#WAIT I FORGOT THE CIGARETTES

[junebright0]

Doffytober Day 9: Family 💖

Someone ( @beefcakelesbian ) wanted to see all 3 of them with their sunnies so Mr. Prince is getting enveloped by the Donquixotes here. Soft family moment ✨ (not intended as ship art)

Thanks for the idea beefy !

Aaaaaand I heard it's Doffytober :)

Ps @kokokoula I did a mini gif w/ Rosi :)))

[jubmato]

a half-assed cquackity for your troubles

ive been totally unable to find any active normalguy dsmp discord servers recently. so ive decided to do it myself. ive gotten about 90% of it set up over the past couple days. just need to finish up a couple cosmetic things. would anypony be interested in that, orrrrrrrr..??

[eethend]

nicotine withdrawals and a roommate playing tik toks at full volume at 11:30 pm who will win

[nemesyaaa]

buffalo 66' au ! old!serial killer!rafe x young!sugardoll!reader (how they met, and their first night together.)

you were red and you liked me 'cause i was blue. but you touched me and suddenly i was a lilac sky.

warnings : lmfaooo this part always killing me but here it is....rafe being 90% of the warning part and the menace he already is, kidnapping, daddy issues, urge of sexualing your own self, slight of stockholm syndrome, dubcon, smut, dark!rafe, violence, mentions of threats, r being a missing girl, age gap, size difference, choking. rafe being mean to the reader. slight of daddy kink. sick attitude. dirty talk. attention whore. just minors DNI. (why it's bigger than my grocery list actually...). please carefully pay attention to the tags !!?

author's note : it's my first time writing a dark fic so don't expect too much 🙏🏿 you can read this without watching buffalo 66.

some girls were the trailer park princess, and others the queen of the gas station.

as the girl of the gas station, you were there all day on the road of these men much older than you, who had and drove pretty vintage cars who were literally bigger than you. those rich daddies surely had more money than your poor father who was always sitting behind the desk of his shop waiting for the night.

your father never gave you any attention, not even a look, he didn't care about what you did on your summer days as long as he never saw you. so you stayed all day at your playground queendom across from the pitiful, filthy motel where you lived. because here at least the men were looking at you.

of course they were looking at you, you always gave them something to look at with your tiny dresses that showed your naked thighs, your tits pressed together in that backless top. you always dressed in that soft and milky blue shades. as the sea and the sky, you were blue.

while their wives found you sick, you could feel their stares every time you leaned down to grab the keys that they forgot to give you each time. you could feel their eyes completely charmed by the way your summer dress rode up above your ass, and your panties stuck out.

fully bent over, you could hear the groans of these old men, the way they forced their hands themselves to not touch you when you wanted nothing more than to see them give in to the young temptation that you were.

you had a power in them and you loved to see them completely crazy.

you worked as a gas pump attendant. in reality, you did it behind your father's back because it allowed you to stay in the company of these men who only had eyes for you.

you always put on a show for them, and it always worked because you were irresistible.

but there was this guy every time, a regular customer, cold and short-spoken who never spoke to you.

he had a beautiful and luxurious car and you always wondered what job he did to drive such an incredible vehicle, and to spoil you so much with all this money.

he never said thank you for your service. after all, you were paid for it. his eyes were blue as you. he could park and glare at you for hours, sitting deep in his seat, a cigarette stuck between his opened lips.

he was so much older than you, so much to the point it was indecent. when you had first seen him, you had melted like sugar.

as you were coming back from the ice cream parlor, your lips sucking that delicious vanilla ice cream, you sat on the edge of the gas station, right in front of his car, your legs completely spread, white cream melting and dripping between your thighs. he rubbed his painful boner through his boxer.

you were sick, you let him look at you with this completely perverted stare while you let chunks of ice fall into your cleavage.

his eyes were all over you, but this time it was different, because this time it was him who was thinking about you while touching himself. this time it was him who was sick about you , him who had all these furious ideas about you. he pumped himself so hard, biting his lips harshly. and you continued your depraved show, while he jerked off, his big cock shaked and leaked in his own hand, his thick and already experimented fingers moved around his length faster and faster, the sweaty and dirty sound of his balls slapping, the squeaking noises of his chair, his arched back making the chair shaking. you thought of the veins of his dick engorged of blood pulsated against his hefty strength. that was enough to make you fully wet.

you wanted nothing more than to make this old man reach for you. but the problem was, you were too young and naive to know how mad he was, and what he really wanted to do with a pretty doll like you.

you stood up when you finished your ice cream, putting your dress back on neatly, and leaned down, leaning your porcelain princess arms over his car window.

you shuddered when he spread his cum on your face without any warning, smeared the remains of vanilla ice cream over your sloppy lips gloss with lick of drool.

he pushed his big thumb against your little mouth, pushed it into an o shape, and you closed her to start licking up the drops of his cum.

but like every time he came here, he never spoke to you. you had just seen the car leave, while you still had the taste of him on your lips. it was rude.

the next day, your father sent you out to do some groceries on a sweltering hot summer day, tired of seeing you around doing nothing. what he didn’t know was that this was probably the last time he saw you. and even shoupe that you had seen earlier in the morning, and who had told you to be careful, something with a killer around.

when you were done with the grocery, you started walking through the empty parking lot.

you thought you were alone, even though there were a few empty cars.

but it was a mistake, a terrible mistake that you were going to regret.

“didn't shoupe tell you to be careful this morning, sweetheart ? because i'm pretty sure, he did. ”

you screamed when the man grabbed you by the waist, pressing your little ragdoll body against his chest much stronger. the stranger quickly covered your mouth, and bruised your pretty lips with violence without any caring, shoved down his fingers between them to the point that you almost choked with your own breath and saliva.

“ you hurt..me…! ” you tried to say with a lot of difficulty, as his firm grip crushed against your breasts.

“ not yet actually, doll. but i promise, i will if you continue to fight. so beware, or i will fucking kill you. not a threat, sweetheart. it's a promise. “ and you knew that even god couldn't save you at this time.

you tried to bite him, but your teeth barely touched his skin. his lips hovered above your ear, you could hear his deep older voice warned you.

" bite me one more time, and i will break you. i love wrestle with you little girl, but i think you will really hate the way i fight. because when daddy fight sugardoll, he kills. and tiny things like you are so easy to wreck. and you dont want to die today, right ? you're too young for that. do you got it ? nod if you got it, yes. smart baby, understand easily that she needs to listen and not fucking run away. ”

his strength was heavy. you had stopped resisting a few minutes ago, even when he put you in his car.

he started driving, with a smirk, he looked in the rearview mirror before telling you.

“ what's the matter, sugardoll ? don't want to put a show for me, anymore ? ”

he had taken you to a shitty old motel down the road, where no one would be able to pick you up here. you knew he was intelligent, you knew it because you understood that every time he came to see you, he tried to learn more about you, but not to know you no, but to know when would be the right time to kidnap you. you knew it because he had stalked you carefully.

he had tried to tie you up while you tried to struggle one last time. but he had grabbed your jaw so violently that you felt your face shiver in his hands. “one more move, and i’ll show you how dolls are really treated, how i have no fucking bother to kill a tiny thing like you. ”

“i’m not going to run away.”

"i know.” he shushed you with a sick evil smirk. “ but it's not because you don't want to, sugardoll .but more because you can't.” he said, while releasing your jaw.

“ that's the small but important difference. i kidnapped you. do you even know what it means ? "

you started to cry, tears running down your cheeks.

“ you want a real reason to cry? fine. i can do that for you. i kidnapped you but you want to know the big part of all this? is that no one will come for you. your father doesn't love you , and that's why you work in this stupid gas station. you love the attention of these men so bad that you feel obliged to sexualize yourself to feel desired but me, i wanted you the first time i saw you. i let you do it, i let you play with them, but now it's all over. since i own you, this game is fucking over. ”

“shoupe will come after me ! ”

“but maybe you won’t be around to see it anymore.” he looked at you, and shushed your tears, while staring in your wet eyes. “ yes, i really like when you give me those tears, cry to me, little girl i'm the only men that really got you. ”

you glared at him as if he had fallen from the sky.

“ but now you have to be careful, don’t get on my nerves. i know it's hard for you, but don't do stupid things. ”

he placed your hand on his lower back, where you had felt the metallic coldness of the gun. and you shivered.

"yes, you got it. don't ever get on my nerves.”

“ how can i get on your nerves ? you don't really seems like a bad guy. more like a sweet guy ? ”

“ i'm not. and i'm not trying to be so watch your mouth. “

“ but i really think you are. can i hug you ? ”

“ try it, doll, literally try it. just try to touch me, i dare you. and i bet you will never tell me i'm the sweetest guy again. ”

“ can you at least bathe me ? ” you asked seriously.

“ jesus, do you think i'm your slave or whatever ? do you forget which position you are in ? in the captive one. so do not ask me those stupid things again. and don't try, no, never try to run away because, i can promise you that when i will find you, it will not be a pleasant time for you. and not even a little, but to the point, you will ask me to kill you. and i will be in a mood to accept your request ? yes, me. ”

you nodded as the kind and little girl you are who cannot argue against this tall man. he released your small face, and you were bathing alone. while you were taking your bath, alone in the tub, you heard rafe on the phone without being able to understand what he was saying but after that call, he left the room.

you had decided to buy some food with the little money you had at the food and drink vending machine.

with a happy smile, you went back up, hoping to please him. but you had found him on the chair in front of the TV.

“look, what…”

“i think you’re really nice. but not at your own good, sugar. ”

“ i just wan…”

“ get on the bed, now. ”

he couldn't help but relaxing when he saw how your blue dress was so tiny, already showing your soaked underwear.

" no whining. " he said as he shoved himself deeply in your tight abused cunt, your ragdoll body pressed down in the mattress, his thick stronger arms hugged your small waist, while thrusting harder and harder, your walls clenched around his fat cock. you can felt the size growing bigger in your wettering pussy, as he turned you into a real crybaby, tears flowing down your cheeks. you were caged by his beefy and muscular body on the bed, gasped on the edge. “ you wanted to act like a big girl ? then take it like a big girl. no fucking whining, i'm just giving you what you want. ”

he was literally buried inside you, snapping your hips, moving in and out. the atmosphere was hot, you felt the heat, there were trails of saliva around your mouth. “stop whining babydoll, daddy is not at his worse actually. and you don't want to see this happen.” you wanted to hate him but it was like you appreciated him being so mean to you, your pussy was dripping, your fluids drenching him, your sticky walls surrounded his girth. " yes, that's it. pull up some juices for daddy, make it easier for him to destroy you. "

everytime you runned away from him, he lifted your head with a grunt, and with a wild thrust inside of you, making you drip even more as his glistening tip reached your spot, the dirty and wetness sound of his moves echoed in the room, your body trapped against his taller one.

with a hand on your throat, you were arched to the point where he could see your wetted eyes rolled up. "try to run away again, and you will have the fucking pleasure to be a momma, as well as a missing girl. i'm not asking you to take my cock better.” he said with a threat. “ no, i'm telling you to do it as your fucking job. ”

all teary, you could bet that rafe didn't know how big he was for telling you this. you were trying your best actually. he was rutting in you, holding your tiny size with one big hand, getting so feral everytime he saw your small body twitching when he pushed himself further. your moans were loud, as your squirted more than one time on him, your dripping walls clamped his hard cock. even when your third orgasm flowed against your bulging pussy, creating a mess at the surface, he continued.

" you know sugardoll, you better work faster for my cum, because i will only stop when i will see how creampie your pussy is for my dick.”

he stuffed your puffy messy cunt, while your pumped his fingers who slidded deep down in your throat, your warm and bullied tongue fighting to not dropped them.

you slobbed more with the overstimulation. you felt like this man was insatiable. rafe loved to see you, his sugardoll in pain, taking so much for him.

when he finally stopped teasing you, and fighting himself to not cum, and clearly toying you, he exploded, making you cried out. all your body was filled with spasms.

you expected something from rafe when he pulled out, a little soft spot, or at least, just one look but he just went to the bathroom. alone.

you expected him to be sweet for you, like the sugar you were for him. and you knew, that you will work for this later.

when he came back, you looked at him, always attracted by his charisma, the way he made you felt so tiny by his big size, the way he was old enough to make you feel like a little girl, just the way his raised voice made you feel so small.

“ can i sleep with you ? ”

“ whatever. just don't touch me. ”

“ you're not gonna be my big spoon ? “

“ what the fuck is this ? i'm not gonna be your spoon. jesus, can you just sleep and not ask for any stupid things that you think i will do because you're already so obsessed with me ? and give me your hands. ”

he tied them up on the bed with your little blue ribbon.

“ just in case you think you can escape me. ”

“ i can't sleep like that ! ”

“ i fear it's not my fucking problem, sugardoll.”

“ fine. i will talk and talk all night. ”

“ i can fuck you all the night too. but one of us will not survive this. so stop being so damn annoying. ”

“ what if i want to pee in the middle of the night ? ”

“ you're strong enough to hold it. and you fucking better be strong enough to hold it. ”

“ why are you so mean to me ? why you kidnapped me ? ”

“ sugardoll, listen to me. look at me, yes. eyes on daddy right now. i swear, and you need to listen carefully because i will tell you once, just once, so your dumby brain need to pay attention, if you're talking another time, even if i see your lips moving, just a twitch, i will put my dick right in your mouth, making you suck it for without a break until the sun rises again. and i can promise you that after, you will never talk to me because you will never be able to open that mouth again. do you got it ? nod your head if you got it, doll.”

and you nodded.

as a doll, you were conditionned to listen to your owner, even if he was so mean to you. but you were as soft as sugar, always melted around, already thinking he was the best guy around.

“ sweet dreams, sugardoll. ”

i promise one day i will write something very good, just give me a chance. i think the only sweet thing in this work, it's rafe calling r " sugardoll ", he's so mean please 😭😭 i think i make him a little too dark to the point, i'm questionning about how he can be sweet to the reader now ????? but i guess, it's part of the game. tysm @bunnyrafe and @fae-of-prey me a lot !

[aceyalonso]

our little secret - DANIEL RICCIARDO

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

summary : y/n had never been one to take risks, especially those that could put any relationships on the line, but maybe daniel can convince her to take a risk while keeping it a secret, just this once (or twice)

warnings/notes : text written like this = flashback, swearing, drinking, 9 year age gap - reader is 25/26, smut, oral (both!receiving), hair pulling (?), fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, thigh riding, praise kink, use of "sweetheart" and "pretty/good girl", implied unprotected sex (please use a condom guys!!!), gagging (in a sense?), finger sucking, begging, clothed sex, nipple play

word count : 9.4k

a/n : sorry if i havent been posting much, im really busy :,)

main masterlist | 1k masterlist | taglist form

2024 - Monday, 10:58 PM

Y/n walked into the dimly lit bar, the smell of alcohol and stale cigarette smoke filling her nostrils. She scanned the room, taking in the various patrons drowning their sorrows or celebrating the night away. As she made her way to the bar, her eyes landed on a familiar face - Daniel, her best friend's older brother.

It had been years since she last saw him, and a part of her couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the unexpected reunion. She approached him, a friendly smile on her face. "Daniel? Is that really you?"

He turned, his eyes widening in recognition. "Y/n! Wow, it's been ages. How have you been?" He pulled her into a warm hug, the scent of his cologne filling her senses.

She settled onto the barstool beside Daniel, signaling the bartender for a drink. "I've been good, just busy with work and life, you know how it goes. How about you? Still living in the area?"

He nodded, taking a swig of his beer. "Yep, never left. Business has been stable, bought a new house, the whole nine yards. It's been... quiet, I guess. Nothing too exciting." His eyes lingered on her face, taking in the changes time had brought.

As they caught up, the drinks flowed freely, and inhibitions began to lower. Y/n found herself leaning closer, drawn to Daniel's easy charm and the familiarity of his presence. They laughed and reminisced about old times, the alcohol loosening their tongues and emboldening their words.

Daniel's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, I thought you were coming into town on Thursday? My sister mentioned something about you staying over on Friday."

She blinked, momentarily taken aback by the realization. "Oh, right. I completely forgot about that. I decided to come a few days earlier, have some time to myself." She laughed, shaking her head. "I'll be in town for two weeks, actually. Just... don't want to make my presence known yet, I guess."

A mischievous glint entered Daniel's eye. "Well, since you're here now, why don't we make the most of it? We could grab dinner, catch up properly. It's been too long since we last hung out."

Y/n hesitated for a moment, the idea both thrilling and daunting. But the alcohol coursing through her veins bolstered her courage, and she found herself nodding in agreement. "Sure, why not? It'll be fun to reconnect."

Her inhibitions continued to fade. Y/n found herself laughing more easily, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with mirth. Daniel watched her, amused and intrigued by the change in her demeanor.

"You know," Y/n said, leaning in close and lowering her voice conspiratorially, "I had the biggest crush on you in my last year of high school."

Daniel's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I had no idea."

Y/n nodded, a dreamy look in her eyes. "Oh yeah. I used to fantasize about you all the time. You were so cool and mature, and I was just a silly little girl."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, I'm flattered. I had no idea you felt that way."

She waved her hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter now. That was years ago, and we're both different people now."

Daniel leaned back, a curious expression on his face. "So why didn't you ever pursue it? I mean, if you had such a big crush on me."

Y/n let out a loud, drunken laugh, nearly spilling her drink in the process. "Come on, Daniel! It was a given rule - never go for your best friend's brother. That's like, the ultimate taboo."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "And yet, here we are. Both single, both adults. What's stopping us now?"

Y/n's eyes widened, a mix of shock and excitement coursing through her. She hadn't expected him to take it seriously, to actually consider the possibility. But there was something in his gaze, a heat that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I... I don't know," she stammered, her mind racing. "It just feels wrong, somehow. Like we're crossing a line."

Daniel leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. "Wow, okay. You certainly didn't seem to mind crossing lines when I caught you and my cousin making out at that barbecue a few years back."

Y/n's eyes widened in shock, her face flushing a deep crimson. "Oh my god, I can't believe you remembered that!" She buried her face in her hands, mortified.

He chuckled, reaching out to gently tilt her chin up. "Hey, no need to be embarrassed. We were all young and stupid at one point."

She met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. There was a new intensity in his eyes, a hunger that made her breath catch in her throat. "I... I don't know what to say," she whispered.

Daniel's thumb brushed lightly over thumb, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "How about we get out of here?" he suggested, his voice husky. "Go somewhere more private, where we can... talk more comfortably."

Y/n bit her lip, considering his suggestion. The alcohol had lowered her inhibitions, and the prospect of being alone with Daniel was both thrilling and terrifying. "Hm, why not?" she finally said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Your place?"

Daniel nodded, a predatory gleam in his eye. "Sounds perfect." He tossed some cash on the bar and took her hand, leading her out into the cool night air.

They stumbled slightly as they made their way to his car, giggling like teenagers. Daniel opened the passenger door for her, his hand lingering on the small of her back as she slid into the seat.

As Daniel slid into the driver's seat, Y/n couldn't help but notice the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat that was building in her core.

The drive to Daniel's place was long and winding, the streets deserted at this late hour. They passed by darkened houses and closed businesses, the only sound the low hum of the engine and their own breathing.

The cool night air rushed in through the open window, as Y/n felt a sudden burst of reckless energy. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned out the window, letting the wind whip through her hair.

Daniel glanced over at her, a swirl of amusement and shock on his face. “What are you doing? You’re going to fall out!”

She laughed, the sound carried away in the wind. “I won’t! I’m just having fun!” She pushed herself further out of the window, her upper body completely exposed to elements.

He shook his head, but couldn’t help but smile at her carefree antics. Daniel pressed down on the accelerator, the car speeding up as they flew down the empty streets.

Y/n's laughter echoed through the night as the wind whipped around her, her dress billowing and hiking up her thighs. She felt alive, exhilarated by the rush of speed and the freedom of the open road.

Daniel's eyes flicked over to her, taking in the sight of her exposed legs and the way her dress clung to her curves. He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he tried to focus on the road ahead.

"You're crazy, you know that?" he called out over the roar of the wind and engine.

She just laughed harder, the sound filled with pure joy and reckless abandon. She felt invincible like nothing could touch her in this moment.

Y/n's laughter turned into a shout, her voice carried away in the wind. "I'm on top of the world!" she cried out, her arms spread wide as if embracing the night sky.

Daniel's mind flashed back to a night years ago, when he had picked up Y/n and his sister from a bar. Even then, Y/n had been reckless when she was drunk, always pushing boundaries and seeking out new thrills.

2015 - 1:36 AM

Daniel sat at his desk, hunched over his laptop as he worked late into the night. The glow of the screen illuminated his face, casting shadows across his features. Suddenly, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen and saw his sister's name flash across it.

He answered the call, putting it on speaker. "Hey, what's up?"

His sister's voice came through, slurred and giggly. "Dannyyyy, pick me and Y/n upppppp, we can't driveeee."

Daniel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where are you?"

"The bar on Main Street. Pleeeease, I don't want to leave my car here overnight," she whined.

Daniel glanced at the clock, debating whether to go or not. But he knew he couldn't leave his sister stranded. "Fine, I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't go anywhere."

He hung up the phone and grabbed his keys, heading out into the night to rescue his drunken sister and her equally inebriated friend.

Not long after, Daniel pulled up to the bar, spotting his sister and Y/n stumbling out of the entrance. His sister was in tears, her mascara running down her face as she clung to Y/n for support.

"There you are!" she cried out as Daniel rolled down the window. "I'm so glad you're here."

Daniel sighed, getting out of the car to help them inside. "Come on, let's get you home."

As they climbed into the car, his sister immediately moved to the backseat. "I want to sit in the back," she insisted, her words slightly slurred.

Y/n, who was still giggling from the earlier excitement, plopped herself down in the front passenger seat. "I'll keep your brother company," she said with a wink, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Daniel shook his head, amused by their antics despite the late hour. He got back into the driver's seat and started the car, ready to take them home and tuck them into bed like the responsible adult he was.

His sister's head lolled back against the seat, as the car pulled away from the sidewalk, her eyes fluttering closed as she drifted off to sleep. In the front seat, Y/n turned to face him, a coy smile on her lips.

"Thanks for coming to get us," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I don't know what we would have done without you."

Daniel glanced over at her, taking in the way her dress had ridden up her thighs and the way her hair was tousled from the wind. He felt a stirring of desire, but quickly pushed it aside. "It's no problem. I'm just glad you're both okay."

Y/n continued to make flirty comments and innuendos, as they drove, her words becoming more brazen with each passing mile. "You know, Daniel," she said, her hand resting on his thigh, "I've always thought you were so handsome. And now that I'm older, I can really appreciate it."

Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on the road ahead. "Y/n, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

She laughed, a throaty sound that sent shivers down his spine. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm saying that I want you, Daniel. I've always wanted you."

Y/n leaned in closer, her lips mere inches from his. "You want to kiss me, don't you?" she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Daniel's heart pounded in his chest, his resolve weakening by the second. He leaned in, his eyes fluttering closed as he prepared to capture her lips with his own.

But just as he was about to make contact, Y/n pulled away, a wicked grin on her face. "Not tonight," she giggled, unbuckling her seatbelt and climbing out of the car.

Y/n stumbled slightly as she stepped out of the car, but Daniel was there to catch her, his strong hands gripping her waist. She leaned into him for a moment, savoring the warmth of his touch.

"Do you have any wine?" she asked, her words slightly slurred.

Daniel nodded, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I've got some. Do you want some?"

Y/n nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yes, please. I need something to take the edge off."

Daniel led her inside, his hand resting on the small of her back. The house was dark and quiet, the only sound their footsteps on the hardwood floor.

He guided her into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of red wine. "This okay?" he asked, holding it up for her to see.

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the bottle. "Perfect."

Daniel grabbed two glasses and poured them each a generous serving. He handed one to Y/n, their fingers brushing as she took it from him.

Y/n took a few sips of the wine, savoring the rich, velvety texture on her tongue. "Mmm, that's some good red wine," she purred, her eyes half-lidded as she looked up at Daniel.

He smiled, taking a sip of his own drink. "Thank you. It was a gift from a friend of mine."

Y/n nodded, her gaze roaming over his face, taking in the strong lines of his jaw and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light. "You have good taste," she said, her voice low and husky.

"Do you want to sit in the living room?" Daniel asked, his voice low and smooth.

She nodded, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Sure, lead the way."

He took her hand, intertwining their fingers as he led her out of the kitchen and into the living room. The space was cozy and inviting, with plush couches and soft lighting.

Daniel gestured for her to sit, and she sank down onto the couch, crossing her legs and leaning back against the cushions. He sat down beside her, close enough that their thighs were almost touching.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his eyes roaming over her face.

Y/n smiled, taking another sip of her wine. "Very. This is nice."

Daniel smiled, his hand resting on the arm of the couch, just inches from her own. "I'm glad you think so."

She took another sip of her wine, trying to ease the tension that had settled in her chest. She started making small talk, asking Daniel about his job and his life in the years since they had last seen each other.

Daniel listened intently, laughing at her jokes and responding with his own anecdotes. "You don't need to feel awkward," he said, his hand coming to rest on her knee. "We're just two old friends catching up."

Y/n nodded, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this than just a friendly reunion. The way Daniel was looking at her, the way his hand felt on her skin... it was all so intense, so charged with possibility.

She took another sip of her wine, trying to calm her racing heart. "I'm glad we ran into each other tonight," she said, her voice soft. "It's been too long."

Daniel nodded, his eyes softening at her words. "I didn't realize I missed seeing you until now, honestly."

They stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them crackling with tension. Y/n's heart was pounding in her chest, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Unable to resist any longer, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. She set her wine glass down on the coffee table, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair as she deepened the kiss.

Daniel responded instantly, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer. He kissed her back with a hunger that took her breath away, his tongue delving into her mouth to tangle with her own.

Y/n moaned softly, pressing herself against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against her soft curves. She had never wanted anything so badly in her life.

Daniel pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "God, if I had known you were such a good kisser, I would have stopped you from leaving the car to kiss you," he said, his voice rough with desire.

Y/n blinked, confusion crossing her face. "What are you talking about?"

Daniel chuckled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Remember that night I picked you and my sister up from the bar? You were being all flirty and reckless, and I was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of you."

Her eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. "Holy shit, that wasn't a dream?" she exclaimed, her face flushing a deep crimson.

Y/n buried her face in Daniel's neck, mortified by the memory. "That just turned me off so bad," she mumbled, her words muffled against his skin. "That was so cringe, Danny."

Daniel laughed, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek. "I know, I know. I looked like such a nerd back then."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his. "But you were still hot," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Even if you were a little too noble for your own good."

Daniel laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Can we just stay like this instead? I mean, we don't need to have sex."

Y/n grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sure, we can have sex in the morning," she said, her voice teasing.

"Mhm," Daniel agreed, pulling her down to lay on the couch with him.

Y/n started giggling uncontrollably, her body shaking with laughter. "Oh my god, can you imagine? Waking up and being like, 'Hey, remember that thing we said about having sex this morning? Let's do it!'"

Daniel chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "I think we'd be too hungover to actually follow through."

Y/n snorted, burying her face in his chest. "Probably. But it's a funny thought."

They lay there for a while, just holding each other and enjoying the closeness. The wine and the late hour made everything feel soft and hazy, like they were suspended in a bubble of their own making.

2024 - Tuesday, 9:21 AM

Y/n slowly blinked open her eyes, her head pounding and her mouth feeling like cotton. She groaned softly, her body slightly sore from the awkward way they had slept on the couch.

Daniel stirred beside her, his arm tightening around her waist as he mumbled something incoherent. Y/n smiled, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent.

"Morning," she whispered, her voice hoarse from sleep.

Daniel's eyes fluttered open, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Morning," he replied, his voice equally rough. "How are you feeling?"

Y/n stretched, wincing slightly as her muscles protested. "Like I got hit by a truck," she admitted. "But in a good way."

Daniel laughed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "I'm glad you're here," he said, his eyes soft and warm. "Even if we are both feeling like death."

She leaned into his touch, her heart fluttering in her chest. "Me too," she murmured. "Me too."

He sat up, stretching his arms above his head. "Do you want breakfast?" Daniel asked, his stomach grumbling loudly.

Y/n nodded, her own stomach rumbling in response. "Yeah, that sounds amazing."

"Okay," Daniel said, standing up and offering her a hand. "You can take a bath in my bedroom if you want. There's a shirt in the top drawer of my dresser that you can wear. I bet that dress wasn't very comfortable to sleep in."

Y/n took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "Thanks," she said, smiling up at him. "You're too good to me."

Daniel chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Go on, I'll start on breakfast."

She nodded and made her way up the stairs, grabbing a shirt from his dresser and heading to the bathroom. She stripped off her dress and climbed into the shower, sighing in relief as the hot water soothed her aching muscles.

As the hot water cascaded over her body, Y/n found herself staring at the various bottles of soap and shampoo lined up on the shower shelf. Her mind drifted back to the events of the previous night, replaying the moment when she had kissed Daniel over and over again.

She couldn't believe she had been so bold, so reckless. But in that moment, it had felt so right, so inevitable. The way his lips had moved against hers, the way his hands had felt on her skin... it was intoxicating.

Y/n bit her lip, a shiver running through her as she remembered the heat of his body pressed against hers. She had wanted him so badly, had ached for his touch. And now, here she was, in his bathroom, wearing his shirt.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She couldn't let herself get carried away, couldn't let her feelings for Daniel cloud her judgment. They were just two old friends, catching up after years apart. Nothing more, nothing less.

Y/n stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself as she padded into the bedroom. She pulled on Daniel's shirt, the fabric soft and worn from years of use. It was a bit big on her, hanging loosely off her shoulders and brushing the tops of her thighs.

She rummaged through his dresser, looking for something to wear underneath. Her eyes landed on a pair of boxer shorts, and she grinned to herself. "Hey Danny," she imagined herself saying, "I took some boxer shorts from your dresser because I'm pretty sure it's not okay to be wearing only panties in your best friend's older brother's house."

Y/n pulled on the boxers, the waistband sitting low on her hips. She looked at herself in the mirror, a mischievous glint in her eye. She couldn't wait to see the look on Daniel's face when he saw her.

Y/n made her way downstairs, her bare feet padding softly on the hardwood floors. She could hear the sound of the coffee machine gurgling in the kitchen, and the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air.

She crept up behind Daniel, who was leaning against the counter, his eyes half-closed as he waited for the coffee to finish. Y/n couldn't resist the urge to tease him, and before he could react, she reached out and tickled his armpits.

Daniel yelped, jumping up and spinning around. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise.

Y/n dissolved into giggles, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself," she said, still laughing. "You looked so zoned out, I thought I'd wake you up."

He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're lucky I didn't drop the coffee pot," he said, his voice gruff.

She giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I hope you don't mind," she said, "I borrowed your boxers. I didn't think it was appropriate to be wearing lace panties around my best friend's brother."

Daniel lifted the hem of his shirt slightly, his eyes roaming over the waistband of the boxers peeking out. "Ehh, I think I'd prefer seeing the lace over my boxers," he said, his voice low and teasing.

Y/n rolled her eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. "You're such a perv," she said, but there was no real heat behind her words.

Daniel just grinned, pouring two cups of coffee and handing one to her. "Breakfast is almost ready," he said, gesturing to the stove where a pan of scrambled eggs and bacon sizzled.

She hopped up onto the kitchen counter, her feet dangling off the edge as she watched Daniel finish cooking. The scent of bacon and eggs filled the air, making her stomach growl.

"Ooh, okay," she said, eyeing the plate of food hungrily.

Daniel set the plate down in the center of the island, then turned to face her. He stepped between her legs, his hands coming to rest on her thighs.

"I meant what I said, by the way," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. "I'd prefer seeing you in lace panties."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his closeness. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daniel's lips found the sensitive skin of Y/n's neck, his kisses sending shivers down her spine. "Yeah," he murmured against her skin, his hands tugging at the waistband of the boxers. "So can I take these off, sweetheart?"

Y/n's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the feeling of his lips on her neck. "Please," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daniel's fingers hooked into the waistband of the boxers, slowly pulling them down her legs. Y/n lifted her hips, allowing him to slide them off completely.

"There," he said, his voice husky. "Much better."

Y/n opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. She could see the desire burning in their depths, and it made her heart race. "Daniel," she whispered, her hand coming up to cup his cheek.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/n," he breathed, his lips brushing against hers.

Y/n's breath hitched as Daniel's fingers played with her through the lace of her panties. "Please," she whimpered, her hips bucking against his hand. "I need you."

Daniel smiled, his eyes dark with desire. "Look at you, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers pushing the lace aside to reveal her wetness. "So wet for me. You'd think I already fucked you."

Y/n moaned, her head falling back as he teased her sensitive flesh. But just as she was getting lost in the sensation, Daniel stopped, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties.

"Off," he commanded, pulling them down her legs and tossing them carelessly onto the floor.

Y/n whimpered at the loss of his touch, but her need was quickly replaced by pleasure as Daniel's tongue licked a hot stripe along her slit. His nose brushed against her clit, and she cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"Mmm, you taste so sweet for me, sweetheart," Daniel murmured, his words vibrating against her sensitive flesh. "I could have you like this all day."

He buried his face between her thighs, his tongue delving deep into her heat as he lapped at her juices. Y/n's back arched off the counter, her fingers gripping the edge tightly as he worked her over with his mouth.

Every so often, he would pull back just enough to make eye contact with her, his gaze smoldering as his nose brushed against her clit. Y/n's breath hitched, her hips bucking against his face as he teased her mercilessly.

"Danny," she gasped, her voice high and breathy. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Daniel just grinned, his eyes dark with lust as he dove back in, determined to make her come undone.

Y/n's body shook and trembled as her orgasm ripped through her, her legs going limp as the intense pleasure overwhelmed her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her voice ragged and breathless.

Daniel held her legs up, his strong hands keeping her steady as he continued to lap at her sensitive flesh, prolonging her pleasure. He could feel her inner walls fluttering around his fingers, and it made his cock twitch in his pants.

Slowly, he eased her down from her high, his tongue gentling as he licked up every last drop of her release. Y/n collapsed back against the counter, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Daniel stood up, his lips glistening with her juices. He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a deep, filthy kiss. Y/n could taste herself on his tongue, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her.

Y/n moaned into the kiss, her body still thrumming with need. "I want more," she breathed, her hands fisting in his shirt.

Daniel laughed, a low, sexy sound. "Really? So needy," he teased, his fingers trailing down her side. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

"I want to cum again," Y/n said, her voice trembling with desperation. "I don't care how, I just want to do it again."

Chuckling, Daniel took her hand and led her to the living room. He sat down on the couch, spreading his legs wide. "Suck my cock and I'll let you cum, okay?" he said, his voice rough with desire.

Y/n nodded eagerly, dropping to her knees between his legs. She reached for his belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle in her haste to get to him.

Daniel laughed, his head falling back against the couch as Y/n's soft lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. She placed a gentle kiss there, her tongue darting out to lick a slow, teasing strip along the side.

"Fuck, that feels good," he groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Y/n hummed in response, her hand still stroking his length as she licked and kissed her way down to his balls. She took one into her mouth, sucking gently as her tongue swirled around it.

Daniel's hips twitched, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Y/n," he warned, his voice strained. "If you keep that up, I'm gonna cum."

She just smiled around his ball, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she released it with a soft pop. "Would that be so bad?" she asked, her voice muffled.

