#and got to see the sun rising out my windows!

[magicshopaholic]

Interlude: Hyung Line

Or

The one where the three oldest members of the group find themselves in deep shit

Summary: Namjoon returns to see everyone in a crisis. Seokjin has a conversation with his girlfriend, while Hoseok wonders if he's going to lose his best friend. Meanwhile, Yoongi ruminates on an impulsive decision.

Pairing: OT3 x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Humour, fluff, angst

Word count: 11.2 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language

A/N: It's been forever since I posted and I bring you... *an aftermath fic*!! Takes place the morning after A Stormy Night.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @faearchives @margopinkerton @purpleseoul7 @confessionsofamarshlily @jiminjhang @xjoonchildx @tarahardcore @infinitehobi @handfullofcandids @whoisbts @jihopesjoint @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: "dope lovers" by dpr ian

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

When Hoseok wakes up the next morning, it’s to slivers of sunlight through a soft mesh sort of thing on his face. He blinks and shifts slightly; it’s Chaeyoung’s hair, where his face was buried, and he squints towards the window where an apologetic looking sun has reared its head in the sky after a night of torrential rain.

He relaxes slightly; next to him, Chaeyoung hasn’t moved, her shoulders rising and falling peacefully with every breath she takes. His phone buzzes and he turns to reach for it.

Taehyung [08:45] Anyone need a ride to HQ? I’m leaving in a bit Although no one apart from Jungkookie seems to be in the dorm right now

Namjoon [08:48] I’ll reach on my own. I just got off a flight so I came to my apartment to take a shower.

Seokjin [09:00] I’ll reach on my own too.

Taehyung [09:01] Okay. Where were you last night?

Seokjin [09:01] Never you mind. I have my car.

Yoongi [09:02] Me too.

Hoseok stares at the screen, slowly licking his lips.

Hoseok [09:03] Me too.

Taehyung [09:04] This is not suspicious at all.

Jimin [09:04] I’m at my place with Sooah :D:D:D I’ll be there soon - but everybody don’t forget to be at the restaurant for her birthday lunch! No latecomers!

Taehyung [09:05] I take it your night turned out well after all?

Jimin [09:05] Yessss it did, god bless. I have the best girlfriend in the world - but I’ll tell you about it later. I mean it though - don’t be late for the lunch. Hobi hyung - you can bring Chaeyoung.

Hoseok stomach jolts.

Hoseok [09:06] That’s super random. She’s totally capable of coming on her own, you know? She’s not a kid anymore and I’m not responsible for her anyway.

Jimin [09:08] Errrr I meant because the roads are still a bit flooded so she may not want to walk to the bus stop. But I guess she can come on her own too.

Jungkook [09:09] I can pick her up on my way to the restaurant if you want, hyung. 

Taehyung [09:09] You’re alive??? I knocked on your door at least twice last night but I heard nothing. I thought you died in there or something.

Jungkook [09:10] Oh yeah. I was really tired.

Taehyung [09:10] Lol, I’m sure.

Jungkook [09:10] @Namjoon How was your trip hyung?

Namjoon [09:11] Amazing Didn’t want to come back tbh

Jimin [09:11] That feels great to hear But I have a girlfriend now so I get it

Jungkook [09:12] Gross

Jimin [09:12] Don’t be bitter just because you’re single

Yoongi [09:13] Yeah go get laid instead

Taehyung [09:13] I still don’t know where half of you are though. How was everyone out last night despite that horrendous storm?

Namjoon [09:14] Yoongi hyung corrupting the children since 2013

Yoongi [09:14] Me? I think Hobi is doing enough of that for all of us

Hoseok [19:15] What!  Of course not.  Why even would you say that?  What are you talking about

Yoongi [09:16] Sorry, I meant Seokjin

Seokjin [09:16] Errrrrrrr

Taehyung [09:16] I mean, is it me? Am I the lame one for having stayed home last night?

Yoongi [09:17] You were on your way to HQ last night, weren’t you?

Taehyung [09:17] No?

Yoongi [09:17] Not you

Namjoon [09:18] Did I leave my charger at the dorm?

Taehyung [09:18] No idea Speaking of which, you owe me a lock for my door

Namjoon [09:19] Excuse me?

Jungkook [09:19] Taehyung

Yoongi [09:20] Yeah and you need to return my aux cable. It’s still in your car. I couldn’t charge my phone last night and had to fight Miso to borrow hers

Hoseok [09:20] Wait you were with Miso last night?

Seokjin [09:21] @Namjoon I called you to check about the company HQ sleeping quarters too but you didn’t answer

Jimin [09:21] Oh yeah, Namjoon hyung - you weren’t here to give me a pep talk when my night for Sooah was going up in flames either. I had to call Taehyungie and Jungkook instead and they were no help at all!

Jungkook [09:22] Hey!

Taehyung [09:22] Hey!

Namjoon [09:22] One ridiculous problem at a time, please!

Hoseok frowns, already losing interest. He navigates away from the chat and scrolls through his messages, answering some and ignoring others, his eyes now somewhat getting used to the light of the screen. Just as he’s about to close the app, another message pops up.

Chanyeol [09:15] Up?

Hoseok [09:15] Just about

Chanyeol [09:16] Kk. Listen, are you going home anytime soon?

Hoseok [09:17] To Gwangju? Not part of the plan right now, no. Maybe Christmas? Why?

Chanyeol [09:17] We were planning when to go next. Hayoung’s parents are probably travelling end of the year so we’re trying to plan a trip when everyone we want to meet will be there at the same time.

Hoseok [09:18] And I’m part of that list? Chan, you honour me

Chanyeol [09:18] You’d think you wouldn’t be after 20 years of being friends but hey

Hoseok [09:18] You know Seoul is like a train ride away right? Why do you want to wait to hang out in Gwangju?

Chanyeol [09:19] Home and stuff

Hoseok [09:19] Hella senti, I have to say

Chanyeol [09:19] There’s the added bonus of Hayoung and I having to stay with our respective parents when we go home though

Hoseok [09:20] That’s what I’m saying! Come to Seoul

Chanyeol [09:21] I will… I just have to do a Gwangju trip soon. Hopefully when you’re there too

Hoseok [09:21] Why?

Chanyeol [09:22] Okay don’t say a word to ANYONE But I kinda want to ask Hayoung to move in

Chanyeol [09:23] Hoseok?

Chanyeol [09:24] Dude you’re freaking me out. Is that a terrible idea?

Hoseok [09:25] Nope Just recovering from MY MIND BEING BLOWN My boy’s growing up!!!

Chanyeol [09:25] Jesus You scared the shit out of me for a couple minutes there

Hoseok [09:26] I’m gonna dance my ass off at your wedding

Chanyeol [09:26] Whoaaa. Slow down there pop star

Chanyeol [09:27] Anyway, that’s why I want to go back. I want to do this thing where she’s at her parents’ house and I’m at mine and then I bring up all these rules that we used to have at home when we were kids and then just casually wonder what it would be like if we could make our own rules - in our own home.

Hoseok [09:28] Adorable Just adorable Still waiting for how my Gwangju plans fit into this though

Chanyeol [09:29] Are you kidding? I need you there for moral support!

Hoseok [09:29] So, like… hiding outside in the bushes while you’re talking to Hayoung?

Chanyeol [09:30] No, that would be creepy. But this might be the second most important question I ever ask in my life so I need you there. In town. In the vicinity. So I can plan and maybe make some kind of a grand gesture? Unless it’s stupid

Hoseok [09:30] No! Of course I’ll be there. Just let me know when

Chanyeol [09:31] I will. In any case, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to go back until at least January so that gives me some time to prep.

Chanyeol [09:32] Thanks though. You’re a good friend. The best actually.

Hoseok stares at the screen, the smile on his face fading. The faint flowery perfume and the scent of skin on skin suddenly seems stronger. Something shifts next to him and he turns on his back with dread, faced with the sleeping form of his best friend’s half-naked younger sister.

—

“Everything okay?”

Seokjin looks up, instinctively locking his phone as Nari walks into the living room, stopping just shy of the edge of the carpet.

“Yeah. Just… the usual.” He shrugs, placing his phone next to him. He bites his lip, suddenly at a loss for words. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mhm.” She nods, running her fingers through the top of her hair and letting it fall down one shoulder. “You? Was the sofa comfortable?”

“Oh. Yeah, totally.” He tries to suppress the urge to stretch his back. “How about you? Oh -“ He clears his throat when she frowns slightly. “Right. We just did you.”

Nari nods again, this time slower. “Listen, Seokjin, about last night -“

“Nari, about what happened -“

They pause at the same time and Seokjin feels his ears turn red, the same time as she chuckles awkwardly and looks away.

“You go,” offers Seokjin, regretting it almost immediately.

“No, no, please, you can go first.”

“No, I insist -“

Nari stares for a few seconds, looking hesitant. “I just wanted to say… don’t worry about it. We can just forget it.”

Seokjin processes this, his pulse slightly uneven. “Okay,” he says lightly. “Thanks for, uh… letting me sleep over.”

“I think I kind of forced you,” she reminds him. “I couldn’t quite have your hypothermia on my hands. They’d take away my medical license if I let you go back out in that rain. Oh, and take your time returning the clothes,” she adds suddenly. “Although I think that sweatshirt is yours, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Um -“ He looks down at the faded blue sweatshirt and grey joggers she’d lent him last night. “Oh, yeah. I stopped looking for this, like, three years ago. I thought I left it in some hotel in America.”

“Well, it would’ve been on eBay selling for a million dollars if that were the case,” she says teasingly.

Seokjin cracks a smile. Unlike last night when, for a glorious portion of an hour, things had felt almost normal, he feels more uncomfortable than ever. Part of him feels like screaming into a pillow, for it’s occurring to him now what a terrible position he’s put himself and Nari in, not to mention Seulgi, stranded in Big Hit.

“Oh.” The word escapes his lips before he realises. He scrambles off the sofa, running a hand through his messy hair. “I have to go… I need to pick up -“ He looks up at Nari.

“Yeah, no. That’s fine.” She nods. “I hope you don’t feel weird about last night, though.”

“I don’t.” He pauses. “I don’t feel weird about it,” he says clearly, but this isn’t the time to have this discussion. Not while his girlfriend is elsewhere, not until he’s done the right thing by her.

Nari looks like she’s about to say something but shakes her head at the last moment. “That’s good. I guess I’ll see you around?”

Seokjin observes her, bare face and slightly puffy eyes. She's biting her lip - he’d kissed those lips last night, he remembers and waits for his face to get hot again.

But it doesn’t. He nods. “Yeah. See you around, Nari.” He trudges out, squinting slightly at the sun and needing a coffee so, so badly.

“Seokjin.” She’s standing at the door when he turns and her eyes twinkle slightly in a way that makes his stomach leap hopefully. “Thanks for coming last night, though.”

It takes him a moment. “Of course. Happy half-birthday, Nari.”

The roads are unforgiving. Despite a lot of the water having been drained, the streets are still flowing with ankle deep water, leaves and debris strewn around everywhere, and entire roads blocked for repairs. 

Seokjin reaches Big Hit almost thirty minutes later than he’d intended. Just as he’s about to drive into the basement parking, he spots Seulgi walking out of the front doors, one hand on the strap of her bag and the other holding her phone.

He immediately pulls into the front of the building and skids to a stop, accidentally splashing water from a puddle on her ankles.

“What the -“

“Sorry!” he exclaims apologetically, turning off the car and stepping out.

“Seokjin?” Her shoulders relax when she notices him - but she doesn’t smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, the roads are crap. Figured you might need a ride home?” he ventures.

“Oh.” She seems hesitant. Even after spending a whole night at the company sleeping quarters, she looks like she’s stepped out a shower and spent thirty minutes getting ready; there isn’t a hair out of place or a single crease in her clothing. Dressed in an ancient sweatshirt - and what he suddenly remembers with a shock are Nari’s joggers - he feels like a complete slob.

“Unless… you don’t want one.”

Seulgi stares at him. For a second, he thinks she might throw her phone at his face. But a moment later she shrugs.

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

It’s formal and slightly awkward, but Seokjin takes it as a good sign when she opens the passenger door and gets in. He drives mostly in silence; he isn’t sure what to say to her and figures he at least owes her a ride to her doorstep before they have this discussion.

This route is shorter, fortunately, and fifteen minutes later when he pulls up in front of her building, he takes a deep breath. Before he can get a word out, though, she speaks.

“We’re done, Seokjin.”

His heart jolts harder than he expected it would. “What?”

She continues looking out of the windshield, but her voice is calm yet steely. “I spent more time yesterday worrying about our relationship than on my presentation. And that’s not me. Neither is getting in the middle of a situation as messy as yours and Nari’s, but -“ She scoffs without humour.

Seokjin isn’t sure what hurts more: the fact that he wasn’t expecting this right now, or the fact that he can’t help but agree with her.

“Seulgi… I know I haven’t been a good partner lately. I know that and you deserve -“

“Don’t tell me what I deserve. Please,” she says, still calm, but this time he thinks he can hear her voice tremble slightly. “I think you tried. Trying to call me the last few weeks, checking up on me last night, picking me up right now… you’ve been raised to be a decent guy.” She shakes her head and looks out her window. “But it really loses its charm when there’s another woman in the picture.”

Shame trickles down Seokjin’s spine but he forces himself to listen to her and absorb every single word. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I felt for Nari - and I still don’t, but I never meant to -“

“Really? Is that why you’re wearing a pair of pants with her name printed on them?”

His heart stops.

“What?”

Seulgi scoffs again, but it’s followed by the smallest of sniffs. “God, I was such an idiot.”

Seokjin looks down at the joggers, frowning deeply and scanning his leg to see what Seulgi might have until he spots it: right by the edge of the pocket, in faded Hangul… Choi Nari. 

“No. No, no, this - no. No.” Seokjin shakes his head vigorously, for she's got it all wrong. But for some reason, his mouth seems incapable of saying anything other than no, no, no. 

“Spare me. You're literally in her pants,” she says icily. “God - I'm that girl. The one who started dating a guy with a girl best friend that stopped being just a friend somewhere along the way. Talk about a B-grade k-drama.” She begins gathering her bag and unstrapping her seatbelt.

“Seulgi,” he says hurriedly, “I did not - I swear to you, it's nothing like you're imagining.”

She turns to him and tilts her head, but her eyes are shuttered - apart from being wet. “Really? You weren't with her last night?”

“No! I mean, I was at her house but I wasn't with -”

“Goodbye, Seokjin,” she interrupts him, opening the car door and climbing out. “Thanks for the ride,” she mutters, just before slamming the door shut and walking away. 

Seokjin watches her leave in shock. His heart is beating uncomfortably and he feels sick in his stomach, for as much of a right Seulgi had to do this and as much as he even expected her to, hurting her this way was not something he had ever intended.

He isn’t sure how long he sits out there; it isn’t until his phone rings that he’s jerked out of his trance.

“Hello?” He clears his throat and presses his fingers into his eyes, feeling them get wet as he lowers them.

“Seokjin hyung?” There’s a minor commotion in the back. “The meeting has been pushed back by half an hour.”

It’s Jungkook. Seokjin nods, the meeting seeming like a distant problem right now. “Okay.”

“Yeah, meaning we can probably grab breakfast before it. Do you want the staff to order something for you?”

As if on cue, his stomach churns at the thought of food. “Uh, no.”

“No?”

“Yeah. I’m not hungry.” Before Jungkook can argue further, Seokjin continues. “I have to go. I’ll be there soon.”

Hanging up, he finally pulls out from in front of Seulgi’s building, beginning his drive back home.

—

Sooah’s birthday lunch has been organised in a fancy, chic restaurant in central Seoul, on the top floor with added security and an exclusive invitation list. The sun is mild and there’s a gentle breeze in the air, making the balcony area a popular spot for many of the guests to enjoy the newly improved weather with cocktails and appetizers being served by well-dressed waiters.

Hoseok provides his name at the entrance and enters the party, hoping furtively that the group of girls just outside the building haven't spotted his face. He looks around; evidently, the birthday girl hasn't arrived yet. He declines a passing waiter's offer of a prawn tempura and makes a beeline for the first member he sees.

“Hey, hyung,” he says, slightly breathless as he reaches Yoongi. The older member had ended up bringing Jungkook, Namjoon and Taehyung from the company HQ, especially after the latter two had decided they wanted to drink freely at the party and not drive after that, leaving their cars still parked in the company basement.

Now, Yoongi, who’s been quiet all morning and is holding a glass of what looks like gin, nods in acknowledgement even though his gaze is fixed somewhere on the ground.

However, Hoseok can't begin to wonder what his problem is right now. “Okay, look,” he begins, looking around to make sure there's no one around. “I did something horrible. Well, no, not horrible,” he amends quickly. “It wasn't at all - okay, here's what it is, alright?” He swallows and takes a deep breath. “I hooked up with Chaeyoung,” he confesses in a single breath.

Yoongi, who'd been listening with his gaze still burning into the ground, finally looks at him. “Wow,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Really? Isn't she, like, fifteen or something?”

“What? No!” Hoseok cries. “She's twenty-three! She's an adult - she’s as old as Jungkook! Well, slightly younger,” he admits.

“How much younger?”

“… eighteen months.”

Yoongi nods, then frowns. “Okay, well… it’s not that bad then. She’s old enough.”

“Yeah, but she’s -“ My childhood neighbour, a family friend, and Chanyeol’s baby sister. “… Chaeyoung,” he finishes uneasily. “Her brother is going to kill me,” he groans, dropping his face into his hands.

“Really? Why?” Yoongi shrugs. “It’s her life, right?”

“I mean, sure. But Chan is really protective of her, especially after their mother passed.” Hoseok doesn’t know how exactly to word it to someone who hasn't been there through it all, watching Chanyeol constantly keep an eye on the most important person in his life. Until she moved to Seoul and he asked me to take over.

“So?” Yoongi shrugs, then takes a sip of his drink. “It's her life,” she repeats. “He can't look out for her forever.”

Hoseok exhales, sensing that Yoongi isn't quite getting the point. “Okay, just imagine that I hooked up with your younger sister.” 

Yoongi grimaces slightly. “Okay?”

“And imagine that I was your best friend, that we grew up together and I saw her grow up and I was… kind of a douche to her back then,” he mutters. “But then everyone grows up and suddenly I’m in the same city as her, you trusted me to look out for her - and instead I ended up in bed with her,” he finishes with a flourish. “What would you do?”

Yoongi squints, clearly trying to process this. “I… I don’t know, that’s a lot to keep track of. And you know what, I don’t have sisters so I really - I mean, I’m not the best person to ask. But you know who is?” he adds quickly, gesturing with his chin at something behind Hoseok.

Hoseok turns to see Namjoon finishing up a conversation with someone, clinking his glass with theirs cheerfully before they part ways.

“He’s your best friend, you kind of grew up together and he has a younger sister.” Yoongi counts them off one by one. “One he’s fairly protective of.”

“Is he?” Hoseok frowns. “Protective of his sister? Like he is with Kaya?”

“Well, it’s not the same situation but he’s protective by nature. And you’re just getting an opinion, not recreating it to the T,” Yoongi reminds him, nudging his shoulder. “He’s your guy.”

Hoseok considers this and nods, making his way over to Namjoon. Namjoon notices him approaching and smiles, which Hoseok returns with a slightly confused one of his own.

“Hoba!” Namjoon exclaims, clapping him on the back and almost knocking the wind out of him. “How’ve you been? Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, uh… no, thanks.” Hoseok shakes his head but agrees to a wonton on the spread in front of them. Chewing, he observes Namjoon, who looks far happier than he can remember seeing him in recent times. It’s not unexpected, given how long he and Kaya spent apart.

Suddenly deciding he doesn’t want to think about why Namjoon looks so happy, he hurries to speak.

“So, uh… say I hooked up with your sister,” he begins quickly, only for Namjoon’s smile to disappear in an instant.

“You… what?” he exclaims, and his height suddenly seems looming.

Hoseok frowns before rolling his eyes. “Say,” he repeats, “that I hooked up with your sister.”

“Oh. Why?” When Hoseok doesn’t answer immediately, Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “Dude, did you sleep with someone’s sister?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Hoseok takes a step back and raises his hands. “I did not sleep with her. We didn’t have sex - like, it was so not like that. Because sex is… we didn’t… I mean, no sex was had,” he finishes, his throat feeling dry.

“So I take it you didn’t have sex?”

“No, we didn’t.” But I may as well have, he thinks, flashes of last night surfacing in his mind. Her hair, her skin, her voice like he’d never heard it before… Hoseok sighs. “I went over to Chaeyoung’s last night and we… fooled around,” he confesses, hoping he won’t be asked to elaborate.

Namjoon is far too sensible to do that, fortunately. “Right. And… that’s a bad thing,” he states, as though waiting for Hoseok to confirm it.

He opens his mouth, knowing what he should say. “No,” he admits after a moment. “That’s the worst part, that nothing about it was bad at all.” He shakes his head even as his chest feels lighter for the first time all day. “It was incredible. And not just the - the hooking up, but being with her, laughing and talking… God, we talked all night,” he remembers, his eyes dropping to the floor.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows again, this time looking somewhat impressed. “Sounds like the dream,” he remarks deliberately. 

“Yeah?”

“Totally. And clearly you know that because you’re getting that same little smile the thought of it,” he points out. “The one you guys used to tease me about?”

Hoseok immediately straightens his face, not even realising he’d been smiling. “Shut up.”

Namjoon shrugs serenely, finishing his drink and helping himself to a second. “You’re worried about her brother, though,” he guesses.

“More than worried.” He shakes his head and drops his face into his hands. “He’s going to think I totally betrayed him.”

“Did you, though?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you,” he says urgently. “If I hooked up with your sister - your younger sister - while I’m your friend… what would you do?”

Namjoon frowns uncertainly, apparently thinking about it, then exhales. “I wouldn’t be thrilled,” he admits. “It would feel a little like you were going behind my back? Especially since… well, it’s my sister.” He winces, apparently realising he’s not doing a very good job at explaining this. “No guy ever wants to think about his little sister doing that, least of all with one of his friends.”

“That’s perfect,” mutters Hoseok.

“No, but you know - it’s a little different in Chanyeol’s case,” muses Namjoon, now leaning backwards against the table and pointing at the air, as though it’s an interesting problem he’s solving on an invisible whiteboard. “You actually grew up with him.”

“Isn’t that worse? Because not only did I grow up with him, I grew up with her. And Chan is…” He exhales tiredly. “She won’t believe me, but he’s always been extremely protective of her. Especially since their mom died. Emotionally, physically… I know him - there’s nothing in this world he would prioritise over his sister.”

Namjoon is quiet for a moment. “Is it because their mom died?”

“I don’t know. Probably,” he admits. “He was kind of like the golden child when they were young and she was always a little left out and overlooked… he never admitted it but I know he felt guilty about it. He always tried to make up for it and look after her more - even now, when she moved to Seoul.”

“Well, I can see that,” says Namjoon reasonably. “It’s difficult to see your younger sibling as anything other than a kid, especially when they’re that much younger. You thought of her as a kid, too, if I remember correctly,” he reminds him, irritatingly logical.

“But she’s not a kid anymore,” argues Hoseok. “I did think that at first but… she’s really not. She’s smart and insightful and - and she’s focused on her career. And she’s pragmatic - you know last night during the storm, she had hot water and instant ramen stocked up in case the power went out?” His eyes widen and he shrugs hugely. “Six of us in the dorm and not one of us thought to stock up on food. If I’m not wrong, Jungkook ate a bowl of cold kimchi for dinner while Taehyung ate half a block of cheese. And that was with the power on!”

Namjoon grimaces. “What was happening while I was gone?”

“And she made brownies!” Hoseok exclaims, ignoring his friend. “And they were good. And she was crocheting - she…” He takes a deep breath. “She gave me a crocheted bear,” he tells Namjoon in a low voice. “And I don’t know if she put some kind of spell on it, but for some reason, it won’t leave my pocket.” 

Namjoon raises his eyebrows but Hoseok can’t seem to stop talking - not now that he’s finally saying out loud things that have been swimming in his brain for months.

“She’s cute and she’s funny - and she’s got this killer confidence. Where did that even come from?” he demands. “She used to be all shy and awkward before but now she’s… oh, and she’s started giving advice now? Good advice, incidentally, and I just want to… I just want to talk to her all the time because sometimes it really feels like she can solve every single one of my problems. And honestly, after last night…” Hoseok runs a hand through his hair, glancing at Namjoon’s expression and hating it, “Namjoon, believe me… she’s a grown woman.”

There’s a few seconds of silence where Hoseok fights the urge to yell incomprehensibly into the abyss.

“So… I know you guys don’t really like it when I do this,” begins Namjoon slowly, “but if I understand it correctly, your problem isn’t so much that you slept with Chaeyoung -“

“I didn’t sleep with -“

“- it’s that you’re falling in love with Chaeyoung,” he finishes, nodding as though explaining a rather simple maths problem without wanting to hurt his feelings.

“I’m - I’m not,” murmurs Hoseok, even as his heart sinks for more often than not, Namjoon is right.

“But that changes things,” says Namjoon. “If you actually had feelings for my sister - real feelings, and I was convinced that you weren’t just messing around with her… I would actually be kind of okay with it. It would be weird,” he admits, shuddering a little, “but it wouldn’t be the worst thing. I’m sure it would be the same with Chanyeol. No?”

Hoseok shakes his head. It isn’t as if the thought hasn’t occurred to him, but if there’s one person who knows Chanyeol, it’s him.

“You know, it might? Except, when we were growing up, I was a dick to Chaeyoung,” he admits in a low voice, the shame and guilt bubbling deep in his stomach. “He was protecting her from his parents and his step-mom and other kids… but he was also protecting her from me.” 

He doesn’t say it out loud - he can’t, because it’s too shameful, that the one and only time that Chanyeol ever snapped at him, the only time Hoseok ever felt that he could lose his best friend was when he’d warned him to stop making fun of his little sister.

It had been when they were in high school. Hoseok had taken it way down after that, choosing only to tease her in a more playful way or ignore her altogether, usually when Chanyeol wasn’t around. But it was undeniable that even though they’d moved past it, Hoseok had crossed a line.

Until now.

“I’m the last person Chanyeol will be okay with, being with his sister,” he states, knowing it’s true.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Look, Hobi… that was years ago. You were a kid.” He seems to spot something behind Hoseok’s shoulder. “What’s more important is how she feels about your past.”

Hoseok is about to open his mouth when his phone pings at the same time as Namjoon’s. Similar pings are heard throughout the room and when he checks his phone, it’s to see a message on a group chat.

Jimin [13:04] We’re on our way up. Everyone get ready!

As promised, less than a minute later, they hear the lift open and Jimin’s voice sing-song as he speaks. A moment later, he appears at the doorway with Sooah, his face breaking into a cherubic smile as he gestures to the room with a flourish.

“Surprise!”

All the guests chorus together and Sooah, after gasping and seemingly suffering a mild heart attack, begins greeting people who come forward to hug her. Hoseok and Namjoon hang back, allowing her school friends to greet her first, including Taehyung, while Jimin stands beside her proudly, evidently satisfied with her reaction. It’s then that Hoseok sees her.

“Oh, my God, she’s here,” he breathes, instantly turning away but unable to do so for long. He chances a glance at her as he half-hides behind Namjoon’s broad frame; in an oversized striped pink sweater, a short denim skirt, sheer pink stockings and black combat boots, she looks like an ice cream - a cute, pink, irresistible ice cream with slightly flushed cheeks and long wavy hair. Bubblegum punk, he’d said to her once and here she is, clearly embracing it.

“Okay, the worst thing you can do is be dramatic about this,” warns Namjoon. “Just go and talk to her like everything’s - wait,” he says suddenly. “What did you say to her this morning?”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t want to wake her up, so -”

Namjoon turns around with his eyebrows high on his forehead. “You snuck out?” he whispers loudly.

“No! I mean, technically - but I needed to leave for that meeting and my phone was dead so I couldn’t text her. And I didn’t want to wake her up,” he adds defensively, anticipating the question. “Don’t worry, I left her a note.”

“A note?”

“Yeah, and it was a nice note,” he says shortly. “Whatever I do, I’m not going to screw her over like that.”

They go over to greet the birthday girl after that, once the crowd thins out. Hoseok catches Chaeyoung’s eye for the briefest of moments, feeling his heart skip an enormous beat. But she moves away and he follows her slender figure going to place her present on the gift table.

“... thought it was going to be just a small lunch, you and me. You didn’t have to go through all this…”

“I wanted to give you a surprise… don’t you like it?”

“Oh, of course I do, Chim…” 

Sooah leans up to press a kiss to Jimin’s cheek, who looks mollified when he spots them, followed by Sooah. “Hey, guys,” she says, leaning up to hug them in turn as they chorus their own happy birthdays to her. “Thank you for coming, I know how busy you all are.”

“Where’s Seokjin hyung?” Jimin asks, scanning the room.

“He said he wasn’t feeling up to it. He says sorry,” adds Hoseok apologetically, while Sooah waves a hand. “He did look quite off even during the meeting this morning.”

Jimin murmurs something noncommittal but shrugs, evidently deciding to let it go when Taehyung and Jungkook join them as well, deep in discussion that abruptly stops when they come into earshot.

“Namjoon oppa, Jimin told me you just got back from New Zealand,” says Sooah. “How was it?”

“Oh, yeah, you never told us,” adds Jungkook. “Did you do the ziplining thing this time?” he asks excitedly

Namjoon takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. “No, no, we didn’t,” he answers, chuckling.

“Oh. Well, you must have gone to Milford Sound - he was obsessed with that place the last time we were there,” remembers Hoseok. “Remember? You wanted to stay there longer but the staff made us leave. That’s the kind of place Kaya would like, too.”

“Oh, yeah. It was really nice - but I don’t know, we never really got around to doing that,” he admits.

“Okay.” Jungkook frowns. “What about that Lord of the Rings hike? That’s right up your alley.”

“Er… no. Didn’t end up doing that either.”

Hoseok frowns. “So what did you do for three weeks?”

There’s a few moments where no one speaks and Namjoon doesn’t answer, opting instead to take a long, slow sip of wine and ending it with a soft smack of his lips, all the while when Hoseok finds himself slowly regretting his question.

“Oh. Oh, God.” He swallows before groaning. Jungkook’s ears go red while Sooah and Jimin snort, and Taehyung claps him on the shoulder as they all disperse, clicking his tongue and winking at him.

“Don’t prolong it,” murmurs Namjoon to Hoseok before he leaves, his eyes clearly on Chaeyoung. “Just be normal with her.”

“Right. Normal.” It’s easier said than done, for Hoseok discovers that he’s barely able to look at Chaeyoung without thinking about last night. His feelings for her were tending towards a problematic region long before this, but something had changed irreversibly last night. There was no scope for denial anymore, he realises, not about his attraction to her or deeper emotions that make his stomach flip.

Worst of all, it’s the looming thought of Chanyeol following him every time she enters his mind. He would lose Chanyeol over this, he knows it. Hoseok didn’t think losing Chanyeol would ever even be worthy of consideration in his mind - until Chaeyoung, looking like a cute, pretty, sensitive ice cream.

He drifts towards the table of hors d'oeuvres, trying to force an appetite. Nothing looks appealing, though, not now, but he scans it anyway hopefully. Someone else arrives at the table, and he smells her before he sees her.

“Hi,” says Chaeyoung, giving him a small smile and picking up a small chocolate at the edge of the table.

It’s too much: her summery perfume, her shiny hair, the memory of her naked rib cage underneath his palms while she sighed his name in a way that would make Chanyeol punch him in the face if he knew. He exhales shakily as she takes a step closer to him; even though they aren’t even slightly touching, the proximity makes his heart race and to his horror, he can feel his jeans tighten.

“What are you doing?” he asks in a low voice, dropping all pretense and turning to her.

She raises her eyebrows. “I’m saying hi,” she answers, not sounding even a fraction as frazzled as he feels. She does look… happy to see him, though. The thought makes his heart leap and hurt at the same time.

“Listen, Chae,” he begins, because he just can’t do this. She nods, looking casual and breezy, her cheeks with a hint of pink still on them. 

“Yeah?”

“Look, last night was… amazing,” he admits, noting how, despite the casual demeanour she’s displaying, a smile begins creeping up on her face as well. Her lips are pink, too, and glossy… “It was amazing and - and you’re amazing.” Her smile widens slightly and her cheeks flush a little brighter and Hoseok feels his strength start to leave him bit by bit. “But it can’t happen again. No matter how I feel… Chanyeol is still my best friend and you’re still his sister and… you are so off limits.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t seem fazed. Her smile fades slightly but not completely and she licks her lips, as though able to see right through him. “It’s a little late for that, I think,” she says lightly, brushing a lock of hair off her neck.

Be still, my heart. “No, it’s not. I mean, it… yeah. Maybe.” He looks at the floor and exhales deliberately, trying to gather his thoughts. “But it can’t go further. I - I really hope you understand, Chae,” he implores, meeting her eyes, wide and doe-like. “You’re amazing,” he repeats, meaning it, “but…”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, then nods. “Okay.” Giving him that same small, nonchalant smile, she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth and walks away.

—

Seokjin wakes up from the worst sleep he’s encountered in a while - and that includes the tour they’ve just wrapped up.

It had taken him a long time to fall asleep. Once he’d finally managed to somewhat numb himself to the fact that he’d just been dumped because his girlfriend thought he’d cheated on her, he’d tried to close his eyes and get just a little while of nothingness. But he felt wrung out; he was emotionally so exhausted that it was hard to even sleep, especially because he knew, he knew, that while his break-up with Seulgi was affecting him, it was the fact that he didn't even know how Nari fit into all this.

Well, he knew. He had an idea and he was aware of the general area in which Nari was involved, but all his strength was going into not thinking about that right now because it was a Pandora’s box he didn't want to rifle through at the moment.

Then, of course, the moment he’d tried to catch a few winks, his phone had started buzzing with updates from Sooah's birthday lunch. Jimin hadn't taken it too well when Seokjin had told him after the meeting that he wouldn't be able to make it and while he hadn't been able to bring himself to explain why, something in his expression must have done it for him, for Jimin had abruptly stopped pestering him and told him to stop by if he felt better.

He checks his phone now, realising he's slept through lunch. The late afternoon sun is already dimming, as though warning the city of an early sunset. He sits up on the couch, his back hurting and head pounding and heart racing from the vague dream he'd had of Seulgi imprisoning him in an underground jail while Namjoon appeared as a hologram and read a list of his crimes.

You're a decent guy, but it loses its charm when there's another woman in the picture. 

It was like a sick twist of fate, the momentary relief that Seulgi was breaking up with him until it turned to dread when he realised why she was breaking up with him. And the other woman in the picture… Seokjin runs a hand across his face, knowing that it wouldn't have made anything better if he'd try to explain why he was wearing Nari's joggers in the first place. 

No, I wasn't sleeping with her - not at all. I went to her place in the storm to wish her a happy half-birthday in line with a decades-old tradition, we splashed around in the rain for a while where an accidental kiss took place, and then she offered me dry clothes and her couch for the night because she's a doctor and she was worried about hypothermia.

It sounds ridiculous - not to mention like a rather trite story. He'd taken off the joggers the moment he'd entered the dorm, throwing on the first pair of trousers he'd found in his room before driving away for his meeting. He'd chucked it in the washing machine after getting back and then the dryer, and in the absence of anything else to do except overthink his ended relationship, Seokjin stalks over to the dryer and retrieves the washed joggers. Without sitting back down, he collects his keys and prepares to drive over to Nari's.

It will be therapeutic, he supposes, to get rid of the immediate cause of his break-up. Plus, he would get the opportunity to apologise to Nari again - for staying over last night, for accidentally kissing her, maybe for showing up at all.

As he nears her building, he slows down. The street is still empty, although the water guns are no longer where they were last night. It’s almost as though the evidence of what transpired has been wiped away clean; Seokjin can’t decide whether that’s supposed to be a good thing.

There’s a good chance she won’t be home right now, he realises. But he still parks the car where he had last night and steps out, folded joggers in hand, looking up at the corridor window that had blown away her notes last night. It’s open and gives him a direct view of her front door.

Just then, as if on cue, the door opens. Seokjin’s stomach leaps without warning - for she’s home - and despite the bad day he’s had so far, a ghost of a smile graces his face. 

Nari appears at the door, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Seokjin takes a step forward but halts immediately in his tracks when she breaks into a relieved sort of smile and she opens the door wider - and someone else appears into view.

It’s a man. It’s him - Jason or whoever - who she’d brought to dinner at his place. She’d maintained that they were simply colleagues but either she’d been lying or the situation had changed since then, but Seokjin is motionless as he watches Jason kiss her casually on the cheek as she moves aside to let him in.

Maybe it’s the culmination of an already dismal day or it’s the unexpected nature of this discovery, but nothing that’s happened so far has crushed his chest quite so viscerally. Seokjin almost hopes he’s mistaking someone else for Nari or it’s a friendly, platonic, even brotherly situation - he’s grasping at straws mentally, even as Jason steps inside and the door closes behind him.

—

Near the late afternoon, when the sunlight starts to become sparse, the party starts to wrap up. Guests begin saying goodbye, passing by the table piled high with gifts on their way to the lift, many people happily day drunk and stumbling out.

“Did you know Sooah had this many friends?” Yoongi mutters, sidling up to Hoseok. He looks longingly at the drinks table next to them, now with far more empty bottles than when they'd first arrived.

“I didn't know someone could have this many friends,” he admits, somewhat admiringly. Across the hall, she looks appropriately engaged, swaying to the Justin Bieber track playing on the speaker and talking to two people as she sipped on a cocktail with a straw. A little way away, Jimin, Taehyung and two other guys he'd never seen before were aggressively popping to the song while simultaneously filming each other and guffawing.

“Sounds like a lot of work.” Yoongi sighs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “When do you want to head out? Because I could use a drink.”

“Oh, is that why you've been sober all day?” Hoseok chuckles. “That’s adorable, hyung. You're like the mother hen trying to get her chickens to walk in a straight line before doing anything else.”

“That's me. Do you see the other chickens around? Namjoon and Jungkook are sharing a cigarette on the balcony,” he notes.

“Jimin and Taehyung are over there, although I’m guessing Jimin will be with Sooah. I don't think they're all Sooah's friends,” he says after a moment. “They aren't close friends at least. I think they're mostly old classmates and stuff that she's kind of in touch with. Jimin just goes all out.”

“He told you that?”

“Not exactly,” he mutters, his gaze moving to the one figure he's been glancing at continuously. Chaeyoung is by the appetiser station again, a clear drink in her hand as she fingers the edge of one of the food cards. Her bottom lip is between her teeth and she's frowning. 

