried out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at holding onto my sanity.

“You’re so f-fucking tight.” Chris groaned into my shoulder as he continued to drive his ruthless cock into me. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other, adding to the indescribable arousal I was filled with. Chris’s hands began travelling all across my body, taking his time on my tits as his thumbs drew circles around my hardened nipples. He gave my tits a harsh squeeze before travelling down my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin as he reached my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his thrusts. “God, keep going baby.” I moaned, wrapping my legs even tighter around Chris’s waist, “F-feels s-so good!” I cried just as Chris lifted me up off the table and slammed me into the wall. I released a sharp gasp from the shock, but as he continued pounding into me, my pleasure was intensified.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Chris growled as he nibbled against the skin on my neck. “You always this fucking wet?” His dirty words make my head spin. “N-no. I’m n-not.” I reply honestly, feeling my juices spread all over his front. A wicked smile covers his face. “Just for me then, huh?” His tone was arrogant, but there was an undertone of overwhelming arousal in it that told me he needed it to be true. I nodded my head rapidly. “Y-yes Chris! O-only this wet f-for y-you.” I managed to reply just before my second orgasm swept in and overtook me.

Just as I began riding my high — my nails digging into his skin and my mouth sputtering out profanities — Chris stilled inside of me and released a ragged “Oh fuck!”. I felt his cock pulse inside of me, painting my walls with his warm seed as my orgasm milked him dry. He released soft grunts against my neck as he rode through his own high, and I relished in the feeling of his cum as it dripped from my cunt.

After a while, both of our bodies relaxed and we rested against one another as we caught our breath. I waited for the overwhelming feeling of regret to wash over me, as one would expect it to after fucking your best friend, but it never came. In fact, I was so relaxed in that post-sex liminal space, pressed against the wall with Chris’s softening cock resting in my core, that I almost couldn’t believe that we had never done that before.

I was pulled from that thought by Chris placing a deeply passionate kiss to my lips. There was no lust, no untethered desire attached to it; it was almost as though this kiss was the end of one chapter of our lives and the beginning of a new, more exciting one. Our lips moved in slow motion, as if we had kissed like this a thousand times. With his lips still on mine, Chris slowly helped me down so my feet were on the ground. After another moment of our mouths merged as one, I pulled away and was immediately wrapped in a hug. Chris’s warm body felt so familiar, even more familiar than before, and I closed my eyes and took in the moment, as I knew it was the start of something new.

“Well, I think we have some things we should figure out,” Chris said, and I felt a soft chuckle against my head tucked into his chest. “Because I don’t know about you, but there is no way I can go the rest of my life without doing that again.” It was my turn to laugh, and I pulled myself out of his arms and looked up at his face. “I think I am officially under your spell.” I replied, feigning a smile. “Let’s go sit down and figure this all out.” I grabbed my discarded shirt and threw it over my head before walking towards my living room. “Oh by the way Y/n,” Chris grabbed me by my waist from behind as we walked through the door, “My back feels great now, in case you were curious.” I rolled my eyes with a smile and continued walking. “You have magical hands.” He whispered, and all I could do was laugh and give him a half-hearted shove.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[letstrip13]

୨୧ - cuffed

summary: after trying out some handcuffs on chris, he returns the favour

warnings: smut, oral f!receiving, fingering, squirting, use of handcuffs

word count: 580

author's note: based off this request + kind of a part 2 of "couple's costume" bc this is a reversed version of it yk

author's note 2: send in some blurb requests please!! i love writing them but i never have any ideas

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you feel the cold metal encircling your wrists as chris clicks the handcuffs into place above your head. “that feel okay? not too tight for you?” you nod, “yeah, it feels good.” you give it a little tug against the headboard and you feel the pressure on your wrists, the handcuffs doing their job and keeping you in place. you clench your thighs together in excitement at the thought of all the things chris is about to do to you.

he gets on the bed, laying on his stomach in front of you as he props himself up with his forearms. he pushes up the only item of clothing you have on - one of his t-shirts. you squirm as the cool air hits you and he licks his lips at the sight of how exposed you are for him.

he wants to just dive right in but decides to take it slow first. he parts your slick folds and dips a finger in, pulling a soft moan from your lips. he moves at a slow, steady rhythm to get you all worked up before adding a second finger. “mmmph keep going.”

he curls them inside you, causing your back to arch and your wrists to pull against the handcuffs. he leans down, bringing his face closer to your pussy. “stop squirming, baby.” he puts an arm over your torso to keep you in place as he goes right in, no hesitation.

his lips and tongue feel euphoric and amazing on your clit as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you, curling to hit the right place perfectly. “mmm,” he groans against you, his hips rutting into the mattress.

“oh, chris- fuck-” your back arches despite his attempts to keep you still while the pleasure starts to build. your eyes roll back and your lips part in a series of moans and cries as your first orgasm of the night comes crashing over you. chris pulls his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty and sensitive as he begins to lick you clean.

he leaves open-mouthed kisses and sucks at your now swollen and sensitive clit, leaving you writhing and moaning under him. “chris,” you whine. “give me another, princess, come on.” he slips his fingers back in easily due to how wet you are and goes right back to curling them against that certain spot.

very quickly, a new sensation starts to build inside you. this unfamiliar pressure gets stronger and more intense as he keeps going. your moans get louder and by the way you're clenching around his fingers, chris knows you're so close.

“doing so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs against you. that pressure suddenly snaps a moment later, leaving you screaming in ecstasy while another orgasm jets out of you, soaking chris around the mouth, his hand, and even part of his arm. he stares down at the mess you made, completely entranced by it.

you look down at him, in shock that just happened. “i- i didn't know i could do that,” you tell him. “that was one of the hottest things you've ever fucking done,” he says as he looks up at you.

he rubs your soaked inner thigh soothingly as you calm down from this. “you think you got another one of those in you?” “yeah, i think so.” an excited smirk crosses his lips. “good, because i'm not anywhere close to being finished with you yet. we have a long night ahead of us, baby.”

------------------------୨୧------------------------

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[ghsface]

bro I love ur writing so much idk if this is how you request but tbh idgaf anyways. anyway can you write something abt Matt x reader at a party and doing some page 136 icebreaker shit? (I think that’s the page but idc) anyway yeah ilyy 😍😍😘

New Message ✮⋆˙

hey pretty, ngl I didn't read that book but I looked up what that page of the book is about and OMG THAT WAS HOT ngl, I tried to do something similar because I don't know the context very well, I hope you like it, ily too<33

I hate you - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You decide to provoke Matt at a party...

Warnings: smut +18 orgasm denial, teasing, sexual tension, explicit content, semi public sex, unprotected sex (don't do it), p in v, oral f receiving, dom!matt x fem!reader, hate sex?, I don't think I've forgotten anything, if I do, let me know.

A/n: ngl at first i liked it but now i hate it i don't know why like i love it but at the same time i hate it ugh i hate that feeling yk, i trying my best i hope you like it anon, and thanks for the request!!, my first language is not English, so I'm sorry if there is something wrong or things that are not understood.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

You arrived at the Sturniolo triplets’ house with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Nick had mentioned that he, you, and Chris were going to a party, and the thought of hanging out with them cheered you up, especially since Matt, Nick’s brother, wasn’t going to be there. For as long as you could remember, you and Matt had been mortal enemies, the competition between you was fierce, and every interaction always ended in insults and challenging glares. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you got ready for the night, hoping that your outfit would make you feel like the best version of yourself.

You had gotten ready in Nick’s room, enjoying the time you spent with him and Chris, who joked around with each other as they waited for you. Finishing up, you made sure to take one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs. As you opened the door, however, a familiar laugh made you frown. Matt was sitting on the couch, his mocking expression already in place.

“Are you really going out with that? You look like a desperate," Matt said, with that provocative look you knew so well.

Your instinct was to ignore him, but you couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh.

"Didn't you say he was staying home?" you shot back, looking for Nick's gaze.

Nick, who was about to respond, stopped when he noticed the tense atmosphere between you.

"You know, I couldn't miss this party," Matt said, raising his hands in a gesture of false innocence. "Besides, I wanted to see you make a fool of yourself."

"As if you were the best example of behavior," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're a fucking annoying bastard."

Matt smiled maliciously, enjoying the challenge you offered him.

"I've always thought it's my job to screw up your life."

"You don't have a job, you're just an idiot," you replied, gritting your teeth as you tried to stay calm.

Nick, visibly amused by their daily fights, decided to intervene.

“Guys, please, can you stop fighting, at least for tonight? If you have so many problems, fix them in bed.”

The two of you stayed silent, the tension palpable.

“Nick wtf” you said indignantly, and confused as to why Nick said that.

“It's just a joke, but if you really have so many problems, fix them somehow,” Nick said, laughing.

“You know we're going to go now because we'll be late.” You felt caught between your desire to continue arguing and your desire to leave things like that. Finally, you decided not to let Nick's joke affect you anymore.

“Come on, let's go now!” you exclaimed, gesturing to get out, knowing that Nick and Chris would follow you.

In the car, the atmosphere was tense. You sat next to Nick, feeling like Matt was shooting daggers at you from the driver's seat every time he stopped the car for a stoplight. You couldn't help but feel his intense gaze on you in the rearview mirror, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on the music Chris had turned on.

During the ride, the conversation between Nick and Chris flowed, while you did your best to stay away from the conversation, thinking about how awkward that night would be. However, deep down, there was a spark of excitement. The idea of ​​going to a party always put you in a good mood, and even if Matt was there, you wouldn't let him ruin your night.

Arriving at the party, you were the first to get out of the car and enter the party, leaving the boys behind you. When you entered, the energy of the crowd was contagious. You headed towards the bar, looking for something to drink. You ordered a few drinks, and within minutes, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade away.

After a couple of drinks, the atmosphere was more relaxing. You looked around, looking for Matt, although you didn't know why you were looking for him. When you found him, he was chatting with Chris, but his gaze landed on you immediately, like a hunter stalking his prey. The way he looked at you made you nervous and, at the same time, provoked you. A stupid idea crossed your mind.

You decided it was time to play. You walked towards the dance floor, letting the rhythm of the music envelop you. With sensual movements, you began to dance, feeling Matt's gaze intensify from a distance. The game had begun, and you wanted him to feel it. You touched your body provocatively.

It wasn't long before you approached a boy who was dancing near you. Without a second thought, you pulled him towards you, moving with a magnetism that you knew would irritate Matt in some way. With each twist and turn, you noticed how his expression became darker and angrier.

"Do you like what you see?" you mouthed and threw Matt a wink from across the dance floor, enjoying the discomfort you were causing.

As you got closer to the boy, his hands wrapped around your waist and ran down your body, and the closeness was electric, he was a cute boy but he was definitely not your type. You felt like Matt couldn't take his eyes off you at any time. With each movement, you grew more confident, enjoying the provocation you were causing him.

Suddenly, you felt a firm hand grab your arm, and you didn't need to look to know who it was. Matt was staring at you with a mix of anger and desire, dragging you off the dance floor into an empty room.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he said, slamming the door shut behind you.

"I was just dancing with a friend, do you have a problem with that?" I replied, crossing my arms in a defiant gesture. "Did you think I was going to stand there with my arms crossed while you stared at me like you wanted to kill me?"

"You're provoking me, and you know it," he said, slowly approaching, his voice low and full of tension. "You in your damn dress and the way that guy touched you."

You felt powerful and vulnerable at the same time. You knew the tension between you had been building up for years, and now it was on the verge of exploding.

"Are you jealous Matt?" you challenged, smirking. Let me get one thing straight, you shouldn't be bothered by who I talk to or dance with.

"I'm going to show you who you belong to." He whispered in your ear and before you could protest he kissed you.

He found you against the wall, his lips crushing against yours in a fierce kiss that seemed to distill all the rage pent up between you. It was an uncontrolled kiss, full of passion and hatred, and the line between the two of you quickly blurred. When you finally broke apart, you were both panting.

“I hate you so much,” he murmured, his breathing ragged as his eyes fixed on you with an intense heat. “But at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your response was almost automatic. “Then fuck me like you hate me.”

He didn’t wait any longer. He led you to the bed in the bedroom, and his hands began to roam your body, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Every kiss and every touch was a declaration of war and desire, and there was no turning back.

He took you into a whirlwind of sensations. He began to undress you slowly, as if he was enjoying every second, every little victory. The friction between rage and desire was palpable in the air, as if the room was about to explode. His hands explored every corner of your body, letting desire take over both of you.

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he whispered as his lips moved down your neck.

“And you’re an idiot,” I replied, feeling the rage you used to feel transform into overwhelming desire.

Your body trembled with anticipation as Matt kept his gaze fixed on you, desire burning in his eyes. The tension between you had reached a breaking point. Boiling, and there was no turning back.

Anticipation grew as his hands slid down your sides, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses on your abdomen. “I’m going to make you feel good,” he promised, his tone a mix of certainty and defiance. But there was a warning in his gaze. He knew he wanted to play, and so did you.

Matt lowered himself slowly, his breath warm against your skin. It took you by surprise when his mouth closed around you. An involuntary moan escaped your lips as his tongue worked beautifully, licking and sucking with a skill that made you lose control. The way he looked at you, with those eyes filled with desire, made you feel more vulnerable and aroused at the same time.

The combination of his attention and the growing pleasure brought you to the edge, but just when you felt like you were about to explode, Matt stopped.

“I’m not going to let you finish that easy, baby,” he said in a whisper, looking up, and his eyes were filled with a mix of anger and desire.

At that moment, you felt like you were capable of anything. The rage that had built up for so long turned into pure lust. You gave yourself to him, letting yourself be carried away by the sensations he offered you.

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the fabric of your dress as he slowly pulled it up, exposing the skin of your tits. The room was permeated with an air charged with defiance and attraction, every movement between you causing a spark that could ignite the flame at any moment.

It took your breath away when his mouth found yours again. It was a fierce kiss, full of desperation and rage, every brush of his lips was like a reminder of all the battles you had fought in the past. He pushed you further into the pillows, his body pressing against yours, making a mix of pleasure and frustration run down your spine.

Matt pulled away for a moment, his assessing gaze sweeping over every inch of you. He knew he was in control. He held you tight, trapping your hands above your head and holding them firmly in place. The feeling of being completely at his mercy turned you on in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

“You’re not getting away today,” he said, whispering in your ear as his warm breath sent a shiver down your spine. Then, he moved down again, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, each touch making you want more.

Matt’s hands roamed your body with meticulous precision, exploring every corner and curve as you tried to control the desire building inside you. The way he touched you was both a punishment and a pleasure, each brush of his fingers a reminder of how much he’d wanted this, how much you’d both wanted this.

His mouth continued its descent, leaving warm kisses on your chest. Every time his tongue brushed your skin, you felt like you were on the brink of insanity. But Matt had no intention of letting you go so easily. When his lips found your breast, he sucked hard, marking his territory as you gave yourself over to the mix of pain and pleasure.

“You’re as stupid as you are beautiful,” he said between gasps, the tone of his voice heavy with contempt and desire, as his hands slid down your hips. You squirmed against him, seeking more, wanting what had begun to become something even more intense.

He released you for an instant, just so he could strip you completely, each piece of clothing falling to the floor as a symbol of your surrender. The feeling of being vulnerable before him, exposed and desired, awakened a side in you that only he could provoke.

Matt stood up, looking at you with that mix of defiance and desire that drove you crazy. He approached you again, and with a quick movement, he pushed you down onto the bed, causing you to fall onto the soft surface. He leaned over you, his body covering yours, the pressure of his weight making you feel trapped and aroused.

“Now I’m going to show you who’s boss here,” he declared, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made the air between you seem charged with electricity.

Without further ado, Matt plunged into you, filling you with his body as the room filled with sounds of passion and desperation. Every movement was a mix of strength and gentleness, as he entered you with a brutality that only he could combine with an almost fierce devotion.

Amidst broken whispers and gazes filled with desire, you feel how both of you leave behind any trace of arrogance or defiance, allowing yourselves to feel the pleasure, although neither of you admit it, you have always wanted. Matt intertwines his fingers with yours, holding you tightly as he continues to look at you with an intensity that makes you shudder.

“You drive me crazy,” he finally murmurs, with a sincerity that momentarily breaks through all the hatred between you.

Moans escaped your lips without you being able to contain them, and with each thrust, rage and desire intertwined in a wild dance. Matt kept up the pace, his hands squeezing your wrists as he penetrated you with unwavering fervor, making it clear to you who was in charge.

“Tell me,” he commanded, his voice low and husky as his body crashed into yours, the sound of his skin against yours echoing in the room. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you answered, each word laden with surrender as your body moved in unison with his, feeling the line between pleasure and pain blur.

“Say it again,” he demanded, increasing the pace as his thrusts became deeper, more frantic. The room was filled with whispers and sighs, each sound fueling the unbridled passion that burned between you.

“You,” you repeated, each word an echo of your desire, the recognition that everything you had felt for him was coming to the surface in this explosion of madness.

“Good girl,” Matt says with a arrogant smile

The friction between your bodies was intense, and each thrust brought you closer to climax. The mix of pleasure and rage was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help it, desire taking over you, making you forget everything but the present moment. In an instant of pure connection, feeling the barriers that had existed between you melt away, you let the pleasure sweep you away, allowing the world around you to fade away.

Matt finally found his own climax, his eyes locked on you, filled with a mix of triumph and insatiable desire. The two of you found yourselves in a whirlwind of sensations, each of you taking the other to new levels of pleasure and surrender.

When you finally stopped, both of you panting, the room was filled with a silence laden with meaning. You knew that nothing would ever be the same again, that the line that had once separated your hatred from desire had been blurred forever.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

Tags... @bsturnzmtt @leannking @sturniololover69 @bells-sturn @sturnedits <3

[sturnlova]

Busy ( M.S )

(Matt Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning : Smut, F receiving, new to writing, not proof read all the way, pet names, fluff, angst, i don’t know what else 😭 )

Matt : Blue

Y/N : Pink

Chris : Orange

Nick : Purple

( Word count : 900)

——————————————————

Y/N POV:

It had been a whole week, 7 days, 168 hours since Matt has been busy with work and ignoring me. Every time i confronted him Matt would always tell me that everything was well and that he was just tired and wanted to go to sleep. I became so enraged with him that I even questioned Chris and Nick, his own fucking brothers, why he was acting so "busy." All they said was that work has been difficult, Matt will get the entire day off on Friday, which is tomorrow. I had no idea that information even existed.

-

After taking off their shoes and entering the kitchen to meet me, Matt, Nick, and Chris came via the front door. I ignored Matt and waved to Chris and Nick, striking up a conversation with them. I truly couldn't talk to Matt, even though I hated ignoring him.

"Y/N, why are you ignoring me? What's wrong?" exclaimed Matt. I could feel the rage building inside of me; I was on the verge of losing it. “Why do I ignore you? WHY DO YOU DISRESPECT ME? Matt, I haven't spent more than ten minutes with you in the entire week.” Matt attempted to engage, but I interrupted him. “You don't even understand that I've asked your brothers why. I'm sorry, but you don't even realize how much I'm desperate for you. Why do you no longer give a damn? I didn't start dating this person at all. What happened Matt.” i spoke with tears now falling from my eyes. Chris spoke up, "Me and Nick are going to go for a walk, we will be back later.” “ Yeah” as they continued to move toward the front for.

“ Baby “ he knew i loved when he called me baby. “ I never want to see you cry over me. You are aware of my work schedule, but I should do a better job of juggling it with my personal life. Im sorry for being so busy; I really am. I simply got really wrapped up in my own thoughts, and I know it's not an excuse, so I had no idea that it upset you this much. I apologize. Let me make it up to you.”

-

He grabbed me the waist and patted me by the thighs to jump and wrap my legs around his waist. As i did what i was told he walked us to his room closing the door and ensuring he locked it. He laid me on my bed on top of his silk covers, as i laid on my back he slowly took off my deinem shorts and black Lacey thong, he took of my ( his ) hoodie leaving me fully naked.

He pulled me closer to the edge of the bed as he kneeled on floor face to face with my glistening wet pussy waiting to get touched. He kissed my clit, then slowly started licking a strip up and down my pussy. “ Gonna make you feel so good princess, just lay there and look pretty.” the dirty talk could’ve just made cum there on the spot.

Soon as Matt’s tongue touched you an unsteady breath flew from your lips, your eyes squeezed closed due to the amount of pleasure you felt. He licked from your leaking hole to your clit once again,tongue flat to taste as much of you as possible. he repeated his actions multiple times, Matt moaned at the taste of you, he was pussy drunk at this point. “ You enjoying it so far?” i breathed heavy and moaned “ yes i am baby, feels so good” i’m so close to finishing at this point, he always worked magic with his tongue.

My hips were bucking of the bed bringing my lips closer to his. He started using his tongue and fingers adding the insane amount of pleasure i was already feeling. I tugged on my bed sheets and when i did that he took his fingers out of me and used his hands to guide my hands to his hair. I quickly grabbed his hair and gently tugged.

He started going insanely fast which made me lose it, he instructed me to grab my boobs and play with them, who was i to deny it. “ fuck Matt i’m so close, can i cum, please” he nodded his head against me. The knot in my stomach snapped and i finished all of his fingers and face.

Matt slowly pulled his fingers out of me and sucked them clean. “ are you ok? you did so good sweetheart” i nodded my head in response to tired to move or speak. Matt walked to get a hand towel to clean his face and me. Not too long after we had a shower and changed clothes to walk downstairs to end the night with a movie.

-

As we sat on the couch Chris and Matt walked in asking if we were ok i responded back with “ more than ok “ Matt giggled at me words and brought his attention back to the movie.

[buddiebeginz]

I was talking to a friend earlier and it got me thinking about something.

B*mmy stans project all of the stuff they do onto us to an extent I've never seen with any other fandom discourse before.

They call us homophobic for not liking B/T or T*mmy. Yet they hate on people for shipping Buddie or seeing Eddie as queer. To the point of harassing people for including Eddie and Buddie in pride posts. Continually harassing the 911news account and even trying to dox a journalist for posting about Buddie.

They call us delusional for having watched two men love and support one another for 6 going on 7 years and for thinking there could be something more than friendship there. Even though Oliver, Ryan, and Tim have all said they see what we see. Yet they've seen Buck kiss a guy twice, have very minimal screen time or development and they headcanon that they're in love and will get married in the coming season.

They say we fetishize Buddie. Yet most of the time when our fandom is discussing our ship we're talking about the emotional connection between them. Or how we want to see them finally be together in a canon romantic relationship or as a full fledged family (with Chris). Or have their first kiss. Meanwhile most of their posts are the kind of sex they headcanon Buck and T*mmy have. Hell after that that dinner scene tons of them changed their urls to something with daddy in it (referencing the out of place daddy kink joke). To be clear there's nothing wrong with headcanons about fictional characters sex lives. But the main reason most of us ship Buddie is not just because they're two hot guys who we want to think about f*cking, it's because we're invested in the story of their life together. The same can't be said for B/T.

They say we feminize Buck for Buddie:

Meanwhile most of their fics/art/headcanons involve T*mmy being the big strong protector rescuing the "damsel in distress" Buck. They constantly talk about how hot it is that T*mmy is this big older "daddy" firefighter who can take care of Buck and guide him in what it means to be in a m|m relationship.

They say we've made Buck's coming out all about Buddie but 1. Eddie and Buck's feelings for him were heavily included in Buck's bi awakening ep. 2. They have made T*mmy synonymous with buck's coming out to the point of saying Buck wouldn't have even realized he liked men without T*mmy. They've even said that if T*mmy and Buck were to break up in s8 that it would ruin Buck's coming out story.

They accuse our fandom of being mean and of harassing the actors including of sending death threats to Lou. Of chasing Lou off of social media and being the one who caused him to stop his cameos. They say we're the reason Oliver chooses not interact with Lou or anything B/T related online. When there has been no proof of any of this. Meanwhile there is proof from their own fandom that Oliver and Ryan have blocked some of them. They have repeatedly tried to pressure Oliver to interact with B/T posts and Lou. They were also leaving comments on the the video of the podcast Ryan did (with Tommy DiDario) where he talked about his s*icide attempt, telling him he should have finished the job.

They call us a cult or BoBs (Buddie or Bust) yet they dress up like Lou and would still be paying for his videos if he was still willing to put them out. They prioritize Lou/T*mmy above any other character on the show. They talk about how T*mmy should get a begins episode. How T*mmy should be a main character. They defend everything T*mmy has ever done including when he was racist and homophobic to Chim and Hen. They harass anyone who has a negative word to say about their ship or Lou or T*mmy much like a cult would protect their leader. They to this day act like everything Lou ever told them in his cameos is the gospel truth.

911 fandom has grown increasingly toxic ever since B/T became a thing and I honestly just can't wait for the day we either find out T*mmy isn't coming back or when his last ep will be. I mean in some ways our fandom won't ever be the same after this. I've seen a lot of ugly sides to people who I had followed for years as Buddie shippers.

It will never not confuse the hell out of me that some people who were big time Buddie shippers for years not only dropped Buddie but turned completely against the ship and our fandom. And all for a ship that is seriously underdeveloped and one that it's clear the show is telling us in flashing neon lights isn't meant to last.

[sturniozo]

Tutor part four

NOT PROOFREAD

masterlist

It’s been four weeks since my success with tutoring Chris. Now, each time he comes over, we study for ninety minutes, and then hang around and do whatever Chris decides. It keeps him focused on his work while he has it in front of him.

And it’s getting easier to hang around Chris. He still gives me butterflies but I’m not so nervous around him. It’s easier to just talk to him. My hands no longer get sweaty and my heart doesn’t race so hard.

“Okay, study is officially over.” Chris says. He’s never been punctual about anything, except for the end of our allotted study time. The second the clock hits 5:30 his notes are in the bag and he’s leaned back in his chair deciding what we should do.

“What to do with the pretty y/n today.” Chris muses to himself. “Only got thirty minutes…” Chris smiles and bites his lip while looking at me. Before I could say anything, he begins laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Nothing. Just thinking about stuff.”

“About what?”

“How come we never hang out outside of these tutoring lessons?” Chris asks.

“Well after school mostly you have hockey practice and I have a part time job at the restaurant down the street from here.” I answer.

“You work there two nights a week. And one of those nights is the same night as hockey practice.”

“How do you know when I work, are you stalking me or something?”

“What about weekends?” Chris says, evading my sarcastic question. “You don’t work weekends, no hockey practice for me on weekends.”

“Why are you so adamant on hanging out? We’re hanging out right now.”

“A half hour is not enough. You should come to my game.”

“Your game?” I ask.

“Yeah, my hockey game. You should come.”

I look at Chris confused. “I.. why?”