"A bit," Daniel admitted, his voice strained as Y/n continued to tease the tip of his cock with her tongue. "It makes me seem like a teenager fucking for the first time."

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent as she batted her lashes. "Fuck like that, sweetheart," she purred, her hand stroking his shaft in time with her tongue.

Daniel groaned, his hips bucking up into her touch. He took a fistful of her hair, gently gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. "I need to see my pretty girl while she sucks my cock," he said, his voice rough with desire.

Y/n smiled, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth, inch by inch. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she bobbed her head up and down his length.

Y/n kept sucking him, her head bobbing up and down his length as she took him deeper into her mouth with each pass. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive head, lapping up the pre-cum that leaked from the tip.

Daniel's grip on her hair tightened, his hips thrusting up to meet her mouth. "Fuck, just like that," he groaned, his eyes locked on the erotic sight of her lips stretched around his cock.

Y/n moaned around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. She could feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his release.

"Y/n, I'm gonna cum," Daniel warned, his voice strained. "If you don't want it in your mouth, you better pull off."

But Y/n just doubled her efforts, sucking harder and faster, determined to make him fall apart.

Daniel's hips jerked as he came, his cock pulsing in Y/n's mouth as he filled it with his release. She moaned around him, the vibrations prolonging his orgasm as he emptied himself down her throat.

Her mouth was full of his cum, and she had a bit of a hard time swallowing it all. But she was determined to take every last drop, her throat working as she gulped it down.

"Such a good girl," Daniel praised, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Sit on my thigh, you deserve to cum."

Y/n climbed up onto the couch, straddling his thigh as she faced him. She could feel his spent cock twitching against her skin, and it made her even wetter.

"How do you want me to cum, Danny?" she asked, her voice breathy with need. "Tell me what to do."

"Hump my thigh, sweetheart," Daniel instructed, his hand coming up to cup her breast through his shirt. "I'll take care of you."

Y/n nodded, grinding her hips against his muscular thigh. She gasped as his fingers found her nipple, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud through the fabric.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his other hand sliding down to rub her through her soaked panties. "Get yourself off for me."

She whimpered, her hips moving faster as she chased her pleasure. She could feel his cock hardening again against her thigh, and it only spurred her on.

"Danny," she moaned, her head falling back as she rode his thigh. "Feels so good."

Y/n's humping became more desperate, her hips grinding frantically against Daniel's thigh as she chased her release. Whimpers and needy little moans spilled from her lips, her fingers digging into his shoulders for support.

The wetness of her cunt began to seep, leaving a damp spot on his pants as she rode him. Daniel's hand rubbed her faster through the drenched fabric, his fingers pressing against her clit.

"You're doing so well, baby," he praised, his voice low and encouraging. "Keep going for me. Cum when you want to."

Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps, her body tensing as she neared the edge. "Danny," she whimpered, her hips stuttering. "I'm gonna cum."

"Do it," he growled, his fingers pushing her panties aside to stroke her directly. "Cum for me, Y/n."

Y/n's body seized up as her orgasm crashed over her, her inner walls clenching and fluttering around nothing. She cried out, her hands wrapping around Daniel's neck as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Daniel's strong arms held her close, one hand stroking her hair gently as the other rubbed soothing circles on her lower back.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to her temple. "You did so good. Such a good girl for me."

Y/n nuzzled into his neck, basking in the afterglow. "Mmm, Danny," she sighed, her voice content and sated. "That was amazing."

Daniel chuckled, his fingers trailing down Y/n's spine. "Really, sweetheart?" he teased, his voice low and husky. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

Y/n lifted her head, her eyes wide with feigned annoyance. "Oh god," she groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. "You're insatiable."

But there was no real heat behind her words, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She could feel his cock hardening against her thigh once again, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her.

Y/n lay curled up beside Daniel, her head resting on his chest as she traced lazy patterns on his skin. The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets.

"We did it," she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy. "We actually followed through on our little bet."

Daniel chuckled, his fingers carding through her hair. "We sure did," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "And I'd say it was a success."

Y/n giggled, her body still tingling from their marathon "Mmm, I'd say so," she purred, nuzzling closer to him. "You wore me out, Danny."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he teased, his arm tightening around her waist. "Though I think we both could use a nap after that."

Y/n yawned, her eyes drifting closed. "Definitely," she mumbled, her breathing already evening out as she slipped into a contented slumber, safe and warm in Daniel's embrace.

Just as Y/n was about to drift off to sleep, Daniel's phone chimed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen and smirked, seeing his sister's name.

"Hey sis," he answered, putting the call on speaker. "What's up?"

"Hey Dan," his sister replied, her voice chipper. "So I'm buying something for Y/n right now - you know, as a welcome back gift. But I can't decide between a necklace or a lipstick. Any thoughts?"

Y/n's eyes flew open at the mention of her name. She leaned in close to Daniel, whispering in his ear. "I'd prefer a necklace."

Daniel grinned, his hand sliding down to rest on Y/n's hip. "I think a necklace would be a good idea," he said, his voice low and suggestive. "Y/n loves jewelry."

His sister laughed. "Okay, necklace it is then. Thanks for the help, Dan."

"No problem," Daniel said, chuckling. "Now please end the call, I wanna go back to bed."

"Oh, of course!" his sister replied, oblivious to Y/n's presence. "Thanks for the help, Dan. Talk to you later!"

"Later, sis," Daniel said, ending the call. He turned to Y/n with a mischievous grin. "Where were we?"

Y/n laughed, playfully swatting at his chest. "Danny, no," she giggled. "Let me sleep."

Daniel pouted, but he didn't push it. Instead, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling into her hair. "Fine, fine," he murmured. "But I'm not letting you go just yet."

Y/n sighed contentedly, snuggling into his embrace as she drifted off to sleep, safe and warm in Daniel's arms.

The next few days passed in a blur of passion and excitement for Y/n and Daniel. They spent every waking moment together, their bodies entwined as they explored each other in every way possible. The sex was endless, the feeling of happiness and adrenaline coursing through their veins as they pushed the boundaries of what they could get away with.

One particularly memorable moment came when they were in the middle of a heated session on Daniel's bed, Y/n's moans echoing off the walls, when suddenly there was a loud knock at the front door.

"Daniel? Are you home?" his sister's voice called out. "I need help with my car!"

Y/n's eyes widened in panic, her heart racing as she scrambled to gather her clothes. "Shit, shit, shit," she hissed, frantically trying to pull her panties up her legs.

Daniel quickly grabbed a shirt and threw it on, his eyes darting around the room for a place to hide Y/n. "Closet," he mouthed, pointing to the large walk-in closet. "Now!"

After a few minutes of frantic whispering and hurried explanations, Daniel managed to convince his sister that he knew just what was wrong with her car. He promised to come down and take a look, buying them some time.

As soon as he heard the front door close, Daniel rushed back up the stairs and into his bedroom. He flung open the closet door, finding Y/n curled up on the floor, giggling uncontrollably.

"I'm so sorry about that," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I had no idea she was going to show up."

Y/n just laughed, shaking her head. "It's okay," she said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "That was actually kind of exciting."

Y/n and Daniel collapsed onto the bed, their laughter echoing off the walls as they clung to each other. The adrenaline of almost getting caught mixed with the sheer joy of their connection, leaving them breathless and giddy.

As their laughter began to subside, Daniel's eyes darkened with desire. He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked down at Y/n. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "I never did get to finish what I started."

Y/n's breath hitched, her body already responding to the heat in his gaze. "Oh?" she asked, her voice breathy. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"

Daniel grinned, his hand sliding down her side to rest on her hip. "I think you know," he purred, leaning in close. "I'm going to make you scream my name until you forget all about my sister's unexpected visit."

Y/n shivered, her legs falling open in invitation. "Then what are you waiting for?" she challenged, her eyes glinting with mischief.

2024 - Friday, 3:26 PM

Y/n stood on the doorstep of Daniel's family home, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She had been looking forward to this weekend for weeks, but now that the moment was here, she couldn't help but feel a little anxious.

She raised her hand and knocked on the door, smoothing down her dress nervously as she waited. After a moment, the door swung open, revealing Daniel's sister with a bright smile.

"Y/n!" she exclaimed, pulling her into a warm hug. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

Y/n returned the hug, feeling some of her nerves melt away. "Thank you so much for having me," she said, stepping inside. "I'm really excited to spend some time with all of you."

Daniel's sister led her into the living room, where the rest of the family was gathered. Y/n's eyes immediately sought out Daniel, who was sitting on the couch with his parents. He caught her gaze and winked, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Daniel's sister turned to Y/n, her brow furrowed with concern. "Sorry for not being able to pick you up," she said, apologetic. "My car was acting weird, and I didn't want to risk breaking down on the way."

Y/n glanced at Daniel, pretending not to know anything about the car trouble. She offered his sister a reassuring smile. "It's alright," she said, her voice warm and sincere. "I completely understand. I'm just happy to be here with all of you."

Daniel's sister relaxed, her smile returning. "Thanks, Y/n," she said, giving her a quick hug. "I'm glad you're here. It's been too long since we've all gotten together like this."

Y/n nodded, her eyes drifting back to Daniel. He was watching her intently, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, her heart skipping a beat at the intensity of his gaze.

Y/n made her way around the room, greeting Daniel's parents and other family members with warm hugs and friendly smiles. She chatted with them briefly, asking about their week and catching up on any news.

When she finally made her way to Daniel, she acted as if they were just casual acquaintances, rather than the lovers who had spent the past few days tangled in each other's arms.

"Hi Daniel," she said, offering him a polite smile. "It's good to see you."

Daniel's eyes sparkled with mischief as he stood up to greet her. "Y/n," he said, his voice low and warm. "I'm so glad you could make it."

He leaned in to hug her, his body pressing close for just a moment longer than was necessary. Y/n suppressed a shiver, remembering the feel of his skin against hers.

As they pulled apart, Daniel's mother called out from across the room. "Daniel, dear, could you help your father bring in the food from the grill? Y/n, why don't you come sit with me and catch up?"

"I'll be staying her for a couple of weeks, unless something happens at work," Y/n jokes. The older woman could only laugh, understanding how work can ruin a vacation.

Daniel's mother nodded, her eyes twinkling with approval. "That's wonderful," she said. "We're so glad you'll be here for a while. It's always a pleasure to have you around."

She leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "And who knows? Maybe you'll even find a nice young man to settle down with while you're here."

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up at the implication, her mind immediately flashing to her secret trysts with Daniel. "Oh, I don't know about that," she said, trying to keep her voice light and casual. "I'm not really looking for anything serious right now."

Daniel's mother waved her hand dismissively. "Nonsense," she said. "You're young and beautiful, you should be out there enjoying life and meeting new people."

Y/n just smiled and nodded, not wanting to reveal the truth about her relationship with Daniel. She knew it would only complicate things, and she wasn't ready to deal with the potential fallout.

Y/n and Daniel's sister were down in the basement, the sound of the pool balls clicking and clacking filling the air. They had been catching up for hours, laughing and reminiscing about old times.

"Remember that time we snuck out to go to that concert?" Daniel's sister asked, lining up her shot. "Your parents were so mad when they found out."

Y/n giggled, taking her own shot and sinking the 8-ball. "They grounded me for a month," she said, grinning. "But it was totally worth it. That show was amazing."

His sister nodded, racking up the balls for another game. "Those were the days," she said, a wistful smile on her face. "I miss being young and carefree like that."

Daniel's sister suddenly snapped her fingers, a light bulb going off in her head. "Oh! I almost forgot," she said, rummaging through her purse. "I have a gift for you."

She pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box and handed it to Y/n. "Here," she said, grinning. "Consider it a welcome home present."

Y/n's eyes widened as she took the box from Daniel's sister, her mind racing with the memory of that phone call. She had completely forgotten about the conversation between Daniel and his sister, and the fact that she had chosen the necklace without even realizing it.

"Oh wow," she said, carefully opening the box. Inside was a beautiful gold necklace with a delicate pendant in the shape of a butterfly. "It's gorgeous," she breathed, running her fingers over the cool metal.

Daniel's sister beamed, clearly pleased with Y/n's reaction. "I'm so glad you like it," she said. "Daniel said you'd prefer this over lipstick, so I thought it was the perfect choice."

Y/n carefully removed the necklace from the box, her fingers trembling slightly as she fastened the clasp at the back of her neck. The cool metal felt smooth against her skin.

"Thank you so much," she said, turning to face Daniel's sister with a bright smile. "It's absolutely beautiful. I love it."

Daniel's sister grinned, clearly pleased with Y/n's reaction. "I'm so glad you like it," she said, giving Y/n a quick hug. "And I have to say, it looks perfect on you."

Y/n's hand instinctively went to the pendant, her fingers tracing the delicate wings of the butterfly.

Daniel's sister yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "I think I'm going to head up to bed," she said, gathering her things. "It's been a long day."

Y/n nodded, understanding. "Of course, I'll be up in a bit," she said. "I just want to finish this game first."

Daniel's sister smiled, giving Y/n a quick hug before heading up the stairs. As soon as she was gone, Y/n turned back to the pool table, lining up her shot.

She had always been a bit competitive, and she couldn't resist the challenge of sinking all the remaining balls. She took her time, focusing on each shot, the click of the balls, and the thwack of the cue against the felt the only sounds in the basement.

As Y/n lined up her shot, ready to sink the last of the three remaining balls, she heard a clap from the top of the stairs. She turned to see Daniel standing there, a smile on his face.

"Impressive," he said, his voice low and appreciative. "I didn't know you were so good at pool."

She grinned, setting her cue down on the table. "I've been practicing," she said, walking towards him. "But I think you already knew that, didn't you?"

Daniel's eyes darkened as she approached, his gaze trailing over her body. "I knew you were good at a lot of things," he murmured, his voice husky.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her body responding to the heat in his gaze. She stopped just in front of him, looking up at him through her lashes. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice breathy.

Daniel closed the distance between them, his hands sliding around her waist as he lifted her up onto the pool table. Y/n gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he stepped between them.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing kiss. "I think you know exactly what I mean," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.

Y/n's hands slid up his chest, tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. "Show me," she whispered, her lips hovering just inches from his.

Daniel groaned, his mouth crashing against hers in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed over her body, slipping under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her back.

Y/n moaned into the kiss, her hips grinding against his. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and it sent a shiver of desire coursing through her.

"Daniel," she gasped, breaking the kiss to look up at him. "We can't... not here..."

His hands slid down to cup Y/n's face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. "Shh," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "It's okay. Everyone's asleep. We can..."

He trailed off, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Fuck, you're so pretty," he breathed, his eyes dark with desire.

Y/n's heart raced, her body aching with need. She knew they shouldn't be doing this, not here, not with his family just upstairs. But the way Daniel was looking at her, the way his hands felt on her skin... she couldn't resist.

"Daniel," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. "Please..."

Daniel's eyes blazed with desire as he looked down at Y/n, his hands still cupping her face. "Please what, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. "What do you want?"

Y/n's breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as she gazed up at him. "I want you," she whispered, her voice trembling with need. "I want you to touch me, to kiss me, to make me yours."

Daniel groaned, his head dipping to nuzzle into her neck. "Fuck, Y/n," he breathed, his lips brushing against her skin. "You have no idea how badly I want that too."

His hands slid down her body, slipping under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her stomach. Y/n shivered, her hips arching up to press against him.

"Please, Daniel," she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. "I need you."

His lips crashed against Y/n's in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to tangle with hers. Y/n moaned, her fingers tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers.

As they kissed, their hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring and teasing. Y/n's fingers slipped under the waistband of Daniel's shorts, her nails raking over the sensitive skin of his lower back.

"I need you so bad," she gasped, breaking the kiss to look up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Daniel, I can't wait anymore."

Daniel chuckled, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Now suck."

He brought his fingers to her lips, his meaning clear. Y/n's eyes widened, but she didn't hesitate. She parted her lips, taking his fingers into her mouth and sucking them deep.

After a moment, Daniel pulled his fingers from Y/n's mouth, a low groan escaping his lips at the sensation. "Let go," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Y/n released his fingers, her eyes dark and needy as she watched him. Daniel's free hand moved to her shorts, his fingers deftly pushing the fabric and her panties to the side.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he breathed, his fingers brushing against her slick folds. Y/n gasped, her hips bucking up to meet his touch.

Slowly, Daniel pushed his spit-covered fingers into her tight heat, his thumb circling her clit as he did. Y/n cried out, her head falling back against the pool table as pleasure coursed through her.

Daniel's fingers pumped in and out of Y/n's wet heat, his thumb circling her clit in tight, teasing circles. "That feels good, doesn't it?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Just like all the times I've fucked you this week. On the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the bathtub…"

Y/n moaned, her hips rocking against his hand. "Yes," she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "God, yes. It feels so good."

Daniel grinned, his eyes dark with lust. "I love seeing you like this," he growled, his fingers curling inside her, hitting that spot that made her see stars. "I love knowing that I'm the only one who can make you feel this way."

Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps, her body tensing as she neared the edge. "Daniel," she whimpered, her nails raking down his back. "Please, I need more."

Y/n whined in protest as Daniel suddenly pulled his fingers from her sopping cunt, leaving her empty and aching for more. But her whine quickly turned into a gasp as she felt the head of his cock pressing against her sensitive clit.

"Daniel," she breathed, her hips bucking up to meet his touch. "Please, I need you inside me."

Daniel chuckled, his eyes dark with lust as he looked down at her. "Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "I'm going to take my time with you."

He rocked his hips, the tip of his cock sliding through her wet folds, teasing her entrance but not quite pushing inside. Y/n moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she tried to pull him closer.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," Daniel groaned, his hips circling, spreading her arousal around her clit. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."

He finally pushed forward, his thick cock sliding into Y/n's tight heat in one smooth stroke. Y/n's mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure, her eyes rolling back as he filled her completely.

Daniel covered her mouth with his hand, his fingers pressing against her lips. "Shh," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "We can't have anyone hearing you, can we?"

Y/n shook her head, her lips brushing against his fingers as she nodded. She bit down on his hand, muffling her moans as Daniel began to move, his hips rocking against hers in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his free hand gripping her hip tightly. "So tight and wet and perfect."

Y/n's nails raked down his back, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts. The pool table creaked beneath them, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the basement.

Y/n rocked her hips against Daniel's, her clit rubbing against his pelvis with each thrust. The friction was delicious, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body.

"Oh god, Daniel," she gasped, her voice muffled against his hand. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Daniel's grip on her hip tightened, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his hips snapping against hers. "You're so fucking tight. I'm not going to last much longer."

Y/n could feel her orgasm building, her body tensing as she neared the edge. "Me neither," she whimpered, her nails digging into his back. "I'm so close, Daniel. Please, make me cum."

Daniel's hand slid from her mouth to her breast, his fingers pinching and rolling her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt. "Cum for me, Y/n," he growled, his hips pounding into her. "Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are."

Daniel's thrusts became erratic, his body tensing as he neared his own release. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his hips slamming into hers. "I'm going to cum."

Y/n's orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. "Daniel!" she cried out, her voice echoing in the basement.

Daniel thrust deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed inside her. He rocked his hips, pushing his cum deeper, his fingers digging into her hips.

Y/n's walls fluttered around him, milking him for every last drop. She could feel his hot cum filling her, the sensation prolonging her own orgasm.

As Daniel's orgasm subsided, he began to pull out of Y/n, his softening cock slipping from her sensitive heat. But before he could fully withdraw, a voice rang out from the top of the stairs. "What the actual fuck?"

Daniel and Y/n both froze, their eyes widening as they looked up to see Daniel's sister standing at the bottom of the stairs, her mouth hanging open in shock.

taglist:

@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

@lilorose25 @anamiad00msday @carlossainzapologist @widow-cevans

[entitled-fangirl]

It's like heaven.

Felix Catton x reader

SMUT

Summary: Felix can't keep his hands off his angel at the party. Smut later in the story.

Words: 1,676

Warnings: p in v, cursing, Oliver being a perv

Author's note: This is from an ask! Y'all are so creative, I love it!!!

Masterlist

18+ please!

.......................................................................

He was utterly speechless.

When he saw her, he was speechless.

She had wanted to surprise him, of course, shooing him from their bedroom when he was finished getting ready for the party so she could get dolled up.

Now, here she stood in a somewhat scandalous piece feeling beautiful, a halo placed on her head for the theme.

He simply stood in the doorway, his jaw dropped.

She saw him in the mirror, whipping around, "Felix! I said to wait until I was done!"

He shook out of his stupor, moving towards her with a smirk, "I forgot my angel wings but JESUS am I glad I came back." He placed his hands on her waist, "I mean, look at you, pretty girl…" His eyes held a look of admiration and lust. 

She stepped back with a giggle, "Not yet. I'm not done. Shoo, Lex…" She then turned around, moving back to finish her eyeliner in the mirror.

He pulled her towards him again, her back hitting his firm abs. His lips began to trace her neck as he looked at her in the mirror, mumbling, "…what is there left to finish, angel?"

She stood when she was satisfied with the eyeliner, turning around in his arms. "…just my shoes. And… I'm no angel."

He smirked leaning down to give a kiss, his voice a slight growl, "you're my angel."

The kiss was sweet and held a lot of emotion, considering how it was soon going to become something more. She pulled away, placing a hand on his chest, "…Lex."

He pulls away with a groan, "Forget the party, beautiful."

She laughs, "No! I got ready for this, Lex. Even if you don't like the birthday boy, we still have to go!"

He would always give in to her. 

He smiles, leaning in towards her again, hands beginning to wander before she stopped him, "What's going on with you tonight?"

"You're just so fucking pretty. My pretty angel. Can't keep my hands to myself."

She reaches down, taking her hand in his before she pulled him out of the bedroom and towards the party.

…

She was sat on Felix's lap when Oliver opened the door.

Felix was sitting on the small table of the overly-crowded bathroom, the pretty angel balanced on one of his thighs. He sighed when he saw Oliver.

"Felix, can I talk to you for one second?"

She looked at Felix to gauge his reaction, seeing that his eyebrows was slightly raised. He then ignores Oliver's question all together, lighting a cigarette, his other hand on his girl's thigh.

Oliver cleared his throat, "You can't ignore me forever."

He immediately rebutted, "I can try."

"Felix, we need to talk." When Felix didn't move, Oliver became insistent, "Felix, come on!"

He sighed, reaching up to place the cigarette between his angel's lips. She gladly accepts, "Look, man, I tried to be nice, but can you fuck off and bother somebody else?"

The others in the room chuckled at the interaction as they did lines off the table and floor.

Oliver stood in the doorway for a while in thought, his eyes now falling to the angel on Felix's lap. He observed her. Watched her watching him. He then turned, leaving the bathroom.

"Who was that?" Someone asked.

…

"C'mon, Lex. I wanna dance!"

She pulled him through the crowd by his hand, his wings getting hit as he passed by people, muttering quick apologies. 

"Yes, angel, yes. I'll dance with you. Anything to get you close to me."

The music was blaring, the lights overstimulating, but they didn't care. They were two college kids in love, and nothing would stop them.

He pulled her to him, their bodies pressed close together as they began to dance. 

A frown suddenly pulled to her face.

He leaned down, trying to whisper but having to yell to communicated, "Angel? Are you alright?"

She nods, her eyes staring at something in the distance. 

He turned, following her gaze.

Oliver sat at the sidelines, hoarding a bottle all to him, drinking his problem away.

But it wasn't working.

Because he wouldn't quit looking at them.

And now they noticed.

Felix frowned as well, leaning down to her once more, his eyes not leaving Oliver's, "Fuck him. Don't let him ruin this for us."

She turned back to look at him, "I don't know…"

He laughed, "You got all pretty for me, angel! Let me enjoy it for the night, yeah? No need to worry about what's tomorrow's problem!"

She nodded, letting him pull her back to him.

As his hands began to wander, so were his thoughts. 

God, she was pretty. He was blessed by the gods above for sending an angel so pure and kind as this one. His own little pretty girl. His pretty angel.

A song ended, and Felix reached down, grabbing her hand. He started to pull her away, and she wouldn't resist.

…

They walked out towards the maze, holding hands. They exchanged giggles as the alcohol kicked in. 

When they neared the entrance, she stopped, "Do you know what you're doing, Lex?"

He nodded, "'Course, angel. Wouldn't take you here if I didn't." He kissed her head, pulling her once again.

They both entered the maze, happy and in love.

What they didn't know, was that Oliver had entered too.

…

What felt like hours later, and too many turns to count, the two lovers were now in a passionate kiss, their hands wandering over each others bodies. 

He pulled away just enough to speak, "…you want me, angel?"

She nodded, "please…"

He pulled away completely, holding her jaw in his hand, a grin on his face, "I need to hear you say it."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her voice soft, "I want you, Felix. Please."

That was all he needed.

They began to pull at each other's clothes, anything that would separate the two from each other. 

She reached up to pull off her halo, but his hand grabbed her wrist, "Don't."

She smiled into the kiss, pulling at his tank top.

Now, maybe half dressed, Felix pulled her up on to the base of the statue, holding her in place. Their kiss never broke as he began to move his fingers further down her body.

Her mouth opened slightly in an intake of breath as his gently pressed a finger into her core.

He smiled, his voice soft, "You can take it, angel. Feels good, yeah?"

She could only let out a whimper as he began to gently pump it in and out of her.

He whispered in her ear the entire time, his voice slightly gravely with lust, "Good… doing so good… stretching you out for me, baby… sweet girl…"

When two fingers were added, she pushed her head into his shoulder to avoid making too much noise.

He found it all amusing, watching her eyes close in concentration as her throat made small noises in pleasure.

When she was finally considered ready by his standards, he gently pulled his cock out. It was already hard at this point. It had been almost the entire night after seeing her in the outfit. 

He grabbed at her jaw again, "You're very sure, angel?"

She was a begging mess, her mind already mush, "please, Lex. Make me feel good, please…"

He smiled, "Anything for my angel."

He gently pushed his cock into her, both letting out a small hiss. 

She grabbed his biceps tightly, her eyes strunched a bit, trying to relax herself. 

His hand were on the bottom of her thighs, giving himself leverage, "… doing so good for me…"

He stopped when he bottomed out, giving her a moment to collect herself and adjust. He used this moment to kiss her neck softly, "God, being in you is like heaven."

And he began to thrust.

She let out small, soft little grunts and moans, her hands moving over his body in search of where to find relief. One hand eventually found his hair, pulling slightly as he let out a small, "oh, fuck."

Only the sound of skin pressed against one another was heard throughout the heart of the maze. 

"You're my angel… such a pretty little angel, aren't you?"

She whimpered, his cock hitting her g spot just right. 

"You're gonna cum for me, aren't you… ugh… good girl… cum for me…"

Her voice was barely heard, "…Lex…."

He grinned, his lips still kissing at her neck, "C'mon, pretty girl. You can give me one-"

Oliver's voice came from the bushes where they entered, "Felix…"

Felix stopped, staring at his sweet little angel, whose eyes were wide with fear. He sighed, "Oh, Jesus Christ!" He pulled his pants back to their original position, zipping them up. He turned around, covering her body with himself, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you?"

She placed a hand on Felix's back, her head peering over his shoulder, "Were you spying on us?"

"No, I wasn't." He began to walk forward. 

Felix stood a bit taller, continuing to block Oliver's view. "Mate, let the fucking lady get dressed. You sick fuck."

Oliver held his hands up, turning himself around. 

Felix quickly turned, helping his angel get redressed. 

Once done, he pulled her to him, gently kissing the top of her head. He leaned towards her, whispering in her ear once more, "…go to the bedroom. I'll be there."

She nodded, her eyes filled slightly with tears. She walked forward, going to move past Oliver.

Oliver reached out a grabbed her wrist. He pulled her to him, "May want to fix that." He straightened the halo on her head, watching her nervous reaction, "Wouldn't want people to think you're naughty, do you?"

Felix stepped forward, his voice dark and threatening, "Oliver…"

Oliver let go of the girl, a slight smirk on his face. 

She left the maze to go to the bedroom, having no idea Felix would never see his angel again. 

........................................................

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x reader

a follow up to this prompt by @rebelfell

2.6k

tw: angst, smut, minors fuck off pls teasing? is that a trigger idk.

“we need to talk.” the conversation we’ve been waiting for after you catch your best friend getting head finally unfolds

“We need to talk.”

Your blood ran cold, ice in your veins it was practically prickling your skin. The heat on your cheeks bloomed and your gut quaked at the sight of him, covered. 

Play dumb! It’ll work! 

“I , m-mean, now?— like right now? You have cum- company! a guest— we can talk later, yeah?” 

The stuttering, calmly hands and the sweat gathered under your arms— you were a one woman walking circus, missing the clown nose.  

“Why are you being so weird?” He leans into your doorframe, tattooed arms cross over his broad and glistening chest. 

The flush still in his cheeks almost brought you to your knees, but it was the single flick of his tongue on his lips that had you melting and wishing he had licked your lips instead. Fuck.

“… besides, you already interrupted my guest, so she left—”

Your ears perk up at the mention of said whore leaving your apartment, and your eyelashes bat open, “she left? Why?” 

Eddie huffs and puts his tongue in his cheek like he can’t believe you’re being so stupid. 

“Cut the shit, okay? Will you just be an adult for a second?” 

The smile on your lips falls and you take a step back towards your bed setting your keys down on the nightstand. The silence is anything but quiet. The energy was chaotic and shooting like daggers much like Eddie’s eyes into yours.

“Well?” he asks dramatically, raising his eyebrows to try to get you to speak.  

Play dumb— it’s working! 

“Well what?” you muse innocently. 

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie spits, any softness he brought into this situation had fizzled—dead at the door. 

“I—”

“Forget how to knock?” 

“No—”

“Suuuure, you just thought you’d what? Barge in, ignoring our code?” 

“I didn’t—-there was no hot water! You forgot to pay the water bill!”

“That’s not how water bills work.”

You stand stunned— mouth open to argue but nothing will even come out.

“It’s the water heater for this shitheap building that’s out— if you don’t believe that I paid the bill—call the water company yourself.” 

“…oh.” your voice is small, quiet almost unheard. 

“Wow, really great apology.” 

“Oh relax! Just call her back and explain it was a mistake, who cares? She shouldn’t be so uptight.” 

Eddie is fuming, blood rushing to his head as he tries not to yell out right. But fuck you were being so difficult.

“Ya know… I didn’t say shit when you had Harrington tied to your bed posts and you couldn’t undo the knots— did I? Nope—not a fucking word, I just cut him loose and acted like nothing ever happened!”

You wince, who knew knots were that hard to unlace?

“That was different!” 

“Or the multiple times I caught the fuckin’ Chief slipping out of your room at 5 AM? I even bummed him a cigarette for his morning coffee!” 

Your jaw hung to the floor, you didn’t know Eddie had any idea that you’d been sleeping with Hopper. 

“So? What—we’re just airing out dirty laundry now?” you could be venomous too, your rattle sounding off ready to strike. 

“How many months did you try gettin’ into Mary’s pants before you dumped her because she’s married to Jesus Christ her Lord & Savior? Her name is Mary for fucks sake! Not hard!”

His face pulls to anger, “don’t be a bitch!” 

“And where’s Gareth? Never see him around anymore, maybe it’s because you ran over his d—.” 

“That was an accident! I honked and he never moved!” 

“He was deaf Eddie!” you yell back into his face, “or! How about the time I had to pick you up from the Hideout because you got so drunk you pissed your pants?” 

“That was YOU!” 

The two of you were standing nose to nose, shouting accusing each other of shit that didn’t even matter. Eddie had your back and you’d have his until the end. Cradle to the grave. 

But this was different, you weren’t fighting like siblings or friends, you were both screaming as if you were in pain. 

He’s the first to move, shaking his head and turning towards the door. when he speaks his voice is low, angry.

“When my door is shut don’t open it—turn your ass around and fuck off, got it?” 

His words split your skin, vining through your body like sharp thorns. The hot spill of tears were welling in your eyes. 

“Sorry to bother you, asshole— won’t happen again.”

He’s on the opposite side when you slam your door in his face. The rain brewed and stewed and finally was ready to fall from the clouds in your eyes. 

Why were you acting like this? 

Grabbing your keys you set to leave again, needing an escape so he couldn’t hear your wailing cries. But again— when you opened the door, he was still standing there, only this time he looked pissed. 

“Move.”

He brushes you off as if he didn’t even hear you, “enough.”

“Eddie, get out of the way!” 

“Do you know how many nights I listened to you fake it for this fuckheads?” How long 

I’ve waited for you to admit it?” 

He shuts your door behind him as he pushes his way inside. 

“Admit what?”

“C’mon, baby— we haven’t been friends for a long time, not really.” 

You’re confused and on the verge of tears, “what?!”

Eddie presses forward, head tilted down at you.

 “Those douchebags you bring here can’t handle you the way I know you need…coming home to see their boots by the front door makes me absolutely despise you.”

“Who gives a shit? I trip over skanky high heels sometimes too.”

You were missing the point he was trying to make, way over your head. 

“Never satisfied when they leave…that little vibrator in the top drawer is not as quiet as you think it is.”

You were throbbing, aching… how did he know? 

He inches forward, and you double back towards the door.

“I—”

“Pretty little moans on your lips just minutes after they leave…‘m not stupid sweetheart, I know you do it on purpose— parading around the apartment in your little shorts, never wearing a bra… you’re a tease.” 

He wasn’t right. He couldn’t be! Right?

“I hate you, Eddie.” 

He stalks forward like a predator eyeing its prey, a stupid smirk on his face. 

“No— No I don’t think you do. I think you’re so fucking wound up about me, jealous... It’s alright, I get it. I bury myself in bitches so you’ll get out of my head.”

He takes a ragged breath, his eyes pitch dark, and your back hits the door, he closes in around you, his arms on either side of your head. 

“I fucking hate you, princess. I hate that it doesn’t work.. you’ve made me jealous for too fucking long.”

Your body was screaming, angel and devil on your shoulder dancing and holding hands rooting you on. 

“H-how long?”

His hand falls to your chin, pulling down your bottom lip.

“Senior year. Hellfire. You laughed at one of Jeff’s stupid fucking jokes and my blood ran cold. I wanted you to look at me like you looked at him. That was just the first time I realized I wanted you.”

You shudder, fingers running along his chest, playing with the chain on his neck, “why not say anything?”

“Didn’t wanna ruin this.” 

His lips nearly touch yours, he’s leaning in so close. And you don’t pull away. 

“I think it’s pretty clear that our friendship is over, Eddie. I fucking hate you.” 

“I hate you, too sweetheart.” 

The tension is thick, spinning with bated breath and sexual desire. 

“So, we hate each other?”

“Yep.” Eddie muses, angling your chin so he can see your neck. 

“…and we aren’t friends?” 

He nods silently, pressing his nose to your cheek, “seems to be that way.” 

“You’ve ruined everything.”

“Good,” he all but whispers into your ear. 

“..a perfectly good pair of underwear.” 

His breath hitches in his throat, and he licks his lips. “Can’t have that.” 

“No, not at all,” you tease, thumbing at your waistband and letting your shorts hit the floor.

He steps back to examine you with wide eyes, letting them narrow as he bites his lip, looking you dead in the eyes. 

“I’m gonna fuck you exactly how you need to be fucked.” 

Pulling him back into you by his chain necklace you ask centimeters from his lips, tasting the heat from his mouth, “what are you waiting for?” 

