#I made this the previous weekend but didn’t share until now cause I wasn’t feeling like posting it at the time
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amaliatheartist · 7 months ago
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I did it all, so maybe
I'd live this every day
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valerienrhapsody · 6 months ago
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Chapter 3: The Hunter
The Hotel Dominique sat just on the outskirts of the Redwood City boardwalk, close enough to the pier to boast an oceanside view, but far enough to escape the bustle and noise of the shopping district. It wasn’t the fanciest joint in Redwood by any means, but it was comfortable and clean, out of the way of the crowds, with only a handful of bookings for the weekend. In other words, it was the perfect spot for two people to sit in conversation without being overheard. 
Alec met with his cousin in the hotel restaurant after sunset, choosing a booth well away from the windows and other diners to ensure absolute privacy. 
“Nice place,” he commented as they slid into their booth, the movement causing the unsteady table to rock back and forth between them. He eyed the décor and hummed his mild approval for the sake of the waiter who took the time to pour them each a glass of water before setting down a couple of menus and scampering off. 
“One hell of a step up from the roach motels and gas station food,” Maggie replied with a snort, but she still grimaced at the mention of her previous accommodations. She rolled up the sleeves of her oversized button-down shirt in the same way Alec wore his, just covering the tattoos that started above the elbow, and then they really started to look alike. 
Her skin was a shade lighter than his, but she had more dark freckles than he did. Where his hair was kept short and peppered gray, she dyed hers with caramel streaks and had twisted it into a fluffy bun of curls atop her head. Through their mothers, they shared a broad nose with heavily hooded brown eyes and oval jaws, but Alec thought the one feature that made them most alike was the patchwork of scars that littered their bodies. Maggie sported a pink, jagged line from the corner of her mouth that reached all the way up to her right eye. Alec’s scars were more obscured than hers, easier to hide under long sleeves and pant legs, but they had learned the same lessons from them.
“Been on the road awhile?” he asked conversationally as he picked up his menu to browse. 
“A couple days,” she said with a little shrug like traveling didn’t bother her as much as he knew it did. “So, how’s the small-town life treating you? Getting bored yet?”
“Nah, it’s alright,” Alec answered, taking note of her quick deflection. “I’ve got a job a monkey could do and my neighbors keep sending passive aggressive notes about my lawn, but none of them are trying to kill me and devour my flesh, so I guess it’s nice.”
“I don’t know how you do it,” Maggie said, shaking her head. She picked up the straw that had accompanied her water and began to pick at the paper wrapping, probably just looking for something to do with her hands. “Don’t you miss working for a real purpose? Miss home?”
“Every day,” Alec admitted, watching his cousin as she carefully avoided meeting his gaze. He set down his menu and picked up his own straw to mirror her, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. “You know, for thirty years I lived and breathed hunting, and that part of me hurt something fierce for a long time after I gave it up…but then there’s the part that’s grateful to finally be slowing down. These last few years in Jericho, for the first time in my life, I’m not looking over my shoulder and surviving from one day to the next. I actually have something of a future beyond ‘work until it inevitably kills me.’ After everything I’ve been through, everyone I’ve lost…I needed it. Can’t feel bad about that.”
“Honestly, since you’ve been gone, I’ve been thinking about it more, myself,” Maggie admitted, her expression growing a little heavy as she finally set down her straw, a little pile of shredded wrapper littering the table in front of her. “For a while there I was so mad at you I could spit, mad enough even my mother said I was overreacting. But ever since Jeannie was born, and now she’s old enough to ask where I’m going and when I’ll be back…that small-town life is starting to sound real nice.”
“Did I just hear you right?” Alec asked, emphasizing his shock in an effort to work a smile out of her. “The Margaret Jameson is looking to retire?”
“I’m trying to be serious here, jackass,” Maggie said, kicking his leg under the table even as the corner of her mouth twitched with humor. “That’s the whole reason I came out here! I mean, yeah, I’m on a job, but I also really needed to talk to my cousin. You’re the only one I trust to give me some honest advice.”
“Only one?” Alec repeated, genuinely surprised.
“Yeah, no one back home has ever up and quit the way you did.” Maggie brushed her paper scrap pile aside and leaned forward with her elbows on the table, lowering her voice to talk conspiratorially. “Alec, before I go home, I have a huge decision to make. I can’t carry on hunting like I have been, fighting with sticks and stones while I’m carrying a whole arsenal in my family blood. I’m either going home to announce my retirement, or I’m going to start the trials.”
Alec leaned back in his seat, blowing out a long gust of breath like the weight of her words had just punched it out of him. “Alright, you are serious.” 
He folded his arms and looked out across the restaurant, thinking for a long minute. It was enough time that the waiter finally returned to take their orders and left, and then a while longer after that. 
“You know, you always used to tell me how much you hated your mom,” Alec reminded her, not missing the way Maggie’s face twisted into a grimace at some unwelcome memory. “After she survived the trials, she wasn’t really your mom anymore. The hunter was all that was left, and you were six years old and you needed more than a cold, emotionless machine could give you.
“Now, imagine Jeannie’s life, growing up, becoming her own woman. Do you think she’s going to be grateful that you made this irreversible decision to cut off your emotions and empathy and everything that makes you a great mother? Sure, you’ll win every fight, you'll live long enough to retire, but you won’t be her mom anymore. I think, if you want my honest opinion, undergoing the trials is the wrong choice for both of you.”
Maggie’s mood seemed to darken as she took in his words, as she processed the many reasons why she knew them to be true.
“Mag, why do you have to decide one way or the other?” he asked, trying to lighten up his tone and shift the conversation in a more optimistic direction. “Why can’t you just go home and take fewer jobs, or take up a partner?”
“Because I’m not good enough,” she said, the edge of her voice betraying a note of frustration. “Alec, the reason why I have to decide now, why I can’t just coast anymore, is ‘cause I seriously messed up…a few times. I was on a hunt last month and the target got the jump on me and escaped. I barely escaped with my life. My dad was furious; my mom benched me and hired Jensen Calloway to finish the job. The only reason I’m here is to identify the target and sign over the contract.”
“Calloway, huh?” Alec said, wincing sympathetically at the uncomfortable predicament his cousin had found herself in. “You don’t call the pro over spilled milk. Is the job that serious?”
“Not really; it’ll be over by tonight, which is why it’s so bad that I couldn’t handle it myself. It seems like every hunt keeps almost getting me killed, and I know if I keep carrying on like this, I’m going to get seriously hurt, or worse. Then what would happen to Jeannie, orphaned with no one but my parents, my mother, to raise her? I just really feel like this is it, like I’m at a crossroads. I’ve either got to take the dive and become invincible, or get out. I guess…I think I know what I’m going to choose. Everyone is going to hate me.”
“Maybe, but Jeannie won’t,” Alec pointed out, and to that, Maggie smiled. “Tell you what, after you finish this job, you make your move and come stay with me awhile. I’ll even clean out the guest room and get you a futon or something.”
“I hope you like toddler tantrums and all-day marathons of Pony Princess Adventures,” Maggie joked, attempting a smile despite the look of quiet dread which had paled her features. 
“Ah, shit. My landlord has a strict ‘no Pony Princess’ rule,” Alec teased, waving his straw in her face to encourage that smile into a full-blown laugh. “Sorry, looks like y’all are going to have to live at the daycare down the road with the rest of the babies and outcast hunters. Tough break.”
“Cousin, you are too much.”
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tiannasfanfic · 2 years ago
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Luck
Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington (Fluff)
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| Masterlist | AO3 Link |
Summary: After a wild night out at The Hideout, Eddie Munson wakes up in bed with some unexpected company and no memory of what happened.
Rating: General Auidences
Author Note: Gender neutral reader, no pronouns used.
CW: Recreational alcohol and marijuana use; tobacco use; heavily implied sex (no details); could be seen as dubcon due to the use of mild altering substances, but I tried my best to address it in the story that this is something they all wouldn't done sober, too.
Word Count: 4,345
Eddie Tag List: @eddie-swhore
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Waking up after a hard night of drinking was always strange and unpleasant. In all honesty, that was why Eddie Munson preferred weed. Sure, getting drunk could be fun with the right people, but the next day was always a little slice of hell on earth.
Today was no exception. Rather than gently lifting up into consciousness as he woke up naturally, he was instead woken up by a severe pounding in his head.
Eddie opened his eyes briefly and groaned in pain before closing them again. The open curtains allowed the late morning sun to illuminate the room. The bright light sent bolts of pain through each of his eyeballs, making the headache worse. It was a steady pounding feeling, as if someone were in his head playing a drum solo.
Rolling onto his back, Eddie brought his ring clad hands up to his face to rub his eyes for a bit before attempting to open them again. While it still hurt, at least he expected the room to be so bright this time. Still though, it made his stomach turn a bit and his head throb even more. He knew if he tried to get up right now that his stomach wouldn’t be feeling too good either. Eddie decided his normal hangover cure was in order.
Shutting his eyes again, he rolled over towards the center of his bed, fully intending to go back to sleep. He threw his arm out to stretch across the empty space next to him.
Instead of stretching out like he intended though, his arm landed on something that cause it do bend at an awkward angle, as if draped over something. Eddie cracked his eyes open again and lifted his head slightly. It took him a moment to process it, but he eventually realized there was someone else laying under the blankets with him, still sleeping peacefully.
While bringing someone home with him from The Hideout wasn’t a completely uncommon occurrence, it didn’t happen very often. And, when it did, he was always sober enough to remember it once he woke up in the next day. Right now, though, Eddie couldn’t even remember how he got home from the bar last night, much less remember bringing someone home with him.
Though Eddie’s head was still pounding, the idea of sleep was forgotten. He started wracking his brain, trying to piece together the previous night.
Corroded Coffin had a Saturday night gig at The Hideout. That much he remembered. It ended up being a fantastic show. All of their friends came out for it, and they drew in a fairly large crowd since they were playing on the weekend. Granted, the bar was still under half capacity, but it was one of their largest crowds to date and that was something to celebrate. And, after the show, that’s exactly what everyone had done.
Eddie remembered Steve buying a round of drinks after the performance. He remembered you and him sneaking off to a stall in the men’s room to share a joint. He remembered Gareth ordering a round of shots when the two of you got back. Then Robin ordered a round of drinks after that. And then Jeff ordered another round of shots after that. At some point, he vaguely remembered tequila getting involved. But, after that, there was nothing until just a little bit ago when he woke up.
After thinking on it for a while, he gave up on trying to remember, figuring that would come back later. But Eddie was curious now. He reached over to gently pull the blanket down a bit to see who it was he ended up taking home with him.
Eddie froze, still holding the blanket.
You. You were lying next to him in bed.
Eddie’s mind whirled, his heart pounding as loudly as his head by this point.
You’d never been in bed with him before, even just to sleep. There were only a few times you’d ever stayed over, only on nights when you couldn’t drive home or the weather was bad, but he always slept on the couch those nights so you could have the bed to yourself. There had to be a logical explanation for this.
Out of curiosity, he lifted the edge of the blanket and looked down.
Eddie’s heart stopped.
You both were completely naked.
He stared down at your bodies as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.
You were laying with your arms folded against your chest and half on your stomach, which blocked your private areas from his view. All he could really see the full length of your bare leg all the way up past the curve of your ass to your hip.
Your hip that currently had a hand on it, which was neither his nor yours.
Eddie sat up hurriedly. It was quite a shock realizing there was a third person in bed with you two, but that was nothing in comparison to the shock of seeing who exactly it was.
Curled up on your other side was none other than Steve Harrington.
Once again, it took a moment for Eddie to comprehend what he was seeing.
The section of blanket on Steve’s side had slid down some, revealing that he was shirtless. Though, another peek under the blankets revealed that he was just as naked as you and Eddie were.
Fully in shock now, Eddie slowly laid back down. He stared at the ceiling, wracking his brain again in a desperate attempt to remember the night before.
The fog of alcohol and the headache from the hangover blocked off his memory still, so he gave up again and debated on what he should do next.
He supposed he could just leave and come back later after the both of you had left, but that would only delay the inevitable. You two would still be waking up naked in his bed even if he wasn’t there to see it. Eventually, this would need to be addressed if you all wanted any sort of friendship after this. It was going to be awkward when the two of you woke up. That much he knew for sure.
Now in desperate need in of a smoke, Eddie carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to wake either of you. He found a pair of sweatpants among his laundry scattered about on the floor. As he pulled them on, he noticed your clothes and Steve’s flung haphazardly around the room, along with the clothes he had been wearing last night. He swallowed heavily, quietly heading from the bedroom.
As he made a pit stop in the bathroom, Eddie was still trying to figure out how you all ended up in bed together. He knew what it looked like. He was well aware of what it looked like. But it couldn’t possibly have been that. No way. He’d never been drunk or high enough to act on his attraction to either of you. The only thing he could think of was that all you all started feeling hot from the alcohol, stripped down to cool off and just fell asleep. That had to be it.
But then as he went to leave the bathroom, he glanced in the mirror and did a double take. Scattered along his upper chest, neck and shoulders were hickies and bite marks of various sizes and shades.
Stunned, he stared at himself for a moment. He turned slowly then turned to get a good look at the rest of his body. While there wasn’t any more hickies that he could see, streaked down his back were several dark pink welts that were clearly nail marks. In addition to that, just above his shoulder blades were a few crescent shaped bruises, like someone had dug their nails into his back while holding onto him.
Eddie’s jaw dropped. He met his own gaze in the mirror.
“What the fuck did you do?” he said softly to his reflection.
In the living room, Eddie found evidence that you three had hung out here for a while before migrating to his bed. A few empty beer bottles littered the coffee table and a half-smoked joint sat in the ashtray. Eddie slipped on his jacket and sneakers before grabbing the joint on the way to the front door.
This morning called for something stronger than a cigarette now.
Trying to stay quiet, he left the front door partially open and gently closed the screen door. The sun was even brighter now that he was outside, which immediately got in Eddie’s eyes and made him wince. His head was throbbing even more now that he was up, which, as predicted, was starting to make his stomach queasy. He lit the joint first, hoping to calm his nerves as well as the effects of the hangover. Once that was gone, he fished his cigarettes out of his pocket and began chain smoking.
Not too long after Eddie started on his first cigarette, a very groggy, and very hungover, Steve sat up in bed. He rubbed his eyes and squinted as he looked around the room. Confusion sat in as he didn’t recognize where he was at first. But then after his gaze landed on a couple of guitars and one heavy metal poster after another, he slowly came to realize he was in Eddie’s bedroom.
This didn’t come as a surprise to Steve though. The plan the night before had always been to come back to Eddie’s place at the end of the night. Nancy had picked the three of you up from there since it was her turn to be the designated driver, so you all had left your vehicles there. While he didn’t remember coming to bed, he had vague memories of sharing a cab with you and Eddie once the bar had closed, well after Nancy and the others had left. He remembered you three wanted to continue partying and you two decided you were staying the night. Wayne was out of town that weekend for work training, so Eddie was all for having you two over for the night.
As Steve went to swing his legs out of bed, a sudden throbbing in his head made him double over slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs, eyes squeezed closed and slightly watering.
Getting drunk is always a good idea until the next day.
Halfway through his third cigarette, Eddie heard someone stirring in the trailer through the screen door. Whoever it was, be it you or Steve, was trying to be quiet, but the creaky floor wasn’t having it.
Eddie wasn’t any closer to figuring out what he was going to do. Leaving still seemed like the best idea, but it was too late for that now. The keys to his van were on the kitchen counter.
Fortunately, whoever was it was didn’t come outside, giving him some more time to compose himself. He listened to them shuffle across the living room, pick up the phone and dial a number.
Whoever they were trying to call didn’t answer because Eddie heard them hang up then try again.
“C’mon, pick up,” a voice muttered from inside.
Eddie couldn’t tell who it was until whoever the person they were trying to call finally answered.
“Robin! Finally!” they whisper yelled. “I’m freaking out over here!”
Eddie finally recognized the voice as Steve’s and some of his nerves eased hearing it was Steve, but he still wasn’t quite ready to face him just yet. Creeping closer to the door, he listened in on Steve’s side of the conversation.
“You’ve gotta help me out, I don’t know what to do!” Pause. “I can’t calm down! I just woke up next to Y/N in Eddie’s bed!” Pause. “Robin, we were both naked!” Pause. “No, I’m not joking!” Pause. “Seriously, Robin, now is not the time for jokes!” Pause. “I don’t know if I had fun, I don’t remember anything after leaving The Hideout!”
Knowing that he wasn’t the only one in the dark made Eddie feel a little better about the whole thing. But then a thought occurred to him, and all of his nerves came back.
In a way, he hoped you wouldn’t remember any it either. There was no telling what your reaction would be to all this. There wasn’t any use trying to deny what happened anymore. The three of you had a threesome last night. Or, at the very least, you and Eddie fucked. That much was obviously for certain judging from the way his own chest and back looked. But, then again, it wouldn’t make much sense why Harrington would be in the same state as you both unless he was also involved too. At least if none of you remembered what happened, that way you would all be a blank slate and could pretend it didn’t happen.
Granted, he didn’t know how that would be possible since you all would know it happened, regardless of whether or not any of you remembered it. But, if that’s what it took to still be friends after all this, he was willing to give it a shot. He didn’t want to lose either of you due to some stupid drunken escapade.
Eddie sighed and took the last drag off his cigarette as Steve was finishing his call.
Time to face the music.
He stepped back into the trailer as Steve was hanging up the phone. Steve didn’t hear him at first, giving Eddie the chance to get a look at him.
While Steve had pulled on his jeans, he was still shirtless, giving Eddie a good view of his torso. He could see some nail marks down his back, as well as a few hickies on his neck and shoulders.
There was one question answered, at least.
The sound of the screen door closing made Steve finally turn around, revealing more hickies across his chest. A sheepish look came over his face when he saw Eddie.
“Uh, hey,” Steve said, running his hand through his hair nervously. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Eddie said, fiddling with his rings nervously.
A brief silence fell over the two men.
“Y/N’s naked,” Steve suddenly blurted out, and then pointed towards Eddie’s bedroom. “In your bed. Back there.”
Eddie nodded slowly.
“Yeah,” Eddie said, swallowing heavily. “Yeah, I saw.”
“So was I,” Steve said, and once again run his hand through his hair. “Completely naked. Next to Y/N. In your bed.”
Eddie nodded again.
“Yeeeah,” he said slowly. “I, uh, was naked, too. With you two. In my bed.”
Steve’s eyes widened and he swallowed heavily. He looked in the direction of the bedroom then back to Eddie.
“Do you think we…you know?” Steve asked, gesturing between the two of them and the bedroom, then gave the air a little thrust of his hips, as if he didn’t want to say what he was thinking.
“Obviously,” Eddie said, and gestured between the two of them. “Look at us, man. We had a pretty wild night from the looks of it.”
At Eddie’s words, Steve looked down at his chest. His eyes were wide as he slowly looked back up at Eddie.
“What the hell should we do?” Steve whisper yelled, looking close to panicking.
“I have no idea!” Eddie whisper yelled back. “I can’t say I’ve ever woken up like this before, much less with either of you!”
The two men stared at each other for a moment before Steve sighed.
“Man, this is crazy,” Steve said, which Eddie nodded in agreement with. Then Steve sighed, his arms crossing over his chest. “Maybe…we should see how Y/N feels about it first?”
Eddie brightened.
“Good idea,” he said hurriedly, feeling somewhat relieved the overall outcome wouldn’t be on his shoulders. “If Y/N’s fine with it, then I’m fine with it.”
Steve nodded readily in agreement. He opened his mouth to say something else but cut himself off when the sound of the toilet flushing came from the bathroom down the hall.
Both men whipped their heads around at the sound. Neither of them had heard you get up. Soon, they heard the bathroom door open.
Now it really was time to face the music.
Since facing Steve had gone easier than expected, Eddie braced himself for your reaction. He was fully prepared for a meltdown. He expected you to be upset, and even braced himself for tears. He expected some yelling, possibly some screaming. There might even be some accusations, though the possibility of you thinking anything like that made Eddie’s stomach clench. He hoped you would know that he would never take advantage of you while you were drunk…but, then again, could he really say that since he didn’t even remember what happened? The very idea alone made his stomach clenched even tighter.
When you came out of the bathroom, you were dressed in your clothes from the night before. You were humming softly, which struck Eddie as strange considering the circumstances. You usually didn’t hum all that much, just when you were in an exceedingly good mood. This didn’t really strike Eddie as an occasion where you would be in a good mood though.
As you started to turn into the kitchen, you looked up and saw them in the living room.
“Morning fellas,” you said, smiling brightly at them both before ducking into the small kitchen.
They could hear you start to open cabinet doors. Eddie and Steve both looked at each other, deep confusion on their faces. It didn’t seem like you were bothered by the state of things at all. Maybe you hadn’t put two and two together yet? You woke up alone in bed, so it was possible.
You came back a moment later and stood in the doorway to the living room. A box of cereal was tucked under your arm, and you were eating it dry right out of the box with your free hand.
Aside from the crunch of cereal and the sounds drifting in from the outside, the room was silent. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable silence but wasn’t really an uncomfortable one either. It was just a silence.
Eddie started rubbing the back of his neck nervously, his gaze flicking repeatedly between you and Steve. Steve was in a similar state, one of his feet tapping anxiously and he kept crossing and uncrossing his arms, his eyes looking between you and Eddie. You seemed to be the only one relaxed, munching on your cereal and looking between the two men.
It seemed like everyone was waiting on someone else to start talking first.
After some time of this, you cleared your throat, which made them both look back over at you.
“Uh,“ you finally said, smiling shyly at them. “Hi.”
“Hi,” said both Eddie and Steve at the same time.
“I, uh,” you said, then stopped to clear your throat. “I had a lot of fun last night.” you said.
Before either of them could process what you just said, you started laughing nervously and shook your head.
“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. “That was a really weird thing for me to say after everything. I mean, obviously, I had fun.”
Eddie exchanged another look with Steve, then back to you.
Now you were the one who looked nervous, taking their silent exchange of a look for something else.
“Did, did you two have fun, too?” you asked, shifting on your feet.
Eddie rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“Well, um, that’s the thing, Princess,” he said, then stopped, unsure of how to phrase things.
“We were, uh,” Steve continued after a moment. “Actually trying to figure all that out. What happened last night, I mean.”
Your eyes widened at their words, and you looked back and forth between the two again.
“You guys don’t remember?” you asked.
Both men shook their heads.
Your mouth dropped opened in shock.
“Exactly h-how drunk were you two last night?” you asked softly.
“I don’t remember leaving The Hideout,” Eddie confessed, with a shrug.
“I barely remember the cab ride here,” Steve said. “Nothing after that though.”
Your hand flew to your mouth, an expression of horror on your face.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” you said, your voice remorseful and you looked on the verge of tears. “I had no idea you guys were that drunk, I swear!”
“No no no!” Eddie said, taking a few steps forward so he could rest a hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault.”
All of a sudden, a very sheepish look came to you face and your cheeks flushed a bright pink.
“Actually, um,” you said. “I kind of initiated the whole thing.”
There was a moment of silence.
“What whole thing?” Steve asked, voice quiet and tinged with awe.
There was another moment of silence.
“You know,” you finally said, then gestured between the three of you, as if you were hesitant to say it. “Us. Having sex. It was my idea.”
There was a lot longer than just a moment of silence after that one.
Steve nearly fell over where he was standing but managed to catch his balance.
Eddie’s hand dropped from your shoulder in shock to hang limply at his side.
Now that it was confirmed, Eddie tried once again to remember the night before. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. The fog of alcohol was still too thick to penetrate with his head in the state it was and straining to think didn’t do anything but make the headache worse.
“So, um,” Steve said, finally breaking the silence and making Eddie look up. “H-How did it happen?”
“Well,” you said slowly, swallowing a bite of cereal. “We’ve all been flirting pretty heavily with each other for a while now, and I’ve had a thing for both of you for a long time before that.” A bashful grin came to your face then. “So, I may have gotten a little buzzed and handsy at the bar, and you both were into it. After we came back here, we had a few more drinks and, well…” You cleared your throat and looked down shyly. “I decided to try my luck and asked if you two wanted to have sex with me.”
Both Eddie and Steve stared at you in shock.
“You’ve had a thing got us for a while?” Eddie said when he finally found his voice again.
You nodded.
There was a short pause in the conversation as they processed this.
“Well?” Steve said after abit. “What’d we say?”
Eddie looked over at him with a raised brow. As if their answer wasn’t obvious already.
“Truthfully, not much,” you said as you looked up. “It escalated pretty quickly after that. Though, you both did double check to make sure I fully understood what I was saying after the alcohol and weed.” A warm smile came to your face. “I thought that was really sweet.”
Now it was Eddie’s turn to look down shyly.
The room was got quiet again.
“But you said you had fun, right?” Steve suddenly asked. You nodded in confirmation. “Then that must mean we did good, right?”
Eddie looked over at Steve, gawking at him. While this was an entirely new situation for him, Eddie was pretty sure it was in poor taste to ask for a report card after having a threesome.
To his surprise, you didn’t seem to mind. Biting your bottom lip, you grinned and nodded.
Eddie couldn’t help but grin himself then, a boost of confidence suddenly coming back. It briefly made him forget about the oddness of this situation.
“Yeah?” he asked, then decided to be bold. “How good?”
Now you were blushing again.
“Well, I’m pretty sore today,” you said, your voice going a bit higher pitched, so you had to clear your throat before continuing. “You both were pretty enthusiastic all night.”
It wasn’t too long after that you had to leave since you were supposed to meet up with family later on. The three of you kept conversation light as you and Steve finished dressing, talking about your plans for the day.
Once you got ready to leave, you gave them each a soft kiss on the lips.
“Hopefully once the hangovers go away you guys will remember some of it,” you said with a smile as you headed for the door.
“I sure as hell hope so, Princess,” Eddie groaned before he could stop himself.
While he turned red at his own words, you giggled at him as you opened the door to leave. It was the first time Eddie had ever heard that sound from you and it made his heart speed up. It gave him even more of his confidence back.
“If we don’t remember, any chance there could be a redo?” Eddie asked before he could talk himself out of it.
You froze in mid-step halfway out the door and turned quickly to look at Eddie. The shock on your face was almost comical. A quick glance over at Steve showed him staring at Eddie in horror. Looking back at you, Eddie gave you his biggest grin and winked at you, which he was delighted to see made you blush.
“Um, I-I don’t know,” you said, and then a grin of your own slowly spread across your face. “Maybe. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
You sent a wink back at Eddie before leaving then. Steve wasn’t too far behind, heading out himself just a few minutes later.
Plopping down on the couch as he listened to Steve’s car driving away, Eddie sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Initially, he didn’t have plans for today, but now he knew what he was going to spend the rest of his day doing.
Trying to remember fucking his two very hot best friends.
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purple-babygirl · 4 years ago
Note
Oh oh what about Bucky's little staying over at Steve's for the weekend cause Bucky is busy. She's being a brat but whenever Steve calls Bucky to show him she's a Angel. So Bucky sneaks by unexpected & sees her being a brat
Word Count: 2,901 (i tried to cut it short, i tried, but i'm hopeless when it comes to soft stuff)
Warnings: ddlg dynamics, and angst i think? the rest is fluff
A/N: Nonnie, thank you so much for sending this and sharing your idea with me. i hope i didn't take too long and i hope i didn't disappoint?:" please enjoy xx.
Alternative ending
~
bratty angel
“Give her the phone, would you? I missed her,” Bucky requested, desperate to hear the little one's voice.
“Quick question while I still have you though,” Steve scratched the back of his head, not sure if he should tell Bucky.
“Yeah?”
“What do you usually do with her if she's being a little.. troublesome?” Steve didn't want to get her punished; he just wanted a way to deal with her behavior.
Steve obviously knew he could punish her the small punishments, like no screen time for a day or a timeout, but he didn't want to. She already seemed to dislike him enough, he wasn't about to make it worse. He didn't want to punish her but he also couldn't take all the brattiness and backtalk.
He was a kind uncle and he actually enjoyed being around her. But her behavior has been driving him crazy this time and it needed to stop. He knew she didn't want Bucky to leave this time and was most likely punishing Steve for telling him he could take care of her while he was gone. She probably thought Bucky would've stayed if there was no one to tend to her during his absence, and she had Steve to blame for it.
“Being what? What did she do?” Bucky's angry voice asked from the other side of the phone, and Steve could picture him narrowing his eyes.
“It's nothing major, Buck-”
“What did she do, Steve?”
“Well, uh, for starters she says no to almost everything even if she's eventually gonna do it anyway. She knocks stuff over when I don't do what she wants and pretends it was an accident,” Steve stopped and sighed, “she's giving me a hard time and it all goes away when you call!” Steve almost whined.
He sighed again when Bucky went silent, knowing she'd really get it now but she didn't exactly leave him much of a choice.
“I'm gonna handle it. I'm sorry, Steve,” Bucky said, sounding pissed.
“Hey, it's all good. Hold on, I'll give her the phone.”
“Yeah, please do.” Bucky wasn't as excited to talk to her anymore.
He could hear Steve softly calling out for her to come talk to Daddy and her feet hitting the wooden floor as she came to the phone. What he didn't hear though was a thank you to Steve.
“Dada!” Her happy voice spoke and Bucky couldn't help but smile a little.
“Hey, doll! How've you been?”
“Been good, dada. Missed you,” she sighed, pouting.
“I missed you too, baby. Are you behaving for Uncle Steve?”
“Yes, daddy,” she lied all too quickly and Bucky clenched his jaw.
“Good girl.”
~
“Sweetheart, please get in your skirt,” Steve sighed again, holding the item of clothing low for her to step into.
“No.” Her naked leg kicked the mini skirt from Steve's hands before she crossed her legs and leaned on her bed.
“Don't make this hard now!” Steve rubbed his face in frustration.
“I'll do what I want. You're not my daddy,” she said stubbornly before snatching the skirt off the floor and slipping it up her legs to her waist. If she looked messy, she didn't care.
When she turned around to leave the unorganized room, Bucky was standing there with the biggest scowl on his face. Her heart stopped and her world froze. How come they didn't know he was arriving today? How come they didn't hear him come in?
“Dada,” she whispered in mixed fear and shame, making Steve look up, a look of utter relief washing over him when he saw his best friend.
Everything was about to get better now that Bucky was here, including her temper.
“Is that what I taught you, little one?” Bucky's tone dripped of disappointment.
“Dada.” Tears quickly came to her eyes as she saw the letdown look in Bucky's.
“And here I was thinking you were my good girl, returning home early to see you.” Bucky shook his head at her.
“Dada, I am your good girl. I am,” she begged, walking closer to him, but Bucky didn't reciprocate.
“Dada, I missed you.” She went to hug Bucky but he stepped away. She tried to hold his hand and he slipped his fingers out of her grab.
“You don't get to welcome daddy home after you've disrespected Uncle Steve like that, little girl,” Bucky told her, his frown not disappearing, only deepening.
“Dada, I'm sorry.” Her lower lip trembled.
She’s missed Bucky so much. She was touch-starved because she hadn't given Steve a chance to come anywhere near her all weekend. She refused to let him hug her, kiss her, or carry her. She was distant and bratty and rude. She needed Bucky's warm touch but he was far too mad at her.
“I'm not the one you should be apologizing to.” Bucky crossed his arms, looking at Steve behind her.
“Uncle Steve, I'm s-sorry,” she mumbled quickly, without even looking at the blond man, moving to hug Bucky again but he still wouldn't let her.
“Dada,” she called, tears leaving her eyes.
“You have to mean it, little one.”
“Daddy, I mean it,” she whined. It frustrated her little heart that Bucky kept calling her little one. He only did that when he was mad at her; too angry to use a pet name.
“Enough lying already!” Bucky raised his voice and she flinched.
“I'm not going to talk to you or touch you until you've made it up to Uncle Steve. Until then I'm gonna pretend I haven't come home and saw what I just saw.” Bucky left her room, walking over to his and slamming the door behind him.
He didn't normally choose to be hard on her; she was his baby doll, but what she did with Steve was just unacceptable. Bucky couldn't let her get away with disrespecting anyone, especially Steve, not after witnessing it all himself.
He'd thought it over on his way home. If he spanked her or took her favourite things away, she'd dislike Steve even more, if not hate him. Bucky couldn't give her more things to blame Steve for or more reasons to refuse him.
~
“Sweetheart,” Steve called, feeling bad after Bucky left and she stood by the door frame and started crying.
He didn't really want Bucky to punish her; he just wanted to know how to deal with her bratty behavior. He just wanted a way to communicate better. Steve never intended on making her cry. Bucky surprised him with that punishment.
“'S all because of you. I hate you!” She cried harder, throwing herself on her bed to hide her face in the mattress as she sobbed.
Her words broke Steve's heart to tiny pieces and he felt even worse now that Bucky was here. His mouth opened but no words came to him so he closed it again. He gathered her clothes from the floor and hung them back in her closet before leaving her to cry it out, giving her some time.
~
“I'm so sorry, Steve.” Bucky shook his head, embarrassed by her behavior towards his best friend.
“Hey, it's alright. I know she's a good girl; she just missed you.”
“You know I missed her too but she can't just get away with such stuff,” Bucky sighed, taking another sip from his beer.
“I know.”
“Dada.” She entered the room after a good crying session, rubbing her puffy eyes.
True to his previous words, Bucky didn't answer her, swallowing the lump in his throat with his beer. He couldn't give in.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Steve responded instead, not wanting to leave her hanging, which made her pout in annoyance.
Like him and Bucky had agreed, if she wanted anything she'd have to go to Uncle Steve for it and relearn to use her manners.
“Dada,” she called again and got the same reaction. Bucky pretended he wasn't there.
Tears gathered in her eyes again and she hid her face in her hands and began crying. The sound shook Bucky's heart and he almost broke and forgave her.
“Hey, hey, no, it's alright,” Steve cooed, immediately coming to her side.
He hated this. Once he got her to stop crying he was going to talk to Bucky about calling it off. He didn't care if she was bratty or bad-mannered, he just wanted her happy again.
Steve led her back to her room and sat down on the bed beside her.
“Daddy's never gonna speak to me again!” She sobbed and Steve's heart ached for her.
“Sweetheart, please don't cry.” He gently patted her back.
“Can't you just tell him I said sorry and I mean it?” A pair of teary eyes implored Steve's blue ones.
“I will, but no more tears, okay?” Steve quickly agreed, wanting her to calm down.
“You will?” She wiped at her cheeks and Steve nodded with half a smile, his thumb catching her new tears.
“You'd lie to daddy for me?” Her red eyes widened.
“I'd do lots of stuff for you.” Steve chuckled.
“Like what?” She mumbled, sniffing and wiping her nose before Steve grabbed her a tissue off the bedside table.
“Like let you pour your milk on me and pretend it was an accident.” Steve smiled fondly, dabbing the tissue on her wet cheeks and under her nose.
In that moment as she looked up at the man with tear-filled eyes, her little mind seemed to recall all the ways she'd tortured him all week. She'd disobeyed nearly everything he'd told her and he still didn't hurt her or even raise his voice at her. She'd 'accidently' dumped all the salt in the salt shaker on his dinner. She'd dropped his phone on the kitchen counter multiple times after talking to Bucky, adding to the cracks on its screen. She'd wet him and got soap in his eyes during shower time. She'd constantly knocked stuff out of his hands whenever he held them out for her. She's been a real demon. If it was Bucky he would've punished her in every way in the book. But Steve didn't. He didn't make her pay for any of it and he was ready to lie to Bucky to save her bratty, ungrateful ass from having to endure his silent treatment.
“And then you leave?” She wondered.
She saw Steve's face fall at her question. She really did hate him, didn't she?
“And then I leave.” He still nodded with a kind smile.
“But could you not though?” She whispered, playing with the ends of her mini skirt.
“What?” Steve looked at her in surprise; he must've heard her wrong.
“Don't leave,” she told him, clearer this time, awkwardly extending her hand to touch his.
“Sweetheart-”
“I'm sorry, Uncle Steve,” she started tearing up again in regret, “I didn't mean to be so bad.” She shook her head and cried.
“Aw, sweetheart, it's okay.” Steve hugged her to his side, smoothing a hand on her head.
That was all he needed to hear.
“You know I like you, right?” She asked, sniffing in his shirt and Steve chuckled.
“Yeah?” He asked cheekily and she nodded, silently crying.
“Yeah, you make the best cookies, but don't tell daddy,” she said and Steve chuckled, “I'm sorry.” She cried more.
“I like you too, darling. Don't cry now, we're good.” He assured her, holding her closer to him and gently patting her back.
“So you’ll stay?”
“If that's what you want.” Steve's thumb wiped her tears away as she nodded again.
She wanted to make things up to Uncle Steve like Daddy wanted and Uncle Steve deserved. She wanted to show him she truly was a good girl.
“On one condition though,” Steve said playfully, slipping her hair behind her ear.
She looked up at him, waiting for his next words.
“You let me take care of you like I was supposed to.” Steve's face was serious. It was all he wanted all weekend.
“Okay.” She nodded, smiling tearfully.
How kind was Uncle Steve and how blind was she to not see it!
Steve kissed her forehead and smiled down at her, wiping the rest of her tears away. He adjusted her skirt before they walked back out hand in hand and he sat her down on the couch beside Bucky, who on his turn pretended she wasn't there.
Was Bucky curious about what happened in there? Yeah, he was. But he wasn't about to ask her. He was just glad Steve has got her to stop crying because nothing hurt more than seeing her pretty face all sad and teary.
Steve prepared her snack and came back. He lifted her on his lap and handed her the plate before grabbing the remote to turn on her favourite afternoon show.
“Thank you, Uncle Steve,” she whispered shyly, kissing the man's cheek.
Steve smiled and kissed her temple, rubbing her back as he encouraged her to eat, even feeding her a couple of times and she let him, thanking him every time.
Bucky raised an eyebrow at the scene unfolding beside him but still held back from interfering or interacting with her. He was still mad and she needed to prove herself good again. He bit back a smile, pressing the beer bottle to his lips instead.
~
As the day came to an end and Steve put her to bed, she was keeping her 'please' and 'thank you's up, using her manners just right and Bucky would secretly, proudly grin every time she did.
“Would you please tell daddy I said goodnight?” She asked Steve, trying not to cry again before bed. She'd wished he'd forgive her by bedtime but he clearly didn't.
“I will, sweetheart. And I'm sure he wishes you a good night too,” Steve pecked her forehead and she smiled.
“Goodnight, Uncle Steve.” She pecked his cheek before resting back, pulling the covers to her chin.
If Bucky was listening, he made no effort to let any of them know.
~
The next morning Bucky was the same, still giving her a taste of her own medicine. She wanted to cry again but didn't, focusing on fixing things with Uncle Steve, whom she'd been awful to.
“Uncle Steve, please come with me?” She held onto Steve's wrist while he stood with Bucky in the kitchen.
Steve mumbled a 'sure', tilting his head in confusion as he followed the shorter girl.
She sat him on her bed and stood on her tiptoes till she reached her pink piggy bank on the upper shelf on her wall.
She walked to Steve and put the small safe in his lap, “I thought all morning long,”
“What's this, sweetheart?” Steve eyed the object before looking at her.
She smiled sheepishly before shaking the safe left and right in his lap, “to fix Uncle Steve's phone.”
Steve's heart soared in his chest and he remained speechless. She waited for him to take the money but he didn't.
“'S a lot of money. Dada gave me some to keep with piggy every day,” she assured Steve, taking his big hands and wrapping them around the pink safe, wanting him to accept it.
“Sweetheart,” Steve mumbled, setting the piggy bank on the bed before holding her to his chest.
She let herself be squished in his embrace as she stood between his legs, not really understanding what was happening, but at least he wasn't mad at her.
“You don't have to do that.” Steve shook his head before kissing her head.
“But I wanna make it up to you, Uncle Steve. I can't take away the salt in your food or the soap in your eyes or the milk on your pants-” She stopped and pulled back and her smaller hand cupped Steve's cheek, “do you wamme to wash your pants?”
Oh, how precious! She spent her morning thinking about ways to fix what she'd done to him. And she wanted to give him all of her savings to fix his phone. She was even ready to try and clean his pants. She was such a kind little one.
He’d done it. She finally likes him. Steve was beside himself at the progress. This kind of connection with her was all he ever wanted and it made him forget about whatever evil things she'd done during that weekend.
And on the other side of the wall stood a very pleased Bucky.
~
When they walked back out to the living room, Steve was beaming as he helped her up on his lap. Her body was facing Bucky’s as she leaned onto Steve’s chest. She looked at Bucky and when he looked back she cast her eyes down in shame.
“Come here, doll.” Bucky beckoned, opening his arms for her.
She grinned happily, jumping into them as he lifted her to straddle him. She wrapped her arms around Bucky's neck, burying her face in his shoulders and smelling his scent. Steve smiled, satisfied with their reunion.
Bucky wrapped her up tightly in his arms, pressing a longing kiss to the side of her head, “I missed you too, doll. I missed you so bad.”
“I’m sorry, dada,” she sniffled, clutching Bucky’s shirt.
“I know, doll.” Bucky pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there.
In each others' arms, now both, her and Bucky, were really home.
1K notes · View notes
xutokawa · 4 years ago
Note
aahh the s/o finding scratch marks is fulfilling my angst needs 😭🤚🏽 could u maybe do one with bokuto & suna 🥺 i love your writing so much!! xx
pairings: suna x reader, bokuto x reader
genre(s): fluff to angst, cheating
warnings: langauge, cheating
wc: 2.3k
» masterlist
a/n: thank you for your support! I tried adding more plot to it this time hehe. breaking bokuto’s heart broke mine bro :( hope you like it! also TYSM GUYS FOR 200 FOLLOWERS FDJSKF i love every single one of yu :D <3 mwah mwah mwah
atsumu and oikawa ver.
osamu and iwazumi ver.
kuroo and sakusa ver.
akaashi and hinata ver.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Suna
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“Rin, hand me the soy sauce,” you asked, not looking up from the dish you were stir frying.
“Get it yourself,” Suna teased back. Rolling your eyes, you stuck out your hand. Laughing, Suna came up behind you, placing the bottle of soy sauce in your hands before wrapping his arms around your waist. His hands snuck under your shirt, laying on your bare stomach. You leaned back into his chest, sighing contently. The two of you rarely had time together anymore. While you were burying yourself in your work in hopes for a promotion, Suna was busy with practices that extended throughout the whole day. Both of you were exhausted by the time you came home to your apartment together, unable to muster the energy to do anything except fall asleep in each other’s arms.
“Mmm, you smell good,” Suna said, taking a deep breath into your neck.
“I think that’s the fried rice you’re smelling,” you joked back. Butterflies stormed your stomach as Suna’s hands gently massaged your sides. Even after living with the middle blocker for three years, he never failed to make you feel like a crushing high school student. Suddenly, Suna’s gentle hands grew antsy, teasingly tickling your sides. Jumping, you tell him, “Rin, stop! I’m going to spill something!”
“I think I’ll keep going,” Suna teased back, his hands continuing to tickle you. With one poke to your side, your entire body jerked, causing the soy sauce in your hand to fling into the air, and onto Suna’s shirt.
“Y/n! I really liked this shirt!” Suna whined. 
“That’s your fault, baby. I told you to stop,” you shrugged, laughing at his expression.
“Whatever, I’m going to go change,” Suna pouted, turning away.
As you finished cooking, you went into your shared bedroom to tell Suna dinner was ready. You were stopped in your tracks, however, when you saw his changing form. Back to you, long scratch marks ran down the length of his back. Scratches that were not put there by you. 
“R-rin, what is this?” You asked, voice beginning to waver.
Suna spun around, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
“Y/n! Why didn’t you knock?” Suna nervously asked, rushing to push his t-shirt over his head, “It’s nothing, babe, just uh, got in a fight!”
“Are you sure it was a fight? Or was it a late night in someone else's bed?” You asked accusingly, brows furrowing. Would your Suna cheat on you? You had felt pretty secure about your relationship before now, never having a reason to doubt your trust in your boyfriend. Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to make excuses for the lines raked down his back. 
Pain and guilt flashed across Suna’s eyes, and that’s when you knew. You were wrong to believe you gave him everything he needed in a relationship.
“Look, y/n, we can figure this out, just let me-” Suna began.
“Please, stop,” you choked out, eyes welling up with tears. The middle blocker felt his heart shatter watching you back away from him as if he were a plague. 
“No, you don’t understand! I can’t lose you like this,” Suna said, walking towards you, wanting nothing more than to pull you in his arms and wipe your tears away. He stopped in his tracks, however, when you flinched away from his touch, hatred flickering in your eyes. At that moment, Suna felt like the scum of the earth.
“Please, get away from me. Get out of this room, get out of this apartment! I don’t need your excuses,” You said, voice raising. When you finally looked up to meet Suna’s eyes, you found nothing but despair and regret. 
“No! I won’t leave you, y/n! You don’t understand how much I need-” Suna started.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Rintarou,” you scoffed. The pain in Suna’s chest grew at the use of his full name.
“I-it’s Rin. You always call me Rin. Please, call me Rin,” Suna pleaded, voice beginning to shake, “Stop distancing yourself from me. I’m your Rin. Please, don’t leave. I’m so sorry, let me make it up to you!”
“You’re a pathetic piece of shit, Rintarou! Cheating on me and then begging for me to stay and forgive you? Tell me, what was your plan? Did you just want a quick fuck one night? Or did you plan to keep cheating on me for the rest of our relationship?” You angrily walked towards him. Suna watched as the love you once held in your eyes for him turned into agony. He felt himself crumple knowing he was the sole cause of your anger and hurt.
“No! It was a mistake! Please, let me make it up to you,” Suna reached for your hands, desperate to have you with him.
“The only mistake that was made here was me trusting you,” You said, spinning around as you headed for the door. Suna physically flinched at your words, hurt and shame flooding his body. Panic filled his mind at the sound of your keys jingling and the sound of you putting on your shoes.
“Wait! Y/n, where are you going? Please don’t leave, it’s not safe for you to go out right now. Just stay and let us talk about it,” Suna pleaded, walking up behind you.
“I’d rather be anywhere but here with you right now,” you coldly replied, reaching out for the door handle. Suna rushed to stop you from turning the knob.
“Please, y/n, I can’t handle you leaving me,” Suna whispered.
“Just leave it, Suna. No amount of begging or love can fix my trust for you,” you replied, back towards his sobbing figure. Suna finally fell to his knees in defeat as you walked out of the apartment, knowing he lost you forever.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Bokuto
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“Ugh, I’m so ready to just relax,” you sighed out, dramatically splaying your arms across the center console in your fiancé’s car. A tingle ran up your spine at the sound of Bokuto chuckling from beside you, not taking his eyes off the road. You could never get used to his laugh, no matter how many times you’ve heard it.
“I know, baby. You deserve it,” Bokuto replied, taking one hand off the steering wheel to place on your thigh, giving a light squeeze. The two of you had been insanely busy the month leading up to this trip. From your boss’ unrelenting demands at work to your family’s constant nagging and opinions on your wedding decorations, the two of you just needed to catch a break. So, when Bokuto brought up the idea of a weekend beach trip, you immediately agreed, jumping up and down in excitement.
The beaming sun immediately warmed your skin as you stepped out of the car. Warmth spread through your body as you glanced back at Bokuto as he started pulling out your stuff from the trunk, looking up to flash you his smile you had fallen in love with ages ago. 
“You go on ahead and find a spot for us, I’ll follow in a second,” Bokuto called out to you. Giving a thumbs up, you started towards the gleaming ocean, excitement filling your body as you felt the sand beneath your feet. Finally, choosing a spot, you unfolded your beach chair, spreading your towel across the top. A smile settled on your face as you laid down, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the harsh rays. Your eyes drifted closed, the sounds of waves crashing and children giggling putting you in a serene state.
Bokuto chuckled at your appearance before setting up his own beach chair next to you, situating a beach umbrella between the two chairs. He felt his heart speed up as he gazed at your relaxing figure, wanting nothing more than to cover your face in kisses. The spiker felt so much love for you, so he felt nothing but confusion as to how he woke up in another person’s bed two nights ago, naked. His adoration for you was replaced with guilt. Bokuto still hadn’t figured out how to approach the situation, how to tell you without you breaking off the engagement. He wanted nothing more than to watch you walk down the aisle in a few months, than to have children running around the two of you as you prepared dinner, than to grow old with you by his side. Bokuto was still unsure of what happened that night to cause him to slip out of a random person’s apartment in his clothes from the previous night.
The spiker was shook from his thoughts at the sound of your voice. 
“Are you going into the water?” you asked, looking up at him.
“Yeah, I think I will just to cool off,” Bokuto replied, pulling his shirt over his head.
“Okay, I’ll join you in a bit, I just want to lay for a little longer,” you replied to him, closing your eyes again.
“Okay, baby. Take your time,” Bokuto said, placing a kiss on your forehead before starting towards the water. You giggled as you watched your fiancé run towards the ocean. Your laughter quickly died, however, once you saw his back.
Your eyes widen with a mixture of shock and confusion, racking your brain for an explanation for the long, red strips that lined your fiance's back, but, no matter how hard you thought, nothing came up. The past month had been too hectic for the two of you to ever get close to intimate. Tears began pricking your eyes as the realization that Bokuto had cheated on you settled in your mind. 
Does he know he has scratch marks on his back? Is this his subtle way of telling me he wants to end this? That I wasn’t enough for him?
As soon as Bokuto hit the ocean, the salty water stung his back. His initial confusion as to where the pain came from was quickly replaced with realization. He shot up at the water, turning to watch you get up from your seat. 
Maybe they didn’t see, he hoped. His hopes, however, were quickly crushed as his heart dropped to his feet. You began to gather your things, rummaging through Bokuto’s belongings until you found the keys to his car.
Panicking, Bokuto ran out of the ocean as fast as he could, cursing at the water for resisting his movements. He watched helplessly as you began walking back towards the parking lot. You saw. You saw the scratch marks, and now you were leaving Bokuto. The spiker’s worst nightmares were turning into a reality right in front of his eyes.
The dull shouting of your name from down the beach sounded in your ears. You ignored Bokuto’s incessant calls for you, the ache in your heart overpowering every emotion you were feeling. 
Bokuto ran through the sand as fast as he could, hoping to catch up to you before you left his life forever. His lungs and legs were screaming, but the pain was nothing compared to the pain of you leaving. Panic rose in his eyes as he watched you get into the driver's seat, starting the engine to his car. 
Wiping the tears from your eyes, you took a shaky breath, a weak attempt to try and calm your heart. You looked down at your engagement ring, memories of that night flashing through your mind, forcing another sob to rack your body knowing that your memories now meant nothing. Banging on the car window startled you as you looked up to find a panicked Bokuto. His frantic words were muffled as you watched him desperately attempt to stop you from leaving. 
“Please, y/n, roll down the window. Let me explain, please,” Bokuto blabbered, “Y/n, please don’t leave me, you have to let me explain. I love you! I want to marry you, and you only!”
Anger surged through your body as you scoffed at his words. Rage blinded your thoughts at the mention of your impending marriage. How dare he tell you he wants to get married after cheating on you? Your brain didn’t have time to process your movements as you pulled your ring off your left hand. You watched as a glimmer of hope flickered in Bokuto’s eyes as you began to roll down the window, only to have his eyes widen in pain and shock as you handed him your engagement ring.
“You’re really a piece of shit, Bokuto. You know that?” Tears began welling up in the spiker’s eyes as he stared at the piece of metal that laid in his hands. 
“No, y/n, please. Give me your hand, please,” Bokuto frantically pleaded, reaching for your hand. The ring in his hand belonged nowhere else except your ring finger. 
“Just stop, Bokuto, you’ve already ruined everything,” you scoffed out. As his eyes met yours, he was met with a whirlwind of hurt, shame, and pity. That’s when he realized. To you, he was pathetic. The love and adoration that made your eyes shine brighter than the sun was now replaced with hatred and pain, making them burn greater than the depths of hell.
Bokuto’s heart shattered into pieces knowing you would never love him the same, knowing he broke your trust. 
“I-,” Bokuto paused, unsure of what else he could say to get you back.
“I’m sorry, y/n” the man in front of you choked out. Bokuto felt helpless as he watched you roll up your window and drive away from him, leaving him in shattered pieces.
That night, when Bokuto finally returned to his shared apartment, the reality of the situation hit him. The empty aura filling the space that he used to share with you was all it took for Bokuto to fall onto his knees, becoming a shell of his former self. You were gone.
3K notes · View notes
ch1bii · 2 years ago
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took me until 4am to finish BUT I FUCKIN DID IT Y’ALL
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okay but this gameplay was honestly wild like it was just all over the place 😭 so first i set up a schedule of frequently going shopping and answering his emails on the weekends and having a mix of hanging out with natsumi or doing handicraft club activities during the week. but then later on i realized being at :D with natsumi was going to affect my requirements for chiharu and worried that i’d eventually fulfill hers instead of his so then i just started ignoring her completely 💀 and i would also hang out with arisawa only to study for testing periods but even that made her go up to :D so i started ignoring her as well 😭 yea i was a pretty bitchy friend this gameplay only for the sole purpose to win at it; plus i’ve ended up with both of their endings more than once so it’s just 50/50 now 😒 anywho at one point i struggled with getting chiharu’s cg of him using his laptop at the park in autumn even when i followed the requirements of getting it 👹 but ig i must’ve missed something or just witnessed a slight misinfo. i’ve already gotten the cg in another gameplay anyways so it really wasn’t such a big deal 😦 also one time when i hanged out with arisawa on a sunday chiharu was in the background??? but it says he only does that when you fully fulfill his requirements to get his ending and at that time i was barely halfway through his emails 😭 but sadly when i tried saving it i instead load back to a previous slot 💀 so i’m not sure if it was a glitch or that maybe instead it has to do with him being at :) with you??? and if that’s also the case with the cg incident??? idk we can’t really check that so i’m still not sure 😭 anywho after all that i was already near 3rd year and had finished all of chiharu’s emails. so i was just left with trying to lower other ppls stats and dealing with hazuki being a little bitch for “ignoring” him when all he does is avoid me 👹 and so i was kinda feeling miserable cause i wasn’t sure if i was even going to be able to manage getting chiharu’s next cg on time and having to end up with wasting my time over nothing, leading to another long hiatus of avoiding and hating this game 💀
that was until i stepped upon a lil something…
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more like someone 🤭
YUP THATS RIGHT. FUCKIN MORIMURA SAKUYA AKA MORI-RIN CAME AND SAVED THE GAME. And when I tell y’all that i didn’t even do this on purpose I MEAN IT. LIKE HE LITERALLY JUST APPEARED WITHOUT ANY KNOWING OF MY ACTIONS. to be fair i DID use the studying by urself command BUT IT WAS DURING THE END OF 2ND YEAR in which i assumed he’d only appear this way in 1ST year 😭😭😭 so yea i was just fuckin 🤭🤭🤭 the whole time, like any tear i felt like shedding before just completely evaporated i am dead serious. WITH HIM TSUKUSHI FINALLY GOT OFF MY ASS ABOUT ENDING UP AN OLD MAID AND ACTUALLY HAD SOMEONE I COULD SPEND NEW YEARS WITH 💀 no cause i swear bro is too underrated when he is literally the sweetest (and the best) guy in this game I SAID WHAT I SAID 🙄 anywho yea life was good i even started having more hope in getting what i want i was even near finishing 3rd year 🤭 so now i’m near new years where tons of stuff happens in like one week 😦 so first i get club master in handcraft club!!! and i even get this thing where mori-rin comes after the like award thing and congratulates me, even sharing how his mother did handicrafting and gets emotional 🙁 (such a nice add in) then later on in the week i get offered to work at my flower shop job full time??? and there was somthin else but i forgot 💀 anywho there i was nervous for january cause that’s supposedly when the important chiharu cg is. and just when i knew, THERE IT WAS 🤭 and i’m ngl that it’s honestly such a cute cg and probs one of my favs like agh what chiharu says is so meaningful… maybe i just have a weakness 💀 anywho right there and then i felt COMPLETE 🙏🙏🙏 i even FINALLY got chiharu’s emote in the saving section 👏👏👏 even tho it’s kinda disappointing (or i should say rather CREEPY 😨) by how it’s just him spying at ur character thru bushes 😦 istg they could’ve done anything but THAT like maybe ur character and him using their laptops side by side then they look at each other OR OR ur character using it’s laptop then chiharu somehow pops up in the back 😭 idk but ANYTHING could’ve worked better 💀 moving on WE’RE FINALLY OFF TO GRADUATION DAY!!! after taking the entrance exam in which i applied for a first rate university and here i am STILL hoping i don’t get absolutely played and that all goes well 😰 we get to the church, chiharu appears, says his lovely dovey stuff, share a kiss, then the rest is history 🤭 ngl like the cg the confession was pretty cute and genuine, although compared to others why was the mc completely DRY in replying like bro expresses his feelings and we’re just like “okay” or “…” 💀💀💀 but ig it’s understandable when in reality we kinda don’t know much about the guy and was ghosted by him for idk how long then he just comes and confesses💀 it’s why i kinda just like to imagine side emails we’re definitely a thing between em so that it wouldn’t be so bland in what we know abt each other but yea 🤷🏻‍♀️ to finish off this idk how long blog it was unexpectedly a satisfying gameplay and i had some fun with it even if i rushed thru most of it bc of how i just wanted to go to bed 💀 but it was worth it at the end 🤭
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chimeracowgirl · 4 years ago
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Floral Arrangements
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Summary // Flowers the AOT characters would give you & what they represent
Characters: Armin, Eren, Connie, Jean, Levi, Zeke
Warnings: Slight mention of Daddy Kink
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Armin
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Tulips | Deep Connection, Appreciation
Armin gifts you tulips because they’re a flower you can plant and continue to grow, just like your relationship. They express how he feels one with you and the empathic nature you have for one another.
Evenings spent at the beach watching the sunset with Armin were pretty common. At this point, it was close to being a tradition. While he always kept a pastel yellow blanket in the back of his car and you always made sure to bring along snacks, you were a bit confused when Armin advised you to not worry about it this time. He had already stuffed a woven basket with all your favorite items and made note of the flowers you had eyed last time you both visited your sacred spot. So as the both of you make your way closer to the shore, cool sand beneath your feet, you help Armin spread out the blanket and weigh it down with your shoes. As you claim your spot on the soft fabric, he begins to pull out the snacks along with the orange tulips.
“I hope you like them”  he sheepishly says, a small smile forming to conceal his nerves. 
Eren
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Roses | Undying Love, Affection
Eren gifts you roses because they convey his passion for you. You see red roses, you think love. And Eren is determined to make everything he feels for you known. Whether that’s to the world or you or both. He’s a spontaneous lover.
As you both are heading home from running errands, sitting in the 5 o’clock traffic, you distract yourself by aimlessly scrolling on social media. Small conversation being exchanged between you and Eren as he keeps his focus on the stagnant cars in front of him. He notices a group of people walking down the street, vibrant flowers in hand. The closer they get he can hear them yelling out “ Five dollars a bouquet!” Signs accompanying them asking to help support  worker’s rights. You lift your head up from your phone and before you can realize what’s going on, you see Eren lowering his window, waving the man over.  
“I’ll take them all please” He says as he pulls out two twenties.
The vendor thanks him repeteadly with a nod of his head and hands over every bouquet in hand, to which Eren places into your lap.
Your confusion now amplified even more so, but not as severe as the swelling of your heart for the loving gesture, you let out a breathy laugh.
“Eren, what in the world?”
“What? I’m supporting a cause” he justifies with a toothy grin, knowing that wasn’t his only motive in doing so
Connie
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Gerbera Daises | Playful, Innocent Love
Connie gifts Gerbera Daises because of how colorful they are. Night adventures are pretty common and being around you heightens his playful personality. It’s nothing but laughing fits and genuine comfort when in the presence of one another.
Neon signs and city lights illuminate the streets as you and Connie make your way towards the subway. Returning from your late night pizza run, you walk hand in hand listening to his corny jokes. Giggles filling the air as you lean into his side, Connie tightens his grip on your hand, forcing you to run with him to God knows where. He had noticed the bright red sign reading “FLOWERS” down the street, past the subway stop you both were supposed to get on. 
“What are you doing?” you ask while continuing to laugh at his shenanigans. 
“Getting you flowers, duh” he says while turning to face you and pointing upwards to the sign above him.
You both wander the shop, admiring the variety of flowers among you. Connie begins to pick out radiant daises, ranging from pink, yellow, and orange. 
“Do you like these?” he asks, looking for your approval
You reply with a nod of your head and beaming smile.
“Perfect. Help me pick out some more”
Jean
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Lillies | Purity, Virtue 
Jean gifts Lillies because they’re pure, just like his intentions for you. All he ever wants is to be the reason you smile. He’s supportive in everything you do and you’re the same for him. He shows his appreciation for you often and while it appears in various forms, he likes to make sure you know how much you’re on his mind with tangible gifts.
After hearing your sobs over the phone from the previous night and the strain in your voice the following morning due to the stress you’ve been under from school/work, Jean decides to head over to your apartment. He figures you could use a break and since you’re not giving yourself it, he will. So as he makes his way over to you, he stops at a local florist and grabs a bouquet of Lillies, making sure to also snag a coffee from the cafe next door, before continuing his venture to you. 
As you lay in bed, engulfed by the warmth of your comforter, you hear a knock at your door. You make your way over, still swaddled in your blankets and open it to find Jean staring back at you, stifling a laugh at the sight of you as little burrito. Only then do you realize the gifts in his hands, and look up at him with thankful eyes. 
“Seemed like you could use some company” he says while entering and handing over your coffee. He had your order memorized just like very other little detail about you. 
Settling into his presence, you grab a vase for the flowers and fill it with water. Placing them in, you notice the little card accompanying the white lilies. Written on it is “Be kind to yourself, my love” and as Jean watches you read it, he walks over the other side of the island to where you are
“Please” he mumbles before planting a kiss on your forehead.
Levi
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Peonies | Prosperity, Compassion
Levi gifts peonies, accompanied by eucalyptus because he cares deeply although it may be hard to express sometimes. It’s very subtle but with these flowers he’s able to root himself deeply into you the way you did him. The eucalyptus helps ease the everyday stress you (and him) face.
The sunlight shines through the blinds, awakening you as you lay in bed turning over to find your lover missing. 
Levi always woke up earlier than you, but usually on weekends he’d stay in bed with you a little longer until you woke up. This morning though, he decided to occupy himself by visiting the plant nursery you both had spotted driving home one evening. He remembered your comment on wanting to get a bouquet for your shared apartment, something to make it more lively. So as a way to let you know he was listening, he purchased flowers and decided to construct an assortment for you. Peach peonies for the pop of color and eucalyptus as aromatherapy. Sure, he could have bought a pre-made bouquet, but he knew it wouldn't be as perfect as he wanted unless he assembled it. 
So as you crawl out of bed to find him standing over the kitchen sink, trimming stems and placing the flowers into a glass vase, you can’t help but tease him a bit.
“Didn’t know you were a florist” you playfully poke
“Tch, shut it” he jabs with the tiniest grin.
Zeke
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Baby’s Breath & Roses | Purity, Everlasting Love
Zeke gifts you baby’s breath and roses to represent the two extremes in your relationship. It feeds into his Daddy kink, as you’re so pure and perfect for him. The roses are his way of “tainting” you while conveying his feelings of loving you intensely yet delicately. 
Zeke’s always been into the more vintage things. He claims they have more soul, real significance. So as he picks you up to drag you to a new Vinyl Record shop he’s discovered, you’re a bit taken aback when you see flowers resting on his back windshield of his car. Opening the passenger side of the door, you can’t help the curious smile plastered on your face as you begin to ask him what they’re for and why they’re propped there out of all places.
“They add to your aesthetic” He defends while reaching behind your seat to hand you a seperate bouquet of roses decorated with dainty baby’s breath flowers.
“My aesthetic?” you question, quirking an eyebrow to express your confusion as you analyze the bouquet with a smile beginning to tug at the corner of your lips
Lighting a cigarette before pulling out of the driveway, he turns to you with a smirk
“Timeless”
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I literally spent 8 hours looking at photos of flowers to make this. I wish I could say I was joking but I can't. It’s okay though *eye twitch* Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this, please let me know what you think!
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bookishofalder · 4 years ago
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Night Changes [Five]
Series Masterlist
Summary: Poe and the reader eagerly focus on their friendship. Unfortunately for them, life isn’t that easy.
Warnings: Language, mentions of smut, violence, injuries. WC: 11.1K
A/N: Please enjoy this failed attempt at fluff. Also, thank you to @hoeforthefictional for inspiring a scene in this chapter (see: Charlie’s shirts)
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Your hand smacked against the cool steel of the dining table as you snorted, “That is not true!” You exclaimed, watching Poe run his hand over his mouth to try and hide his smile, though you could still see him shaking with laughter. “Poe that was Charlie, it was NOT me!”
“Sure Sweetheart,” He drawled through his chuckles, quirking a brow at you, “Charlie convinced your dad that we could all be trusted on our own for the weekend. ‘Cause, he was the one with the big sad eyes your dad fell for every time.”
You groaned, knowing Poe was right, your giggles confirming it to him even though you didn’t outright admit it. “Well you were the one who suggested we try to nab some booze at Eddard’s,” You pointed at him accusingly as memories of you, Charlie and Poe as preteens trying to break into a closed cantina to steal spotchka replayed in your mind. “I was the only one the old man didn’t hit.”
“My ass smarted for a week after that,” Poe frowned at the memory and you giggled again. He grinned over at you, and you felt a flush of delight at the early morning banter, each of you sipping your caf as the golden sun streamed in through the high windows and the room steadily grew busier around you.
It had been a few weeks since your return from the classified mission, the data collected on the outpost proving to be immeasurably useful, earning you both a very pleased smile from the General. A larger secondary team was already there; though they were outfitted with greater protective equipment and a lot more manpower to clear back some of the overgrown jungle from the base and work to bring it back up and running.
While it was a severe break in protocol, neither you nor Poe included the exposure to the red flower pollen in your mission reports. You described the sighting of the plant, cautioned approached and advised the settlement team to wear protective gear, but that was all. Though a mild amount of guilt settled in your stomach for the breach, the idea of writing down what had happened, of being hauled for questioning and medically assessed, was more than enough to make you feel it was the right decision.
It had taken three days to return to base from the mission. Even after your long conversation with Poe assuring him you were alright and that you didn’t blame him for what happened, he still walked around you like he was afraid any moment you would crack and reveal your anger or mistrust. He’d pointedly refused to touch you or come too close after the initial embrace you shared, and although you disagreed with his reasoning, you couldn’t help the relief that you felt because something about being close to him, touching him, stirred feelings inside you that you didn’t want to address.
It made it easier to focus on repairing your friendship if you maintained a slight distance from the man you’d known your entire life. Better to set aside any feelings or thoughts and work to find your way back to the version of yourself you missed. The one who had been happy. You wanted to be her again because the lonely woman you’d become was less than ideal. And you had missed Poe more than you’d admit.
You just wished you could stop the dreams.
“You know,” You spoke slowly, your eyes losing focus as you thought back to those younger years, “I’m pretty sure that was the weekend I became obsessed with learning about Mandalore. I saw that picture of the really famous one up in the cantina and wanted to know everything about it all.” You shook your head at your youthful silliness, the crush you’d developed for the faceless bounty hunter simply from hearing the tales of his heroics. You’d even had a-
“Remember the picture you had?” Poe cut into your thoughts and you refocused on him, “You had that up for years, on the back of your door, a street artist's painting of the rogue Mandolorian, Charlie teased you all the time for having it.” He was smiling at the memory, his eyes crinkling slightly.
You stared at Poe in surprise as warmth swept through you. “You remember that?” He shrugged, his eyes flicking away to glance at the table as if he was suddenly self-conscious, surprised at himself.
“Yeah, I...” You watched as he appeared to steal himself, his cheeks dusted with colour. “I remember everything. It was always us three, wasn’t it? I’d never forget Charlie or y-you.”
When he looked up again his eyes were burning with bright intensity. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, even as your heartbeat tripled and emotion swelled inside you. Everything else-the noise of the caf, the sounds of others laughter and conversations-it all faded into the background as Poe and you regarded one another across the table.
A hand coming down onto your shoulder jolted you from your thoughts. You glanced up to find Temmin grinning at you both as he moved to take a seat next to you. “Morning, morning,” He glanced over mischievously at Poe, then back to you, “Sorry to interrupt your eye-fuck session, just wondering if you saw our surveillance got moved up?”
Poe was quicker to recover, pulling Temmin’s attention from you as heat flooded your face and you gaped wordlessly. “Uh, to now, I’m assuming?” Poe spared you a glance, his eyes unreadable as you swallowed, embarrassed at your reaction.
You’d anticipated those close to you or Poe to tease you both about the renewed friendship, entirely unsurprised that Temmin was the leading comedian about the entire thing. He’d happily jumped on any excuse to tease, but even though you were never one to flinch away from adult banter, the occasional sexually suggestive comments brought you straight back to the memories from your mission and rendered you speechless each time.
Pursing your lips, you took the last sip of your caf and stood up, your hands automatically sweeping down the front of your flight suit to straighten any wrinkles. You tried to give a half-hearted smile, hoping Temmin didn’t start to think you had a shitty sense of humour.
“I’m going to get started on pre-flight, in that case.”
You glanced at Poe and found he was already watching you, his lips quirking up in a way that made your insides bubble confusingly. Before you could turn away, however, Temmin was gently grabbing your forearm.
“Don’t uh, go that way, use the longer route. For your sanity.” He suggested, grimacing as you groaned in frustration.
“Kriff. Thanks, Snap.” You spun and stalked in the opposite direction, your eyes still scanning to ensure that you didn’t accidentally run into Rush despite Temmin’s warning.
The Healer had not taken kindly to your outright disinterest, apparently taking Poe’s interference at the cantina before your mission as a challenge. You felt you had enough on your plate now to justify not telling him point-blank to fuck off. You’d instead found yourself actively avoiding him, going so far as to duck into storage closets to hide, or in the case of two days ago, hide behind the broader frame of your Captain when you’d spotted the Rush walk into the hangar and look around for you.
Temmin had started to goad you after Rush had departed, stopping when he saw the look on your face and you’d resigned yourself to explain the situation. When you’d finished, he’d offered to talk to the Healer for you, suggested the Poe could and would step in as well, but you had been very clear that you didn’t want either of them to deal with your issues and told Temmin in no uncertain terms to keep the situation from Poe. He had been going out of his way in previous weeks to be kind to you. His continued (and entirely unnecessary) attempts to make up for everything that had happened, both on the mission and before. Having him do another favour for you when you had yet to figure out how to give back to Poe, didn’t sit right with you.
So you snuck out of the back of the dining hall and hoped you’d bought yourself more time to figure your shit out.
Earlier that morning
His curls were softer than you’d remembered, you loved sinking your hands into them and gripping. Your head felt so heavy that you felt yourself drop it into his neck, your heart swelling at how right it felt to nuzzle into Poe as he held you.
Fuck, it felt so good to straddle him this way, not just for how close your bodies were, how easily you could kiss him, but because his thick, long cock hit the best spots inside you at this angle. It was bliss, delicious, something you should have been doing for years. You rolled your hips as you came, crying out when he slammed you onto him and held you there as he came undone as well, feeling close to passing out when he cried out for you.
“Sweetheart, oh fuck, (y/n)!”
“FUCK!”
You gasped as you woke from your dream, trying to sit up even as your body continued to convulse from your orgasm and small moans tore from you. You gripped the sheets, panting as you floated down from your high, again. Another dream, the same memory replayed over and over every night until you eventually woke up like this, shaking and sweating and cumming.
You sobbed, sitting forward and drawing your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself as you dropped your head. This needed to stop and you didn’t understand why it wouldn’t. It had started up the first night you were back on D’Qar, always the same; the memory of those finals moments wrapped around Poe, the last orgasms you each had as the pollen had worn off, and then you’d wake up as you came. You’d tried masturbating before bed just to try and curb the need, but that hadn’t helped in the least. You were desperate now, confused and exhausted from waking up day after day filled with an intense need for something you shouldn’t want.
A good part of you thought your sleeping brain was just cruel, taunting you for what had occurred. But the logical side of your brain noted that it could very well be an aftereffect of the exposure to the pollen, perhaps the last dregs of it working its way from your system when you were most vulnerable. But since you hadn’t reported the exposure, there was no way to find out. It wasn’t like you were going to ask Poe if he was experiencing anything similar-either response he could give was equally as mortifying just to imagine.
Kicking your sheets away, you glanced at your clock and noted the early hour before stalking angrily into your fresher to take a shower. A cold one, because despite the daily orgasms you were waking up from, you were constantly on edge, hornier than you’d been in a long time.
It didn’t help that you were a touch-starved, lonely and unattached woman. Aside from what had happened with Poe on the mission, you hadn’t had sex in a long time and even the last few times you did, it wasn’t anything spectacular. Which was why you’d been almost ready to let Rush take you to bed before, just to feel something pleasurable.
And now...now you wanted to run away from all pleasure.
+
Poe watched as you hurried out of the room, your shoulders stiff and he frowned when you glanced hastily toward the other doorway before slipping out of view. He looked at Temmin, who was giving him a knowing, guilty kind of smile from across the table. “What the hell was that about?”
Temmin considered his words for a long moment, rapping his knuckles on the table. Finally, he said, “Major hasn’t told you?” As if hoping Poe might suddenly realize what was going on with you and let him off the hook. At the same time, his friend appeared unsurprised of the direction the conversation had gone since your odd departure.
Raising a brow at his friend, Poe leaned forward. “No,” He replied slowly, shaking his head, “Told me what?”
“Let me preface this by telling you she asked me not to make you aware of the situation. Healer Derrin has been cornering her around base every day since you’ve been back, trying to convince her to give him another chance,” Temmin paused as Poe shifted from curious to downright outraged, “Don’t look at me like that, I just found out myself like two days ago.”
“But-I-” Poe stammered, half rising from his seat, “What the fuck has he been doing?”
Temmin waved a hand in a calming manner, “Popping up all over, trying to catch her for a conversation. Only reason I found out was that he came into the hangar the other day and she practically climbed on my back hiding behind me from him.”
Beside himself with fury, Poe took several deep breaths to relax. “Fuck,” He growled, running his hands over his face.
A distant part of his mind wondered why he was so physically worked up, ready to seek out the Healer and lay into him. When he glanced up, Temmin was casting an obvious glance to the time and Poe relented, releasing his anger to focus on the task at hand. “Sorry, thank you for telling me. Let’s go.”
With a curt nod, Temmin jumped to his feet and fell into step with Poe as they made their way to the hangar. It didn’t go unnoticed by Poe that his friend cast a wary eye around, no doubt concerned they would run into Rush and he would be required to break up a fight.
Quietly sighing to himself, Poe rationalized that he could focus on patrol, then return to base and seek out Rush for a civil conversation, nothing more. Flying would calm him, help him to clear his head, and despite your request to keep Poe out of it, he wasn’t about to let you down by allowing some dick head to harass you.
-
Patrolling the Resistance base was a duty that fell upon every squadron, regardless of status. Poe knew he could probably convince Leia to let Black team off the hook, considering the number of high-status, incredibly dangerous missions she entrusted them with, however he felt it was good for his team to pull their weight when it came to the less exciting tasks.
It was also a good opportunity for some team building, as you all kept your comms open to have idle chit-chat throughout the shift. “Listen, Poe, Tommy was a lot taller than you. You know it, I know it, hell Temmin knows it! He knew Tommy!” You were giggling now, which was the only reason why Poe had continued to argue that Tommy wasn’t all that much taller than him.
“She’s right, Commander.” Temmin supplied with a chuckle.
Kare’s voice joined in, “I’ve never met this Tommy but he sure sounds a lot taller. Did you date him, Major?”
At the question, Poe felt himself stiffen slightly, suddenly extremely curious to hear your response. You didn’t hesitate, “Oh, maker, no. Never.”
“Wow,” Poe chirped with a laugh, “I’m kind offended for Tommy with how passionately you just said that!”
You laughed, “Tommy wasn’t my type, Kare. We were just friends.”
“But he did ask you out,” Temmin suddenly supplied, unknowingly causing Poe to frown. Tommy had asked you out...when? It can’t have been during Gold team days, because then he’d know about it, if not from you then certainly from Charlie, who was close with Tommy. Which meant that you had seen Tommy at some point after you left and spent enough time with him for the handsome pilot to ask you out. Jealously silenced Poe and he opted to listen only.
“Oh,” You sounded surprised that Temmin knew about it, “Yes, well we were stationed together for a while at an outpost a few years ago.” Though your voice had tightened somewhat, Temmin had apparently not picked up on it and continued speaking, teasing you.
“Huh well, Major, from what I heard via our mutual friend Rico, you two had a 'friends with benefits' thing going on during that assignment.”
You laughed in embarrassment, “Fuck off, Temmin.”
Realizing that his silence was both telling and uncalled for, Poe decided to join back in. “What, sweetheart, embarrassed to admit you liked his man-bun?” He joked, happily drawing further laughs from you and the rest of Black team. Inwardly, however, Poe was spinning and he tuned out of the remainder of the conversation as he fell into deep thought.
It was incredibly wonderful having you back. Despite everything that happened during the mission, the resulting change between Poe and you had exponentially increased his overall happiness. It felt, in some ways, like old times. The void that was Charlie was there, ever-present but not always overwhelming, sometimes it was just a hum of grief in the background as you walked next to Poe, your shoulder occasionally brushing his arm, or when you laughed fully and your eyes crinkled the same way Charlie’s had.
And stars, you were funny-Poe had always thought you had a great sense of humour, but the past few years had given you a slightly harsher perspective, something that most Resistance fighters developed in time. It meant your wit was a little drier, your sarcasm in great abundance. He’d laughed more these past few weeks than he had in years, something that didn’t escape Temmin’s notice, his friend often shooting him a knowing wink when you weren’t looking.
Professionally, not a whole lot had changed, though conversation and directives were less chopped, he was proud to know that despite the tension and anger that had been between you before the mission, you had both worked immensely well together.
He had been terrified that you would leave again, despite your assurances on the contrary. He wouldn’t even have blamed you if you had; he remembered everything that happened, the way he’d touched you, the dark bruises and marks he’d littered across your soft skin, and the things he said. The harsh, cruel words still twisted in the back of his mind, surging to the forefront at random to taunt him, force him to relive the way he’d demeaned you. But you hadn’t left, in fact, Poe was pretty certain that the first few days back you had barely left his side just to prove to him that you wouldn’t, and he was grateful for that more than he could tell you.
He was grateful to have you back, to banter and tease, to see your smile brighten the room every day, usually because of something he had said. His old feelings were stirring, never really having faded altogether, but he was eager to push them down again and focus on the friendship. He needed to reign in his jealousy over something that had happened years ago between you and Tommy.
There was no reason good enough to admit how he had felt before Charlie died, and certainly, nothing in the galaxy could convince him to confess to you how he was starting to feel now.
It was better, he thought, to just be friends. Safer.
Earlier that morning
Your skin was soft, delightfully silky and smooth under his rough fingers, and he enjoyed gripping you harder, pulling your hips to his as he filled you, over and over. Your warm body pressed against his as you straddled his lap, your moans weak and head lolling from the pleasure.
The feel of your head falling to his neck, your body curling into him as your orgasm hit.
“Oh Poe, don’t stop!” The way you said his name. How you clenched around him, pulling him to his own peak. The feeling that was coming inside of you, bliss and rightness of the action intensely overwhelming as you shivered in his arms.
With a start, Poe woke up, his dream-induced orgasm ripping from him. He was unable to do more than groan in pleasure, his hips rutting against the mattress as his cum spurted, hands gripping his pillow. Biting his lip, the shame washed over him before he’d fully finished cumming, his groan morphing into a pitiful sound of desperation.
Every fucking day he woke up much the same, his dream-memories of those final moments under the grip of the pollen replaying over and over until he woke up mid-orgasm. He hadn’t had wet dreams since he hit puberty, for Maker’s sake. He thought it must be an aftereffect of the pollen, further proof the intensity and potency of the red flower was beyond anything he’d ever heard of.
Grunting in frustration, Poe climbed out of bed and retrieved a towel to clean up his mess. Turning on the shower, he glanced at the time, happy that he had enough time to rinse off before meeting you for what was becoming a routine morning caf.
He kept the water cold, punishing himself for his dreams and wishing like hell he could erase the images of you, so beautiful and soft around him, from his mind.
+
It was ideal that the man essentially stalking you was a Healer because it meant that he was relatively easy to track down on base. Healers had long shifts in the med-bay and usually didn’t stray far from base in case something major happened that required additional medical support. Poe was walking to the med bay now, leaving you with Temmin and your funny friend Ana back in the dining hall, to confront Rush.
He’d come up with a simple excuse to step away, stating he required a few essentials from the commissary and wanting to get there before they closed. You were eating slowly tonight and he had taken advantage of that and Ana’s rare presence-something that would keep you in the dining hall much longer, conversation flowing, so that he could slip off to the med-bay.
He’d felt your eyes watching him as he excused himself, burning into the back of his neck as he tried to walk as casually as possible out of the room. As soon as he was clear, he sped up in case you decided to follow him, but a glance over his shoulder before he turned the corner a few minutes later proved he was right that you would linger with Ana instead.
As he walked along the halls, nodding and smiling at anyone he passed, Poe attempted to steady and control his emotions. He would ask Rush to leave you be; be nice but incredibly firm. Advise the healer that it was in his own best interest to keep things professional unless you did indicate you were interested. As he argued with himself on the best way to word the request, Charlie’s image floated around in his head, reminding him that if he was still alive and some dick head was bothering you, he would be the one to calmly protect you. Poe was the less than calm protector, but he needed to channel your brother here because he hoped to prevent you from finding out he’d cornered Rush.
As he approached the final stretch of the hallway that led into the med-bay, a nurse just coming off duty came walking along in the opposite direction. Poe recognized the older woman, brightening when she glanced up and saw him. “Evening, Rosie, how are you?” He flashed her his best grin.
With an affectionate roll of her eyes, Rosie calm to a halt in front of Poe, “Good evening Commander, what brings you to our neck of the woods? You don’t look injured unless your big head is giving you a headache.”
This was why Poe liked her, she was the type to catch on to bullshit and funny as hell. He couldn’t help his bark of a laugh, “No, I’ve gotten pretty good at lugging it around,” He replied, “Listen, can I ask you a quick question before you head off for a night of dancing with a lucky guy?”
“Lucky lady,” She corrected with a wink, and Poe smiled apologetically with a nod, “And go ahead, what’s up?”
“Right, my mistake, although now that I think of it I don’t think any of us men could survive your charms,” He joked, pulling a laugh from the deadpan nurse, “I’m looking for Healer Derrin, do you happen to know where I could find him?”
Something close to a knowing look flashed in her eyes then, but Rosie didn’t comment. “His shift just ended, actually. He left for the hangar roughly, oh, ten minutes ago.” She glanced at her wrist comm for the time, nodding to herself at her estimation.
Poe frowned, realizing that it was routine for you to have left dinner already to go to the hangar to input your mission report for the day and perform your check of his and your own ships. Because you were dining with Ana, however, you hadn’t left yet. “Thank you, Rosie.” He gently clasped her shoulder as she smiled at him with that look still in her eyes, but she merely bid him farewell before he spun around a hurried away, taking the quickest route to the hangar.
When he arrived, the hangar was fairly quiet, only a few lingering mechanics wandering about, several service droids cleaning the large space and performing nighttime checks. Still wearing his medical clothing, Rush was easy to spot as he stood near your ship across the room, eyes staring off at nothing as he waited to see if you’d turn up.
When he heard Poe’s footsteps approaching, he turned with a hopeful look before spotting him and shifting to a placating smile. “Evening, Commander!”
Poe stopped a few feet short Rush and tried his best to return the smile, “Healer,” His voice was clipped, and he took a careful breath in an attempt to keep calm and channel Charlie. Friendly, to the point, no need to get worked up. “What brings you here so late?”
Rush shrugged, “Hoping to catch the little bird that keeps flying off,” He admitted, gesturing at your ship, “Can’t seem to get any face-to-face time with her, but I’m hoping to clear things up and start fresh. Think I moved too quickly before.”
Poe plastered his face with a neutral expression as his insides burned upon hearing Rush refer to you as ‘little bird’. “Listen, man, I’ve known (y/n) my whole life and I don’t think she’s interested, I mean, it’s been weeks since your date and she’s been avoiding you since.” Poe kept his voice as steady as possible, not wanting his tone to convey anything other than mild interest.
Rush bristled immediately, however, “That your objective opinion, Dameron?”
His voice was pointedly not steady and his tone was anything but mild. Still, Poe held up his hands in a placating gesture, “It is, and it’s kind of...uh, obvious, I guess.”
Poe watched as Rush took a measured step closer to him, though this didn’t serve to intimidate as the Healer stood an easy couple of inches shorter than him. ��You’re full of shit. You’re telling me this because you want to fuck her,” He glared up at Poe, who was frowning as he fought his internal battle to remain calm. “Actually, noticed you two are buddy-buddy all of a sudden; so that’s it, isn’t it? You went off together for nearly two weeks and she spread her pretty legs for you-“
Well, no one could say Poe didn’t try. His fist was connecting with Rush’s smug face before the Healer could continue his vulgar accusation, falling back a few steps before regaining his balance and shooting a glare that did nothing to intimidate Poe.
Forcing himself not to move in for another punch, Poe pointed his finger at Rush, “Shut the fuck up, asshole. I never want to hear you talk about her that way again, got it?”
Rush scoffed, his hand rubbing along his reddening jaw, “You’re only proving me right, reacting like that. Either you want her so you’re trying to prevent me from having a chance, or you already had her,” The Healer was seething mad, clearly not thinking straight. He didn’t seem to see the tension rolling over Poe’s body, anger coiling within and ready to burst forth in more than just a single punch. Or maybe a handsome guy like Rush Derrin couldn’t stand the idea of having a competitor, as he seemed to view Poe, and it clouded his usual ‘nice guy’ personality entirely, made him mean, made him say things that he really, really shouldn’t. “Tell me, what is she like when you’re balls deep-does she moan as loud as I-“
This time, Poe didn’t hold his anger back into a single punch, he opted instead to launch himself at Rush, whose eyes flashed in fear just before he was taken to the ground. Fistfights weren’t something that Poe usually got himself into anymore, though he’d had more than his share growing up. He held himself to higher standards now, especially considering his high rank within the Resistance, the respect he had from his fellow fighters.
All of that was out the window though as he wrestled on the hangar floor with Rush, who gave a yell of anger as he tried to out fist Poe. He was strong, a decent enough match physically despite being shorter than Poe, who twisted his hips to roll Rush in a flurry of movement, eager not to end up bested by being pinned under the man. He did feel the punches he gained in return, particularly a stinging blow to his cheek that seemed to hit directly on the apple, skin splitting on contact. Rush was wasting energy on cursing and yelling insults, most of which didn’t register with Poe as blood rushed loudly in his ears, rage only intensifying.
It was only a few moments of fighting at this point, not long enough for anyone who had been on the other side of the hangar to have made it over already to break them up. This was why Poe stiffened in complete surprise when he saw a figure approaching quickly in his peripheral vision, which distracted him just enough for Rush to take advantage and roll heavily, slamming Poe into the floor. He felt his head hit the concrete, though it wasn’t too hard of a blow it was disorienting. Before he could even begin to attempt to get Rush off of him, however, the figure that had first distracted him now came directly into view over Poe.
It was you.
But you weren’t yelling for them to stop like he would have imagined you would do. Instead, from his vantage on the ground, Poe witnessed your fury first hand, so much more intense than he’d seen in years. But the night of Charlie’s funeral that fury had been lined with grief and heartbreak. Now, you looked shockingly terrifying as you swiftly launched yourself at Rush, tackling him off of Poe in one motion before rolling with ease and jumping back to your feet.
When you pointed your blaster down at the Healer, who lay flat on his back in complete shock, even Poe flinched at the look on your face.
“Don’t you fucking touch him,” You hissed, your voice cold and low. There were a few people nearby, all who’d frozen upon seeing the Major asserting her authority over the lower level Healer. Though he partially flushed with pride and equal parts surprise, Poe was quick to scramble to his feet and hurry to your side. “I forbid you to enter this hangar again unless it’s for medical purposes, got it?”
Poe could see that your finger wasn’t on the trigger of your blaster, the safety clicked on still. All the same, your reaction was completely out of character and he wanted to stop that cold, harsh look on your face in its tracks, even if it wasn’t directed at him.
“Sweetheart,” He murmured, quiet enough that only Rush could discern his words, “Let’s take a walk, let Healer Derrin go and lick his wounds.”
The moment you dropped the blaster, Rush was on his feet and hurrying out of the hangar, blissfully silent, entirely amusing. Poe glanced around to the others nearby and gave a friendly nod of release, and they broke away to finish their work. Placing a hand carefully on your lower back, he put a slight pressure and started to walk, relieved when you complied and holstered your blaster.
Though he’d suggested the walk, you seemed to take control of the direction and somehow Poe found himself stepping through the door of your room minutes later. He barely had a moment to glance around at the minimally decorated space, his eyes again finding your pinned copy of his favourite photo on the corkboard, before you rounded on him.
You weren’t as furious as you had been before, but he still took a measured step away from under the heat of your gaze, flinching as he waited for you to begin yelling at him for interfering in your life, for embarrassing you, bracing himself for your wrath.
Instead, your angry gaze met his own and you faltered, your eyes flicking over his face and Poe watched the anger melt away, your expression softening into concern. “Oh, Poe,” You sighed, closing the distance between you both to reach up and carefully grab his jaw with one hand, turning his head to peer up at the cheek he’d taken the worst punch to, “Are you alright?”
You dropped your hand, not completely as he would have expected but to rest on his chest, just over his heart. Poe felt himself stiffen again, the casual way you touched him driving him almost into a frenzy of confusion and hope and fear.
“I’m fine, I can take a punch,” He grinned, cringing when his cheek stung from the movement. “Might need to pop a bacta-patch over this, though.” He reached up and carefully prodded the split skin, hissing at the pain.
You stepped away, tugging Poe by the arm, “Sit,” You ordered, pushing him toward your bed. He perched himself on the edge and watched as you went to the med-kit you kept in your fresher to pull out bacta-patches. “I knew you weren’t going to the commissary.” You added when you walked back toward Poe, grabbing your desk chair and setting it in front of him before taking a seat.
“In my defence, I was being nice at first,” Poe said as you wiped away the blood on his face before gently placing the patch, your eyes focused on your work. “He uh, turned out to be a bit more hot-headed than I’d have thought.”
You snorted, “I came in too late to know who hit who first, but you don’t need to defend yourself,” Picking up another wipe, you cleaned around the patch and some spots along the rest of his face that must have had blood splatter. “I made Temmin tell me if he told you about Rush. I know you were fighting with him because of me. And that’s...that’s why I hadn't mentioned it, actually.”
Poe stared at you for a beat, “What do you mean?”
“I just,” You sighed, your eyes searching his face before you tossed the wipe in the trash and you sat back in your seat. He already missed the feel of your hands on his skin. “I knew you would want to talk to him, and that could lead to a fistfight or whatever on my behalf, and I didn’t want you to put yourself in that position just for me.”
“Just for you?” Poe repeated in surprise, leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees, to look at you closely, “Sweetheart, come on, you know I’d do anything for you.”
You nodded, but Poe wondered if you understood how serious he was, how he wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t question. Or maybe you did understand and that was why you looked slightly afraid, your face flushed as Poe gazed at you intently.
“Poe, you’ve been going out of your way for me since we’ve been back. You know it’s all...we’re good, I trust you,” You leaned forward, your face mere inches from Poe’s, and took his hands into yours, “So you don’t need to keep proving yourself, I promise.”
Poe felt himself nodding as he looked at you, gazed into your bright eyes and saw the sincerity in them, the emotion. He was still, afraid to move now that there was nothing between either of you, fully aware that you were alone together in a locked room and nothing could interrupt you. He felt himself blush, heat crawling up his neck, and Poe wanted to lean away and clear his throat and push back everything he was feeling but you were making it too difficult, sitting there with wide eyes and plump lips and a look so earnest, so trusting that he was transported straight back to the first time he’d wanted to kiss you.
But the thing was, he was a skinny teenager back then, and it had been easy to talk himself back and resist the urge because of Charlie. Because he didn’t want to offend you. Because your mom was just down the hall and could walk in at any moment.
But here, Poe wasn’t a teenager anymore, and for that matter neither were you. No, you were both fully grown adults, a fact he was keenly aware of as his eyes moved from yours, slowly, and he saw the way your lips were parted, the flush up your neck, the way your chest was heaving slightly.
He’d never wanted to be braver in his entire life.
Just as he thought of closing the gap, though, an image surfaced. The memory of you, trembling on the table after the pollen had worn off, just before he could give you the bacta shot, your body littered with marks he’d put there, the marks that were in the nightmares he kept having. Bile rose in his throat and he was sure you sensed the shift then because you were pulling away even before Poe broke the connection of your gazes and eased his hands from your grasp.
It was quiet for a minute, each of you looking determinedly away from the other. You stood, and Poe glanced up, fearing you were going to ask him to leave. You had a thoughtful look on your face, however, and moved over to your dresser instead. He watched as you opened the lowest drawer, flipping through the contents.
“I realized the other day that you didn’t have any of Charlie’s clothing because of course, I’d taken it all,” You straightened, turning around with a small stack of shirts clutched in your hands, “But I shouldn’t have done that, so here, take these.” And you held the stack out to him, biting your lip as you did.
Poe’s heart stuttered in his chest and he had to blink a few times to clear the sting of tears threatening the corners of his eyes. “These were...Charlies’?” You nodded, your eyes swimming with similar emotion. He took them from you and looked down at the familiar, worn fabric in a variety of colours, each shirt soft and well cared for. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what to say.”
He stood up, gripping the clothes in one hand before carefully reaching out and wrapping his arm around your head, pulling you close and kissing your hair. You were stiff in his arms, but he felt you patting his mid-back. “You don’t have to say anything, flyboy.”
It was very rare that you found yourself in your current position, crouched outside of Poe Dameron’s window late at night, grateful that his father slept on the lower floor of their home because he found it cooler. And even though you knew Mr. Dameron wouldn’t be mad if he found you sneaking into his son’s room, because you and Poe were together most of the time anyway since forever, you didn’t want him to interrupt your attempt to apologize to your friend.
You carefully slid the window open, your eyes attempting to adjust to the darkened room within but there was no light this evening, even the stars were hidden by clouds that threatened rain you knew wouldn’t come for another day at least. You were gazing in the direction of where you knew his bed was, so when hands shot out to grab you from almost right in front of you, you couldn’t help the squeak you let out, still desperate to be quiet, before promptly falling backwards. You wondered if you were about to break your arm again, and it had only just healed the month before. Kriff.
Thankfully Poe had already grabbed your waist, his hands gripping tighter when you lost your balance before he pulled you through his window with a grunt, both of you tumbling down due to the force he’d used to ensure you didn’t fall. Landing clumsily on top of him with a thud, you both froze in the dark, listening for any sounds from downstairs.
You waited a few minutes, heart pounding in your ears, wishing you could at least see Poe’s face but it was too dark, you could only make out the faint outline of him. You could tell he was looking up at you, but that was about it. Feeling confident Mr. Dameron was still fast asleep, you shuffled off of Poe, only his hands were still gripping your waist, so you ended up kneeling right next to him.
“Poe?” You whispered, moving a hand down to pat the back of one of his, “I think we’re good-sorry, I wanted to-“
Poe’s angry sigh halted your words in their tracks, and you felt his fingers flex before he released you and moved away. After a pause, light from a small lamp bathed the room in a low, golden glow and your best friend came into view, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I heard your apology the first time, (y/n),” He hissed, and you hated the way he said your name, that he even said it at all when you were used to him only referring to you as ‘sweetheart’. “Breaking in to say it again doesn’t really-“
You had climbed to your feet, dusting off your knees before glaring up at Poe, “Fine, I won’t apologize again. But I’m not leaving until you talk to me, tell me how I can fix this.”
Poe ran a hand wearily over his face, not meeting your eyes. Guilt and shame and sadness were all that you felt these past several days as Poe actively avoided you, refused to even look at you, because of what you’d said. And you hadn’t meant it, you really didn’t, it just slipped out in a moment of heated disagreement and you wished you could eat the words back up before you’d fully finished speaking. The look he’d given you...
“I don’t know, I just need some time,” He grumbled, still not looking at you. You took a half step closer, hoping to draw his gaze. Disappointed when he only frowned harder and kept his eyes on the wall. “I know you’re sorry, but you still fucking said it.”
“And I have no excuse for it, Poe, I was out of line. I was angry and I wanted to just...”
“You wanted to hurt me.” He finished, and you were shaking your head violently because that wasn’t it, it really wasn’t.
“No, no that’s not why,” You breathed, tears threatening but you swallowed them back, blinking, “You’ve just been so weird lately, and you wouldn’t tell me why so I lost myself and wanted a...a reaction, something, from you.”
Poe’s eyes locked on yours then and you felt yourself shrink inward at the coldness within them, “You said my mother would be ashamed of me. Out loud, to my face. Because I wasn’t explaining why I’ve been moody-which by the way, if you thought about it you’d fucking realize why-so that was your solution?”
His voice had raised only a fraction, a whisper yell in the dim room, yet he might as well have been screaming at you. You deserved for him to rage and yell because you had said that. In a stupid, selfish moment, after weeks of odd behaviour from Poe and another fruitless attempt to ask him what was going on, you’d said his mother would be ashamed of him for shutting you out. You hated yourself for saying it.
You grappled with yourself, struggling to find words and Poe jumped on your silence to continue speaking. “I forget sometimes that you’re just a kid, a silly, spoiled little girl who gets her way all the time,” His words cut through the air like little knives, driving straight into your chest, “But in the real world, when you say mean shit like that you can’t always just bat your pretty lashes and say you’re sorry. Words have consequences, you fucking brat.”
You bristled, despite having known when you decided to come here tonight and beg for forgiveness that he might lash out, you weren’t prepared for Poe to talk down to you like this. Little girl. Spoiled. Brat. Was that really how he saw you?
Was he really going to leave to join the Resistance and you’d never see him again?
“Fuck you,” You gasped, pain lancing your heart as you glared up at your best friend, “You don’t talk to me like that, Poe Dameron. I said a shitty, horrible thing to you and I didn’t mean it and I’ve been trying to apologize, that doesn’t give you the right to speak to me like this. You’re calling me the kid when you-you’re acting like an angry little boy?”
Poe dropped his crossed arms, his mouth opening in fury as he stepped toward you, and you were ready for the fight, for the words to start flowing between you both as whatever the fuck was going on lately seemed to bubble up and over. But the dim lighting of the room left a lot of shadows and darkness, and his sudden movement toward you startled you. You couldn’t help it, you flinched, visibly and almost bone jarringly. You flinched away from Poe, one hand half raising in front of yourself defensively.
And the fight in Poe, that fire and passion, it was out in an instant. Like you had flipped a switch and all the power was sucked from the room. For a moment, he stood frozen in mid-motion, gaping at you as you straightened from your defensive stance, and you shook your head to organize your thoughts, wanting to just apologize again and leave. But he was looking at you so intensely now that you felt like you couldn’t move; like he’d pinned you with his horrified expression.
“Are you-?” His voice almost broke, and he didn’t try to clear it, merely lowered the pitch, “Are you scared of me?”
You wanted to shake your head, but your brain was still processing the shocked look he was giving you, the colour rising to his cheeks as emotion seemed to overwhelm him. Poe looked utterly wrecked at that moment, and even though you knew he needed to hear you speak, to assure him that of course, you weren’t scared of him, the sudden movement and looming shadow on the wall had simply caught you off guard, you couldn’t bring yourself to fucking speak.
“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m so sorry, please don’t be afraid,” He gasped out, holding up both hands slowly, palms facing you, “I would never-shit, sweet, beautiful girl, please don’t be afraid of me, please I’m sorry, I’m so so-“
You cut him off as he started to nearly sob, convinced you were scared of him, that you thought he might hurt you. “Poe, no, I’m not scared!” Regaining the use of your brain, you stumbled forward and threw yourself against Poe’s chest, gripping the soft tee he’d worn to bed, your face pressed over his heart. “I was just startled, I’m not scared of you, I could never be scared of you.”
You could hear his heart hammering away in his chest, feel how tense he was, his hands hovering in the air behind you. His voice was so quiet when he spoke that if you hadn’t had your head so close against him, you wouldn’t have heard.
“I would never hurt you, fuck, I wouldn’t try to intimidate you. I’m sorry I was going to stand closer so I-I could yell without waking dad up, so stupid...” The sob that had been threatening him tore out, crushing your heart a little.
He was ridiculous because you’d know him your whole life and you knew he wasn’t the type of man to physically harm or scare anyone. Sure, he’d been in his share of fistfights, but even you knew he was usually throwing a punch in response, and these last few months he’d been relatively cool-headed, a sign of his maturity.
You pressed your body closer to his before lifting your head to look up at him. Poe was still not touching you, and he was looking across the room unseeingly as he blinked back tears, his expression tense and upset. With slow movements, you reached up to stroke along his jaw, your hand pausing when you first touched him, your heart rate picking up a little when his eyes closed at your touch. You stroked more than the usual three times, repeating the action until his body relaxed against yours, continuing until his hands tentatively moved, one settling on your waist and the other raising to cup your face.
You stood like that for a long moment, your fingers still trailing the familiar path of his stubble, drinking in the way his expression, eyes still closed, softened for you.
“I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me, Poe,” You whispered, “That’s why I’m fucking wrecked that I hurt you. If you don’t want to see me anymore...I understand, I crossed the line like an idiot. Our friendship has always been the most important thing to me and I overstepped and I’m sorry, you’re right that I’m just a stupid little-“
“Stop,” Though it was low, whispered into the room, the command behind the word was enough to silence you and you gazed at Poe in surprise. He looked at you then, and you delighted at the expression he had, so filled with love and care. “I forgive you, I know you didn’t mean it. I saw your face right as you said it...we just, we both got too worked up. We keep doing that, I think because we know Charlie and I leave in less than a year.”
You nodded in agreement, the small movement making you suddenly very aware of how tightly pressed against Poe you were. He was still holding your face gently, but the hand on your waist was gripping you in a way the suggested he felt the proximity as well. You took a shuddering breath, “I love you, Poe. I’m sorry.”
He dropped his head to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering half shut, and the weirdest thought suddenly cropped up in your head. The most absurd notion that you could easily tilt your head and press your lips to his. You remained still, but couldn’t help but stare at his soft lips as he spoke.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” The hand on your waist clutched you closer, which you hadn't thought was possible, “And I promise I would never hurt you, never lay a finger on you or say something awful that I meant, never. Nothing could ever, ever make me hurt you, sweet, lovely girl.”
You closed your eyes, unable to trust yourself to resist kissing him when he spoke to you like that, his words coated in the deep, suddenly husky tone of voice. And you couldn’t rid those thoughts as he led you over to his bed and you cuddled against him, ready to sleep but your heart thrumming away as you imagined what it would be like to kiss him, your Poe.
What would it be like to be with him, to touch him, to-and you really blushed now, grateful he’d shut the light back off and his light snores were filling the room-feel him hard for you...you’d never been with a guy before, not like that. You’d had some steamy make-out sessions, groped and fondled with cute guys...but the idea of your Poe coming undone for you...
Well, that was suddenly an idea that you were completely unaware would have such an intense impact on you. You let the images play out in your mind for a moment before taking a deep breath and pushing them back and down, convincing yourself it was just a reaction to the adrenaline, the high emotions. Poe’s grip on you tightened in his sleep, and you snuggled closer to lay your head over his heart and listen to the steady beat.
Word travelled quickly around base that Rush Derrin had been beaten up by a pilot; the surprising thing was, at least to you, that the pilot in question was you and not Poe. Apparently, Poe scrapping on the floor with Rush wasn’t nearly as interesting or exciting as the story of how you’d tackled Rush, moved to your feet and drawn your blaster on him in one swift motion.
You had grown used to the quiet greetings over the months you’d been on D’Qar, and enjoyed the last few weeks of friendlier hello’s that cropped up in response to your rekindled friendship with Poe, but the tale of your no-nonsense, ego stripping attack on the rude Healer seemed to blast you into the same orbit Poe had been in as the ever-popular poster boy for the Resistance.
Everyone said hello, no matter where you went or the time of day. Ana sought you out the afternoon after to tell you that all the mechanics were raving about how they thought you were snobbish, and now realized you were, in fact, a silent badass. As embarrassing as it all was, it was nothing compared to Poe’s response to your new status.
He was insatiable, eagerly and proudly telling anyone who would listen-and it seemed everyone did want to listen-his first-hand account of watching you tackle Rush. Of how you’d coldly told him off as you followed your professional directive-protect your Commander, no matter the threat. Your shoulders were starting to ache from the number of times he’d clapped his hands over them, rooting you to the spot so that you couldn’t escape the latest admirers, gripping you because he really was proud, really meant everything he said.
“Okay, seriously,” You breathed when you finally broke free from a group of younger pilots, Poe laughing at your side in amusement at your reaction. “Commander, I may have protected you but I can just as easily go ahead and kick you in the-"
“Ah, come on now sweetheart, you wouldn’t do that,” He laughed, a playful arm dropping around your shoulder. Your insides had started reacting to every single touch, lingering or not, that Poe gave you. Which had been happening a lot lately. And it didn’t help matter that he’d look at you the night of his fight with Rush like you had told him you’d hung the moon just for him. You couldn’t shake the memory of the way he’d gazed at you as you sat frozen, inches away.
“Don’t be so sure,” You grumbled, allowing him to lead you to the hangar, “I now have to hope that if either of us gets seriously injured Rush isn’t the Healer on call, because I doubt he’d be much help now.” You noticed then that even though you were still passing people, and those people were smiling at you, no one had stopped you or spoken to either you or Poe.
Confused, you frowned up at Poe, intending to ask him, but the words died on your tongue.
No one was stopping you because they didn’t want to interrupt Commander Dameron and Major Horn, happily wrapped around each other, looking exactly like a love-struck couple. You were sure that a previous version of yourself, the one who existed years and years ago, would have quickly sprung out of Poe’s reach and laughed awkwardly, made an excuse to run to the fresher. Instead, a feeling grew inside of you that felt a lot like...
Possession. But that wasn’t right, was it?
Poe wasn’t yours, not like that. It was almost like there were two parts of you reacting to the increasing touches; the part that enjoyed the familiarity of his affection, and a part that starved for more and grew hungrier every time it was fed. It made it hard, impossible even, to sort through your real feelings for Poe. Because you did love him, you did feel yourself flush at the idea that others were viewing you as a couple, and yet...the path of your thoughts seemed to reroute itself constantly, focusing on the physical and craving more of it.
Maybe this was your problem before, you couldn’t admit to yourself how you felt toward Poe and it ended up being twisted up until Charlie died. You’d admitted to yourself that the biggest reason you’d fled was that you had realized, all those years ago, that you were in love with Poe. Was that what this was now? Old feelings slamming back home with startling intensity?
Then why could you only focus on his hands on you, if that was the case?
He’d noticed you’d gone quiet and came to a sudden halt in the empty hall, glancing down at you curiously, his eyes darker than normal. You felt his arm hold you a little tighter, the hand on your shoulder gripping almost too hard.
It felt really good.
Fuck, what the fuck.
“Sweetheart?” He searched your face, brows pinching in confusion.
Feeling a little dazed, you shook your head to clear your mind, keenly aware that there was no space between your bodies, that you could press up against him easily. And you were warm, actually. Really, really warm.
“Sorry,” You murmured, forcing yourself to give him a placating little grin, “Just...a little overwhelmed, I think.” You admitted, conceding a partial truth that you knew would suffice.
Instantly, his expression softened and he was backing up, pulling you with him until he was leaning against the wall. He spread his feet apart and pulled you to stand between them, his hands moving to cup your face gently as he looked down at you with kind eyes. You think you stopped breathing. You think he did too. He seemed surprised at his actions.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been teasing you for days,” He sighed after a pause, one thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek. You were going to combust or pass out, or maybe just evaporate on the spot. “Good news is, I’m pretty sure the General has another mission that’ll take us out of this parsec for a day or two. Should give everyone enough time to move on.” His other hand moved from your face to brush back a few stray hairs, his eyes following the movement hungrily. They were darker still.
There was a familiarity in that darkness.
“That-that’s uh, good,” You stammered, your eyes moving everywhere except to meet his. You were afraid of what he’d see if he looked directly at you. Of what you’d see...but you didn’t understand why you were afraid.
You just got Poe back, you weren’t fucking this up. Get it together, get it together, breathe...
“I know I don’t need to ask,” His voice was low, the timbre shooting straight to your core, “But are you okay to fly, because you seem a little out of it.” His voice sounded wrecked, like it was painful to be speaking.
You nodded hastily, pressing your hands into his abdomen for some unknown reason. You could feel the muscle under his shirt, hell you could remember what it felt like to touch those muscles, to drag your tongue along the surprisingly soft skin, before...before...
Oh fuck.
You think you realized what was happening a moment before it was too late to react, your brain opting to shut down as pleasure ripped through your body with a ferocity that knocked you clean over. With a shuddering moan, you collapsed into Poe as your orgasm rocked through you, unable to speak now as wave after wave turned you into a whimpering mess. He caught you, his face confused even as he unknowingly rutted his hips against you and started trembling.
“What-?” He got a good look at your face then and realization dawned, his expression twisting in horror. “Oh shit, shit,” He groaned, clutching you harder against him and you heard him breathe out your name, equal parts fear and desire colouring his tone before he sunk to his knees, bringing you down with him, and his body stilled.
His orgasm tore through him just as violently, the only thing he could think to do was nuzzle his head into your neck and hide his face as he came. You were limp, your body jerking and convulsing as the high never ended, it seemed to hold at its peak and just drag you along for the ride, unwillingly. In the very back of your mind, you recognized that what was happening was, undoubtedly, an aftereffect to the pollen you’d been exposed to weeks prior. The nightly dreams, subsequent orgasms, the way fire licked up your spine at every touch from Poe...it made sense, and if you weren’t currently trying to keep yourself and Poe quiet as you each came, you’d probably be feeling like a first-class idiot for not reporting the exposure.
“Fuck,” You whimpered pitifully, clinging to Poe for life. You felt another hand on your shoulder suddenly and registered a voice saying your name. It took a few moments to find enough clarity to look up, blinking through the haze to find Temmin standing over you both, his expression frantic with concern.
“Major, (y/n), tell me what’s happening, talk to me here!”
“T-Temmin...we, we were exposed on our, shit,” You had to pause as your orgasm seemed to notch up another level, dropping your head to hide your face against Poe’s. “Mission. Red fertility plant, help, oh maker please help!” You cried out, the burning and heat threatening to undo you completely, no longer overwhelmed with lust but now a high that seemed too far for humans, your heart hammering in your chest like it wanted to break out, run away from you and abandon your trembling body as you burned.
You slumped over, distantly aware of Temmin roaring for medics, but determined to bring your focus to Poe, who was now holding you too tightly. You realized he was speaking into your neck, and you had to tilt your head awkwardly to hear. Your vision was narrowing now, but you could hear him perfectly.
“I can’t hurt you again, don’t let me hurt her, please make it stop.” He repeated this plea over and over, and it was the only thing you could hear as your eyes began to close, as other hands were on you, pulling him away and you fought to keep him close until the heat became too much and a sudden stinging cool hit your arm and you were falling, down and into an unknown abyss, your last thoughts swirling in your head louder than any voice around you.
‘Don’t let me hurt him again, please don’t let me hurt Poe again...’
Temmin paced the med-bay waiting area frantically, waiting for an update from the Healers on both the Commander and Major’s statuses. He’d been leaving the hangar when he found them in the hallway, clinging to one another as they seemed to convulse with pain, and it had fucking terrified him. It had made some sense when you’d be able to gasp out an explanation that you’d each been exposed to a fertility plant during your mission. But he didn’t have any room to be embarrassed that you were both essentially having orgasms in front of him because you looked so scared and confused and Poe’s words were stuck in his brain now.
“Please don’t let me hurt her again, make it stop, I can’t hurt her, she’s everything to me, please make it stop...”
While he knew he was a less emotional sort of man, Temmin wasn’t an idiot. He knew that Poe and you were soulmates who’d been through some seriously dark shit. That you just needed to work through it all to find your way back to one another. And apparently, you had started the process-finally-during your classified mission. He had been overjoyed at the change in your interactions with one another, that you seemed to be friends again, at least.
But he’d also noticed the weird reactions you both had to some of his more inappropriate teasing, seen how you would both flush and change the subject and he thought at first that maybe you had started dating again, only something seemed off. You had become increasingly more wound up over the weeks, and Poe had appeared to turn inward more and more, as though his thoughts were so intense he was trying to conceal them with every fibre of his being from everyone.
You had only mentioned a suspicious plant in your reports from your mission. It had been with dawning horror, as he screamed for Healers, that Temmin understood you’d mentioned the flowers because you’d been exposed. That whatever had happened upon exposure had been so bad that neither you nor Poe wanted to include it in your reports.
“Captain?” A Healer came out from the back, a soothing expression on her face that told him you at least weren’t dead.
He hurried forward nonetheless, “Maker, Healer Brooks, please tell me they’re going to be alright!”
Did you enjoy this chapter? Consider leaving a comment or reblogging to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Thank you 🤍
@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @its-djarin @alex-sulli
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prettyboybarzal · 4 years ago
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lessons in romance // nate mackinnon x reader
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summary: nate mackinnon is really bad at keeping a steady girlfriend. so bad that’s become somewhat of a joke between him and the boys. but you come along and try to set him straight.
word count: 14k+
author’s note: it’s finally here. i’m honestly surprised at how fast i cranked this out... which is actually a LOT longer than most people write on here so mayb i shouldn’t brag lmao! this fic was inspired by THIS gifset. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE give me feedback/reblog!!!!!!
warnings: smut (i jumped out of my comfort zone people. i finally wrote some lmfao) & mentions of a past toxic ex
Weekends were better spent in bed or visiting family, not sitting in a crowded bar with men who reminded you slightly of your ex-boyfriend. You were probably overreacting a little bit because the guys truly meant well, but their overly boy-ish energy was startlingly similar to that of your ex. Maybe a few more drinks would help the cause and you could get passed the sex jokes.
Mel Landeskog was the reason you were there. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, much like her husband, and so you were sitting across the booth from some of the largest men you’d ever seen in your life. Gabe gave you the rundown of their names as they arrived though the only one you could remember was Cale. He was a perpetually blushing 21-year-old named after a vegetable; how could you forget him?
“Do you think Nate’s upset about this one?” Cale asked. The new topic of conversation was their friends’ disastrous date since he texted to tell them he was broken up with and was on his way to them. “They were sort of serious.”
“We’re about to find out,” Gabe announced, nodding towards the entrance of the bar. Nate was on his way to the booth, tired smile on his lips. As he got closer, he started shaking his head and the table erupted in chirps at his expense.
You recognized him from earlier at the Landeskog’s pregame. He was slipping out of the front door as you stepped in. His cologne was the type the good-looking guys always wear, and you weren’t disappointed when you looked up at him. He was handsome with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows and the top three buttons undone, and when he smiled, you all but swallowed your tongue.
He began to greet his teammates. The chain around his neck caught the light of the DJ booth and you found yourself gazing at it. You tore your eyes away from the gold at the sound of Mel’s voice introducing you.
“This is my girlfriend, YN, from my Saturday morning Cycle class,” she said. “And, YN, this is my husband’s boyfriend, Nate MacKinnon.”
He threw his head back in a laugh at Mel’s joke as he extended a hand to you. “Nice to meet you.”
You listened to the quips from his teammates, each one with their own opinion about Nate’s relationship or lack thereof. It seemed like this wasn’t the first time in recent months that he’d been broken up and it had become somewhat of a spectacle to the boys. Mel, who’d seen this song and dance one too many times, wrapped her fingers around your elbow and tugged you with her towards the bar.
“What was that about?”
“Nate can’t hold down a girlfriend,” she explained. “It’s been a joke since he first came here because they almost all have the same issue with him.”
“And what is that?”
“He’s not romantic enough.”
You glanced back over your shoulder and watched the boys laughing amongst each other. It looked like they were celebrating as they lifted their beers in a sad looking toast, and it hit you right where it hurt.
You really saw your ex-boyfriend in the group now and, though you tried not to make assumptions, you found it hard to set the first impression aside. The liquor in your system didn’t help. With each joke about his dating misadventures, you became less of a fan of him and by the end of the night you were bubbling over in annoyance.
Gabe and Mel offered Nate a ride home towards the end of the night and you managed to keep your expression neutral when he accepted. As they headed out to grab the car, you and Nate waited at the curb several feet away from each other.
“I’m sorry about your break up,” you offered after a moment of silence. The statement came out more like a question and Nate’s lips quirked up into a smirk at the inflection of your voice. “Sorry, I just can’t tell if you’re upset or not, so I don’t know if I should even offer my condolences.”
“I’m, uh, I’m not upset,” he began. “I saw it coming.”
“How so?”
“Let’s just say this isn’t the first time a girl’s broken up with me for not being romantic enough,” he said. Thoughts were filling your head faster than you could make sense of them. There was no reason for the situation to annoy you as much as it did. You didn’t know this guy and the odds that you ever saw him again were slim.
“So, if it’s not the first time, why hasn’t anything changed?”
“Excuse me?” he asked. There was a crease between his eyebrows. He hadn’t been expecting you to respond like that. You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t your business
“I mean, you act like a martyr when you probably would be successful in love if you just put in the romantic effort these girls are craving,” you said. Your anger had begun to boil over and words were spilling from your mouth faster than you could stop them. “Guys like you are the worst. You lead girls on and make them think they’re special. Next thing they know, they’ve been wasting time on you and your lack of effort.”
The comment made Nate take a step away from you. His eyebrows drew together in shock and confusion. As you spoke, he turned his body to you and crossed his arms over his chest. The moment you closed your mouth, he interjected. “You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t have to,” you argued, turning to him. You were in a stand-off with a man several inches taller than you, and to any passerby it probably looked a little bit funny, but you weren’t backing down. “I know guys like you. I’ve dated guys like you.”
Before Nate could continue arguing, the Landeskogs pulled up to the curb. Mel hollered out for you two and the topic of conversation was dropped.
---
You regretted everything you said to Nate the moment you woke up the morning after. It wasn’t like you to be so rude, especially not to someone you didn’t know. Your heart stopped every time Mel texted you in the days following. You thought that at any moment she’d confront you about what you said to him, but it never came. As the week carried on, you found yourself forgetting the harsh words spoken outside the bar and the worry stopped.
Until Thursday night.
The knock at your apartment door was unexpected. You met your roommate, Mara’s, narrowed eyes over the dirty dishes you were working on. By the look on both your faces, neither one of you had a guest on the way over. She turned on her heel to check the peephole and the next look she gave you was equally as confusing as the previous one. She still opened the door.
“Does YN live here?”
The voice sent shockwaves through your veins and you stopped your movements, plates held just above your head as you were about to slide them into the cabinet. Nate MacKinnon was at your apartment. Mara nodded at him slowly before stepping back to let him in.
“Hi,” he greeted. His hands were tucked into his sweatshirt pocket, legs clad in compression leggings and a pair of shorts. He looked like he’d just come from a workout and his hair was still wet from the shower he’d taken before coming over. “I hope you don’t mind. Gabe gave me your address.”
“No problem,” you told him through a shaky breath. “Come in. Come sit at the island.”
He removed his shoes and approached slowly, sending Mara one last smile as she crept off down the hall. You silently cursed her for leaving you with your shaking hands as you cleared the clutter from the countertop. You watched him as he settled into the stool across from you, mirroring the kind smile he was sharing with you.
“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? I have food, too, if you’re hungry.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. His voice was softer now than it had been before. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night. It won’t take long.”
“Oh?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your stomach dropped. You wanted to start apologizing right then. You didn’t have a reason to go and butt into his personal life like you had. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Guys like him didn’t care about your opinions. “I’m sorry for what I said. When I get drunk, I have the tendency to shoot off at the mouth.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said. Your mouth snapped shut. “No one keeps me in check. All the guys think the fact that I can’t keep a girlfriend is a big joke because I’m so bad at dating. It shouldn’t be a joke. So, I’m sorry and thank you.”
You dropped your hands to the counter and leaned against it. The last thing you expected was for Nate to thank you, so you needed a moment to gather your thoughts. His eyes glistened as he watched you and then the corner of his lip quirked up because you started giggling.
“You should not be thanking me,” you said. With that simple statement, the tension in the air lifted. You turned your back on him, indicating that if the conversation must go on, you were going to be doing the dishes as well. “I was just being bitter the other night.”
“You had every right to be,” he said. “I was gloating.”
“You were kind of gloating,” you mumbled. You hadn’t meant for Nate to hear, and he knew that, but he laughed anyway. You turned to face him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” he said. He didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point. It seemed like you’d apologize for taking up space and that made him feel a bit sad. He smiled politely at you anyway, to signal he wasn’t annoyed by the apologies, and it lit up his features in a way you hadn’t noticed the other night. “Anyway, I came here for a reason.”
“Okay.”
“I need you to teach me to be romantic.”
He delivered it tentatively, as though he was afraid of the way you might react. In the split second that followed, your mouth open and closed twice as every possible response came to your mind. He waited patiently.
Finally, “You don’t even know me. How can you be so sure that I’m the right person to teach you this stuff?”
“You’re a girl,” he explained, deadpan. “Girls know romance.” You snorted at how adorably dumb he was. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth in embarrassment and your cheeks burned as he grinned at you, amused by the sound of your laugh. “What do you say?”
---
Mondays were always your least favorite day of the week. Every weekend, your workload piled up and most Mondays you could hardly take a lunch break because you were so busy getting shit done. Whenever you came home from work on Mondays, you were wiped. Mara always made sure to have dinner ready for you when you got in, and the two of you often sat on the couch while eating those nights.
That Monday, you were sure that you’d be in bed before the Bachelor even started. But then Nate showed up unannounced. Mara was in the middle of washing the dishes this time, so you were the one to open the door. He greeted you with a goofy smile and a large electrical wire. Without a word, you stepped to the side and he was kicking off his shoes to enter the living room. Mara caught the roll of your eyes as you followed him.
He was standing beside the television when you entered the room. The wire he’d brought with him was connected to his cellphone while he found a port for the other end. You sat at the corner of sectional and waited, yawns escaping your mouth every minute or so. The day had been long enough already.
Suddenly, the television lit up with his cellphone background on full display. He held it up to show you, a grin present on his face.
“I need your help,” he began. He tapped one of the dating apps on his home screen and immediately you were regretting letting him in. You realized he wasn’t leaving any time soon as he unraveled the cord and plopped down beside you on the couch. Mara entered the room, eyes catching on the beautiful brunette woman on the screen, and then she gave Nate a curious look. “Come on, Mara. Join us.”
An amused smile came to her lips as she sat on the other end of the couch.
“I am not swiping for you,” you grunted, rubbing at your eyes. “I have no interest in judging girls off these apps.”
“Relax, YN,” he said. “I’m not asking you to play matchmaker. Just help me talk to this girl.”
“You need help talking to girls?” Mara asked as she gave him the once over. You laughed out loud while Nate blushed.
“I don’t need help,” he began. He turned his attention back to the television and pulled up the profile of a beautiful brunette woman. “I just don’t want to come on too strong, or douche-y. This girl is perfect and I wanna take her out.”
“Can you two make this quick?” Mara asked. “The Bachelor’s on tonight.”
“And my bed is calling my name.”
Nate peered at you over his shoulder. He smiled at your tired eyes, drooping as you leaned your head on your hand. He leaned back, stopping inches from your face and said, “I’ll make it quick.”
To your surprise, and Mara’s delight, he reached up and ran his hand over your hair before turning back to the television. He gave a rundown about the girl on the television, but his words went in one ear and out the other. Your glazed eyes watched as he typed out messages to her, and you laughed when Mara made fun of the way he was talking. (“Why the fuck are you talking like that? Are you her father?”) Finally, he turned on you.
“Are you gonna help or what, love doctor?”
“Give me the phone,” you said, extending your hand. He plopped it into your palm and watched you type out the message on the television screen. It took you less than a minute to type out a sweet message asking the girl out on a date before you were shoving the phone back into his hand. “You overthink too much.”
“That’s it?”
“Short and sweet,” you noted with a shrug. “I’d say yes.”
Nate’s eyes cut to you and you felt a chill run down your spine at the intensity behind them. Mara cleared her throat as you diverted your attention from him, shaking the feeling you got from his baby blues. She smiled sweetly at the two of you. “Can I detach your phone from our TV now? It’s almost time for Bach.”
You peeled yourself off the couch and headed to the bathroom to wash your face before changing into sweats and a t-shirt. You returned to the living room to find Nate with his feet up on the coffee table. Mara had tuned the television to ABC and the Bachelor recap was playing. He looked up as you entered and frowned.
“Stay out here a little bit longer,” he proposed, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “We’ll watch some of this and see if she says yes to the date.”
“Nate, I’m exhausted.”
“C’mon.”
You couldn’t say no, not when he was pouting like that. So, you rolled your eyes and walked around the couch to plop down in the spot you’d been before. Before long, your eyes were closing and you couldn’t keep them open any longer.
Nate didn’t realize you fell asleep, but he didn’t mind when you leaned against his arm as a pillow. He stiffened for a moment, unsure of what to do, but a soft snore escaped your lips and he found himself smiling down at your peaceful face. He didn’t move for the rest of the episode because he was too nervous to wake you. When the credits began to roll, he dropped a hand to your knee and shook you lightly.
Your eyes opened, bleary from sleep, and you found that you’d fallen asleep on him. You jerked away, realizing that it was probably too close for comfort, and smiled apologetically. He returned the smile before standing and gathering his things from the coffee table.
“Get some sleep,” he said on his way to the front door. You hummed in response, following him to the door to say a proper goodbye and lock up. He pulled you into a hug before going, shocking you once again by with how gentle he was despite hardly knowing you.
“Did she say yes?” you asked as he pulled away from the hug. “I almost forgot to ask.”
“Yeah, she did.”
---
Lesson #1: The First Date
In the chaos of the week that followed, you’d almost forgotten that you promised Nate your assistance before the date. You weren’t used to being accountable for someone else like you were now, so it wasn’t surprising.
“There is a man at reception asking for you.”
The office receptionist, Debby, was standing in the doorway with a giddy smile on her lips. You knew immediately from the look in her eye that the man at the front desk was going to be the talk of the office for a week.
You stood, following her out the door of your office and down the hall. As you rounded the corner to reception, you saw Nate leaning against the desk. He was sucking on a mint from the bowl in front of him and smiled wide when he saw you.
“What are you doing here?”
“I have my date tonight, remember?” he asked. One glance at your watch told you that you worked a little too late. You cursed under your breath, turning quickly to head back to the office and send one last email. Nate hesitated, but ultimately decided to follow you down the hallway. He eyed the pencil skirt you were wearing, eyes lingering a little too long on your ass. He shook his head from his trance, knowing damn well that he was just asking for trouble.
Nate lingered in the doorway of your office for a moment before his eyes landed on a picture frame across the room that caught his attention. It was a marble frame without a photo like it had been removed and never replaced. He picked the frame up and turned it over in his hands, then turned to you.
“You need a picture.”
“What?” you asked, eyes still trained on the screen. They flickered up to see what he was talking about and then got right back to work. “Used to be a picture of me and my ex. Nobody’s important enough to put in.”
Nate placed the frame down. He felt a pang of sadness for you in that moment, but distracted himself by moving onto the next shelf and playing with some of the desk games on it. He was in the middle of fiddling with your Rubiks cube when you stood from the computer.
“You’re wearing that?” you asked. Nate winced at the question, glancing down at the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing. When he looked back up, you were wearing a shit eating grin. “I’m fucking with you.”
“Jesus, YN.” He clutched his heart and released a deep breath. You rounded the desk and grabbed your jacket from the hook. As you swung it over your shoulders, Nate stepped up to help. You slipped your arms through the arm holes trying to suppress the flair up of butterflies in your stomach.
When you reached the sidewalk outside the building, you led him down the block to a florist. Their window displays were your favorite in the city and you often found yourself going out of the way to peak at them on shitty days. You daydreamed about the day someone bought you a bouquet from there specifically.
The bell above the door rang as you stepped in. The smell of fresh flowers hit your nose and you sniffed it in happily. You grinned back at Nate and he felt a tug at his heart at your excitement.
“Can I help you?”
You bounded over to the woman behind the counter, Nate following behind you a little awkwardly. You gave him an expectant look and then his brain finally caught up with the question. As he leaned forward to look at the flowers in the case in front of you, his hand pressed against the small of your back.
“What would you get?” he asked curiously. You took a sharp intake of breath at the lack of space between you and pulled away to look at the flowers.
“Sunflowers and baby’s breath are my favorites.”
Nate smiled at the woman behind the counter and repeated what you’d just said, adding, “It’s for a first date, so I don’t need it too big or anything.”
You laughed at his explanation, and then the blush that come to his cheeks when he realized how silly he sounded. Neither of you noticed the confused look on the florist’s face. She was about to comment on how cute the two of you were, and in hindsight she was glad she kept her mouth shut. He reached out and squeezed your arm as a warning to stop teasing him. You stepped away completely, still smiling stupidly as he turned to pay.
“I’d’ve put roses in there too,” you told him once you were back on the sidewalk. “But this is only a first date. It might’ve been a little intense.”
“Roses?” he asked. You hummed in response, plucking the flowers out of his hand as you continued in the direction of the restaurant he was meeting his date at. “Good to know, you know, for the future.”
The walk to the date spot was only about ten minutes long and most of it was spent talking about your plans for the weekend as opposed to his date. He was going to be away with the team and you had plans to visit family. You kept thinking to yourself that you needed to stop getting distracted by him and his good looks and his sweet disposition. He was dating someone, and that person was not and would not be you, but he kept surprising you with the way he weaseled himself into your life.
“We’ll have to hang out next week sometime, then,” he said, snatching the flowers back out of your hand playfully. You nodded, but you were taken by surprise. It didn’t make sense that he’d want to hang around you without getting something out of it, whether it was dating advice or something more. Clearly, Nate didn’t care and you were beginning to wonder if maybe you’d get a beautiful friendship out of this nonsense.
“Any last-minute advice?”
“Don’t say anything dumb,” you said to him, emboldened by the realization that you might actually be friends now. Nate laughed out loud. “You think I’m just being funny, but sometimes you say stupid shit.”
“Jeeze,” he muttered. “Way to fuck up my self-esteem right before a date.”
“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes and came to a stop just before the crosswalk he’d be using. He slowed to a stop as well, the bouquet of flowers falling to his side as he looked down at you. You reached out to right them with an amused smile. “Careful with these.”
“Got it, boss.”
You stalled a moment more, gazing at the flowers. You almost felt jealous of the girl going to dinner with Nate because those flowers would look perfect in a vase on your dining room table. “God, I really hope she appreciates those.”
The tone of your voice took Nate by surprise. It sounded a little sad, and full of yearning, and he felt kind of bad that he’d be walking away with the flowers you’d been admiring the entire walk from the florist. Even so, you said your goodbyes and he watched you turn on your heel to head home. He felt stuck in place, eyes trained on your retreating frame while his feet were cemented to the sidewalk. Before he could second guess himself, and his motives, he called out your name.
“Wait, YN!” When you turned, he was halfway down the sidewalk to you and, once he was within arm’s length, he plucked a sunflower from the bouquet and extended it. “For you.” Your cheeks felt red hot as your fingers curled around the stem. You hoped he couldn’t notice a blush. If he did, he didn’t make it known and left with a simple, “I’ll talk to you later.”
A stupid smile sat on your lips the entire way home. You felt the thumping of your heart long after you’d entered your place and placed the flower in the dining table vase. No matter what you found yourself doing that night, Nate remained at the back of your mind. You swore to yourself that it was because you wondered how his date was going, nothing more. But, when your eyes kept finding their way to the sunflower on the dining room table, you worried that maybe the reason you couldn’t stop thinking about him was something more.
---
You grabbed dinner with Mel the next Tuesday. Because of your trip to visit family, the two of you agreed to take a week off and reschedule some sort of get together for Tuesday. Gabe was home so he’d be with Linnea, and you were just happy that it wasn’t Monday. She was in the middle of a story when your phone lit up beside you; Nate’s name was on full display.
When’s our next lesson?
You snatched the phone off the table and away from Mel’s prying eyes, hoping that it wouldn’t peak her curiosity. The movement itself was enough to stir her, though, and Mel was soon leaning forward to see what was going on. She reached out and pushed the phone down, craning her neck to read the text.
“Next lesson?” she asked, eyebrow quirking. “Who is this?”
“It’s Nate MacKinnon.”
You said it so quickly and so nonchalant that Mel actually continued picking at her brunch before she reacted. Her fork clattered to the plate. “Did you just say Nate MacKinnon?”
“This,” you began gesturing at her wild eyes and wicked smile, “is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
“Why?” she asked, feigning innocence. “Because I’m totally going to take this and run with it?” You dropped your face in your hands. “You should go for it. He’s a little dumb, but mostly cute. You definitely have the patience to deal with him though.”
“Mel, it’s not like that at all,” you told her. “I’m helping him learn how to be more romantic.” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline in shock. “I’m serious. You know just as well as I do that he’s bad dating. He asked for my help after we met. I have enough experience with douchebags to tell him what not to do.”
“You sure do,” Mel agreed. You laughed at her response and an easy smile spread across her face. “Maybe teaching him a thing or two about how to be romantic will remind you of what you deserve.”
You sighed, picking up the coffee in front of you to take a sip. Mel knew better than anyone, besides Mara, how shitty the guys in your life had been. She met your ex last year just before your break up and she hated him from the moment you introduced the two. He never deserved you and her heart broke the longer you spent wasting your time on him. When you finally ended it, she was your biggest supporter.
You left the message unanswered, not wanting to give her anymore ammo in what was sure to be her new mission. When she got up to head to the bathroom before the check came, you opened the message from him. The last conversation was from Saturday night and he was letting you know that the girl he’d gone out with was looking forward to their next date.
What do you need help with now?
Do you know how to cook?
---
Lesson #2: A Homemade Meal
“I can’t believe you don’t know how to cook,” you grunted as soon as Nate pulled his apartment door open on Friday night. The grin on his face was anything but apologetic and you pushed past him with two large grocery bags in hand. You brought them to the kitchen and began unpacking them onto the counter.
“I do know how to cook, by the way,” he said, stepping up beside you to help you remove everything from the bags. You eyed him skeptically. “Mostly just the basic meats and vegetables.”
“You can’t cook a date your pregame meal.”
Nate knew that. He wasn’t that stupid, but he did love saying stupid shit around you. You tended to roll your eyes at him, but your lips always gave away how you really felt about his stupidity. The right side always curled up into a smirk, like you were trying to fight the laughter bubbling in your chest. He loved it when you did that.
“Is this, like, a meal your ex used to make?” he asked after grabbing some spices from the cabinet. You were grateful that his back was turned because the easy smile on your lips disappeared at the reminder of him. You busied yourself with the pot of water on the stove and set it to boil.
“No, my ex never actually made dinner for me,” you answered in a poor attempt to keep your voice steady.
Nate stopped prepping the meat and turned to face you. Questions sat on the tip of his tongue, begging for him to ask, but you wouldn’t look at him. He felt a little bit angry at your confession, though he couldn’t quite place why. Admittedly, he had been that boyfriend before – the one that didn’t cook dinner. Now, he was mad at himself for ever being that guy.
When you didn’t turn to look at him, he dropped the subject. You worked in silence, you busy with the pasta and him with the chicken. As you waited for the food to be ready, you hiked yourself up onto the counter. Nate grabbed a bottle of red wine from the end of the counter and poured glasses for the both of you.
He stood across from you with a dish towel over his shoulder and his own glass of wine in his palm. He asked about work and you filled him in on all the hot office gossip. The smile on his face didn’t fall once as he listened to your stories, and he never tried to change the subject or take over the conversation for himself. After a while, you stopped.
“I’ve been talking forever.”
“Yeah, and I’ve been enjoying it,” he told you. You laughed. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall in your office.”
Feeling a bit bolder, you kicked your foot out and nudged his side. “Maybe I can take you to bring your pet to work day.”
Nate’s jaw dropped, a reaction you weren’t expecting, and you began laughing hysterically at his surprise. He placed his wine glass down beside him and took a step closer, wrapping a hand around your ankle to tug you closer to the edge of the counter. You yelped in surprise.
“Pet?” he asked. You wiggled your foot out of his grasp, giggles falling from your lips as he dropped his hand to his side. The oven started beeping, interrupting whatever moment you were having before it could continue. “Saved by the bell.”
“Looks good, Nate,” you praised as he pulled it out of the oven. “My mouth is watering.”
“Go sit down,” he ordered. “You have to evaluate my presentation and make sure I look good.”
Nate entered shortly after you sat down and placed the plates on either side of the table with a smile. He slipped back out and returned with the wine. There was mischievous glint in his eyes as he topped your glass off and added to his.
“How is it?” he asked, leaning back. A look of cockiness flashed over his features and you felt it in your stomach when you looked at the way his arms were crossed and his biceps filled out the sleeves of his t-shirt. You picked up your utensils and cut into the meal, picking up a bit of each piece before putting it in your mouth.
Nate leaned forward eagerly. He watched your eyes light up when the flavor hit your tongue and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You nodded emphatically as you swallowed your first forkful. He cut into his own meal and the moment he took a bite, he moaned. The meal was so good that conversation was sparse and, by the end, it looked like your plates had been licked clean.
You didn’t stop Nate from filling your glasses again, though you figured you should have. The third glass always lowered your inhibitions.
“How pissed off would you be if I asked you about your ex?”
“Not pissed off,” you answered. You took a sip of the wine, then leaned your cheek in your palm as you spoke. “What do you want to know?”
Nate sat up at this, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t prepared himself with a question because he didn’t think you’d give him the go ahead. He let out a tuft of breath, took a sip from his glass, and thought. Finally, he asked, “Why’d you break up?”
“How long do you have?”
“As long as you need,” he answered. His voice was soft, comforting, and you felt yourself relax into the question.
“Honestly, I didn’t want to break up with him,” you began. “And, if I didn’t have friends like Mel and Mara, I might still be with him. Things have changed now, though. I realize what a crap human being he was but, if I stayed with him, I don’t think I would’ve realized how much better I deserved.”
“Did you fight a lot?”
“Do I seem like the fighting type?” you teased. He shook his head. “He did enough fighting for the both of us. He would yell at me for no reason sometimes, just because he felt like it.”
Nate was angry. His features were contorted in distaste as you told him about your ex. Even though you tried to make light of the situation with a few light-hearted jokes, Nate couldn’t find it within in him to react with laughter. You deserved so much better than what you’d been given.
“When I broke up with him, Mara was there. We packed my things and moved it all out. I was going to leave a note, but he came home from work early and caused a scene. He went out the night after and sent me all these videos and pictures of him out with his friends. They were flipping me off, girls were draped all over him, etcetera. I blocked him the next morning and I haven’t seen him since. That was over a year ago.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his head in his hands. He felt ashamed. “That’s why you yelled at me.”
“Yep,” you answered. “Emotions got the best of me.”
“I don’t blame you.”
Silence filled the room and you felt vulnerable. You didn’t share the story about your tumultuous relationship often, but with Nate it just slipped out. You grabbed your glass from the table and finished it off.
“I’m not staying for another,” you announced. Nate sat back, his face flashing with an offended expression. As you gathered the plates from the table, you tried to ignore the knots in your stomach that were becoming more and more prevalent when he was around. “Nothing good ever happens after the third glass. But, if I was your real date, I would definitely stay for a fourth and you would probably get to kiss me at the end of the night simply for how good that meal was.”
The words fell from your lips so easily that it shocked you and you hoped that the playful tone of your voice wouldn’t scare him off. You gathered yourself before turning back to look at him. He was still sitting at the table, chair pushed back with one arm over the back of it. The way he was looking at you was lethal, eyes drinking you in as you stood in his kitchen. You couldn’t tell if you were imagining the tension or it was real.
“Thank you for dinner,” you said finally. You grabbed your bag from the counter and pulled it over your shoulder as you headed for the door. Nate stood then to walk you out, pulling the door open as you slipped into your sneakers. “It was delicious.”
“Thank you for teaching me how to cook something actually good,” he said. “Poor girl would’ve been eating chicken and vegetables or pasta if you hadn’t come by.”
“Can’t let that happen, can we?” you asked. “Let me know how dinner goes.”
Nate leaned down, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you into a warm embrace. You melted into his arms as yours came up and around his neck. For a moment, the two of you just stood there in each other’s arms. You wondered if he could feel the beat of your chest again him. It sped up as his hands flattened against your back, crossing over each other to engulf you completely.
“I’m not that kind of guy,” he said. He leaned his cheek on the top of your head and his chest rumbled beneath your own cheek as he spoke. “You know that, right?”
Your blinked away tears before he couldn’t notice then and nodded in response to his question.
When he pulled back, he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek and his lips caught the corner of your mouth. An electric shock coursed through your bloodstream and you pulled back quick before offering one last smile and tossing a goodbye over your shoulder.
---
Nate called you the next Friday night with plans for Saturday.
“Mel and Gabe invited a bunch of the guys over and she told me I should see what you were doing tomorrow.” he said. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you much since last week. The guys would love to meet you.”
“Meet me?” you asked. “So, it’ll be more than just the ones I know?”
“A few more,” he answered with a laugh. “They’ll love you, okay? I’ll be at your place to get you at 5:30.”
It was the first time you were going to see him since you made dinner together last Friday. You exchanged a few texts throughout the week, but nothing of substance. You knew his dinner date went well, though you didn’t know to what extent. You found yourself wondering if she stayed for that additional glass of wine after dinner, or if she stayed for the night after.
He showed up to your apartment wearing a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. You welcomed him in while you went back to your room to get your heels on. He gaped at the dress you were wearing as soon as you had your back to him. His eyes wandered over your curves as you bent to grab your heels from the floor in your bedroom. When your dress slid up your thighs, he had to force himself to look away.
You tried to get more details about his dinner date out of him on the way to Mel’s, but he kept quiet. She liked dinner, she stayed for an extra glass of wine, and then she went home at the end of the night. An invisible weight lifted from your shoulders upon hearing she didn’t stay the night and you settled back into his passenger seat.
Nate noticed the way you relaxed into the seat and tore his eyes from the road for just a moment to sneak a peek at you. You were watching the world go by from the window, unaware that he was even looking at you. When he turned his attention back to the road, all he could think about was his sweaty palms and accelerated heartrate. Why did he care so much about what you thought?
Everyone was already at the house when you pulled up. The two of you walked up the driveway, his hand against your lower back much like it had been in the florist. Mel opened the door, lunging to sweep you into her arms and whisk you to the kitchen, her husband and your, well, Nate left behind.
“Thanks for having me, Mel.”
She handed you a drink complete with a salted rim and said, “I’m glad Nate asked if you could come.”
“Nate asked?” you repeated. She affirmed with a nod and ushered you to join the others in the living room while she and Gabe finished dinner.
You swore half the team was there, which meant not one seat was open on their couch. As you passed Nate, he grabbed your hand and sat you on the arm of his chair. He pulled your legs over his lap and began introducing you to the boys you didn’t already know.
You caught Cale’s eyes and felt heat rise to your cheeks. Out of everyone in the room, he was the only one making note of the lack of space between you two. Though you weren’t technically sitting in his lap, it still felt a little inappropriate. Nate’s hand was like fire where it rested against your thigh and you had to remind yourself to stop peeking at the placement.
Nate lied about your invitation to dinner, and for what? He could’ve just invited you himself instead of disguising it as a joint decision between him and Mel. What was he so afraid of that he couldn’t man up and admit he wanted you there? Better yet, why didn’t he ask Gianna?
You somehow ended up seated away from Nate at the dinner table. Cale settled in on one side of you and EJ occupied the other. Across from you sat JT and Tyson, bickering as always. You don’t know how you ended up separated from Nate, but you welcomed it because you needed the breathing room.
The meal was delicious, but Nate couldn’t even enjoy it because you were so far away. He was going to get fucking whiplash because of the way he kept looking back to see who you were talking to or hear what you were laughing at. How did he even end up this far down from you?
On the other hand, he couldn’t stop the smile that kept creeping up to his lips when he saw you with his teammates. They loved you, probably almost as much as he did, and he was proud to have you by his side that night. But then came the harsh reality that you weren’t actually his to show off.
When the party relocated, he made sure to slide up next to you on the way to the couch. EJ’s laughter mocked him, but you didn’t catch on to his teammate’s playful ribbing. With Gabe and Mel’s eyes in the room, he didn’t pull you over his lap and opted to lower his arm over the back of the couch instead. There were just inches between your skin and his but, after having you on his lap earlier, it felt like miles.
Drinking games were played, stories were shared, and you all left the house with full bellies and large smiles. Nate was driving, so he eased up on the drinks after dinner. You, on the other hand, were feeling just as free as you did after three glasses of wine at his place last week, and feeling daring enough to ask him the question that’s been on your mind all night.
“Why did you tell me that Mel asked you to invite me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“When you invited me, you said that Mel told you to,” you explained in a slow voice as if you were breaking the situation down to a child. “But she said that you asked if you could invite me.”
“Why does it matter where the invite actually came from?” he asked. A slight panic was rising in his chest because he didn’t have an answer for you. This wasn’t supposed to come back around to you. “Everybody wanted you here anyway.”
“Why didn’t you ask Gianna?” you asked, stepping down to join him on the path to the driveway. He rolled his eyes at this, and you noted it because though you’d done it to him many times, he’d never done it to you. He began walking, so you followed. “Are you going to answer my question?”
“Because I didn’t want to introduce her to everyone yet,” he answered. “You just fit in with us.”
Nate saw your face fall and decided not to push the conversation any farther. He said something wrong, but he didn’t know what. As far as he thought, he was complimenting you. He was complimenting how easy going you were, how his friends got along with you so easily. You were already a part of the group. It was great.
You continued along to the car in silence, not bothering to argue with him over a dumb comment. He wanted friends, so you were giving him friends, but the touches and the invite to team dinner was something more than friends. You needed distance. And he needed to figure his shit out, fast.
---
Lesson #3: Meeting the Friends
Something changed. When Nate dropped you off that night, he left you with a half-assed hug and a quiet goodbye. You couldn’t catch a wink of sleep that night because something changed. But then, Nate texted you tomorrow and tried to carry on as normal. Things weren’t normal.
And you knew that for sure when Nate didn’t invite you to EJ’s house the next weekend. Mel invited you instead and since you could never say no to Mel, you went. The thought of texting Nate to let him know passed briefly through your head, but the sheer fact that he hadn’t even bothered to talk to you about it in the first place was enough to decide against it.
When you entered EJ’s living room, you knew exactly why he hadn’t asked. Gianna was sitting on his lap, fingers curling through his hair as they talked. Anger rose in you no matter how hard you tried to suppress it. Just last week he said he didn’t want to bring her around and now she was here? Now she was here and he couldn’t even talk to you?
There was an uproar as Nate’s teammates noticed you standing in the doorway and Nate’s eyes cut to you in surprise. You lifted your hand in a pathetic wave before Cale was wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you to the kitchen.
“Who’s the girl with Nate?”
“His new girlfriend,” you answered, hoping that you didn’t sound bitter. “I don’t even know if that’s the right title for her, but they’ve been on a few dates.”
Cale let out a soft hum, his tone indecipherable, just as Tyson entered the room.
“What’s the deal with Nate’s new girl?” he asked as soon as he saw it was just you and Cale in the room. When you didn’t answer, he nudged you for an answer.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Well, she’s no you.”
---
Nate couldn’t help but ask himself, “What the fuck are you doing?”
As you were pulled into his teammates arms, he watched and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up and hug you too or if he just wanted to disappear. When Gianna’s fingers gripped his bicep, he decided he wanted the latter.
That’s when you looked at him, of course, and the smile that was on yours lips faded just a bit. At least, that’s what he thought. You lifted your hand in a wave before Cale was looping his arm around your shoulders and directing you towards the kitchen.
“Who was that?” Gianna asked, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.
He looked up at her with a simple answer. “One of our friends.”
Gianna kissed him and for the first time since he met you, Nate thought about what it would be like to kiss you instead. He brought her to EJ’s in a pathetic attempt to right the way he was feeling about you, but it only made it worse.
---
“Nate was weird last night,” Mel murmured after Cycle the next morning. You were waiting for her to say something. Since all the guys made comments the night before, you knew Mel was next. “Did you guys fight?”
“Fight? Me and Nate?” you repeated, stalling for time. “We didn’t fight.”
“What did you think of his girlfriend?”
“I actually didn’t get to talk to her,” you answered. You shrugged, giving the illusion that you didn’t care all that much even though you were fuming. After all the help you’d given him, he couldn’t be bothered to introduce you to her? And that wasn’t all. He hardly spoke to you all night, only entertaining conversations with you when someone else was around. You ended up spending most of the night with EJ.
“My sitter just bailed for tomorrow.” She’d been tapping away at her phone for a few minutes, no doubt panicking to Gabe. You watched her a moment longer as you wondered what her plans were for the next day. Then, it occurred to you.
“There’s a game tomorrow, right?” you asked. She nodded, still typing out messages to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “I can watch Linnea tomorrow. Don’t worry about finding a sitter.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” She waved you off absentmindedly and continued talking, “Besides, I thought Nate had a ticket for you or something. Didn’t he ask you to go?”
“Tomorrow?” you said incredulously. “No, absolutely not. Isn’t it like a WAG game? It would make no sense for me to be there.”
“Oh,” she murmured. “I just thought that he told Gabe,” she paused and noticed your set jaw. You were clearly not Nate’s biggest fan at the moment, so she decided to tread carefully. “You know what? Nevermind. I would love it if you could watch Linnea.”
---
As expected, Linnea was an angel the next day. You spent the time lounging in their living room with the game on TV while you played together. She took a bottle in the middle of the game and you brought her to her nursery once she’d been burped to rock her to sleep. But, you couldn’t quite peel yourself from the chair to put her in her crib. She was sleeping so peacefully and for the first time in a while you felt calm, so you stayed with her in your arms long after she’d fallen asleep.
You didn’t know what time it was when Gabe and Mel got home, but you heard their car doors close. You waited for them to happen upon you in the nursery, so you were surprised when it was Nate that knocked at the door.
“Hi,” he whispered, stepping into the room. He studied the decorations as he approached the rocking chair you were sitting in. When he stepped up beside you and admired Linnea, you tried not to look up at him. You knew it wouldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach, but you did it anyway. He was smiling down at the peanut in your arms. “Mel and Gabe are in the kitchen. They saw you on the baby monitor and told me to come get you.”
“Okay, I’ll put her down and meet you in there.”
“I can wait for you,” he said, stepping away. You stood, cradling Linnea to the crib and then craning to put her down in the center. Nate was watching you intently from the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face.
He stepped out into the hallway first, but he wasn’t walking towards the kitchen. He stood, waiting for you to stepped out into the hallway and look at him. You gave him a half-assed smile, still feeling a little hurt that things had been so weird between you two, and he asked, “Are we okay?”
“We’re fine,” you answered. He wasn’t convinced, but you reached up and shoved him lightly to get him to move down the hall. He didn’t budge, hand coming up to grasp yours against his chest. The beating of his heart sat right at your fingertips. “How was your game?”
“It was good,” he answered. “I wish you were there.”
“Well, then, you should’ve asked me to come,” you said, quite boldly. His lips parted, but whether it was to speak or not you wouldn’t know because you were continuing down the hallway without him.
You slipped into the kitchen to find Mel, leaving the men on the couch in the living room. The moment you stepped in, she was turning to greet you with a smile. You hissed, “Are you behind this?”
“I mentioned you were babysitting, his eyes lit up, and Gabe was the one to invite him over.”
“Team effort?”
She feigned an apologetic smile before ushering you out to rejoin the boys. Gabe got the fire going and Mel curled in his chest once he settled back on the couch. You sat on the other end, legs extended towards Nate in the corner. You felt his eyes whenever there was a suspended silence. You knew he was thinking about you, and selfishly you relished in the attention.
“YN, did you know that Nate’s parents were visiting next weekend?” Gabe asked during a lull in conversation. Nate glared at him, but the Swede happily ignored his buddy at the center of the couch. His eyes cut to you.
“I didn’t,” you answered. “But that’ll be fun. I know how much you missed them.”
All he could offer was a stupid ‘yeah’ before Mel swooped in to save the entire group from a very awkward moment.
Nate was going to kill Gabe. He was going to kill Gabe, but first he had to make a decision. He knew exactly what he had to do. It felt like you were a thousand miles away, not only physically but emotionally. Gabe should’ve kept his mouth shut. He was going to have you meet his parents, he just hadn’t gotten the chance to ask. Now, he looked like a dick. You couldn’t even look him in the eye.
“I was going to tell you about my parents,” he said, practically chasing you down the driveway after you ducked out while he was in the bathroom. To his surprise, you stopped walking and waited for him to catch up. “Seriously.”
“It’s getting hard to believe that, Nate,” you said. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head.”
Nate felt his heart sink. He began to rack his brain for a way to salvage the conversation, but it was too late by the time you reached your car. You stopped before opening the door to look up at him.
“You’re thinking too much.”
“I just—I know you’re upset with me,” he began. “I want to make it better. We haven’t really talked since EJ’s, and that’s on me.”
“Were you going to invite me today?” you asked. He gave you a curious look. “To the game. Mel mentioned something about it at Cycle. That you told Gabe you were thinking about giving your ticket to me.”
Nate ran his hand over his face. The Landeskogs had really gotten him into some trouble here, and he wasn’t sure it was accidental.
“You’re the one I wanted at the game,” he admitted. “I wanted to invite you, but I knew how bad it would look if I didn’t ask Gianna.”
“So, you invited her,” you concluded.
“No.”
You looked at him in shock, mouth agape, and asked, “You’d rather no one go than give the ticket to her?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” he grumbled. You threw your arms up in surrender, hoping the words would sink in. “I don’t know, YN.”
“Yes, you do,” you argued. He kept his mouth shut at that, knowing you had enough. You sighed heavily, allowing the conversation to roll off your back. “When are your parents going to be here?”
“Saturday morning.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“They’ll be at my game in the afternoon and then I was getting us a reservation for dinner,” he trailed off only momentarily. “I haven’t made it yet because I was going to invite you, but Gabe beat me to the punch in there.”
“What about Gianna?”
“YN, if I didn’t want her at my game, why would I want her to meet my parents?” he asked. He made it sound like you were asking the stupidest question in the world. But, he wasn’t answering the most important one. Was he breaking up with her? You wanted to ask, but part of you didn’t want the disappointment. He worried while you thought.
“I’m around on Saturday,” you answered. He smiled, and you forced one back. You hated the feeling between you two. The air between you had never been so stuffy and you wanted to clear it. “Anything else you wanna tell me before the Landeskogs do? Is Sid actually your long-distance girlfriend?”
Nate laughed loudly as he stepped away. He answered your question cryptically, “No, nothing to tell you right now. Not yet.”
---
Lesson #4: Meeting the Family
You planned to meet Nate at his apartment before dinner since his parents had gone to the hotel upon arrival. On the way, you picked up a box of pastries from your favorite bakery. You were taught to do little things for important people, and anyone who was important to Nate felt important to you. You tried not to think about the implications of having dinner with his parents, but it was hard to shake the nerves.
“What’s this?” he asked as soon as he opened the door. His finger slid over the logo on the top of the pastry box, eyes catching on the word bakery. When he looked up at you, his eyes were shining. “For me?”
“For your family,” you told him. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“I thought maybe you heard about my break up and you were trying to comfort me,” he said like it wasn’t breaking news. “I’ll put these in the kitchen.”
“You broke up?” you asked, following him to the kitchen. You stopped in the doorway as he put the pastries on the counter. He nodded simply as he cleared some clutter from the countertop. You could see his muscles moving beneath his navy polo. Guiltily, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring the way the sleeves hugged his biceps or the wide expanse of his back and shoulders. “What happened, Nate?”
“We can talk about it later, alright?”
“Are you single or not?” you asked. Nate caught the frustration in your tone and he’d be lying if it didn’t make him want to kiss you right then. You needed to know what was going on with him, and that made him feel good about whatever was going on between you two.
Nate started to exit the kitchen, but stopped in the doorway beside you. You were crowded against his chest as he smiled down at you and answered, “Yeah, I’m single.”
You released a breath once he stepped out of the doorway. He slipped his shoes on while you stood nearly the front door. He caught the look on your face, a little scrunched up as you spaced out. You were thinking too much, worrying about what happened with him and Gianna. When he walked back over to the front door, he took you by the hips and said, “We can talk about it later, if you want. Right now, I just want to be with you and my family.”
---
“I’m nervous,” you admitted as Nate pulled up to valet outside the restaurant. He looked at you in shock. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he promised. He reached over and dropped his hand to your thigh. You pouted at him, and his first instinct was to lean over the center console and kiss it off your lips. He knew better than to risk it all just before dinner, so he grabbed your hand and dropped a kiss to your palm instead. “You’ll be fine. No need to be nervous.”
A heavy sigh left your lips as he stepped out of the car. He rounded the front and opened the passenger door for you, grabbing your hand as you stepped out. After he handed his key to the valet, he laced his hands in yours and led you into the restaurant.
The MacKinnons were already at the table that had been reserved for them. There was uproar of cheers when they saw Nate walk in. You stole a peek at his face and the pure joy on it set your heart aflame. He dropped your hand as you approached the table to hug his parents and sister. They introduced themselves to you as well, sweeping you up in tight embraces like they had with Nate.
“It’s great to finally meet you,” they spoke as they hugged you.
Nate pulled your chair out from across his mother and then situated himself beside you. The menus were passed out and Nate whispered suggestions in your ear while his family members debated their own meals. She took the time to calm her nervous. Parents loved her, so there was no reason to freak out. Eventually the drinks were handed out, orders were taken, and the chaos at the table stopped.
“Now, how’d you two meet again?” his mom asked. You looked at each other, stupidly, both stammering in response until Nate got his shit together.
“We met through friends,” he answered simply. Then, his lips curled up and he said, “She yelled at me.” You dropped your face into your hands, embarrassed by the picture he was painting of you, but they took it in stride, laughing at your expression. “It wasn’t that bad.”
He continued, “As you guys know, I’ve been very unlucky in my personal life.” Sarah snorted at this. Their mother smacked her knee as a scolding. “I literally suck at being romantic and all the guys were joking around about it after I’d just been broken up with. YN called me out, so I asked her to teach me how to be romantic.”
“Well, what’d you learn?”
“How to cook a meal other than my pregame types, and I also have a new favorite florist,” he said. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and flipped it open to slip out their business card. You didn’t realize he grabbed one. “There are some other things, like her wine rule.”
“Wine rule?”
“Nothing good ever happens after the third glass of wine,” you explained. They laughed at that, though they seemed bewildered by your reasoning.
Nate elaborated, “It just means that if your date stays for a fourth glass, you’ll probably get lucky.”
This earned him a smack on the arm from both his sister and yourself.
Nate’s family was just as kind as he was and it was clear how much they all adored each other. You fit in seamlessly, at least that’s how it felt, and when they asked the waitress to take a picture of them, Nate tugged you into his side to keep you in the frame.
“Take one without me,” you urged him. He just shook his head, gazing down at the picture on his phone. He passed it off to his parents and sister for approval. “Nate.”
“I want you in the picture,” he whispered to you. His hand came up to the back of your neck and he pulled you in to place a chaste kiss to your temple. He pulled away, like kissing you in public and on the forehead was normal now, and asked, “How was your food?”
When you got back to his place after dinner, you presented his mother with the pastries and earned a hug and kiss on the cheek as a thank you. They settled into the kitchen as he made drinks, chatting as a family about the people back home and his life in Denver. You slipped out to go to the bathroom, and give them some alone time.
“I like her,” you overheard his mother say as soon as you slipped out of the kitchen. You slowed your steps on your pursuit to the bathroom even though you knew it would be best to keep walking. You couldn’t help but be a little nosy.
“That’s good to hear,” Nate said. You smiled to yourself. “I like her, too.”
---
Nate’s family only stayed for another hour before you were bidding them farewell from his front door. They squeezed you and thanked you for the pastries, and then began inviting you to visit before Nate had to shut it down. Your heart felt full after spending the night with them, but sitting alone in Nate’s apartment in anticipation of what was to come was scaring the shit out of you.
Your hands were a little shaky and your palms were definitely sweaty. There was change coming, change that was already present, and you were both excited and terrified for it. Nate reentered the apartment not long after. When he saw you sitting on the couch, he released a breath he’d been holding.
“Are you going to stay for another glass?” he asked after locking the door behind him. “That one’s only your second.”
You eyed his smile, heart beat stuttering a bit beneath his gaze, and lifted the glass to your lips to finished what was left. You nodded and followed him into the kitchen. While he filled both your glass and his, you picked yourself up onto the counter like you’d done so many times before.
“I did a bad thing,” he murmured after handing your glass back to you. You raised a brow at him as he reached over to one of the cabinets and opened it to reveal two pastries in a Ziploc bag. “I stole two of them from my mom.”
“Nate!” you exclaimed. He chuckled at your exasperation. “I can bring you to that bakery whenever you want! Your parents don’t live here! It was a gift!”
“And they have the other eleven pastries,” he argued. “They’re not going to miss two.”
Reluctantly, but still with a smile, you took a pastry from his hand. You bit into it at the same time, eyes lighting up at the taste. At the sight of each other’s faces, you were doubled over in laughter before you had the chance to swallow what was in your mouth. You looked away from him to regain composure and only looked back when you were sure you wouldn’t choke.
“Those were fucking good.”
“Only the best for your mom.”
“Thank you,” he spoke. “For the pastries and for hanging out with my family today. I’m sure you had other things to do, but it meant a lot. They’ve been hearing a lot about you.”
“I had a lot of fun with them,” you said. His smile was soft, shy even, and he watched you carefully as you sipped from the glass in your hand. “It was nice to meet the people who made you who you are.”
“Wait until you meet Sid.”
You decided to move from the kitchen to the living room in favor of more comfortable seating. He reached his hand out behind his back, and you linked your fingers with his lazily so he could lead you to the couch. You slowed to a stop as he sat down, legs spread to pull you between them. Your hesitation caused a look of confusion to flash over his features.
“Can you tell me what’s going on inside your head now?” you asked, placing your glass down on the table beside the arm of the couch. He followed suit, then placed his hand delicately at your hip to urge you closer.
“Sure, I can,” he answered. He pulled you into his lap. You looped her arms around his shoulders as he flattened one hand against your back and curled the other around your thigh. “I don’t want to waste those romance rules on someone I don’t really like all that much.”
“You really didn’t like her?” you asked meekly. Of fucking course he didn’t like her, you were thinking. You were in his lap, not her, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Why?”
“The only reason I looked forward to going on dates with her was because I got to spend time with you before,” he confessed. You felt it all through your body. “I broke up with her the morning after we were at Gabe’s together. After you called me out on my bullshit, I knew I was being stupid.”
“Why me, though?”
“Because you deserve the world and I want to be the one to give it to you.”
It was only natural for you to lean in and capture his lips with yours. After all this time spent waiting and beating around the bush, you didn’t want to wait a second more. It was passionate, and new, and exciting. His hands held you close while your fingers curled into the back of his hair, but he wasn’t close enough.  
You swung your leg over to straddle him, not caring that you were wearing a dress with just panties underneath. His hands flew to your hips as you grinded against him. You gasped against his lips at the friction as he held you tighter, teeth nipping at your bottom lip until you covered his mouth with yours again. He guided your hips to grind against him once more, but you braced your hands against his chest to push away.
“I’m not staying for a fourth glass,” you said breathlessly. He smiled up at you, eyes falling to your lips that were red and plump from kissing him. Kissing him! He leaned in, tongue swiping along his bottom lip, and pulled you down by the back of the neck.
He murmured through his kisses, “You didn’t even finish your third.”
At the challenge in his voice, you reached over for the glass on the side table and finished what was left. He held you close, laughing against the crook of your neck. You giggled along with him until you felt his lips against your skin again and a gasp fell from your lips.
“You gotta leave before I pour number four,” he warned, breath ghosting over your neck. He kissed your neck again, this time sucking lightly enough to earn a strangled moan. You pushed back against his chest and stood, flustered as you adjusted your dress and your hair. Nate couldn’t help but smile as he watched you cross the room for your purse. He grabbed a pillow and held it over his lap to hide his hard-on.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked as you put your heels on the end of the couch. He was admiring your flushed cheeks and your wild hair as you busied yourself. You fastened the strap on each heel before looking back at him. It took everything in you to not go back over there and unbutton the rest of his shirt.
“Nothing,” you answered as you stood. He followed suit, adjusting his dress pants just a bit so he was comfortable and making you giggle in the process. He stepped up beside you and pulled you against him again. He placed one, two, three kisses against your neck then your jaw then your lips.
“Let me make you dinner.”
---
Nate wasn’t going to be able to keep his hands to himself. He knew that the second you walked out of your room in that little black dress, but he was really trying to be on his best behavior. It was technically only your first date and he wanted to impress you. You just weren’t helping very much. As soon as you were in his car, you were grabbing his hand and lacing it with yours to drop them into your lap.
He was a little nervous that he wasn’t going to be able to pull this off. He was sure that he’d fuck up somewhere and you’d go running. And, truthfully, you could tell that he was overthinking every little thing he did. The tension in his shoulders as he moved about the kitchen to prepare everything for dinner was clear.
“What’s wrong with you?” you asked.
He gave you the most pathetic shrug and shake of the head as he tried to wave off your concern with a soft, “Nothing.”
“That’s a lie,” you called him out. “You look stressed.”
“I mean, I am a little stressed,” he admitted, diverting his eyes from yours as he headed over to the fridge. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Before he knew it, you were standing between him and the refrigerator. You flattened your hands against his chest and slid them up until your hands were linked behind his neck. A slight tug on him was enough to get him to kiss you. He finally relaxed, arms dropping from the refrigerator door to grip your hips.
“You’re not going to fuck this up.”
“I don’t have a very good track record.”
“You do with me,” you said softly. He looked skeptical, not quite understanding what you meant, so you pressed against him as his arms enveloped you. “You gave me a sunflower the third time we were ever around each other. You’ve cooked me dinner already. Sure, it was under different circumstances, but it counts. Nate, you know exactly what you’re doing. Don’t overthink it.”
“Go sit,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You managed to calm his nerves better than anyone he’d ever known in a matter of seconds. “I’ll plate dinner and then I have to grab something for you, okay?”
Nate entered the dining room a minute later, placing both plates down across from each other before disappearing to grab wine glasses and another bottle of wine. Then, he was off down the hall to his bedroom. Your eyes followed him curiously, wondering what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He’d already impressed you enough by cooking a meal you didn’t teach him.
“Oh, wow,” you breathed out when he appeared in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers. “Nate.”
“For you.”
You stood to take them from his hands and kiss him in thanks. When you pulled away, your fingers danced along the petals of the roses tucked between the sunflowers and baby’s breath Nate had grown to love too.
---
You filled your glass for a fourth time as inconspicuously as possible after your last bite of dinner, but Nate caught your eye over the bottle as you poured and you knew he knew what you were doing. He tried to stifle his smile unsuccessfully, picking up his own glass to cover it. One sip and his third glass was done.
“More?” you asked, extending the bottle in his direction.
“Four glasses?” he teased. “What do you take me for?”
“Okay, more for me then.”
Your voice was low, eyes dark as they settled on him, and suddenly he was lunging forward to grab the bottle and pour another glass for himself. Your giggles filled the room. He wanted them to echo off his walls forever.
“I want to take a picture with you,” he said. You gave him a curious look, though your stomach was doing cartwheels at the suggestion. “I keep thinking about your empty picture frame and I want you to have something to put in it.”
“We can take a selfie,” you suggested. He was quick to shake his head, pushing away from the table to take your hand and lead you to the patio. He pulled the phone from his back pocket and set it up against the couch. He removed the glass from your hand to place it out of view of the camera.
“Now, this is quite the set up,” you murmured as he moved furniture out of the way so there was ample space to take the photo. Denver’s city lights were sure to be the perfect backdrop and having Nate beside you wasn’t too bad either.
“Well, it has to be perfect if it’s going in your office.”
“How do you know I’ll even want to put it in the frame?” you asked. Nate pressed the timer and turned to walk back at you, smirk on his lips. You were teasing him, but you were playing innocent with those doe eyes. He curled around you, arms pulling your back against his chest to pose for the picture.
“After tonight, I’m sure you will,” he murmured in your ear. “Smile.”
The audacity of a man who tells you to smile after igniting your entire body in goosebumps.
The camera went off in a sequence, five pictures for the one timer. You smiled twice before he reached up to turn your face to his for a kiss. The sound of the shutter had you pulling away from his lips with a giggle. He smiled down at you for the next photo as laughter spilled from your lips, and then he was kissing you again.
When you finally pulled away from him, all giggly and handsy, Nate dragged you along with him to his phone. He curled around you as he flipped through the photos, each one cuter than the one before.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t put that in your office?” he asked. His breath tickled the back of your neck. You were just trying to tease him before, but with the lack of space between you and the way he was looking at you in these photos, you just couldn’t tease him anymore. His fingers trailed up your arms, goosebumps rising in their wake once again.
“How’s that fourth glass of wine treating you?” you asked. Nate tucked the phone in his back pocket as you turned to face him. His hands were on you once they were free, curling over the curve of your ass.
“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it,” he murmured against your lips. “I’m trying to be good, but it’s impossible to keep my hands to myself.”
“What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?” you against, arching your body to press against him. You could feel him hard against your hip and knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. You pressed your lips to his and, as you pulled away, you took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked on it.
A growl ripped through his chest as he lifted you into his arms. Your legs came to wrap around his waist as he carried you into the apartment and slammed the patio door shut behind him. He dropped you onto the bed, one hand coming to tug you towards the end by the ankle. His hands spread your legs so he could step between them and they slid up your thigh, pushing your dress up as they went.
“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmured in your ear as his hands reached your hip, dress bunching around his wrists and revealing your lace panties to him. “Stealing touches in a crowded room just doesn’t compare.”
You lifted your arms as he guided the dress over your body and tossed it to the floor. At the sight of your match set, Nate pushed you up the bed and crawled over you. He peppered kisses along your skin from your collarbone to your chest. He worked his way down your stomach until reaching the top of your underwear. In on swift movement, your thong was on the floor and he was spreading your legs.
“So pretty,” he murmured, fingers spreading your folds. You moaned out as he slipped his finger in. “You like my fingers in your pussy, baby?” You could only manage to nod because he’d already slipped a second finger in. He curled them while he pressed a kiss against your inner thigh. “How about my tongue?”
Nate licked a stripe up your center and you gasped, hands flying down to curl into his hair as he continued to eat you out. He sucked on your pussy, continuing to thrust his fingers into and curl. He dragged moans out of you, obscene words dripped from your lips, and the filthy sound of his tongue filled the room.
“You taste so good.”
You tried to grind against face for some more friction, but he held your hips down and continued. You whined, tugging his hair and arching your back as he brought you to orgasm.
“Nate, I’m gonna cu—” you moaned, toes curling at the feet of his lips around you. Suddenly, cool air shocked your core and your orgasm retreated. You sighed as your whole body sank into the bed at the absence of stimulation. Nate crawled up your buddy, licking a stripe up your neck before attaching his lips to yours.
“Sorry, baby,” he said. He nudged your knees apart and situated himself between them, hand falling to his dick as he lined it up with your entrance. “I just need you to cum on my cock.” You moaned as he pushed his head between your folds. “YN, as long as you’re mine, I’ll never make you feel like you don’t deserve all the most romantic things.”
You answered with a moan as he bottomed out inside you. He watched your face as you adjusted to his size and smiled as you whimpered, pulling your teeth between your lips. You felt so good around him and as he began to pull out and thrust in again, your nails dug into his biceps.
You knew he was trying to take his time, but you could hardly take it. As far as you were concerned, Nate would have all the time in the world to take it slow with you. Tonight was not that night.
“Fuck me harder.”
When you sounded like that beneath him, how could he say no? His previously slow and calculated thrusts became sloppy at your request. He relished in the sound of your moaning and the way you called his name like a prayer. You were unraveling beneath him and he wanted to get you there. He adjusted your leg over his shoulder so he could hit a new angle.
“Come on, baby,” he moaned against your lips. “I wanna see you cum for me.”
He reached down and placed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in circles as he pumped into you. You screamed out and your body arched as your orgasm ripped through you. Nate pumped into you a few moments more as he chased his high while listening to your whimpers. He spilled out into his condom as a string of curses left his lips, then collapsed onto of you to catch his breath.
Your fingers immediately found his hair as your breathing evened out together. His body was hot on yours and a sheen of sweat covered both of you. Nate’s fingers curled around your waist and into your skin, squeezing you like he needed to get closer but couldn’t. Finally, he pulled out of you and sat back on his knees.
“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed, hands rubbing up your stomach to cup your breasts. You shivered at his touch. “I never want to leave this bed.”
“Not even for shower sex?”
“Okay, maybe for shower sex,” he murmured. He picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder to carry you to the bathroom.
---
A few hours (and orgasms later), you were clothed in Nate’s sweats and t-shirt and waiting for him beneath the covers in bed. He was cleaning up the glasses you left on the patio and running the dishwasher, though he was quick to finish it up and return to you. You looked so cute propped up against the headboard that he couldn’t stop smiling as he got ready for bed. He pulled on a pair of sweats, but remained topless as he slid under the covers. Instead of pulling you down to rest on his chest, he dropped his head onto your stomach and pulled you tightly to him. Your fingers carded through his hair.
“Thank you for tonight, Nate,” you spoke. “This was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
“I’m counting this as our fourth date,” he responded. You laughed at him, slapping his bicep lightly at his teasing. “Let’s be honest, I was trying to impress you this entire time anyway.”
“Consider me impressed.”
Nate pulled you down to eye level with him, heads on your respective pillows, and then turned to shut the lamp off beside him. When he turned back, he pulled you against his chest. With your ear to his chest, you listened to his heartbeat and his breathing as it evened out. His fingers scratched your back ever-so-slightly as if soothing you to sleep.
“Are you happy?” he asked. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. Could he not tell how happy you were?
“Of course, I am,” you answered. “Are you?”
“How could I not be?” he asked. “You’re so far out of my league.”
“No, I’m not,” you groaned. You covered your blushing face with your hands at his words, hoping that he couldn’t feel the beat of your heart. Nate was quick to tug them down, holding them against his own chest. He didn’t care if you felt how hard his heart was beating. In fact, he wanted you to know. He wanted you to know the effect you had on him.
“You feel my heart, right?” he asked. You nodded. “You did that. You do that to me every single time I’m around you.” Your eyes began to water and you tried to pull your hand away from his to wipe the water pooling in the corner. Nate grabbed both your hands with one of his and wiped it with his own thumb. “I’ll never let you go to bed thinking I don’t love you. I’m going to shower you with flowers from our favorite florist and buy you pastries from that little shop you like, and I’ll never make you feel like you need to stifle yourself and who you are on account of me.”
“Nate.”
“Just listen to me, alright?” he asked, voice soft. You nodded. “Your ex stuffed you down and he didn’t appreciate you. That’ll never happen with me, and if you feel like it is, you need to tell me, just like you did when we first met.”
You tried to stammer through some type of coherent response, but words failed, so you kissed him. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him and your legs intertwined. He was intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough, but he felt just the same. He wondered how anyone had let you go before and simultaneously thanked them for the gift that was you.
That night, Nate vowed he’d never let you go to bed unhappy and he’d never let you feel any less than perfect. He waited forever for a partner like you, honest and kind, and he finally had it in his hands, in his bed. And you promised that you’d never love anyone as much as you loved him. You just knew it.
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regrettablewritings · 4 years ago
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Preference: You Move In Together
Characters: Tadashi Hamada, Dewey Finn, Diana Prince, Cassian Andor, Clark Kent
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Tadashi Hamada
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It started out with a kiss – how did it end up like this?
“This” being you holding a flashlight as high up as your crossed arms would let you as you bemusedly watched your boyfriend fiddle with the generator. Though, you already knew that answer: You two had finally settled down to relax and watch a movie (a little treat for getting through your third day of moving into your new apartment), when a flickering light coming from the kitchen began to distract you from your peripheral. Ever the assure-er, your beloved boyfriend insisted it wasn’t anything serious, that it could easily wait until the morning, and give you a kiss of comfort for good measure. But no: It could not wait until morning. It would not wait until morning.
Instead, whatever was going on waited until the climax of the movie to decide to blow the power out, plunging you both into a well of darkness. You groaned loudly, realizing that this meant the both of you would have to wait until morning to get somebody out here to check it out.
“Why wait?” Tadashi asked. “You have one of SFIT’s finest living with you!”
Surprisingly, robotics and electrical engineering were not quite the same – even one of SFIT’s finest could (and did) find himself struggling to figure out what the problem was.
And for as bemused as you were about the entire situation . . . some part of you couldn’t help but find the tiniest kernels of enjoyment in it. It was that part of you that knew that, a couple years in the future, this would be looked upon as a sweet moment. One of those moments older couples remember when looking back on how far they’d come together.
You two had only been moved in to your apartment for less than a month and already your lives felt so full of potential memories: From Tadashi attempting to make “the first breakfast of the rest of your lives” (and subsequently setting off your kinda crappy fire alarm); to you slipping down the stairs on your butt and thus earning his light taunts as he inspected the damage; to the both of you waking up to find your inflatable mattress had deflated overnight after only two nights of sleeping on it.
Your lives felt so full . . . yet it was clearly only the beginning. And that was certainly something to look forward to. Well, that, and having dependable electricity.
“Okay!” you heard Tadashi exclaim, rising up from his previous position. You didn’t need to direct the flashlight at his face to know that he was sporting that confident smile of his. “This time, I think I’ve got it. ‘And the Lord said --” He positioned his finger on the switch. “ ‘Let there be light!’” And with that, he gave it a victorious flip.
Nothing. Still darkness. The only thing that changed was that the silence was now awkward and well-earned. It was only broken by a single clap of hands.
“. . .  You craving McNuggets? I’m craving McNuggets.”
You blinked. “McNug -- Tadashi, it’s almost midnight.”
“McNuggets, (Y/N)! Let’s go! We can pick up donuts after!” Tadashi insisted, gently pushing you towards the coat closet to retrieve a jacket. In the hustle and bustle, you gave up trying to stay unimpressed about the entire evening: You simply had to let out a laugh.
“Oh, Tadashi,” you sighed as you shook your head slowly, though not completely without adoration.
Yeah, you were both in it for the long run. And if you had known this sort of thing would happen, you still would’ve chosen him to be with. After all, if this kept up, your lives would be truly full before you knew it.
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Dewey Finn
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Statistically speaking, Staten Island is the cheapest borough to live in. However, New York is still New York. Meaning that you two are the very image that comes to mind when someone thinks about a young couple trying to make it work: The apartment is small; the walls aren’t paper-thin per se, but let’s just say you’d made cardboard club houses from sturdier stock; the quality of certain utilities isn’t exactly stellar, either, given that it was the best the two of you could afford; and you were both in positions that didn’t normally pay especially well in terms of making six figures.
And yet you both were pretty satisfied with the living situation.
Sure, moving your stuff in together was like playing life-size Tetris (with the added “bonus” of having to pick and choose what would be moved into storage and what you’d have to just give away). But after you got into the groove of things, it seemed to pale in comparison to the lives you’d begun to develop as a cohabiting couple.
For one, this was the first time in a long while where Dewey had actually lived in a clean/livable living space. Maybe not pristine, but there had been an established regimen of sorts: Dishes would be cleaned (even if begrudgingly) amongst the two of you; trash was taken out instead of left to grow into a mountain of pizza boxes and soda bottles and whatnot; and for the first time since he’d left his ma’s house, the mattress lay upon an actual box spring rather than a bunch of milk crates filled with records.
Completing the picture of the young struggling pre-famous by way of Dewey becoming a rock god couple was the assortment of Struggle Meals™ that had become a part of your day-to-day lives. Sure, you tried to eat healthy, but let’s be real: Cooking can be such a pain in the ass. It took a while, but you eventually had to agree for the betterment of your budgets to limit eating out to the weekends every other weekend. Until then, weird salads and Chili Mac and crockpots full of “let’s see what happens when we throw all this stuff in because their best by dates are coming and we kinda need to not waste this shit” stew would have to hold you guys over.
And yet, it wasn’t all bad.
There would be nights when Dewey would be on a song-writing kick up until one or chord would stump him, or nights where you’d have to bring paperwork home and you would begin to contemplate the consequences of just flinging it out the window. In moments like those, you were one anothers’ biggest cheerleaders.
You would continue to be one of the only people that could get Dewey to take a break, insisting that maybe going on a walk might help or maybe he can stop for a moment and just join you for a couple rounds of Mario Kart. And he would fix you up your favorite tea or, in turn, insist that you take a break before you slammed your face into the wall. It rarely actually mattered what one did for the other in that specific moment because no matter what it was, it was all the other needed to get over that roadblock.
And then there were those quiet moments . . . Dewey was never a quiet person, never really was into the quiet. But when you two moved in together, he sort of had to learn to respect those for your sake. And even though it was (and still can be) a bit of a struggle . . . you make it so much easier for him. Just by linking your hands together or running your fingers through his hair while you read. Or by rubbing his shoulders while you lounge behind him on the couch while he messes around with a lesson plan . . .
All in all, in some awkward yet beautiful way, you’re making in work. You try to take turns and share responsibilities, you both go and work your butts off to keep the lights on in this World’s Most Expensive Animal Cracker Box you call in apartment. It’s far from easy. But there’s just this massive feeling of satisfaction that hits the both of you when you come home after a long day of work, collapse on the couch, glance at each other with the most exhausted faces and go, “Wow, you look like shit.” Punctuated with a kiss, of course.
(Hey, it’s a Staten Island love story.)
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Diana Prince
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It all just sort of happened, really. There wasn’t any actual intention of you two living together-- at least, not at first. It had actually just started off with you coming over to Diana’s place just to house-sit whenever she had to go on a mission or even back home (after all, who better to watch her home than her beloved). Of course, this didn’t occur too often at first: She’d mostly retired from the vigilante life by the time you two had established anything. But once Bruce gathered up the Metahumans for a common cause, Diana’s need for you to come by became more frequent. So of course that meant you stayed over more often -- which, of course, meant you would have to make yourself right at home.
When Diana found an article of your clothing mixed in with her own laundry, though, that was when it occurred to her that perhaps it might be more beneficial for you to just stay there. Without the whole going back to your place bit.
You never pushed for it before: After all, for as loving as she was, Diana was still a woman who needed her space, given her history. You felt honored enough that she deemed you worthy of sharing her secret with, you weren’t about to apply more pressure to her by demanding that she let you move in.
Thankfully, no regrets were had.
You felt such childish glee in the moments when you’d wake up and see your gorgeous girlfriend in the kitchen, boiling coffee -- you were actually a little embarrassed at first. But given that Diana was never one to hide her feelings, it didn’t take long for you to realize that she actually felt the exact same: With you around more frequently, the apartment felt far less lonely. Far more warm and welcoming.
It wasn’t just filled with "her" stuff because now it had "your" stuff -- as in things that belonged to the both of you now. And sure, it might've been just little things like desk plants or jello molds or gimmicky little mugs, but it didn't matter to her-- they were yours. Together. Like an actual unit!
There were discussions of comfort zones to avoid as many clashes as possible; you communicated with one another about what idiosyncrasies were and weren’t going to be potential problems and how to possibly combat those.
It wasn’t always perfect, of course, but neither of you would have traded it for anything after you became accustomed to your new living situation.
But the very best moments were when she’d come home after being gone with the League. Tired, sometimes even still in costume, she’d trudge into the apartment, right into the bedroom, before collapsing on the bed next to you. Even if the feeling of your Amazonian girlfriend crashing down didn’t wake you, the exhausted yet relieved sigh she’d release most definitely would. And every time that happened, the first thing you’d feel wouldn’t be irritation at being woken up: It would be excitement.
She’s home! you would cheer on the inside, even if your tired body wouldn’t portray as much excitement as you would try to sit upright to greet her.
“Welcome home,” you smiled every time, voice husky with sleep. And she would smile back. Tired, yes, but always with so much love.
“Hello, beloved,” she would greet. “How was your day?” She would ask this every time. And she would listen, no matter what you responded with.
It was a good life.
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Cassian Andor
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You fought in a war, you survived a deadly mission that turned the tide for the war, the war ended . . . Now what? You buy a home together.
Oh, if only it were so simple.
Neither you nor Cassian really had much of an idea of where to move to for starters. Sure, you talked a big game about the places you wanted to travel to and see for yourselves, but vacations seemed far more within reach than a milestone like moving in together. At one point, you humored the possibility of just traveling around to those places you’d marked and just settle down in one of them, but they were hardly places you could see yourselves actually living in.
But in the end, you picked Takodana: Lush, green, neutral. Cassian was admittedly hesitant at the idea of settling on neutral territory: To him, that would’ve been just as bad as going somewhere where they didn’t care that a war was happening. But you insisted upon it, voicing how perhaps the influence of a quiet life might rub off on him. Plus, it was hard for him to argue with how calm and quiet it all was. An adjustment from the bustle and yells of a rebel base as he had literally grown used to, but not an entirely unpleasant one.
He never knew that crickets could sound so soothing.
Really, the adjustment of moving in together came from the fact that it wasn’t moving into a small section of living quarters sanctioned by an army: It was an entire home, just for the two of you (and K2), surrounded by forests and near enough to civilization while still being far enough away to assure privacy.
It felt weird to Cassian, who’d spent virtually his entire life living with the opposite: Constantly surrounded by people, constantly surrounded by dust, near enough to others while simultaneously being . . . alone.
Only he wasn’t alone: He was alone with you. And that’s what made all the difference for him. Sure, he wasn’t going to entirely give up his insistence on investing in protective measures. And just because it was your home, didn’t mean you were allowed to slack off on the order of the pantry or how fabrics like towels were folded, as though you were tossing away years of mandated regimen.
But so long as he has you, his link to regaining his sense of self? Who Cassian Jeron Andor is without the war? He’s pretty sure he can make that leap and start his next mission: Starting a family together.
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Clark Kent
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You two liked to joke that it was done in order to better brave the ridiculous Metropolis housing market. Which wasn’t far from the truth, actually. But the reality clearly had more to do with the fact that moving in together, after being a couple for so long, just felt like the right thing to do. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the most mystical or romantic of reasons, but why complicate things? This was already a relationship composed of the Kryptonian alien who caused a calamity and the woman who helped to try and kill him for it.
The beautiful thing about your new living situation was that it was a unique blend of the mundane and the strange. Unique: You were living with Superman which meant that after a point, it became somewhat necessary for you to know how to clean his suit and cape in the event he couldn’t be home to do it himself. Mundane: Clark liked taking care of you, and that meant sometimes you woke up to breakfast in bed or came home to find that he’d run you a nice, hot bath.
Unique: Dusting and vacuuming high corners and hard-to-reach places was a thing of the past since Clark could easily lift the heaviest of furniture, lift you up himself, or even fly up to perform the task. Mundane: On some evenings, you two could just end the day by relaxing on the couch, you lying on your back as Clark rested his head on your tummy so that you had access to play with his curls. Unique and mundane: You now had the option of completing grocery bag trips in one go. It wasn’t advised due to the whole issue of discretion, but, like, at least the possibility was now there.
Mundanely unique: His fast metabolism meant that your fridge, freezer, and cabinets were stocked to the bring with snacks of all kinds. Uniquely mundane: Clark snored a bit in his sleep and as much as you loved him, no amount of love could make snoring cute.
But compared to everything else, you’d take it in a heartbeat. You never imagined yourself having a life quite like this, to say the least. But now you could never imagine yourself having anything different.
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b612sunsets · 3 years ago
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Ahhh I’m happy to see someone else loving The Devil Judge - it truly is amazing 😭😭🖤✨ I love Yo-Han and Ga-on’s relationship I swear let them be destructive together!
I hate waiting for new episodes so please tell me one of your theories, it can be about anything! 🥰
Right?! I love it so much, it's really good to have our lilttle fam getting bigger, can't wait until it airs on Netflix, we will have even more people going crazy about it in here! (at least I hope it will become a Netflix series after the show ends like Beyon Evil - another love of mine) and yes, lawful husbands can be destructive together but only to the bad people pls 🥺
It's tough waiting for new episodes every weekend and at the same time I wish for it not to end so soon. It hasn't finished but I already want Jisung and Jinyoung in a second season or working together in another drama. Their chemistry on screen is too good to stop there
About the theories, there's a few I saw on reddit/twitter and I make my own based on it and after watching every episode, but I think it's too early to talk about them. However, since you requested it, there's some that come to mind as interesting enough to mention.
The fire and the story behind it narrated by Yohan
1- Some people think Yohan did start the fire because he found out about the dirty politicians real intentions and decided to destroy them all in the same place before Isaac could donate the money bc he is "a devil" and capable of that since he was a kid as told by the priest with the school incident and the nanny with the maid and dog thing. side note: not for pranking some kids who bullied him because that's all it seems like, right? But in terms of observing, thinking strategically and being one step ahead when needing to punish the whole classroom who wronged him even as young as he was and feeling satisfied while watching the result and staying out of it. A type of mentality probably encouraged by Isaac and the books he gave him to read, unlike a regular kid who would just fight back or endure it. And we still have to see if it really was Yohan that contributed to the maid's death or if it was something/someone else and the nanny thinks it was him.
They think that Elijah even saw him in front of the door right before the fire started and smiled at him instead of smiling at her parents, like she did in the gates of the cathedral in the previous scene, so that's why she hates him so much now because she can remember seeing him as the responsible for it. But Yohan didn't intend to kill/hurt Isaac and the rest of the family, thinking he could save them or something, and felt guilty that he couldn't do so. Some even said that Yohan delayed too much in trying to save them after entering the church and seeing Elijah getting her legs hurt, that it may have been shock but why would he remember everything and everyone so clearly if he was in shock?
It's a good theory but I have my own remarks: why wouldn't he tell Isaac about the politicians himself if he knew the dirty about them then? They had a close relationship and Isaac gave him books about punishment and everything, it wasn't like Isaac was too naive and wouldn't believe his half-brother. He wouldn't have donated if Yohan told him. "Oh he was being the devil and finding a way to punish them instead of just letting is slide and not donating" still, Yohan wouldn't risk Isaac and Elijah with such a dangerous plan if he could avoid having Isaac and Elijah at all in the destruction scene by telling Isaac about it. It could have been shock and Yohan wanting to look and commit to mind everyone's face in that day responsible for hurting his niece and not caring about anyone else but themselves, pushing him away and delaying his attempt to get to them in time, leaving Isaac and the family behind (after they almost donated them their money) and things like that. So he can avenge them now, like he did in the school with the kids. That's why as soon as he could, he canceled the donation in the most easy way by saying his brother wasn't sane enough to make that decision before dying.
There's also the theories about Isaac being the insane/evil one, which wouldn't surprise me because I've considered it since episode 3 but at the same time I'll not be touching that topic now and I don't know if I ever will unless proven otherwise in some other episode
2- The other theory I have and saw people discussing (the one I'm most inclined to believe because I'm Yohan biased but again it's too soon to be sure) is that the story Yohan narrated is mostly if not completely true and he experiences extreme guilt for not coming back and saving Isaac when the church collapsed on him, as seen in the character introduction by tvN translated in this tweet that we now know it's about Isaac:
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The last words Yohan said to Isaac was that he was going to come back for him, so he experiences nightmares like the flashbacks we saw in episode 1 and that's why we don't see any scene of Isaac in the middle of the church after the fire staring at Yohan or during the fire and turning to stare directly at Yohan when he narrates it. Because they're dreams and his guilty conscience and he remembers them when looking at Gaon. The flashback of Yohan kneeling down and touching Isaac with Elijah's bear close to him could be after he got Elijah out from there and he went back to put the bear next to him kinda like a "Sorry for not coming back in time", a reassurance that his daughter for whom he died for is safe and will always stay with him, a "Goodbye". He wouldn't just let Isaac's body lying there, he would go back even if it was too late.
Another thing is that when Yohan is showing Gaon his scar after telling the story, there's a book fallen at his feet. I think it was the thing that fell when Yohan standed up from the table and choked Gaon (trying hard not to comment on that choking scene as a 🔥 Gahan moment for our delight and imagination bc that's not the point right now lol)
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This is the book:
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And the first page of this book says "Never again will a single story be told as though it's the only one." - John Berger
I searched about it and it can mean that never again will a story be told as if it's the only one that matters. It could also mean that never again will a story be so encompassing of the elements it tackles that no other story need be written about these elements. A story has many perspectives that cannot be understood by just a single viewpoint. Isn't that what this kdrama is all about?
One of the translations of what Yohan said after Gaon left was:
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But there's also another version:
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The meaning of what he said changes a bit depending on which translation is more accurate, more so when we add the book quote to the equation.
Kim Gaon and his connection to Kang Yohan
People think Gaon could be Isaac's relative in some way or just a look alike (I think it's just a look alike to contribute to Yohan's obsession/curiosity and their proximity from the start, that's why no one really comments on it, not even Gaon when he sees Isaac's picture). Dear God, let them not be related because it would make shipping our lawful husbands really strange, to say the least.
What I'd like to say and almost everyone is forgetting is that in the tvN character introduction we already have Gaon's past and know he wasn't always a goody two shoes, the man was a juvenile delinquent and can even fight (the rebellious phase he said he made the tattoo in episode 3?). He too sought revenge for his parents when he was 16 because they committed suicide after losing their money and being deceived by multi-level con artists posing as social service workers. But the teacher and Soohyun were able to hold him back.
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Yohan's father could be one of the reasons for their death. He was a loan shark and might have lend them money after they lost it all and it caused them to have a great debt, that's why Yohan did a thorough research on Gaon and was interested in him (not only because he resembled his half-brother). They shared one enemy in common and maybe even a place (churches, Yohan's father tended to confess his sins in a church when his debtors killed themselves). Or Yohan might have researched about him at the time he knew Gaon was chosen to be the associate judge sitting on his left side instead of way before, because it's important to Yohan to know who he is dealing with and the dirty of their past if they have any. And then Yohan discovered everything and saw his picture and resemblance to Isaac.
The thing is: they have the same distrust/repulsion of powerful people who deceive the world and had a painful loss because of that. Both of them think they have the other exactly where they want but they get more confused about what it is that they really want from the other and get closer (as said in the summary of episode 5 that tvN released) while figuring it out. They will come to an understanding and probably join forces at some point. We saw it in the end of episode 4, the scene of episode 5 when Gaon says he can understand Yohan's pain but can't trust him if he doesn't tell him everything and then Yohan says Gaon needs to decide if he will get in his way or stay by his side. Gaon might go back to his rebellious days and stay with Yohan to seek revenge together while distancing himself from Soohyun and Jungho who prevented him from doing so
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And that's about it! Thank you for your ask and hope my answer is satisfying enough! 💙 The hardest but also most awesome part is having to wait to see.
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amor-immortalem · 3 years ago
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Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever ch.8
Previous
Warning(s): Nothing just fluff
If you want to be tagged or if you’re already tagged and wish not to be, please let me know.
Tag list @mediocredetective @it-hurts-when-i-blink @ima-simp-uwu @luckyauthorlampknight
The pair of brothers spent the rest of the night in Mammon’s room. Around dinner time they were joined by the twins who had brought tonight’s dinner. They had decided to eat with their second eldest brother, having heard from Satan who had heard from Lucifer that Mammon had had a particularly rough day at school and figured sharing a hot meal together would be a good way to comfort him. Even Levi stopped by after they had finished eating, bringing plenty of games that he and Mammon enjoyed playing together -along with the appropriate console- after they had first fallen so Levi wouldn’t go feral from his self-isolation.
It felt like they were a proper family once more- light teasing and proper brotherly bickering occurring between the five of them, making sure to keep things at a level that was normal for siblings and a far cry from the vicious words they would throw Mammon’s way. They had all spent so long playing that eventually they had all fallen asleep together on or around Mammon’s couch with Belphie being the first to conk out for the night.
When they all awoke in the morning, Asmo told their brothers about the plan to help Mammon escape to the human world and about how they were going to be uncles.
“Let me go with you,” Beel responded eagerly, “If Lucifer finds out before you guys can get away, my strength will come in handy to buy you all a little time.”
“Beel, as much as I appreciate it, I can’t let you do that ta yourself.” Mammon says, a worried look in his blue and gold eyes. “Ya know what happens if ya stand against our brother’s authority. I mean look at what he did to Belphie when he went against Lucifer and Lord Diavolo over the exchange programme.”
“Yeah, locking me in the attic was a shitty move on his part but still, Lucifer is acting like a fucking tyrant.” Belphegor agreed. “I mean we’re all pretty scared of the monster he’s turning into, but what he’s doing to you is wrong. And we heard about the gaslighting incident at school yesterday. That was really fucked up- and you’re the favorite. Imagine what will happen to us after he finds out.”
The brothers all nodded at that.
“An’ that’s why I don’t want y’all doin’ it.” Mammon said sternly. “You two’re the youngest an’ while yer both strong in yer own right, the two of ya can’t hold a candle ta our brother.”
“What if Satan and I went along with you?” Levi asked, “Sure, Lucifer’s power output is over 9000 but Asmo, Satan, and I should be enough to at least match that for enough time for you and Solomon to get through the portal...”
“That would work.” Asmo nodded as they had a contemplative look on their face. “Actually, we’d stand a better chance if the twins go too.”
“You guys would really do this for me?” The Avatar of Greed looks around the room at all of his brothers before letting out a soft chuckle, “Guess Lucifer was right ‘bout one thing... you guys really do care.” He can’t help the tearful smile that creeps its way onto his features.
“Of course we do. We always did but we never showed it in the way we should have,” the fifth-born threw their arms around their older brother and was soon joined by their other brothers. “I mean we’re the ones who promised we’d change and we went back on that almost immediately.”
“We’re a family and you’re an important part of that too.” The Avatar of Envy says as they all press their foreheads together like they did back in the Celestial Realm before they went to war. “You keep things lively for us.”
“So it’s decided, right?” Beel asks, “We’re really going to do this? Together?”
“Together.” A sixth voice echoes from the upper level as the five of them pull away and turn their attention to Satan. He has a genuine smile on his face as he slides down on the railing of Mammon’s staircase like he used to do as a toddler. “Lucifer’s gone, by the way. Went up to the Demon Lord’s castle for a weekend meeting with Diavolo. If we’re going to make our move, it has to be tomorrow. So, everyone, get packed. I already booked four of us a hotel to stay at so Arella doesn’t have to put us up for however many months it is before the baby’s born. Asmo, you said you’d be staying with Solomon, right?”
“Right,” The Avatar of Lust nods. “Alright everyone, get ready.”
And just like that, the siblings dispersed to go about their packing.
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Arella can’t wait. After hearing of the news from Solomon a few days ago, the excitement started to grow. What she didn’t know was if Mammon had found out if she was pregnant yet. What would his reaction be? Surprise? Excitement? Something else? Anxiety filled her as it had been doing over these past few months so she picks up her D.D.D. that no longer has service and opened up her photo gallery which also had little videos of her and Mammon together.
The sound of his voice is comforting to her. It makes things feel much less lonely in the silent house- even with Aubrie visiting- but it also has the added effect of helping their baby recognize his father’s voice. With the little one showing signs of being able to hear the outside world earlier than expected and hijacking her magic to protect them when he felt frightened, the last thing she needed was the sound of a voice he didn’t recognize setting off one of the many protective spells in her repertoire. His favourite thing to do was erect a magical barrier around them to keep a threat away. Thank heavens normal humans weren’t able to see things like that.
As she selected a video- one of all the brothers and her together at Diavolo’s birthday party last year- she set it on top of the small bump that she had started showing a couple weeks ago. She could feel her son’s powerful little kicks to the side of her womb.
“Easy now, little one. You’re going to cause bruising with kicks like that.” Arella says as she rubs a hand over the front of her belly and she feels a turning sensation shortly after. “You certainly are active this evening. Your Daddy’s coming back to us tomorrow, okay? And five of your uncles as well so don’t be scared when you hear their voices. They won’t hurt you or me. They may be demons but deep down they’re a good lot.”
As the video playing on the D.D.D ended, Arella picked up a children's book and began reading aloud to her unborn child.
“Rells, I’m going to go back to my hotel. Do you need anything before I go?” Aubrie asked as she leaned against the door frame. “I’ll be back tomorrow to help you out before the boys get here- tomorrow is the day, right?”
“I don’t need anything but yes, tomorrow’s the day.” Arella smiles.
“Oh, I bet you’re excited.” The ginger smiles. “Alright, I’ll get going. See you tomorrow.”
Arella only nodded as she watched Aubrie go.
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The House of Lamentation held a slight air of chaos to it this morning due to the brothers running around for last minute packing. They barely had time for breakfast but since Mammon had the least number of items to pack, he was voted for breakfast duty while Satan covered dish duty. Today’s breakfast: Pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. As everyone sat down to eat, there was constant chatter about things they would do while up in the mortal realm during the months they would be staying.
While they were cleaning up, Solomon made his appearance. Asmo welcomed him with a hug as they quickly pulled the sorcerer along to Mammon’s room to get him so they could go. They both watch as he doesn’t react to their entrance instead seeming lost in his thoughts as he runs his thumb over an old, worn piece of grimm. Not even calling his name was enough to pull him from his zoned-out state. It wasn’t until Solomon placed a careful hand on the second-born's shoulder that Mammon looked up at them.
“Are you ready to go?” Solomon asks with a smile.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” The demon returns the smile, “Whenever everyone else is ready...”
Soon the rest of the brothers join them and it's time to go. Everyone grabs their bags or suitcases and load them up in the van that had been rented for them. Solomon was in charge of driving them to their destination.
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bobohu4eva · 4 years ago
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Pink Lace - Chapter 4
Characters: Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn
Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut
Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo
Masterlist
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When you woke up your head was pounding. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself out of bed anyway.
“Hey Mia” you spoke as you knocked on her door “I need a favor.” 
She opened the door just enough for you to see her tired form, bedhead and all looking back at you. 
“It’s 9am on a Sunday what the hell y/n.” She opened the door the rest of the way and rubbed her eyes. “What is it?” 
You felt bad waking her up, but you needed to tell her what had happened. And you needed your car back, which was still parked at the club. 
“I’ll explain more on the way, but Baekhyun drove me home from work last night and I need you to take me to my car.” 
You saw your roommates eyes widen “He drove you home? Are you insane?” 
“Just let me explain everything, I promise it’s not as crazy as it sounds.” 
“Okay, let me get dressed though.” She looked at you skeptically, closing the door and meeting you in the living room soon after to get going.
“So he drove you home.” She stated simply, keeping her eyes on the road as she made her way through the streets towards your work. 
“I know it sounds bad but he saved my ass last night. I was so nervous about him possibly showing up that I let some assholes get me blackout drunk. When he showed up he took me into a room to sleep it off and drove me home.” 
“You got wasted at work? You know how dangerous that is.” She reprimanded you. 
“I know, I know. And I usually don’t, but these guys seemed nice and I was so nervous that I just kept taking the shots they bought me. The assholes had me in a VIP room for a while too, from what Baekhyun told me. I can’t remember any of it though, thank god. All I remember is laughing and having a good time and then waking up with my head on his lap.” 
“Baekhyun’s lap? How do you know he didn’t just make it all up to seem like some sort of hero?” 
“Yeah.. He usually always gets there early, like 7 or 8, and when I woke up it was past midnight. He told me I was asleep for a few hours.” 
“So he just sat and watched you sleep that whole time... that’s not weird at all.” 
“I told you it’s not like that! If it wasn’t for him I would’ve been all on my own last night. I don’t even wanna think about all the fucked up shit that could’ve happened to me in there if he hadn’t taken me somewhere safe to sleep it off.” 
Mia stayed quiet. She knew you were right, Baekhyun had actually helped you. 
“I can’t explain it but it’s different with him, he’s not like the other guys there at all.” 
“Y/n, do you like him?” 
Her question caught you off guard. You didn’t know what to say. Did you like Baekhyun? 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean do you like him as more than just a customer.” 
“Well...” There was a pause, and you knew she could tell what was going on in your head. 
As you were trying to form your thoughts, Mia was already pulling into the parking lot of your work. She parked next to you, but before unlocking the doors she looked over at you. 
“You know you can tell me anything. I’m not gonna judge you if you have a crush on your professor, even if I think it’s a really bad idea. You’re my best friend.” 
“I don’t know what I feel. He’s always so sweet to me that it’s hard not to like him, even though I know I shouldn’t. I know I’m pushing these feelings down but they’re getting harder and harder to ignore.” 
She gave you a sympathetic look and you heard her car doors unlock. “Let’s get home, it’s too early to be thinking about this now anyway.” 
You got out and entered your own car, starting it and making your way back towards your shared home. When you got back you started making breakfast for the both of you, as both a thank you and I’m sorry for waking her up so early on a weekend. 
The two of you were in the middle of destroying some cinnamon rolls when she caught you off guard again. “Do you have a picture of Baekhyun? This whole time I’ve been  imagining him as a smelly neckbeard. He’s cuter than that, right?” She asked you, and you couldn’t help but crack up. 
“Yes” you laughed “he’s cute, really cute actually. Definitely the most attractive professor I’ve had in a while. Let me see if I can find something.” 
“Ooooo yes I wanna see.”
You logged into your universities website and started searching around, seeing if there were any photos of him there. To your dismay you couldn’t find anything on there, so your next guess was facebook. You typed in his full name, and what popped up was not what you had been expecting. 
There were several posts, all fairly old, and all pictures of him with his arm around a beautiful girl. His ex. 
Mia saw the change in your face and immediately snatched your phone out of your hand to see for herself. 
“What the fuck y/n...” She said as she stared at the phone, eyes wide. “THIS is him? This man right here.” She turned the phone around, pointing at him. 
“...Yeah. And I think that’s his ex in the picture too.” 
“Fuck the ex y/n this man is fucking beautiful... no wonder you like him. I would too. I’m sure half the girls in your class would love to hop on that.” 
You took your phone back, looking intently at the image on the screen. 
“She’s pretty.” 
“Who? His ex? Of course she is, look at him!” You just kept staring at the picture of the two of them together, feeling how it made your stomach twist up in discomfort. “Damn you do like him if you’re that stressed over one picture with his ex.” 
You knew she was just teasing, but she was still right. 
“Shut up, I just haven’t seen her before. I knew about her but seeing a picture of them together feels different.” 
“Y/n you have the fattest crush on this guy come on just admit it.” 
“It’s not a crush! I just think he’s an interesting person, and he’s attractive, and he likes me, soo..” 
“So what? Are you gonna try to fuck your professor?” 
“MIA” You shouted, and grabbed a pillow to hit her with. 
“Come on if I had a professor that hot I would too! And you already know he’s into you too.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, prompting you to roll your eyes. 
“He’s my professor, that’s the problem.” You sighed. “And my customer. Starting anything with him is a bad idea.” 
“It’s definitely a bad idea, but it could be really fun.” 
“An hour ago you thought I was crazy for letting him drive me home and now you’re telling me I should sleep with my professor just cause he’s hot?!” 
“Well I didn’t know what he looked like then! You should’ve at least told me he was cute.” 
“You’re so shallow!” 
“I’m not shallow! Y/n you need some spice in your life, maybe he could be good for you. And he’s rich.” Her eyes suddenly went wide, before asking you, “What car does he drive?” 
“An Audi... we still don’t know if he is though! He’s still just a professor, remember?” 
“You should try to find out how he has all this money, what if he’s secretly a mafia boss or something.” 
You only rolled your eyes. Sweet, shy little Baekhyun, a mafia boss? It was laughable. He was way too nice. 
“If he is rich, I don’t know how. Maybe he’s just a trust fund baby or something.” 
“Yeah maybe, but you’re gonna find out! Did he pay you last night?” 
That thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, you assumed your money bag was empty when you got home since you hadn’t given any dances but you hadn’t looked inside of it either. “I don’t know... let me check.” 
You got up and went to your room, returning with the bag. You sat back down in the living room with Mia and dramatically unzipped it, before holding it upside down and shaking it. Both you and Mia gasped at what fell out. Hundred after hundred fell until your living room couch was decorated with hundred dollar notes. 
“What the fuck...” You heard Mia whisper, obviously just as shocked as you. 
You gathered the money and counted the bills. Over two thousand dollars had been in that bag. You looked at your friend in disbelief. “He must’ve paid me for every hour I was asleep...” 
“Holy shit” 
“I have to give it back, this is too much.” You started shoving the money back into the bag, but Mia grabbed your wrist, stopping you. 
“Are you crazy? He gave you the money for a reason! You’re basically set for the rest of the semester now.” She was looking you in the eyes intently now, not letting you ignore her. 
“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t even give him a dance or anything I was literally just asleep and then cried a lot, he shouldn’t have paid me at all.” You said, shaking your head in disbelief.
“It’s your money and I can’t tell you what to do with it but I’d keep it if I were you. You’ll probably just hurt his feelings trying to give it back.” 
“I don’t care. I’m giving it back. Especially if he is just a professor I don’t want him spending any more money on me.” 
“It’s up to you...” She looked skeptical. You knew she wanted you to keep the money so she could reap some of the benefits as well, although she would’ve never admitted to it. Deep down you just couldn’t help but worry that Baekhyun couldn’t afford to give you that much. You had to at least try to give it back. 
The rest of Sunday went by in a blur of netflix movies and youtube videos. Sundays were your lazy days, a sacred tradition you were dedicated to keep. You knew however that when Monday rolled around, you were going to have to try to give Baekhyun his money back. You weren’t sure what that would look like, but for now the plan was to just corner him after class and tell him he needed it more than you did. Hopefully, he would accept it and that would be the end of it. 
~
Class on Monday was even more confusing than the previous days. You felt like you understood less with each passing class period, not more. The concepts he talked about only got more and more abstract, to the point where you had little clue what was going on at all. 
You were anxious about class ending as well, since you were going to have to face him to try to return his money. 
Eventually the lecture ended, and today you had to wait for several other students to talk to him first before he could get to you. They all had questions about their essays, the essay you had yet to even start. 
You knew Baekhyun saw you waiting and purposefully made you go last, although this time you were grateful. 
“Do you need help with you essay too?” He asked once he was done talking to the last student. You shook your head. 
You glanced towards the door, making sure the last student was out of the room before before pulling out the stack of cash that had been in your bag Sunday morning. “I can’t accept this.” You said, placing it on his desk. 
Baekhyun looked surprised, however he still wasn’t going to make this easy for you. 
“Why not?” He asked simply, looking genuinely confused. 
“I have plenty of money already, from you. I didn’t even give you a dance or anything and I know you don’t make THAT much as a professor and I just-”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me y/n. Just keep it. I promise I’ll be just fine without it.” 
“No. You need it more than I do, I already have enough to keep me going for a while and this was too much, I didn’t even do anything to deserve it.” 
“Y/n. Please. Just take it.” The look on his face was tired. You could tell he was telling the truth, he wanted you to have it, but that didn’t stop you from feeling guilty, and you weren’t taking no for an answer. 
“You’re a college professor, not some hotshot CEO, I know you don’t have this kind of money Baekhyun. I’m not keeping it.” You said, crossing your arms. 
Baekhyun just sighed, scratching the back of his head. He looked annoyed, but also somehow.. sad? 
“I told you there’s a lot you don’t know about me. And I’m not taking it back.” He said staring down at the wad of cash. Obviously he wasn’t taking no for an answer either.
“Baekhyun pleaaase” You looked at him again, giving him your best puppy eyes but he wasn’t having it. His face remained stoic, the only visible emotion was a twinge of what looked like sadness. 
“Y/n...” He sighed again. “I’m going to my office now. You can come with me, or you can take your money and go home.” He said sternly.
You pouted, but picked the money back up, shoved it back in your pocket, and followed him anyway. Eventually he unlocked the door to what you assumed to be his office and he held the door for you to walk in. He sat down at his desk, and you sat across from him on the other side. As you looked around, you couldn’t help but smile at how Baekhyun the office was. The space was very cozy, filled with little trinkets and lots of books, all of which you were sure would make absolutely no sense to you. Everything felt so much like him. He had pictures of him and his friends sprinkled throughout as well, and the room even smelled like his comforting scent. 
You took the wad of cash back out of your pocket and placed it on his desk. He didn’t acknowledge it. 
Once both of you were sitting down, an awkward silence filled the air. Baekhyun was sitting right across from you, but instead of the usual intense eye contact you’d grown accustomed to, he was staring solemnly down at his desk. 
He was the first one to break the silence. 
“My parents died in a freak accident last December.” He said it without looking up at you, eyes still fixated on his desk. “A semi hit them going 20 over. They both died on impact.” 
Your stomach lurched. “Baekhyun wh-”
“Between the two of them they had quite a bit of money. I inherited it. I could quit this job if I wanted to. I have more than I even know what to do with, so just keep the money, please.” 
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know...” Your voice was barely loud enough for Baekhyun to hear. Finally he looked up and you met his eyes. 
“There’s no way you could’ve. I understand why you probably thought what you did but I definitely don’t need it, so keep it.” 
“But-”
“If anything” he interrupted “I feel bad I couldn’t give you more. We were up there longer than what I paid you for but that’s all the cash I had on me and I didn’t wanna have to leave you alone to go to the ATM.” 
“Baekhyun, I...”
“You can go now, sorry if that was uncomfortable but I wanted to tell you before you insisted on giving the money back.” He said, scooting the cash back towards your end of the desk. His expression was once again blank, making it impossible for you to try to figure out what was going on in his head. 
“It’s okay. I’m sorry about your parents.” 
Although he had told you you could leave, you found yourself planted in the chair and against your better judgement, you stayed. Maybe it was the cozy feel of the room, or the comforting smell of old books and vanilla, but you didn’t want to leave yet. 
“Were you really close with them?”
He smiled at your question, and because you were still sitting in front of him, even though you didn’t have to be. 
“Yeah, they were amazing parents. They always supported the things I was passionate about. Lots of parents would get mad at their kid for studying something as useless as philosophy but they always had my back.” He sighed solemnly, the sadness making it’s way onto his face. “You never really learn to appreciate things until they’re taken from you. I should’ve visited them more often, told them I loved them more. Everything I have now is because of them.”
“I’m sure they were really proud of you.” 
“Yeah, luckily I was able to make the best out of my degree. Most people who study philosophy aren’t as lucky and end up doing something totally unrelated. I at least get to teach people about something I’m passionate about.”
“Is that why you keep working here even if you don’t need the money?” 
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “ And I know my parents wouldn’t want me to quit just because of the money. It would also get awfully boring to just sit around at home all day and not work anyway. I like having somewhere to go and feel productive.” He paused for a second, eyes meeting yours again. “And if I wasn’t here I wouldn’t get to see you.” His face turned up into a smile with his last sentence. 
At first his words made you think he was just trying to find an excuse to hit on you, but his face told a different story. His smile was so gentle and welcoming, it didn’t feel like any kind of sexual advance, just his raw emotions. Emotions that he was willing to show you without any filter. Baekhyun had always been so open with his feelings with you, it made you feel even worse for how hesitant you were about your own.
You couldn’t help the pink tint growing on your cheeks at his statement. 
“You’re blushing.” He said, now grinning. 
“Shut up.” You tried to hide your face, but with him sitting directly across from you, staring intently there was nothing you could hide.
“You’re lucky I like you enough to let you talk to me like that, any other student would be in trouble.” 
“So you admit I get special treatment?” You asked, leaning back in the chair and crossing your arms, one eyebrow raised at him. 
Before answering, Baekhyun leaned towards you, resting an elbow on the desk, halving the distance between the two of you. “Sweetheart, I’ve never even spoken to a student outside of campus. Special treatment is an understatement.” 
Your face turned an even deeper shade of red at his use of the pet name, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. 
“Y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked you as casually as one would ask about the weather. Your eyes widened, not at all expecting him to ask such a thing. 
For a moment you just stared at him in disbelief, hoping he’d say something else but his expression remained the same. Eventually you shook your head, but before he could ask you anything more you had your own question for him. 
“What happened with your ex?” 
Immediately his face fell into a deep frown. You’d caught him off guard again, and this time he didn’t quite know what to say. 
“Well...” He said, still pausing to think. “After I got the inheritance from my parents things just changed. All we did was fight about money. She didn’t even seem to care that my parents were dead. She just wanted access to the money. Eventually she realized I wasn’t going to give it to her and she left me.” 
“I’m so sorry, that’s awful.” 
“But that’s how I got to meet you.” He smiled, taking one of your hands in his. “I’m glad she left me when she did, and Chanyeol talked me into going to the club that night.” 
“Baekhyun...” You felt yourself getting scared again. The things he was telling you and the way he held your hand was beginning to feel too intimate, to a point where you were becoming anxious. You felt an unfamiliar sensation blooming in the pit of your stomach. 
“I remember when he pitched the idea to me, I called him a dumbass.” He laughed. “I really didn’t wanna go but he dragged me in there.” 
“Well I’m glad he did too.” You responded shyly, before you could think twice about your own words.  
Now it was Baekhyun's turn to blush. He was already shocked enough that you were willingly staying in his office, hearing you say something that flirty to him sent his mind into chaos. 
“Y/n...” He grabbed both of your hands now, looking into your eyes with that familiar intensity. “Do you.. like me? Not as a customer or a professor, but as a man?” 
He had been wanting to ask you since Saturday night, but couldn’t find the courage. He knew how terrible of an idea it was to be having this conversation with one of his students, but when it came to you all rational thought seemed to fly out the window. He had stayed up all night torturing himself with the thought. He needed to know. 
But you could only stare back wordlessly. Not because you didn’t want to tell him no, but because you couldn’t deny to yourself that you did like him. You just couldn’t get the words out. It was one thing to feel something deep inside your heart. It was another to be able to say it out loud.
Baekhyun quickly noticed your discomfort and withdrew his hands. “You don’t have to answer that, sorry. But you know how I feel about you. I just need to know. Whatever your answer is, whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll accept it. If you want me to leave you be, just tell me and we can act like we never knew each other before last Monday.” 
But you didn’t want that, not at all. Your feelings for him had only grown and you couldn’t see yourself ever going back to only seeing him as your professor. It was too late for that now that you knew what his arms felt like wrapped around you. 
“I know I don’t want that.” You said so quietly, it was almost inaudible. But Baekhyun still heard you.
His eyes widened in surprise, but his smile found its way back into his face as well. “I really hoped you wouldn’t choose that. But whatever you do decide, will be fine by me.” 
“Okay.” You spoke, as you got up out of your chair. “I should go. Thank you for explaining everything.” 
“Don’t forget this” he said, holding the wad of cash. You sighed, and took it from him, shoving it back in your pocket “and thank you for listening.” 
Baekhyun waved you goodbye as you exited his office, shooting you another gorgeous smile that you couldn’t help but return. As you walked back home you felt that same unfamiliar feeling still blooming in your stomach. You tried to ignore it, but it was unmistakable. This is what people were talking about, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you talked to someone you liked. You’d felt it before with past flings and crushes, but never as much as now. 
And the more you let yourself think about it, the clearer it became to you. You were becoming just as fucked for him as he was for you. 
Next Chapter
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taexual · 5 years ago
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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (1)
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        jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.
pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
genre: college au
warnings: strong language, accidents caused by drunk driving (DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, DRIVE WHILE DRUNK OR AGREE TO RIDE WITH SOMEONE WHO’S DRUNK!!!)
words: 4.4k
                       chapter one.
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The music coming from the stage was deafening and headache-inducing but the ambience of the club itself was absolutely energizing, and you kept switching between regretting the decision to come here, and thanking your roommate for convincing you to. Glancing at the girl next to you – she’d already finished her fourth drink and you weren’t sure if she realized it because she seemed to be hypnotized by what she was seeing on stage – you smiled even despite knowing that you’d be stuck helping her battle a killer hangover tomorrow.
“It’s crazy,” Inna said suddenly as if having read your thoughts, “isn’t it? I mean, they’re driving the whole club insane, look at them!”
You did look but not at the band on stage. The second floor of the club provided you with a great view of the first floor and the sight of your heavily intoxicated and barely legal peers dancing so close to the stage, they were nearly on top of it already, distracted you – it always amused you to see the duality of the top students in your class.
“Yeah,” you said. “But Parental Advisory brings the insanity with them wherever they go. I saw some people who brought actual posters to the club.”
“Shit, I should have thought of that,” Inna said, hitting herself on the temple with her palm in disappointment.
“I don’t even get it,” you started and your roommate was already groaning. Even drunk, she could recognize the tone of your voice when you were about to complain. “I mean—”
“Come on, you said you wouldn’t complain!” she whined.
“I said no such thing,” you disagreed, “and I’m not complaining, anyway. I’m just saying how they’re nothing special. Everyone’s only listening to them because they’re the only band on campus.”
Inna looked like she wanted to argue – like she’s done a million times before – but then she decided to let it slide and finish her drink instead.
“You’re only saying that,” she pointed out then, the straw of her cocktail still in her mouth, “because you have a weird prejudice against their lead vocalist.”
You raised your eyebrows with a skeptical scoff. “Jungkook? I don’t have anything against him. I just think he’s an overrated, arrogant asshole.”
Your roommate glanced at the stage again, seemingly losing herself in the performance for a minute, before she agreed to give you the benefit of the doubt, even though she always suspected that there was something more there – she knew you and Jungkook had history and she felt like your open dislike for him was concealing your deeper feelings.
“He may be arrogant,” she said just as Jungkook tossed the towel he’d used to wipe the sweat on his forehead off into the crowd, “but that’s just because he’s aware of how good he is.”
“Or maybe it’s because his dad owns a successful business,” you said, “and he’s just an entitled heir.”
“Sure, that could be a factor. But being an heir wouldn’t make those girls so devoted to him,” she was only half-joking as both of your gazes immediately fell to the side of the stage where a group of girls was already waiting for the performance to be over.
“There’s always a crowd of girls wherever he goes,” Inna continued, her eyes glistening. She chuckled then, “and, let me tell you, word is, they’re never disappointed.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even despite having heard the rumors on campus as well. It wasn’t that the members of Parental Advisory slept around – or maybe they did but they weren’t ones to brag about it – but they knew what to give their audience to make them satisfied. That included their shows on stage and their parties back at their shared house – a notorious place already, known all over campus as the only spot where a party could stay alive and burning all throughout the weekend.
“Do you think his groupies leave reviews?” you slipped into sarcasm without meaning to. “Do they rate his performance on and off the stage out of five stars?”
“No, are you seriou—okay, that’s enough for me. I’m going to get another drink,” Inna stood up, choosing to focus her energy into having a good time rather than trying to get you to see the band from her point of view.
You debated stopping her -- she’s already had more drinks than she could handle -- but the determination in her eyes as she turned around and crossed the room towards the bar stopped you. You didn’t dare to interrupt a woman on a mission.
Finishing your own drink as you waited for her to come back, you took this time to focus on the atmosphere of the club. Despite the fact that Parental Advisory was, obviously, not one of your favorite bands, they did play good music – even if you could already feel a headache creeping in – and, there was no denying, they definitely knew how to put on a show.
You watched Jungkook lean into the crowd with his mic stand, his white shirt almost see-through from his sweat – and everyone who was close enough to touch him went wild. It was almost as if he ignited wildfires inside of them with his eyes – just one look and everyone around him dropped all of their inhibitions and started to live.
You knew of the effect he had on people even before he joined the band as you found yourself reminiscing about all the times you’d listened to Jungkook play a very strained version of Für Elise on his grandfather’s old piano. He’d always look at you after he finished playing and the glitter in his eyes made you feel as though you’ve just listened to the most harmonious melody in the world, even if his family’s cat wouldn’t stop hissing, begging him to stop and get away from the piano.
Somehow, listening to Parental Advisory – even though they favored alternative music and stayed clear of Beethoven – always brought back the memories of Jungkook at the piano. It softened you until you started to understand why every person at the club was completely at his will, responding to his every gesture, and, for a little while, you could relate to them as you followed Jungkook on stage with your eyes.
You didn’t like these memories – they lowered your walls against your will – so you were glad to get distracted by Inna as she plopped back down on her seat next to you, a new drink in her hand.
“Man,” she said and then took a sip, “if I’d brought a poster too, maybe we could have gone to the after party.”
Of course she wanted to go to their after party. When it came to Parental Advisory, after parties were basically a part of their performance, so she couldn’t just leave in the middle of it.
“You can still go even if you don’t have a poster,” you said, already coming up with a plan of how you were going to get home after the final song ended. “It’s not like their parties are exclusive.”
“Well, they sort of are,” Inna said. “It’s different when you just show up to the party. The people who matter arrive with the band. And they usually invite some of the girls with the posters backstage after the show.”
“The people who matter,” you repeated with disgust, “I hope you realize how pretentious that sounds. You’re not a loser if you don’t roll up to the party with the band.”
“It’s—okay, maybe it’s a little pretentious,” she said. “But I’d still like to be a part of that crew. Or, at least, arrive with someone.”
She wasn’t trying to conceal her wistful tone and even if she was, she probably wouldn’t have been very successful, because her wish to get a glimpse into the inside world of Parental Advisory was obvious in her eyes as she watched the band play out the final chords on stage.
Despite dragging you to gigs like this nearly every weekend, Inna was, all things considered, a good friend and you felt like you owed her this one thing because tonight really wasn’t as torturous for you as you may have made it seem.
You still couldn’t help but sigh before speaking to let her know how difficult saying this was for you (all so she wouldn’t expect you to do this every time you went out, really), “I suppose we can go to the party together. I’ll make sure you don’t feel like a loser.”
Her whole face lit up as she turned to you. “Do you mean it? Because I’m too drunk to recognize it if you’re mocking me right now.”
“I mean it,” you said sincerely. “If you don’t mind arriving with me instead of the band.”
“Oh, who cares, the band will be inside,” she dismissed her previous stance immediately, “thank you! I’ll make sure to repay you by getting you a clean cup of beer so as not to repeat my last mistake.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, frowning as you tried to resist the memory of Inna’s last mistake that involved accidentally making a cocktail of beer and tequila and then leaving you to fend for your life as you battled a hangover that seemed to last the whole week.
“Let’s not go there,” you said, “I’ll get my own drinks this time. Or, actually, maybe I’ll stay sober. One of us has to.”
Inna chuckled. “Good! I think it’s a little too late for me to do that.”
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As it turned out, your roommate wasn’t the only one who got drunk way before the after-party started, because, by the time you returned to campus and reached the large building Parental Advisory lived in – courtesy of their rich parents, of course – everyone there was already wasted and in the middle of a very intense game of how-many-stupid-things-can-I-do-in-one-night. The guy who dived head-first from the roof into the jacuzzi in the backyard – no clothes on him whatsoever – must have been winning.
“Did you see that?” Inna laughed, her eyes lighting up like a child’s in the presence of candy. “There’s a reason why people won’t shut up about the parties here.”
“Hmm,” you looked around, more concerned about the girl from your Philosophy class who was attempting to do a keg stand all by herself. “But how do they not have accidents here? Everyone’s drunk out of their—”
“Oh my God, there they are!” your roommate squealed as she stopped walking suddenly and you automatically bumped into her. She turned to you, completely unbothered by the fact that you’d made her spill half of her drink. “Do you want to say hi to Jungkook?”
You lifted your gaze until you saw the four members of the band make their way towards the kitchen – which was, conveniently, directly behind you –  and then scoffed.
“Not at all,” you said as the group approached. “But even if I did, watch how he successfully ignores me.”
But your expectations weren’t met as Jungkook – still mid-laugh about something someone had said to him – stopped right in front of you.
“Oh!” he looked surprised to see you, but not nearly as surprised as you felt when he stopped to talk to you. Inna had stopped breathing as she watched you from the side and, frankly, you thought your lungs had given out, too. “Nice to see you here. Having fun?”
You hadn’t talked to Jungkook in seven years at least – a lucky number, one would think – and now that he was suddenly addressing you again, you weren’t sure if you’d ever learned how to talk at all.
“Sure,” you ended up saying because what else was there to say? “I like what you’ve done with the place. Before the party started, I mean.”
He laughed, giving the space that was once his living room – but was now a dance-floor with a couch that was nearly tipped over by some couple that was making out on it – a good look and then turning to you again.
“Thanks,” he said. “My mom took care of it.”
“Of course,” you let it slip. Acting like you didn’t know him was obviously not going to work because you did know him, and you knew very well that his mother was an interior designer because she was the one that designed your parents’ house, too. “Hope she’s doing well.”
“She is,” Jungkook said but it sounded a lot like the automatic response you’d given him before – “sure, I’m having fun at this party” – and he realized that as he cleared his throat, “she, uh, she’s still in touch with your mom, I guess, yeah?”
“Well, they’re best friends,” you said. Once again, your mouth opened before you could control yourself and every single word came out sounding overly sarcastic and borderline snotty. It was like you were trying to live up to his arrogant nature while he was pretending to be humble. “Anyway, it’s, uh, good to see you, I guess. I’m going to—”
Your eyes were already on Inna – who was no longer as amused by Jungkook as she had been moments ago, and was currently ogling Taehyung, another Parental Advisory member, who was talking to someone a few feet away from her – and you were already in the middle of taking a step past Jungkook and towards her, when he suddenly grabbed your forearm, stopping you.
The act – or, his touch, to be precise – shocked you so much that you turned to him with parted lips but weren’t able to express your surprise out loud.
“Wait, you guess?” Jungkook asked, sounding oddly amused. “So, it’s not really good to see me, then?”
For a moment, you didn’t understand what he was saying at all – because you weren’t thinking what you were saying when you spoke to him – but then you realized and pulled your arm out of his grasp.
“I’ve made small-talk with at least a dozen people I didn’t know before tonight,” you said, “it’s been good to see them all.”
“You know me, though,” he insisted, grinning now. It was like he listened to the sarcasm in your voice but deliberately chose not to hear it.
Still not really sure why he was talking to you now of all times – you’ve been going to the same classes for three years now and there have definitely been opportunities for you two to interact but you both ignored all of them – you figured he was just bored. Doing the same thing every Friday night – performing and then going home to get drunk with strangers who basically worshiped him – was bound to get tiring after a while and maybe he was looking for new ways to entertain himself.
“I knew you,” you clarified, not wanting to become his newest form of entertainment.
He shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the seven years you’d spent not talking. “You still do.”
You scoffed and were clearly about to disagree, so he jumped in before you could.
“We can always catch up,” he said with a nod towards the kitchen. “Let’s get a drink.”
“Why?” you asked. You couldn’t help it, this was too weird.
“Why not?” he countered, ever the opportunist. You didn’t reply. “What’s with the frown? Do you still plan everything out in advance? Should I make an appointment with your secretary before you can agree to get drinks with me?”
You felt the frown he’d mention deepen as your skeptical expression turned into a full-on scowl. You didn’t appreciate being mocked.
“You should,” you said. “But, fair warning, I’m booked until graduation.”
You were already turning to walk away – and noticed that Inna had disappeared – but, once again, Jungkook pulled you right back in by speaking louder.
“Aw, that’s disappointing,” he said in a way that made him sound more excited than disappointed. “Won’t you make an exception for an old friend? You used to.”
You felt goosebumps rise on your skin as he said this but didn’t even attempt to defend yourself. He had always been the exception to everything in your life – no matter how busy with homework you were, no matter how many school events the student council needed your approval for, you always made time for him – and, somehow, that came back to bite you in the ass.
“I haven’t talked to you since we finished middle school,” you said, purposefully not sticking to the day in discussion for too long or Jungkook would have undoubtedly used that against you, too, “lots of things changed. I only make exceptions for the people who matter now.”
Jungkook – who was absolutely going to discuss your middle school graduation in great detail if you’d stopped talking after you mentioned it – grabbed his chest and threw his head back dramatically.
“Ouch,” he fake-moaned, “that’s really cold, you know. I’m just trying to reconnect with you.”
“I think you have more important matters at hand,” you said, finally finding an excuse to walk away – it came in the form of three girls who had appeared by his side, evidently too tired to be waiting for his attention from across the room.
He hadn’t even noticed them at first – which was surprising, considering how strong the scent of their combined perfumes was – but, as soon as he turned his head to finally look at them, you walked away.
Instead of being annoyed by your abrupt exit, however, Jungkook seemed to grow even more amused. This was the first time you’d left him hanging – things really have changed.
“I’ll call you!” he called out across the living room but you didn’t turn back so he assumed you didn’t hear. Sighing, he turned back to the girls by his side. Taking the one closest to him by her hand, he pointed towards the kitchen. “Ladies.”
When you finally turned around to look at him – because you did hear what he’d said – he was already guiding the group of girls into the kitchen and filling their cups. An unexpected sense of disappointment settled in your chest but you tried to shake it off.
He was the one who decided it’d be better if the two of you stopped being friends at the beginning of ninth grade. It couldn’t have taken him seven years to change his mind.
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A loud commotion outside distracted you from the conversation you’d been having with someone who, apparently, lived in a dorm room across the hall from yours – funny how you haven’t even seen each other before tonight – and you both turned to look out of the window.
“What the fuck was that?” you heard Yoongi, another one of Jungkook’s bandmates, ask himself, as he hurried past you. “Is that fucker fighting again?”
Your heart rate picked up as you realized that the “fucker” in question must have been Jungkook. Thinking rationally, you knew you had no reason to go out there and check what was going on, and yet the possibility that Jungkook was in a fight – and not for the first time, apparently! – was enough to send you right after Yoongi, until the two of you stopped in the backyard, both looking around to see what was causing the loud noise.
“Do you see him?��� Yoongi asked you, too drunk – and too busy looking after his lead vocalist – to question why you were outside with him when everyone else settled on watching the scene play out through the windows of the house.
“Why do you think it’s him—oh. Yeah, I see him,” you pointed to a black car parked at the far end of the backyard – clearly, the car belonged to one of the members – and Yoongi saw Jungkook as soon as he turned to look.
Frankly, it was hard not to see Jungkook because he was being unceremoniously thrown on the hood of the vehicle by a guy that was about twice his size. And yet Jungkook seemed so much more aggressive than him as he pushed himself off the car and attacked.
“Fuck,” Yoongi muttered briefly before breaking into a sprint. “Jungkook! Shit, get the fuck away from him. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
Profanities continued to spill from his mouth as he attempted to break the fight up. You found yourself running to catch up with them – which was a blessing for Yoongi because he struggled to hold the other guy back when Jungkook kept throwing himself at him – but you didn’t dare to intervene just yet.
“What are you doing?” you demanded – no one paid any attention – and then cleared your throat before trying again, louder, “Jungkook!”
Still, the boy was far too focused on his opponent – who was being cradled by a huffing Yoongi – so you had no choice but to step in – literally – and place both hands on Jungkook’s chest, pushing him back into the car roughly.
Taken off guard, he stumbled and fell on his back, landing on the hood of the car yet again and nearly taking you with him as he had angrily grabbed your wrists before he fell. He was seemingly ready to push them away before he looked into your eyes.
“Fuck,” he exhaled as soon as your gazes met, his grip on your wrists softening but not disappearing as he held your hands against his chest that moved up and down, his heart beating rapidly under your fingertips.
After waiting until his heart rate slowed down just slightly, you pulled your hands out of his and stepped away so he could stand up from the car.
“What the hell happened?” you asked. You could feel yourself start to shake but it wasn’t due to the chilly evening air.
“He’s being a dumbass again, that’s what happened,” Yoongi snarled, pushing the guy he’d been holding back off of himself and glaring at him and Jungkook both. “You need to get your shit together, man. I’m sick of looking after your sorry ass.”
The last part was directed at Jungkook who groaned, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down. The guy he’d been fighting spat on the ground, gave him one last frustrated look, and returned to the party. Jungkook looked like he was going to yell something at him but Yoongi cursed loudly and gave up right then and there, turning around towards the house.
“I don’t need you to look after me!” Jungkook yelled after Yoongi, who pretended not to hear him as he walked away, and then – much to your surprise – the younger boy threw the driver’s door of the car open.
Confused and seriously concerned, you watched Yoongi leave before turning back to look at Jungkook. “W-what are you—”
“Just go!” he snapped at you as he got into the car.
“You can’t drive!” you protested in panic, grabbing the door before he could close it.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” Jungkook snarled, looking at you with a fire so prominent in his eyes that you ended up letting go of the car door out of sheer surprise. You’d never seen him like this before.
And then, as you turned away from him for just one second, searching for Yoongi – surely, he’d come back to stop him – Jungkook started the engine of the car.
You swore under your breath, knocking on the window of the car but it brought no response from him. “Jungkook! You can’t—”
He said something and you automatically stopped pounding on his window to listen. The engine of the car was drowning out his words and you expected him to lower his window and repeat what he’d said, but Jungkook used the moment when you took an unconscious step away from the car, and pushed the pedal.
You swore loudly as you watched him drive away, running your hands through your hair in desperation. For the next minute, you watched the car maneuver around the front yard clumsily and then drive down the main street. When he disappeared from your field of vision, you pulled your phone out from your back pocket but you didn’t know who to call.
Looking around again, you realized that Yoongi had gone back inside, and suddenly, you weren’t sure what would be faster, calling the police so they’d be on the look-out for a drunk lunatic behind the wheel or finding the rest of the Parental Advisory members so they could hopefully find a better solution.
But before you could reach a decision – it all seemed to happen in a split-second, honestly – you heard a loud crash. With your heart immediately falling down to your stomach and then plummeting all the way down to your feet, you ran across the yard and towards the main street, hoping – praying – that the sound was unrelated to Jungkook.
And yet, as soon as you stopped on the sidewalk and looked down the road, you saw the same black car right there, next to where the road split into an intersection. It had been forced to stop by a lonely lamp post, the view of which was partially blocked by a large tree trunk, but even so, you could tell that Jungkook had slammed the car right into it.
Struggling to breathe, you listened to people pour out of the house. They seemed to be much more alarmed than they’d been when they first heard someone fighting.
You didn’t think you could move.
“Call an ambulance,” you whispered, your eyes glued to the smoke that was coming out in dark, angry swirls from underneath the totaled hood of Jungkook’s car. “Someone needs to call the ambulance!”
Your own phone was lit up with the number of the police that you’d dialed mere seconds ago but you couldn’t find the control in your fingers to press call. Then, you heard cursing and realized that the people from the party weren’t going to help. They didn’t even consider helping.
They were running away. Escaping from the accident which seemed to them like the perfect reason for expulsion from university. They no longer wanted to be a part of the special club that got to arrive to Parental Advisory parties with the members of the band themselves. 
Inhaling deeply, you realized that no one else was going to do this for you, so you finally managed to pull yourself back together again.
You pressed your phone to your ear and with each beep of the dial tone, you cursed the Parental Advisory parties more and more – they were an accident waiting to happen. An accident so awful, it could erase seven years of silence as you hoped Jungkook would be able to talk to you again. 
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frostedfaves · 4 years ago
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Haunt (5)
Masterlist
Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Summary: Wanda can tell you’re losing sleep, but she doesn’t hear the devil trying to make a deal with you.
Warnings: angst, mentions of funerals and grief, ghosts/demons, heavy alcohol use, more angst
A/N: I’m planning on incorporating the blurb that started this story into the next chapter with just a few changes to fit the plot. anyway, I have nothing left to say but to ask for the very least a comment on what you thought about this! these next few parts are what motivated me to write everything that came before it, and I’d just like to hear opinions on it so :)
Previous part
-
A knock on Wanda’s classroom door caused her to look away from her desk with a curious frown, which instantly shifted to a grin at the sight of you. Her jacket and purse were abandoned on her chair as she skipped over, closing the door behind you and turning to pull you into a kiss. Your arms shifted to wrap around her waist, and one of her hands searched blindly to figure out where the weight pressed against her back was coming from.
“You came with food?” she asked as she pulled out of the embrace and moved your arm to bring the large paper bag into view.
“It’s an apology lunch date...for missing the last few walks with Alexei.”
“Thank you, baby.” She left a kiss on the tip of your nose before leading you by your free hand to sit at her desk. “Since you’re here, can you tell me why you missed them?”
“Yes, I can.” Your sudden moment of silence made her pause with a food dish in her hands as she studied your exhausted expression. “Waiting to hear about this promotion has been hell, and I didn’t want you to notice that I wasn’t sleeping because of it.”
“So work has been keeping you busy?” she sighed and you nodded.
“In a way, yes.”
You helped her finish taking everything out of the bag and tried to arrange things on her desk in a way similar to a fancy restaurant, working well with the limited space you had, and Wanda watched on with bright eyes and a heavy heart. A mix of worry and dread swirled together inside of her, knowing that she should trust you more given that you’d opened up a great deal since your sleepover, but also feeling compelled to believe there was more going on with you. Not wanting to ruin the surprise date, she decided to save the discussion for later.
The next few months seemed to pass by at the speed of light, and Wanda’s level of concern over you fluctuated its way into the new year. There were times when you appeared to be more refreshed than ever as you arrived for Alexei’s walks or invited Wanda in for dinner, holding the confidence of a bird that finally mastered flying. On the other side of things, there were days that it was obvious you hadn’t closed your eyes for more than a few minutes during the previous night, which usually accompanied times where you’d simply check out of whatever was happening without warning.
-
School was different without her, much harder. There were stares, and whether they were judgmental or sympathetic, you didn’t know. You couldn’t really tell the difference of anything anymore, now that she was gone. The administrators on the morning announcements and teachers used the words dead and passed away and killed, but to you, she was just gone.
A call of your name had you stabbing into your uneaten lunch with more force now as footsteps accompanied the voice, growing closer until you could sense a presence on the other side of the otherwise empty lunch table.
“May we sit?” 
This time the voice came from her father, the husband of the woman he stood beside, the parents of the girl you’d let down this past weekend. You made the mistake of looking into the bloodshot eyes of two equally broken souls, and one weak nod brought them into the chairs across from you.
“As you know, the service is on Saturday, and we were wondering if you could say a few things that day. Even we didn’t know our daughter quite the way you did.”
“No thanks,” you replied after a bit of hesitation, continuing to poke at whatever had been thrown on your tray this time.
“You’re her best friend! She’d want you to speak at her funeral,” her mother insisted and you snapped.
“I doubt that an eighteen-year-old girl that excited for college was sitting around thinking about who would speak at her funeral.” You took a second to glance around at the new round of staring you’d caused with your outburst before turning back to the grief-stricken parents in front of you. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable coming.”
You moved your tray aside and grabbed your bag from the seat beside you, slinging the straps over your shoulder as you stood. The chair scraped noisily against the floor as you pushed it away from the table, the sound echoing in your mind and following you all the way to your car outside. As you walked, you could hear occasional calls of your name in different tones, and one suddenly stuck out above the rest.
“Baby?”
You blinked rapidly as you felt hands on either side of your face, turning your head to meet the concerned gaze of Wanda beside you on the couch. Your hands gently pulled at hers until her palms were detached from your cheeks, and you kissed the inside of her knuckles with a smile.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about something.”
“I know.” she sighed as she shifted to lie sideways on the couch, wrapping her arms around you as you settled against her chest. “Is this ‘something’ the same reason you haven’t been sleeping again?”
You were slightly dragging your fingers across the tail of her sweater as you rested against her torso, and you froze at her words. Of course, you couldn’t be too surprised when even you were aware that you weren’t doing the best job of hiding it, mainly because you were tired of doing that. It was exhausting keeping the biggest part of yourself from the woman you wanted to share everything with as you found yourself falling in love with her faster than you’d like to admit. So you raised your head to meet her eyes and tell her the entire story, dropping it onto her stomach again when her phone started ringing.
“Hey, Piet--what? Oh shit, really? Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” She hung up with a sigh as she placed her phone on the coffee table with a sigh. “Pietro and Mia were on their way back home and the car suddenly died on them. Do you want to come with me to pick them up?”
“I’m too sleepy to move,” you mumbled as you sat up a bit to let her climb off the couch, flopping down onto the cushions in a dramatic fashion once she stood. “See? Even that took too much effort.”
“Okay, lazy.” She giggled as she leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Don’t walk Alexei without me!”
“I wouldn’t dare!” you called out as she hurried toward the front door with her keys, turning back to the television with a smile when you heard her pull out of the driveway.
Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.
You jumped up as the words were whispered into your ears, rubbing the heels of your palm into your eyes with a loud groan as the phrase repeated endlessly, growing a bit louder each time. Knowing you wouldn’t get any relief until Wanda returned (and maybe not even then), you decided to head to the fridge for a drink, going for a beer and not even flinching when you grabbed three instead.
Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.
“You don’t scare me anymore,” you challenged as you collapsed into the armchair in front of the window, drinking the first bottle in one go and setting it on the floor while maintaining eye contact with the horrific sight across the room.
Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.
“I’ve learned to not give a shit about you when I’m drunk.” You drained the second bottle and sat it next to the first. “And maybe it’s not the healthiest way to cope with all this, but it definitely beats letting you win.”
Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.
You held a hand to your chest as you burped harshly, and you sat still waiting for the slight pain in your chest from a third consecutive beer to go away. You were feeling a bit warm following all that alcohol, but you fight the urge to tear off your sweater, knowing you welcomed a bit of heat more than the chill that surrounded you lately.
Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.
“Go to hell!” you yelled with a bit of a slurred speech, leaning back in the chair with closed eyes and beginning to panic when you suddenly couldn’t open them.
“I can’t hold it, Y/N. My arm is stuck.”
“Stop, please.”
“Is she dead?”
“I’m sorry I yelled, just please stop!” you half begged, half yelled again as you fought to open your eyes.
“The driver was high.”
“I said stop!”
“She’d want you to speak at her funeral.”
You gave up on pleading with the voices in your mind and swirling around it, simply focusing on your breathing and the feeling of tears pouring from the corners of your eyes as you pulled at the upholstery. The phrases repeated in chronological order with an occasional shuffling, but it wasn’t until you heard those four little words join the mix again that you lost it.
Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.
“How do I make it stop?!” you screamed as you finally broke free and sat up again, the small bit of relief you gained fading just as quickly as it appeared when you locked eyes with the source of your nightmares only feet away. You waited in building anticipation for the entity to kill you on the spot or make another terrifying move that would drag you into an even deeper feeling of despair, but you were left a bit surprised when you simply heard two new words.
Go home.
-
Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @cristin-rjd @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @creepingwolfberry @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly @thedragonzland @dylxn-lee @cordeliaswhore @ravvakin96 @leximills2004 @smolgayhooman @ajlawinters @moonlightmadnessxx
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marveldc-imagines-hub · 4 years ago
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That One Valentine’s Day Special (Captions)
Anon said: “Hello!! I saw that your wandavision requests are open and I had to request something! I’m so obsessed with Vis right now, it’s very bad. I can’t think of any specific plot ideas, all I know is that I would really love to see some fluffy Vision just head over heals in love with reader. Kisses, cuddles, all that jazz. Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️”
Anon said: “maybe a request where it’s valentines and the reader and Wanda team up to get really dressed up and make an amazing dinner to surprise Vision, but when he comes home and sees them both he’s so flustered that either like has a shutdown or faints? And then obviously Wanda and the reader panic and spend the evening taking care of him and also teasing him for being so adorable/fainting? Thank you!!!”
A/N: Combined aspects from both of these requests to make an ooey gooey Valentine’s Day special (which got belated because I lost half of the writing when I transferred it from doc to Tumblr post :’D)!
Don’t think this is the type of dressed up you meant but I hope you like it, either way! The type of nightwear I was going for with Wanda was something like this.
Subtitles/Captions Masterlist
Tip Jar
Word count: 7,117
Warnings: Valentine’s Day sap. Lingerie, passionate kissing, and everyone being flirty (nothing graphic). Reader makes a really, really, just terrible pun in order to compliment Wanda. This was edited very late at night, so there might be a few errors.
Tag list: @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend (These were the only two on the tag list who confirmed that they wanted to be tagged in everything WandaVision-related; if anyone else on the Subtitles list does, just let me know!)
~~~
“Hey, Wanda?” You hollered to the woman in the other room. You were standing in front of the mirror in the Maximoff bathroom, adjusting the collar of the somewhat too-big shirt you wore.
“Yes, dear?” Your girlfriend hollered back from a couple of rooms away.
“While I definitely get the why we’re doing this,” you continued, tugging the shirt’s shoulders farther to one side, then back to the other, before giving up and moving onto your hair, “with Valentine’s Day and all, you know--”
Wanda piped up, probably to assure you that she was listening more than anything, “Yes, I do.”
You snorted. “--but is there a reason we’re doing so… much?” 
As you spoke, you ran your hands through your hair, ruffling it to give it a bedhead type of look. You faltered a bit when your eyes settled on the ugly scar on your forehead that your hair couldn’t cover without being in a bizarre style. You frowned and dug a finger into the scar tissue, feeling very little other than mild pressure when you did so. 
There was a pause on Wanda’s end. “You don’t think he deserves it, working so hard this past week?”
You reeled back, insecurity forgotten, and quickly left the bathroom. You walked down the hall to where Wanda was working on her own outfit in the bedroom she shared with Vision, rambling away, “No, no, no! I mean no as in no, you’re wrong, not as in he doesn’t deserve what we’re doing. Of course, he does! To be completely honest, he probably deserves it more than anyone in town--aside from yourself, of course--but… For example, we did a lot revolving around food and… Vis doesn’t eat.”
There was another pause and you halted by the closed bedroom door, mainly to pick a rose petal from where it stuck itself to the bottom of your stockinged foot but also because you didn’t want to walk in on your partner.
“But Valentine’s Day revolves around food quite a bit, doesn’t it?” Wanda said from the other side of the door. At this point in your relationship, you could pick up pretty easily how Wanda was feeling by her tone of voice. She spoke thoughtfully, which wasn’t all that concerning, but there was a certain edge to her voice that made you worried; she was going to start overthinking and scrapping the entire idea if you didn’t interfere soon. 
You tilted your head from one side to the other while considering her statement before giving a nod she couldn’t see and responding, “I suppose you’re right there. Lots of holidays do, now that I think about it. Thanksgiving? Turkey. Easter? Candy. Christmas? Just… food in general.”
You glanced around as you spoke. You couldn’t see much of the house from where you stood in the hallway but you knew what to expect when you walked to the main part of the house. All of the house’s lights were off, save for a few lamps that washed the house with what would have been a low, cozy, get-comfortable-before-bed sort of light if Wanda hadn’t used her powers to turn the lightbulbs in said lamps from yellow to a red; because of this change, the dim light gave off a much more romantic energy that fit with the rest of your and Wanda’s decorating. Red, pink, and white rose petals were scattered all across the floor, starting from the front were, where Vision would be when he walked in after work and making a trail to different rooms of the house. One path led to the kitchen and dining area, where you and Wanda had spent a good part of the day preparing various sweet, Valentine’s Day- and romance-themed treats plus dinner and setting up the table with candles and flowers and a pink tablecloth that matched the pink rose petals. Another led to the living room, which was decorated in a similar nature. Thanks to Wanda’s ability to conjure, she was able to quickly clean up the area that was usually hidden under a mess of baby equipment, change the color of the throw pillows and blankets to the correct red and pink theme, and even had “floating” heart decorations that danced across the ceiling on transparent strings; the babies themselves were gone for the night, safe under Agnes’s care once she and you had been able to convince Wanda. Finally, a rose path, accompanied by ceiling hearts, led down the hallway until it made a fading stop at where were you currently stood, leaning next to the bedroom door. The bedroom itself wasn’t decorated and neither of you had really talked about the assumptions that could be made from looking at the trail, but what you had discussed was how many romantic movies Wanda was going to project onto one of the walls after dinner while cuddling would most certainly take place on the couch.
The third path was mainly to guide you down the hallway while Wanda greeted Vision from the kitchen. It was also to lead Vision to go change into his own set of comfy pajamas when you and Wanda would ultimately have to push him to do so after him grumbling about too tired to do so.
Poor thing, you thought while pushing yourself away from the wall. 
Being the company’s fastest and best worker, Vision had become victim to Mr. Hart doubling his workload and as a result, the gentleman had been working like a dog for the entire past week. His days had consisted of getting up way too early only to go into work and be worked to the bone, then come home and relieve Wanda of the babies--regardless of her assuring him that she’d be fine while he rested--until he passed out on the couch sometime later into the night. You’d been surprised, after learning of his synthezoid identity, that he’d need to sleep at all but you supposed anyone would need to recharge after a day like that.
You, on the other hand, had racked up some vacation days and, after a chat with Wanda about the upcoming romantic holiday, decided to add an extra day to your weekend so the two of you could do something nice for her husband. You’d probably regret this on Monday but for now, you were just happy to have spent the day working with Wanda and were hoping the rest of the night went well. 
Speaking of the woman, Wanda had been quiet for some time now, other than the sounds of rustling fabric. You decided now was a good time as any to get involved before she decided that she should do something completely different and cause all the previous work to go to waste, so you knocked. After getting a verbal invitation, you strolled in, only for a sharp inhale to almost propel you back to slam into the doorframe.
Wanda was standing in front of a full-length mirror against the far wall of the bedroom, anxiously fiddling with what little clothing she had on. She wore what looked like a bathing suit but was made out of a sheer, body-hugging, baby pink fabric and embellished with a subtle pattern of roses. Her back was turned to you but you could see from the mirror’s reflection that the piece still left plenty to the imagination with a more opaque version of the same fabric keeping her chest, the bit of fabric held snugly between her thighs, and even an upsidedown V-shaped panel that was framed by silky white bands and reached from the middle of her torso to the lower part of her hips covered. This lovely piece, clothing an even lovelier woman, was paired with similarly colored stockings of the same fabric, minus the rose pattern, and you were both surprised and amused by the addition of a string of pink pearls around her neck and one wrist with matching earrings and a pair of white low heels with a bow on the toe strap. Wanda’s hair was styled in loosely curled waves, making it look shorter than it actually was, and pushed back with a headband that could be mistaken for a minimal tiara, which was also embellished with pink-tinted pearls.
You knew that you were staring, flushed, and with eyes almost bulging out of their sockets--you knew only because you could catch part of your own reflection in the mirror, not because you could feel anything other than goosebumps-inducing tingles travel across your body--but it took Wanda laughing softly and catching your eye in the mirror to pull your slacked jaw off the floor and close your suddenly dry mouth. You eventually also tried to speak but not much other than a stammering “Uhhh…” came out and you gave up, instead choosing to scrub your hands over your face so you would at least look away.
Then Wanda dared to ask, “So, do I look okay?”
You stared at her again but this time it was one of disbelief. “I’m sorry, what?”
Wanda rolled her eyes and chuckled again at your utter belief before nervously running her hands down along a perfect set of curves. You fully believed she had no intention of torturing you by doing so but here she was, doing just that. If it hadn’t been for the awkward look on her face, makeup-free except for light lipstick and a little mascara, your gaze probably would have stayed with the path her hands made over her stomach and down to rest on her hips. You watched her gaze jump worriedly from one part of her body to the other instead.
“Look,” she continued, “I know I look okay, I know I look fine--”
Fine? Only fine? If Wanda asked you to strip naked and run through Westview while screaming her praises, you would do so without a second thought. Well, you probably would have done it regardless of what she was wearing but you wouldn’t be complaining about the extra bit of help.
“--but ever since the twins were born, I feel a little… hmph… wearing something like this.”
While you couldn’t possibly fathom how she could see herself as anything but one of the most beautiful living creatures ever, but you’d also figured out quite a while ago that she didn’t exactly see herself the same way you did. You chewed the inside of your cheek a bit before walking over and wrapping your arms around her; her own hands settled to rest on top of yours. You rested your chin on her shoulder and met her gaze in the mirror one last time.
“I suppose even goddesses have their insecure days, huh?”
Wanda laughed and rolled her eyes so hard you were vaguely worried about them rolling back into her skull. She lightly slapped your arms but still leaned back into your embrace as she scoffed, “Be quiet.”
“Wanda,” you said, “you had kids. You still look great. You look so good. So, so, so good. Insanely good. Earth-shakingly good. So pretty. Very gorgeous. Amazingly foxy. Incredibly stellar. Your mom body? Could demolish Aphrodite in a beauty pageant.”
You rambled on a bit longer before Wanda was smacking your arms again. She looked more at ease now, though, completely relaxed in your arms with her head leaning into the crook of your shoulder and one ankle loosely crossed over the other. 
“Mom body.” She snorted. “Please, enlighten me further about this mom body I have.”
You quickly shook your head and gave her reflection a warning look. “Can’t. If I say much more, it’ll upset the gods. Every single one of them. I’ll be thrown into the pits for all the sinful things I’d have said.”
Wanda’s head fell back as she laughed again; you felt the tickle of her hair against your exposed neck as you grinned against her shoulder. When she settled again, you gave her a serious look, moved your lips to kiss the shell of her ear, then muttered, “But let’s just say you’re a foxy mama in absolutely every sense of the word.”
The woman in your arms erupted with laughter once more, though this time it was short and accompanied by a gentle slap to the cheek. Then her hand rested there, holding your head close as she leaned her forehead partially against yours. 
“You and my husband,” she said with a little shake of her head, “and those ridiculous puns of yours.”
    You nodded slightly in agreement, then tilted your head to peck her cheek. “That one really was just…”
    “Awful?”
    “Yeah, no, not good.” You chuckled and reached a hand up to poke her cheek. “Made ya smile though.”
    Wanda hummed, squinting at herself in the mirror, then huffed. “I suppose.”
    There were a few moments of the two of you just holding each other and soaking up each other’s presence.
    Then Wanda just had to ask again, “Do you really think I look okay?”
    It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Wanda! You’re so pretty! You’re so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so--”
    “You tell me I’m pretty all the time,” she pointed out.
    “I have yet to be wrong,” you countered.
    She looked herself over again. Tilting her head and glancing up at you from under her lashes, she said, “You could call me sexy.”
    “I could,” you agreed, “Don’t want to make you uncomfortable though.”
    Wanda raised a brow. “Did I not just say you could?”
    You snorted. “Was my foxy mama joke not enough? Do you know what havoc me doing so would release onto the world? Would you want the gods to reject me because of my filthy language?” You leaned your head into her neck while keeping your eyes on hers. You waggled your eyebrows and lowered your voice. “‘Cause I’ll do it.”
    Wanda made a face at you, scrunching up her nose and pursing her lips in the special, incredibly cute way that only she could. Then she smiled and ruffled your hair slightly. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind you calling me sexy once.”
    “Oh, nay,” you insisted, “if it happens once, it shall happen a million types! An unholy, unhinged, affectionate monster shall be released from its mortal prison!”
    Wanda hummed thoughtfully and made a show of tapping her chin and tilting her head. “Okay, deal.”
    You rolled your eyes and smiled. Giving her cheek another quick smooch, you said simply back, “‘Kay, you’re sexy.”
    She smiled back at you and did a single clap. “Yay.”
    “And, hey,” you said, tapping the scar on your forehead, “even if you weren’t a level of beauty that matched an immortal otherworldly being--impossible--at least you don’t have a scar on your face.”
    You saw Wanda’s gaze soften in the mirror before she twisted around in your arms to face you. She gently took your face in her hands and your eyes fluttered shut as she leaned up to kiss you directly on said scar.
    “I like the scars,” she said softly, “It means you survived something, even if you don’t know what it was, and I’m happy that you did.”
    Your eyes blinked back open. “Why?”
    “You wouldn’t be here for me otherwise.” 
    You huffed out a little breath, somewhat involuntarily, and were suddenly very aware of the fact that you two were practically tangled around each other now. You squished your nose against hers in a nuzzle and said in a lower tone, “Lucky you then.”
    She dropped her hands from your face to wrap her arms around your neck. She matched your tone and bumped her nose back against yours, tilting her head a bit. “Very lucky.”
    It was almost like a mutual decision when your lips crashed against each other. 
Having been prone to the feeling of floaty dizziness as a result of your migraines, the feeling itself wasn’t particularly jarring. What replaced the usual undercurrent of pulsing pain, however, was what made this dizziness feel heavenly instead of hellish. When you kissed Wanda, it was like immediate intoxication but instead of booze, it was the taste of the gloss on her lips and the strawberry flavor that still lingered on her tongue from your cooking session earlier that day and the mix of citrusy sweetness from her perfume and shampoo that made you think of candied orange slices whenever you inhaled. You’d always be too busy to mentally describe it while in the moment, far too concentrated on committing whatever part of Wanda’s body that you were touching to memory via your grazing fingertips and adding new scents, words, feelings, images, and whatever else to the catalog of things that reminded you of her in your head, but when you thought about the love-drunk dizziness that followed the initial intoxication after the fact, you equated it to being a little tipsy and stumbling into a warm home. Only this time, home was a woman whose arms and mouth kept drawing you back for one more kiss, and then five more, and the thing that made you tipsy was the way the air crackled with invisible electricity and magic, and the look in her eyes when your eyes fluttered open after parting. 
While time seemed to slow to a stop during your and Wanda’s moment, it hadn’t actually done so at all. This was proven when you heard the front door begin to open, causing you and Wanda to practically leap away from each other. She stared at you with wide, startled eyes and you couldn’t help but note your handiwork; her entire face and neck were flushed a deep red, her hair was significantly messier than it had been previously, that the lip color she’d been wearing had been partially transferred to your mouth.
The admiration could only last a moment. “You’re supposed to be in the kitchen.”
“I’m supposed to be in the kitchen,” Wanda repeated. “My lipstick is all over your face.”
You brushed a thumb over your bottom lip and it came away with a glossy pink. “Your lipstick is on my face.”
Wanda stood in front of you, suddenly frozen except for flitting eyes and hands grasping at the air while she tried to think of something. Then, with a couple of snaps of her fingers, she remembered her magic a moment later. “Oh, I can just-- You look amazing, the shirt’s a nice touch. See you out there!” She snapped once more and disappeared in a puff of red smoke just as you heard the front door swing open and Vision’s voice drifted down the hallway.
“Darling, I’m ho-- Oh.”
Then Wanda’s voice also bounced back your way from where she was probably now perched in the kitchen. Her tone was one part frazzled, two parts cheery, and five parts flirty teasing as she spoke. “Hiya, honey! Whaddya think?”
You drew your attention from their voices to the mirror that you now stood in directly in front of. The outfit you wore wasn’t nearly as polished as Wanda’s, but it had its intimate charm. While the two of you both wore stockings, that was where the similarities stopped. Your stockings were a sheer brownish-black and you wore no form of shoes with them nor any other accessories aside from your lightly ruffled mess of hair. In contrast to Wanda’s overall body-shaping attire, the pair of high-waisted silky shorts that you wore were flowy and loose, and instead of the shorts’ matching tank top with uncomfortable lace straps, you wore one of Vision’s pajama shirts that was a similar shade of red with vertical yellow and dark brown stripes. Posing a couple of different ways for yourself in the mirror, you were pleased to find the red and yellow were an almost match to Vision’s skin and the glowing gem in his forehead; with a little more pondering, you were a tad upset that the shirt you were wearing had yellow stripes instead of yellow spots.
If it had spots, you thought, I could look like a strawberry with a thigh-high chocolate dip.
Pleased with your look otherwise, you aimlessly moved about the bedroom before hovering around the doorway where you could almost make out the rest of Vision and Wanda’s conversation. The plan in place was that Wanda was going to give Vision the itinerary for the night--gifts and cards, dinner, because there was food to be eaten whether Vision ate any or not, an indoor movie theater that Wanda would magically whip up, and the rest of the night spent in romantic snuggling bliss--and then would give you a cue. When the actual process of getting the gifts came about, you were to bring said items to the living room, being somewhat of a surprise gift for Vision in your own right. You glanced towards the bed, where a white clothing box wrapped in a red ribbon sat with a trio of cards, one each from you and Wanda and one Wanda had made on behalf of the twins, who were still too young to do much on their own.
You couldn’t be sure whether it was because Wanda had slipped up and mentioned you--it was much harder to hear them from the other part of the house after their loud introductions finished--or if Vision, clever and curious man that he was, had caught on to your and Wanda’s plan already and decided to uncover it ahead of time. Either way, you suddenly caught a glimpse of Vision turning down the hallway, hovering a few inches off the ground to probably preserve the rose petal trail underneath his feet, and jumped away from the doorway before he could see you. While you couldn’t quite make out what Wanda was saying, you could hear a slight strain in her voice as she tried to get Vision to back down from his cause, to no avail. You only had a few moments to think of something and you decided to hop onto the bed and get comfortable in a casual sitting position, moving the small stack of Valentine’s Day goodies and looking coolly off to the side just before Vision floated into the room.
The soft thud of Vision landing on his feet your attention back over to the doorway and you saw him standing there rigid in his work suit, his gaze roaming over you before respectfully glancing away--only to be slowly dragged back less than a minute later. After watching this process continue a couple more times, you decided to tease him.
“Oh, hey there, crimson toaster oven,” you quipped nonchalantly, reaching up to toy with a stray piece of hair as you did, “how was work?”
Vision’s eyes settled on yours as you watched him with a cocked head. You expected some sort of reply, and for a moment he seemed like he was about to speak. Instead, though, he settled into an almost completely frozen state, jaw clenching slightly.
At first, you were amused. Then you realized he was quite literally frozen, nothing moving aside from the whirling of gear-like shapes in his irises, and your facade broke down a bit.
“Vis?” you questioned, sitting up straighter and moving the Valentine’s Day gifts aside, “you okay?”
No response.
You frowned and got up to walk over to him. “Um, Wanda?”
The Sokovian woman appeared a moment later shimmying around Vision’s form to stand next to you.
“Is he okay?” you asked.
“Oh, dear,” Wanda murmured. You watched as her gaze turned red and she looked him over, using her powers to check that his internal functions were still working properly. Eventually, her gaze stopped at his face and after squinting at him, Wanda said, “Ah. [Y/N], it appears we broke him.”
“I’m sorry?” you choked, “Broke him?”
Wanda seemed much less worried than you felt about the implications of Vision being some form of broken. She instead smiled and stepped up to him, giving you a simple “Yep” before pressing her fingers to his temples. Her eyes flashed red again and a second later Vision’s body sagged into a much more human position. “There we go.”
You blinked and watched as Vision shook himself out, flapping his hands and then rotating his arms and neck with a grumble. 
“Ah,” he said, “much better.”
You eyed him. “Everything’s chill then? His gears got, ah, de-gummed, so to speak?”
Wanda snickered. She was now tucked against Vision’s side and helping him shimmy out of his jacket.
Vision seemed to remember where he was and what was going on because his eyes flitted from Wanda to you and back. When he settled a bit more, he looked at you both in turn, his gaze making a slow, deliberate path down both your and Wanda’s bodies as he took in what each of you wore. Finally, his eyes jolted back up to meet yours, and he responded in a low, gravelly voice, “Well, right now, I’m doing absolutely marvelously.”
You grasped that everything was back on track again and a smirk graced your face. “Well,” you said, clapping your hands together and turning back towards the bed, “as long as the short-circuit didn’t fry anything, the step of the night is gifts.”
Then you were being dragged back to Vision’s side by your wrist and he had an arm around both your and Wanda’s waists. “Now, just hold on there, [Y/N]. Shouldn’t I get to spend some time with my lovely partners, especially after seeing all the effort they’ve put in? Besides, I haven’t even gotten to compliment you about your looks.” He paused and pressed a kiss to Wanda’s temple, then nuzzled the side of your neck. When he moved his head away again, he eyed the way your shirt hung loosely off your shoulders. “Is that my shirt?”
You and Wanda shared an amused glance. She’d told you earlier that day about the anniversary-Hart family dinner mishap she and Vision had had when they’d first moved to Westview, the same day you’d met the couple, and how Vision and the Harts had come home to Wanda wearing an intimate nightdress that had made Vision more than a little flustered; the story is what sparked the idea for the evening’s current attire. She ignored his comment about you wearing his clothes and decided to nudge him back to the plan as hand, brushing a hand over the suit jacket now hanging from her arm. “I don’t know about that, honey, your eyes were certainly saying something.”
Vision pouted and hummed, probably trying to come up with another reason to keep hugging you and Wanda close to his body. After a moment, he chirped, “Ah, well! I brought you each something and something for the boys, and I left everything out in the living room. We can’t open gifts without all of them, what a pity. We might as well--”
“I have an idea.” Wanda interrupted. When you looked from Vision to her, she was still smiling but her eyes sparked with a playful warning. She freed herself from Vision’s hold, much to the tall man’s dismay, and walked over to the bed. She picked up the cards and tucked them under the arm that also held Vision’s jacket, then brought the clothing box over and held it out to you. “How about I go and make sure the food is warmed up and the table is set, then get all the cards and things into one place while, [Y/N], you give Vision the one gift he should still have.”
You raised a brow as you took the box from her and watched her saunter to the door, consciously moving out of Vision’s range. “You don’t want to see him open it?”
“I saw you open one I bought for you, you get to see the one you bought him,” Wanda said simply. “And I have a feeling that we’re better off if we’re not all in the same room until things get back on track, Vision might run the risk of shutting down again.”
You gasped dramatically and pressed your free hand to your cheek. Looking at Vision with wide eyes, you whispered, “How will I warm my bagels?”
Vision narrowed his eyes and made a grumbling sound from so deep in his chest you could feel the rumble where you were still held against him. Said sound and Vision’s overall reaction so far made you perfectly happy with the idea of the night derailing a bit off course, but you knew how much of a stickler Wanda could be when she made a plan and this was just as much a night for her as it was for Vision or you. 
With no further objections, Wanda walked out of the room. The heels she wore gave her a sashaying step and neither you nor Vision were particularly upset as the two of you watched her go. Then the door was shut and you two were alone. 
“So,” Vision said slowly as he turned his attention fully to you, “this is what you’ve been up to instead of going to work today.”
“It is indeed,” you confirmed, “and before you say anything else, I know full well what I’ll be getting into when I go in on Monday.”
“I hope so. You’ll be working harder than I have all week.”
You hummed and chewed on your lip as you thought. “Maybe… I could just… quit my job…”
“Hah!” Vision laughed and waggled a finger at you. “No, no, no, no, no. If I have to endure it, then so do you.”
You grinned and turned away from his finger as if to avoid his complaint. He chuckled and tried to catch your eye, rambling away about Oh, the work we shall both do, but you merely twisted away further, feigning beautiful, blissful ignorance. You even went so far as blocking Vision’s face from your sight with the box you held, which made Vision break off briefly to laugh again.
“--and then, maybe someday you will come home,” Vision continued, catching you in his arms again and tugging you close to him, “and see both of your partners, looking very fetching and being even more wonderful than usual because they’ve set up and entire romantic evening, not only because it’s a romantic holiday but because they specifically wanted to plan something to help you relax after a particularly busy week.” He paused, then added, “And it might even be a little better for you than it will be for me because you actually get to eat the food that’s taken up the entire kitchen.”
You tittered, tilted your head in mock thought even though Vision couldn’t see it, and then lowered your chipboard shield just far enough for your eyes to poke out from over it. “Mm, now that does appealing. Just one question though.”
“Of course, darling.”
You waggled your brows at him. “Which outfit will you be wearing, Wanda’s or mine?”
Vision smirked just slightly but it was enough to set off a volcanic eruption of heat throughout your entire body. You felt his fingers suddenly brushing against yours as he started to gently pry his gift out of your hands.
He said, “Depends on what’s in the box.”
He snagged the box from your hands, revealing your blushing face, but instead of opening it right away, his arm moved around your waist to be with the other once more. He pressed his forehead against yours and you felt a different sort of warmth as the golden gem in his forehead touched your skin. He tilted his head closer still to nuzzle his nose against yours then--
You quickly turned your head away again, flashing him a wicked grin when he stared at you, dumbfounded. You draped your now free arms loosely around his neck, fingered brushing lightly against his neck and fiddling with the collar of his button-up shirt. You shuffled closer to him to eliminate what little space left there was between your body and his, looked him in the eye, and teased, “Careful now, Mr. Maximoff. Wouldn’t want to knock another screw loose in that gorgeous, handsome head of yours.”
Vision’s low chuckle vibrated in his chest, feeling almost like a purr against your own body.
“Or,” you added, “knock one too many screws in?”
“[Y/N].”
“Wind the gears too tight?”
“[Y/N].”
You looked at him innocently; the irritated scowl on his face was contradicted by the mischievous twinkle in his pretty blue eyes. “I can keep going.”
“Oh, I’m very aware of that,” said Vision in that grumbling voice that would probably make you implode every time if it were his regular speaking voice, “but we are never going to get out of this room.”
“Interesting hypothesis,” you said with a very serious nod. “You are welcome to test it or stop me at any time. Now, where was I?”
It took a smirk and a raised brow to kick Vision back into gear but then you were grabbing his face and laughing against his mouth as he all but threw himself at you.
Kissing Vision was quite different than kissing Wanda, although no less addictive. Wanda’s kisses always felt needy but not in the way that one would think. Her kisses always felt like she had been lost up until the very moment your lips would touch hers, and then she was finding refuge and trying to absorb every bit of warmth and comfort that came from the way her mouth melded against yours before the kiss ended and she was alone and lost again. She almost always felt soft and sweet against you but you could feel a wild, restrained power brewing just underneath, and her power seemed to draw out and entangle itself with a power of your own, whatever that power was; the kisses never seemed to last long enough for you to figure that piece out.
When you kissed Vision, you could never get the idea that you were kissing someone not totally human out of your head, but in the best way. One of your favorite things to do whenever you kissed him was to run your hands over his skin and explore every single uniquely intricate thing about him, like the way his skin somehow felt soft and dense at the same time and how it was just slightly textured with lines and grooves that felt inhuman or the way that he didn’t really have a heartbeat or a pulse but rather a gentle constant rumbling of whatever gave him life doing its job, and sometimes this rumbling would jolt or slow depending on where you focused your ministrations. No matter his current state of being--exhausted, flustered, distressed--he was always strong and steady under your hands like he was ready to catch you if you suddenly misstepped or fly you to safety at a moment’s notice should the need arise. You couldn’t help equating the way his mouth worked against yours with the phrase “built to please”; he was always curious and searching in the way his hands and mouth roamed, and he seemed to get the most pleasure when he figured out exactly what you needed and did that--and he was much more often than not oh so very right. 
While Wanda felt wild, Vision felt grounding. When you were kissing Wanda, you were so focused on her body and yours and the energy that wrapped the two of you up in a magical cocoon that you felt like you could start bursting at the seams at any moment. Kissing Vision got you much more out of your head, to the point where you were merely exploring him as much as he was you, which led to the occasional knocking of teeth or finding a ticklish spot that caused the kiss to break into giggles and teasing; maybe you would go back to kissing or maybe the two of you would slip into a conversation so seamlessly that you wouldn’t even notice until a couple of hours had already passed. 
You often wondered if, when you weren’t around and your partners kissed each other, if either of them felt the same thing that you did. You wondered even more often how Wanda and Vision felt kissing you.
This time, though, it was Wanda’s voice from a couple of rooms away, muffled but noticeable, that finally broke the two of you apart. 
“Any day now,” she hollered, although there was no trace of irritation in her tone. “It’s not like we only have a few hours left to celebrate Valentine’s Day or anything.”
Vision’s face scrunched up and he eyed the wall that separated the kitchen and bedroom via another room in between. “Mm, she’s got a point.”
You pursed your lips and squinted at the wall as if you would see red magic permeating it if you did so for long enough. “Do you think she X-rayed us?”
Your partner let out a short little chortle as he disentangled himself from you and looked over the box he’d managed to hang onto during your kissing session. “Even if she did, not like it’s going to be any different once we’re all in the same room together.”
“Good point,” you said. “Mm, more kisses.” You were still curious, though, so you hollered back to Wanda, “Hey, magical girl, did ya see me kiss your husband?”
All you got was a laugh back, which had you smiling. 
Then you turned back to Vision, who was toying with the box’s bow, and said, “Alright, Vis, happy Valentine’s Day. Now give me your tie and your pants.”
You and Vision joined Wanda in the dining area shortly, Vision now dressed in a dark blue set of silky pajamas that matched your own shorts of the same shimmery fabric. Wanda had lit the candles not only at the dinner table but also around the rest of the house and she’d set proper places for three at the dinner table, although only two of the places had been served with simple dinner and various sweet, gaudy treats. After the three of you sat, Wanda gave Vision his cards: a beautifully designed one with a poem on the front and a lengthy handwritten letter on the inside from Wanda, a handmade one with bad Valentine’s Day puns and flustered ramblings all over it from you, and a “hand-drawn” one from Tommy and Billy that had really been drawn childishly by Wanda again as the babies were still too young to do so themselves. As he’d mentioned earlier, Vision had gifts of his own, which included a Valentine’s Day cupcake of your favorite flavor that he had snuck from work for you, cards and flowers for each of you, and a pair of inversely colored, Valentine’s Day themed stuffed puppies for the twins. With Tommy and Billy mentioned, Vision questioned their whereabouts and was surprised that Wanda had even let them out of her sight, though somewhat appreciative.
Dinner was next and went fairly quickly. You and Wanda ate a late dinner while the three of you conversed, mainly about Vision’s day and overall week but also you and Wanda explaining how you’d planned and prepared for the date without Vision being any the wiser. Vision made a comment that he, as an incredibly smart individual with a very expansive range of knowledge, should have noticed something sooner, which led to another bout of teasing from primarily you about how he’d fried his batteries when he saw his partners dressed up in pretty clothing and one of his shirts. Then topic conversations bounced around aimlessly for the rest of the time until both you and Wanda had cleaned your plates and even helped yourselves to some of the other goodies. Vision absolutely refused to let either of you do cleanup work, so you convinced Wanda to go change into something a little comfier--“At least take off those pearls and heels. Don’t really mind the rest of the outfit, though.”--and then went over to prepare the living room for movies by bringing over a few more treats to snack on, cleaning off an area for Wanda to magically project movies on the wall without clutter, and turning the couch into less of a decorative scene and more of a nest of red, white, and pink pillows and blankets.
Finally, the three of you settled onto the couch with Vision in the middle. That wouldn’t last for long, though, as you each grabbed a blanket or pillow and shifted yourselves into a big, fluffy, snuggle pile. You and Wanda managed to end up squished between Vision’s arms, where both of you could comfortably rest your heads on his chest. You could also slip an arm around Wanda and absentmindedly run your fingertips underneath the hem of the pajama shirt she now wore--another of Vision’s; it was a light blue and white striped button-down--and over the rose patterns of the sheer fabric hugging her hips. Instead of starting the movies right away, the three of you laid in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company.
Vision briefly had to unwrap his arms to stretch and yawn, the yawn something that wasn’t entirely necessary for him. After placing them back, he murmured, “We don’t normally celebrate these types of things, do we, Wanda?”
Wanda’s eyes fluttered open; you had been watching her lay in quiet, cozy peace and she smiled sweetly at you when she caught you. “Goodness, no. We’ve proven time and time again we’re not exactly the remembering type when it comes to holidays. Holidays, events--”
“Anniversaries,” you offered with a little grin. “Especially those that coincide with meetings with bosses.”
Vision groaned softly. “A minor disaster.”
“Ended well though,” Wanda pointed out.
“And provided the idea for this whole thing,” you added.
Vision hummed thoughtfully and you felt his hand run down your back. “That so?”
“You getting flustered over sexy nightwear?” you said. “What potential.”
Wanda snickered. “What potential indeed. We broke the man.”
“Well,” Vision grumbled, his arms tightening slightly around both of you, “I assure you I’m doing fine now.”
You whispered into his chest, “Only because Wanda put on a shirt.”
Your trio broke into tired chuckles, which then faded into warm silence. It continued for a few moments before Vision pointed out that the movie-watching part of the night didn’t necessarily need to happen.”
That you sitting up and reaching for a movie list you’d compiled much earlier in the day.
“We must watch at least one movie,” you demanded, “and that movie is Grease.”
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