Chris just shrugs. “We don’t hang out enough.” There’s a pause before Chris sighs. “Nick will be there. If that makes any difference.”

“What?”

“Well you never argue with him over hanging out. It’s always a flat out yes with Nick.”

“Nick is my best friend.”

“What, and I can’t be?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” Chris stares at me with a blank face. I can’t tell what he wants me to say.

“I’ll go.”

-

Sitting with Nick watching the hockey game was not how I usually spend my Friday nights. I also don’t expect it to be so cold at the hockey game. I guess I should have thought of that though, seeing as they’re on ice.

So here I am. Sitting right in the front, wearing none other than Chris’s hoodie since I was stupid and didn’t bring my own. It’s nice to be in his hoodie though. It’s so warm and it smells just like him.

“Dude you’re freaking me out.” Nick says as he stares at me with concern.

The view he had of me that was so concerning to him was just me closing my eyes and embracing the smell of Chris’s hoodie.

“Chris fucking stinks I don’t understand how you can breathe that in.” Nick says.

“His hoodie doesn’t stink.” I sit up straight.

“I can smell it from here.” Nick turns his head and pretends to gag.

I just roll my eyes and sit back on the bleachers to watch the game. I’ve never been to one of Chris’s hockey games before. I don’t even understand hockey, or any sport for that matter. What even are the rules?

While deep in my thoughts, Chris skates towards the glass and waves at me while smiling. I blush and wave back, covering my face with the sleeve of his hoodie so he doesn’t see my blush. Chris just laughs and then continues on with the game.

“Yeah, that was subtle.” Nick says sarcastically.

I turn to him. “What?”

Nick then pretends to twirl his hair and blink his eyes dramatically while waving. “That’s what you look like.”

“I wasn’t twirling my hair.”

“You might as well have been.”

I just scoff and turn back to the game.

After the game ends, I wait with Nick outside for Matt and Chris to finish up in the locker room.

It’s not too cold out, but cold enough that someone wearing a skirt with no leggings underneath, like me, would catch a chill standing outside for a period of time.

“How long is this going to take?” I mumble rub my arms for warmth.

“Relax. They’ll be out in a minute.” Nick says as he scrolls through his phone.

“Easy for you to say. Your legs aren’t exposed to the harsh tundra.”

“Harsh tundra? Y/n it’s 50 degrees.”

“So cold.” I say dramatically. I place the back of my hand over my forehead and pretend to swoon, slipping and land right into someone.

“Jesus, y/n. What’s wrong?” Chris says. My heart stops. I did not just fall into Chris. Tell me I did not just fall into Chris.

“Nothing, she’s being dramatic.” Nick says and stands up straight. But I’m paralyzed. I stay still with Chris’s hands holding me up and my eyes like deer in headlights.

“Y/n?” Chris asks.

“I’m fine.” I manage to say. I finally gain the ability to stand on my own and I walk by Nick. “Let’s get going, I’m cold.”

“You wouldn’t be so cold if you weren’t wearing that little skirt. It was driving me crazy the whole game.” Chris laughs and puts his arm around my shoulders as we walk to the van.

My face heats up with blush and the butterflies come back to my stomach. Chris must have noticed because he then says “hey, hey I was joking. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m just cold.”

“Well we’ll get you in the van and take you home and then you won’t be so cold, alright?” Chris smiles at me reassuringly.

“Alright.”

Tag list : @freshloveforthefit @sturniolo14

[mintsturniolo]

CAN YOU PLEASE POST BROKEN ARM

BTW YOUR WRITING IS SO CUTE🩷🩷

bf!chris sturniolo x f!reader

a/n: sorry it took so long. anyways here you go love. and thanks so much 🩵

summary: isla and chris are home alone and she falls down the stairs thus breaking her arm

It was a well known fact that Isla was incredibly clumsy. Between her and Chris, one of them was always tripping, or dropping things. They were currently home alone. Chris was in his room gaming, while Isla was finishing up laundry for the household. While this was usually Matt’s job, Nick and Matt had plans and the laundry had been piling up since they got back from Boston. Isla finished folding Matt’s clothes first and set the laundry basket in his room. She made her way downstairs with Chris’s laundry and smiled when she saw how focused he was on his game. She kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Movie night tonight?” she asked eagerly. “I’ll make you whatever you want.”

Chris nodded as he lowered his headset. “I would love that,” he replied hugging her back.

Isla watched him play his game for a few more minutes before making her way upstairs. She finished up Nick’s laundry and made her way up to his room. Of course his room was on the top floor. She set the basket on the dresser and began heading downstairs. She wasn’t sure how, but as she got close to the bottom, she missed a step. As she positioned herself to break her fall, she felt her arm crack as she landed at an awkward angle. She gave a sharp gasp as pain seemed to shoot through her whole body. “Oh fuck,” she cried out, cradling her injured arm.

Chris removed his headset when he heard something crash upstairs. He jumped out of his chair when he heard Isla cry out. Chris hurried up the stairs and gasped when he got around the corner and saw Isla laying on the floor holding her clearly injured arm against her chest. “Holy shit. Isla, what happened?” he gasped as he knelt beside her.

The only response were her pained sobs as he pulled her into his arms, helping her sit up a little. “Shhh. Breathe my love,” he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“I just took Nick’s laundry upstairs and when I was coming down I missed a step. I don’t know. I’m in so much pain and I feel so stupid. I should’ve been paying attention,” Isla sobbed before Chris shushed her.

Chris gently wiped the tears off her face. “Does anything else hurt? Your back? Your head? Can you move your fingers or toes?”

Isla nodded, still crying and showed Chris that she was able to move. “It’s just my arm. Chris it hurts so bad,” she sobbed.

“Yeah, I think it’s broken. We need to go to the hospital,” Chris replied.

Isla nodded in agreement as Chris helped her to her feet and led her to the car. It didn’t take long to make it to the emergency room, but it was so crowded that that it was a struggle to find a seat.

time skip

After what felt like forever at the emergency room, Isla was finally able to go. Chris had his arm wrapped around her as they walked into the house. “Let’s get you to bed. I know you’re tired.”

Isla agreed and Chris gently helped her into the house. “I need my water first,” Isla said sleepily. “I’m kind of thirsty.”

As they made their way into the kitchen, they found Nick and Matt on the couch watching a show. “Isla what happened?” Matt gasped, getting Nick’s attention.

“Oh no! How did you break your arm?” Nick gasped.

“I fell down the stairs when I was coming out of your room,” Isla muttered as she took a seat on the couch beside Matt.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Nick said.

Isla nodded sleepily as she closed her eyes. “M’tired guys.”

Matt moved to the other side of Nick so that Isla could lay down. Chris helped her find a comfortable position since the cast was stressing her out and smiled as she started to fall asleep. “I was going to go out and get some Chinese food for dinner,” he told his brothers as he put a blanket over Isla.

“I’ll pick it up in a little while. Just stay with her,” Matt said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

time skip

“I’m so tired Chris,” Isla muttered as they finished eating. “Everything hurts.”

Chris nodded and helped her off the couch. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

After telling Nick and Matt goodnight, Isla and Chris made their way downstairs. Now it was time for the real challenge that she’d been dreading all day. Isla went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, determined to do everything herself. It didn’t take long for her to give up and call for Chris. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Please just come in here,” Isla begged, sounding defeated.

Chris went into the bathroom to see tears in his girlfriend’s eyes. He quickly went to her and pulled her into a hug. “What’s wrong my love?”

“I’ve had to go to the bathroom since we got home and I can’t unfasten my jeans and my arm hurts and…” Isla choked out between sobs.

“Shhhh. It’s okay. I’ll help you,” Chris said gently. “Deep breaths. You’ll get used to everything soon enough. Til then. Just call me okay.”

Isla nodded as she wiped her tears away. Chris reached down and unfastened the button that had been such a challenge for his girlfriend. “I’m going to get you some sweats and a hoodie,” he said and stepped out the door. “Call me when you’re ready.”

After helping Isla shower, the couple was finally ready to settle into bed. Chris went over to his desk and found a marker. “I know this is super corny but I’ll do it in small handwriting,” he laughed earning a smile from Isla who nodded.

“Don’t write or draw anything stupid Christopher,” she laughed.

Chris stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “I would never.”

Isla rolled her eyes as Chris kissed her gently on the lips. “You better not,” she replied, returning the kiss.

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme @sturnioloveniamh

[madjosie]

Thorns and Roses | Bangchan (pt.1)

f!reader x detective!bangchan

Part two here

Note: mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, mentions of abuse, use of tobacco, detailed scenes of murder, mental illness

Words: 12k

-

The repeating flashing of red and blue lights in the distance jolted Christopher out of a long trance. For the entire twenty-minute ride, his mind was completely blank. His first murder investigation. His real chance to test his own ambition and knowledge he acquired over the long and hard years of college. But most importantly, to prove he didn’t get this job for nothing.

After finishing college and doing a couple of internships, his friend landed him a job at the local police investigation unit. At least that's what Changbin thought was the least he could do for his friend, who had gotten him through far more shit in life than he should have. Christopher and Changbin had been friends since the start of university and after realizing he failed his initial career path, Changbin encouraged Chris to try the justice system instead of his original choice of music. It was a hard decision for him to leave the thing he most loved behind, but Chris decided to follow his friend's words and got into criminology. On some nights he found himself dreading the decision, but his friend was always there to encourage him that the path he now found himself on was a real calling for him.

A few years later, the pair found themselves assigned to the same investigation. Changbin was well-loved within their unit, often described by coworkers as a witty chihuahua but also extremely hardworking, with a couple hundred cases behind him already. Christopher, on the other hand, had mixed reviews. Some thought he got the job just because of his friend, while others believed he had great potential, but not enough experience to be anything more than an assistant to Changbin. For the first month, his job was to act as a printer and coffee machine; nobody took him very seriously, including his boss. He thought maybe that was the process for everyone, that everyone had to go through the "maid phase" before getting assigned. He never spoke of it to Changbin, but he was already well aware of what was happening.

Upon arrival, a swarm of butterflies, or rather angered wasps, went crazy in Christopher’s stomach. Anxiety or excitement, he didn’t know. He came with the task of finding out how the crime happened, and he wasn’t going to let a few loose screws mess up his chance.

“Seems we’re a bit late,” the driver said, the buckles clicking as they frantically tried to take them off.

The scene was painted by flashing lights of cameras and police tape. To Chris, it resembled more a creepy movie set rather than an actual place. It was the middle of December, the cold air lay thick as two police officers made their way over to the two men. His companion Changbin mumbled curse words under his breath, rubbing his hands together frantically, trying to warm them up at least to comfortably greet the approaching officers.

“Evening, gentlemen.” One spoke, his breath painting shapes in the air.

“The forensics took the body for autopsy, feel free to head on over there.” The two investigators only nodded, the atmosphere seemingly not conducive to starting any conversation.

As they got closer, the scene became clearer. A plastic folder found its way into Christopher’s hands, his companion gesturing for him to flip through the pages.

“Only 26 years old?”

“Yep, and a quite successful businessman.”

His eyes turned upward to look at the rather underwhelming house. Maybe it was due to it being December and no flowers finding the strength to bloom under the thin coat of snow, or maybe it was due to the old musty doors and windows and an unkempt porch. Chris found the strength to let out a chuckle. “Sure seems like it.”

Changbin rubbed his temples. “Apparently his girlfriend was the last one to have contact with him, but she says that at the time of the murder she wasn’t even in town.”

“Is she in for questioning?”

“Yep, they got her in right now.”

Chris’s fingers traced along the glossy paper, outlining a few news reports of the man. He seemed to be quite a successful real estate agent. Ironic, considering he lived in what looked like a literal garbage truck.

Upon entering the house, Christopher’s stomach turned at the odor that hit him like a slap in the face. “Fucking shit.” Fortunately for him, he hadn't had the glory to inhale the lingering smell of a deceased body until now, which was now a shock to his gut. Taking a few seconds for his nervous system to calm down, his mind focused on the task. If he wanted a good reputation so badly, these kinds of things shouldn’t be an obstacle for him.

The suprisingly narrow hallway of the house led right to the living room, the floor and wall painted with crimson liquid. Trash decorated the floor along with evidence markers. Trying not to move anything around and make an even bigger mess, they made their way deeper into the house, the blinking of forensic cameras flashing every now and then.

“Forced entry?” Chris handed the folder back into Changbin’s hands. “No, we’re assuming the killer had a key,” one of the remaining police officers informed, bowing her head to both of them.

The red liquid that outlined the body stood in the living room, but the trail led farther out. It seemed that the conflict started in the kitchen and proceeded to the living room. Changbin left Christopher’s side, occupied with his own brainstorming. Chris took a better look at the evidence marked with the yellow plastic. Bloody shoe prints, knocked over chairs, the kitchen utensils untouched. The killer either brought their own weapon or took the one from here with them. Flipping through a few more pages of the folder, it seemed that the footprints belonged to the victim. No found fingerprints, no DNA left anywhere. Making his way to the backyard of the house, Chris was greeted with a fresh thin layer of snow.

“How long has he been dead for?” Maybe if it hadn’t been long, he could find footprints or any type of trail. It hadn’t snowed a lot these past days, so if it happened at least two days ago— “Four days,” Changbin was heard from the bathroom, making Chris sigh in frustration and shut the back door with a loud thud. He leaned his back against the kitchen counter as his eyes fell on the small dining table in the middle of the room.

A splash of purple caught his attention from his peripheral vision. A small bouquet of purple flowers covered in glitter was thrown in the corner of the kitchen counter, barely visible because of the microwave.

“Seems like he did have a good relationship with his girlfriend,” Changbin followed his companion's gaze. “There’s no sign of struggle in the bathroom.”

For some reason, Chris decided to pull out his phone. With a quick tap and a 'click' sound, he captured the lonely pile of now long dead roses.

Time flew by, and by the 60-minute mark, they decided to call it a day. Nothing new was found except for the small sign of affection thrown away in the kitchen. The only thing they could do was wait for the analysis of the evidence found and the autopsy results to reach their hands.

-

3:37 AM blinked on the clock. No sign of sleep.

Chris usually had a very hard time falling asleep, being prescribed sleeping medicine ever since he got into college. His body seemed to prefer the nocturnal lifestyle. Chris rubbed his eyes, turning in his bed for the twelfth time in the past half-hour. “God fucking dammit.”

His feet hit the cold apartment floor. Step by step, he made his way to the balcony. The lights of the city drew warm shapes on the white snowy canvas, but the city had never felt this cold. With a deep sigh, he took a seat on a not-so-stable wooden chair, pulling out a box of tobacco that had been squished in the back of his pocket for the whole day. He knew it was a bad habit, and at some point in life, he might even regret it, but for his mind, it was the only option. Putting on one of his own tunes in the background, he looked over at the city, focusing on making shapes with the clouds and lights rather than the running worries.

He knew he should be extremely grateful for how far he had come, but the feeling of a missed opportunity never left his tough head. Is this even his real calling? Maybe he should have pursued music when he said he wanted to? Maybe he should have stayed on the path he started on when he got to university? Maybe it’s not his coworkers but him? His own performance? Instead of waiting for work, should he have gotten up and demanded it?

A loud groan left the deepest pit of his throat as his head fell in a desperate attempt to quiet down the most annoying and loud part of his brain. He felt as if the engines in his brain had been working for a year without stopping, and he was a minute away from overheating and shutting down. He felt a pair of eyes looking at him, his gaze spiking up immediately.

His eyes met with a girl’s. Her face was defined by only a couple of shadows from the old streetlights. Her expression seemed startled and puzzled; he could only make out the shadow of her softly curled jawline and her long hair. It seemed like she was carrying some bags with her.

“You scared me, are you okay?” Her voice was sudden, a soft melodic vibration merging out of the darkness. To Chris, her voice had become one with the now soft jazz melody playing on his phone. “Sorry. I burned myself with the cigarette.” He awkwardly chuckled as he pulled up the almost-done cigarette to show her. Probably not the most attractive thing a guy could have said for an excuse. Seemed like the only logical option, he was not going to vent to a random stranger at 3AM about how his life choices made him miserable.

She awkwardly laughed with raised eyebrows and nodded, shifting on her feet before taking a quick step, trying to escape making this conversation far more awkward than it is by now. Before he could say anything more, she sent a quick wave to the weird shirtless man on the balcony, disappearing away from the orange street lights, back into the darkness. 

-

With a huff of relief, she set down the two bags in front of the shop’s entrance. Fiddling through the pockets of her cardigan sweater, she caught hold of a flower-shaped keychain with a pink ice cream cone glued to it. Her own work of craft.

The bell of the small shop rang as the door pushed it, usually signaling an incoming customer, but now signaling her despair and urgency. “Okay, three hours to finish it, it’s enough time.” She breathed out in a desperate attempt to calm her nerves.

She autonomously set down one bag on the counter of her work place, while the other got chucked into a big wooden box that was hidden under a broken piece of wooden flooring.

She doesn't really remember when she got the habit of doing that, or what kind of materials are even in there, but she still liked to keep them in case she ran out of something in the middle of crafting.

The pickup was scheduled for 7 AM, and did she completely forget about it and sleep through the whole afternoon and half of the night? Yes. Were an angry bride and a ruined wedding on her bucket list for this month? No.

Who the hell even has a wedding in the middle of cold December?

Her worktable, usually filled with colorful ribbons and glitters, was now covered in various shades of white, gold, and pink. Placing every flower in its designated place, not one should be even an inch off. In her mind, every misplaced glitter particle could be seen, every wrong shade diamond could ruin the whole piece, every miscolored petal could completely destroy the bouquet. She was a skilled artist, and flowers were her medium, her self-defense of choice.

Flowers could make everything pretty. Even the saddest lawn with a few daisies turns into a cozy backyard. Flowers even make funerals beautiful. It’s a sign of life. But they won’t bloom in the wrong conditions. They need sun and water to grow, to become beautiful; otherwise, they rot and become one with the ground, the ground they grew from. When you plant a flower, you have to look after it, just like a mother and father look after their children. Feed them and watch them grow into a person.

Roses hold a special place in her heart. The symbol of love, affection, and life. But roses come with thorns, and what do you do with those thorns? Thorns are there to protect the beauty of the rose, and if you touch them, they hurt you. Then what do you do with them? You remove them from the rose and throw them away.

-

The clock struck 7:48 AM, and the bell this time signaled a customer. A late customer, nothing new.

"Pick up for Watson," a friendly voice sang from behind the counter. Adriana emerged from the colorful beads in the doorway of her little workshop, greeting back in the same cheerful tone.

"Here you go, I hope the bride likes it." She handed over the carefully crafted bouquet of white roses and transvaal daisies, decorated with various ribbons and glitters.

"Oh my god, she will love it. Thank you again."

The cheerful woman exited the store, leaving only the faint sound of the TV to set the ambiance in the store.

Winter was always slow in the shop. Not many people find snow and harsh winds perfect for holding outside weddings or birthdays, hell even funerals get rescheduled. But, of course that is not always guaranteed, such as today. For these kinds of situations she decided that maybe it was worth it to stay open during winter.

The calm atmosphere was cut short by the ringing of Adriana's phone, her favorite song indicating that someone was trying to reach her. She picked it up and swiped the green button across the screen. "Hello?"

"Adriana, can you please come over? Some shit happened. I was at the police station until now—"

"Lila?"

"I came home last night, I didn't even enter the house and-"

"Wait, Lila, slow down. Where are you?"

The voice on the other line stopped to take a breath. "I'm at my apartment. Please come over. Jaehyun was found dead last night."

-

The apartment complex suddenly filled with the sound of hard footsteps. Moments later, Adriana found herself wrapping her arms tightly around her best friend, whose cries were quick to be muffled by Adriana's cardigan. In this moment of despair, Adriana didn't know how to feel; she usually kept her emotions very well under control, but now, they ran wild.

She didn't like Lila's boyfriend at all. The history between them only made Adriana's body boil with anger rather than happiness for the couple, and for all the right reasons. But seeing Lila break down in her arms naturally put all of that aside, how could she focus on anything else but tightly wrapping her arms around her.

“The police questioned me the whole fucking morning. They think I did it,” Lila managed to say between sobs.

“Oh, fuck,” Adriana broke the hug, her face painted with disbelief. She couldn’t grasp the accusation of her sweet best friend killing a human being, the amount of monstrous venom that needs to run through your veins to take the life of another living and breathing being. Lila was completely incapable of such an act.

Lila’s voice grew louder, filled with desperation. “I didn’t do it, I swear. I was out of fucking town. How the hell could they accuse me of that?” The cries got louder as Adriana’s comforting became more and more useless.

“Listen, I know you were out of town. We even texted about it.” She took Lila’s hands in hers. “I’ll be the witness for your alibi. I know you didn’t do it, Lila. We will print out the texts that you sent me and give them to the police. You’re gonna be okay Lila.”

The room eventually quieted down as Lila caught her breath, nodding in confirmation at Adriana's words. Only a faint ‘thank you’ could be heard from Lila before she got pulled into a hug once more.

Her boyfriend Jaehyun was a pretty sketchy guy. Adriana didn’t know much about him, except for the fact that he was a pure asshole towards Lila, and that he had a history of abusing drugs. Great combination.

Adriana was convinced the drugs led to his aggressive behavior. On multiple occasions she tried to sit down with Lila and convince her to break things off with him, but that just erupted an argument between the two girls. She didn’t want their friendship to end, so she stopped trying and only offered a shoulder to cry on when incidents with him happened. On couple of occasions he even threatened Adriana, which spiked an unfamiliar feeling within her. A feeling that she could maybe be the last page of his book, and the first chapter of Lila’s new life, but choosing morals, Adriana deleted the text and never mentioned it to Lila.

-

The cafeteria was filled with the bustling sounds of plates and chattering, every group occupying their own little table much like a high school cafeteria. Chris took slow bites of his now cold and tasteless mashed potatoes while the two men in front of him argued about something he didn't pay much attention to. It was amusing enough for him to just watch them bicker.

“Yeah, but if you leave it on for 10 then you're basically eating a rock.”

“I didn't say 10, I said 7. Are you even listening? Who the fuck boils eggs for 10 minutes?” Hyunjin spoke while pulling on Changbin's ear.

Changbin was quick to react to that, slapping Hyunjin's hand away. “Ay, you can't do that to your senior.”

Chris, on the other hand, stayed quiet, chuckling to himself at the two grown men pushing and pulling at each other’s nerves. One thing about Hyunjin that Chris valued the most was his sense of self. Nobody could tell that man anything; he followed his own path. Even though his main occupation was to nitpick at rotten dead bodies and analyze bloody weapons, he still didn't throw away his love for art. That man painted day and night, no matter how much his job as a forensic tired him out.

Their laughter was cut short by the appearance of a usual, grumpy face. “Christopher, I need you in the interrogation room. You too,” Hank pointed at Chris then briefly at Changbin.

The two men shot the long-haired boy an apologetic look while standing up from the plastic cafeteria chairs.

“We will finish this discussion later,” Changbin whispered under his breath to Hyunjin before the long-haired man was left alone to finish his lunch.

“We have a witness for Miss Bennett. You need to make a formal report of it and add it to the record. Christopher I believe you have the skills to do atleast that, right?”

He couldn’t say no to Hank, he was already terrified of him as it is. This was the first time their boss directly gave a task to him, and it felt like a huge responsibility to take it, and most importantly, do it right.

Hank handed a stack of papers to Changbin, shooting a polite smile to both of them, or more like a threatening one as it seemed.

“You’ve done this before right?” Changbin turned to look at the dumbfounded boy in front of him, raising an eyebrow at his expression.

“Twice,” Chris nodded. “I think.”

Picking out a couple of papers, Changbin handed them to Christopher, before grabbing him by his shoulders and turning him towards the big black doors. The words interrogation room bolded above a small frosted window.

He stood on the other side of a one-way mirror, awaiting the sign that he could seat himself on the chairs that stood on the other side of the reflective glass. He didn't really know what to expect; he didn't even have questions formed in his head yet, but with a few nudges and looks from Changbin his nerves let loose for at least a second or two.

To Chris, it felt like not even a second had passed before he was sitting in a pretty uncomfortable chair. His fingers fiddled with the rims of the pages of a series of notes in front of him. He was well aware the conversation was being recorded, and he for sure didn't want to have any mistakes on his record.

Just take a deep breath and stop being a bitch.

He heard the door of the interrogation room open. Three quiet "good mornings" were exchanged, but he was too anxious to look up at the women now sitting across from him. He finally pulled his gaze up, first catching a glimpse of the uniform of a police officer in the corner of the room, then at a strangely familiar pair of eyes.

Chris cleared his throat before speaking, “Good morning, ladies. Today is the 7th of December 2023, 11:05AM. Please state your names and relations to the victim for the record.”

As they spoke, he pulled out a blank piece of paper, writing down the date in the corner as he waited for them to voice out their names.

“Lila Bennett.”

“Adriana Lee.”

The man in front of them felt his breath stop for a second, the voice of the woman echoing through his ears, reminding him of a jazz melody. His eyes looked up at her, the woman calmly awaiting for the witnessing to continue. His eyes traced the familiar outline of her jawline.

“And your relations to the victim,” he cleared his throat once more, desperately trying to get the clump of anxiety out of it. He barely even spoke to her last night, but now that he sees her in the clear light instead of the streetlamp lighting, he's finding it hard to organize his thoughts.

“Girlfriend.”

“Lila's friend.”

“Okay, and miss Lee you are here to comfirm the alibi of miss Bennet on the night of the murder, December 6th, 2023?”

The woman in front of him just nodded.

“Correct?”

“Yes.” The jazz-like voice spoke up again.

“Can you confirm the location of miss Bennet of the night of the murder?”

“Yes, she had previously announced to me that she had a business trip to attend from the 4th to the 6th of December. She even sent me photos of the trip.”

“Mhm, and where were you off to, Miss Bennett?”

“I told you already, I was on a business trip to New York.” Lila's voice broke. Adriana could tell that the police weren't on her side at all with this. Hell, they are probably too lazy to even do any real investigation and just want to get it over with. She took her hand under the table, squeezing it tightly.

“I told you, I have proof she was there,” Adriana spoke to the man. “I can show you, I have them printed out.”

She reached for her bag, pulling out five printed photos of their chats from the last few days. Christopher's eyes scanned the text, noticing the photos were sent at the right time. He put the photos over the stack of papers on the table.

His attention turned from Lila to Adriana. “And can you please confirm where you were on the night of the murder?”

“I was at home sleeping. At around 3AM, I had to urgently get up to run some errands for my shop.”

Chris just nodded at the reply. “I can confirm that.”