He takes a deep breath, hovering his mouth over yours, “nothing, not anymore.”

His tongue hits you first, electric like an eel on your lips, his breath hot as fire. You moan out when his hands grip your ass, pulling you into him with such force you could have toppled over. 

Eddie is loud too. Groaning with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long, baby.” 

His dick is pressed into your middle, hard and kicking up as your hands reach into his hair, pulling you closer to him as if he were a rope and you were climbing a mountain. 

He pulls you away from the door to get a quick slap to your ass. Rough and hard and you’re mewling, his rings stinging your skin. 

Your lips close to his ear you whisper “Eddie… please.”

He pulls away after leaving a mark on your neck. 

“You don’t have to beg, I’ll give you whatever you need, however many times you want it, honey.”

His fingers dip into your waistband around your hips as he slides your panties down to your thighs.  “Let me see that cunt, show me what I did to you.” 

You step out of your panties and he lowers himself to the floor on bent knees. “Jesus Christ, look how pretty she is, ‘m gonna eat this pussy till you cum all over my face.” 

You nod dumbly, body on fire from his words, the lust of having his hands touch you in places he never had, places you dreamt he would, has your mind spinning. 

His bangs tickle your inner thighs, breath fanning on your clit, thumbs spreading you open. He sucks in a breath, whistling low.

A single flick of his tongue— that’s all it takes for your eyes to roll, for your back to bend in an arch like you were being exorcized of hell’s worst demons. Your fingernails scratching into the door trying to anchor yourself from grinding on his face until his nose broke. 

He spits, watching it drip down to your cunt, “don’t ask me to stop.” 

Diving in, his tongue is everywhere. Lapping you up, sucking your clit into his mouth. Swirling around like you would while eating an ice cream cone. Your chest heaves and your thighs tremble as he hooks one over his shoulder pressing into him and he gently pushes it back into place, his eyes never leaving your body. 

When it happens again, he shoves it down with force, nipping at one of your thighs, his lips shiny and wet he groans, “keep ‘em put.” 

The tip of his middle finger pushes into you, and you squeak out a gasp, leaning forward off the door to take a look at him, and he nearly laughs, “jesus, you’re tight sweetheart, gonna need to work you up a bit.” 

He smiles before attaching his mouth to your thigh, sucking a bruise as he fucks you with his fingers, adding a second that’s easier than the first. Your body rolls with his motions, pushing back against him and you know your orgasm is about to snap.

His tongue replaces his fingers and the heat in your stomach releases, untying the white knot and spilling over his lips as you scream out his name. 

“Thatta girl, fuck look at you, Christ.” 

Your eyes open, a strange drunk feeling taking over, as if you were high on a cloud and falling gracefully back to the earth. Opening to see the blackened eyes of the guy you’ve called your best friend for years, and if you would have known his tongue could do that, maybe you would have ruined this friendship a lot sooner.

“Fuck off Munson,” you mutter, out of breath as your foot gently sets on the ground.

“What?” he laughs.

“Just keeping the fact that you eat pussy better than the devil all to yourself huh? Selfish.”

His face splits into a grin laced with evil as he stands, licking his lips, “that’s not all I can do.” 

He’s on you in a flash, hoising you up into his arms, and using the other to hastily shove his boxers down. “Can’t go back after this.” 

“Oh this is the tipping point? Fucking is gonna ruin it not you just making going down on me?” 

He rolls his eyes as he lines himself up with you, “what happened to that sweet girl I used to chase in the trailer park, huh?” 

You reach around your legs and grab his thick cock and lightly sink down onto it the head barely pushing past your puffy lips, “fuck…met a boy who grew up and started selling weed out of his van, kind of an asshole, really big dick though.”

He thrusts up into you so hard you nearly see black, vision spotty from pleasure alone, you whine his name and he practically comes undone.

“Don’t.. shit… don’t do that, I won’t last. Those noises haunt me… been wanting to hear them.”

He holds you tight and fucks you slowly, dragging his cock at a ridiculously slow speed. Groaning when you suck him in deep, biting his neck. 

“There it is, the noise that started this whole mess.” 

He grins into you stupidly, “I’m glad you’re perverted plan worked, you little hussy.” 

His hips move faster and your both whining, accompanied by the slapping of skin on skin. “Water heaters’ been out since last week, ‘m not stupid babe, you’re the one who called and asked.” 

“Whoops— oh my goddd,” you squeal before you're panting like a dog and clawing his arms with your nails, he was splitting you wide open and you were near to tears. 

The tears finally fall when Eddie bottoms out in your cunt, filling you up, grunting your name as he rests his forehead to your shoulder— completely spent. 

His lips kiss your collar bone and you twirl a curl away from his face exhausted around his softening length. 

“Princess,” he breathes, kissing life back into himself with the sweat from your skin, “if you wanted to fuck, you should have told me sooner, could have saved us a week of cold showers, y’know?” 

You kissed his lips, letting him set you down on the bed so you could both lay back in a lazy post sex high, surrounded by your blankets. 

“Well maybe you should have fixed it sooner, you are the maintenance manager of the building.”  

Eddie grins and pins you onto the mattress, his hair falling into your face, his thumb sweeping over your cheeks to catch a rogue eyelash, “come with me to fix it?” 

“Hmm..” fingers moving his hair behind his ear, “you gonna wear that slutty stained white tank top?” 

“Slutty? Why, gonna seduce me in the boiler room?” his lips move down your neck and you whimper. 

“Maybe…” you tease tickling his underarm, “so if I wouldn’t have barged into your room… what else would you have done?” 

Eddie only smiles, thinking of his plan to “break” the air conditioner and hide your hoodies and blankets so you’d have to come to him for warmth. 

“Let’s just say, you would have ended up as my girl one way or another.” 

steve tied up in readers room

taglist: @likedovesinthewnd @dashingdeb16 @joejoequinnquinn @min-geniusx @ho3forfakeguys @taintedcigs @b-irock @queenimmadolla @serasvictoria @the-unforgivenn @curlyjoequinn @munsonlore @eiightysixbaby @munsonburn3r

[runariya]

Crash Course in Love • 2

pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, fluff, tension, bad communication skills, jealousy, alcohol, smoking, heartbreak, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 17.3k

a/n: 19 days later and here's part 2 at last! hope you like it still and I can't wait to see your reactions lol DON’T HATE ME! LOVE YOU ALL 💕 ENJOY

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

01 • masterlist • 03

Day 2

There’s something about the way you crash after a day that’s drained you not just physically but emotionally too. After your bath and after you grabbed your luggage when you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t be in his room anymore, and with your stomach still full from the Korean BBQ at Tae’s, you passed out immediately. Yoongi’s snoring didn’t bother you in the slightest—if anything, the vibrations seemed to massage your sore body through the mattress.

You feel even more lost when you wake up just after 5:30 in the morning, fully rested but with muscles still stiff. You’re not sure if Tae’s smoothie did anything or if you’d feel completely dead now without it. It’s not that you want to go back to sleep either, knowing you’ll just wake up even more tired if you try, experience showing that extra hours do more harm than good. 

Not wanting to listen to Yoongi’s ongoing snoring any longer, you carefully slip out of bed without waking him and reach for the book you brought with you. But just as you’re about to head out of the suite, you stop, eyeing Yoongi’s coat. 

Should you?

You quit smoking months ago, only started when you broke things off with Jungkook, but just thinking about everything that was said yesterday—and what’s still to come—makes you struggle. You’ll probably hate yourself for it afterwards, but still, you go back to his coat and rummage for his cigarettes and lighter. 

Realising you only brought one pair of boots, which are currently at Hope’s, and there’s no way you’re stepping out into the snow in slippers or your snowboard boots, you grab Yoongi’s spare designer boots and your snowboard jacket as well. 

It’s impressive, really, that you manage to carry everything out of the room without dropping anything, and that Yoongi stays sound asleep despite the obvious rustling of your coat as you move.

You’re thankful Namjoon kept his word about keeping the fireplace lit, not just because its warmth meets you in the corridor but also for the soft glow it casts along the way to the main area.

Pausing for a second, you can hear Yoongi still snoring through the door, along with louder, muffled snores further down the corridor, which must be Namjoon’s. And, who would’ve thought, you hear some very light snoring coming from Jungkook’s room too.

It feels like you’re walking past caves in some forgotten time, surrounded by Neanderthals who snore more to fend off predators than from sinus problems. It’s funny in a way, you reckon. That’s just how biology works, even if you and every other woman in this world are the ones who suffer through the night because of it.

As you reach the main area, of course, you can’t manage all the things you’re holding, and your book falls to the floor, the sound louder than it should be. You think it didn’t wake anyone, but you’re not sure—Jungkook might be awake, he’s always been a light sleeper, though Namjoon’s snoring is too loud now to tell.

Not bothering to pick it up, knowing you’ll drop something else if you try, you kick the book towards the couches, hoping none of the great authors are cursing you for it. The heat of the fireplace, even though it’s only simmering, pulls you to sink back into the cushions once you’ve set your things down.

The hostel feels so much cosier than by daytime, long shadows casting a warm, festive glow like Christmas morning. You almost wish you’d spent the holiday here instead of alone at home.

Just yesterday, you longed for Jungkook to be by your side, to experience this place and this town with you. But now, even though he is here, it doesn’t feel as fulfilling as you thought it would.

Obviously, he’s been here before, and even when he’s spending time with you, it’s under circumstances you wish were different. It destroys you how things are, how you’re treating each other, how much hatred he clearly has for you now, just at the sight of you.

You understand his bitterness though, understand that he probably wishes he’d never seen you again. But what can you do? It’s not like you booked this hostel on purpose, as if you orchestrated the whole thing just to run into him.

No, it’s all just a coincidence. A brutal one at that. You didn’t have time to prepare yourself, didn’t have time to think about how you’d approach him after all this time, or what you’d say.

You reckon he feels the same—blindsided, overwhelmed, hurt. And he has every reason to be. Still, it hurts so deeply, so excruciatingly, that you just want to leave and never look back. It feels like there’s no saving your relationship with Jungkook, not even the hope of being friends.

Or maybe this trip will be the closure you need. Maybe it’ll be the final heartbreak, the one that’s been dragging on for far too long, but now will come to a head and let you move on, even though deep down you don’t want to. You’re sure Jungkook was the one for you—a love once in a lifetime, the one who got away.

Tossing the book from one hand to the other, your eyes can’t help but linger on the pack of cigarettes lying on the table in front of you. It’s dumb, smoking—you know that, always have. But God, you’re broken. You’re so, so sad, it’s suffocating. And you know it won’t help.

You know smoking, like any other addiction, is just a result of loneliness. That doesn’t make it any easier to resist.

You set the book down, slip into Yoongi’s boots again, and pull on your coat, ignoring the voice in your head telling you not to backslide, not to undo months of progress. But still, you ignore that voice as much as you ignore Namjoon’s snoring, and grab the pack and lighter and stand to head outside once you’re fully clothed. 

You’d forgotten about the chime when you open the front door, pausing for a moment as if it’s trying to stop you, but you keep moving, letting the door shut behind you as the early morning greets you. 

The streets are empty, the air biting cold. But the fairy lights are still on, their glow reflecting silently off the snow and ornaments, but you can’t bring yourself to enjoy it.

Your breath fogs with every exhale as you slowly open the cigarette pack, your hands turning rosy in the cold, warmth steaming off them like dumplings.

You take one out, slip the pack into your coat pocket, and toy with the cigarette between your fingers. 

Should you?

You know you shouldn’t.

You.

Know.

But no one’s here to stop you. Who would even care? So you put it between your dry lips and light it, guarding the flame with your hand as if to stop it from dying the way your heart did.

The first drag is equal parts disgusting and relieving, and soon, your thoughts start to fade. Your chest feels lighter, despite the toxins filling it. Maybe breaking up with Jungkook was the first step towards your own downfall. Maybe it was always meant to be.

The front door opens behind you when you’re halfway through your cigarette, but you don’t turn around. There are only three options for who might join you—Yoongi, up for his first smoke of the day; Namjoon, woken by the chime and curious to see what’s going on; or Jungkook. Though you wouldn’t know why it’d be the latter.

“Smoking kills.”

“So does snowboarding,” you reply through the puff of smoke escaping your lips.

“Fair.”

Silence. You can’t bring yourself to look at Jungkook, now standing beside you, both of you staring at some distant ornament, avoiding each other’s gaze.

“What are you doing out here this early?” he asks, as if it’s not obvious.

“Thought I’d get some fresh air.”

There’s no humour in your tone, just defeat, and those few words seem to sap the last bit of energy you have. You feel like you’ve had the same effect on Jungkook—his voice is as dry as yours.

“Funny.”

You know you can’t undo all the damage between you and Jungkook, but still, you want to at least be civil.

“I’m sorry you have to be our instructor. I didn’t know.”

“Sounds like you wouldn’t have booked it if you’d known.”

You shrug. “Probably.”

“Is seeing me again really that unbearable?”

It is.

Of course it is. But only because you can’t bear seeing him having moved on. So you shrug again.

“I see.”

You take the last drag of your cigarette, drop it into the snow, and stomp it out before immediately reaching for another.

“It’s really bad for you.”

“Why do you care, Jungkook?”

“Because you—”

“Please, just let me be, Jungkook.”

It’s desperate, your plea, resigned. And when you finally lock eyes with him, it almost hurts as much as on the day you broke up with him. He looks like he’s stepped straight out of a dream, the smoke from your cigarette swirling up into the sky between you. He’s so beautiful, especially in the morning when he’s just rolled out of bed. But his hurt eyes—hurt that you caused—are something you can’t handle.

“I never did you wrong.”

His words hit like a slap, and you reckon you deserve it, deserve even more, so you let him continue, knowing he’s far from done.

“Why did you leave me?”

You can’t meet his eyes now. Not just because tears burn in the corners of both yours and his, but because you can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth—that you were never worthy of him. That you were never the one for him, not when he’s found someone like Hara, who fits him so much better. So you shrug again, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as your shaky hands lift the cigarette to your lips for another long drag, hoping he’ll think it’s just the cold affecting you, not the emotions welling up inside.

“God, ___.” You see Jungkook look up at the dark sky, rubbing his hands violently against his face and eyes in your peripheral vision. You’re not sure if it’s out of anger, frustration, or pain, and you’re not sure you want to know.

“I’m sorry,” you force out, losing the fight against your tears as they silently roll down your cheeks. Quickly, you turn around, trying to make it back inside before Jungkook notices your breakdown. 

“For leaving me, or for being with me in the first place?”

“Both.”

You don’t stop, can’t stop even if you tried. Bolting straight into the hostel, you leave your book where you placed it earlier, your only aim to escape, to get to your suite as fast as possible. Away from all you’ve done and can’t take back. 

It’s not like it’s really possible for you to get away from Jungkook, not when he’s still not only very much physically present but still consumes every thought and every space in your heart. It breaks you to see his pain, breaks you even more because you don’t know how to fix it. You’ve created a mess, of the whole situation and of your and his heart, that’s impossible to mend now.

Even if you could, the hurt has left wounds and open scars, which won’t ever heal, especially on Jungkook’s soul, and you reckon he’ll never want you back to begin with.

The door to the suite slams shut behind you, waking up Yoongi, who just turns to look at your broken self, tears still running down in waves.

“Talked to Jungkook?”

“Yes,” you sob.

“Next time, try at daytime, it’s not as emo.”

Well, thank you very much. As if that would have changed a thing. But you don’t bicker this time, knowing that somewhere in Yoongi’s words lies the truth, even if you’re not able to accept it in this moment.

Kicking off his boots and yeeting them across the room where he placed them before you took them, and letting your coat fall off your shoulders, you don’t pay attention to Yoongi’s scolding, disappearing into the bathroom to take a cleansing shower, or rather, to let all the emotions and tears out without being bothered and without being a bother to Yoongi.

It doesn’t take long before the hot water mixes with your tears and for you recognise that you need to somehow get your head straight, or get it checked, because it’s only the second day. A lot more is to come, and you’ll be regretting it if you just wave the white flag and leave. If there’s nothing else you can do, nothing that can help you heal and move on, you want to at least help Jungkook to do so.

You owe it to him, and frankly, that was the main point of why you broke up in the first place. You’ll need to forget your own hurt for the time being, answer all his questions without breaking down again, and you’ll start with that as soon as you’re out of the shower.

“Hurry up! I need to take a piss!”

You’re glad you had half a mind to lock the door, but still, the banging of Yoongi’s fist disturbs you so much, you won’t be able to neither cry nor think in peace.

“Ten more minutes!”

“I’ll piss on your pillow! Open the fucking door!”

Ew. Sighing, you rinse the rest of your shampoo out, hurrying to at least wrap a towel around yourself before unlocking the door. You’re not able to push the handle down because Yoongi bolts inside, ripping his pants down and immediately starting to empty his bladder.

“Ew, gross!”

“Next time, your pillow, ___,” Yoongi sighs, but you’ve already fled the scene. As relatives, you’re close, yes, but not that close.

Nonetheless, you’re thankful for this distraction, even if it just helped you not be dragged further into the blue.

Hearing Yoongi close and lock the bathroom door and turning on the shower does the rest as you now stand fully dressed, with dripping wet hair, in the middle of the suite.

You know there’s no way he’ll open that door back up again, even if you’d knock as violently as he did just now. He simply doesn’t give a fuck. So you see no other option but to get some breakfast with wet hair, knowing there’s not much time left before you’re back on the slopes, or rather the beginner’s hill.

The corridor is empty again, though you hear some chatter from Namjoon and Jungkook down the way. Taking a very deep breath, you try to school your face into happiness, or at least neutrality.

You find both with Jimin in the dining area, the latter unpacking his bread and some pastries onto the table.

“Good morning,” you try to sound as cheerful as possible, but as you lock eyes with Jungkook, you know he notices the red rim around your eyes.

“Hey! Look what I’ve got for you.” Jimin practically explodes with happiness as he gets a see-through box of macarons out of his paper bag.

“No way! Jimin, that wasn’t necessary! Thank you!” You can’t help the genuine smile that spreads across your face, hands eagerly grabbing for them as you unbox them against your stomach, too occupied to even sit down.

“But I wanted to. I’ve never seen someone so obsessed with these.” Jimin laughs his beautiful laugh at your already stuffed smile, as Namjoon just smirks, and Jungkook, well…Jungkook just seems odd.

“Here, at least sit down.” Namjoon offers you the chair beside him, and to be honest, you’d much rather sit somewhere else than face Jungkook, but there’s nothing you can do.

You don’t thank Namjoon this time when he pushes the chair for you to sit down, too embarrassed by your chewing. You shouldn’t have put two macarons in your mouth at once.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Jungkook stays silent throughout it all, just watching you, especially watching Namjoon carefully, while you avoid eye contact. Jimin, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes from flickering between you and Jungkook with a broad smile, as if he senses something’s wrong. He takes the last empty chair at the small table and sits between you and Jungkook.

“Black, so you’re not overdosed.” Namjoon places your coffee in front of you as his eyes also flick to Jungkook, and you’re not sure what’s happening right now.

“Hold up, hold up, I’ve got my favourite with me. Just for you, ___. You liked it the first time, right?” Jimin pulls out a cup of iced Americano from his bag, this time in a fitting container, but you can’t seem to understand why he’d bring you this when, despite you loving it, it hurts you just as much and he knows it. 

“You know,” Jimin continues with a glint in his eyes that not only makes you uneasy, but clearly Jungkook as well, the latter looking two seconds away from punching Jimin square in the face. “It’s called ‘Only Love’. Right, C? You created it.”

Ah, that makes a lot of sense now. What doesn’t make sense is you choking on the macaron. You should have put two and two together, to be honest, should have seen the connection the moment Jungkook appeared in front of you with everyone in this forsaken town being friends with him, but frankly, you didn’t.

You haven’t been thinking clearly for years, and you reckon it has something to do with Yoongi, who, even though he’s the only constant in your life now, is equal parts disturbing and unable to help you balance your emotions. Not that it’s his job, but being a bit less insufferable would be nice and a welcome change.

Jimin’s still holding the cup towards you, for longer than would feel just friendly, but now you see all the evil clearly. You don’t really know what to do, especially when you look at Jungkook and see him more pissed than you’ve ever seen before. Should you even take it?

“I… I think I’ll stick to black. Not that I really overdose on sugar or anything.” You stammer, wanting the earth to swallow you up rather than this shit morning continuing into a day full of hatred towards you.

Jungkook just scoffs at that, and you’re sure you hear him mutter “of fucking course, perfect timing” just as Yoongi enters the dining room.

“Morning,” Yoongi mumbles, and right as he’s about to sit at another table, Jimin places the Americano in front of you and gets up.

“No, please, sit down. I was just about to leave.”

Jungkook attempts to call Jimin out on his bullshit, but shuts his mouth in an instant when Yoongi claps Jimin on the back and sits down between you both. Turning to Namjoon, he’s still very much smirking as if he’s figured out the whole situation with you and Jungkook, especially when both his legs nudge yours and his, as if daring you both to say something.

“Bye!” Jimin sings as he’s out of the room before anyone can even breathe.

“You forgot your phone in our room.” Yoongi grumbles, stealing some macarons from you as if they were M&M’s, and preparing his plate. “A coffee please.”

“Black?” Namjoon’s grin spreads across his whole face as he gets up to fetch Yoongi’s order, because, dear lord, it wasn’t a kindly meant request.

“You got it.”

As if the morning hadn’t already strangled your emotions enough, your blood’s now boiling because Yoongi couldn’t just bring your stupid phone with him as if that would have been the greatest task in the world. But somehow, seeing Jungkook’s mood crash even more, you’re glad to have a moment to escape the scene, hoping that when you return, it won’t be with police tape around the place.

You don’t have the faintest idea what’s up with him. It’s not like he’s just mad at you—although you know he definitely is. Hell, you’d be mad at yourself if you were him. But something else must’ve happened, something that’s got him this wound up, not only at the sight of you and Yoongi, but his friends too.

It’s no surprise to find your phone where Yoongi said it would be, and seeing it now, face down, you’re beyond thankful he didn’t just hand it to you in front of everyone.

You just want to grab it quickly and shove it into the tight pocket of your leggings, thinking it’s lying on the info sheet from Namjoon, when Yoongi’s handwriting catches your attention. Black ink, neatly written down for all time:

‘Future’s gonna be okay.’

It soothes and breaks your heart all at once, especially when you spot a teeny tiny black heart too. Yoongi might argue it’s just a splatter from the pen, but you know better. Being close to your cousin is a rollercoaster in every imaginable way, but it’s worth it. Because he cares. Because he’ll understand, even if he doesn’t always show it the way you need.

Taking a very, very deep, steadying breath, you leave the note where it is, knowing you’ll definitely need it when you come back tonight, after what will surely be a wonderful day with Jungkook. You just hope you survive it.

Snowboarding doesn’t even scare you as much as Jungkook does. But you steel yourself not to panic, not to freak out about how clueless you are. Time will tell. Future’s gonna be okay.

And with that thought, you head back to the others, wanting something more substantial in your stomach than sugary sweets.

“Odd?”

“Yeah, odd,” Jungkook growls, and you stop short before entering the room again.

“I think I’m treating her just right for who she is to me,” Yoongi laughs, and you can hear the mischief in his voice, full of shit and in full wind-up mode.

There’s no way you’re really letting this turn into a crime scene, so you march into the room, eyes boring into the back of Yoongi’s head, knowing he’ll feel it.

Thankfully, no one says anything, but the looks speak volumes. Jungkook’s glaring daggers at you, Namjoon’s got that worried, torn look like a parent watching their toddler near the stairs, and Yoongi’s just…amused.

Frankly, your appetite’s vanished, and you don’t want to risk sitting down and getting dragged into whatever mess you’re missing today.

“When do we leave?” You ask Jungkook directly, using a tired, fed-up tone you haven’t dared yet.

It seems to do the trick, sobering everyone up as they take their last bites and gulps of coffee, getting ready to move.

Namjoon, ever the sweetheart, hands you the americano, and this time, you’re grateful for it. Screw the memories—you need caffeine to get through this day. A shot of something stronger in it might’ve been better, but alas.

“Thanks, Joon.”

That, of course, earns you a dirty look from Jungkook and an amused one from Yoongi.

“I’ll just grab my stuff real quick.”

“Yeah, we’re waiting in our slippers,” Yoongi says drily, overtaking Jungkook by the door, who looks at you like he can’t believe this is happening.

You ignore them both, turning to Namjoon to escape the drama, but only stumble into another one instead.

“So he’s your ex.”

You groan, shoulders slumping along with your coffee, exasperated as you realise Namjoon’s got you alone.

“Kinda obvious.”

“It is. Some other things are obvious too.”

You give him a long stare, the kind of stare you’ve perfected from hours of silent contests with Jungkook, but Namjoon, who’s obviously used to this too, isn’t fazed the slightest.

“Spill.”

“You’re both adults. Talk.”

Yeah, like it’s that simple. Sit down, have a rational, level-headed chat with Jungkook? Not likely.

“Thanks for breakfast. I’m out.”

You throw a peace sign over your shoulder, knowing you’re not getting anything more out of him, whether he’s right or wrong.

Being civil with Jungkook would be step one before you could even dream of a productive conversation. But based on how this breakfast is going, hell, the whole stay up until now, it’s clear that ‘civil’ is something you’ll never be when it comes to Jungkook. 

“Here.” Yoongi’s brought you your boots and gear, and the reason is instantly clear when Jungkook reappears, glaring at Yoongi like he’s about to snap.

“Could you both please be civil? I’d like to enjoy this holiday,” you snap, so utterly fed up, wishing you could put them both in time-out.

“Sorry,” Yoongi and Jungkook mumble in unison, but the looks they exchange right after make the apology feel pointless.

Even though you’re still struggling way more than you should with these snowboard boots—which surely came straight out of hell just to make your life that little bit more difficult—you still don’t let anyone help you. Not Jungkook, who stopped moving towards you after you shot him an evil glare, and not Yoongi, who suffered the same fate.

Eventually, you manage, somehow. And when you’re ready to go, the three of you grab your snowboards, which are leaning against the wall near the fireplace. It’s not easy to carry yours on your own, especially when the sharp edge cuts into your gloved palm and your other hand is occupied with your Americano. The bindings are digging into your forearm with their stupid weight distribution, but there’s no way you’re going to drag it any other way. Not when you’re not willing to sacrifice your caffeine—that’s just not happening in any lifetime of yours.

Yoongi, for once, is chivalrous enough to open the door for you, but you can’t really appreciate it like you would under normal circumstances. Your nerves are running thin—so thin you’re half-tempted to just smash the chime to dust with your snowboard to shut it up yourself. But you’re not strong enough, and with your luck, Jungkook—who’s walking right behind you—would probably end up on the receiving end of your terrible aim.

No one says a word during the entire walk to the hill, which, now that you think about it, feels worse than all the snide remarks. It’s not like fighting—or going straight for each other’s throats—is the best solution, but this simmering tension isn’t much better either. And you reckon it’s only a matter of time before someone goes off like a bloody nuclear bomb.

Though the real question is, who?

You’d love nothing more than to get inside Jungkook’s head, to take a peek at whatever thoughts are running through his pretty head and figure out why he’s been acting like this—irrational around others, but all sentimental when it’s just the two of you. It’s starting to seriously grate on your nerves.

Seeing that he wants to talk about everything that went down between you both is something you never thought would happen. But his approach? Not ideal. There’s no way you’re having a deep conversation with him before the day has even properly started, and definitely not in the middle of the street. And you’d much rather not have this conversation with others around too, thank you very much.

But the thing is, you’re still not sure if you want to be alone with him. What if your resolve to be all mature and talk like adults crumbles the second he looks at you with those sad eyes again? What if he’s just looking for answers so he can have the closure you know you’ll never get?

The thought feels selfish in every possible way. It disgusts you too, but you’re only human, not some robot who can function without feeling, without knowing what love or losing it is.

You let out a loud sigh, no longer able to bear the weight of the world—or the burning gaze of Jungkook boring into your back. 

“S’up?” Yoongi nudges you causing you to sway, the heavy drag of your boots not helping either. 

“Just enjoying the fresh air.” You bullshit, stepping right up the snow at the base of the beginners hill. 

“The only thing getting fresh air are my middle ears. Fucking feel the inflammation building.”

You’re sure Jungkook hadn’t intended to snort at Yoongi’s remark, but even he can’t seem to resist the humour in the nonsense that sometimes escapes Yoongi’s mouth.

“Some air gonna knock you out?” you tease, trying to nudge Yoongi back, though you fail miserably.

Thankfully, Jungkook’s quick enough to steady you with a free hand before you face-plant into the snow, which is far from the fluffy stuff it was yesterday—now hard as stone.

“You know you’re old when air’s hurting you, ___. You’ll understand when you’re my age.”

You hope that‘ll not be true. 

“Alright,” Jungkook claps once, and you and Yoongi fall into line in front of him after setting your boards and coffee aside. “Yesterday we covered most of the snowboarding theory. Three important things. What are they?”

Silence.

“Awareness, balance, control.”

It’s clear Jungkook’s waiting for something, and after a few agonising moments of just staring at each other, it clicks. He wants you to repeat what he said.

“Awareness,” you start, but Yoongi either hasn’t caught on or really doesn’t care, but you give him a nudge, and eventually, the two of you echo back Jungkook’s words.

“Awareness, balance, control.”

“Right, now, while we’re at it—let’s talk a bit more theory. After awareness, balance, and control, it’s all about anticipation. You can’t just react to things at the last minute, yeah? You’ve got to anticipate the changes. Know what’s coming. Whether it’s an obstacle in your path, a turn, or… someone doing something you didn’t expect.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook! Man up and say it to my face if you’ve got something to say!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Fuck you did! And you—shut your fucking mouth!” You jab your gloved finger at Yoongi, who stops laughing immediately.

You’re not sure what’s gotten into Jungkook to act so irrational again, but whatever it is, you’ve had enough. Either he stays professional during the lesson, or you’re out. This kind of treatment—whatever you did to him or not—isn’t something you’ll tolerate. Not from him, not from anyone.

Jungkook seems to realise his mistake, or maybe he just doesn’t have the guts to confront you directly about what’s been bothering him. You reckon after all these years, he still hasn’t learned how to communicate properly. Then again, you’re not exactly great at that either.

“How about you stick to teaching during the course and stay in your lane? How about I can at least enjoy this for a few hours?”

Jungkook just nods, not the least approving, and if it weren’t for Yoongi placing a hand on your heaving shoulder and sucking his teeth, you might’ve lunged at Jungkook and strangled him right then and there.

“Right, well, before we get onto the boards, we need to warm up. Can’t have you both pulling muscles before you even touch the snow properly.”

“Please, no running,” Yoongi mutters under his breath.

“No, no running. First up, let’s stretch. Loosen up those muscles. Very important. Otherwise, you might… strain yourself. And trust me, some people,” he side-eyes you, “have a habit of rushing into things without getting properly prepared or listening to what the other person has to say.”

You grit your teeth. Oh, you’re so ready to kill him. If looks could kill, both you and Jungkook would be dead by now. “What the fuck is your problem?” you seethe dangerously low. 

“So, what are we doing first? Jumping jacks? Star jumps?” Yoongi asks sarcastically, more to defuse the situation than out of any real interest in actually participating in this course.

“No, mate. We’re not at boot camp. Just a simple warm-up to start. Arms, legs, get the blood flowing.” Jungkook begins rolling his shoulders and doing some arm circles. “Follow me. Arms out, nice and wide. Slow circles. Loosen up your shoulders. You need a good range of movement, especially when you’re… navigating tricky situations.”

You and Yoongi do your best to follow along, despite the thick jackets. Opting to be the bigger person here, you do your best to ignore Jungkook’s pointed glances and the occasional gust of cold air grazing your stomach whenever you raise your arms too high.

“Good. Now, bend forward, touch your toes—well, try to. Don’t force it. Some people are naturally more flexible than others, but hey, no rush.”

Throughout the whole stretching exercises, you keep your mouth shut, knowing that playing into his madness wouldn’t do either of you any good. You just can’t process it all at this point. And how could you?

Since the moment you stepped foot into this stupid little town, you haven’t had a minute to think. Especially not after Jungkook entered your life again. You’re jealous of all the people out there who can adapt to every moment, who aren’t as utterly pathetic at handling things as you are.

It must be genetics, because, dear lord, you’ve never been good at handling tricky situations, but the ones involving your ex are on another level. You can tell yourself to be cool and collected as much as you want, but at the end of the day, Jungkook will always trigger you.

And if it’s not with his passive-aggressive remarks, it’s with his broken sadness.

“Perfect. Let’s move on then. Before we get into the snowboards, I’ll just have to adjust your bindings real quick, and then we’ll start. For that, I’ll need to see which foot of yours is the dominant one.”

Jungkook walks silently behind you both, looking down at the snow with a slight frown on his lips while you follow his movements with your eyes.

“I’ll start with you, Yoongi. Relax your stance, I’ll push you from behind. Don’t think too much, just catch yourself, yeah?”

Jungkook’s now standing directly behind Yoongi, and as he raises his hand and places it on Yoongi’s back, right between his shoulder blades, your gut twists, fearing Jungkook might push him too hard, letting his anger out because he can’t restrain himself.

But to your relief, Jungkook pushes Yoongi ever so lightly, causing the older man to take a step forward, landing on his right foot.

“Right foot back, your stance is regular.” Jungkook just nods to himself, moving on to stand behind you now. “Your turn, ___. Again, just relax, don’t overthink it. I’ll push you now.”

How can you stay relaxed when Jungkook’s now directly behind you, when you not only feel the weight of his hand on your back but imagine you can feel the warmth of it too? It nearly leaves you gasping, not used to Jungkook touching you anymore.

“Relax,” Jungkook mutters ever so softly, causing your shoulders to drop as you take a deep breath, willing yourself to block him out as best you can.

The push is gentle, and while you take a step forward out of reflex, it’s the same reflex that misses his hand on your back.

“Left is your dominant foot, so goofy’s your stance.”

“Goofy?!”

It sounds offensive. Does it sound offensive? Because both Yoongi and Jungkook look at you, puzzled by your outburst.

Wasn’t that another jab?

“Yeah, it’s called goofy,” Jungkook says, Yoongi nodding as if to tell you to calm down.

“Oh. Okay.”

Jungkook pulls a tiny toolbox from the inner pocket of his jacket while you follow Yoongi, who’s picking up his board. He takes Yoongi’s snowboard first, placing it on his bent knee and unscrewing the first binding.

“Forefoot 18 degrees, back foot 7 degrees,” Yoongi mutters, not the least bit mocking. 

You’re not sure why Yoongi has a preference, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to question it, just nodding and adjusting Yoongi’s bindings to his liking.

When it’s your turn, Jungkook still doesn’t say anything as he takes the board from your hands, and while the adjustments look just the same as Yoongi’s to you, it’s clear both men see the difference as Yoongi interjects, “Fix the left one a bit more outwards, it’ll give her more control.”

Jungkook looks up at that, not angered, not ready to snap, as his eyes flit briefly to you before he eventually just nods and does as Yoongi suggested. Maybe not playing into Jungkook’s remarks earlier was the right course of action, seeing that even though it’s still awkward between you three, it’s more civil than it was before.

Jungkook stuffs his toolbox back into his pocket and turns to grab his own snowboard. As he straps his right foot into the binding, he calls out, “Fasten your front foot onto the board. We’re practising gliding.”