As he watches, a friend of Sooah's joins her and says something, to which she nods and laughs politely. He responds and she shrugs, a bit uncertainly, before picking up a single French fry and popping it in her mouth.

“Did you talk to her?”

Hoseok doesn't bother beating around the bush and inquiring who Yoongi is referring to. “Kind of. Went better than I anticipated, actually.”

“Really?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “What did you say to her?”

“Told her last night was fun and all but it can't happen again.” Hoseok turns away from her. “She seemed fine with it.”

“You don't sound fine with it.”

“What do you mean? I'm the one who suggested it.”

“You don't sound fine with the fact that she was fine with it.”

Hoseok glares at Yoongi but doesn’t argue. He turns to Chaeyoung again, this time a bit more alert when he notices her grabbing her sling bag, clearly ready to leave. He follows her pink, wavy-haired figure as she floats over to Sooah and presumably wishes her again before giving her a hug.

He frowns as their interaction continues: Chaeyoung asks her something and Sooah responds easily, tilting her head and giggling as she points to Jimin. Chaeyoung’s face falls for a fraction of a second before it’s replaced with a smile and a nod. They hug again and this time, Chaeyoung starts to leave. 

As she does, she meets Hoseok’s eyes. His heart stops briefly but she simply gives him a casual wave and a small smile, before stepping into the lift and waiting for the doors to close.

Hoseok swallows, his mind going a mile a minute for the next few seconds. “Hyung,” he says, “you’re taking the rest of the chickens back to HQ?”

“You know it.” Yoongi follows Hoseok’s gaze. “You have your car?”

Hoseok nods before clapping him on the back and dashing off in the same direction as Chaeyoung. He takes the stairs two at a time and spills out into the lobby of the building, head darting around and spotting a telltale pair of pink stockinged legs disappearing around the corner outside the glass doors.

He follows her, jogging a bit until he’s within earshot. He calls her name and she turns, looking surprised but not altogether disappointed at his presence. 

“Hey,” she says, as though they’ve coincidentally run into each other on a normal day. Behind her, the sun is far away at the horizon, a bright spot peeking through the clouds as it prepares to set. Right now, though, it’s difficult to pay attention to it.

“Leaving already?” he asks, a little uselessly, but it’s just occurred to him that he has no idea why he followed her out.

“Yeah, I guess. Most people are gone,” she says. “Plus… I don’t really know anybody there apart from Sooah herself. And you,” she adds with a smile when he raises his eyebrows. She doesn’t say anything else but Hoseok suddenly feels guilty, for three hours at a party not knowing anyone can’t be easy.

“You know the other guys, though,” he says after a moment. “Jimin and, uh…”

“Yeah, I was hanging out with Jungkook for a while.” She nods, fingering the strap of her bag. “It’s getting late, though.”

The decent thing to do would be to offer her a ride. He’s on the verge of doing it; now that he’s here in front of her, everything he’d told her earlier today seems vague and blurry and, frankly, unimportant.

“I’m sorry, Chae.”

She frowns. “Oh, don’t be. It wasn’t that bad - like, the food was good and I got a few nice pictures -“

“No, not about that.”

“Oh.” She licks her lips and nods once. “About that… don’t be sorry about that either. I get it - it’s weird. We’re practically family and you and my brother especially are -“

“Nope. Not that either.”

She stares at him blankly. “I’m out of guesses.”

“I'm sorry for…” What’s more important is how she feels about your past. Namjoon, ever the wise one, had touched upon the only element in this mess that could bring Hoseok out of his pit of guilt about Chanyeol: Chaeyoung.

“Yeah?”

He takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry for everything. Everything I did when we were kids, everything I said…” He bites his lip as she processes this, her eyes flickering slightly before they fall to the ground. “I was a huge jerk to you. And I know I was a kid, too, and so were you… but that doesn't mean that it all just disappears when we grow up. I know over the last year we've… gotten closer -” 

Her lips twitch and his cheeks grow warm. He hurries his next words.

“- but I still want to say, explicitly, that I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Chae.”

Something massive seems to have been lifted off his chest but a dull pressure still lingers, pulsating in rhythm with his heart beat. Chaeyoung nods again, slowly, and meets his eyes.]]

“Apology accepted,” she says softly.

The pressure recedes; she feels more within reach than ever. It seems unbelievable that not twenty-four hours ago, she'd been on his lap in a state of undress, kissing him while it poured outside, making every other thought in his mind disappear. 

“And I'm sorry, too,” she says after a moment, jerking him out of his dangerous train of thought. “I wasn't mean but I was��� pretty clingy. Kids get teased mercilessly at that age over a haircut so I'm sure a kid who acted like… well, like me wouldn't have been easy,” she admits, two pink spots appearing on her pale cheeks. 

Hoseok wants to kiss her, so desperately. It takes everything in him to stay rooted to the spot, even though there isn't a single part of him that wants to stay away from her. He should, but for the life of him, he can't quite remember why right now.

Chaeyoung exhales, looking slightly awkward but somewhat relieved - or maybe Hoseok is and he's projecting. Either way, she rocks backwards on the heels of her shoes and shrugs. “Well, I'm going to head,” she says abruptly, the pink tinge on her cheeks still visible. “And… thanks.”

“You're walking?”

“Yeah. After the rain last night it's actually kind of nice. And not totally dark yet,” she adds, looking up at the sky.

He should offer her a ride. 

“Can I walk you home?” he blurts, pausing internally as he thinks about his car in the parking lot.

She looks surprised, too. “Um, are you sure? Don't you have to get back to the party?”

“Oh, no, the party is almost dead, anyway,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “Even Sooah and Jimin seem to be almost done. I'm sure they'll leave in a bit.”

“And to no one's surprise, she's going back to his place.” Chaeyoung shakes her head. “Wow, I've clearly had one too many mojitos.”

Hoseok snickers. “Don't worry about it. With what I think their plans are tonight, you don't want them in the room next to you.”

She wrinkles her nose and then laughs. “True. But you don't have to walk me home. I'm fine.”

“I don't mind. Really.”

“It's, like, a thirty minute walk.”

“Fortunately, I’m kind of good when it comes to stamina.”

Chaeyoung narrows her eyes and folds her arms across her chest. Ice cream, he thinks instantly, and begins to smile without meaning to.

“Why did you apologise?”

“What do you mean?” He shrugs. “It's the right thing to do.”

“Sure, but why today?” 

His heart starts to race - or skip, and he simply shrugs. “Seemed like as good a day as any.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t change her stance. “Are you sure?” 

The way she asks it, she seems to have caught onto something. It’s too knowing and Hoseok feels his smile getting wider.

“You’re a pain in my ass, caterpillar.”

That makes her laugh - an open, confident laugh and Hoseok’s heart soars.

“Have been, since two thousand four,” she agrees. “Except, obviously, you apologised for all that.”

“You’re going to be a handful.” The words are out of his mouth before he can control them but he finds he doesn’t mind. Chaeyoung’s smile fades slightly and she bites her lip, the sun starting to set behind her.

“You can walk me home,” she says after a moment, turning around but not moving. Hoseok hesitates for the briefest of moments but joins her as she starts walking, their fingers only inches apart.

—

Yoongi drives in silence, while Namjoon, Jungkook and Taehyung sing along to an old song from a TV show. For members of a world famous band, they all sound terrible - but he supposes that is a talent in itself. In the shotgun seat, Jungkook bounces to the song in the passenger seat while Taehyung adds his own ad-libs throughout, but Yoongi has no energy to tell them to stop.

They near the building and he drives into the basement parking, somewhat dreading going up to his studio. He parks and everybody climbs out; Jungkook mumbles something about the gym while Taehyung makes a phone call and they drift away. Namjoon hangs back, waiting for the younger members to leave their earshot before turning to Yoongi.

“Are you alright, hyung?”

“Bitchin’.” He catches Namjoon’s eye and sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. Had a rough night, that’s all.”

“Because of the rain?”

That, too. “Yeah. The good news is, I get to go edit debut tracks for a rookie group for the next eight hours.” He clicks his tongue.

Namjoon nods. “You want some company?”

“Maybe later. Once you sober up,” he adds, cracking a smile. Namjoon chuckles good-naturedly before clearing his throat. 

“I, uh, didn’t want to say anything in front of the others, but… I found this in the back seat.” He fishes something out of his pocket and hands it to Yoongi. Yoongi opens his hand automatically, his stomach turning weakly when a small, bright green earring falls into his palm.

The hook of the earring digs into his palm when he enters the top floor of the building. Yoongi takes a seat at an empty table in the open floor pantry and pulls out his phone, scrolling through his emails. The floor is busier than usual; some team seems to be celebrating a colleague’s birthday at another table, a cake with white icing and a couple of slices messily cut out sitting in the centre of the circle; one producer sits alone at a table with noise cancelling headphones on and typing aggressively on his laptop. 

Yoongi looks around absently when his eyes land on the coffee station where - something pounds into his chest - he locks eyes with Miso. She holds his gaze for a couple of seconds before turning her back on him and dealing with her coffee. 

The earring feels heavy in his hand and all of a sudden, he feels the urge to hurl it out of the window. There is next to no way it’s making it back to its owner in any case. After Miso had icily got into her car outside the motel this morning and Seungwan had driven her away, Yoongi had walked out of the room and watched her leave, proceeding to smoke two full cigarettes in the chilly morning.

The receptionist from last night had also appeared and he’d offered her a cigarette voluntarily, for she looked rather drained as well. Something about how quiet and isolated the place was, not a sound anywhere or even a breath except for the person next to him, made Yoongi feel so disconnected from everything that he felt numb. It was too early, too cold and too unfair. Next to him, the receptionist had chucked her half-smoked cigarette on the ground.

“You didn’t finish that,” stated Yoongi, not really caring.

She’d glanced at him before turning to look ahead, and Yoongi noticed for the first time the carnage from the storm in front of the motel: tree trucks, piles of scattered branches and leaves, water accumulated and overflowing from a ridge in the ground. 

“Fuck it,” she’d said.

Maybe it was the aftermath of a terrible night or some sort of shared dissatisfaction with the world but fifteen minutes later, they were in the backseat of Yoongi’s car. It was quick, casual and ended almost as abruptly as it began, with both of them adjusting their clothes and going their separate ways with a brief, formal goodbye. 

It seems like ages ago now, with Miso across the room from him, getting coffee outside her studio. Yoongi lowers his head and stares at his phone screen, not reading anything. From the corner of his eye, he sees her turn around and walk in his direction; she would have to pass him to return to her studio.

He can’t think about their argument last night any longer. It’s been rattling around in his mind all day: the rage, the guilt, the desperate desire to sit her down in front of him and read her damn mind. Most of all, there’s an inkling of shame somewhere, deep down, in knowing that his reaction last night had been exactly what she’d expected. 

That’s what it had looked like, at least; her eyes had shuttered over at some point and she’d reverted to the old Miso, the one who seemed to live to annoy him and gave nothing, no indication of who she was or what she was thinking. Her walls that he’d worked so hard to make a crack in had gone up instantly, except this time there was a disappointment there he’d never encountered before.

A flash in front of him jerks him away from the table: a hand appears momentarily, placing a cup of iced coffee in front of him with a small thud, before disappearing. Heart racing in mild shock, he turns to see Miso walking away without a second glance, her fingers wrapped around another cup as she turns the corner of the corridor.

He stares at the cup. Sip it first, he’d say ordinarily, straight-faced with only a hint of irony. You’re just going to have to trust me, Min Suga, she’d say, shrugging and settling into her chair, giving him a challenging raise of the eyebrows.

Yoongi takes a sip of the cold liquid, feeling it coat his throat and savouring the hit of caffeine. After a moment, he gets up and heads down the corridor, stopping at Donghyuk’s studio and pausing before he knocks. 

“Come in,” comes Miso’s voice, dry and uninterested.

Yoongi pushes open the door slowly to see her alone at the console, a laptop open in front of her and a singular lamp at the other end of the room being the only source of light. She looks at him very briefly before going back to her work. It almost seems as though she expected him to follow her; he can’t tell if she’s happy about it, though.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he says.

She simply nods in response, scrolling through something on the laptop.

“Listen,” he says again, placing the coffee on a table next to him and running a hand tiredly through his hair. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

“Last night…” He trails off for a moment, wishing he’d rehearsed this a bit before coming in here. “Well, firstly, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have… anyway. Sorry.”

Miso finally turns to him, looks him up and down, and then turns back around. “‘Kay. Is that it?”

“No.” He exhales. “I hooked up with someone this morning. After you left, the receptionist and I… we had sex.” He cringes inwardly at his own words but he can’t fathom how else to say it without mincing words. She’s still looking at her laptop; he isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, but her shoulders  stiffen slightly. “Anyway. I just wanted to let you know.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then -

“So?”

“So?”

“Why are you telling me?” she asks, shrugging and turning around briefly. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

“I know you’re not. But…” He frowns, trying to suppress the annoyance in his stomach that’s already threatening to bubble up. “I’m just letting you know. Transparency and all that.”

“But it’s none of my business.”

Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, counts to three and slowly exhales. “Right. Well. It’s just something normal people do, I guess. Talk to each other and communicate when they’re…”

She turns around properly this time, her legs folded and her elbows resting on her thighs. “When they’re…” She raises her eyebrows. “When they’re hooking up? We made out a few times… are you telling me because of that?”

He doesn’t respond; he can barely look at her right now, anger and embarrassment creeping into his chest now.

“This is exactly what I was afraid of, Yoongi,” she says knowingly, as though she’s pointing out an unsatisfactory edit to a track. “I told you to stay away. But you didn’t listen. You stayed, you got attached, and you’re telling me about a one-night stand you had. And now you have some kind of… expectation of me when what you really should have done was stay away right from the start.”

“You know what? I’m starting to think the same thing,” he snaps, shaking his head and going to grab his coffee. “I guess forming an attachment with an ice queen is my lesson.”

“You got me attached, too.” It’s the only thing that makes him stop in his tracks. “And that’s the problem with getting attached - you start to care. And then when you find out something that you can’t help, something that’s out of your control and doesn’t fit the image of me you have in your mind - the damsel that needs saving because, admit it, that’s what I am to you right now - it shatters everything.”

Yoongi grits his teeth, but somewhere his throat starts to hurt. He grips the cup and turns around slowly to see her still sitting in the same position, face and voice unnaturally calm.

He needs to choose his words carefully, he knows, but she makes it impossible to think. “I do care,” he begins slowly in a low voice, staring at the floor. “You can make it out to be whatever saviour complex you want but I do care and I do want to help you and be there for you. What is wrong with you that you won’t let me?” he demands tightly, clenching his fist at his side.

“Because it won’t work,” she continues in that same state of forced calm. “This - this challenge? You can spend weeks and months and do all-nighters and collaborate with whoever you want but it’s not going to work. It’s beyond you now. And once you realise that, it’s just going to be an abandoned project. A file somewhere in your computer you just couldn’t crack. I don’t need to be saved,” she says after a moment. “So it’s better for you that you stop trying. And maybe you won’t be so disappointed anymore.”

Yoongi stares at her, her impassive eyes and slouched figure. It’s exhausting; he’s tired and drained and helpless and she simply moves farther and farther away each time.

“You got it, Kang Chanel,” he mutters. “I’ll stay away.” Not wanting to spend a second longer in here, he turns around and walks out of the studio.

Miso watches him leave, using every bit of strength in her to keep her mind blank, to push every single thought and emotion out and, for just a few hours, focus on something that isn’t her clusterfuck of a life. She spends the next few hours alone in the studio, eating take-out from a box and going on a Zoom meeting with Donghyuk.

When it’s nearly midnight, hours longer than she’d thought she’d stay (but wishing she could for longer), she begins to wrap up, saving and closing demo files and packing up her notebook, when her inbox pings.

“Damn it, Donghyuk,” she sighs, bending over to squint at the screen in the dark. Her heart skips a beat when she sees an instant message from Min, Yoongi. Index finger hovering over the mouse, she takes a deep breath and opens it. It’s a screenshot of what looks like a folder on a Mac laptop, but empty. She frowns when her laptop pings again.

[Prod Suga] [00:02] [screenshot] This is all the abandoned projects I’ve had in ten years. Happy to stay away, but don’t you dare call yourself a project ever again.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave a review :)

[wigglebox]

☕️☀️

[imaginedisish]

Close to You (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Oh my god. I got so carried away with this. It was not supposed to be this long. Anyway, here's the beach fic, y'all. This one is inspired by "Close to You" by Gracie Abrams...which is an absolute banger. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The team goes away on a weekend beach trip, and your pining for Logan comes to a head when you're forced to share a room...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!! Thigh riding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, soft!Logan, feelings, fluff, afab!reader/fem!reader, reader wears a bikini (no descriptions at all, though!), one bed trope (muahaha), friends to lovers, cursing, absolutely some grammatical errors bc this fic is so long, I think that's it!

Word Count: 6,577 this was so self indulgent

You step out onto the concrete and the salt in the air immediately coats your skin. The breeze is sticky and slightly humid, but it smells so good. You can hear the waves crashing against the sand, seagulls squawking above. Laughter on the boardwalk. Carnival music blaring from all the rides. It’s perfect—the sun is high, fluffy white clouds framing the endless blue sky.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Jubilee cheers, closing the car door as she slides out of the Jeep. 

Jean and Scott step out of their car, parked just up ahead, unloading their bags. “It’s so nice of the Professor to give us the weekend off!” Jean says excitedly, placing her bag down onto the sidewalk and wheeling it up to the porch of the house. “I can’t believe he rented this place for us.” It’s a yellow, two-story cottage with a lemonade porch, adorned with white shutters and a shingled roof.

Logan makes his way to the trunk of his Jeep, pulling out bag after bag. You rush to his side, reaching inside the trunk. “Let me help you,” you mumble as the rest of the team excitedly approaches the house. 

Logan smiles and shakes his head, reaching for the same bag you are. His fingertips brush yours as he takes the bag away, your heart beating in your chest at the sudden contact. “Don’t worry, princess,” he huffs, smirking as he places the bag down in front of you. Heat rises to your chest at the nickname. “Don’t lift a finger. Go inside and check out the place.” He nods his head towards the front door and grabs another bag. 

You smile, throwing your backpack over your shoulder, grabbing two bags, and carrying them to the front door in protest. “Gonna help you anyway,” you say over your shoulder. Logan chuckles as he closes the truck, grabbing the rest of the duffle bags and following behind you. 

He meets your side as you walk through the doors. The walls are pale blue, and the bottom halves are lined with white shiplap. Beechwood covers the floors. The living room is light and airy, white curtains floating through opened windows. The kitchen is off to the side, and to the back is a large open sunroom. Just straight ahead are the stairs. 

Jean and Scott settle some groceries on the counter as Jubilee, Kurt, Rogue, and Gambit head upstairs to see the bedrooms. 

“Hey, guys?” Jubilee calls from upstairs. You can tell by the sound of her voice that something is off. “I thought the Professor said there’d be six beds.”

Jean puts away a bag of chips and steps back into the living room, following Jubilee’s voice up the steps, and disappearing as her feet hit the landing. “How many are there?” She asks, her voice muffled.

“Five,” Jubilee answers. “Three queens and two bunk beds, and Kurt and I took the bunks already.”

“That’s fine,” Jean says, shrugging her shoulders as she heads back downstairs. “We’ll all just be a little tight—closer quarters than usual.”

And that’s when it finally hits you. Three queen beds—and Kurt and Jubilee took the twin bunks. 

You’ll be sharing a room with Logan.

You turn to him and find that his eyes are already on you. “You okay sharing, princess?” He asks, nodding to the steps.

You swallow harshly, trying to mask your nervousness, hoping Logan can’t hear the way your heart beats out of your chest. “Yeah!” You say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Totally fine with it.”

He nods, smiling softly as he walks towards the steps, his bags in his hands. You follow behind him, the wood stairs creaking with every step you take. 

Jean was not exaggerating; the upstairs of the house is extremely small. There may be four bedrooms—but bedroom is a generous title. Each room is only large enough to hold a queen bed, a single dresser, and a small nightstand on either side of the bed. There’s little to no walking room. One of the rooms—Kurt and Jubilee’s—has just a bunk bed and a nightstand, with a tiny wardrobe in the corner. In the center of the tight hallway is a bathroom with a simple sink, toilet, and a stand-up shower. 

Logan steps into the first bedroom to the left of the stairs and puts his bags down on the ground. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asks, watching as you put your bags down next to his. “I can sleep on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shake your head, walking over to the window and taking in the view of the ocean. “Don’t worry,” you say, watching kids run across the sand, trying to distract yourself from how close Logan is to you in this tiny room. “We’re adults.” You turn to face him, fighting the urge to let your eyes trail up and down his body. “We can share.” Or at least, you hope you can. 

You can handle this for a weekend. You can force down your feelings—can ignore your massive crush on Logan for seventy-two hours. That’s all this is. A weekend trip. This is doable. You’ve been through so much worse than this. 

“If you change your mind, you can let me know,” Logan says, reaching his arm out towards your shoulder. His knuckles brush against your bare skin, and you let yourself lean into his touch. He’s warm, solid, cozy—

“Let’s go to the beach!” Jubilee interrupts, Logan’s hand falling from your shoulder instantly. “We didn’t come here to sit in a house all weekend, did we?” She jumps away from the door and runs down the stairs. 

 “Kid has a point,” Logan says, shrugging his shoulders and nodding towards the door. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling widely. “Already have my bathing suit on.” Logan smiles back and grabs your wrist, tugging you into the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re sitting on the beach, watching as Jubilee and Kurt splash each other recklessly in the water. Jean sits in a chair, reading a book, while Scott lays on a beach towel, eyes likely closed behind his glasses. Rogue and Gambit walk down the shoreline, hand in hand.

Logan stands up from the beach blanket you share, tugging his beater up and over his head. “I’m going in,” he says, just to you. “Wanna come?” He reaches out his hand again, the same hand that tugged you the whole way here. You bite your lip, nerves building in your stomach again. “Come on,” Logan says, smirking. “I don’t bite.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, and you take his hand, standing up. You let go and tug your shorts down your legs. You look up at Logan as your fingertips find the hem of your tank top, his eyes trained firmly on you. Your stomach somersaults as you pull your shirt up your body, revealing your bikini top, knowing Logan is watching. 

Logan’s throat bobs as he swallows. He nods towards the ocean, wordlessly grabbing your hand again and tugging you along. 

The waves lap at your ankles, and you force yourself into the cold water. Logan seemingly has no problem at all, pulling you along from a few feet ahead. The water is already up to his hips. He looks behind at you, all wide-eyed and happy. 

“You’re not afraid, are you?” He teases, squeezing your hand tighter. Your heart drums against your ribcage at the feeling. He’s never held your hand like this. You try to shove down your feelings, to brush away how having him this close makes you feel, but nothing changes. You want him all the same. 

You take a deep breath and shake your head as the cold water barrels against the middle of your thighs. “No,” you protest. “I’m just freezing.” 

Logan smiles wider. “You gotta get all the way in!” He tugs you further, pulling you closer to him so that you’re shoulder to shoulder. You can’t tell if it’s the icy waves or your proximity to Logan that makes your heart freeze in your chest, that makes you crave the warmth of his body. You want to be close to him. You want him to pull you into his chest and hold you. 

“Do I have to?” You ask playfully, a half-smile turning up at the corner of your mouth. 

He jokingly rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he says, dropping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist instead. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. You choke on your own breath as he guides you further into the water. “You okay?” He asks. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble, his fingertips pressing against the bare skin of your stomach. Goosebumps pebble your flesh. Finally, Logan guides you all the way into the water, up to your shoulders. It’s a surprisingly calm day—the waves easy and gentle. 

Logan lets go of your waist and treads water, slipping underneath the dark blue current and coming back up—his hair wet, drops of water dripping down his face and neck. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips at the sight. 

“Your turn,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes half shut as he swims towards you. 

Your smile drops as you swim away. Logan grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him. You yelp as he tugs you closer. You turn around and splash him playfully, freeing yourself from his grasp as he wipes the salt water off his face. 

You laugh, still backing away from Logan. He creeps forward, assessing you like an animal stalks its prey. “You’re not getting away that easy, pretty girl,” he huffs. 

What was that? Your eyes widen as those last two words repeat in your head. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice him closing the gap between the two of you. Suddenly his hands are on your hips, dragging you into his chest. 

His grip is like iron around your waist, keeping you in place, your hips pressed to his, your chests touching lightly. You don’t feel the coldness of the water anymore—you can’t feel anything except Logan. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. The world stopped long ago, his arms wrapping around your back now, pulling you closer. The playfulness of the moment disappears—this is something else, something more serious. Logan brings his face closer to yours, his lips just centimeters away. This is it, you think to yourself. The moment when everything finally changes—

“Hey!” A familiar voice calls from the beach. Logan’s eyes fall closed—an almost defeated look painting across his face. Your head whips to the sand, and the team is standing by the beach chairs. Jubilee waves you and Logan over. “We’re going to the boardwalk! Come on!”

Logan opens his eyes. You think he’s going to push you away, to let you go, but he only holds you tighter. “Give us a second!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice. 

But Jubilee crosses her arms against her chest. Scott chuckles and walks ahead with Jean. Gambit and Rogue look at each other knowingly, and Kurt teleports to the edge of the water. 

“And just like that…” Logan murmurs, half to himself, half to you. “Moment ruined.” 

You tilt your head, the implication of his words wracking your brain. “What do you mean—” 

But Logan is pulling you along with him to the shore before you can finish asking for clarification. His arms drop from your waist, his hand grabbing yours to guide you onto the sand. He bends down, picking up your shorts and top from the beach blanket the team left out, and passing them to you. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, your hands parting as he shoves his beater up and over his head. Once you’re dressed, flip-flops and all, you join the team and make your way up to the boardwalk. 

Gambit is talking with Logan about something just ahead, trailing on and on, clearly irritating Logan, while Rogue falls back to walk with you. 

“So,” she says softly, her eyes flitting between you and Logan. “What’s going on there, sugar?” She asks, smirking. 

You furrow your brows, trying to hide your smile. “Nothing that I know of,” you say, somewhat honestly. This might be nothing—might just be a friend teasing another friend. A friend whose lips were just inches from yours, so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. A friend who dug his fingers into your waist to pull you closer to his—

“Nothing, huh?” She asks, snapping you back to reality. “Because I think he would’ve kissed you if Jubilee didn’t interrupt,” she whispers so only you can hear. 

Heat rises to your chest at her words. “I don’t know. We’re just friends…” You trail off. 

“We’ll see about that, sugar,” Rogue says, walking ahead, tearing Gambit away from Logan. Logan’s shoulders visibly relax once Gambit is gone, and he looks back at you, slowing his steps so that you can meet his side. 

“Hi,” he husks, smiling down at you. 

You smile back, the warmth of his hand suddenly spreading across your lower back. It’s gentle, the ghost of a touch, almost not quite there—more tentative than in the ocean when it felt like no one was watching. But it’s solid and centering all the same. 

“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel!” Jubilee suggests, holding out the ticket booklet that Jean and Scott ran ahead to buy. She tears out tickets—three for each person. Jean and Scott hold hands and walk to the front of the line. Rogue leans over to Jubilee, whispering something into her ear that makes her eyes widen. She nods and pairs off with Kurt. Rogue turns around and winks at you while Logan isn’t looking. 

You look up at him and see that he’s staring off at the sun slowly setting. Pink, orange, and red erupt in the sky, the colors blending, painting across the wispy clouds. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” you say as the others climb into the Ferris wheel gondolas in pairs. 

Logan smirks, his eyes finding yours as you approach the front of the line. “Looks like it, pretty girl,” he husks. There it is again. Pretty girl. The ride attendant slows down the wheel, and you and Logan slip inside the gondola. You think maybe he’ll sit across from you, but he sits next to you instead. 

The attendant closes the door of the gondola, and the ride starts up. Once you’re off the ground, Logan slips his arm around your shoulder, his palm warm against your bare skin. “This okay?” He asks, his lips at the shell of your ear. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your breath catching in your throat as his thumb brushes gentle circles into your arm. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck, and he leans against you, fitting together like puzzle pieces. 

It’s silent communication—knowing, but not saying. You can feel his intention as his arm tugs you closer, his lips at the crown of your head. Your heart beats out of your chest—for the millionth time today—and you know he can hear it. 

You reach the top of the Ferris wheel and look out at the ocean, the sun hitting the water, turning the blue waves to gold. “It’s beautiful,” you mumble, the current rippling against the shore, glistening vibrantly like the ocean figured out alchemy. 

Logan chuckles softly. “I can think of something prettier, you know,” he husks, his lips still pressed into the crown of your head. Your heart thumps in your chest at his words. You lift your head, looking up at him.

His eyes meet yours, a soft smile playing upon his lips. “Logan, I—”

But the gondola comes to a sudden stop, and the door to the car swings open. You’re already back on the ground. The attendant crosses his arms, waiting for you and Logan to get out. Logan rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and helping you back onto the boardwalk. The team is already off the ride, waiting for the two of you at the exit.

“Why don’t we play some games and then head back to the house for the night?” Scott suggests, his arm wrapped around Jean’s waist. 

Jubilee smiles widely. “Yes! I wanna play the game where you throw the lobster into the pot!”

“Gambit’s gonna win chere a prize,” Gambit drawls, tugging Rogue into his chest. “The biggest one Gambit can find.” Rogue giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Jubilee and Kurt run off to the other side of the boardwalk, immediately finding the lobster-pot game. Jean and Scott follow behind, making sure they don’t get into trouble. Rogue and Gambit go out on their own, heading toward the ring toss game. 

You and Logan are left alone. Again. Surely everyone is doing this on purpose. “What do you wanna play?” You ask, nodding towards the array of games lined up on the opposite side of the boardwalk. 

His eyes meet yours, flitting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Whatever you want, darlin’.” You smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards balloon darts. 

You approach the booth, and Logan pulls out his wallet, handing a five-dollar bill to the woman running the game. She slides a cup of five darts towards you and Logan, and steps off to the side, away from the balloons. Logan watches as you grab a dart and throw, completely missing the balloon you were aiming for. You groan, rolling your eyes, and grab another dart. 

“Here,” Logan rasps, standing behind you. He holds your hand in his, lining the dart up to a balloon. His other arm wraps around your waist, the front of his hips pressing into your back. “Like this,” he murmurs, pulling your hand back. You let go of the dart when he thrusts forward. The dart pierces a balloon, the pop echoing through the booth. 

You look up at him, his face close to yours, and smile. He grabs another dart, his eyes still focused on you, and throws without looking away, popping another balloon. “Now you’re just showing off,” you say teasingly as your smile grows wider. He grabs another dart, aiming at a bigger balloon this time, and pierces it with ease. 

“Gotta win you a prize, pretty girl,” he says, grabbing the last dart from the cup, and tossing it across the booth, directly into the biggest balloon on the board. It pops—of course—and the game attendant’s jaw drops. 

She shakes her head, walking over to the bigger prizes. “Never seen anyone do that before…” she trails off, pointing to the giant plushies. “You can pick any of these.”

Logan’s arm sneakily wraps around your waist as he waits for you to pick between a giant fox, panda, or dolphin. “The fox, definitely the fox,” you decide. 

The attendant grabs the fox and pulls it down, handing it to you. You squeeze it to your chest, Logan’s grip on your waist tightening. “He’s so cute!” You giggle, looking up at Logan, who’s guiding you towards the edge of the boardwalk. “Thank you,” you say softly.

He shakes his head and looks out towards the water. “It was nothing,” he says, his arm still around your waist as you lean against the railing of the boardwalk. The sun is falling behind the horizon, stars rising in the sky. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he turns to face you. “Listen…” He starts, his jaw working as his grip on your waist falls away, his forearms bracing on the railing. Your shoulder presses against his, the tension between you palpable. “I’ve been thinking…” But he pauses again, his eyes searching yours. 

“We ready to head back to the house?” Scott asks, interrupting the conversation. Logan’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he leans forward. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Logan mutters, thinking you can’t hear him, resting his head against the railing. 

Jubilee grabs your arm, holding up her little stuffed teddy bear. “Look what I won!” Her smile drops when she sees your giant fox. “Oh my god, my bear is nothing compared to that! That thing is massive!”

You smirk, glancing over at Logan. “Wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t for him.” Logan lifts his head and smiles sheepishly at you. 

The moon rises high in the quickly darkening sky. You’re not quite sure where the day went. Everything happened so quickly—the hours spent on the sand, Logan tugging you into the water. It was perfect. Beyond perfect. And now it was time to head back. 

The team treks down the boardwalk and onto the street, trailing a few blocks before arriving back at the house. You and Logan walk shoulder to shoulder the whole way there, leading at the front of the group. Logan grabs the key from his pocket, unlocks the door, and you all head inside. 

Jubilee and Kurt run into the kitchen scavenging for snacks. Gambit and Rogue crash onto the living room couch. 

“We’re gonna head to bed,” Scott says, Jean following him up the stairs. “Night, guys.” Everyone mutters soft goodnights in response, and a comfortable silence falls upon the house. 

“Gonna steal the upstairs shower before they get to it,” you whisper to Logan, nodding to Jubilee and Kurt. 

He smirks. “I’ll shower down here,” he says back. “See you upstairs?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer, suddenly remembering that you’re sharing not just a room with Logan, but a bed. You walk away and head upstairs, grabbing your pajamas from your duffle bag and making your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the water and undress. The shower is warm and relaxing, releasing the tension you had spent the entire day holding in. But the peace is temporary—your thoughts drift off to Logan. You imagine him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, waiting for you to join him. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you try to ignore the heat growing at the bottom of your belly. Maybe you should’ve taken a cold shower instead. 

You finish up in the shower, turning the water off and grabbing a towel. You reach for your pajamas, only to realize you forgot your bottoms and your bra. You step into your panties and shrug your oversized band t-shirt over your head. You push the bathroom door open just a crack, and seeing no one in the hallway, you make a break for it, tip-toeing to your room. You slip inside and shut the door. 

Logan coughs from behind you, and you whip around. “S-sorry,” he stutters, standing up from the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless, just like you imagined he’d be, wearing only a pair of boxers. His hair is still damp from his shower. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut him off. “No, no,” you assure. “It’s totally fine.” You’re worried you sound too eager, too focused on making sure he stays. You clear your throat nervously, stepping towards your duffle bag. You lean down, hoping your t-shirt is still covering your ass as you rifle through your belongings. You groan when you finally realize you forgot to pack pajama shorts. You stand up and make your way around to the left side of the bed.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks, following suit and walking to the right side of the bed. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I, um…” You trail off, motioning towards your duffle bag. “I forgot pajama bottoms,” you finally spit out. “If you’re uncomfortable or—”

“No,” Logan cuts you off this time. “I’m not uncomfortable at all.”

You smile, climbing into the bed and slipping under the covers, and Logan does the same. He rolls onto his side and turns off the lamp—the only light on in the room. The space is engulfed in darkness save for the pale light of the moon pushing through the curtains. 

You take a deep breath; you’re more nervous than you can comprehend. You could simply turn away from Logan, but you’re too anxious to move. Your stomach somersaults as his knee brushes against your thigh. You force your eyes shut, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Logan mumbles into the dark room, shuffling under the covers. “You okay?”

You swallow harshly, humming a soft mhm, too distracted to form a complete sentence. 

“I know you aren’t telling the truth, pretty girl,” Logan whispers, his hand finding your waist. “I can sleep on the couch, if you—”

“No,” you protest, the words escaping your lips almost uncontrollably. “It’s f-fine,” you stammer. “I’m fine.”

He chuckles darkly. “Then what’s got you so worked up, huh?” Oh. He knows. He has to know. You can hear it in his voice. 

“N-nothing,” you lie, your eyes fluttering open. Logan is closer to you now, his fingertips trailing down to your thighs, to the hem of your shirt. 

“Relax,” Logan husks, his hand slipping back up your body and settling on your waist. He tugs you closer to him. “This okay?” He asks, and you hum a quiet yes. You can feel the tension thickening, feel it readying to snap. He breaks the silence. “Thought about this all day, you know.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “Th-this?” You ask, your legs tangling with his. 

“Being alone with you,” Logan rasps. Your shirt hikes up as he pulls you into his chest. “Wanted to get you alone earlier,” he says, his hand sliding back down your body, playing with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingertips drag along your stomach. 

You curse under your breath, Logan’s forehead pressing against yours. “Logan,” you whisper, his name the only thing you can think of. You’re sure he can smell the arousal building between your thighs. 

“There’s no going back from this. You know that, don’t you?” He whispers, his breath hot against your lips. He’s so close, his thigh pushing between your legs, bumping against your core. 

“Yes,” you sigh. “Don’t wanna go back.” 

Your eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by how close Logan is to you. “Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea how much I need you.” 

His lips crash against yours, his thigh dragging along your core. You moan into his mouth, his tongue swiping across your lower lip. You part your lips, inviting him inside, his tongue tasting yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, involuntarily bucking your hips, grinding down on his thigh. “N-need you too.”

“I know, beautiful,” he soothes, gripping your waist, rolling you onto your back, pushing you into the mattress. “Fucking thought about you all day, always thinking about you.” He slides your shirt up above your tits, drinking you in with his eyes. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl.” He hovers over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand explores your body.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he palms your left breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then doing the same to the other side. It’s dizzying having him this close. You can smell his body wash—notes of musk and pine and a hint of leather on his skin. 

“Please,” you beg, not quite sure what you’re even begging for. All you know is how badly you want him—need him. 

Logan buries his face into the crook of your neck as his thumb rolls over your nipple, biting down on your pulse point and sucking the sensitive skin between his lips. “Please what, darlin’?” He mumbles, continuing his assault on your neck. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper, your hips rocking against Logan’s. “W-want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? That what you want?” Logan teases, his hand pushing between your legs, his fingertips finding your clit through your panties. “What if I wanted to taste you first?”

“W-whatever you want,” you moan, grinding down onto his hand. “I’m yours.”

He lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead to yours. “Whatever I want?” His voice is thick, cocky, almost mocking. “You’re mine,” he husks, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck. “All fucking mine.” He crawls down your body, trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your panties. 

Your hips lift off the mattress as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor. He nestles between your thighs, his breath hot against your cunt. You tremble in anticipation, watching as he breathes you in, his jaw working. You can see in his eyes that he’s holding himself back. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice suddenly soft, his cockiness replaced by genuine care. "Not gonna be able to stop once I start.” But you know he doesn’t just mean in the moment, right now—he means forever. 

“I’m sure, Lo,” you whine. It comes out like a prayer, like a desperate cry, a guilty plea. 

And then he buries his face into your heat, his tongue swiping through your folds. He grunts against you, flicking your clit before stroking his tongue through your folds again. “Fuck,” Logan groans, his face pressing harder into you, his tongue exploring your cunt. “Tastes better than I ever imagined,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his voice pulsing against your core. “So fucking sweet.”

Your hips jolt away from him as his tongue laps at your sensitive clit. His palms quickly slide under your legs, wrapping around your thighs, yanking you back to his face, and holding you down onto the mattress. “Don’t move, princess,” he chides, his nails digging into your flesh. “Wanna eat this pretty pussy.” 

“L-Lo,” you stutter as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles around your clit. You’re already close, his teasing words enough to push you over the edge. But you know he’s nowhere near done—he’s only getting started. 

His right hand loosens its grip around your thigh, his nails dragging down the curve of your ass and towards your folds. His fingertips prod your slit, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” he praises, his lips wrapping around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud lightly as he sucks. “Want my fingers?” He asks, knowing your answer, but wanting to hear you beg for him. 

“Yes, Logan, please. Need—” 

He’s thrusting two long, thick fingers deep inside you before you can finish your sentence. “Fuck,” he whispers, pulling out and pumping back in—down to his knuckles. He stills inside you, letting you adjust to him. “So goddamn tight.” His tongue laps at your clit. “Gonna have to work you open for me, hm?” He mutters, thrusting in and out now. 

You’re so overwhelmed, your swollen clit already overstimulated. He wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking harder this time, his fingers unrelenting as they plunge deeper with every pump. His tongue draws long, hard strokes around your bud, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

It feels like a wildfire is spreading through your veins, a current dragging you under and holding you down. Warmth blossoms in your belly. “Doing so good for me, beautiful,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you. Your walls flutter around him at his words, sucking him in deeper. “Know you’re close, pretty girl.”

“Logan,” you moan, his tongue drawing those tight circles around your clit again. He’s adding more pressure, his fingers dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you, splitting you in two. “Please, need to come…” You trail off, your back arching off the mattress, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“Come for me,” Logan demands, his voice dark and filled with lust. “Wanna know what it tastes like.” His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers rocking in and out of your entrance. “Wanna see that pretty face when you let go.” 

And then the tension breaks, white-hot heat pouring freely from the bottom of your belly. Your vision goes blurry as Logan laps at your clit, his fingers still pumping in and out, working you through your high. You moan his name, pleasure ripping through your body in intense waves. 

His pumps relax, his fingers stilling inside you before he finally pulls out. His face is still buried against your cunt, licking long stripes through your folds. He’s savoring the taste of your release, drinking every last drop you have to give. “Can’t get enough of you,” he husks. “Could do this forever.” 

He licks one last long stripe through your folds before lifting his face from your cunt. He’s a mess—your release glistening on his chin, his hair disheveled, his boxers all wrinkled. Your heart beats in your chest at the sight. All this, just for you. 

Logan crawls up your body, hovering over you again, lowering down onto his forearm. “Wanna fuck you, beautiful,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. “Wanna know what you feel like.” His hand slips between your legs, his fingertips finding your swollen clit and giving it a gentle pinch. Your hips buck against him at the sudden sensation. 

“Wanna feel you too,” you whimper, your arms wrapping around his back. “Want you inside me, please.” 

And then he’s tugging his boxers down his legs, his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh. You can’t see—but you can feel just how massive he is. His tip slides through your folds, spreading your arousal. 

“You know how bad I need you?” Logan whispers, his lips finding yours. He bites your lower lip and kisses away the pain. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” And then he sinks himself inside you, down to the hilt with one smooth, fluid thrust. “Thought about this every day since I met you.” 

Your muscles release and contract at his words. His hips stall, letting you adjust to the size of him. You feel indescribably full. He’s splitting you open, stretching you out, claiming you as his. His hips pull back, his cock sliding out, and he plunges back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Th-thought about you too,” you stutter, already too fucked out to form a coherent thought. “Always wanted you.” Logan sets a reckless pace as his fingertips find your clit again, working long, languid strokes into the bud, teasing you, leading you on. 

“You feel so perfect,” Logan praises, rocking into you, his cock dragging along your walls. “So fucking warm, so tight. Made for me.” His lips are on yours again, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, swallowing your moans. “Never gonna want anybody else, pretty girl.”

His hips snap against yours, his fingers circling your clit faster now. “Just want you, Lo,” you choke, the tension building at the bottom of your belly, a fire burning through your bones. “Only want you.”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice suddenly soft, contrasting with the way he pounds into you recklessly, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his cock. “It’s you, just you.” You can hear the emotion in his voice, the sincerity, the desperation, the aching longing. 

Your chest heaves against his. He’s fucking you to get closer to you, to be as deep inside you as possible. This isn’t just sex—this isn’t just some tension that needs to be broken. It’s an invisible string keeping the two of you tied closely together. Maybe it was stitched by the Fates centuries ago, laid out carefully, a plan to be executed. Maybe everything that led you to this moment was always meant to be. Because here you are now, his lips soft and hungry against yours, his words tearing through your resolve, his cock buried deep inside you, searching for a way to get deeper. And all you can think is…

This is it. This is what people mean when they talk about love—that word that changes its meaning every time you say it. The word with a definition that always escapes you. You know what it means now. 

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, that fire in your belly spreading through your body as he rams into you, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing along the walls of the tiny room. His fingers press harder into your clit, pinching softly, and then circling again. 

His cock twitches inside you. “Me too, beautiful,” he hums, his pace growing sloppier, his cock throbbing again. “You’re so perfect,” he praises. “Love you so much, pretty girl.”

And then the tension snaps, electricity buzzing through your nerve endings, fire prickling your skin as you melt into him. “Love you too, Lo.” Your muscles contract and release, squeezing around him, coming undone. 

Your walls clench around him again, and you know it’ll be the thing that pushes him over the edge. “Fuck, wanna come inside you,” he pants.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Please,” you beg, and with one more thrust he’s painting your walls, filling you up and letting go. 

You share one breath, panting, foreheads pressed together as Logan’s pumps slow, his cock stalling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his arms reaching under your back as he carefully pulls out. You feel empty without him inside you. 

“Y-you can stay inside, if you want,” you offer as Logan rolls you onto your side, pulling you into his chest. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his lips pressing to your nose now. 

“Yes,” you whisper. He swallows harshly as one of his hands slides down your body, hiking your leg up and over his hip. He lines his half-hard cock up with your entrance, his lips finding yours as he slides back in. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of being full of him again. 

He groans as he bottoms out. “So fucking good,” he praises, his arms wrapping around your back again, tugging you into his chest. 

You lay in comfortable silence, listening as Logan’s breathing becomes rhythmic. Your eyes grow heavy, and you bury your face into Logan’s chest. You can hear his heart beating.

“Love you,” he mumbles against the crown of your head. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice, the exhaustion. 

“Love you too,” you whisper, your breathing matching his, like you’re no longer two separate people, but one.

He presses a kiss to your head. “So lucky I met you,” he huffs. You smile against him. “So lucky I finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He smiles down at you. “What love is supposed to feel like...” He trails off, and you watch as he chooses his next words. “What living is supposed to feel like.” 

You can feel tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away. “Me too, Lo,” you whisper, pausing…

“Me too.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @fanfic-writing-barbie @pedrohoe04 @cosmiccandydreamer @movhoney @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @maniuplatour *as always, I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you*

[boysmentfs]

Stepbrother's Room.

Erick never liked the idea of going to live with his stepfather and stepbrother, but his mother thought differently, So here he is, living with his stepbrother and stepfather for 1 month now.

The ideas he had about James (his stepfather) changed a lot since he started living with him, he no longer found him stressful or grumpy, But Gio (his stepbrother) made his life difficult, whenever he crossed paths with him he would make fun of him, calling him a faggot, 4 eyes and all those cliché insults.

But that was not the worst, Erick endured all the insults, the worst was yet to come when his mother and stepfather said that he was going to stay with his stepbrother since they were going on their honeymoon, Erick didn't want this to happen. now just imagining that it would only be the two of them alone, Erick began to tremble.

The day arrived, his mother and stepfather packed and left the two boys at home, Gio turned to look at Erick while smiling at him and giving him a grimace.

"They're really crazy if they think I'm staying with you, you f*ggot freak"

Gio commented as he got up from the couch and walked out the door, leaving Erick alone watching TV.

"Better for me, home alone and without having to put up with you"

Erick commented in a low tone while Gio closed the door.

The hours passed, Erick finished watching TV, ate alone, washed his dishes and that's how he went to sleep knowing that tomorrow he wouldn't see Gio either until his parents arrived, He went to bed with a smile and closed his eyes.

The night passed and the day began to shine, the sun began to set through the window as the clock rang, Erick yawned, wiped his eyes and got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom, It was time to take a shower since he didn't do it yesterday because he was lazy.

Once he finished showering, he went to his closet to put on his favorite outfit, a blue shirt, his short red shorts, and his boxers, but when he looked for his clothes he couldn't find anything and wrinkled his face.

"Mom must have made a mistake and put my clothes in that idiot's room... Damn it" Erick cursed as he went to Gio's room, when he opened the door the smell of hormones, exercise, and sweat invaded his nose.

But what surprised Erick the most was that there were no clothes lying around and everything was in order, Erick knew that Gio was the typical dumb straight jock so why was his room so clean and tidy?

He shook his head, he didn't come for that, he just came to get his clothes, but something was calling his attention, on his bed there was a transparent male thong and a toy, so Erick approached.

When he grabbed the toy he was surprised, it was a rubber sex toy from a woman's intimate part, he grabbed the thong and smelled it, it had the smell of Gio, Even though he was his stepbrother, Erick began to fall in love with Gio, and how could he not? Gio was tall, muscular, bearded, and had just turned 25 years old.

The moment Erick smelled Gio's thong he head started to spin and a heat began to grow in him while his small 5-centimeter cock became erect and hard, His head moved on its own as Erick looked at Gio's toy, he climbed onto the bed and sat down as he began to insert his cock into the fake rubber entrance.

His hands began to rise with the toy between them as Erick moaned in pleasure but he knew something was wrong, He would never get excited by seeing a sex toy, much less a p*ssy he was homosexual, not heterosexual, He tried to stop but it was as if his hands were moving on their own.

""Fuck... No, this-this is wrong... But.. DAMN IT, this feels so good" Erick commented between moans and gasps.

While Erick had his eyes closed, his body began to change, his feet began to grow in size until they reached a large 16 size, while a masculine smell came out of them and hair too.

His legs and thighs also underwent a change, his once thin legs were now full of muscles, they looked like trunks, capable of breaking a watermelon, A layer of hair also came out on them.

His buttocks, which were of a normal size, began to enlarge as his hole began to close, No one would ever put a cock in his ass again, now he had two buttocks like bubbles, big and firm.

His stomach started to burn as all the baby fat he had started to disappear to make way for a well-worked, firm and desired 6-pack of abs.

His chest, which was thin and flaccid, began to expand outwards as two large and sensitive pectorals began to emerge, he now had 2 large pectorals created by the gods.

His torso began to expand as well to give him a more masculine, more jock look.

Erick wasn't realizing this, the only thing he had in mind was feeling that toy p*ssy around his hard cock.

His back began to expand to give him a more manly and mature look, while muscles also began to emerge on it, his shoulders also lengthened.

His biceps and arms began to change, his biceps began to enlarge to look like the size of balls and his arms began to fill with hair while now his veins were more noticeable.

His hands began to grow larger as he held the toy, his fingers lengthening as they now looked more masculine, while veins also popped out.

His Adam's apple became more noticeable, making his moans more manly and masculine.

Next was his face, it started to change and his bones started to crack as his whole face changed, His jaw became slimmer and more defined, his lips grew a little in size while his nose was now cuter, his eyes that were green changed to a brown color, A 5 o'clock beard started to appear on his jaw making him look hotter and more handsome.

His hair that was almost blonde in color began to lose its shine as a new color began to bloom in his hair, a brown color, His haircut also changed, giving it a more masculine and jock cut.

His Adam's apple stood out, making his moans sound much more mature and masculine, when he heard his new voice he opened his eyes, he recognized this voice as Gio's voice.

The moment he saw the mirror in front of him, he was surprised, there was Gio jerk off in his bed, but... Gio was not at home, there was only him.

"What the fuck!? Gio? What's going on?" Erick commented while continuing to jerk off.

But before Erick could react, he saw his cock grow larger and thicker as he was about to break the toy.

"No... It can't be, I can't be Gio, I can't be that idiot!

But just then he came inside the fake p*ssy, causing his past self to come out along with his c*m.

"FUCK... That felt so fucking great... Ryan didn't lie to me that a fake p*ssy was better than a real one, good thing that freak f*ggot isn't here, house to myself"

gio took his cock out of the toy, he cleaned and got out of bed putting on his thong, Once he put on his thong he sat back down on his bed waiting for his stepbrother to arrive so he could continue harassing him.

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Dead of Night - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer stumbles upon a secret dark fantasy of reader’s and does everything he can to be the one to fulfill it.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written anything with themes like this so feedback is definitely appreciated. Not proofread cuz this is long and I’m tired ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I fully understand if the themes included in this are not for some of my regular readers and I encourage you to scroll if you’re not comfortable with any of the following warnings.

TW: perv!spencer, dom!spencer, mask kink, knife play, blood, dubcon, kind of cnc but it’s emphasized repeatedly that reader initiates and is in control of what is taking place, unprotected sex, penetration, creampie, degradation (slut), pet names (doll, angel) religious imagery, gun mention, std testing mention, fem + afab reader, soulmate talk

Rating: R, 18+

——

You knew it was wrong, you’d seen just how easily Penelope was able to track someone down through their “anonymous” profile on websites just like this one, but your desires got the better of you, and you just had to try.

Your profile was nondescript, your age, a vague physical description of yourself, and a link to a meticulously detailed account of your wildest fantasies. After weeks of back and forth, chatting with a few equally nondescript profiles, you found the one that you really clicked with, the stranger you decided you’d let sneak into your window and do whatever he wanted with you. After an std panel and the agreement of your safe word, you decided to fully commit, sending this complete stranger your address and logging off for the night.

Even though you knew this was a stupid idea, you weren’t a complete idiot, you had plans in case anything went south, including placing your handgun in your bedside table for easy access if you, god-forbid, had to use it. Placing yourself in a high-risk situation was the whole point, and you couldn’t wait to see how it turned out.

You spent the remainder of your afternoon preparing, doing every grooming ritual you’d usually do before a date, but this time felt somehow more important. You didn’t even know what this guy looked like, and yet, you wanted to be the picture of beauty for him. It was silly, but you always pictured yourself the prettiest you’d ever been when you daydreamed about being ravaged by a stranger. You wanted to be completely irresistible in every way, and you were doing everything in your power to accomplish that.

As the sun finally set, your excitement levels began to rise, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your masked suitor. You opened the bedroom window just above your fire escape, the cool night air drawing goosebumps over your exposed skin, only a thin lace slip and matching panties adorning your frame. You crawled into bed, double checking your bedside drawer before pulling your comforter over your body, eagerly drifting off to sleep.

—

Spencer had been keeping a secret, one that he did not want you to know about, until today. A few weeks ago he’d stayed late to finish up some paperwork for the last case you’d been on, when his pen ran out of ink just as he was about to sign off the last document. He walked to your empty desk, reaching across it to grab a pen from the cup next to your monitor, when his arm brushed against your mouse, causing your display to light up.

He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but curiosity got the best of him, scanning through the title of each tab open on your browser until a certain website caught his eye. He went against his better judgment and clicked the tab, his jaw dropping upon viewing your profile, and with it, the graphic description of your sexual proclivities. His brain immediately cemented that information in his mind’s eye, fit to torture him for days after the encounter.

He couldn’t stop picturing himself fulfilling all of those desires for you, having to excuse himself to the bathroom several times a day to take care of the bulge in his pants just from being around you. He eventually bit the bullet, creating his own profile on the website and messaging you as an “anonymous” suitor, beyond pleased when the two of you hit it off. He felt bad not telling you, but this was a means to an end that would surely leave you both satisfied, and the devious part of him won out this time.

He did everything you asked, getting tested so he could fuck you raw, he was apprehensive about the risks of a potential pregnancy even without the fear of std transmission, but the way you begged so beautifully in your messages for him to creampie you was more than enough to convince him. The moment he got your message with your address, he went out and purchased a mask to conceal his identity just like you asked, and anxiously waited for nightfall.

—

The graze of fabric against your skin gently woke you as your bedding was pulled down off of your body, your mind clouded from the deep sleep you’d been sunk in seconds before. You rolled onto your back, starting to lift your head until a large hand clamped over your mouth, forcing your head back down onto your pillow. Your eyes widened, darting around the room before settling on the masked figure on top of you. You tried to scream against his palm, but the sound simply reverberated back against you, muffled by his strong grip.

His free hand made quick work of cutting off your slip, the thin fabric splitting easily against the blade of the knife in his grasp. You struggled underneath him, weakly pushing at his strong shoulders, feigning defense as the heartbeat in your cunt grew stronger by the second. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you feel almost high.

“Don’t fight it.” He hushed, holding the knife flush against your neck. You slowed your movements, settling for shifting your legs against his. He removed his hand from your mouth, freeing it up to gather your hands to pin them above your head as well as give you an opportunity to use your safe-word if need be.

He trailed the knife down your body, your chest heaving with shaky breaths as the blade scratched a small cut between your breasts, warm droplets of blood forming in it’s wake. He followed the curve of your body, leaving shallow kitten scratches until he reached your hip, using the tip of the knife to carve a heart into your skin. The sting of each movement set every nerve ending in your body on fire, the wetness pooling between your thighs increasing by the second.

He pressed his thumb to the wound, smearing the blood down to the waistband of your panties, using the digit to pull the fabric before letting it snap back against your skin. You gasped, your labored breaths growing more desperate as he brought the blade to slice the fabric, exposing your embarrassingly wet cunt.

“Look at how wet you are, you love this, don’t you?” The condescension in his tone felt almost half-hearted, and the more of his voice you heard, the more familiar he started to sound, but you couldn’t quite place why. You looked down at him, watching his every move as you tried to place him.

He set the knife on the bed, using his now free hand to yank his pants down, his hard cock slapping against his thigh. Your eyes went wide at his size, looking just long and thick enough to have you a little worried about being able to take him raw, but the thought of being stretched to your limits sent another wave of arousal straight to your core and helped quell that fear ever so slightly.

“If you don’t want this, just say the word.” His words dripped from his lips like honey, sickly sweet, and in that moment you had never felt more sure of your desire for anything in your life.

—

Spencer wondered if the way he was feeling was akin to that of religious psychosis, so engulfed in your very being that he ought to worship at your altar for the rest of his life, fit to carry out any act you requested of him.

His brain kept your description of your fantasy scrolling in the back of his mind, catering to everything you had written to a T in hopes of making this a night you’d never forget. The only thing at the forefront of his thoughts, however, was the intoxicating sounds you made every time he gripped or marked your skin. Each note sought to pull his focus, threatening his plan as it tempted him to lose control all together. He couldn’t do that, his conscience too righteous in its goal to keep you as pleased as possible.

He took his time, marking you just the way you’d requested, his cock twitching with every whimper that flowed out of you until he finally reached your core, the lace of your underwear glistening under the moonlight cast through your open window from how wet you were. He wanted to sink fully into you without a care in the world, but he had to make sure this was absolutely what you wanted. He was, to your knowledge, a stranger after all, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable in any way.

—

You frantically shook your head in acknowledgment, spreading your legs wider for him, ready for this tall stranger to finally be inside of you. Your eagerness spurred him on, a surge of confidence washing over him as he let go of your wrists, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you further down the bed. He lifted your legs so your knees rested atop his shoulders, his rough movements making you gasp.

He brought his cock to your core, running the shaft through your slick folds before slapping the head against your clit a few times, the repeated hits making your hips jolt ever so slightly. He hummed low in the back of his throat, lining up his tip with your entrance before thrusting forward, bottoming out inside of you in one fell swoop.

“You’re so tight.” He grunted, one hand holding an iron grip on your thigh to hold your leg up, the other digging fingerprints into your hip. You gasped once more at the intrusion, feeling more full than ever before as he set a steady but unrelenting pace. Your gasp turned to crying moans, brows furrowed in awe at the way his cock stretched you so deliciously, prominent veins rubbing against the contours of your sensitive walls.

Each snap of his hips had his balls slapping against your ass, the lude sound mixing with his grunts and the wet squelching where your bodies met in the most intimate way, the decibel level in the room reaching an all-time high.

You bit your lip, trying to quiet yourself to at least somewhat lower the noise and not disturb your sleeping neighbors, but the absence of your desperate moans was not lost on him. His pace slowed, his left hand firmly gripping your chin to force you to look at his masked face. His eyes met yours through the thin slit in the dark fabric.

You knew those eyes, those big, soft brown irises, so comforting, yet darker than you recognized, pupils far more blown than you’d ever seen before. You knew him, but there was no way. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you, because there was no way that Spencer Reid would do anything this perverse, let alone with you.

“Louder, slut.” He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lower lip out from under your bite.

“I-I’m not a slut.” You mumbled, barely above a whisper.

“Only a slut would leave her bedroom window open, practically begging a stranger to come in and fuck her.” This was far too brazen to be Spencer, you thought, a level of blunt confidence you’d never in a million years expect from him.

“I-I didn’t mean to.” You stuttered over your words, raising your voice in an attempt to half heartedly defend your actions.

“Well then, you should really be more careful next time.” He laughed, releasing his grip on your face before playfully slapping your cheek and increasing the pace of his thrusts, his now free hand finding your clit. His calloused thumb drew broad strokes over and over and over against your sensitive bundle of nerves, a knot tightening in your stomach as you drew closer and closer to your release. You turned your head, trying to bury your face in the pillow as you writhed underneath him, your body frantically looking for relief.

“Oh don’t be shy doll, let me see how much you’re enjoying this.” His tone was almost sing-song, clearly enjoying this just as much as you were. He pressed his body down closer to yours, almost pinning your thighs against your stomach, the change in angle forcing a borderline scream from your lungs, crying out strangled ‘uh’s with every stroke. You looked him in the eye, desperate to know if this deity above you could possibly be your nerdy coworker, and every interaction you’d had with him flashed before your eyes.

Every fleeting glance he took at your chest or your ass, the way he lingered behind you in the field, feeling his presence even when you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t think of a time he wasn’t around a corner when you turned it, always near whenever you needed his help on a case. You always secretly hoped he'd make a move sooner or later, but you never thought it would be anything like this.

He was omnipotent, knowing exactly how to make you feel things you’d never felt before, pushing your body to levels of pleasure you never thought possible. You thought you might disappear, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to make sense of everything, finally understanding why the French refer to orgasms as the little death.

Your walls fluttered around him, the sounds leaving you reduced to pathetic whimpers as your vocal chords grew strained.

“That’s it, cum on my cock, angel.” He groaned, his thrusts growing increasingly desperate. The pet name surprised you, but if he saw you as an angel, how fitting considering how godlike he felt to you in that moment. You could tell he was close, and if your orgasm was what would get him to cum inside you, then so be it. Your eyes glazed over, your hands clawing at his back as you chanted ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ like a mantra, wave after wave of euphoria washing over every nerve in your body.

—

Spencer was a man possessed, his primal urges leaving his mind completely uninhibited, so lost in your body that he thought he might need divine intervention to ever leave you.

He didn’t quite understand where the sudden dominant urge coursing through his veins had come from, but he didn’t care to dwell too much on the thought, content to fuck you into the mattress until you screamed his name.

He knew that wouldn’t happen, but he secretly hoped you’d realize who he was, wishing for nothing more than for you to want him for him. His heart felt like it may burst at the thought, the desire to be wanted as he was ever-lingering inside of it, that being the very motivation behind his lingering tendencies from the start.

As your heat contracted around him, he felt an embrace like no other, hoping the myth of twin flames to be true. If this connection wasn’t proof of it, how could he rationally explain anything? He knew the scientific reasoning behind it, but it didn’t feel like enough, such a finite explanation for a feeling so sempiternal.

He wondered if you felt the same way too, so lost in his every desire that he let himself dive into the delusion, using the pet name he wished he could call you every day for eternity.

Your chants and cries as you came set him free, his hips stuttering as he finally filled your aching cunt to the brim with his seed. He hovered above you, catching his breath, watching your expression soften as you rode out your orgasm, practically glowing.

When he finally snapped out of his lust-fueled haze, he fully remembered his role, pulling out of you and quickly scrambling to stand, fixing his pants and underwear. You had agreed to his departure after, and as badly as he wanted to hold you until you drifted off to sleep, he respected your wishes more than his wants. He walked to the window, lifting his leg to climb out of it when you cleared your throat, drawing his attention. He turned, seeing you sit up, hazy smile on your face.

“Thank you.” You sighed, and he gave a nod of acknowledgement before slipping out of the window and into the night.

—

When you awoke, you had a couple minutes of doubt in which you thought the events of the night before had all been a dream, until you moved to get out of bed and winced at sting from the shallow marks adorning your body and the dull ache between your legs. You smiled to yourself, before looking at your phone and realizing what time it was. You were going to be late, and panic set in when you realized you’d have to go to work in the makeup you’d fallen asleep in last night.

You rushed out the door, checking your makeup in a compact mirror in your car, wiping a small bit of smudged mascara off of your brow bone before walking into work.

“Fun night?” Derek quipped as you walked through the doors, always the first to poke fun at your perceived escapades.

“You could say that.” You laughed, setting your handbag on your desk before joining the team to walk to the conference room.

“What happened?” Penelope asked, almost panicked, taking your arm in her hand and pointing to the only visible cut on your body.

“Oh that’s nothing, I just scraped my arm on my car door.” You reassured, smiling at her. As much as you loved your best friend, she didn’t need to know the truth of your little white lie.

“You should really be more careful next time.” Spencer’s voice came from behind you, his hand gently resting on your hip before squeezing right where the heart shaped cut from the night before was inlaid in your skin. His words reverberated in the space between your ears as your brain processed what he’d just said.

Realization hit you like a semi truck, your lips parting in shock. Your suspicions had been correct, and you almost wanted to turn around and kiss then interrogate him right there. You couldn’t do that though, having a full work day in front of both of you.

Now you just had to figure out a time and place to broach the subject with him without completely humiliating yourself.

——

part 2 can be found here

tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[whxrecruxxes]

RUFFLED SHEETS - cl16

pairing- charles leclec x fem!reader warning- smutttt ( wrap it before you tap it pooks) , dirty words (frenchie french) porn with no plot :) lowk reader's first time riding ??? idk yall does that count genre- established relationship summary- missing charles when he's away is a recurrent feeling. question is, what happens when he comes home to find you in his shirt ? this is not proofread sorry for any mistakes english is not my first language les copains :)

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · keep reading !! · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

It was no surprise that you were alone for yet another weekend. Not that you minded it, it felt nice to be alone sometimes. But you had to admit, spending the weekend with Charles was always more fun than watching him spend his weekend without you on the TV.

You were sat on your couch, the blanket draped over your knees, your eyes heavy with sleep, Charles shirt heavy on your shoulders. Miami was always the toughest race for you to keep up with, seeing as though the time difference with Monaco was always so huge. But you stuck through, and in the end it was worth it, because you got to see Lando cross the line first for the first time in his career, and you got to see your boyfriend bring it home third. From the look on his face, you could tell he was happy for Lando, but that p3 was not the result he was expecting- nor hoping for. You shot Lando a quick congrats text, who responded with a flurry of misspelled, clearly drunken texts of different variations of the words "thank you, love you, wish you could've been there" instead reading "tjanl yio, lobe yiu, qisj yio xouldvr beem tjete". It took you a while to decipher it, but when you finally did, it brought a soft smile to your face. It was obvious the young boy you had gotten close to had not even waited a minute after that podium to go out with his friends and celebrate. Your phone buzzes by your side as you yawn, cracking your neck. You pick our phone up and squint your tired eyes at the screen.

"I'll be home by tomorrow night, ma chérie. Je t'aime, fait de beaux rèves." I love you, sweet dreams. You read out loud, rubbing your eyes. You got up from the couch and switched the tv off and ventured into your room, craving the comfort of your bed. Charles's shirt reached far enough down to the middle of your thighs, so you had assumed when you slipped it on hours ago (after remembering he had left his signature red shirt here as he didn't need it because of the blue shirts for miami) that you didn't need shorts, and now was no different, so you simply slid into bed and cuddled yourself into your pillow and letting yourself succumb into sleep.

When Charles walks in, almost twelve hours early because he was planning on surprising you by getting the first flight home, the sun hadn't even gone up yet. The apartment is quiet when he steps in, and he expected you to be asleep on the couch, still watching the TV. He's confused when he doesn't spot you, dropping his bags by the doorway and venturing further into the apartment, and when he finally reaches the room, he carefully pries it open. The moonlight is gushing in through the windows, illuminating your body. Your hair is sprawled over your back, your shoulders rising softly in sleep. Charles smiles at your sleeping state, quickly, ridding himself of any airport sullied clothes and slipping in next to you, his chest bare, sweatpants hanging low on his waist. At the sudden dip of the mattress beside you, you jolt awake, turning to face him.

The look on your face makes his heart melt.

You look so tired, but so happy to see him. Your eyes light up, and he practically melts into your touch as your hands find his cheeks and you sling a thigh over his middle, humming softly as his arms bunch up around your waist.

"Hi, mon amour. Surprise." He whispers, kissing his aw down your jaw. You push at his back with your heel, humming softly.

"Charlie ? I missed you." You mutter, burying your hands in those soft brown curls of his.

"I caught the first flight back. Needed to see my girl." He says, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He grimaces, his nose scrunching as he notices an odd smell on your body. His cologne, mixed with sweat and another mixture of things that you like about his scent. He frowns.

"Why do you smell like me ?" He asks, his voice soft against your ears. He softly pulls away from you, the darkness in the room making him squint. He turns on the bedside light, sending the slightest glow emmenating around the room, and finally illuminating your body. The sheets have bunched up near the apex of your thighs, revealing the soft black material of your lingerie and finally his shirt, resting on your shoulders. His number, splayed over your chest, the fabric stretching in a heavenly way around your breasts.

Charles heard his breath catch in the back of his throat. Sleepy and craving to hide your eyes from the light, you whimper and shift from side to side, the shirt hiking up to reveal he ruffled hem of the lingerie resting on your hips.

"I missed you." You repeat again as an answer, humming as you closed your eyes.

"Putain." Fuck. He mutters, gulping heavily. "Is that- Are you wearing my shirt ?" This makes your eyes open. There was so something to primal in his eyes. Seeing you in his shirt, proudly wearing his humber, knowing you were probably cheering him on and seeing the way the fabric of the shirt stretch over his favorite part of you- stroked something deep within him, ever ounce of blood leaving his head to rush between his legs.

"Do you not like it ? I can take it off." You whispered. The ferrari red brought out your flushed complexion, and Charles felt his pants grow uncomfortably tight.

"I'f i'd have known you were waiting for me here, like this.." His finger finds the apex of the your thighs, slipping his finger between the tiny gap, stroking the soft, subtle skin. "I would've come home earlier." He mutters, and you smile at him softly.

"If you hadn't left, you could've had seen me like this all weekend." You mutter, although you know he could never stop racing. He smiles teasingly at you, rolling his eyes. You sit up, the shirt falling down to your thighs, yawning.

"I need the bathroom. Be right back, baby." You breathe out, getting to your feet after pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His jaw almost drops, and the tightness in his pants grows. The number and red on your body seems to be made for you, and Charles has to bite back a primitive growl. When you emerge from the bathroom, the heavy lidded look of your eyes looks like you've been fucked out, and Charles sits up fully. You sit in front of him, kneeling at the foot of the bed as you tuck your hair behind your ears.

"You did really good today. P3." You say, smiling softly at him. He simply just nods, his chest heaving. You frown at his lack of answer, not noticing his eyes glue to your chest, to his number on your body. It's like he's finally staked his claim to you, and it makes his heart swell. You smile confusedly at his dazed expression.

"Charlie ? Are you okay ?" You ask, leaning forward, your arms pressing your breasts together. He gulps heavily, holding his hand out for you.

"Lemme look at you." You slide over, expecting him to be all soft and cute like he usually is when he's sleepy, but boy were you wrong. He guides you over his lap, forcing you down to straddle it as he inspects you.

"Fucking hell. You look hot in red. Why have you never worn this before ?" He asks, running his calloused hands over your thighs, the cold of his rings burning your skin.

"Because you're always wearing it ?" You reply teasingly, fingers mindlessly drawing out the sahpe of his abs and muscles.

"Ma belle fille.." My pretty girl. You blush furiously, smiling softly as he traces the apex of your thighs with his hands. You rub your eyes tiredly, craving to cuddle into him and sleep, but the way he's looking up at you, his hands grasping you tight, it makes a rumble start up in your stomach. He's looking at you like a man starved. I mean it's not as if he's never seen you wear red. But something about you, in his shirt, makes him hungry.

"Why ? Do you like it ?" You counter his question, giggling softly. His eyes almost bulge out of his head.

"Like it ? Amour, I love it. You are never taking this off. " You smile softly, cocking a questioning eyebrow.

"Never ? Don't you have to wear this in Imola ?" he shakes his head, licking his lips again.

"Were you wearing this when i crossed the finish line ?" He asks, softly swerving your question. You nod, smiling softly. He chuckles, his hands slipping up the shirt and caressing your ribs, his thumbs grazing right along side the underside of your breasts.

"Well then i'll tell Fred we're keeping the blue. You're wearing this at every race weekend from now on- My lucky charm." The words send a blush rising to your cheeks, and he laughs. "Really ? That's what gets you going ? I have worse i can say, bébé." He says, his eyes still trained on his number on the shirt, making you roll your eyes. Charles knew the effect his words had on you, and he was not afraid to use it. Wether in was to rile you up when you two were out with the rest of the grid, or when you were in the privacy of your home or his driver's room.

"And with you on top of me, looking like this.. I have a few ideas." He mutters, before his face dives down to bury itself in your neck, his lips nipping at the sot skin right below your jaw. You bite back a breathy moan as your hand comes flying up to grab his hair, the covers bunched up around both of you. Your hips roll instinctively against his as he continues to suck at your skin, inevitability leaving bright red marks along your jaw and collarbone, sure to mark you for everyone to see- And he was going to make sure everyone would see. You could already see the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out where to mark you so people would know you were his next time you even set foot in the paddock. His hands travel up to fully grasp your breasts, his thumps pinching the pebbled peaks, this time eliciting a whimper from the back of your throat. He smirks against your skin.

"There it is." He whispers, before pulling away from your neck, his hands leaving your breasts, slipping up to cup your cheeks. His lips smash down against yours, catching them in a rough dance, his hands blindly reaching down to push the fabric on your panties to the side, running his finger against your folds. When he's met with the obvious wetness and slick already coating you and spreading across your thighs, and audible groan is heard from your boyfriend, kissing you with a new fervour.

"T'est déjà prête pour moi, hein, ma belle ?" You're already ready for me, huh, pretty girl ? He teases, the accent rolling off his tongue as he pulls away to observe the way your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his thumb pressing down on you clit as two of his fingers stretch you out with no warning. Your hands fly up to grip his bare shoulders at the sudden intrusion, a pained whimper leaving your lips as you bite your full bottom lip between your teeth.

"So wet f'me.. Only for me. Where do you want me, amour ?" He asks, slowly and teasingly kissing your breasts through the shirt. You whimper.

"L-Like this." You manage, gulping down the moans bubbling up your throat as his fingers brush against that spot he knows would make you come undone.

"You want to ride me, bébé ?" He asks, smiling against your skin. You nod frantically, unable to contain the shake in your thighs as his thumb continues to assault your clit.

"Tes mots, ma chérie. Utlise tes mots." Your words, darling. Use your words. He instructs, clearly not wanting to use your fucked out state to his own gain.

That's the thing about Charles.

He may be a huge fucking tease, but he will always double check before dong anything he thinks might hurt you in any way. Especially in these situations, when your need for him would be too overwhelming and your thoughts wouldn't process normally, and sometimes you would say thins you didn't mean just to get him to touch you. So when you notice that twinge of doubt in his eyes as he looks up at you, you gulp down whatever moan or cry of his name was about to emerge and lovingly kiss his cheek, trying your best to keep your orgasm at bay.

"I want to ride you, Charlie." You manage, before his thumb gives your clit another appreciative rub and you crumble, body going slack against his as your body convulses, your walls fluttering around his fingers. He kisses you through the high, letting you ride it out before your hips still and he takes that as his sign. He retracts his fingers from you, lapping them up with his tongue, and you gasp as he smiles.

"You ready for me, mon cœur ?" He asks, softly moving himself underneath you to tug down his sweats. Eagerly, you help him shimmy them off, watching as his cock slaps up against his abdomen. You practically drool, at the sight, and move to take the shirt off. Charles shakes his head, licking his lips.

"No. Don't. Keep it on." He says, a hungry glare in his eyes. Fucking you with his number on him seems to seem more appealing to him than touching your breasts- which is usually his favourite part. But there's something in his eyes that makes it so hard to deny him. So you simply nod and drop your hands back down, softly bunching the shirt up around your waist so he can see what he's doing. His hands find the lace of your underwear again, fully shoving it to the side before softly placing you right above his length. He pushes you down, stopping when your pained whimpers feel the air, your nails digging into his chest.

"Woah, you got it, baby." He breathes, reaching up to brush your hair out of your face. "We can stop if you want to, amour. I don't want you to get hurt." He's barely halfway inside you, and he's already worried about hurting you. You shake your head, letting yourself sink down a little more and wiggle your hips to try and let yourself adjust to his girth, stretching you out from a new angle. He pushes your underwear further to the side, his hands balled around the shirt. When you finally sink down fully, the room is met with synchronized moans from the both of you.

'Fuck, chérie. Taking me so good." He praises as your hips start to instinctively roll above his. HIs hands push up the shirt, so that your stomach is revealed, leaving only the number on your breasts exposed. He groans as the bounce with your every roll, the number jutting out as if to further shove it in his face, that you are his. Your hands are splayed on his chest, gasping as you feel him poke his way into your stomach. He smirks at your desperate whimpers.

"What's wrong, darling ?"

"S'not enough." You whine, your hips stuttering. His hands guide you along, but it doesn't seem enough to push you further towards your edge. His brows furrow in worry. You whimper again, your hands balling into fists above his bare chest.

"Please, Charlie." You whimper, your head thrown back, sweat covering your skin, his hands coming to a still around your hips. His hand reaches around your back and pins your hips down against him. He holds you still, earning a whine of protest from you. he kisses up your chest, shaking his head as you try to roll your hips again.