Adriana's brows furrowed in confusion, trying to recall if she came in contact with anybody last night. She was so occupied with running to the store to finish that damn bouquet and by the lack of sleep for the whole entire morning that digging for any more information in her brain felt like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Maybe she didn't hear him right.

“Oh, the shirtless guy.” Her mouth formed an 'O' shape, her finger pointing at him.

His ears perked up at the response. He loudly cleared his throat before continuing. “Alright, and when did miss Bennet arrive back from New York?”

“It should be in the text.” Lila spoke up before Adriana could get a word out.

“You didn’t text me, you called me in the morning.” The other girl whispered to Lila. The hand holding hers suddenly getting sweaty.

The man in front of them eyed them both, switching his gaze from the girl on the left, to the girl on the right. His gaze seemed to stop at hers.

“I told you, I called the police as soon as I got home and saw him lying ther-“

“Please, sir. You even saw me on my way to the shop. You were on the balcony, I remember-“

With a swift motion, Chris got up from his chair, gathering all the papers and binders from the table. “Okay, the hearing is done. I will send the photos for further investigation. Have a great day, ladies.” He barely even finished the sentence before he was already out the door.

“The fuck was that, Chris? You could have asked so many more questions.” Changbin exclaimed, his tone not very angry but rather just confused and laced with dissapointment. He knew Chris never acted weird unless something was bothering him, but he couldn't really guess what was happening to him. He had a simple job of asking a few questions and writing down the answers on a piece of paper.

“We have enough evidence with this. Just send it over and rule her out.”

Dropping the few papers in Changbin's hands, Chris decided to return to the cafeteria, hoping at least Hyunjin was still there.

-

For the third time this month, a man has been found dead in his home. Autopsies reveal that all three victims showed signs of struggle, but unfortunately, no murder weapons or significant clues have been found. The crimes are still under investigation, and we are currently awaiting new information. We kindly ask all citizens if they have any information about the victims or possible suspects, to please contact the number below or the local police department. On the further note, authorities recommend keeping homes locked at all times. I am Tina Mitchell with ABC News—

The monotone voice of the news anchor was quickly cut short by Lila turning off the TV. Adriana sighed, her hands handling the hot glue gun with precision.

“Do you think they're all connected?” Lila questioned, rolling a plastic diamond between her fingers before sticking it onto the fresh layer of glue on the decorative paper. The two had been in the shop for the past couple of hours, sipping tea and trying to shift their minds to anything but the last few days, but to no avail. Every channel they turned to, every video they watched, every radio channel they tuned into—everyone talked about the murders of these three men. Knowing the topic hurt Lila, Adriana never thought of bringing it up first, but if Lila brought it up, she was more than willing to continue the conversation. Adriana, to some extent, understood her but a big part of her also didn't. Jaehyun was abusive, and as crazy as it was to admit to herself, Adriana was happy that the man finally had no way to control and harass her. He was a pretty rich and put-together guy on the outside, but when the covers lifted, he was actually a raging psycho, or in Adriana's words—a devil that should have never walked this earth. Every time he broke Lila into pieces, Adriana was the one gluing them all back together.

“Could be. There are no weapons found in any of them.”

A moment of silence fell between the two. Adriana’s eyes briefly caught Lila’s fingertips picking at the skin of her hands. “I told you to stop doing that.”

“Do you think Jaehyun deserved it?”

Tears brimmed in Lila's eyes, but she tried her best not to cry. In her mind, she thought her best friend had suffered enough because of her, and that her crying again would just set them back. Her friend worked so hard to try to make her feel better, cooking her meals when she couldn’t, cleaning her apartment, letting her cry in her arms.

“Do you want the honest answer?”

“Yes.”

“I do.”

A tear managed to escape Lila’s eye before she could wipe it with the hem of her sweater.

“Lila, he abused you, you are finally free from that.” By her words, Lila seemed to be letting her tears fall more freely.

“I know it hurts, but it was for the better, no matter how heartless it sounds.”

Lila knew Adriana wasn’t the best person to feel remorse for such people, but she couldn’t deny that her best friend’s words did pull at the strings of her heart. She took one more deep breath, finally wiping the last tear off her soft cheek.

Finally, a sob escaped her lips “But it hurts,”

“I know honey, its going to hurt until you tell yourself it doesn’t.”

The girls exchanged a quick tight hug, and a quick smile before turning their attention back to the peals and stems surrounding their table.

The cheerful bell of the store rang as footsteps echoed through the store.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Petal Paradise, how can I—” Lila's sad voice quickly changed by the cheerful customer voice, but it suddenly stopped without a warning, alerting Adriana in the back of the workshop. “How can I help you?” Lila finished in a quiet, almost unhealable voice.

“Oh hello, we didn't know this was your shop.” The shorter man spoke in a soft tone, trying not to alarm Lila by their appearance. “Oh this is not my—”

“Hello, how can I help you?” Adriana took her usual position behind the counter, staring at the two familiar men. The appearance of them sent a protective signal in her mind, quickly pulling her best friend behind her, hiding her behind her own body.

“We're not here because of the investigation, he just wanted to—”

“I saw the arrangements on your display, so I wanted to buy my date a nice bouquet. We don't mean to cause you inconvenience.” Changbin butted in the middle of Chan's speech. Both girls visibly relaxed at the statement.

“What style of bouquet are you looking for?”

Adriana’s words were still laced with caughtion, but she knew she should act towards them like she would to any other customer. Maybe it was a better idea for Lila to come to her shop another day. Seems like this would only bring more trouble on her already weak heart.

“Ermm...” The shorter man rubbed his chin while his eyes scanned all the displayed bouquets, ranging from sunflowers to roses to tulips in all different styles and colors. “This one.” He pointed at the one hanging near the TV. A rich pink and red bouquet with silver ribbons and small pink angels glued to the wrapping. The tulips of various colors hugged each other, making their colors resemble a pink sunrise.

“The tulip one?” Lila spoke up, finally finding the courage to look at the man that she had been pushing and pulling with for the past week.

Still after the confirmance of the alibi, she was still up for questioning for a couple of times before they finally decided to drop her as a suspect from the case. The man who mostly interrogated her was the one who was now standing in front of her, taking interest in the work of her own hands and mind.

Lila quickly made her appearance right in front of Changbin, eager to inspect his wishes for the boquet, much like he questioned her, except this was a much more lighthearted discussion for Lila’s mind.

Lila wasn't a full-time worker at Adriana's shop, but trying to be a good friend, she often hopped in to help Adriana during busy hours. Over time, Lila started to catch a grip on it. In bad moments, the two girls would find themselves covered in glue and glitter, smelling like a Lush bath bomb. Adriana noticed Lila's talent, so she decided to display some of her works in the shop, and Lila couldn't be more proud of them.

To her best friend’s surprise, she visibly got rid of all of her fear and dread by the mention of her own little bouqet.

After a minute of debating, the two found their way to the back of the workshop to discuss futher about the decorations.

“Very romantic for a first date.” Adriana chuckled, looking up at the brown-haired man in front of her as she typed in her register, the only thing making her feel at a safe distance from the man in front of her.

“He sure is.” He nodded in agreement. “Oh, I'm Christopher. I think it would be time to finally formally tell you my name.” His hand found itself reaching out to her.

Adriana hesitated before her eyes fell on the growing pink color on his nose. The faint dimple showed on his cheek as his eyes formed creases while he politely smiled

She took his hand into hers, giving it a few shakes. “Adriana. You're the weird shirtless guy, and the detective.”

He let out a laugh as he let go of her hand, nodding his head. “Don't know about the shirtless guy part.” He chuckled once more, rubbing his nose, resulting in the soft color rushing back once more. “Sorry about that, I was having a rough night.”

“No need to apologize to me. You burned yourself.” Adriana turned on her heel, walking to the outside of the counter and plopping herself on a fluffy emerald green couch placed in the corner of the shop. “You can come sit while we wait on those two.”

The pair found themselves in comfortable silence as they waited. Given that the couch wasn't very big, their knees often bumped into each other, causing a fit of quiet 'excuse me's' and 'I'm sorry's'.

In hopes of trying to avoid another awkward memory in the making, the pair found their focus shifting to the small pastel pink radio and the classical music that was coming from it.

“Enemies to lovers. Joshua Kyan Alampour?” He questioned.

“You listen to classical music?”

“Not really, I just know Clair de Lune and this one.” He chuckled. “I’m more of a rap guy, i'd say.”

“Oh, wow,” Adriana nodded, trying not to erupt in laughter by his awful attempt to strike a comfortable conversation. No way he is an actual interrogator. “I don’t think rap would be suitable for this kind of place.”

“Oh definetley not, stick to classical.”

Adriana was biting her lip, trying not to let the bubbling pit of laughter burst out of her, while on the other hand Chris was trying not to bang his head on the nearest coffee table.

Finally, the moments of despair ended, and Lila and Changbin emerged from the colorful door decorations.

“I'm so glad you like it. Have fun on your date.” Lila exclaimed as Adriana joined to greet them out.

“See you around.” Chris turned to send one of those dimpled smiles again, and with the sudden restriction of the possibility to form a functional sentence, Adriana just smiled and nodded goodbye.

-

The cold winter streets got washed by a wave of rain and wind. The sound of it hitting the ground accompanied by the sound of police sirens and curious groups of neighbours, set the atmosphere of that night. Fourth victim this month. Same settings as always. No forced entry, no sign of any murder weapons, no hopes of Chris ever growing in his bosse's eyes. The police investigation unit had been putting the last few cases as priorities, thinking that maybe this was all a connected act. An act of greed for money, or maybe just pure jealousy, or even just raging partners. The team got called out for yet another eary hour investigation, making Chris curse everyone and anyone that was in charge of distributing cases. He finally managed for once to fall asleep without taking his medication.

The house where the new homocide took place looked monotone as usual, making Chris feel like he got teleported back to the first time he even went on these types of investigations. The floor beneath their feet creaked as groups of forensics and investigators and police hoarded the house, sending comments to eachother every once in a while in hopes of puzzling up a convincing story, but to no avail. Leads were impossible to find and as minutes passed the atmosphere at the crime scene indicated more and more that the only thing they agreed upon that the past few incidents were calculated and connected.

„Do you think somebody was hired to do this?“ A tall man in a white hazard suit spoke up, the suit crincling as he put his hands on his hips.

„Why would anyone spend that much money to kill people like this?“ Changbin answered Hyunjin, widening his arms to point at the state of the house. As usual, the house wasn't very well kept. With empty bottles and various kinds of trash littering the, what seemed like once was, a very light and spacious living room.

Hyunjin shrugged his shoulders. „Debt maybe?“

„Could be, they all seemed to be quite successful at some points in their life. Don't know how that could turn into this.“

A faint sound of moving chairs and the closing and opening of doors could be heard in the background. Hyunjin and Chanbing didn't think to look at the man, figuring he had something mapped out in his mind and that it was best to leave him to it.

„Do you have any connections to the victims?“

Nobody has really came foward about these men. They have gotten a few calls from former employees or from ex-friends, but nothing to make the story significantly change. The girlfriend of the last victim has been ruled out long ago, leaving the case pretty much cold, and by the pace they were going with, it seems like the remaining three ones will end up just the same.

The autopsy report was also long due, looking at the fact that the first body has been sent in for inspection almost a month ago. Without the reports they was nothing they could really do, not knowing the weapon used and not having found one at the crime scenes.

The tensions in the department were heating up. Chris has been assigned to the case for a few weeks now, and by the looks of it, and by the looks that his boss sends his way, he was not in for a good time. Could he potentially be fired? Probably not. Changbin would not let get Chris fired in any book, but was there a chance of him getting landed just heavy paperwork and coffee stains. Very much possible.

The man now inspecting the kitchen floors has working the hardest he had ever been, not even a single peck of dust going unnoticed, and most certanly, not even a small purple petel that had suddenly caught his attention.

It was squished between the cracks of the musty beige tiles of the kitchen floor, leaving some purple pigment smeared across the cold tiles. The glitters from it seemed to be speckled everywhere, from the tiles, all the way leading up to the dining table. It couldn't be that this one tiny thing travelled so far and left such a trail. Chris dug through an archive of memories, trying to remember where exactly he saw that sparkle once before. He twisted the small petal, delicate and vibrant, between his gloved fingertips. It was a dark shade of purple, with a subtle light gradient towards the area where it once used to be connected with the stem.

With a quick whip of his phone, his fingers glided through various apps trying to find the one that would revive his memory, and not long after, a picture of a chucked boquet at an old kitchen counter stood before him.

„I might have found something.“ Chris's voice was finally heard from the next door room, alerting both Changbin and Hyunjin. Soon enough, the suited man found himself next to the investigator, analyzing the small flower remain after snatching it from the investigator at the speed of light. „It's just a rose.“

Leaning over the two men to take a look at the new found item, Changbin cimmed in. „How the hell will that lead to anything?“

„Remember the real estate agent guy, from like a week ago? We saw the same type of flower at his own kitchen. See?“ Chris flashed up his phone of the same flower he took, trigerring a not very amused look on his partner's face.

Changbin wasn't really having any of it, wile on the other hand Hyunjin was  quite intrigued by what Chris had to say. After all the pushing and pullin they might have actually found some type of clue that could help them progress, and not spin in circles.

„Wow congradulations, now we can show the jury that if you buy a bouqet of purple roses that look like a unicorn shit on them you might end up getting slashed by the throat.“

Couple of scoffs were heard. „Come on Changbin, don't be an ass. It could really mean something.“ Hyunjin spoke up.

„How the fuck do we go from here, we follow the glitter trail into a fairy killer's house?“ It was visible to the both men that the last couple of weeks took a toll on Changbin aswell. Everyone expected a lot from him and he expected a lot from himself. „Oh or even better, maybe we should send it to the lab to wait another fucking month, and have Hank bickering above my head for the whole week like a fucking seagull.“

Hyunjin sighed once more as his fingers found their way to rub his temples. „You're such a dick these days.“ And with that, Hyunjin left the two men in the kitchen of the crime scene. Changbin knew he was, but the frustrations came over him like an avalanche.

„I know someone I can ask.“ Was the last thing Changbin heard before he was left by himself, surrounded by the familiar yellow markers and a nausious mix of chemicals.

-

The heavy sounds were muffled by melodic beats, ringing in the ears. Thousands of voices tried to pick the right from wrong, creating a cacophony that drowned out any lost hopes of peace. Thoughts collided, creating a storm too powerful, turning the once melodic rhythmic beats uneven. The storm overcame and swallowed any last bit of clarity. The trees that once grew in the palace of a beautiful mind, planted and left to grow, twisted and turned out of their roots, swallowed by the heart of the storm. One by one, they disappeared.

Eyes shifted from one crimson puddle to another, the scenery resembling a collision of two rivers. The rivers twisted and turned around the room, colors blending with numerous shades of gray, consuming any vibrant speck. Making sense of the surroundings was almost impossible. The body moved on its own, while the mind struggled against a force that wanted total control. This force ordered the body to pick up anything that could potentially give it away, anything that could lead to the destruction of the little paradise the force had created for itself.

Each step was driven by an unseen compulsion, an urgency to erase traces, to cover tracks that could lead to exposure. The air felt thick with tension, every breath heavy with the weight of the task at hand. The rhythmic beats grew more erratic, mirroring the turmoil within. Shadows danced on the walls, fleeting glimpses of a reality that seemed just out of reach.

There was no room for error. The voice echoed, layered, each letter bouncing off the walls. After the final order, it stopped. The limb that once snuffed out the burning candle of life caught a velvety texture. The royal purple splash of vibrance found itself consumed by the crimson river.

-

The morning was greeted by the sun after the last night's storm, creating a rainbow here and there in the light blue sky. It wasn't a busy morning, so Adriana chose to take it slow and not bombard herself with tasks like she usually did when opening the store. With the ring of a bell, she left the colorful little building and headed over to a small coffee shop right across the street.

"One coffee with milk, please."

The young girl behind the counter flashed Adriana a smile accompanied by a nod. Adriana took a seat in a booth near a window overlooking her store, her eyes darting towards the once snow-covered street. The smell of sweet pastries and brewing coffee calmed her mind. For some reason, her body seemed more tense than usual today, maybe due to a lack of sleep or the stress circulating for the past few weeks.

Closing her eyes, she tried to shake away the chills, but to no avail. A dreading feeling had found a home in the back of her mind. Her body felt dirty, and her mind felt even worse. She dug deep into her memory to find the cause but couldn't even remember coming home. The last thing she recalled was going for a couple of drinks with Lila and her friend at the downtown bar, but that was way before the storm even started, yet somehow, she could still feel the wind and rain hitting her skin. Could it be—no. She would never let that happen again, drunk or sober.

The face of her father flashed before her eyes. The feeling of his fingertips brushing against her bare skin, and that stupid smile as he looked at her with every emotion but the one a loving father should have for his daughter.

Her eyes abruptly opened as her name was called. She quickly gathered her stuff from the booth table and made her way to the counter where two coffee cups were sitting. She reached for the wallet in her purse, counting out the loose change to give to the cashier.

"How much for the both?"

Her head turned to look at the voice behind her, and her eyes met with a familiar pair of light brown orbs.

"Chris?" Her brows shot up at the sight of him. "4.40 for the two coffees."

He flashed her a smile before handing a bill to the cashier. "I went to look for you at the store, then I saw you from the window. I was hoping I could have a chat with you."

"Yeah, sure."

Adriana must admit it was a pleasurable shock to see Chris in front of her, but something told her she wasn't in for a sweet chit-chat. With goodbyes exchanged with the cashier, they exited the sweet-scented coffee shop and made their way to the building across. They both set their belongings on the emerald green couch, the couch where Chris felt his legs were going to give up on him last time he sat there. He knew he had to stay professional today, even though he really wished he had an excuse to talk to her about anything but the cases he was assigned to.

He didn't understand why, but the pure sight of her made some type of feeling wash over him, a feeling of his chest tightening and his brain getting foggy. He must admit to himself that he felt very pathetic to be experiencing this in the presence of a person he saw only three times, two of them being completely awkward, and the third being purely professional. It was like he couldn't help himself but be completely drawn to her. Maybe it was her long chestnut hair, or her piercing eyes that seemed to hold as much wisdom as they did mystery. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but he had to snap out of it. He was talking to her for a reason.

"We can sit and chat here. I usually drink my morning coffee here anyways." She led him through the back door to a tiny porch. It was pretty hidden off, a line of big trees and bushes creating a tall fence around the small garden of the store. On the wooden floor sat a tiny light wood table with two foldable chairs overlooking a row of clay pots waiting to be planted with colorful flowers. The garden was quite lively for this time of year, a few winter-thriving plants occupying their space along with the birds that found their home here.

A tiny greenhouse sat in the corner. He figured that's where she grew most of the flowers she used for her crafts.They placed their coffee cups on the table before a comfortable silence took over for a minute.

It felt absurd to Adriana to let a random man sit with her and drink coffee in her place of peace, but unlike with most strangers, she felt quite comfortable with him. It was odd to her rather than alarming. She was always cautious and observant around strangers; she had to be.

"It's quite chilly," he said, breaking the silence. He took a short sip of his coffee before rubbing his hands together.

"Much less than last night."

"Right, I got called to investigate while it was going on." His lips pressed against the paper cup to take another sip. "Barely came home alive."

A chuckle fell out of Adriana's lips as she took a sip from her own. "Now imagine that but you're drunk and in heels."

A small fit of laughs erupted from both of them. "Who the hell thinks of going out in that weather?"

"Wasn't my choice. Lila needed some company. I wasn't gonna turn her down." She shrugged her shoulders, letting out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"How is she holding on?"

"She was fine until the funeral. Now she's back at the beginning, it seems."

Chris nodded. He knew it took a long time to get over such a death, especially if it was a close person, but it felt weird how Adriana talked about it with such ease. Surely, they were close. He was her best friend's boyfriend.

"I'm sorry we couldn't come back with any clues. The body was found with a slash over the throat, nothing more nothing less. We asked left and right, and nobody could recall seeing anybody."

She just nodded, not a word escaping her mouth.

She felt weird talking about it, or rather listening. It's not that she felt much dread about the death at this point, but the atmosphere in the air didn't seem to sit right. She waited for him to speak up again, but he didn't. Soon they fell into the same silence once more.

The once excitement to be talking to Christopher turned into pure anxiety, to an extent even fear. She knew he didn't come here for no reason and she anxiously waited for him to bring it up, but he didn't.

She looked over at him. He seemed to be lost in his mind, focused on something. He didn't notice her gaze shift onto him, so she took the chance to admire his features. A voice in her head seemed to be screaming at her to stop, to resist the urge, that it was no use to fall into these feelings, that he's going to hurt her just like the way the man closest to her did. That he is capable of the things both her father and Jaehyun did. But despite the effort, she still focused on the way his brows knit together in thought, and the way his rosy lips puckered out, chapped from the cold and harsh winds.

In her mind, he represented danger. Not the kind of danger she was looking out for in a man, but the kind of danger that seemed to turn off all her sensors. His presence was like the polar opposite of what she was used to. The presence he held was calm, comforting, so intoxicating to her mind.

"How often do you sell those roses?"

Her head snapped toward the direction he was looking.

"Which ones?"

"The purple ones." His eyes seemed to be set on a bush of dark purple roses inside the greenhouse.

"Not very often, I mostly grow them for my own pleasure."

A hum escaped his throat, his eyes not moving even an inch from the dark flowers. "You like them?"

"Do you recall the last time you sold or gave them to someone?"

"I'm not sure. I removed them from the display in the shop not long ago, so probably before then."

"How long ago?"

"Are you interrogating me?"

The sudden change of her tone caused him to finally look away from them, and rather set his eyes on hers. Her gaze seemed to stiffen and her eyebrows furrowed in defense. With another sip of his almost cold coffee, he reached for the phone in his pocket.

"I found this at all of the crime scenes, including the one last night."

A series of pictures of dark petals submerged in a thick red liquid were shown on his phone. Most were just petals, but the one that caught most of Adriana's attention was a bouquet. A sparkly bouquet with dark brown wrapping, words "I miss you" written out in cursive with red ink.

She felt her breath being caught up in her throat. The sight of it sent a painful sensation in her gut, almost like a sharp knife piercing through her. Her vision got blurry as a wave of tears threatened to fall onto the lit-up screen. "No, no, I—"

"I'm not saying that you're the culprit, I just want to know if you recall who you sold these to last." His voice was awfully calm, like trying to calm down a crying child.

Her voice broke as she spoke up. "I made those for my mom last. I took them down after that. I swear to God I'm not the one who did it. I saw those men barely once in my life—"

"You know them?"

She stood still for a second, rewinding her own words, before fully letting the tears slide down her cheeks. To Christopher's surprise, his suspicion of her didn't grow. Instead, his eyes softened at the sight of the girl in front of him. Her cheeks flushed red as her tears fell each second at a more rapid rate, coating her eyelashes with the salty liquid.

"How do you know them?"

He tried to choose his words carefully. He never imagined being in a situation like this with anyone, let alone with her. With every approach he calculated in his mind, he felt like there was nothing he could do to minimize her tears, yet he still tried to soften his voice the best he could.

"I saw them with my dad in meetings sometimes, mostly when I was little. They were all a bunch of scumbags, rich people trying to become richer." Her voice suddenly changed, laced with bitterness.

"Could I perhaps get in contact with your dad or mom then?"

A couple of moments that felt like hours passed before she stood up from her seat, almost knocking down the now cold and unfinished beverage. She slid the glass back door open and entered the store, her heavy and obviously angry footsteps fading away.

He knew he had messed up badly. It was a dumb mistake to pursue this line of questioning alone. He should have brought Changbin with him, someone with more experience. Doing outside work without his boss knowing could easily lead to being fired.

The sound of footsteps grew louder, but he didn't dare to look up, fearing he'd be met with either a slap in the face or with those bright, glossy eyes that tugged at his heartstrings.

"Here is my mom," a voice said.

Chris finally looked up, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

Forever in our memory, Anita Lee. 1979-2022.

"The dad is at the graveyard, search for the name Leon."

-

"Isn't it weird though?" Changbin sat on the edge of the table, eyeing Chris who remained motionless, the only sound in the room the tapping of a pencil on the armrest of Chris's chair.

"Those damn flowers don't grow at this time of year, and she told you herself that she made the bouquet," Changbin continued, frustration creeping into his voice as Chris remained unresponsive.

With a heavy sigh, Changbin slid off the table. "Should I talk to her?"

"No," Chris replied curtly.

"Oh, come on now," Changbin exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Chris knew the aftermath if the word got out within the unit that he had spoken to Adriana privately. Someone was bound to draw a connection between her and the murders, and just the thought of it sent a chill down his spine. Part of him feared it might be possible, but another part, the emotional part, screamed that she couldn't possibly be capable of such acts. She seemed so... harmless.

"A young girl that works at a flower shop kills four men in their own homes with no forced entry, and no murder weapon. You sound stupid, Bin," Chris muttered, rubbing his temples.

"You're the one being stupid, firstly by going to talk to her before informing anybody, and secondly by being so fucking oblivious," Changbin retorted, pacing in circles around Chris's desk.

Chris sighed, realizing Changbin wasn't going to drop the topic easily. Changbin finally stopped pacing and pulled a chair from a nearby desk, positioning it in front of Chris.

"How about this. I don't tell anyone about your little private investigation, and you let me come with you," Changbin proposed, leaning forward with a serious expression.

"No chance," Chris replied firmly.

Without another word, Changbin stormed off towards Hank's office, clearly intent on taking matters into his own hands, or better yet, to force Chris into submission.

Chris scrambled to his feet, hurrying after Changbin. "Wait, hold on."

Changbin stopped abruptly, turning to face Chris with a raised eyebrow.

"I could use the backup," Chris admitted reluctantly.

Changbin smirked at the response he knew he was going to get either way. "I knew you'd surrender so easily.”

-

„Adriana. Adriana what the fuck?“ A loud and terrified voice screamed, but there was nobody in sight.

Silence.

„Adriana please, you're scaring me.“ There it is again, louder this time.

„Lila?“

„Adriana please, put that down.“ Louder. She knows too much.

„Wake up, please.“ Louder. She is going to give us away.

„I beg you, please.“ You have the rose in your bag. Just kill her already.

Silence.

„What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?“ A voice screamed, as the scene in front finally cleared.

Lila stood in front of her, a completley unreadable expression plastered on her face. It was like a mix of terror and relief in one. She looked around. Lila's kitchen?

„What the fuck?“

„Yeah, what the fuck is right. Put that shit down.“

Only when Lila grabed the object from her hand, she realised what she was holding.

„When the fuck did you get the idea to sleepwalk into my fucking kitchen and start banging your head, with a fucking knife in your hand?“ Lila's screams got louder than before, clearly fear masked by anger overcoming her senses.

She opened her mouth to say a word, but nothing came out. Absoutley nothing. The only thing she could do is cry. She doesn't even know why she was crying, or how she got there in the first place, but the tears rolled down like a waterfall.

„I'm so sorry,“ Were the only words Adriana said through tears before she stormed out of the apartment.

-

This was his second pack of the day. Actually, maybe even third. He couldn't be bothered to count at this point. With the flick of the lighter he inhaled the deadly smoke once more.

Thankfully the weather was calm tonight, maybe too calm for his liking.

With the year being over, the department had an annual meeting about how everyone was progressing in their path, or in other words, public bullying. At least it seemed like that to Chris.

After an underwhelming review that Hank announced to the whole department about Chris, he decided to try to get his mind off of things with a short walk. That short walk turned into a two-hour sitting session by the sea with a pack of cigarettes and two bottles of cheap beer. He thought of inviting Changbin, but by the end of the meeting he figured he would rather let him celebrate with his girlfriend rather than drink his boredom away with him; after all, the other cases Changbin had been assigned to, other than the ones with him, had been successful.

They did find some information, but nothing significant to the case, but more about Adriana's father. They decided to snoop around and ended up finding some news articles about her dad. He was a highly respected man, a business owner. Neither Adriana nor her mother were mentioned anywhere in the articles, but a weird piece of information did get noticed. Supposedly, he died at the start of last year, and by the looks of it, nobody knows how. There were no signs of struggle on his body, and no culprit in mind. In the pictures of the funeral, there were no family members, or in other words, no Adriana. The articles suspected it might have been either an alcohol or drug overdose.

Nothing about her mother was found either, and despite Chris's attempts to gather Adriana's phone number from the records, she was never picking up his calls.

He came to a point where he didn't even know what he was searching for. Was it information to catch the killer, or to frame Adriana? Probably not the second one. Firstly, he didn't want to think about that even being a possibility, and secondly, it was absurd to think a flower from the local and only flower shop in town would automatically make the owner the killer. As sure as Changbin was that something might be up with her, to Chris all he heard from him was nonsense.

He took a sip of his beer, deciding to focus on the sound of crashing waves rather than the shit his mind was trying to come up with.

Taking a deep breath, he scouted the beach. The moonlight above made the sand light up like thousands of diamonds. Furthering his gaze, he caught a glimpse of a silhouette sitting on a bench, a couple of meters away from where he was laying on the sand. The light breeze combed the silhouette's hair as the moonlight drew lines of their nose and chin. She looked like a painting from that far away.

The silhouette's hands made their way to her face, seemingly to wipe something off. Tears, perhaps.

She stayed still for a moment—a moment that felt like days—before catching her face in her hands and bursting into tears. The sobs wouldn't be so loud if it wasn't the dead of night, and awfully quiet to begin with.

He decided he would rather leave her alone, figuring his presence would just be a bigger burden for the girl. That was until her voice managed to say something in between sobs. Hold on.

„Adriana?“

She didn't seem to stop crying, but she lifted her head towards the voice. A familiar feeling of shame washed over her once she realized whose eyes she had met. The shame that always manifested itself when she was crying in front of someone.

„You alright?“

It was a stupid question. Of course she wasn't. She was choking on her own tears, for fuck's sake. He decided to get up, step by step coming closer to her. The only thing she could reply with was her head shaking no.

„I get that we're not friends or anything, but you can tell me if you want.“

He was now sitting next to her, closer than usual.

Keep your mouth shut

With a sniff and a wipe of her tears, she cleared her throat. „It's just my mom.“

She didn't understand why she was saying that. Maybe deep down inside, she thought he would view her differently, maybe even as crazy. Even if she really wanted to, she couldn't form the words to explain to him what had just actually happened. It was like something was screaming at her, threatening.

„You miss her?“

She didn't answer, but rather burst into tears once more. Not because they were mentioning her mother, but because she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth.

He felt his heart shatter at the sight of her. He couldn't shake the urge to reach out for her cheek, to wipe away the tears that escaped her light eyes. Maybe that was crossing the line. Maybe this wasn't the right time. He could potentially make the situation even worse. He quickly pulled back the hand that had started to reach for her tears.

Her head started to pound. She couldn't understand her behavior, and it made her want to scream at the top of her lungs. His presence was so calming, but her mind was like a storm. She really had hoped he could be someone she would let her walls fall down for, the one that would know her more than anyone, even Lila.

„Yeah, I miss her, a lot,“ she croaked out.

His eyes stayed focused on her, watching how her chest moved, how she wiped her cheek every now and then, and how her gaze never left the scene in front to look at him.

„Come with me.“ He extended his hand for her to take. Finally taking her gaze off the ocean, she looked up at him. She tried to focus on his features through her blurry vision, how his dark hair perfectly complemented his pale complexion, how his eyes creased at the corners, and how his lips curved slightly upwards.

Soon, her soft fingertips made contact with his. He pulled her up from the bench with a light tug.

Maybe it was an act of loneliness from both sides, or maybe it was that they found peace in each other, but for the whole walk across the beach, neither one of them disconnected their hands from one another's.

-

Chris led Adriana to a secluded spot above the beach, almost like a cliffside that looked over the shore. The place was well hidden behind some trees, and it seemed quite tricky to get to, but he managed to help her climb all the slippery and stern pathways.

The place itself was made of smooth, weathered rocks, their surfaces polished by years of relentless waves and wind. They formed a natural seat, comfortably wide and just the right height to sit on and dangle your feet above the beach. Patches of moss and tiny, tenacious plants clung to the crevices, adding a touch of green to the grey stone.

Empty bottles were scattered around them, remains of past visitors who had discovered this hidden gem, and also the remains of their own. The only noises heard were their own laughter, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore below.

Chris opened another beer and handed it to Adriana, who took it with a tipsy smile. "Cheers," he said, clinking his bottle gently against hers. The moonlight above made the moment feel almost surreal, casting a silvery glow over everything.

Adriana took a sip and sighed, her shoulders relaxing a little. "How did you even find this place? I feel like I should deserve a medal for even climbing all the way here."

Chris shrugged, looking out at the vast expanse of the ocean. "Needed a place to clear my head one day so I wandered around and stumbled upon it."

She nodded, staring at the horizon. "It's peaceful up here."

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the weight of their own respective burdens momentarily lifted. The tranquility of the place seemed to work its magic, easing the tension that had gripped Adriana's heart.

Chris glanced at her, his gaze softening. "You know, I don't wanna push your buttons or anything, but why aren't your dad and mom buried together?"

Adriana's eyes didn't well up with tears this time. It took her a moment to form her words, but that only made the boy's body tense up.

"My dad was an asshole."

He stayed still at her words, not wanting to disturb her train of thought.

"He was pretty, let's just say, agressive-" She took a deep breath before continuing. "He killed my mom in a burst of anger."

There it was again, that heavy, unsettling atmosphere. The train of words suddenly woke up Chris's tipsy mind, making him feel like he just got slapped in the face with a cold wet towel. "I, I'm so sorry for asking."

"Chris, it's fine. I'm coping, see?" She tried to crack out a smile while picking up the half-drunk bottle of beer, wiggling it in front of his face.

As she put the bottle back down in its place, she kept her eyes to it while carefully placing it down, "He got home drunk one night after going out with his business partners for a few drinks, some were the ones that got killed not long ago. He got mad at my mother for some stupid fucking reason and slashed her throat with a pair of kitchen scissors."

Chris felt a wave of nausea mixed with sorrow wash over him. It was his job to listen and see these kinds of situations, but now that she was there in front of him talking about her own family, it felt like a completely different situation. It's like his professional part of the brain that was supposed to be intrigued by those stories got turned off, and replaced with pure sorrow. "Jesus, Adriana... that's..."

"Yeah," she interrupted, her voice steady despite the heaviness of her words. "He never got to pay for his actions, well, he did pay with his money. He bribed the police, there was nothing I could do about it."

Chris didn't know what to say. The weight of her story hung in the air between them. He wanted to comfort her, to say something that would make it better, but he knew there were no words that could heal those wounds. Instead, he just squeezed her hand gently.

Adriana looked at him, a stern expression still glued to her face, despite feeling her jaw relax by the sudden contact. "I guess someone took the situation into their own hands, one day I just got a phone call that he died, I don't even know how. I couldn't really be bothered to give a fuck either."

Chris stared at her, his mind racing. He wondered if her father's death was linked to the recent murders. There were too many coincidences, too many connections. "Do you think... do you think the same person who killed your dad might be involved in these recent murders?"

Adriana shook her head, her eyes distant. "I don't know, Chris. Maybe. But whoever it was, they did me a favor."

He nodded in response, emptying out his sixth bottle of the night. "Did he hurt you?"

"That night? No. But he did do some things when I was little." She felt the words come out so naturally. It wasn’t usual for her to talk about what she went through with her father, but the mix of booze and quietness made her speak before she could think, yet still managing to avoid bringing up the reason that resulted in them sitting together like this.

The boy’s ears perked up. Like a bullet his head shot towards her, eyes widened like an owl. “No fucking way-„

You're giving us away

A searing pain stabbed through Adriana's head like a hot needle, causing her to cry out and clutch her head in agony. Panic started spreading through her body like venom, distorting her vision and making her ears ring. The world around her spun uncontrollably.

"Adriana!" Chris exclaimed, his voice filled with concern and urgency. He knelt beside her, gently trying to support her as she trembled in pain. "Adriana, what's happening? Talk to me."

Get away from him

Adriana's mind felt like a chaotic storm, every step pounding in rhythm with the searing pain that lanced through her head. Despite Chris's desperate calls, she couldn't stay still. Her body moved on its own accord, driven by a force she couldn't name.

Chris watched in shock as Adriana bolted away from him, her figure disappearing into the darkness between the trees. "Adriana, wait!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet and running after her. It was like a demon possessed her. Did he once again step over the line he swore he would not cross again?

He followed the path she had taken, his heart pounding with worry and confusion. "Adriana, please," he called out again, hoping she would hear him, hoping she would stop.

Despite his efforts, she was long gone.

“Shit.”

His fingertips found their way to tug at the strands of his brown locks. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? His slow steps brought him back to the scattered bottles.

A tiny purse laid on the cold ground, the ground where Adriana was sitting just minutes before something took over her.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 14 🍒

"1984"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2,984

Summary: a pause in the story to focus on Joel's own particularly life-changing moments and uncovering the past which brought him to you.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), TW for brief mentions of teens having sex (nothing in detail and it's all consensual), language, mentions of teen pregnancy, brief mentions of underage male with adult women, underage drinking (it's the 80s), takes place in winter though fall 1984, a small part takes place in July 2003, no use of y/n, TW for unknown parentage, if I missed anything please let me know.

Author's note: I'm a sucker for backstories, if you haven't noticed, and I wanted to give a little insight to what Joel was like as a teenager.

Series Masterlist

February 1984 Austin, TX

Joel waited in the cold parking lot of his high school, cigarette between his lips as he leaned against his dark green Ford F150. "Damn, where the hell is he?" he muttered to himself, checking his watch.

Finally Chris showed up, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, looking at the ground as he walked, his mind a million miles away.

"Fuckin' finally! Where you been?" Joel stamps out his cigarette on the ground. "Shoulda left an hour ago."

"Sorry," Chris mumbled, leaning against the car as well, his face cloudy with worry. "I was talking to Anita.."

"Yeah? What'd she want?" Joel kept his face impassive even though Chris was lost in his own thoughts.

"Man, she's pregnant," he mumbled, letting out the longest sigh of his life.

Joel froze. "Pregnant?" He gets quiet too. "Is she for sure about it?"

"She missed her period twice already. She says she took a test and it's positive."

Joel nodded, his face took on a serious look as he did calculations in his head. "Well, what's she gonna do?"

Chris sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "She wants to get married."

Joel scoffed incredulously. "Is she crazy? Y'all ain't even finished school yet!"

"I know," Chris moaned. "I don't want her to keep it," he confessed after a long quiet.

Joel shook his head. He had no words of condolence to offer his best friend.

"Maybe she'll lose it," Chris whispered, his eyes far away. "She could trip or something, when it's early like this, any little thing could make her lose the baby."

"That's fucked up, Chris."

"She only wants to get married so she doesn't have to live with her parents anymore. She thinks we'd be better off married, living on our own.. I'm not gonna give up my dreams, Joel. I can't. I won't."

Joel sighed deeply. "You wanna get drunk?"

Chris shook his head. "I've got a shift over at the food mart."

"Y'know, I could see if my dad would give you a job," Joel offered. "Construction is hard work, but it'd pay real good."

Chris just shrugged. He was still in shock, still unsure of his next move.

Later, after Joel dropped off Chris, he went home and called Anita. He'd have gone over to her place himself, but her parents were strict and didn't approve of boys coming over.

He locked the door to his room and dialed her, glad that she picked up so he wouldn't have to go through her parents.

"Hey, it's me," he drawled into the phone. "Talked to Chris today. Says you're pregnant."

"Damn it, he wasn't supposed to tell anybody," Anita groaned.

"Were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Why would I?" He could hear the boredom in her voice.

"Well shit, Anita, you know why." He got quiet a moment. "You and me were together around the time you got pregnant."

"That doesn't mean anything, Joel." Anita sighed.

"It sure as shit does. How do you know for sure it's Chris's baby?"

"Joel, Chris is my boyfriend, of course it's his. I must have missed a pill or something. But it is his baby."

"You're tryin' to trap him. He don't want anything to do with this, You shoulda seen the look on his face, like he'd rather walk off a bridge than go through with you havin' a baby."

"Shut up, Joel," Anita said sharply. "He'll get over it. He's gonna do the right thing by me."

"And if the baby ain't his?"

"It is," she said with unwavering tenacity.

"Anita.. Christmas break we went to Sherry Rivera's house party, and do you remember what we got up to in the spare bedroom?"

"Joel.."

"Yeah, I know you remember, 'cause you'd asked me for one last fuck before you stayed faithful to Chris for good."

"Joel, how dare you!"

"It's true though." He stretched out on his bed, vividly recalling that December night with Anita moaning in his ear as she rode him. "How many times did you cum? Three? Or was it four?"

"I'm hanging up now."

"For real, Anita," Joel sat up, his anxiety over the issue finally coming to the forefront. "Is it my baby?"

Anita sighed, and even over the phone he could sense her brain going a million miles an hour. "No, Joel. It's not."

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated, fearing she wasn't telling the truth. "Anita, I--" then he heard a muffled voice, giggling on the line. "Tommy!" he shouted, banging on the wall. "Get off the line, you little shit!" More giggling, then Joel heard the other line click and Tommy had hung up.

"My mom's calling me to dinner," Anita said quietly. "Can you just talk to Chris for me? I know he'll come around. He'll listen to you. You're his best friend."

"He doesn't know? About us?" Joel asked.

"Why would I tell him that? It'd break his heart, Joel."

"But he's the one you left me for."

He didn't mean it to sound that way, he was going for accusatory but it came out vulnerable.

"I gotta go," Anita whispered. "Please don't call here again." The line went dead.

It was Valentine's Day, and though he would never tell anyone about it, that was the day he had his first heartbreak. Sure, he'd had plenty of girls since Anita had broken up with him before sophomore year started, and they'd definitely hooked up even since then, but this was the moment he realized he lost her for good. And this was the start of the rift between him and the best friend he'd ever had.

He called up Debbie, a girl in his math class who he knew liked him, and of course she was available that night. He showered, picked her up and took her to the only Italian restaurant in town that had a table available. After spending his last twenty bucks on dinner, he took her an isolated point at Covert Park. A half hour later, the windows fogged up, he got on his way to take her back home.

And so it went for weeks after that. If he wasn't working part time for his dad on the new subdivision in town, he had a girl in his truck, headed off to God knows where, to do whatever the mood struck them.

Summer was worse. He worked with his dad, painting houses, installing AC units and appliances, applying flooring, anything that could earn him money. Sometimes when he worked alone, the lady of the house would be present, and more than a few times the opportunity presented itself for him to take up these older women on their offers of lemonade or a massage, which always evolved into a quick, hard fuck against the countertop, or on a freshly carpeted living room floor.

Nights were his own, usually spent drinking with some guys from the football team who he didn't particularly care for, but they had fake IDs and knew easy girls.

Every time Chris called, Joel was out, with friends or with a girl. The few times Anita and Chris saw Joel out in public was in line at the movie theater, buying tickets for Purple Rain or at the Pizza Hut with a date. Joel turned away when he saw Anita getting bigger, her figure blossoming into that of a mother. Chris approached him to say hi, and Joel was good-natured with him, almost like old times, but it was obvious that something had changed. Anita hung back, hand self-consciously going over her belly, noticing the way Joel seemed to look right through her.

"Ain't you even gonna say hi to me?" she asked him one night, catching him as he came home from a party.

"Thought you told me not to talk to you no more," he slurred, brushing past her to get inside to his house.

"Joel Miller, you're not gonna walk away from me!"

"Shut up," he muttered, stepping towards her as if he'd shut her up himself. "Can't you be quiet? Always gotta shout and moan.. what the fuck do you even want anyway?"

"I'm here for Chris. I want you two to mend your friendship."

Joel let out a hearty guffaw. "Aw Christ, Anita. What's it matter to ya anyway?"

"Can't you be quiet?" she said in turn. "He's not the same since y'all ain't been talkin'.. he barely talks to me sometimes.. I think he misses you."

Joel heard that, and looked Anita up and down. "Does he? I think you're the one missin' me, darlin'."

"Shut up. I didn't say that."

"Ya didn't have to." He grabbed her by the waist and she didn't protest. His eyes hungrily took in her form, the way her breasts swelled over her top, her hips nice and full, and the firm roundness of her belly. "Is that a Miller in there.. or otherwise?" he all but growled in her ear.

"Oth-otherwise," she stammered.

He kept his eyes on her a long while before he finally released her. "Get in. I'm takin' ya home. Ya shouldna walked here all the way. It's past midnight."

She got in, immediately smelling spilt beer, some other girl's cheap perfume, and the unmistakable scent of sex in his truck. "You've been Mr. Popular all summer," she said sullenly.

"Yeah? Jealous?" He started the engine, taking off.

"Over your sorry ass? No way," she muttered, but she kept eyeing him from her seat. "Kelly Johnson said you laid her, then picked up her older sister and fucked her too."

Joel's grin was about a mile wide. "Oh yeah? That's what she says? She forgot to tell you I did their mom too."

Anita hit his arm. "Just let me out here. I'm walkin' home."

"The hell you are." He sped up a little until he reached her house, devoid of any lights on within. "How your folks takin' it?" he asked, nodding at her baby bump.

"They still won't talk to me," she said quietly. "But at least they're letting Chris stay over. We're getting married next month," she said, holding out her ring finger upon which rested a simple diamond ring, probably the best Christ could afford on his shitty grocery mart salary.

"So it's for real." Joel slumped in his seat, gripping the steering wheel tight.

"It's for real," she echoed, and when Joel stayed quiet longer, she leaned in and softly kissed his cheek.

Suddenly all the longing he'd suppressed, all the pain of longing for someone he couldn't have.. everything bubbled back to the surface and he took her in his arms, kissing her. And just like old times they found themselves hurriedly undressing, removing only what was in the way. Pants down around his ankles he pushed up the hem of her dress out of the way as she sat on his lap, holding on to the dashboard as he let her ride him. It seemed to take forever and yet only a few minutes until she came, and he followed soon after.

"Lemme guess: that was the last time?" he muttered as he tucked himself back in his pants.

"You're a good lay, that's all. And Chris ain't been himself lately."

"Give him my regards."

"Damn it, Joel, just call him," Anita said exasperatedly, making herself look more presentable as she got out of the truck. "You're like a brother to him. He needs you."

Joel already had the engine turned back on, a Bob Seger song rumbling on the radio. "I already got a brother," he said, driving off.

He tried. Joel did try to reconcile with Chris. That coming school year they were juniors, and in the same homeroom. But it began to be difficult to start a conversation that didn't automatically become about the baby. And Joel wasn't good with questions like that.

The girls gushed over Anita's large belly when she showed up to bring her transfer paperwork to the alternative school for pregnant teens. Then thankfully (to Joel) she was gone the rest of the semester.

Chris and Joel resumed their friendship about as much as two seventeen-year-olds in their predicament could. Football season started up again, as well as wrestling season, and Joel was at practice constantly. Then in late September, Chris was gone, having dropped out. The night of his birthday he got the call right as dinner was being set down.

"It's a girl," Chris said breathlessly over the phone, his voice tinged with excitement and a tremor of fear. "A beautiful baby girl, and wouldn't you know it, on the same birthday as you, Joel."

July 2003 "Are you kidding me?" you ask. "Joel.. are you kidding me?"

"Huh? What?" he snaps out of his reverie.

"I didn't know you had a mullet in high school!" you burst into laughter. "You look like Billy Ray Cyrus!"

He laughs, running his hand over your soft hair as you stretch out on the bed with him. You'd found the old box of photos in the attic and just had to show him "I can't believe my dad looks so young here.." you say wistfully. "What happened to that truck?"

"I gave it to Tommy when he got old enough to drive. Then I think he sold it later on. Who knows where it is now.. probably busted up for parts or in a junkyard somewhere.." That picture had really cast a nostalgic spell over him.

You fall asleep on his chest, eyes too heavy to stay awake for the ending of Gladiator no matter how cute you think Russell Crowe is.

Joel's mind is on the past. You've awoken memories you had no part of, at least not willingly or consciously.

With Anita and Chris gone, it was like his life, the one he'd always known and always felt comfortable in, was gone too. In the past several months he'd gained popularity and had a few girlfriends but no serious relationships, but none of it really meant anything without his best friend at his side.

Only when Anita had finally graduated from the alternative school did Joel get the call about the news. He was a few weeks away from his own graduation when he learned Chris and Anita would be moving to Houston, where Anita's family came from. The baby was getting bigger, and Chris mentioned that Joel hadn't come and seen her. He had no answer for that, only a halfhearted response that he'd plan to stop by before they moved.

He never did.

After graduation Joel went to work full time for his old man, learning the business that would one day be his. He filled his days accordingly, still broke a few hearts from time to time, still raised a little hell with the boys, but he became more solemn, kept his real thoughts and dreams to himself.

He was in his early twenties when he met Sarah's mom at a club. He hated clubs, preferring laid-back bars, but he'd been suckered into it by some friends from work who wanted to let off some steam. And there she was, on the dance floor, an angel in a short and slinky number, drink in hand, and when she turned her gaze and her eyes met his, Joel swore he'd forgotten any other woman existed.

He didn't remember much about that night except the little apartment of hers, that they had to keep quiet because her roommate had work in the morning. But they were not quiet, and much to Joel's lament the next day, they weren't careful either. A couple of months later she found him at one of his sites, having remembered the name of the company he worked for, and told him, while he was carting a wheelbarrow full of concrete, that she was pregnant. He'd talked her into keeping it, promised her a wedding and anything else she wanted.

He purchased his parents' house, the one he grew up in and had hoped to raise a family in on his own time, and he fixed it up for her and the baby, turning his own bedroom into the nursery. Tommy'd be graduatiing soon and had plans to enlist, so it would all work out. Joel would have a wife and a child, none of which he'd planned on quite so early, but he was looking forward to it all the same.

He tried to make it work with her, but the more time they spent together the more they realized they weren't compatible beyond anything outside the bedroom. He knew it, and still he tried. She knew it, and didn't stay long. The day Sarah was born was the happiest of Joel's life. He'd never imagined that a creature so small, so defenseless, and which cried so often could take hold of his heart in such a way. When Sarah's mom left, leaving only a note regarding her sincere apologies, it struck Joel as more of a relief than anything, even though he was now a single dad. He had help from his parents and brother, and even from his neighbors, cousins of his old buddy Chris who remembered Joel with fondness.

Days sped up, and soon Joel took over the business when his father got too ill to take care of things. Sarah and Joel became their own little unit, a family of just two that still seemed to work more efficiently than traditional families. Sarah looked so much like her mother that at times it hurt Joel just to look at her, but she was an entirely different person: strong, stubborn, extremely smart and savvy. And independent. Joel was proud of the way he raised her, and never considered that he'd love anything else as much or have as much to lose.

And then he met you, and you fucking changed everything.

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dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[romantique-dreams]

IT'S GONNA KILL ME - E.M (VOLUME TWO)

summary: you knew that any words that came out of eddie's mouth were too go to be true, but he was proving your theory correct with any chance he could get. two could play that game.

w.c: 7.1k

warnings: SMUT. 18+ MDNI!!!. angst, swearing, drinking, party scene, mentions of being drunk, p in v, overstimulation, oral (m & f receiving), throatfucking, bondage (a belt), dom!eddie, fuckboy!eddie (all kinds of ! eddies), reader getting hurt during intercourse, unprotected sex, creampie. this is all i can think of and see for right now and i will update as necessary!

it’s gonna kill me vol. 1 (here)!

authors note at the end, pls read <3

It was easy to say the last three weeks between you and Eddie were less than eventful. You were both back to the intolerable normality of meet up and fuck, which slowly came to a stop; no obvious signs, no gentle touches, not even a kiss goodbye. You didn’t feel very exclusive to him, regardless of his last words to you that night.

You should’ve known better— should’ve expected it from him. He wasn’t hard to read, he was a guarded person who had fortified armies around his very being. He didn’t feel remorse, he basically didn’t feel anything, which was only evident from the glimpse of him with another girl in the woods ravaging at his neck just as you had done—eyes laced with sacrilegious intent.

You could tell from the way his eyes pierced blazing holes into you that he never meant a word of what he said. 

It was about time you ventured to someone different, someone with no attachments, someone you had barely known. It was the perfect opportunity to release all the anger pent up inside of you, transfer it into this poor human being looking for no more than a good fuck. Chris didn’t know what he was getting himself into, he thought he had bagged a horny babe looking for hookups—little did he know he was trespassing. 

You and Chris had tentatively planned to go to a party you both just happened to get an invite to, which meant the two of you were in an awkward limbo until you were positive you wanted to be seen with him in public. You and Chris were not together, no one had seen you together, and you weren’t a couple; but people in Hawkins loved to shoot the shit. It was a never ending cycle of sneaking around to avoid the judgmental looks sent your way from the ruthless citizens that resided within. 

You and Chris had tentatively planned to go to a party you both just happened to get an invite to, which meant the two of you were in an awkward limbo until you were positive you wanted to be seen with him in public. You and Chris were not together, no one had seen you together, and you weren’t a couple; but people in Hawkins loved to shoot the shit. It was a never ending cycle of sneaking around to avoid the judgmental looks sent your way from the ruthless citizens that resided within. 

Ultimately, you decided to go to the party with Chris—god forbid if anyone saw you there together. You already mapped out your plan for the night: you would arrive with Chris, go “get a drink”, and just happen to get lost. Your interest in him had waned and he was pretty annoying. It wasn’t a well thought out plan, but this man was dense.

―

It was about twenty til eight, just about the time he was supposed to be picking you up. On cue, his headlights were flashing through your living room windows, casting a warm glow on everything that lay untouched. You were usually home by yourself and things began to collect dust. Your parents were away more often than not on various trips, meetings and vacations they claimed their job sent them on. Sometimes, they went away for entire weekends to visit your brother in Pennsylvania, leaving you on your own. You didn’t mind though, you liked your alone time.

You gathered your wallet and house keys in one hand and finished the fruity drink you called your pregame, which was clutched in your other, and discarded it as you walked out the front door, making sure to lock it behind you. The chill winter wind bit at the apples of your cheeks with a shade of rouge covering your skin as your breath fanned out in front of you, only to be left behind you with each quick step towards Chris’ car. Winter had just set in the dreary land of Indiana and soon enough the roads would be too treacherous to venture out onto. 

“Hey there, sweetheart.” Chris shot you a wink as you shut the passenger door behind you and you fought to hold back the gag that threatened to force its way out at the blazen ick he gave you

You were always the one throwing around pet names, but now you hated them. The very thought of a title being put in place instead of your name made your whole body cringe—it was never the same after things were cut off with Eddie. You grew to hate the very thought of being with someone romantically, and frankly you didn’t care about others anymore. Since then Chris was always the middleman between you and your constant inner quarrel with your feelings, doggedly taking the brunt of it.

“Hey.” It was all you could give to him. 

Chris was fast to put the car into drive and head to the party. The radio was playing low as the defroster worked double time to keep up with the cold air, preventing it from fogging up and distorting the driver’s view. Soft tunes reverberated from the sides and the back of the car as you fiddled with the hem of your sweater. 

“I wonder how many people are gonna be there tonight considering the roads are absolute shit.”

Out of all things Chris could’ve been good at—it was small talk. He was the type of person to never leave you alone, silence was not his thing, and you hated that. You knew it wasn’t his fault. He’d seen every inch of you clothed and completely naked, so what was the issue? What was your problem? 

“‘M not sure, hopefully not too many people with how cramped Lacy’s trailer already is.”

Lacy was a distant friend, yet a decent one at that. The two of you didn’t always talk but made time for the annual get together, consisting of talking shit about fellow schoolmates and complaining about home lives. It was the one thing you seemed to look forward to.

Chris took your small replies as a notion to cease the small talk and focus on the road. It wasn’t too long until the snow covered sign of the Forest Hills Trailer Park came into view and you were pulling into the drive. Previous car tracks surrounded by the wintry mix led to the back of the second set of living quarters, while shoe prints and red solo cups littered the outskirts. 

Plenty of unfamiliar faces were staggered around the front of Lacy’s trailer, all accompanied by a significant other or friends, none recognizable though. Most of the guests were clad in their winter attire with the bottom halves of their faces covered by the wool scarves their mothers made them, no doubt. It was a trailer party, after all. 

—

Eddie fucking hated parties, they weren’t his forte, neither were small spaces in general—so you can only imagine how a party in a trailer was going to go. Unlucky enough for him it was a brisk three minute walk down the unpaved road to get there.

Eddie weighed out his options on what the night could possibly have in store for him: getting drunk (that was a must), skipping out and going to The Hideout, fucking some random, lighting up in his van at the quarry—really anything to get him out of his damned trailer. He definitely wasn’t planning on having a companion for the party, nor was he planning on going home with anybody—but drunk Eddie was the worst at sticking to his planned agenda. 

He made a swift beeline to the drinks while his eardrums shrieked in terror at the god awful music they were playing. Rock Me Amadeus by Falco was not on his party playlist. 

The assortment of alcohol that lay before him wasn’t very vast; wine coolers, hard liquor, and natty light. Trailer party. He went with hard liquor, anything to not have the taste of perfume or cat piss, an unwelcoming yet unsurprising taste for the quality of beer, lingering in his mouth. 

He even took a shot. Or, it was supposed to be one. One turned into multiple shots of lukewarm whiskey, but one thing about Eddie was that he could hold his liquor in ways others couldn’t. He may have been on the skinny side, not much meat to him, but plenty of nights at The Hideout while trying to shake pre-show jitters was enough to condition him. 

Alas, nothing had been stimulating him well enough and he quickly grew bored, which ultimately led to him taking a step outside on the front porch to light the pre-roll he had with him. He never left home without one—even when home was a couple of yards away. His motto was always you never know when you might need to show up and toke up. 

As he took long drags from his joint, his last exhale caught in his throat and his eyes trailed to the end of Lacy’s driveway, finding you almost instantaneously. Tears were brimming at his lash line as he tried to clear the burning in his throat, coughing up a lung—smooth move, Eddie. 

You were placed under Chris’ arm like a new found toy he couldn’t wait to show off, but your face said what you didn’t need to. Your lips were pressed into a tight line and your eyes stayed harsh. Eddie could see you were unhappy and couldn’t help but feel resentment within him starting to bubble. Although, it was pretty fucking funny to see you with Chris out of all people—lord knows that man didn’t even know what a vagina looked like. The jealousy didn’t last long, pity soon took over, and he couldn’t help but feel for you. There was no way Chris was pleasing you, satisfying you the way you deserved. 

Eddie removed himself from the situation before you could notice him and made his way back inside with a gameplan. If you could show up with someone else knowing Eddie would be there, he was going to find someone too.

It didn’t require much effort to find a desperate girl looking for a dick to grind on, then again, he was pretty charming when his high was doing the talking for him.

—

You wrapped your arms around your exposed torso, compensating for the lack of fabric since you had opted for a smaller shirt—hoping to bring some sort of spice to your night. Chris attached himself to your hip and grabbed your arm as he led you to the front. You really weren’t in the mood for being paraded around, nor were you willing to deal with the quizzical looks or questions of whether you two were together or not so you were in a foul mood. Definitely shouldn’t have come with him.

The two of you ventured your way inside as waves of bodies crashed into one another in the tight space. Music resounded off the walls while the very picture frames holding sacred memorabilia rattled. As the bass crept into the tattered wood, the paneling of the walls squeaked and you could feel every step of the other partygoers. 

“I’m gonna go grab a drink, I’ll be back.” 

You were grabbing a drink, but you sure as hell weren’t coming back for Chris.

You sighed to yourself as your eyes scanned the excited crowd of inebriated teenagers, shuffling your way into the kitchen. The counters were littered with alcohol; while most of the bottles were tipped on their sides, the remaining liquor poured out onto the laminate tops, subsequently covering every item in a sticky glaze. 

You decided to pour yourself a drink from a bottle containing blue liquid rather than opting for the spiked punch that seemed to make an appearance at every get together. You took a few sips of your liquor as a familiar warmth coated your throat and you were pleased it didn’t taste disgusting, a content sigh leaving your lips after you finished off the rest. 

It didn’t take long for a few more cups of liquor to hit your system and leave you with a floaty buzz that lingered in your actions— rendering you quick to forget Chris had been your plus one. 

A familiar voice traveled through your ears and sent a pang to your chest as you eavesdropped into a conversation nearby. 

“We can totally go back to my place, yeah? No pet names though, or any funny business like that. Just this once, ‘kay?”

You could feel the resentment in this man’s voice. 

“Haha, yeah, totally.” The female drunkenly giggled.

Your features dropped, a frown contorting onto your lips.

Eddie.

This is bullshit, absolutely not.

You poured yourself a fresh cup of a red wine that was untouched and mustered up all the courage left in you to turn the corner in an abrupt motion. You were holding the cup out in front of you with only a soft grip on it, any quick movement was sure to knock it onto whoever it came in contact with. The scarlet liquid proceeded to spill all down the front of the ‘innocent’ victim, a groan of disgust leaving the male’s lips. 

“Oops?” You mocked as you looked the person up and down with a scowl and shrug of your shoulders.

“Are you fucking serious?” 

Your eyes blinked rapidly trying to clear the blurred vision that distorted Eddie’s figure.

“Looks like you have a little something on you there, need me to help?” 

He snarled through gritted teeth as his hands balled into tight fists. “No, actually we were just leaving. I don’t need your help, she can help me.”

Eddie wrapped his hand around the drunk female’s arm and yanked harshly, eyes burning into you as you stood with your mouth agape.

“Yeah, alright! Go ahead! Fuck her, sounds like a plan. Not like you said you’ll be exclusively seeing me or anything—I was the best one you had, nah.” Your tongue was laced with venom and your blood boiled beneath your skin. 

You could visibly see Eddie’s body tense up as the words hit him. You could see each syllable savor within his being. His grip was loosened immediately and the girl’s arm was thrown back to her side as he charged towards you. In one swift motion your wrist was enveloped in his large grasp and you were being rushed away to the backyard of the trailer—his trailer visible from where you two were. 

“What the fuck is your problem, Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Why don’t you tell me, Eddie?” All emphasis was pushed onto his name.

“I have no fucking clue,” he drawled, “I saw you were here with Chris anyways, why don’t you go find him? Go fuck him, huh?” His finger drilled directly into your chest. 

You cackled in disbelief. “You think I want to be here with Chris? How stupid do you really have to be to think I want to be at a party with Chris?”

Eddie’s hands fell beside him, gripping the fabric from his denim jacket while his knuckles turned white. 

He knew you didn’t want to be at the party with Chris, but it was really all he could use against you considering the circumstances—he was the one who left you hanging.

“Are you just going to sit here and bitch at me, or go fuck Hannah and Emily? Or god knows who?” You spat at him as your face was riddled in disbelief that he had the nerve to confront you about Chris.

“Can you just shut the fuck up for two seconds? Like is that a thing you can do?” Eddie glared.

“No, actually I can’t. Do you want to know why?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, good. I was going to tell you anyway.” 

“You were the one who told me I was the best. You were the one who said you exclusively see me. How I am acting, Eddie, is completely your fault, and you’re too self centered to even notice anything!” 

By then your hands were trembling and your words were flying out faster than your mouth could form them.

Eddie stood unphased as you unleashed on him. He knew he was in the wrong, but it's what he did, and you should’ve known that. 

“Oh look at me! My name’s Y/N and all I want is a boyfriend to care for me and kiss the soles of my feet because I’m just such a lovely lady! Eddie’s the perfect candidate! He loves me, and I know he does! He’s just the best!” Eddie mocked, voice significantly a few octaves higher, “you’re a fucking idiot. If you would’ve opened your eyes for just one second outside of me fucking you, you would’ve realized I’m one of the most unavailable people in all of Hawkins! You just don’t want to accept I didn’t want you.”

He was lying to you and himself. 

The air between the both of you grew hotter as you invaded each other’s space. The veins in his neck bulged and your face flushed red hot as you screamed at one another—chests heaving and hearts racing.

“Pah! You’re hilarious—are you a comedian?” You almost fell forward from the outburst of laughter that left your mouth. 

“Shut your mouth, Y/N. I swear to god if people see us having a lovers quarrel at this party—” He trailed off while he snatched a hand over your mouth.

You ripped Eddie’s hand off of your mouth and glared.

“We’re not lovers. You don't do that, remember? And the reason why we’re even having this quarrel is because of you! You’re too fucking selfish, you say you don’t want me but you roped me into this. All of a sudden it’s such an issue that I’m pissed off and here with someone else, who I don’t even really want to be here with—but why would that even matter? Unless you care, and you’re too worried about what I would think, hm?” 

Eddie snickered as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. “That’s a good one, Y/N. Now you’re the comedian!”

“Hilarious, I know." You deadpanned.

Eddie stood before you, eyebrows quirked as his nostrils flared with vexation. You could see his heartbeat bounding off of the alabaster skin of his neck that was riddled in marks from various women. Eddie was out of his element—he was never the one at a loss for words. His thumbs twiddled beneath him with each corner of his thumbs inflamed from the incessant picking at them that he was doing.

“Alright since I’ve struck you speechless, here’s what you’re gonna do,” you paused as you snapped in front of his face with curtness, “You’re taking me back to your trailer. Do you copy, Edward?”

His only response was a stiff nod.

—

The silence between the two of you was deafening. Nothing could resolve the insufferable tinnitus that played between your ears; not  the booms from the attendees, and not even the roars of the engines going up and down the drive. 

There was a significant amount of distance between you and Eddie as you walked—he stayed on his side and you stayed on yours, reluctant to not have any lingering touches of each other's hands swaying back and forth. 

Eddie’s features were hardened; his lips showed no emotion, his eyes stayed lidded to the ground, while the muscles of his jaw tensed with every step he took. Eddie was uncomfortable, and he really did not want to do this—so why was he letting you coerce him into this? It couldn’t have been the way he was drawn to you, nor the way you made him realize what he had wanted. 

According to Eddie there was absolutely no way possible his fortified armies were surrendering. He saw no tattered white flag being waved around his heart, and there wasn’t ever going to be one at that. Those armies surrounding his heart were to stay on full lockdown, but they could for only a small amount of time until you started treading through No Man’s Land.

Your army consisted of you, and only you. You tore through endless cities while you left a warpath in your wake as you came to your final destination—Eddie. 

As you stumbled upon the steps leading into Eddie’s trailer you pondered at who might’ve been here when you weren’t. Could it have been Pam Macy, or Chissy? Or god forbid Lacy? 

You inhaled deeply through your nose as the familiar scent of his humble abode tickled your senses, his trailer hadn’t changed much. The numerous caps on the wall that collected dust lay in the same spots they were while the coffee table littered with taxes and bills remained unkempt. Dashes of empty beer cans and microwaveable dinners lay across the counters as you strode by to his room. You even made sure you were careful enough to not step on any of the land mines of dirty clothes that trailed back. You paid no mind to the disarray that was his trailer though, you knew they were scraping by for all they could.

“Alright, why are we here?” He stared at you quizzically as his left hip popped out—a nervous habit he developed from his unsteady childhood.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” You drawled while making yourself comfortable on his bed, a bed that was all too familiar to you by now.

“Jesus christ, Y/N,” he huffed, “I’m so sick of this back and forth. You tell me this shit is my fault, then you don’t elaborate. And then to top it all off you turn around and attempt to interrogate me as if I can follow all of the incoherent sentences that come out of your fucking mouth!”

Ouch. That was a low blow and he knew it.

You couldn’t stand the way he talked to you, but his strong stature lured you in. All dignity that was left within you circled the drain by the second until it completely left your body and seeped into the floor, leaving a mortifying puddle at your feet. Your bottom lip trembled as you swiftly made your way over to Eddie, hoping he wouldn’t murder you for what you were about to do.

You raised your left hand and wound it back as if it was under tension until the spring let loose in your elbow and the flat of your palm came in contact with Eddie’s cheek. A welt and imprint of your hand formed almost immediately while you were able to notice small blood vessels bursting under his skin, interrupting his ivory complexion.

Eddie stood unphased as the only noticeable feature were his eyes darkening underneath the dim light of his lamp. 

A malicious smirk spread across his face as he soothed his cheek with his left hand—cool rings bringing comfort to the sting. 

In a blur Eddie’s free hand attached to the nape of your neck simultaneously drawing you closer. 

Well this certainly wasn’t the plan.

Both of your hands reached to grab at his wrist that strained under the pressure of pulling you closer while all of your attempts to get him to detach failed. His grip trailed to the front of your neck now, still no words being spoken from either party. 

“Eddie—,”

“Shut up.”

With little to no effort, similar to if you were a rag doll, you were tossed onto the bed—and Eddie was quick to follow up. He slotted himself above you, his face as though it was chiseled from the marble the Greek’s used.

With one finger he gestured up and down your quivering figure, “do not move.”

All color drained from your cheeks as Eddie worked at your hands with his belt which resulted in you losing any leverage. A carnal instinct was inhabiting itself inside of Eddie, burrowing deep within his skin and trumping any sense of remorse that lingered. 

The constant turmoil that festered inside of him when he looked at you was truly the worst, he had never been so at war with his mind before. Both battalions in each hemisphere of his brain were waiting for the next command, armed and dangerous as they defended their morals. The morals in question were whether or not Eddie was to give up his deadbeat persona of being the ‘sex god of Hawkins’, or finally surrendering and telling himself to raise up his white flag  just for you. By the end of the night either side would come out victorious; however, it may not happen the way he hoped for.

This back and forth the two of you were doing was sending him into a spiral, the real culprit being his feelings that he dreaded, but it wasn’t going to stop him. Eddie planned on getting what he wanted regardless of how he had to do it. That thing he wanted lay in front of him on the bed with big doe eyes piercing through him, wrists bound, lips pouting—just the way he preferred. You.

Eddie danced his fingers along the curvature of your hips to your waist, finally stopping at their final destination on your supple lips. He pried your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb and gently swiped it across, resulting in a small bounce back from them since his hands had been clammy. He could feel your body quivering beneath him as he was still hovering over you; scared of what was to come. 

With both hands he ravaged at your shirt, you were sure it was going to tear from the brute force he applied. You could hear the seams popping as he worked around your bound wrists—until you couldn’t. Your bare chest was displayed (much to his liking), nipples budding at the bite of the cold air that engulfed his trailer; Wayne hadn’t paid the electric bill this week. You could feel the intensity of Eddie’s stare as it trailed from your navel only to stop at your neck, his eyes bulging out of his head almost instantly. 

A familiar heat rose from the floor and into Eddie as his pupils blew and his jaw clenched. 

Were those marks from Chris? 

Eddie huffed through his nose and jolted towards you, never missing a beat as he grabbed your chin between his fingers to pull you to him.

“So now you’re letting Chris touch you? Unbelievable,” he scoffed as he tossed your face to the side in revulsion. 

“I—,” you choked.

“What did I say?”

Your eyes fluttered down in defeat. You could see the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest with each sharp inhale and exhale that he took; he was fuming. You hated letting Chris touch you, let alone just look at you, but you still had needs that required being tended to—but Eddie wasn’t going to listen.

The rest of your garments were quickly discarded by him to the floor as his followed right behind. He placed both hands on your inner thighs, his fingertips leaving indents in your pliable flesh. Eddie pried your legs apart, salivating at the sight of your bareness before him, this was his favorite part; you were vulnerable and you couldn’t do anything about it. His mouth attached to where your thigh and pelvis met while he suckled and nipped at the skin with intent to leave a trail behind.

To say Eddie was fuming at the thought of Chris’ mouth on your body was the understatement of the year. Granted, Eddie was the one who did leave you, and the one who led you on—but he never expected you to go out and fuck someone else. He was too strung up in the fact he thought he had you wrapped around his finger, but yet again, he was wrong. 

Each reminder fueled his malicious intentions with you tonight, each becoming stronger than the last. His mind spun as he began to feast on your core. You were dripping from the force he was using on you, and you tasted divine. He had been starved of this, starved of you—completely malnourished that just the taste of you sent him into a ravenous disposition of no return. 

He lapped up all that he could before prodding into your hole with the tip of his tongue, each stroke deeper than the last. Eddie hovered his thumb around the hood of your clit, only gently flicking when he reentered his tongue to match the pace of his thrusts.

“Dear lord,” you mumbled out breathily.

Eddie worked and worked at you while you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Profanities slipped past your gaped lips and hung in the air that surrounded you two; and the scent of sex, weed, and sweat wasn’t following too far after. Your wrists were still bound in front of you and within no time the handcuff links started to bite at the delicate skin around them, leaving small—but noticeable—irritated splits in place. You yearned to lace your fingers throughout his locks that cascaded down his shoulders and hung besides his chiseled cheeks but you were rendered helpless. 

There had been multiple chances for you to have had your release by now, but Eddie wasn’t going to be generous with you tonight. He could feel you clench your walls around him and hear your breath hitch in your throat, yet was quick to halt all movements he was making so your orgasm would dissipate. It was borderline torture what he was doing to you, and you couldn’t take it any longer. You needed a break—your body needed a break. 

“Good god Eddie,” you writhed under the harsh grip he had on your thighs, “it’s too much. T-too sensitive, please. Please for god’s sake.”

Your chest heaved with each syllable as your eyes fluttered to the back of your head, only the small galaxies that rippled across the back of your eyelids keeping you grounded.

Eddie’s eyebrow quirked up at your pathetic pleading, able to decipher what you needed without you elaborating. The male grabbed your hips and slung you to the edge of the bed on your back so your head was hanging off, hair tumbling beside you.

Eddie reached to his nightstand and shuffled through the top drawer, returning with a lit pre-roll in his posession. He took a long drag from it and exhaled with his lips pointed downwards for the smoke to invade your space, and sneak into your lungs. You inhaled with each exhale that he aimed towards you. You could feel the pulsating between your legs, the way Eddie’s comforter caressed the baby hairs on your arms, the ache that settled behind your knees and in your calves, and the heaviness of your surroundings. 

It wasn’t even thirty minutes in and your mind had been fucked out, yet the marijuana contrasted everything you were feeling in that moment. While you huffed and puffed beneath him with worry that your wrists were never going to be set free, you knew that Eddie had you—just like Eddie always had you—and he was going to take care of you the way that he always took care of you. 

“Open up, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he gripped the entirety of his cock in one hand and tapped it against your lips. 

You willingly obliged and he was quick to push himself to the hilt of your throat, emerging an instant gag from inside of you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he nuzzled himself inside of your throat—you could feel the bulge that poked underneath where your chin and neck had met. 

“That’s it—,” Eddie praised with a soft pat to your right cheek, “good fucking girl.”

You grunted in response around him eliciting a heavenly moan from his mouth, more smoke tumbling past his chapped lips. He began to thrust into your mouth, assaulting your uvula and the top of your mouth. He would pull out fully to let you gasp for air, as you choked on the oxygen that your lungs so desperately needed. 

Eddie grasped onto each side of your head for more leverage with one hand taking a fistful of hair and continued his fluid motions of pillaging your throat. Spit began to pool at the corners of your mouth and trickle down to your temples, knotting your hair in the process and leaving a puddle of spit beneath you. 

Your throat was growing sore along with your bound wrists, and Eddie was able to tell. He could see the distraughtness that covered your features, leaned forward with his length still in your mouth and hastily removed the belt that restricted you up until now. Regardless of the discomfort you were in you could feel the wetness that gathered between your legs and covered your thighs, complete embarrassment wiping over your body. Your cheeks flushed a bright red and your eyes stayed half-lidded as Eddie observed you from above. 

“Poor poor thing, too cock drunk to even tell me that I was hurting you.” 

He gently caressed your shoulder and grabbed your wrists to inspect them, still inhabiting your mouth with his throbbing length.

You whipped your head backwards, spit dripping down the tip of your nose with an uneasy feeling in your stomach from the amount of times you had gagged around him. 

“It’s kinda hard to protest when your cock is in my mouth and I can’t move my fucking hands, ‘ya know?”

“Thanks for the insight, dumbass,” he chortled.

“Anytime,” you deadpanned.

Eddie reached forward, cock twitching from the cool air brushing past it, and grabbed your hands while being mindful of the open sores on your wrists. He looked down at them and maneuvered you to be facing him, his lanky frame still wavering over you. Everything about you was a mess: your mascara left tracks down the apples of your cheeks, dried spit covered your chin and neck, and your hair had been knotted behind your ears and near the nape of your neck. 

“‘M sorry about your wrists, didn’t think you’d pull that hard,” he whispered as he circled his thumb around them. 

“All good, nothin’ I can’t handle. Now are we gonna get this show on the road?”  A smirk encapsulated your lips as your eyes glimmered under the dim, warm light of Eddie’s domain. 

You situated yourself to where your legs were propped up and spread on the edge of the bed, your head meeting in the dip where Eddie laid the most. 

Eddie dropped to his knees in front of you with blown pupils, face level with your puffy lips beneath you. He cradled each of your thighs in his hands before taking one swipe of his tongue over each fold, inserting himself instantaneously after.  Eddie filled you up like no other—not even Chris had made you feel so full to the point it felt like he was going to rip through your uterus and puncture through your stomach. It was a comfortable stretch nonetheless, you enjoyed—more like loved—having Eddie bury himself so deep inside of you. You adored his ridges, his veins, his mushroom tip that prodded each spot so perfectly. You’d be a liar to say you didn’t miss this.

“Oh fuck—,” Eddie wavered from above you, hands gripping the sheets beside you.

He was quick to thrust into you, not sparing any time for you to adjust to the newfound stretch. A cacophony of sounds ranging from skin slapping, whimpering, and moaning reverberated in both of your ears, blissfulness settling in over the both of you. 

As Eddie barrelled into you your hips pulled back to meet each movement forward, eliciting sweet sounds of pleasure from your lips. He curled his lower half upward to prod at the spongy spot that was located just past your entrance, each thrust harsher than the other. His hand found its home placed around your neck and gently placed pressure on the sides, rather than directly on your windpipe. Stars clouded your vision and your mouth hung open, only choked out moans and whimpers able to be heard from you.

“You take it so fucking good. Did you know that, baby? You can handle me better than anyone else can. Eddie’s so proud of you,” he praised as he bent forward to lick a stripe near your earlobe.

“I always knew that, Eds.”

A cynical smile curled onto his lips and his pace quickened. You could feel a burning growing in your stomach, trailing down to either side of your thighs, and down to your toes. It developed fast and grew even faster when he began assaulting your clit with his free hand, the calluses giving an otherworldly sensation to the overstimulation you were already experiencing from your never-ending night. 

“R-right there, please, please don’t stop, Eddie,” you drawled out.

Eddie took that as a sign to quicken his pace and pour everything into you. He could feel your walls sputter around him as your release took over your body, the liquid covering both him and the sheets underneath you. You threw your head back crying out in pleasure and frustration as Eddie’s hands and cock resumed pillaging you, relentlessly plunging into you. With each entrance the head of length gave your cervix kisses, sure to leave it bruised, and sure to leave you with a bit of soreness the next day. But who were you to care when it felt this good?

“J-Jesus H. Ch-Christ, Y/N, your pussy loves me,” he mocked, yet stuttering as he was nearing his end as well. “She’s so needy for me, I can feel her sucking me in for more.”

Eddie pushed you further onto the bed and flipped you around so that you were on all fours. He grasped each ass cheek that lay displayed in front of him and quickly submerged himself back inside with a shiver. It took him no time to resume where he had left off, his hand now placed back around your neck so his chest was pressed flush against your back. He contorted your body to hit your spongy spot once again, your thighs shaking from beneath in response. 

“Cum inside, do it, Eds.”

“Right where I was going to anyway. Jesus fuck—,” he stuttered with the lasts of his strikes into you.

You could feel him twitch inside of your gummy walls, his hot seed covering everything it came into contact with as his thrusts faltered. His body fell forward and he was now hunched over top of you with your face buried into the musky comforter that was now soiled. Eddie peppered small kisses over the small of your back and left them hovering just behind the shell of your ear.

“You did so good,” he mumbled with his hot breath fanning across your neck.

Eddie was pussy drunk as he came down from his high, so inebriated to the point where coherent thoughts were thrown out of the window and back at the party you both abandoned. 

He placed himself next to you in a more comfortable position now, both of you now laying rightways on his bed. You stared over at him as you traced your eyes along his silhouette; his hair was matted to his forehead and his brow laid firm across his face as he steadied his breathing.

“Quit staring.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh—even when he was so fucked out he was still his egotistical self.

Eddie slung one arm around your shoulders and pulled you to him, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. Your scent invaded his nose; lavender, bergamot, and the sweet smell of your release reminded him he was where he should be—beside you in his bed.

—

The morning sun shone through the blankets Eddie hung up as makeshift curtains since he couldn’t afford any real ones and breezes of cool air came through the cracks of his window. It was the perfect concoction to disturb the peaceful sleep you had dozed off into the night before. 

You blinked rapidly in an attempt to adjust your eyes to light that distorted your view after just waking up. Eddie’s arm was still wrapped around, only now it was around your torso and his leg was sprawled across. You sighed quietly to yourself, careful to not disturb him as he was still asleep. 

You unlatched his arm from around you and sat up gently, swinging your legs to the edge of the bed. You pinched the bridge of your nose between your pointer finger and thumb, penitent of what you were about to do to him. 

It was an extensive search to find your clothes among the sea of dirty clothes piles that belonged to Eddie, reluctant to find they weren’t too far when you stumbled near the door. You slipped yourself into last night's garments and whisked yourself out of his bedroom after taking one last look at him as he rested. His mane stayed unkempt even in the early morning, curling around his ears and forehead while he took deep and even breaths. Only slight twitches came from him as his brow furrowed—you wondered what he had been dreaming about.

You didn’t want to do this to him, but he left you with no choice. After previous occurrences you had to give him a taste of his own medicine whether you liked it or not. You were never the person who up and left, you were the one getting attached quicker than what you liked to admit, and this was hard for you to do. It was especially hard after how sweet he had been when he noticed he’d hurt you last night—but it was what you had to do. You had to show him what it was like. 

You whisked yourself out of his front door, not allowing yourself any time to think further about Eddie or last night. You soon realized that Chris was the one who had dropped you off and you were left with walking home, or searching for the nearest phone booth to have someone pick you up—you opted for the latter and continued on your way home.

—

Eddie soon woke up after you had left, the noticeable indent in his bed missing. He sat up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his balled fists and groaned as he got up to put on a pair of most likely dirty sweatpants. 

“Y/N?” He called out as he popped his head around the door of his room.

You were nowhere in sight. 

He ventured into the living room to see the screen door and the storm door hanging open, the cold winter breeze taking the opportunity to invade his humble abode. All that was left behind were your shoe prints that led to the entrance of the desolate trailer park.

To be continued.

[seospicybin]

HOMESICK.

The next chapter of Haven.

Bangchan x reader. (s,f)

Synopsis: After being separated by the distance, Chan learns to build a new home with you. (11,7k words)

Author's note: Sorry it took a long time for me to finish it. You can definitely read it without reading Haven first. It's a sweet fic of domestic romance with Chan. Swear to you there's no angst in it. Happy reading!

What makes a home?

Well, it takes two to build one.

It started with the need for each other's presence in life.

"My bed feels so empty without you," he said into the phone.

You chuckled in response, "or maybe your bed is too big,"

You heard the faint sound of piano playing in the background, "the neighbor is playing the piano again?"

"Yes, here listen," chan held out his phone on the balcony so you could listen to the piece of piano.

"You heard that?"

"Yes, it's Nocturne by Chopin," you said to him.

"It's so nice," he sighed.

"Yeah," you also sighed.

"Gosh, I miss you so much," he softly said.

And you felt it too, how the distance between you drained the life out of you the longer you were away from each other.

"I miss you too," you said back and wished that saying it would lessen the ache of being away from each other.

It became a habit of him calling you whenever he misses you, or you miss him, or when something reminds any of you of your shared memories.

And this habit only made this longing for each other more intense, turning all the wants into needs.

Until one night none of you could take it anymore.

"Come back to me," he said with so much desperation in his voice like a wayfarer who had traveled long without water.

"I need you here. Come back!" He said again.

It was either of relief or joy, but you cried because he wanted it as much as you did.

"Move in and mess my place again," he said.

You laughed into the phone, "yes, okay," you answered without thinking because your heart yearned for him, to be in his life again and him in yours.

"I'll wait for you at home,"

"See you at home," you said to him knowing that those words wouldn't just be empty words anymore.

If you ask again, what makes a home?

You always thought that when you found it, your heart felt it, that sense of comfort you didn't get anywhere else, an instant serenity like you're exactly where you belong. Your heart felt lighter but full at the same time, lighter because you know all your weariness disappeared in an instant, and full because your heart filled with warm feelings.

You felt all that as he hugged you.

After a year of being separated by miles and miles of distance, you came back home, to him and the heart that beats inside his chest where your home truly lies.

"Welcome home," he whispered into your ear.

And you hugged him tighter because it felt like a dream still.

"Chris..." you muttered into his chest then looked up at him.

You had thought over and over about your decision to move in with him, not that you doubted him but it was a big decision that required you to move abroad but also left your job and life back there to move on to new things entirely.

"Thank you for coming back to me," he sincerely said.

And that was enough to convince you that this was the right decision.

The year you had spent away from each other was excruciating, tormenting, raging storms and dark days, the distance did nothing but made you both vulnerable and restless, you didn't need each other to merely exist but something just didn't feel right.

It was nice to go out of the house once in a while but if you were away too long, it dawned on you, the homesickness.

"I'm so happy to be home," you said and the agonizing pain of being away from each other disappeared at that moment.

The sound of the piano welcomed you back into Chan's apartment and you went to the balcony to listen to it loud and clear.

They played Beethoven's Piano Concert No. 5 and it couldn't be more a perfect piano piece to play on such an occasion.

Chan came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you, "it feels complete now,"

You put your hands on his and rested your head on his shoulder, your head tilted upward at the night sky dotted with stars.

"No, it isn't," you disagreed.

You pressed a kiss on his lips and he gladly returned the kiss.

"Now it is," you said against his lips.

He smiled at you and sank his mouth in yours while tightening the hold around you, not letting you go again.

Having you on his bed again felt like a dream.

The shape you took against the white sheet, there's nothing like it.

For this one night, he wanted to make sweet love to you.

He touched you so tenderly as he would to a flower with so much tenderness, fingertips trailed your smooth skin and raised goosebumps all over you.

"You're even more beautiful than I remember," he murmured with eyes following his hand squeezing the flesh on your waist.

You never felt more loved and admired in your life, but he did more than that, worshipping every inch of your body like you were a goddess.

His mouth endlessly whispered sweet words into your ear.

"You're so heavenly."

"My hands can't stop touching you."

"Gosh, I miss kissing these lips."

"My love..." he sighed with so much delight and contentment.

The sex was slow and steady, continually thrusting into you with the same depth and intensity. Mouths incessantly kissing you, hands clasped with fingers slipped between the spaces of your fingers, perfectly like they were made for you to hold.

Chan was overwhelmed, it felt as if he had sex for the first time all over again and it was because of you, you made it all happen for him.

You rested your head on his chest with him resting his back against the headboard, your legs tangled together under the duvet and your foot rubbing his shin.

He kissed you so tenderly and seemed won't stop doing it, "I can't believe you're here," he said.

"I can't believe I'm here," you repeated.

It all still felt like a dream to you, it was only hours ago you have separated miles away from each other but here you were, cuddling with him on the mess of his bed.

"I can't believe you're doing this for us," he said with utmost sincerity and a bright smile.

But you smiled at the word 'us', which was the word that means so much more than just a part of English vocabulary, it means having and owning, you and him, together at last.

"I trust you," you said.

"I trust us," you corrected, lacing your hand with his.

You knew the future was distant, not within reach but you gradually approaching it, things are inevitable, good or bad. You didn't want to think of what the outcome would be, you put your faith in you and him, on the word 'us' and hoped that the word etched in both of your tombstones.

Chan kissed the back of your hand then placed it on his chest with his heart beating under the skin and bones, "I trust us," he said back.

If you want to build a home, you started by having a strong foundation: trust.

-

"You don't have to work, I'll provide for both of us," Chan confidently said to you while serving you a plate of breakfast.

You cooed in awe, "wow, that's very tempting!"

You slid the plate closer in front of you and took a sip of your juice before picking up your spoon.

"It's just an option!" He said with a shrug and that foolish grin of his.

He sat next to you with his plate of breakfast in front of him but his hand rested on your thigh, "you don't have to worry about the interview," he assured you.

"You'll do great!" He kissed your cheek to manifest his words into you.

A little before you left, you applied for a job at an art gallery and secured an interview. You forgot how nerve-wracking a job interview could be but once you have done it, it felt so relieving, and surprisingly, you didn't worry about anything else after that.

Chan came home for dinner, smothering you with kisses the moment he stepped into the apartment, only letting you go as your lungs shriveled from running out of oxygen.

"You're cooking dinner?"

You nodded.

"How's the job interview?"

You put your hands on the collar of his shirt, "You'd better wash up and back in five minutes, dinner is almost ready," you told him.

He smiled and pecked your lips, "yes, ma'am!"

The neighbor started playing their piano early that night, they played Piano Sonata No. 12 by Mozart, the piece began with a soft key then switches to an even softer key, and you let the calming piano music wash over you.

"How is it?" You asked as he ate his dinner without saying anything.

"It's so good that I can't stop eating," he praised, wiping his mouth with a napkin to kiss you on the cheek, a compliment to the chef.

He drank his glass of water and paused eating, "so, the interview?" He picked up the conversation you had earlier.

"I just got the call a little before you came home," you said.

"And?" He leaned forward, eyebrows wrinkled in curiosity and anticipation.

"I got the job," you announced with a smile.

Chan smiled like he knew it was going to happen, that he was right, you did great like he predicted that morning.

You both stood outside on the balcony and listened to the neighbors playing Franck's Piano Quintet.

Chan held you from behind, putting his hand around your waist and the other hand trailed down your arm with his fingertips lightly rubbing your skin.

It was so nice to stay in a moment like this with you, encased in comforting, warm feelings like all the problems in his life are a world away. Just you and him in your iridescent little bubble, sharing touches and syncing your breathing, hearts beat as one.

He angled your head to meet his and didn't waste time capturing your lips in his.

"Are you going back to the studio?" You asked, knowing that he likes to keep himself busy in there.

He shook his head, "why would I want to be anywhere else but here?" He asked back with a smile.

He didn't want to be anywhere else but here, close to you with his hands touching your soft, warm skin for as much as he wants and have you the way he wanted.

On the bed with your legs spread open for him while he pushed his cock deep inside you and it mesmerizes him still how you take him well every single time.

"Always tight for me," he murmured.

You locked your legs around his waist while his hands reached for yours, holding them while he pounded into you, his eyes fixated on the way his cock slipped in and out of you.

"Chris..." you breathlessly called his name.

"I love how you call my name," he said between his groans, picking up the pace at how easily you riled him up just by calling his name.

When he cum, he slowly pulled out and heard you whimpering at the sudden emptiness. He rubbed your abdomen, waiting to see his cum leaking out of you and when it did, he sighed in satisfaction.

You sat up on the bed and saw his cock still firm despite just cumming inside you a moment ago.

You scooted closer and rubbed the tip of his cock slick with both of your bodily fluids, so softly with your fingertip.

"How are you still this hard?" You asked in pure curiosity.

"I could make love to you every night and it will never be enough," he boldly stated.

It's that easy for him to make your heart flip and aroused at the same time.

"There's no use for me to stop you, huh?"

You already knew the answer without needing him to say it and that was why he laughed, his tongue poked his cheek and he had no idea how attractive that looked on him.

You kissed him with your hand wrapped around his length, positioned yourself to let him enter you one more time, eased down on him with your eyes closed, and felt this cock stretch you again.

It seemed to take him by surprise that Chan wasn't prepared, he gripped your waist so hard you were sure he left crescent marks on your skin.

You put your hands around his neck and hastily kissed his open mouth, moving your hips in a circular motion to feel his whole length inside you.

"You feel so good inside me," your voice broke at the end of the sentence, feeling his cock engorged inside you.

He couldn't speak, his head was foggy with immense pleasure to process your words and respond to them.

"So good, Chris," you cooed, softly grinding back and forth on his lap.

And just like that, you made love to him or either he made love to you, every night was the same except that the pleasure doubled every time your bodies collided and your needs were fulfilled, ever-growing, insatiable.

His alarm clock rang at the crack of dawn, you jolted awake but he hurriedly turned it off and cuddled you back on the bed.

"It's my alarm, you go back to sleep," he whispered to you along with a kiss on your bare shoulder.

Sleep was easy when his touches worked wonders to put you at ease and his kisses were soothing and comforting.

You woke up a while later with him pacing around the bedroom, collecting his things, and putting his shirt on.

"You have an early schedule?" You mumbled while rubbing your eyes.

"A radio interview," he shortly replied.

He climbed onto the bed, brushed your hair away to caress your cheek with a tender look on his face, "I'll be back at dinner time,"

You nodded with a sleepy smile.

He went on to kiss you on your closed mouth because he knew you didn't like kissing in the morning without brushing your teeth.

He pecked your lips again before getting off the bed, slung his backpack on one shoulder then left.

You clutched the duvet to cover your bare chest and shifted on the bed, still drowsy and it was still too early to get ready for work.

"I forgot something," Chan walked back into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed to kiss you.

"I love you," he said and sneaked a quick peck on the lips.

"Good luck on your first day at work!" With a long lingering kiss this time.

You smiled even though you were running out of breath from the kiss, "I love you,"

"Have a good day at work!" You returned.

He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, reluctantly letting it go before he left the bedroom again for real this time.

I don't think I can have dinner at home

It's alright, love

But I'll come home as soon as possible

See you at home

And he was glad that you were waiting for him at home this time for real.

He got home a little after midnight and saw you were sitting on the bed, painting your toenails with blue nail polish.

"Do you need help?" He asked, put his backpack on the desk, and took off his hooded sweater.

You outstretched your hands to hug him while sitting on the bed, "hey, baby," you properly greeted him.

He then sat next to you and pressed a kiss on the side of your face, "How's your first day at work?"

"Long," you shortly replied with a sigh.

You looked so adorable looking sullen like that he couldn't help but kiss your pouty lips.

"Let me do it for you," he offered, taking the small bottle of nail polish from you and lying on his stomach with his head looking over your feet.

"Even your toes are so cute!" Chan praised as he focused on the task at hand.

You watched as he carefully and intently painted your toenails one by one until they were all polished in cobalt blue color.

"How are we looking?" He asked.

You looked down at your feet, wriggling your toes, and smiled, "Well done!"

He looked at you with a grin, satisfied with his work. He then started blowing air on them, making you softly laugh at how it tickled you.

Chan looked over his shoulder and saw you with a questioning look on his face.

"My feet are sensitive," you informed.

That came as new information to him and one that would come in handy when it comes to giving you the right touch.

"You would love some foot rubs then," He proceeded without waiting for your answer and started giving you foot rubs, slipping his fingers in the spaces between your toes and gently massaging it, teasing your sole and making you giggle.

Chan got a little mischievous and planted a soft kiss on the bridge of your foot.

"What's that for?"

"I just wanted to kiss it," he answered, lifted your foot in his hand, and kissed your instep.

You knew he has something planned in his mind for you and you could only watch what he'll do next.

Chan made a long trail of kisses from your ankle to your inner thigh, not stopping even though his head was between your legs, forcing you to spread your legs open for him.

You put your hand in his hair and softly scratched his scalp, "Chris?"

He put a soft kiss on your inner thigh, "yes?"

"I have bad news for you," you said.

His head snapped at yours with eyes widened in slight shock, "what?"

"I'm on my period," you told him with a grimace.

He sighed with eyes closed, that was the last thing he worried about. There are so many things he can do to be intimate with you, it doesn't have to be always about sex. He can touch you, caress you, touch you, cuddle you, and at times, maybe that wouldn't be enough for him but as long as he's with you, it will always be more than enough.

He crawled over your body and hovered above you, pressing his full lips on yours.

"But I still can do this, right?"

You answered by returning the kiss, "have as much as you want."

-

A new home needs some adjustments and Chan is aware that he hasn't adjusted yet.

Sometimes he forgot that he shared a place with you, he was so used to living alone and living in his way. It resulted in a few conflicts, and disputes. The issues varied from financial issues to trivial things such as he forgot to take out the trash.

And this morning, he found you giving him the glare with your hands carrying the basket of laundered clothes.

"Let me guess," Chan grabbed his chin between his fingers, "I forgot to take out the laundry from the dryer again?" He asked with a grimace and a guilty expression on his face.

You nodded with a thin smile.

"I'm sorry," he grumbled, taking the basket from you and carrying it to the bedroom.

"I told you, let me do the laundry for us," you said, taking a piece of clothing from the basket and folding it.

"I'm sure you're already tired from working," Chan said while also folding his clothes on his lap.

"And you don't?" You raised an eyebrow at him with a triumphant smile.

Chan knew you'd just won the argument.

He didn’t think of it when he asked you to move in with him, that you and he would have something to argue about but funny enough, Chan enjoyed it. When he got mischievous, he would bother you until you get so annoyed. 

And sometimes, you make each other mad and he would be the one who makes up with you first because he couldn't stay mad at you for long.

On bad days, the argument heated and things went all over the place, you would be the first one to leave or tell him to leave you alone to avoid saying things you don't mean to say to each other.

But at the end of the day, everything was solved with a deep talk and ended with a kiss.

On the other hand, you like seeing him mad. He looks so hot doing it and you wondered how is that possible.

He would get quiet, jaws all clenched which only accentuates the shapes, and his eyes giving you an intense stare, letting you know he was indeed not satisfied with something.

This was no time to be horny, you bit your lower lip to hold the urge to just throw yourself at him and instead, slowly came up to him.

He sat on the single sofa and played with his phone, you decided to sit on his lap and rested your head on his shoulder.

"Why are you so mad?" 

He didn't answer, his eyes stuck to his phone screen and made his face glow in bluish light.

"He's just a colleague from work, we had a few glasses of wine and he insisted on sharing a cab. That's all!" You explained the whole thing in a soft tone with a hand rubbed down his chest.

He still didn't answer but furiously typed into his phone.

He looked like a sulking little kid and it was adorable to you, you couldn't help but let out a low chuckle.

"Chris?" You called.

He didn't even turn his head at you.

"Baby?" You tried calling with a pet name and still failed.

"My love?" Again, with another pet name he usually called you with.

"Channie?" You rarely called him by that name but at that point, you were willing to try anything.

Chan finally turned his head at you and you held yourself from smiling out of triumphant, batted your eyelashes, and pouted at him instead.

"I'm sorry," you sincerely apologized, then buried your head in his neck.

You put your hands around his neck and hugged him, staying like that until he melted into your embrace, holding you back with a hand rubbing the small of your back.

You looked at him and muttered, "I love you,"

That seemed to dissolve his anger away and his eyes turned tender, "I love you," he said back.

You smiled because it always felt nice to hear it or have him say it back to you, there was nothing that came close to the happiness it brought to you.

You kissed him first and he returned the kiss with the same passion, hungrily even.

You broke the kiss to catch a breath.

"Why are you so jealous? You are hotter than him," you said.

You hastily kissed his lips for a second then brought your mouth close to his ear, "and oh, when you're mad like that," you softly groaned.

"So hot, I think I get a little wet," you intentionally turned your voice low and sultry.

Chan smirked at you with his tongue slightly poking out from the corner of his mouth, "only a little?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Why don't you check yourself?" You dared him.

And you shouldn't dare him in the first place, that earned you a few slaps on your inner thighs as he fucked you relentlessly with your legs wide open for him.

Chan is not the type to hold grudges but when he was given the control, time, and space for it, he will do it.

Your hands locked in his death grip as he pinned them by the wrists on your abdomen.

He thrust into you so hard it reverberated throughout your body and your head hit the headboard each time he rammed himself into you.

"Isn't this what you want, mmh?"

You were a moaning mess and tears squeezed out of your screwed-shut eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations. You were unable to respond to any of his words but kept whimpering in a mix of pleasure and pain under him.

Even when you were cumming, Chan didn't slow down but kept thrusting into you and a loud moan ripped out of you.

He placed his mouth on yours to muffle the noises you made and gently bit on your lower lip, making you yelp in pain.

It was the first time that he gets so rough with you but still was a gentleman about it after.

He endearingly caressed you and touched you with so much love, kissing your face as he repeatedly asked, "are you okay?"

He wiped the tears from your eyes with his knuckle, "are you hurt?"

You shook your head, "I'm alright."

He kissed your lips and your cheek after, "still like it when I'm mad?"

You nodded.

He chuckled and pulled you close, wrapping his hands around you, and planting small kisses that made your heart flutter.

"I'm sorry," you apologized to him.

He smiled at you, "it's just me. I hate seeing you with someone else."

"I told you, you're the most beautiful for me," you assured him.

"Yeah?"

You eagerly nodded.

"And you're the most beautiful to me," he said back as he looked deeply into your eyes.

And you like the way he looks at you like you're his most prized possession like you're the only one existing in his world, like you're wholly, truly his.

It was wrong to think that the makeup sex was the only best part of it.

-

Chan likes how you invaded his life.

Your warm smile replaced the void that usually welcomes him home, your laugh filled the quiet in the room, your scent clung to the bedsheets, and your body became his comfort pillow.

He couldn't look around his place without seeing a trace of you, instead of feeling like he doesn't belong there, he feels quite the opposite.

He feels at home and he believes that's because you're in it.

It was very unusual of him to come home early that day and it was even rare of him for wanting to cook, he planned on greeting you home from work with dinner.

He heard you unlocking the door and he waited for you to notice him standing by the threshold with his arms open.

The surprised look on your face tells it all, you were happy to see him that you immediately crashed yourself at him.

"You're home early!" You exclaimed as you threw your hands around him.

He lifted you off the ground and hugged you tight, "I'm cooking dinner," he told you.

"Really?"

"What's with the surprised tone?" He narrowed his eyes at you.

"Nothing," you answered with a sly smile.

He let the conversation slide and kissed you, a long kiss that makes up for the hours of not seeing you. You let him as you always do, letting him deepen the kiss and have as much taste of you as he wants.

You gasped when he broke the kiss, "go get changed," he said.

He gently squeezed your waist, "I'll prepare dinner."

You nodded and obeyed his words without complaint, went to the bedroom while Chan made his way back to the kitchen.

He stirred the soup he was simmering on the stove and added a few seasonings to perfect its flavor.

What you said to him earlier got into his head that he started to doubt his cooking.

"Babe, can you come here and taste it for me?" He shouted as he kept stirring the bubbling soup.

"Just a minute!" You shouted back from the bedroom.

"It only takes a second," he said back to urge you to come to the kitchen.

"Coming!"

You came behind him and he scooped a spoonful of the broth, he blew on it first before feeding it to you.

"A little bit more pepper will do," you suggested.

Chan sprinkled some into the pot and stirred it, having another taste test with you.

"Good?"

"Perfect!" You replied.

He triumphantly smiled and held your face to kiss your lips, he was expecting to feel any sort of clothing on you but instead of that, his palm met the warmth of your skin.

That was when he realized you came to the kitchen half-naked.

"What are you doing?"

You were covering your breasts with your hand but then you didn't feel the need to since he has seen everything. Also, you didn't want to miss a chance to tease him.

"I was barely dressed when you called me here," you explained.

He gave you the unsatisfied look on his face but it could be two things, mad or aroused, you couldn't tell which but he looks so hot nonetheless.

You took a step back to give him a better view of your body only dressed in white shorts.

"Also, you're not the only one who can walk around the house topless, you know," you said with a playful grin and kept walking backward in the direction of your bedroom.

It's something unexpected like this that keeps things exciting in your relationship and your body will always be enticing to him.

He rested one hand against the kitchen counter and tipped his head to the side, "Oh, is that so?"

You nodded and said, "I can do what I want with my body."

You teased him more by cupping your breasts in your hands.

"They're mine!" He said in the most possessive way.

You shook your head, "no, sir. These are not your property!"

He pointed his spatula at you with a deadly glare on, "pull your pants down!"

"No!" You refused while lingering in the doorway of your bedroom.

"I said pull your pants down!" He ordered once again, louder.

"No!" You answered with a daring smirk and ran into the bedroom without closing the door.

Chan turned off the stove and ran after you, chasing you into the bedroom while you squealed in fear and excitement.

"PULL YOUR PANTS DOWN!!!"

"NO!!!”

-

However, these unexpected things can also come unpleasantly.

Just like that day when you urged him to come home, he could hear that you were in distress and needed him. He couldn't just drop everything and go, but he tried to make it work, put everything on hold and he'll be back to it after.

You were looking rather anxious as you rushed toward him the second he stepped into the apartment.

"Did something happen? Are you hurt?" He asked while rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head.

He sat you down on the sofa and held your hand, you looked wan and shaken, and your eyes usually filled with glints looked empty that night.

He squeezed your hand to let you know that you weren't alone, "I'm here, my love, it's okay," he assured you with a hand cupping your jaw.

You weakly smiled and held his hand back, "I don't know how to explain this but I'm a week late to my period," you began.

Chan already knew where this headed but it would be wise that you and him to be on the same page about this.

"Have you taken a test?" He asked.

"I'm afraid to do it alone," you sounded so small when you spoke.

He could feel that you were severely anxious and he understood why you needed him. He wrapped his arms around you, taking you into his embrace to offer you the comfort and safety that you needed.

"I'm here and I'll always be here for you. I'll take responsibility for whatever going to come," he murmured to the top of your head.

"I love you," he kissed you on the forehead.

He waited by sitting on the bed as you took the pregnancy test in the bathroom, he got nervous as well. He tried not to think further ahead, he wanted to focus on being present for you.

A few minutes later, you got out of the bathroom and he got up to walk up to you. You hugged him and rested your head against his chest.

"I was so scared," you mumbled with a long sigh of relief.

Chan took it that the result is negative, and he felt a little sad about it then again, he can't be selfish about this.

"I know, baby," he said and kissed the side of your face.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, "I'm not ready yet, Chris," your voice broke at the end of the sentence.

He tightened the hold around you and stayed like that for a long time, just holding you with so much love.

"I feel bad because I know you want this," you spoke into his chest, right to his heart.

"No, no, no..." he whispered to you, "you give me more than what I asked of you."

He then held your face with both hands and tenderly kissed your lips, "and I know I'm irresistible but I think we should be careful from now on," he said with a playful smile.

You softly chuckled and kissed him back, "okay."

Chan took it as his job to always remind you on taking your birth control every day. He would send a text at one point in the day to make sure you did.

"Did you take your birth control today, babe?"

"Take your pill today, beautiful!"

"Don't forget to take your pill, my star shine."

Along with other questions on whether you have taken your meals or not. He knows he has to take part in it too by resisting a little whenever the urge came up.

It was easy to say but seeing your body and not touching it was a different thing.

Especially when he came home after a long day and saw you still awake in bed, looking so effortlessly beautiful barefaced with his t-shirt on while sitting against the headboard.

A piece of classical music was playing from your phone and that was why you didn't hear him coming into the room.

"Hey, beautiful girl," he greeted as he put his backpack down on the table.

You glanced up from your book to find him standing at the end of the bed, "hey, my beautiful boyfriend!"

You immediately put your book away as he got on the bed and crawled to you, "let me guess... Chopin?"

"Nope," You put your hands around his neck.

"It's Valse Sentimentale by Tchaikovsky."

Chan leaned in close and grazed the tip of your nose with his, "did you just speak French?"

"Yes, I did."

"Hot!" He murmured and kissed your lips.

It was one of those nights he feels needy for you, he wanted to selfishly make love and be one with you. He kissed you so hard to let you know how much he wanted this.

"Did you take your birth control today?" He asked when he let go of the kiss.

"Yes," you answered.

"Good girl!" He praised you and placed his plump lips on your neck.

He dragged his mouth close to your ear next then softly whispered, "I want to cum inside you tonight."

You turned your head to look at him and he believed you already sensed how much he needed this but first, he needed to know if you consented to this.

"Okay," you said with a smile.

He gave you a long peck on the lips, "I'll go shower first," he said.

When he returned to the bedroom, the lights were dimmed and soft music playing from the portable speaker.

The sight of you bending over the bedside table to light a scented candle welcomed him.

You already changed into a revealing night dress that he could see your naked body through the flimsy fabric and it was safe to say you weren't wearing anything underneath.

The towel hanging low around his hips wasn't enough to cover his hardening cock.

You turned around to find him ogling over you and you walked up to him, trailing his glistening wet body with your hand.

You didn't hesitate to place your mouth on his neck and tasted his freshly showered body, "mmh..." you delightfully hummed.

"You smell so good," you spoke so low it was almost like a whisper.

Your hands slid down his sides until you met his towel, "we don't need this," you said, proceeding to take it off of him.

It has always been him who takes control but that night he wanted you to have control, he wanted to be taken care of by you.

He obeyed when you told him to get on the bed and lay face down, he didn't ask any questions when you lather your hands with fragrant oil and started to massage him.

"You're so tense," you said as you knead on the tensed part of his back.

Chan couldn't say much when you gave him just what he needed.

"Turn over, love," you sweetly ordered.

He complied and lay on his back, seeing you smiling at him as he rested his head on the pillow.

"That was so good," he commented and pulled you by your neck to kiss you.

You smiled against his lips as your hand started to roam around, feeling his taut muscles under your fingertips. You placed a hand on his chest to stop him from getting on top of you.

"Let me take care of you tonight," you muttered.

How could he say no when that was what he wanted and you were giving it to him with a soft smile on your face?

You began by kissing him then made a long trail of kisses from his face down to his chest, stopping by to give a soft lick on each nipple.

The hair brushed his body as you continued your trail of kisses down his body tickling him and at the same time, inexplicably arousing him.

When your hand finally met his swollen cock, he let out a low gasp from his parted mouth. He closed his eyes to feel your soft hands pumping his length, doing it so carefully to give him the utmost pleasure.

You gathered all of your hair to one side of your shoulder and kneeled next to him as you took him into your mouth, little by little.

You paused a few times to catch your breath and kept doing it until you took all of him inside you.

The night dress you were wearing rode up as you bent down over his crotch, exposing your sex to him.

He used the opportunity to knead on your ass cheeks and eventually, teased on your wet core with his fingers.

He could feel the noise you made, vibrating against his cock and it drove him to the edge.

After a moment, you let go of him with a loud popping sound. You lifted the hem of your night dress as you positioned yourself on top of him, kept holding the dress lifted with one hand while the other aligned his cock to your entrance.

He watched as your face reacted to his cock slowly entering you as you kept easing yourself down on him, you took him well every time.

You let out a low giggle once you took all of him, "so good, so good inside me," you murmured with your eyes closed.

Knowing that you enjoy pleasing him only aroused him more that he wanted to pin you on the bed and fuck you all night. But that wasn't the plan that night, he would let you please him your way.

You rested both of your hands on his chest and looked into his eyes, "Ain't I a good girl? I take you well every single time," you lowly said.

He brushed your hair to the side and held it there, "such a good girl for me," he praised.

You smiled in pride and started to roll your hips in circular motions as low moans escaped your slightly parted mouth.

You set a steady pace as you moved back and forth against him while Chan was drowning in the pleasure you brought him.

The thin strap of your night dress slid down your arm, sending your breast spilling out of it. You shot a look at him and asked, "want to take care of it?"

He was more than willing to do it for you. He got up while you settled yourself on his lap without pulling out.

Chan licked his lips before taking your breast in his mouth, sucking on the flesh. You suppressed your painful yelps as his teeth nibbled on your nipples and did the same with your other breast.

He got impatient and took the nightdress off of you in a blink of an eye and he didn't wait to bury his head in between your breasts as you kept moving on him.

You slipped your hand into his soft curls and held him close, "Chris..." you softly called his name.

He looked up at you with his head still between your mounds.

"Someday you'll breed me, yeah?"

He sank his mouth on your neck as you kept talking to him, "I believe it would easy for you, mmh?"

That, he believed is true, getting you pregnant would be a pleasure to him therefore it would be an easy task for him.

He hastily kissed you on the lips and filled his hand with your breast, "I want to see these full of milk," he said against your lips.

His hand moved to your stomach and rubbed it endearingly, "I want to see you with a baby bump," he added.

You seemed to like the ideas too from the way you clenched around him. He knew you wanted this too but you need more time for that.

You briefly kissed his lips, "someday, baby, someday," you promised him.

Someday might be a few months later or takes years, however, he liked the sound of that. Someday sounded possible, full of hope.

You looped your hands around his neck and picked up the pace, "for now, fill me up," you told him.

"Fill me up with your seed!"

Your eyes fiercely stared into his black orbs as he stared back at you with eyes heavy with lust, "will you do that for me?"

"Yeah, yeah," he repeatedly answered with ragged breathing.

"Will you cum for me?"

"Yes."

You pressed a hard kiss on his lips, "you're close, mmh?"

"So close," he shortly replied.

You kept moving at a steady pace, sending him to the edge where he could plunge into the high that would take him soaring to cloud nine.

The words you kept muttering to him gave him the push he needed.

"Cum for me, baby!"

"Chris, oh!"

"Fill me! Cum inside me!"

An ecstasy-like feeling surged through his body as he reached his high, he pushed his cock further into you to plant his seed deep inside you.

He continuously grunted as you cooed at him, "yeah, baby, I can feel it inside me."

Chan kept grunting while you started to hold him and slowly took him down from his high by kissing him, placing touches on his body to keep him in intimacy.

"Look at you, letting me take care of you," you cooed with a sweet smile as if you didn't just fuck him real good.

He couldn't contain his feelings in a moment like this he felt like he could move a mountain for you if you asked him to, "I love you so much, you know that?"

You kissed the palm cupping your jaw, "I know, Chris."

He held you tight and stayed like that for as long as he could, bonding through touches and bodies becoming one with you.

He turned over to lay you down on the bed to let you rest and slowly, he pulled out of you. Some of his white seed leaked out of you and kept dripping, seeping into the bedsheets.

"You came so much," you said with a sly smile.

He would be lying if this didn't get his cock hardening despite he just cummed a few minutes ago.

"Maybe you should refill it," you said as if his mind was see-through and you saw that he was thinking it.

Most of the time, unexpected things came as temptations he can't resist.

-

How do you even begin to describe what Chan means to you?

He's your home and you like living under his roof, one that protects you from the blazing sun and keeps you warm on winter days.

As time passed, a home went through so many things, storms, rains, and summer heat. Then a house would need a few fixings and you fixed what you could.

In the home you built together, you started to see a crack in the foundation, a small one that you could only see through a magnifying glass, small but it bothers you so much.

With a little understanding, you got it that not all of us can be perfect human beings. We all have flaws that we try to hide, so you put a rug to cover the crack so no one couldn't see it.

"You came home late lately," you hated to sound so demanding to him but he had been absent from most of your days that you started to feel things aren't right anymore.

"I'm sorry, I'm busy," he came with the same answer to every question you asked him: Why he's late to your anniversary dinner? Why he forgot to buy you the cheese you need for the pasta you cook? Why did he keep forgetting to do the favor you asked him? Why why why?

Way before you decided to start this relationship and moved in with him, you knew that he would always be busy with his work. You understood and accepted it, but what you didn't know is that he would keep everything to himself.

His kisses are lovely, his hugs are warm, his touches comfort you, he cares for you, he worries you, and he lays next to you every night yet he wouldn't share what keeps him up all night.

"Why are you still awake?" You asked, placing your head on his chest.

"I have a lot on my mind right now," he replied with his hand brushing your hair.

"Want to share with me?" You knew you can't force him to talk if he didn't want to.

"It's something you shouldn't worry about," he said.

You tried to be an understanding partner to him so you didn't push him further and thought that you've tried your best, you did enough by it.

"I'll be the big spoon tonight," you said.

"Huh?"

You turned his body to the side and put your arms and legs around him, spooning him from behind.

"You're so big, baby," you groaned as you struggled to wrap him in your arms, "I can't hold you."

Chan chuckled in response and helped you to put your hands on his chest instead, then he put his hand on top.

"This is nice," he softly hummed as his body relaxed against you.

You nuzzled your nose into his hair and drank his scent, "my big baby," you cooed.

He turned his head to capture your lips in a kiss, "I love you," he sweetly murmured against your lips and his love confession still sounded as sweet.

Somehow, even if you have covered the crack with the prettiest rug, it bothered you still.

-

Chopin's Prelude in E Minor was playing from the neighbor's balcony. Which is a very fitting piano piece that sounded just as hopeless as you were. The end of the piece is particularly sad as the melody seems to just fade away into nothingness.

Chan came home late again that night.

You heard his footsteps outside the bedroom, probably having a drink in the living room like he always does lately. You got up from bed and decided to come to join him, who knows that he might like the company?

"Channie is home!" You surprised him with a smile.

He smiled seeing you, holding out his hand for you to take, and sat you on his lap, "why are you still up?"

You curled up on his lap, resting your head on the crook of his neck, "come to bed," you mumbled.

He rubbed your bare back with his knuckle and glided his hand down to the curve of your ass, gently squeezing the flesh there.

"Chris..." Your voice echoed as you called his name.

"Yes?"

You put your chin on his shoulder to look at him, "you know you can tell me anything," you assured him that you are more than eager to listen to whatever he wants to share with you.

He let out a deep sigh and stared at the ceiling, resting his head against the headrest of the sofa, "I'm just tired..."

You looked at him and he looked rather exhausted, you didn't want to pick a fight when he was like this but unfortunately, you got to the point that you couldn't let this go on anymore.

You got off his lap and sat next to him, "What's going on with us?"

The question seemed to wake him up and he sat up straighter to face you, "I know I haven't been here much and I'm sorry, it's just me," he apologized but was overly vague about the reasons why.

"What is it?"

"It's just..." he deeply sighed again and let out a long breath, "I'm just so tired with work and everything."

Again, it was very vague and didn't answer your question.

"Is there anything else, though?" You tried again, speaking calmly to him to not make him feel pressured.

"No, just that," he shortly replied.

Your heart sank, you were disappointed with the answer he gave you and all these things you kept to yourself started to burst out of you.

"I don't understand why you're doing this. I don't understand what this is ab—" you stopped yourself from talking.

A lump was forming in your throat and it grew bigger as you thought of ways to tell him how you've been feeling about all this.

He got defensive all of a sudden so he grabbed your hand and made you turn to look at him, "what are you saying?"

"I'm starting to think that I'm crazy..." you kept swallowing the tears rising inside you.

"You're saying everything is fine but all I'm getting from you is distance and anger," you got choked on your words and took a deep breath to calm yourself.

"I'm not—" Chan pinched the bridge of his nose, he was probably trying to not snap right then and there.

"Where is this coming from?"

You looked at him even though you knew he could see your glossy eyes, "you keep me guessing everything so I started overthinking things and doubting myself..."

Tears rolled down your cheeks, "you make me turn into someone that I'm not."

He held both of your hands on your lap so tight his knuckles turned white, "I never asked you to be anything—"

You hated how he made you a very demanding person that asks anything from him when all you wanted is to be someone he can rely on. You tried so hard to provide a safe space for him but it seemed like it was never enough for him.

You let go of his hands and got up from the sofa, "I don't want to talk," you said, ending the conversation early before any of you said things you don't mean to.

It came as surprise to him as well that he stayed quiet and stunned by what just happened. You didn't wait for him to stop you, you got in bed and started crying.

Frustrated over how things turned out, it was alright a few minutes ago but it was the calm before the storm.

You could only wait and see if the house still stands strong in the morning.

-

The house survived.

But the crack in the foundation grew bigger and the rug could only cover as much.

You were packing things when Chan came home, you didn't know for what because it was past dinner time and he didn't say he will come home early.

You haven't talked since last night but he kissed you before he left this morning.

You turned around to see him walking into the bedroom and he saw the suitcase, "are you leaving?"

It was heartbreaking to hear that, he thought you'll be leaving because of the argument you had.

"The director wants me to bid for a painting," you quickly explained before he got the wrong idea.

He sat at the end of the bed, "For how long?" 

"3 days," you replied.

"When will you be leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

There was a silent hang in the air after and it was suffocating, how the two of you have so much to say but at the same time, none of you wanted to risk the relationship.

"Want to talk about last night?" He asked.

But you weren't ready for that, you weren't sure how you feel about it yet but ultimately, you wanted to talk about it when you're prepared with whatever you get at the end of it. Good or bad, you weren't ready for it.

You sat next to him on the bed but avoided looking at him, you stared at your feet instead, "I don't like who I am right now," you told him.

"I need time to think," you added.

Chan nodded in agreement, that it was best for the two of you to take time for yourself to think things through and the work trip just happened to come at the right time.

"Let's do that, yeah," he said with a defeated sigh.

When it was time to go, you dragged your suitcase in the direction of the door and Chan followed you from behind.

He looked miserable in a way that reminded you of that day when you left him to go back to your home country.

It was painful but it was the right thing to do, you both needed the space to grow, reflect on yourselves and find a way to overcome this.

He went to hug you and you hugged him back, exchanging the warmth that you both need in a time like this.

He went to kiss you after with both hands holding your face as if you were a fragile object.

"I love you," he muttered as if he put the essence of him in it and gave it to you to keep.

"Come back safely," he said as he let go of the hug but kept holding your hand in his.

And when you left, you took a piece of him with you and he hoped for you to return it because a home is not a home if no soul is living in it.

-

It was the distance that separated you once and it happened again for the second time.

But this time, he got separated by the distance he created himself.

Firstly, he didn't mean to do that to you. He was used to keeping things to himself and he wasn't aware that what he did drives you further away.

He understood why you felt that way, if only he told you everything, you wouldn't keep guessing what he keep inside him.

Secondly, he didn't want to burden you with this. He's willing to go through the pain for both of you.

When he thought about it again, he knew it was wrong to keep you in the dark and made you keep guessing your way in. He was wrong to do that when all you've been doing was being open to him, you even let yourself be vulnerable around him because you trust him, trust that he would never hurt you.

Trust is hard to earn yet you gave it to him anyway, and he didn't do the same to you.

That was the part he did wrong. He had been taking you for granted.

And these past two days without you only bringing back those excruciating days of being so far away from you.

The empty bed, the quiet space, the stillness that lingered in his apartment felt like a void without you.

He longed for you.

Even when he was home, he felt homesick because his true home is you.

He went home knowing that you'd be already home and probably asleep in the room, tired from the trip.

When he sat on the bed next to your sleeping figure, God... He was beyond grateful that you came back to him.

He touched you there to feel your heart beating under his palm and accidentally woke you up.

You sleepily smiled at the sight of him.

"You're home," you croaked.

"I am home," he answered without a beat.

He caressed your face and looked at your face, pouring all of his admiration through his tender gaze.

He didn't want to hide from you anymore, he wanted you to have all of him, wholly and completely.

"Can we talk?"

You rubbed his forearm, "okay."

Chan brought you a glass of water while you waited on the sofa, he insisted on doing it for you when you could do it yourself.

"Thank you," you muttered and took a little sip of water.

Chan didn't sit next to you but kneeled in front of you and took both of your hands with his head tilted up to look at you.

"I am so sorry," he began.

He rubbed your fingers as he spoke, "I didn't know what I did would hurt you this much."

He licked his lips to continue talking, "I do that. I'd be upset about something and not be able to say it. When someone senses there's something wrong, I'd deny it."

He sighed in regret, "it's a bad habit of mine."

You looked into his eyes and turned his hands on your lap, letting you hold them for him.

"I don't want to do that anymore," he stated and it's a decision he must take to save the relationship.

"And I want to tell you everything."

He needs to start to learn to share his burden because a relationship goes both ways.

You smiled at him and opened your mouth to speak, "these past few nights that I spent by myself made me think a lot."

You interlaced your fingers with his and continued speaking, "how you've been treating me and I thought... why do I love you?"

Chan felt breathless as if someone emptied the air in his lungs, anticipating what you'll say to him next.

"There are no logical reasons for that question because I don't need one."

You took a breath and cupped his face in your hand, "but I trust myself. I trust my feelings. That my love for you is real."

Chan finally let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, knowing that you still love him means a lot to him.

But still, he needed to hear the rest from you.

"I'm not going to try to be anything other than who I am anymore and I hope you can accept that."

"I can. I will," he repeatedly nodded to convince you.

He brought your hand close to his mouth and placed a long kiss on the back of your hand.

"You know, I can feel the fear that you carry around and I wish there was something I could do to help you let go of it," you said with your hand going in his hair and softly scratching the back of his head.

He shifted his attention back at you, eyes never straying away from yours even just for one second.

"Because if you could, I don't think you'd feel so alone anymore," you finished with a soft smile.

Your hand went in his hair and softly scratched the back of his head.

The moment that being said, Chan felt like he was the luckiest man in the world to have you. You are so many things to him and he's glad to find that in someone, in you.

"Gosh, you're beautiful!" He muttered heartfelt praise at you.

"Thank you," you muttered back in gratitude and a sweet smile.

"Can I kiss you now?" His eyes filled with hopeful glints.

You chuckled at him and gave his hair a ruffle, "since when did you ask for permission first?"

You held his face in your hands and softly landed your lips on his, giving him the kiss that he badly craved.

A kiss that rejuvenated his soul and gave him a will to go on, a kiss that sets everything back to square one and starts anew.

You both smiled at each other as the kiss ended.

Chan then rested his head on your lap and let you play with his hair, tangling his soft curls around your fingers.

"Can I be the little spoon tonight?" He asked.

"Absolutely!"

He grinned like a little kid and without warning scooped you up from the sofa, carrying you to the bedroom.

You giggled into his neck as he sneaked a kiss on your temple.

"You're too big," you groaned as Chan pulled your arms and wrapped them around him, struggling to make your hands meet. He took your leg next and put it over his waist, he wanted to be cocooned in your warmth.

"This is perfect!" He sighed the moment he successfully put your hand on his chest and put his hand on top.

His other hand went to caress your thigh and doing it so tenderly as if he was caressing a sleeping kitten.

"This isn't Chris," You playfully remarked with your head resting so close to his.

Chan was enjoying the comfort of your cuddle to provide a verbal answer, he responded with a hum and little noises.

"This is Channie," you added.

"Mmh," he cutely responded with a tiny nod.

You lowly chuckled into his ear, "Baby Channie!"

If he heard that from someone else, he wouldn't fancy it as much when it was you who called him by it. He turned his head to look at you and kissed you.

"My big baby," you cooed at him with a quick peck on the lips.

It felt good to be in someone's embrace and not think that he was weak for doing that.

All this time, he always thought that he needs to be the one in control and be the one who takes responsibility for everything, be the bigger person, strong, brave.

As he stayed there feeling small in your embrace, he knew for certain that you were stronger, braver, and bigger than he thought. You had been through so much in this relationship yet you were still here for him.

This home that you built together is only as strong as your relationship and the two of you make great, sturdy pillars.

-

The sun was out but that wasn't the only thing that woke you up.

Chan's fingertips trailed down your spine and you gasped as you felt his warm lips on the nape of your neck. He noticed that you were awake, proceeded to kiss your cheek, and brought his mouth close to whisper in your ear, "Is it too late to have the makeup sex now?"

You silently smiled and squinted through your eyes to see the time, you have to go to work in under two hours. You calculated it in your head if you have time for what he wants.

"No," you answered and spun your head to meet his gaze.

"But I don't think we have enough time for that," you added with a pout.

His hand got ahead of the conversation and started to cup your sex, "we'll make it alright," he assured you.

"You think so?" You slurred.

He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, "mmh."

Chan was undeniably gorgeous with the pale sunlight shining down on him, making his sculpted abs appear more defined and his pale skin glowed.

Not to mention, he was thrusting into you slowly and each thrust went deeper than the previous.

It was never just sex with him when he put all of him whenever he did it. He didn't need to say anything, his body tells it all.

His hand firmly holding you yet he tenderly touched you in the right places. His intense stare told how much he desired you yet his eyes filled with admiration for you. His passionate and deep kisses told how much he wanted you yet his lips never ran out of sweet praises to mutter to you. His strong body held you without feeling like he was holding you back.

As he was making love to you, he made you feel like you're the only one he's giving all of his body and soul to.

When he cum inside you, he did it as a way to claim you.

"Take all of me," he murmured.

He hastily kissed you while he pushed his cock further inside you as he was still cumming, "take all of me, baby," he repeated.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and kept him close all the while you were feeling his cock twitching, engorging inside of you.

"You're mine," he breathlessly said against your lips.

"I'm yours," you said back.

"I love you."

"I love you."

Chan didn't let you go because what's more important to him is not the sex but the cuddles after. This is what took most of the time you had left to get ready for work.

"Stay," he said as he pressed a kiss on your lips with his arms caged you in between.

"I can provide for us," he casually said.

You smiled against his lips and gently pushed him away, "why don't you stay?" You aimed the question back at him.

Your hands cupped his face, "I can also provide for us," you added with a sly smirk.

Chan got quiet for a moment and nodded in acknowledgment, "okay, that's fair," he said in defeat.

When you returned from the bathroom still in your bathrobe with your hair already styled and your make-up done, you found Chan already picked your outfit for you.

He spread it on top of the bed, shirt, skirt even the matching underwear he wanted you to wear that day.

"Breakfast will be ready in a minute!" He announced as he saw you come to the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

You went to give him a quick back hug but that wasn't enough for him, he turned around to give you a proper hug and a kiss.

A hand slipped under your skirt to knead on the ample flesh of your ass, "have you taken your pill?"

You nodded, "last night."

He kissed your cheek, "good because I want to cum inside you again tonight," he said.

You burst out laughing and exclaimed, "Chris!"

"What?"

"The day has just started," you stated an obvious fact and that you just had sex barely an hour ago. You couldn't lie though, the way he shamelessly and openly let you know how much he wanted you made you tingling inside.

He slyly grinned at your words, "I picked that underwear for you so I can take it off of you later," he said.

The fresh coat of lipstick you applied after breakfast went to waste because Chan wouldn't stop kissing you.

"We'll be late," you reminded him yet didn't stop him from placing another kiss.

"Just one more," he pleaded and gave you a long, lingering kiss that takes your breath away.

You didn't need to check yourself in the mirror to know that the lipstick faded on your lips. You quickly wiped it off of him, not letting him out of the door with your lipstick smeared all over his lips.

You both walk hand-in-hand to the elevator and waited for it to arrive.

"I'll be home for dinner tonight," he said to you at the same time the elevator chimed open.

"I'll order dinner," you said.

"Sounds great!"

He tightened his hold on your hand when someone else got into the elevator and pulled you to be as close as possible to him.

"Keep your eyes on me," he whispered to you.

You chuckled at his silly warning and decided to prove your loyalty to him by scooting closer to his side and then linking your arm with him.

You watched as his grin grew wider on his face like a kid who got his candy.

-

This is Chan's least favorite part of the day.

After the elevator arrived in the lobby, you had to part ways because you'll be taking a taxi to work while Chan headed to the gym nearby by walking.

It was like the hours he spent with you weren't enough for him and will never be. He wanted to stick with you all day if he could.

Wasn't it clear that he was so in love with you?

He got so weary every time he has to let you out to the world, knowing what it can do to a beautiful thing like you.

He grabbed your hand to stop and softly kissed you on the cheek, "be careful!"

"I will," you replied with a smile.

But of course, you could easily sense his worry but knows how to put him at ease, "I'll call you when I get there."

Trust. He trusts you, therefore he has nothing to be worried about. Slowly, he let go of your hand and set you free but kept you closer to his heart.

"I'll see you at home," you said with one final kiss on his lips even though you are the one who made a home for him.

Chan smiled for he was thankful for you and the stars that aligned his path with yours, destined him to meet you in this lifetime.

"I'll see you at home!" He muttered back as he knew he couldn't find a place like this again: a home in a person.

As he watched you leave and walked further away from him, Chan felt homesick already.

-

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[cheezbites]

Doing Chris McLean’s Makeup

✎:My first blog on Tumblr <3

♡Summary: You do Chris McLean’s makeup before the first episode for a new season of Total Drama Island. (Boyfriend!Chris x F!Reader)

✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Chris McLean has always observed your patience and dedication toward glamorizing yourself. But what can he say? You take your role as the hostess of Total Drama Island seriously.

Before every episode airs, you’d routinely get up a couple of hours prior to it even shooting just so you could do your make up, wanting to look as flawless as possible.

Afterwards, you’d look gorgeous and on point. And you’d constantly find him lustfully staring, even at places he shouldn’t be.

You couldn’t really blame him, though - the outfits you’d wear would be an irresistible mix of both worlds: sexy whilst keeping it classy.

And often he would insist on hiring a makeup crew to get the job done faster, you’d always reject his offers: “Y/N, I don’t think you understand how vast the budget is. Let’s just hire one. I wouldn’t want for you to wake up way earlier than everyone else just to-“

You placed the tip of your applicator brush upon his lips to stop him from trying to convince you any further.

“Babe… You know I got this.” You contended softly, before continuing to apply your Dior Blush and completing your look of the day.

“If you insist.”

And suddenly, an idea sprung to your head.

“Wait - how much time do we have left?”

He checked his golden watch, which complemented his slick black suit and emanated the pleasant aroma of his signature cologne.

“About 1-2 hours, plenty of time.”

“I have an idea - c’mere for a sec, babe.” you professed with a grin, motioning towards the chair beside you. It was placed right in front of the sophisticated makeup station: a vanity adorned with LED lights, an abundance of brushes and products, and countless other essentials.

Obediently, Chris complied with your request, waiting to hear what you have to say.

You playfully cupped your head in your hand, slightly cocking your head to the side.

“You have a really nice face … y’know?” You briefly cradled his face in your other hand, admiring his alluring features.

Chris adored it when you gave him unexpected compliments out of nowhere, they’d never fail to drastically boost his mood. Funny thing is, he thinks you don’t notice how bricked he gets over them.

“Oh darling… you know you don’t mean that,”

he nervously replied, his apprehension slurring his speech and his face marginally turning red.

But you knew him too well, how if anyone else were to say that to him he’d lash out a sarcastic know-it-all “I know I look good.” and beam a cocky grin.

But since you’re his darling, it’s a completely different scenario.

“Wanna hear my big idea?”

“Go ahead” he responded, being all ears.

“Okay, how much do you love me on a scale of one to ten?”

“Ten isn’t a big enough number for a real answer.”

Just what you wanted to hear.

“…Have you ever tried on makeup?”

“I see where this is going now.” he chuckled dryly, Chris also knew you too well.

Whenever you wanted a favor or needed to ask him something, you would always wait a while before bringing it up. This time, he mentally noted that you playfully employed the compliment manoeuvre.

“Lemme put some on you. Come on, please mi amor?” You pleaded, teasingly stretching out the ‘please’ to pull at his heart strings. He released a defeated sigh, giving in to your little scheme,

“Fine, go ahead.”

“You’re the best babe.” You lightly pecked his cheek before excitedly reaching for your makeup bag, rummaging through it’s contents.

“Hmm… let’s start with a bit of mascara.”

You placed your chair closer to him, and started lightly applying the product.

“This will come off before we start to air, right?” he reluctantly asked.

“Of course, it’s not a tattoo or anything.” you replied jokingly making his body tense up a little less.

“Your lashes are already so long … I’m starting to feel a bit jealous.” You finished off doing his mascara and he took a quick glance in the mirror and didn’t seem too fond of it at first.

“The application is a bit messy…” This was another one of your plans to see just how much of a tease you could be, as you got a thrill out of it.

You got up from your seat and sat on his lap facing him, you felt his heart rate and body temperature steadily increase.

“There we go,” You said, reaching for a foundation and an applicator brush.

You lightly blended it into his skin, and inspected your work afterwards.

“Oh wow,”

“What? Better not be ruining my gorgeous face.”

“Definitely not, wouldn’t want to do that to mi amor.”

“Ooh - what about some … lipstick.” You mumbled as you applied it onto his lips.

Acting as if you’re trying to readjust yourself on his lap, you bounced up and moved yourself closer to him.

As a result of your actions, you felt something gradually harden beneath you.

“What? I can’t help it.” he smirked.

“You know, I’d really hate to have wasted all this lipstick… so it looks like we’re going to have to share it.” You quipped, leaning in for a long sultry kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

As you kissed, his hand trailed down to your thigh, sliding it up your tight dress. The other hand grabbing your boob.

Suddenly, you pulled away from the kiss, examining his watch and your heart sank.

“Shit! - We’ve got ten minutes… stay put.”

Reaching into one of the drawers, you hurriedly grabbed for some baby wipes and gently cleansed his face. In the nick of time, one of the camera crew members informed you guys we’re just about to air this season’s episode.

You both promptly scrambled to your positions, making fixes to your outfit and moving some of your hair to the side - and the camera started rolling.

“Welcome to a new season of…”

“…Total Drama Island!”

Masterlist

[perplexedflower]

Night Thoughts

Fandom: Resident Evil.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Chris Redfield x Female Reader.

Type: Mini one shot.

Words: 979.

Summary: A tranquil, lonely night is all [Y/N] needs to arrange her thoughts, until Chris tells her the words she needed to hear all along.

Chronology: Post-Resident Evil 8.

~~~~~~~~~~

"May I come in?"

A reassuring, although slightly concerned voice was heard from inside the apartment.

"Or should I say 'come out'..." He whispered under his breath, asking himself a genuine question.

Instead of answering with words, I let out a faint sound; even though I had kept quiet, Chris knew me well enough to recognize the noise I had made as one of consent. The sound of the sliding door opening and closing joined the outdoor noise surrounding me, although the night was mostly quiet. Chris slowly walked toward me and sat beside me on the couch on which I was seated, without saying a single word. I did not really focus on him, still lost in thoughts, sitting there in silence and staring blankly at the sky: but the sudden sight of his hands appeared in the corner of my eyes, and I turned to him. Chris was holding a cup of hot chocolate in one hand, and one of coffee in the other.

He made me hot chocolate because he knows I love it and that it always helps me cheer up... How sweet.

I grabbed the mug and it warmed my hands instantly; as he set his own mug on the table in front of us, Chris sat more comfortably on the couch.

"So, what's wrong?"

"How do you know something's wrong?" I replied as I took small sips.

"Well, I'd say I started understanding something was troubling you when you told me you didn't want to spend the night at HQ but at the apartment instead."

I looked down at my cup and fell into thoughts once more; despite having the HQ of the BSAA at our disposal whenever we needed it, Chris and I had always appreciated having our own personal space. And since we were partners, we thought it would only be natural for us to rent an apartment to the side, and live as roommates. That one night I had decided to go find solitude on our apartment's large balcony; with its plants, table, and couch, it was always the one place that brought me comfort.

"Besides, I know you." Chris suddenly added. "I know when something's up."

I could see him smile from the corner of my eye: he was trying to cheer me up, but it was to no avail. His expression gently shifted and he put a caring hand on my arm, which made me look at him.

"Talk to me, [Y/N]. You can tell me what the matter is."

I stared into his eyes and sighed in somewhat of a sad tone. Still holding my mug in both hands, I looked back at the sky and horizon below us.

"Do you ever feel like... you don't know why you're here? That your life is a mess, and that all you want is for it to have somewhat of a sense?"

As I finished talking, I took a sip from my mug, expecting silence; but instead, Chris replied immediately.

"All the time, for both of these questions."

I turned back to him and saw his face bearing an expression not as sad as I had imagined.

"I've struggled to find meaning in my life countless times in the past." He started, leaving his eyes to wander. "And I've gone through so much that it's nearly impossible for me to really describe my life."

I took all of this in and looked down once more, finding his experience to be sadly relatable.

"But I do know why I'm here, now." He added. "I've thought about it before, and I've decided to put some of my past behind me."

Pulling me out of my thoughts, I looked at him while drinking one last sip from my mug.

"What's in the past stays in the past. You're the one deciding when your life starts and when it ends. And it's never too late to... start anew, in a way."

Chris' cheeks promptly reddened as he diverted his eyes from mine.

"Ever since I've started partnering up with you, I've refound motivation I had lost for my job. You make it all worth it."

I felt taken aback and did not know what to say. Looking at my empty cup, I put it on the table next to his.

"Chris..."

"So, yeah, I used to ask myself these questions a lot." He continued, still blushing. "But I don't anymore."

His blue eyes met with mine and my breath sharpened: it felt to me like he was moving closer to me, but I was too emotionally compromised to truly be sure of it.

"I mean all of this, [Y/N], I really do."

The sincerity transpiring through his voice was enough to convince me of his honesty.

"I believe you, Chris..."

I felt my murmured words bouncing off his skin and onto mine and noticed his face was indeed closer to mine; so close that our lips met. With warmth and love, his mouth embraced mine, and so did his body. We both lay down on the couch as we cuddled while kissing. His kiss felt so soft and the setting was so romantic that it almost felt too good to be true: but I knew it was real when Chris pulled away and gave me a passionate smile.

"Your lips taste of chocolate." He whispered affectionately.

"Well, you're one to talk, you made yourself coffee but didn't even drink it." I teased him back.

He chuckled softly before kissing my lips once more. I saw a spark in his eyes as he pulled me up against him, still smiling.

"C'mon, let's get ourselves inside, we'll be warmer."

[nerdraging4point0]

Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Twelve // PolyAU

Tropes and Tags: why choose romance, MF, MFM, MFMM, MM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only minors DNI. PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Note: Thank you to @ladyveronikawrites for helping with this piece since I was so desperately stuck.

Taglist (see MP to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @synthetic-wasp-570 @beaker1636 @thesazzb @itsjustemily @vinyardmauro @circle-with-me @tearfallpixie @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @letmeadoreyoux @latenightmusiclover @transparentwitchnightmare @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @emofangirl02 @rumoured-whispers @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @dominuslunae @sunsshinesunny @jilliemiw86 @h0rr0rqu3en @yournecessaryevil @bloody-delusion-expert @mortallyuniquepeach @missduffsblog

Ricks POV

As I push open the heavy wooden door and step into the bustling coffee shop, I can't help but feel a twinge of frustration with myself for coming here so late. It's not that it's an unreasonable hour - the clock on the wall reads just past 10 AM - but I know from experience that this is the time when the crowds really start to gather, and the small talk with unfamiliar tourists and locals becomes almost inescapable. I'm not the most socially adept person to begin with, and the prospect of being drawn into idle chatter with strangers, especially those who may be passing through town, is enough to make my skin crawl. 

Still, I trudge up to the counter and place my order for a simple black coffee, my eyes scanning the array of sweeteners, creamers, and other garnishes that so many people feel compelled to add to their drinks. As I wait for my order, I can't help but silently judge those around me who are meticulously constructing their overly-embellished beverages, wondering if they even truly appreciate the pure, unadulterated flavor of the coffee itself. Just as I'm about to retreat to a quiet corner with my cup, a voice suddenly chimes in from behind me.

“Rick?”

My heart flutters a little as I turn to see Eve standing there, her hair pulled back into a sleek, classy ponytail with more volume than usual - likely the result of some expertly-applied hair extensions. Her outfit was equally polished, a soft pair of leggings paired with her best boots, a cozy sweater, and what I assumed was a fresh manicure.

It had only been a month since Eve had moved east, and despite my  best efforts to keep my distance, there was an undeniable pull between us. The memory of seeing her naked, being fucked by not one, but two boyfriends, still seared in my mind. It was a hard pill to swallow, the realization that she was involved with not just one, but two other men. Part of me had even entertained the vile thought that if she could handle two, perhaps there was room for one more. But I quickly pushed those dark fantasies aside,sure that there was no room for me.

But it is hard to keep them buried when she says my name like that, looking positively radiant.  My heart raced with the possibility that maybe she was on this side of town to see me, I let the thought sit for a minute before letting logic say that wasn’t the case. 

“Hey, what are you doing at this end of town?” I tried not to sound eager, or maybe I was over pushing the surprised tone  in my voice.

“I just finished a job interview.”

“Rick!” The barista called out my order and I quickly snatched it off the counter, leading Eve outside to the sidewalk. 

“Interview? Did Chris start charging you rent?” I teased taking a sip of the bitter drink. The small cup in my hands was disappointingly lacking in the robust, aromatic notes. Perhaps the beans were of inferior quality, or the water temperature was too high, resulting in an over extraction that brought out only the bitterest flavors. Or maybe the grind was too fine, trapping undesirable compounds and imparting an unpleasantly sharp bitterness. Whatever the cause I will still attempt to drink it.

“No. I need something to do outside of the apartment. And the extra spending money doesn’t hurt.”

“Noah doesn’t shower you with gifts?” It's a blunt statement and maybe one I shouldn’t have said out loud. 

“Even if he wanted to, I hate it when he does. Thoughtful gifts are one thing. Those I like.” I nod along as she talks, watching her move her hands and pick at the sleeves of her sweater. 

“How’s Chris doing in Chicago?” I know what he is doing, he’s recording with Tommy, but I ask her anyway. I can’t help it, I want to have a conversation with her, even if it's something I already know. 

“Busy,” she shrugs her shoulders as we continue blindly walking down the streets.

“And Noah?” 

“Getting ready for his first European tour of the year.” She sounds somber about it.

“I take it that bothers you.”

“It's always hard keeping up with the time difference and then he is busy with the shows.” I know what that’s like. I have been there more than once. “But it’s nice to have them both. I feel less lonely.”

“Is that why? Because you’d be lonely with just one?” There I go again with my blunt comments passing by without checking out through the word filter. She pauses and stares at me blankly for a minute.

“No,” she says “that's not it. How can I describe it,” I watch her mind circle through the expressions on her face. “Mothers have children, do they ever love one child only?” 

“I mean, favorites and all,”

“Realistically, Rick, do they? Not often. So, with that I don’t see any reason why I can’t love more than one person.” 

“So, you love them huh?” I feel my heart ache in my chest. Its an unfamiliar feeling and i’m not a fan of it. She has said it to me in texts before, not seriously, but I still liked to think that one day she could mean it. It’s possible I'm pathetic, desperate, sick of being lonely, or maybe i’m just horny.

“It’s been a couple years, I'd say so.” I fake a small smile. Eve hooks her arm through mine, usually I am not big on people touching me, but for her i’ll let it slide. 

 “Don’t worry, Rick. There is still room for you in my life.” Her lips press quickly to my cheek before turning away to look at the displays in the window shops. It's a good thing she isn’t watching cause I can feel my cheeks turning red.

When I woke up this morning, I had a clear plan and agenda in mind. I was determined to make meaningful progress on my writing projects, taking periodic breaks to indulge in a bit of online shopping. I fully intended to add all sorts of unnecessary items to my digital shopping cart, only to ultimately delete them all before the day was done, repeating this mindless cycle over and over. It was a familiar routine, but one I found strangely comforting in its predictability. This unplanned social interaction led to an impromptu lunch together, and before I knew it, I was back at Eve's place, sitting comfortably with her head resting in my lap as she fell asleep watching a movie.

The simple touch of her bare skin against my fingertips sent a jolt of electricity through my body, my nerves igniting with a primal desire that I could scarcely contain. The vivid flashes of the intimate videos and photos that Chris had been discreetly sending me over the past few weeks now played on a constant loop in my mind, the tantalizing images searing themselves into my consciousness. Knowing about her, seeing her, was one thing - but to now have my own hands caressing the soft, supple flesh of her arms, to feel the warmth of her body radiating against my fingertips, was an entirely different and overwhelming experience. My self-control wavered as my body reacted with a visceral, almost teenage-like intensity.

Her body moved restlessly beneath me, her soft whimpers sending shockwaves of desire through my body. My eyes squeezed tightly shut, fighting the overwhelming urge to give in to the sensations coursing through me. With a guttural groan, I threw my head back against the cushions

. "Fuck, baby girl, stop making those sounds," i growled, the words escaping my lips in a harsh, ragged whisper. Holding my breath, every muscle taut with the effort of restraint, as I waited with bated breath for her to stir. But she remained motionless, lost in the throes of slumber, blissfully unaware of the torment she was putting me through. 

A few days passed and despite my best efforts, I simply could not shake the memory of that fateful moment from my mind. It continued to haunt me, replaying over and over again in my thoughts like a relentless nightmare that refused to subside. I tried to push it down, to ignore it and focus on other things, but it was as if the experience had burned itself into my psyche, impossible to truly forget no matter how hard I tried. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw the scene unfold again, each time the fantasy growing-she moaned under my touch as I slipped my hand under her shirt, between the waistband of her pants. It was eating away at me, gnawing at the edges of my consciousness and making it impossible to truly be present or find any sense of peace.

She wouldn't want me there, wouldn't need my presence intruding on her personal space. It would be best for me to just let her be, to give her the space she undoubtedly craved. And yet, the pull to go to her, to make sure she was okay, was undeniable. No matter how much my rational mind tried to convince me otherwise, something deep inside was compelling me to get in my car and drive in her direction, consequences be damned. I had to see her, had to check on her, had to make sure with my own eyes that she was safe and cared for, even if she didn't want me there.

As I pushed open the unlocked apartment door, I was immediately confronted with a sight that was both shocking and captivating. There, in the middle of the kitchen, was Chris with a firm, dominating grip on Eve’s hair. He had her bent over the counter, her back arched in a deliciously sensual curve as he pulled her head back, exposing the elegant line of her neck. 

I stood frozen, transfixed, Every fiber of my being wanted to look away, to give them privacy, yet I found myself unable to tear my eyes from the captivating tableau unfolding before me.

“Are you going to leave or close the door? I don’t need the whole building hearing us.” I blindly reached behind me finding  the edge of the door to push it closed, hearing it latch behind me. 

Chris began to slowly thrust into her, the sounds of her mewling and whining echoing off the walls of her apartment and hitting my ears as if she was screaming directly into them. I could feel my cock twitching inside the confines of my tight, skinny jeans - the restrictive denim clung to my lower body, emphasizing every movement and contour, and I cursed himself for always opting for such a form-fitting style, wishing I had chosen something with a bit more give and flexibility.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Chris says through clenched teeth. “Sit down, relax, enjoy the show.” Chris accentuates each of the last three words with a hard thrust. The small part of my brain takes over, defying all logic and human decency I plop myself into a nearby chair. 

“Eve we have a guest.” He says as he pulls on her hair to turn her head, cheek resting on the countertop. 

“Rick,” her soft voice calls to me, but I keep my gaze fixed on the floor. “Ricky, look at me.” Balling my hands into fists and setting my jaw, I clear my throat before sweeping my gaze up to hers. Fuck, she looks so beautiful with flush cheeks and red swollen lips. Her tits bounce with each thrust. I’d give anything to have her dig her nails into me as I watch her nails desperately claw at the counter. When her eyelids flutter I know she’s close, but her eyes remain on mine. She bites her lip when she catches my hand palming at my arousal. I feel my cheeks start to heat but I can’t stop myself. My hand slides closer to the waistband of my jeans, but I freeze when the words tumble from her pretty little mouth. 

“Fuck me, Rick.” Her eyes are shut tight, body tense just on the edge. It hits me like a train. Me, she is imagining it'd me. Chris doesn’t seem to mind its my name on her lips but I can’t take it. I shouldn’t feel this way about her. Adrenaline and shame surges through me as I push myself out of the chair, storming down the hall before I slam the bathroom door shut. I can still hear their moans from behind me as I lean against the wood and fumble with the button of my jeans. I hear her scream my name and my fingers can't seem to work fast enough. Once I have them undone I don’t even bother to push them down. Desperation takes over when my hand wraps around my aching cock, thrusting into my hand in time with Chris as he fucks her relentlessly through her orgasm. Imagining myself in Chris’ position is all I need before I am spilling over my fingers and onto her bathroom floor, just in time to hear Chris's groan as he succumbs to his own release.

Closing my eyes I try to steady my breathing, but it’s cut short when I hear footsteps getting closer. I shove my dick back into my boxers and pull on my jeans. Busying myself with washing my hands I try not to jump when there’s a sudden knock on the door. 

“Hey Rick, are you ok?” Eve asks, her voice soft and full of concern. 

“I’m fine.” I spit back. It’s harsh and cold, a habitual defense mechanism. 

“Are you su-” I cut her off but shoving open the door. I can’t face them right now, and especially the feelings I’ve shoved away. Storming through the kitchen, I slam the apartment door behind me– leaving them alone to pick up the pieces.

Eve’s POV

I watched helplessly as Rick pushed past me, his movements swift and determined. I instinctively reached out, desperate to stop him, to make him understand, but he was too fast, slipping through my grasp before I could get a firm hold. Chris tried to intervene, but Rick simply wove around him, making a beeline for the door. With a resounding slam, he shut it behind him, cutting off any chance of pursuit.

I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, sinking down against the wall until I was crouched on the floor. I could feel the weight of my actions settling over me, a crushing sense of heartbreak washing through my entire being. I had crossed a line, said or done something that had made one of my only true friends deeply uncomfortable. The realization filled me with a profound sense of regret and self-loathing.

Part of me wanted to chase after Rick, to try and make amends, to beg for his forgiveness.

But I knew by the time I could even get my shoes on, he would already be peeling out of the parking lot, racing down the highway, desperate to put as much distance between us as possible.

“Baby, come on off the floor,” Chris' gentle voice coaxes me off the hard, unyielding floor, his concern evident as he bends down to offer his support. Burying my face in the crook of my arms, I shut out the world, desperate for the solace of isolation. But Chris refuses to let me retreat, cradling me tenderly in his strong embrace as he lifts me from the cold, unforgiving ground and guides me to the soft, welcoming cushions of the couch.

With a gentle squeeze of reassurance, Chris steps away, returning to the kitchen to make us both something to eat. My phone buzzes from across the room, I jerk my head up, a flicker of hope igniting within me, only to have it doused as Chris answers the call, “Hey Noah,” he says into the receiver and I slum back down into the cushions.

I can only half hear Chris and Noah’s conversation, Chris taking extra care to talk low. “Nah, it didn’t go well….No, he walked out….I dunno she is pretty upset….I will probably call him later, hash things out.”

Chris handed me my bowl of food but I pushed it away onto the coffee table, too ashamed to eat. As the movie played out on the screen, the afternoon drifted by in a comfortable silence between Chris and I, the two of us huddled together under a warm, cozy blanket. The flickering images and muted sounds from the television were the only disturbances in an otherwise peaceful afternoon.

It wasn't until the last traces of daylight had faded and the room grew dim that the spell was finally broken - the shrill ringing of my phone jolting me back to reality.

“Yes, Noah,” no doubt he was calling concerned after my uncharacteristic radio silence throughout the day.

“It's not, Noah,” Rick's somber tone comes through the phone and I spring upwards.

“Rick, oh god, listen I am so sorry,” I start to plead but his voice cuts me off.

“Please. Let’s not talk about that right now. Um, listen, given everything it seems only fair I take you to dinner. As an apology on my part.”

“Like a date?” My voice catches in my throat a little.

“Like a date, as long as your boyfriends don’t mind.”

Chris is already looking my way as our eyes meet. His expression is obvious that he has heard every word. I wait with bated breath as he slowly nods his head.

I take in a shaky breath as I let the words fall from my lips, “Where are we going? What do I wear?”

[prosperdemeter2]

WIP Wednesday

Not watermark this time but another AU that I am having WAY too much fun writing... I give you a glimpse of Retail Manager!Eddie and Fire Marshal!Buck. I'm actually really excited for this story to be finished, I have so much planned for it.

Eddie was going to commit arson.

Which probably wasn't the smartest thought to be having while the much too attractive Fire Marshall listed out every single thing the previous store manager had screwed him over on but…. But Eddie was going to commit arson. At this point, it would probably help the company out to just burn down the whole store, take the insurance payout, and start over from the ground up. Preferably while still keeping him employed but, well, beggers couldn't be choosers and all that. “Your score is horrible,” the guy said with a tone of voice that meant that he was at least mentally, laughing in Eddie’s face. “Like, seriously, I don't think I should even let you stay open for business with a score this low.”

“So shut us down.” Eddie grumbled, kicking his sneaker against the scuffed up, unfinished concrete floor in front of the management desk.

He had been there a week.

A week. And Eddie had already had to argue with several customers over the return policy because the previous manager - may she rest in absolute hell (no, she wasn't dead, she had just gone to another store down the road and Eddie hated her on principle) - had thought the sign explaining it was tacky and removed it from the registers (which was illegal. They had to be posted). He had already had three workers put in their notice, the assistant manager kept looking sorry for him and annoyed by his questions, and now this. The Fire Marshal's inspection.

Eddie had worked his share of retail jobs and none of them enjoyed when the Fire Marshal visited. Granted, none of his stores had failed as hard as this one was apparently going to, but he figured there was a first time for everything.

The Fire Marshal snorted, “I'm not shutting you down.”

Great. Of course he wasn't. He was just wasting Eddie's time by pretending to care about his job. “Listen -.”

“I get it,” the Marshal said, pen tapping on the clipboard he brought with himself. It had several stickers on the back. Eddie had spied one that had said ‘hello, I'm anxious and I'm trying my best’. It looked like Chris’ folder for school. “It's, what, your first week?”

Eddie tried not to twitch and, instead, crossed his arms firmly around his chest. “Yes.”

“We'll call this a test run. You see what I do this time around, I give you a… Progress report or whatever. I'll come back in a few weeks when you've had some time to settle in and fix stuff up. Give you your real grade then.”

“That's…” Nice. Unfairly kind, actually. Something Eddie really hadn't expected. Every Fire Marshal Eddie had ever had the honor of being inspected by had shown up in a stuffy suit and tie, their badge clipped to their front pocket, and the air of someone who was almost good enough to be a firefighter permiating their being. This guy had shown up without any grays in his hair, a stupidly kind looking professional smile, a crisp white shirt with a small stain on his sleeve and a dark navy tie. He had introduced himself with a quick, firm shake of Eddie’s hand and said hello to the cashiers. He had worn his badge on his belt loop, not his pocket, and he had waited until Eddie was done with a customer before asking go to his office. Eddie didn't have any reason to be being so cold towards him. He almost felt guilty about it.

“Here,” The paper ripped as he tore off Eddie’s copy, signed the bottom, and handed it to him.

A 23%?!

Eddie balked at the score, “Oh, come on, man.”

“You're lucky it's not worse.”

“How is this lucky? It's an F minus.”

“Your smoke detectors don't even work in half the store.”

“They work.”

“See that blinking red light?” The Marshal pointed to the smoke detector above Eddie’s head. It blinked mockingly at him. “Half your alarms aren't doing that.”

Okay, so that… was a problem. “You marked down,” Eddie glanced at the paper, the neat, blocky handwriting in all capital letters. “That our store is too dirty. We clean it every night!”

“Cleary, not well enough.”

Absurdly, Eddie was insulted on behalf of his dusters. “You're just being petty.”

The Marshal bristled, “No, I'm being thorough.” He clicked his pen and shoved it in the front pocket of his khakis, and like it was mocking him, the overhead light in his office flickered, threatening to turn off completely. “I'll be back in a few weeks. Get this stuff fixed, and I'll give you an actual grade.”

“Get this stuff fixed, and I'll give you an actual grade,” Eddie mocked when he had left, burying his face in his hands with a groan. “Fuck you, Fire Marshal…” he glanced at the papers, to the name written out in print first before signed much too neatly. “Buckley.”

@wildlife4life 😘