Yoongi does as instructed without a hitch, but you’re struggling a bit. The straps keep getting in the way, making it impossible to secure your foot properly.

Without a word, Jungkook hops over, dragging his board behind him, and quickly fastens the bindings for you.

“Thanks,” you mutter, but he doesn’t meet your eyes, just nods before heading back in front of you both.

“So, it’s simple. Push yourself forward with your free foot, step on the board, and glide for as long as you can. It’ll help you get a feel for the board. And remember—where you look is where you go. Look down, you’ll fall. Look forward, and you’ll be fine as long as your balance is decent.”

Jungkook demonstrates the glide with ease, while Yoongi follows suit right after, looking like he’s done this before, making it seem like a breeze. 

Alright, how hard can it be?

Turns out, pretty damn hard. As soon as you try, your arms flail like mad, desperately trying to regain balance. You stumble forward, managing to catch yourself at the last second, but not before the board lifts off the ground and slams right into your calf.

“Ouch!”

It hurts like hell, and you’re certain a bruise is already forming.

“Take it slow, no rush,” Jungkook says, not even glancing back.

You try a few more times, and while it feels like you’re going to lose a leg by the end of the day, you’re slowly getting the hang of it.

Yoongi’s already finished, standing beside Jungkook and watching you like some proud parent their child who’s learning to swim. You don’t mind though—better that than getting frustrated watching him nail everything effortlessly.

“That’s great, let’s move up the hill and practise side slipping. It’s like a lazy way to snowboard, but it’s useful.”

Dragging yourself up the hill feels like a workout in itself with your board still clasped onto your foot, your calf still throbbing from earlier.

“First things first,” Jungkook’s bending down to his board, “strap your other foot in as well. You want to be on your heel edge or your toe edge. We’ll start with heels, ‘cause if you start on your toes and mess up, you’ll just end up pissed off.”

Once again, Jungkook demonstrates the technique, and once again, Yoongi seems to pick it up straight away. Meanwhile, you’re down on your ass every other minute, frustration building but refusing to quit just yet. Jungkook lets you keep at it until you’ve finally got the hang of it, while Yoongi again just stands there with him, chatting the day away, apparently needing no extra practice.

“Why doesn’t he have to practise?” you yell down the hill.

“Because he doesn’t need to.”

You’re fuming, but deep down you know Jungkook’s right. Still, Yoongi’s supposed to be doing this with you, not just standing there like a supervisor. The anger helps though, because as you slide down the hill again, it’s smooth and controlled—and you feel damn proud of yourself.

“Alright, next exercise. We’re going to slide down on your toe edge now. Flip over so you’re facing up the hill, with your toes digging into the snow.”

You’re already panting from the climb back up the hill, but there’s no rest in sight. Jungkook leaves his board behind as you drag yourself up again, determined to finish this.

“Now,” Jungkook says, “bend your knees, lean forward slightly—like you’re bowing to a king. Lift your heels off the snow, so you’re balanced on your toes. And don’t panic if it feels weird at first. Yoongi, can you please demonstrate?”

“Sure,” Yoongi says, nailing the move effortlessly.

You can’t figure out why Yoongi’s suddenly Jungkook’s little helper, or why Jungkook’s board is still down the hill, but you focus on trying to imitate Yoongi’s technique. You get into position, dig your toes in, but the next second, you slip, barely catching yourself before faceplanting into the snow.

Jungkook’s by your side in seconds, pulling you up by the arms. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you pant, swallowing the panic that’s rising in your chest. But your grip on his arms gives away just how terrified you are.

“Come on, I’ll help you.”

Jungkook’s hands slide down your arms until he’s holding your hands securely, but just as quickly, he lets go. You immediately lose your balance, nearly falling backwards as your whole life flashes before your eyes.

“Shit!” His hands grab you at the last second, keeping you from toppling over.

“Don’t just let go like that!”

“Why are your gloves this wet?”

You don’t have time to defend yourself against Jungkook’s scolding as he abruptly forces his leg between yours, angling his heel between the snow and your board to keep you in place and balance. 

The proximity to Jungkook has an instant effect on you. Your brain shuts down, and though your blood is rushing through your veins at an overwhelming speed, it somehow calms you down just the same.

Being this close to him, not only seeing him but feeling all of his body pressed against yours, mixed with his intoxicating scent, makes you never want to let go of him again.

“Hold onto me,” he murmurs softly, the closeness making it unnecessary to speak any louder than a breath.

You can’t help yourself, staring at his face, even though he’s avoiding eye contact as he removes your gloves, letting them fall silently behind him. You reckon he hasn’t changed much—just a few piercings and some faint lines caused by age now marking his otherwise mesmerising face. But still, he’s the same.

The same lashes framing his big eyes, the same kissable lips now a bit cracked from the cold, the same glowing skin with that faint scar on his cheek.

It throws you back in time but also makes you ache for all the time spent apart. It’s impossible to feel resentment for the harsh things he’s said, impossible to feel anything but the deep love you still have for him. It’s impossible to look away, even though he isn’t meeting your gaze, busy tugging off his gloves with his teeth.

When his hand reaches for yours, wrapping them in the warmth of his own gloves, you feel like you might break right then and there. You’ve been a fool for pushing him away, for ending things in the first place, when he’s always been this good to you—even now, after all these years.

When Jungkook finally finishes and his eyes meet yours for the first time, you don’t dare breathe, even if you physically could. It’s like the heartbreak never happened, healed by the closeness of two hearts that know they can only beat as one.

You see it in his eyes, like you always could back then, that he feels it too—or at least something close to what you feel.

“I never meant to hurt you,” you manage to say, your voice breaking ever so faintly, with a slight sheen of tears coating your eyes.

“I know,” Jungkook smiles ever so softly, as if he’s always known, as if he understands. But still, he steps back, leaving you cold and longing again, only holding your hands just firmly enough to help you keep your balance. “Try again, toes in the snow, knees bent.”

You swallow the hurt down, knowing you’ve got no right to feel this way, and with Jungkook’s help, you slide down the hill. You succeed, but as soon as you reach the base, Jungkook steps back completely, walking over to Yoongi while instructing, “Try again now on your own.”

And you do. Multiple times until you master it as best you can, all while you know you’re being watched by the two most important men in your life.

Lunch is spent in a tiny fast-food restaurant nearby, just because you’re so hungry you can’t wait ages for a proper meal. Jungkook excuses himself to take a phone call, and you notice a picture of Hara on his screen, though you weren’t fast enough to see whose name was at the top, or if it’s his lock screen or Hara’s contact picture.

“Why are you so good at snowboarding?” you try to sound angry, though your mouth is stuffed, hoping Yoongi can still make sense of the words.

“I’ve been snowboarding before.”

“You what?” You swallow the bite forcefully, needing space to articulate the insults he deserves. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why am I paying for a crash course for you?”

“I didn’t thi—”

“Why the fuck have I paid for and rented your gear?!”

Yoongi goes silent, eating his meal like he’s bored, giving you time to yell at him some more before he speaks. But you don’t, just widen your eyes and shake your head to emphasise how livid you are.

“I didn’t think you’d want to come alone.”

“That’s such a shit excuse, Yoongs. You should have at least paid for yourself. Fucking parasite.”

“Yo, show some respect. You said you’d pay for everything. It’s not like I forced you.”

“Forced me?! You wouldn’t have come otherwise!”

“I can still hang in our suite and leave you alone with Mr. Leaf-in-the-wind.”

“That’s rude.”

“It’s true, and you know it.”

He’s kinda right. But you can see where Jungkook’s coming from, somehow understand why he’s acting the way he does.

You sigh at that, leaning back with another mouthful of food, knowing you should really work on your manners. “You’re not leaving me alone with him. No way.”

“If you say so.”

You startle slightly when Jungkook slides into the seat beside you, hoping he didn’t catch any of what was said while he was gone. And even though you’re dying to know who was calling, you’d rather strip bare in the middle of the restaurant than ask, not wanting to look like some jealous, controlling ex-girlfriend.

“Hara called,” you fucking knew it. “Said Namjoon’s arranged dinner at Jin’s.”

You and Yoongi just hum, though you reckon you’re the only one finding it rude. But who can blame you? You are jealous, you are a fucking control freak, and Jungkook looking the way he does definitely doesn’t help.

You hadn’t noticed before, thanks to his oversized clothes, just how buff he’s become. But seeing him now, his upper body hugged by thermal gear so tight it might as well be see-through, makes you even pettier than you already were at the mention of Hara. And how could you not be?

Clearly, he’s been working out more since you split. Maybe you were holding him back from getting in shape too. It’s funny—you always thought Jungkook peaked while he was with you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You force the rest of your meal down in silence, occasionally glancing up at Jungkook and Yoongi, who are doing the same. It’s not like you want this silence to linger, but you don’t know what to say, and neither do they.

It’s slightly bothering you that both men were comfortable enough to chat the whole morning away while you were busy trying not to face-plant into the snow, and now can’t seem to say a single word with you around. Maybe you were the problem all along. 

Ugh, you hate having those thoughts again, especially since you’ve made such progress with your self-esteem recently, and now it’s crashing back down, spiralling like something you can’t escape.

When everyone’s finally finished, you pack up your things and step back outside into the cold, hoping the rest of the day goes by as civilly as the last few hours have been. 

Hours later, you’re spent. So utterly spent you’re sure you won’t make it to Jin’s without falling asleep midway through. Like Snow White, you want to lie down and sleep, and for no one to kiss you awake. Though, if you think about it, Jungkook would make a formidable prince.

Stop. You can’t think like this, you won’t allow such homewrecker thoughts. Not when things went well after lunch and there’s hope you can talk shit out.

After finally managing to learn how to take turns on that snowboard straight out of hell, and now being able to proudly say you can get down the beginners’ hill without breaking a single bone, you feel more accomplished than you ever have. Still, you hate snowboarding, and still won’t be doing it again once the two weeks are up.

“Why aren’t we eating at the hostel?”

You didn’t mean to say it out loud, not with Namjoon walking right beside you, and it might come off as though you’re calling him out for saying he’d be your chef during the trip, but hasn’t cooked a single thing for you yet. Namjoon’s blush only deepens your regret, though he takes it in stride.

“Well…uhm…I just thought that—”

“He can’t cook to save his life.” Jungkook interrupts Namjoon’s clear attempt to save face, and you’d never expected to see such a smug look on Jungkook’s face while throwing his friend under the bus.

“Oh, that’s cute. Plenty of women like to cook for their man.” You nudge Namjoon, hoping it’ll ease the tension just a little.

“Ah, I don’t know about that.”

“Did you watch the game?” Jungkook asks, louder than necessary, slowing his pace so he falls in beside Namjoon, forcing you to step aside to avoid colliding with his stupid back. 

The glare he sends your way matches your own, and you’re sure you can read in his eyes that he wants you to back off from his friend. You barely register what Namjoon and Yoongi are talking about, something vivid about an epic basketball game, too caught up in a silent conversation with Jungkook about what his problem is—and yours. But it’s like you’re out of sync, all questions missed, and answers elusive throughout the whole short walk to Jin’s. 

You hadn’t expected Jin’s to be such a lavish restaurant. Despite having the same rustic feel as the rest of the town, there’s a touch of poshness that makes it more enchanting than any other place you’ve been.

Jungkook wastes no time after stepping inside behind you, passing you to get to the bar where Hara and Hope are perched. Sadly, or maybe thankfully, you don’t see how he greets them, as a man steps into your view, broad shoulders blocking everything else.

“Welcome! I’m Jin! You must be ___.”

Jin practically squeezes you to death with his hug, your sore muscles protesting at how tight he holds you. You can’t hold back your laugh, not only because his greeting is the warmest you’ve ever received, but because you know the moment he lets go of you, he’ll do the same to Yoongi.

“Thanks for having us, Jin,” you squeak, tapping his back in hopes it’ll make him release you.

“Oh please, I’m so thrilled to finally meet you both.” Jin beams down at you before turning to throw himself at Yoongi, just as you predicted. “Yoongi, hi!”

“Please let go of me.” But Jin doesn’t listen, and you think he squeezes your grumpy cousin even tighter than before until he finally lets him go too.

“I’ve prepared a whole course for you three. I know Jungkook can be a bit demanding with his food, so I’ll make sure you’re well fed.”

Jin guides you to a table near the bar, and like the little control freak you are, you opt for the chair that gives you a view of the whole restaurant, including the bar. You don’t have a great view of Jungkook and Hara, though, as Namjoon is standing perfectly in front of them, but you think you see Hara leaning against Jungkook.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, twisting the knife of jealousy oh-so-slowly in your gut. You’re not sure how Jungkook could have found someone new so quickly, especially after telling you over and over again that you were the love of his life. Maybe it was just heartbreak that drove him to find solace in someone else. Maybe it’s just a hungry heart wanting to be fed with a fraction of love.

But you don’t want to assume that Hara’s love for him can’t compete with yours. Even though a part of you is certain that what you felt—and still feel—for him is beyond anything humanly possible. And even if her love for him is pure, yours will always outshine hers. Or maybe that’s just the green-eyed monster talking, infecting your thoughts.

But so be it. There’s nothing left to lose after you lost Jungkook, after you lost yourself, not just during your relationship with him, but in so much more.

Jin takes your drink order, and while at first you thought a Diet Coke would be nice after today, you opt for a whole bottle of wine. Not to share. Oh no, it’s entirely for yourself, because if you’re going to spend the evening witnessing Jungkook with his new flame, you’re definitely not doing it sober.

“You look jealous.”

“You don’t say.”

“Talk to him.”

“About what, Yoongs?” you snap as quietly as possible, fingers digging into the tablecloth to stop yourself from losing it. “How he’s fucking that model? Or how easy it was for him to move on?”

“That would be a start.”

“You’re ridiculous. Now shut up, they’re coming over.”

It’s not like you want to stare, but seeing Jungkook so at ease with Hara makes your stomach turn. And why Yoongi had to sit opposite you, leaving no other option but for Hara and Jungkook to sit on either side of you, is something you’ll never forgive him for.

“Hey!” Hara greets you both so warmly that you regret bashing her in your thoughts. Even if she’s Jungkook’s girlfriend, she’s always been nice to you.

“Hey, how have you been?”

Jin takes this moment to bring over a tray full of drinks. Yoongi has a beer, Hara a glass of water like Jungkook—yuck—and he sets the whole bottle of wine with a fitting glass in front of you. You should feel embarrassed, but you really don’t.

“You want some too?” you ask Hara out of politeness, knowing Jungkook never drinks during the week, as you pour yourself a generous first glass of your survival drink, wanting nothing more than to down it all before dinner starts.

“Oh no, thank you! I’m pregnant.”

The bottle’s still in your hand, but the glass is already at your lips with a hearty sip in your mouth, which you promptly snort back into the glass. You’re not sure if the tears springing to your eyes are just from the wine burning your sinuses and uncontrollably coughs or from your heart crumbling into dust at this revelation.

Jungkook—bless the tiny space you still occupy in his heart—is at your side in seconds, helping you recover from the near-death experience, but his touch feels scolding now.

Scolding in a way that makes you think back to all the times he said he wanted to be a dad, to all the times he fucked you raw and let his kink give you the best orgasms of your life. And eventually, you have to force yourself not to picture it—how he found all of that with Hara.

“Congratulations!” you manage to force out after everyone’s back in their seats and a bit of quiet has settled.

“Thank you! We’re all so happy, right?” Hara caresses her stomach, beaming at Jungkook, who looks just as thrilled as she does.

“Yeah! It’s going to have a wonderful mother.”

“Duh.” She laughs, sipping her water while you drown your glass, smiling and nodding as if you couldn’t agree more.

You don’t recall much of the conversations during dinner, don’t remember the sweet lies you told to hide how broken you are. But when Jungkook and Hara disappear into the kitchen after the meal, you grab Yoongi from his chair and drag him towards the door.

“Bye! Thanks for dinner!” you call to Namjoon and Hope, who look confused, but you’re too tipsy to care. Too tipsy to make out what Jin says to you as he rushes out of the kitchen, while you stumble outside.

“What was that?” Yoongi pulls his arm out of your grasp, hating it when you’re like this.

But you can’t hold it together anymore, alcohol always making you sad, emotional, and sentimental. Maybe it was the last straw—time to let Jungkook go, though him being so wound up this morning still nags at your mind.

“I’ve changed my mind.” You start walking towards the hostel, hearing Yoongi following, the snow crunching under your feet. “You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Yes, you are. You need to end this limbo once and for all.

“I need answers, and I won’t get any if I’m not alone with Jungkook.”

Day 3

Maybe opting to spend the day alone with Jungkook wasn’t the best idea you’ve had. Not that it isn’t necessary to finally get the answers that have been piling up, but you’re not sure how to ask him without it turning into an interrogation.

Facing Jungkook first thing this morning would’ve been too much too, especially since you’ve barely had time to process the pregnancy bomb Hara dropped on you. So, sneaking out of the hostel it is.

You regret not stopping by Hope’s to grab your winter boots, but with no other option, you head out in full snowboarding gear, aiming to grab breakfast at Jimin’s.

What you didn’t expect was to spot Hara in the pastry shop as you stand outside, staring longingly at the treats like a starving kid. You can’t face her right now, so you quickly turn and decide to head anywhere else but here or the hostel, hoping there’s another bakery somewhere in town.

But of course, in your bulky snowboarding gear, you’re not exactly inconspicuous, looking more like an oversized ball of dark fabric against the snow. Naturally, Jimin spots you straight away, waving you in like you originally planned.

And of course, Hara notices too, her soft eyes and glowing smile radiating warmth as she waves at you.

Forcing a smile, you head to the entrance and with one deep breath, step into the lion’s den, thinking breakfast spent with Jungkook would have been the better option. 

“Morning, ___!”

“Hey Hara. Jimin.”

You’re still a bit pissed at Jimin for being a little shit yesterday, stirring the pot between you and Jungkook for no reason. But seeing him now, friendly and without the evil glint in his eyes, tempers your anger just a bit.

“The usual?”

“I didn’t know I had one,” you laugh, now standing beside Hara, who’s practically pressed up against the glass display of sweets. It’s kind of cute, and you reckon the pregnancy hormones are hitting her hard, especially this early in the morning.

“I’d die for a coffee,” she mumbles, fogging up the glass and quickly wiping it clear again to not spoil her view.

Jimin’s back is to both of you, already busy with the coffee machine. “I could make you a decaf.”

“No, I read somewhere that decaf isn’t really decaf. And while nursing, caffeine stays in the baby’s system for up to three days. I don’t even want to think about how long it stays in their system when they’re still in the womb.”

“Oh, that’s wild. I didn’t know that.” You’re genuinely shocked by the news, and a little concerned for any women who don’t know either.

“Yeah.” Hara sighs, fogging the glass up again and immediately wiping it clean.

Why Jimin’s not serving Hara first and is making your coffee instead is beyond you, but you don’t say anything. Maybe she can’t decide what to eat just yet, or there’s something she’s avoiding. Either way, you don’t want to end up as the town’s biggest grouch.

“Aren’t you warm?” Hara asks, glancing at you, though her gaze keeps drifting back to the sweets.

“Yeah.” You stammer a little, awkwardly taking off your coat, walking back to the door to hang it up on the rack, which has been bodged together again. You realise quickly that Namjoon or Jimin clearly aren’t cut out for DIY which is definitely a pass.

“Something to eat?”

“Yes,” you and Hara answer in unison, though hers is more of a relieved sigh, making you giggle as you make your way to the table you sat at some days ago.

“What’ll it be then?”

“How about a bit of everything as an apology?” you tease, unable to let his mischief slide like you probably should.

“Touche.”

“What did he do again?” Hara’s now sitting beside you, both of you watching Jimin as he diligently piles treats onto a massive plate. A brief flicker of guilt runs through you as you think about the way you’ve been eating lately, except for that one perfect meal at Jin’s. But you’re only here for a few days, so you might as well make the most of it. There’s no way you’re saying no to all this food, especially when Jimin owes you more than that.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Mhm, sure,” you smirk, crossing your arms as you exchange glances with Hara, who’s clearly curious and ready for some gossip, even if it’s at your expense.

She looks stunning in the soft morning light filtering through the window, her thick black hair falling in loose waves like she’s fresh from a blowout. Maybe it’s just good genes, because her skin is flawless—no makeup, no blemishes, no dark circles.

Maybe, in another life, she could’ve been a friend. But there’s no way you could ever be close to someone who’s got the man you love.

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

“What did he do?” Hara’s leaning forward now, elbows on the table, hands framing her perfect face as she eagerly looks between you and Jimin, clearly hooked on your tea. 

“He’s been a little shit, stirring trouble.”

“I just brought you your favourite,” Jimin grins innocently, making his way to the table. But you can clearly see the mischievous glint in his eyes again, and before you know it, he’s setting down the dreaded americano in front of you. Hara’s already grabbed a macaron, barely waiting for the plate to touch the table.

“What’s so bad—” Hara starts,  talking through a mouthful of food in a way only you could relate to, but Jimin cuts her off. 

“She’s his ex.”

Hara’s reaction is immediate—she starts choking on her pastry, and you flash back to last night when you nearly drowned yourself with wine. You’re unsure what to do, hesitating with your hands hovering over her, worried about whether patting a pregnant woman on the back is safe as your panic rises. Luckily, Jimin sprints behind the counter, grabs a bottle of water, and leaps back over to hand it to her.

Thankfully, Hara recovers quickly, and your heart slows down as you see she’s alright.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!”

That’s…not the reaction you were expecting.

“If you’d just checked the group chat, you’d know.”

“Wait, you have a group chat where you talk about me?!”

“Not important.” Hara waves you off with a hand, though the growing smile on her face makes the gesture anything but rude. She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through missed messages, clearly catching up on something you’re not privy to.

You try to sneak a glance at her screen, but she leans away, blocking your view. Instead, you watch her face as she scrolls—at first, there are little giggles, but soon her expression sours into a full-on pout.

What the hell are they texting about you? Isn’t that illegal or something?

“Why?” she whines, looking at Jimin while your confusion just deepens.

“Dunno. Ask Namjoon.” 

“Namjoon?” The name slips out before you can stop yourself. It doesn’t make any sense for him to be involved in this.

Hara lets out an exasperated sigh, sinking into her seat like she already knows the answer Namjoon would give but is too drained to accept it. “Ugh, no way.”

You clear your throat, hoping to redirect the conversation, though the frustration is building. “Namjoon?”

“Yeah, Namjoon. Now eat before it gets cold.”

“Your pastries are cold,” you shoot back, but Jimin just waves it off.

“See? Now eat.” And with that, he disappears through the door leading to the back, leaving you stewing. You hate him for this—stirring up chaos and then vanishing as if he didn’t cause it in the first place. 

Hara, meanwhile, seems lost in her thoughts, again eating, one hand’s wrapped around a croissant, the other clutches a muffin. How she manages to look like she’s stepped straight out of a commercial is beyond you, and somehow it fits that Jungkook would be with someone like her.

You hesitate, not daring to nudge her. You’ve never spent much time around pregnant women—how fragile are they, really? Better safe than sorry.

“Namjoon?” you ask again, more gently this time.

Her eyes flick up to yours, as if she momentarily forgot where she was. There’s no defensiveness in her gaze, only a soft apology. She places the muffin down and reaches out to touch your arm after wiping it clean on her sweater, her hand gentle and comforting like a mother consoling a child. She’s really going to make a great mum.

“I’m sorry, love. I can’t tell you.”

Surprisingly, it doesn’t make you angry. You should be furious, with how cryptic everyone’s being, and especially with how inconsistent Jungkook’s been treating you lately. But you can see the sincerity in Hara’s face. She really is sorry, and somehow, that makes it harder to be mad. She’s just…lovable in all the ways you’re sure you never could be.

So you just nod, defeated, and finally start eating your breakfast as well. Thinking about all the conversations you could have with Hara right now makes deciding which one you’d actually want to have not that easy. 

Asking about her pregnancy could be a start, maybe how far along she is since she’s not showing yet. It would be a question asked just for the sake of it, to get to know her a bit better. Because quite frankly, even if you checked Jungkook’s or her social media to confirm if he was in town and might be the father of Hara’s child, it wouldn’t really help. The evidence wouldn’t be enough, seeing as he’d apparently be in Hawaii now if you took socials as proof.

Asking her how her relationship with Jungkook is? Not an option. Why would you willingly want to hear anything about their intimacy? Definite no.

Her childhood? Pass.

Her job? Don’t care.

Whether she has pets? Hmm, that would be nice to know. You love animals, regardless of their owner, so that’s where you settle.

This time though, you swallow the bite of food before speaking to Hara, who’s managed to eat half of the huge plate sitting before you both while you were lost in thought. Just as you part your lips, inhaling enough air to ask your first personal question, she freezes mid-bite with a half-eaten cinnamon roll in hand, her eyes wide.

“Oh no…” she breathes, mortified, cradling her stomach as she drops the roll and bolts towards the nearby toilet, gagging.

To your dismay, she doesn’t close the door behind her, and you can hear her throwing up everything she’s eaten so far, which sets off your own stomach. You start gagging too, barely able to stand, hating this reaction you’ve had since childhood whenever someone’s vomiting or even gagging near you.

You need to leave. Now. So you call out a quick “sorry” and “bye” with your hand over your mouth, grab your coat while passing the sad excuse of a fixed coat rack and rush outside. You’re not even fazed by the freezing cold, just relieved to be as far away from the sound of vomiting as possible.

Seeing no other option than to go back to the hostel and get your snowboard, you try to calm yourself as much as you can. It’s finally time to face Jungkook alone, how you’ll manage, you don’t know—but you’ll figure it out as you go.

When you enter the hostel, Jungkook’s already standing in full gear in the main area, turning his head from the hallway leading to the rooms when the chime signals your arrival. He looks confused for a moment, but as you approach your snowboard, you try not to let his presence faze you.

Though you fail miserably when your voice embarrassingly cracks. “Good morning.”

Jungkook still has the same effect on you. Anytime your eyes catch even a glimpse of him, whether in person or just a pixelated picture on the internet, he takes your breath away and makes you flustered all over again. It’s not like it’s something new—he’s had that effect on you ever since the first time you saw him, when he was tapping on your car window, asking if you needed help as you were clearly having a breakdown because you couldn’t, for the life of you, park in the narrow side street.

“Morning. Where’s your other half?” Jungkook’s voice turns slightly bitter, but as you look at him, you can tell he’s more irritated with himself than anything.

“He’s not coming.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question, walking towards the door to leave for the hill.

“He doesn’t need it. It’s just us. Or should we cancel the lesson altogether?” You grin at him as you walk beside each other, playful but secretly hoping for a way out that won’t involve you breaking a bone today.

“No, ‘s fine.” You think you catch a small smile tugging at Jungkook’s lips, but he quickly pulls his scarf up over his mouth, hiding it.

“Did you sleep well?”

You mull over his question, wondering if whining about being awake most of the night because of Yoongi’s snoring, which could probably warrant a sleep clinic appointment, and your own relentless overthinking about Hara’s pregnancy and Jungkook’s involvement, warranting an appointment with a psychologist, would be a good idea. But you decide against it. Not just because you don’t want to confront him yet, but because voicing a lie to explain why a whole bottle of wine didn’t lull you to sleep doesn’t cross your mind quickly enough.

“Perfectly. And you?”

“Yeah, though the beds are a bit too soft. You like them though, right?”

Nostalgia hits you like a snow storm—the fact that Jungkook still remembers such trivial details about you.

“Yeah, I even brought my snuggly,” you giggle, knowing he’ll definitely remember that as well. 

What you didn’t consider is that the exact pillow you’ve been cradling every night since you got it was a gift from Jungkook himself. When his eyes snap to you, wide with recognition, searching your face to make sure he heard you right, you realise you’ve said too much.

He doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. In fact, he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too caught up in your head to even attempt small talk. How could you, with Jungkook? The two of you have never been like this, never awkward. You were always at ease, immediately friends, then more, and eventually…nothing at all.

It’s only when you reach the dreaded hill, with Jungkook stepping in front of you like the instructor he is—and how you should be seeing him right now—, that you try to bottle up everything, telling yourself you’ll bring it up later, maybe over lunch. It’s already late morning, so it won’t be too long until you get the answers you’re desperate for.

“So, today we’ll be snowboarding for real,” he starts, but it’s so much softer than when Yoongi was with you. There’s a gentleness in his tone now, something quieter, like he’s trying to ease you into it rather than push. “But before we lift up and go down the slopes, I want you to get a feel for gliding with a bit of speed.”

Yeah, no. He’s not easing, he’s definitely pushing you. You don’t like where this is going.

“First with a rope, then we’ll use the hill a few times, and hopefully before lunch we’ll make our first descent down the blue slope.”

“Blue?”

“It’s the easiest one. I’ll explain it in detail once we’re up there.” He points with his thumb over his shoulder.

Following the direction, you notice multiple skiers and snowboarders already dashing down the slopes. You’re pretty sure you hear someone scream right before they fall, snow exploding around them like flour hitting the ground. You gulp dryly, but you nod all the same.

When Jungkook pulls a cut-off lift cord from his jacket, you’re equal parts terrified and impressed by how much he carries around without you noticing.

“Clip yourself in, please,” he instructs as he unwraps the cord, walking towards you with both ends in hand.

Of course, you do as he says, but you can’t help glancing warily at the cord, still unsure of exactly what he’s got planned.

Shifting awkwardly on your snowboard, trying not to fall while Jungkook messes with the lift cord, you try to ignore the racing of your heart as Jungkook’s gloved hands tug gently around your body to secure it. But all your attempts to focus on anything other than how natural it feels for him to be helping you again, are futile at their best. 

„You ready?“ He’s got this grin on his face, one you recognise too well—the kind that usually means he’s about to do something reckless or ridiculous. It’s the same grin he had that time he convinced you to build a fort out of every cushion in his apartment, just because and why not.

“Not even a little bit,” you admit, but still, you’ve never been able to say no to that grin. Snowboarding is definitely not something you ever thought you’d be doing, yet, here you are, letting your ex teach you. It’s awkward as it sounds, except…it’s not.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’m gonna start pulling now. Just relax, yeah?” he grins, his voice carrying that casual, teasing tone that makes your heart ache just a little bit too much. Swallowing hard, you adjust your stance, trying to keep your balance as he gets into position.

“Relax? You’re literally going to run while pulling me. How am I supposed to relax?” you shoot back, giving him a look. Your knees feel wobbly just thinking about it, and you’re not even moving yet.

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling ever so lovingly at the edges. “Trust me, you’ll be fine. Just focus on staying straight and let me do the hard part.”

You shake your head, but deep down, you do trust him. You always have, even when you probably shouldn’t. Like that time he tried to teach you how to ride a bike after you told him you hadn’t been on one since you were a kid. He’d run alongside you, holding the seat, laughing the whole time while you screamed about how you were going to crash. And yeah, you did crash. But he was right there to catch you before you hit the ground.

“Okay, here we go!” Jungkook calls out suddenly, interrupting your thoughts. He grabs the lift cord a bit tighter, gives it a little tug, and then he’s off—actually sprinting through the snow, pulling you behind him like some kind of sled dog.

The board jerks beneath you as you’re dragged forward, and for a split second, you think you’re about to eat snow. But you don’t. Somehow, you manage to keep your balance, your legs flexing to stay upright as you glide over the snow. You can’t help it—you let out a yelp of surprise, half-laughing, half-shrieking, as Jungkook keeps running ahead of you, turning to look over his shoulder with a huge grin on his face, sparkling eyes, and a nose red from the cold.

“See? You’re doing it!” he shouts, his voice breathless but excited, clearly proud of you just for managing not to fall.

“Don’t distract me!” you yell back, laughing now despite yourself. The rush of the cold air against your face and the ridiculousness of the situation sends a burst of adrenaline through you, and for a moment, you actually feel like you’re snowboarding. Well, sort of. „I’m going to crash!“

„Nah, I’d never let you crash!“

You look up at that and he still looks annoyingly good, like he’s stepped out of a high-end winter sports ad. You wonder if he’s thinking about the past too—about the warmth you’d felt on those lazy Sunday mornings when you’d wake up next to him, the two of you tangled in blankets, sharing groggy laughter and sleepy conversation before starting the day.

Why did it have to end? That thought keeps creeping up, even though you tell yourself not to think about it. You weren’t right for each other, or maybe you were, but just not at the right time maybe. But there are still these little moments that get you. Moments like now, when he’s right in front of you, close enough but still far away.

Jungkook slows down a little, but his grip on the cord stays secure, guiding you as you slide behind him. It’s strangely easy, being pulled along like this. You’re not focused on your feet or the board or the fear of falling—you’re just…moving because of Jungkook. Making you remember all those rare times you’d dance around the kitchen with him guiding you in his sturdy arms, not caring if you looked ridiculous or if you were stepping on each other’s socked feet. Back when everything was uncomplicated, and just being with him made you happy.

“You’re not even trying to steer!” Jungkook calls out, teasing, his breath visible in the cold air. He looks over his shoulder again, his hair bouncing slightly as he jogs, and there’s something playful and secure in his eyes—something that makes you remember why you fell for him in the first place.

“I’m trying! Let me life!” you protest, though your voice is shaky from laughing too hard. It’s ridiculous, this whole thing, but you’re actually having fun.

“Alright, I’m gonna let go now,” Jungkook warns, slowing down even more. “Get ready to stop.”

You brace yourself, bending your knees just a bit more, trying to remember everything he told you over the last two days about controlling the board. But before you can do much more than panic slightly, he releases the cord, and you glide forward, the board still carrying you for a few more feet before coming to a slow, wobbly stop right in front of him, your snowboard between his legs.

You stand there for a moment, catching your breath, and when you turn your head up to look from Jungkook’s chest to his face, there’s nothing less than a satisfied smile on his lips.

“See? Told you it’d be fun,” he smiles, like this whole thing was a walk in the park for you. Honestly, it probably would be for him. He’s always been annoyingly good at making things look easy.

“Fun? I almost fell like ten times!” you exaggerate, but you’re still smiling. You can’t help it. It’s hard not to smile when you’re around him, even now, years later. 

Slightly out of breath, he gives you that boyish grin that makes you swoon even more. “But you didn’t. And you were laughing, which means you were having fun.”

You want to argue with him, to say that just because you were laughing doesn’t mean you weren’t terrified, but the truth is, you did have fun. More fun than you’ve had in a while, actually.

“Okay, fine. Maybe it wasn’t that bad,” you admit, brushing some snow off your gloves. “But I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s the point. You don’t have to know what you’re doing. You just have to let yourself try.”

You stare at him for a second, trying to decide if he’s talking about snowboarding or —again—something else entirely. It’s funny how easily he slips back into your life like this when you’re alone and forget about the world, making you laugh, making you feel like things aren’t as complicated as they really are. It reminds you of all those little moments you had together—when you’d stay up late, talking about nothing in particular, just enjoying the sound of each other’s voice or binge-watching shows that neither of you were really that into but refused to stop watching because you both needed to see how ridiculous the plot would get. Or, even, those lazy afternoons spent cooking together, fumbling through recipes neither of you knew how to make, laughing at each other when you messed up.

Those days were safe, easy. And even though it’s over, you miss that ease sometimes—the way he’d make you laugh without trying, the way he’d look at you during the quiet moments when he didn’t think you were paying attention.

Jungkook steps back and bends down to pick up the cord again, glancing up at you with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Wanna go again?”

You sigh dramatically, though you’re already nodding. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

He laughs, and the sound of it is oh so wonderfully warm. “Nope. You’re stuck with me.”

As he starts pulling the cord again, you feel that rush of excitement building in your chest, the same way it used to whenever he’d suggest something spontaneous or ridiculously dangerous. It’s easy to forget everything else when you’re with him—how things ended, how you’re supposed to be moving on. But for now, in this exact moment, with him pulling you along like old times, you let yourself enjoy it. 

Because quite frankly, as soon as you have the talk with him, you’re sure there won’t be any of these shared moments anymore. Ignoring the ticking countdown inside your head is everything you’re willing to do for now, you’re not quite ready to let go of the ease that obviously can still exist between you, fragile as it may be. 

Some time later, after you’ve been gliding—no, really snowboarding—down the hill a few times, you’re sitting on top of it with Jungkook beside you. Both of you are clipping yourselves in, facing the lift where you’re about to head up for your first proper descent.

“People are already off to lunch, so the lift’s going to be pretty empty. Try to stop right behind me, I’ve got the ticket for you.”

“Okay.” you hesitate, but maybe it’s the perfect time to clear some of your questions. “Uh, before we start, could you tell me what you’ve all been saying about me in the group chat?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like, what you’ve been talking about me. About us.”

Jungkook looks completely confused, muttering, “We don’t talk about you there,” but he pulls his phone from his pocket regardless, unlocking it and heading straight to the group chat. “What the fuck?!”

“What is it?”

You try to peer at his phone, but the sun’s too bright for you to make anything out.

“They’ve removed me from the chat.”

Frowning at his phone, Jungkook quickly types out a flurry of messages to all his friends, each one filled with the same curse words and passive-aggressive tone. But when you see him typing to Hara, it’s just a politely phrased question, before he puts his phone away and turns to you with apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on with—”

“Jungkook!”

You turn towards the chirpy voice calling out, spotting two snowboarders decked out in pink, gliding effortlessly towards you. Their gear isn’t baggy, snugly fitting and showing off their slender physiques.

“Who’s that?” you mutter to yourself, still transfixed by how effortlessly they come to a stop in front of you. You think you hear Jungkook mumble something like no clue.

Both girls remove their scarves and protective goggles, revealing not only perfect features but also flawless makeup—more suited for a night out than a day on the slopes.

“Hey,” Jungkook greets them, confusion evident in his tone.

“It’s so dope to see you again! Right, Minji? Best instructor in the world.”

Both giggle, and you notice Jungkook shifting uncomfortably. Did he sleep with them? They look so young, he wouldn’t have…right?

“Oh, thanks. Minji and…uh…”

“Sora!” She winks at him, still ignoring your presence. “It’s been, what? Two years? We’ve grown up now, right?”

“The Cho cousins! Of course! Wow, you really have grown up!” Jungkook smiles now, no longer bothered by the obvious flirting, though your mood sours the longer the girls stare at him.

“You remember,” Minji breathes, looking at him like a lovesick puppy.

“You want to grab lunch with us? Catch up a bit?”

“We were just about to—” you start, but Sora interrupts you with a pout.

“Pretty please?”

“Are your parents with you?” Jungkook asks.

“No, just us.”

Jungkook turns to look at you, and you school your expression into neutrality.

“We could have lunch now and then—”

“Yeah, the lesson’s over for today,” you say flatly, unclipping your feet from your board and getting up immediately. “See you later.”

You’re not proud of how you’ve handled it, but you’re done. You’ve wasted the whole morning without getting any answers, and now there’s another issue you wouldn’t have wanted.

“Wait!” Jungkook calls after you, but you’re already at the base, not looking back as you head straight to the hostel, hoping Yoongi had the sense and decency to finally grab your stuff from Hope’s.

Hearing Jungkook trying to catch up with you gives you that extra boost, despite your muscles aching, pushing you to increase your pace. It’s pretty embarrassing how you’re practically fleeing from him, but you’re pissed, and you’re petty, and he knows it too. Jungkook definitely still knows how to handle you when you’re like this, but right now, you just can’t.

Luckily, he doesn’t speed up, and you make it to the hostel first, stumbling inside. Everyone, literally everyone, is scattered around the main area as if they’re plotting something you’re not in on. They all fall silent the moment you burst through the door, with a few empty takeout boxes on the table and Jimin holding a clipboard and pen.

“Uh, hello?” you ask carefully.

That seems to break their trance as everyone starts blinking and moving again. Yoongi gets up with a takeout box in hand and walks over to you.

“Want some takeout?” He’s being too nice, and the way his eyes shift over his shoulder to Namjoon and Hope does anything but ease your nerves.

“What’s going on here?”

No one answers. Jin even starts whistling while cleaning his nails, which earns him a swift kick to the shin from Hara, who’s sitting between him and Tae.

“Just getting things ready for tonight,” Namjoon finally says, though you can see in his eyes that he’s straight-up bullshitting you.

You don’t have time to push for answers as Jungkook bursts through the door too, looking just as confused. “What’s going on?”

“Preparations,” everyone except you says in unison, making them seem even more suspicious than they already are.

“Why are you back so soon?” Hara tries to distract, smiling as she glances between you and Jungkook.

That’s your cue to leave though. You’re not dealing with this today. “Thanks for the takeout, I’m off for a shower. Bye~.”

And with that, you grab the takeout box from Yoongi, swap it with your snowboard, and stomp off in your snow-covered boots towards your suite. Locking yourself inside, you decide to spend the day on some much-needed self-care before you have to face the party tonight.

Because finally having the time to think—or rather, not to think—and just get back to your inner zen, maybe even start acting a bit more rationally, is exactly what you need. You’re just relieved that everyone, even Yoongi, has left you alone throughout the whole afternoon, only briefly interrupting you so he could get ready for the evening as well.

You’re not sure why you opted for the clothes you’re currently wearing, feeling ridiculously overdressed for this town, but at the same time underdressed for the weather. Still, you won’t let every other woman around you push you into their shadows, knowing there’s a spotlight for you too, even though you barely take it.

If Jungkook’s the visual type, which you know for a fact he is, then you’ll damn well show him what he’s missing. Not just to give him a mental middle finger, but also for you to feel at least a bit more adequate.

Maybe there’ll be someone at the party who’ll appreciate your appearance, someone who isn’t familiar with your past or your sorry attempt at being something you’re simply not. Maybe tonight’s all about getting answers and a change, closing the book written by Jungkook.

Grabbing your small purse, you stuff your phone into it, pulling on your boots, which don’t quite match your outfit, but leaving with heels would be a death sentence with the snow-covered streets. It’ll have to do, especially when you’re hoping that Jin’s place is dimly lit, so no one notices your footwear anyway.

When you enter the main area, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook are already waiting for you, the latter two stunned silent as they take you in. It makes you blush, though you hope your makeup stays true to its claims and doesn’t let the pink show through.

Jungkook’s decked out in all black again, his fitted jeans straining against those massive thighs you’ve always had a weakness for. You think you spot a silver chain peeking out from his collar—it looks familiar, but you’re not entirely sure. You reckon it might be a new one; time has definitely passed, and it would be odd if he were still wearing jewellery gifted by his petty ex who dumped him.

“Finally,” Yoongi breathes, standing up from the couch with a clap to his knees.

Jungkook throws him an evil eye, though you chalk it up to his general hostility towards him rather than any real annoyance at the semi-rude comment about how long you took to get ready.

“You look beautiful,” Namjoon smiles, that dimpled smile of his, walking beside you as you head out to the party.

“Thanks, Namjoon, I like your hair.” You compliment him back, noticing the effort he’s put in as well, his hair now gelled back, showing off his forehead.

You’re glad Jungkook doesn’t butt in again, though the silent simmering isn’t much better. It’s kind of childish how he’s acting—not that you’re any better—but still, it grates on your nerves. At this point, though, you’re not even sure talking to him would help, considering how loaded everything is between you two, you reckon there might not be a way back to normalcy. Not that you know what normal would look like with Jungkook. 

When you finally reach Jin’s, you’re pleasantly surprised by how it’s transformed—not just because the whole town’s there, but because the decorations are on point. Multiple mistletoe hang from the ceiling, with glittery ornaments reflecting the fairy lights, making the whole place feel more like a Christmas nightclub than the posh restaurant it was just yesterday.

You spot Hope, Hara, and Tae right away, deep in conversation in front of a makeshift stage, where several microphones and instruments are set up. Jungkook and Namjoon are swarmed within seconds by women swooning over them like starved cougars which annoys you just a bit more than usual. 

It’s too much for you again—you can’t stand to watch—so you grab Yoongi’s hand and drag him to the bar, needing to drown a shot glass, even if it ends up filled with your tears by the end of the night.

“Hey!” Jin greets you from behind the bar, shaking up a drink for an older lady perched on a barstool, who looks like a cross between a crazy rich Asian and a fashion icon. You’re sure to see Jimin’s hair flopping at the other end of the bar, probably helping out in serving drinks tonight. 

“Yo, Jin, what’s up?” Yoongi daps him up, and you sit down, swirling slightly while deciding what you’ll drink tonight.

“What can I get you?”

“A beer for me and…”

“A shot of vodka and a glass of wine, please.”

“Going hard tonight?” Jin laughs, but he prepares your drinks without much judgement.

“It’s a party, isn’t it?”

“Of course. Enjoy yourselves,” he winks, setting down the drinks before heading off to serve another customer.

“You planning on getting smashed?” Yoongi asks, right before taking his first sip.

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“Just talk to him.”

You give him a silent glare, throwing your head back as the vodka disappears before you know it. When you get home, you’ll definitely need to cut back on the alcohol—it’s gotten out of hand, and you know it.

“Maybe you don’t want answers.“

„Maybe.“ 

„You coming over?” Yoongi nods towards the group of friends, Jungkook standing with them next to Hara but with his eyes locked on you, watching intensely as you turn.

You can’t look away, not when he’s hypnotising you the way only he can, making you feel exposed to the core, even from across the room.

“No, I’ll come over in a bit.”

“Suit yourself.”

And with that, Yoongi’s gone, pushing through the crowd while you turn back to the bar, watching Jin and Jimin work, taking gulps of wine one after the other, just as soon as you set the glass down.

You can’t help but take occasional peeks over your shoulder at the others, always laughing and having a good time. But every time, Jungkook’s eyes are already locked on you, refusing to look away even when you catch him staring. His confidence is bold, and he’s never been shy about it—or anything, really—which only stirs the fire inside you, the one only he could ever ignite.

After your second glass of wine, your mind wanders to fantasies that can only come true in your dreams. What if he’s not with Hara? If he’s not the baby daddy? Would there still be a chance for you? Would you be enough?

What if you are? What if everything goes back to how it once was? Would you be happy? Of course you would, how could you not. Even the toughest days spent with Jungkook aren’t as hard as being without him. You’d take fighting with him over being apart from him any day.

But the fact that you’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, and no one has even attempted to make a move on you, destroys your pride even more. Maybe you’re just not desirable enough, and Jungkook, being the peak of human perfection, would see it that way too.

When he joins you at the bar after some time, you don’t even need to look to know it’s Jungkook standing beside you, leaning on the counter—his unique fragrance mixed with his scent gives him away instantly.

“A whiskey, please,” he calls over the music to the barman, Jimin and Jin by now replaced by two unfamiliar faces.

“Didn’t know you drink during the week.”

Jungkook’s jaw ticks ever so slightly, his head hanging low as his fringe hides his eyes.

“Can’t I enjoy myself too?”

“Go ahead, enjoy yourself as much as you like.” You can’t help the bitter tone in your voice, hoping he didn’t catch it, but Jungkook noticed.

When he’s handed his drink, he turns to you, and you can’t help but take him in. It’s instinct at this point, letting your eyes shamelessly stray over his build and features, though he’s just the same.

“You look like you’re doing just fine without me.” Ouch.

“Maybe you do too.” You try to safe face.

There’s silence now as Jungkook takes a sip of his whiskey, his darkened eyes flickering over your face as if trying to make sense of you.

But eventually, he just shakes his head. “Having to learn how to live without you is a lesson I never wanted to learn.”

He’s gone as quickly as he appeared, and you’re left alone again. You can’t spend the whole evening like a fucking loner at the bar, so you order another glass, and once it’s handed to you, you get up and head towards the others.

Just like the rest of the night, they’re loudly chatting and laughing away, now joined by Jin, who’s massaging Hara’s shoulders, and Jimin, who’s clearly annoying the hell out of Yoongi.

“___!” Tae shouts over the heads of the others, bulldozing towards you as you stand beside Jungkook, throwing himself over your shoulders.

The hug mends your broken heart just a little, and you regret not coming over sooner, realising you were once again stuck in your head, missing out on the easy fun that was waiting for you.

“Tae, hi!” You feel a bit of wetness on your back, probably from the drink Tae’s holding, but you don’t let it bother you, knowing it’ll dry in no time with the heat surrounding you.

“You left so quickly this morning,” Hara pouts, and guilt washes over you instantly.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve got a sensitive stomach and…well, you know…”

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

“No, it’s fine! Nothing you could’ve done,” you laugh, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

The chatter picks up again, and you’re relieved no one mentions you keeping your distance until now. Everyone seems pretty laid back, happy to let people take space if they need it. Well, everyone except Jungkook, who’s stepped a little away from you and closer to Hara.

It stings a bit—well, a lot—but you try to keep the tight-lipped smile intact, tuning into the conversations around you over the music.

“You ready?” Jin grins over Hara’s head at Jungkook, who shifts uncomfortably.

“Do I have to?”

“Course you do! It’s tradition at this point,” Hope laughs, and even though you have no idea what they’re talking about, his bright laughter makes you giggle too.

Jungkook still looks unsure, but when Hara nudges him, leaning away from Jin to whisper something in his ear while squeezing his bicep, he nods and hands his drink to Jimin, prompting cheers from everyone but you and Yoongi.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi mouths at you, and you just shrug, just as clueless.

“Here goes nothing,” Jungkook mutters, and as he and Jin make their way to the stage—Tae giving them both a hard slap on the ass—your own nerves start to flare up.

Hara stands right beside you, pulling you into a side hug. “I’m so proud of him.”

You don’t bother asking why; your question will be answered any minute now.

“Hello everyone! Thanks for coming tonight! And like every year, let’s kick off the real party with our babystarcandy!” Jin shouts into the mic, tossing paper hearts into the air as Jungkook grabs a guitar from the side, slinging the strap over his shoulder and stepping up to the mic Jin just left.

The room erupts into the loudest cheers you’ve ever heard, with Hara screeching the loudest. Jungkook glances at her bashfully with a small smirk.

“Hey, everyone.”

More deafening cheers follow, and you swear you see a black bra flying through the air towards the stage, though you’re not sure—your alcohol-hazed vision could be playing tricks on you at this point. 

“What do you want to hear first?” Jungkook’s smooth voice reverberates through the room, and you realise he’s made for the stage. You’ve never seen him like this before.

The crowd shouts random song titles you’ve never heard before, but the loudest—and from Hara—is a request for a song called ‘Guillotine,’ one you’ve too never heard of. Jungkook locks eyes with her again and simply nods with cheeks dusted pink and a small smile.

“Alright, this one’s for someone special.”

As the first chords flow from his guitar, his tattooed fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings, eyes closed as if he’s pouring his soul into the song, the entire room falls silent.

“Sleep on me, feel the rhythm in my chest, just breathe.”

You gulp, not just because his voice is beautiful beyond words, but because when you glance at Hara, you see her with glassy eyes, softly mouthing the lyrics. You feel yourself starting to break. The words rain down on you, pulling you under, making it hard to breathe without gasping.

“I will stay, so the lantern in your heart won’t fade.”

This can’t be happening. It really can’t. Jungkook’s found the true love of his life, and it’s not you. You were never meant to be—just a prototype, an example for the perfect candidate, but only a candidate. 

It’s her.

Tears well up in your eyes, though for entirely different reasons than Hara, who’s now curled into Jin’s side, still singing along, cheering for Jungkook, who keeps glancing in her direction with that same soft smirk.

“I know that you love me, love me, even if I lose my head.”

And as the whole room joins in, singing, clapping, and cheering, you silently crash. Splintering into a thousand pieces, never to be put back together. Your wine glass slips from your hand and shatters on the floor, but the sound is drowned out by Jungkook’s guitar. Still, Yoongi and Namjoon notice. They see you gasping for air, breaking, spiralling, and finally turning to flee from the hell that you’re forced to see.

You push through the crowd, head down, trying to block out the sound of Jungkook’s voice, but it’s everywhere, even as you burst outside and run towards the hostel. It’s still there, screaming in your head, with no way to drown it out.

01 • masterlist • 03

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024

taglist: @kookiewithluv , @closer-to-jungkook , @dreamcatcherluvr , @blueofocean, @leah-rose03 , @httpjeonlicious , @futuristicenemychaos , @cryingoverpixelsetc , @variety-is-the-joy-of-life , @kawaiiisstuff , @delusionalsnack , @jaykay-world , @kookie-vuitton , @https-mei, @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @avawants2havefun , @kawaiiisstuff, @ancagab16 , @lovingkoalaface , @lachimolalajeon , @jkslvsnella , @asimuss7 , @elinaki92 , @minghaosimp, @whoa-jo , @jaytheatiny , @winterbeartaehyungbestboy

[runnning-outof-time]

Tommy & His Girls | Tommy Shelby x Reader

read more of the Girl Dad Mini Series — HERE.

request: yes by anonymous

pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

summary: When things get rough, Tommy can most certainly count on the girls in his life to lighten things up.

warnings: drinking, smoking, Tommy being a horsegirl

word count: 2089

a/n: back at it with another girl dad!Tommy fic - I just love using this little family I’ve created (if you couldn’t tell) I hope you like this installment of their story!! p.s…I’m sorry if the ending’s corny…I didn’t know how to, well, end it. Enjoy!! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Tommy barely said a word as he entered Arrow House. He handed his things to Frances and made a b-line to his study. Things with the business were rough today...they'd been rough for as far back as Tommy could remember. It seemed like he was the only one in the family pulling the weight and that left him feeling like there was war happening inside his head as he made the drive home.

He pushed his study's door closed behind him as he walked into the room, not even caring if the door had enough velocity to latch or not. He trudged his way to his desk after pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. Half of it was downed in the first drink; he really wanted the pain in his head to cease.

Setting the glass down, he went through the motions of lighting himself a cigarette. The first, deep drag he took finally made some of the noise quiet down.

It's unclear how long he sat like that: slumped back on his chair with a cigarette burning between his fingers. The next time he came to, however, was when the office door opened slightly.

"Dad?" a small voice came from the opposite side of the room, making Tommy sit up straighter in his seat.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice not quite audible. He cleared his throat before responding louder, "yes?" He focused in on the doorway, seeing his oldest daughter, Thea, standing in it.

The young girl said nothing else as she fully entered the room and made her way right over to his desk. “You didn’t come to my room to say hello,” she stated, a slight frown present on her face.

She stopped in front of his chair as she finished speaking, her arms open to show him that she wanted a hug. The second he opened his, she fell into them.

Tommy let out a sigh as he felt the weight of his eldest daughter against him. “Hello, Thea,” he breathed, a sigh escaping with his words. He couldn’t deny the fact that he felt terrible in that moment. He always made sure to greet Thea when he returned home from work, no matter what type of day he had.

How could he have gotten so frustrated that he forgot one of the most important parts of his day?

Thea was the one to break away from the hug — Tommy could have sat there like that all evening if she allowed it — and step back to look at her father.

He watched her, waiting to see what she’d do next. To his surprise, she made her way over to one of the seats that faced his desk and sat down.

The two stared at each other for a few moments longer. Thea looked as if she was studying her father; like she was taking notes on the entire situation. Tommy was quite confused as to why the ten year old wanted to stick around after greeting him.

Finally, after several moments of silence, he had to ask her just that, “why have you decided to stay, love?”

“I was able to tell that you’re stressed out over work, dad. I don’t want to leave you alone,” she answered him, sounding simultaneously like a ten year old and like a person who was beyond their years.

Tommy took a moment to let her words sink in. Then he couldn’t help but smile as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. The innocence that his daughters held despite the line of work their father was present in was always something that grounded him, no matter what was going on. He knew that he could count on it to bring him back down from that position of power to just being their dad.

“You can keep working,” Thea’s voice broke through his thoughts, making him realize that he had been sitting there, staring at her for some time.

Tommy glanced down at the papers that were scattered across his desk. They were covered with statements that he truly didn’t want to read anymore. Then he looked to one of the photographs that sat proudly on his desk. It was of Thea, Evie, and Juni. They were all hugging onto each other and smiling their biggest smiles. His eyes finally moved to Thea, who was still sitting with a smile on her face.

“I can’t work any longer,” he said to her then as he stood from his chair, “let’s go and see what your sisters are doing,” he suggested, his statement making Thea rise from her seat as well.

Tommy and Thea found Evie and Juni playing in the front room.

“Dad’s home!” Thea exclaimed, making the two younger girls quickly turn around.

“Dad!” they both cheered in unison, smiles lighting up their faces.

Tommy smiled as they rushed over to hug him. He could slowly feel the stress leaving his body. “Hello, girls,” he greeted them, rubbing both of their backs as they held onto him tightly.

“Come play, dad!” Juni exclaimed as she pulled away from him to go back to the toys they had strewn about on the floor.

“Have you ladies finished your homework?” he asked the older two before making his decision.

“Course I have,” Evie answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “it was too easy.”

“Mine’s finished as well,” Thea answered with a smile.

“Good,” Tommy nodded, smiling at his girls.

“Let’s play!” Juni shrieked from where she was standing by the toys. By this time she already had one leg in one of the ‘princess dresses’ that the girls had specially made for them. Tommy smiled as he saw the one she’d chosen - it was one that Thea had been given when she was little.

“What game?” Tommy asked, watching as his other girls followed suit and grabbed the things they needed from their toy chest.

“Princesses, of course,” Evie answered like it was common sense….well, in this Shelby household it kind of was. Tommy chuckled at that thought.

“Thea’s the queen!” Juni shouted excitedly.

“She’s always the queen though!” Evie protested, a frown on her face as her hands dropped to her hips.

“I’m the queen because I’m the oldest,” Thea calmly explained to her disgruntled sister, “it’s just one of my jobs as the oldest sibling. You and Juni are princesses because you’re my younger sisters, and you’ll get to be queen once I’m older.”

Tommy couldn’t help but smile as he listened to her explanation. She was truly wise beyond her years, and she handled everything with such grace.

“Fine,” Evie huffed, deciding to accept the decision even though she sounded a little disappointed.

“What’s my part in this?” Tommy asked the three once their conversation had ended.

“The part you always are, dad,” Evie was the one to answer.

“Got it,” Tommy nodded, surpressing a groan as he lowered himself to the floor. I’m getting too old for this, he thought to himself, but he didn’t dare let that feeling show. He’d never turn down the opportunity to play with his girls.

(Y/N) was finally finished with discussing all of the changes that were to be made with the grounds and house keepers. A lot went into preparing Arrow House as one season rolled into the next. Despite the magnitude of the task and all of the moving parts that were involved, (Y/N) would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy overseeing these changes.

Now, however, she was more than ready to get back to her family.

She was able to hear them before she saw them. The giggles of her girls and one of Tommy’s unmistakable impressions. She laughed to herself just hearing it.

The sight she was met with in the front room brought the widest smile to her face. “What’s going on in here?” she made her presence known with a question.

“Mum!” came as a chorus of yells from the three girls as they forgot what they were doing to run and greet her.

“Hello, my darlings,” she greeted them, eagerly accepting their hugs. “What’re you playing in here with dad?”

“Princesses!” Juniper chirped, holding up her wand excitedly.

“Ahh,” (Y/N) nodded in understanding, “and what part is dad playing?”

“He’s the prized horse,” Evie happily answered.

(Y/N) finally looked to her husband. The sight she was met with had her stifling her laughter. Tommy was still down on all fours, and was wearing a rather strained expression as he looked at her through the longer strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes.

“Of course he is,” she finally responded, grinning at him before focusing her attention on the girls. “How about we give him a break now, hmm? Frances has informed me that dinner is ready,” she then suggested.

No pushback was received from any of the girls, who promptly began making their way to the dining room.

(Y/N) looked over at Tommy again. He was now wearing a look of relief, and he matched his eyes with hers again just briefly before he began the process of standing up. (Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle at his predicament, waiting for him to be on his feet again before she started walking to the dining room.

For once, Tommy was actually relieved to have heard that dinner was ready.

After dinner the family decided to go out onto the grounds and enjoy one of the final warm, late fall evenings before winter hit.

Juniper, of course, wanted to go to the stables and check on the horses. Tommy happily took her while the older two stayed back with (Y/N). It wasn’t a surprise, however, when he saw the three cresting the hill to join them in the stables.

Later that night, Tommy was - surprisingly - ready to be in bed at the same time as (Y/N). He helped out with tucking the girls in, wanting to spend as much time with them as he could.

(Y/N) didn’t miss the groan that left his lips as he sat down on his side of the bed. “Not as nimble of a horse as you used to be, huh?” she teasingly commented, biting on her finger to stiffle her giggles when his head snapped to look at her. “Maybe they should put you out to pasture.”

Tommy shot her a look that told her she should watch what she was saying. His look made her giggles escape.

“They’ll still treat you as their prized pony,” she conceded, moving over to where he was so that she could drape her arms over his shoulders. “You know how much they enjoy having you play with them,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

Tommy smiled at the sentiment, nodding his head slightly as he brought his hand up to set it against the spot her wrists crossed each other.

“I don’t believe I’ve asked you…” (Y/N) started after a few moments had passed. She lifted her head from his neck before continuing, “how was your day?”

A breath of a laugh left his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment, silently recounting his day’s events and deciphering what he wanted to tell her. “I came home stressed, but the girls were able to put me into a better mood,” he decided not to go too far into details, settling with a short summary.

“They’ve stolen my job then, hmm?” her question wasn’t the sort of response that he was excepting, and it was one that had him turning his head in confusion, hoping that she’d offer more explanation. “It used to be my job to put you into a better mood,” she remarked, the smile she was wearing telling him that she wasn’t being completely serious about this.

“All of you girls put me in a better mood,” he responded in a matter-of-fact tone before adding, “don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And that was the truth. Without those girls, he probably would have still been in his office, droning over the same stack of papers and nursing his umpteenth whiskey.

Without those girls, he probably would have had to deal with another night of keeping his demons at bay as the shovels hit against the walls.

Without his girls, he would most certainly be a completely different man than the one he is today.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @strayrockette @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

[m-ilkiee]

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, smut (character x character), dubcon, noncon, DARK IMPULSE MIKEY, depressive thoughts, victim blaming, sucidial ideation, religious guilt & discussion (very brief), gaslighting, power imbalance, manipulation, abuse (domestic, verbal, sexual, finanical), love bombing, violence (physical, mental, sexual), slut shaming, peer pressure, dry humping, attempted rape, nonconsensual filming.

r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)

wc: 13.3k

[masterlist] [chapter 2] [chapter 4] [taglist]

a/n: the reason why this chapter didn't come out earlier was because I was sick and busy with school. Anyways comments, reblogs and anonymous asks are welcomed.

“DON’T you want to know what me and (name) talked about?”

Mikey doesn’t look away from the burger he’s eating, but he hears Izana loud and clear. The cool morning breeze hits his skin, his golden hair flying in the wind as the two men sit on the ledge of Toman’s balcony, legs dangling from the porch. On a normal day, Mikey wouldn’t be awake by this time, opting to catch some extra hours of sleep until he is forced to go to class. But with the possibility of you saying something to Emma about the incident at the car and Izana going ahead to fix it, he was too restless to go to bed.

He forgot that you could still tell someone, even with your promise. You had no reason to honor it, especially with how he treated you badly, So to get the voice message from Izana with you saying you will keep quiet, was surprising.

“You already told me she’d shut up about the whole thing.” Mikey murmurs, gulping down the last part of the food. “I don’t care about her beyond that.”

A chuckle escapes Izana’s lips as the tanned man takes out a cigarette pack from his pocket. He picks one out with his teeth, then stretches the pack to Mikey. Mikey shakes his head no, at least not now that he just ate a really nice burger and Izana merely shrugs, pushing it back into his pocket, before taking out his lighter. They sit in silence as the lighter flickers on, and Izana brings it to his lips, before shutting it off.

Mikey stares ahead of the weather as Izana smokes, the sun barely peeking out of the dense clouds surrounding it, meaning it was probably going to be a rainy day. He remembers his teenage years, whenever it was rainy and Shin had to go to work, leaving Izana in charge, the three of them would have rainy days, doing things like building large pillow forts, playing video games or a makeshift band with Izana on the guitar, Emma with her drumset she barely ever used and him on the vocals. He and Izana always got along, they were having too much fun to even think about fighting, and it made Emma happy too.

Eventually, as they grew older, rainy days were spent apart, with Izana either busy with work or smoking in his room and him busy with his own gang, in his own world.

And Emma; they left her all alone. Not like they had a choice, they just couldn’t bring themselves to drag her into the lifestyle they were knee deep in or endanger her by bringing her out with them. In hindsight, they were just trying to protect her, but in a way, Mikey knows she resents them for isolating her.

You were her act of defiance against their strict rules. She could hide it with her words that she was fine with her upbringing, but her actions speak even louder for herself. Mikey just wished she defied him in a better way than being friends with someone outside the Sano approved group.

Silence continues between the two of them as they do their own thing, watching the sun attempt to peek out of the dense clouds. Sometimes, Mikey feels like the sun, constantly competing with the cloud of darkness hovering above his head, waiting for his carefully crafted mask to slip just a little bit, so that it can consume him and leave him with nothing.

It already happened once with you in that car and he knows that it cannot happen again.

What happened was a mishap. Something he knows he shouldn’t do again, yet he doesn’t understand what exactly he did wrong.

It confused him to no end. Was it that you felt guilty because your religion said premarital sex is wrong? Or maybe he was too aggressive with you, pinning you down until you couldn’t move? It wasn’t like he had a choice because you kept on fighting him every step of the way.

He looks at his brother peacefully smoking, thinking about the earlier proposal he had offered. Come to think of it, what could you have told Izana that could have made him ask Mikey if he wanted to know?

“So, why did you actually do it?”

Izana’s hoarse voice startled the younger man, nearly making him jump out of his skin. Once he got his bearings, he responded with another question, confusion laced in his tone. “Do what?”

“The car incident. Like, really of all the girls, why her?”

Oh that. “She kept rubbing her thighs together any time I said something, and I thought she wanted relief.” He shrugged, but didn't look Izana in the eye. “She was asking for it-”

“You’re lying.”

Mikey goes silent. Izana must have finally figured out that he wasn’t being completely honest, he was way too observant when it came to others, especially his siblings. “I couldn’t stop myself,” he sighed out, finally facing the reality of the situation. “It was like everything she said or did seemed to offend me.”

“Is that so?”

“Well,” Mikey paused for a moment, thinking about that day. He was angry, but there was always something gnawing at the back of his mind whenever he saw you. The voices in his head made it difficult to think rationally and encouraged more impulsive actions, and that was truly the origin of the actions that happened in the end. “I also really just wanted to know how sleeping with her would feel.”

“Fool.”

“Excuse me?”

The white haired man doesn’t answer his question immediately, tossing the finished cigarette to the ground first, before pushing himself upright. “You heard me clearly. You’re a big fucking moron.” His voice is low and strained, fury lurking beneath.

Izana’s words struck a nerve, causing Mikey to stand up, dark eyes glaring right back at his brother. He thought Izana was on the same side as him in hating you, so why was he suddenly insulting him? “If I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re blaming me and taking her side.”

“I AM blaming you.” He spits out, venomously towards Mikey now, eyes burning with anger. “Because of you thinking with your dick, you risked our relationship with our sister”

“So was I supposed to tell my dark impulses to go on vacation that day? It wasn’t entirely MY fault-”

“You drove her to the most secluded space in school. Do I look stupid enough to buy that excuse?”

Oh this was rich coming from Izana. “Are you insinuating I planned to rape her?” Mikey asked incredulously, not believing his ears. “I met her on the road and she asked for privacy. I didn’t intend to do anything, I’m not you.”

“You don’t get a moral high ground right now.” Izana spits back at Mikey, making the blond clench his jaw.  “You’re just as bad as me and you know it.”

“She can go to class and move the fuck on from whatever happened. If it were you in that fucking car, she’d be in a hospital-”

“And yet I went to clean up the mess you made without taking out my dick, you ungrateful little asshole.” Izana hissed back.

“Don’t call me little-”

“You know what I hate about you, Mikey? You’re so self-centered and self-absorbed that you don’t think about how your actions affect everyone else. You just want things to go your way and you can’t take no for an answer.” Izana laughs coldly. Mikey’s jaw clenched tightly, but stays silent as Izana continues to tease him. “Then again she’s the idiot who fell in love with you, so she better get used to that nasty habit of yours.”

‘What?’

Mikey feels like an ice bucket of water had been thrown on him. His mouth slowly hangs open, trying to process what he just heard right now.

“Don’t fuck with me-”

There’s no way that can be real. It had to be a lie or some kind of sick joke that Izana came up with, but he’s not laughing or smirking. Instead, he lights another cigarette, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. “Look” he said, blowing out a loud plume of smoke. “It was you who said we have to befriend that bitch. I’m guessing it’s because you want to get your dick wet and I don’t care. But if we’re going to pull it off and trap her, you’re going to do all the heavy lifting.”

“I’m not interested-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Manjiro.” Mikey suddenly flinched at Izana’s harsh tone, the use of his government name sobering him up. “I know that you want to sleep with her. But you’re not going to just go in guns blazing. You’re going to convince Emma you like her by doing some grand gesture so that (name) feels like she can’t say no to you.”

Mikey stays silent, mulling over his brother’s suggestion. Izana can see right through him, even to his deepest desires and he knows it’s true. He’s attracted to your body and wants you.

“Okay fine.” He finally gives in. “But I don’t believe she loves me. She probably said that because you scared her.”

“Then you won’t be opposed to making a bet, right?”

Mikey smiles widely. He just wants to knock down Izana by a few pegs to prove him wrong.

“Fine.”

   “NGH, K-ken -more please-”

There is nothing more divine to Emma than what Draken was doing to her right now.

It was supposed to be a normal morning after a wild night. She had told Ken after round five, going to round six that she had a test tomorrow, one she absolutely could not miss and he had promised her no shenanigans.

Unfortunately, Ken is not one to keep those kind of promises.

She’s not sure why he decided to be touchy today; maybe it was the two weeks of no contact until you pushed her into accepting Draken’s proposal for a date night. Whatever it was, Draken was extra clingy this morning and he managed to convince her to let him eat her out for good luck.

Not like she’s complaining, for a change, she’d like to be the one on the receiving end.

Her legs were spread out wide on either side of Ken, his head buried in between her thighs, lips latched onto her clit, sending pleasurable tingles throughout her entire body. Yellow eyes cast down to Draken, her hand gripping his long blond hair, forcing him to stay put.

She let out soft moans at the gentleness of his tongue, the way his large fingers rubbed the sides of her waist to keep her grounded, occasionally rolling his tongue to her hole, before trailing back up to her clit. The girl felt her back lift from the bed, arching in a perfect circle, her heels digging into the bed. Ken hums into her pussy, sending vibrations onto her clit and a wave of electricity down her spine.

“Ken, fuck more-” she gasped, feeling his long tongue swipe up her clit, his mouth engulfed around her pussy. “- right there, k-keep g-going ah”

Emma felt like she was in cloud nine, so high with bliss underneath Draken’s touch. Whenever she was with him, all her problems disappeared for a moment and everything felt so, so good. She didn’t have to think about university or lecturers sucking up to her because of her affiliations. She didn’t have to think about Mikey and Izana bothering her.

She didn’t have to think about you.

You with your soft gaze, laughing gently at whatever joke she might have told you -it wasn’t that funny and yet Emma found herself smiling along with you. Your smile, so beautiful when genuine it reflects in your eyes. Your warm skin that she looks for any excuse to touch, to feel you. The way you looked at her shocked when she showed you the knowledge she retained from Taekwondo, underneath her sweaty body, your chest rising and falling.

‘Shit. I’m not supposed to be thinking about this now when Draken’s here. Not again’ She panicked, trying to focus on Draken’s ministrations again.

But her thoughts kept drifting back to you. Emma’s strong hands securing your thighs, pushing you down to her face until you're on top, her tongue working on your clit and hole while Draken eats her out as well. 

It was too late, the mere thought sent a wave of electricity to her clit, combined with Draken’s touch.

Her two favorite people, sandwiched between them. You’re more innocent, unskilled and Emma is willing to let both her and Draken pamper you, his large hands cupping your breast as he fucks into her while you grind on her face. Or you on the bed, Emma watching Draken fuck you stupid while she touches herself to the sight.

‘F-fuck it.’ She relishes in his touch and her imaginations, now switching to just you and her, your bodies pressed together as she rubs her clit on yours, gently kissing you. ‘I want her so bad shit. I-i want her so bad-’'

Emma cried out as she orgasmed hard, white filling her vision. Draken’s tongue worked her through the feeling, letting her grind on his face as she rode it out until she couldn’t, falling flat on her back on the pillows.

She tried to catch her breath the moment it was over, mulling over the feeling of post euphoric bliss. Draken crawled from between her legs and laid on top of her, lowering his lips to hers in an open mouthed kiss. She hummed, relishing her taste on his tongue, secretly wishing yours was on it too.

The man pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, just staying in silence with her as he usually did after a session. A pang of post nut guilt hit her for thinking about you like that. It felt so wrong and disrespectful, especially knowing how well you trusted her and how she cherishes you so much.

You’re her friend, she’s not supposed to imagine you in such vulnerable positions, not when you probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such thoughts and not when she is in bed with someone else.

Not when you might not have feelings beyond friendship.

She didn't realize her face was scrunched up in a frown until Draken rested his large palm to her face and pressed his finger between her brows, rubbing circles in the space. “Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “At least that’s what you told me.”

She rolled her eyes in response, swatting his hand away as she shoved her guilt at the furthest corner of her mind. “It’s a stupid myth I told you so that you stop scaring my other friends that don’t know you. And there’s nothing wrong with wrinkles.”

He smiled mischievously, the kind that Emma was used to when he was about to push her buttons like always. “So what’s with all the beauty products?”

“Get off my case Ken.” she hissed at him, but there was no malicious intent behind her tone.

“Besides you and Mikey steal my very expensive products any time either of you come here. Buy your own shit.”

“You steal the fries off my plate, too.”

“The fries are 5 dollars, Ken, you’ll live.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, still laying on their bed to catch their breaths as Emma’s thoughts began to drift back to you. It has been some months since she started to see you in that way. She didn’t know how she developed these feelings nor could she pinpoint the day they started. It doesn’t surprise her though, you were just her type; soft-spoken, genuinely kind and so innocent, the kind of person she’d want to shield from the world forever. And in terms of looks, god you were gorgeous in her eyes, like a painting that the artist took his time to create.

It wasn’t like she didn’t try to bury her feelings for you. She figured you liked Mikey when she saw the stars in your eyes any time you looked at him and tried her best to set you both up, only for her plan to slap you in the face when Mikey treated you like dog shit. She switched gears to Izana but that even went so much worse that she had to step in.

Emma doesn’t understand why they hated you. You had done nothing but respected them, no matter how much they both hurt you. How could anyone hate you really? You were just so fragile, so quiet and you avoided trouble, so why do her brother’s keep insisting you’re no good for her?

“What’s on your mind?”

Draken’s quiet voice brought her back to reality, and she let out a quiet sigh, rolling her body to face him. “Just thinking about (name).” she mumbled, her eyes meeting his. “And how I royally fucked up by trying too hard to introduce her to Mikey and Izana.”

He hums in response, his brows furrowed together. “Mmh.” He shifts his body a bit to reach out his hand, stroking her face. “Mikey’s so cruel to the poor girl. If I were her, I’d hate his guts by now. Izana too.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of hating anyone.” Emma sighs softly for the umpteenth time, leaning into his touch. You’re not the type of person who can hate someone for treating you badly, no matter what. You’re so insistent on forgiveness, even though you’re in so much mental anguish that it baffles Emma. “The other day after my fight with Izana, she insisted I should talk to my brothers and forgive them, that she understands where they’re coming from. I think…” Emma pauses. “... it’s because she likes Mikey a lot, y'know. That’s why she’s so insistent on forgiving him.”

Draken’s expression darkens at the statement, his hand stopping mid-stroke. The once calm atmosphere basking in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking had turned ice cold, tension hanging in the air and it sort of scared Emma.

“Babe?”

Whatever it was that had crossed Draken’s mind quickly changed on hearing her frightened voice. He quickly shifted back to his warm gaze, stroking her hair again. “I’m sorry. I was just…” he trails off, a sigh escaping his lips as he recomposes himself. “There’s something I actually want to tell you-”

Draken’s words cut off as her alarm went off. Emma groaned outwardly, realizing that it was already time for her to start getting dressed for her important test. Reluctant, the blonde rolled off the bed nude and walked towards the bathroom.

“So sorry Ken.” She murmured, opening the door to the bathroom. “But I’ve got to go to class soon. Plus, I’m picking up (name) since she doesn’t have a ride there and I don’t want her to spend the little money she has on a bus fare. You can tell me later right?”

Emma doesn’t see the despair on Draken’s face. “Yeah. I’ll call you after class.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

  A LONG time ago, you dreamed of freedom.

You wanted to do something with your life other than the carefully crafted plans your parents had for you. You were told women belonged in the kitchen, that they should always be hairless, stand behind their husbands, and seen but not heard. That life felt like prison; cold and unloving, with nothing else to do. Your father wouldn’t even let your mother have female friends, because it would encourage gossiping and his wife should never be involved with gossip.

Despite your mother being on the more introverted side, you could still see the terrible loneliness in her eyes. She was like a bird in a cage, forced to sing for people when they have guests, serving them with a smile, but not too bright, otherwise your father would have an issue with her.

You didn’t want to become like your mother, so you ran right into another cage that you can’t see yourself getting out of.

You stare at yourself in the toilet mirror as the faucet runs, your heart dropping at how terrible and haggard you look right now. Not only did you have to deal with Izana’s subtle threat hanging over your head, but the test you had written the day after was also terrible, as if you’d forgotten everything you had studied for. You still have no luck in finding a job and those nightmares of Mikey continue to plague you.

Within a span of a few weeks, your life had been thrown into chaos. You miss the days where you were worried about getting the approval of Mikey and Izana, where you didn’t know the uglier sides of them and how far they would be willing to go to keep you quiet. 

“I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I should have stayed back and dealt with it.” Your voice is low, strained from all the crying you’ve done since you excused yourself from your hangout with Emma.

Emma.

You can’t even tell your best friend all your heartaches. Even ignoring what Izana said, just seeing her chat about her date with Draken, a smile plastered all over her face, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. You’re no longer confident that she would stand up for you, seeing how Izana was so convincing that you believed everything he said about the entire situation being your fault.

‘I need to face reality. I’m just someone she met a few months ago and those are her brothers she’s lived with for years. Why would she believe me over them?’

You were told that God doesn’t give you burdens He knows you cannot bear, but this one might be too heavy for you to carry.

Reaching for the faucet, you hastily splashed water on your face, trying to calm yourself down. Worse things have happened to you, worse things will happen to you and this is just one of them. You can bear the pain, the shame of letting that happen to you, so long as you never let it repeat itself again.

“I’ll stay away from them.” You say out loud, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It’s a promise; you know it’s the only way to get them off your back. If you make sure Emma spends less time with you and more with them, they’ll leave you alone. “I won’t be a bother or attend any of their parties or force myself into their friend groups. I’ll just be Emma's friend and that’s it.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you stare in the mirror again. Easier said than done.

You touch up your face a little, putting on your lip balm and redoing your hair. You force a smile onto your face, adjusting your blue dress and walk out of the bathroom with false confidence that could kill a sensible man. You held your head up high as you made your way back to the canteen; life gets harder on a daily basis, but at least you have a chance at making things easier for yourself.

‘Avoid the brothers, find a job, study harder.’ You repeat to yourself as you make your way back to the canteen where Emma was waiting for you. You still long for freedom to live a life you chose for yourself and you won’t let anyone ruin that for you. It’s merely a stumbling block that you’ll get over. In ten years time, you’ll forget about your terrible childhood, you’ll forget what Mikey did to you and how Izana made you feel like everything was all your fault.

Someday, you’ll live your dreams that seem so far away.

‘I’ll live in a house that I love, I’ll have a job and maybe a pet. I’ll have more friends and I’ll be ha-’

Your thoughts die the second they come in your line of sight.

Mikey sits on one side of Emma, making a pouty face while she laughs at him. Izana sits on the other side with his cheek resting on his hand, a humorous smirk plastered on his face. To everyone else, it looks like a family having a fun time, bonding and laughing together, but to you, it's a mocking gesture, reminding you of your place in Emma’s life and how much worth you have. That they can do what they like and not feel the slightest bit of guilt while you spend days crying and washing out the dirt off your body until your skin feels raw.

Mikey is the first person to notice you, dark eyes looking into yours and for a brief moment he stares blankly at your frozen figure standing a few feet away, before switching to a more sincere look.

“Oh uh, (name),” the way your name rolls off his tongue makes you anxious. It’s so calm and reserved, like you’re old friends that haven’t seen each other in ages. Like he wasn’t the same man that forced himself on you in his car. “We've been waiting for you. You spent a lot of time in the bathroom, are you still sick?”

If you weren’t feeling sick before, you do now. He sounds genuinely worried and if you were as clueless as Emma, you would have believed he was. The others turn their attention towards you and you feel even more nauseous when Izana gives you a worried frown, yet his eyes are full of mirth.

He finds this entire situation entertaining.

Everything inside you wants to scream at them, tell them to just stop whatever they are trying to do, but all you do is stand and stare at them blankly.

“You’re shaking. Come on, sit down, before you fall.” Emma teases, thinking that you’re shaking because you were nervous and not angry. “Geez guys, look at what being mean to her has done. She’s scared of you guys! You better hope she accepts your apology.”

An apology. They were here to give you a fake apology. After everything they had done to you, they had the audacity to come here to offer you an apology they didn’t even mean, just to get in Emma’s good graces again, and she bought every single bit of it.

“We’re really sorry for being mean to you.” Izana chimes in a remorseful tone, but he doesn’t mean it, not even the slightest bit. “I shouldn’t have called you a whore or made fun of you like that.”

They could have done this earlier. Right after the party. You wouldn’t have minded the fake apology as long as Emma was happy and you all could be cordial with each other. But they chose to ruin your life first, before going ahead to apologize, as if it would mean anything to you. As if it would undo the damage they have caused.

“I was a jerk.” Mikey says in a very apologetic tone that could have anyone else fooled. “All these months, I assumed you were coming between us and I let jealousy push me to do things I never meant to. Let’s put the past behind us and be friends.”

‘Be friends?’

Frustration bubbles up at the bottom of your chest, your heart pounding loudly against your chest as you look at the two men who made your life a living hell. All this time, you were planning on ignoring them and moving on with your life like nothing happened but they just won’t do the same, despite them hating you. Was this just to torment you until you left Emma permanently?

Why are they doing this to you?

Right now, you want to tell them no, you don’t want to ever be friends with them, you can forgive them but you want nothing to do with them. But everyone else in the cafeteria is staring, expectantly waiting for your answer. You know if you say anything now, your life will be ruined. No one in this cafeteria will be on your side, either out of fear of the Sano family connection or loyalty to them.

Yet again, you’ve lost.

Pushing down your anger and frustration to the bottom of your heart, you decide it is best to accept their apology publicly and keep your sentiments to yourself, a forced smile on your lips. “I-it’s alright. I know everything you’ve done is all for Emma.” It’s technically not a lie, but it isn’t true either. You take your seat right across the rest of the Sanos quietly, feeling everyone’s watchful gaze on you, picking up your drink in shaky hands. “I forgive you both. Let’s put the past behind us.”

Your heart drops further to your stomach when you realize what you had just said. You feel even worse when you realize you meant every word: that you forgive them, because you’re tired of being angry. You’re tired of holding them in your heart and making plans to avoid them. If you were going to keep secrets from Emma, then you’ll have to actually put it behind you or it would eat you alive.

Anyone else who knew your situation would have called you a moron for doing so, but when you look at Emma, who is smiling at her brothers, you know you did what you think is the right thing and you did it for the right reason.

Love.

Right.

YOU feel overwhelmed.

With your dwindling savings and the looming fear of failure concerning your tests hanging over your head, it feels like the world is throwing one curveball after another at you. Applying to jobs had been even more disappointing. Apparently, no one wanted to take in a college student who was fired from her last job, not especially after that scathing recommendation letter from your former employer that said very concerning things about you.

You know it won’t be long until you have nothing left and time is running out for you. At this rate if you don’t get any job, you might have to ask someone for a loan or financial aid. But you don’t want it to get to that.

‘I still have some time before then. I can get a new job, no matter what it is.’

With no classes for the rest of the day, you decide to keep searching for jobs with a renewed vigor. pulling yourself up and googling jobs with vacancies, writing applications and reviewing them before sending it to multiple places. You’re sure if you send a hundred applications, one will definitely call you back. You kept sending application after application until you lost count of how much you’ve put out. Your back aches from being hunched over to type on your phone, your eyes are blurry from staring at the screen for so long and your mouth feels dry but you don’t stop sending mails.

Immersed in your application, you don’t realize that someone is practically pounding on the door of your room until the door flies open, Emma barging in, guns blazing with a terrified look on her face. You exit out of your email app and close your tabs quickly just as she comes in, screaming your name with a shaky voice.

“(Name)? (Name)!”

You rush towards her, panicking that something terrible might have happened to her. Grabbing her by her shoulders, you hold her in place, trying to calm her down. “I’m here, I’m here. Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

For a few seconds, it’s as if Emma can’t register that it’s you holding her, struggling in your grasp until she looks at your face. Her eyes lit up in recognition, a sigh of relief escaping her lips only for her relieved face to turn furious, like she’s angry at you.

Scratch that, she IS angry at you.

“For god’s sake (name) don’t scare me like that!” You look at your best friend, clearly puzzled by her answer to your question as you release her shoulders. As if reading your mind, Emma adds; “I’ve been knocking on your door for the past ten minutes and when you didn’t answer, I called you again for five minutes but it said your line was busy! So I panicked. I thought something had happened to you.”

‘Whoops’

 You put your phone on do not disturb because you didn’t want any distractions while you were applying for jobs. You also never told anyone that you had lost your old job and you were looking for a new one, especially not Emma. Knowing her, if she knew you were fired, she’d try to assist you with money despite your protests. You don’t want to use her kindness for your own benefit, especially in this friendship. Even if you agreed to borrow money from her, she would never let you pay it back.

You’re the kind of person to pull your own weight, not to cast the burden onto someone else. You don’t want her to feel obligated to help you.

“I’m really sorry for scaring you. I put my phone on dnd because I was busy-”

“You never, EVER put your phone on DnD, even when you’re doing your homework.”

Now she sounds suspicious, the last thing you want. Knowing yourself, you find it hard to lie and Emma can be persuasive in figuring out secrets, like how she had convinced you to tell her you had a crush on her brother when you first met her.

You really don’t want her to find out this secret.

It’s as if for the first time someone hears your prayers for once because Emma drops this issue instantly. “You know what? That doesn’t matter.” She brushed your hands off her shoulders, letting them fall to your side as she walked away. “If your phone was on dnd, it means you didn’t get my message. No wonder you’re not dressed up.”

‘Message?’

For the third time today, your face scrunches up in confusion as Emma walks up to your wardrobe and starts digging through it. “What message?” You ask, tentatively. You hope it doesn’t have anything to do with either of her brothers - two people you’ve been avoiding for a while now. Just because you’ve given them grace doesn’t mean you want to be associated with them. It’s hard to not feel some form of resentment for what they did to you.

Without looking up from her task, she says cheerily, “Mikey and Izana said they want to take us out shopping today!”

Your heart drops at the statement. Just as you feared. Maybe things will never go your way and you just have to accept life as it is.

“Are you sure about that?” The last thing you wanted was to arrive at a place, only to find out your presence is unwanted, again.

“It’s not going to be like the last party, I swear.” It’s as if Emma can read your thoughts, because she dismisses the idea immediately. “Mikey practically begged me to drag you out- Oh this looks cute, come here (name).”

Despite being unnerved, you make your way towards Emma in strides until you’re besides her. You stand there, perplexed that of all the people, Manjiro Sano, who you’re sure despises you, asked for you to come with them. ‘Or maybe it wasn’t like that.’ You try to rationalize the whole situation. ‘Emma might have asked if I could come and he told her to go ahead. Maybe Izana wasn’t in the mood to protest it either, since he seems okay with my presence. Or he wants to test me to see if I’d say a peep.’

“I can hardly believe Manjiro would want me there.” You decide to voice out your doubts as Emma puts a couple of outfits on your body to see what matched. “Or that Izana wouldn’t protest my presence there. Just because they apologized doesn’t mean they automatically like m-”

“This dress looks so pretty on you. You’re totally wearing this.” Emma cuts you off, putting a white fitted dress with slight ruffles at the end, as if she wasn’t even listening to you. You’re about to voice your concerns again when she adds. “(name), my brothers never ever apologize to anybody. Mikey’s selfish and immature when it comes to taking accountability, even when he’s caught red handed and Izana is too prideful to ever admit he’s wrong. But they did that for you. Do you know how much of a big deal that is?”

“You had to give them the silent treatment for them to do it-”

“They still wouldn’t have apologized, they would have threatened to hurt you or put you in danger, as long as it meant you were gone and they didn’t have to say sorry. Sometimes, my brother’s pride is much more important than I am to them.” You feel a chill run down your spine when you register that Emma’s silence could have meant your disappearance. Suddenly, the gun in Izana’s hands last time wasn’t just a threat, it was a promise and it made sense now when he called you a fool for trusting him. “But they laid down that pride, for you. You. Don’t you understand?”

“I don’t-”

“I think my brothers are in love with you.”

“HUH!”

‘Excuse me?’

Your mouth fell open in shock, trying to process what you just heard. Their apology, the fake acting, everything worked well; too well in fact that Emma was suddenly jumping into the wildest conclusions, conclusions that not even in your wildest imaginations you could jump to. Maybe if you were still naïve, you would have been elated at the idea of the two brothers liking you in any capacity. If Mikey hadn’t sexually assaulted you and if Izana hadn’t pointed a loaded gun at your head, you would have believed that lie hook, line and sinker.

But you know the truth. Neither of the brothers are capable of loving you.

You don’t say anything to counter Emma or change her mind. Maybe it’s best she thinks they’re in love with you and live in her headspace that her plan of endearing you to her brothers worked. It’ll keep her less suspicious. “Well, don’t be shocked babe, it’s not just them, even the rest of the executives have a crush on you. You’re a work of art painted by god himself and you have the personality of a fucking saint, who wouldn’t love you?” She giggled, pushing the dress into your chest. “Now go shower and put this on. I’ll do your hair and makeup when you come out. I’ll tell the boys we’re going to be late.”

‘Yeah. Who wouldn’t love me?’

You force a smile as you disappear into the bathroom.

    IZANA knows you’re beautiful.

It’s not something that could be denied. Anyone could insult you about not having money or being a prude, but no one could ever call you ugly and mean it. You’ve got that sort of grace that many girls don’t have, not just the looks, but the purity of your soul and a heart of gold. Your innocence is like a white cloth, with no blemishes, no stains, because of your hard upbringing and strong morals.

To him, you would be fun to ruin.

He’s not the only one that can’t take his eyes off you. Mikey’s more obvious with his staring, watching your every move as you walked towards them alongside Emma. Dressed in a white short dress with ruffles at the bottom and a blue lace trim, your makeup is rather cutesy, doll-like even, making you look much more innocent than you usually do. Your demeanour today is not so different, donning your usual shy appearance, eyes cast down to your feet as opposed to Emma’s bright, preppy aura, her chin up and eyes alight.

Like night and day. You two couldn’t be any more different.

Mikey’s the first to react, ever the affectionate brother, pulling Emma into a tight hug the second she stepped in his vicinity.

“Emmaaaa”

Aware of his displeasure about them being two hours late, she hugged him back with equal intensity, rubbing his back to soothe him until he calmed down. Izana notices you looking at their interaction with a longing gaze in your eyes, and at first, he wonders if you want to hug Mikey too. It wouldn’t have surprised him, given how desperate you are for any form of affection, but then he remembers you too once had a family and you had elder brothers.

‘I wonder if she misses them.’

He’s cut off by his thoughts when Emma launches herself at him. He catches her in time, hugging her tight and patting her hair, Mikey also joining in the hug too, dorayaki always switches on his more affectionate side. You can only stand there awkwardly with your hands by your side, looking away from the three siblings as if you’re intruding in a private moment. Izana decides to be merciful enough to stop taunting you with their love.

“I think we’re making your friend jealous.” His purple eyes meet yours as he makes the statement. Your eyes widened as the three siblings separated, stammering out shaky excuses, clearly embarrassed that you were caught staring. “N-no, I don’t mean to- I-i mean I-i’m not… you can keep hugging I don’t mind… I’ll just…”

There it is again. That shyness as you looked down at your feet, trying to hide your flustered gaze away from them. Izana thinks that perhaps his favourite trait of yours is the ability to get so worked up easily, it makes it so fun to tease you.

“Aww, (name), do you want a hug too?” Emma eggs on, making you even more flustered. Oh so you also swing that way, interesting. “You must be feeling left out-”

“Emma!”

Your outburst only makes the three siblings laugh at you for a full minute before dropping the whole thing altogether. Besides, they were in public, any further teasing would have turned into something more charged.

He wonders what would happen if you were alone with either of them.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Emma says, walking back to you and grabbing your arm, pulling you alongside her. “Come on, we came out too late and all the stores are gonna close within four hours. Let’s go!”

Izana follows behind Mikey, until he catches up with him. He realizes his brother is silent, which was odd since he was so chatty and affectionate just minutes before. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when he follows Mikey’s gaze to your backside, lust practically oozing from how he was undressing you with his eyes.

Izana gets it. Your dress makes your body look good and your ass looks amazing in it; if he had any less control, he would have pounced on you in the middle of the mall.

But for someone who said he doesn’t want you at first, Mikey looks like he wants to drag you into a corner and fuck you like a slut right now. Sometimes, he wonders why Mikey chooses to lie and deny himself of things he wants instead of asking his dear big brother for help.

The white haired male leans closer to Mikey, his voice low enough for only the both of them to hear. “Don’t forget our bet.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

    YOU’RE not buying anything.

It’s a blow to Mikey’s pride that you’re just standing there, not touching anything.

He thought you’d jump at the opportunity to take his money and run wild with it, so that he’ll call Izana’s bluff about you loving him. For someone as poor as you, free money is like a dream come true. He knows your type of woman; pretty, nothing up in your head apart from books and the desire to want something more. He’s dated girls below and at his financial ladder, and most of the times, the poor girls love to drain him dry of his cash- not like that would ever happen, what’s a few million dollars gonna do to his wealth

It makes him feel less guilty when he eventually takes his own payment in kind, letting out his dark impulses when he has desires to be fulfilled. He drains them of all the love and adoration they can give to him until there’s nothing left for him to lord over.

Mikey watches you from the corner of his eye, the way you take note of each outfit before just nodding and moving to the next one. It annoys him. ‘Do you think you’re too good for an expensive designer brand (name)?’

Eventually, he gets up from his chair, excusing himself from one of Emma’s fitting sessions to meet up with you. He doesn’t miss the way your hand shakes nervously as you hide it behind your back, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Oh hey Mik- Manjiro. Do you need anything?”

“Don’t you like anything in this store?”

“W-what? Of course I do, the clothes here are pretty-”

“But you aren’t buying anything.”

It’s your turn to be confused, looking at Manjiro like he had two heads. What could possibly be going on in that head of yours that made his statement so surprising? “If you don’t like anything in this store, I could take you to another place while Emma and Izana stay here. We can meet up with them later.”

You look at him for a few seconds, blinking once, then twice before smiling at him, a bit more honest this time and to his dismay he feels something hot burning in his chest and spreading to his face. “Oh, that’s nice of you,” your words come out in a drawl, eyes half-lidded as you thumb one of the clothes. “But the truth is, everything in this mall is much too overpriced, so I can’t really afford anything, but it’s how life is. I’ve worked in a store like this before, I can tell you that I buy similar clothes in the thrift store for less and save money for my next year tuition while looking good. Quality isn’t too different either and I’m happy.”

For the first time, Mikey really takes a good look at your face, because he’s sure you’re not the same person; talking about responsibility and budgeting instead of scuffing at your feet like you usually do.

He understands why Izana called him a self-centered fool that never noticed anything that didn’t involve himself. The world has given you so much pain and suffering and yet, you work around it to just survive and move on, not once blaming him for anything.

He hopes for your sake, Izana isn’t right for saying he’s in love with you.

“Manjiro?”

There’s a softness to your gaze when you look at him, as opposed to other girls who stare at him like he holds heaven and the earth in his hands.

It’s the same way his mother used to look at him.

He quickly pushed that thought aside, nearly appalled he compared you to his mother. If he didn’t know better, he’d think you love him unconditionally. But that’s not possible. No one loves a stranger unconditionally, there has to be something you want from him.

But that’s fine, you’ll help each other plenty.

“(Name), you don’t know why I told Emma to bring you here?”

“You wanted me here?”

“I promised you I was going to take you out shopping that day in the car.”

You wince visibly when he mentions it, and it annoys him, you’re acting like he did something horrible like rape you. Honestly, if you’re going to keep acting like this, maybe he should just do it, then you’ll have a reason to be terrified of him. “I’m trying my best to forget that day ever happened and put it behind me. You already apologized to me and I forgave you. You don’t have to do anything to make up for it-”

‘All this niceness is making me sick to my stomach. I need to shut her up fast.’

Before you could finish speaking, Mikey called one of the saleswomen around, telling them to come quickly.

“What are you-”

“Help her pick whatever she wants. I’ll pay for it.”

“Yes sir. Follow me.”

You look mortified, about to open your mouth to protest, only to be dragged away by the saleswoman before you could voice your grievances.

From the corner of the room, Mikey can feel Izana watching you both, an amused smirk etched onto his lips and Emma practically swooning over how romantic it was that Mikey wants to spend it on you.

‘Emma buys it. Perhaps I should listen to Izana more often.’

  YOU hate being the center of attention. If you knew that this kind of thing was going to happen, you would have doubled down on not coming with Emma.

“Let me buy your food (name)-”

“No little brother, you’ve spent enough, I can take care of it-”

“I’m not complaining about spending money now am I?”

“Focus on getting your kiddie meals, let a man take care of the bills.”

You hate this so much. You’ve heard of the Sano brothers competing against each other for the pettiest of reasons, but you never expected to be one of them. Now, you can’t even eat in peace after spending hours on your feet trying on clothes.

You’ve heard whispers of people calling you a gold digger. The store clerks, other patrons, anyone who happened to see you buy all those things have said horrible things about you. Making assumptions that you must be sleeping with the Sano brothers - their newest attraction and predicting your downfall soon enough because you must have seduced them.

Here in this food court, everyone is giving you a dirty look for not only holding the line, but because of their preconceived notion; you’re not worth the hold up.

And it’s giving Emma even worse ideas, really fueling the theory that they’re “in love” with you. But you know the truth. It’s like when your brothers would fight amongst each other to get a pretty girl, only to use and dump her because she’s just a prize.

Mikey and Izana don’t like you, they’re trying to outdo each other.

“Manjiro, Izana”

Their bickering stops the moment they hear you calling them. They slowly turn their attention towards you, their gazes burning holes into you for interrupting their conversation. You’re careful with your next words, it’s easier to tolerate them treating you like a pinup doll than them hating you and you don’t want to make them angry either, knowing fully well they’ll hurt you the second Emma isn’t looking at them. “I’m so sorry for causing all this commotion and keeping you two from eating. How about you both get something to eat first? I haven’t made up my mind yet, maybe we can get something to go when you’re done.”

You hold your breath, praying to God that they take this as you being an idiot for putting them first and just do as you asked. Luckily for you, your relief was immediate as they suddenly relaxed, mumbling “yeah, you’re right.” And “I’m actually hungry” before doing as you said. A sigh of relief crosses your lips as they finally get their separate orders and make their way back to the private booth they ordered, guards standing outside waiting for you three to be back.

Emma’s eyes lit up in amusement as you came in and sat next to her, a smug smirk tugging on her lips, as if telling you ‘they’re so head over heels in love with you.’ “Seems like you didn’t get any food, (name)” her tone is teasing. You know she has good intentions, but that’s the last thing you want to hear after the embarrassing ordeal you just went through right now. “Couldn’t decide between spicy or sweet? You can just pick both.”

You know exactly what she’s insinuating, but honestly, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. You feel like what they’re doing is backing you into a corner, it’s going to be harder to believe that both of them hurt you, especially with everything that they’ve done. It’s not like you can say no because they’ll get angry and hurt you again for insulting their pride. And if you do keep their gifts, they’re not above using it to make you do things you don’t want to.

‘Just look on the bright side.’ You try to think positively. ‘They might not go to the extreme since Emma is watching them closely-’

“THIS DOESN’T HAVE A FLAG ON IT. I’M NOT EATING IT.”

Of course. Things can never go so smoothly whenever you find yourself in the company of the Sano brothers.

“Mikey not this again. Ken is not here to put a flag for you and I’m not doing that for you either.” Emma sighs in annoyance. “You’re twenty-four, not fourteen, eat your damn food.”

“I’m not eating this shit.”

You thought it was a rumor that Mikey has an obsession with flags and wouldn’t eat without it, but this being a fact was … shocking. You watch as the man pouts, like he’s not the feared president of Toman’s fraternity but a spoiled kid; it’s somehow cute, the way he looks distraught over his food. ‘Reminds me of my younger cousin who wouldn’t eat unless someone fed him. Specifically me. Moments like this make Mikey seem so human.’

“Come onnn” Emma groans. “Mikey eat! You said you won’t do this again-”

“No”

Emma’s at her wit ends at this point and turns to Izana, but quickly dismisses the idea of asking him for help, probably because it would cause another fight, turning to you instead. “(Name), please convince him to eat something” Emma pleaded. “Trust me, you don’t want to be around a starving Mikey, he can be very snippy.”

You want to reject the idea, but with Emma’s pleading gaze and your inability to say no, you decide to try. You’ve had experiences with little kids who dig into their heels, refusing to do anything, and compromise is always the answer. You think that would work on Mikey too. “Manjiro, we don’t have a flag here or anything, what can we do to help you eat?”

He’s silent, still pouting as he thinks of your proposition for a few minutes until his eyes light up, a devious smirk slowly crawling onto his lips as he stares at you.

“Sit on my lap and feed me.”

Emma nearly chokes on her food, coughing loudly as she drinks water in an attempt to catch her breath. Izana only chuckles at Mikey’s bizarre but not surprising request, continuing to enjoy his now premium entertainment. You think it’s a joke, asking him to be more serious until Mikey repeats his request with a serious expression on his face. “Sit on my lap and feed me or I won’t eat this shit. I’ll even throw it away.”

‘This cannot be happening’

“Manjiro we’re in publi-” You’re cut off by Emma kicking you hard under the table, her eyes sharp enough to cut through glass. Stifling a cry of pain, you turn to her, your voice in a low whisper. “This is too much. What if someone see us-”

“And so what? This is your chance to cozy up with Mikey. He’s willingly let you touch him which means he definitely likes you. You have to stop being shy about your own affection.” She hissed back. You want to tell her that this has nothing to do with being shy with your affection, but has everything to do with Mikey’s previous actions whenever you got too close to him. “And there’s nothing dirty or wrong about feeding him and sitting on his lap. It’s just an innocent thing.”

“B-but-”

“(Name) just please. It’s a private booth, no one’s gonna look inside. Mikey has problems with eating, just this once, please please-”

Emma’s begging eventually gets to your soft heart and you cave in, pushing yourself up from your end of the booth and crossing over to his side. Mikey’s smile only gets bigger as you lower yourself onto his knees so that he doesn’t get the wrong idea, ignoring the way your legs were shaking from how nervous you were. You reach for the spoon to start, only for two strong hands to yank you forward until your ass sat comfortably on his thighs, earning a gasp from you.

“There, that’s better.” He murmured. “You’re much more comfortable like this.”

You’re not, but you know he doesn’t care. It’s his and Izana’s goal to cross as many of your boundaries as they can, just to see how much they’ll get away with.

‘Just do what you’re told. It’ll be over before you know it.’

Swallowing the utter embarrassment and nervousness you felt right now, you picked up a spoonful of food and angled it to his lips, a smile on yours to hide your true emotions.

“Open wide.”

Surprisingly, Mikey’s receptive to your feeding, reducing the embarrassment by at least fifty percent. You take the job as seriously as you can, easing him into opening his mouth and encouraging him to chew and swallow like you would your cousin and he does as he’s told without much of a fuss, his eyes glazed over in bliss, despite Izana constantly looking like he wants to laugh and Emma staring at the two of you like a couple out of a romance story, her eyes almost in hearts.

With more eager bites Mikey takes, you get more comfortable on his lap -apart from the hard thing poking your behind, most likely his keys-, your hand hovering under his spoon to avoid his food from spilling on his clothes. Emma may have a point, there was nothing wrong with feeding him, as long as he eventually ate something and perhaps he was just too lazy to do it on his own.

Unlike the other encounters, it doesn’t feel dirty or wrong, Mikey doesn’t creep a hand underneath your dress or touch your thighs, despite the booth being private enough and the table large enough to cover him if he attempts to do so. Izana doesn’t make lewd jokes about it either, apart from muttering ‘pervert’ and ‘spoiled brat’ to Mikey’s hearing -which makes him pout briefly- and Emma thinks it’s innocent enough to take videos of you two being cute together, sending it to their other friends.

It was weird, but seeing him wait on you patiently instead of yelling at you was nice. It’s been a while since you took care of anyone and he looked so innocent with his puffed up cheeks and bright eyes, waiting on you to feed him.

This was definitely the sweetheart, cheeky Mikey everyone talked about whenever he was brought up in a conversation of attractive men. The one you fantasized about when imagining how nice he’d be to you as opposed to his cold demeanour.

But still, you know it’s not permanent. It doesn’t make him any less cruel, just more human. You know it’s an act, but it still makes you sad regardless.

You wished he was kind to you all the time.

Emma’s phone pings with a new message in the middle of videoing you both, brows furrowing as she reads the text carefully. You all notice the sudden change of mood, from her usual chirpy self to a troubled expression.

“I totally forgot, I promised Yuzuha to help with her and Mitsuya’s project.” she hurriedly began picking up her things. “I’ve gotta go. You guys better drop (name) at her place safely.”

‘No! Don’t leave without me’

You’re about to open your mouth and tell her you want to leave with her, but you feel Mikey’s hand on your waist gripping you tightly, the warning loud and clear: keep your mouth shut. 

“Sure Em. We’ll get her home safely. Promise” Izana speaks for you, his eyes glimmering with mischief. Reassured, she pecks both her brothers’ on the cheeks before giving you a not so subtle wink, encouraging you to ‘have fun’ with her brothers.

You wish she was not so trusting of her big brothers.

  YOU have a bad habit of denying the ending of a book, until you reach there and realize there’s nothing you could do to save the protagonist.

You remember crying after reading “Lolita” for the first time. Emma had warned you beforehand that justice is never served at the end of the story and yet while reading it, you half-expected - no hoped for- someone to jump in and save the little girl. When you read Macbeth, you hoped he’d return to his senses before killing the king that was his good friend. When reading Hamlet, you hoped he would tell Ophelia he was sorry for killing her father, that he’d tell her he loved her before she died. You hoped Juliet would wake up before Romeo drank the poison, stopping him from killing himself, despite reading all these stories over and over again.

But just like your life, these stories were tragedies and the characters were doomed by the narrative.

You knew Emma had unintentionally sealed your fate when she left you in the care of her brothers to meet up with Yuzuha and you tried rationalizing every action that led you up to this point while in the car with the brothers heading off to your dorm. Could you have avoided hanging out with Emma today? Maybe not. She would have noticed you shying away from her brothers and become suspicious. Rejecting any offer given to you by the Sanos could mean insulting them.

Mikey is someone who hates hearing ‘no’.

‘There’s no point in thinking about the what ifs’ you tell yourself solemnly. ‘Every choice I could have made would have brought me back to them, regardless.’

The car revs to a stop at your dorm, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Thank you very much for everything.” You don’t look up from your lap, too scared to face them now that you’re alone. “I’m grateful for all the things you bought me.”

“You probably need help in carrying all of that, don’t you?” Mikey doesn’t acknowledge your thanks, but you don’t really expect him to. “I’ll help. Izana, you can wait, right?”

“I’m giving you an hour.”

You want to reject his help, but Izana’s the one driving and you’re at the backseat with your properties. You saw him when he put on the child lock earlier on, so you know you couldn’t just open the door and make a run for it.

You wait patiently for Mikey to come out of the passenger’s seat, opening the door and taking out the larger clothes and shoes, leaving you with only the little things like smaller clothes and the few jewelry you bought.

Correction, Mikey bought for you.

You go ahead of him, being the one who knows your room and the two of you walk in silence. Tension lies thick between the two of you as you make your way up the stairs, past the other rooms until you reach the end of the hallway. Like a predator, he watches you carefully as you turn the locks with trembling hands, opening it completely and entering inside. He doesn’t wait for an invitation, letting himself inside the room and kicking the door shut behind him.

Your eyes try to look anywhere but him as you open your wardrobe and arrange your new things. From the corner of your eye, you watch him drop your shopping bags beside your feet and move towards your bedside table. As you bend to pick up the rest of the clothes to neatly fold into squares while you figure out what to do with it, you spot him thumbing your Rosary beads between his fingers, as if he’s deep in thought.

“Seen this with Hakkai before.” He murmurs just enough for you to hear. You almost forgot he and Hakkai know each other, and with your bitter history with the Shibas, you assume that they probably have something to do with Mikey’s notion about you. “What do you use it for?”

“Prayers” You answer. “For protection, too.”

He laughs in response; it’s dark, tinged with mockery as opposed to his earlier laughter with his family, making your rate speed up until you can hear it thrumming in your ears. You know why he’s laughing and if you didn’t find yourself in this kind of predicament with him, you would have found it funny too.

“A lot of good it has done in protecting you.”

You don’t say anything in response, opting to stay quiet so that you don’t argue or agree with him. He has a point, a lot good it has done in protecting you when you wore it that day in Mikey’s car. Or when Izana broke into your room to harrass you. Or when you press it close to your chest in the night, hoping to keep your nightmares away. At this point, you’re sure your sins are too great for God to care about you anymore or hear your prayers.

After all, He couldn’t bear to look at his own son when the sins he was dying for was much too piled up on him, how much more you?

Mikey doesn’t say anything more, dropping the beads back before focusing his attention elsewhere. You continue with your tasks silently, slowly folding your new clothes in squares attempting to make space for them and wasting his time, hoping one hour would come by quickly so that he would leave.

‘I just need one hour to pass-’

“Are you in love with me (name)?”

You freeze.

The answer should be simple, shouldn’t it? After all he’s done to you, every humiliating ordeal he put you through the entire time you’ve known him, you should loathe his very presence. Resentment always lurks beneath your skin whenever you see him with another girl, knowing fully well he could get whoever he wants, he can sleep with them whenever he pleases and yet he chose to not only hurt you, but go on with his own life while yours falls apart.

Yet, you can’t say it.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his footsteps inch closer, his eyes burning holes on your back. You shudder when you feel his hand on your bicep, roughly turning you around to face him. Dark eyes scan your features, before meeting your own, staring into them as the silence stretches on.

“Oh” he said, still maintaining his grip on you. Your silence is a resounding answer to his question and now all you feel is shame. For being romantically attracted to him. For being so weak that you couldn’t hate him or push him off you. You want to crawl up in yourself and hide away from him, so that he can’t see how pathetic and vulnerable you are anymore.

“You look ashamed (name). Is it because you want to resent me, but you can’t? Or because you know I don’t love you?” His free hand cups your face, cleaning the tear drop that had rolled down your cheeks, a gesture so gentle and yet, at the same time so cruel when you couple it with the fact that his fingers are digging into your arm painfully. “It’s okay. You don’t need to cry.”

“M-manjiro, please go hom-”

You hate yourself. You hate how you’re melting into his touch like you’re ice in his warm hands. You should be pushing him away and telling him to go to hell, to stop touching you. Instead, you let him drag you away from the wardrobe towards your bed, the inevitable. Heart thudding against your chest, body trembling with tears streaming down your face, you brace yourself to be shoved on the bed roughly and taken advantage off by force, your pleas of mercy and forgiveness ignored.

Only for him to let go of you.

You stand there, confused as he sits on the bed comfortably, his legs slightly spread. His face looked so calm and impassive, like this was his room, his space and you were the one out of place. “Come sit here, (name)” He points at his legs. You don’t move, frozen on your spot as the realization dawns on you about Mikey’s plan.

He wants you to be a willing participant.

You take a step back, ready to run away from here as fast as possible, but Mikey only tuts in disappointment. “Would you rather I chase you down and rape you instead?” The way he says it so casually, like he didn’t just threaten you sends chills down your spine. “You know fully well you can’t outrun me.”

You swallow hard, weighing your choices as you stare at him. Running away right now would give you a chance to get away from him, but he could still catch up to you if he wants to. Even if you escape him, Izana is downstairs and would willingly hunt you for sport. You thought of hiding in one of your dormmate’s room, but no girl here likes you enough to incur Toman’s wrath.

‘I’m finished.’

Your feet move on their own towards Mikey and his hands maneuver your body until you’re straddling him, your legs on either side of his waist, knees digging into the mattress, your crotch hovering over his. You wait for him to attack you with his touches or kisses, for him to take what he wants and leave you a broken woman, but he doesn’t move an inch, only opting to speak, his breath tickling your face.

“Show me how much you love me.”

“What?” You whisper, confused. What does he mean by that? “I don’t understand-”

“You said you love me, so show me.” He repeats again. “Pleasure me.”

Pleasure him? You don’t know how to do anything. Apart from kissing someone, which you only learned when you stayed with the Shiba’s, you were so sheltered that you don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Even when you asked your mother about how to please your husband, she only told you that your job is to lie down and let the man do as he pleases. Emma had made a significant effort in trying to show you a demonstration, but ultimately you chickened out because you couldn’t risk watching something as filthy as pornography.

‘He’s going to get angry at me.’ You start to panic. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Oh God, he’ll hurt me for sure. He’ll force himself on me again-’

“I-i don’t know what to do… I’ve never done this before- I’m sorry, I’m sorry- please don’t hurt me.”

You don’t realize that you’re shaking once again, until you feel his hands slipping onto your waist, gripping it tight to steady you. “Stop shaking. This is why I don’t like virgins.” Mikey snapped. If you didn’t feel embarrassed before, you feel utterly humiliated. Not only were you forced into a situation you didn’t want to be in, you couldn’t even do anything to get yourself out of it.

You gasp quietly as he pushes your hips down to his crotch, pressing your clothed cunt against his hard cock. Your head falls onto his shoulder as his hands grab your ass from under your dress, rocking you against him, your dress lifting up higher and higher until it’s past your thighs.

His hands are hot against the fat of your ass, his warm breathy groans tickling down your neck as he pleasures himself with your body. The friction feels good, much to your horror, so good that you nearly forget what kind of predicament you found yourself in, feeling the ridge of his dick touch your clit repeatedly, jolts of pleasure running down your body, a damp patch growing on your panties. At the back of your mind, you know you don’t want this, but the way he controls your hips to his rhythm, the soft grunts he lets out of his lips and the way his breath tickles your skin, has you lowering your inhibitions bit by bit, holding onto his shoulders to attempt to anchor yourself down.

‘I-i’m not… I shouldn’t feel good doing this-’

A whine nearly escapes your lips as he abruptly stops his grinding, the small pleasure you felt suddenly ripped away from you. You quickly sit straight up, about to ask him what was going on, only for him to say. “You know what to do now, so do it.”

Oh. He was teaching you how to get him off. Of course, you must have forgotten that this was all supposed to be for his pleasure, not yours.

He lets go of your bottom, resting his elbows on the bed, dark eyes watching you, waiting for you to go ahead. You balance yourself, warping your hands around his neck and pressing your hips downwards, trying to mimic his previous movements. Your hip movements are awkward, slow, out of rhythm, and you start to panic. With his dark eyes trained on you, nervousness starts to creep in, your body trembling once again, making your movements even more unpleasant.

You peek at Mikey from your lashes, your heart dropping down to your stomach as you see the increasing frustration and annoyance written all over his face. It makes you try harder, try to arch your back, try to grind harder onto him but it doesn’t earn a sound from him.

‘I’m trying. I’m trying. God knows I’m trying but I can’t do it right I can’t-’

Mikey’s patience with your ‘incompetence’ runs thin, and before you know what was happening, your back hits the hard mattress, his body hovering above you. Panic rises in your chest when you see his darkened gaze, fury, lust and disgust all mixed into his eyes as he pinned you down with one hand. “Can’t do one thing right. You claim to love me but you can’t even make me happy. I did all that for you and yet you can’t do what I want-”

You struggle against his grasp when he grabs the front of your white dress- your favourite dress and suddenly rips it off your body and into shreds, the rope burns leaving marks on your body, your panties following suit. You let out a guttural scream, fear creeping in your veins when you realize just how far gone Mikey was.

“STOP IT! STOP IT MIKEY! MIKEY PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME- I’M SORRY, I’LL LOVE YOU HARDER, JUST DON’T DO THIS TO ME-”

He ignores your screams, discarding the scraps of clothes and using his free hand to undo his belt, his expression blank, uncaring. You kick against his feet, screaming at him to stop but it falls on deaf ears as he drags out his penis, lowering his hips closer to yours. You started to weep, as he gathered what’s left of your slick.

“If you do this to me, I’ll never forgive you.” You weep, tears rolling down your cheeks. He doesn’t react, gathering spit in his mouth and spitting on your uncovered woman hood, before rubbing his cock on it again. “I’ll hate you for the rest of my life, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” He doesn’t say anything, his cockhead pushing through your hole bit by bit until you hiss out.

“I’ll kill myself.”

He paused his movements, his eyes growing wide as you utter those words, but you’re too exhausted to care. “I’ll kill myself if you take the only thing I have left. I know you don’t care because you already have blood on your hands, what’s my life compared to others? but I will kill myself-”

“You can’t be serious-”

You curse him out, the all bitterness and frustration of life laced in your voice. “You made everyone hate me. I lost my job, failed my test and because I was haunted by what you did to me in that car to the point I couldn’t sleep. When you apologized, I forgave you. I forgave you because loving you was all that I had left and I hoped that you’ll change. I don’t have money, I don’t have a family, I don’t have friends, I have NOTHING else to live for. If you take the one thing I have left, I will kill myself!"

It’s as if something in Mikey’s brain clicked. He pulls out his tip from you before he could go any further, tucking his manhood back into his trousers. Through tear streaked eyes, you could see an unfamiliar look in his visage, something you thought he would never feel for anyone but himself.

Guilt.

He lets you go, climbing off your body and standing upright, his hand tousling his long blond hair, immense guilt written on his face. You turn around, away from him and curl into a ball to hide your body from him, nursing your bruised wrists while sobbing quietly. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything as you cry, not even to defend himself. Eventually, you hear him shuffle around, before dropping something on your table and turning to leave.

You don’t look at him as he turns the knob, opening your room door to leave.

“I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone, please.”

He doesn’t say anything else, closing the door behind him silently. With him gone, you peek over your shoulder to see what he put on the table.

The huge stack of cash only makes you curl into a tighter ball and weep harder.

Bonus:

  THE look on Mikey’s face was nothing short of priceless.

It’s a mixture of anger, hurt and guilt - so much guilt that could kill a normal man. Izana could only watch humorously as Mikey sat down in the passenger seat of his car, violently tossing his phone onto his lap.

“You won. Here’s your stupid pictures.”

He only smiles at his little brother’s anger, finding it hilarious that his brother would be upset at being wrong about you being in love with him. “Wow Mikey, you really work fast. How the hell did she not know the spy cameras were there huh?” Izana snickered, picking the phone up to look at the pictures taken. His grin only stretches further as he sees you in intimate positions, even one with you fully naked, your perfect tits out on display and tears running down your cheeks. “Come on, how was your first time with a virgin? You don’t look too happy. Did she cry a whole lot-”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

His smile falls lopsided. There was something strange about Mikey, like he had done something he couldn’t take back. Which was shocking, this was the same man that had paid Makoto - your PA, to put spy cameras in your room, what changed? “Why though? Don’t tell me she made you go soft or something-”

“She was going to fucking kill herself if I went through with it.”

“And you stopped?” Izana scoffed at Mikey. Really? That’s why he didn’t go ahead with taking what he wants? “She was gonna silence herself permanently, no one would have known.”

Mikey’s jaw clenched, but he only grunted, his eyes looking down at his lap. “Just drive me back to my dorm room.”

Izana rolled his eyes at Mikey. “This is the last time I help you with a girl, all that effort for nothing.” He snaps, revving up the engine to leave. “Since when did you get so soft, Mikey? Don’t tell me you fell in love with her while you were on top of her?”

Mikey stays quiet this time, his silence holding the answers.

‘Well fuck. That was unexpected.’

Special thanks to: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @pikibee @tomeyano @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @m0onz1 @hapikiou @rainnyzz @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @theblueslytherin @rabbit @kakusimp @Rin-10 @sousydive @torasplanet @playgirlfawn @gumiegumie @kurokawaia @anastasiatheloveofyourlife @bontenxo @satorubby @black-swan-blog27 @asirensrage

[writethrough]

I Know Better

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.

Warnings: Language, slut-shaming

Word Count: 1396

A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.

I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  

This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.

And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.

I hope you enjoy!

Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me

"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 

Moodboard by @saradika

Billy Hargrove never scared you. 

Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 

You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 

You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 

Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 

He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 

You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 

It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 

You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 

You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 

Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 

In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 

You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 

“Wanna say that again?” 

Your brows pulled in confusion. 

What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 

It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 

Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 

He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 

Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 

Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 

I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 

No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 

Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 

The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 

At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 

You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 

“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 

“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 

“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 

Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 

It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 

He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 

“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 

You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 

This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 

But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 

“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 

There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 

“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 

“You’ll have mine.” 

The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 

You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 

— 

That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 

He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 

“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 

“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 

He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 

“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 

You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 

You took a shot in the dark. 

“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 

His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 

So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 

But why? 

And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 

You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 

“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 

“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 

At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 

“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 

“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 

Of course, that was what he took away. 

“Billy,” you warned playfully. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 

You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 

“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 

“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 

Names.  

You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 

You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 

He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 

“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 

“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 

He leaned his elbows on the table. 

“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 

Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

[ashwhowrites]

Can you do one where Eddie and the reader are in a secret relationship and Eddie wants to make it public but the reader doesn’t and he feels insecure about it but in reality the reader doesn’t want him to get picked on.They get into a big fight but they make up please and thank you 💖💘

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Ending isn't proofread whatsoever

To be ready

Y/N and Eddie agreed to keep their relationship a secret for the beginning. They wanted to date and get to know each other without everyone getting in their business.

Eddie struggled with it once they reached their five month anniversary. He felt like it was long enough and he was ready to express his feelings for her with no shame. Y/N was a little bit more nervous but she agreed, it felt like the right time.

"You ready?" Eddie asked, the smile on his face full of excitment. Her heart warmed knowing how badly he wanted to show her off, and their relationship. This was going to be their first public moment, and the first time he will introduce her to his band.

She gripped his hand, nerves filling her body. "Yes," she smiled, even though she was terrified. All she had to do was meet new people, it couldn't go that bad, right?

He walked them through the back of the bar, a small gig for the band. He walked into the small backroom and she slipped in behind. She saw a group of some boys and girls, all talking.

"Well, look who finally showed up. And not alone," one of the guys said, teasing Eddie. Eddie's face responded in a blush.

"Gareth, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Baby, this is Gareth, one of my best friends."

Y/N released his hand to kindly shake Gareth's hand.

"It's nice to meet you," Gareth replied.

She met the rest of the band, and the band's girlfriends. Or groupies, if she was honest. A few gave her dirty looks and it made her nervous. She couldn't help but notice how opposite she was from them. Their clothes were different, the way they talked and carried themselves.

Once the show started, the boys went on stage and the girls joined the crowd. Y/N was in awe watching her boyfriend perform. She forgot about all the girls, just focused on him. As the show ended, she excused herself to the bathroom.

She headed back out to the crowd. Everyone was spacing out now that the entertainment was done. She spotted the girls from earlier waiting by the back doors, where the band would be. She headed over to join them as they waited.

"How long do you think they've been together?"

"Who knows, but I would've kept her hidden. She is so not his type," the three girls snickered. Y/N frowned as it was clear they were talking about her.

"I know! I'm not sure how she managed to pull that off"

"She must have a great personality"

"Isn't he worried she's going to ruin his whole sexy rockstar look? She'll only bring him down. He should be with someone as attractive as he is"

Y/N felt a lump in her throat. She began to second guess the whole thing. They let a few people know and everything she feared that would happen was happening. Eddie was getting looked down on because of her.

Insecurity and anxiety filled her. She felt much less ready to share their relationship with more people. She was back craving their nights alone in his bed, where no one had thoughts on them. As the girl's laughter began to get louder, she ran out.

She grounded herself against the wall, inhaling the smoke as a few people blew their cigarettes. The door opened and she saw her boyfriend looking around, with worry in his eyes. Once his eyes landed on her, his gaze softened.

"There you are, what's wrong?" he asked, as he got closer he noticed her tears. She sniffled and wiped her face, a fake smile sent his way.

"Nothing! I just needed some air," she said but Eddie gave her a look.

"Fine," she sighed, "I'm second-guessing telling people about us."

"It's been an hour. We have to try longer than that before giving up," he argued. She feared where the conversation would go knowing Eddie had been growing more annoyed as the months went by.

"I know, but those girls...I'm not like them, Eddie."

"No one said you had to be, all you have to do is be yourself. Let's go in, have a drink, and try," he said holding out his hand.

"I don't feel ready for that, Eddie. I'm sorry. I thought I could do this but I can't." She flinched as Eddie's face hardened. He puffed air out of his nose and rubbed a hand over his face.

It was clear he was agitated, and she felt horrible for causing it.

"When will you be?" Eddie snapped, his force harsher than he intended. "Six months? A year?"

"I don't know," she said as she rubbed her temples. She hated the way she felt and how hard everything felt.

"Do you even want to be with me?" he asked, his face falling. His words were much softer, a little more broken.

"Of course I do!" Y/N gasped, moving closer as he cupped his face in her hands.

"Then why can't you tell other people that?" he looked up at the sky as he tried to keep his emotions back. But the familiar feeling of not being good enough was creeping in.

"I can, Eddie. But dating me, telling people, I've been scared people will pick on you. And I was right! Those girls said everything I feared," she explained. She figured her honesty would help him understand but she gulped when he stepped back and removed her hands from his face.

"Y/N, I've been picked on all my life. I don't give a shit about what people have to say, and you shouldn't either," Eddie explained.

"I don't think I can just ignore it!" Y/N exclaimed, "their words have weight. I'm not like you, I can't shove away people's opinions and thoughts about me and us."

"I think we have different mindsets of being in this relationship," Eddie whispered, he feared he couldn't talk louder without a sob breaking through.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm in this relationship to be with you, to love you and be happy with you. The only person I care about is you, the only person's that thoughts matter to me is you. You can't say the same." Y/N panicked at his words. The look in his eyes and the goodbye tone in his voice.

"But I do!" she tried to argue

Eddie laughed bitterly and scoffed. She moved passed the way his reaction snapped her heart in half. "You don't care about me. If you did, you wouldn't be breaking us up."

"YOU ARE!" Y/N yelled, tears building in her eyes.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE A SECRET!" Eddie yelled back. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. "You're worried about how others will treat me because of you? What about you? What about how you're treating me. You know all I want is for us to be together, no secrets and no shame. And you can't get over yourself to give me that."

"I understand I'm hurting you but can't you understand where I'm coming from? I tried Eddie and I realized I need more time, why can't you give me time?" she argued, her tears turning hot and angry.

"I've given you time, way damn more time than I would have ever needed," Eddie sighed. "Once you feel ready, maybe we'll figure it out."

She covered her mouth as she let out a small cry. Her heart pounded as she took in his heartbroken state. "Are we breaking up?" She whimpered.

Eddie nodded as he tucked his lip into his mouth. He put his hands in his pockets as a way of comfort. "Yeah, baby. We are."

Y/N bit her lip to silence her cries as Eddie walked back into the bar. She wanted to run after him and beg for him to stay. But he was right, he deserved someone better.

She blinked back as many tears as she could and walked to the nearest bus station. She sat on the bus, alone and crying, her heart wishing nothing more than to be in Eddie's van with his hand on her thigh.

~~~

With the summer heat, Y/N felt more miserable. She felt suffocated in her room, with too many memories of Eddie. And she couldn't escape outside without a sunburn.

It's been a long month of nothing from Eddie. Which made sense, he wasn't chasing her. She was chasing him. She was the one who had to make the move. She knew the longer she took to figure it out the faster he would run.

As she stared at her ceiling fan, she wondered if any of it was worth it. She's never felt this much pain in her life, and she was the cause of all of it. She had the power to fix it and she was wasting time.

She was getting sick of herself. Hating herself for what she did and continued to do. She missed him, and might even love him.

Eddie tried to seem like the world didn't crash on him. Tried to smile and act like he wasn't falling apart on the inside. But in reality, Eddie couldn't stand being alone. Her scent followed him everywhere and he missed the feeling of her. He missed her hands, her kiss, her body, everything. But he couldn't go back, she needed to come to him. He hoped that she realized her mistake, that this week of silence was her finding out how to come back.

The show ended and Eddie could hear his thoughts again. Not wanting to, he headed to the bar. He sat down on the stool with a heavy sigh and ordered a beer.

"Still pouting about her?"

Eddie turned as a girl's voice talked into his ear. He rolled his eyes as he looked back at his beer.

"Leave me alone,," Eddie sighed. He definitely wasn't in the mood. But she didn't listen. Instead, she dragged the barstool out and took a seat next to him.

"You're too good for her, anyway. She should have been delighted to have you on her arm," the random girl said.

Eddie eyed her weirdly, having no idea how the news of his ex-secret girlfriend began spreading. But he shook it off and went back to his beer. She talked his ear off for around an hour. Eddie was on his fifth beer as he tried to zone out the noise.

Y/N walked into the bar, feeling uneasy as the last time she was here went horribly. She scanned the crowd, her eyes easily finding him, but he wasn't alone.

A girl was seated beside him, way too close for Y/N's comfort. She was perched up, talking in his ear. Y/N's plan was to have a conversation but the jealousy overpowered everything. She was glad to see that Eddie wasn't entertaining the girl.

Eddie felt his body being spun around on his stool in a flash. Sudden arms wrapped around his neck and soft lips on his. He was surprised to see the lips belonged to Y/N. He instantly kissed back, enjoying the force of her lips against his.

She held on to him as if he was going to disappear. Her heart raced when his arms circled around her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her body to stand between them. She moaned as his tongue slipped inside her mouth, making her warm all over.

They pulled away, and Eddie couldn't wipe the smile off of his face.

"What was that?" He asked, he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or her that made his head feel dizzy.

"I'm ready. And I'm sorry for not being ready when you needed me to be. But I can't imagine my life without you. I love you and I want us to be together, no shame or secrets." Y/N said, she turned her head and saw the girl had vanished. She looked back at him, their bodies tangled.

"I love you too, baby," his lips smashed on hers. Knocking the air out of her lungs, but she liked the way it burned.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[punkshort]

Roommates | 7. jack and jill

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel organize Tommy and Maria's bachelor and bachelorette party together, making it the first time you've spoken to each other since you moved out.

Chapter Warnings: language, discussions revolving mental health and therapy, insecurity issues, anxiety, angst, alcohol and food consumption, idiots in love but won't admit it, cigarette use, one bed couch trope

WC: 6.8K

Series Masterlist

Five Months Later

Everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine. There was no need to be nervous.

Okay, so you were going back to the house for the very first time since you moved out. You didn't count the time last month when you idled in the driveway in your car, waiting to pick Maria up to go to her dress fitting. You avoided it as much as you could, but eventually she asked you to come over to help with wedding planning. She wanted to look over the seating chart and because it was so big and she insisted on making a physical floor plan instead of a digital one, she guilted you into coming to the house.

You didn't have the nerve to ask if Joel would be there, but when you pulled up to the house, your stomach doing cartwheels and threatening to bring up your breakfast, Joel's truck was gone.

Relief and disappointment flooded you all at once.

When you approached the front door, your hand hovered over the doorknob. Should you knock? Do you just walk in? You stood there a minute too long, going back and forth, undecided, until the door swung open with Maria standing on the other side.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know."

She rolled her eyes and opened the door wider. "Don't be weird," she told you as you slid past her into the familiar hall to kick off your sneakers.

Although the house was generally the same, it felt different now.

"Is anyone home?" you asked timidly as you followed her into the kitchen to grab some drinks.

"Tommy's got work," she replied, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge. You took a deep breath and inwardly groaned. She was really going to make you work for it.

"And... Joel?"

She stopped and looked at you like you were speaking another language. "Have you still not spoken to him?"

You chewed on your lower lip and her shoulders sagged.

"C'mon, you promised us you would work things out before you left."

"We will! I've just been... busy, I guess."

"It's been months. You need to talk to him," she scolded, brushing past you as she headed to the dining room table where her seating chart was all spread out. "We're getting close to the big day and you guys need to plan our Jack and Jill."

You cocked an eyebrow at her and took the glass she extended your way. "Jack and Jill?"

"Yeah, y'know, where the bachelor and bachelorette parties join into one big party?" You must have looked confused because she frowned and popped her hand on her hip. "I mentioned this three months ago."

"I know, I know, I just forgot."

"You need to get your shit together. You're my maid of honor! I need you."

"I will, I promise," you said firmly, taking a sip of wine. "I'll text him tomorrow and I'll set something up so we can start planning."

She eyed you up for a moment before dropping into a chair with a sigh. "Thanks. Sorry, I know this is tough but you guys gotta work things out. You're both too important to us."

"We will. Don't even give it another thought." You sat down across from her and glanced around while she opened up a notebook with her guest list. "So, where is he?"

"Well, if you would have called him in the past five months, you would know he moved out."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "When?"

"Like, two months ago, I think."

"Good. That's... good. Good for him."

"He bought a house."

You nearly choked on your wine. "He did?"

She nodded and bit back a grin. "A lot of things have changed. You'd be surprised."

"What's that mean?" you asked with a frown. She just shrugged.

"You'll have to talk to him and find out."

You tossed a piece of popcorn across the table at her and she giggled. "Enough about Joel. Let's get down to business. Like where am I going to put my Aunt Cathie when she refuses to speak to anyone on my side of the family?"

You tapped your chin and looked down at the poster. "Kitchen?"

In hindsight, picking a coffee shop was a bad idea. You were nervous enough as it was, the last thing you needed was extra caffeine. But still you found yourself sitting at a small table by the window twenty minutes before you were supposed to meet Joel, tapping your foot anxiously on the tile floor and turning around every time one of the doors opened.

To kill time, you stared down at your texts from earlier in the week, rereading them over and over, trying to pick up on his energy so you could get an idea of what you were walking into.

Hey

Then, two painful hours later:

Hey

I was hoping we could meet up sometime soon if you're free? Maria not so subtly pointed out we need to plan their Jack and Jill party.

You remembered at the time, the little text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over, as if he were changing his mind until he finally sent:

Sure. Thursday?

Thursday works. Java Joint on third?

I can swing by after work around 4

Okay - looking forward to it :)

Then... nothing.

Maybe the smiley face was overkill.

You drained the last of your iced latte and got up to throw it in the trash. When you sat back down at your table, a flurry of activity caught your attention through the window. Three girls were bouncing on their heels and giggling into their palms, grabbing each other's shoulders with their phones in their hands as they spoke to none other than Joel fucking Miller. He had his sunglasses on and a white Henley shirt, the material stretching across his broad chest and arms. Paired with the confident smirk on his face, he looked devastatingly good. You watched with a twist of envy in your chest as the girls all took selfies with his arm wrapped around their shoulders before he finally jutted his thumb towards the coffee shop and gave them a final wave, turning on his heel and then heading in your direction. Once his back was turned, the girls collectively lost their shit while looking down at their pictures, but you couldn't pay them any more attention because Joel was about to walk through the door.

Butterflies burst in your stomach when he pushed his sunglasses on top of his head, locking eyes with you, and suddenly it felt like no time had passed at all. Memories of watching movies with your feet tucked under his thigh and making dinners together flashed before your eyes while you forced yourself to give him a shy wave.

He simply nodded in return and motioned towards the counter, indicating he was getting something to drink, and when his gaze finally left yours in favor of reading the menu, you let yourself fully take him in. He looked really fucking good. Something was different but you couldn't put your finger on it. Healthier, maybe? Or maybe he just looked happier now without all the stress you brought into his life.

He must have said something flirty to the barista because she giggled and the tips of her ears turned red and, after he paid, he sauntered down the counter, casually resting his elbow on the hard surface while scrolling his phone.

From the look of it, he was no where near as nervous as you felt, which just made your anxiety spike more.

The barista slid his coffee across the counter with a wide smile and he gave her a wink before turning to weave his way through the tables. You straightened up as he approached and tried to look normal.

"Hi."

He sat down across from you, putting his coffee down with a grunt. "Hey."

Your heart was practically wedged in your throat and your fingers wouldn't stop tapping nervously on the table.

"H-how are things?"

He shrugged and took a sip from his cup. "Alright. Busy."

He was looking everywhere but your eyes. You supposed you deserved that, but it still stung.

"How's work?"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We don't gotta do this, y'know."

"Do what?"

"This," he said, waving his finger back and forth between you. "We can be civil for the sake of Tommy and Maria but we don't gotta pretend this is somethin' it ain't."

You tried to hide the hurt from your eyes but he must have clocked it because he pinched the bridge of his nose and made a frustrated sound.

"Don't gimme that look."

"I'm not," you replied defiantly, staring down at your fingers now. "I'm sorry, Joel. For all of it."

"You made that pretty damn clear when you left."

Your eyes snapped up to him as he took another sip from his coffee and looked around the café. Then your gaze fell onto the writing on his cup: a name with a phone number and a little heart and your stomach rolled but you took a deep breath, just like you practiced, and let it go.

"I didn't leave because I regretted it," you whispered. His eyes finally landed on you, patiently waiting for you to speak again. "I left because I couldn't stay away from you."

His eyes softened but he remained quiet, so you took a shaky breath in and continued.

"I needed time to think over what I did and why I did it and what I really want," you nervously began to shred your straw wrapper as you spoke. "And I couldn't do that with you so goddamn close because there's just something about you that drives me fucking crazy."

His lips twitched. "Crazy in what way?"

You sighed and slumped down in your chair. "Crazy as in every time I see you I want to kiss you and laugh with you and tell you about my day and just... be near you."

"Then why the hell didn't you wanna try 'n make it work?"

"Because of your job," you groaned pathetically, knowing full well you sounded like a broken record. "It's not your fault, Joel, it's mine. I have... issues. But I'm working on it. I've started seeing a therapist-"

"What issues?" he pressed.

"Jealousy, insecurity, self-doubt, anxiety... you name it."

He took a deep breath and readjusted in his chair so he was facing you instead of the café. "I didn't know you were goin' through all that. Is it helpin'?" he asked softly, and for the first time you thought you heard the Joel you used to know.

"Yeah, but it's hard," you replied. "It takes a lot of work to change the way you think and react to something. But I'm trying. Really, I am. Because-" you took a deep breath and raked your fingers through your hair. "No one makes me happy the way you made me happy. And I really, really fucking miss you." Tears welled up in your eyes that you quickly blinked away. Crying in the middle of a coffee shop was not on your list of things to do that day.

"What are you tryin' to tell me?" he asked, dropping his head so he could catch your eye. "Hm? Say it."

"I know I blew my chance with you and I don't deserve another one, but can we please try to be friends again?"

His gaze bounced back and forth between your eyes, studying your expression before slowly straightening up in his seat. "Friends?"

You nodded weakly, your lips pressed into a thin line.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered it.

"What'll that look like?"

You frowned and gave him a little shrug. "Joke around. Inquire about each other's lives. Help each other out. Be supportive of one another."

He nodded along as you listed everything off with a confused look on your face, unclear as to why he was asking you to define friendship. "That's it?"

"What do you mean?"

"That's all you want?"

And there it was again: that undeniable pull, that undercurrent of tension bonding you together, making you question every word and every look.

"Yes," you finally answered quietly. It was a lie, of course, but you were too scared to put yourself fully out there. You already felt vulnerable enough with what you confessed and you couldn't stand the rejection if you told him the truth.

He ticked his jaw to the side and you could have sworn in that moment, he saw right through you. But maybe you were wrong, because his next words were -

"Alright, then. Let's be friends."

Your eyes lit up as he pulled out his phone and opened his calendar app.

"Thank you, Joel."

He nodded without looking up. "What weekend were you thinkin' for this party?"

"So you two kissed and made up?"

You scowled at Maria over the aisle at a local florist.

"We did not kiss, thank you."

She grinned and rolled her eyes before picking up a deep pink carnation. "It's a figure of speech, but you never know."

"Things are fine. I mean, they aren't like they were before, I doubt it ever will be, but you have nothing to worry about. We can be in the same room together without anything getting weird. I don't like that one," you added when she picked up a red poppy. She plunked it back down in the bucket and kept browsing.

"Good. And how's the party planning?"

"Really good, we're almost all done. I just need to pick up the shirts and the favors and we should be good to go."

"I can't thank you enough for organizing this for us, I'm so excited! It's gonna be the best weekend ever," she gushed, picking up a few other flowers in similar shades of pink.

"Well, hopefully your actual wedding will be a better weekend, but I appreciate the sentiment," you giggled.

"How are we doing ladies? Do you have any questions?" asked the florist, an older man who was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Maria launched into a laundry list of questions and you grinned before leaning against the register and pulling out your phone. You had to actively stop yourself from opening up your text chain with Joel. In the past, aside from Maria, he was your person. He was the one you always texted silly things to whenever you were bored or lonely. Even though he agreed to be friends again, it had yet to feel the same. In fact, you still hadn't seen him since that day in the coffee shop. You had managed to do all the planning for the Jack and Jill over the phone, but you didn't want to tell Maria that. Something told you she would want you to try harder with him and you were too nervous to stick your neck out there. The shame you harbored for the way everything fell apart after the camping trip was too great.

"You wanna grab lunch?" she asked once she was done going over in excruciating detail the flowers she wanted in each bouquet and centerpiece.

"God, yes."

There was a nearby Mexican place you both loved so you ordered a couple margaritas while you waited for your food.

"Can I ask you a question that I've been dying to know the answer to but wanted to get you loosened up on booze first?"

You quirked an eyebrow at Maria and nodded hesitantly.

"Have you talked to Sam?"

You closed your eyes and groaned.

"Very briefly, only once. About a month after... you know."

She sipped her drink and nodded. "And?"

"It went about as well as you could expect. I tried to apologize but he was so hurt, I think I just made things worse."

"Thank god he got that new job. The timing couldn't have been better," she said, then winced when she saw the look in your face. "I'm sorry, I just meant at least you didn't have to worry about work being a factor. You had enough going on as it was."

"I know what you meant, it's okay," you assured her.

Maria stirred her drink with her straw for a moment, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence while you listened to Latin music over the speakers and blankly watched some soccer match that was muted on the TV over the bar.

"Can I ask you another messy question?" she finally asked. You grinned and shrugged.

"Go for it."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and dropped your gaze to the table. "What was I gonna say? 'Oh, by the way, I'm fucking your boyfriend's brother behind my boyfriend's back?' You would have slapped me."

She laughed and leaned back in her seat to make room for the sizzling fajitas that got placed down in front of you both. She eagerly picked one up and began to pour salsa and sour cream on top before she spoke again.

"I don't think I would have slapped you, but I definitely would have made you to dump Sam and get with Joel."

"Yeah, that's not something I would have wanted to hear," you told her with a laugh.

"So," she said, wiping some sour cream from the corner of her mouth, "you didn't wanna date him because of his job, but fucking him was okay?"

You paused your chewing and gave her a blank stare. "What happened didn't make a ton of sense, but I can tell you this much: I was in deep denial over what was happening with Joel. I told myself it was just a friends with benefits thing and it didn't mean anything, but there's just something about him that I can't describe. Like we have some connection that's impossible to ignore, or something? Even the annoying things about him make me smile. I know I sound crazy, I'll shut up," you said when you noticed the incredulous look on Maria's face.

"Girl, you love him."

You balked and nearly choked on your taco. "No."

"Yes."

You shook your head and took a big sip from your margarita. "I care about him deeply but I'm not in love with him."

Maria widened her eyes in disbelief and looked back down at her food. "Okay... just sounds to me like something more."

You quickly changed the subject to her wedding dress, which easily distracted her while you let what she said about Joel marinate. Were you in love with Joel? Is that why you couldn't let Sam in? Were you that blind?

In the end, you decided to let it go. It didn't matter, anyway. What you had with Joel was over, and after the way things ended, you couldn't imagine a situation where he would ever want to give you another chance, assuming you could get past all your insecurities surrounding his profession. Therapy was helping, but you had a long way to go, and ultimately you were seeking help to better yourself overall, not to make things work with Joel.

Maria had told you Joel bought a house but for some reason, you imagined it was a small ranch house somewhere, not a gorgeous two-story relatively new build. Or so, it looked new as you walked up the driveway and stared at the new black roof and white siding. You could feel your heart beginning to beat faster the closer you got to his front porch, gripping the brown paper bag at your side with sweaty fingers.

Stop it, you're just leaving the shirts at his door, there's no need to be nervous.

You climbed the creaky wooden steps and looked at the two Adirondack chairs with a table in between and suddenly you felt a pit form in your stomach. Two?

Why hadn't it occurred to you before now that he could be seeing someone? What if he was bringing her as a date to the wedding?

Stop. It. Drop the bag and fucking go.

You nestled the paper bag behind one of the chairs and turned to leave when you heard the front door squeak open.

"What're you doin'?"

You closed your eyes and silently cursed to yourself before spinning around with a forced smile on your face, only to have it immediately slip with you saw Joel had greeted you completely shirtless with his hair a disheveled mess.

Shit.

"Hey, I'm, uh, just dropping off the shirts for the guys," you pointed to the paper bag, his eyes following your finger.

He opened the screen door, stepping out to pick it up and you had to look away. He was wearing basketball shorts and the material clung around his bulge just a little too well.

"Why didn't you just knock?"

"Um," you took a breath and met his gaze, refusing to let your eyes drop lower than his neck. "Didn't wanna bother you."

"It's no bother. You wanna come in?" he asked. You finally picked up on the gravelly sound to his voice once you were able to ignore his smooth, broad chest.

"Did you just wake up?"

He shrugged and gave you half a smirk while he held the door open.

"Worked late."

"Ah," you replied, gaze dropping to the porch while you rocked back and forth on your heels. Work.

"You comin' in or not? I'm lettin' flies in."

"Uh, sure," you finally decided, sneaking past him, purposely holding your breath so you wouldn't breathe in his intoxicating scent.

His front door opened into his living room, which was about how you expected it to look: a dark couch with a matching chair surrounding a glass coffee table in front of a big screen TV with green and blue plastic clamshell video game cases scattered on the floor.

"Want somethin' to drink?" he asked, brushing past you as he ambled into his kitchen. You followed, noting his house seemed to lack... something.

"Water's fine."

It was bare. That's what it was. It hit you when you were in the kitchen. He had all the essentials but there was no warmth, no decorations, no pictures.

"Did you just move in?" you asked, then thanked him when he handed you a bottle of water.

"'Bout three months ago."

"Oh," you replied before taking a slow sip of water, your eyes darting around the sparse kitchen. "It's nice," you finally said when you pulled the bottle from your lips.

At least you could be sure he wasn't living with a girl. His home practically screamed bachelor pad.

"Thanks. How's your ma?" he asked before picking up a half drank mug of coffee.

You leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed your arms. "She's good. She's already found a new boyfriend. And here I thought I was doing her a favor by moving in and keeping her company," you said with a soft laugh. "Now I feel like I'm in the way of her exciting social life."

Joel nodded and sat down at the kitchen table with a grunt, his legs spread wide as he leaned back into the chair.

"Been meanin' to apologize to you," he said, staring down at his coffee sitting on the table. "Shoulda been there to help you move out, or at least say bye. I'm real sorry 'bout that."

That took you by surprise.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," you said immediately with a shake of your head. "It would have been too painful, anyway."

Joel took a deep breath through his nose. "Yeah, reckon that's why I bailed that day."

Neither of you said anything for a moment, both of you thinking back to that week when everything fell apart.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Joel," you said quietly. He frowned and looked up.

"What you did to me?"

"Yeah. For pulling you into my mess and hurting you. It was never my intention, but I recognize it was my fault. I started it. I kissed you. I came to your room that day. It's all on me, okay?" You looked at him with raw pain in your eyes and he sighed.

"Darlin', if you didn't start it, I would've. It ain't all on you," he told you softly.

You nodded and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, so you dropped your gaze to the floor and pressed your lips into a thin line, trying to stifle your emotion, but Joel could see it.

"It was fun while it lasted though, huh?" he joked, then grinned when you laughed and swiped away a stray tear.

"Yeah," you sniffled with a smile.

Joel pursed his lips and looked back down at his mug, his middle finger gently tracing the lip of the ceramic when he asked, "you seein' anyone?"

You shook your head. "No. I think it's probably best I take some time to work on myself first."

The same question for him was on the tip of your tongue but you couldn't bring yourself to ask because if the answer was yes, you weren't sure you were ready to hear it.

"Well, anyway," he said with a slap to his thighs, "everythin' ready for tomorrow? Need me to do anythin'?"

You smiled and shook your head. "Just handle the guys and I'll handle the girls. I have all the money to pay the limo bus driver. Did you have enough for the booze?"

"Mhm, no problem there," Joel said after taking a sip from his now lukewarm coffee.

The goal was to bar crawl some local spots in downtown Austin and in between, party on the limo bus.

"Just make sure to have a good playlist ready so we can connect to the speakers on the bus," you told him as you headed for the front door.

"Y'leavin'?" he asked, getting up to follow you. You shrugged and slid your shoes back on.

"Yeah, unless there was something else?"

He scratched his beard while he struggled to come up with anything that might make you stay. It just felt too nice to have you around again and he didn't want it to end.

"No, nothin' else," he finally said. "See you tomorrow."

Back to the scene of the crime, you almost let slip, but fortunately common sense kicked in and said, "Tommy and Maria's, 8pm so you can help me pack up the bus before everyone arrives."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you jog down his porch steps, tossing one more wave over your shoulder before getting into your car. As he watched you drive away, he tried to stifle that familiar, desperate feeling he always felt whenever you left and forced himself to go back inside.

The party bus was already wild before it reached the end of the street. You just sat down after passing around Jell-O shots and making sure the snacks and waters you brought were readily available to the entire bus when Maria shoved a solo cup in your hand.

"What's this?" you asked over the roar coming from the speakers blaring AC/DC and the guys screaming along to the lyrics after they all did a toast to Tommy, throwing back shots of tequila.

"Jungle juice!" she replied with a grin. You took a sip and raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Not bad!"

The lights on the bus dimmed and you looked up to find Joel playing around with the knobs at the front of the bus. Suddenly, brightly colored lights that lined the floor and roof of the bus turned on, painting everyone in a red glow that faded to orange then to all the colors of the rainbow.

"Come on, Tommy! Show us what you got!" one of Maria's bridesmaids yelled when Tommy stood up and leaned on the stripper pole in the middle of the floor for support when the bus took a turn.

"I ain't drunk enough yet, ladies!" he replied with a lopsided grin. Joel chuckled as he made his way back to his seat.

"What about you, Joel?" she asked, then all the groomsmen began whooping and pumping their fists, encouraging him, but he shook his head and sat down.

"Gotta pay me extra for that," he smirked. He brought his beer to his lips and glanced briefly in your direction before looking away.

The whole bus was wearing matching white shirts with Tommy and Maria's names printed on the back with the date of their wedding and a note at the bottom that, depending if you were a girl or a guy, said if found, please return me to the bride/groom.

On the front of the shirts was a big box where everyone could tally all the drinks and shots they had that evening with the sharpie necklaces you handed out as everyone boarded the bus. So far, most people had at least one drink or shot under their belts.

"Alright, who wants to play Tipsy Hoe?" you called out while holding up a stack of index cards. The bus cheered so you began to explain the rules. "We pick one card with a specific word on it that nobody's allowed to say. The person who says it first has to take a shot and then we pick another one."

Another of Maria's bridesmaids eagerly volunteered to pick the first card. You fanned them out as she carefully chose one from the middle and read it. "The word is Bride!" she announced, and half the bus collapsed into laughter.

"Take a shot, you can't say it! Just hold it up!" you giggled when she laughed and buried her face in her hands. "Okay, go again."

After taking a shot and drawing another tally mark on her shirt, she picked another card and this time, held it up for everyone to see: dress.

"What's that say? I can't read it?" Joel teased from the back, and she stuck out her tongue.

"Ha ha, not falling for it."

You sat back down and took a sip from your cup before leaning into Maria's side to take a few selfies only for them to come out completely blurry from the dim lighting, but you saved them anyway.

Joel brushed past the two of you to go to the front of the bus and direct the driver on where to drop the group off for the first bar, and as the bus slowed down, most people chugged the rest of their drinks and added a mark to their shirts before standing up and filing out the door.

"Jesus, Tommy, when'd you have four drinks?" Maria asked when she saw his shirt. He grinned and draped an arm around her shoulders.

"What can I say? The guys can be persuasive."

"Hey, don't you know that girl over there?" Joel asked when he suddenly appeared at your side with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He pointed over to a group of three girls standing right outside the bar with sparkly outfits on and heavy eyeshadow.

"Which one?"

"The one in the blue."

"The blue top or the blue dress?"

He smirked and shot you a wink before taking a deep drag of his cigarette. You groaned and slapped your palm to your face.

"I can't believe I fell for that."

He laughed, a plume of smoke rolling from his lips, then tossed the cigarette on the ground. "C'mon, I'll buy you the shot."

"It's the least you could do," you teased, following him inside past the bouncer. The bar was dark and really fucking loud as you weaved your way through the throngs of sweaty people until Joel managed to squeeze his way to the bar and flag down a bartender. While you waited for your drinks, you tried to locate the rest of the group, but the only people you saw were Maria and Tommy down at the other end of the bar with one other groomsman you didn't know very well.

"Bottoms up," Joel told you after handing you the shot and a mixed drink. You winced when you tossed it back, then handed him the empty glass. He pushed it back across the sticky bar along with his own empty shot glass then pointed to your shirt.

"Ah, right," you mumbled before uncapping the sharpie around your neck and scribbling a tick mark on the fabric. Joel stretched his own shirt out and you hesitated for just a second before drawing a quick mark on his shirt and tried not to focus too much on the sweat that had soaked through the collar already.

"You stayin' at Tommy and Maria's tonight?" he asked. He brought a bottle of beer to his lips and took a long sip but didn't take his eyes away from you.

"Yeah, I can't imagine driving home at this rate," you replied while motioning to your shirt with your free hand. He nodded and let his eyes drift around the room behind you, head nodding slightly to the beat of the music before he said, "Maybe we can watch a movie. Like old times."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "You're staying over, too?"

He nodded again and took another drink as your heart fluttered nervously in your chest. Maria conveniently failed to mention he was planning on staying the night, as well. Where the hell did she expect you both to sleep when there was only one couch?

You scanned the bar and found her laughing at something Tommy was saying, waving his hands around dramatically as he told some story. Narrowing your eyes, you hoped she could feel the heat from your stare, but of course she was oblivious.

Just as you were about to reply to him about the movie, you felt someone's arm snake around your waist right before their overpowering cologne made you gag.

"You wanna dance?" a voice slurred in your ear, and you immediately twisted away from his sour breath and turned to face him. He wasn't with your group, just some other patron, and he looked completely wasted. A thin sheen of sweat covered his neck and face and his eyes looked glassy as he stared down at you, waiting for an answer.

"Uh, no thank you! I was just leaving."

"Aw, come on, just one dance?" the stranger pushed with a lopsided grin but it just made him look even more sloppy.

"She's with me," Joel said defensively before tugging you closer and tucking you under his arm. You could smell his deodorant and soap and it instantly transported you back in time to the point where you had to fight the urge to bury your face against his chest and breathe deep.

"My bad," the guy said, raising his hands defensively before walking away.

"Thanks," you said so softly you weren't sure he could hear you over the music, but he did. He dropped his arm and cleared his throat as you tried to create a bit of space between you again without being awkward, but it was hard to do.

"I hope you don't feel like you can't dance with other guys 'cause I'm here," he said.

"No, I know, I'm just not looking for... that right now," you assured him before taking a long sip from your drink and glancing around the bar.

"Right, you mentioned that," he replied. The topic of your love life caused a heavy silence to settle between you even though you were surrounded by noise. Right when you were about to make an excuse and leave, he spoke again.

"How's all that goin', by the way? Therapy?"

"It's... going okay," you said. What was he getting at?

He tossed back the rest of his beer and slid the empty across the bar.

"Okay enough to start datin' again soon?"

You swallowed nervously. Was he asking for a specific reason?

The look on your face made him switch gears because he grinned and shrugged. "Friends ask 'bout each other, right?"

Oh.

"They do."

He nodded, his smile faltering a moment when his gaze slid to your lips before he forced himself to look away. "C'mon, let's find the rest of the party." Then he took your hand and led you through the crowd.

Stop it, get it together, he's just being nice, like you asked, you told yourself. But you really, really hoped you were wrong.

"Here's some extra pillows and blankets," Maria sang gleefully with a shit eating grin.

"I can't believe you," you seethed quietly so Joel wouldn't hear you from downstairs.

"What? I forgot Tommy told Joel he could stay over," she said with a tipsy shrug.

"I'm half tempted to call an Uber."

"Don't you fucking dare. Now be an adult and go sleep with your ex," she giggled, giving your shoulder a shove to make you move towards the direction of the stairs.

"Hilarious," you replied dryly, but before you took another step she pulled you into a hug.

"Thank you so much for tonight, we had such a," she hiccuped before pulling away, "great time."

You blew her a kiss before giving her the finger. "Love you."

"Love you, too!" she practically shouted, and you turned around halfway down the stairs to shush her. She slapped her hands over her mouth and giggled before stumbling into her bedroom and shutting the door.

"Wha' the hell was she shoutin' for?" Joel asked groggily from his spot splayed out on the couch, remote control hanging limply from his fingers as he blinked at the TV, trying to clear his vision.

"Nothing. Here," you said, tossing him a pillow and blanket. He reached out to catch them but missed, then started to giggle when he accidentally slid from the couch onto the floor to pick them up. You grinned and threw yours on the other end of the couch and wandered into the kitchen, returning with two bottles of ice cold water. "Drink this," you said with a yawn. He took it and you plopped down on the other end of the couch while Joel flicked through title after title on one of the many streaming services Tommy and Maria had.

While Joel continued to browse, you shifted uncomfortably before setting down your water and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. With practiced ease, you pulled it out from under your shirt without having to remove any clothes and tossed it on the floor. Joel's eyes widened when he saw it and looked at you.

"Don't get any ideas, I just can't sleep in a bra."

He smirked before picking a romcom and settling in under his blanket. "Next you gonna tell me you can't sleep with panties on?"

You snorted and felt your cheeks flush but thankfully the lights in the living room were off, leaving only the glow from the television to light the room.

"You wish."

The alcohol was making both of you way flirtier than you intended to be, so you shut up. You watched the movie hazily for a while, laughing softly at Hugh Grant's charismatic humor. It was quiet for so long that you had assumed Joel fell asleep until he suddenly spoke again.

"This's nice."

You rolled your head to the side and smiled at him. "Yeah, it is."

He smiled back, his eyes bright from the glow from the television, cheeks still a little pink from the booze as he looked you up and down. "C'mere."

You pinched your eyebrows together. "Why?" you asked slowly. He rolled his eyes and waved you over.

"Jus' get your ass over here."

With a sigh, you scooted over to his end of the couch and once you got close enough, he threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. You let out a quiet oof when the side of your face came in contact with his chest, but god the way he smelled had you reeling for the second time that night. Even with the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and spilled liquor, he still smelled amazing. He smelled like him. A comforting smell you missed so much in the past five months that it almost hurt to have it back again.

His hand gently stroked your back as you watched the movie. The steady thrum of his heart beating against your ear combined with the alcohol and his warmth made your eyelids droop and before you knew it, you were out like a light. When Joel realized you were asleep, he looked down at you and smiled before turning off the television and slowly rotating you both so you were laying (albeit, scrunched) together along the couch. His arm remained wrapped around you and your face was buried against his chest with one of your legs draped over one of his and everything finally felt right again.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[loomiseater]

Some Fun

warnings: smut ofc!, dub con, intercourse, and cum eating.

Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing.

Billy Loomis x fem!reader

Request page

Masterlist

Written: July 17th, 2024- August 4th, 2024

Published: August 4th, 2024

Summary: Billy wants to have some fun with you.

wc: 1,599

request: ok so it's the end of the movie and billy decided to fuck reader instead of killing reader.

“Oh, don’t think we’ve forgot about you, Y/n” Billy teasingly said as he pointed the knife at me. “Please- I didn’t do anything! Please Billy! I’m begging you, don’t kill me!” I pleaded to him on my knees. It was like he was secretly getting off to it.

Him and Stu were both a bunch of sick fucks. 

“Tell me…why should I not kill you?” He asked me. I don’t know? Maybe because I want to see my future?! I didn’t answer him but instead I looked around the kitchen and the doorways to see if Stu was around. He was no where in sight..so I ran for it.

I hurried up the stairs but Billy was hot on my trail. As he was running up the stairs after me I grabbed the glass vase and threw it at him to slow him down. And it did slow him down, I ran into Stu’s parents room and locked the door. As soon as I ran into the room I saw Sidney’s body. 

She was dead. My best friend was dead. Her throat had been slit along with stab wounds in her stomach, she didn’t deserve to go out like that. I fell down to the ground to hug her one last time. 

As I gave her a kiss to the forehead, I was met with Stu rushing out of the closet grabbing me from behind. He was laughing as I was kicking and screaming. “Let me go!” I shouted. “Now why would I do that?” He questioned with his head tilted. 

Before I answered him I broke down in tears. “I didn’t do anything to you two! Please! Just let me live, I won’t call the cops! I’ll keep it a secret!” I pleaded. “We both know that’s not true, sweetheart” Stu said as he gripped my jaw. “Ounch!” 

He pulled me out of his parents room and dragged me into his bedroom where Billy was waiting. He was sat on Stu’s bed smoking a cigarette but soon blew it out when I was thrown on the bed next to him. As I sat up, Billy traced my cheek with his blood covered hand and I was shaking in fear.

“You can leave now” Billy said to Stu, not even acknowledging him. It was now Just Billy and I in the room. The silence was so loud and so scary. Was he about to murder me next?

“You’re pretty, you know that?” It sounded as if it was a question but I didn’t answer. “I’ve always wanted you Y/n. Since the first time we met in 8th grade, but you never gave me a chance” he started off as he pushed some of my hair back. “But now..I’m gonna take that chance” Billy said before he grabbed the back of my head and kissed me.

I hesitated at first but eventually gave in. I eventually pulled away from the kiss, now feeling guilty. I’m kissing the man who murdered my friends. 

I tried to get up off the bed but Billy yanked me but down as I shrieked. “The hell do you think you’re going?” He asked with a glare. “This isn’t right Billy! You and Stu MURDERED our friends- I’m not doing anything with you” I explained before crossing my arms.

“The hell you are” He responded before grabbing my and pushing me roughly on the bed. “What I say goes” he sternly said as he pointed to himself. “You’re not the boss of me!” I snapped back.

He pushed my chest down with one hand so he could show his dominance. 

“Be quiet!” He lowly but sternly said as he was now face to face with me. 

Billy started pulling my skirt down along with my blood stained top. My face began to feel hot and tears started falling. The quiet room was now filled with my quiet sobs and Billy’s shushes.

“Hey, look at me. Don’t cry” He softly said as he gave me another kiss. He soon leaned down and started placing kisses on the exposed parts of my chest. As much as I don’t wanna admit it, his kisses were turning me on, my panties were beginning to feel soaked.

Billy unhooked my bra and tossed it to the floor. He grabbed my right boob and kissed it before he sucked my nipple. I tried to hold back but a moan slipped out. “Don’t hold back, baby” he replied as I closed my eyes shut.

As he was sucking my boobs, his hands roamed free on my body before they stopped at my entrance. His thumb began rubbing small circles over my clothed clit. “Billy- please!” I whined as I gripped his wrist. He let out a dark chuckle before he answered to my whines.

“Please what? Go faster?” He said with a sinister grin. He picked up the pace and my legs began to shake. “I knew you’d like this. Dirty whore” he stated before I squirted. It was all on my panties and on the palm of his hand.

“Beautiful” he whispered as he went in to kiss my inner thighs. He pulled my panties off and in my head I kept telling myself that I don’t want it but my body was craving it. 

Him, his touch, his dick…

Billy unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down along with his underwear. He pulled his dick out and I was amazed at the size. My eyes widened. He was at least 8 inches, the tip was red, the shaft was veiny, and he was leaking pre cum.

“Ya know? I was gonna stretch you out but im tired of waiting. And you haven’t been all that nice to me today” he arrogantly said, almost as if I was in the wrong. “Maybe because you murdered MY friends! Are you insane?” I shouted. I was furious at his statement. Does he not hear himself?!

He grabbed my throat tightly as he pushed himself inside. The stretch was intense yet pleasureful. He bottomed out in me as he leaned his back groaning. “Billy!” I moaned. 

He pulled back out and shoved himself back in beginning to thrust. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this exact moment” he expressed. Billy removed his hand from my throat and began to grip my hips. 

I started moaning loudly, there’s no point of bothering to hide the pleasure anymore. I’m already wet.  “Good girl” he grunted. His thrusts soon began to get rough and the sound of our skin clapping against each other filled the room.

His balls slapped abasing my clit and to be completely honest this is the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. I was filled with lust but also guilt. I was having sex with a murderer. Im just as bad as Billy and Stu.

“Mhhm you like that?” Billy moaned as he placed kissed along my neck. “Yes baby, feels- so good!” I replied as my eyes rolled back. He grabbed my legs and pushed them all the way back until they touched my ears.

His dick was digging deeper than it was before with this new angle. And I loved it. “Shit! I’m about to cum!” He moaned in my ear as whines left my throat. My legs were still pushed back as he began giving me powerful, slow thrusts. “Look at you creaming on my dick” he whispered.

“I love you’re dick so much!” I shouted as tears fell down my face. “I want this pretty pussy to cum on my dick, cmon baby, I know you can” He said in a husky voice. I don’t know but the voice just did it for me.

Suddenly the feeling in my stomach snapped and I came on his dick. “Ohh yesss” I screamed as my orgasm washed over me. Billy was still fucking me bust his thrusts got slow and sloppy, I knew he was coming to an end. 

He pulled out of me and came on my stomach. I looked down and the creamy substance and he swiped some of it with his fingers and shoved them in my mouth. I sucked the cum of his fingers as his rolled back and groans slipped from his mouth.

He eventually got up and began to put his clothes back on as I covered myself with the bed sheet. 

“Put you’re fucking clothes on you’re coming with us” he demanded. I didn’t want to anger him so I did as told without any back talk. I see how well that went for my friends…

As I was putting my shoes back on he walked over to me and stood in front of me. “Me and Stu are skipping town and you’re coming with us. We’re gonna go to the store, grab a couple of things, and leave” he stated.

I simply nodded my head and followed him out the room and downstairs to the front door. I was met with Randy’s dead body. He had been stabbed in his throat several times along with a bullet to the shoulder.

It took everything in me to hold my tears back. My friends were dead and I’m skipping town with their murderers..not like I had much of a choice though.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Stu appeared next to me. “Maybe Billy will let me have some fun with you” he said with a evil smirk on his face. “Not a chance, fuck rag!” Billy replied as he shoved Stu in the shoulder. ‘Ow!” Stu winced.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Need you to write more WLW 😫😫😫😫

It’s the only thing keeping me sane!!!!!

A/N: I wrote this based on a random ass scene I saw in The Boys and now...here lies this creation. (Female fitness trainer is nearing completion)

CW: blackmail, manipulation, toxic relationship type beat, controlling behavior, threats, cigarettes

Synopsis: you attempt to break up with your girlfriend-- she's too much. But she was going to keep you, one way or another.

You knew the rough crowd around town was... intense. But this chick was on another level. Kali liked to scare you; with how little you knew about her friends, leering on their motorcycles as she watched from behind a cigarette, your mind swam with scenarios of being abandoned on bloody asphalt behind a dumpster.

The music she blares in her shitty, one-eyed car and the smoke trail she left in bathrooms-- she liked being revered as nothing but trouble. You were doing your best to stay away from any kind of danger, focused on fixing the pieces of your tarnished education as your grades had not been kind to you. But Kali got to you first, ripping away any thoughts of work and reparations to your tuition debt.

So, despite the foggy kisses, lipstick stains on your jaw, and unexpected clinginess she showed to the idea of moving you in with her, you're making an attempt to break up with her.

"You... want to ditch me?"

"What? No! I'm just, I'm extremely worried about this next semester." You put a hand on her square-cut, polished fingers. "If I fail even one class again, my scholarships will drop me. I'm already on probation with the university."

You hope she can see how worried you are in your eyes, squeezing her hand to ease the news. She was going rigid, stiff as a tree with the strength of a waiting titan.

"School, huh."

Kali watched you beneath wispy bangs, looking straight through you. As if you weren't there, heart-pounding and palm-sweating in front of her.

You were glad she balled her hands in fists before you grabbed them, having one too many instances of your fingers crushed in her grip.

"B-but... we can still see each other.. maybe, sometimes on the weekends. I just can't afford any distractions, I've already spent a fortune getting to where I am."

"Is this because I want you to move in with me?" She blurted, straight faced and tight lipped.

Dark, midnight eyes bore into you for the truth.

Her ears perked at the sound of your jaggy sigh, knowing this would come up. "... No, but I have to say that it is still pretty early in, well, "us", to be considering... that."

"Really?" She asked earnestly, cold fingers finding their way around your forearm. "Because I still feel pretty confident about the idea, baby."

You hated how she could call you "baby" so easily, how every "sweetheart" was patronizing or forceful, or could be the most saccharine thing you heard when you first woke up.

her boot tips pressed against the side of your shoes, trapping you in like a snake wrapped around a rat. One hand held yours in a death grip, the other raking shivery nails against your knee from under the coffee table.

"I've got a perfect place for your stuff, work's only ten minutes away; why would there be any little reason to stay at your dusty old apartment?"

"I, I don't think you're hearing me--"

"No, no baby, I think you forgot who's choice this was to make." Your skin was a deep color under her fingers, her strength far outmatched as your clammy, fragile hand was brought to her cheek. She tutted under her breath, tsk'ing in condescention. "What would you do without me? How are you going to survive alone, no car to get to your classes, or the grocery store, unprotected around your peers... I can't imagine it, especially since your landlord never got his money to re-lease your apartment next month..."

From under the table her swift fingers brought a bulging envelope to the table, previously stuffed in your landlord's mailbox.

It wasn't even opened, the cash and tenant forms sealed without a mark.

Your jaw went slack, coffee cup cold in your hands.

"How did you--"

"Try it again, and I'll find it. You'll keep losing money, keep draining chances to come to me lovingly."

Kali sweetly tiptoed her black nails up to your shirt collar, sending shivers down your neck with each gentle, uncharacteristically slow touch.

Without warning, the woman snatched your shirt in her fist and jerked you forward, pulling you tightly against the coffee table. The seething anger she bore hardly made a sound, leaving the fellow cafe attendants nearby unbothered.

Your wince left her apathetic, bear-like eyes relishing in how unnerved and frantic you were becoming.

"I so rarely give out second chances. You, my love, are very lucky to be the exception. Don't make me regret it," your girlfriend was only inches apart, painted lips plump and teasing only breaths away. "I don't like to play dirty, but I will if you run from me. Is that clear, baby?"

You swallowed thickly, letting your gaze run away from hers as she bore into you with intense malice.

"Say yes," She whispered, on edge of twisting your wrist. "So I don't have to show everyone in here who you belong to."

Your cheeks lit up, terrified of the baristas and groups of students who'd look your way if she carried out that threat. Kali was unpredictable, something you found so endearing when you first met. She was always moving, doing something you couldn't expect. Now, it was scaring you.

You nod your head, regretting the idea of trying to break up with her in public. She wasn't afraid to make a scene, unlike you.

"Of course, Kals. There won't... be any need for that."

You hoped the sweetly familiar nickname with a hint of an anxious smile would make you sound casual, as if you weren't sweating behind your jacket and avoiding her blinkless stare like the plague.

"That's right." She whispered, letting go of your collar to pull at your jaw, this time only with the intent of dragging you closer. She was always so rough with her grip, capable or causing pain with its force, or merely leaving you breathless.

The punk's hand from beneath the table took mercy on your thigh with its painful rakes, moving instead to your cheek. Cold rings nicked your skin, her knuckles brushing against your face in a gentle, longing caress. You were hunched over the table now, uncomfortably risen as she sat like a queen in her cushioned chair, your face in her hands and your breath stolen by her.

Her pierced tongue came to graze the inside of your mouth, all-consuming and grinning through her teeth.

She tasted of stale cigarettes and mint gum, her current oral fixation besides the longterm smoking vice she's had since middle school.

You reluctantly kissed back, feeling wrongness in your gut. This isn't how it was supposed to go, you weren't supposed to be sharing hot breaths or hearing her satisfactory groans for capturing you once again. You were supposed to be leaving teary eyed and frightened of what she'd do now that you were no longer on her good side. But this, was far worse. You were walking on ice that was already breaking, the freezing water below beginning to flood the only surface of land you had left.

Kali pulled away, not without a few last kisses to the corner of your mouth and cheek, leaving wet lipstick stains. Your lips were probably about as red as hers were now. Dark lashes heightened by her thick mascara clouded your view, your girlfriend looking up at you through them with a gentle hardness.

She wasn't so scary when you were falling to her whims, like putty in her fingers and teeth.

"Kal..." you mumble, upsettingly conflicted between your failure to carry out what you came for, and your fear of what her threats would do. Her history of breaking into your bedroom window and making herself at home wherever she tracked you left you without a doubt of her potential. It made you all the more anxious of what she would be like if you didn't follow through with what she wanted.

"My friend is out of town for the weekend, said I could use his condo by the beach... a getaway, just for us baby." Her cold thumb smoothed over your bruised lips, an inkling of a smile coming to curl her mouth upward. "You'll be there, tonight. Dressed in that cute little number you wore on our first date. Is that right?"

It wasn't a question, it was a challenge. 'Are you going to let go of this once in a lifetime second chance I'm giving you? ' is what she was asking.

You didn't want to say yes. You didn't want to show up, to spend another agonizing second with her knowing that your failing at everything you hold dear. But her hold on your face brings you to fall back into your comfort zone.

"Yeah, Kals. I'll... I'll be there. But--"

She laid a firm hand on your shoulder,  leaning against your ear with wrathful delight.

"Promise you won't bail on me, sweetheart. I don't wanna come looking for you," She let go of your sweet lips to play with a strand of your hair, curling it around her finger. "I really don't enjoy forcing you to obey.."

That was such a lie. She loved it, relished in your mild disobedience at times. But this was a different level of rebellion, one she detested.

You swallowed your protest, frustration bubbling in your stomach in distress and fear.

"I promise, Kal."

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

I wanna dance with somebody

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22

Prompt: Sports

Rated: T

CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner

Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington

Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!

Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!

It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.

“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 

“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 

She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 

Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 

Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 

There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 

The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 

“You coming?” 

She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 

“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 

She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 

*

The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 

“Oh hey, can I help you?” 

Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 

“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 

Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 

“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”

He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 

“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 

Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.” 

“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?” 

Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 

Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 

“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 

“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 

“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 

Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 

Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 

“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 

Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 

Legs. 

And an ass. 

Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 

Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 

Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 

It’s Good Housekeeping. 

Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 

Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 

He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles