#I feel like I am finally able to breathe for the first time in five years

[kingkat12]

go (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, emotional anguish, nausea, panic-attack, these two have no idea how to act when they like each other huh

summary: you'd think Roman Godfrey would know how to control his emotions-- that is, when he knows what he's feeling. do you? does he? oh, what a shame. everything ended on such a nice note last Sunday... unless that's what's making everything crumble?

word count: 7,415

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a/n: omfg this literally took three chapters of the same length to compile into something cohesive.... hope the headache was worth it!! I suggest just doing a quick google search on LVMH to maybe be able to keep up a little easier tho, if u haven't heard of the company? mwah mwah mwah for all the love, I love you all and I appreciate every single comment, AHHH enjoy!!!<3333

"Good morning, you've reached Mr. Godfrey's office," I said, the script rolling off my tongue. "This is his secretary speaking. How may I direct your call?"

This was normal.

This felt normal-- taking calls, doing my job, as normal.

But as I tucked the phone to my ear, I glanced toward the glass wall of Mr. Godfrey's office, and was reminded of just how far from normal everything actually was. 

There were about three associates in there with him, coming in to tell him about some boring issue in the Canadian branch of the business, and I knew that wasn't enough to make him pace like he did now. Back and forth, back and forth, teeth grinding, eyes wide and unfocused, Mr. Godfrey's steps were unrelenting. Why?

Guilt seeped into my chest like cement, although I had no idea why. I could surely not be the reason for this, right? What had happened in Mr. Godfrey's office last night couldn't have set him off like this, no-- what we did last night was on his turf, so it couldn't have. What was he thinking about? Why was he fidgeting like this? I had been so excited to see him, I had gotten up early to do my makeup and hair extra pretty, I was so, so thrilled to get to work, and now... nothing. Not a glance. Not a hello.

Every reminder of last night had me squirming, mostly because my ass still stung like a bitch. Still, there was one thing that instantly made me forget about my discomfort--

"Hi," said the stern voice on the phone."Is my Roro in?"

... Oh. 

I knew who called him that.

I nearly dropped the phone when I realized who it was; it bounced from one hand to the other after it slid off my shoulder, and I caught it with a shaky whimper. "Mrs. Godfrey," I said. "Yes-- Yes, ma'am, your son is here, but he is currently unavailable. Would you like to leave a message?--"

"I am not leaving a message," Olivia Godfrey snapped, harsh as ever. "Direct this call to my son. Now."

I rolled my eyes-- this woman was a pleasure, as always. The first time I ever spoke to her, she had taken the time to reprimand me for stuttering. The second time, she barked at me for five minutes because I didn't recognise her voice, which made me slow, seemingly. Lovely woman, honestly. 

"I will see what I can do, ma'am," I grumbled, hoping she could hear how utterly ecstatic I was to be talking to her.

Taking a deep breath, I approached Mr. Godfrey's door, my fingers trembling slightly as I knocked-- I was thrilled to finally have a reason to talk to him. Through the glass, I watched as his pacing abruptly halted at the sound of my knocking, and his striking, green eyes darted toward me with a startled intensity I didn't recognise in him. He quickly murmured something to his associates, excusing himself as he stepped out and quietly shut the door behind him.

I held my breath-- my God, he was gorgeous. When was he not?

Dressed head to toe in black, contrasting his pale skin, hair not as perfect as usual with a strand kissing at his forehead, Mr. Godfrey's green eyes met mine, flickering down to the phone I held, and then back up. Despite my hopes of the opposite, I expected him to be mad at the interruption, to tell me off for entering his office unannounced (was this barking a genetic thing?), but no-- he cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly, eyes soft but wary, as he continued looking oddly nervous; "Yes?"

Swallowing, I covered the phone's mouthpiece with my hand, leaning in closer to whisper. "It's your mother, sir. She insists,"

Mr. Godfrey's mouth twisted like he had just bitten a lemon. He grimaced-- not at me, but at the sheer idea of speaking to his mom. He wasn't looking at me much, actually, like he was avoiding the sight of me. "Oh, great," he mumbled, running a frustrated hand through his hair, disheveling it further. "That's just... great. Did she say what she wanted?"

I shook my head quickly. Honestly, I was a bit thrown, because why wasn't Mr. Godfrey more mad at the interruption? What was I witnessing? "No, sir, but... she might be calling to do another lecture on how to run the business, like always?"

Mr. Godfrey exhaled, but it was less frustration and more like resignation. "Ah... That sounds about right," He glanced at me again, briefly, before he reached for the phone, hesitating for a split second before gently taking it from my hand like it would burn him to touch me. "Hey mom," he mumbled, pressing the phone to his ear. "Yes-- Yes, call back in five minutes and she'll direct you to my line. Uh-huh... yes, sure. Yes. Bye."

When he ended the call, I hesitated, wondering how to read the room. How was I supposed to act normal when he certainly wasn't? My patience ran out when Mr. Godfrey handed me the phone back, his hand brushing mine, and he blinked like it startled him-- "Sir," I pressed. "Is everything alright?"

Should I maybe call an ambulance? Was he having a stroke? 

Mr. Godfrey stared at me like I had asked him to marry me-- puzzled that I had dared to ask him that, his eyes scanned my face, and I swore I saw his throat bob like he had swallowed something sharp. Then, finally, he let out a frustrated groan, running a finger over his eyebrow as he spoke; "I just-- do you have any longer skirts available?"

What? "Do you want a pair, sir...?"

A beat.

Two.

It was only when I saw the look of confused disgust in Mr. Godfrey's eyes that I realized what I had implied; oh no, no, no! Of course he wasn't a cross-dresser?!

"Not for me," he hissed, glaring down at me as his frustration built up. "Are you serious? Who do you think I am, I don't?--"

"I'm sorry, sir!" My heart kicked at my ribs, panic shooting through my veins; "I didn't mean to insinuate that you!-- I didn't think, I've never thought you!--"

"Clearly you weren't thinking!" he snapped, green gaze hardening as he glared down at me. "Just get back to work! You know you're distracting, so stop the whole--" He motioned to my eyes. "Stop the show with the lashes! Change into a different skirt, if you can!"

"I-- I didn't mean?--" I stammered, cheeks heating rapidly, feeling painfully exposed. "What lashes, sir? This is just mascara!"

Groaning, Mr. Godfrey rubbed his temples. Clearly, my presence was giving him a headache. I was the problem, wasn't I? "Oh, this is just making it worse..." he breathed. "Looking at you just-- it makes it worse. Work somewhere else today, okay? Find a free desk, I don't--" He waved with his hand, dismissing me. "I don't care. Lunch is on me, put it on my tab. Go."

... What?

Stunned, I couldn't find the words. 

I nodded quickly, humiliated, my eyes stinging as I turned away, retreating swiftly to my desk to grab my stuff; everything had seemed so nice when we left things off yesterday. What could've gone wrong?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day started the same as always.

"Good morning, you've reached Mr. Godfrey's office," I said, the script rolling off my tongue. "This is his secretary speaking. How may I direct your call?"

This was normal.

This felt normal-- taking calls, doing my job, as normal. Right?

But as I tucked the phone to my ear, I glanced toward the glass wall of Mr. Godfrey's office, and was reminded of just how far from normal everything was again; he hadn't come in for work today. After what had happened between us yesterday, possibly the most awkward conversation on the planet where I had accused Mr. Godfrey of being a cross-dresser (oh Lord), here I was, alone, with my boss nowhere to be found. Again. I'd had enough of this when he was in Geneva.

"Aha," I mumbled into the phone, scribbling the details of the call. It was impossible to concentrate; it wasn't until a minute later that I realized I had scribbled Mr. Godfrey's name into the notepad in the middle of the sentence. It made me wonder if I'd ever call him that-- Roman. It was a pretty name. Very, very pretty name. The only other Roman I knew was this buff Russian guy who posted really cringey pictures of himself flexing in the mirror, who used to be in my class back in middle school; my Roman was nothing like that.

Wait, did I just... 'my Roman?'

Oh no, no.

Mr. Godfrey. That's who he was. My boss. My dangerously handsome boss, who definitely had never posted pictures of himself flexing on Instagram. It wasn't long ago that I scoured through it actually, out of pure curiosity-- he had a rather huge following, mostly girls, who also spent their every waking moment bombarding his comment section with love letters. Did they really think that would work...?

They had no idea who he really was, and they had no idea that he had spanked me raw in his office two days ago. My ass still stung, and sickeningly enough, I fucking loved it.

I had to do everything in my power to not cross my legs and tend to the ache that built with every second I spent thinking about the night of the Sunday banquet-- enough was enough. Mr. Godfrey wasn't here. Maybe he regretted everything? Maybe he had gotten the ick from me somehow? Maybe it just... got too sticky, at the end of the day? 

But just as I was about to prepare to lunge out the floor-to-ceiling windows in Mr. Godfrey's empty office, the distant pling of the elevator sounded. I straightened up fast, as if I had just been caught with my hand down my skirt; was he finally here? Would I get to apologize for yesterday's comment? Would he greet me with a smile? A frown? A look of disgust? 

The elevator doors slid open with a sterile chime-- I shot to my feet like a soldier under fire, blood rushing to all the wrong places. Had he come back for me? Or was he so horrified by what had happened between us that he had to come here himself and force my head into the guillotine, just to put himself out of the misery of seeing me every day? My heart punched upward into my throat, a masochistic part of me almost craving it--

But it wasn't Mr. Godfrey.

It was someone... older?

A bit shorter, maybe. Bulkier, in that I-used-to-row-for-college kind of way. He moved with the tired gait of someone who had once commanded rooms and now just tolerated them. There was a graying slackness to his expression that didn't feel sleepy so much as permanently worn out, like he had been awake for the last two decades and was finally running out of fuel.

And then I recognized him-- Norman Godfrey.

What?

The last time I had seen Norman was when Letha and I shared a dorm in college, and he came in to fix our mini-fridge. I had just gotten home from "hanging out" with my then-boyfriend, who lived across campus, and I'd had a very suspicious look about me; smudged mascara, smudged lipstick, along with a blissed out expression on my face. Of course I had to look like a whore the very day Letha's dad came to help us out-- of course. 

So, as Norman locked eyes with me now, his familiar green eyes softened with mild amusement; "Thought I recognized you," he said, approaching with a tired smile and a knowing wave of his fingers. He gave me a polite kiss on the cheek, warm but impersonal. Norman pulled away, giving my shoulders a squeeze; "Well, look who's grown! Last time I saw you, you exclusively wore glitter eyeliner and drank martinis in the laundry room!"

Kill me.

"That'd be me, sir," I said, trying my best polite smile, blushing with embarrassment. "You also helped with our fridge, remember?"

"Right, yes! And someone had drawn a penis on it with a sharpie,"

... Guilty as charged. 

"Heh," I breathed, rubbing the back of my neck. This was going to be hell, wasn't it?

Norman chuckled, waving dismissively, his weariness plain. "Roman asked me to step in today. The LVMH team is coming Thursday, in two days, and he hasn't had time to prepare properly because of his little trip, and... something about not wanting unsupervised chaos?

Of course Norman immediately assumed I was the chaos-- when had I not been, back in college? "Oh, no, that's-- I mean, everything is under control," I tried, motioning toward the rest of the quiet office like my heart wasn't threatening to hammer out of my chest. "No one's drawing anything anywhere, that's for sure."

Norman grunted-- not in agreement. Just noise, at this point. He stepped past me, pushing past the glass doors I never entered without permission anymore, before taking in the office like he had once lived here; the familiarity in his movements was eerie. It felt like it was muscle memory for him, like he could sit in Mr. Godfrey's chair and run the whole empire without missing a beat. 

A hum followed from Norman as I entered the office behind him, along with a quick sniffle, twitch, of his nose, like he was bored of being here already; "My brother J.R. used to sit right there," he said, motioning toward the chair like he was giving me the official guide. "He built this whole empire from scratch, and it damn right killed him, so I will not have anyone bringing this place down."

If only he knew how hard I came in that exact chair two days ago.

"Right," I mumbled, having heard this lecture from Mr. Godfrey countless times already. "But sir, um... LVMH?"

Norman turned to me, adjusting his glasses. Now, he looked like he a tired man who'd rather drink beer on his porch, but he had that serious glint in his eyes that I didn't recognise from any other Godfrey; this guy wasn't mean like my official boss, wasn't mischievous like Letha, but worn out, like an Appalachian farmer after a long day of waving his guns at people trying to steal his cattle. "Roman drew up some agreements with the chairman when he was in Geneva. It's one of the biggest companies in the world, if you haven't caught up. They might be taking us up on some collaborative offers, but this is all very fresh, so you wouldn't have heard it anyway," 

"And this is concerning...?"

"Nothing that concerns you. Mostly shares," Norman huffed, dismissive. It was clear that he thought this was above my station, and found it weird that I was asking, so he followed it up with-- "How did you get this job, by the way?"

"Letha got me an interview, sir,"

"The right way, then?"

My eye twitched before I could control it-- what was he suggesting...? With a cramped up smile, I bit my tongue; "I have the qualifications for this job, sir,"

"Oh, is that so?" Norman removed his glasses, yet his green eyes stayed focused on mine as he wiped them with his sleeve. "What's on the agenda for today, then?"

I cleared my throat; "I'm supposed to finalize the pitch deck for the Siemens consortium and call our asset management team before two. I didn't know you were coming in, sir, so I don't really have anything for you to do, except for your own instructions,"

Norman blinked, once, twice, like he had heard me wrong. Then, he slowly slid his glasses back on like he needed help processing what he'd just heard. "Roman has you... finalizing pitch decks?" he asked, each word weighed with suspicion. 

I gave a small nod-- why was he acting like that was weird? I totally knew what a pitch deck was when I took this job (not). "Yes. He says he likes my formatting, and my... instincts," That last part came out slower-- even I wasn't sure what it meant. Was it perhaps actually weird? 

Oh, fuck.

Norman tilted his head. "Instincts,"

"... Yes, sir,"

"Jesus Christ," Norman rubbed the bridge of his nose like I was giving him the world's biggest migraine. "Anything else? Or is that enough corporate espionage for one morning?"

I hesitated. "Well... I'm also supposed to draft a response to that Forbes interview," Forbes nose, Forbes nose, Forbes nose. Where was my boss? On the cover of Forbes; that's all I could know for sure. Click, click, click. 

Norman's bushy eyebrows lifted just slightly, but it was the closest thing to a cartoon double-take Norman Godfrey was probably capable of. "You're ghostwriting Roman's media statements?"

"Just... the draft. He said he'd do the final pass,"

"He won't," Norman muttered. Then louder, to no one in particular; "He never does, that spoiled brat."

Mr. Godfrey, a brat? At least someone else thought he was. I wasn't the only brat at the office, then; I tried to smile, but my face was betraying me with that small, stretched look of someone rapidly recalculating their life choices. What was happening? Had I outed my little arrangement with Mr. Godfrey somehow?

Norman looked at me again, really looked, and I could see the wheels turning. "You're getting an inappropriate amount of work for a simple secretary," he eventually huffed, rolling his eyes at the sky like God could help him with the college-dorm nightmare he had been presented with once more. Eventually, he turned and walked to the window, looking out over the city like it had wronged him personally; "You're doing tasks way beyond your rank... This place used to have a chain of command," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "It seems some things are getting out of hand."

Norman gazed at me over his shoulder, and the light above cast a shadow across his face which almost made me shiver; like this, he looked like the ultimate Hell-bringer-- and that, he seemed to become with every second. "You are just a secretary," he grumbled. "Leave the Arnaults and LVMH with me. You will not send any mails to Forbes. Fetch me a coffee instead, like you're supposed to."

Oh, this felt nasty-- nastier than when Mr. Godfrey put me over his knee and spanked me. 

With my heart squeezing itself dry of every drop of blood, I forced a smile and a small nod before quietly leaving the office-- was I going to be able to bite down on my tongue all day?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day, I tried paying no mind to Norman's heavy-handed dismissal. It might not be anything personal, after all. My biggest concern for now, was why Norman was back again; where was Mr. Godfrey?

I really, really tried not to care. Now, I had to focus on the meeting where we were going to discuss how to prepare for the agreement with LVMH, which was about to start. They were supposed to come tomorrow after all, which made it all the weirder that the actual CEO wasn't here. 

I had prepared for this pitch deck all night-- now, I stood outside the conference room with five folders clutched to my chest like a schoolgirl with too many books. One for each executive, each one tabbed, colour-coded, double-checked, like the good fucking secretary I was. My hands were trembling, so I pressed one to the edge of a folder into my palm to make it stop-- the sting helped, just a smidge. Mr. Godfrey would've been proud of me, surely.

So, as I watched Norman welcome the committee, standing behind him with the polite smile that had somehow managed to charm Mr. Godfrey into putting a vibrator into my underwear during dinner, I was convinced this would turn my day around. Maybe Mr. Godfrey would hear about how well of a job I had done? Maybe then, he'd come back and face me?

When the last suit-clad man arrived, my bright, keen gaze watched the interim CEO, waiting for the usual nod to get into the meeting room, but alas--

Norman blinked at me, once, twice, like I was some brainless idiot that had somehow managed to get into the building, as he clutched the knob to the meeting room. "You're dismissed," he said, waving at me to piss off as he started closing the door. 

My heart shot up my throat; with a quiet, surprised squeak, I jammed my So Kate's between the door. "The-- The folders!" I tried, feeling pathetic as ever.

With a loud sigh and another roll of his eyes, Norman reached forward and pulled all the folders out of my tight embrace, similarly to how a parent takes their crying baby away from you in time for their feeding. "Thank you. That will be all for today,"

"What?" I breathed, a choked laugh escaping me. "But-- I prepped the case, I can!--"

"We're all set," he huffed, dismissive.

"I prepared everything, I just!--"

"Go," Norman hissed, glaring at me with the wrath of Satan. "Now."

What the fuck? This was not the father-figure I knew who dismissed the drawn dicks on the fridge? The pressure built behind my eye sockets like I was about to scream or faint or combust right here in front of the Godfrey Industries board; finally, I relieved myself of the humiliation I did not enjoy and stepped back, allowing the door to click shut. 

And... that was it. Just like that, I wasn't needed. I wasn't trusted. I wasn't even allowed to sit in the fucking room. Was this what Mr. Godfrey wanted? Did he want his evil uncle to come in and put me in my place because of last Sunday? Because of some stupid comment? I thought we were good now?!

Humiliation tasted like blood when it didn't come from his hand. I didn't like the taste of this. This tasted like iron. This was metal. This was cold. This was clean. This was cruel, just as I had asked in that drunk email-- I take it back. Oh, how I take it back, with desperate fingers. 

It seemed I stood there for too long, hands twitching to dig into my sockets and pull my eyes out; I needed to get away. I needed to... go? 

Maybe Norman was just from an era where secretaries were only eye-candy? Maybe he didn't think women were capable of anything, hence why he gave up on his daughter and started supporting her financially instead of giving her a real job in the company? Seemed right to me. This couldn't be Mr. Godfrey's doing, no-- would he really go this far? Oh, he could. He really could.

As I slumped back into my chair behind my desk, far away from the meeting I'd usually be a part of, I tried not to focus on how heavy my heart felt in my chest. Instead, my eyes darted to Mr. Godfrey's empty office, and my mind immediately flooded back to memories of the last time I had been in there with him.

The way he had looked at me after we were done was... different.

Maybe that scared him so much that he couldn't look at me? Maybe that was why he sent his evil uncle to step in, because he couldn't look at me without feeling the same fondness I know he had felt in that moment? But wouldn't Mr. Godfrey want to finish the LVMH case himself, after he had met with the leader of the corporation in Geneva...? This was all too confusing.

And then, I got an email, but not from whom I had hoped. 

From: Norman Godfrey

Subject: URGENT

We need macarons.

21st street, Downtown Emlin Road, 19147 Pennsylvania. 

Get the one with thirty pieces. I was told you have the company card. 

Be quick.

With regards,

Norman Godfrey, COO of Godfrey Industries (Interim CEO).

Groaning, I drove my forehead into my desk. That was, like, fifteen minutes away! Was I going to march around outside for that long in these shoes? Not that it would bother me, of course, but... ugh. I hated macaron duty. I hated Norman Godfrey.

The next time I drew a dick, it would hopefully be on his forehead.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Later that same day, grumpy as ever, I entered the board meeting (finally), carefully balancing a box of macarons in my hand, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. It took considerable effort to maintain a polite, professional smile as I moved quietly to set them on the table, eyes deliberately averted from Norman's disapproving stare. 

But then, just as I straightened, my heart leaped into my throat.

Mr. Godfrey sat at the head of the table, impeccably dressed as always, green eyes dark and unreadable as he tapped a pen repeatedly at the papers in front of him (which I had so carefully crafted). Our eyes locked for a breathless second, and my pulse sped up, my earlier annoyance dissipating instantly-- for some reason, he looked startled to see me, as though my appearance had somehow disrupted the careful composure he wore.

Suddenly clearing his throat, Mr. Godfrey broke eye contact, brushing at his suit. "Excuse me," he announced to the room, standing smoothly from his chair. "I'll be back shortly."

Without another word, he rounded the table and walked toward me, guiding me gently by putting his hand on my lower back-- my face flushed as my eyes snapped toward Norman, feeling his disapproval sear into my spine. 

Still, Mr. Godfrey seemed unfazed. He led me out into the hallway, closing the door behind us before he slowly turned, almost like he dreaded to face me.

I stared up at the man who had haunted my every waking thought. Where had he been? Should I speak, should I?--

But then, he did. "You have something... uh," 

Mr. Godfrey reached out toward me, and the second I saw his hand raise, I froze; I held my breath as his warm fingertips brushed my hair, gently pulling out a small leaf that must've lodged itself there during my hurried macaron run. Fuck. 

He held it between us, both of us suspended in a wordless void, staring at each other without knowing what to say. Why was this so awkward? Seriously?

"Oh," I whispered, mortified but strangely thrilled by his touch. "Thank you, sir."

Blinking, Mr. Godfrey quickly glanced away. "Follow me," he mumbled, leading me toward his office.

With nervous steps, I followed his long, rushed stride; "Mr. Godfrey, sir," I chimed. "I'm glad you're back." Speaking of backs, I kept staring up at his as he led the way; he was so broad compared to me, so tall. I remembered how small I felt when he had put me in his lap, when he eased his fingers into me, and made me cum as he cradled me-- oh, I needed to snap out of this. 

Mr. Godfrey didn't even turn to me, letting out a hum. Did he sound annoyed? Did he not care? Had he forgiven me for the cross-dressing comment? Had he not missed me, too? Clearly not. I was the one doing the longing, here, as always. I bet he had lied about missing me in Switzerland, too. 

At that, my heart sank, and stayed put in the pit of my stomach as Mr. Godfrey motioned for me to enter his office before him, closing the door behind us. 

I stood in the middle of the room as he walked to his desk, adjusting a pen. "Sir," I mumbled, head hanging low with shame; was he going to punish me for reasons I didn't know? That felt unfair. "Did I do something wrong again?"

"What?" Mr. Godfrey turned to me, fingers lingering on his desk supplies. Something about him seemed uncharacteristically... nervous, just like he was on Monday. "No. Unless you have something to confess to?"

"No, sir,"

"Then you're good," he mumbled, green eyes darting back to the pens. What was happening? Was he waiting for me to speak?

I shifted my weight from heel to heel, picking at my new French manicure, lilac as always. "Where, uh..." Did I dare to initiate? "May I ask where you've been, sir?"

"No,"

"No?-- Oh," 

Mr. Godfrey sighed, let go of the pens, and turned to me. He leaned back slightly against his desk, arms crossing over his chest-- not casually, but like a man keeping himself from saying too much. "I wasn't avoiding you," he finally said, his tone clipped but low. "In case that's where your mind's been."

I blinked. "I didn't say it was, sir," 

"You didn't have to,"

The words hung in the air like static-- he was more on guard than ever. Why? Was this his way of doing damage control, to beat me to my every word and thought?

I swallowed hard, my fingers still twitching at the hem of my blazer like they could smooth the tension between us. The silence felt like it was daring me to fill it. I could hear my own pulse in my ears, the quiet whirr of the air conditioning, the way Mr. Godfrey's fingers tapped once, just once, against the edge of his desk, before stopping completely.

"Well," I mumbled, barely above a breath. "I'm glad you're not avoiding me. I've been worried."

"You didn't have to," he repeated, not looking at me anymore. "What did you worry about?"

Oh...? Mr. Godfrey hadn't asked a question like that before. "That you'd try to fire me again, sir,"

"Try to, being the key here," he huffed, allowing a small upward twitch of his mouth. "The shit you pulled on me last time made that impossible."

When I got down on my knees and pleaded for him to keep me because I said I couldn't live without the masochistic emotional pain of being his secretary? Yeah, I remembered that, and it made my cheeks rosy. I shifted in my Louboutins, heart thudding harder; "Then why did you have your uncle drag me back down to intern-level coffee duty? Why wasn't I allowed into that meeting just now? I wrote that pitch deck, sir... I stayed up all night to finish it."

Mr. Godfrey didn't answer right away-- he blinked slowly, once, twice, before he pressed his thumb to the bridge of his nose, and let out a sharp exhale. "The deck was thorough," he muttered. "You did good." His tone was smooth, too smooth, like a man reverting to the corporate script like it might save him; "Besides, my uncle prefers... minimal distractions."

... Distractions?

I straightened my spine as my voice went small; "I see,"

"Don't do that," he muttered, giving me a look I knew too well. "Don't twist it."

"I'm not twisting anything, sir," I huffed, even though my throat was burning. "Just pointing out what it actually is."

"And that is...?"

"Sexism," 

Mr. Godfrey sighed, shaking his head as he turned to gaze at the skyline. "Sexism," he repeated flatly, as if the word tasted like ash. "Is that what we're calling it?"

I didn't answer-- not because I didn't stand by my words, but because something about the way he said it made me feel small, like I had misunderstood something vital.

"I didn't tell Norman to cut you out," he continued, green eyes still on the window, tone bone-dry. "But I didn't stop him either. If you're looking for me to fight for your seat at the table, you're going to be disappointed."

"... Why?"

"Because he'd catch up in an instant," Mr. Godfrey said, so quietly it felt like a confession dragged from his throat.

I frowned; "Catch up?"

"To what this is," he muttered, still not facing me. His reflection in the glass was vague, almost ghostlike, like he didn't want to be solid for this part of the conversation. "To what we are-- or, y'know, aren't. I meant aren't. Obviously we aren't, but to what we do. You know what I meant."

My brows drew together tighter as I tried to find the right words. Why was Mr. Godfrey stumbling over his words like this? It made me uneasy that he was uneasy, like a domino effect. "Okay," I mumbled. "As long as things go back to normal when your uncle leaves. When will that be?"

"Tomorrow. After the LVMH meeting,"

"Ah,"

"I wanted backup," Mr. Godfrey explained, finally looking at me again. Something told me he had pulled himself together when he didn't have his eyes on me-- perhaps that helped? He had sent me away this Monday to think clearly, so obviously this worked the same way? I felt my shoulders slump, trying to make myself invisible as he continued; "This LVMH thing is a big deal. When I met with their CEO in Geneva, we also discussed how my company could branch out into the perfume industry with their help, and... there's a lot of money in that. A lot of status. But my mother is freaking out and saying that we should only stick to machinery and whatever the fuck Pryce is on about downstairs, and-- no. I'm fucking bored. I want the company to be fresh, do you understand? I can't let Norman sniff us out, and then pull the company back a decade."

I blinked-- this information was definitely way above my rank. Why was Mr. Godfrey using me as his confidante? It didn't matter; I saw the way his green eyes flashed, the way he motioned with his hands like he was burning with passion, and there was something about the way he engaged with all of this that made my heart pound a bit faster.

I swallowed, nodding; "I understand, sir," This wasn't just about the two of us. This was about his company, its future, and his family legacy. Fine.

Mr. Godfrey studied me for a second too long, like he was surprised I actually understood him. His jaw shifted, as if he was about to say something else-- but then he stopped, blinking down at the desk instead. "So, I'm sorry about my uncle. There's a lot on the line,"

"I see that, sir,"

"But... this deal wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for you,"

At that, I froze; "What?"

Without answering me, Mr. Godfrey stepped around his desk. He walked toward the side cabinet, the sleek one no one but him ever touched, and pulled open the bottom drawer. "I didn't originally meet with Bernard Arnault in Geneva to talk shares," he explained. "But I had asked him for a little favour for you, and while we talked, he told me how he had acquired his shares in Hermès, and I got inspired. He basically gave me a masterclass, and the whole trip ended perfectly because of a detour. You being a little brat paid off, for once."

My stomach flipped. No way. "Sir," I breathed, voice hitching as he set a long, matte-black box down on the table between us. 

Mr. Godfrey's green eyes darted up at me as I carefully approached-- suddenly, he had no problem looking at me. It made sense; he had planned this part. He knew how this would go from here on, and now he felt safe again, probably. I watched as his mouth slowly quirked up into an unmistakable smirk, like he had just successfully caught a mouse in a mousetrap. 

"Careful," he purred, almost amused. "You might fall in love."

I froze-- what?

"With the craftsmanship," he clarified, biting down on a laugh at the sight of the face I pulled. "It's very... you."

I stared down at the box, heart ticking a little faster. "Is it?" My fingers brushed the edge of the box-- what could this be? My mind was racing. This felt more intimate than having Mr. Godfrey's fingers inside of me.  

"I got to see a selection of a few of them, since Bernard was very generous. My family doesn't usually ask for favours, so I think he grabbed the opportunity to show off his new Hermès deal," he continued, motioning for me to open it. "And I thought this would match your heels."

My heels? Oh my God. He even remembered the colour of my damn heels. With a growing smile I couldn't restrain, I unclasped the lid, peeling it open like it might bite-- my breath caught.

Inside, nestled in pale silk, was the exact shade I had once admired. Black. Gold hardware.

A Birkin bag.

"You--" I let out a squeal I never thought I'd make in front of Mr. Godfrey, beaming up at him like he had just handed me a diamond the size of my fist. "You got me a Birkin?" I breathed. "You-- sir, you?--"

"You're repeating yourself," he drawled, smooth and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to enjoy this little spectacle I was giving him. Still, behind the casual tone, there was something unmistakable in his eyes-- a glint of satisfaction, rare and boyish, like he was proud of himself for pulling something like this off. "Might want to reel it in before someone hears you shrieking."

That was certainly impossible. With yet another squeal, I dared to touch my new bag, clasping a hand over my mouth to muffle the noise.  "This--" I breathed, tracing the leather. "This is insane! I meant, like-- bring me a souvenir, like a-- like a, I don't know, a snow globe?--"

"I don't do snow globes," Mr. Godfrey huffed, dryly cutting me off. "I like following things through properly. It took three favours, two hours, and one stupidly long espresso to get your initials on it, too, so you better like it."

Wait, what?

My eyes flew back to the bag. Mr. Godfrey took a step closer, positioning himself just beside me, his body tilting slightly as he leaned in, watching my every reaction with a smug smile. He knew I liked it. He knew I loved it. He knew I would.

Right there, delicately engraved into the gold pleating-- my initials. Small, perfect, and permanent.

I gasped, eyes big and wide as I stared up at him, jaw on the floor.

But instead of meeting my gaze, Mr. Godfrey looked at the bag again, like he secretly couldn't bear the weight of what he had just done, or how much it meant. Still, the subtle twitch of his shoulder gave him away; he had waited for this. He had thought about it. Imagined it. My reaction. My gratitude. My awe.

God, he liked me like this, didn't he? Speechless. Reeling. His.

I knew I had to get myself together now, before my whole demeanour scared him off. With one big inhale, I did my best to gather my thoughts; "I don't know how to thank you,"

At that, Mr. Godfrey's green eyes darted down at me, no longer hiding his surprisingly soft smile. "You just did," he said, quiet and steady.

It was intimate in a way that made my skin prickle. The space between us hummed as my fingers clutched the Birkin like it would calm down my heart, grounding myself in its weight, its scent, its reality. This was real. He had gotten this for me. He had thought about my heels. My initials. Me. This wasn’t about the bag anymore-- it never was. It was about him trying to say something he didn’t know how to say.

Mr. Godfrey's arms folded across his chest again-- classic Godfrey posture, but this time I could see it; restraint. He was holding something in, keeping distance where closeness threatened to spill.

"Mr. Godfrey," I started, voice catching.

His eyes flicked to mine, unreadable. Waiting.

I had to ask. I had to ask. "... Why?"

Something told me Mr. Godfrey was dead sure of exactly why, but he refused to let the truth hit daylight. He blinked, just once. "I don't know," he mumbled. "Don't think about it too much."

"I can't," I breathed, and before I could stop myself, before the warning bells in my brain could go off, it slipped out, unfiltered and bare-- "I think about you all the time."

The second it was out, I felt it. The shift. The air cracked in half. 

Mr. Godfrey blinked-- once. His arms slowly uncrossed from where they'd rested so casually across his chest, now falling stiffly to his sides. There was no sound, no scoff or dry remark, no disarming smirk to rescue me from the silence, just his expression-- unreadable. Blank. Eerily still in the worst way, like a storm deciding where to break.

But slowly, inch by inch, his entire body seemed to falter, not dramatically, but with a kind of quiet collapse that came from the inside. His green eyes didn't meet mine anymore-- they floated somewhere past me, toward the window or the wall, like the room had begun to tilt on its axis and he was trying to focus on something that wouldn't move. One hand lifted to grip the edge of the table, knuckles whitening around the polished wood.

"Sir?" I whispered, heart skidding into panic. The Birkin in my arms felt suddenly stupid and irrelevant, like a relic from a different scene, and I quickly put it back in the box. "Are you alright--?"

Mr. Godfrey flinched at the sound of my voice. His jaw clenched, his features twisting slightly in discomfort as he took a step back, and his voice, when it came, was fractured. "Don't--" he said. "Don't say things like that."

The words weren't angry-- much worse. 

They were afraid.

"I'm sorry," I breathed, feeling my heart shatter in all directions. "I didn't-- forget I said that, sir."

But it was too late.

Mr. Godfrey brought a hand up to his mouth, then slid it down his chest like he was physically trying to calm something rising in him-- heat, nausea, panic, all of it boiling beneath the surface. His skin had gone so pale it almost looked grey beneath the office lighting. "I just need--" He cut himself off, pressing his lips tightly together. "Fuck... Fuck."

He turned away from me without another sound, pacing a few slow, uncertain steps, then reached for the bookshelf with one hand, bracing himself like I had just told him he had two more weeks to live. His broad shoulders heaved once, twice. 

My stomach dropped. He looked sick, nauseous, dizzy, like my words had triggered something disgusting, visceral, and overwhelming in him. "Sir?" I tried again, my voice barely audible as worry boiled my veins. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-- I'll stop talking, I'll never say another word again, I swear, I-- I'm sorry, sir!"

The more I watched Mr. Godfrey, the more I tried to figure out what was going on, whether I should call an ambulance or not, or simply throw myself out of the window, I saw it clear as day-- he wasn't furious.

He was unraveling.

Panicking.

Panicking, like I had touched a nerve that wasn't meant to be touched. Panicking, like I had forced something into the light that had never once been allowed to breathe air. Panicking... at the thought of me thinking of him. All the time. All the time.

What had I done?

I hadn't meant to go that far-- I only so did in my dreams. In my dreams, I'd tell him over and over how he was the bane of my existence. He would listen. He would reciprocate.  But even though I wanted him to know that he lived in the corners of my mind more than he should... the real Mr. Godfrey didn't want to know that. He didn't want to hear it. He hated the sound of it. He didn't want to know. 

And then finally, finally, Mr. Godfrey spoke-- his voice was low, distant, and restrained, and it sounded like it came from somewhere outside his body; "You should go," he breathed, a painful sound. "Take the bag and-- go. Just go. Now."

... I'd rather he bludgeoned me bloody.

Whatever this moment had been, fragile and rare, stitched together with the softest thread-- I had cracked it wide open with one stupid truth. A truth he couldn't face. A truth he maybe felt, but wouldn't let breathe.

I slowly grabbed the Birkin, clutching it to my chest like a shield, too ashamed to meet his eyes again, even if he dared to give me one last glance. My throat was full of something I couldn't swallow, the weight of gold hardware and silence heavier than anything I had ever carried, and my tears pooled in my eyes; "Yes, sir," I whispered. "I'm so-- I'm so sorry."

When I closed the door behind me with a quiet click, I couldn't believe what I had just witnessed and done. Pressing my back against the cold wood, I tried to steady my panting, clutching my new purse that was probably worth more than my soul. 

I shouldn't have said that-- I should've kept that to myself.

But then again... why would he panic like that if he didn't care?

Why would my truth make him sick... 

Unless it was also his?

(a/n: can't shake the one comment I got today where someone said they brought this fic up in therapy😭 SORRY, I LOVE YOU, the next chapter will definitely be therapy-worthy, so THANK YOU if you have stuck around so far!!!! MWAH MWAH SMOOCHES)

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lovely little taglist:

@grimoireskin @babyslilbee @jacks4lifer @turnmeintoaflower

@fish-eyes-png @muchwita @555-hya-kai @ohperiodtpoohhh

@lunaskye999 @tvdxstan @sn0wybowie-blog @sweatyconnoisseurstrawberry

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@humongoussweetsengineer @babyslilbee @eugsposts @upirlover

@jacks4lifer @sickopsychosicko

[persepinas]

Can’t wait for June because pride month and Nola and gay vampires and dragons and more Salem and so many things I’m so happy to be alive!

[ecstarry]

@into-the-jeggyverse / crazy / 478 words

“Am I crazy?” Regulus said as he paced around Sirius’ study. He arrived unannounced, not more than twenty minutes ago. 

“What?” Sirius replied, for what felt like the sixth time.

“Come on, be honest—” Regulus collapsed into the armchair next to him, his head in his hands, “—am I insane?”

“I’m lost.”

“For thinking we can make it work,” Regulus breathed, still in panic.

“I’m still very confused,” Sirius mumbled, though he doubted his brother even heard him.

Regulus took a deep, shaky breath and finally met Sirius’ gaze. “Do you think it can really work?”

“Reg, it’s been working for what—five? Six years?” Sirius set his glass of whiskey down, his voice softening. “Why wouldn’t it work now?”

“Because love isn’t everything,” Regulus muttered, his face dropping back into his hands.

“What exactly are you asking me?” Sirius leaned back in his chair.

“Just… I don’t know, you always say love isn’t everything.” He buried his face between his hands. 

“True.” Sirius paused. Regulus wasn’t an open book—one of the many things they had in common—but God, how Sirius wished he could crack him open and read. He’d gladly reread the same sentence over and over if it meant understanding what Regulus needed right now.

All he could do was try.

“Yes, love isn’t everything,” Sirius began cautiously. “But I think it makes you kinder—”

Regulus sighed loudly, shooting him an annoyed look. A rich reaction, coming from the man who’d barged in ranting nonsense.

“Will you let me finish?”

Regulus huffed but nodded.

“It makes you kinder,” Sirius repeated. “It helps you look past all the dumb shit, the meaningless distractions, and actually focus on what matters.”

Regulus was finally listening. “Which is?”

“Each other.”

“Right.” Regulus sounded earnest, but Sirius could see his mind was still miles away, lost somewhere Sirius couldn’t touch.

“What’s this really abo—” Sirius started, but the words died on his tongue as Regulus shifted in his seat and pulled something from his pocket.

Sirius froze.

Regulus held up a small box, wrapped in soft crimson velvet. He didn’t open it. He didn’t need to.

“So,” Regulus asked again, his voice quieter now, steadier, “am I crazy?”

“Wait, am I...?” Sirius murmured, barely able to get the words out. He didn’t need to explain further. Regulus already knew what he was asking.

“Yeah,” Regulus said with a small, nervous laugh. “You’re the first to know.”

Sirius reached out, his fingers brushing against the box but not taking it. They’d never been good at this—touching, feeling at ease in each other’s presence. But in that moment, with their hands barely grazing, it felt... easy.

Finally, Sirius broke the silence.

“He’s going to love it.”

A muffled sob escaped Regulus’ lips. For once, he was the one who couldn’t find the words.

“Do you think he’ll take my last name?”

“Now that's insane.”

[yumiblaze]

Cursed - Saja Boys X Fem!Reader Part 1

I'm so glad you all loved the prologue so much! I am writing a bunch more for future parts I swear! But for now here's chapter one! ^w^

PROLOGUE

NEXT PART

CHAPTER ONE           

“Don’t go too far okay?” Zoey fussed. “We’ll be right back after we get Rumi her tonics.”

You nodded and smiled before the girl gave you a tight hug, almost squeezing all the air out of your lungs. You gave a quick wave to the three girls in their disguises before they headed off down an ally.

You were thrilled to finally be out of the house and able to go round some shops on your own for once. It was one thing to know you were protected but it felt like you were a child being babysat, never able to go and do things on your own.

Before you could head off to some shops a bright poster taped up on a wall caught your eye. The bright yellow and pink poster with a giant minimalist lion head in the middle could catch anyone's attention.

“The Saja Boys?” You heard somebody else walking by read off the poster.

You raised an eyebrow reading the smaller print on the poster:

Come and see our first performance in front of the mall at 11am!

You grabbed your phone and quickly checked the time, 10:45am. A smile crept across your face as you made your way over to the mall, no way they would be as good as your adopted sister but it gave you something to do other than collect a huge stash of candy and snacks.

As you reached the space in front of the mall a weird feeling washed over you, a shiver going all the way up your spine. The sound of your own heartbeat filled your ears, the world around you suddenly seeming darker than before. Your hands found their way to your head trying to ground yourself as you felt a slight bit dizzy, that was the moment you heard music.

Your eyes flicked up seeing a huge puff of pink smoke that slowly revealed 5 men. You felt the beat of the song pulse through your whole body as they started their choreography. The one you assumed was the lead vocalist started the first verse of the song and your body froze.

The dark haired man was gorgeous but that wasn’t what made you freeze it was like your body was acting on instinct; something felt wrong.

You tore your eyes away from the boy band and looked at the crowd around you. People seemed to be awestruck and gathering closer unable to ignore the cute boyband and their bright pastel colours. You spotted Zoey, Rumi and Mira nearby also staring at the boys though they looked more angry and steeled compared to everyone around them.

You quickly tried to make your way to them through the crowd but your feet didn’t want to move. Your gaze flicked back over to the boys as they began the chorus of their song. You made eye contact with one of the boys, his blue eyes staring into you. His eyes almost seemed to change colour as you stared into them, a flash of yellow making you do a double take. Were they demons? Or were you seeing things?

You shook your head and forced yourself to look away. You needed to get out of here if they were demons, they would be all too aware of your scent. You willed your legs to move at last and pushed through the crowd, your body filled with adrenaline.

Rumi was the first to notice you coming and she immediately grabbed your hand. As soon as you caught her gaze you knew it was demons, no way she’d be so worried about you if they were just normal people.

“Are they…” You whispered wanting confirmation.

Rumi nodded at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze as she looked back over at the performance.

You frowned but also looked back over at the men. Something made you feel uneasy, it took a while to realise it was because whichever one you glanced at seemed to be staring directly at you. Five pairs of eyes watching you, waiting for you to be alone so they could steal your soul.

You averted your eyes for the rest of the performance unable to deal with the attention you were getting from the demon band. You were only able to breathe a sigh of release when they disappeared in a puff of pink smoke just like at the start of their performance.

“It’s okay (y/n) we’re going to find them tonight and we’ll take them out before they do anything.” Rumi told you, a determined look in her eyes.

“Yeah and we already know where they’re going to be tonight.” Mira said flexing her hand as if she was ready to slay the boy band immediately.

“Yeah.” You agreed, though the butterflies in your stomach didn’t stop, in fact they only seemed to get worse.

@ffcfffr @whimsiecat @gremlinartstudio @chugjugg @aerissblog @kitkatpattywack2808 @airwolf92 @fries11 @doggyteam2028 @downbadgirlypoo @kashasenpai

[andvys]

the edges of your soul (i haven’t seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter nine

⭐︎ Pull the trigger on the gun I gave you when we met

warnings: fluff, post apocalypse au, alcohol consumption, drinking game, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, mention of virginity, hurt/no comfort (i guess?), angst, sunshine x grumpy, jealousy jealousy jealousy

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: during a game of never have i ever you find out things you weren’t prepared for

word count: 9k+

authors note: i wrote this part in two days, that’s how excited i was to write it hehe. shoutout to @hellfire--cult as always 🤍 we came up with this chapter months ago and now it’s finally here! roe added the last bit aka THE PAINFUL ONE! I am so excited for the upcoming chapters hehe

series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

The air is crisp. The wind is cold and harsher now than it was a few weeks ago. The first snow started falling about a week ago, making the journey a lot harder and slower, which isn’t in your favor at all. You want to go home sooner rather than later. You have already lost so much time, when you were alone and even now too. Your sickness slowed you down, slowed them down. 

You are much better now. The fever had gone down five days into your antibiotic treatment. Your cough is still there, not as strongly as it was before but it’s there. On top of that, you don’t perform as well as you used to before the sickness. You get tired quickly, your muscles get sore and you struggle to breathe. 

Nancy told you that it’s normal, that it might take a longer while for you to recover fully. Her brother Mike suffered for nearly two months after falling sick with pneumonia, carrying an inhaler with him at all times, just like you do too, now. 

It frustrates you a little, because now they all watch you like hawks to make sure that you are not moving around too much. You are not allowed to go on runs or scavenge areas, at least not until you’re healthy again. Steve is scavenging with Eddie now mostly, but today Nancy joined him instead, leaving you and Eddie to stand guard on the snowy parking lot. 

You don’t mind. You like spending time alone with Eddie, but you want to do something. Not being able to help is driving you crazy. 

You play with the hair tie around your wrist, the one that Steve left on you, the one you haven’t taken off yet because he told you to keep it when you tried to give it back. You didn’t question where he got it or whose it was. You have a hunch. 

“Fucking Nebraska.” Eddie murmurs as he leans against the side of the RV, looking up into the grey sky. 

“What’s wrong with Nebraska?” You ask, chuckling. 

Eddie shrugs at you, raising his axe, and he points all around at the snow. “That.” 

“Nebraska isn’t the only state that’s covered in snow right now, Eddie.” You smile in amusement. You rub your glove covered hands together as you turn your body towards him. 

He narrows his eyes at you, sighing loudly. 

“Yeah well, we should have been in uh… Wyoming, Idaho or freaking Utah by now but instead we’re stuck in this godforsaken state. I swear it’s only gonna bring us bad luck.” 

You furrow your eyebrows and giggle at him, shaking your head. 

“This state is really on your most hated list, huh?” 

Eddie scoffs as he turns to face you. His cheeks are red, his nose is too. His bottom lip is trembling from the cold. A few snowflakes adorn his curls. 

“Yup.” 

“Well… if it makes you feel any better… It took me a year to get to Indiana from New York,” you admit, shrugging. “Something always gets in the way. Just like now, if it isn’t the blocked roads then it’s the time we use for scavenging. If it isn’t that, then it’s the time we spend looking for gas… and if it isn’t that then… It's a sickness.” You sigh, looking down at your feet as you kick the snow on the ground. 

Eddie’s eyes soften. Sympathy flashes in them. You felt guilty for falling sick, for slowing them down, for being a ‘burden’ as you had called yourself. He felt a little angry for the way you talked about yourself, for the way you thought you had to apologize for not feeling well.  

A soft huff falls from his lips as he bumps his shoulder into yours. He reaches for your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. 

“Sweetheart, if you mention that one more time… I swear to Ozzy I will eat all your Kitkat’s.” 

Your dimples show when your lips curl into a smile. You shake your head at him, looking back into his eyes with a mean look on your face. You raise your hand up and point your finger at him. 

“Not my Kitkat’s.” You threaten, making him chuckle. 

Eddie grins at you. 

“Stop feeling guilty and I won’t steal your candy, Sweets. It’s simple.” He shrugs. 

You roll your eyes at him and he gasps at that, looking at you offended. He throws his hand to his chest and leans back. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Sunshine?” He asks shocked, using the nickname Steve calls you by. 

You shake your head at his act, giggling at his dramatics. You lean down and sink your hand into the snow, scooping some up into your hand. You move back up, smirking evilly at him before you throw it at his face. 

“You’re such a dork, Eddie Munson.” 

Another louder gasp falls from his lips when the coldness hits his skin and he stares at you bewildered. He brings his hand up to his face and wipes away the snow that is now stuck to his skin. 

You are slowly backing away, eyes glinting with amusement as you giggle loudly. 

“You did not just…” He glares at you, taking a step towards you. “You little witch.”

Your eyes widen when he leans down and scoops some snow onto his palm before he charges at you. A squeal falls from your lips as you turn around quickly, trying to run from him. 

“Oh, now you’re trying to run?” Eddie chuckles loudly behind you. “Don’t you wanna finish this little snowball fight?” 

“Nope!” You giggle loudly, hoping that Steve won’t come out of the store and catch you and Eddie running around like little kids. 

“Come here!” 

“Nuh uh!” 

You make the mistake of looking back at him, not controlling your steps like you should. Your foot catches onto ice under a layer of snow and you suddenly lose your balance, slipping on the ice with both feet. You try to steady yourself but to no avail, you are falling. Though you don’t feel the rough concrete underneath you like you were expecting. Instead you fall on something soft… well, softer than the concrete would have felt. 

“Oof…”

Only when you’re on the ground and you feel the arms around your waist and your head protected against a chest, do you realize that you didn’t fall on the ground because Eddie caught you and you landed on top of him instead while he took the fall for you both. 

“Ow…” He murmurs underneath you, grunting at the pain in his back. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble as the shock wears off and you quickly turn around to face him, not getting up just yet. Your eyes are wide and your face is serious, at least until you look at him and all the snow in his hair. 

You stare at each other in silence, breathing heavily. His lip twitches first and then yours follows suit. His eyes flash with amusement and before you know it, you both burst into laughter.

Tension falls off your shoulders. Tension you didn’t realize you even had. But this feels good, you can’t remember the last time you laughed. Especially like this, to the point of tears. 

“Goddamn, you’re a klutz,” Eddie laughs as he leans his head back into the snow, not caring anymore at this point. 

You shake your head, unable to stop the laughter that keeps falling from your lips. 

Eddie lets go of your waist and brings his hand up to your back, patting it softly. 

“Are you okay?” 

You bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the stray tear that escaped from your eyes. You nod at his question. 

“I had a safe fall,” you giggle before it gets cut off by a cough.

Eddie continues to pat your back. He presses his palm against the snowy ground and pushes himself up into a seating position, grunting a bit. You turn away from him and cough into your elbow, clenching your eyes shut. 

“Shit, Sweets.” He mumbles. “Do you need your inhaler?” 

You shake your head at him. Once you calm down, you press your hand against your chest and turn back to face him. Your eyes are a little glassy from all the coughing. 

Eddie’s eyes soften, he gives you a tight lipped smile as he pats your back one last time. 

“No laughing for you anymore, young lady.” He gives you a pointed look. 

You snort and roll your eyes. 

“Hey guys, we–” Steve halts in his tracks suddenly when he finds you on the ground with Eddie. His face falls and his eyes flash with confusion when he takes in the position you’re in – Eddie is sitting up on the ground while you are on top of him, in his lap. By the look on Eddie’s state, he knows you both must have slipped and fallen but how did you get to that point in the first place? And why is Eddie’s arm around your waist? 

He clenches his jaw without realizing it. The sourness inside of him spreads quickly, burning in his chest and taking over his whole body. He clenches his fists around the basket he is holding, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He stares at Eddie’s hand and how he places it on your hip. Eyes burning with anger. 

Steve doesn’t like this and he doesn’t even realize why. 

Your head snaps towards Steve and you frown at the look on his face. Before you even begin to question it, your eyes fall on the basket he is holding and curiosity gets the best of you. You carefully get off Eddie and place your feet back on the ground, accepting his hand that he offers to you. 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together strongly and the fire in him spreads further and up to his face, causing his cheeks to redden. 

You don’t notice but Eddie does, especially when he catches Steve watching how you help him up. How you remove the snow from his jacket and his cheek, making sure that he is clean again before you make your way towards him. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows in surprise, seeing the glare that is directed at him, the murderous gaze. If looks could kill, he would drop dead by now. If he didn’t consider Steve to be one of his best friends, he would have feared him right now. But Eddie only feels smugness and amusement. 

If jealousy had a name, it would be Steve Harrington. 

Eddie’s lip curls into a smirk, and he snickers under his breath. 

“This is too good,” he murmurs under his breath. He is gonna tease him. Oh yeah. He is gonna enjoy this one. 

“What’d you find?” You ask cheerfully as you make your way towards him, smiling brightly already. 

Steve looks away from Eddie and down at you. His eyes instantly soften when they meet yours. The sourness remains in his chest but something else spreads even quicker… warmth. 

You grab the edge of the basket with both hands and peek inside. Your smile falls and your eyes widen. A gasp of excitement falls from your lips when you catch sight of the knitted scarf. 

You look up at him, mustering up your best puppy eyes. 

“Can I have that one?” You plead. 

Steve’s heart skips a beat at the look on your face. Those eyes. He feels his knees falling weak every time you look at him like this. 

He swallows the growing lump in his throat and he nods. 

He almost wants to laugh at your question though. He spent fifteen minutes picking out a scarf for you. He didn’t want just any one. He grabbed the pink one at first before he caught sight of this one. He was unaware of Nancy’s smug face. 

“I picked it out for you.” He mumbles, lip curling upwards when your wide eyes meet his again. 

“You did!?” You nearly squeal as you grab it from the basket, jumping on your feet slightly as you wrap it around yourself. 

Steve’s eyes sparkle as he takes in the pure happiness on your features, all because of a pastel yellow colored scarf. 

“How’d you know this was my favorite color?” You ask, feeling the fluttering of your heart so strongly at this moment, especially when you look into his hazel eyes. 

Steve feels caught and he sinks into himself a little. Heat creeps up to his cheeks and he grows flustered… embarrassed. He clears his throat, shifting from one foot to another. 

He clears his throat, wanting to punch Eddie now more than ever as he catches sight of the smug bastard in the back. 

“I honestly didn’t know… I– I just… remembered you said you had a sunflower field behind your house, so I thought…” he trails off and looks back down into your eyes. They are sparkling for him. Your smile is wider than it was in weeks. You’re happy. “Good to know, though…”

Your heart skips a beat, and your stomach flutters wildly. He remembered your sunflower field? You told him that in the very beginning, when he didn’t even talk back much, when you just rambled his ear off. You didn’t even think he listened to you, let alone remember what you talked about to him. 

“Thank you so much, Stevie!” You smile widely as you take a step closer to him. You rise to your tippy toes and grab onto his shoulder as you press your lips to his cheek, pecking it softly. 

Steve freezes. He tenses up. Not because he didn’t like it but because he did. He liked it. He liked the feeling of your lips on his skin. A little too much. 

You pull away and brush past him when you notice Nancy coming out of the store, carrying two bags. You leave him standing with glowing cheeks. 

The need to escape takes over and despite feeling like his feet are glued to the ground, he forces himself to make his way towards the RV, ignoring the racing in his chest. 

He walks past Eddie but not without sending a glare towards him. He reaches into the basket, and picks out the grey beanie, throwing it at the metalhead without a single word. 

Eddie catches it before it hits him in the face. A loud snicker falls from his mouth when he realizes why Steve is so salty and why his cheeks are like the color of a ripe tomato. He follows him. Of course he does. Eddie sees the perfect opportunity. 

“Thanks for that, man.” Eddie holds up the beanie. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Steve grumbles under his breath. He throws the door open to the RV and steps inside. Dropping the basket on the table, he starts taking out the cans of food he found and starts stacking them up in the cabinets. 

Eddie leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“What were you two doing out there?” Steve asks after two minutes of silence. 

“Had a little snowball fight.” That is an exaggeration, and he knows it, but he wants to see Steve’s reaction. “And then we fell.” 

Eddie can’t see his face. Steve’s back is turned to him as he fills up the cabinets. Though he can see how he tenses up and falters a little. 

“Right…” Steve scoffs. “She fell on your lap?” 

There it is. Eddie is surprised; that was quick. 

He doesn’t bother hiding his snickering. He pushes himself off the wall and moves up beside him, tilting his head at the former jock. He smiles smugly when he sees the clenched jaw. 

“Is that jealousy, Big Boy?” 

Steve narrows his eyes at him. He grips the edges of the counter and slowly turns to face him. 

“I’m just…–”

“You’re just what, Steve? Jealous?” Eddie cackles, enjoying this far more than he should. He raises his hand up and places it on Steve’s chest, patting it roughly. “Don’t worry, man. She is all yours, I promise.” 

Steve huffs and he shakes his head, opening his mouth to speak. 

“Yellow is her favorite color huh? I didn’t know that. You didn’t either, she didn’t even tell you–”

“Stop.” Steve sighs. He brings his hand up to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. The tension in his shoulders rises when he realizes the weight of Eddie’s words. Deep down he knows he is right, he knows it. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it. He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to admit it. He fears it. He can’t have those feelings. He can’t allow himself to care more than he does right now. He knows where this will end – how it almost ended a few weeks ago. If he allows these feelings, if he lets them out only for something to happen… he will never recover. 

The smug look on Eddie’s face falls when he realizes the seriousness of this situation as he reads the look on his face. 

Steve is holding back. He is holding back out of fear, not realizing that this could potentially make everything so much worse. 

“Steve…” Eddie sighs as his hand moves to grip his shoulder. “I know what you’re trying to do here–”

“Don’t.” Steve warns him. Like he doesn’t want to hear it, like he doesn’t want to even consider his words. “Just don’t, Munson.” 

He couldn’t even finish the sentence. He couldn’t even utter a single word and it frustrated him a little but he also understands it. 

“Fine…” Eddie sighs, and he lets his hand fall back to his side. 

Steve takes a deep breath. He runs his fingers through the mess of his head. His hair got so long in the past few months. The past self of him would be mortified at the sight of him now. 

Steve glances at Eddie. He can’t stand the sympathetic look in his dark eyes. He doesn’t want to be pitied. 

“You know what you need–”

Steve rolls his eyes and he pulls back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I said don’t–”

“Hear me out, will you?” Eddie mumbles in annoyance. He rolls his eyes back at him and turns around, opening the cabinet where you have put all the special things. He reaches for the bottle. A grin spreads on his face before he turns around. He holds it up with a wiggle of his brows. 

Steve shakes his head, “nope.”

“Oh yeah.” Eddie nods and by the look of his determined face, Steve knows he will lose this argument. “You gotta let loose a little. Swallow those feelings down with a little help of my former best friend.” Eddie grins at the whiskey bottle. 

Steve sighs. 

“We’ll play a little drinking game… and who knows, maybe we’ll find out some dirty truths from your girl's past.” Eddie cackles. 

“She’s not my–”

The door bursts open and you come rushing in, carrying one of the bags you grabbed off Nancy’s shoulder. You halt in your tracks and look between them. The frustrated gaze in Steve’s eyes and the excited one in Eddie’s tells you everything you need to know. 

Nancy comes stumbling in behind you. 

Eddie turns towards you, smirking at the two of you as he holds up the whiskey bottle. 

“Wanna play a game?” 

-

The fire keeps you brittle warm, allowing your cheeks to burn a little. The cold doesn’t even touch you right now, you’re so close to the heat. The bowl of soup is warm in your hands. You keep glancing towards Steve as you watch him eat. 

Eddie is rambling his ear off about DnD, something Steve couldn’t care less about. He keeps humming and grumbling in response. 

Nancy had already finished her dinner. She is rubbing her hands over the fire, warming herself up. 

You found a little hidden spot, behind trees and ruins, allowing you to let the flames burn higher than usual. Allowing you to feel a little more comfortable. You did a perimeter check with Steve before dinner, and he demanded to do it slowly for you, and this area seemed pretty safe and clean. 

“So… how about some good ‘ol never have I ever?” Eddie smirks as he picks up the bottle of whiskey he carried outside before. 

Your eyes light up. The urge to let loose, even if just for one night, for a few hours is so big. You nod at him, putting your now empty bowl on the ground beside your feet. 

“Yes, please!” 

Nancy chuckles at the enthusiastic smile on your face. Eddie’s eyes lock with hers and she shrugs at him, mumbling “sure.” 

Eddie grins at her, knowing she wouldn’t have given in so easily in the past. She sure has changed. 

He looks at Steve last to find him staring at you. Eddie knows that he is curious, it’s in his eyes. 

“I’m not drinking—“

“Oh come on!” Eddie groans, throwing his head back.

“If I am willing to drink then you gotta do it too, Steve!” Nancy says, shrugging at him. 

“Someone’s gotta stay sober.”

“Not like we’re gonna get blackout drunk, man. Besides the area is safe—“

Steve sighs, shaking his head. “You can never know.”

“Steve…” You sigh, pulling the attention on you. You tilt your head to the side, pouting at him. “Please…”

Steve huffs softly. 

Your features, your skin, your hair look so soft in this light. The golden flames make you look even more beautiful. Something flutters in his chest when you bat your eyelashes at him. 

He breathes in shakily, and by the way Eddie snickered beside him, he knows he heard it. 

Steve clears his throat as he shakes his head. 

“You’re not drinking either, Sunshine. You’re still coming down from your sickness and you’re still on pain meds.” He says sternly. 

Now your frown and your pout deepens. Your stomach sinks a little and the excitement wears off instantly. 

“Oh… right.” You whisper. 

Steve watches the way your face falls and your shoulders slump. A saddening look flashes in your features. He is surprised to see you giving up so easily, he expected you to put up a bit of a fight. 

“Shit,” Eddie murmurs. He didn't think about it either. 

You sigh deeply. You look between all of them and straighten your back again. 

“You can still play!” 

Steve can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt bubbling up inside of him. He saw how excited you were when Eddie suggested the game. 

“Hold on,” Steve mumbles as he pushes himself up from his seat. He disappears into the RV, making you all frown in confusion. You hear some rustling, some cans moving around before he comes out again, holding a can of Dr. Pepper in his hand. He makes his way to you, lips curling into a small smile. He holds it out for you. “I know it’s not the same but… you– we can still play.” 

You stare at the red soda can in his hand. Your soft eyes light up as you look up at him. 

His throat bobs when he swallows nervously. His heart skips yet another beat as he looks down into your eyes. 

Steve couldn’t care less about the game. If it wasn’t for you, he would call it a day and go to sleep. 

“Yeah,” he whispers softly. 

You are both unaware of the eye contact Nancy and Eddie are holding. To the looks on their faces and of the mischief crossing Eddie’s face as he grabs the plastic cups he had already prepared before. He unscrews the lid and pours the whiskey. 

“Thank you,” you whisper as you take the soda from Steve’s hands. Blush rises to your cheeks and your hand warms even more when your fingers brush against his own. 

Steve only smiles at you before he makes his way back to his seat. He curls his fingers into his hand, clenching it tightly as he still feels the mark of your touch. A sigh leaves his mouth when he sinks back into his camping chair. 

Eddie holds the cup out to him, and Steve only accepts it reluctantly. 

“Don’t think too much,” Eddie says to him. “It’s gonna be good for you, trust me.” 

“If you say so.” Steve snorts as he accepts the cup. He can’t remember the last time he even smelled alcohol. 

A pop sounds through the circle as you open the can. You bring your knees up to your chest and tug the blanket tighter around you, getting comfortable as giddiness rushes through your body. This reminds you of high school… only this is even better. You’re around friends. 

Eddie puts the bottle back down after handing Nancy her cup. He leans back and looks around the circle, smirking at Steve – the latter already knowing that this means nothing good. 

“So…” Eddie starts, wiggling his eyebrows. “Who’s starting?”

Steve sinks deeper into his seat, he looks down at his drink, sloshing it around in the cup. 

“Never have I ever played DnD.” Nancy says, making both you and Steve chuckle. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as he brings the cup up to his lips. 

“You’re doing me a favor here, Wheeler.” 

Before he can even down the drink like he had planned to do, Steve leans forward and grabs Eddie’s wrist, “hold on. You ain’t downing that drink. We’re not in high school going home safe after. Doesn’t matter how safe this area seems to you, we’re still in the middle of nowhere… during the goddamn end of the world. We’re taking sips, not shots.” 

Steve’s face is stern as he lectures Eddie, who looks like a kid getting scolded by his father. 

You can’t help but giggle. 

“Okay, dad.” Eddie mumbles with wide eyes. “Sips, not shots, got it.” 

Nancy laughs at their interaction. 

Eddie takes a sip, keeping his eyes on Steve, who watches him closely, warning him with his eyes. 

“See.” Eddie shows him the cup. “I just took a sip.” 

“Good.” Steve grumbles before he leans back into his seat. 

Eddie turns back to Nancy, grinning evilly. “Alright Wheeler. Never have I ever… gotten straight A’s in high school.” 

A groan falls from her lips, she rolls her eyes at his lame attempt at making her drink. She brings the cup up to her lips and takes a sip. 

Steve glances at you, expecting you to take a sip as well but you don’t. Your can remains propped up on your knees. 

“No A’s?” Eddie raises his brows at you. “I’m surprised.” 

You shrug. “The best I got were B’s.” 

“Something I could only ever dream of.”

Nancy rolls her eyes at him again, “you were just lazy, Eddie.” 

“Are you saying I’m smart, Nancy Wheeler?” He smirks at her. 

“I’m saying you could have been better, dumbass.” 

Eddie waves her off and looks between you and Steve, “who’s next?”

Steve shrugs and gestures to you, holding his cup. 

You blush a little when he flashes you a smile. You tug your blanket tighter to you and look back into the fire. 

“Um… never have I ever…” You pause, trying to think of something you have always wanted to do. “Gone on a picnic date…?”

Eddie sits still, not bringing the cup up to his lips. Steve is not drinking either. The three of you glance at each other before you all look towards Nancy, who is the only one to take a sip of the whiskey. She scrunches up her face at the bitter taste. 

A sullen look takes over her face and if you didn’t look close enough, you would have missed the way her eyes flashed with sadness before she took that sip. She breathes in sharply and clears her throat before she plasters a smile onto her face as she looks back to you. 

“You have never gone on a picnic date?” 

Steve glances at you too with curious eyes. 

You shake your head. You always wanted to go but no one ever asked you out. Your ex-boyfriend always told you that he wasn’t a fan of date nights – must have been because he was too busy taking other girls out. 

Steve’s chest pains a little at the saddened look on your face. 

“No, but anyways… It’s your turn, Steve!” 

Steve blinks as he stares at you, your eyes now gazing into his. His cheeks flush under the weight of your eyes. He shifts on his chair. 

“Uh…” He can’t focus when you look at him, especially with that little tilt in your head and the innocent eyes. He looks down, at the crackling wood and the golden flames. His heart skipping a little harder. This is ridiculous. “Never have I ever uh…” 

What stupid thing would Robin say? 

What silly line would escape her mouth? 

“Been arrested…?”

Eddie chuckles loudly beside him. “See for someone who doesn’t want me to get drunk, you sure are doing a bad job, Harrington.” He laughs before he takes a big sip of his whiskey. 

You gasp and lean forward, “how, when, where, why?” You ramble. 

Steve’s shoulders shake when laughter escapes him at the look on your face. The wide eyes and the dropped jaw. 

“Oh, Sweetheart…” Eddie trails off. “I got arrested several times.”

“For what!?” 

“For being an idiot!” Nancy chuckles. She witnessed it herself once, Hopper running after a handcuffed Eddie who somehow managed to escape before he was forced into the cop car. 

“Then Jonathan must’ve been an idiot too!” Eddie scoffs. “Didn’t you get arrested with him!?” 

She shakes her head at him, “nope. I just went to the station with him.” 

You don’t notice the way Steve looks away, awkwardly and tense at the current conversation. 

“Why are you all getting arrested!?” You ask, confused. 

Nancy shrugs at you. 

You glance at Steve and raise your eyebrows at him, “did you get arrested too?” 

He purses his lips and shakes his head, “nope. Always managed to get away before the cops were at the crime scene.” He jokes. 

You roll your eyes at him but chuckle softly. 

“So I’m friends with a bunch of criminals, is that it?” You joke.

“Oh yeah.” Eddie nods his head, making his curls bounce. “Bet you’re the worst of us all though.” He points his finger at you. 

You press your palm against your chest, humming. “Cold blooded killer, you said it before.” You joke, looking at him seriously. 

“Exactly.” 

The game continues and the lines get sillier as Eddie keeps refilling the cups with Whiskey. You notice how the tension in Steve’s shoulders disappears after a few bigger sips of the liquor, how the redness in his cheeks glows stronger beneath the orange hues of the campfire. Your heart flutters every time his eyes flash with amusement, with happiness. Every time his laughter echoes, you feel something in you heating up in a way it never has before. 

For a moment, the world out there is gone. It’s just the four of you, being normal people. You aren’t out here trying to survive. You aren’t out here surrounded by death. You aren’t out here barely pushing through this world. Right now, you can be a group of friends having fun… just that. And you enjoy it so much. You have never felt more welcomed than you do with them. 

Nancy’s eyes shine with tears of laughter as Eddie continues his story of the girl who threw up on his shoes when he tried flirting with her. His goal was to ask her out on a date, not realizing that she was fully drunk until it was too late. 

“God… why do you always have the lamest dating stories, Munson?” Steve laughs, blinking away his own tears. 

“That poor girl! She must have been so embarrassed!” You mumble, trying not to giggle as much. 

“Sweetheart, I threw up right after. We were both embarrassed.” 

You break into laughter again, though your face cringes in disgust at the image of it in your head. 

“Did you ever see her again, after?” Steve asks, his lips twitching as he tries to stop laughing. 

“Yeah, in the school hallway. It was awkward as hell.” Eddie admits with wide eyes. 

“God…” Nancy mumbles, amused. She leans back and tilts her head up, looking up into the sky with a lazy smile on her lips. 

“Yeah…” Eddie chuckles to himself as he looks into the fire. His finger traces the rim of his cup. 

For a moment, silence takes over. Only the crackling of the wood is heard around you. You watch the flames too, contentment filling you. 

You don’t notice his eyes on you or the way they scan your face, the way they look at you. You don’t realize that he is smiling or that his eyes are sparkling. If only you looked up. 

“Never have I ever had sex.” Eddie snorts, knowing he will make everyone drink this time. 

“Of course,” Nancy snorts and straightens up in her seat again, bringing the cup to her lip, she finishes the remains of her whiskey. 

Steve rolls his eyes as he follows suit, finishing the last bit of his drink. He turns to face you and a frown appears on his face. 

Eddie notices the look on his face when he has taken the biggest gulp of the night. 

You avoid their eyes, blushing furiously as you continue to stare into the fire. Your shoulders, your whole body is tense. Embarrassment is written all over your face. You sit still. The soda can frozen in your lap. You haven’t taken a single sip and you don’t plan on taking one as your fingers play with the loose string on your blanket. 

Steve’s eyes widen when the realization hits him. 

Oh. 

Nancy’s lips part in surprise, her eyes soften when she sees just how flustered you are. 

Eddie is the last to realize but when he does, he nearly chokes on the whiskey. He gulps down and coughs a little. Bringing his hand up to his chest as his wide eyes search for yours. 

“You… You’re a virgin, Sweetheart?” He gasps, knowing he should be approaching the topic a little more gently but he is too shocked, too intoxicated to let that rational voice in his head tell him what to do. 

Eddie is flabbergasted. 

And Steve… Steve’s eyes are filled with confusion and disbelief. His heart is pounding in his chest. How?  

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry but… how?”

Eddie asks the question that repeats itself in Steve’s mind. 

You bite your lip and look at him, avoiding Steve’s eyes. You feel too embarrassed. 

“You’re not fucking with us, are you?” Eddie squints his eyes, finding it hard to believe. 

“Nope.” 

“But… You said you had a boyfriend!” Those words come tumbling out of Steve’s mouth. 

Eddie’s and Nancy’s heads snap towards him. This is something they didn’t know about you. 

You roll your eyes and huff, “just because I had a boyfriend doesn’t mean that I slept with him. Besides… that was the exact reason why he told me I was immature… the exact reason why he cheated on me.” You mumble, looking down. 

Steve’s eyes harden at that. His chest burns with rage over that prick that was given the chance to date you only to fuck you over. 

Nancy leans forward, her protectiveness kicking in, shooting off the roof. 

“He cheated on you because you weren’t ready to sleep with him?” She scoffs, slurring her words a bit. Her blue eyes burn with anger for someone she doesn’t even know. “What– Men! Men fucking suck!” 

You smile a little. 

Eddie moves closer and pats Nancy’s back. 

“Hey, not all of us are bad,” Eddie chuckles. 

Steve looks down at his cup. His heart aches at the thought of how you felt back then. He knows your heart was crushed and you were devastated. You don’t have to tell him that for him to know. 

“I hope he died. Gruesomely. Fucked in the ass by an infected–”

You crack up at her words. The tension slips away as amusement takes over and you and Eddie start laughing loudly at her. 

Steve leans forward, he puts the empty cup down and presses his palms together, entwining his fingers. He glances at you, his eyes tracing your features while you are distracted. 

“So uh… nothing?” Eddie asks after your laughter dies down. His curiosity gets the best of him. His eyes keep glancing towards Steve to catch his reactions. 

You shake your head shyly. 

Nancy eyes you, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable talking about this. 

“No… It’s not like I don’t have the need…” You admit, surprising yourself even. But you feel safe talking about this, comfortable. Like you won’t get judged. “I mean– I had my own you know…”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, playing coy, playing dumb. 

Steve straightens up a bit, nerves growing wild inside of him as he stares at you. 

Eddie bows his head a little. “No? I know what?”

You avoid Steve’s eyes still. Heat rises to your cheeks, not from the fire but from the embarrassment inside of you. From talking about this in front of the guy you… you like. 

You blink. Tapping your fingers against your knee. 

“A helper…?”

Eddie almost bursts into laughter. He enjoys seeing you like this. He enjoys the way Steve is cracking his knuckles beside him, shifting on his chair. 

Nancy licks her lips, holding back her smile when she realizes what he is doing, when she realizes how red Steve’s cheeks are. 

Frustration bubbles up inside of you when you notice the mischief flashing in Eddie’s brown eyes. 

“For fucks sake! A vibrator! A fucking vibrator!” 

Nancy giggles loudly beside you. She is definitely gonna bring that up later. 

Steve nearly falls over. His heart almost beats out of his chest. His eyes are glued on you. Heat spreads across his whole body and before he can even stop it, images start cursing through his mind. Images of you… of you on your bed, of your hands on your body, on your bare body that he had seen already. The realization strikes that he was the first to see you like this, to touch your soft skin, to hold you. 

Suddenly his heart does more than just flutter. 

Eddie smirks at you. His shoulders shake. 

“Yeah, just wanted to make sure it was that.” 

You roll your eyes at him. 

“You fucking dick!”

Nancy and he chuckle at you, sharing amused glances. 

“Now…” You start after a moment of silence. “I don’t know if it’ll ever happen, and I regret not giving my virginity to my ex…” You admit a little shamefully. 

The three of them look at you in question. 

“Why do you say it won’t?” Steve asks. 

You chuckle softly and shrug as you look up at Steve, “look around us, Steve. It’s the end of the world… I could die tomorrow and I think it’s obvious to say that the chances of finding someone in the apocalypse are pretty scarce.” 

They all fall silent, looking at you with pity – something that you don’t want, something that you hate. 

But they notice that you are actually afflicted by it. 

Eddie narrows his eyes, shifting in his seat. He looks at Steve, noticing the way he watches you intently. A sliver of yearning in his hazel eyes. 

If he doesn’t take the chance… 

Eddie clears his throat. Licking his lips, he looks back at you. 

“Listen, if I didn’t have my sweetheart, I’d offer to make your first time the best night of your life,” he says cockily. A smirk tugging at his lips when he feels Steve’s angry eyes on him. 

You don’t even pay much attention to his comment. You nearly give yourself a whiplash by how fast you turn towards him. 

“You have a sweetheart!? Wait! Are you talking about your guitar? You showed me pictures of it and–”

“Of course not my guitar!” Eddie interrupts you, grinning. “I have my love waiting for me in California!”

Your eyes lighten up and you sit up straighter, curious to hear about his love story. 

But Steve and Nancy roll their eyes and groan. 

“Don’t listen to him, he never wanted to tell us… so obviously he is bluffing.” Nancy murmurs. “If he had a sweetheart we would have known about her or him!” 

Eddie scoffs, though the smile on his face doesn’t disappear, instead it grows even wider. 

“Honestly Nancy… If I were really single, I would have tried my luck with this young lady I have in front of me the moment I saw her. She’s funny and sweet and she’s hot as hell. Who wouldn’t try to make a move on that piece of ass?” 

Your eyes widen, and you instantly grow flustered, cheeks burning like crazy. 

The bitter taste on Steve’s tongue returns and he can’t even hide his frown this time when he looks at the metalhead beside him, only to realize that he fell right into his trap. Eddie is already looking back at him with a smug smirk on his face. 

Nancy is watching you, how you flush all over while you sip your soda. She holds back her smile, thinking that it’s cute. 

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I see you as nothing more than a friend.” He makes the message very clear… to Steve. 

Yet, it does little to calm him down. The same sour feeling as he felt before spreads through his chest. 

Silence fills the space around you for a moment and the air suddenly shifts. You don’t know what it is yet. You don’t notice the look on Nancy’s face and how the amusement slowly fades as the alcohol kicks in differently, affecting other kinds of emotions now. 

“Well.” Eddie looks around, clapping his hands together. “Anyone else got a confession to make?”

Steve shakes his head just like you. 

Nancy hesitates. A sullen look suddenly takes over, crossing over her features out of nowhere. She blinks rapidly as she stares into the fire, chewing on her bottom lip. 

“I love Robin.” 

You slowly look towards her, unlike Eddie who snaps his head into her direction, looking at her in surprise. 

But Steve, he already knew, well– he suspected it. He knew about Robin’s feelings. He knew that she fell in love with Nancy. He remembers how guilty she looked when she confessed to him, fearing that he would hate her for falling in love with his ex-girlfriend. He remembers how scared she was, how she looked at him, like she thought that she was about to lose her best friend. He hugged her then and promised that it was okay. His love for Nancy was in the past and it was never real love to begin with, nothing to mourn over. Puppy love. And the thing that happened back in ‘86 was nothing more than a moment of desperation to feel the only real thing he once thought he had. 

Eddie’s smile slowly fades, lips curling downwards as he stares at Nancy’s glossy eyes. She is his best friend but it’s something he didn’t know. It’s something she wasn’t ready to confess. To speak into the universe. To let out. 

“She… She confessed to me. She told me that she loves me… that she’s in love with me. And then she died…on the same day.” She whispers and bows her head to hide the tears that are about to slip down her cheeks. 

Steve breathes in shakily, he looks away and closes his eyes. 

“I never said it back.”

Your heart breaks for her. She kept it all to herself for such a long time, it must have been eating away at her. Her sniffles pains you even more. You lean forward and place your hand on her knee. 

“Shit…” Eddie whispers, staring at her with sad eyes as the realization slowly sinks in. “I didn’t know, Nance.”

“Yeah…” She whispers, not looking up just yet. “And now… I can never say it back.”

You don’t know what to say. Eddie doesn’t either. You’re both not even sure if words are what she needs or if she just needs to let this all out. 

“I-I honestly never made a move on her before that because I thought she hated me…” She confesses, talking without a filter now. Her emotions take control, guided by the alcohol in her system. 

You frown at her words, gripping her knee tighter as you try to see her face but it’s covered by her long hair. 

“Why would she hate you, Nancy?” 

Eddie looks between you both, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Because of what I did to Steve.” She whispers, slowly looking up at you. 

Anxiety builds up inside of you and you begin to feel nervous. 

“W-What did you do to Steve?”

Steve snaps his head towards the two of you, shaking his head with a panicked look on his face. “Nancy–”

“I cheated on him. Hurt him. I thought Robin would hardly forgive someone like that. That Robin wouldn’t even like someone that did that to her best friend… Even if that happened a long time ago…”

Steve closes his eyes with a sigh, murmuring a quiet ‘fuck’.

Eddie winces under his breath. 

You draw back instantly, your hand falling off her knee. You take in a sharp breath. The realization rushing through you coldly. You grip the soda can tighter and look down. 

Nancy was the girl he told you about. 

She was the one who hurt him, who broke his heart. 

All this time you have been traveling with them and you didn’t even know. 

You feel like a fool. 

And it’s sadness and insecurity that hits you the hardest. She was the girl. And you are nothing like her, not even in the slightest. 

Steve looks up at you slowly. He tries to catch a glimpse of your face but it’s tilted so far down.

You don’t know what to feel, what to think. 

How can he be around her? You’d never be able to travel with your ex-boyfriend who cheated on you, lied to you, acted like he loved you. You could never be around him, let alone be his friend… unless you still loved him. 

Suddenly it’s nausea that bubbles up. Your heart sinks to your stomach. And now you wonder, would you have known sooner if you just put two and two together? If you would have taken a closer look? 

“I never knew.” Eddie murmurs, patting her back. 

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” Nancy whispers. “A-And that’s all… that’s all I got to confess. What about you…? Do you have anything…?”

You suddenly feel suffocated and you no longer want to sit here in this circle. It’s all become too much and all these questions running through your head begin to drive you crazy. You want to be alone. You need to think. 

You clear your throat as you get up, picking up your discarded bowl from before and your empty soda can. You take a quick look around and force a smile on your face when Nancy looks up at you with her big eyes. 

“I’m gonna go to sleep. I’m tired and my head is starting to hurt again.” You lie. You avoid both Steve’s and Eddie’s eyes. 

“Oh.” Nancy mumbles, her shoulders slumping. 

“Good night.” You whisper before you brush past Steve, ignoring the way he looks up at you in concern. You quickly make your way into the RV and shut the door behind you before any of them can question you. 

You set everything down on the kitchen counter. Gripping the edges of it, you lean against it and close your eyes, sighing loudly. 

You are confused and shocked, not understanding how it all went over your head for months. You could have known sooner. You should have. You wish you did. 

A part of you wants to know more, the other part doesn’t. 

You clean up your bowl and put everything away before you make your way into the tiny bathroom to brush your teeth. You hurry, wanting to be asleep before anyone comes in to check on you. 

Not even the mint flavor of your toothpaste can get rid of the bitter taste on your tongue though. 

“Sunshine?” 

You almost groan in annoyance. Almost. You would have if it wasn’t him. You spit out the paste and rinse your mouth before you walk out. You plaster a smile on your face when you notice him standing by the kitchen counter. 

He offers you a smile, “I uh… are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

Your eyes soften. You press your lips together and shake your head, “no, I just… I wanna get some sleep.” 

He brings his hand up to the back of his neck as he nods, “alright…”

You don’t move and neither does he. 

Steve is so selfless. He’s so kind and sweet when he allows himself to be. He would do anything for his friends, showing you that he would do absolutely everything for the one he loves. There is not a single bad thing about him. So… how could she do this to him? 

“I’m–”

“So Nancy…” 

Steve can’t read the expression on your face nor can he figure out the emotion in your voice but if he didn’t know any better, he would think it is hurt… sadness. But why? 

“Yeah…” Steve whispers. 

He doesn’t know why he feels the urge to show you, to tell you that he doesn’t feel anything for Nancy, that he hasn’t felt anything for her in years, that he could never again. 

You swallow harshly and nod. You take a seat on the bench and he follows you after a second, sitting down beside you. 

“Do you…” You pause, not knowing if you’re actually ready to find out. 

“I don’t love her anymore if that’s what you think.” Steve confesses, wanting – needing you to know. 

He wishes he could ignore the way your shoulders slump in relief or the way your eyes fill with something that looks like hope. 

“No?”

He shakes his head, “no. It was uh… It was puppy love but not real love, if it makes sense?” 

“Oh.”

Steve takes a deep breath. He continues to look into your eyes, wanting to catch each and every one of your reactions. 

“It was the first time someone else… cared for me. That someone seemed to like me for me and not because I was this popular guy… I only knew loneliness thanks to my parents being complete assholes.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as though you’re in pain. The sympathy and the sadness the flashes in your eyes reminds him of Robin. 

Steve runs his fingers through his hair, swallowing the lump that grew in his throat. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” You frown, knowing how that ended for him. 

“It’s okay, Sunshine.” He shrugs, his whisper is soft. 

How could she look into his hazel eyes and not fall for him harder every day? How could she look at him and think that he wasn’t good enough? That there could be someone better out there? How could she look at him and not think that he was the best thing that’s ever happened to her? 

There is little distance between you and your hand finds his before you can even think rationally. 

Steve looks down at it. It’s not the first time he feels your touch like this. It’s also not the first time he feels that electric feeling cursing through him. 

“But then… Robin came.”

“Wait then… you for Robin–”

“God, no, no…” Steve shakes his head, interrupting you quickly. “She just… She just filled that loneliness, and it made me realize that I was just chasing Nancy… pretending to be in love… Just to noy feel alone again…” He explains, cringing a little. “And then, Robin kind of started dating this girl, and I felt that bit of bitterness inside of me cause she was spending a little less time with me.” 

You nod in understanding as he keeps talking. 

“I tried dating around as well… But nothing worked out, no one wanted me for anything other than sex.” 

You frown at his words, feeling anger and a sliver of jealousy burning in you. 

“So I kind of… set my eyes back on Nancy again, not because I still loved her but… She was just the closest thing I had to a ‘real’ relationship. It was dumb to chase her again, to go after someone who hurt me. It took me a moment to realize that there are other versions of love that can be fulfilling.” 

“Robin.” 

He gives you a small smile, tapping your hand with his finger. He eyes the lilac hair tie around your wrist. It’s yours now. For safekeeping. 

“Robin.” He nods. 

He stopped seeking her out when he let go of a love he thought was… love. Maybe it should calm you down a little but it doesn’t. 

“And now… that Robin is… gone?”

He knows what you’re asking. 

You want to know if he will do it again, if he will chase after her again. 

Steve shakes his head, humming. “I would never make that mistake again,” he chuckles, cringing at his younger self. “Besides, I don’t feel lonely.”

“Oh… Eddie and Nance?” You ask. 

You secretly hope that you are the reason for that he doesn’t feel lonely anymore. 

“No, I felt lonely with them too. I was… grumpy, remember?” He asks, cocking his eyebrow as his eyes flash with amusement. 

You shake your head, “then what–”

“You came.” He confesses. 

And it makes your heart flutter like crazy. Your eyes fill with so much hope. You straighten up and curl your hand around his as you gaze into his hazel eyes. 

“You are… as stubborn as Robin was.” He whispers. “You remind me of her.” 

Oh… 

And then it hits you. 

It hits you harder than anything else ever has before. 

He never liked you for you. 

He gave you a chance because you reminded him of the one person that meant everything to him. He gave you a chance because he saw her in you, because he could pretend. 

You were never to him what he is to you. 

You are a replacement. A placeholder. 

And here you thought you found someone who likes you for you. 

But of course not. 

How did you never see it? Every time he talked about Robin, every time that he mentioned a memory, and– His eyes, they are looking at your wrist. At the hair tie, and– It was him… he put that on you, and now you knew. This wasn’t just anyone’s hair tie… this was Robin’s.

Your hand slowly slips away from his, looking down at the floor. You caught feelings only to find out that he saw you as a replacement for his soulmate. For someone he thought of as family, as a sister. He sees you that way, he will always see you that way and not as a woman. Not as someone who can try to give the love he wants and needs. 

Because you are like Robin… and you are the opposite of Nancy.

You’ll never be like Nancy. She looks like… a woman, a strong woman that knows what she wants, that is experienced, that is mature, that knows how to handle most of the situations with a clear mind and you– You are reckless, a klutz like Eddie had called you, and you also were–

“You want a kitkat before bed, Sunshine?”

Immature.

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk @xxladymjxx

[enwoso]

the grumpiest day | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

-> based on this request

grumpy masterlist

it all started with a sock.

not even a missing one, not even a particularly dirty one. just a tiny, pink, glittery sock with a unicorn on it, abandoned halfway down the staircase.

and unfortunately for leah, it was the first thing she encountered at 7:36 a.m, barefoot and uncaffeinated.

she stepped on it. slid slightly. nearly died, in her humble opinion. "seriously?" she muttered, flicking it off her foot with the grace of a disgruntled cat. "y/n!"

from the living room, a small but unbothered voice replied, "it's mine! i was gonna pick it up, i swear!"

"really? cause it's lying in wait like a sock-shaped trap!"

there was a pause. then: "you're grumpy."

leah exhaled. "and you're messy." it having been a long two week break for the three of you. you being off school full of energy each day and the footballing season seeing alessia and leah with a few more days off. it had meant there had been a lot of bumping of heads, not even bad — more dramatic and unnecessary really.

upstairs, alessia spat toothpaste into the sink and froze mid-rinse. tilting her head like a dog who heard its favourite squeaky toy. trouble. it had begun. the grump-off and she hadn't even been able to have her morning coffee in peace before it began.

—

by 9:00 a.m, tensions had escalated to cold war levels.

you had refused leah's toast she'd made, 'it's crispy, not toast, it tastes like burnt air!' and then leah had outright banned cartoons 'i am not watchin' bluey again, i'd rather eat the glitter sock that nearly killed me this morning'

alessia, caught between the toddler hurricane and her grumbling girlfriend, tried her best to keep the peace with snacks, deep breathing, and that tight, diplomatic smile she wore during post-match interviews when she wanted to scream.

you sulked in your room with your crayons, scribbling something angrily while muttering, 'mama is not my best friend today.'

leah sulked in the living room, muttering back to waffles, "she's five. why am i arguing with a five-year-old? she's a tiny little dictator."

the only thing louder than the silence was the mutual stubbornness.

—

you both through your own stubbornness forgot about the visitor that was coming over, as ella showed up just after three. man united being down in london for an away game her suitcase in tow, wide smile plastered on her face.

"ello, elloooo!" she sang, letting herself in like she owned the place. "oi, i brought biscuits and northern charm, who wants to be blessed?"

she walked straight into the thickest atmosphere since the 2022 final. "why does it feel like i walked into a funeral?" she asked, pausing mid-kitchen stride as she saw alessia sat at the kitchen table nursing a coffee in her own peace

alessia rubbed her temple standing up to give the manchester girl a hug. "they've fell out."

ella blinked. "who? leah and tiny?" alessia hummed, nodding her head, "over a sock."

ella's mouth dropped open. then she laughed, full and unapologetic. "oh my god, no way. let me guess—leah took it personally and tiny declared war.”

"pretty much, yeah.”

"well least neither of them have over reacted! where are they both now?"

alessia gestured vaguely. "leah's sulking in the living room watching a rom-com. and lovie is drawing pictures of leah with devil horns in her room, i think."

"right well it's intervention time."

—

fifteen minutes later, they were all in the living room. alessia curled up with a mug of tea, while ella had flopped across the armchair with a handful of biscuits and in the middle of the couch sat the two grumps. both of you with shoulders hunched, eyes narrowed and both of you refusing to go first.

ella took charge, like a seasoned camp counselor. "right, you two. this mood is not what being a family is about!"

you sniffled, folding your arms across your chest, well tried to. "mama shouted at me." leah huffed as she let out a sigh of defeat, "ok, i raised my voice a little bit."

"she said my socks were a trap."

"they were! i nearly fell to my death!"

"so dramatic," you muttered, letting you back fall against the back of the couch as ella nearly choked on her biscuit from holding in laughter. alessia shot her a look and mouthed help me.

ella cleared her throat. "okay. leah you need to say sorry."

leah sighed and rubbed her face. "fine. little one, i'm sorry for snapping. i didn't mean to be scary and upset you."

you narrowed your eyes. "and?"

"...and your socks are cute. even if they are a little bit dangerous." you smiled triumphantly.

"and you?" ella asked, turning to the little face as your smile dropped a little bit.

"i'm sorry mama for leaving my sock on the stairs. and for saying you were a monster."

leah raised a brow. "you said that?"

"only to the waffles."

"wow."

alessia stepped in before another spiral happened. "you've both said sorry. now, can we maybe watch a film and just relax like a proper family?"

"I WANNA WATCH FROZEN!" you shouted, bouncing upright with the energy of someone who hadn't spent the entire day pouting.

leah groaned like someone had just asked her to run ten laps  of the football pitch with a hangover. "again? you've seen it like eighty times."

"it's the best movie ever. you'll like it if you just stop being boring."

"why is that always the solution?" leah asked no one in particular as she flopped onto the sofa, close to alessia as she sipped at her mug of tea.

you climbed up beside her, victorious, clutching the remote like a scepter. "cause' you need to let it go, mama."

ella burst out laughing. "okay, no, she wins. that's it. game over."

alessia settled beside leah, tucking her legs underneath her. "you could just sing along, just this once. for the memories."

leah's head fell into her hands as the opening credits started. "i think i would rather watch paint dry."

next to her, you were already swaying to the music, eyes sparkling, mouthing the words like you were in the west end.

ella leaned over to alessia, whispering through laughter, "i'm not saying i told you so, but i am watching the grumpiest defender in england get emotionally bullied into watching frozen by a five-year-old."

leah peeked through her fingers. "i heard that."

you gasped. "auntie ella, you have to be quiet! it's starting!" ella immediately put her hands in the air in defense not wanting to argue her point as alessia chuckled to herself.

"that's you told."

and just like that, as elsa belted her first note, peace (mostly) returned. ella passed alessia a biscuit. "well done, mum. crisis averted."

alessia just smiled, eyes on her little girl and her very reluctant girlfriend, who, by the second chorus, was... maybe humming. just a little as her head rested on alessia's chest.

ella smirked. "told you."

[bitteriekitten]

asking to tie a ribbon on it.

synopsis — what the title says <3

warnings — nsfw content mdni please or i will steal ur kneecaps, afab!reader, teasing, oral (m receiving), a bit of cock worship, all of them are subby because i said so <3, pet names (my love, sweetie, cutie), praise... i might've missed smt lmk if i did !

featuring — xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb (separate fics)

notes — this is my first time in a long time writing for a fandom 😵‍💫 in honor of caleb's new myth, have this haphazardly-made mess as a lil gift from me in all its unedited glory <3 addtly, this was inspired by @hoshifighting's nasty shua drabble :P

Xavier

While Xavier was no stranger to being adventurous in bed, he still was surprised when you made the teensy request. “Can I try tying a ribbon around it?” you asked, moving closer to his face with a playful pout. Xavier raised an eyebrow at the question, but he played along with your antics, figuring that you were just doom-scrolling on the web too much again.

Five minutes later, as you tied a bow around the base of his hardening cock, Xavier found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. He sat on the edge of the bed with you in between his parted legs, pants down to his ankles with his cock just beginning to drip with pre. He shuddered at the sight of your darkened eyes as both of your hands wrapped around him, the silk material obscuring your skin.

“Look so pretty, Xavier…” you said slowly, your voice almost slurring. Xavier’s face flares up at the compliment and gasps when you press a kiss on the underside of his tip. “Feels so soft, too…”

Xavier hissed sharply when the tip of your tongue began tracing around the ribbon-covered part of his cock. The sensation of your wet muscle was barely there, leaving him panting for more more more. 

Zayne

Zayne never regrets saying yes to every single whim you could think of. But right now, sitting up on your bed with your fingers struggling to wrap the silk cloth around his cock, he might start rethinking his choices. 

The air was knocked out of his lungs when your hand finally wrapped around his cock and began slowly stroking it. The silk chafes against him deliciously and Zayne can’t help the shaky moan that’s punched out of him. 

“M-my love–aah, g-god…” Zayne leans back against his elbows, unable to keep sitting up with how much he’s trembling. He hears your little giggle as you slowly build up a steady pace for him. “You’re as red as that ribbon on your pretty cock, Dr. Zayne,” you whispered into his ear, your tone teasing and sultry.

Zayne couldn’t respond, instead he barely restrains his whimpers as the material grazes a sensitive vein underneath his tip. 

Rafayel

He laughs in your face the moment you ask about it–“A ribbon? What am I going to do with that, cutie?” he quipped.

He stopped laughing when the pink ribbon was finally wrapped around his half-hard cock. Rafayel clears his throat as he violently shudders under your fingertips, your manicured nail barely grazing his skin. “Cutie, th-this is torture… You’re literally torturing me.” he breathes.

You pointedly ignored his comment. “So pretty, Rafayel.” you purred, pressing a light kiss on the tip. Rafayel’s cock twitches in response and he slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle his moans. You grinned at his blushing face, nuzzling your cheek against his cock like a cat. “And it’s made just for me.” 

Rafayel moans desperately as your mouth envelopes around his tip–he’s going to think twice before laughing at your ideas from now on.

Sylus

Sylus was generally loud in bed, but he became especially vocal when you decide to bring…a uniqueness into it. While he made light of you proposing putting a bow on it after dinner, he was praying to whatever higher being there was that he’d be able to last.

“S-sweetie–unh! I- I’m–” Sylus’s hips buck into your soft hand; the red silk was tight around his girth and you had struggled to even make a decent bow while you tied it up. But the appearance of the ribbon mattered little to him–all his attention was placed onto your hand, where it was languidly stroking his cock.

You smiled at his struggle, “Yes, Sy?” you asked quietly, your teeth grazing his earlobe. Sylus’s thighs stuttered, panting harshly, unable to form coherent thoughts as you squeeze his cock. You giggled and Sylus lets out another moan as your mouth began trailing down open-mouthed kisses from his ear down to his neck.

Caleb

Caleb tilts his head back onto the dining chair with his eyes squeezed close, trying not to crumple the documents in his hand as your mouth devours his tip in one go. He groans loudly into his hand when your tongue struggles to lick underneath the fabric wrapped around his cock. 

When you made the request of tying a silk ribbon around him a few days ago, he thought nothing of it, contributing it to just another trend on the web that you wanted to follow. But now, in his dining room, where you kneeled underneath his dining table sucking him off with a bow around his length, Caleb was definitely in trouble.

“Fuckkkk, Pipsqueak…” he whined. He let go of the papers and raked a hand through your hair to ground himself. You sucking him off was almost a regular thing, but Caleb feared that he might cum too quickly for this. 

[thatnightlamp]

Hiii i just first wanna say that the smut you’re writing is amazing and I absolutely love how you describe and express the character, their want/desire, the guilt and shame that comes with it, and how they feel and think overall is really good!!!

I really wanna req how awkward do you think dorn would be trying to sleep with his spouse for the first time/how would he ask his spouse for sex out of desperation and want (pls make him yearn). 🙏 thank you!

DORN NSFW. I WANT HIM.

You’re reading, again. One leg curled beneath you, head bent, candlelight softening your features. You’ve done this every night since returning to Terra. But something is different now.

Not in you.

In him.

Rogal Dorn stands across the room, fully armored like a fool, hands clenched behind his back as if expecting a report. Not from you. From himself.

You don’t notice him watching, until you do.

“…My lord?” you ask gently.

He flinches, visibly. Saints preserve him, he actually flinches. Then clears his throat with the precision of a cathedral bell.

“You may call me Rogal,” he says. Again. Like you haven’t been his spouse for two months.

You close the book. Your eyes settle on him, war-torn gaze, shoulders like citadels, jaw tight as his honor. You’ve been waiting. You’ve let him wait. But his patience is fraying. There’s a tension in him, subtle, grinding, like tectonic plates resisting collision. He is the Imperial Palace in flesh. And it is time for a siege.

“Rogal,” you murmur. “You’re wearing your armor in our bedroom again.”

A pause. A beat. Then: “Habit.”

“And you’re standing exactly five meters away, because…”

He hesitates. “Because if I stand closer, I may act imprudently.”

You blink. “Imprudent? Are you planning to ravish me suddenly and without permission?”

His face shuts down like a fortress slamming its gates. “No,” he says too quickly. “That is, not without— You would deserve better planning.”

You can’t help it. You laugh. And it hurts him, visibly, because Rogal Dorn doesn’t laugh at himself.

You rise, crossing the room slowly. His eyes track you like a targeting system. Unmoving. Unbreathing. Unbearably stiff.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Lord Dorn?”

“I am attempting,” he says, low and grim, “to… request something of you.”

Now you’re close. Close enough to see the nervous tension vibrating in his throat. Close enough to feel the heat of him, he runs hotter than a human man, unnaturally so. As if burning from the inside.

“Ask me, then,” you say softly.

He looks at you like a man before the gallows. Then, very quietly, as if the act of saying it is shameful:

“I wish to lie with you.”

You blink.

“I wish—” he tries again, jaw flexing, “to perform the act of intimacy. With you. In a… consummated sense. As a married pair.”

You blink again.

“I want to have sex with you,” he blurts finally, and looks like it kills him to say it.

A pause.

Then: “Desperately.”

You stare at him.

“Oh, Rogal.”

“I understand,” he says quickly, retreating in tone if not in step. “This is not romantic. I have not constructed the proper environment. You deserve gentle words and...flowers. Or a script. Something to soften the...demand.”

You place your hand gently on his armored forearm. “You think wanting me is a demand?”

His lips press flat. His gaze drops. “It is a burden I would not place on you lightly.”

Something in your heart twists.

“Rogal,” you whisper, “I married you. I want you too.”

His head lifts slowly, disbelief softening the edges of his eyes.

“You do?”

“God Emperor, yes. I thought you were being chivalrous, not terrified.”

“I am not terrified,” he lies, badly. “I am merely unpracticed.”

You step close enough that your body touches his armor. His breath catches. You reach up, hands to the clasps at his pauldrons.

“I can help you practice,” you murmur.

His eyes darken. “You must know that if we begin, I will not be able to stop. I have been… holding back. For- forever.”

You unfasten the first clasp. “So stop holding back.”

He growls—growls, for the Emperor’s sake, and you swear the air in the room changes.

“Remove the armor,” you say. “Let me see you.”

He strips like a soldier, not a lover.

Armor peeled off with brutal efficiency. Gauntlets, chestplate, greaves, each piece flung aside with mounting urgency. By the time he’s down to the bodysuit, his cock is already straining against the black fabric, thick and unmistakably ready.

You sit up to help, pulling at the seams, baring skin inch by inch. He watches you with wild reverence, letting you touch, letting you see.

He’s massive. Everywhere. Veins thick, muscles sharp, cock flushed and heavy against his abdomen.

And he’s shaking.

“I don’t know if I’ll be gentle,” he grits. “Not the first time.”

“Then don’t be.”

That’s all it takes.

He grabs you, grabs, one hand at the back of your neck, the other hauling you into his lap. You wrap around him like instinct, moaning as his mouth crashes into yours, hot and claiming.

No preamble now. No poetry. Just need.

You grind against him, feel the heavy slide of his cock through slick folds and against aching skin. He groans—feral, guttural, and bites your lower lip.

“You don’t know what you’ve done to me,” he hisses. “I’ve dreamed of this. For months. Waking up in sweat, fists clenched. Thinking of how you’d feel. How you’d sound.”

“Then stop dreaming,” you pant. “Do it.”

He doesn’t need more permission.

You reach between you, lining him up, and he pushes in, slowly at first, as if even now he’s afraid he’ll break you.

But you’re ready. Wet, open, waiting. And tight. Saints, the stretch of him makes you sob.

“Throne,” he chokes. “You feel—you’re perfect.”

You arch, gasping. He drives deeper. And then��

Something in him snaps.

He buries himself in one brutal thrust, presses you down into the mattress, and starts to fuck you.

It’s not lovemaking. It’s a siege. His hips slam into you with punishing force, cock splitting you open, dragging filthy moans from your throat with every thrust.

He groans your name like a prayer. Grinds his teeth. Ruts into you like a man possessed.

And it’s not enough.

“Turn over,” he pants. “Let me take you.”

You obey, dizzy with lust. He grabs your hips, pulls you up, and slams back in. The angle hits deeper. Harder. You claw at the sheets, half-mad with sensation.

“You’re mine,” he growls. “You married me. You belong to me.”

“Yes,” you whimper. “I’m yours. Always.”

He fucked you harder. Gripping your hips like a lifeline, his cock thrusting in and out at a wild pace. The wet sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, only drowned out by your cries and his hoarse moans.

He loses the last of his control.

When your climax hits, it’s blinding, sharp, brutal, stars behind your eyes. You scream, body locking up, milking him.

And that’s what does it.

With a roar like a battle cry, he slams in to the hilt and spills, hot, endless, cock pulsing as he floods you. He buries his face in your back, breathless, shaking, nearly sobbing with release.

“Mine,” he whispers again. “Mine.”

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - PART FIVE*

Summary: “Y/N hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, but it seems like she is not the only one overthinking this time…”

Tropes: innocent!reader x boxer!harry

Wc: 3k

Warnings: smutty scenes, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, teeny tiny bit of angst ig

A/N: I AM BACK! I finished my exams today and I hurried home to write the rest of this chapter bc I have been itching to do so for the past weeks. I will try not to put as much time in between the next chapters, sorry about that! Love you all and enjoy!!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It had been three days. Three entire days since the kissing-in-the-car debacle that Y/N had participated in, and she still wasn't over it. How was she supposed to act normal at their class tomorrow? It had plagued her mind ever since she walked into her apartment that Saturday night.

All weekend, she had been contemplating different things. Saturday and Sunday, she was sure she wanted to never see his face again because she couldn't stand the embarrassment. But when Monday rolled around and re-thought everything after coming back from work, she realized that she should probably be mature and talk to him.

However, that resulted into her pacing around her room like a maniac with the phone in her hand, his number ready to dial. For the past twenty minutes she had been trying to convince herself to just press that call button and get it over with.

"C'mon..." Y/N growled to herself. She stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and finally called him. Her hands were sweating as the dial tone sounded over and over again, and the nerves she felt were sure to explode her stomach, but she kept breathing and waited for Harry to pick up.

The distant sound of a phone ringing took Y/N’s attention away from her own attempted call. Her heart began beating even faster as she walked towards her front door, and sure enough, when looking through her peephole, she saw Harry standing in front of her door.

As she took the lock off, Y/N broke up the call and putting her phone in her pocket. Harry's eyes were wide at the door opening all of a sudden, but he still managed to muster an awkward smile amidst his shock before he greeted her.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"Hi." She greeted back, unsure of what to do or say or feel. "uhm, what are you doing here?"

The question came out so soft, as if she was scared to ask it, not ready for the consequences his answer may bear. Maybe it was true; she had always had the feeling that her body was better at communicating her true feelings than her brain was.

"I need to talk to you." Harry said, his tone serious enough for Y/N's chest to start pressing on her, but a soft edge to it nonetheless. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door wider and letting Harry inside her apartment. He walked in and silently observed the place. Y/N felt oddly tense as she waited for him to take it all in, but he was quite quick to turn around. In the seconds that he stood there, entirely quiet, Y/N deduced the obvious: he was awaiting some instructions from her.

"Go sit on the couch, do you want something to drink?" She asked, already heading for the kitchen. Harry sat down like she told him to, but shook his head.

"No thank you, just wanna talk. Can you... sit down?" His difficulty to meet her eye and the apprehension behind his words had Y/N immediately head for the couch and sit down next to him.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked innocently, like she wasn’t the reason this awkwardness existed in the first place.

"About last Saturday." He answered. You began to shake your head, cheeks already reddening from the shame that washed over you.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just— hold on," He interrupted her. "I said something, that night, I can't help but think that you didn't take it how I meant it. And it has been eating at me all weekend because I'd hate to be the fool who accidentally rejected you."

Harry's eyes bored into Y/N's until she couldn't take the intensity of it anymore and looked down. He leaned forward, putting his hand on her leg. She studied his fingers as they slowly caressed her skin.

"Harry, it's okay. I misinterpreted it, you don't have to make excuses to make me feel better." She shrugged her shoulders, hoping to prematurely dodge any bullets that might have ended up with her crying otherwise.

"I'm not!" He protested. "I— Y/N, look at me."

When she didn't instantly comply, Harry's fingers traced up to her chin and redirected her face towards him, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb slowly stroked her chin as he took in every inch of her face.

"I wanted it." He said slowly, making sure she heard every word he says. Slowly leaning in, he added: "Really bad."

His lips hovered near hers, so close it was nearly sending her into a frenzy, but far away enough for him to assess her reaction on his movements. But Y/N was an open book, a reactive person when it came to these desires. She couldn't feign disinterest as she had never felt this strongly about someone in such a perverted manner before. Harry mouth slowly curled up into a smirk.

"Can I show you how badly I wanted it?" He asked, the heat of his breath reaching her face and making her core pulsate. The only thing Y/N could do was nod, and before she knew it, Harry's lips closed in on hers.

A soft whine escaped her throat as he kissed her, the desperation of her body unshielded under his roughly delicate touch. Nothing seemed to make sense as he slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back on the couch, nothing but him.

Harry leaned forward, not taking his mouth off Y/N as she sat against the armrest. He hovered over her, his body between her spread legs. One of his hands was holding onto her waist, while the other one kept him up by holding onto the armrest.

As their tongues danced around each other, Harry's hand slipped down from her waist towards her inner thighs, and Y/N felt her panties getting wet at the suggestive caresses of her skin. She put her hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back a little bit, their lips now apart. Still caught up in the heat of the moment, Harry mindlessly trailed his kisses down her jaw and then onto her neck.

"Harry." Y/N tried to get his attention, but his name sounded more like an erotic plea, and caused a growl to sound from his lips, followed by a rougher treatment on her neck. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as his lips sucked at that sensitive skin of her, and a small whine fell from her as he bruised her neck.

"Ha— hmm... Harry!" She exclaimed. "S— stop."

Within a millisecond, or at least it felt like that, Harry's hands and mouth were removed from her. His face was filled with worry as he took in hers.

"Are you okay? Did I go too far?" He began asking, but she was quick to shake her head.

"No! It's just— I haven't really, done much of this before. I don't have a lot of experience and uhm, I just wanted you to know that before we... proceeded." Y/N explained, voice near trembling as she spoke. Harry's eyes softened, and his face pulled into a soft smile.

"Thank you for telling me." He said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss before pulling back, sitting up straight. "I just have one question, though."

Y/N nodded, big doe eyes staring right at him as that innocent smile transformed into a smug grin.

"Can I show you what I actually wanted to do last Saturday?" He asked, stroking her already spread legs. Before she knew it, the answer fell from Y/N's lips.

"Yes."

He let out a satisfied hum before his hands grabbed at her shorts and pulled them down along with her underwear, leaving her bare cunt to be exposed to him. Y/N blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how exposed she was, but the fascination that twinkled in Harry's eyes washed most of her insecurities away. She watched carefully as he leaned down and his fingers began stroking her folds.

Y/N held her breath in anticipation, curiously waiting for Harry to continue, and when he finally put his hands on her clit, she couldn't help but shift in her seat a bit at the tingling sensation.

"O— oh!" She shrieked when she felt Harry's tongue attached itself to her clit, his middle finger now paying more attention to slowly beginning to slide in and out of her. Y/N tried to control her breathing to the best of her abilities as Harry explored her sopping and pulsating core.

Y/N's mind had gone all fuzzy from the sweet feeling of his touch on her sensitive parts. It was impossible to focus on anything else than Harry, and even if it was, she wouldn't dare take her eyes off of him anyway. It was addictive, the way he was ravishing her like she was a culinary meal, and it felt glorying.

Harry temporarily removed his mouth from her heat, and looked up at Y/N before saying: "C'mon, angel. Tell me how it feels."

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname she'd grown to love ever since the first time he said it, and she tried to control her whines as she responded.

"So— ah! So good..." She managed to reply, her knuckles turning white from balling up her fists in an attempt to not come too early. Harry's tongue swept over her clit in such an intoxicating way, and his now two fingers pumping in and out of her was only getting her closer to her inevitable climax.

Harry moaned at her verbal approval, and picked up the pace of both his mouth and his fingers, leaving her nothing but a whimpering mess under him. This was surely going to be the death of her, wasn’t it?

"Harry— I think I'm going to..." She ran out of breath before she could finish your sentence, and she began convulsing around him, legs trembling as her orgasm began to reach her like a wave building up. And then just like that, it crashed.

With a cry of his name and a few profanities that followed, the sensual waves of her release hit Y/N. The release was slow and long, and one of the most satisfying ones she'd ever had. Harry's touch stayed on her skin, helping her ride out her high.

When he finally backed away, Y/N was still breathing heavily from what she had just experienced. Wide eyed, she observed how he licked his lips before he looked up at her. She could've come again from the sight of that alone.

"D'you want some water?" Harry suddenly asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to your kitchen. She followed him with her eyes, mouth agape as he went through her kitchen cabinets until he stumbled upon two glasses and filled them with water. As he returned to the couch, he raised a brow, indicating that he was still waiting on an answer.

"Uhm, yes, thank you." Y/N stumbled as he handed her the glass. She took a few sips, scanning him while she drank. He was so casual all of a sudden, leaning back against the couch with his legs spread like that... there was something cocky about it and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to roll her eyes at it or jump his bones.

Possibly both, at the same time.

Y/N put her glass down and slowly crawled over to Harry, who sniffed a laugh at her wobbly movements on the way too squishy couch. She hoped it would at least come off as cute, now that her attempt at being sexy had been trampled by her own furniture.

As the laughter from both parties died down, Y/N took it upon herself to slowly start kissing Harry's neck. Her heartbeat rose when she felt him shifting in his seat, a pained sigh escaping his throat. Meticulously, she dragged her hand down his chest until it reached his pants, and she began unbuckling his belt.

She was surprised when she felt his hand pull hers away, and stopped her actions to see what was going on. When she saw his clenched jaw, she frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"You don't have to do that angel." He said, tilting his head a bit. She slowly shook her head.

"Oh, alright." She said, and felt a pang in her chest at the idea that she could've done something wrong. Harry took both of her hands, cupping his over them.

"I’d like to save it for next time." He suggested, the slight raise of his brow adding a certain playfulness to his reply. The hint of a smile on his face filled her with a warm feeling, and she quickly found herself nodding at what Harry had said.

“Plus, I have to get my beauty rest… I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I teach this private self-defense class, client’s got me working till late.” He joked, eyes beaming when a giggle fell from her lips. Y/N took her bottom lip between her teeth, stomach fluttering as she took in the painfully beautiful, funny, charismatic man in front—or well, under her.

“Really? Is she any good?” She teased back, brows raising in surprise when Harry nodded.

“Difficult to teach tho.” He responded.

“Why’s that?” Y/N questioned, genuine curiosity dripping from her tone. Harry took his eyes off her and shamelessly lowered his gaze to her body as his hands, that had dug into her waist, slowly began to trail down to her ass.

“‘S just so hard to concentrate…” He said lowly, and she felt her core heating up again at the sole sound of Harry’s voice. Her cheeks flushed alike at what he was implying, and she felt like an animal with the way her body reacted to him.

Y/N remained as quiet as she could, savoring Harry’s touch on her bare skin. She would have closed her eyes, had she not been too mesmerized by her face to do so.

Nerves swirled in her stomach as she watched Harry’s stare trail upwards again, only to stop at her lips. Gradually, he leaned forward, closing the gap between the two’s mouths. Y/N couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her when Harry put his lips on her again, and much like the touch of his hands on her, she relished in the way his tongue circled around hers, and she was surprised at how well their bodies captured the connection that she had been unable to explain in words.

It was safe to say that Y/N was disappointed when at last Harry pulled away, but she couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face of his.

Her eyes widened when he got up all of a sudden, hands still holding up her thighs in the few moments before she wrapped them tightly around him in response to the sudden movement. He sniffed a laugh, which Y/N was only able to hear because her arms were locked around Harry’s neck and her face was only a few centimeters away from his. The urge to smile almost prevailed over her shock.

Harry’s hands let go of Y/N’s thighs, and she lowered her legs in response, putting her feet on the ground again and removing herself from his touch completely.

As they walked towards the front door, Y/N found herself to be a bit gloomy. She didn’t want him to leave, he was so fun to be around. He made her not worry, which was a miracle because Y/N always worried. And she knew she’d go back to worrying and overthinking the second she’d be alone again, so the prospect of Harry going away was not the most fun. She had to remind herself that she’d see him tomorrow, though.

Y/N opened the door, waiting as Harry put on his coat. When he finally had, he turned to her one last time.

“Sleep tight, angel.” He said, and with that, walked right out the door. Y/N croaked out a weak ‘bye’, but she was pretty sure she’d heard the elevator ding by then.

It took her a minute to recover physically before turning off her lights in the living room and floating towards her bathroom, where she smiled like an idiot all the way through brushing her teeth.

It wasn’t until her head hit the pillow that what she dreaded came along again: that tiresome worry. Thoughts and scenarios filled her head as she lied in bed, watching the ceiling as if it would grant her answers, or peace.

It was as if, with Harry, nothing else truly mattered. Not necessarily in the corny, dramatic way, but rather in the sense that it felt like the outside world wasn’t that much of a factor in Y/N’s decisions, nor did she have the feeling that it should be whenever she was around him. But when he was gone, it would all start to matter again and suddenly she found herself doubting whether dating Harry would even be a good idea.

What would her parents think? What would Sophie think? Would she be viewed as less professional by her co-workers for dating her trainer? Would it impact Harry’s reputation—

She stopped herself. Probably not, considering Harry was a man.

It was with a frown that Y/N eventually dozed off into a deep slumber. Not even in her dreams she was safe from the anxiety that plagued her, a nightmare about being fired stirring her awake at around four in the morning. She was more exhausted when she woke up than when she went to bed.

But despite all of it, her body still buzzed in anticipation of tonight’s class…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @kierramcduffie @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @bitchidontpost @lomlolivia

[16wolke11]

Clumsy - Oscar Piastri

A/N My first one-shot here! Still figuring out the tagging and stuff, but I hope you like it.

Summary: Oscar's girlfriend is extremely clumsy, always managing to get a new bruise or a new cut just a few days apart. One day she falls down the stairs and needs surgery, Oscar drops everything to be with her.

Words: 2139

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Being a teacher at an elementary school was always my dream job, and after finishing my master's degree, I am finally able to do what I love; teaching the young ones and laying the first stones on their path to knowledge. Even though it is difficult at times, to manage the fidgeting children who tend to get distracted easily, it's still what I love. Seeing success when another one manages to read a full sentence, solve a math problem, or write a rather difficult word with the correct spelling is priceless.

But being a teacher also means I'm not able to accompany Oscar that often. It's just not ideal to travel over the weekend; landing late on Fridays and having to leave exactly after the race, while also trying to prepare the classes for the upcoming week and maybe even needing to correct work from the previous one. I love summer break because it means I can be with Oscar more often, but in the meantime, we make the best out of the situation. We FaceTime frequently, chat while the other is occupied, and just savour the time we can spend together.

This week is another one when Oscar left for a race, and I have to stay behind. Luckily, I have a short day at school today, allowing me to go before lunch and finish some things. Well, if it weren't for my clumsy self. Oscar always jokes that I get at least five new bruises while he's away, and he's probably right, but I can't do anything about the stumbling, the brushing against door frames, or knocking my little toe into anything. But today, my bad luck took it one step too far, and I slipped on the stairs at school, hitting my elbow on them and feeling a sharp pain shoot down my arm.

I've fallen down these stairs before, but I've never been in so much pain. One of my coworkers found me, and after a quick look at my already bruising elbow, we decided to call an ambulance. Now, hours later, I have a diagnosis and finally some time to tell Oscar what happened. I already have a few texts from him, nothing too worried, just some updates about his day and a question about how mine is going. With a sigh, I call his number, bracing myself to tell him everything while not even being able to fidget with my fingers for distraction.

It doesn't take long before Oscar picks up like he's been waiting in front of his phone just anticipating my call or text. "Hey, Oscar," I greet him and hear some shuffling in the background before a door closes and Oscar speaks up.

"Love, everything okay? Shouldn't you be at work?" he asks, his voice already laced with worry. I close my eyes for a moment. Oscar didn't even know I was supposed to be out of work early today and just assumes I should still be at school teaching or supervising the little gremlins.

"Please don't freak out," I start, and I hear a nervous chuckle in response.

"This is not a great starting point for that request, but I'll try."

He's right, but I don't even know how to phrase what happened easily, so I just start with the simplest explanation I can think of. "Well, I kind of fell down the stairs after finishing my last class."

"Again?" Oscar laughs, and I can't help but smile a little too, though I roll my eyes at the same time, even though Oscar can't see me.

"Hey, I can't do anything about being clumsy," I protest, but I only get another laugh in return. Usually, I would laugh with him, but the light throbbing in my elbow, down to my fingers, stops the light mood I'm in.

"Sorry, but I reckon you don't just call to tell me that," Oscar apologizes softly, and then he gets back to the reason for my call. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for all the questions he's going to have.

"No, I might've smashed my elbow pretty badly, and they brought me to the hospital." I tell him the first facts, and immediately the laughing Oscar is replaced with a worried one.

"That bad?" he asks, and I can almost hear the pain in his voice. As much as he likes to joke about my clumsiness, he also hates it when I get injured, even if it's just a little bruise or a cut.

"Unfortunately, I managed to break it and need surgery to fix the broken pieces back into place. It'll be a long recovery because I was pretty successful in splintering the bone into pieces," I tell him what the doctors explained, just in the simpler version. They explained a lot about how they need to make sure there are no little bone fragments left in the joint and the recovery process I'll have to go through.

"Fuck!" Oscar curses, and I can hear him pacing, probably in his driver's room. I can only imagine the distressed look on his face and how he's probably ruffling his hair while a thousand thoughts swirling through his head. Well, at least he's giving me an insight into what's going on in his mind, because he starts rambling.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need anything? I could send Margaret over or someone else if you need anyone by your side right now. Did they say anything about the recovery? Will your arm be able to move normally or will there be any lasting damage?"

"Oscar, stop." I manage to speak up when he takes a deep breath. It's sweet how he's trying to help me from afar, even thinking about sending our elderly neighbour to me, but I need him to calm down.

"Sorry, kind of freaking out right now," he mutters, and I smile just a little bit.

"I could tell." I still remember the first time Oscar rambled that much and how surprised I was by the speed and number of words coming out of his mouth. Usually, he's calm, collected, and limits his words to the necessary ones, but when he's really worried, everything just comes out.

"Don't worry, I don't need anything right now. Just hearing your voice makes everything feel better," I tell him, which is the truth. There's nothing I need right now, except for him, and he just helps me by being here on the phone, even though it's not the same as having him in person.

"That's good," Oscar says, and I can hear that he's stopped pacing, probably calming down a little.

"Is there anything you know about the surgery?" he asks after a short break, now sounding like his calm self again.

"We're currently waiting for a free spot in the OR. It's not urgent, but they'd like to operate before the swelling gets too bad, and luckily, I haven't had lunch yet," I explain what the doctors told me. This isn't an emergency, but waiting too long isn't ideal either, so they're going to squeeze me in as soon as one of the ORs is available.

"I bet you're hungry," Oscar grins, and I can hear it in his voice. I've learned to recognize that tone through the phone—the soft change when his lips are curled upwards.

"Starving," I confirm with a soft laugh. My stomach is already growling, but there's no way to get food until after the surgery. I can wait if it means my elbow will be fixed.

"I promise you your favourite food as soon as I'm with you," Oscar says, and I know he's not lying. He would probably even order food into the hospital for me if that were possible, but they wouldn't bring it to me, so I'll have to wait.

"Looking forward to it. Hopefully, I'll be home by then," I mumble, knowing it will take some days until Oscar will be back home, and who knows, maybe they'll send me home just a few days after the surgery.

"We'll see," are Oscar's last words about my injury before we start talking a bit about his day. I get the feeling he's trying to distract me, and it's working perfectly. At one point, Oscar needs to leave for some duties, and luckily for me, a nice nurse comes in just a few minutes later to inform me that my surgery is starting soon.

The way to the OR and the prepping feels like a blur, and quicker than I thought, I'm with an anaesthesiologist. Drifting into sleep feels like a relief because I know my arm will be fixed. Of course, recovery will take its time, but I'm sure I'll manage it just fine.

Waking up after the surgery almost knocks the air out of my lungs because it feels like my arm is falling off. The nurse helps me take a few sips of water, gives me some painkillers, and then I drift back into sleep, even though I just woke up from a deep slumber.

The night is blurry, waking up from time to time—sometimes from the pain in general, sometimes from the nurses, and sometimes from the pain of a sudden movement. But somehow, I make it through the night and feel slightly better in the morning. Blinking, I try to figure out what time it might be when I spot a familiar figure sitting beside my bed, watching me closely.

"Os?" I ask groggily, not sure if he's really sitting there or if the pain meds are playing tricks on my mind. But just seeing the soft smile on his lips makes me hope that he's really there and not just in my imagination.

"Hi, love," he whispers, fingers reaching for my uninjured hand, softly holding onto it, letting me feel the warmth of his touch.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, slowly realizing that he's indeed here and not with his team for the race weekend.

"Being here for you," he simply states, like it's obvious that it wouldn't even be a question for him if he had to choose where to be right now.

"Your race..." I whisper, knowing how important it is, not only to him but to the fans, the championship, the team, and everyone else involved. I would like to ask him if he's insane, if they made it hard for him to leave, but no words leave my lips.

"You are more important," Oscar states, and my eyes well up. How can he be so perfect?

"Thank you," I try to squeeze his hand a bit, but my grip is pretty weak. Oscar starts letting his thumb brush over the back of my hand, and I relax under his touch. His eyes wander over me before he asks a question.

"How are you feeling? Is the pain manageable?"

My eyes linger on my heavily padded elbow for a moment. Right now, I don't feel anything but a dull pain. But it seems like Oscar's touch makes it disappear with every soft stroke of his finger on my skin.

"You make everything seem better just by being here," I state, my voice laced with tiredness, and Oscar smiles softly.

"So, I guess they gave you some nice painkillers," he grins. I can hear it in his voice, and I can feel my lips pulling into a crooked smile.

"Yes."

We look at each other for a moment, but my eyes are getting heavier and heavier, and I have to fight to keep them open for a few more minutes.

"Can you come in?" I ask Oscar, who looks conflicted at my question.

"I don't know," he says, gesturing to my body, indicating he's scared of hurting me in any way, but I just need him close now for recovery.

"Please."

Oscar sighs softly before standing up. "Okay, anything to make you feel better," he says, gets rid of his shoes, and carefully shuffles into the bed beside me. I need to stay on my back because of my elbow being propped up in some bedding, and he lays on his side beside my good arm, resting his arm over my belly and searching for the contact I need. I rest my head against his chest before a thought comes into my head.

"Did you bring the food?" I ask, remembering what he promised, and even though my mind is hazy, I realize he probably already knew he was coming home early when he promised me the food.

"Yes," Oscar confirms, and I can only hum the following words, close to falling asleep.

"Love you."

"Love you too, my little crash pilot," Oscar whispers, holding me in his arms while I slip into the sleep of recovery.

[guksfairy]

CAREFREE | JJK

how Jeon Jungkook of BTS and L/N Y/N of STRLIGHT fell in love <3

wc: 3.3k

warnings: none

notes: y/n is a member of STRLIGHT which has five members but they’re not mentioned much, y/n is under Wonijin Entertainment and JK is under Hybe, JK is head over heels for y/n, slight angst if you squint

Enjoy !

The first time you locked eyes with Jeon Jungkook was in the hallway of the Wonijin Entertainment building. He had been at your company for the sole purpose of filming content with his good friend and your senior, Eunwoo.

It wasn’t unusual for idols to visit other idols in your company but this one surprised you.

You’d just finished dance practice with your group, STRLIGHT, slightly sweaty, tired, and just a bit irritated.

You were scheduled for a comeback soon meaning you had to learn new choreography. A couple steps were a bit difficult to perfect, your members could more than agree, so it’s safe to say you weren’t feeling the happiest.

Taking sips from your water bottle, you suddenly felt a push against your shoulder. Someone bumped into you. Someone that smelled…really nice.

“Sorry,” a voice murmured and you look up to see him. Jungkook. Like time was no longer existent, you felt frozen for a good second.

Jungkook’s eyes were wide with a sincere apology and all you could think about was about how you were standing in front of *the* Jeon Jungkook. One of the world’s most famous man who went viral for simply drinking water or even breathing! Holy shit.

He wore an oversized hoodie and sweats. It takes you a moment to realize you’ve just been staring at him when you reply, “It’s okay.”

You expect him to walk away afterwards but he doesn’t. He stays put and stares at you for a moment longer like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“You’re Y/N right?” he asks and it’s like a bulb turned on above his head.

You’re taken back, “You know who I am?” you ask with a giggle and think about how lame of a response that was.

He smiles, “Yeah you were that idol that went viral last year on Inkigayo for covering ‘Fake Love’. You performed my role,” he explains like it’s something he has memorized. Like he thinks about it often. He does.

He remembers first hearing about it but not giving it much of a thought. A lot of idols cover their songs but for some reason people *really* fell in love with your version. Perhaps it was the way you were expressive with your dancing or your more than amazing vocals. You caught the eye of many around the world, including Jungkook.

Maybe he watched your fancam of the performance once a day for a whole month.

With a flushed face you say, “Yeah…that was me,” with your confirmation he replied, “You were amazing,” his lips curled with a smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean you had the expressions down and everything,” you smile and thank him for his praise. He says something about having to go because of his schedule but you can barely hear through the loud thumps of your heart.

He soon walks away and you’re stood staring at his back while your heart does a little dance that doesn’t stop for the rest of the day.

The next time you see Jungkook isn’t for about another 2 months. It’s not on purpose obviously. You’re from two different companies and the only time you would ever see him again would be at social events like today.

BTS had just finished their performance and your group was next. You were finally having your comeback stage after months of practice and perfecting every detail. Safe to say you were more than excited for this.

You and your members watch the cleaning staff as they broom up the confetti that was set off during BTS’ performance.

Enseo is the first to notice.

“BTS members,” she says quickly and in a low voice so only the five of you were able to hear. You watch as the 7 idols walk in your direction, most likely back to their room.

They walk by and you all greet each other politely, you stand the last in line and Jungkook notices you in an instant

“Y/N,” like a deer in headlight you smile at him, “Break a leg out there. I’ll be watching and cheering for you,” he says and pats the top of your head before walking away and catching up to the rest of his members. You have no time to respond and you’re once again faced with the same image of his back.

Your leader is the first to say anything, “I’m sorry since when are you buddies with Jeon Jungkook?” Hana asks and you giggle.

“I’ve only spoken to him once,” you admit and they scoff.

“It looked like you guys were best friends with the way he was looking at you,” Enseo says and the rest nod in agreement.

“Just please be careful. You know how protective his fans can get,” Hans says and you nod before your group is given the cue to go on stage and get ready to perform. You try not to think about how Jungkook is probably watching.

The third time you meet Jungkook it’s you who spots him first.

STRLIGHT was to appear on Knowing Bros, a huge opportunity for your group who was growing in popularity quickly.

You had all been aware that idols from another groups would be joining you guys as guests but weren’t given much information after that.

Even Siyoon who likes to ask a million questions to be well informed about situations didn’t know who would be starring along with you.

Turns out, it would be Jimin and Jungkook.

You’re stood at the end of the line, having your makeup touched up before cameras first start rolling when you spot him. He looks handsome, of course he does, as he walks towards the front of the class in a school uniform.

Your eyes meet and a smile is put on both of your faces at the same time. You don’t notice but he walks a bit quicker to stand next to you.

“I didn’t know it was you guys we would be doing this episode with,” he simply says and you nod.

“Yeah we weren’t aware of it either,” he nods in acknowledgment and you greet Jimin as well who smiles at you like he knows something you don’t. Your members all greet the two idols as well who were more than excited to share the stage with well known stars.

The filming starts shortly after with a couple games played here and there. Jokes thrown left and right. Jungkook’s subtle eyes finding you as often as he could without making it seem so obvious for the cameras.

He knows there would be compilations if he had given you the amount of attention he really wanted to give you.

And when the episode is coming to an end and you crack a joke that makes the entire set laugh he finds himself feeling the urge to spend more time with you.

Third time seeing you in person and he’s hooked.

Filming wraps and your group is the first to say their goodbyes. The staff hand you flowers and thank you for joining them. Shortly after Jimin and Jungkook appear in front of you five.

“That was a fun episode. You guys are truly entertaining. I hope you guys have nothing but success,” Jimin starts and you all thank him.

“Yeah I hope the world loves and supports you guys. You’re all going to make it far in this industry I know it,” Jungkook adds and once again you all thank him before your manager is leading you all backstage to remove make up and such.

Jungkook grabs your arm before you have a chance to follow the rest of the first.

“Didn’t know you were so funny,” he quickly says.

“I’m full of surprises,” you playfully reply and he smiles, “Oh yeah?” you nod and your manager calls you to hurry.

You look at him once more before waving and catching up to your group. This time it’s Jungkook staring at you and wishing he had a bit more time.

The first ever time Jungkook and you speak outside of work is through your Instagram DM’s.

You had posted a blurry picture of you and Mittens, your soft black cat, and posted it to your story.

Within 5 minutes you had received a DM from Jungkook.

You found it a bit silly considering he didn’t follow anyone but his group members. You don’t call him out for him stalking your page.

@jk: ur cat looks like she doesn’t approve of anyone

@ynofficial: she doesn’t lol 😭

@jk: do u think she would approve of me?

@ynofficial: perhaps

@ynofficial: she gets intimidated by attractive people :P

@jk: you should meet my dog

@jk: he loves pretty girls

You laugh and heart his message but don’t reply. Too shy to, you place your phone on your couch and allow your warm emotions to travel throughout your entire body

The messages became an everyday thing. Suddenly you were messaging during practice, after performances, in the car when you were being taken back to your dorm.

After a while you had exchanged numbers and those messages became phone calls.

Some would last a few minutes just to check in while others would last hours. Usually after you were both finished with your individual schedules.

You found that Jungkook was easy to talk to. He was funny, observant, and vulnerable in a way you’d never expected to see. He asked questions that were genuine and not just to fill the empty noise, “Are you getting enough rest these days?” or sometimes, “Do you ever feel exhausted or like this is all too much?”

And you told him everything you wouldn’t tell others. Things your family or best friends didn’t even know. Things about your idol life or personal life, like how you hated airports and the way everyone surrounded you like you weren’t even a human. Phone cameras left and right. You talked to him about the pressure of always holding a perfect image. How lonely the dorms would feel sometimes after a day that was more than loud. You once mentioned how you missed the version of yourself that you were pre-debut.

You told him stories about how carefree you used to be and in return he told you stories he’d never spoken publicly about.

“No way!”

“Yeah we got in trouble with our manager almost immediately,”

“Well yeah what do you expect when you and Jimin escape your hotel in the middle of the night in a foreign country because you guys wanted snacks,” you say and he laughs.

On days when he would be a little bit more busy than usual, and didn’t have time to call, you he would send you voice notes instead of texts. His voice was low and a bit raspy, raw. Intimate, in a way that only private recordings could be. You played those a little too many times.

One night, when you and your members were in the middle or working out, your phone was loud when it dinged with a special ringtone. One you had set just for him.

The members paid you no mind as they were all in their own world just trying to get their workout done with.

You stand up mid-workout and grab your phone that had been in your bag.

He had sent you a selfie. His hoodie was on, messy hair barely shown, dark circles under his eyes. Nothing else. No follow up message. No silly gif.

So you do the same.

Your hair is just as messy, if not more, and you’re sweating but could care less.

A quick snap and you send the image his way. He responds within a couple seconds.

jk <3: you look pretty

Your heart skips a beat but you don’t reply. Simply stare at message a little longer and go back to your workout.

Your members mentally question the big smile on your face as you somehow finish your workout before them.

The first “date”, if you could even call it a date, was a drive at midnight. He had picked you up wearing a black mask and a dark brown bucket hat. You simply wore a hoodie, sweats, and a mask.

After the initial greeting you two don’t speak, simply listened to the soft and constant hum of the city that passes you by. The low bass of the playlist he had made was low but still very much present.

He finally speaks up with, “Have you ever wanted to just…disappear?” his eyes are still on the road but you could tell there was a lot on his mind.

“Most days,” you softly answer.

“Sometimes I think about moving somewhere really cold. Not as crowded as Seoul. I’d grow a long beard and open a ramen shop,” he says and you can’t help but sniffle a little laugh.

“You’d last two weeks max. You’d miss the stage too much, wouldn’t you?” you say and watch him nod.

“Yeah, hate that I love it so much sometimes,” you get it.

He parks near the Han River, safe distance away from the few people that are there, and you both just sit there watching the water shimmer in the moonlight.

You don’t say anything. You don’t ask him what’s on his mind and he doesn’t either. You come to realize he most likely just didn’t want to be alone tonight. He wanted your company.

You find yourself thinking about others things that aren’t about fans, concerts, headlines, or cameras. Other things like how you missed your parents and would probably go and visit them this weekend if you have time, or how Enseo’s birthday was coming up so you wanted to buy her a charm bracelet, or even the man sitting next to you.

“You make it easier,” he turns to look at you, actually look at you, as he says these words.

Your words feel trapped until you clear your throat, “You make it feel…real,”

He hesitates for a moment as his eyes glace at your hand that rests on your thigh. With gentle movements he reaches over and takes your hand in his. You let him.

It wasn’t easy. But nothing is ever easy when you’re internationally famous and have eyes on you everywhere you go. Every action you take is photographed and recorded.

The both of you were as careful as you could be. Discreet. Meeting in quiet corners, always watching out for anyone that could be near.

Sure, there were a couple of close calls. Dispatch here and there, fans noticing you guys interact more, and even your respected members were starting to question where you disappear to. But you’ve been lucky. Neither one of you slipping and getting caught. At least not yet.

You recall once after an award show where Jungkook had walked past you on stage. The hundreds of cameras everywhere not even crossing his mind for a single second. His fingers brush against yours for half a second.

Perhaps no one noticed. But you had. And of course, so had he.

Later that night, when you’re in the company car with the girls he sends you a message.

jk <3: couldn’t help it

jk <3: wanted to be near you even for a second

But of course this wasn’t a fairytale. It wasn’t all soft moments and stolen glances.

There were heavy conversations too.

“Do you even want this?” you didn’t mean to snap at him so suddenly after a particular risky near-miss.

“Of course I do! I’ve never wanted anything more,” he doesn’t raise his voice but his tone is stern, “but we can’t be so reckless my love,” a nickname that always made you feel warm inside.

“I’m tired of hiding Koo,”

“You think I’m not?” he answers, “This is our reality, Y/N. I can’t risk my career and more importantly I can’t risk yours,” he explains.

You turn away from him just slightly so as to not tear up when you look at him, “Maybe…maybe we’re just pretending like this could actually wor-”

He stops you before you could finish your sentence and grabs your hand gently, turning you towards him, “I’m not pretending,”

You allow a single tear to fall and in an instant he grabs the back your hear to pull you into his chest. Sometimes you hated how vulnerable you were in front of him, but he made you feel so safe every single time.

“I swear to you we’ll make this work,” he whispers, “I’ll do everything even if it kills me,” his soft kiss on the crown of your head imprints his words into your heart.

A couple more months had passed. You had celebrated your 100 days together on an out of city getaway. Each telling your company it was an urgent family emergency.

You had gotten better at pretending during the day when the cameras were on and the flashes almost blinded. You both smile during interviews, laughed with your group members, and performed like your hearts weren’t already tied to someone you weren’t even allowed to love.

But at night, when the lights were off, the makeup was gone, and the city was sleeping, you’d lie in bed thinking about. him. Scrolling through your exchanged messages, listening to his cute motivational voice notes, wondering how something that felt so right could be so wrong.

He’d call you just half past 2 in the morning to tell you he had just gotten home and how much he loved you. Sometimes you couldn’t hold back to temptation. As soon as Jungkook was done with his schedule and would get dropped off, he’d make his way to his car immediately and pick you up from your dorm.

You’d both then spend the night talking, laughing, and making out ever chance you wanted to.

You’d shower together and wash all the stress of the day away then get into his nice warm bed wearing the matching pajamas he had purchased early in the week.

One night, after your group had just your their first Daesang, you had stepped outside to take a breath and pinch yourself to make sure this was real. He had followed you a minute or two afterwards, softly calling your name behind you.

Holding out his hand, you ran to him, not caring if there was someone nearby. He kissed your knuckles and had given you a peck.

“Congratulations, pretty girl. You more than deserved it,” he says and you embrace him in a warm hug.

You stood in the empty hallway of the building. The soft lights adding to the warm ambience. He was holding you tightly before leaning back to look at you.

“You did amazing my love,” he brushed your cheeks with his thumb as he takes in your makeup that was done for your performance.

“You watched?”

“Of course I did. My gorgeous, gorgeous girlfriend performs her latest comeback and you expect me not to watch?” he teases and you smile, looking up at him.

“We’re gonna get caught,” your eyes wander the empty hallway but there was little to no sense of urgency in your voice.

“So? Let them catch us,” he whispers, “I wouldn’t mind being caught being romantic with the prettiest idol,” his face so close to yours you can barely feel his lips.

“So sappy,” you smile and he laughs.

“Just for you,” he closes the gap and kisses you like the world is going to disappear. For the first time in a very long time, you felt carefree.

[pillow-coded]

To Have and To Hold — Chapter 12

Summary: Some absences are louder than words. Spencer can’t focus, and Y/N can’t seem to move forward. An old routine brings them face to face again Couple: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn Series (NSFW, 18+) Content Warnings: hurt/comfort, lots of yearning and regretting from Y/N and Spencer, feelings of child abandonment Word Count: 9k

Series Masterlist

I like to think I’m someone who can handle tough situations. But the truth is… I’m really not.

No matter how much I try to prepare myself for the worst, when it actually comes, I fall apart. Every single time. It’s like my brain can catalogue every terrible outcome, run a thousand simulations of what could go wrong—and still be blindsided when it actually does.

Like after Hankel… after Maeve…

I thought I’d braced for every possibility. Told myself I could stay detached, that logic would shield me. But I still ended up addicted, broken, begging for clarity in a place that offered none. I still sat in that room after Maeve died, staring at the silence like maybe if I thought hard enough, she’d come back.

And now… now it’s happening again. Not with a killer or a hostage situation—just with a four-year-old and her mother. Just with a moment I didn’t handle right. A flash of fear that turned me into someone I never wanted them to see. And I keep replaying it, like if I study it enough, I’ll find the exact second I could’ve fixed it.

I haven’t been able to read a single page in five days. Which, for me, is like forgetting how to breathe. The books are still there—lined up neatly along my desk at Quantico, stacked on my nightstand at home—spines worn and familiar. But they might as well be written in a language I’ve never seen.

I open one during lunch, stare at the same paragraph, and close it again before the first sentence even registers. JJ asked if I was okay earlier. I told her I was just tired.

But I think something broke when I walked out of that apartment. And no matter how many hours I sit at my desk pretending otherwise, I can’t seem to fix it.

I can’t stop thinking about it.

The way Maddie’s face crumpled when I raised my voice. How her lip trembled. How Y/N came rushing in like I’d struck her, like I’d become some awful version of myself I’ve spent years trying to keep buried. Like she was finally seeing it. The version I tried to warn her about. The one she didn’t want to believe was real.

I keep replaying it—frame by frame—like a crime scene I can’t solve. Maddie flinching. Y/N’s eyes widening. My own voice, sharp and unfamiliar, cutting through the air like a warning shot. I wasn’t even angry. Not really. Just scared. But fear has never excused the damage it causes, and I felt it the moment I saw them both step back. Like I’d crossed some invisible line I can’t uncross.

She told me once that I was gentle. That I had a softness most people wouldn’t expect. I didn’t say anything then, just smiled, because part of me wanted to believe it too.

But maybe I’m not. Maybe I was never soft. Maybe I’ve just been careful.

And the second I wasn’t—just one second—I proved every quiet fear I’ve ever had about myself.

Maybe I am the live wire. Exposed. Dangerous. Something that sparks even when I don’t mean to.

And maybe I was stupid to think someone like her—someone warm and real and trying her best—could want someone like me near her child.

“Spencer, you’ve been staring at that document for ten minutes,”

JJ’s voice pulls me out of my daze, briefly, but she did.

“Yeah… I’m a little distracted… I think I just need some coffee.”

Before she could say or ask anything else, I get up abruptly and practically speed walk to the kitchenette.

I can feel her watching me as I leave. JJ’s always been too good at reading me—gentle when I need it, firm when I don’t want it. And right now, I don’t want it. I don’t want anyone to look too closely and see what I already know: that I’m barely keeping it together.

The kitchenette is empty, mercifully. I go through the motions—grabbing a mug, pouring coffee that’s been sitting too long on the warmer. It tastes burnt and metallic, but I take a sip anyway, like bitterness might shock me back into functioning.

It doesn’t.

It only reminds me of her.

Of that morning—the morning after I stayed.

The apartment had smelled like something out of a movie. Warm coffee and sugar and… blueberries. I remember blinking awake to the soft clatter of dishes and the faintest hum of music from Maddie’s cartoons in the background.

She made the coffee exactly how I like it. Exactly. Four sugars stirred in before I even got out of bed—just like she’d seen me do once, at that little coffee shop. The one we went to after the park on our second date—It wasn’t a date. Not really. Just… a shared moment. A comfortable afternoon with too much awkward smiling and not enough air in the room.

And still—she remembered.

She made blueberry pancakes too. Said it was Maddie’s idea, but I saw the way she watched me take that first bite, like she hoped I’d love them. Like part of her was holding her breath until I did.

I did.

They were soft and warm and just sweet enough to undo me. I hadn’t had a morning like that in… years, maybe. Quiet. Thoughtful. Wanted.

Now all I have is this scorched office coffee and the echo of what it used to taste like when it came from her hands.

I should call her.

I should drive up to her apartment and tell her how sorry I am. How much I miss her. How I can’t sleep without imagining Maddie’s tiny hand in mine, or the way Y/N’s voice softens when she says my name. How I’d trade every book in my apartment, every fact I’ve ever memorized, just to hear her say it again.

But I don’t move.

I just stand there with this bitter mug in my hands, paralyzed by every possibility. What if she doesn’t answer? What if she does—and it’s different now? What if Maddie hides behind her legs instead of running to me?

What if I already ruined it?

My grip tightens around the handle, knuckles going white. I should call. I should.

But the longer I stand here, the more I convince myself that maybe she’s better off. That maybe silence is the only thing I can offer now that won’t make everything worse.

The door creaks behind me. I don’t turn.

“I wasn’t finished talking to you,” JJ says softly.

I close my eyes.

She doesn’t push, not right away. Just walks to the counter, leans her hip against it, and waits. That’s the thing about her—she knows silence can be louder than any question.

“I told you JJ, I’m just distracted. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“You mean last night as in the entire week? You look like hell.”

I huff out something that’s supposed to be a laugh. “Thanks.”

She shrugs. “I’m not trying to be mean. I’m trying to get you to admit you’re spiraling.”

I don’t answer.

She crosses her arms, gives me that patented mom-friend stare that somehow feels gentler than it looks. “Spencer, you haven’t read during lunch once this week. You didn’t even correct Anderson yesterday when he said serial killers and psychopaths were the same thing.”

“I was… busy.”

“You were staring at a water stain on the ceiling.”

I sigh and rub a hand over my face. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I will be.”

She softens, just a little. “Talk to me.”

And I want to—I do. My throat aches with everything I haven’t said, but the words stay lodged somewhere behind my teeth. I stare down at the coffee in my hands like it might offer a script. A way out.

“Is this about that Maddie?”

My head snaps up. “How do you know about Maddie?”

JJ doesn’t flinch. Just lifts a brow, calm as ever. “You slipped and said her name on that missing girl’s case.”

I swallow hard. “Oh yeah...”

I look back down at my coffee. The surface has gone still. Cold.

“She’s four,” I murmur, voice barely audible. “She likes sparkly shoes and sticker books and is a fairy princess.”

“How’d you meet her?”

“A couple of months back, I was at the Library and ran into her. She was lost and couldn’t find her mother, I helped her calm down until her mom came to find her,”

JJ doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches me, like she’s letting the picture form on its own.

“And her mom?” she asks softly.

I hesitate. “Y/N.”

Her name feels like something I’m not supposed to say out loud. Like if I do, it’ll make all of this more real. Harder to bury.

“She was… grateful,” I add, clumsily. “Said thank you. We talked for a bit. Then I saw them again at the library the next week.”

JJ doesn’t interrupt. Just lets me fill the silence at my own pace.

“She invited me to lunch after that because Maddie wouldn’t stop talking about me,” I say, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth before it fades again. “Said I could do magic. Really, it was just sleight of hand—coin behind the ear, that sort of thing—but she looked at me like I was some kind of wizard.”

JJ’s gaze softens. “Sounds like someone was smitten.”

I huff a breath, not quite a laugh. “Yeah. I was—I mean… am. We’ve been hanging out ever since. Museums. Parks. Pizza nights. Quiet mornings. She’s…” I trail off, words catching like thread. “She’s everything I didn’t think I could have.”

“So why are you moping around like it’s the end of the world?”

“I messed everything up.”

JJ doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t try to rush in with a fix. Just waits, like she knows there’s more I need to say.

“First, I practically slapped her in the face with a friendzone sign at the planetarium,” I mutter, my voice dry and bitter. “Then she kissed me, and I… I literally ran away. Like a teenager.”

JJ blinks. “Wait—ran away?”

I groan and rub my face, the shame crawling down my neck like heat. “I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t—I wasn’t rejecting her. I just… I didn’t know what to do. My brain short-circuited.”

“She kissed you and your brain exploded,” she says, lips twitching.

“Basically.”

“And then?”

I exhale. “Then I freaked out. I accidentally broke one of Maddie’s toys, and she started crying and throwing a tantrum. I was trying to get her to calm down, but I—I snapped. Not at her, but near her. Loud enough to make her cry.”

My voice breaks a little. “Loud enough to make Y/N look at me like I was someone else.”

JJ’s expression shifts—no more teasing now. Just that deep, steady concern I know so well.

“Spence…”

“It gets worse. I was trying to apologize, to defend myself I guess… She said…” I struggle, the words feeling like bile, even though they were true.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped breathing until JJ reaches out, her fingers brushing my sleeve, grounding me.

“She said, ‘you’re not her dad, so stop trying to be,’” I repeat, quieter this time. Like maybe saying it softer will dull the edge.

And still, it cuts.

JJ’s brows draw in, sympathy blooming across her face, but she doesn’t say anything yet. Just waits. Like she knows I’m not done.

“I know she didn’t mean it,” I add quickly, too quickly. “She was angry, overwhelmed. People say things they don’t mean when they’re—when they’re scared. I know that. Rationally, I know that. But it felt…”

I trail off, trying to find the word. None of them feel big enough.

“It felt final,” I whisper.

JJ nods slowly, her eyes soft with understanding.

“I just stood there. Completely frozen. I didn’t know what to say. I—I looked at her, and I looked at Maddie, and I couldn’t breathe. I thought maybe she was right. Maybe I overstepped. Maybe I built this entire little world in my head and forgot that I was never supposed to be part of theirs. Because she’s not wrong.”

I stop, trying to calm myself before continuing.

“I’m not her dad. I’m just the weird guy they met a couple months ago, who got too close for comfort. I have no right acting like a parent to Maddie, when I’m not. I’m not her father, and I have no idea how to be her father anyway.”

I force out a shaky breath, like saying it aloud might make the guilt a little smaller. It doesn’t.

“I don’t know how to do that kind of love, JJ. Not in real time. Not with a kid who looks at me like I’m invincible and a woman who—” I falter, the words sticking like splinters in my throat. “—who makes me want to be someone I’m not sure I know how to be.”

JJ steps closer, but she doesn’t speak yet. Just lets the silence sit, heavy but not suffocating.

“I keep thinking about all the things I could mess up,” I admit. “What if I teach her the wrong thing? What if I panic again and say something that sticks to her brain forever? What if I end up like my dad—leaving when things get hard? Or worse, like my mom—unpredictable and broken in ways she never asked for.”

The words feel ugly coming out. Selfish. Unfair.

But JJ doesn’t flinch.

“Spence,” she says softly, “I know you’re scared. I know you’ve spent most of your life believing you’re too much—or not enough—for the people you care about. But that little girl didn’t see any of that. She just saw someone who made her feel safe. Loved. Like magic was real.”

I blink fast, throat tight.

“And Y/N?” JJ adds, her voice dropping. “She let you into her life. That doesn’t happen by accident. You didn’t sneak your way in. She opened the door. And she didn’t do that because she thought you’d be perfect—she did it because she saw the way you looked at her daughter. Because you showed up. Over and over again.”

“But maybe that’s not enough,” I whisper.

JJ shakes her head. “It’s more than enough. And if you don’t believe me, then go ask them yourself. Talk to her. Apologize, if you need to. But don’t just disappear. Don’t let this fear write the ending for you.”

I stare down at the cold coffee in my hands.

“I can’t do it, JJ… I just can’t. The probabilities of her slamming her door in my face are way too high.”

My voice cracks halfway through the sentence, and I hate how small it sounds—how desperate.

JJ sighs, slow and quiet. “Since when do you let probabilities stop you?”

“I don’t… but this isn’t a case file,” I mutter. “This isn’t a statistic I can out-analyze or manipulate. It’s… it’s her. It’s Maddie. If I knock and she doesn’t open that door, I don’t know if I’ll come back from that.”

JJ takes the mug from my hands and sets it gently on the counter.

“You will,” she says. “Because you’ve come back from worse.”

I look at her, and she’s not smiling anymore—she’s not teasing. She’s just looking at me the way she always does when I forget how much I’ve survived. How much I’m still standing.

“I’ve seen you on the floor, Spencer. After Hankel. After Maeve. After prison. And every single time, you thought that was the end. That you were too broken, too far gone, too dangerous to be loved.”

She takes a breath, her voice thickening. “And every time, you proved yourself wrong.”

I blink hard, jaw tightening.

“She’s not slamming the door,” JJ adds. “She’s probably sitting behind it right now, hoping you’ll knock.”

That catches something in my chest. I don’t let it show. Not much.

“I don’t know what I’d even say.”

“Start with ‘I’m sorry,’” she offers. “End with ‘I missed you.’ Say the rest with your eyes if you have to. Just… go.”

Silence settles for a beat.

I wish it were that easy. I wish all it took was showing up and saying the right combination of words. But it’s not. Not for me.

I’m too much of a coward to do that. I can’t just go up there and apologize. Not when I know she’ll look at me with that same expression she had that day—like she didn’t recognize me. Like maybe she never really did.

“I… I have to get back to work.”

JJ shifts like she wants to stop me, but I’m already moving. Before she can say anything else, I bolt—quietly, but abruptly—back to the bullpen, making a beeline to my desk.

I sit down, open a file, and pretend I’m reading.

The words blur instantly.

Across the room, I can feel her still watching me. Not in judgment. Just… in that way she does when she knows I’m lying to myself.

And maybe I can lie to her. Maybe I can even lie to the team.

But I can’t lie to the ache in my chest that sounds a lot like a four-year-old saying my name.

I sit there for a while, motionless behind my desk, the file still open in front of me like it means something. Eventually, my hand drifts toward my wallet.

It’s tucked inside the smallest pocket, folded once to protect the edges.

The photo from the planetarium.

The three of us, crammed behind that cardboard astronaut cutout—Maddie in the middle, popping her head through the smallest circle with stars on her cheeks and a juice stain on her collar. Y/N stood to one side, her expression soft and caught mid-laugh. And me… visibly unsure of what to do with my hands, but smiling anyway.

One of the staff had offered to take it. Maddie giggled out “moon cheese.”

It was stupid. Silly. One of those tourist-trap moments meant to be forgotten in a week.

But I carry it like it’s sacred.

I smooth my thumb across the top edge—careful, reverent. The ink from the date I scribbled at the corner was already starting to wear where Maddie’s head is, just a little from how often I’ve handled it. She looks so happy. So safe.

And I look… happy too.

Not just pretending.

Happy in a way I didn’t think I could be again.

It hits me like a quiet wave. The kind that doesn’t crash so much as pull.

I could have had this. I did have this. And I let fear take it away from me.

“Are those them?”

The voice is quiet, cautious.

I startle slightly and look up. JJ’s standing a few feet away, not intruding—just there. Her expression is soft, her arms crossed loosely over her chest like she already knows the answer.

I don’t say anything at first. Just glance back down at the photo in my hands.

“They look happy,” she says after a moment.

“They were,” I murmur. “We were.”

She takes a step closer, eyes flicking to the picture. “You wrote the date on it?”

I nod, almost embarrassed. “I didn’t want to forget. It felt… important.”

She doesn’t tease me for it. Doesn’t smile like it’s cute. She just nods, like she understands exactly why I’d do something like that.

“I think they still are,” she says gently.

“Still what?”

“Happy. Or… waiting to be.” Her voice drops, like she’s afraid if she says it too loud, it won’t be true. “You didn’t lose them, Spence. Not unless you stay here pretending like that picture’s the only part that was real.”

I blink hard, forcing the tears back.

JJ takes a breath. “It’s Saturday, right?”

I nod.

“Then I think I know where they are.”

My week was rough. Not in the usual tired-mom, no-sleep, too-many-dishes kind of way. It was the kind that settled in my bones—quiet, constant. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the way his voice cracked when he snapped. About the look on his face when I said what I said. About how fast he walked away, like he couldn’t get out fast enough. Like leaving was easier than looking back.

And I just let him.

I shouldn’t have been so hard on him. I should’ve let him explain himself. Should’ve taken a breath, sat down, talked to him instead of throwing my pain at him like it would somehow make mine feel smaller.

I let my resentment over the planetarium and the kiss get to me. Let it fester. Let it convince me that pushing him away would protect us—protect Maddie. But it didn’t. It just left a hollow space where he used to be.

And the truth is… he didn’t mean to scare her. Of course he didn’t. He panicked. She had something in her mouth that could’ve choked her, and he reacted. Loud, yes. Sharp, yes. But not cruel. Not violent. Not dangerous.

He was scared. And I turned that fear against him.

I saw the look on his face when I said it—“You’re not her dad, so stop trying to be.”

It was like I’d hit him. Like I’d taken everything tender between us and burned it to ash right in front of him. And the worst part is… I knew it would hurt him. I said it to hurt him.

Because I was hurting too.

Because it was easier to lash out than admit I cared. That I cared too much. That he mattered in ways I wasn’t ready to say out loud.

I spent so much time guarding myself, convincing the part of me that started to hope that it wasn’t real—that it was temporary, that he’d leave eventually. I was so focused on bracing for the fall that I didn’t let myself enjoy the flight.

I hadn’t realized how much I liked the light.

I just focused on how it burned.

And now he’s gone. And I don’t know if he’s coming back.

And it’s my fault.

The worst part is he’s everywhere, but he’s not.

I see him in my couch, laying down, sleeping with my daughter in his arms. I see him in Maddie’s princess tea parties—how she carefully pours pretend tea into an extra cup she still sets out for him. I see him in the park, helping her feed the ducks, crouched beside her like the world slowed down just for them.

Monday, Maddie wore his cardigan. She said that this way he would feel how sorry she was for making him angry, and he would come back.

I could only bring her to my arms and tell her he wasn’t angry at her.

She asked me when he’d come back… I could only say soon, but I knew that wasn’t true.

Because he hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted.

And still, she believed in him. In us. More than I did.

I didn’t know how to explain to a four-year-old that sometimes adults get scared too.

That sometimes love can be terrifying, not because it’s wrong, but because it’s right.

Because it asks you to stay when everything in you has only ever learned to run.

Because it feels too good, too fragile, like one wrong word might shatter it.

So I lied.

I told her soon.

And she smiled, like that was enough.

Like the world made sense again.

And I just held her tighter, trying to stop the crack in my chest from splintering any further.

On Tuesday, Maddie drew a picture at daycare.

Stick-figure me. Stick-figure Maddie. And a tall stick-figure in a sweater vest with wild brown hair labeled, in shaky crayon handwriting, “Spensr.” There was a sun in the corner—orange and pink with a smiley face—and a little speech bubble above his head that read, “I’m not mad.”

The teacher handed it to me during pickup with a big grin. “She worked so hard on this one,” she said, like it was a masterpiece.

I smiled back the best I could. With my mouth, not my eyes.

We didn’t talk about it on the way home. Maddie chatted about snack time and how someone brought stickers, but the picture sat quietly in her backpack, burning a hole through the zipper.

I waited until she was in the bath before I pulled it out again. Spread it on the kitchen table like it was fragile. Holy, even. Her tiny, chubby fingers had colored the whole background sky-blue. She’d even drawn in his .

She remembered everything.

I stared at it until my eyes blurred.

I almost put it on the fridge.

But I couldn’t.

Instead, I folded it—carefully, like it might break—and slid it into the back of the drawer with the batteries and the scissors and the coupons I never used. Not because I didn’t love it. But because seeing it every day might have destroyed me.

Maddie drew us as a family.

She believed he’d come back.

And I didn’t have it in me to take that hope away from her. Even if it felt like holding it was slicing me open, piece by piece.

That night, as I tucked her into bed, she looked up at me with her bunny pressed to her chest and said, “I want to give the picture to Spencer.”

My heart stopped for a second.

“We can leave it at the library,” she added quickly, like she’d been planning this. “That’s where we found him, remember? So he’ll find it again.”

I smoothed her hair away from her face, tucking the strand that always fell over her forehead behind her ear. “I don’t know if he’ll be there, baby,” I said softly.

She just shrugged. “That’s okay. If he comes back, he’ll find it.”

She said it with so much certainty, like it was a fact. Like it was already written in the stars.

I didn’t answer. Because I couldn’t lie again. And I couldn’t say the truth either.

So I kissed her forehead, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and whispered, “Goodnight, baby”

Later that night, I sat at the kitchen table again. The drawing was back in my hands.

My thumb traced the little speech bubble—“I’m not mad.”

And for just a second, I let myself pretend I believed it.

Pretend he’d come back.

Pretend he meant to.

On Wednesday, Maddie asked if we could make blueberry pancakes again.

It was the first thing she said when she woke up—before “good morning,” before asking for her usual bunny cup or her show. Just, “Can we make pancakes like we did with Spencer?”

I hesitated. “You really want pancakes today?”

She nodded, serious. “The blueberry kind. He liked them.”

So we did.

She dragged her stool over to the counter, and I let her pour the milk and crack the eggs, even though most of the eggshell ended up in the batter. She giggled through the whole thing. Said she wanted them to taste exactly the same, so he’d come back faster.

When they were done, she asked if we could save a plate for him.

I told her I didn’t think he’d be stopping by.

She frowned but didn’t argue. Just put one on a napkin and wrapped it in foil anyway.

“He can have it tomorrow,” she said, placing it carefully in the fridge.

I didn’t throw it out.

Not even when it started to go soft at the edges.

I just kept opening the fridge, staring at it like maybe it meant something.

Like maybe it could bring him home.

On Thursday, Maddie asked for magic.

It was during her bath, when the bubbles were starting to disappear and her fingers had pruned into little raisins. I was sitting on the floor beside the tub, scrolling mindlessly through my phone, only half-listening as she babbled about mermaids and sparkly castles and how the rubber duck was now the queen of the underwater kingdom.

Then, out of nowhere, she looked at me and asked, “Mommy, can you do the coin trick?”

I blinked. “What coin trick?”

“The one Spencer does. When it disappears and then shows up behind my ear.”

I set my phone down slowly. “Oh, baby… I don’t know how to do that one.”

She frowned, confused. “But you’re a grown-up.”

I smiled, small and tired. “I know. I’m just not that kind of grown-up.”

She sank a little lower into the water, her expression thoughtful.

“Do you think I can do it?” she asked after a moment.

“I bet you can,” I said. “But you’ll have to practice a lot.”

“Can I practice with Spencer?” she asked quietly, like the question itself might break something if she said it too loud.

I didn’t answer right away. My throat had gone too tight, and the steam from the bath felt suddenly suffocating.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” I said softly. “Maybe. If he wants to.”

She went quiet after that. Just let me rinse the bubbles from her hair without another word.

Later, when she was in her pajamas and tucked into bed, she whispered, “I think he’s magic, too.”

I paused in the doorway.

“What do you mean?”

Maddie rolled onto her side, hugging her bunny close. “Spencer. He made the coin disappear, but also… he made me feel better. That’s magic, right?”

And I had to leave the room.

I had to walk into the hallway and cover my mouth with both hands.

Because yes.

Yes, that was magic.

And I let it slip away.

Friday was the worst out of them all.

Not because anything dramatic happened. Not because I broke down or screamed into a pillow or finally worked up the courage to call him. No—Friday was worse because of how quiet it was. Because it snuck up on me.

Because Maddie asked me to read her the storybook Spencer made for her.

We had just finished dinner—mac and cheese with carrot sticks, one of the few things I could get her to eat without complaint—and I was cleaning up the table when she padded over in her fuzzy socks, the book clutched tightly in her little hands.

She didn’t even say it right away. Just held it up, eyes wide and hopeful, the way kids do when they already know the answer they want.

“Can you read it?” she asked softly. “Please mommy?”

“Baby, we’ve read this one a lot, are you sure you don’t want a different one?”

“No, mommy, I want this one. Spencer knows when I read it, he can tell with his magic,”

I froze. Just for a second. My hands still smelled like soap and pasta cheese, and I had a damp dish towel clutched between my fingers. I remember the way her voice sounded when she said it—so sure, so matter-of-fact. Like this wasn’t a wish or a maybe or a game. Like it was truth.

Spencer knows when I read it.

He can tell with his magic.

I could’ve told her that wasn’t how it worked. That Spencer didn’t have magic. That books were just books, and people didn’t come back just because you missed them hard enough.

But I didn’t say any of that.

I just dried my hands. And nodded.

“Okay,” I said gently. “Let’s go get ready for bed.”

She ran up the stairs, clutching the book to her chest like it was sacred.

And maybe it was.

It kind of is.

I followed slowly. My legs felt heavier than they should’ve, like every step pulled more memories to the surface—him in the hallway, balancing a tray of pancakes; him sitting cross-legged on the floor, letting Maddie decorate him in stickers; him on the couch with that book open in his lap, reading in silly voices, pausing after every sentence to let Maddie ask why.

When I got to her room, she was already tucked in, holding the storybook between her hands like it might disappear if she let go.

I sat beside her. She crawled into my side without hesitation, cheek on my arm, bunny in hand.

“You have to do it the way he does,” she whispered.

I nodded again.

And I tried.

“Once upon a time, in a world made of books and stars and peanut butter toast…”

But it didn’t sound like Spencer.

It didn’t sparkle.

She didn’t interrupt at first. Just listened. Quiet. Still.

Then, maybe three pages in, she said, “You forgot the part where the flower giggles.”

“What?”

“Page three. Spencer makes it giggle”

I looked down at the illustration. A little bluebell with a smiley face.

“I’m sorry, baby. I forgot.”

She nodded, but I felt her curl in tighter. Like maybe she was trying to make herself smaller. Like if she folded up enough, the ache would be easier to carry.

I kept going.

Tried my best.

Used the voices. Sang the galaxy song. Pointed out the bunny constellation in the sky like he always did.

But it wasn’t working.

She didn’t laugh. She didn’t smile.

She just stared at the page, her little brow furrowed, lips pressed into a straight line.

Like something was missing. Like someone was.

After a long pause, she whispered, “That’s not the voice.”

I tried to keep my smile steady. “I know,” I said gently. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re supposed to say it like Spencer,” she murmured, lower this time. “He makes it sparkle.”

I set the book down in my lap, just for a second. “I’m sorry, baby… I just can’t do it like he does.”

She went quiet again. Then, so soft I almost didn’t hear it:

“Can you ask him to come and read it to me?”

My heart dropped like a stone in my chest.

“I can’t, sweetheart. He’s… he’s busy.”

She looked up at me then—really looked. Her eyes were glassy, bottom lip trembling. “Mommy, you’ve been saying that all week.”

“I know but—”

“Is he mad at me?”

Her voice broke. Just a little. Just enough to destroy me.

“No, no, honey—no,” I said instantly, setting the book aside and gathering her into my arms. “He’s not mad at you. Not even a little.”

“Then why did he leave?”

She sounded so small. Like she was trying so hard not to cry. Like if she stayed quiet enough, maybe the answer wouldn’t hurt as much.

I blinked hard, holding her tighter. “He just needed time to think, baby. That’s all.”

She pulled back to look at me. Her face was pinched, confused. “But I’m sorry about the tiara. I didn’t mean to scream. I just— I was just sad.”

“I know, sweet girl,” I whispered. “He knows, too.”

“But if he’s not mad, why won’t he come back?”

I didn’t have an answer.

Not one that wouldn’t make everything worse.

I just kissed her forehead and pulled her close again, like holding her tighter might somehow keep all of it from falling apart.

She curled into me, clutching her bunny like it was the only thing left holding her together.

“Maybe he doesn’t like me anymore,” she said into my shoulder.

And that’s when I broke.

That’s when the first tear slipped down my cheek and landed in her hair.

“No, Maddie. No,” I said, firmer now, willing her to believe me. “He loves you. So, so much. Okay? This isn’t your fault.”

She didn’t respond. Just let me rock her slowly, breathing in shaky little bursts that made her back tremble against my chest.

I stayed like that long after she’d fallen asleep.

Just thinking.

Of him.

Of us.

Of everything and anything.

And I decided—somewhere between guilt and exhaustion—that maybe if we slipped back into our old routine, the one before Spencer, we could go back to how we were. Back to something that didn’t ache when I blinked. Something safe. Familiar. Something I could control.

Saturday morning.

I woke up early and made chocolate-chip pancakes for my Maddie.

She used to call them “happy cakes.” We made them together almost every weekend before he came into our lives. I’d let her stir the batter while I handled the stove, and she’d always sneak chocolate chips when she thought I wasn’t looking. It had been our thing.

She woke up to the smell.

Came bounding into the kitchen with sleepy hair and pajama pants twisted sideways, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. And for a moment—just a moment—she looked like she did months ago.

Long gone was the sadness from yesterday.

She smiled so wide it made my chest ache. “You made pancakes!”

“I did,” I said, forcing a smile of my own. “Chocolate-chip ones. Just like we used to.”

She climbed into her chair and kicked her feet under the table. “Does that mean we’re going to the library, too?”

I froze for half a second.

But I nodded.

Because what else was I supposed to do?

“Yep,” I said. “Library day.”

I served her a stack shaped like a clumsy heart. She giggled when the syrup dribbled down the side like a river. For ten whole minutes, it felt okay. She talked about which books she wanted to check out, asked if she could wear her fairy skirt, wondered if they still had the stuffed dragon in the reading corner.

She didn’t mention him.

Neither did I.

But I felt it—how the space he left still hovered in the room. In the way I grabbed two travel mugs instead of one. In the way Maddie reached for her favorite storybook and then stopped herself, as if remembering that it didn’t sparkle the same without him.

Still, I packed up our bags. Brushed her hair. Tied her shoes.

We were going to the library.

Because that’s what we did on Saturdays.

Because routines were supposed to make things better.

Because pretending we were whole was easier than admitting we weren’t.

The walk there was quiet. Maddie held my hand the whole time, skipping every few steps like she was trying to shake off the last of her sadness. The sun hadn’t fully broken through the clouds yet—everything still looked soft and pale, like the world hadn’t quite woken up either.

When we reached the library steps, she stopped short.

“Do you think the fish tank is still there?” she asked, squinting through the glass doors.

“I’m sure it is,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “You can check while I return the books.”

She nodded eagerly and ran ahead, her little shoes tapping rhythmically against the floor. I followed behind slowly, my hands suddenly clammy against the borrowed books I clutched to my chest.

It felt strange walking in without him. Without hearing the quiet sound of his voice beside me, telling Maddie about whatever constellation was on the ceiling mural that day. Without his fingers brushing mine as he took the book bag from me, always too gentle, always careful.

I tried not to think about it. I made myself focus on the way Maddie waved at the librarian, the way she crouched down to say hello to the turtles in the tank. I reminded myself why we were here—to prove to myself that we were okay. That I could do this without him. That we could go back to before.

But then I saw him.

He was in the fantasy section, crouched by the graphic novels. His back was turned, but I knew it was him instantly.

I stopped breathing.

He looked exactly the same—messy hair, sweater sleeves pushed halfway up his arms, a paperback in one hand. I would’ve known him anywhere.

And then Maddie saw him too.

She gasped. Loudly. Gasped like she’d just spotted Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.

“SPENCER!”

She was already halfway across the room before I could blink.

She launched herself into him so hard he nearly dropped the book.

He caught her—of course he did—stumbling back a little but smiling, stunned, like he hadn’t believed this was real until her arms were around his neck.

“Whoa—Maddie,” he breathed, hugging her back instantly. “Hi.”

Her voice was muffled against his sweater. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

I couldn’t move.

I just stood there at the edge of the aisle, clutching the strap of my bag so tightly my knuckles turned white.

He looked up.

Saw me.

And everything in me stilled.

There was so much in that look. Apology. Fear. Longing. All of it.

I didn’t know what to do.

I didn’t know if I should walk over or walk away.

Maddie leaned back and put her hands on either side of his face like she needed to make sure he was real. “I thought you were mad,” she said. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”

Spencer looked like he’d been stabbed.

“No,” he said instantly, shaking his head. “No, Maddie. Never. I’m not mad at you.”

“Why were you gone?”

“I just… I had a lot of work, sweetheart.”

It was the gentlest lie I’d ever heard.

And she almost believed him.

She blinked slowly, still holding his face, and said, “You didn’t answer when I talked to you in my head.”

Spencer’s mouth parted—just a fraction. I saw it hit him. That she really had been calling for him. In her thoughts. Her dreams. Out loud, even, when she thought I wasn’t listening.

“I tried to,” he whispered. “I wanted to. I just— I didn’t know how.”

“You could’ve come.”

“I know.” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Maddie.”

She nodded against him. Her arms wrapped tighter around his neck.

And then she whispered, “I wore your cardigan. It still smells like you.”

I almost turned around.

I almost left.

Because the sound Spencer made—somewhere between a laugh and a sob—broke something in me. He clutched her closer and kissed the top of her head like it was instinct, like he’d been missing this as much as she had.

My throat felt like it was closing.

I didn’t know what I was walking into when I came here. I thought maybe we’d pretend not to see each other. Maybe he’d nod politely and slip out the back before I could say anything. I thought I could shield her from it. Protect her.

But here they were.

Wrapped up in each other again like no time had passed. Like no silence had ever cracked them apart.

And suddenly, Maddie looked up and saw me.

Her eyes lit up like Christmas morning.

“Mommy, he came back!” she shouted, twisting in Spencer’s arms. “He came back!”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “I see that, baby.”

“Can he come to the fish tank with us?” she asked, already bouncing. “Please?”

Spencer’s eyes met mine over the top of her head.

There was something there—uncertainty, guilt, maybe even fear. Like he was waiting for me to say no. To shut it down. To walk out with Maddie’s hand in mine and leave him behind for good.

But I couldn’t.

Not after this week.

Not after last night.

“Actually, baby,” I said gently, “why don’t you go wait for us in the kiddie section? I have to talk to Spencer for a minute.”

Maddie tilted her head. “But—”

“Just for a little bit,” I promised. “You can pick out books, but don’t leave that section. Okay?”

She looked between us, eyes narrowing the way she always did when she sensed something grown-up happening. But eventually, she nodded.

“Okay,” she said softly. Then she turned to Spencer and added, “Don’t leave again.”

His whole face folded.

“I won’t,” he said. “I promise.”

She squeezed his fingers once before letting go and skipping down the aisle toward the children’s corner, where the low shelves and beanbags waited.

I watched her until she disappeared around the bend.

Only then did I turn to him.

The second I met his eyes, the mask slipped.

He looked tired. More than tired. Like he hadn’t slept all week. Like he’d been trying to outrun something that kept catching up.

“Hi,” he said.

It broke something in me. That word. Simple. Fragile.

“Hi,” I echoed.

We stood there in the middle of the library, the weight of everything pressing down on the space between us. All the things we didn’t say. All the things we shouted without meaning to.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” he said after a moment, voice low.

“I didn’t either” I said, though it didn’t sound as sharp as it should have. “This is our Saturday routine. It was before you. I was just… trying to go back.”

He nodded, slowly. “Did it help?”

“No,” I said honestly. “Not even a little.”

He looked down at his hands. They were trembling. Just slightly.

“Y/N… you have no idea how sorry I am… about everything. The planetarium, the… the running away, the yelling.”

His voice cracked on that last word. It landed somewhere in my ribs, sharp and unrelenting.

He didn’t look at me when he said it. Just stared at his hands like they were something dangerous. Like he didn’t trust them. Like he was afraid of what they’d done, or what they could still do.

“I never meant to hurt her,” he continued, voice low. “God, I never meant to scare her. Or you. I just… I panicked. I wasn’t thinking. And when you said what you said, I—”

He finally looked up.

“You were right. I’m not her dad,” he said, almost to himself. “You were right. I’m not. I’m just some guy who reads her storybooks and brings her stickers and I had no right to snap at her like that.”

“Stop,” I said, sharper than I intended. “Don’t do that.”

He blinked, startled.

“I didn’t mean what I said, Spence. I was just angry… I mean you aren’t her dad, but you’ve been there for her more than anyone else… you know besides me.”

He stared at me, eyes wide like he didn’t quite believe it. Like maybe he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you like that. I was butt-hurt, and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Y/n—”

“No, I mean it. you have no idea how much she’s— we’ve missed you, how sorry I am, how terrified I was that we’d never see you again.”

“You never called,” he said, not accusing—just… stating it. Like a fact he didn’t know what to do with.

I winced. “I was scared. I was embarrassed.”

He nodded, jaw tight. “So was I.”

We stood there for a beat, not looking at each other directly. It was too much. Too bare.

“I thought about it every day,” I admitted, voice low. “Picking up the phone. Just… hearing your voice. But I didn’t know what I’d say.”

“You could’ve said anything,” he murmured. “I would’ve picked up. I would’ve just listened.”

“I didn’t think I deserved that.”

That made him look at me. Not harsh, not wounded. Just there. Fully present, eyes searching mine like he was still trying to figure out if any of this was real.

“You were angry,” he said after a moment. “You had every right to be.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I wanted you to go.”

“I didn’t want to go.”

“Then why did you?”

He hesitated. Swallowed.

“Because I felt like I’d broken something I couldn’t fix. Like the second I raised my voice, I lost the right to be in her life. In yours.”

That hit harder than I was ready for. My throat tightened.

“You didn’t lose anything,” I said, voice soft. “Not really.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then nodded—once, like it hurt.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked quietly. Like he already knew the answer, but couldn’t stand not hearing it.

It took me a moment to answer. But when I did, it was the easiest thing I’d said all week.

“No.”

I watched the relief flood his face, slow and cautious, like he didn’t fully trust it yet.

“We… I want you in my life. I need you in my life.”

His eyes searched mine, slow and stunned, like he was trying to memorize the moment. Like he wasn’t sure he’d get another one like it.

The air between us shifted—quieter, heavier, but in a way that made it easier to breathe. And for the first time in days, we just looked at each other. No fear. No anger. Just everything that had been left unsaid filling the space between our breaths.

Spencer’s hand twitched slightly at his side. I saw it. Felt the way his fingers wanted to move. To reach.

So I reached first.

Only a little—just enough to brush my fingertips against his. A soft question. He answered by curling his hand around mine, tentative but sure.

My heart climbed up my throat.

He stepped a little closer. Close enough that I could see the freckles on his cheek. The exhaustion in his eyes. The ache. The hope.

“I’m tired of pretending,” he said, voice low and raw. “Pretending I can just be normal around you. Be your friend. Act like I’m not thinking about you all the time.”

I swallowed, stunned still.

“I’ve been so scared to say it,” he went on, almost breathless now. “I keep overthinking it—telling myself it’s too fast, that we only just met a couple of months ago, that I’ll ruin it if I say the wrong thing…”

He looked right at me then. No hiding, no flinching.

“But I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot.”

The breath caught in my chest.

“I like you too, Spence… a lot.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

And for a second, we just hovered there—suspended in something quiet and unfinished.

His nose brushed mine.

My lips parted.

And just as I started to lean in—

“Mommy! You’re taking too long! I want to see the fish tank!”

We both flinched like we’d been caught committing a crime.

Spencer blinked rapidly, stumbling half a step back, and I turned my head so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

Maddie was standing at the end of the aisle, arms crossed, already tapping her little foot in mock impatience.

“We’re coming, baby,” I called, my voice catching somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

She huffed and spun around dramatically, her pigtails swinging as she disappeared back toward the aquarium.

I turned back to Spencer.

His cheeks were flushed. So were mine.

But the smile tugging at his lips—god, it was real.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning too wide. “That was…”

He laughed softly. “Yeah.”

I squeezed his hand—tender, grounding. And with that, we turned toward Maddie, already marching ahead with purpose.

Toward the fish tank.

Toward something that felt, finally, like forward.

Together.

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[killerlookz]

Is It Really You? | Joost Klein

description: Based on the song Is It Really You? by Loathe (aka one of the most beautiful songs of all time i'm being so serious) Following a breakup with your long-term boyfriend, the man you were certain you would marry, a night with your best friend, Joost proves that love may lie elsewhere for you.

content: Joost Klein x f! reader, 18+ suggestive content (no smut), RPF, smoking, mention of drinking, angst, hurt/comfort, breakups, cheating, fluff, best friends to lovers(?).

word count: 3363

"Is it really you...? Let's search the sky for a while, you and I, collide like two stars for a while, you and I."

Your eyes burn as another bitter tear falls down your cheeks, the taste of salt grazing your quivering lips as the droplet drips off your chin. The early summer air was getting cooler as the sun had long been set, a small breeze stinging your tearful eyes as it blew past your face.

"Oh," The word drops painfully from the mouth of the man beside you, as if you had just broken his heart right then and there, "Oh, don't cry." The familiar voice of your best friend was of little comfort now.

You suck in a deep breath, shaky as your chest spasms, struggling to maintain composure. You gaze out at the city that surrounds you, bright and alive with a bustling nightlife, a nightlife you had found yourself so often partaking in. But tonight, as you sat on the roof of your apartment, you were merely an observer, far removed from the fun of the city.

"Five years, Joost." You turn to face the blonde next to you, "five, down the drain."

His face is pained, pink lips pulled downwards as his eyelids fall and eyebrows furrow, "Het spijt me." (I am sorry) He shakes his head.

The last three weeks had been nothing but sorries, to the point the phrase had begun to make you nauseous, your stomach churning as the condolence had left Joost's mouth. Everything about him told you that he actually meant it, but still- you couldn't bear to hear any more sorries.

"I thought I was going to marry him," You turn away from Joost, facing back to the skyline that surrounded you, observing the buildings, and the multitudes of colors that shone from their windows. Your chest ached, you didn't understand how someone you had loved so much and for so long could leave in an instant, seemingly so nonchalantly, with not so much as to even give you a face-to-face goodbye, "Fuck." You mutter, feeling a familiar anger begin to bubble inside you- what a fucking coward.

A trembling hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes that sits beside you, grabbing the warped cardboard, and pulling out another cigarette. Looking into the box, only one remained, had you not been so consumed by your emotions you probably would have felt bad smoking almost the entire pack, considering they weren't yours.

"There's one left," You mutter, tipping the box in Joost's direction, offering him the remaining cigarette, despite the entire pack having been his in the first place.

"I'm ok," He shakes his head, "It's yours."

A small smile pulls at your lips in response to the gesture, but you just cannot take that response,

"No," You push the open cardboard towards him, "Take it. Humor me please." You had hoped he would accept, and indulge you in your shared bad habit together.

Joost reluctantly takes the pack from you, slowly pulling out the single remaining cigarette, and placing it between his lips. You watch as he struggles with the lighter in his hand that is clearly on its last life. With a flick, he's finally able to produce a small, orange flame, just enough to light the end of the cigarette.

He passes the lighter to you, his fingertips lightly brushing your palms as he hands the small, black object over to you. His slight touch sends shivers down your spine, almost making you forget your unfortunate situation for a split second.

Tilting your head down, and using a cupped hand to shield you from the gentle breeze, you attempt to light the cigarette that hangs from your lips. Your finger swipes down the cool metal, but you're unable to produce a spark, the serrated metal wheel is unturning as it bores into your skin. You attempt a few more times, left only with your thumb sore from its rough movements against the hardness of the metal.

"Here," Joost says, clocking your lack of success with the lighter. He leans in towards you, touching the end of his cigarette to yours. You note the proximity between you, his face so close to yours. You can't help but take a moment to admire him, the way his blue eyes glimmer behind the lens of his glasses, how his hair is just the perfect amount of messy, and how the warm colored city lights highlight the angles of his face against the backdrop of night.

Your spark of admiration reminds you of simpler times, of younger years, spent pining over your best friend in all of your teenage awkwardness. You had spent most of your childhood with an insatiable crush on Joost, one that went absolutely nowhere. Minus that one time, the two of you shared a drunken kiss four years ago, but it had meant nothing other than the fact that you were angry at your then-boyfriend, and you had had far too much to drink.

Still, you remember it like it was yesterday, having found out just days prior your boyfriend, Christian, had been hooking up with his ex-girlfriend the whole year you had been together. If you had known then what you know now, you would have left him, but having been dumb and 21 the answer to your problems was fighting fire with fire.

You and Christian had been at a party thrown by a mutual friend, having not spoken to him since you had found out what he had done, you showed up to the party with Joost, who you had, subsequently spent the entire night with. The kiss had taken place after god only knows how many drinks, and a night spent dancing with Joost like he was your boyfriend. You and Joost had found yourselves on a couch in the living room, Christian staring dead at the pair of you from across the room, his eyes burning into you- it had felt as good of a time as ever, Heartless by The Weeknd boomed over the speakers, to give him a taste of his own medicine.

To make a short story even shorter, you and Joost had become the focal point of the party for the remaining length of the song, having had him pushed back on the couch as you laid straddled on top of him, lips locked in a furious kiss, wandering hands exploring each other's bodies in a way that hadn't been entirely appropriate for such a public setting.

Following a heated argument after that incident, you and Christian considered each other even, willing to move on with the relationship as if nothing had happened. Joost didn't feel quite the same, the two of them had been on rocky waters ever since then, which, he didn't mind, he was far from fond of the man you swore up and down you were going to marry one day.

Blinking a few times you return yourself to the present moment, watching as Joost's chest rises, sucking in a breath, stoking the flame of his own cigarette so he can light yours. You inhale as well, which finally allows your cigarette to light.

You smile to thank him, the cigarette still pressed between your lips. You place two fingers on either side of the cigarette, taking a proper drag, feeling a familiar warm prickling in your throat as the smoke enters your lungs.

You face away from Joost to exhale, grey smoke dancing around you as another gust of wind approaches.

"I just don't understand," You start, your voice beginning to waver as memories of the last five years you spent with Christian came back to you, "How could he?" You inhale once more, deeply, hoping that you can receive at least some vague headrush from the nicotine. Exhale. "After all the shit I put up with, he leaves me." You face back to Joost, a grimace forming on your face, "With a text."

You bite at the inside of your cheeks, attempting to suppress the way your lips quiver as a sob threatens to escape you.

Joost's head hangs to the side, sympathy spread across his face,

"I don't think there's anything to understand." He presses the cigarette in his hand up against his lips, taking a quick inhale before speaking again, "He's just a dick."

"Easy for you to say," You sigh, "You're biased, you never liked him."

"Yeah," Joost says, matter-of-factly, "He spent the first year of your relationship fucking his ex-girlfriend."

"I cheated too," You mumble, you had never quite forgiven yourself for that incident, no matter how perfect it had felt in the moment.

"We kissed once while we were drunk." He furrows his eyebrows to take another drag of his cigarette.

"Still cheating," You shrug, even if he did have a fair point, you having kissed Joost in pure spite didn't exactly equal a year's worth of hooking up with someone else, "I mean," You pause to take a drag of your cigarette, "If I was your girlfriend, would you want me kissing other guys- even if it was because you had done something too?"

"If you were my girlfriend I wouldn't have sex with anyone else in the first place."

"That's not my point." You shake your head

"But that's my point." He says in earnest.

You flick your eyes up to look at him to find him staring back at you, his gaze unwavering from where it meets yours. He was right and you shouldn't have let the relationship go on for as long as it did.

With a blink more tears are spilling out of your eyes, unable to hold back your cries much longer.

"I wasted five years of my life," The tears continue to pour down your cheeks, "Five years is a long time."

A small smile appears on Joost's face, a sign of encouragement,

"Someday being with someone for five years will feel like nothing," You watch as the end of his cigarette burns down with another drag, a puff of grey smoke exiting his mouth as he speaks again, his voice softening, "But I know it hurts now."

"Yeah," You concede, hanging your head. "It does."

"I know the last thing you want is the 'it gets better with time' speech, but i promise you, it will."

"I believe you." You cannot look at Joost as you take another drag from the cigarette between your fingers, continuing to stare at the concrete roof of your apartment building as the tears continue to stream down your face. Deep down you know he's right, that one day you'll be with someone for far longer than five years, but it was hard to imagine all of the grief you'd have to push yourself through before getting to that point, mourning the last five years of your life seemed like a daunting challenge ahead.

You push what remains of your cigarette into the concrete, watching as the small flame extinguishes with a small plume of smoke.

"Come here." Joost sighs, slinging an arm around your hunched-over body. Instinctively, your head falls to the side, resting against Joost's shoulder. Moments of affection had been scarce between the two of you since the incident at the party, you knew that part of you feared what sort of emotions would be brought if you let yourself get too close in physical proximity to him.

But now it didn't matter, you were more than receptive of a shoulder to cry on.

The pair of you sit in silence for a moment, both fixated on the dark sky that stretches around you in every direction. The stars are nothing but a faint twinkle tonight, much as they had been every night, something you had gotten used to since moving to the city.

Joost's palm rubs soft circles into your back, lulling your shaky breaths to a stable cadence. You feel heavy as you lay on Joost's shoulder, your eyes burning and your head aching from how much you had been crying.

You can't help but let your mind wander, mostly about the past, about your life before Christian. Tonight had reminded you of old times, of when it was just you and Joost, the pair of you attached at the hip. Neither of you had very many friends growing up, and while you could appreciate your expansive friend groups now, and how much your lives had changed since you were teens, you couldn't help but miss moments like this, moments where you had him all to yourself.

You had accepted a long time ago that you were probably never going to completely get over the crush you had on Joost. Not that it mattered much anyway, it seemed harmless, and it obviously hadn't inhibited you from finding love elsewhere. A puppy crush was all you had thought it had waned down to. Joost seemed to only get more attractive as he aged anyway, having truly grown into himself. Sometimes you couldn't believe the man he had matured into- proud was an understatement.

"Feeling any better?" He asks, his voice low as to not startle you as he breaks the silence.

"I don't know." You mumble, your voice threatening to crack once more and your mind is a mess with pure confusion as to what it was you were feeling. Your heart thumps in your chest at a volume that feels much louder than normal, pumping at a rate that seems much too fast for the situation you're in, "Can I ask you a weird question?"

"Sure" He chuckles, "Ask me whatever you want."

"Did you like it?" The question quickly slips from your lips.

"Like what?" He responds, clearly confused.

"Like," You begin to trail off, unsure if you want to clarify your question, "When we-uh kissed?"

The soft motions he draws against your back are suddenly halted, and it feels like the entire city has gone quiet, like time has stood still, Your heart drops straight into your stomach, fearing the outcome of his rigid bodily reaction.

"Y-yeah, yeah, I liked it." His voice becoming more confident as words progressed.

"I did too," It seemed useless now to wallow in the guilt you had felt about that situation, you liked it, "Do you think we could-" You cut yourself off, not sure of how to finish the question.

Joost places three fingers on your jaw, grabbing at your chin to pull your gaze up to him.

You look at Joost through tearful eyes, questioning how to make your next move. A few seconds of anxious silence pass between the two, breathing heavily.

Joost's fingers linger on your jaw as you feel him pull you closer ever-so-slightly, the two of you inching nearer to each other. Unable to wait any longer, you push yourself forward, at the same time, Joost seems to have had the same idea, the two of you colliding with a force you hadn't expected, which almost takes the breath straight from your lungs.

But you only wish to get closer as your lips clash against Joost's with a hunger you weren't used to. You couldn't remember the last time you had experienced a kiss with such passion, with such intent behind it.

Your hands find themselves tangled up in Joost's hair, threading through and pulling at the already messy strands. Joost's own hands are planted firmly on your body, one on the back of your neck and the other on your waist.

You began to slowly tip back, removing a hand from Joost's hair to maintain stability as you lowered your back to the concrete. Joost follows suit, not breaking the kiss as you pull him down with you.

He props himself up with a hand next to your head, using his other free hand to hold your cheek. You wrap both of your arms around his neck, attempting to pull him further down on top of you.

Joost's kisses soon leave your lips, soft lips trailing down your jaw and eventually your neck. Your chest rises, back arching as he connects with your throat, sucking softly. You let your head tip back onto the concrete, staring up at the sky as Joost continues.

Somehow the stars feel much brighter now, although you know that they aren't. But you're memorized by their faint twinkle in the heat of the moment, as your hands desperately grasp at Joost's hair, and your breathing begins to speed up.

Once more, you're overwhelmed, eyes damp once more as they well up with tears. You pinch your eyes closed, trying to force the droplets away, but it does nothing but push your salty tears down your face. It didn't feel so bad to cry now, not as Joost ghosts your neck with soft kisses, his hand dropping to draw reassuring circles on your hip with his thumb.

You arch your back, allowing Joost to wrap an arm under you, holding you tight. You whine as his teeth graze your neck, quickly soothing the small bite with his tongue. It's obvious Joost notices your response to the action, repeating it over a few more times, surely bursting some blood vessels along the way.

You recognized the sensation that was building inside of you, the way the muscles in your legs tightened and your abdomen strained, the paralyzing feeling of want terrorizing every nerve in your body. You bend your leg, pushing your hips forward. With your sudden movement, Joost's hand slips from behind your back to your thigh, his fingertips just below the hem of your pajama shorts. It's not quite where you want him.

A strangled, "Please," leaves your throat, causing Joost to hesitate, lifting his head from where it hung by your neck, his hand dropping from your thigh.

Pity is written all over his face as he looks down at you, fuck.

"I'm sorry," He shakes his head

"What?"

"We shouldn't-"

"No?" You choke, and it's like you could feel him slipping through your fingers, you clench your jaw, his name bitten into your tongue. You let your head fall to the side, the concrete is harsh, scraping against your cheek.

"Stop," You feel Joost's hand graze your arm, "Please look at me."

You can't bear to lift your head up, shame written all over your face. First your boyfriend now him.

"I don't mean to upset you, please, liefje, look at me."

His use of the phrase liefje making you immediately turn your head, confused.

"Don't call me that if you don't mean it." You frown

"I do mean it."

"Sure."

Joost lowers his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead,

"Believe me," He mumbles, his lips still resting against your hairline.

"Then why can't we go any further?" You wince at the words that come from your mouth.

"We will," He raises his head to look you in the eyes, "When you're ready."

"I am," You furrow your eyebrows, "I've known you for 15 years, I am more than ready."

Joost frowns, "You just got out of a five-year relationship."

"Do you think I'm using you as a rebound?"

"What-no," He shakes his head, "I just don't want to fuck up your healing process."

"What if you speed it up?" You ask, lifting your head from the concrete.

"And what if I make it worse?"

"You won't" You plead

"Not tonight." He sighs, dipping his head to place another kiss on your forehead, "Let me take you out first, we'll make it special."

A small smile grazes your lips, your heart warmed at his effort,

"I care about you, y/n, I don't want to just have sex with you because we're in the mood, okay?" He speaks earnestly, making your pulse quicken.

"Okay," You whisper, "Can you at least stay the night?"

"I'll stay as long as you want," he smiles, and a few moments of comfortable silence engulf you both before he speaks again, "You know I love you, right?" You're unsure of if it's platonic love, or something more, but it doesn't seem to matter now, the very simple fact that he loves you was all you could really focus on.

"I love you too." You're unsure of how you mean it either, knowing only that you love him. Just as you always had.

[xxmayxx05]

I won't let go, if you don't let go

pairing: Eric x Fem! reader

Contents: blood, weird aliens, Fluff (involves a cute man with puppy eyes). 18+ in the next chapter!

a/n: Hi everyone! I hope you like my first Eric imagine! Joseph Quinn did such an amazing job as Eric. If you haven't watched A quiet place day one, I highly recommend it. I am going to make this a small series, and I want to make more Eric content. So please please send requests. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. - May<3

Day 5

Closing your eyes, you sighed softly and stood infront of the window of your apartment. You were still trying to process and understand what day happened just five days ago. It was a regular day for you, you were coming back from Law school. You were in the subway to go back to your apartment after a very stressful day. All you wanted was to go back home to your apartment, cry your eyes out, order some take out and drink your favorite wine. 

You never would of guessed that the world was practically going to end. At your last stop, you were about to step off the train when you heard screaming all around. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach when you felt the floor shake hard, and the sounds of bombs deathened your ears. Not knowing what to do, you stood there frightened. Out of nowhere you saw, what seemed to be a monster. The monster was killing people, with every victim, the walls were splattered with blood all around and people were running around. 

“Y/N!” you heard some scream out your name and felt someone wrap their arms around your waist. 

The unknown person pulled you back into the train and threw you both onto the ground. Finally getting out of your frightened daze, you had realized that it was Eric. He was one of your classmates in law school, the british man had worked with you in one project last semester. Both of you would meet up after school, would go to each others places to work on the project. You had grown really fond of being with Eric in such a short amount of time and it scared you because you would feel butterflies in your stomach when you would see him. It sounded unbelievable but you had a crush on Eric but always tried to push it aside so you could focus on law school. 

“Love!, look at me. Look at me please” Eric begged quietly as he softly caressed your cheek. The train started being flooded with water and very quickly. He helped you get up slowly as he looked around to see if the unknown creature was around, but it had gone all the way down of the subway. Eric could only think was about getting you out of your state of shock. All you did was blink and look at him. You started breathing heavily as you started gain more consciousness of what your just had seen. 

“E-eric” you cried softly and realized that what had just happened. 

“You have to be quiet” he whispered as he quickly covered your mouth and nodded his head. The water had now risen up to his waist. “We need to find the way out quickly and quietly” he said and gave you a small smile when you had nodded your head and tried to calm your breathing. 

“Follow me” you whispered and grabbed his hand. You were thankful that this was your stop and you knew your way around the subway. Finally being able to calm yourself down, you carefully stepped out of the train and gasped softly when you saw the amount of bodies that were floating in the water. 

“We have to keep going Y/n” he whispered in your ear as the water had risen mid stomach. Eric felt you begin to softly cry at the sight of the floating bodies. He was scared at the sight as well but he needed to survive and you as well. “Please, the water is rising” he plead in a hushed tone. 

Making yourself knock out of the shock, you practically began to flutter kick in the water softly. The water was rising faster but it didn’t stop you from almost getting to the entrance.

“Take a deep breath and swim y/n” Eric breathed heavily. The water had risen up all the way to his neck now, and he had his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upfloat. 

“Please don’t let go” you cried softly, thinking that this could be the end of you both. He shook his head immediately. 

“I won’t, if you won’t” he said and panicked softly as the water had risen up to his chin. “Now” he said and took a deep breath. 

After taking your final deep breath, you saw at the semi dark water. You and Eric had your hands intertwined tightly. Looking around in a panic you saw light. Swimming close to the light, you tried touching the floor but you recognized that there were steps. You swam practically half up the steps with Eric. Finally getting close to the surface you, gasped for air when you were out of the water. Immediate relief filled your chest when you were gasping for air and realized that you were alive. Turning around, you immediately wrapped your arms around Eric and hugged him. 

“It’s a-alright love, we are a-alright” he said quietly and still trying to catch up on his breathing. Eric was about to slip into a state of shock himself, he was about to die down there in the subway. His soft cries took over, feeling too over whelmed about everything that was going on around him. All he wanted was to have a regular day at law school, hoping that he could grow the courage to talk to you in the hallway but he would retreat everytime. Now he was here in what seemed to be the end of the world in his eyes, all he wanted to do is hide and try to survive with you. 

“We h-have to go” you whispered and caressed Eric’s cheek. He had began to worry you as his eyes were wide opened and his body shook in fear. “Eric please” you begged silently and made him look at you. “Look at me” you whispered and smiled softly when started blinking rapidly. 

“Good job” you reassured him and kept caressing his cheek. “My apartment is down the block, we have to be quick and careful” you said quietly and looked around. The streets were quiet, cars flipped and wrecked, some building were on fire. Relief came over you when you didn’t see any of the scary creatures. “We have to go now” you whispered and intertwined your fingers with Eric’s. 

Both of you had walked carefully and quietly down the block. His grip tightened, scared that he was going to loose you at any second. Walking up the steps of your building, you caught your breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You lead Eric up to the sixth floor and walked to your door. Crouching down, you looked underneath the door mat. Feeling relief that your apartment key was there, you always kept it there for any type of emergency. Grabbing it, you unlocked your door carefully and opened the door. Trying to open the door softly, you both walked in and you locked the door behind. 

—-

Sighing softly you kept looking out the window and smiled softly when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You felt comfort with the thunderstorm that had just started and knowing that you weren’t alone and had Eric. Both of you were afraid to step outside after what you guys witnessed, all you both did was cuddle in your bed, try to draw, play tic tac toe, and finding out that Eric was a very good magician. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly and wrapped both of his arms around your waist. Eric knew that you were still trying to get yourself out of the state of shock, he was also trying to do the same but he knew that it was going to stay with you both for a very long time. 

“Yes” you whispered and leaned your head back on his chest and closed your eyes. Being with Eric made your anxiety and nerves calm down. Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, you were falling more and more for him. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked and hugged you. Leaning his chin on top of your head, he loved how you both became so close with each other. He didn’t feel embarrassed, that he would follow you around the apartment like a lost puppy because he was afraid that with a blink of an eye you would be gone. 

“We need to leave soon, Eric” you said and turned around. Looking up your eyes teared up at the feeling of fear began to rise. “We only have food for two more days and then it’s gone. We have to get to those boats” you said, crying softly. “I don’t want to loose you” you admitted and gasped softly when Eric immediately kissed you.

Eric couldn’t help himself anymore and kissed you. He was happy that you felt this way towards him, he was afraid that he was going to loose you too. Eric knew that he had to man up and get you both to those boats. Mostly you, he had to get you to safety but he promised himself that he was going to protect you until the very end. 

Feeling relief that you kissed him back with as much passion made him feeling butterflies in his stomach. Loving how your soft hand caressed his cheek and your other arm wrapped around his neck. Leaning back softly and leaning his forehead against yours. 

“You aren’t going to loose me, I promise you that” he said with a small smile. “In two days, we will head to the boats first thing in the morning. Once we get to safety, it’s just you and me” he reassured you and pecked your lips. “I’m not letting you go if you don’t let me go” he said. 

“I won’t” you promised and pecked his lips. Gasping softly when he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“I want you” he said and searched your eyes for permission. 

“I’m all yours” you smiled softly and kissed him. Giggling softly when he began walking to your bed, he was going to worship your body. The way that he had wished to do since he met you the first time in class. 

[l8niteth0ts]

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 & 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒: 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Five weeks without him. Five weeks of aching, waiting, and keeping your promise: no touching yourself while Captain Levi was gone. Now he’s back—and sneaking into your room like a man starved. There’s no time for slow. No time for soft. Just quiet gasps, bruising hands, and a sharp reminder of who you belong to.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 (𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈): Secret relationship, dom! Levi x sub! reader, master/pet dynamic, reader begging, first time squirting, creampie, choking, finger sucking, clit smacking, rough sex, etc.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,683

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Please feel free to leave a like, comment, and feel free to reblog! I am grateful for all of you—thank you for reading my work!

𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘! 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!

“𝐀 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.”

He quickly locks the door behind him, making sure no one saw him sneak in. "(Y/N)," he breathes out desperately, immediately rushing towards you. "I've missed you."

His lips are chapped yet warm against yours, and you pull him deeper into the kiss. You hadn't seen him in over five weeks, he'd been out on a scouting mission, and he finally returned today. It took everything out of the both of you to not be all over each other during dinner, but you couldn't have anyone suspecting anything between you two. His kiss deepened as he gripped your waist, yearning for more. His fingers felt like lightning against your skin, a feeling you'd missed for a long time. His tongue forced itself into your mouth, brushing past your lips. The kiss was warm and wet, and you moaned lightly into his mouth, your body on fire from his touch.

His lips burned into yours, as he eagerly started unbuttoning your shirt. You leaned into his touch, desperate for him to remove your shirt as soon as possible. Your hands traveled down to his pants, and started to unbuckle his belt as fast as you could. He pulled away for a moment, and took in your figure, and the two of you were finally able to catch your breath. "Levi," you breathe out, your core already feeling hot and desperate for him.

He slips your shirt off and quickly removes your bra, too, not wanting to waste any time. He steps out of his pants, finally, and is taking off his shirt as well. You follow his actions, and quickly remove your pants and underwear.

Once you're both naked, he pushes you onto your bed, and you gasp at the sudden aggression. "(Y/N), we don't have a lot of time," he whispers, not wanting anyone to overhear the two of you. "I couldn't wait any longer, though. I needed to see you, as soon as possible," his steel colored eyes look into yours, full of lust and longing.

You lie on your back and gaze up at him, and he wastes no time slipping two slim fingers into your already soaking wet hole. You bite your lip in pleasure, and toss your head back onto the soft pillow. "Levi," you breathe out quietly, groping your breast for a little relief.

His other hand suddenly smacks your clit, causing you to yelp. "Nuh uh, what do you call me?"

Your face flushes, and your clit stings, a throbbing sensation coming from it. You remember your discussion before he left. "M-Master," you obey, eager to please him. You were frantic for his touch, you're pretty sure you needed him more than you needed air, more than a fish needed water. Five weeks was far too long without the captain's touch.

He nods in approval. "Good girl," he hums. His fingers begin to make a scissoring motion inside of you, stretching you out, preparing you for his long awaited return. You promised him you wouldn't finger yourself or masturbate at all until he came back. He wanted to be the one to give you pleasure and make you scream.

His fingers felt so good inside of you, you nearly came from them alone. The sting and burn of getting stretched out again felt even better. "Master," you moaned out softly, "please t-touch my clit."

"Beg for it," he commands. His fingers kept their quick pace inside of you, yet he refused to touch your clit until he deemed you'd earned it.

"P-Please, master, I-I need you there," you try. He doesn't cave.

"More."

You groan in desperation, and slight humiliation. "Master, please, I-I need you to touch my clit, p-please, I've-I've missed you so—ahh—much..."

His eyes bore into yours as his pace remains the same. "Why should I, hmm? Who's to say you didn't disobey me and touch yourself while I was gone?"

You shake your head fervently, "no, no, Master, I promise I didn't t-touch myself once! I would n-never disobey you," you swear to him, batting your eyelashes. He groans softly at the way your face looks. So cute... lips plump and wet, cheeks flushed, eyes filled with lust and need. A need for him. It almost triggers something carnal within him. His cock twitches at the sight of you beginning to fall apart beneath him.

"Still not good enough," he grunts, smacking your clit once more, earning another sharp yelp from you.

Tears filled your eyes, from the pain and the desperate need for him. "Master, please! P-Please touch my clit, I n-need you so badly, please, I promise I was good, I promise I-I didn't touch myself, please please please touch me, I need it so badly, I need you so-so badly, master—hahh—pleeeeaseee," you whine out, practically sobbing.

Instead of giving in to touching your clit where you oh-so desperately need him, he pulls his fingers out, and replaces them with his hard, aching, leaking cock. He quickly shoves it inside, giving no warning. You feel the air get knocked out of your lungs, and you gasp, a hand reaching for his arm, and grabbing tightly. "O-Oh my God, M-Master," you choke out, overwhelmed by the feeling of his thick cock finally inside you.

"Fuck," he grunts, his mind cloudy from the way your tight little pussy gripped his cock so well. It's like it was made for him. He groans as he pulls out, admiring the creamy slick already coating his cock. He slides it back in slowly, watching your cunt swallow it up. "You're so attractive, (Y/N). I can't get enough of you," he compliments as he's enthralled by your pussy sucking his cock.

Your other hand plays with your nipple as you gasp and moan at his touch. "Y-You feel so good, M-Master," you whine, practically mewling beneath him.

"Yeah?" he growls, "did you miss your master's cock, huh?" Your face flushes again, and he smacks your clit once more. "Answer me."

"Ah—ahhh, y-yes!" you whine out, your nails dragging down his arm. "Yes, y-yes I missed your big cock, Master!" You moan out. He groans at your response, and his pace quickens, slamming into you faster and faster. You already feel an orgasm coming—your stomach feels tight and warm, and your head feels hot and heavy. "I-I feel like I'm going to c-cum already, Master," you quietly warn him, cheeks flushed and forehead sweaty.

"Cum," he encourages as he continues to pound in and out of you. "I want you to cum as much as you can, we've got a lot of—hnnng—orgasms to catch up on."

He quickens his pace, and he lifts your left leg onto his shoulder for a deeper angle. You swear you can see stars, and you gasp loudly. His hand travels to your mouth, and he slides three fingers inside, keeping you quiet. You suck on his fingers, and he groans, quickening his pace. The way his cock is dragging in and out of your cunt feels intoxicating, and you feel like you're about to explode from pleasure.

You feel an intense pressure in your gut, and suddenly you feel liquid coming out of you intensely. You gasp, and look down, and so does Levi. your face is on fire, totally embarrassed.

"Good job," he genuinely says, not phased in the slightest. Without slowing down his thrusts at all, his fingers slide out of your mouth, and down to wrap around your throat as he continues, "you just squirted for the first time," he says nonchalantly. He brings your leg to his face, and gives it a kiss, grunting as he continues to fuck you.

"D-Did I really?" You ask quietly, still dazed and flushed.

He nods, and groans deeply as he feels your cunt contracting around his cock, gripping him tighter and tighter. The way your pussy milks his cock feels like everything right in the world. "Fuck, you feel so good." His pace quickens, causing you to moan again in delight. All he can look at is your tits bouncing below him, and he grunts in pleasure. "Do you—mmmph—want me inside?"

You nod, desperate for him to fill you with his load. He looks down where you two are connected, and groans again at the beautiful sight. His thighs are coated in your orgasm, his cock is covered in your cream, and he's obsessed. "You look so good," he quietly praises, and he suddenly loses his rhythm, his thrusts no longer synchronized. "F-Fuck," he groans, gripping your hips tightly, "oh God," he whines as he stops thrusting, emptying his cum into your creamy hole. "Fuck," he hisses again, the sensation is almost too much for him.

He pulls out slowly, and watches his cum leak out of your hole and onto the sheets. "Holy shit," he whispers, absolutely enthralled with the sight. "You're beautiful," he sincerely says whilst looking into your teary eyes.

He quickly gets up, and a few moments later, returns with a warm, wet washcloth. He gently cleans you up, making sure to get everything. He cleans himself as well, and tosses the washcloth into your laundry basket.

He sighs, and quickly starts pulling his clothing back on. "(Y/N), I want to stay so badly, but i need to go back to Commander Erwin's office. I told him I was simply going to the restroom," he explains, hating the sad look on your face. "I promise, once everyone lies down for the evening, I will come back, okay?"

You nod, and he walks over to you once his pants and belt are back on. He grabs your face gently, and gives you a sweet kiss on the forehead. "I promise, I'll be back."

Once he's finished getting dressed, he finger combs his hair back into place, to make it appear that nothing happened. He turns to you, and smiles, something he only lets you see. He plants a kiss on your lips one more time, before stepping out of your room, back to Erwin's office.

ⓒ 𝐋𝟖𝐍𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐓𝐡𝟎𝐭𝐬 -- 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

AOT MASTERLIST

OTHER AOT CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

LEVI ACKERMAN MASTERLIST

ʚɞ

[ze-ppe-li]

...🇪​🇳​🇬​🇱​🇮​🇸​🇭​ 🇮​🇸​🇳​·🇹​ 🇲​🇾​ 🇫​🇮​🇷​🇸​🇹​ 🇱​🇦​🇳​🇬​🇺​🇦​🇬​🇪​ 🇦​🇳​🇾​🇼​🇦​🇾​

Gangbang, G!P Blackpink, sub! reader fifth member! reader, blowjob (jisoo and rosé), cunnilingus (r), brief daddy kink, anal sex, deepthroating, triple penetration, ass to mouth, bukkake, dp in one hole.

The five women gathered together after a triumphant performance, celebrating their victory against the screaming crowd. Their energy was high, fueled by the roars of approval from thousands of devoted fans. As they exited the stadium doors, a buzz still lingered within the air, a testament to their magnetic stage presence.

Once inside the hotel room, the girls finally had some privacy away from the prying eyes of adoring fans. Rosé quickly mixed them all drinks before flopping onto one of the plush sofas. "This feels like such a rare moment," she sighed dreamily.

"Indeed it does." Jisoo agreed. "But I must say, we could use something stronger than these drinks if tonight's going to end like our last gathering!" Her flirtatious tone caused everyone else to laugh and take off their clothes. 

It wasn't long until they were all standing naked except for the glittery accessories they hadn't taken off yet. Rosé took a seat, crossing her legs provocatively. "Let me introduce you all" she smiled, grabbing each girl's hand gently. 

"This is my sweet little Jennie, her dick will surely make you beg for mercy"

Jennie stepped forward, flashing her figure. She approached Lisa slowly, admiring her curvaceous beauty, taking her time to explore every inch of Lisa's delicious body.

Meanwhile, you couldn't help but feel aroused watching them both, especially when Lisa began unzipping Jennie's pants, exposing her throbbing cock. It seemed almost surreal seeing these two powerful females getting intimate with each other. Furthermore, you were the only member with a vagina.

As you turned towards Jisoo, who was already undressed, ready to ravage you with her expert touch, you noticed Rosé kneeling down beside you, her hands moving seductively across your thighs.

She whispered into your ear, "Remember, I am here for you too... don't forget about me..."

Her words sent shivers down your spine, making you want her just as badly as the rest.

Without further delay, Jisoo pushed you onto the bed, climbing on top of you. Her soft lips met yours passionately, sending waves of desire coursing through your veins. 

Your mind raced with anticipation, wondering which position would bring out the most pleasure. Your unnie eagerly awaited her turn, her breath coming in short bursts. With a devious grin, she pulled you closer, allowing her fingers to tease your sensitive skin.

As you felt the warmth of her lips brushing against yours, your heart raced faster. This was unlike anything you ever experienced, the thrill of having four beautiful women surround you, each craving their share of passionate embrace.

Without warning, Jennie grasped your head firmly, guiding you towards her hardened member. You couldn't resist its allure, leaning forward to taste her. Her moans filled the room as you caressed her soft skin, feeling her excitement grow with each passing second. 

At that moment, Lisa, who was masturbating, approached both of you and saw you; you swallowing Jennie's cock and Jennie. She also needed to taste your throat at the same time as Jennie. Seeing you there, choking a little, she was excited by the idea that she would provoke the same reflex in you, just as Jennie was doing.

At first she wanted to fuck your face, then slowly withdraw her cock while you choke with Jennie's one, now it became clear to her that she didn't need to do any of this, because you did that perfectly yourself. So you were completely alone in front of four hot women who are giving you what you can't get enough. And since all four are equally desirable, your options for getting pleasure have multiplied.

Now with both cocks in your mouth, you were able to go up and down without much problem, licking, sucking, kissing and licking again, in no particular order, tasting and playing with different flavors. You had always loved giving blowjobs but now it's even better, the sense of satisfaction never been so complete. Jennie enjoyed it too, as she was pushing her cum in your mouth, so you could swallow it and enjoy the rich taste. On the other hand, with Lisa, the more you sucked, the more she got excited. Also, you never imagined it could be such an awesome feeling being completely submissive, knowing you were only useful for fulfilling sexual desires.

While your tongue was quickly working on your unnies' dicks, two other tongues were on you, one on your clit and the other inside you sweet hole; Jisoo and Rosé were clearly enjoying you as much as you liked them, you felt incredibly sexy with them tonguing at you. While the blonde was sucking on your clit, the oldest was exploring your walls with her tongue, making sure she got every inch of you. They went on like this for a while until Jennie lost control and grabbed your head, holding it tightly, keeping you still while she unleashed her orgasm. The sweetest taste of cum flooded your mouth and you tried to catch as much as you could but some escaped from your open mouth.

Lisa, feeling the cum of her unnie mixing with her meat and your throat's juice, could no longer hold back and moaned with pure joy. At that moment, your throat was invaded by that white liquid again and your eyes closed with ecstasy as you were pleasured with the thick cream of both girls, forcing you to drink the load of them

Now your tongue and her shafts made contact, both retreating from your mouth with an audible "pop!" After licking off their cum, you moaned sluttily, since the activity had not ended there; Rosé and Jisoo were between your legs, eating you out. Their warm breath on your crotch made your knees tremble and your heart race, causing Lisa to make another pass with her tongue and eat you some more, so now all three tongues were lapping away at your snatch, creating an ocean of sensations inside you.

Feeling Lisa's finger slide inside you, it was then you realized how you had neglected your own pleasure all the time. In fact, Lisa showed you what a girl's tongue feels like inside you , how much it would excite you when another woman licked it, while another slides her finger in you. That feeling of wetness and relaxation while she plays with your walls made you moan loudly, unable to contain yourself. She inserted her middle finger deeper and twirled it around, applying gentle pressure to your G-spot, while the tip of Jisoo's index finger continued to stimulate your clit, spreading you wider and opening you up.

Suddenly Rosé and Jisoo were pulled away, leaving only Lisa's finger buried deep in you. At first she withdrew it, licking the fluid oozing out, making you want more. But Lisa quickly brought it back and slid it all the way in, making you squirm and whine. Your moans were loud, filling the room, drawing everyone's attention towards you.

With that last stroke, Lisa stopped, removed her fingers, covered them with your juices, then placed them on your lips and pushed them in, cleaning herself off. This action, followed by Jennie's breath on your neck, told you they were close, and you knew that soon you would feel their big cocks inside you.

In an instant, you found yourself with Rosé behind you, while Jennie stood in front of you. Your body quivered as you felt Rosé's cold, lubed fingers tracing circles along your back entrance, causing waves of delightful sensations to course through your veins.

In response, you reached out and cupped Jennie's breasts tenderly, letting your fingertips glide across the smooth texture of her nipples. She let out a sharp intake of breath, unable to hide her arousal any longer. Desire danced in her eyes as she stuck her head out passing your shoulder, meeting Rosé's expectant gaze. Both of them shared a silent understanding; this night was meant to break boundaries, to push limits beyond what they thought possible.

Before either of them could react, Lisa took hold of the situation, slinking gracefully to her side. With calculated movements, she eased her way between Jennie and Rosé, placing a kiss on each of their lips simultaneously.

She stood behind you, next to Rosé, both looked at each other and smiled at each other triumphantly, since they shared the same purpose; to totally gape your little hole.

Meanwhile, Jisoo was stroking herself at your side, her member was dangerously close to your face.

She chuckled and looked down at you "Be a good girl and take my cock"

You allowed Jisoo to push her hard and deep into your mouth. With each thrust of Jisoo's cock, her entire shaft slid down your throat. When it finally hit the back of your mouth, the tip met the back of your throat. As you kept pumping Jisoo's cock in and out of your mouth, Jennie entered your pussy, slamming her hips into you. You turned your head, watching Rosé and Lisa continue to pound your ass with their full cocks. You felt incredible stretched out by two cocks inside your butt at once.

The sensations of your three holes being pounded by these powerful cocks had been building for days. Each thrust sent jolts of pain and bliss to your insides, making you want them to go harder, faster. While both Lisa and Rosé's cocks poked in and out of your anus, Jennie took her time slowly entering your pussy, just enough for your muscles to relax, giving her better access. She started pulling out almost all the way, stopping just short of where you had been fucked before.

This motion put added pressure onto your swollen clit. Every time Jennie withdrew, the throbbing sensation returned and became even stronger, but just as fast as she penetrated you, she retreated again. It was driving you crazy, wanting Jennie to push deeper and deeper. It didn't help that Jisoo's massive dick rubbed against your throat each time it was forced into your mouth. Her deep breathing, mixed with her heavy breathing, drove you crazy as you struggled not to gag on her hard shaft.

After spending too long under the combined stimulation, your orgasm started to build, swelling until it exploded inside you. You couldn't stop it; you let out a scream of release. Your walls squeezed Jennie's dick, making her thrust harder and deeper into you.

Finally, she gave one final shove and came inside you. You could feel every drop running out of you. When you finally calmed down, she stepped back, freeing you from the stimulation. But still, you had two cocks inside your gaping hole, which made you feel even hornier than before. Lisa leaned over and you turned your head back, offering you her warm tongue, which you eagerly sucked, flicking it against your roof of your mouth as you tasted her essence.

Finally, Rosé stopped thrusting into you, crying out her orgasm as she filled you up with cum. Lisa's strokes slowed as well. After a minute or so, she let the spunk fill you too, Slowly, she retracted her hard cock from your asshole, releasing her from its warmth and delicious tightness. Cum leaked out of your hole and pooled around your puckered asshole, creating a sticky mess.

Rosé stood next to you, abandoning your gaped hole. Her wet, leaking penis was now in front of you, it was getting harder and bigger by the second. A shiver went down your spine as you realized how much of a challenge Rosé was about to pose.

With an eager grin, you wrapped your hand around Rosé's engorged member and pulled it towards your mouth. Before you knew it, you were sucking and licking Rosé's fat, sensitive dick. The taste was salty and slightly bitter, it had become more pleasurable after several minutes. Rosé moaned louder, reaching for your head, holding you down as she thrusted into your mouth.

"You look so good sucking daddy's cock"

You turned to see who had said that and it was Jisoo, who, although you had not noticed it at that moment, was already behind you pounding your loosened ass.

Jennie and Lisa were masturbating, seeing how Rosé and Jisoo used you and desecrate you in those ways. Their hardened members were pointing straight at you, and that only meant one thing; absolutely your entire body would be marked with their sperm.

While you continued deepthroating Rosé and your unnie continued to fuck your ass, Jennie and Lisa approached your tits, squeezing them roughly. They tore at your nipples, biting and pulling them while Rosé fucked your throat.

It was vital that you came again, but despite your best efforts, the intense pleasure simply wouldn't fade away. The four girls were already about to came when you managed to come a third time. Now it was all a race to see who would be the first to take a load from you. Rosé knew what she was doing, grinding her cock into your mouth like a bull ramming a matador, trying to force her seed down your throat. Jisoo followed suit, thrusting forcefully into your sore ass, bringing herself to orgasm. Then Jennie and Lisa, desperately pumping their softening cocks.

As the splatters of Rosé's seed landed down your throat, Jisoo pulled her cock out of your gaped anus, pointing all its essence at your back and ass crack. JenLisa came right on your face, pushing all their sperm in your body. Their hot cum dripped down your tits, staining them white.

As they looked down at you covered in all this filth, Jennie gave you a sweet kiss on your lips, then Lisa gave you another one. Out of nowhere, the four girls were hugging you, they didn't care that your whole body was full of their cum, both inside and out.

Your group spent the rest of the night laughing and telling dirty jokes. Everyone was having fun. And although you all promised to keep things discreet, you could already tell that you had formed something deeper than friends, deeper than bandmates, you all loved each other deeply.