"Shhh, non mon amour. Bouge pas. Let me take care of you." No my love, don't move. He whispers against your skin, finally letting go of your shirt, the material dropping back down to bunch up around your waist. He holds you still, before thrusting his hips up to meet yours.

"Better ?" He asks, his chest caving with every heavy breath that fills his chest, the only thing edging him on are your desperate whimpers. Your own hips start rolling again, and his head is thrown back, a low groan leaving his lips.

"Ah, fuck. So pretty. So tight. Just f'me." His words bring heat up to your cheeks, feeling his cock brush against that knot of nerves that is yet to be untangled.

"God, Charles." You cry, his hands trailing up and past the shirt to grab your breasts underneath the rough material of his shirt. He palms them, smiling as you whimper once again, leaning into his touch. His hips keep on bucking up to meet your rolls, and he can tell you're already getting close. The urge to have you pinned under him, ready for him, is overwhelming,. With no warning, he twists the two of your around, splaying your thighs open onto the bed, your hands gripping his shoulders in shock. His hips meet yours at a furious, hungry pace.

"God, you drive me crazy." He groans as his lips find your neck and leaves marks atop the already present ones. "Sleeping in my shirt, wearing my number.. it's like you're trying to get me to fuck you." He groans, a slight chuckle leaving his lips. You whimper, your hands digging into his shoulder blades.

"Fuck, i missed you so much." You whimper, tears flying up to your eyes. His hips snap against yours harder at your words, stealing the whimpers from your lips.

"I missed you more, fuck you have no idea. Tu m'a tellemment manqué." I missed you so much. He moans, his hips stuttering. You bite back a moan, your head thrown back as he pushes your thighs further apart, making you whine.

"God, please. Please, Cha, i'm so close." You whimper, gasping for air, the shirt tight around you. He pull back only slightly, gripping your thighs and dragging him closer to you. His hand wraps around your neck to tilt your head up, licking his lips.

"Vas-y, amour." Go ahead, love. "Show me how good i make you feel." His words seem to be the only thing your body obliges to, and your body convulses under him as you come all over him, whimpering loudly as your back arches off the bed. His body falls forward, pushing up your shirt to wrap his full lips around one of your breasts, making you moan loudly as he continues to push himself in and out of you at a steady pace. HIs free hand is still pushing your thigh open and flat on the bed, and he tries to ignore how it shakes and how you cry out in overstimulation as he tries his best to push you to another limit, not wanting to hurt you in his selfish need for release.

"Charlie, please, i can't-" You beg, your body shaking as tears fall past your eyes. He shushes you, pain blooming in his chest at your cries.

"Shh, i know baby, i know. Just one more for me, okay ?" He groans as your walls flutter around him, clearly already primed and ready for another. You nod frantically, feeling the tension build up in you stomach again. You hands drift down to his waist, grabbing it and pushing him towards you.

"Putain de merde." Fucking hell. "You're going to be the death of me, baby." He praises, his hips stuttering.

"Fuck, i'm close, do you want me to-"

"Inside." You gasp, feeling your own orgasm reach you, the third one of the night. The breathy sound of your voice has his toppling and he empties himself inside of you, moaning your name loudly as his eyes flutter closed. You whine as he pushes his shirt back down your chest, the emptiness between your legs evident. He kisses your face, slipping his own boxers on before grabbing a towel from the chair near your bed and baling it up, softly dragging it along your thighs. You whimper, squeezing your thighs together. He brushes your hair away from your eyes, softly shushing you as he spreads your thighs open again and proceeds with cleaning you up.

“Shhh, it’s okay, mom cœur. It’s okay.” He whispers, kissing the tears away. When he finally pushed your underwear back into place, he slides next to you and pulls you into his arms. He kisses your forehead, sighing heavily as you sniffle into his chest.

“I really did miss you.” You mutter, running your hands along his muscles. He smiles, looking down at you.

“I know, bébé. I missed you too. I wish you could’ve been there, cheering for me.” You giggle.

“You know i had to work, Charlie. I would’ve dropped everything to be there if my boss had given me the days off. P3.. That’s a great result.” He grimaces at the praise. You frown.

“What ?”

“P3 is not a great result- it’s just a result.” You sit up, glaring down at him, trying to ignore the pain in your legs.

“Hey.. P3 is a good result. It’s just the beginning, you can only get better from here, and i’m sure you will. I mean P2 in the sprint is already amazing.” You praise, and he smiles.

“See, this is why i need you at races. You’re such a better pep talker than Xavi and all the others.” You roll your eyes and lower yourself down next to him, sighing as you rest your head on his chest.

“If you get me a job, maybe i could be there every weekend.” He laughs, the rumble making your heart soar.

“I’ll see what i can do, amour. Anything to have you there with me.”

The rest of the night is spent laughing and him telling you about his weekend, pure and unfiltered like the TV would show you- and you make a mental note.

If you ever have to spend the weekend away from him again- which wasn’t bound to happen often- you’d make sure to be wearing his shirt when he got home.

[chaconnehoonie]

Wet- L.HS

☼ Lee Heeseung x Fem Reader

Synopsis- As temperatures rise, so does Heeseung’s dick.

WC: 4k+

Warnings: smut, one(1) food play-ish scene, water gun fight, cursing, nothing too extreme it’s just pwp

Smut warnings: Verbal and physical teasing, kissing, oral(f), unprotected sex, creampies, voyeurism and they (kinda) get caught, pool/outdoor sex

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are accurate in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This was originally supposed to be written for Sunghoon but I can’t get over that picture of Heeseung so I changed my mind. Enjoy!

You’re so hot

The summer sun warms the exposed areas of skin, but your water soaked shirt keeps you cool in the one hundred degree weather. God damn the sun and its harsh rays—cursing the land with heat waves and rising temperatures that force you and your friends to find ways to cool off.

Heeseung can’t help but stare.

Even as he feels a stream of water hit the back of his head, he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Especially when Jake takes aim and pulls the trigger of his water gun to shoot straight at the center of your chest. God bless the sun.

“Alright, pervert! You got me.” You run a hand through your wet hair, laughing to yourself as you make your way towards your friends and knock water guns with Sunoo as a small celebration.

Jake shoots you one last time, whining about how unfair you play. “Seriously, how did you even get back there? I swear I checked thrice! I want to switch teams!” You poke the muscle of bicep that’s outlined by his own soaking wet shirt, teasing him for his terrible skills at his own game.

“Maybe you should’ve checked better.” With a click of your tongue you prance towards the pool, placing a palm upon the hot pavement to determine the heat. Heeseung watches as you stand up and pull your shirt off of yourself, back arching and neck rolling back as you peel the sticking fabric off of your body to reveal your bikini.

He admires the way you swiftly throw your shirt to the side, grabbing your beach towel and placing it next to the pool to sit on. Plopping yourself onto it, you dip your freshly painted toes into the water and splash them around.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Jay startles Heeseung from his trance, snapping his head to see the younger is now the only person standing next to him, a quirked eyebrow following his question. “I can’t.”

Heeseung replies simply, turning back just in time to notice Sunghoon handing you a small ice cream cone. He’s unable to focus for long as his attention is caught by Sunoo loudly laughing from the pool, where Jake is swimming around with an open mouth, begging Sunghoon to at least attempt to throw his own cone into his mouth from where he stands next to you.

“I don’t think Sunghoon would like that.” Heeseung sighs, shaking his head and deciding his own fate is to watch you from afar. To admire you from a distance.

But Jay wouldn’t let that happen. He doesn’t call himself “Heeseung’s number one wing man” for no reason, which is why he encourages his friend to go after you. Even if Sunghoon seems to be the only guy in your field of vision.

Of course, you’re just friends. At least that’s what you both claim. Heeseung doesn’t believe it though, in fact, he believes you two have been keeping it on the low. He’s created a whole fantasy relationship between his two friends— a fantasy that he isn’t a part of.

“Your first problem is not Sunghoon.” Jay brings up the topic once they’ve made their way into the cool house, alone. “The problem is you thinking there’s something going on between them.” Heeseung scoffs, taking a beer from Jay then turning his head to look at you through the window.

Your ice cream cone is melting in the hot sun, creamy liquid running through your fingers and down your forearm and Heeseung shivers. He’s always known he has a strong imagination, but with the visual stimulation right there; the suggestively colored desert leaving trails of itself down your arm, he can only imagine how his is own cream would adorn your body.

“Are you even listening?” Jay smacks his friend’s head, snapping him out of his scandalous fantasy. “You need to make a move. And I promise you Sunghoon won’t care. Sure, he’s a little protective but he’s your best friend too—he knows what’s best for both of you.”

Heeseung only pays attention to the first half of Jay’s rant, falling back into a trance as you finally lick a long stripe up your forearm, swapping your ice cream cone to the other hand to suck on your messy fingers. He only looks away when Sunghoon grabs your wrist and forces your fingers further down your throat and you gag for a second, then bring your ice cream and spit covered hand to the back of Sunghoon’s head, pushing him into the pool with Jake and Sunoo.

“You’re so right.” Heeseung’s voice is barely audible to Jay. “What-”before Jay can even question him, the older is patting him on the back and muttering a quick thanks you’re the best and rushing outside. Jay stands there for a second, sighs, then quickly entertains himself with an unopened bottle of vodka. He’ll pay Sunghoon back later.

You move your attention from the pool to the house just in time to see Heeseung sitting down next to you. You note that he looks nervous, maybe even shy, but you don’t say anything to humiliate him. Yet.

“Hi, Hee. What’s up?” You chirp out before bringing what’s left of your ice cream to your lips, licking a sensual stripe along the side. You don’t break eye contact with Heeseung as you twist the cone between your fingers, coating the entire expanse with your tongue.

Heeseung gulps, adam’s apple bobbing as he watches a drop of melted cream land on your chest, then can’t help but follow it with his eyes as it glides down your skin over your right breast, then between your breasts, and finally landing somewhere in the covered area of your bikini top.

As if he wasn’t just ogling your body, he looks back up to see you staring at him in amusement, and finally answers your question. “Nothing.”

You nod, smirking to yourself and quickly glancing towards all four of your friends now in the pool. “Nothing, huh?” You repeat and he nods eagerly.

“So what about that?” Your gaze drops to his lap, and only then does he realize how hard he’s gotten over this short interaction. “That seems pretty up to me.” You tease, letting out a giggle before abruptly standing up and stretching out the hand currently holding your ice cream.

Heeseung grabs the cone, confused but so love-struck that he’s barely processing anything at the moment. You push his hand closer to his mouth, watching as drops land onto the crotch of his swim trunks and he once again follows your gaze.

Grabbing his cheek with one hand and pushing the ice cream past his lips with the other, you smile widely at him. “Finish for me, yeah?”

.☼.

If yesterday really happened, then Heeseung is in a slight dilemma. After arriving home last night, he did finish for you. At least, he hopes that’s what you meant by finish. Perhaps you really did mean the yummy treat but he knows you. He knows your double meanings and your teasing jokes.

But this makes his situation all the worse. To anyone else, these interactions would have confirmed your requited feelings for Heeseung, but it’s you. You’re so confusing.

With the way you’re so teasing with everyone, and the way you show affection in questionable manners. Even the way you openly treat all and any of your friends as if they’re your boyfriend.

Heeseung remembers when Sunoo complimented the scent of your lip gloss, so in return you kissed him for a solid five seconds, stating that you “just wanted him to taste it”. Yeah, sure.

Or the time Jake wanted you to clean up his eyebrows for him, which resulted in you sitting in his lap for fifteen stiff minutes applying your entire skin care routine on him.

Whatever you have going on in your head, it confuses Heeseung. Which is why he decided he’s finally going to man up and ask you on a date at your daily pool hang out.

At least, he’s going to try to. Hopefully if you’re not wearing his favorite red bikini. Hopefully if you somehow magically forgot the events of yesterday. Hopefully if he just grows some balls and lets his feelings free for the first time in years. Probably not.

.☼.

It’s safe to say, you did not forget the events of yesterday, you’re definitely wearing Heeseung’s favorite red bikini, and he has not at all grown any balls to even make eye contact with you yet.

He’s been here for an hour. One whole agonizing hour of watching you climb onto Jake’s shoulders and wrestle Sunghoon who is on Sunoo’s shoulders. Thankfully, Sunoo has thighs of steel and is able to keep Sunghoon steady while you push and pull all in an attempt to knock him over.

Heeseung’s jaw clenches and his eyes don’t leave your hands— your hands that are currently touching up every part of Sunghoon’s body. He contemplates leaving now and skipping out on the guy’s night he and his friends hold biweekly.

Your fingers grip Sunghoon’s biceps before making their way to his chest, nails scratching their way down his ridged stomach, letting out frustrated groans as you poke and poke at Sunghoon’s body.

Oh, how Heeseung wishes it was his body you were touching. He can’t take it anymore, standing up quickly and pushing his lawn chair back, where it hits the floor with a loud crash before making his way into the house just like he did yesterday.

The crash distracts you and Sunghoon takes this as an advantage as he swiftly loosens your harsh grip on Jake’s shoulders and pushes you down into the water.

From outside of the pool, Jay sighs to himself before following Heeseung back inside, finding him snooping through Sunghoon’s home bar.

“She’s not going to fuck you if you’re not sober, you know.” Heeseung jumps at the sound of Jay’s voice, almost dropping one of the expensive bottles of alcohol.

He shrugs and continues snooping. “Who said anything about fucking?” His reply is nonchalant but his best friend can see right through his act. “Your eyes say everything I need to know.” Jay laughs to himself but Heeseung doesn’t find it funny.

“Whatever. She’s not into me like that anyways.” Heeseung speaks like he’s trying to convince himself, but Jay can hear the hopeful tone in his voice. “Trust me. She was eye fucking you earlier when you weren’t looking.”

Jay barely gets the sentence out before Heeseung is visibly perking up. “Really?!” His face is bright and his eyes are glossy and wide. “Relax, man. Don’t pop a boner in front of me.” Jay teases his friend and Heeseung rolls his eyes in embarrassment, because he definitely would grow stiff at just the mention of your name.

Jay heads back towards the sliding door but turns back to Heeseung before he opens it. “By the way, Hoon invited her to stay the night with us also.” He smiles to himself before continuing his sentence. “So please try to keep it down if you do happen to make it past first base.” With that, he makes his way back to the pool and leaves Heeseung with a heavy problem in his swim trunks.

.☼.

Heeseung opens his eyes to the sound of obnoxious snoring echoing throughout Sunghoon’s living room. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep but by the looks of it, everyone else seems to have knocked out by now too. Closing his eyes, he decides to try to fall back asleep. Until he’s startled awake-

“Heeseung.”

Shooting his eyes back open, he sits up from his place on the couch and looks around the dark room. With his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he can only barely make out your figure kneeling next to him on the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” He whispers a little too loudly and you stand up, a palm covering his mouth swiftly as you take place onto the couch next to him.

Heeseung is a big man, meaning he already takes up most of the space, leaving you only a small sliver of cushion to sit on. So, you climb up onto his lap to get comfortable— because of course you would. Stiffening up from under you, he makes eye contact with you the best he can with the dim lighting, only the moonlight peeking through the curtains.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper, slowly taking your hand off of his mouth and trailing it down his chest and stomach, finally resting it at his side. Your thumb swipes comfortably there, almost as if you’re reassuring him, letting him know that this is real. “And I’m bored.” You lean in closer to him, your hand now coming up to his chest and pushing him to lay flat underneath you, his head landing softly on the armrest of the couch.

He gulps, big doe eyes looking up at you almost innocently. But you know that’s not the case. You’ve seen the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Seeing him drool over you is one thing but seeing him think he’s being slick with it? It, makes you way more aroused than you’d like to admit.

However, it’s taken too long for him to act on his desires, so you decide to do it for him. “Wanna help me?” Your voice is sultry and low, and Heeseung’s tummy feels warm as it stirs with excitement when he nods. Leaning down slowly, you stop as soon as the tip of your nose brushes Heeseung’s. Nodding your head slightly, you rub your nose against his almost domestically, before leaning in and lightly pressing your lips to his.

The kiss doesn’t last long, as you’re quick to pull away and smile. But Heeseung isn’t pleased yet, instead cupping the back of your head with his hand and pulling your face back towards his. Your lips smash together almost painfully, but you’re distracted quickly as his tongue immediately pushes its way into your mouth. It’s warm and wet, strong as it glides against yours in a teasing manner.

You catch his bottom lip between yours, sucking on it for a second before biting it softly and pulling away, watching as it bounces back now glossy and red. Heeseung expects more, but to his surprise, you just jump off of his lap and quietly walk to the door that leads outside.

Looking back, you watch his silhouette as he runs a hand through his hair and sits up again. You turn back to unlock the door, already taking your shirt off to expose your bare torso before turning to him one last time. “You coming?”

.☼.

If anyone had told Heeseung two days ago that he would be not only skinny dipping at 2am with you—but shoving his tongue down your throat as well, he wouldn’t believe it.

But, lo and behold, he currently has your back pressed to the edge of the pool with your legs wrapped around his naked waist, lips locked and swollen.

It all happened in a rush, between you stripping to nothing in front of him to him following your lead and ending up intertwined, he suddenly finds himself in a dream-like state.

Was this really happening? The girl he’s been craving for years is finally giving him a chance? Heeseung feels like happiest man on earth right now, and judging by the little moans you let out every now and then, he thinks you may feel the same.

“Heeseung.” You practically whimper as he drags his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at your warm skin. His lips kiss down your chest softly, landing on one of your hard nipples. He pecks it so so softly, almost afraid of hurting you, but you want it to hurt. Grabbing the back of his head and pushing your chest forward, you encourage him to take your nipple into his mouth and he easily gets the hint.

He’s barely done anything and you’re already shaking in his arms, gripping his biceps and throwing your head back with a loud moan. “Heeseung- I need you to fuck me.”

He stops immediately, then slowly detaches his mouth from your nipple and looks up at you. “Yeah? Want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” He thrusts his hips up, his movements slowed by the water but his cock still manages to brush against your folds. You bite your lip, nodding your head eagerly and Heeseung smiles. “Let me get a taste of it first.”

Without waiting for your response, he lifts you up and places you at the edge of the pool, your pussy sat deliciously in front of where he keeps himself afloat.

He almost drools, noting the way he can still see your slick drip out of you despite your whole body being drenched in pool water. Heeseung wastes no time, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so his tongue can lap at your slit.

The pleasure sends a shock through your body, your back arching almost painfully and your hips push themselves harder against Heeseung’s face. He’s forced so close into your cunt that you can feel each feature—his nose stimulating your clit as his tongue teases your entrance and his plush lips sucking almost obnoxiously all while his chin is already slippery with your arousal.

“Ah-fuck!” He’s only been at it for a few minutes yet you’re already so close. But this isn’t want you want. No, as much as you want to release all over his pretty nose, you didn’t seduce him just to finish so quickly. So, you use all of your strength to pull him off of you and scoot away. “Need you to fuck me, now.”

That’s all it takes for Heeseung to lift himself out of the pool, pick you up, and then throw you on the nearest lounging chair. Thank fuck for Heeseung convincing Sunghoon to buy these at the start of the summer. Otherwise he may have opted for fucking you on the itchy grass.

Grabbing his face, you pull him down, kissing him with a sloppy force while you grow more impatient by the second. “How do you want it?” He’s so polite as he asks, but just the idea of him caring about your pleasure is so arousing. You turn around, placing your cheek on the cushion of the pool lounger and wiggling your ass to taunt him.

It works, of course, and Heeseung takes his place behind you. He slaps his thick girth on the crevice of your ass, feeling the heat between your bodies mix with the humid summer night air. “Hurry, please.” You whine but he just shushes you, dropping his cock to gather your slick on his tip.

You’re tired of waiting, pushing yourself back only slightly to feel him enter you just an inch. “Oh, God.” You gasp, caught off guard by the stretch of just the head. He fights the urge to fully push himself in, instead gently sliding in more, your walls clenching tighter and tighter as each inch stretches you out, a tingling feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He fully bottoms out, standing still with his hands on your hips for a second, before somehow pushing even deeper. You squeak, brows furrowing as you try to ignore the pain of the threatening size currently stuffing you full. You open your eyes, looking back to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes shut.

You reach your hand back and tap his own hand, letting him know he can finally move. He nods, leaning forward a bit to hover his body closer to yours. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” You smile at him for a second, but it’s quickly replaced by an open mouthed moan as he pulls back a few inches, then slams himself back in.

Building up a steady pace, he thrusts a few times before finally letting out his first moan. And God, was it beautiful. “Yes-yes let me hear you, baby.” Your voice is weak as his thrusts push your whole body against the chair, your breath unsteady and shaky with each meet of your hips.

It feels amazing, but you can’t help but feel that Heeseung is trying to be gentle with you, which you don’t want. Pushing yourself back again, you meet his thrusts with quiet hmph hmph hmph noises that catch his attention. “You need more? Yeah? My cock isn’t enough for you, needy baby?” He coos at you but you know he’s still holding back. “Please, Heeseung. More.” Your fragile voice ignites something in him, and you’re suddenly being picked up by your hair.

Heeseung grabs your wrists and pins them to the top of the lounger, romantically intertwining his fingers between yours before aggressively snapping his hips against your ass. You let out an almost-too-loud moan, but it only fuels Heeseung more. Your bodies are close and he can’t pull back fully, so instead he fucks into you at a fast, almost blinding pace.

He watches your ass jiggle as it meets his pelvis, the bouncing fat sending him to an almost trance like state. The only thing that snaps him out of it is your whiny voice. “Harder, Heeseung, harder!” He pulls out fully, not giving you time to process his actions as he sits down on the lounger and pulls you on top of him, slipping his cock back into your heat easily.

Thrusting up once, twice, then a third time, he watches your thighs tremble as you try to hold yourself up for him. He finds it cute, how you’ve teased him for so long only to end up too cock drunk to even ride him. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you flat against him so you’re chest to chest with your face in his neck.

He slowly drags his cock out of you, then fully shoves it in, a loud squelching noise following. “So fucking wet. So fucking noisy.” He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw as he fucks up into your cunt in an almost inhumane pace. “Ah ah ah, shit! I’m cumming, Heeseung!”

Your warning barely falls from your lips as you clench impossibly tight around him, body stiffening for a second until your toes curl and you feel the knot in your stomach releasing with a tingling sensation spreading throughout your entire body, which then goes limp against Heeseung’s.

This encourages him to thrust harder, chasing his own release that he can already sense creeping up on him. His fingers dig into your ass, nails leaving indents as his hips don’t slow down. The sound of your release mixing with the slapping of his balls on your ass is all too much, and he finally lets himself go.

“Gonna cum in you, baby. Gonna cum so fucking deep-fuck!” He bites down on your shoulder as he cums, hips stilled and cock stuffed so deep inside of you, you’re sure you’ll end up pregnant even on birth control.

He slowly lowers his hips, caressing your back soothingly as if he’s apologizing for his harsh treatment before. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?” He cups your cheeks to look into your eyes, only to meet your fucked out expression and lazy smile. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

That was enough to almost have Heeseung stiffening up again, if not for the sound of the sliding door opening and Jay’s pissed off voice. “Brought you guys some towels.” He walks out with a hand covering his eyes and the other holding out two beach towels, which he throws on the floor carelessly, then walks back to the door. “I told you to keep it down if you got past first base.”

[itsallyscorner]

And They Were Roommates | MV1

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Max just wants to have some sexy time but you have adorable unwanted visitors in the bedroom.

warnings: none! Suggestive topics via Max. Possibly some spelling errors..

author’s note: I’ve been busy lately and have been struggling to write, so pls take this drabble/short fic as a peace offering☺️

It was a lazy day in Monaco.

The sun beamed through the curtains of your window in your shared bedroom. The covers enveloped your and Max’s bodies, your legs tangled together, and your back flush against his. His head was shoved into the crook of your neck, one arm underneath your neck, and the other snaked tightly around your waist.

As helpful the comforter was at protecting you from the AC that had been on all night, Max was the perfect human heater you could ever ask for. You didn’t have to worry about getting too cold at night because Max helped balance your body temperature with how warm he got. Throughout the night, his arms somehow stayed wrapped around you. His nose was often nuzzled against your neck, your hair, and sometimes your chest when he’s managed to become the little spoon overnight.

Just a few minutes ago, you had woken up to the scents of Max and fresh linen filling your senses. Something that always sent a warm feeling in the pits of your stomach, much similar to butterflies. The two scents mixed together meant your love was home after weeks of traveling and finally sleeping peacefully beside you—a feeling both you and Max took great pleasure in.

You tried to stretch as best as you could in Max’s hold, though your actions only caused the man beside you to squeeze you tighter. You reached behind your head to gently run your hand through his hair. A small groan, almost similar to a whine, emitted from your boyfriend.

His body tensed against yours as he attempted to stretch the sleep out of his bones, his head only burying further into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t get up yet, schatje.” He mumbled against your skin, his voice still rough. You hummed in response, bringing the hand he had around your waist to your lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of his hand.

“I’m not planning on getting up anytime soon, Maxie.” You turn in his arms, finally facing him. He truly looked adorable in his current state. His hair was ruffled, sticking in a couple of different directions. His lips were in a slight pout and his eyes were puffy from sleep.

His eyes remained closed but his arms were quick to wrap tightly around you. You smiled seeing him so relaxed. Often after race weekends, especially the ones you were not able to attend, Max came home very clingy. He wanted to spend every waking moment with you, holding you at all times, and being in your company. You never had a problem with it, in fact, you found it extremely endearing. It was a side he saved for you and only you. He was your giant, cuddly, teddy bear.

You pressed light kisses against his face, causing the corner of his lips to rise in a smile. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before looking down at you.

“Hi, schatje.” He greeted softly, crimson lips set in a sweet smile. You giggled at him, “Good morning, Maxie.”

You squealed as he suddenly forced his body on top of yours, pushing your back against the mattress. His sudden burst of energy nearly knocking the wind out of you.

“Oh my god, I missed this.” He mused, resting his body weight atop yours and shoving his face into your chest. He dug his face deeper, his nose basically between the crevices of your breasts.

“I missed you too, you goof.” You laughed, lovingly running your hands through his hair. Max reciprocated your actions by stroking your sides with his rough hands, pressing tiny kisses above your breasts and any other surface of your skin he could reach.

“Just wanna stay in bed all day.” Max said against your skin, talking between his kisses. “No paddle *kiss*, no driving on the sim *kiss*, no working out *kiss*, no work emails *kiss*, nothing!”

“We need food.” You interjected, quickly adding, “You also need to feed the cats.”

Max huffed, he’s managed to reach your stomach now. Resting his chin on the soft surface of your tummy, he looked up at you with his addicting blue eyes, shades of turquoise and grey bursting in them.

“Jimmy and Sassy can wait a few minutes longer.” He grumbled, one of his hand searching for yours. When he finds it, he places a kiss into your palm, and guides your hand to his hair. Taking the hint, you run your fingers through the strands again.

“I don’t think they’ll mind if I eat first.” Max’s voice dropped an octave, an underlying tone of arousal—in more simpler words—horniness.

He began to kiss on the exposed skin beneath your (his) lifted shirt, his thumbs stroking circles into your hips, as he drifted lower beneath the sheets. Your hand remained in his hair, pulling lightly at the strands. It was a habit of yours that he liked, but something he craved even more during intimate moments. Especially when you roughly tugged on it, encouraging him and his acts of love.

“Your cats are persistent.” You hummed, Max finally inching closer towards your lower region. You bit your finger in amusement, glancing at the two Bengals hanging out in their cat tower behind Max.

As much as you wanted to have sex with your boyfriend, you were not going to do the nasty while your shared cats stared at the both of you, waiting to be fed.

“I’m persistent too, schatje.” Max claimed, squeezing your bum with one of his hands. Still unaware at the two cats glaring daggers at him. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Not as much as Jimmy and Sassy, baby.” You shook your head, adjusting yourself to sit up. Max whined at you moving away from him. He was beginning to wonder why you were so concerned with the cats, especially while he was trying to go down on you.

“They’ll be fine, schat, I’ll even put some more food in their bowls for waiting.” He assured you, trying his best to keep the built up tension.

“Baby please I need you.” He crawled up your body until you were face to face. You placed a teasing kiss on his pouted lips before cradling his jaw, “Trust me Maxie, I need you too.”

You gently turned his face to look behind him, “But we are not fucking in front of the cats.”

You felt Max deflate against you, “Oh, for fucks sake!”

He groaned and dramatically threw himself on the mattress beside you. You bursted out laughing, very much killing the sexual tension.

You tried to pry off Max’s hands from covering his face, “Aww, it’s okay Maxie.”

You were still fighting off some giggles, not helping Max’s situation. Max refused to take his hands off his face. Only rushing to grab the decorative pillow beside him to cover his hard on.

“Baby.” You cooed. Max huffed in response.

“Maxie.” You sang, poking his side. He jolted, but smacked your hand away from his side, “No.”

“Maxie, I promise we can get some me and you time later.” You reassured him, stroking his stomach. He finally took his hands off his face, revealing a very flushed faced.

“I just wanted some morning sex.” He pouted. You chuckled at him and moved to kiss his cheek.

“Me too, baby. But we can’t always get what we want.” You teased him, patting his warm chest, and hopping out of bed. Max continued to pout, watching as you sauntered out the bedroom.

“I have the hottest girlfriend in the world and I still managed to get cockblocked under my own roof.” Max said to himself, staring at the ceiling.

He sat up, pillow still covering his boner.

Jimmy and Sassy remained in their cat tower, waiting for Max to get out of bed.

“You guys are the worse roommates ever.” Max announced, causing you to burst out laughing from the kitchen.

[sweetnans]

What do you think Bakugo’s reaction will be to a reader who cant stop looking at his buttons, cause like dude HE LOOKS SO HOT WITH THE WHOLE NO TIE AND UNBUTTONED UNIFORM THING HE DOES HOLY

I do love it when you ask me about my opinion. We all know that Bakugo is not an idiot. He notices right away when your gaze lingers for more time than you usually do (and that you usually allow yourself to)

You are gathered in the common area, and most of your classmates are dozing off on the couch, a few of them talk about the day while the others stay in silence with their eyes close almost drifting to sleep

His presence doesn't go unnoticed for you when he claims a seat in front of you. He has a magazine on his hands with the headline that says something about the ten top heroes with the best outstanding battles each.

You don't plan to watch him like he's your prey. He would never be the prey of anyone, but you still can't help but look at him intensely. He's got something weird on him. You can't quite decipher what it is.

The days are warm, and a heat wave settled in the city, so everyone has been peeling off layers of clothes through the day.

The sun is setting right behind him, and a cold shiver comes through your spine. Spring days are weird. There must be a window open because there's a sudden breeze of cold air coming in from somewhere. You hug yourself and mentally curse because of the lack of reasoning you had to take your cardigan off preventing a heat stroke.

Bakugo is still reading his magazine, impassive. He's smarter than you obviously, and he did not peel his clothes off when the sun started shining, but he did something, he took off his tie and unbuttoned the first three button of his shirt.

God damned you.

You've been too busy focusing on the flies that now the mere fact of him doing something so mundane like coping the warmthest days of all hot you all flustered in your seat.

You can't react like that just for the sake of it.

"Oi" he grunts. "Quit fucking staring you creep"

There's no nonchalant way to save yourself from this.

"I'm sorry," you mumble. You weren't going to argue because it will carry a long tiff between the two of you, and just by the sight of his skin, you know you'll be out of words in a second.

"So you, in fact, had been staring at me like a damn creep," he says, not even taking his eyes off his lecture.

As you foreseen it, you are out of words.

"It's not every day that you get so free about how you wear what you wear in front of us," you tiptoe in your words, and it comes out more like a tongue-twister.

"Hah?" Now he lowers his magazine to stare at you.

The statement in front of us pales because there is no one around you. It's just you and your half digged grave. The colors rise to your cheeks, and suddenly, the couch is not deep enough for you to disappear.

How can you come clean when he catches you being a psycho and an hormonal bitch?

"Nothing, I just -" you stumble in your own words, trying to dissipate the tension while your braing tries to come up with a better idea than running away.

"Quit that shit, if you're staring me, I want you to say it to my face, what's your fucking deal with me?"

In a matter of seconds, he's right in front of you. A big scowl on his face fumed from reading the room wrongly. Poor and emotionally constipated Bakugo, he wouldn't realize your big and fat crush on him even if you tear your heart out in front of him.

His face is now inches from yours, trying to read your factions, but he only sees that you're laughing at him. The unbuttoned shirt is now under your gaze with the skin showing right in front of your nose.

The way he's looking at you is making you mad and flustered. You don't know what force possesses you, but when you roll your eyes at him, you know something big is coming.

"You can be so fucking dense sometimes, jeez, I was staring at you because I fucking like you, damn"

The two of you stay static. You because what the fuck was that and him because he couldn't believe what was listening.

Squirming, you grab his arms that caged you a while ago and move them from their position to slide out of the couch and hopefully leave the country.

Unfortunately, you don't even reach the stairs when he's pulling you backward.

"You said what?" He pronounces very clearly. Not grunting, not mumbling.

"What you heard. You push me to say it, walking around like a bitch wearing your shirt like that and-

Silence.

His firm lips crash with yours in a quick and tender kiss. You are speechless. Probably your face shows more than you're capable to describe.

"Fucking heat waves" he smirks at you and your astonished state.

[really-fanny-longbottom]

only in my dreams [part two]

summary: you turned off your emotions so you could protect your heart but at what price?

warnings: angst, mentions of unrequited love, curse words, blood and death.

pairings: azriel x reader

words: 8.5k

Morning was here. 

You left Emerie's house when the first rays of sunlight passed through the half-open bedroom window. 

Your friends were still sound asleep when you pushed away their arms that tried to offer you some comfort during the night and got out of bed. 

You had no intention in waiting for them to wake up and having to talk about what had happened just a few hours ago. 

So you quickly changed your clothes and placed the backpack you had brought with you over your left shoulder.  

You didn't bother looking back when you left the room.

The front door closed behind you, and you found yourself facing the sun that was almost reaching its usual place in the blue sky. 

Sunrise has always been your favorite part of the day.  

Not only for the view, but also for its meaning - every time the sun rises, a new day comes with it, a new day that seems like a new blank page giving you a new opportunity to do your best and let go of the past on the day that was left behind. 

Besides, being a healer meant that your day always started early, so why not start it with the best view ever?

When you lived with your aunt Madja, you would go to the bridge over the Sidra and sit on the wall and when you moved to the House of the Wind you would go to your balcony and do the same.

You would close your eyes and tilt your head slightly upwards and immediately relax with the sunlight passing through your body and warming not only your skin but also your soul.

You don't know if it was because you're an empath but you've always felt a connection with the sun, as if you could feel its energy, it was as if the sun itself had emotions and was trying to communicate with you.

You loved how it made you feel.

But that was before.

Now, standing in the doorway of Emerie's house, as you looked at it, you didn't know what to do.

You stayed there for a few moments waiting for something to happen - for you to feel something.

But nothing came.

With a shrug of your shoulders, you turned your back on what used to be your greatest comfort and step by step you began to move away from it and the house.

As you walked, you didn't notice that the camp was starting to wake up, just as you didn't notice the sunlight fading away.

You winnowed as soon as you reached the edge of the camp.

-

Twenty minutes later, you were in Velaris about to arrive at your aunt's house to take a much-needed shower.

As you walked up the street, you didn't pay attention to any of the citizens who were opening their establishments and getting ready for a new day of work.

Some of them tried to get your attention to greet you just like they always did. You would look at them with your eyes full of color and wave greetings with a warm smile, sometimes you would even stop and talk to some of them.

But not anymore.

Now, you simply walked with an expression of indifference without removing your empty eyes from the path ahead.

You only stopped when an all too familiar voice filled the air around you - the voice of the last person you wanted to see right now. "Y/N."

You could already see your aunt's house from here, and you were so close to getting there. 

Slowly, you turned around and faced the person who had stopped you from reaching your destination.

It was the wife of the patient you lost yesterday with one of their sons by her side, both wearing mourning clothes.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I saw you passing by, and I just wanted to thank you again for what you did for my husband yesterday." She told you with a weak voice, her eyes still red.

With a fake smile on your features, you ran a hand through your hair before telling her, "I was just doing my job. After all, that's what I'm paid for."

Surprised by your reaction, the female lost her words and after a few seconds to compose herself, she cleared her throat and said "Well, the funeral is this afternoon at three o'clock if you want to join us."

You laughed, and without a care in the world, you responded, "No, thank you. I have better things to do but have fun."

And with that, you turned your back on them and walked up the rest of the street before removing the small key from your backpack and entering your aunt's house.

The wife and son remained in their places, trying to understand what had just happened. 

-

After placing your backpack on the sofa, you started heading to the stairs towards the bathroom, but before you could, an irritated voice stopped you in your tracks. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, for Cauldron's sake," you muttered and turned to find Madja with her arms crossed and an angry face.

"I was with the Valkyries. I spent the night at Emerie's." You told her with a tone of annoyance.

"I'm aware of that. The High Lord had the decency to send me a letter unlike you," Madja scolded before continuing, her voice turning softer. "He also told me what happened about Azriel." 

When she opened her mouth to speak again, you raised a hand and stopped her from it, "Okay, auntie, it's too early for this. I'm going to take a shower and I'll see you at the clinic. Okay. Cool."

You used both hands to give the cool sign, but before you could step on the stairs, Madja called you again. "Wait."

"Ugh, you gotta be kidding me," you whispered low enough for her not to hear.

You saw your aunt grab a piece of parchment and hand it to you. "This arrived for you a few minutes ago." 

When you unrolled it, you recognized Nesta's handwriting. 

She was asking where you were. 

Without hesitation, you crumpled the paper and threw it into the middle of the fireplace where it instantly began to burn.

"Anything else?"

When your aunt didn't speak, you accepted her silence as an answer and started climbing the stairs by jumping two steps at a time. 

The bathroom door closed seconds later, and Madja, who didn't know what animal had bitten you to react like that, put a hand to her forehead before muttering to herself, "What was that?"  

-

The clinic was very busy like almost every day but you never complained.

Unlike other people, you could happily say that you liked your work. Being a healer has always been a rewarding job. 

There was nothing else you enjoyed as much as helping your patients. Heal them, make them feel safe, and heard. Make them feel important.

Your favorite days were the days you helped a new life enter this world. Seeing those beings so small and innocent was the best miracle of life.  

But of course, like all jobs, yours also had a bad side. 

Seeing your patients sick and knowing that in some cases there is nothing you can do to help, seeing them leave this life and the family they leave behind. 

There were patients who had left such an impact on you that from time to time, they appeared in your dreams. 

Sometimes, you felt guilty at their memory because you felt like you could have done more, but most of the time, their memories reminded you to do better for others.  

But none of that mattered to you anymore. Now you simply limited yourself to doing your job so you could get paid. 

You were finishing bandaging the knee of a boy who had tripped while running.

The boy had become a regular patient of yours, always finding a way to hurt himself, whether it is running or reading a book.

It was a simple wound that didn't require the use of your powers, so you cleaned, disinfected, and put a bandage on it.

Your right hand held his injured leg while the other tried to wrap the bandage, when you finished and lowered his leg, you noticed that he had a bruise in the exact place where your hand had been just seconds before.

With your focus on the wound, you hadn't even noticed the bruise. You went behind the counter and grabbed a bottle of ointment that you had made last weekend and handed it to the boy.

"Take this," you pointed to the bruise that had several shades of purple on his leg, "twice a day, one in the morning and one at night. If it starts to hurt, put some ice on it."

Following the movement of your hand, the boy saw the bruise for the first time with a confused face "Oh, I didn't even know I had that," he grabbed the bottle and with a toothless smile, he started heading towards the door but not without shouting first "Thank you Y/N! I'll see you next week." 

"Whatever" you let out a sigh and walked towards your chair to take a break but before you could your aunt directed you to the next patient. 

It was an old male who mixed up the plants in his garden and ended up using the wrong plant as a seasoning for his food.

He was slightly pale, nauseous, and had stomach pain.

"You mistake a poisonous plant for a seasoning plant?" You asked as you examined him, judgment written all over your face and voice.

"Yes, I know what it looks like," he explained between short breaths, "but it was an honest mistake."

"It was a stupid mistake." You answered him without hesitation.

You were too busy finishing your exam to notice Madja's shocked expression, who had stopped what she was doing at the sound of your words.

"Y/N!" She approached and scolded you. "You can't talk to patients like that."

"Why? It's true. It's not my fault he's an idiot." You told her with frightening indifference.

At your response, your aunt put her hands to her head with a whisper of "By the Mother," escaping between her lips.

She got closer to the patient and placed one hand on his arm before bringing the other to her chest and apologizing to him for your behavior.

The male, on the other hand, said, "It's okay, she happens to be right."

You scoffed "Of course I am," you turned to your aunt and with an air of irritation you asked her "Now, are you going to let me work or haven't you finished disturbing me yet?"

Shocked by your words, Madja didn't know how to react or what to say, so she limited herself to taking two steps back, giving you space to continue working.

She looked at you, trying to understand what was happening to you, because this type of behavior was not normal.

You had never spoken to her like that - you had never spoken to anyone like that.

You were sweet, attentive, and very polite. This was not the niece she knew.

She couldn't help but think that maybe this situation with Azriel and Elain was affecting more than you had let on.

Plus, she was well acquainted with how much your emotions could overwhelm you. 

Choking sounds broke the trance she was in, and her mind refocused on what was in front of her.

You had started the healing process in the patient, and your hand hovered over his belly in order to try to eliminate the poison, but something was wrong.

Because the patient was now paler and bleeding from his mouth.

Madja saw you stop and look at her. "I think the poison is stronger than I thought." You kept looking at her, no doubt waiting for her to react, but when she didn't, you couldn't help the sarcastic comment that escaped you. "Are you waiting for him to die? Because my arms are starting to get numb." 

That was enough to make her move and begin her own examination of the patient.

She frowned. Did you really just say that? 

"Are you sure you gave me the correct name of the plant you used in your food?" You asked the patient while using a cloth to clean the blood, irritation in your voice.

He simply shook his head in confirmation.

"Maybe the plant you used was in contact with another. Are there any other poisonous plants in your garden?"

The male shook his head again, but this time in denial.

Your brain started working quickly trying to see all the possibilities and it was then that you turned to your aunt and found yourself saying "Maybe it's because he ate a long time ago and that allowed the poison to spread. I mean, who knows how long this idiot ingested a poisonous plant." 

Madja didn't answer you and due to her silence, you removed your hands from the patient and met her gaze with your empty eyes and a bored expression in your features "Okay, so you got this right? I'm hungry, so I'm going to take a break." And with a look of disgust, you walked away.

The old female's heart was beating very fast. She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed.

Not just your words but also your actions.

Maybe she had seen wrong. 

Maybe what she saw and made her freeze before you caught her attention hadn't happened.

Maybe she just imagined it. 

Because it couldn't be.

Could it?

-

Several days passed, and you continued to act strangely since the day you returned from Illyria. 

Madja was observing you now more than ever, and little by little, she began to assimilate all the differences that you now demonstrated, but the one that worried her the most until now?  

The reason she made you work behind the counter taking care of patient charts so you wouldn't have to interact with them medically. 

You weren't the niece she knew and loved so much, and she began to think that something else must have happened - something you weren't sharing with her. 

And if Madja was honest with herself, you were starting to scare her.

Your behavior continued to become increasingly strange - how you interacted with patients, the way you spoke to her, your 'new clothes', and your nights out.

Not to mention what you had said to the family of the patient you lost a week ago. 

Madja met them in the market when she went shopping for groceries, and when the widow told her what you had said them, she didn't want to believe that such insensitivity had come from you. 

She thought about asking the Inner Circle if they knew anything but after meeting the High Lady on the street as she left her studio the other day, she informed Madja that it had been almost a week and a half since any of them had seen or spoken to you. 

Feyre also explained that both she and the others sent several letters to you, and none returned with a response.

Not even Nesta knew where you were these days. 

It was with this new information that Madja's heart began to tighten more and more with worry. Her sleep no longer came as it used to, and the feeling of calm that used to hover over her was gone. 

Madja was well aware of your relationship with the older Archeron sister, that she was not just a best friend but a sister.

So why wouldn't you be talking to her? With none of them? 

-

Rita's was full as always - full of life, light, and music.

People danced while others drank and gamble. Laughter, singing, and shouts of euphoria filled the air of the familiar bar. 

This has always been one of your favorite places to spend time with your family, not to mention that Rita herself was a long-time friend.

Good memories were formed on the dance floor with Feyre and Nesta, on the karaoke stage with Mor, several shot battles with Cassian that often ended with the two of you on the floor and too many card games with Rhys and Azriel where you took all their money.

Whenever these memories surfaced, they warmed your heart and made you feel lucky to have these people by your side.

Now, you felt nothing besides an emptiness in your heart, but at least your heart was whole again, and that's what mattered. 

You ordered your third drink of the night, and the moment you took the first sip, a deep voice was heard from behind you.

"Can I join you, my Lady?"

When you turned to find the owner of the mysterious voice, you couldn't hide the surprise on your face which you quickly replaced with a mischievous smile "Well, well, well, look what the wind brought." 

Your colorless eyes meet golden ones that belong to a male with fiery hair and a smile that matches yours displayed on his lips.

You let your eyes roam the male in front of you as you analyzed him. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons open, brown pants where his muscles were visible and black boots.

"Eris Vanserra," you held out your hand for him to shake. Instead, he grabbed it and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

"Lady Y/N," he greeted, his eyes always fixed on yours. 

You let out a light chuckle as you ran your eyes over the male again as he took the seat next to you. "Well, you look delicious." 

"I could say the same about you," he replied with a chuckle, and now it was his turn to look at your form.

You wore a simple black strapless dress that fit your curves perfectly with a slit in the skirt on your left thigh and a pair of silver high heels that matched your jewelry. 

Eris ordered his drink, and after you hit each other's glasses with a small 'cheers', you asked him the question you wanted since your eyes had landed on him.

"You are far from home. Tell me, what brings you to Velaris?" You took a sip of your drink before continuing. "Does Rhysand even know you're here?" 

Following your movements, Eris took a sip from his glass before putting it down and answering, "I'm here because of him, actually. I had a meeting with him and his Inner Circle a few hours ago."  

"Oh, and I thought you had come here just to see me," you said as you signaled the bartender to refill your glass.  

"That can be arranged," the Heir replied as he took another sip without ever taking his eyes off yours. 

You cleared your throat after an unexpected heat warmed your cheeks. "I'm surprised he let you come here." 

Eris chucked and turned around in his chair and faced you before resting one of his arms on the back of your chair. "I'm surprised I didn't see you at the meeting with the others. Did you lose the invitation?" 

You let out a laugh as you tilted your head back slightly before meeting those golden eyes again. "Nope, I just didn't want to go. Those meetings bore me to death." 

Eris's laughter rivaled yours and after losing yourself to the sound for a few seconds, you regained composure and found yourself saying to him "So if the meeting ended a few hours ago, what are you still doing here?" 

The male stared at you for a few seconds and you noticed his smile weakened a little at your question but he was quick to hide it before answering you "Maybe I wanted to see you before I left." 

"You mean you want to avoid Beron." 

Shock crossed the male's features, and when he opened his mouth to respond, you were quick to raise a hand towards him and stop him. "I'm an empath. Reading people is kinda my thing, remember?" 

"Right, sometimes I forget that," he picked up his glass again and turned it around a few times in his hand and this time he kept his eyes on the drink as he asked, "so, does that mean you've read me before?" " 

"Yes." 

"And what did you read?"

"That this whole act of you being a bad, terrible and heartless male is just that. An act." 

His eyes finally meet yours, and you proceed. "That you care. That you love your mother and Lucien more than you let on. And that you love your court and can't wait to get it out of Beron's claws." 

"Hm," Eris leaned against the counter, and with a look of indifference on his face, he told you, "That's...accurate." 

A smile returned to your lips. Your skills never failed you, at least not when it came to reading people.

"Do you want to know what else I read?" 

Eris gestured with his hand for you to continue, coming closer to the edge of your chair, you leaned slightly towards him before telling him "That you, Eris Vanserra," you placed a finger on his chest "you will be a better High Lord than that terrible male ever was." 

Eris swallowed the lump in his throat as you picked up your glass again and raised it towards him, making the Heir follow your movement.

With a clink of glasses, you both drained your drinks, and a mischievous smile returned to your lips. "So, are you spending your night here?"

Eris laughed, and as he placed some money on the counter for the night's drinks, he matched your smile, and with amusement in his voice, he asked you, "Why? Is that an invitation?" 

You added the same tone of amusement to your voice when you answered, "Maybe." 

- 

You thanked the Mother that your aunt was working the night shift at the clinic and would only return in the morning. Otherwise, this would be embarrassing - for her, at least. 

You walked up the stairs towards your bedroom with the male behind you. 

Upon entering your bedroom, Eris looked around, noticing that it was small but cozy.

A bed was placed in the corner with a wide window behind it, a bookshelf full of books on healing and romance novels was at the foot of the bed with an puff in front of it against the wall.

Some paintings decorated the walls, several faelights lit up the small bedroom, and a desk was on the wall opposite the bed with a mirror on its side. 

What also didn't go unnoticed by Eris was the pile of parchments you had on your desk.

"What's all this?" He asked as he pointed to it.

Your eyes followed his finger, and you noticed  that the pile was now higher than yesterday - 'Madja must have added the ones that arrived this morning', you thought. 

They were letters from your friends. The ones they've been sending since you left Illyria and have been avoiding them.

Every day, new letters arrive. Letters that you didn't even bother opening, let alone reading, so you collected them on top of your desk. Why? You still didn't know.

There was a morning when a letter signed by Azriel was on the carpet at the entrance of your house - that one went right to the fireplace.  

With a shrug, you simply said "Trash" and picked them all up and placed them in the trash can before leaning against your desk while Eris sat on your bed. 

"You look different." The male's voice filled the bedroom.

"What do you mean?"

It was Eris's turn to shrug before continuing, "You seem more...free." 

You chuckled, and as you ran a hand down your dress, you said, "I feel like that." 

There was a moment of silence, and you watched the Heir as he looked at one of the paintings next to your bed.

Your eyes fell on his body again, and with a thought coming to your mind, a feline look and smile took over your face. 

Noticing the way you were looking at him, Eris leaned on his forearms and shot you a bold smile. "What is that little head of yours thinking about?"

You laughed at his words, and as you approached him, you rested your hands on his thighs. "I have a question."

His smile grew even wider, and one of his eyebrows rose, and you took that gesture as your cue to continue.

Your hands moved to his chest as you straddled his hips, "I want to know if what everyone says is true."

He placed his hands on your thighs and, in a whisper, asked, "What is true?" 

You leaned into his chest and as you brushed aside his hair with your hand, your lips hovered over his ear "That the Autumn males have fire in their veins and they also fuck like it." 

Eris's body tensed beneath yours at your words, turning his smile into mischief, and the smell of arousal began to fill the small bedroom. 

"It's true." Eris straightened up, taking you with him and pushed your hair behind your shoulders.

You intertwined your fingers in his fiery hair, and still in a low voice, you said, "I'm afraid I'm going to need proof," earning a few chuckles from him.

With a kiss on his neck and then another on his shoulder, you whispered, "Why don't you show me?"

Eris giggled, and with his hands now on your waist, he murmured, "As you wish, my Lady." Before connecting his lips with yours. 

And so he did. 

- 

Several knocks on the front door woke you up the next morning. 

You let out several curse words as you went down the stairs only in underwear while you tried to button the white shirt that you stole from the male who was still sleeping in your bed. 

You only had time to button the last three buttons of the shirt before you reached the door and turned the handle to open it.

"Oh, for God's sake," you ran a hand over your face before crossing your arms and leaning against the door. "What are you doing here?" 

The High Lord of the Night Court was at your doorstep dressed in his usual black suit with his hands in his pockets.

"Good morning to you too." Rhys said with a look of indifference at your choice of clothing to open the door. 

 "What are you doing here?" You asked the question again. 

"You missed yesterday's meeting, and as you haven't answered any of our letters, I decided that perhaps it would be better to pay you a personal visit." He finished with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 

You ran a hand through your hair again before giving him an irritated look. "And you decided to come..." You stretched back to see the clock on the living room table "at seven in the morning?" 

"I went to the clinic, and you weren't there."

"Today is my day off." 

He cleared his throat, ignoring the fact that your bra was showing, "Why didn't you go yesterday?"

"I've been busy." It was your only answer.

Rhys was about to speak again when someone's footsteps coming down the stairs reached both your ears. 

"Do you have guests?" 

"She does. And he's really annoyed that you made her get out of bed at this hour." Eris said as he stood right behind you in just his boxers. 

One of his hands went to your shoulder and the other to the door. “Good morning, Rhysand.” He said with a smile.

"Eris." Rhysand replied with an expression of indifference, but you knew that deep down, he was surprised to see him with you.

Silence hung in the air as the two males looked at each other and you looked between them.  

The High Lord broke the silence without taking his eyes of the Autumn Heir. "What is he doing here?"

With a shrug and an air of amusement, you replied, "Eris wanted to see Velaris."  

A laugh sounded behind you, and you joined him, and when you noticed the frustrated look of the male in front of you, you couldn't help but ask, "You don't like the view?"

"I can't say I do." Rhysand answered with his eyes now meeting yours.

"Well, that's a shame. Maybe next time, think about letting me know you're coming before you show up at my door at seven in the morning." And with a fake smile dancing on your lips, you closed the door in his face. 

-

Madja continued to look at you from moment to moment, trying to understand you as she has been doing in the last few days without success.

You were working at the counter, updating patient charts, and you seemed so normal. It seemed like everything was fine.

But Madja knew it was just an illusion.

The atmosphere between you was now stranger after her shift ended early, and she found you with a male on the living room couch a few days ago. Not just a male but the Heir of Autumn.

You laughed at the situation while she didn't think it was that funny. In fact, she thought it was shocking, considering this had never happened before. 

Her worry grew with each passing day. 

It was only when a letter from Rhysand arrived at the clinic that morning informing that you were to appear at the Townhouse for a meeting in the afternoon that the old female's heart relaxed for a moment. 

The High Lord also took the time to explain in the letter that if you didn't show up this time, he himself would pick you up and carry you on his shoulder if necessary as this meeting was not optional. 

When you finished reading, you huffed and muttered a small "I'd like to see you try" before crumpling up the piece of parchment and throwing it in the trash can. 

You kept yourself busy at the clinic, and when the time for the meeting approached, you didn't bother finishing your work and going.

You simply continued doing your job and about twenty minutes later, when you returned to the counter, your eyes met violet ones. 

The High Lord was now in front of you and with your biggest smile of innocence, you asked him "Are you here for an appointment? Or maybe you came to pick up some medicine?"  

Rhysand faked a smile at your sarcastic comment - apparently you made a lot of those now. 

"Where is your red-haired lover?" 

You looked down, and started looking in your pants pockets and when you finished, you met his violet eyes again before saying "Not in here." 

The male sighed loudly and in a deep but calm voice said to you "The meeting started twenty minutes ago."

"I know," you said without ever breaking eye contact.

"And can you explain to me why I had to come here?"

With a hand gesturing around the waiting room where multiple patients were, you replied "As you can see I've been very busy. A lot of people don't have the choice to spend the day sitting around doing nothing." You finished by resting your head on your hands, which were on top of the counter. 

Rhys furrowed his eyebrows. Since when did you talk to someone like that?

At his confused look, you let out a dry laugh and, continued "I have no interest in going to the meeting, so I'm sorry you wasted your time in coming here, Rhysand."  

"Rhysand?" He asked dumbfounded as he saw you walk away from the counter and grab the next patient's chart before making your way to where a old female was seated.

He wasted no time in following you "Since when do you call me by my full name?" 

You were quick to mutter "Since you came here to be a pain in my ass" in response. 

And this was enough of a reality check to make the male stop in his tracks. Rhys had received a letter from your aunt a few days ago informing him that you were different but he discard it since the events of that night were still recent. 

But now that he allowed himself to really look at you - he saw all the signs. Not only in the way you were acting but also in your clothes.

You were always a warm and happy person and you reflected that in the clothes you wore with light and vivid colors. 

Normally you always wore dresses or a skirt with a top as the days at the clinic required you to walk from one side to the other and that way you were more comfortable as you had explained once when Cassian commented that you always looked like a princess. 

But now? Now it seemed like the princess had been replaced by an evil queen.

Leather pants covered your legs while a black strappy top was on your torso tucked into your pants and held up by a belt with silver details around your waist.

Black high heels, eyeliner on your eyes and red lipstick on your lips completed the outfit.

You looked like a completely different person. 

'What the hell happened?' The question echoed through his mind before Rhys gently grabbed your arm and turned you around.

He decided at that moment that this could (and would) be talked about later, the important thing now was getting you to the meeting. 

"Y/N, we have a meeting to attend. Let's go."

"I already told you that-"

Before you could finish, Rhys took the patient chart from your hands and handed it to a dark-haired healer that was passing by before crouching down and lifting you onto his shoulder with one hand still gripping your arm while the other reached around your legs to hold you. 

"Rhysand! Are you kidding me?" You said and started swearing as you hit his back with your free hand.

On your way out, both of you passed by Madja and Rhys assured her that he would bring you back home in a few hours.

The old healer felt more at ease knowing that you would be safe with your friends and despite the worry that filled her heart, she couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the sight of you on the High Lord's shoulder. 

Maybe this was exactly what you needed - a night out with your friends.

Hope replaced some of the worry that she had been carrying these last few days, that after tonight, you would come back happier.

You would come back as the Y/N she knew.

-

"Seriously, Rhysand? Are you going to carry me like this the whole way?" You asked with annoyance in your voice.

"Yes." A hint of embarrassment crossed the male's face at the use of his full name. 

Several curses were muttered in a low voice as the eyes of the citizens of Velaris focused on you and the male who carried you, one of your arms still trapped in his hand. 

Some citizens looked curious while others laughed, but they all whispered about the reason for such a view. 

"Rhysand, people are looking." You mumble with a pat on his back.

"I know," were his words as he sent smiles and slight waves in the direction of his citizens, as if this were some kind of show - one he was enjoying too much for your taste.

Using his daemati powers, Rhysand sent a message to his family - a message warning them to prepare themselves.

- 

"Well, this is a new view." You heard Cassian's voice when you and Rhys finally entered the Townhouse's living room.

Rhys stopped in front of the couches where his family sat, some of them with drinks in their hands, "Sorry it took so long. I had to walk." 

A tap on Rhys' back sounded through the room followed by a small murmur of "Prick" coming from you. 

"Hey" Rhys tried to scold you at the same time you said "Does my ass look good from back there?"

Rhys sighed loudly, earning a few chuckles from the people in front of him.

They had been talking about Rhys's warning before you arrived but they couldn't deny that your actions were funny despite the situation. 

"Was this really necessary, Rhys?" Feyre asked with a small smile gracing her lips.

"Believe me, it was." Rhys began to gently place you on the ground before rising to his full height again and placing his hands in his pockets. 

You turned to face the rest of your friends and managed to catch the surprise that crossed their eyes when they saw you in your new outfit.

"Hello." You greeted them with a slight nod. 

"You're late, girl. Did you lose track of time?" Amren asked you while drinking from her glass of wine.

"No, I just didn't want to come." Was your response before grabbing the glass of whiskey that Cassian was passing to Rhys and sitting on the couch between Nesta and Elain. 

Nesta turned towards you and said softly, "I've been trying to talk to you these last few days." 

"I've been busy." You said without looking her in the eye.

Nesta furrowed her eyebrows at your behavior. 

She had received Rhys's warning just like the others but she really thought things would be different with her.

That even though you were different with the others, you wouldn't be with her and that she would be the person to go through you, just like you did for her a year ago. 

When you saw Nesta opening her mouth with the intention of speaking again, you were quick to cut her off "So are we going to start this meeting or not? Since I was dragged here like a sack of potatoes." You mumbled the last part.

The High Lord cleared his throat before beginning "I had a meeting with Eris the other day. Apparently Beron allied himself with the human queen Briallyn who in turn allied herself with Koschei." 

"We need to know Beron's plans are with this new alliance and that's exactly what Eris is doing. I'm going to meet with him again in two days and that's where you come in, Y/N."

At the mention of your name, you looked at the male who was already looking at you. With a raise of your eyebrows, he continued "I need you to come with me to the meeting and read Eris. I need to know if he is being honest or not." 

You chuckled "Why would he lie?" 

"He has lied before." Azriel spoke for the first time since your arrival.

You looked at him with a cold look, and everyone else could have sworn that the temperature in the room dropped when your colorless eyes met his.

"So have you." You didn't hesitate to respond. You saw him flinch and stared at each other for a few more seconds before he looked away and you continued "So has everyone else in this room. Except Elain of course. Perfect, sweet and innocent Elain would never do that."  

You looked at the female with a fake smile and it was at that moment that you realized what was in front of you.

Azriel and Elain sitting on different sofas far from each other without any kind of physical or visual contact.

As you exchanged glances between the two, a smile began to form on your lips at the realization. 

Lifting a finger you gestured between the two of them before trying to express your curiosity "What's wrong with the love birds?"  

When no one responded, it didn't take long for you to speak again. "Trouble in paradise? Oh, wait. I know. You finally remembered Lucien."  You finished with a laugh. 

You saw Azriel's jaw throbbing in frustration and as you were really enjoying this new view, you decided to continue.

You moved closer to Elain and placed your arm around her shoulders before telling her loud enough for everyone to hear, "In my opinion, you should choose Lucien. You know that rumor that Autumn males have fire in their veins and also fuck like it?"  

You heard Rhysand swear in the background, giving you a new smile and encouraging you to continue. "Well, it's true. Eris proved that to me the other night."  You finished with a wink in her direction. 

"Y/N." Rhysand called you out with his High Lord voice. 

"What? It's the truth," you laughed and started to get up to leave.

Upon seeing you get up, Feyre was quick to gently grab your wrist and turn you towards her, she held your hand with both of her hands and said calmly "Did you receive our letters?"

You looked at your joined hands before answering her "I did."

With a slight nod, she asked again "Did you read them?" 

You looked at her and when you saw your friend's face, you let your guard down for a second and tried to read her emotions instinctively.

But then a movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

Azriel was filling his glass and in sight of the male, you remembered why you did what you did to protect yourself.

For that same reason, you moved away from her touch and with a cold voice you gave her the answer she didn't want to hear.

"No. In fact, I throw them away. With the exception of your letter, Azriel," you turned to the male who froze in his place with your voice addressing him, "I burned yours." 

And with that you started to make your way to the front door with Rhysand behind you to take you home, just like he had told your aunt, leaving your friends shocked without knowing what to say about this new version of you. 

Cassian followed you to the door and stopped you before you could open it. "You never came back to the House of Wind."

Upon meeting the General's eyes, after your interaction with Feyre, you realized for the first time that where affection and love for your friends used to be was now empty. 

"I moved out. I'm living with my aunt again." A shrug accompanied your response. 

"Why?" He asked you. 

The truth is that you felt embarrassed. 

Embarrassed about that night.

Embarrassed that you cried in front of your aunt and your friends.

Embarrassed that you fell in love with a male who had no interest in you.

Embarrassed that you let a male make you feel this way, that you gave him so much power over your emotions.

Embarrassed by how weak you felt. 

But not anymore.

Now you feel nothing.

And that's exactly how you wanted it. 

You didn't bother to answer him before turning your back on him and disappearing into the darkness of the night with Rhys by your side.

-

The office door opened softly letting the light of the faelights fill the hallway. 

Feyre slipped inside before spotting her mate standing in front of the desk with a book that by the looks of it must be very old as he inspected the pages.

"What is that?" Feyre's voice echoed through the silent office, making her mate's violet eyes meet her light blue ones.

"It's a book about rare powers, it has several chapters about empaths. I borrowed it from Helion after Y/N came to the house." He explained with his eyes returning to the yellow pages.

Feyre laughed lightly as she recalled how her friend had arrived at the residence. "You mean when you had to carry her here?"

Rhys tried to laugh but a weak smile was all he could muster. The small gesture did not go unnoticed by the High Lady, nor did the concern on the male's face.

"You're worried about her, aren't you?"

With a long sigh, Rhys stood up to his full height and faced his wife, "Very. Something happened to her and we don't know what," as he crossed his arms over his chest, he leaned against the wall before continuing "She's different. She's insensitive and arrogant. That's not our Y/N."

The last sentence made Feyre's heart tighten a little - she felt it too. They all did and they all missed their friend. 

"Did you notice the way she looked at Azriel?" Feyre asked, when she saw how you looked at the male, she thanked to the Mother that she wasn't the one on the receiving end of it "It was like she never felt anything for him, like she hated him. It was scary actually."

Rhys's eyes widened as the realization made its way through his mind. "Like she didn't feel..." he muttered softly and approached the book again.

Confused, the female approached the desk trying to figure out what Rhys had just realized, as he started flipping through the pages faster and faster.

Feyre was surprised the pages didn't tear considering how old they were and how quickly they were being flipped through. 

"Rhys?" 

The High Lord stopped at a page and after reading it and rereading it several times, Feyre heard his heart starting to race.

Very slowly, Rhys raised his head to meet his mate's eyes and with a low voice he finally revealed the reason for his reaction. "She turned them off."

"What?" 

His heart started to beat even faster "Her emotions. She turned them off," Rhys ran a hand through his hair making it even more uneven, "Y/N turned off her emotions."

Shock began to course through the High Lady's body and she didn't hide it when she was invaded by it. "Is that possible?"

At her question, Rhys turned the book towards her and let her read the information he was still trying to process. Everything started to make sense.

"The way she talks, her clothes and the fact that she doesn't care about anything...all of this because-"

"Because she doesn't feel anything." Rhys finished for her.

As he opened his mouth to speak again, several knocks on the wooden office door interrupted him.

Clearing his voice, Rhys gave the order for the person behind the door to enter. 

It was quite late, with most of their family having gone to their respective rooms a few hours ago, but the couple couldn't hide their surprise when the person knocking on the door turned out to be Nuala.

"Nuala? Is everything okay?" Feyre asked.

The half-wraith stepped forward and without revealing anything in her features, she replied "I'm not sure, High Lady. I came to inform you that Lady Madja is in the living room and has asked to speak to the Inner Circle immediately."

Even more confused than before, they both questioned why would Madja be here in the middle of the night.

Nuala continued "Lady Madja said it was urgent. It's about Y/N."

At the mention of your name, two sets of chills went down the couple's spines and Rhys was quick to give Nuala a new order "Wake everyone up." 

-

The Inner Circle met in the living room with Madja among them.

Rhys proceeded to explain what he had discovered about you just moments ago.

The book now sat on the old healer's lap as she reread what her niece had done with tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

Madja knew something was wrong with you but she would never have guessed that this was the reason behind it. 

"So, she doesn't feel anything?" Nesta asked. 

If this matter had been about anyone else, she wouldn't have bothered to show her sadness but you weren't anyone else. You were her best friend. Her sister.

"Yes." Feyre said with a lump in her throat.

The room fell silent as everyone tried to process this new information. 

In the corner of the sofa, Cassian blamed himself for not having noticed sooner and not having done anything to help; Elain kept looking around the room with the feeling she was being judged and Azriel was rethinking all the signs you had given him that he hadn't noticed.

"It's no one's fault," Rhys' voice caught their attention but his attention was only on Cassian, "We had no way of knowing this. Without that book we wouldn't even know this was possible."

The General hadn't even realized that his shields were down but his brother's words brought him comfort. 

"What do we do?" Mor spoke for the first time since entering the room "How do we get her back?"

Hurt flashed across Rhys's face and before he could respond, Madja did it for him. "We can't," all eyes turned to her and for the first time since they had known the healer, they saw her cry.

"Y/N is the only one who can turn her emotions back on. It's up to her and only her," with new tears falling down her cheeks she concluded, "There's nothing we can do." 

Feyre placed a hand on the old female's shoulder. "I'm so sorry Madja." 

Madja let out a long sigh and before she could hesitate any further she said "That's not all. There's a reason I came here tonight."

"What do you mean?" Cassian asked.

"Y/N's personality isn't the only thing that has changed."

The room became tense and several breaths were held.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Amren asked and if Madja knew her better, she would have sworn she had just heard a hint of fear in Amren's voice.

"I've been trying to figure out why for several days but this..." she pointed to the book, "this explains everything."

With all eyes focused on her, the old healer begin to explain "A few days ago I put Y/N to treat a boy's knee. She grabbed one of his leg and when she put it down there was a bruise in the same place her hand was. Y/N assumed she just hadn't seen the bruise before but that was because the boy didn't have any. I was the one who sat that boy in the chair and the only thing he had was the wound on his knee and nothing else. I would have noticed the bruise if he had it." 

"What are you trying to say, Madja?" Rhys asked, he could feel that with every word the old female spoke, everyone became more nervous. 

"After the boy," Madja continued, "she attended to a male who had ingested a poisonous plant by mistake. When she used her magic to heal him, he started spitting blood from his mouth and became very pale. Y/N thought that the poison was stronger than she thought but when I came to help the male...I managed to cure him without any problems." 

"Madja, what are-" Nesta tried to ask.

"I think...," Madja ran a hand through her black hair, "I think when Y/N turned off her emotions, I think it affected her powers too. When I saw her trying to heal that male, her powers weren't emitted by a white light like all healers." 

Mor's voice shook as she asked "What was it?"

Madja stared at the blonde female before telling her "Darkness."   

Several curse words passed through the room, increasing the tension that was already in the air.

"I think Y/N gave the boy that bruise and I think when she tried to take the poison out of the male...I think she ended up spreading it." 

"Over the next few days, each time Y/N used her powers to heal the patients...they all got worse. Eventually, I had to put her to work behind the counter so she couldn't hurt anyone else."

This new revelation of your powers only made a bad situation even worse and much, much more dangerous.

It is already quite dangerous for a person not to be able to feel anything as this means that they cannot distinguish right from wrong just as they cannot understand when to stop but to have their powers changed?

Amren set down her glass of wine before speaking "If you think about it it makes sense," she began drawing all the attention to her "When Y/N turned off her emotions, she turned off everything that was a part of her, including her own person."  

"What does this mean?" Nesta asked with fear on her face not only for what this could mean but also for you. 

Azriel was the first to realize with Amren's words being the last piece of the puzzle he needed  "Mother help us. Madja, you're not trying to say that Y/N is now a..."

The male couldn't find the strength to finish his sentence but it wasn't long before Cassian continued where he left.

"A what?" He asked, eyes bouncing between his brother and the healer. "She's a what?" 

With a long sigh, Madja said "Y/N is no longer a healer."

No one was prepared for Madja's next words. They didn't know what to expect when she came to their house in the middle of the night but they never would have thought of this turn of events.

They would never have guessed that their friend's pain was so deep that it would cause this to happen. 

"Y/N is a necromancer." 

A/n: Thank you for reading!

[Masterlist]

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the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[cherie-doll]

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: You’ve Got Sleeping Issues

ᶻz Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

‎܂ ｡ ༢ medicine isn’t enough i need someone to knock me out with a shovel (for all my insomniacs <3)

Ghost

Oh, what do two insomniacs do with each other on restless nights?

He used to be alone on these nights, listening to the ticking of the clock as the hours cruelly pass by without granting rest

Now you both sit in silence watching the reborning sun and it’s kind of enjoyable now

Pulls out a bottle of NyQuil and takes turns taking shots until either you or him or both simultaneously pass out

Soap

When he’s with you he wants to do everything with you; including sleeping

He’s visibly upset that you can’t sleep but he’s not mat at you, he’s mad at whatever prevents you to cuddle next to him under a heap of blanket and pillows at night

You’re often tossing and turning in bed, fidgeting with your hands as you pace around the bedroom that it wakes him

You try and coax him to go back to sleep but he’s up and determined to stay up with you bingewatching tv shows, trying weird snack combinations, etc…

Gaz

Tries out everything to get you to sleep

From adjusting your routine to diet choices before bed

He knows you hate taking pills and it’s the last thing you resort to by doctor’s orders

He adjusts your pillows and blankets on your side of the bed, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as you drift off to sleep

Gently cradles your head as he lays you down on your back

And doesn’t sleep until he hears your breaths change and the pulsation of your heart, at ease knowing you’re finally resting

Alejandro

You have terrible nightmares that prevent you from getting a peaceful sleep

Anytime you awaken in a panic; cold sweat, hands seizing and tugging at your shirt, feeling your heart thumping wildly in your chest

He wakes up right away upon hearing your quickened breaths

“It’s alright, I’m right here cariño”

Touching foreheads, light touches on your arms and neck to sooth you, holds you close to him, intertwining fingers

Taking you to the window where you can observe the moon, “see the moon? Look at how she shines… focus on her lustre.”

Phillip Graves

Turning over in bed, his arms searching for you only to find you in a slouched position

“Hard time falling asleep doll?” He drags out his words, words slurring together from having just woken up

When you whimper and nod he pulls you down with him, his hands pulling you against his chest and placing sweet and comforting kisses on your head as he caresses your hair, softly humming

Spooning you is one of his fave ways to feel your body against his, wants to feel as if he’s protecting you and wishes he could lull your mind

Keegan

Knows you’re likely to fall asleep at random times of the day due to fatigue

With a tap of his finger on your wrist he’ll signal for you to rest your head on his lap

He’ll take to trailing his hand up and down your back, following the outline of your spine with his index finger, slower and more deliberately

Speaks very low and softly to give you reassurance he’s there, leans down and places a soft kiss on your cheek once you’ve fallen asleep

König

He takes one look at you and immediately knows you did not sleep

And yet, even if you watched the moon descend and the sun rise your cherub eyes are as loving and warm as they meet his

Whilst he was asleep, you inched closed and wrapped his strong arms around your body

Now he’s awoken to holding what he considers dear, you, enfolded in his arms gently

Cuddles and stays curled up next to you until you drift off to sleep, even if it’s only for a little bit

Horangi

At night, before bed he prepares teas, warms milk and anything else he can think of to get you to sleep

As daybreak enfolds he finds you yet again with dimmed eyes, signaling you did not sleep

You feel as if a river rushes through your bones as he strokes your back in circles, whispering softly in your ear

The soft, golden glow of the sun makes this scenery seem dreamy as your eyelids feel heavier

He watches until you fall asleep and subtly slips out of your arms, tucking you into bed and closing the curtains to let you sleep in and catch up on your sleep

Nikto

He’s either out like a rock or is tossing and turning unable to quiet his mind

In the silence, thinking you’re asleep, he reaches out to your form to engulf in your warmth only to find you awake when he glances at your face

You open your eyes and he freezes, already starting to retreat before you clutch his hand close, not letting go

“Sorry…for waking you” he mumbles, before you tell him you can’t sleep either

He’s silent for a moment before he softly says, “come closer” so he’s spooning you as you inhale his scent and fall asleep, your body rising with every breath; you’re like his stuffed animal 〜(⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝)♡

[xinganhao]

🧣 svt (taylor's version).

⌗ ┆love song edition ★ ₊ ˚ heartbreak edition.

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: established relationship, pet names, friends to lovers, second chance romances, [light] angst, fluff, you name it! suggestive joke (seokmin) + cussing. drabbles under the cut.

🧣 hit play .ᐟ

SEUNGCHEOL QUEUED 🎧 i once believed love would be black and white, but it's golden. (DAYLIGHT)

when seungcheol comes to, the sun has yet to streak through the windows. he shifts in his bed, only to freeze at the feeling of something solid pinned to his side. he relaxes immediately when he remembers that he's no longer sleeping alone. for a moment, he just stares at you— the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the muffled way you snore. he doesn't know how he got so lucky, really. he doesn't know, yet, if he deserves this. after all, seungcheol has wounded the good; seungcheol has trusted the wicked. he tries not to dwell on it. instead, he leans down to press a lingering kiss to the top of your head. he will deserve it, he thinks to himself as he holds you just a little closer. he will do everything in his power to make sure he's worthy. outside, daylight breaks.

JEONGHAN QUEUED 🎧 you can hear it in the silence; you can feel it on the way home. you can see it with the lights out. (YOU ARE IN LOVE)

it's snowing. jeonghan doesn't have a winter coat and it's snowing. he looks disgruntled, but the expression falls flat as he watches you skip down the sidewalk. "careful," he calls, as if you need the warning. he tries to resist when you take his hand; that's another futile thing, though, because he's never been able to deny you. and so he lets you twirl him round and round. he lets the snow soak in to his shoes. he lets the cold wash over him, focusing instead on the weight of your fingers between the spaces of his. a snowflake catches on your eyelash and he instinctively reaches over with his free hand to push it away. something shifts, then, on his own face. a strange look. the telltale sign of an epiphany. "you're my best friend," jeonghan blurts out. you know exactly what he really means to say.

JOSHUA QUEUED 🎧 they say the end is comin', everyone's up to somethin'. i find myself coming home to your sweet nothings. (SWEET NOTHING)

joshua has had one of those days. you know the type. the days, weeks where so many voices just seem to be telling him, "you should be doing more." more, more, more. they always want more of him. more than he can give. more than what he has. it's overwhelming, but joshua has something to tide him by. it's there when he gets home, when he toes off his shoes and pads in to his apartment. it's there in the kitchen, humming a song that he can't quite place yet. it's you. he comes up to you and wordlessly wraps his arms around your waist. maybe you're cutting vegetables. maybe you're baking. whatever it is, he'll always press a soft kiss to your shoulder— not to distract, just to have and to hold. he's admittedly too soft for all of it, and you're the only thing keeping him afloat.

JUNHUI QUEUED 🎧 i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this. (PAPER RINGS)

"why do mondays have to exist?" jun whines as he practically entangles his entire body around yours. it's a bit of a moot point; his job didn't give him the leeway of weekends, anyway. he's not whining about having to go to work. no, he's whining about losing you to work. you give him a fond roll of your eyes as you attempt to clamber out of your shared bed, but your best friend-turned-boyfriend refuses to budge. "how about i just marry you, hm? you'll never have to work a day in your life," he teases, burying his face in the crook of your neck. when you tease him something along the lines of where's the ring, he pauses for only a heartbeat. and then he's letting you go, reaching at the bedside table, pulling out a receipt from god-knows-where. he makes quick work of it. "there." jun slides the paper imitation on to your right hand's ring finger. "gotcha!"

SOONYOUNG QUEUED 🎧 please take my hand, and please take me dancing, and please leave me stranded. it's so romantic! (NEW ROMANTICS)

no one knows a good time quite like soonyoung. he's the perfect companion when you're down or frustrated; he knows exactly what to do with your heartbreak. sure, some people see him as a party boy, but he doesn't mind the image. if anything, he's a little bothered assumptions that he has a soft spot for you. that is, until he takes you out after your nth disastrous date. the two of you end up driving down some expressway, the music blasting oppressively loud from his car speakers. at one point, he pulls open the sunroof for you. it's late in the evening. you're screaming the lyrics to his favorite song, the wind whipping at your hair, cutting your vision in to strips. and soonyoung is laughing as he glances at you through the rearview mirror, as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. the rumors are terrible and cruel, but the one about his soft spot— well, that one might just be true.

WONWOO QUEUED 🎧 these hands had to let it go free, and this love came back to me. (THIS LOVE)

wonwoo returns as quietly as he left. the boy sitting across from you at your neighborhood café is not the jeon wonwoo you once dated; this boy is older. maybe a bit wiser. he's more careful with his words and he carries himself with much more grace. some things haven't changed, though. the crescent shape of his eyes when he smiles. the amused lilt of his voice. and the way he looks at you. that hasn't changed either. he's not outright asking for a second shot, but it's in every measured word. you never hated him for the choices that he made. still, you can't help but ask, "are you done running, jeon?", which translates to: is this you coming back? this time, he doesn't weigh his response. "yes," he says to both the question you asked aloud and the one left unspoken. if you squinted, if you tried, you might still see the boy you love underneath the idol.

JIHOON QUEUED 🎧 my baby's fly like a jet stream, high above the whole scene, loves me like i'm brand new. (CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT)

in your personal opinion, jihoon looks the best during soundcheck. one might think he's most attractive during concert proper or maybe off-stage. but there's something about this more pared down version of him— dressed in casual wear, rapping lazily in to the microphone— that reminds you just how insanely alluring your boyfriend is. he's fit like a goddamn daydream and it shows in how he moves. your absolute favorite part, though? it's something so subtle, a blink-if-you'll-miss-it type of thing. he spends most of his soundchecks with his head down, his head bobbing along to the music flowing in from his in-ears. but, without fail, he gravitates towards the stage side you're on. he'll linger by the left; he'll stay entirely on his right. whether or not he's conscious, it's you that he always walking to.

MINGYU QUEUED 🎧 they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly. i choose you and me religiously. (GUILTY AS SIN?)

mingyu adores you so openly that it's almost blinding. there's absolutely no way he could wrong you, leaving you to be the one who often deals the deeper cuts. even then, though, even when you've caused him ache or pain, he's patient. he's kind. he'll stew silently in his hurt as he places a reassuring hand over your thigh, like the mere touch is life-giving to him as well. m-i-n-e, he traces over your pant leg. "you think it's hard to love you," he'll say in an oh-so soft voice. "but to me, it's easy as breathing." there's no exaggeration in his words, no attempt to guilt trip or gaslight. he says it like it's an indisputable fact. the sky is blue, the sun is warm, and kim mingyu loves you. "so, just—" his voice will crack. he will try so hard to be strong, to let you know that you don't have to be perfect; you just have to be his. "breathe for me. please, just love me."

SEOKMIN QUEUED 🎧 can i go where you go? can we always be this close, forever and ever? (LOVER)

"can i just say," seokmin stage-whispers as he leans in a little closer to you. his breath tickles your ear as he teases, just enough for the two of you to hear. "i didn't know going to an ex's wedding would be so fun!" there's a bright gleam in his eyes, one that wasn't there when his heart had been blue. he has you to blame for his belief that all's well that ends well. still, he has a nagging suspicion that everybody in this wedding reception wants you. you'll call him silly when he bitches and moans about it, though you're helpless to indulge him when he invites you on to the dance floor. his calloused hands are gentle as he glides you along, as he dips you and spins you and shows you off to everyone. it's a good party, but seokmin's favorite part of the night will inevitably be taking you home.

MINGHAO QUEUED 🎧 i'm setting off, but not without my muse; no, not without you. (THE LAKES)

there's something to be said about minghao finding a way to drag you along on his supposed live, laugh, love trip. you thought he would want to be alone while soul-searching. instead, he's found a way to integrate you in to his rare vacation. you swim in cliffside pools; he paints auroras and wisteria. it's on these getaways that he allows himself to be just a little softer around the edges. to call you sweet nothings like beloved, like my muse. when you ask him about it, it takes him some time to put it in to words. "i like having you around," he'll say as his brush glides over his canvas, as his pen leaves marks on his palm. "i don't feel like i have to be anybody when i'm with you." he's a man of calamitous love, of many names. the8, myungho, minghao. with you, he can just be.

SEUNGKWAN QUEUED 🎧 and isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? (INVISIBLE STRING)

there are at least four times where seungkwan and you were parallel lines. equidistant, not quite meeting, or with degrees of separation. there's the childrens' song festivals and the tangerine-picking events; there's the friend of a friend, the aunt who said she had a 'nice man to recommend'. years and years later, when the two of you do inventory of your lives, you're surprised with just how close you guys came to each other every single time. "you mean to say i could've dated you much earlier?" will be his first takeaway, packaged as a joking complaint. much later, though, as he thinks of all the little things that led to this or that— he can't help but think of the stories he used to scoff at. he ought to issue apologies to all of them, he thinks. seungkwan initially didn't believe in destiny or fate, but what other word is there to describe you aside from 'soulmate'?

VERNON QUEUED 🎧 think i know where you belong, think i know it's with me. (YOU BELONG WITH ME)

"i ended things with her," vernon tells you casually, one afternoon. it's a vague admission, especially since he's never been all that clear about what 'thing' he had with the 'her' who caused him so much grief. still, it's a welcome thing. maybe now he can stop moping all the time. when you ask him if he regrets it, he gives you a one-shouldered shrug. "i'm good. think i need to get my eyes checked, though." you're chiding him for insulting his ex's appearance when he amends, "that's not what i meant! that's not what i meant!" a beat. his voice is a little on the shy end, now. "i was trying to say— i think i'm far-sighted or something. like, how did i not notice what was right in front of me?" this time, it's your turn to pause, to let the double meaning of his words sink in. when he sees the cogs in your brain turning, vernon offers you a nervous smile. "i'm not too late, am i? you still with me?"

CHAN QUEUED 🎧 you wanting me tonight feels impossible, but it's comin' down, no sound, it's all around. (SNOW ON THE BEACH)

to fall in love is a joy in itself, but to do it at the same pace and at the same time is nothing short of a miracle. chan realizes that when he finds the courage to confess. you're not early or late; you don't meet him halfway. you want him the exact same way that he does and it makes him smile like he's won a goddamn contest. "if i'm dreaming, don't wake me up," he breathes as he stares at you, his eyes bright and wide and impossibly fond. he's scared to jinx it, to wish for it, but you're looking up at him with an adoration that's in equal measure. how could he doubt that? he sweeps you up in a hug that knocks you off your feet. it's the type of scene that you used to only see on screens, except chan's love is very, very real, and it's all for you.

★ this was made possible by the suggestions of some truly lovely people ´◡` tysm to circusprincesss, taeraegyat, mercif4l, seungkwansflower, sunkissedyo, geminirum, flipflopscrop + anon!

[happy74827]

He’s Got The Fire

[Johnny Lawrence x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: To your surprise, Johnny shows up at your window unannounced, but it doesn’t take long to realize it’s not for kicks {GIF Creds: pilvimarja}.

WC: 2076

Category: Slight Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff, Introverted(ish)!Reader

Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t started writing this franchise earlier given how it’s about equal with my love for BTTF

『••✎••』

The sun had already gone down a while ago, the air was crisp, and the sky was starry. It was the perfect evening to watch the moon rise. The wind carried a chill, and the trees were almost bare, swaying in the breeze.

With a sigh, you closed the book you had been reading and stretched your legs, looking out the window of your room. By now, everyone had been asleep for a few hours, and you worked on upcoming assignments to pass the time. But when you had gotten to your last one, you just couldn't be bothered anymore, so you set it aside.

The quietness was nice, and the light from the moon cast a blue-ish glow on everything around you. You were so calm, but there was still something that had you feeling off.

Johnny.

He was never around much lately. It wasn't surprising, but it was disheartening. Ever since that championship loss a while back, he had been training even harder, and when he wasn't training, he was out doing god-knows-what.

You understood how important Cobra Kai was to him, but the fact that he was putting everything else on the back burner really had you worried. He had a tendency to go down the wrong path and not think about the consequences until after the fact. You hoped that wasn't what was happening this time.

Pulling your knees up, you rested your head on them and looked out at the night. There was a full moon, and you wondered if Johnny had noticed. He used to love taking walks at night just to see the moon and look up at the stars.

He had changed so much since then. That fire inside of him burned so brightly that sometimes you wondered if it would burn him, too.

Sitting like that for a while, you lost track of time. It was easy to get distracted and drift away from reality when your mind wandered. It was something you were trying to work on, and you were actually doing pretty well.

Until you heard a pang on your window.

Sitting up, you looked around, wondering if a bird had flown into it, but you saw nothing. Your mind immediately went to a branch falling or something like that, and you were ready to dismiss the strange noise and go back to daydreaming.

But the pang came again, and your heart leaped in your throat. You stood and cautiously moved toward the window. At the same time, a face popped up from below, and you shrieked.

He motioned for you to open the window, along with attempts to hush you. It was a very frantic gesture, and you felt your heart rate rise. You quickly opened the window and stuck your head out.

"Johnny?!" You whispered-yelled, and he was pulling himself up. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh!" He held a finger to his lips and looked behind him, and your eyebrows furrowed.

"Johnny-"

"Do you want the whole neighborhood to know I'm here? Let me in!"

You stared at him for a moment longer before helping him through the window. It didn’t go as smoothly as one would expect, like the movies, but he managed to tumble in. You stood there, arms folded, as he dusted himself off.

You haven’t seen him in so long, and the day you choose to miss him, he shows up out of nowhere. You would’ve called yourself psychic if it weren’t for the fact that Johnny always did the unexpected.

He looked… good, to say the least. The red jacket still fit him perfectly; his blonde hair was combed and fluffy, and his eyes were still focused and alert, even if his body language seemed a little sluggish.

To be honest, Johnny was the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on. His sharp jawline, his toned muscles, and that cocky smile of his. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and the way he always looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.

For a while, you didn’t understand why he chose to pursue you, of all people. He could have anyone he wanted. You weren't exactly a social butterfly, and you always got nervous and shy in the presence of others.

Johnny was the opposite of you. He was outgoing, and his charisma attracted everyone to him. And the way his voice was so smooth and deep. He could be the most annoying person on the planet, but when he said your name, you would melt.

So when he asked you out, you thought it was some sort of joke. I mean, he was the hottest guy in school. And you were just… you.

But then you realized there was more to him than just the bad boy exterior. He had a sensitive side, and his vulnerability was endearing. His family was… well, a lot. His mom was nice, but she had her fair share of issues, and his stepfather was a piece of work.

It only took one date to realize the Johnny you were accustomed to wasn’t the real him. The real him was like you… except he could kick ass and had some pent-up anger issues.

And yet, here you were.

"Johnny-" You began, but he stepped toward you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You stood stiffly, arms at your sides.

"God, I've missed you."

That was the last thing you expected him to say. You felt your face heat up, your chest warm up, and your shoulders slumped. You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him.

"I've missed you too."

You could feel him grin against the top of your head, and he squeezed you a little tighter. He was so warm, and it made you forget the fact that he was literally climbing through your window at almost midnight.

After a minute or so, he pulled away and held your face in his hands. You were looking into those piercing blue eyes, and you could feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice a little above a whisper.

He hesitated, and that was the moment you knew something was wrong. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I, uh… I needed to see you."

You raised an eyebrow, but you didn't say anything. You were waiting for him to elaborate, but when he didn't, you sighed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the bed. You sat on the edge, and he followed.

"Johnny," You said, turning toward him and placing a hand on his knee. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

"Nothing, I just… wanted to see you."

You didn't say anything. You knew better than that. So you waited.

"Okay, okay," He sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna lie to you, but I can’t tell you why."

"That's reassuring."

"It's just… things are… well, I just needed to get away. It's nothing, I'm fine, don't worry."

You were silent. You didn't really know what to say. There was so much going on, and it was hard for you to believe him when he told you not to worry.

"Is it… Is it Sid? Your mom?"

"Just…” He shook his head and stood, rubbing the back of his neck. He started pacing, and that was when you knew he was really upset. “Just drop it, alright? Everything's fine."

“You ignored me for the past two weeks, Johnny. Something is wrong."

He stopped and glared at you, and you froze. You were taken aback by the expression on his face. He seemed frustrated and almost angry.

The look… you knew it wasn’t directed at you, but you couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. He was always so hot-headed and stubborn, and when his mood shifted, you had a hard time knowing what to do.

He seemed to realize his expression and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh.

"Sorry, God, I'm sorry, it's not you. I'm just-" He sighed and plopped back down on the bed next to you, running his hands over his face. "I'm a fucking mess, okay? Just forget I came."

It was weird how, in certain situations, you could completely shift into a different person. You’ve seen it in movies and TV, and it was a cliche. You didn’t think it would ever happen to you.

And yet, the second you heard the words come out of his mouth, you were hit with an overwhelming urge to turn his head towards yours, grab his face in your hands, and kiss him.

So you did.

You couldn’t really tell him why you did it. It just felt like the right thing to do, and it was an impulse. You figured it was the best way to let him know that you were here and he wasn’t alone.

The second your lips met, he was leaning into you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. You could feel the passion and desperation behind the kiss, and it took you a moment to match his energy.

He was rough and intense, and he pulled away after a few moments, moving to your neck. You gasped and gripped the collar of his jacket, feeling the heat of his lips on your skin.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. And it was true. You had missed him more than you had thought. You had almost forgotten how much of a force he was to be reckoned with.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to form words, but failing. Instead, you tugged on his jacket and pulled him towards you, hoping he would get the message.

And he did.

His lips found yours again, and he was pushing you back, holding himself above you with one hand. His other was moving up your shirt, his fingers grazing your stomach, causing goosebumps to rise.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers danced across your ribs. His lips were rough, but they moved with such grace and delicacy it was hard to keep up.

He pulled away for a moment, and you looked up at him, catching your breath. His blonde hair was messy, and his eyes were a little hooded. He looked like a mess, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

You reached up and brushed his hair back, giving him a soft smile.

“Is that…” His eyes peered away from you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Do you still have that damn elephant?"

Your eyes followed his, and you spotted the elephant in question. It was a gift Johnny had given you back when things were different. Come to think of it, you weren’t even sure you were together at that point.

"Why wouldn't I?" You asked, and he chuckled. “Ozzy's special."

"You named it? What are you, ten?"

You swatted his arm, and he laughed again. His eyes found yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. It felt like old times.

"Don't make fun of him. You gave him to me."

"Yeah, whatever," He rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. "Can't believe you kept him."

"I keep a lot of stuff, Johnny. Especially when they're meaningful."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes still focused on you. The moonlight was shining through the window and casting a shadow on his face.

"I keep a lot of things, too."

Before you could say anything, he was leaning down and kissing you again. You could tell this one was different, more meaningful, like he was pouring his heart and soul into the kiss.

And he was.

He wanted you to know how he felt about you without actually saying it. And although you weren’t really sure what was going on, you had a feeling this was what it was.

The fire inside of him was burning again, but finally, after so long, he realized that he needed to take a breather every now and then. Add some water to the flames.

It was a delicate balance. And although he may be bad at showing his feelings, talking about them, or acknowledging them, you were there to make sure he didn't lose himself in the heat.

And maybe, just maybe, the flame was a little more subdued, and the burn a little less harsh.

[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 6: Undertow

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel does his best to distance himself after that morning on the yacht, but you finally have enough of his games after attending an art gallery exhibition.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, jealousy, sexual tension, flirting, threat of physical violence, good ol' fashioned argument where reader demands some goddamn answers, fingering

A/N: thank you @txtattoostark for beta-ing ❤️ And Happy Birthday @pedropascalsbbg 🎂

WC: 8.7K

Series Masterlist

You weren't going to beg. At least, that's what you told yourself over and over whenever Joel grazed a hand over your back at dinner or you caught him staring at you in your bikini just a little too long.

It had been five excruciating days since the yacht. Five days since that morning you shamelessly fucked yourself on his lap. And five days since you had found another envelope of cash on your pillow after you took a shower. You had stared at it, stomach churning with shame before you tossed it in your bag with the other unopened envelope. You had held out hope that the morning on the yacht would finally tear down his walls and he would let you in, but the cash on your pillow told you that you were wrong.

Ain't part of the deal.

Was that all this was? Were you too naive to think there was something more developing between you?

More than once that week you laid in your bed and wondered how he managed to get you all twisted around so fast. You don't let people steamroll you and you know your worth. That was his assessment of you when you first met, and he was right. That first day in his office you could hardly stand his overly confident and pompous attitude. You stood up for yourself and had a fucking spine. So where did that girl go?

Why don't you hear my terms first and then decide how much your dignity is worth?

How much was your dignity worth now? You rolled onto your side and pulled your knees to your chest, your stomach suddenly feeling queasy. You've never, ever acted this way over a man before. Was it because he kept rejecting you? Were you really that vain? No, that wasn't you. It was something more. You liked him... or, at least, you liked the parts of him he allowed you to see.

And, you don't quit. You're determined.

You breathed out a heavy sigh and rolled out of bed, giving up on the idea of sleep. You had plans to get lunch with Zoe that afternoon but until then, you had nothing but time to kill. Joel had thrown himself back into work the minute you came back from the yacht, so he spent most of his time doing that or he joined Glenn and the others to golf or play cards in the afternoons. He rarely came up for air. If he joined you by the pool, he stayed in the lounge chair, no matter how warm it was, but you could feel his eyes on you when your back was turned. You knew deep down this attraction wasn't one sided, but his resistance was driving you insane.

It was early. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting the living room in a dark blue hue. You sat with your legs tucked under you on the couch, your robe pulled tight over your sleepwear with a cup of coffee clutched between both hands, watching as the sun began to rise over the ocean.

Stop feeling bad for yourself. You're in fucking paradise.

"Oh, you're up."

"Jesus!"

You swiveled around in surprise when you saw Joel standing between the kitchen and living room, panting and covered with sweat. Your eyes swooped down before you could stop them to take in his drenched shirt and athletic shorts before looking him in the eye.

"I didn't even know you were gone," you said while trying your best to ignore the very physical reaction you were having to a post-workout Joel.

"Got an early start," he said before reaching into the fridge for a water. You turned back towards the windows to continue watching the sunrise because if you didn't, your brain was going to short circuit.

It was silent for a few minutes and you had assumed Joel had went to his room to shower, but suddenly he spoke up directly behind you. "Any plans for today?"

You took a sip of coffee so you could resist turning around to gaze at him with big fuck-me eyes. "Just lunch with Zoe."

He hummed while he chugged his water. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up from his proximity, but you remained firm and refused to turn around.

"Meant to tell you last night - Glenn invited the group of us to his daughter's art gallery. She's the curator there," Joel rounded the couch and sat down next to you with a grunt, causing you to tug your legs closer. "She's got some exhibition show all weekend, supposed to be a real big deal for her. Told 'em we'd go and show our support."

You nodded and took another sip from your coffee, eyes still glued to the ocean.

"Alright."

He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed you a credit card. "Why don't you go shoppin' with Zoe and get yourself a dress?"

You finally tore your eyes away to look at the heavy, black card dangling from his fingers.

"I think your assistant already bought plenty of options."

"So what's one more?" he asked with a little grin. He tilted his head to the side and caught your eye before saying, "I want you to pick somethin' out. Not my assistant. Want you to get somethin' you like."

The gesture was weak, but it was there, so you slowly took the card and slid it into the pocket of your robe. "Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome, darlin'," he said breezily before standing up to head towards his room. Only then did you allow your eyes to slide appreciatively down his back, your gaze lingering until he disappeared down the hall. You set your coffee mug down on the table before pulling the heavy credit card from your pocket to examine it. He infuriated you with how easily he was able to disregard what happened while you had spent almost every waking moment for the past week obsessing over it. Then a slow smile spread across your face as you tucked the credit card away for safe keeping.

If he wanted to play games, you could play right back.

"Holy fuck, girl," Zoe gasped when you stepped out from behind the curtain of the fitting room. She was holding a glass of champagne daintily between her fingers, her long legs crossed over one another as she perched on the edge of a pure white sofa. "That's the one. You have to get it. Joel's gonna lose his shit."

You grinned and turned towards the three panel mirror in front of a small platform. Stepping up, you swished the red satin material back and forth, admiring the way it hugged your curves but the eye was particularly drawn to the long slit up your left leg, ending mere inches away from your hip.

"You think so? You don't think it's a little much for an art gallery?"

Zoe shook her head and stood to join you in the mirror. "No, it's absolutely stunning. It was fucking made for you."

You couldn't stop smiling as you fiddled with the off the shoulder sleeves. "Alright, fine," you conceded as Zoe giddily clapped her hands.

After you carefully stepped out of the dress and handed it to a sales clerk, you put your own clothes back on and made your way through the store to the register when something else caught your eye.

You picked up a matching red silk thong with black lace embroidery, feeling the smooth material between your fingers.

"No brainer," Zoe said before you even questioned if you should get it. You giggled and tried your best to ignore the absurd price tag and brought it to the counter with you. You handed over Joel's credit card while the sales clerk carefully wrapped up both items in what you thought should be solid fucking gold given the price of everything in the store, then you were both on your way back to the hotel.

"Good use of an afternoon, if I do say so myself," Zoe said with an easy laugh. You had to agree, although for a different reason. For the first time all week, you felt like yourself again. The shame and the embarrassment didn't have room in your head while Zoe kept you entertained over lunch. You thought when it came time to shop for a dress with Joel's money, those feelings would come rushing back, but no. You felt confident and sexy and if Joel's reaction to your new acquisitions was half of Zoe's, you would finally have the upper hand.

By the time you arrived back to your room, you were feeling worlds better. You quietly shut the door behind you in case Joel was on a call and kicked off your strappy sandals before making your way into the living space. Joel turned around from the dining table to glance your way once before turning back to his laptop.

"Have fun?"

"Mhmm, thank you," you told him, sliding his card across the table. His eyes flickered from the card to your face to the wardrobe bag and small box in your hand.

"Found somethin' you liked?"

You grinned and nodded vigorously. "Very much."

Joel could pick up on your improved mood almost instantly and a wave of relief washed over him. He kept fucking things up with you, but that was no surprise. What was a surprise was how bad he felt when it became apparent you were hurt by something he did or said. He convinced himself it was all for the best, anyway. The more he pushed you away, the easier it would be.

"That's great," he said, eyes trailing after you as you walked towards your room. "Goin' to meet Glenn and the others for golf in a bit." He fucking hated golf, but he sucked it up to rub the right elbows. "You gonna be alright on your own for dinner?"

You glanced over your shoulder and nodded. "I think I'm just going to sit out by the pool and call it an early night. Didn't sleep too well."

You disappeared inside your bedroom and he focused back on his work. You must have went outside because it was so quiet, he became so engrossed in work that he nearly lost track of time. When the calendar reminder popped up on his phone, he quickly shut down his laptop and stood, gathering his things so he could run and get changed, but he only made it one step away from the table before he froze.

He swallowed thickly when he saw you sunbathing, which wasn't out of the ordinary but this time you had chosen to remove your bikini top completely, leaving it discarded in a pathetic little pile next to your chair. You were face down so he couldn't see anything except your perfect ass covered by a deep purple, barely there swimsuit bottom, but it was enough to send a rush of blood between his legs.

He had been doing so good. He forced himself into staying busy, staying away from you, because otherwise he knew it wouldn't take much to tear down what little defenses he had left, especially after that morning on the yacht. And now here you were, practically laid out on a silver platter for him once again while he fought with his inner demons.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, he began to move slowly down the hallway, the destination his bedroom but his eyes remained glued to the window at the end of the hall. He was within arms length of his room. If only he had moved just a hair faster because then he wouldn't have seen you sit up to get a drink of water. He wouldn't have seen the towel you had been laying on get stuck on the arm of the lounge chair. And he wouldn't have caught a quick but very revealing eye full of your bare chest.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as he continued to stare, feeling like a creep but still unable to move. You had quickly covered back up, unaware he had seen a thing as he stood cemented to the ground outside his bedroom, his cock uncomfortably hard. So hard that it made his stomach hurt.

He should have fucked you when he had the chance.

No, that would be wrong. You had no idea the type of man he was, and you deserved far better than him.

But maybe you would like him anyway.

He shook his head, muttering no under his breath as he tore his eyes away from you and slipped inside his bedroom.

He wouldn't fall for it. Not again.

"Glenn's daughter's name is Rose," Joel had told you in the car. He was forcing himself to stare out the window instead of your exposed leg in that slinky fucking dress that made him lightheaded the moment he first saw you in it. "His youngest. It's her first big exhibition as a curator. Supposed to be mostly abstract art from a local artist that's growin' a large following online."

You hadn't been to an art gallery since you were in high school. Art was never really an interest of yours and it was a topic you knew very little about, so you prayed nobody would try to test your knowledge at any point during the night.

When you first stepped into the modernist building, you had to take a moment to absorb your surroundings in awe.

The floor was a shiny, dark hardwood that contrasted nicely with the off white walls which held stunning paintings around the entire room. There was the occasional piece of furniture, a couple of chairs or a table, but the room was designed mostly with space for movement in mind.

The room itself appeared to have three or four partially closed off smaller rooms, most likely created that way so the artist could break up different sections of their collection. And most of the lighting came from the small spotlights hung directly above each wall so it allowed guests to view the works of art in the best possible light.

"This place is beautiful," you whispered so only Joel could hear. He had his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, hardly giving his surroundings a second glance when he had you looking like a piece of art right next to him.

"Hey, Miller," a deep voice said from behind, startling you both. Turning around, you tried to keep your face from falling when you were greeted by Scott and Tammy. Scott stretched out his arm and Joel reluctantly removed his grasp on you to shake his hand.

"Some place, huh?" Scott remarked, glancing around at the art while you and Tammy tried to avoid looking at one another.

"Yeah, seems like a really talented artist," Joel replied. Scott shrugged and made a face just as a young woman in her early twenties walked slowly past, all alone, and stopped in front of a blue and pink painting.

"Abstract ain't really my thing," he said, "I'll have to take your word for it." You frowned and looked around incredulously.

"Are you kidding?" you asked without even thinking. All three looked at you in surprise and the young woman nearby tilted her head to listen.

"What do you mean?" Tammy asked with an air of fake politeness.

"What I mean is this artist is extremely talented," you said, sweeping your arm out to your side to gesture to a wall of paintings. "Look at the way they used complimentary colors in each piece. Look at the texture. I don't know much about abstract art, either, but if you can't feel something when you look at these paintings, you probably should check your pulse."

The young woman smirked to herself and walked away while Scott and Tammy stared at you in surprise. The corner of Joel's mouth twitched and he ducked his chin into his chest.

"N-no, you're right," Scott stammered guiltily, taking another look around the room. "It's always good to broaden your horizons and try to find enjoyment in things you don't expect. Right, Tam?"

You smiled sweetly at them both as you felt Joel's hand slink around your waist again.

"Yes," Tammy hissed through her teeth. "Of course, you're right. Why don't we go admire the paintings that look like someone kicked a few cans of color over the canvas and called it a day?"

Scott's ears turned a little red and excused them both. While they walked away, you caught them angrily whispering to each other and you turned to smirk at Joel.

"Sorry," you told him. He just shook his head and steered you in the opposite direction.

"No, you ain't."

You giggled. "Yeah, you're right."

Then much to your surprise, he leaned over to kiss the top of your head. Before you had a chance to react, you were greeted by Glenn and Mary.

"Oh, there you are!" Mary exclaimed before wrapping her fingers around the shoulders of a beautiful blonde girl who appeared to be in her mid twenties. Her hair was brushed back into a neat, professional bun and she wore a white blouse with flowing sleeves and well fitting black slacks.

"This is our daughter, Rose," Mary beamed. You both eagerly shook her hand and introduced yourselves before you added, "This is such a lovely gallery, thank you for having us."

"Pleasure's all mine," she said with a wide grin. "Truthfully I was terrified only five people would show up."

You laughed and glanced quickly around the packed room. "Looks like it's a little more than five."

"And I'm so grateful," Rose said sincerely. "The artist is so talented that I would have felt horrible if we had a poor showing."

"Where is the artist, anyway?" Glenn asked.

"They have an anonymous persona, it's how they prefer it. Even online, no one knows their real name or what they look like. Took a while before they even trusted me enough to meet face to face," Rose explained with a smile and shrug. "Genius tends to bring along little quirks."

Shortly thereafter, someone else stole Rose's attention and with a quick wave to Glenn and Mary, Joel led you away to look at the art a little closer.

"So, what'dya think so far?" Joel asked, plucking two glasses of champagne from a serving tray before joining you in front of a pink and blue painting that caught your eye earlier. You thanked him softly for the drink and continued to stare at the painting.

"I'll be honest, I thought I would hate it but I think I'm in love," you joked. Joel chuckled and gestured to the painting with his glass.

"You like this one?"

You nodded and took a sip of champagne. "It reminds me of something," you said, tilting your head to the side, studying each stroke of blues, pinks and bits of white throughout the canvas. "I find it so peaceful to look at."

He nodded in agreement and inched a little closer to your side. "So it makes you feel somethin'."

You flushed and averted your eyes. "I hope that didn't embarrass you."

Joel shook his head. "'Course not. I liked it. I like when you stand your ground and speak your mind."

"Careful what you wish for," you chuckled. He grinned and let his eyes roam up and down your body for a moment before blowing a disbelieving puff of air past his lips and shaking his head.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?"

Butterflies erupted in your stomach and you wanted to kick yourself for being so weak for him.

"Thank you," you breathed, watching as his eyes continued to devour you. "I picked it out for you," you added a little nervously. His eyebrows shot up and you held your breath as he leaned in a little closer.

"That right?" he murmured, knuckles dragging gently down your arm and sending a shiver down your spine. "Thought 'bout me when you were tryin' on dresses? Wondered what I would like the most?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, eyelids growing heavy as you fell under his spell with ease. "And I got something else, too," you whispered, knowing full well you were pushing it, but you couldn't resist.

It took him a moment, but he figured out what you meant. You could see it in his eyes when they flickered down to your waist and then back up. They turned a shade darker and his jaw tensed, like he was physically trying to restrain himself.

"Careful," he warned lowly. The way he said it made you wonder if he was talking to you or himself.

"Or what?" you teased, cocking your head to the side playfully. He maintained his intense stare for another moment before dragging his gaze away and clearing his throat. His eyes found the painting again and he jutted his chin towards it.

"You really like it that much?"

You blinked, trying to keep up with the quick change in tone. At this point, you weren't sure why you were surprised anymore. Turning back to look at it, you nodded.

"Alright, then," Joel said firmly. "Excuse me."

You swiveled around and watched him weave his way through the crowd, making a beeline for Glenn, Mary, and Rose. You had to stifle your laugh when you realized what he was doing, but then you made eye contact with a set of dark brown, almost black eyes next to Rose and the smile slid right off your face.

Of course Brooks would be there. Why didn't you think of that sooner?

When you spun back around to give the painting one last look, you were surprised to find a young woman standing next to you admiring the painting, as well.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, then tucked a loose piece of brown hair behind her ear. The rest of her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she wore a midnight black suit with a matching tie.

"No need, I wasn't paying attention," you said sweetly. The pair of you stood in silence for a few minutes while the laughter and clinking glasses from the other guests occupied the air.

"Isn't this piece beautiful?" you asked her, trying to strike up a conversation. She grinned and shrugged.

"What do you find beautiful about it?"

You looked back at the painting, letting your gaze slide over the differing shades of blues, pinks, and whites.

"It's calming," you said. "I feel like I've seen it before but I can't pinpoint where."

The young woman nodded, urging you to continue.

You studied it a moment longer and then let out a dry chuckle. "You know, I'm gonna sound crazy, but there are these pink seashells in the ocean. My fiancé picked some up for me when we were swimming last week. It reminds me of the way they looked through the water, like the pink all distorted with the blue."

"That's exactly right."

You turned to her in surprise. "W-what do you mean?"

She stuck out her hand and you could see the beginnings of a tattoo running up her sleeve. "I'm Ellie. The artist."

"Oh, my god!" you practically exclaimed, covering your mouth before remembering your manners and shaking her hand, giving her your name. "You are incredibly talented," you told her, "and I swear I'm not just saying that."

"I know," she said, releasing your hand and shoving it back into her pants pocket. "I heard you defending me to that asshole and that overly botoxed wife of his. Thank you, by the way."

You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "You're so welcome." You looked back at the painting as you tried to calm your racing thoughts. "So the seashells on the ocean floor inspired this?"

"Yep," she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. "That one over there's palm trees in a tropical storm. The one next to it is all the different colored beach umbrellas at a resort. And the one all the way in the corner is -"

"Wait, let me guess."

Ellie smiled. "Okay."

You studied it for a minute, tapping your finger against you chin, deep in thought.

"Oh!" you said excitedly. "All the hibiscus flowers along the highway!"

She nodded with a look that told you she was impressed.

"How'd you tell?"

"We drove by them on our first day. You used greys at the bottom and bits of green in between, representing the bushes, right?"

"You got it," she said with a laugh.

"Wow," you breathed as you looked around at her paintings in a completely different light. "I know I sound like a broken record, but you're so talented. You truly have a gift."

"Thanks," Ellie said shyly. "I don't do good in crowds though, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone who I am."

"Promise," you said, giving her your pinky finger. She grinned and looped her finger around yours with a firm shake, and then her phone chimed in her pocket. She let you go and pulled it out, her expression unreadable.

"This painting just sold," she said softly, eyes slowly widening. "Shit, I'm sorry. I would've-"

"It's alright," you told her, glancing over your shoulder, but you couldn't spot Joel anywhere. "I think I know who bought it."

Ellie breathed a sigh of relief and put her phone away. "The fiancé?"

You nodded. "I should probably go thank him."

"Thank him for me, too," she joked. "It was great meeting you."

"Likewise," you said, giving her hand one more shake. "Good luck with the rest of the evening."

You weaved your way through the crowd, heading towards the back of the building where you last saw Joel. On your way, you caught Zoe's eye from across the room and waved, laughing when she fanned herself and gave you an exaggerated once over.

"Hi, honey," Glenn said when he spotted you walking by.

"Hi... have you seen Joel?" you asked, then Brooks piped up with an sinister smile.

"Think he went towards the bathrooms with Scott's wife," he told you, pretending to search his brain while his foot tapped restlessly against the wooden floor. Then he snapped his fingers as if struck with a great idea. "Tammy! That's her name, right?"

Your blood felt like fire in your veins and it must have shown because Brooks grinned and shot you a wink before you hurried off towards the back of the room.

The bathrooms were down a long hallway and around the bend. You walked as fast as you could without the sound of your heels causing someone to think you were running. As you approached the turn, you heard Joel's voice before you got a chance to see him. You couldn't hear what he said over your own heavy breathing, but his tone sounded surprised.

When you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks, unable to believe your eyes.

There, right in front of the men's bathroom, was Tammy. She was pressing her lips against Joel's with her long, fake fingernails raking through his hair. You were too stunned and just barely had a moment to process the shocked look on Joel's face, one where his eyes didn't even close and his brows furrowed in anger before he pushed her back and wiped his mouth with his hand.

Before he had a chance to say anything, someone shouted down the corridor, causing them both to swivel in your direction. It wasn't until you had almost closed in on them that you realized you were the one shouting.

"You fucking bitch!" you yelled, lunging forward, completely fueled by white hot rage. Joel's arms wrapped around you before you could hit her like you intended, but you did manage to get your fingers around a good chunk of her hair. She yelped and clawed at your wrist, begging you to let go, but you ignored her pleas. Instead, you shook her head back and forth like a dog and it wasn't until her hair-do was almost completely destroyed that you finally let go, but not before angrily kicking in her direction while Joel hauled you away.

"You fucking psycho!" she screeched, frantically trying to tame her hair as she stumbled against the wall. "Nothing even happened!"

"Stay away from my fucking fiancé or so help me, I'll undo a decade of plastic surgery in ten minutes," you sneered.

"Relax!" Joel told you sternly. He turned his attention to Tammy, who was catching her breath and looked like a dissolved mess. "Get outta here," he snapped, and just like that, she scurried into the women's room to try to fix her hair.

He released his grip around you and you immediately turned on him.

"What the fuck?" you seethed, jabbing a shaky finger into his chest. He held up his palms and shook his head.

"You saw it, I didn't kiss her back, I need you calm the fuck down right now."

You dragged in a deep, ragged breath but you were still driven by unbridled anger.

"You told me this was over," you said through clenched teeth. Joel grabbed your wrists but you shook him off and stepped back. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand propped on his hip.

"It is," he said calmly. "She was waitin' for me and - y'know what? I don't gotta explain anythin' to you," he glanced up and down the hallway before dropping his voice and towering over you, anger now radiating off him. "Do I gotta remind you this ain't real?"

Tears sprung up in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. "I don't care. Anyone could have come down this hallway and seen you, and then what? Huh? What if it was Glenn? What if it was fucking Scott?"

He knew you were right, but he just silently glared down at you, each of you breathing heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off.

"I'm leaving," you told him, gathering up your dress and straightening it out. "I'm so sick and tired of your fucking head games and I won't stay here and let you embarrass me any longer."

Something in his expression changed but you didn't linger long enough to find out what it was. You bunched up the skirt of your dress and quickly walked away, doing your best to move fast without breaking a heel. You heard Joel call your name but you ignored him, hellbent on disappearing into the crowd and getting away from him as fast as possible.

Something inside him broke when you said you were leaving. Something deep in his chest he didn't expect to feel, and suddenly he was overcome with an immense amount of guilt and shame. He needed to apologize. He needed to make things right.

Shit, did you mean you were leaving for good? Or just leaving the art gallery? Why did he keep saying the wrong fucking thing?

Panic coursed through his veins in seconds and he found himself rushing after you. He must have looked like a fool when he raced out of the hallway and back into the bustling gallery, head twisting around every which way as he desperately searched for a flash of your deep red dress, but all he saw was a sea of unrecognizable faces.

"Better keep an eye on that one."

Joel spun around, eyes wild, when he came face to face with Brooks.

"Which way did she go?" he asked. Brooks just grinned and casually swiped at his nose with a sniffle and Joel narrowed his eyes.

"Where?" he said, dropping his voice angrily. Brooks held up his hands and chuckled.

"Calm down," he warned, making the hairs on the back of Joel's neck stand up. "She looked like she was going towards the side exit. Looked pretty upset. Hope there's no trouble in paradise."

Something about the way Brooks said it gave Joel pause.

"No," Joel said, eyes flickering towards the door, "We're fine. She just wanted to head back to the hotel."

Brooks nodded and rubbed at his chin. "That's a relief. I'd hate for someone to come along and snatch her up from you."

"What did you just say?" Joel asked, taking a menacing step forward before catching himself. What the fuck did that mean?

"C'mon, you know what I mean," he replied, nudging Joel's shoulder good naturedly as if he were in on some joke. Joel clenched his teeth and tried to refrain from doing something stupid, and if he wasn't Glenn's son, he might not have held back. "Girl like that needs to be taken care of."

"I take care of her just fine," Joel said defensively, and as much as he wished he could figure out exactly what Brooks thought he knew, he didn't have time to waste. "Tell your parents she wasn't feelin' well and we had to leave."

Before Joel stepped away, Brooks winked and gave him a thumbs up. "Sure thing, man."

He hurried through the crowd, a chorus of excuse mes being uttered from his lips every other second until he finally reached the door.

The moment he stepped outside he was hit with the tropical humidity he had somehow grown accustomed to in the past two weeks, but also finally found some quiet.

He took a moment to take a few deep breaths and look around. When he spotted you further down the street with your arms wrapped around your middle and your dress fluttering in the night breeze, he breathed a sigh of relief.

You were waiting for the car to pull around with your chin tucked into your chest and he swore if he had made you cry again he would never forgive himself. But when you heard him approach and lifted your head, he didn't see tears. Instead, he saw disappointment mixed with anger.

He couldn't decide which made him feel worse.

"I'm sorry," he tried, but you shook your head as the car pulled up to the curb. He tried to reach out and open the door for you but you didn't allow it, so he hurried around to the other side of the car and slid into the seat next you.

Once the driver pulled out onto the street, he readjusted himself in his seat and turned to look at you.

"Not here," you said coldly before he could speak, gaze pinned to your window. He clamped his mouth shut and sat back. It was smart. He couldn't risk the driver overhearing something and spreading rumors, so instead he focused on what he was going to say to you to make things right once you were back in the room.

I'm sorry, she doesn't mean anything.

Would that imply you do mean something to him? Of course, you did, but he couldn't share that with you. Not after he just told you twenty minutes prior what you had wasn't real.

I'm sorry, this situation is more complicated than you thought.

Somehow he thought that wouldn't go over well.

He knew what he should really say but he couldn't bring himself to do it. I'm sorry for confusing you and leading you on. I can't help myself, I'm weak.

So instead, he settled on I'm sorry, you were right. If someone else saw, it would have ruined everything.

That is exactly what he said to you once the hotel room door finally closed behind you and you kicked off your heels, snatching them up in your hand and storming into the living room.

"Yeah, no shit," you muttered over your shoulder.

"C'mon, you know what you saw," he pleaded, "you know she took me by surprise when I was comin' outta the bathroom. I had nothin' to do with it. I told you it was over and it is, I don't know why-"

"Good question, Joel," you said, spinning around to pin him with a glare. "Why did she think she could do that? Hm?"

Joel shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Alright, let me ask you this," you said, dropping your shoes to the floor and perching against the dining room table. "What did she say to you on the yacht?"

"When?"

"You know damn well when," you snapped. You were getting too fed up now to play nice and it felt liberating to have that side of you back once again. You don't let people steamroll you. "When she followed you inside that day before the island dinner. When you told me, I only need to know what you say I need to know. Well, Joel, I need to know. So fucking tell me. What'd she say?"

His nostrils flared when he took a deep breath. People didn't talk to him like that. If it were anyone else, he would send them packing without a second thought, and maybe with a few choice words in return. But you? He couldn't do it. He couldn't stomach the thought of losing you.

"Fine," he grumbled, yanking out a chair at the table next to where you were standing and collapsing into it. He tugged at his tie, loosening the knot so it hung wide at his neck, then unfastened the top two buttons of his dress shirt before he spoke.

"She was surprised to hear 'bout our engagement. Wondered why I didn't warn her. Asked if we're happy. Usual beatin' 'round the bush shit."

You quirked an eyebrow and crossed your ankles. "What do you mean, beat around the bush? What was she really asking about?"

He raked his fingers through his hair and shrugged. "Y'know. Lookin' to see if I was interested in meetin' up with her during the stay."

"And what did you say?"

He rolled his eyes and gave you a disbelieving look. "The hell you think I said? No. I fuckin' said no."

"And she still kissed you after you said no on the yacht?"

"Yeah," he replied, crossing his arms and glancing up at you. "Think you ruffled her feathers a bit. Got her jealous."

You scoffed and looked away but secretly you found a sick sense of satisfaction from it.

"Happy now?" he asked after the silence dragged on a moment too long for his liking.

"Thrilled," you said sarcastically. You clasped your hands together in front of you and stared down at the floor. He watched you for another minute, feeling the energy in the room begin to shift back to normal, and he smirked to himself.

"What?"

"Never had two women fight over me before," he said with a wide smile, one which he tried to cover with his palm when he dragged his hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, well," you murmured, fiddling with your ring, "I would have wrecked her if you didn't stop me."

"I got no doubt," he replied, his hand dropping to find your exposed knee. Now that you seemed less pissed, his focus was being drawn back to you wearing that dress just for him. And then he remembered your earlier comment and it took every ounce of restraint not to slide his hand up your thigh and under your skirt to see what else you had on.

"We were havin' such a nice time 'fore all that happened," he murmured, his gaze wandering up and down your leg and you felt yourself begin to soften. "Think you were sayin' you bought more than just the dress, hm?"

Goddamnit, how did he do it? How did he manage to pull every emotion out of you in just one evening?

"You wanna see?" you asked, hoping he didn't hear the tremor in your voice or notice the way your legs fell open a fraction more.

He lifted an eyebrow and smirked, gaze still fixed on your bare leg while his hand began to migrate further past your knee.

Yes, he wanted to say. Yes, please show me. Let me see all of you. But he caught himself and his hand stilled.

"Why don't you just tell me, instead?"

"Or you could just move your hand a few more inches and find out for yourself," you teased, spreading your thighs a little more. His fingers pressed into your skin and you saw him swallow.

"Can't, y'know that."

You let out a frustrated huff and pushed yourself off the table, away from him.

"You're confusing the fuck out of me, Joel! One second you're all over me and the next you're pushing me away. And don't try to tell me it's all for show. You do this shit all the time."

You marched into the living room and plopped down onto one of the couches. You were fucking tired. Tired from the rollercoaster evening, tired from Joel's mixed signals, tired from everything.

He stood up with a groan and followed you to the living room, raking his fingers through his hair as he moved.

"I'm tryin' to protect you," he snapped, startling you. "I don't fuckin' trust myself 'round you, don't you see that? Don't you see what you're doin' to me?"

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stood in front of you, imploring you to understand with a pained look on his face.

"Then why are you fighting it?" you whined, standing up. As you approached you saw his shoulders stiffen, but he didn't move away. "Why can't we-"

"'Cause I ain't a good man, darlin'," he said sadly, gaze dropping to the floor. "You deserve so much better."

"But I like you," you told him softly, reaching out and taking his hand. You brought it up to cup your face while a war waged behind his eyes. "I refuse to believe you're not a good man, Joel."

You turned so you could press a kiss into the palm of his hand, then slowly guided his arm lower, all the while staring him right in the eye until his fingertips brushed against the slit in your dress. Your breath hitched as you led him lower, underneath the material until his fingers finally came in contact with the silky red panties trimmed with black lace.

"Fuck," he whispered, cheeks tinting pink and eyes all wide and dark when he felt the wet patch that had seeped through. After that, he couldn't stop himself. "Dirty fuckin' girl," he growled, taking a step closer so he could tower over you while two thick fingers pressed and stroked steadily over your panties. A breathy moan slipped past your lips and you released his arm so you could grab onto his shoulders for support. Joel wrapped his other arm around your waist and walked you back towards the sofa, all the while staring down at you like he was a predator who finally caught their prey.

You thought he would have laid you down but to your surprise, he twisted you both around at the last second and sat down on the couch, legs spread wide. He removed his hand from between your legs and you were about to protest when you heard the deafening tear of fabric. You gasped and looked down to see Joel had torn your brand new fucking dress from the slit up, exposing half your stomach.

"What the f-" you were about to scold him and tell him how much you liked that goddamn dress when he grabbed you by the hips and yanked you forward so he could bury his face against your clothed pussy. Your eyes bugged out of your head and you grabbed his hair to keep you steady, your shaky legs no longer able to be trusted. And when he took a deep, steady breath in through his nose, your face flushed with heat while staining the red satin of your underwear even darker.

"You smell so fuckin' good," he groaned before taking another deep breath. "Bet you taste even better."

"Jesus Christ," you whimpered, your fingers getting tangled in his hair. "Please, Joel, please..."

"Sit on my lap," he demanded, tearing himself away and leaning back into the couch. He slapped the tops of his thighs and ushered you forward with his fingers.

On shaky legs, you obeyed, spreading them wide so you could rest them on either side of his thighs. He stretched up to latch his mouth onto the hollow part underneath your jaw while his fingers resumed their torturous pace over your center.

"You're right, these were made to be seen," he murmured against your throat. Your hips began to rock, encouraging him to keep going with each little sound from the back of your throat. "Got these just for me, huh? Wanted me to see 'em?"

"Yeah," you whined, arms circling around his neck and jaw falling open as he brought you closer and closer to your climax without still having actually touched you.

"What'd you want me to do, baby?" he asked softly. Your breath was growing shallow and the noises you were making were getting louder and he smirked, knowing you were close from just a few minutes of petting you through your clothes. If this is how responsive you were from just his fingers, he couldn't fucking wait to take you apart with his cock. "Tell me. Did'ya want me to bend you over the table?"

You nodded and gasped when his fingers began to move faster. "Everywhere. In the car. At the art gallery. In the fucking elevator... fuck, Joel!"

His cock swelled in his pants, the material already too unforgiving and tight, when you came shouting his name. A shudder ran through your body when you slumped forward to rest your head on his shoulder, but unfortunately he didn't give you the courtesy of recovery because in an instant, he hooked the material of your underwear to the side and two fingers slid right into your soaked cunt.

You weren't sure who groaned louder, you or Joel, but it felt like both of you were equally desperate.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, sweat dotting your forehead and upper lip from the welcome intrusion his fingers caused. You forced yourself to straighten back up so you could grab his face with both hands and slant your mouth eagerly over his. His tongue immediately invaded your mouth and his wrist began to snap between your legs, causing your mind to go numb as you focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.

"Joel," you moaned in between biting at his lower lip. "I don't think I can come again."

"Yes, you fuckin' will," he said roughly. His free hand, which was clutching your hip, began to guide you up and down on his fingers. "You wanted me so bad and now you're tellin' me you can't come again? Gimme what I want and maybe I'll give you what you want."

You nodded dumbly and followed his lead, rolling your hips and then bouncing on his lap until you found what worked and you felt that familiar warmth building low in your stomach again.

"Keep going, just like that," you panted against his lips. He nodded, eyes so dark they looked black as he stared up at you. Your eyes were squeezed shut, too focused on chasing your high to see the way he was looking at you. It was probably for the best because he was fairly certain you would be able to see right through him in that moment and it scared the shit out of him.

"Oh, fuck, baby, that's it," he breathed, pulling you closer so he could hide his face against your throat. He could feel you tightening around his fingers and your nails were digging into his shoulders, the bite of pain sending shivers down his spine. Your moans grew more high pitched and your skin felt hot to the touch. He leaned forward on the couch and, circling his other arm around your waist, tugged you as close as possible while using the force from his entire body to thrust his fingers as deep as he could into your cunt, curling them inside you each time he retracted his hand.

"Oh, god, Joel," you whined breathlessly, stomach tensing the closer you came to your orgasm. "I think... I think I'm gonna-"

You cut yourself off with a shaky moan when you came for the second time, your entire body pulsing in his arms as your orgasm shot through you violently, taking every shred of energy you had left.

You murmured softly against his neck when he eventually dragged his fingers out of you. Your eye cracked open just in time to see him pop both fingers into his mouth and hum appreciatively to himself while still holding you close against his chest.

"You alright?" he asked before kissing the top of your head.

"You ruined my dress," you whispered sleepily. He chuckled, the vibrations from his chest melting into yours, making you smile.

"It's not funny. It was over a thousand dollars."

"Money well spent," he replied before tipping the back of his head against the couch with a deep sigh. He was still painfully hard but you were too weak and tired to do anything about it. He maneuvered you so your legs were no longer spread open on his lap, then hooked an arm underneath your knees. With his other arm around your shoulders, he stood with a groan and began to carry you down the hall.

Your own arms were still wrapped tightly around his neck and once he approached the bedrooms, you opened your eyes to see which room he would pick. It didn't surprise you when he turned into your room but you were too tired to really care.

"You oughta change outta this dress," he murmured as he laid you down in bed.

"Mhmm, I will," you promised, then smiled when he brushed your hair out of your eyes and kissed your forehead.

"Get some sleep," he said, and just as he was about to step back into the hall, you called out his name. He spun around, the sight of you spread out over your bed, all fucked out in a torn up dress giving him pause before he cleared his throat and responded.

"Yeah?"

"You better not fucking tip me this time."

You giggled when you saw the grin on his face and he shook his head in disbelief.

"'Night."

"Good night."

Once he left, you slipped out of the dress but you couldn't bring yourself to throw it out, so you zipped it back up in its bag and tucked it into the back of your closet before drifting off and feeling the calmest you ever felt.

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[absfawn]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ SUBURBAN BLUES ❞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤpairing. milf!abby x mechanic!reader

SUBURBAN BLUES, Abby Anderson, the southern peach of the neighbourhood, the sweetest to ever be in the bluebonnet state has built a family to be proud of. With a blue collar wife, Ellie, and her baby cub Remi to take care of her life should feel complete, whole. Yet on the cusp of a failed marriage, she’s lonely, struggling to do everything this household requires. She seeks solace in someone else and that friend just happens to be you. ⛧ warnings. not really any smut in this part, but still 18+, tooth-rotting fluff, a lil sprinkle of our dear old angst, flirting, mostly from reader, they are a heavy flirt oops! but abby secretly loves it, tehe wc. 5.3k masterlist.

There’s nothing like summer heat in the middle of August. In California, it could be more than brutal, the cruel heat waves penetration from the tall windows making Abby nearly sweat underneath the warm sun. As far as it was, it could surely make an impact. After nearly half the night, not to mention a few hours this morning, she finally got Remi to sleep. Even if she felt light-headed, her sweet baby’s screams turned into murderous knives each time they came hurling towards her head.

Ellie didn’t really seem to like getting up, only if she was asked. Abby got tired of asking so she would get up in the hour of rooster, cooing her six month baby back to sleep. Godbid anyone disturb her sleep. Ellie was the working one in the family, she was owed her rest, according to her.

As time went on, it was difficult on every level not to feel a certain kind of resentment. It rested on Abby’s tongue, a weapon to use as she wished. When she feels particularly exhausted, she reminds Ellie of why she’s so goddamn tired. Taking care of a child, much less a baby, is a full time job. Most days, she feels as if she’s doing it all alone. Without the help of her wife, the one who is supposed to be there, they choose to do this together but she can’t help but feel as if she’s all alone in this. 

It all boils over on a Sunday afternoon, heat rises as long with overflowing emotions, suppressed until Abby has finally had enough.

Ellie with her hand on her hips as pinches at her forehead, repeatedly rubbing over the skin. It’s a necessary fight to be had, she knows it even if she’d rather ignore it, Abby has reached her limit. With crimson cheeks, and an irate frown, she’s calm as ever but she talks so lowly, the only thing keeping her from screaming off the top of her lungs is her sleeping daughter upstairs. 

“You don’t help, Ellie. You’ve completely checked out. See? Even when I’m talking to you, you’re not here!” Abby snaps her fingers in Ellie’s face to regain her attention. “I might as well be expressing my concerns to a wall.”

“I’m listening.” Ellie argues. 

“Yeah, just about as well as you listen to Remi’s cries at night.” 

Abby knows it’s backhanded, she wants it to hurt but at this point part of her wonders if you’re even listening to her. She doesn’t even bring up the fact they haven’t had sex since she gave birth. Not a bone in her body wishes to vocalize her need for affection, to be touched, loved — cared for. 

Ellie opens her mouth for a countless number of excuses to tumble out but Abby knows her too well. She won’t have it, not for another moment. 

“Just do better, Ellie.” 

The remainder of the afternoon, Abby spends it with Remi. Feeding, burping before putting her down. Mindlessly, she focuses on tasks requiring no further though. Deep cleaning the fridge, finishing the laundry, and she vacuuming the living room when she finally breaks down. 

She wants nothing more than to smash their wedding picture to bits. Five years ago, she would have said it was the happiest day of her life, but now the day she had Remi was. Even if having her daughter reshaped her marriage for the worse, the only kind of magic she finds is those baby blue eyes staring back at her. 

She still has the love of her life even if it’s shifted from her wife to her daughter.

All Abby has time for is Remi, she can’t cater to a relationship where she’s the only one fighting for it. Ellie is content with hiding in the shadows of their issues, spending her time away from Abby in any way she can. This time Ellie goes for a run around the neighborhood, when she runs into you. 

It isn’t the first time, the two of you tend to go jogging at the same time. Ellie joins for a bit, but you’re usually passing her. It’s a bit of a bruise to her ego. Your endurance is better than hers, but you make fun of it, it’s really that big of a deal. It’s a nice stress reliever and it’s a stroke to your ego. 

Bending over the hood of your car, just in your black shorts clinging to your sweaty body and your sports bra slightly wet, Ellie approaches sitting next on the stool next to your massive tool box. They’ve spoken a few times, nothing more than surface level conversations. Small talks that numbs your brain, good enough to get rid of the silence but not enough for a friendship to blossom. 

“So,” Ellie pauses, “How much do you know about cars?” 

Ellie wants to slap herself in the face for being so painfully awkward, she might as well have stumbled over her words, that would have been less embarrassing. You stand up to your full height. Ellie would say it’s intimidating, just a little, especially when it always looks like you’re going to punch a bitch out if they say one wrong thing to you. 

You’re really the pariah of the neighborhood. Most of the time, you don’t come to cookouts assembled by the neighbors, you keep to yourself, the only time you’re ever seen by anyone is on the weekends, working on whatever car you’re flipping next. Jesse, the man who lives on the other side of Ellie, knows you work at a shop, but that’s the only detail anyone has seemed to pull out of you. 

“You know I’m a mechanic, right?” You gesture to the massive tool box, one that probably cost more than Ellie’s monthly salary. You shut the hood of the GT-R, clearly you weren’t going to get some silence but you didn’t mind, your back could use the break. Taking the towel out of your pocket, wiping the grease and grime off your hands and forearms, wiping the excess sweat off your head forehead.

“Well obviously.” Ellie says. 

As if you didn’t just have a drill in your hand moments ago. 

“What do you need?” You keep it short and sweet, especially the way Ellie is looking you up and down. As if you’re something to be devoured, you shrug it off, grabbing the tools you’d be using and dispensing them into the drawers. 

“It’s this collectible car, we have a 67’ camaro but it doesn’t run. We have a new motor for it and a new timing belt but I can’t replace it. I fucked it up the last time so my wife is adamant about me not touching it again.” 

You offer her a light chuckle, of course she fucking did. Idiots thinking they can do it after watching one video and then get stuck somewhere in the middle, fucking up the vehicle even more. At least Ellie wasn’t pretending like she knew what she was doing. Still, you didn’t know if you could get past the way she’s looking at you, a desperate need curved into her eyes. One you sure as hell would not be giving to her. You weren’t going to be caught in some fucking mess. 

More than anything, you enjoy your quiet life. Day in and day out, there’s solace in a steady life, no surprises. It’s the way you like it. Going to work, coming home and going for your evening run, working on cars until you're met with the midnight sky until the day repeats itself. It’s predictable, easy — comforting even. 

“It’s going to cost you, m’not free.” 

“Of course, whatever you want.” 

Curtly, you nod as if you’re asking if she needs anything else but Ellie sits there looking at you like a deer in headlight, emerald eyes so lost in yours but you’re just looking at her with a scrunched face and furrowed eyebrows. You’re positive you would find drool on your garage floor if you met her where she sat. You want to chuckle when she flexes her arms as if you’re supposed to be impressed by it. 

Ellie opens her mouth as if she wants to say something else, but you cut her off. Grabbing a business card, with your work cell on it and handing it to her. “Text me when you want me to come over and take a look. Just give me a little heads up so I can move around my schedule.” 

“Yeah, of course.” You chuckle as she stands up losing her footing as she stands

up. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around then. Maybe for our next run?” 

Our? 

“Sure, Ellie. Have a nice night.” You keep it short and sweet, scared she might try something else if the interaction lasts any longer. Closing your garage door, finally in silence away from the prying eyes of Ellie. Her poor fucking wife, you thought. Such a sleazeball for making starry eyes at someone you’re not married to. Regardless, you’ll keep your head down, you don’t want to get tangled into someone else’s mess. 

Treating yourself to a hot shower, you let the steam nearly suffocate. The water pressure hits your back perfectly, helping with some of the tension you carry from your shoulders. Today’s work finally catches up to your body, shutting your eyes as you let the water wash away the sweat and dirt, the muddy gray water pooling at your feet. It’s the most relaxing part of your day and you don’t take it for granted. Some days it’s the one activity you look forward to the most, as depressing as it sounds. It isn’t long until you’re falling asleep in your clean, cold sheets, soothing your body to a full night’s rest. 

—

You were running late. Sure, they live next door, and you wouldn’t have far to go, but shit you were late. You had promised you’d be there to fix the car at 10, and as you stumbled through the living room, trying to get yourself ready and boots on your feet, you noticed it was a little after 10:30 on the click above the stove, almost taunting you that you had overslept. Which wasn’t like you. You were always on time, maybe just a couple minutes early. 

Shrugging on your jacket the minute you step outside into the crisp air, you shoved one of your breakfast protein bars in your mouth, your toolbox tucked under your arm, and your hand quickly slammed the door behind you. Winching at the loud sound that echoes through your eyes. If you keep slamming things, you’re going to have to end up fixing the door every goddamn night.

You could tell Ellie and her wife, who you still have yet to meet, have lived here  for a while just based on how neat and tidy their garden was. The flowers still looked fresh, watered regularly, and overall the colors were beautiful. You’ve not been here a long time, but long enough to know that you barely see Ellies car in the drive, the spot usually empty whenever you go outside. Did she have someone to keep it that pretty? Her wife, maybe? Shrugging away your thoughts, you took a few long strides up the pathway, up the 3 steps and stumbled over one of the plant pots when you weren’t looking where you were going. Knocking the ceramic off the step completely and breaking just beside you with a loud crash.

“Shit, fuck!” You groaned, kneeling down to pick up the broken pieces carefully, nipping yourself in the process of trying to clean up the mess. “Jesus Christ.” You frowned, looking around, suddenly more nervous than you were for being late. “Fuck.”

You were so into trying to clean up the mess your dumbass had made that you weren’t fully focused on a certain blonde looking through the window on the door, watching you clumsily throw the small piles of soil into the other flower pots, still wanting everything to look as pretty as it did when you walked up their pathway. “Are you okay?” Came a gentle voice. A voice that caught you so off guard that you almost fell down the steps this time.

“Oh fuck, hi!” You stammered, standing to your full height when the door opened and a small giggle had caught your attention. “Shit, I swear I didn’t break it on purpose, I wasn’t looking where I was going and somehow walked right into it. M’sorry.” You apologized profusely, your breath getting caught in your throat when your eyes found baby blue ones staring back at you. 

Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, down her back, a soft smile tugging at her plump lips, one of the thin dress straps fell down her shoulder, and you didn’t know where to look all of a sudden. Her pretty face? Her freckled shoulder? Her legs? Shit, focus dumbass. “I spoke to your wife, well I assume she’s your wife, told me about a car that you needed fixing so uhm, here I am”

Really? Why are you nervous right now? She hasn’t even said anything.

“Or if you’re busy I can come back later—”

“You’re bleeding.” She cuts you off, eyebrows furrowed and it’s then when you realize she’s not even looking at you. More so looking down. Your hand was bleeding. How didn’t you notice or feel it?

“Sorry?”

“Did you cut yourself on the pot? Come in, I can fix it for you and you can tell me what Ellie told you.” You don’t miss the huff she lets out when she simply wraps her hand around your arm, and tugs you into her home. Hiding the blush on her face at the firmness of your muscles beneath her hand.

The coldness from outside was gone just as fast when you found yourself standing in the hallway, the warmth from the living room fire instantly stopped the small shake of your body as you watched her halt in her steps, turn around and quirk an eyebrow up at you. “Are you coming?” Her sweet voice spoke, soft and smooth like honey.

Fuck. Maybe.

“Yeah, yeah, m’coming” 

Your legs pick up, feet moving towards her while she slips into the kitchen, the fruit scented perfume filling your nose the more you walk, the more you follow her like a love sick puppy. Really, what the fuck are you doing? She’s married. “Is the cut deep?”

“It’ll be fine, seriously, you don’t need to fix me.” You chuckled under your breath. “It happens all the time, always breaking something and getting injured.” 

“So you're a clumsy person?” Her next question comes, looking at you with a soft smile. A smile you’ve never seen before. Especially not by someone so beautiful, so sweet. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m clumsy, sometimes I see things and I just get,” you paused, a smirk curving up on your lips when you find her looking at you, waiting for you to finish. “Distracted by pretty things.”

Her cheeks flush, something you don’t miss as she beckons you to sit on the stool beside the small island in the middle of her kitchen. “M’sure that’s it.” She giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“It is.”

“What did Ellie tell you?”

You turned your head and if it wasn’t for the fact you were sitting down already, your knees would have buckled beneath you and sent you flying to the floor when you found her bending down, reaching for what you could only assume was a first aid kit, and making soft grunts trying to reach it. “Jesus.” You mumbled, biting your fist.

“Did you say something?”

“Just that I like the flowers in your garden. S’pretty.”  You coughed, squirming around on the stool and trying to contain the thoughts swimming around in your head. Swallowing when she stands up and looks over at you. First aid kit in hand.

“Oh, thank you,” She smiled shyly, placing the small green box on the counter. “I love my garden, it helps me with stress. Minus getting my clothes dirty, I hate that part.”

I don’t. I’d love to see you in dirty clothes. 

“So you tend your garden?”

“If I left it to Ellie, they would all be dead.” The smile she gives you doesn’t meet her eyes. It wasn’t like the previous smiles she’s given you. It seems more emotionless. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Not used to talking to someone about hobbies I love doing,” Her fingers felt soft against your skin when she lifted your injured hand, your rough skin against her softer skin had shivers running down your spine.

“Your wife doesn’t talk about them?”

“Doesn’t really talk about much apart from work, but s’okay. I’m Abby by the way.” 

Once you introduced yourself, you shook her hand with your only good one and smiled at her. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Abby. If it helps, i would gladly love to hear about your other hobbies.”  

Abby’s breath hitched in her throat, was it because you wanted to know about her and all the things she loved, or was it because you were touching her? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t mind it. You were kind and gentle, something she hasn’t felt in a while. “I warn you, they can be boring.”

“Impossible. I will listen no matter what.” 

Abby was careful with your wounded hand, cleaning the cut with one of her antiseptic wipe gently, dabbing away the drying blood, as well as the fresh with a neatness you hadn’t see before. Just like her flowers, she took care of you like you were fragile, always mumbling what she was going to do next, warning you the antibiotic might sting a little. Stunned at how you didn’t even flinch, and then she was asking herself things. Were you used to getting injured? Had this happened before that you barely reacted to anything like this before? Abby had many questions, but then again, so did you. Of course.

“Have you guys been married long? Wait can I even ask that?” 

“You can, if you want a truthful answer,” Abby replied with a soft laugh that had your heart racing. “We’ve been married long enough to have a daughter, if that’s what you want to know. She takes care of her, in her own way, i guess.”

“We don’t have to talk about your wife, if you don’t want to. We can talk about more of your hobbies if you’d like. Or even talk about your daughter, i bet she looks just like you, hm?”

“Didn’t Ellie tell you about the car? I wouldn’t want to bore you with things about my life.”

“What about you is borin’, sweetheart?” God fucking damn it. 

The way you were looking at her made her feel seen. Of course, Ellie’s had looked at her before, but she’s never looked at her the way you are. Like you really wanted to know her, wanted to know her likes and dislikes. Looking at her like she was everything. You were looking at her like she was the only woman in the world, something her own wife doesn’t do. And she loved it. “I’m a mother who stays at home—”

“Who tends to her own garden, looks after and takes care of her daughter, fixes an injured person who was stupid enough to broke her really petty plant pot that i still need to clean up. Wouldn’t call you borin’, love, i would say that you just live life differently and none of that is borin’. I think it’s pretty beautiful, it seems like your wife is the borin’ person in this situation, but what do i know? Maybe the fact she makes you tend your own garden while you’re already takin’ care of your child. Not my business though, just an observation, if you will.” You shrugged, licking your lips and smirking at her. 

“She does care, in her own way.” Abby found herself defending her wife, a wife who barely see’s her. Why? Abby still loved her, or maybe she thought she did, she wasn’t so sure what she felt half the time. Ellie’s never there for the important parts. She misses the different yet small milestones her daughter makes and that makes Abby’s blood boil. If she can’t be there for her wife, she sure as hell can be there for her daughter.

“Never said she didn’t, Sweet. I’m just sayin’, if you were my wife, gave birth to our daughter, i would not let you lift a finger.” You found yourself admitting, eyeing her up a little more than you should be doing. Ellie, her wife, asked you to fix her fucking car, so why are you flirting with her wife? “I mean, those dirty clothes you mentioned, you’re telling me she doesn’t even wash them for you?”

“She has a job.”

“She also has a family.”

Wrapping the bandage around your hand, Abby pouted at your sudden wince and cleared her throat. “There, done.” The Blonde murmured, the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you, and before you could even do anything, Abby’s wiping them away and smiling again. “The car is in the garage—”

“M’sorry if i made you upset,” You sighed, reaching your hand up and wiping away the droplets that fell down her cheek. “That wasn’t my intention, you just, you’re doing everything, you know? S’not fair on you is all i’m sayin’.”

“I appreciate you worrying, but m’okay.”

“Well, I live across the street, so if you need someone to talk to, just come over” You smiled, the thud of your boots hit the floor as you push yourself to your feet and tugged at your jacket sleeves. “Right, your car.” 

Ignoring the fire in her stomach, Abby just nodded, moved toward where the keys were hanging up and grabbed the one for her car, completely oblivious to the way your eyes were raking her up and down, licking your lips and turning around just so you could keep yourself calm. “Okay, I think it’s this one— are you alright?” She giggled upon noticing you weren’t facing her anymore.

“Yeah, just hot in here, no?” You huffed softly under your breath. “Might be in for a heatwave this week.”

More like you’re in heat. 

“Well, if it gets too hot in there, i’ll bring you something to drink, if you want.”

Your eyebrow quirked up as you turned slightly, looking at her with that stupid fuckin smirk. Oh, what a pretty housewife she is, you thought. “Thanks, Sweetheart.” The petname rolled off your tongue so smoothly and in a way that had Abby’s stomach fluttering.

“Y—You’re welcome.” Well fuck.

Just as you grabbed the keys from Abby’s soft hands, the sound of loud crying rang through the baby monitor and had the blonde frowning but quickly smiling at you again. That smile was going to get you into trouble. You were fucked. “Shit, sorry, I need to go and feed her. If there’s anything you need for the car, it—”

“Don’t worry, Love. I got everything i need.”

This time, you didn’t miss the dark crimson blush Abby was sporting as she rushed out of the kitchen to attend to her daughter.

—

After the next few weeks, you’ve considered Abby to be a good friend. You didn’t mind listening to her problems, you very much enjoyed being there for her when no one else seemed to notice how much she struggled. Having a newborn and an absent wife was no easy feat, especially when you feel like you’re doing it alone. 

The amount of times you’d been able to be there for her were piling up, one after the other, bringing you closer to her. It’s the only reason you felt the need to wish her a good evening before you exit for the night. All the grease and oil on your body, the aching in your lower spine bending over the hood, you need rest — badly. 

Coming through the garage, her car started acting up and giving her trouble so she hastily called you, again — you couldn’t find her in the living perched on the couch, where she’d usually be with her daughter but you couldn’t find Abby there. You climb up the stairs, going into the nursery when you see her cradled in Abby’s strong arms, but she uses every ounce of a gentle hand when her daughter’s in her care. 

With her eyes shut, she couldn’t have been possibly aware of how exposed she should feel. The dress she’d been wearing pulled down to her waist, her upper torso exposed, but all you could focus on was her breasts. Full, breathtaking breasts, her baby girl suckling on the milk funneling into the infant’s mouth. You try to move, look away, save yourself but you can’t. As if your feet are nailed to the hardwood, you’re unable to move an inch, only in awe of the women in front of you. 

The beautiful blonde taking away every last breath you have. 

You’re thinking about how much you wish to touch them, feeling the soft skin in your palm, how sensitive they would be, thumb grazing her lactating nipple. Would she whimper, whine, or even let a moan fall from her lips? The squeeze in your thighs is involuntary, the rapid beat of your clit as you drool over the sight of her breasts. They are so full, begging to be sucked and teased. Before you can help it, you’re drifting to unspeakable thoughts, the image of your mouth sucking on her nipples, another white substance falling on your tongue. Allowing your taste buds to revel in it as you swallow every drop. 

There’s an even more unimaginable thought coming to mind, one you’re not sure you can allow yourself to indulge in, if you do, there might be no point of return. Then you’re reminded of the sparkling rock on her left finger, the one that glimmers in the moonlight. Even if her wife isn’t around, you shouldn’t abuse that? Right? 

Abby begins to stir, blue eyes opening slowly as blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Silently she questions the limits of a taboo dream and finite reality, her eyes adjusting to the bright light seeping from the hallway. 

Then there’s a creak, as soft as it should sound, the silence makes it echo. Abby comes to full alert, but then she just sees you. Yet, you feel like a deer in the headlights, caught red handed gawking at your employer’s wife. Vulnerable and exposed, and you’re acting like a teenager who's seeing tits for the first time. Severely, you’re in awe at the kind smile she offers as she cradles Remi to her chest. The sweet youngling, finding safety in the comfort of her mother’s arms. Too strong for her own good, after the little bits you’ve picked up from her over the past few weeks, all you can do is look upon her with intense admiration.

Abby motions for you to move closer, but you’re still nailed to the ground, too anxious to move any closer when she’s so exposed. You’re not sure if you can keep eye contact with her when your sight craves to drift south. 

Jesus, get your shit together. Fucking freak. 

Slowly, you get closer to her but thankfully she saves you, asking for the baby pink bib placed on top of the dresser. There’s also a blanket, but Abby doesn’t ask for it, leaving you even more puzzled. Does she not care to be covered? Perhaps, she feels comfortable? You try not to tumble down the dangerous black hole, wiping it from your mind entirely. 

“You think I would have remembered to grab it but she’s sleeping and I don’t want to wake her.” Abby coos at her daughter, lightly smoothing over her blonde hairline, almost invisible to the eye. 

“Yeah—” You speak quietly, not wanting to wake Remi. “Here.” 

Abby offers small thanks, with a gentle hand she wipes the milk from her face, making sure she’s clean of it as she continues to rock her to a peaceful slumber. “I wanna apologize,” You croaked out after a few minutes of comfortable silence, not wanting to startle either of them, as your eyes found a small canvas on the wall.

“Apologize?” Abby repeated, looking up from her daughter, a tired smile on her face, to find you no longer looking at her, more like admiring the paintings in the room over everything else. “For?”

“Interrupting something that’s very special between a mother and their child. It’s getting late, so i was just coming to find you to tell you i should be heading home, but i couldn’t find you, so” You were still nervous, rightfully so, but Abby didn’t seem to mind. She thought it was cute.

“My wife,” Abby paused, softly chuckling on how to explain it without seeming like she was overreacting. “She doesn’t, well, she never really has an interest in me doing this? I guess she just doesn’t like it, which is fine, but it’s okay that you’re here. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable that you’re standing there, so you can stop acting like it’s making me uncomfortable, please” She laughed. A beautiful sound you always want to hear from her. 

“She doesn’t stay with you?” Your reply was short, almost a scoff. “That seems a little shi— stupid.” You catch yourself quickly with a nervou laugh as you remember her child was quite literally still in her arms, in the same area as you and asleep. “I think it’s beautiful, if that helps. She’s missing out on a lot, you know?”

Abby doesn’t know how to repsond for a while. Part of you thinks you’ve overstepped on your words, insulted her wife in a way you didn’t mean to. But she just smiles at you again, and shakes her head. Those blue eyes piercing into yours which has you holding your breath at how pretty she looks. “It helps. A lot, actually. Thank you”

“You’re uh, welcome.” You nervously laughed and rubbed the back of your head. You didn’t know why she made you so nervous, but you were also not complaining about it too much. If anything, you loved it. Maybe that was because you were a freak. A freak who was thinking about touching her tits not even an hour ago. “I should really get going though, is there anything else i can help you with before i go?” You smiled.

Are you flirting right now? Shut the fuck up, she’s married.

“No, it’s okay,” Abby whispers, not wanting to wake her daughter up, who was soundly asleep in her arms. “You’ve done enough to help me, with the car and everything. I could make you something to eat when you’re here again? An extra thank you for helping me” She suggested, her lips curving up into a smile which has you forgetting how to breathe for a few seconds. 

“I would like that, Mrs Anderson”

“You can call me Abby, you know?”

Her question, such an innocent one on her end, had you smirking deviously, like the freak you were and looking at her like she was your prey and you were ready to pounce on her at any given moment. “Mommy sounds better rolling off my tongue. Well … to me at least” You gave her a subtle wink before walking out of the room. 

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty one ⭐︎ Please, I've been on my knees, change the prophecy

Warnings: fluff in the beginning, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, angst, mentions of unrequited love, kind of a sexist comment directed at blondie

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You never held much hope in your heart but for only this once... you did and it got crushed just like everything else was in your life and now you will probably never execute your plan and everything will slip right through your fingers just like you always feared it would.

Word count: 8.8k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to roe, who always helps me with this story, ideas, dialogues etc. ily

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Waking up to the phone ringing at full blast was not the best start for the morning. Steve’s gruff voice centers you as your head rises slowly from his chest, looking at him reaching for his phone on the bedside table and picking it up with a grunt. 

“Hello?” 

You can faintly hear Robin on the other side, not really hearing what she is saying, you are still so sleepy. You lay your head down on his chest again, closing your eyes as a soft yawn falls from your lips. 

Steve wraps his arm around you again, rubbing your side as he grumbles into the phone. 

“You– ugh… I thought you didn’t have to work today?-- Can’t you simply use your bike, the weather is nice,” his voice died down a little when he looked out his window, at the gray sky and the rustling trees, no sign of the heat and the sun from yesterday. He sighs and closes his eyes again, “fine, okay… fine.” He mumbles a goodbye before he hangs up the phone, putting the receiver back into place, he rubs his face and tightens his hold on you. 

You open your eyes again and prop your chin up on his chest, blinking at the beautiful man before you. 

Steve squints one eye open, a smile spreading on his lips when he looks at you, his hand falls to the back of your head, his fingers now running through your messy hair. 

“Morning, honey,” he whispers, already making you feel butterflies this morning. 

“Good morning, Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a sweet smile. 

“I wish it was a good one,” he grumbles and breaks eye contact for a moment so he can look at the clock on his nightstand. It’s only eight in the morning. “I’m tired and I gotta pick Robin up in an hour,” he murmurs words that leave you disappointed. 

You wanted more time with him before his shift… 

Steve squeezes your waist and pulls you up a little, attempting to pull you closer and you welcome it. You bring your hand up towards his face, brushing back the hair that hangs in front of his eyes, you move closer to him, no longer fighting the urge to kiss him first thing in the morning. 

You don’t know how his heart skips a beat and how the fire sparks within him when you press your lips against his, greeting him more properly with a soft kiss. If you knew, you would simply throw those three words out, right this second, you wouldn’t wait for a perfect moment, you wouldn’t wait for later. 

Steve hums against your lips and presses his mouth stronger against yours, getting lost in this sweet morning kiss. 

You smile against him and cup his cheek, nuzzling your nose against his. 

You can still feel the previous night with him, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, his words, his actions, your plan for today, which unfortunately got postponed already. You have no doubts, not a single one. You were thinking about it the whole time before you fell asleep, last night, you thought about how you’d do it, what you would say to him, what words would be right to use. You wanted to do it in the morning, you wanted to take care of him, make him coffee and breakfast, the way he always does for you and then afterwards, you would do it, you would tell him, you would get the words off your chest that you never thought would see the light in this life. 

But something, someone already got in the way. 

When you pull away from one another, you don’t shy away from giving him another sweet smile, a deep look into his eyes, another peck to his lips. You catch him by surprise and you don’t even know it – how his heart is racing, how his mind crosses out all the anxious thoughts that spread inside of him last night after this sweet kiss. 

Steve’s hand is wrapped around your upper arm, his lips are tingling, his skin feels hot already, his eyes gaze into yours and he sees something that wasn’t there before or so he thinks. You look at him with a kind of softness that he feels a stranger to, you smile at him in a way you only did when you were drunk and clingy with him, you look at his lips as though you never want to stop kissing him. 

You fill him with hope again, the hope that began to dwindle the night before. 

“I’m gonna make you some coffee,” you whisper against his lips, squeezing his arm and blessing him with another smile before you pull away from him, leaving his side to his dismay. You push the covers off your body and place your feet on the ground. 

Steve places his arm behind his head, admiring the way your hair falls down your bare back, the way your naked body looks so heavenly. His cock stirs underneath the covers when you bend down to pick up your panties, exposing yourself to him, causing his hunger to grow in him. He would rather stay in bed with you, kiss every inch of your skin and worship you in every way possible, make you moan his name, make you see stars, make you cling to him because he is the only one you need. 

Clad in your underwear, you walk over to his dresser and pick out one of his shirts, completely ignoring your dress that hangs over his desk chair. You put on one of his only band tees that he owns, The Cure. He smiles, adoring the way his shirt looks on you. You pick out a pair of your shorts and put them on, tying the string at the front, you look over your shoulder and eye him up and down in a way that leaves him blushing. 

Steve’s mornings with you are always his favorites but something about today feels… different. Something about the way you look at him makes him feel happy, happier. 

He gets out of bed begrudgingly, he follows you into the bathroom after putting his boxers on, he brushes his teeth beside you and watches you through the mirror, sharing glances and smiles with you, he watches the way you brush your hair and the way you apply moisturizer to your skin and it hits him like it never did before, this moment is so intimate, just as intimate as any other moment you have shared lately. Every kiss, every touch, every glance, everything has changed, not just for him but also for you, despite his doubtful thoughts, he has to admit that it’s there, a change.

You wouldn’t do this with just anyone, right? 

You wouldn’t make coffee, let alone cook breakfast for just someone. 

You wouldn’t joke around and steal kisses from him if there wasn’t something. 

And you certainly wouldn’t play with his hand, entwine your fingers with his on the way back to your house if he was just casual to you.

And when Steve parks his car in your driveway and you turn to face him with a smile on your face, something else sparks in your eyes… nervousness, hope, giddiness, excitement.  You hide your face behind your hair after a moment of silence and he sees the way you take a few deep breaths before you look into his eyes again. 

“Do you want to spend the night with me… after the party?” You ask with a sudden shakiness that catches him off guard a little. 

“Of course,” he nods, furrowing his brows. 

This shouldn’t even be a question anymore.

“Okay, good,” you nod, whispering. “Are you coming with Robin?”

“Yeah, do you want me to pick you up too?” He asks, smiling. 

You shake your head, “no, it’s fine. I’m probably gonna go earlier and help Eddie with the snacks and everything.” 

Steve nods, “alright then, guess I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and look into his hazel eyes as you begin to move closer, “I’ll see you there, Stevie.” 

You kiss his lips, making his smile even bigger. 

You pull away and gaze into his eyes for a moment, your smile matching his own. 

Steve feels a longing in his chest, a deep emotion that he can’t decipher yet as he looks into your eyes but something that he knows is that he doesn’t want to let you go in this moment, that he wants to kiss, kiss, kiss you until all his doubt is gone again, until he knows what you feel, until he knows that this is real. 

He watches you with a smile that never falls, not even when you walk away from him, not even when he can no longer see you after you step into your home and shut the door. 

His smile lingers, the way it always does because of you. 

It lingers on the whole drive over to Robin’s, the tingling sensation on his lips and in his stomach stays, the fluttering and the beat of his heart never lessens, hope seeps back in, taking over once again after this morning with you. 

And it all stays. 

It stays.

-

The clouds grow bigger and darker, looming over Hawkins like a dark veil, the wind howls through the trees, the leaves ripping off the branches and falling onto the pavement, the curtains in your room move strongly. 

You clutch your towel to your chest, not caring about the water that drips from your hair and onto your carpet, you quickly make your way over to the window that you forgot to close before your bath. You look out and up into the sky, feeling the anxiousness in you already seeping in. 

The storm isn’t any close yet but it’s brewing, the clouds get darker and they move faster as the wind seems to get stronger and stronger. Something is coming and you hope that you won’t be here, alone in this house anymore once it takes over fully, so you decide to get ready sooner than you wanted to. 

You turn on some music to drown out the noises from the howling wind. You sit down in front of your vanity and take a look at yourself in the mirror. The marks on your neck are clear, the happiness in your eyes even evident to yourself, the circles that always glow like shadows underneath them are no longer there, your lips curl into a smile as you touch the side of your neck where he kissed you, just the thought, the memory of it makes your heart and stomach flutter.  

You take a deep breath and begin getting ready, applying make-up to your face, using only his favorite colors as you put on eyeshadow and lipstick, words mingle together in your mind as you form sentences and prepare yourself for something that you never thought you would do. You rehearse it all in your head, growing more and more nervous as you do so. 

You don’t know how things will go, how they will end but one thing is for certain, tonight everything will change, no matter his reaction, things won’t be the same after this. 

You feel scared and anxious, you know that you could lose him tonight, you know that he could slip right through your fingers, you know that he could break your heart and crash it into a million pieces but even that thought isn’t enough to stop you from going after what you always wanted. 

Nothing can stop you, not yourself, not anyone else, not the storm building up behind you. 

You feel a giddiness, an excitement you haven’t felt in a while, you’re not sure if you ever felt it. 

You put on a pair of Levi’s and a white shirt, using the opportunity of the cool weather to wear your leather jacket today, you pick out your favorite jewelry and spritz his favorite perfume on your skin. You run your fingers through your styled hair and take another look at yourself in the mirror, glancing at your bed behind you and hope that tears won’t be shed into your pillow tonight. 

Despite the fears that linger, despite the storm moving closer and closer, your excitement runs deepest in your bones. 

You wonder what Eddie will say, think about your decision.

You know what Billy would think, what he would say, how he would look at you. 

You know that he’d be proud of you for going after what you want, he always waited for this moment. 

You remember the look on his face when you lied to him about what happened at Scoops Ahoy, you remember how he sighed and how he smiled sadly when you told him that you were too afraid to ask him out and never ended up going inside – you lied to him to protect Steve, you knew what he would do if you told him the truth about what really happened, you knew that Steve would lose another fight. 

It only feels right to take his car today, you rarely do it, you rarely take the Camaro out for rides but for the sake of keeping the battery alive, you take it out for late night drives or for short trips to the store whenever you get a sudden craving for something. 

It’s funny, maybe even eerie that the car still smells like him. It’s been over a year since he has been gone but his cologne still lingers. You don’t know whether that is the reason for the calming feeling in you whenever you’re inside of the Camaro or if it might be his ghostly presence. 

But whatever it is, it grounds you, it makes you feel warm and safe, even in the storm and even through your racing thoughts. 

When you arrive at Eddie’s and Wayne’s house, you park the car in their driveway, behind Eddie’s Impala. You sit there for a moment, not getting out of the car just yet, you take a few deep breaths and take another look at yourself in the mirror. 

You’re pretty sure that no one is here yet, you got here early, two hours earlier than you should be. Eddie won’t mind, he had been asking to hang out with you alone for a while now and as you look at his house, you’re hit with a sudden guilt, you have neglected him a little once you and Steve started spending more time with each other. 

When the rain starts pouring, you jump out of the car and quickly make your way over to his house, running up the porch steps and finding shelter beneath the roof, before you can even knock on the door or ring the bell, the door opens and a smiling Eddie greets you, his curly hair messy and wild, his eyes sparkling and pearly whites showing as his smile turns into a grin. He steps aside and lifts his arm, bowing playfully. 

“Welcome to the castle, milady.” 

A laugh falls from your lips, you shake your head at him as you walk inside. 

“Hi Eddie,” you snort. 

He chuckles at your eye roll, closing the door once you’re inside, he takes you in, the smile on your face, the sparkle in your eyes, the happiness and the excitement etched into your features. He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Hey,” he smiles and squints his eyes at you, “how are you, sweets?” 

You take your jacket off and glance at your best friend, at his squinted eyes, at the curious look on his face.

“Peachy.”

Eddie nearly laughs, thinking you’re joking by using that word, you said it too enthusiastically, too happily, too excitedly. The smile on your face matches the tone in your voice though and there is something about you that looks different today, he doesn’t know what it is but there is something. Your hair is styled the way it always is but it's shining beneath the dim lights in the hallway, your skin is glowing, you just look happy. 

“You look pretty.”

You furrow your brows but smile even brighter. 

“Thank you, Eds.”

Your best friend steps towards you, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to his kitchen. 

“What’s up with the uh,” he pauses, pointing his finger at your face, “smiley face, you seem so happy today, did something happen or are you just that happy to see me?” He asks, chuckling. 

You roll your eyes at him and shake your head. The giggle that slips from your lips and echoes through his hallway makes him clutch his chest dramatically. 

“So, you’re not happy to see me?” He asks with a bewildered look on his face, “ouch.” 

You slap his arm playfully and push away from him when you both step inside the large kitchen, “dork. Of course I’m happy to see you.” 

Two paper bags filled with snacks and drinks are on the kitchen counter, nothing taken out of them yet, you instantly get to work, taking out the bags of chips and different kinds of candy he got for game night, movie night or whatever else this party’s theme will be. 

“I’m glad you’re here early,” Eddie says as he makes his way over to his fridge. 

“Why? So you got someone to fill the snack bowls?” 

He looks at you over his shoulder, sending you a glare, “do you think I see you as my maid or something?” 

“Yeah.”

He shrugs at you and turns back again, “don’t see you wearing a maid costume.”

You snort at him, “that would look ridiculous.” 

“I’m sure Harrington wouldn’t mind seeing you in one,” he cackles. 

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you have to hide your flustered face even though you know that he isn’t looking at you now. 

You know how protective Eddie feels over you, how he never approved of the situation you had gotten yourself into with Steve, how he wanted to protect you from the possible heartbreak that might be leading up to but despite his negative feelings about all of this, he had been calm in the past few weeks, less negative, less cold with Steve. 

Will he encourage you when you tell him what you want to do? 

Or will he think that you’re making a mistake? 

You watch as he takes out two beers from his fridge, placing them on the kitchen counter, for a moment he looks around for the bottle opener with a frown on his face before he decides to use his lighter instead, popping the caps with ease. He slides one of the bottles over the marble counter, putting it in front of you, he raises his eyebrows at you as his eyes flicker back and forth between the beer and you. 

With a chuckle, you push away the snacks and grab the beer, “party hasn’t started yet.”

“Party,” he snorts and brings his bottle up, clinking it against yours, “party is gonna be at Hopper’s wedding, I’m gonna get shitfaced with you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you mumble and take a sip of your beer. 

“Why? Are you scared you’re gonna get all cute and clingy with Harrington again?” He laughs, giving you a smug smile, reminding you of the fourth of july. 

You roll your eyes at him but you can’t hide the smile on your face, the smile that turns into a lovesick one as you think about last night. 

Eddie drinks his beer and watches you, the way your smile doesn’t fall, the way your eyes are basically hearts, the way you seem so giddy over something as you shift from one foot to the other. 

Had someone told him that he would get to see you like this a few months back, he probably would’ve laughed, he would’ve had more trouble believing that than what Dustin told him about the upside down when he was dragged into it. 

You always had a stone cold face, your smile only ever appeared when you said something snarky, you rarely showed feelings and you only ever rolled your eyes at anything someone other than Max or Lucas said, it took you time to get used to the others, to warm up to them, it was a surprise that you warmed up to him so quickly but maybe it was because you had some things in common, though while you built a defensive mechanism around you by being cold and even mean at times, Eddie used humor and indifference. 

Now you are standing here in front of him, a person so different from the one he befriended back in March. 

You are happy, you are glowing.

Eddie is just about to ask, his curiosity is killing him and he can’t wait no more to find out what’s gotten you so excited. 

“I’m gonna tell him.” 

He knows what you mean, he knows right away. 

“I-I don’t want to do this anymore, it’s just not enough. And I know what you’re gonna say but… I just want to do it, Eddie. We went to the city last night and we… we held hands and we kissed in the middle of the street and we talked for hours! He even started kissing me goodbye and I just… my feelings are getting stronger and I don’t even know how that’s even possible but I just… I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t tell him the truth and I know,” you pause to take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment before you look back up at him again, “I know how this can end, I know that he could reject me, break my heart and push me away but I need to try, Eddie. I want to try.” 

Eddie’s eyes soften, his shoulders slump as a sad smile crosses his face. 

The truth is, he is happy, proud of you for going after what you want but he is also scared, scared that this happiness that has just started showing will be taken away again when the man in question will shatter your heart to pieces. 

Despite Steve’s obvious affection towards you, he still struggles to see through him, to read him, to find out what he is feeling for you. And what he had been told by a certain someone, doesn’t help his doubt. Yet he can’t deny what he sees in Steve’s eyes. He can’t deny the possibility that he feels the same for you so who is he to intervene? To stop you from going after who your heart desires the most? 

You stare at your best friend, waiting for a reaction from him, his face is unreadable, his eyes distant but then he makes a move, he places his bottle on the counter and he walks towards you, surprising you by pulling you into his arms, he hugs you tightly and squeezes your arms. 

A confused smile spreads on your face but you don’t deny him, you wrap your arms around his middle. 

Eddie had always been affectionate, always stole hugs from you and a few others he considered close friends but usually it happened when he was hyper, drunk or high. 

“I’m proud of you, sweets,” he mumbles and takes a deep breath before he continues, “I’ll be there to cheer you on… with pom poms.” 

“Please don’t,” you giggle and pull back when he places his hands on your shoulders, his brown eyes are filled with kindness, his smile warm.

“Jokes aside, Harrington’s a really lucky guy, you know? You’re a catch, sweetheart and I’m not just saying that because I’m your best friend, you’re really fucking amazing and cool, he’d be really dumb and blind not to want you as his girl,” he grins, lifting his hand to tap your nose, “you’re a cutie.” 

You swat his hand away with a snort, “cutie…” 

“What, it’s true!” He laughs, his eyes glinting with amusement, he tilts his head to the side and his laughter dies down after a moment, a serious expression takes over instead and he squeezes your shoulder again, “but hey, no matter what happens, I’ll be there for you, okay?” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, trying to smile but failing to do so when your emotions spread inside of you like a fire, you don’t know what’s gotten over you, maybe it’s the kind eyes of your best friend or the caring tone in his voice, the brotherly love he feels for you, the protectiveness that reminds you of one you had gotten before. 

You appreciate him so dearly. 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper.

He smiles at you and gives you a nod. 

“When are you gonna do it?” 

“Tonight, after the party.” 

He nods again, “alright, you gotta tell me how it went.” 

“I will,” you smile and look into your best friend’s eyes, taking a deep breath, you realize just how nervous you are when you exhale shakily. 

Eddie wants to take your nervousness, he wants to rid you of your anxiety and your fear of rejection, he wants to tell you that it’ll be okay, that things will work out, he wants to protect you but he can’t, and he won’t lie to your face when he is uncertain about it all, so all he can offer is comfort. 

And for you, it’s more than enough. 

“Now come on, let’s fill these snack bowls and order some pizza,” he grins and pats your shoulder before he steps away from you again. 

“Yeah,” you smile, tilting your head down, you look at your hand, at the missing hair tie around your wrist, the one that found home somewhere else. 

You don’t got a single clue to where this night will take you, not a gut feeling, nothing but as the time drags closer to the evening, your chest begins to fill with a kind of anxiety that makes you feel on edge, the one that prompts you to open a second bottle of beer when you finish your first, it doesn’t get you drunk, not even tipsy but it makes you feel a little calmer. 

And once everyone starts piling in slowly, you start relaxing a little more, especially when Nancy arrives and she instantly pulls you away from the others to talk about wedding preparations, about the color of her nails and the shoes she hasn’t settled on yet, about how excited Joyce was when she went cake tasting with her, Will and El. 

“Have you settled on a hairstyle yet?” Nancy asks you and takes a sip of the drink Jonathan made her. 

She noticed the way you kept looking over her shoulder while she was talking, the way your eyes kept moving back to the front door like you were waiting for someone. 

Everyone is already here, well, everyone except for Robin and Steve. 

You shake your head, “no, I’ll probably keep it open, I don’t know yet.”

“You should add a pink bow to your hair! It would match your heels!” 

You smile at her enthusiasm, at the smile on her face, at the kindness in her eyes. She has been such a good friend to you but sometimes it feels weird to get along with her, given her history with Steve. You wonder how she will react if the truth ever makes it to the light. 

“You think?”

She nods her head causing her curls to bounce just the way Eddie’s always do. 

“I might do that then,” you smile at her. 

“I can’t believe the wedding is in a few days already,” she says as her face grows a little serious, “and that I’ll be leaving for college soon…” Her voice falls a little quieter, her blue eyes search for her boyfriend who is standing on the other side of the room, checking out the vinyls on Eddie’s shelf. A look of sadness and longing crosses her soft features, her lips curling into a sullen smile. 

They are going to different colleges, their ways parting once again… for a while. You can see the sadness in them both, the looks they share as they spend their last days together. You have no doubt that they will make it, that they will push through this time of separation. Nancy and Jonathan are so deeply bonded, you can’t imagine one without the other permanently. 

“I’m gonna miss our shopping trips,” Nancy mumbles, directing her sad gaze at you now. “You should come visit me in Boston sometime! Before Christmas! You could fly in and we could go Christmas shopping together and enjoy a couple days there before we go back to Hawkins together!” 

You laugh at her lightened up eyes, at the happy grin on her face. 

It feels weird to think that far ahead when it’s something you never really do anymore, you rarely even think about the next week, let alone a holiday that is still so far away, a holiday that usually only saddens you and reminds you of what you had lost. 

“I’d love that,” you nod, smiling. 

Somehow her blue eyes lighten up even more and it makes you feel warm inside, you’re not the girl people ever tried to befriend and you never blamed them, you weren’t exactly open to making friends but for some reason the girl in front of you chose you and you don’t even know why. 

The doorbell rings at an unexpected moment, when you’re lost in your thoughts and unprepared to see him. You straighten your back and look over Nancy’s shoulder when Eddie rushes through the hallway to open the front door. 

You miss the look on Nancy’s face as she keeps her eyes on you, the curiosity flickering in her eyes, the knowing. 

You lick your lips and blink, heart already lurching to your throat when you hear Robin’s voice and wait for him to follow her inside but the door closes a little too soon for your liking and the lack of his voice and his presence makes you frown. 

Robin walks in by herself, Vickie isn’t by her side and neither is the one you have been waiting for. Her a little wet from the rain, a not so happy look deep in her features. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you can already feel the disappointment, the confusion settling inside of you so deeply that it makes you uncomfortable. 

Where is he? 

“Hey guys,” Robin smiles as she steps into the living room, waving at the teens who are in a hushed conversation that none of you seem to be allowed to hear. 

You notice the way her smile doesn’t match the look in her eyes or the rough tone in her voice. She doesn’t look at you but that doesn’t surprise you, not anymore. 

“Where’s Steve?” Dustin asks, beating you to the question that has been repeating itself in your head. 

Robin hesitates, she shifts from one foot to the other, twisting the rings on her fingers as her eyes meet yours briefly. 

“He’s not feeling well, he stayed home… he… has a migraine.” 

If there is one thing that you learned about Robin, it’s that she is either a fantastic liar or the most terrible one and right now, she is a terrible one. 

“Wait what?” Eddie mumbles from behind her, giving her the same look that you have given her, “he was fine earlier when I called him.” 

You don’t know what to feel at this very moment but worry is the biggest emotion of all. You would drop everything now to go and take care of him. 

“Well, he isn’t anymore, migraines come out of nowhere, he said he wants to be alone,” she grumbles and gives you a pointed look before she turns on her heel and leaves the living room to go into the kitchen. 

Jonathan and Nancy pay no mind to her little attitude, no one really is, except for you and your best friend. Eddie shoots you a concerned glance, furrowing his brows at you in question but you are just as lost as him. 

He watches how your expression falls, how your shoulders slump and your lips curl downwards. He sighs, wondering if Robin is telling the truth or if there is something else. He can’t stand to see the disappointment in your eyes when there was nothing but excitement and happiness just minutes ago. 

You excuse yourself to Nancy, not even noticing the look in her eyes as they follow you until you’re no longer in her sight. 

This moment reminds you of your first night with Steve, the same excitement that lingered in you then, the same one that was crashed when Robin arrived without him and told you that he went out with Heidi was crushed yet again, only this time, you know that he isn’t out on a date, he isn’t seeing someone else, he wouldn’t do that, not even if there are no feelings in him for you. Something else is going on, that deep unsettling feeling that takes home in you is proof of that. 

This isn’t like him, even if he did feel sick, even if he did have a migraine, he would’ve called you, he would’ve told you that he can’t stay with you tonight. 

You walk through the darkened hallway, not even flinching when lightning strikes outside, too absorbed in your anxious thoughts. You make your way into the kitchen where Robin is opening her beer, she rolls her eyes when she sees you and it really shouldn’t affect you this much anymore, she always has an attitude when it comes to you, it seems. 

“Hey,” you mumble, still trying to be friendly towards Steve’s best friend. 

“Hi,” she murmurs, grumpily. 

You don’t walk into the room any further, wanting distance between yourself and her. 

“What’s really going on?” You ask, not bothering to try and have small talk with someone who can’t stand your guts. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shrugs with a stoic look on her face. 

No matter how many times she had given you the cold shoulder before, it still surprises you sometimes to see her act so indifferent towards you. The girl who stuttered every time she tried to talk to you when you had just joined the group, the girl that always made you laugh and threw funny comments at you turned into this but she is only like that with you, no one else.

“Yeah, you do,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, “I know you don’t like me, I don’t know what I did to you but–”

Her scoff cuts you off, she looks up at the ceiling and mumbles some words that you can’t understand and it only angers you even more. 

“Just tell me what happened, I was with him this morning and he was fine, he wanted to come here, he wanted to spend the night with me.” You are already pleading, showing emotions to a girl you probably shouldn't but you are desperate to know, to find out why he isn’t here.

She shakes her head at you and laughs, “I’m sure you’ll be fine without him, Blondie. You can always find another guy, it’s not like you had trouble finding some before,” she throws harsh words and a look of judgment your way, not giving you a chance to reply to her rude comment before she brushes past you and makes her way back to the group. 

Your stare is blank as you keep your eyes on the ground, not knowing what to feel, what to think, what emotions are swirling inside of you right now because suddenly there are too many of them. 

You found out how rude she can be with the comments and remarks she throws at you sometimes but she never judged you for your past, you never thought that she would do that. 

How could you ever want someone else? 

You never did before, not even when you were sure that he hated you, not even then did you want someone else. 

He is the only one for you, he will always be the only one. 

You glance at the telephone and you don’t think twice before you head towards it, basically ripping the receiver from its place, you quickly dial his number and press your back against the wall, waiting for the call to go through, waiting for him to pick up. 

Your feelings tell you that you won’t get any answers, not like this, not right now. 

It rings and it rings but nothing and that only makes you feel worse. 

Steve always picks up the phone, no matter what, no matter who might be calling, no matter what time it is, no matter if he is sleeping or not, he always picks up the phone, always. So this is only another sign for you, a sign that something isn’t right. 

“Hey.” 

You flinch, not at the thunder that just struck, but at Eddie’s voice, his eyes are filled with pity as they flicker back and forth between the receiver in your hand and your face. 

“Maybe he’s sleeping, he always does when he has migraines,” Eddie shrugs. 

You know he is trying to make you feel better, to take your anxiety and your anxious thoughts away from you but nothing, absolutely nothing will do but you don’t want to ruin his mood or anyone else’s so you put the receiver back and you go over to the fridge, reaching for a soda instead of a beer this time. 

You don’t want to be here, not anymore, you want to be with him, you want to check on him, see if he’s okay but the gnawing feeling in your chest makes you stay. 

The storm that rages outside taking over your mind as well as the questions in your mind grow louder and louder. 

“Come on,” you mumble without looking back, not baring to see the pity in his eyes any longer. 

Your best friend follows you without a word, making his way back into the living room with you. 

You smile at Max and sit down beside her, trying to distract yourself by talking to the girl but it’s not that easy, not when worry continues to rise in you, not even when Eddie sits down on the other side of you and tries to talk to you about anything but him. 

For the following hour, you feel restless. Scratch that, restless is an understatement, you are panicking. Eddie tries to comfort you, tries to take your mind off things by playing a drinking game with everyone else, laughing when El tries out beer for the first time, and sends the can flying without touching it in disgust. Not even that could take your mind away from the boy that occupies every second of your life now… and there’s a person in this party that knows exactly what is going on and is acting as if she doesn’t, drinking her fifth margarita of the night and smiling, talking with Jonathan. 

You reach a tipping point. 

“Fuck this shit, Eddie.” 

You slam your drink on the table, marching towards Robin and Jonathan while Eddie scrambles desperately behind you, trying to stop you. He had never seen you like this before. You are so determined, pushing through it all, just for the sake of knowing about Steve’s whereabouts. But he too is intrigued. He knows Robin knows something… but his chest compresses when he remembers the night before, hoping that it didn't have anything to do with what was happening right this second. 

He doesn’t want to be the cause of your pain. He hopes he isn’t. 

You stop in front of Robin with a frown on your face, not even apologizing for interrupting her conversation with Jonathan, for stopping her mid-sentence. 

“I need to talk to you.”

Jonathan looks up at you, a little surprised at the seriousness on your face and your sharp voice. He looks over your shoulder, glancing at Eddie who shakes his head at him, he only raises his eyebrows in response, he turns away and sips on his drink, walking towards Nancy. 

Robin clenches her jaw, she meets your eyes and stares at you for a moment, glaring back at you. 

You stand your ground, not looking away, not moving, not asking but demanding for her to follow you when you tilt your head in the direction of the kitchen before you walk off. 

Eddie looks around, relieved to see everyone busy with the monopoly game that Dustin brought. 

Robin gets up with a grunt, slamming her drink on the table just the way you did, she shoots a glare at Eddie before she turns around and walks after you with Eddie hot on her heels. 

You’re standing there with your arms crossed, your heart pounding in your chest and your anxiety burning by now. 

Robin mimics you when she walks in, crossing her arms over her chest as well, she looks you up and down before she shrugs at you. 

Eddie, who is already looking between the two of you nervously, closes the door, not wanting the others to hear but hoping that an argument won’t break out between you both. 

“What do you want?” Robin grumbles at you, her words slurring. 

You can’t lie and say that her glares, her dislike towards you, doesn’t sting a little but this isn’t the main focus now. 

“Where is Steve?” 

“I already told you–”

“I don’t fucking believe you, Robin!” You snap at the girl, throwing your arms up, “you’ve been lying to me from the moment you stepped into this house! I know he isn’t feeling sick, I know he doesn’t have a migraine, he would’ve told me! I saw him this morning, he wanted to come so don’t stay here and lie to my face! Tell me where he is and why he’s not picking up his damn phone!” 

Already breathing heavily after your little outburst, you stare at her in desperation, wanting, needing answers. 

Her gaze never changes though, it doesn’t soften, it’s still filled with dislike, and her lips curl downwards. 

“He doesn’t want to see you anymore,” she shrugs, throwing those words out as though they mean nothing. 

You would have believed her, if you weren’t so determined, if you weren’t so set on everything, you would have believed her. This would have worked on you months back but not now, not anymore, not after last night, not after this morning, and even if he did want that, he wouldn’t leave you in the dark like this. 

Eddie furrows his brows, looking at Robin who is so obviously lying yet again. 

“I don’t believe you, Robin.” You shake your head at her, stepping towards her. “I don’t believe you for a second.”

She blinks, eyes darting back and forth between you and your best friend before she redirects her glare at you. 

“Why do you even care so much? You can get dick elsewhere, Blondie! Leave him alone and don’t mess with him anymore, I think you have done enough!” 

Your eyes widen at the words that took a blow to your chest, your throat tightens and you shake your head in disbelief. 

You have done enough? 

What could you possibly have done? 

Eddie squints his eyes at the drunk girl before him, and he steps closer to the both of you. 

“Why doesn’t Harrington want to see her anymore, Buckley?” He asks carefully. 

Robin takes a deep breath and sighs, mumbling incoherent words under her breath, she runs her fingers through her short hair and tilts her head up, chuckling at the ceiling though not in amusement. 

And then she suddenly looks at you with the deepest frown you had ever seen in her features, a fire burning in her eyes as she sneers at you. 

“Because she is just going to break his heart sooner or later! She doesn’t feel anything for him!” She yells, pointing a finger at you. “She’s been playing with him from the fucking start, with his feelings and he is already suffering. I’m not gonna let her do worse!” 

You draw back, with your eyes wide and your face stunned, you don’t know what to say, you don’t know what to feel. 

The storm is raging outside just as the one in this kitchen is, it’s thundering at full blast and raining harshly but nothing fazes you now, not even the purple lightning. 

It takes you a moment, a long moment to realize the meaning behind her words and the moment they sink in fully, you feel the aching inside of you.

“W-What did you just say?” 

Eddie frowns at her, blinking as he looks at her, “Buckley… you told me Harrington didn’t feel anything…”

You glance at your best friend, confused about his words too, and you’re about to ask but Robin isn’t done just yet. 

“Why does that matter!? Why does she fucking care how he feels?” She points at you again, taking a deep breath before she continues, “she never did, never have, never will! She always treated him poorly, even in high school for fucks sake and you want me to believe that she feels something for him!?”

Heat spreads through your whole body, to your chest and your throat, to your face and lighting up everything inside of you in the worst way possible, making your skin tingle with rage and your eyes burn with tears. 

You don’t even think before you step towards her and grab her shoulders, pushing her up against the wall behind her, catching both her and Eddie off guard as you let your anger take over. 

“You don’t get to fucking dictate my own feelings! I always thought you were stupidly observant but now I realize you are dense with anything else around you besides two people! You are ignorant towards everyone else, never giving anyone the benefit of the doubt!”

Robin stares at you wide eyed, not knowing what to say or do. 

“If you looked at me, even for just one second you would have known how much I care for him. If you had given me that chance you would have seen just how much I feel for him! If you had even looked at me back in high school you would have seen that I have been hiding and suppressing these feelings for him, for fucking years!” 

“I–”

You shake your head at her, shutting her up with a simple glare. 

Tears blur your vision, your heart is pounding in your chest as you look at someone you once considered a friend. 

You don’t know what she said to him, what words she used to make him stay away but you don’t even know if you do want to know, rage runs deep enough already. 

“And you think I am this cold hearted bitch, well news fucking flash, Buckley, you never got to know me at all, so you have no right to say that! You have no right to judge my own heart!” 

Robin’s blue eyes shine with tears, her features now softening and twisting into regret as realization dawns on her. 

Eddie stands there in shock, not knowing how to be of help. 

“So… you… for Steve–” Robin stutters, whispering. 

Your bottom lip trembles as hot tears fall from your eyes, the excitement that lingered in you all day has turned into fear. You don’t know where he is, what he thinks, what he feels now that this has been ruined, if there is still a chance for you to fix something you didn’t even break. 

But even through all this, you now know that there is, there was a chance. She wouldn’t hate you over nothing, she wouldn’t feel so protective of him if there were no feelings involved. 

Fear envelopes your heart so fully and strongly that it nearly paralyzes you. 

What if it’s done?

What if it’s over now?

You tremble and your tears cascade down your face, you don’t bother to hide them, to wipe them away, to hide your pain from the one who caused it. 

You breathe in shakily and step away from her, finally letting go of her. 

“There is no way in hell you will be the first to hear those words coming out of my mouth. I won’t say it out loud for the first time unless it is with him.” 

Those are your last words to Robin before you turn on your heel and walk away from her and from your best friend, who doesn’t even try to stop you. 

With tears rolling down your cheeks and an anxious heart, you rush out of the kitchen and through the empty hallway, you grab your jacket and the keys to Billy’s car, not even bracing yourself before you walk straight into the storm, not caring about your pounding heart when thunder crashes above you and the wind blows strongly against you as the rain envelopes you on your way to the car, wetting through your clothes and sending shivers down your spine. 

You jump into the car with your hair clinging to your face already, rain and tears mingling together and running down your hot cheeks. You try to blink your tears away but to no avail, they keep building up and falling, your throat tightening more and more each passing second as a sob threatens to fall from your lips. 

You start the car and grab the steering wheel, sniffling as you hold onto it tightly, breathing in the air around you, clutching your hand around the leather as though you’re trying to find comfort in something that used to belong to the person that always encouraged you to fight for this, for him. 

Everything inside of you is crumbling now, to pieces, to shambles. 

You look at the sky and you do something you have never done before, you beg, you beg for that one thing to work out, you would fall to your knees if you had to. You can’t lose this, you can’t lose him. 

You back out of Eddie’s driveway and slam your foot against the accelerator causing the tires to screech as you speed down the road. 

Your hands are trembling just the way your whole body does, your ears are ringing, the rain that paddles down the windows matching your tears. 

Her words echo in your mind, all the hurtful things she said about you don’t even come close to the pain you feel when you think about him. 

You never wanted him to hurt, not for a single second. 

You would have taken all the pain just to protect him from it all, knowing that he is aching because of you, brings a deeper pain to you than ever before and you don’t know how he will react to seeing you, if he even wants to see you now but you are willing to try and you are willing to fight. 

You can almost feel a little shock coming through the leather of the steering wheel. Something that wants to prompt you into letting go and finally park in front of his house. Something that is pushing you into being strong, to fight, to finally jump over the hole to reach the other side. It’s almost as if you could hear the words…

You can do it sweets…

Steve’s car is in the driveway, the TV light flickers through the living room window, he is here, he is home and you don’t waste any more time, you park the car behind his, you jump out and back into the cold rain. 

The water splashes beneath your sneakers, the thunder makes you flinch this time but you clench your fists and rush towards his house, ringing the bell and slamming your fist against the door over and over again, yelling his name. 

You feel the hotness from your tears and the shaking of your lips, not because of the cold rain but because of the emotions bleeding through you. 

You wait and you wait, fearing that he might not open, that he can’t even stand to see you anymore, that he won’t give you the chance to talk, to tell him how you really feel. 

You slam your fist against the door again, knocking a few times as broken sniffles fall from you while the storm rages behind you. 

What must be a few seconds that you’re waiting out here, standing in the pouring rain, feels like forever. 

Your heart beats against your ribcage, the coil in your throat beginning to choke you and you can’t even see through your blurry vision anymore. You taste the saltiness from your tears, you feel the panic sinking deeper and deeper. 

You’re still begging and it takes everything in you not to crumble to your knees. 

And then, Steve opens the door with bloodshot eyes, a piercing gaze that threatens your hope, that threatens your resolve. 

A gaze that says “it’s done.”

You’re both done.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs