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moonchild9350 · 4 months ago

Text

Perfect Copy

summary: Hyunjin brings home a clone of himself, one to take over his daily life at work and home when he's gone for the tour. Everything seems to be great....that is until it's not.

pairing: idol!Hyunjin x fab!reader x clone!Hyunjin

genre: established relationship, sci fi au, angst, fluff, smut-18+ MDNI

word count: 9k

warnings: fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (don't), creampie, squirting, multiple rounds and other things I don’t want to spoil!

notes: this fic is one of my favorites that i wrote! I'm thinking of making it an anthology series with three chapters per se. Let me know if you'd like to see it as so! And as always let me know what you think of this fic!

If you enjoyed, please comment, like, and reblog ♡

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, edit, report, or use this work without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Masterlist | Perfect Love

You were pacing the floor of your room, your hands behind your back as your mind raced. The phrase “what should I do,” repeated over and over, so much so it was all you could hear.

The house was empty, the silence loud and clear as your feet touched the padded floor. The sun was shining through your window, the sound of a dog barking in the distance and children playing at the park across the street. The atmosphere outside was completely different from the one inside.

Not too long ago, you got off the phone with Hyunjin, your boyfriend, after he shared some disturbing information that would change the dynamic of the household forever…or at least the foreseeable future. He was bringing his clone home to join the household at the company’s request.

You were too stunned to speak as he explained each band member was required to have one, the company going as far as to add an addendum into their contracts stating so.

When you asked why, Hyunjin just explained that the clone would be here when he’s gone on tour, ready to continue operations at the company as scheduled, saving time and money for the company.

What could you do?

The decision was already made and Hyunjin and his clone were on their way here, to the home you both shared.

It’s not like you’ve never heard of an idol having a clone to help out with their career, matter of fact it was more common than people thought. The appeal was there, as a clone would be able to attend events and carry on with the idol’s daily life as if it were nothing, allowing the idol to simultaneously complete other tasks that were needed of them.

The world had mixed reactions about the idea, some in favor of the thought, allowing idols to not be overworked, while others found the idea not so appealing. You yourself was somewhere in the middle, understanding why an idol would want the extra help as you were dating one yourself but also found the idea of a clone of Hyunjin walking around eerie.

You continued to pace the floor, back and forth, back and forth, until you heard the door open and close. You could hear Hyunjin speaking with someone, his voice carrying through the small apartment.

Taking a breath, you braced yourself and walked into the hallway, coming face to face with Hyunjin and well…Hyunjin.

“Hey babe!” Hyunjin said, coming up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You shuffled behind Hyunjin a little as he turned to face his clone. “Well here he is! Or I guess here I am?” He said with a chuckle.

The clone raised his hand as if to say hi before placing it at his side again, his eyes fixed right on you. You lowered your gaze not sure where to look as he continued to stare at you.

“Well let’s all go sit down and chat,” Hyunjin said, breaking the awkward silence that briefly filled the room.

You followed him to the couch, sitting down next to him as his clone took the seat opposite both of you. The clone sat up straight in his seat, his hands placed delicately in his lap as he waited for Hyunjin to speak.

You took a moment to take the new member of the household in, observing his looks to see if he resembles Hyunjin at all and you must admit, he could pass off as your boyfriend. His hair was long and brown, sitting perfectly at his shoulders, his eyes a beautiful chocolate brown. He even had the little freckle underneath his left eye, the pretty beauty mark very much present and distinctive.

The only difference was his unblemished skin, new and perfect just like a brand new baby. His movements were stiff and uncertain, as if they hadn’t been used in a while, which they probably hadn’t.

Hyunjin’s clone looked around, his eyes drifting across the living room, taking in his new surroundings. You were so caught up in observing the clone that you were startled as Hyunjin clapped his hands next to you.

“Well welcome me! Thats weird to say,” Hyunjin chuckled as he slapped his thigh.

You and the clone just stared at him, unsure of what to say or do.

Hyunjin coughed before settling back in his seat, feeling the awkward tension in the room.

“Okay…tough crowd. My clone will be living here from now on. He’ll be in and out of the house to go to the company and fill in for me while I’m gone, and he’ll be here for you if you need anything.”

Hyunjin’s clone then smiled, his dimples showing just like on your Hyunjin. His smile, his mannerisms was so much like your boyfriend’s it was unnerving. It was becoming too much for you.

“I’m sorry, I need a moment,” you mumbled as you got up, retreating to the safety of your bedroom.

You went and sat on the bed, your head down in your hands as Hyunjin walked in.

“Baby?” Hyunjin asked as he came to kneel in front of you. He gently began rubbing your legs attempting to soothe you.

You looked up and say the concern in your boyfriend’s face. Softening your features you said, “I’m just….overwhelmed. He’s just like you, it’s eerie.”

Hyunjin nodded agreeing with you. It was eerie, he’s not going to lie. It was a weird feeling seeing himself standing there. He needed you to be okay though and comfortable with the clone while he’s away.

“It’s okay, I just have to get used to him being here is all,” you continued attempting to smile.

“Okay baby, you’ll tell me if you change your mind?” Hyunjin asked as he held your gaze.

You shook your head yes and placed your hands on top of his. Hyunjin smiled and got up, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. You sighed as his plush lips melted with yours, as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

All too soon, Hyunjin pulled back and grinned. “Let’s go back yeah?”

You nodded and stood up, reaching out to take Hyunjin’s hand in yours. He interlaced his fingers with yours, the softness and warm feeling causing you to feel at ease and led the way back to the living room. The clone was sitting in the same spot still, his head turning toward you both as you entered the room. His eyes drifted to your intertwined hands for a moment before looking back up, his cheeks reddening.

Hyunjin dropped your hand and sat down, turning the tv on in the process. You didn’t know what to do as you rocked back and forth on your feet, your eyes darting anywhere but on Hyunjin’s clone.

“I’ll just…go to the kitchen,” you mumbled as you turned on your heels, making your way to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, you looked around wondering what to do next. You took a look at the clock and noticed it was almost dinner time. 'Might as well cook dinner,’ you thought as you grabbed the ingredients you needed to make lasagna.

You could hear the voices from the tv and Hyunjin and his clone discussing something, but the sound of pots and pans clanging together overpowered them both. It was easy to fall into the safe and familiar routine of making the sauce, placing the noodles down followed by more sauce and cheese.

Carefully, you created a dish worth devouring, smiling as you added the finishing touches before sliding it into the oven. You then went about chopping up lettuce and other veggies, deciding to make a salad for the side.

You were tossing the vegetables together when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. With a yelp, you dropped the tongs you were holding before spinning around to see who it was.

“Easy baby!” Hyunjin said as he held you close, a mixture of concern and pure amusement on his face.

“You scared me!” You exclaimed as you clutched your chest with one hand and lightly slapped his arm with the other.

“I’m sorry,” he pouted, giving you the sweetest puppy dog eyes. “Kiss?”

You sighed and smiled while pressing your lips to his. Hyunjin pulled you closer, his hands drifting down your sides to rest on your ass. He deepened the kiss, shoving his tongue in your mouth to tangle with yours. You let out a moan deep within your throat as he rutted his semi-hardened bulge into your core, his length pressed against you nicely, as a little reminder of what you do to him.

Hyunjin then nipped at your lips and leaned back and gazed at you, taking in your flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

“We’ll finish this later mm?” Hyunjin said before turning around and walking away.

You stood there stunned, your mind trying to catch up to what you were doing before. The smell of something burning caught your attention and you quickly grabbed an oven mitt to pull the lasagna out to cool. You hurried to set the table, placing the food in the center and called the boys to come eat.

Dinner was a strange affair as you were sitting across from the clone. You stole hurried glances at him while he scarfed down his food, not caring if it was hot enough to burn his tongue. Once he cleaned his plate, he sat back and smiled, seeming completely satiated.

“That was amazing y/n,” the clone said, pushing his plate away.

“Uhh, thanks,” you murmured as you pushed your food around, as you were starting to feel full.

“She’s a great cook huh?” Hyunjin bragged with a cocky grin. “That’s my girl.”

You chuckled and playfully hit Hyunjin on the shoulder, rolling your eyes as he dramatically clutched his arm. As you were teasing him for his theatrics, you missed how the clone eyed you, watching your every move and how you interacted with the real Hyunjin.

“Oh!” Hyunjin exclaimed, recovering from the show he was putting on, “What do we call you while I’m here? Might be a little confusing if we just say Hyunjin.”

All three of you were silent for a moment as you racked your brains for a nickname to call the clone to avoid confusion within the house. After a moment more, an idea popped into your head.

“What about Jinnie?” You suggested, looking from the clone to Hyunjin.

The clone looked at you for a moment as if he was pondering your choice, his facial expression unreadable. Hyunjin was silent as he waited for the clone’s response.

“I love it!” The clone responded, a wide grin spreading on his perfect face.

“Perfect! We’ll call you Jinnie then,” Hyunjin said while grasping your hand in his to give it a squeeze.

The rest of the evening passed without event, all three of you spending it in front of the tv, watching a movie that Hyunjin had heard was really good from Felix. As the movie went on, you began to feel tired, your eyes drooping and body feeling heavy as you leaned onto Hyunjin. You closed your eyes briefly, telling yourself you’d just take a little cat nap while the ending played on the screen.

However, you were jolted awake by Hyunjin, who was gently shaking your shoulder and calling your name. You quickly sat up, shocked you had actually fallen asleep.

“Let’s go sleepy head,” Hyunjin teased as he pulled you up from the couch. “I already showed Jinnie his room.”

You nodded and followed your boyfriend, slipping into your shared bedroom to get ready for bed. As you got ready for bed, going through the motions of getting into your sleep shirt, brushing your teeth and doing your skin care, Hyunjin prepped the bed pushing your stuffies aside and making sure all of your blankets were at the ready.

Hyunjin slid into bed, patting the space next to him. You giggled and padded over, snuggling under the blankets with your boyfriend. He pulled you close and pressed sloppy kisses to your face, causing you to giggle.

The kisses increased until his lips slotted with yours, soft and sweet, until he pressed his hard on into your thigh and bit your lip between his teeth.

“Need you love,” he whispered in between kisses.

His hands slide down your side, tracing the curves of your hips until he cupped your sex. You let out a soft moan as he slid a finger through your panties, pushing it between your folds soaking the fabric.

“Let me hear you love,” he cooed as he stared at your face, taking in how he was making you feel.

Hyunjin slid your panties to the side and pressed his finger directly against your clit before swirling fast but precise circles against the puffy bud. You whimpered against his lips as shocks of pleasure traveled through your core, your hips moving in time with his movements.

“That’s it love, eyes on me,” he said as his fingers sneaked down to your hole and sliding in within your warmth.

He curled his fingers up and rubbed the little gummy spot that makes your toes curl, your fingers digging into his biceps as he fucked you. You kept your eyes on his, feeling your high build up within you with each passing second.

Hyunjin could tell you were going to come, as he fucked you with his fingers, the palm of his hand giving your clit extra stimulation. His cock twitched within his sweats as you panted and moaned, whimpering his name over and over.

“Hyunjin, fuck! Gonna come!” You squealed as you felt the muscles tighten in your core before letting go, the walls contracting around his fingers as you let out a moan.

“Yes, that’s it love. Such a good girl coming on my fingers,” Hyunjin praised, smirking at the squeal you let out.

He withdrew his fingers and hurriedly pushed his sweats down, his cock finally free and dripping with precum. Hyunjin bunched your shirt up, exposing your lower half to him and spread your legs wider so he could fit more easily between them.

You watched him with a hooded gaze as he lazily stroked his cock, spreading the precum around his length.

“Ready for my cock love?” Hyunjin asked as he teased your clit with his tip, waiting for your response.

“Give me your cock baby,” you begged.

“Fuck!” Hyunjin groaned as he pushed in, his cock sliding in with ease with how wet you were.

He immediately set a fast pace, focused on getting you both to your highs. He was a sight to see above you, his eyes set in a fucked out expression as he bit his plush lips over and over. Beads of sweat pooled on his temple, the droplets making their way onto your belly as they fell away.

You let out a loud moan, so loud that you’re sure Jinnie heard in the guest room. You couldn’t bring yourself to care however, as you focused on how your lovers cock felt deep within you, fucking you just how you like it, until your orgasm built once more, threatening to spill over at any moment. -- -- Jinnie was on his way back to his room after washing up when he heard your moans, high pitched and shrill and mixed with deeper, lower ones. He stopped in front of the door to your bedroom which was slightly cracked allowing him to hear and see the activities that were occurring more easily.

He should walk away and ignore you both, but how could he when you sounded so sweet. Jinnie felt his cock swell in his pants, the tent becoming very noticeable. Ignoring the discomfort he felt down below, he focused his eye on the crack of the door and watched. Watched as his double fucked you within an inch of your life. Listened as you moaned and screamed Hyunjin’s name…his name.

He could see your face, how your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your tongue lolling out as you withered around in pleasure. He could see your toes curl as your legs wrapped around Hyunjin’s waist pulling him closer and deeper. He could hear your wet pussy, the squelches it made as Hyunjin’s cock speared you open.

Jinnie was in awe of you. He found himself wanting to be the one fucking you, causing you to orgasm over and over underneath him. He wanted to be the one to hold you tight at night as you slumbered. He wanted to be the one that loves you.

As you came with a loud yell, he decided he would have you, so you could call him yours and vice versa.

As the weeks passed, all three of you settled into your new routines. Hyunjin and Jinnie would go off to the studio, their schedules busy with rehearsals and recordings for the new album and tour. You stayed home most days, working on your sketches for the fashion show that was coming up as you were a fashion designer. Occasionally you would go into the office for meetings.

The boys usually got home exhausted but energetic, yapping about their day nonstop. You watched in amazement as both of them animatedly reenacted some scene Minho and Jisung had recreated. You couldn’t help but think that they were so similar, the way their brains processed what to say or do next, to the way they moved, almost as if they were in sync.

“And scene!” Hyunjin shouted as he took a bow while Jinnie clapped in delight.

“I have no clue what just happened,” you teased, shaking your head in disbelief.

“What?!” Hyunjin whined, a pout forming on his face.

“We were reenacting the scene from that new action movie that just came out. Minho and Jisung were adamant that we learn the moves and lines,” Jinnie explained with an apologetic look on his face.

“Ah makes sense,” you chuckled.

Hyunjin collapsed on the floor and grabbed his water bottle to take a swig. You sat next to Jinnie, feeling slightly more comfortable with him, but still a little on edge. Hyunjin would be leaving soon to embark on the group’s five month long tour, leaving you here with Jinnie. Anytime he mentioned how close the date was, you would freak out, voicing your concerns at being alone with practically a stranger.

However, Hyunjin would dismiss your concerns saying Jinnie isn’t a stranger, it’s basically him. He’d always reassure you that if he didn’t need the clone, he would not have it. Simple as that. But the company wanted the members to use the clones so they can progress in their careers, so there was nothing he could really do.

You understood, knowing his hands were tied, so you put up with Jinnie and tried to get not let his similarities to Hyunjin get to you.

“Should we have one last game night before I have to leave?” Hyunjin suggested. “We can order take out and everything.”

You and Jinnie both agreed and began picking out a game while Hyunjin ordered the food. It wasn’t long before you three were settled on the floor, board game set up with food all around you. The night passed with friendly banter, making you feel even more at ease with the clone.

“Don’t forget my favorite sweatshirts!” Hyunjin called out to you from the bathroom as you rummaged through the drawers.

You were helping Hyunjin pack as he was leaving for the tour the next day. You spotted the sweatshirts he mentioned and groaned, realizing that his favorite sweatshirts were also your favorites and that you wouldn’t have anything to wear for comfort while he was gone.

“Can you leave one here with me please? I need to have something of yours while you’re gone.”

Hyunjin poked his head from the bathroom. “I suppose. Pick whichever one you want.”

You smiled and began to shift through the fabric, deciding on his black hoodie. You gathered the others and carefully folded them before placing them in his suitcase. You gathered his shirts, pants, socks, and boxers, ensuring he had everything he would need while gone. Satisfied with your work you announced to your boyfriend that you were done packing.

Hyunjin came out of the bathroom, carrying his toiletries with a smile. “Thanks love.”

“Of course, anything for my lover,” you cooed. “You have everything you need.”

“Everything?” Hyunjin asked as he set down his bag in the suitcase.

You cocked your head at him, wandering what he was talking about. You slowly backed away as he stalked toward you, a smirk on his face. As your back hit the wall, Hyunjin approached you.

“I won’t have you,” he murmured as he cupped your chin.

You held your breath as he gently pressed his lips to yours, savoring the slow moment. You were going to miss this, miss him. As you clutched onto his shirt, Hyunjin deepened the kiss as he pressed his body closer to yours until there was barely any space left between you two.

You let out a whimper as he disconnected from you, his eyes on your swollen, red lips.

“Can I have my girl tonight?” He softly said, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

You nodded your head as you gazed into his eyes, your pussy clenching over nothing at the implications of his words. Hyunjin smiled and then guided you to the bed. He helped you get comfortable before peeling off your clothes, layer by layer until you lay bare for him.

Parting your legs, Hyunjin settled between them, his eyes on your wet pussy. “Let me take care of you baby,” Hyunjin cooed as he leaned down to get comfortable.

He licked up your folds collecting your slick that was there coating your skin. You let out a low moan as he repeated the action again and again until he dived in, his lips wrapping around your clit in earnest. He began to suck gently, rolling your bundle of nerves on his tongue every now and then, causing you to mewl out.

You gripped his hair, holding him to your pussy as he ate you out, his tongue lapping at clit before pushing into your hole to lick at your walls. You couldn’t help but buck your hips into his mouth as he moaned, the vibrations traveling into your core. You watched your lover as he licked and sucked before leaning back, resting his head on your thigh as he placed lazy kisses on the flesh.

Minutes turned to hours as he edged you, playing with your pussy just the way he likes until you were whimpering and begging for him to let you cum. As he looked up at you during a break, he gently stroked your outer thigh, gazing at you with love in his eyes.

“My sweet girl ready to cum?” He asked, his eyebrows raising as he waited for your answer.

“Yes, yes, please let me cum,” you whined.

Hyunjin smirked before turning back to your pussy, eyeing the flesh. You were soaked, your slick coating every inch of your pussy, your thighs, and the sheets below. He parted your folds carefully, exposing your engorged clit. God he loved when he had you like this, needy and begging, your pussy waiting to be devoured so you could come on his face.

He wasted no time wrapping his mouth around your clit, this time sucking hard and fast. You were a mess as pleasure spread throughout your core. Hyunjin searched for your hands and once he found them he interlaced his fingers with yours as he continued to suckle your clit.

You squeezed his hands as you rocked your hips, riding his face as your high built up within. You whispered a litany of Hyunjin’s name, pleading for him not to stop with Hyunjin humming at your demands, as he pressed his face further into your folds.

With a particular suck and roll of your clit against his tongue, your orgasm hit hard and you let out a loud moan as Hyunjin continued to suck to help you ride out your high. Once satisfied, he leaned back and licked his lips, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste. He took you in as you breathed heavy and laid in the mess you made, completely fucked out.

You were in and out of sleep as Hyunjin carefully cleaned you up before he cuddled next to you holding you tight in his arms. You felt at ease as you snuggled in closer to him, listening to the sound of his heart beat. And as you drifted off to sleep, you dreamed that he didn’t have to go on his tour, that he would stay here with you. But of course, that was only a dream which this time would not come true.

“Have a safe flight baby,” you said with tears in your eyes as you straightened out Hyunjin’s scarf.

The day of the members departure was here. Most of the boys were already outside gathering their luggage, but Hyunjin stayed behind in the van to say goodbye to you.

“Aww don’t cry love. I’ll be back before you know it! And we’ll talk on the phone every night.” Hyunjin said as he wiped your tears away.

“You better,” you mumbled with a pout on your face causing Hyunjin to chuckle.

“Now give me a kiss!” Hyunjin demanded.

He pulled you close and slotted his lips with yours, pressing sweet kisses again and again. You clutched onto his sweatshirt, holding tight as he deepened the kiss, a small moan leaving his lips as his tongue tangled with yours. You both were lost in each other, neither wanting to let go, but time had other plans. There was a sharp rap on the window which startled you both causing you to jump away from each other.

“Well I guess I should go,” Hyunjin murmured as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice laced with sadness.

Hyunjin gathered his bags and opened the door to climb out to a sea of fans and flashing lights. He spared you one more glance, giving you a small smile before stepping next to the others. You watched him as the van drove away, away from your lover.

You weren’t sure what to expect over the next five months, but you hoped it would go by quickly.

When you arrived home, you walked into an empty house as Jinnie was back at the building recording songs for the next album. You took the opportunity to get some work done yourself. You grabbed your sketchbook and some snacks and made yourself cozy on the couch. You began to sketch, finishing up some designs on some dresses.

Time passed as you worked, you getting lost in the vision that was being translated on paper that you didn’t hear the door open as Jinnie came home. He was so quiet that you were startled when he sat next to you to peer over your shoulder.

“Whatcha doing?” Jinnie asked, curiosity in his eyes.

“Oh my god!” You screeched as you clutched at your chest. “You scared me!”

Jinnie’s face changed from curiosity to something sadder, his eyes downcast as he fumbled with his fingers. He didn’t mean to scare you, he just wanted to see what you were working on, wanting to be there for you since Hyunjin was gone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Jinnie said, giving you puppy dog eyes as if he was begging for attention.

You regarded the man next to you. He was dressed in grey sweats and a white t-shirt with his hair in a half up, half down hairstyle…just how Hyunjin was dressed for his travels. Did Jinnie dress like Hyunjin on purpose? You’re not sure but it was weird.

“It’s okay,” you said as you closed your sketchbook. You were definitely not getting anymore work done tonight.

You both sat in silence, unsure of what to say or do…that is until your stomach growled. Jinnie perked up, a grin on his face.

“Wanna order take out?” He inquired, cocking his head to the side.

“Um, sure,” you murmured. “While you order I’m going to go take a shower.”

Jinnie nodded and pulled out his phone, pulling up the delivery app to browse options.

You began to walk to your bedroom before remembering that he doesn’t know what to order you. Turning around you said, “Oh you can order me…”

But you were cut off, Jinnie picking up his head to look at you. “I know what you like.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. He knew what you liked? How was that possible? Hyunjin always did the ordering. Did Hyunjin discuss with Jinnie your likes and dislikes? You looked up to see Jinnie staring at you, with a look on his face you couldn’t quite place. It was slightly unsettling as he didn’t blink, but sat frozen with his eyes trained on you.

“Oh…okay then,” you said before booking it to your bedroom.

Once on the other side of the door, you let out a breath of relief. That was a little weird you must admit and the way he stared at you, like he knew something you didn’t. As your heart rate settled, you padded across the room, gathering the things you needed for your shower.

You turned the water on and stripped your clothes off before getting under the warm stream of water. You emptied your mind, the thoughts of what just occurred leaving your mind and draining with the water that ran down your body. Once your mind was clear, you were able to fully enjoy your shower, the scent of your honey and green tea body wash relaxing you.

You stayed under the stream until the water ran cold. You quickly got out wanting to put on something warm, plus your stomach was rumbling so loud you’re sure the neighbors could hear it. You put on your favorite pjs and passed Hyunjin’s sweatshirt over your head, taking in his scent.

Satisfied and refreshed, you returned to the living room to the smell of comfort food. You walked a little faster, ready to dig into whatever Jinnie ordered. As you entered, Jinnie looked up with a smile and gestured for you to sit next to him.

“Here you go, all plated up and ready for you to eat!” He exclaimed as he set down a plate of food.

You were taken aback, not used to having your plate made, but accepted it nonetheless. As you scooped the first bite of Mac and cheese into your mouth, you let out a moan, savoring the cheese on your tastebuds. This was just what you needed after a day like today.

You both ate in silence, watching the show that Jinnie picked before you came in. He doted on you every second of dinner, making sure you had enough food and drink. If you needed something, he got it for you, not wanting you to get up. Things were okay until he reached out to wipe a string of cheese off your chin, his gaze on you.

It felt oddly intimate, the man who looked just like your boyfriend cleaning your face. You were conflicted, not sure if you should accept the help or push him away. However, before you could decide, he pulled back before sticking the finger he just cleaned your face with in his mouth. You stared in shock as he sucked on the digit, licking the food residue clean.

As he removed his finger with a pop, he chuckled and turned to look back at the tv like nothing happened. You were still frozen in place, your mind trying to catch up to what Jinnie just did. Maybe it was time to retire for the night, before anything else occured.

You thanked Jinnie for the food and excused yourself to lock yourself in your bedroom. Is this what things would be like with Hyunjin gone? You were a mix of emotions, the feeling of confusion, fear, and a little excitement stirring deep within. You began to get ready for bed, wanting to be within the safety and comfort of your blankets. — — Jinnie wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you. He knew you would be sad that Hyunjin was gone but he found that an obstacle he could easily remedy. After all he was here. He is Hyunjin, whether you realized it or not. He has Hyunjin’s looks, his mannerisms, characteristics, he is the perfect copy of the man you called your boyfriend.

He began to clean up the mess from dinner, a smile on his face at how it went. He could tell you were impressed as he made sure you had everything you needed. Even though it was only the first day, things were going smoothly, and if he had anything to say about it, he would continue to make sure it remained so.

As the weeks passed, you became used to Jinnie, how he took care of you, gave you company after he was done with work. You weren’t lonely, which you were thankful for. You finished your sketches for work and had delivered them to the team, the next phase of the project fully underway. You spoke with Hyunjin every night, discussing your day and listening to him talk about his performances.

You missed him dearly, expressing so on the phone every night. Your heart swelled as you listened to Hyunjin profess his love to you, promising to come back very soon. Listening to his voice calmed you, making you feel more at ease with the time remaining that he would be gone. Every time Hyunjin ended the call, he’d always remind you to let Jinnie care for you in any way you needed, making you promise that you’d do so.

After speaking with Hyunjin one night, you laid in bed wide awake, your mind on your boyfriend instead of sleep. You needed him, wanted to feel him, touch him as it’s been so long. With a sigh, you began to drift your hands over your body, lightly brushing them over your breasts, circling your nipples causing you to become wet.

You slowly drifted your hands down, slipping it within your panties to touch your aching core. You began to circle your clit, letting out a mewl at the pleasure that your fingers brought you. Your mind drifted to Hyunjin, thinking of how he would touch you, soft and gentle at first before speeding up, bringing you to your high and savoring the little sounds you made as you let go.

Your eyes were closed as you continued to pleasure yourself, your orgasm steadily building at the thought of your lover. Your moans increased in pitch with each passing minute to the point you didn’t hear the door crack open and Jinnie step in.

You rocked your hips against your fingers, moaned Hyunjin’s name like a prayer, your eyes opening briefly just to see Jinnie standing at the door staring at you, a bulge clearly visible in the sweatpants he was wearing. You let out a gasp and removed your fingers from your panties before sitting up.

“What are you doing here?!” You shrieked, pulling your blankets up your legs to cover yourself.

Jinnie continued to look at you with lust in his eyes. He heard you from his room, your sweet moans as you called out his name as you pleasured yourself. He tried to ignore it, but you just sounded too sweet.

“Let me make you feel good,” Jinnie said as he slowly walked toward you. “You need me baby, so let me. Will you?”

Shit, he must have heard you through the walls. You continued to eye him as he stalked towards you, a pleading look on his face. You were still wet, your panties sticking to your skin, a constant reminder to what you were doing before you were interrupted. You were sad at how you weren’t able to orgasm, the need still pooling in your core.

Your mind was so hazy, drunk with lust and filled with need that you wanted to believe Jinnie was Hyunjin. You remembered how you craved Hyunjin’s touch, wanting to fall apart at the mercy of his fingers. Looking at the man in front of you, you thought fuck it and leaned back on your pillow and removed your blankets from your lower half, exposing your soaked core to him.

Jinnie licked his lips, his eyes trained on your covered pussy, your folds clearly visible through your panties. He quickly scrambled onto the bed, laying on his stomach to come face to face with your core.

You watched as he looked you in the eyes before pressing a soft kiss to your covered clit over and over leaving you breathless at the teasing sensation. Jinnie was in no rush as he pressed kisses down your left thigh, then your right before once more pressing a kiss to your clit.

By this point, you were begging, pleading for him to touch you so you could cum, the pleasure so overwhelming from his actions that you felt sparks shoot down your thighs and little flutters in your belly.

Jinnie chuckled as he pushed your panties to the side, finally coming face to face with your sopping folds. You let out a loud moan as he licked up your slit before taking your clit in his mouth and began to suckle the bud. Your fingers tangled in his hair, guiding his head as plunged his tongue into your hole. With each groan he let out, your arousal gushed out, coating his face as he licked up every drop, not wanting to waste your sweet slick.

You were close, the feeling of the band coiling tighter and tighter within you. You gripped Jinnie’s hair tighter, spreading your legs wider so he could continue without hindrance.

“Lemme come, please, please,” you whimpered.

Jinnie let out a hum, acknowledging your pleas. He’d like nothing more for you to come on his tongue. With a few more suckles he heard you let out a moan as you let go, copious amounts of your release leaking out of your pussy to trickle down your ass and coat his chin. He licked you clean, sticking his tongue in your entrance one last time to massage your walls as you came down.

Once he felt your grip slack on his hair, he leaned back, and gazed down at you. You stared back at him, noticing his blown out pupils and raging boner. All you could do was regulate your breathing as you watched him strip, his shirt coming off with ease to reveal his toned abs, followed by his sweats, his cock springing out and slapping his belly.

You took him in, your eyes glued to his cock that was perfectly identical to Hyunjin’s, down to the little mole on the shaft that you loved so much. Jinnie scooted closer to you and lifted your legs up and onto his shoulders before sheathing himself within you.

You moaned at the familiar stretch, your mind blown with how he can feel just like your boyfriend. You didn’t have time to think much as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your pussy at a fast pace. It was uncanny at how he knew how to fuck you, how to angle his hips so he can reach that spot that makes your toes curl.

Jinnie smirked at you as if he could read your thoughts, gripping your legs tighter as he slammed his hips into yours. You were his, that he was certain, and he was going to keep it that way.

You clenched around his cock as you felt your orgasm build once more, shock on your face mixed with pleasure at the fact that you were going to come again so soon.

“That’s right baby, come on my cock. Come on Jinnie’s cock,” he cooed, bringing one hand down to thumb at your clit.

You felt the pressure build in your lower belly, stronger than it usually was. The pressure was so much that you thought you were going to pee. Before you could mumble for Jinnie to stop, you let go, your orgasm hitting you hard. You tossed your head back as your vision went white, little stars forming in front of you as you heard a ringing in your ears. You felt your release leak out, so much so that you began to panic.

“No no baby, just lay back, you squirted baby and that’s just so fucking hot,” Jinnie moaned as he punctuated each syllable with a thrust of his hips.

His eyes drifted to your pussy, how wet you were, your pussy talking with each drag of his cock within you. You were perfect, your pussy was perfect, and he was going to claim you, mark you as his. With a few more thrusts, he stilled, his pelvis flush to your ass as he came, his cum flooding your insides and mixing with your slick that was now starting to pool on the sheets.

As he came down from his high, he withdrew his cock, watching as his cum seeped from your pussy. He looked up into your eyes, his heart fluttering as you gazed up at him with a look he couldn’t decipher. He started to get up, thinking he’s overstayed his welcome when you reached out and mumbled “stay.”

You were more than satisfied, your lower half full of his cum, your clit and pussy tingling from the abuse it received. Maybe it’s because you were missing Hyunjin, but as Jinnie got up to leave, you reached out to him and said the one word you never thought you’d say. You watched as Jinnie looked in shock, but then love as he scooted next to you, cuddling you close to his body.

As time passed your eyes became heavy, sleep catching up to your exhausted body. And with the sound of Jinnie’s beating heart and warmth he provided, you feel into a deep sleep.

— —

Ever since you let Jinnie in your bed, it’s become a ritual, where he joins you once you’ve showered. He makes sweet love to you, providing you with orgasm after orgasm until you fall asleep, satisfied and exhausted.

You didn’t mind, matter of fact you were ecstatic, your needs being taken care of while Hyunjin was gone. You mentioned to him one night about the arrangement worried he would object. However, he wholeheartedly thought it was okay, happy that you were being cared for in more ways than one.

Jinnie was your savor in Hyunjin’s absence. He took such good care for you, no matter how tired he was from rehearsal. He made your meals, pampered you, fucked you, made sure you didn’t want for nothing. At first you didn’t mind, as it was nice to be doted on, especially in your lovers absence. However, over time you started to notice slight differences in Jinnie’s behavior.

He became more clingy, wanting to be with you whenever he wasn’t at work. However, that even changed when one day he suggested you bring your work with you so you could join him at the studio. When you declined, he felt dejected, his head hung low with hurt in his eyes. You didn’t care however, as you wanted to carry on with life as usual, not breaking up your routine, especially when it came to work.

Things seemed to be okay as Jinnie backed down a little, staying in his lane and just going with the flow. He hadn’t joined you in bed for a few weeks now, wanting to give you your space. You were grateful for it, needing the room to breathe and take time to think.

However, you began to miss Hyunjin even more as month four hit, his absence starting to take a toll on you.

Jinnie started to notice a change in your behavior, noticing that you seemed more sad than usual. Thinking you needed to be pampered he planned a movie night filled with your favorite snacks.

You joined begrudgingly, not really wanting to be next to him, but also not wanting to hurt his feelings. You chose your snacks and grabbed a blanket to cuddle up for the movie.

Halfway through, Jinnie turned to you and placed a hand on your knee. “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You looked at Jinnie and said, “I’m just missing Hyunjin,” which was the truth. Your mind was actually on your boyfriend and what you two would be doing right now if he was home.

“Oh y/n, don’t you get it? I am Hyunjin,” Jinnie said.

You were taken aback at his response. The way he was looking at you as if he needed you to understand what he said, to how his hand was still on your knee made you feel uncomfortable.

“You’re not Hyunjin,” you countered, narrowing your eyes at the clone.

“Why of course I am,” Jinnie said with a confused face.

You slowly began to unravel yourself from the blankets and stand up to back away slowly. Something isn’t right. The clone truly believes he is Hyunjin. You didn’t know what to say so you continued to back up until you reached your room. You fumbled for the doorknob and finally finding it, you gave it a twist and quickly stepped inside. After closing the door, you locked it, the click it made making you feel a little more safe.

You walked to your bedside and found your phone, dialing Hyunjin’s number immediately.

“Hey baby!” Hyunjin answered enthusiastically.

You felt the opposite of happy however. “Hyunjin, I’m scared,” you voiced, a slight tremble evident in your voice.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, his enthusiasm now turned to concern.

“Jinnie just said that he is you. I really think your clone thinks he’s the original you.”

Hyunjin was quiet, the line silent as the seconds passed on. Finally, Hyunjin responded, “Baby, what are you talking about?”

“You heard me!” You shrieked, desperation in your voice. “Isn’t there something you can do?!”

“Okay, okay, calm down love. I’ll talk with the manager and see what we can do okay?”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but at least it was something. “Okay,” you softly said.

“Okay, good,” Hyunjin paused for a moment, listening to whoever was talking to him on the other side. “Listen love, I gotta go. I’ll talk to the manager and then let you know what they say. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said and hung up.

Now what were you going to do? You couldn’t stay in here forever, although it was tempting. Maybe just for tonight? Yeah, that would work and then tomorrow you can face the nightmare that was right outside your door. — — “Good morning baby!” Jinnie said as he gestured for you to sit, as he had made a huge spread for breakfast.

You cautiously sat down and grabbed some toast, nibbling on the corners as you eyed the clone.

“I was thinking we could go to the park today. I have an empty schedule today.”

You really didn’t want to go anywhere with this clone, but for your safety, you may have to play along.

“Okay,” you agreed half heartedly.

Jinnie’s face lit up at your answer and continued to eat his breakfast. After you finished your toast you got up and walked to the couch, plopping down on the soft cushions. You waited for Jinnie to finish, not wanting to be in the same room with him if you didn’t have to.

However, all too soon, he finished his meal and came to stand beside you waiting for you to get up. Sighing you followed him out of the door, your mood the total opposite of his. You stayed silent as he chattered away filling your day with him.

— —

And so it went day after day, you making sure Jinnie was happy, and unsuspicious. You didn’t let him into your bed anymore, not feeling safe with the prospect. Each night, Hyunjin would reassure you everything would be alright and he’d be home soon, in less than a week in fact. You wanted the days to pass quickly, so you wouldn’t have to be in the house by yourself with Jinnie anymore.

Jinnie slowly started to notice the change, after you turned your head away as he tried to kiss you. He stared at you confused, his eyes trying to catch yours. He tried to kiss you again before you pushed him away. He felt a fire build in his chest at your refusal. Don’t you want, no need him? He’s your boyfriend after all.

“Can I not kiss my girlfriend?” He questioned, reaching out for you.

“I’m not your girlfriend,” you said, not sure what he would do next.

“What do you mean? Of course you’re my girlfriend!” He said with a chuckle.

“You’re not hyunjin!”

This again. Jinnie was tired of hearing you say that. When would you understand he is Hyunjin, the one and only. He is Hyunjn, your boyfriend, the love of your life. Glaring at you, he stepped closer, watching as you stepped back in fear.

“I. Am. Hyunjin.”

Three words, each punctuated in a menacing tone. You were afraid, not sure what he would do. You slowly backed up toward the door, wanting to keep a safe distance between you and the clone.

“Where are you going baby? Why are you running from me?” Jinnie asked, his face falling into a pleading look.

“Stay…stay back!” You shouted as you got closer to the door.

Jinnie began to shake his head, his hands reaching up to grasp at the strands of hair. He dropped them suddenly and rushed towards you, his voice loud and pleading.

“Please baby! I love you! I am Hyunjin! Why are you turning me away?”

You were about to let out a blood curdling scream when Jinnie stopped in his tracks, his face scrunched up in confusion. He tried to move, but found he couldn’t, his eyes on yours. A few more seconds passed before he collapsed on the floor in a heap, his eyes staring straight ahead.

What just happened? You were staring at the clone in shock, too scared to move. Suddenly, you heard a key in the door and stepped away so you wouldn’t get hit. The door opened quickly and Hyunjin stepped through concern on his face as he took in the scene before him.

“Y/n!” He said as he ran to you, engulfing you in his arms for a hug.

You clutched onto his shirt, breathing in his scent that was so familar to you. Hyunjin is here. The real Hyunjin. Your Hyunjin. You buried your face in his chest and began to sob tears of happiness. You were happy this nightmare was over. — — After that eventful day, someone from the company came to take Jinnie away. Hyunjin explained that he was able to get in contact with the manager who spoke with the engineers on possible solutions to your problem. They suggested a system shut down, deactivating the little chip that was implanted in the clones head.

The whole process took thirty minutes, the perfect amount of time for Hyunjin to get from the airport and back to you. He listened as you explained everything that happened, how Jinnie assumed the role of Hyunjin, as he thoroughly was convinced he was the original.

He became obsessed with the role, wanting you to believe it too, which obviously you knew it wasn’t true. After you were done with your tale, Hyunjin cradled you to his body, running his fingers through your hair.

“I’m so glad you’re okay love,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to your head.

You hummed in agreement, snuggling closer to your lover. “So what happens next? You know…since you won’t have a clone?”

“Oh I’ll have to just make it work and work a little extra, but it’ll be worth it if it means you’re safe.”

Your heart ached at the fact that he would have to put in overtime to pick up the slack, but you understood his stance. You wanted to be safe and with your boyfriend, with no extras in the house such as a clone.

-- -- Life went back to normal after a while. You had a successful fashion show, your designs impressing the judges and catching the eyes of some of the fashion gurus. Hyunjin was working more, but was handling the process with grace.

He always came home to you with a smile on his face, ready to smoother you with love. You were glad to have someone in your bed again, happy that it was your boyfriend as he knew you the best, loved you the best.

Hyunjin made sure to remind you nightly as he sheathed himself within your walls, fucking you nice and slow as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, as he touched you just right, grinning as you fell apart to his fingers, mouth, cock.

Yes, life was back to normal and the clone was a thing of the past. You were happy to have your ordinary life back, the thought of the clone slowly being pushed into the back of the recesses of your mind. You had to be around the other members clones occasionally, but that you didn’t mind, as they seemed normal and understood their place.

What once was a good idea turned into a nightmare, as sometimes having a copy of yourself can do more harm than good.

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #skz smut #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios

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chancloud8 · 4 months ago

Text

Teach Me {4}

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series masterlist

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader, Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Tags: fluff, kissing, second base, nsfw, very light smut?

Summary: Jisung joins you for some alone time in the bathroom and afterwards you have an interesting conversation with him and Chan.

*****************************

Two hours into dance practice, you get bored. You’ve already scrolled through all your social media accounts, massaged Felix’ back and Jeongin’s cramping calf, and went on a coffee run for everyone. It was a miracle to you how the guys were still going, dancing with almost as much energy as when they started.

With a sigh you throw your phone on the couch cushion next to you and stand up to throw away your empty coffee cup. Changbin notices you in the mirror and winks at you before effortlessly falling into the dance routine they’re doing. For a moment you watch them again, the way their bodies move to the beat like they’re made for it. When the guys dance it’s almost impossible to look away, but after two hours it’s a little easier.

‘Y/N?’ Felix calls out to you over the music when you’re about to slip out of the room to head to the bathroom. Everyone else keeps dancing, but the blonde moves away from the group and towards you with a frown on his face. ‘You okay?’

You smile at him. ‘I’m perfect Lix, I’m just going to the bathroom.’

The frown disappears from his beautiful face immediately and he nods, already walking backwards to the others again. ‘You know where it is, right?’

You give him a thumbs up and quickly slip out of the room before anyone else can stop you, your bladder already screaming in protest. Maybe that big cup of iced coffee had been a mistake. The bathroom is quiet and after relieving yourself and washing your hands, you stay a little longer, just leaning against the sink with your eyes closed. You always like a quiet moment every now and then to recharge.

A knock on the door makes you startle and when you look down at your watch, your eyes widen. You’ve been gone for a little over twenty minutes already.

‘Y/N? Everything okay?’ Jisung calls out, slowly opening the door a little.

You rush to the door to open it completely, revealing Jisung with a concerned frown on his face. There’s a towel around his neck and his face is still flushed from dancing.

‘I’m good, just enjoying the quiet for a bit,’ you explain, smiling up at him.

‘Can I join?’ he asks, taking a step forward already as if he doesn’t think you’ll say no. Which you won’t.

‘Sure, but shouldn’t we head back?’ you reply, turning your back to the door to face Jisung.

‘I’ll text them,’ he says, already typing on his phone.

You shrug and walk back to the sink, lifting yourself up to sit on the counter this time. Maybe he wants to talk about something or just enjoy some quiet himself, both are fine with you.

When Jisung looks up from his phone and sees you sitting on the counter, he blinks, his eyes lingering on your exposed legs that are dangling in the air, swinging back and forth. He puts his phone away and steps forward until his stomach touches your knees.

‘Uhm, hi?’ you laugh quietly, a bit startled at his sudden closeness.

‘Hey,’ he grins, placing his hands on the sink at either side of your thighs, caging you in between his strong arms. ‘Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?’

You blink rapidly, your heartbeat rising and you suddenly feel hot all over.

‘If what’s too much?’ you ask, your voice sounds strange to your own ears.

‘Anything. If I'm too close, if I make you uncomfortable, if I touch you somewhere you don’t want me to. Just say the word and I’m backing off, okay?’ Jising says. ‘The little show Felix and Jinnie put up with you in the studio earlier made me a little jealous.’

‘Jealous?’ you feel like an idiot for repeating his words back at him, but your brain feels hazy from his close proximity, the scent of his cologne and sweat is intoxicating somehow.

Jisung brings one of his hands up to trial his fingers over the red and purple bruises Felix left on your throat.

‘Mhm,’ he hums. ‘Maybe it’s wrong of me, but I can’t help it.’

You swallow, nervous butterflies erupt in your stomach as he sets his hands back down and leans in even closer, his breath fanning your lips.

‘Would it help if I let you introduce me to something new?’ you whisper and you have no idea where that bold question just came from. ‘I mean, would that make you less jealous?’

Jisung grins and leans forward to press a soft kiss on your lips. ‘That would help me very much, baby.’

‘Okay,’ you nod. ‘But you do know there’s nothing to be jealous of right?’

Jisung leans his forehead against yours. ‘I know and I know we said that it wouldn’t get weird between us, which it won’t, I promise, but we do all want to teach you.’

‘Which you will,’ you say. ‘Or I wouldn’t have agreed.’

‘I know,’ Jisung repeats with a laugh. ‘It’s just silly, it’s probably our hormones or something.’

You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck. ‘I can’t say I know much about male hormones, but okay sure.’

Jisung nuzzles his nose against yours before kissing you. He’s the fourth of the guys to kiss you and it amazes you how all of them kiss differently, it’s interesting really and it fits each of them so well. Jisung kisses you softly, slowly, like he’s not in a hurry to be anywhere while his hands stroke your sides.

Your fingers tangle in his soft hair, remembering what Chan had said the other day about most guys enjoying it when you pulled their hair in the heat of the moment. At first you just play with the strands at the back of his neck, focussing on the way his mouth moves over yours, but when he finally flicks his tongue over your bottom lip, you pull.

Jisung doesn’t disappoint and moans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your side. The sound sets your whole body on fire and without thinking you wrap your legs around his waist, to pull him closer. You gasp when the movement connects your core with his stomach, creating a delicious friction you’ve never felt before. Tingles spread all over your body and feeling dizzy you pull back from the kiss, panting loudly against Jisung’s mouth.

‘Damn,’ he mutters, moving his hands to your bare thighs around his waist. ‘I’m not sure if you even need us to teach you, you’re a natural.’

You look down at where your body is pressed up against Jisung and the sight makes even more heat pool in your belly, it feels funny. Your skirt has ridden up even further on your thighs, almost showing off your panties.

Jisung follows your gaze and groans, his fingers squeezing your thighs. ‘Look at that, so beautiful wrapped around me like that.’

‘Yeah?’ you whisper, lifting your head to look him in the eyes again.

‘Oh yes,’ Jisung sighs. ‘It will be even better when you’re naked, but that’s something for the future, hm?’

You nod, grateful for his understanding. So far all of the guys have been so good to you, never crossing a line you weren’t ready to cross yet.

‘Has anyone touched you yet?’ he asks, leaning in to press his lips against your jaw.

Your heart skips a beat at his question or maybe it’s because of his mouth on your skin, or both, you don’t really know nor care.

‘N-no, it’s been just kissing so far,’ you stammer and nervously lick your lips.

‘Okay, so just first base so far, kissing and receiving hickeys,’ Jisungs leans back a little to look at you. ‘How do you feel about second base?’

Your breath hitches and you accidentally pull on Jisungs hair that’s still wrapped around your fingers.

‘Ungh,’ a strange noise leaves Jisung’s mouth and he closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing, his Adam's apple moving visibly.

‘Sorry,’ you hurriedly untangle your fingers from his hair and place them on his chest instead.

Jisung shakes his head and opens his eyes again. ‘It’s okay,’ he smiles. ‘What was I saying again?’

You giggle and pluck an invisible piece of lint from his shirt, your cheeks heating up. ‘Something about second base?’

One of Jisung’s hands leaves your thigh to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently pinching as he forces you to look him in the eye.

‘Do you think you’re okay with that? It’s okay if you’re not, you know, I’ll happily just kiss you until we run out of breath,’ he grins.

You can’t help but giggle again and you nervously shift against him at the thought of him touching you in more ways than he already has. The movement makes that same delicious friction as before as your core moves against his stomach. Your eyes widen at the feeling and Jisung bites his lip, clearly not unaffected by it as well.

‘I’m okay with it,’ you whisper, clutching onto his shirt.

‘Mhm, good,’ Jisung hums, placing his hand back on your thigh and leaning forward to latch his lips onto your collarbone while his fingers slowly inch up until they disappear under the fabric of your skirt.

Your entire skin breaks out in goosebumps and Jisung chuckles, kissing his way to your neck, licking and nibbling as he goes. He even leaves a few marks of his own between the bruises Felix already gave you.

‘As much as I want to touch you right here,’ Jisung whispers against your jaw, his fingertips nearly grazing your panties. ‘Let’s not move too fast shall we.’

A small part of you is disappointed and wants to beg him to do just that, to touch you where your body seems to hum with heat, but you appreciate him for trying to take it slow with you.

‘Okay,’ you breathe, tilting your head to give him more access to your neck.

Jisung kisses a trail of open mouthed kisses on your neck all the way up to your earlobe, gently biting down on it with his teeth.

You gasp and your body jolts, pushing you against him once more. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the feeling and it takes everything in you not to buck your hips forward to feel that again and again.

‘So sensitive,’ Jisung smiles. ‘I wonder if you’re like that here as well.’

You’re just about to ask where he means when his fingers slide under the hem of your shirt, gliding upwards over your warm and naked skin. You shiver and he kisses you again, licking into your mouth with no hesitation.

His hands move from your belly to your back first, exploring every inch before he caresses your sides and slowly moves up until his thumbs brush against the underside of your breasts. His fingers are gone before you can even register it and he moves his hands to your back again, this time playing with the clasp of your bra.

‘You can take it off,’ you say against his mouth, getting impatient by his teasing.

Jisung chuckles against your lips, nipping your bottom lip at the same time as he easily opens the clasp, freeing your breasts. You make quick work of getting the straps off your arms and dropping the bra on the floor as you pull Jisung close again by wrapping your arms around his neck.

His fingers tease the underside of your breasts again and you whine in the back of your throat, wanting him to actually touch you. Another chuckle vibrates against your lips, but then he finally cups your breasts in his hand, his thumbs flicking your nipples. You arch your back at the surprisingly good feeling and gasp against his mouth. He does it again and again, until you’re shivering in his arms.

‘I knew you’d like it,’ Jisung whispers when he pulls away from your lips, to once more kiss down your neck. ‘Can I take your shirt off?’

You release Jisung’s neck and grab the hem of your shirt yourself to pull it over your head in one swift movement, throwing it on the floor next to your bra. The cool air feels nice against your bare chest and you only have a moment to realize what you’ve just done before Jisung lets out a loud laugh, his eyes gazing over your exposed skin.

‘I love this side of you, baby,’ he says, watching his own fingers as they glide over your breasts with a glint in his eyes that you can’t quite describe. ‘So responsive and eager.’

‘It appears lust makes me bold,’ you whisper, more to yourself than to Jisung.

He laughs again and you smile at the sound. You like his laugh. Always have, but lately he has been doing it more often and it always makes you happy to hear it.

‘Well, since you’re feeling bold, is there anything on your mind you want to share with me right now?’ Jisung grins, tilting his head in a teasing way.

You think about it for a moment. A small part of you wants to ask him to do more than just touch just breasts and kiss you, but you’re not sure if you’re really that bold.

‘I want you to take off your shirt,’ you say instead, tugging at the fabric a little. ‘It’s only fair.’

Jisung doesn’t waste any time, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head. You’ve never seen him shirtless before and the sight of his bare muscled chest, his abs and the tattoos, nearly make you choke on your own spit.

‘Holy shit,’ you mutter, reaching out to touch him. ‘You’ve been hiding this all along Sungie?’

You knew he had broad shoulders and nice muscled arms, that much he showed often by wearing a tank top, but this is new. He’s nearly as ripped as Chan.

‘I’ve been working out a lot more recently,’ Jisung shrugs, a blush covering his cheeks.

‘I can tell,’ you laugh, your fingers gliding over his abs. ‘You look incredible.’

‘Says you,’ Jisung snorts, cupping your breast again. ‘I’d much rather focus on that.’

He puts his money where his mouth is and without any warning he leans forward and wraps his lips around your nipple. His warm tongue teases the hard and sensitive bud and when his teeth lightly graze over your nipple, you let out such a loud moan that it startles you.

‘Shhh or someone will come looking for us,’ Jisung chuckles, moving to your other breast.

‘It’s your fault!’ you say, but there’s no heat behind your words.

Jisung continues to kiss, lick and nibble your breasts until you’re once again shivering in his arms, your loud panting echoing through the bathroom. You arch your back, seeking more friction and your hips move on their own account then, grinding against his stomach.

‘Fuck,’ Jisung whisperes against your skin, his hands grabbing onto your hips to hold you still.

The door to the bathroom opens then and the both of you freeze.

You completely forgot that you’re in a public space where anyone can just walk in and see you naked from the waist up. Jisung seems to think the same and he presses his front against you so your modesty is somewhat intact.

A familiar chuckle fills the room. ‘I figured something like this was going on.’

Over Jisung’s shoulder you can see Chan leaning against the door with his arms crossed and a shit eating grin on his face.

‘Chan,’ you say, letting out a relieved sigh.

He pushes himself off the door with his shoulders and strides forward until his chest is almost touching Jisung’s back.

‘I see your lessons have continued,’ he smiles, bringing his hand up to brush his thumb over your swollen lips.

‘One you just interrupted, Hyung,’ Jisung mutters, looking over his shoulder to glare at Chan.

Chan just shrugs and steps back, leaning down to grab both of your shirts and your bra. ‘The others are getting ready to leave so I figured I’d find you guys.’

With burning cheeks of embarrassment you accept your clothes from his outstretched hands.

‘I’ll wait for you in the hallway,’ Chan winks, letting his eyes linger on your exposed skin for a moment before he turns around and leaves.

Jisung groans and hides his face in the crook of your neck, making you laugh. You gently rake your fingers through his hair and press a kiss against his temple.

‘Come on, we can continue this another time.’

‘Okay, okay,’ Jisung grumbles and he helps you off the counter before leaning in once more for a final kiss.

You quickly get dressed and turn around to look in the mirror. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips swollen, your hair is a mess and your eyes sparkle. You look like you’ve just been fucked and the thought makes your heart pound loudly in your chest. Maybe soon.

Chan is waiting for the two of you in the hallway, scrolling on his phone and he looks up when you walk towards him.

‘You okay?’ he asks, smiling sweetly at you.

‘Just a bit embarrassed you walked in on us, but other than that yes,’ you blush, fidgeting with the bracelets on your wrist.

Chan chuckles and Jisung kisses your cheek. ‘No need for that, baby.’

The three of you walk back towards the dance studio, chatting a bit about the upcoming plans you have for the next few days and whether or not you want to come back to their place to watch a movie tonight.

When Jisung suddenly stops walking, both you and Chan turn to look at him.

‘Uhm, before we meet up with the others, I have a question,’ he says. ‘It’s a bit of a personal question and I don’t know if you’ll be comfortable answering it in front of everyone.’

‘Okay, what is it?’ you ask, nervously biting your lip.

‘Uhm, so I noticed the way you reacted to some of my touches earlier and I wondered if you’ve ever orgasmed before?’

You blink at him a few times and his cheeks turn red.

‘Told you it was personal,’ he mutters. ‘You don’t have to answer.’

Chan takes a hold of your hand and squeezes. ‘Y/N?’

‘Well, uhm,’ you stammer and both of their eyes grow wide.

‘You have touched yourself, right?’ Chan asks carefully.

‘Of course,’ you blush, shuffling awkwardly on your feet. ‘I’m just not sure if I’ve ever come before.’

‘What do you mean you’re not sure?’ Jisung asks with a frown. ‘How can you not be sure?’

‘Jisung!’ Chan hisses, once again squeezing your hand. ‘It’s okay if you haven’t, you know.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Of course it’s okay and probably totally normal for a woman too, I’ve heard it can be difficult,’ Jisung takes a hold of your other hand.

You can’t believe you’re actually having this conversation with two of your best friends, but considering what they’ve been doing with you and what is still to come, it’s probably best that they know.

‘It is difficult. I mean, it feels good, but it always gets too much and I have to stop,’ you explain in a whisper. ‘I don’t think that feeling is actually an orgasm.’

‘Probably not, because trust me, you will know when you have one.’ Jisung says, winking at you.

Chan nods in agreement. ‘It’s very likely you haven’t.’

‘Oh,’ you breathe out, looking down at your hands in embarrassment.

‘Hey,’ Chan lifts your chin with his index finger. ‘That’s nothing to be ashamed about, love.’

‘Yeah, we’ll just have to fix it,’ Jisung grins, poking your side. ‘And trust me, we will.’

‘Oh we will,’ Chan agrees. ‘You’ll get that first orgasm and you’ll get it soon.’

Oh boy.

*******************************************

a/n: Thank you for all the love on this series and for your patience!! I hope you liked this chapter <3 Comments feed my soul and motivaton to write so please let me know your thoughts <3 >> part 5

taglist: @lunearta @danceonmyheyday @gigizzz @kaqua @haven-skies @livixcore @staylovesmiley @jaeminie-cricket @halfwinterhalfuniverse @jesuschrist2006 @staybabblingbaby @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @hanji-coffee @wolfhallows4 @sweatyracoon @symmieangela @hanniesbubuwife @astro3des @galaxy4489 @inlovewithstraykids @httpseungmxn @thebonsaibadass @stay-tiny-things @skzbiasot8 @darkwitchoferie @duwangdays @iknow-uknow-leeknow @yoongiismylove2018 @hyunjinsruinedpainting @steadysuitenthusiast @eastjonowhere @stay1ngsane @luvbangchan @stellmeiv @shycreationdreamland @hannie-and-binnie @deadpool15 @thillusionist @emmxxsworld @itza-meee @mel-onthemoon @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #ot8 x reader #han jisung x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz smut #chancloud8 writes #teach me part 4

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antinousletmehit · 4 months ago

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Paring: Telemachus x Fem!reader

Notes: FIRST PERSON ISNT STAYING, my friend wrote this part. “we love you Alana!!” The crowd cheers but anyways next chapter is reader with her brother antinous,

THIS IS PART ONE —-> https://www.tumblr.com/antinousletmehit/771362289992466432/pairing-telemachus-x-femreader-note-the-name

Update: part 3 is out! -> https://www.tumblr.com/antinousletmehit/771492309105868800/this-is-part-3

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

My footsteps pounded against the ground. Stupid y/n. Stupid, stupid y/n. She can never just keep her hands and mouth to herself. Y/n was almost as insufferable as her brother. Sometimes I couldn’t even figure out who was worse. Everything about her was so calculated and precise that it aggravated me. Every movement, every word, every glance. Her elegance could kill a man alone. Y/n constantly stands tall, her chiton gracefully wrapped around her athletic frame. Her tan skin that looked like it was kissed by Helios himself. Her wavy hair loosely tied up. Even the strands that fell out of it look completely planned. Her eyes that portrayed warmth and innocence. A complete fraud. Y/n looked like she should be one of the goddesses in the paintings that lined the walls of the palaces.

She’s infuriating.

My hands meet the heavy door of the library and it swings open with a creak. The smell of books and scrolls hits my nose. I can’t help but take a deep breath in. Silence. How relieving. The only sound that could be heard was the shuffle of my own feet. I made my way over to my favorite desk. It was marbled and stretched across the open window. When I sat down I would look at the Kingdom of Ithaca. My father’s kingdom. It felt solemn sitting here sometimes. I always wondered what he would be like. Would he sit next to me and tell me the stories of his battles? Would he tell me our history and about our family? Or would he tell me to “man up” and “stop being such a bitch” like Antinous does? Mother always told me it would be the first option. She always reminded me that my father was nothing like those awful suitors.

I settle down in my seat, shifting around to get comfortable. I run my fingers over the grainy scroll, feeling every crease and wrinkle. I unroll the scroll, carefully laying it out in front of me. The delicate handwriting was almost too much to read. I trace my fingers over it, so carefully as if it might disintegrate beneath my touch.

Athena

The Goddess of Wisdom, War, and Reason

Born out of Zeus’s forehead, which was completely disgusting but I would never say that out loud because it’s extremely disrespectful, she became known as the Goddess of Wisdom. Her goal in life is to create the greatest warrior. While her brother Ares, was the physical embodiment of war, Athena was focused on the mental state of war. Tactics and calculated attacks. My mother told me that Athena favours our family. Maybe one day Athena would turn me into the greatest warrior. Her warrior of the mind

She would teach me how to finally fight back against the suitors. Attack each and everyone one until 108 became 1. I would find Antinous in the large open corridor. Both of our swords drawn and gleaming. Y/n with her smug face, leaning against a pillar. Antinous would charge first, but I would dodge and you can hear metal against metal as our swords collide. He would pull away in shock. Of course, Antinous isn’t easy to kill so we would go back and forth for a while. He would give some smart remark and when he’s off guard, I thrust my sword into his abdomen and watch him stand there in shock.

As Antinous fell to the ground, I would slowly watch the smirk fall off of y/n’s face. I would pull the sword from his body as he slowly bled out. I’d point it towards Y/n.

“This is your warning.” I’d tell her. She’d get on a boat and I’d never see her obnoxiously gorgeous face ever again.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Telemachus wandered through the halls of the palace, occasionally spinning around as he walked. It had become one of the prince’s favorite habits. There wasn’t much to do. He investigated every nook and cranny of his home, while avoiding the suitors as much as he could. He roamed up the empty staircases draped with wool rugs. He was on his way to see his mother, Penelope. The queen of Ithaca. Penelope was one of the young prince’s only friends. Telemachus told his mother everything. Nothing was unshared between them. They were all the other had left.

The young prince reached one of the upper floors of the palaces. Telemachus glanced around, making sure that no one was around. Against the wall, was a statue of Athena with her sword and shield on top of a block of marble. The plaque read, “The Goddess Athena”. Telemachus slowly reached forward and pushed the plaque in, as if he was using it as a handle. With all his might, he pushed the statue to the side, revealing a dark hidden passageway.

These passageways were only known by Penelope and Telemachus themselves. They littered the inside walls of the palace. It was the only way they could see each other without being harassed by the suitors. Telemachus got onto his knees and crawled into the medium sized passageway. He slightly turned around and grabbed the handle of the statue, pulling it back into its place. The damp air immediately reached his nose and he couldn’t help but breathe it in. It had become oddly comforting. The boy ignored the torches lining the walls. He had roamed these tunnels so many times that he had them memorized.

He crawled through the passage, the rough stone against his knees starting to hurt. After about a minute, Telemachus reached the larger part of the passage. He finally pushed off of the ground and got onto his feet once again. He rubbed the rubble off of his tunic and sighed. The prince began walking and ran his fingers along the stone, the rough texture rubbing against his fingers.

When Telemachus reached his destination, he got onto his knees once again. There was a trap door, almost unnoticeable, but not to him. He gave the door a hard push and it opened with a creak. Telemachus crawled out and heard his favorite familiar voice.

“My son.”

The prince turned and saw his mother smiling at him. Penelope was sitting by her window, weaving in her favorite chair. It had always been her favorite habit. The only word to describe Penelope was royal. Her brunette hair was pulled up into a bun. She was wearing her usual white chiton. Her arms were adorned in her golden bracelets.

“Mother.” Telemachus smiled, taking his usual position on the floor next to Penelope. He usually sat there for hours, while his mother calmly weaved. Her presence always calmed him.

“Are the suitors giving you trouble?” She quietly said. Telemachus wishes it was just the suitors.

“Not exactly.” The prince sighed.

“Is it the girl? I believe her name was Y/n?” Penelope glances up at Telemachus and sees a slightly pouting expression on his face.

“Yeah..y/n.” He mumbled.

“What happened this time?”

The boy sighed once again, laying his head on his mother’s lap. Penelope’s fingers found the boy’s hair and she idly rummaged through the thick brown locks.

“All they do is humiliate me, Mother. Y/n has made it her life's mission to torment me no matter where I go. She calls me a woman.”

“And what did you say back to her?”

“Nothing.”

Telemachus could never find the confidence to say anything back. He just stood there. His pride being stripped out from underneath him was a whole new level of unsettledness he could barely describe, even to his mother.

“They’re trying to get under your skin,” Penelope’s voice rang out through the now quiet room, “You must not let them.”

Telemachus looked up at her, “But how?” His voice had a ring of hopelessness to it. All his mother did was smile at him.

Her hand gently found his chin and she tipped his head up to meet her eyes, “My son..keep your head high. You have a wonderful head on your shoulders..use it.”

A faint smile tugged at Telemachus’s lips as he looked at his mother. Penelope had such kind eyes. The golden flakes outside of her irises and her smile reached the creases of her eyes. She rested her hands on the apple of his cheeks, her fingers warm against his skin.

“Oh Telemachus..you look just like your father.”

Telemachus’s smile slightly faltered. He glanced over to his mother’s bed. The velvet canopy draped over the top of the luxurious king size bed. The cream colored sheets that laid upon the mattress. His mother’s side was disheveled. The pillow moved to the side from where she was most likely holding it. The sheets pushed aside due to her rustling in her sleep the night before. The prince’s sight then moved to the other side. The comforter was crisp and sharply folded. Not a wrinkle could be found. The pillow was perfectly straightened. As if it was waiting for Odyssesus to return.

Telemachus swallowed the lump in his throat as he glanced back at his mother. Penelope had the same teary eyed stare.

“He would be so proud of you.”

All the young prince could bring himself to do was nod. He wished his father was here. To give him advice and tell him what to do. To fight for him like all of the stories he had heard so many times that they were imprinted in his brain.

Penelope’s voice broke his train of thought, “Just like I, he would tell you to stand tall. To not let them get to you. They are trying to break you. Show them that they can’t.”

His mother’s words circled his thoughts. Show the suitors and Y/n that he was unbreakable. That he would defend his mother and honor. The boy’s head laid back upon his mother’s lap. He reached for her hand and he interlocked their fingers, his rough ones meeting her soft ones.

“I won’t disappoint you mother.”

#epic the musical #antinous #epic telemachus #telemachus #epic the musical x reader #telemachus x reader #antinous platonic #aphrodites gamble

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souliebird · 3 months ago

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[[and then I met you || ch. 30]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 2.5k

ao3 link

A breeze rolls down the streets of Hell’s Kitchen and you tug your sleeves up to cover your hands to try to fight off the chill it sends through you. To your right, Karen’s long hair whips around her shoulders and she does not at all seem bothered by it as she continues on with her story.

“So, we went back to the first bakery, and luckily, the lady there had seen it and took it behind the counter before anyone could snatch it up. Not that anyone would want a piece of shit flip phone, but still, having it floating around wouldn’t be the wisest thing.”

“Frank doesn’t seem like the forgetful type,” you comment, your lips turning down into a frown. The man who is the Punisher always seems so on top of everything whenever you see him, so the idea that he just left his phone on a table is very out of character to you.

Karen huffs, “Oh, he isn’t, but that is the danger of a concussion. You have to keep an eye out.”

You take the warning and mentally store it with a note to do a lot of research on the subject. You have already started a first-aid binder with step-by-step instructions for different types of injuries. You are going to have to have a full ‘chapter’ on concussions - it will match the one you’ve already done for minor stitches and wound cleaning. Soon enough, you are going to have a fully detailed guide and you will probably end up printing out copies for both Foggy and Karen as a just in case.

“I’m guessing having a helmet doesn’t help at all with that problem?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

The blonde gives you a side-eyed look before dryly replying, “he might as well be wearing the scarf.”

You shake your head fondly. So far, Matt hasn’t had any head injuries that you are aware of, but you’ve seen other bruises he’s gotten. Maybe his armor is in need of an upgrade.

“How did the rest of the day go?”

Karen just barely ducks her chin and this sweet, soft little smile forms on her face as stroll down the sidewalk, “it was really good. It was good to get out of the city, even just for a few hours. To pretend to be normal, you know? The market was nice - Max had a lot of fun. He got pretty spoiled in the treat department. Didn’t you, boy?”

You both look down to the dog walking at her heel. Realizing attention is now on him, he looks up with his big square head and gives a wide doggy smile, his tail starting to go back and forth. You laugh at his sweetness.

“I bet he did. He’s a good boy.”

Max is a very good boy - for your park trip today, Karen had joined you and Minnie had spent a good hour and a half playing with him. He had happily followed her all over the playground, going through tunnels and down slides until your daughter completely wore herself out. She passed out as soon as she had been secured into her stroller and now you and Karen were enjoying some Girl Time.

“Did you get spoiled?” you follow up, curious if Karen bought anything for herself at the vintage market. You know she is looking for some new furniture pieces after some were ‘destroyed’ and you want to live a bit vicariously through her purchases.

You don’t know if it was the tone of your voice or if her mind was elsewhere, but Karen says your name a bit scandalously before delving into giggles. Your cheeks heat up instantly and you start shaking your head.

“That isn’t what I meant!”

“Are you sure? Because I did get pretty Spoiled,” she teases, shimmying her shoulders for emphasis. You have to bite your lip, so you don’t burst into laughter. You haven’t had someone to just gossip and chat with in so long, but it is so easy to fall into a rhythm with Karen. She’s kind and has a good heart and you don’t need to hide anything from her - plus, she has so much boldness it counters your anxiety and meekness in such a good way.

You are starting to think she might actually end up being a real friend to you as opposed to just a friend of Matt’s.

“Or should I say, Frank did. Wait, look.”

You pause as she pulls out her phone and begins tapping at it. You idly rock the stroller as you wait and a few moments later, Karen is handing you her phone.

“Oh my God, Karen, you look at you!” you gasp as you almost unashamedly ogle the mirror selfie she is showing you. She is all dolled up to look like a vintage pin-up girl - her hair is curled and pinned, she’s got on bright red lipstick and has a sexy little cat eye, and she is in a set of deep blue lingerie complete with garters and sheer stockings. You can tell it was taken before her outing, as you can see the dress she wore laid out on the bed behind her. “You look hot as hell!”

“Thank you,” she preens as you return her phone. “Frank thought so as well.”

“Did you send him that?”

She laughs and shakes her head, “No, it was a surprise. But next time he’s out of town, I might send it as a little reminder to not use his head as a weapon.”

“That would be a good motivation,” you tell her as you begin walking again and you both fall into a fit of giggles. You can just imagine Karen sending the image off with a stern warning about being safe.

“Do you have any pictures of you in your dress?” Karen suddenly asks and you find yourself heating up again.

While you think you looked pretty in the dress Matt had bought you for your date, you looked nowhere near as stunning as Karen did for hers. You had been so nervous about meeting the dress code that you had gone the minimalist route and taking a mirror selfie hadn’t even crossed your mind - you had no one to show it off to anyways.

However, Minnie had insisted on taking a picture of you with Matt before you left for the night - a horror that reminded you of girls being ushered in front of doors for homecoming pictures. It wasn’t the most glamorous thing and Matt looked about a million times better than you. Nonetheless, you bring up the photo - shot from Minnie’s low point of view and at a Dutch angle - and hand over your phone.

Karen instantly cooes.

“You look stunning. Matt is going to want to frame this.”

“I doubt he remembers we took it,” you mumble out, “It was a little hectic trying to leave. Minnie was so excited.”

“Of course she was,” Karen says as she gives you back your phone. “It was your first date! Matt was so giddy on Friday; it was so cute. I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before.” You feel her give you a look over then her voice drops to something a bit softer, “We dated, for a minute, before everything started to go sideways. He was cool and charming and nothing like he is when he’s with you. I envy you for that.”

You stop mid step and look with wide eyes at her, shocked by the new information. You had no idea they had previously had a relationship and insecurity bubbles in your stomach.

“You dated..?”

Karen nods, then gently hooks her arm with yours and nudges you to continue walking.

“Just before the firm shut down - before Frank’s trial. It was...complicated. I didn’t know who he was, then. He was lying and hurting us - hurting me. He was focused on something else and once we started really getting the trial and…” she trails off, shaking her head. “Everything was a mess. He was a mess. We couldn’t trust him. I couldn’t trust him. I was in over my head with Frank’s case. Once that was over, and what he had going on was done, that was the end. It had nothing to do with the Devil and everything to do with him.”

Your heart sinks and a tightness gathers in your throat. You are well aware Matt has had problems in the past regarding his second life clashing with his personal one, but you didn’t think it involved dating his co-worker and friend. You can hear the emotion in Karen’s voice - the hurt and the resolved anger and pain - and you don’t want to be you in a few years.

You want to trust Matt.

Karen, as if sensing your discomfort, squeezes your arm. “That’s why I envy you. He’s trying so hard to be good enough - to not put you through what he did with us. I know there isn’t a storm surrounding us to make the boats rock right now, but when one comes, and there will always be a storm with this life, I don’t think he’s going to repeat his mistakes. Or I hope he won’t, because God knows I’ll shoot him myself if he does.”

The words dig into your soul and part of you wants to shatter over how wrong she is. She sounds so confident in her words, but you know they aren’t true.

“Karen, he’s being better for his daughter. He wants to be good for her. He wants to be a good father.”

Karen tsks out your name, “You don’t really believe that do you? He glows when he talks about you. He was practically walking on air yesterday telling us about your dinner. And you can’t tell me that That,” she gestures to the ruby hanging from your neck, “is anything less than a confession.”

Your hand darts up to wrap around the pendant as blood starts to pound in your ears. You remember exactly how you felt when he had given it to you.

You had felt special.

You had felt Wanted.

((“I love you.”))

((“I’m yours.”))

((“I love you.”))

You quickly shake your head, “you’re looking into it too much. He said he wanted to make up for the dates he missed, of course he made it grand. He wouldn’t…he wouldn’t, pardon the expression, look at me twice if it weren’t for Minnie.”

“Well, that certainly isn’t true, considering you wouldn’t have Minnie if he hadn’t ‘looked’ at you.”

You keep your eyes down, looking at the top of the stroller as you walk. Your desire to be wanted clashes with your self-doubt but you know you can’t let it win.

You can’t let yourself be hurt like Karen says she was hurt.

“It isn’t like that…” you whisper, and you feel Karen’s shoulders drop. She squeezes your arm again, but she doesn’t push the conversation. You walk in silence for the rest of the block, coming to a stop at a crosswalk, and you mentally tell yourself to get out of your head.

You’ve known the truth, and you’ve accepted it - there is no need for you to be gloomy.

Not when you are out having a nice time with a potential friend.

You force your gaze back up and focus it across the street, determined to come up with a new topic of discussion. As you wait for the light to change, you catch sight of a television in the window of the bodega on the corner.

Your lips dip into a scowl as Tony Stark sits at a roundtable, surrounded by people you have seen dominate the news lately, gesturing wildly while a ticker crawls across the bottom of the screen. You don’t need to be close enough to read it to know what it says - ‘the Enhanced debate’.

You absolutely hate all the fear mongering the news has been doing and the narrative the country has taken. It reminds you of so many horrible stories you heard about in history class, and you cannot believe the discussions being had.

But it is not hard for you to believe that people like Stark are advocating for there to be some sort of registry. He is at the top of the totem pole, and no one will come for him - and if they do, he can get out of it, as seen by his Committee Hearings years ago. You’ve heard his talking points about oversight and collateral damage and think it is all ridiculous.

It is all ‘regulations for thee and none for me’.

The light finally turns green, and you and Karen cross the street. As you pass the television, you glare at it, eyes going right to the Mayor of New York who is nodding along with Stark. You regret voting for him.

“I can’t believe they are proposing that shit,” Karen spits and you turn to see her looking just as angry as you feel. “Going after innocent people instead of the people who are actually dangerous. They just sit on their asses theorizing about potential destruction while real people are being hurt. They could go after drugs or guns or the predatory policies on housing, but no, that hurts their bottom line. They’d rather talk about gathering the DNA of newborns to test.”

Your stomach turns at the thought of a doctor taking Minnie’s blood and running it through one of Stark’s proposed machines. You know she has abilities, but would her DNA show her as an Enhanced? Would Matt’s?

You know it is all beyond unethical - but when has the government ever cared about ethics? Everyone knows very well now, thanks to the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., that the everyday person is being watched to the nth degree. None of them have any problem looking into your phones or emails - why would they care about looking at your blood.

It is all about threat detection to them.

You bite your lip before admitting, “I’m more worried about what happens after they do the testing.” You tighten your grip on the stroller and drop your voice. “What if they try to take Minnie away?”

The words don’t even finish leaving your lips before Karen is giving you a hard look, with equally hard words, “Matt would never allow that. You would never allow that. Me and Foggy wouldn’t allow that, and Frank certainly would not allow it. You know we would fight it tooth and nail in court and out of it. No one is coming near you or your daughter.”

You look back to the faces of the men who are trying to destroy your small world and wonder if the Devil really could take them all on.

You pray to God you will never have to find out.

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @astridstark13 @hashcakes

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #and then i met you #daredevil #matt murdock x you

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somehowukook · 2 months ago

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(On going) Jungkook fics that totally worth the wait. PT. 2. *:･ﾟ✧

I decided to share some ongoing FFs that I’m completely obsessed with. This is the second part.

Minors under no circumstances can interact with my posts.

Hey guys, 💞

Now I’m back with fic recommendations that are absolutely worth following in real-time.

Also, I’m planning to release a teaser of my own fanfic next week, and this is a way for us to get to know each other better until then!

Without further ado…

Let’s go!

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Dextrocardia by @jeonstudios

cop!jk x f detective!reader, undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, [a] [f] [s]

“She’s been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you’ll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this.”

“What?!” It’s Jeongguk’s upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

One of the best plots, one of the best themes, and one of the best reading experiences I’ve ever had. Smart, essential, and full of layers—that’s the tone of this story. There was one chapter where I just couldn’t stop pacing back and forth around the house while reading. Dextrocardia is nearing its end, and I’m going to miss it so much! @jeonstudios is one of my favorite authors and has already written stories that rank in my all-time top favorites. It’s worth reading EVERYTHING! Her Patreon is worth every cent!

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Bad Decisions by @alphabetboyluver

Smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds)

It’s simple: write your deepest, darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on Jungkook’s ceiling. When they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap Daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. Set it free.

The issue? You have a fear of intimacy.

Jungkook, a fear of rejection.

And you both have the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions.

I LOVE BD. I LOVE HOW THIS JK THINKS HE’LL DIE IF HIS CARNAL DESIRES AREN’T MET. He is the personification of my perfect man—everything he does is incredible, and I swear, I can’t even explain how BD is worth it. I LOVE HOW THE OC IS SO HEADSTRONG AND HOW I LEARNED SO MUCH ABOUT SELF-LOVE FROM HER. Look, I discovered Holly’s writing through Throttle (complete and incredible), and I was instantly enchanted by her work. Honestly, if I had money, I’d open a publishing house just to sponsor and publish her books. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out!

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死 KKANGPAE by @jungkoode

enemies to lovers, slow burn, gang au, angst with smut, fuck buddies, forbidden love, secret relationship

When you join Kkangpae’s Seduction Division, you know the rules: no attachments, no relationships, no exceptions. The consequences are fatal—you’ve seen them firsthand. But rules become complicated when the Chief of Tactical Assassinations keeps looking at you like you’re his next target, and not the kind he takes out with a sniper rifle.

Alright, I’ve already made it clear in my first fic recommendation list that Kiki is brilliant, and you probably know it by now… Besides writing and creating incredible universes and deeply layered characters with impeccable psycho-behavioral construction, she’s also an amazing and kind person—and her fanarts, help!But enough about her, or I’ll never finish… Now let’s talk about this MASTERPIECE that is KKangpae! I am completely WEAK for Jeon, and this OC? Oh God, this woman can break me, and I’d still say thank you! This slow burn (Kiki’s specialty) is so sensual, so good, and so nerve-wracking that it makes you roll on the floor in a fetal position after every episode. Just read it.

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Stuck with you by @focusonkayjay

Computer sci major/shy/nerdy!Jungkook, econ major/popular/influencer!reader, college au, roommates au, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

Jungkook’s a hopeless romantic—emphasis on hopeless more than romantic. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he swore he heard bells chiming, like the angels from above were giving him a cosmic nudge. But he’s always been the awkward, nerdy guy—the one who blends into the background—while you? You felt like a dream way out of his league. Fate, however, had other plans and now, you’re his roommate and living with you—in all your effortless glory—is equal parts chaos and heaven. The only challenge? Keeping his ever-growing feelings in check. That is—until a cocky fuckboy with not-so-pure intentions sets his sights on you, and suddenly, just loving you from the sidelines might not be enough.

I found Chers page through one of my favorite fics, Between the Ride and the Roses(which I think you should read). Since then, I’ve been following her work, and this latest release—seriously, I was so happy I read the first episode before making this recommendation list because it’s TOTALLY worth it! This socially awkward JK, with the purest heart in the world (and some self-esteem issues), will win you over in the very first description, and I just hope this precious soul doesn’t get hurt because, honestly, I’d destroy the whole world if anything bad happens to him. Seriously, he is so precious. MY SHAYLA

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Server Room by @mister0ctopus

Smut (X), Office au, Mini Series

Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

How do I say this without sounding crude? Well, I hope you don’t think I’m crazy, but the server room scene is 🔥🔥🔥🔥, and it left me wondering for wayyy too long —what if it were me???? Well, I probably wouldn’t survive this JK doing THAT while moaning my name.

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Not Ideal by @koojks

Grumpy jk, slight angst and eventual smut. SMAU + Written

Jeon Jungkook has made one thing clear: he has no interest in working with you. He barely tolerates you in the friend group as it is. But with a project on the line, avoiding each other is no longer an option.

Through a Tumblr interest recommendation, I discovered Via and got completely hooked on Not Ideal. I’m OBSESSED—I need to know why this JK is so closed off, why he keeps picking on our OC, what he does when he goes out, what he eats, why he acts so nonchalant about everything??? Baby, I need to know!!!!!

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Hope you like it! And please, let’s keep in touch—I LOVE chatting with you!

#fanfic #fanfiction #jungkook fic recs #jungkook fics #jungkook recs #jungkook romance #bts fanfiction #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fiction #bts fics #bts army #jeon jungkoooook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #fanfics

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trippinsorrows · 2 months ago

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dreamland: the school projects

authors note: yes, it's really my ass again. promise this is the last one. next thing i update will be the ltye chapter sometime over the weekend.

let's pretend target aint' problematic in this world.

warnings: roman's blood pressure being in the danger zone.

words: 4.6k

Roman always misses his wife when she's out of town. For obvious reasons, and some not so obvious. The biggest one though is that having two parents to manage six children, all who happen to still be in single digits, is always better than one. Especially when one is lucky enough to have a partner like Sol.

She's so good and graceful at handling all the things.

Like school projects.

Especially those. His wife is as creative as she is beautiful. Always able to help the kids when they get sent home with those annoying ass projects he has zero patience for. It's already hard enough for him to manage coloring with those small ass crayons when his set of creative kids ask him to sit down and do art with them. Anything beyond that is grounds for referral.

Except that's not an option.

It's not an option, because his wife isn't here. Out of town for a leadership conference for female business owners. A good thing for her. He's forever proud of all she's accomplished.

But, that leaves him on his own with their six children. Soon to be four, because Roman is having a hard ass time processing what his two oldest are trying to tell him.

"What you mean ya'll both have a project due?" Roman had just finished getting his twin boys, Koa and Kai, down for bed. Not nearly as difficult as it was for the older ones, but still something that took a good half hour. Now he's got the terror non-twins in front of him hitting him with something unexpected. "When are they due?"

"Tomorrow," Lina answers it so easily and casually, completely either oblivious or uncaring of the way her daddy's eyes widen.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yup," Tama nods, the two of them sharing a little laugh. Over what, he has no idea. These two are always in cahoots over something, and he can't be bothered with that right now, because he's too busy trying not to freak out on them.

Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. "So, ya'll really both knew you had these projects due yet decided to wait until—" He looks at the expensive watch on his wrist. "Almost 6pm to tell me about them?"

Lina nods so nonchalantly.

Roman has to bite back a smart ass response. Then it hits him. "Wait, does that mean Leya has one, too?"

Lina shakes her head. "Sissy did hers two weeks ago."

So, why the hell ya'll ain't do yours then, too? A question he keeps to himself, because he already knows the answer. Leya inherited all of Solana's creativity. She loves school projects. Of course she completed her early. Not to mention, Sol loves helping her, all the kids, really, with them.

It's a love Roman, unfortunately, does not share.

But, something he's gonna have to stomach cause these damn kids have pulled one over on him yet again.

Roman shakes his head. "Alright, well let's get started. What are the requ—what?" He stops himself, detecting the unspoken expression in their faces.

Lina pokes out her mouth, rocking back and forth on her heels, hands behind her back. "We don't have the supplies."

Tama adds. "Yeah, we gotta go to Target."

"Target?" It just keeps getting worse. "What do you mean we don't have the supplies?" Roman gestures to the space around them. "All these art rooms I built for your mom, and we don't have everything ya'll need already?"

In synchronization, Tama and Lina nod. Roman has to close his eyes and count backwards from ten.

Of course.

"Go tell Leya to throw something on," he instructs his two oldest, both quickly running away and up the stairs to inform their sister of this unexpected outing. Roman pulls out his phone, alerting security that he has to run out and someone needs to watch Koa and Kai's nursery. No way in hell he's waking and dragging them out the house. Not when he just got them down for bed.

Receiving a response, Roman moves up the steps to head to Samaria's room to get her ready as well.

He's gonna need a drink after all this.

Or several.

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"Alright, look," he starts off, looking back at his kids, all four wearing various expressions. Lina and Tama look excited as hell, Samaria is in her own world, lowly singing some random song, and Leya—sweet, sweet Leya—is the only one clearly paying attention. "When we get in this store, I don't want ya'll asking for nothing." Roman literally had several packages delivered just this afternoon of the latest toys, dolls, and obstacle course themed things. He means it when he says he's not buying them anything. "We're here for supplies for these projects. Okay?" Leya nods, signifying her understanding. The other three kids remain unfocused and uninterested.

Aria has a bit of an attitude with him—tapping into her inner Lina—because he wouldn't let her take her "cart" with her. AKA the kids Target cart she got a few weeks ago that Solana always lets her bring when they go out shopping.

He just had to remind her that that's mommy's thing. Not daddy's thing.

Not that she cares, of course.

Getting all four out of their car seats takes a good almost twenty minutes. Naturally, Lina and Tama are ready to run in the store, Roman instructing Zilla to keep an eye on and tag them. Leya, unsurprisingly, doesn't need to be prompted. She naturally takes Roman's hand, staying close to him. Samaria is a little more difficult, easily trying to dart off the minute they walk into the store.

That's another thing.

Roman had an idea that maybe if the store wasn't cleared out, the kids would be less likely to want to roam.

Wrong idea.

Zilla is following Lina and Tama who have said fuck the supplies, instead heading to the sports section. Samaria, after being placed in the cart by Roman, is pointing and asking him to take her down damn near every aisle. It's literally only Leya—his now favorite child, who stays close to him the entire time. When he can't hold her hand, because he's placing shit in the cart, she's holding onto his shirt or shorts.

Both for her comfort and because out of all the kids, she's always been the most obedient. When they say to do something, Leya always does it. The exception being when her OCD interferes.

"Daddy, look!" Roman was in the midst of trying to look over the needed supplies from each Lina and Tama's project directions when Samaria is tugging on his sleeve. He looks over to see her pointing to some kids makeup set.

He shakes his head. "Aria, daddy just got you one of those last week." And not cause he wanted to. At five, his little girl is way into that beauty shit much earlier than he'd like to see.

"Not that one!" She whines, wiggling, wanting to get out of the cart.

"Aria—"

"I wanna see it!" She shouts, crossing her arms and pouting.

Any other time, Roman would nip that attitude in the bud. She definitely takes after Lina with her stubbornness sometimes. But, right now, he's gotta pick and choose his battles.

Begrudgingly, Roman lifts her out and watches her run over to the end cap where she grabs two kits, dashes back over and tries to place them in the cart, but she's too little, her arms too short to reach.

He sighs and obliges, opening his mouth to stop her as she runs back and starts looking down the aisle.

Roman closes his eyes.

I love my kids.

His internal mantra and reminder is repeated as he and Leya walk down the aisle, the father of six tossing and placing item after item into the cart. All courtesy of Samaria who talks and explains the whole time why she "needs" all this stuff.

She needs nothing. None of his kids do. Except these damn school supplies for this stupid ass project.

"Alright, that's enough, Samaria." Roman has to finally put his foot down. The cart is damn near full of unnecessary shit, and the more time they spend in this store, the less time he has to help the kids complete their projects. And that doesn't even include getting the rest of them down for bed.

Another daunting task in and of itself.

Samaria pouts once more, whining out an, "okay."

Roman gathers the papers again, ready to start moving down the list. He's decided that Lina and Tama still being gone somewhere in the store is something he refuses to think about. Because, he just knows they've got a cart filled.

Just knows it.

But, then he sees it out the corner of his eye. Sees the way Leya is looking over at something on the shelf. Some type of art kit. She says nothing, nor does she indicate any type of plans to grab it. Much unlike her younger sister.

It brings a small smile on his face. That's his Leya. Never the type to really ask for anything. Always content.

Roman bends down, gesturing to the kit. "You can get it."

Leya turns to him with surprise in her pretty eyes. Her smile is small and cautious. She points to it with an unspoken but evident question.

Really?

Roman chuckles and kisses her forehead. "Go ahead."

Her smile grows instantly as she walks over, grabbing the kit and bringing it back over, placing it in the cart. Seconds later, she's back by his side, but this time pointing at the papers in hand.

"These?" She nods. Roman hands them to her as she looks them over, tugging on his shirt, indicating her desire for her to follow him. Roman calls for Samaria to come walk with them, taking her hand in his, the other navigating the cart.

Wordlessly, Roman follows his eight-year-old as she quietly guides them down an aisle and starts placing items in the cart.It's obvious by the way she looks between the papers before grabbing said items, that she's not shopping for herself like her siblings. She's getting the supplies needed for the projects. Handling that task for him.

It keeps a small smile on his face.

Of all the kids, she's definitely the most like Solana.

Selfless.

"Would you look at that, John?" A new voice enters the scene, somewhat sounding out the sound of Samaria, who's singing quietly, again, while also picking up more unnecessary stuff for herself.

Typical.

A glance over allows Roman to see a Caucasian, elderly couple, a man and a woman, watching as his girls shop. It instantly makes him scowl.

People.

He's fully prepared to ignore them when the woman speaks again. "What sweet girls helping out their dad." At that, he has no protests there. Never mind the fact Leya is the only one trying to help him. Samaria is helping herself and her ever growing collection of toys.

Much to his chagrin, the 176 year-old woman walks over to him, hand over her chest. "I truly commend you single fathers." Roman scowls. The fuck? "I know it can't be easy raising two young girls all on your own."

Roman has to stop himself from snapping and cussing them out. Solana has been on him lately about his language in front of the kids. Something about her being tired of Lina and Tama getting sent home with notes about cussing at their classmates.

Not that he sees a big issue. They shouldn't be messing with his kids in the first damn place.

"Lady, I'm not a single father." And, he certainly has more than two kids. Way more. "Their mom is coming back."

"And, you keep believing that, son." The older man speaks up, fist raised in some sort of sign of determination and solidarity. "Keep hope alive that she'll come to her senses, find her way home, and come back to these sweet little angels."

At that point, Samaria comes over, wearing some wig—where the fuck did she get that from?—with a great big smile. "I am an angel!" She starts spinning around, holding her dress, singing.

Again.

It clearly moves this old ass couple who look at her in awe.

Meanwhile, Roman is trying not to lose his damn mind.

"Come on, ya'll," Roman mutters, managing to steer his kids away without having to acknowledge or curse out the nursing home escapees. Except, one stressor is traded for another.

"What the hell is all this?" Roman asks, face to face with Zilla who's pushing one full ass cart along with Lina and Tama who are pushing yet another full ass cart. Toys, basketballs, snacks, sports shits, and other randoms practically overflowing.

He looks over at his younger cousin who simply shrugs. "They also scheduled a play date, too," Zilla informs.

"Her name is Mrs. Jade, and she's really nice," Lina shares, starting to explain. "She has two kids."

"Josiah and Marcus," Tama finishes. "It's next Saturday at 2pm."

"What have I told ya'll about talking to people you don't know?" Roman scolds. For the life of him, he'll never understand how he and Solana made all these goddamn extroverted ass kids.

Lina shrugs. "We know them now."

Roman, once again, has to count to ten.

Or, 100.

In the meantime, Lina and Tama rush over to Leya, asking what she got. At which point, Leya points to the single item she selected. This, of course, is not acceptable to Lina.

"You need more stuff, sissy," she informs, taking her by the hand. The two of them, joined by Tama, head down a nearby aisle of toys. Goddamn, it feels like Roman can't escape the shit.

"Wait for me!" Samaria calls after them, running behind her big siblings.

"Watch them," Roman orders. Zilla nods. The Tribal Chief then turns on his heel, searching for a completely different kind of aisle. He suddenly has a new, unexpected item added to his list.

It's relatively easy to find, though a blast from the fucking past.

Years.

It's been years since he's had to shop for this.

Something he never ever expected to have to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Roman easily peruses the options, most of which have never worked for him, finally landing on it. The only one that did work. Grabbing the black and gold box, he's partially surprised the design hasn't changed in all the time that's passed since he was last in the market.

He reads the box just to make sure he's grabbed the right one.

Trojan

Magnum XL

Value Size

The right one, for sure.

It takes a second for it to set in. Roman swore up and down he'd never use protection with his wife. Never wanted to. The pleasure of fucking her raw has always been too good to not experience. But between his being fertile as hell, her also clearly being fertile as hell, the six kids they already have, along with her not wanting to get on birth control, he feels like he has no other choice.

They cannot risk anymore kids. Roman loves her. Loves his children. Loves his family, but it's too much. They have more than enough on their plate. With him being a few years shy of 50 and Solana a couple years away from 40, it would be irresponsible as hell for him to bring anymore children into the world. Not to mention, he's not sure he can handle another Lina or Tama.

Grip on the box tightening just a bit, he nods to himself.

He'll just have to talk and lay it all out for Solana when she gets home.

Surely, she'll understand.

Roman turns to leave and then considers something. Considers how sexually active he and his wife are.

He grabs another box.

And then an extra one.

For….reasons.

Roman finds Zilla and his brood of children along with three full ass baskets, Lina informing proudly, "we're ready to checkout, daddy."

Yes, they sure fucking are.

Tama, however, would be the one to notice the boxes Roman is trying his best to keep discreet. "Hey dad, what's that?"

"Nothing," Roman dismisses, working to keep his voice calm and nonchalant. "Adult stuff."

"So, it's for old people?"

Zilla covers his mouth to hide his snort.

"Come on," Roman ignores his smart mouth having ass son as the group heads over to the registers, choosing the one that has only one person in line ahead of them. The kids play and talk among themselves, not including Samaria still singing, when Roman catches out the corner of his eye a man to the right of him waiting to check out as well.

He lifts his sunglasses, looking between the items in Roman's hands and his rambunctious four children. "I think it might be a lil' too late for that, my brother."

Zilla is unable to hold in his laughter this time. Roman shoots both the man and his cousin a glare. "Hey. He said it. Not me."

"Shut up," Roman mutters, grateful when it's their turn to be rung up.

"Hi!" The cashier, a young girl in her twenties flashes him a big, annoying ass smile. Why the fuck is she so damn happy? "Did you find everything alright?"

"We did!" Samaria answers. The woman leans over to see his youngest little girl beaming up just as much, placing two candy bars on the conveyor belt. When the hell did she grab that?

"Well, that is just awesome," the girl replies in a sing-song voice, further irking the already irritated man.

"Here." He tries to subtly hand her the three value sized boxes of condoms. "Ring these up now and place em' in a separate bag."

Her eyes widen slightly as she reads one of the boxes, a blush forming on her cheeks. "Of course."

Roman rolls his eyes, warning Tama and Lina to stay close. He can see them eyeing some people he knows they'd just love to go talk to.

"Are you interested in joining our Target Circle program?" The woman asks, Roman picking up Samaria to keep her from grabbing anymore candy.

"No," he answers, watching the subtotal continue to go up and up.

"Are you sure?" She presses, continuing to ring up the items. "We have several card options. Each bound to meet at least one of your Target shopping ne—"

"Lady," he interrupts, the tight grip on his anger loosening with each annoying word that leaves her annoying big ass mouth. "I don't wanna join your damn program. I want you to ring my shit up, so I can get the hell out of here, okay?"

Around him, various responses. Samaria, in his arms, gasps. "Daddy," she says it just in that Solana scolding type of voice. "That was mean."

Leya remains silent, but her twin and partner in crime are snickering away. Tama laughing, "daddy said shit."

"Ya'll stop that cussing," Roman scolds. Grateful the cashier got the hint, she says nothing else until it's time to share the total.

$7,846.53

Roman manages to pull out his wallet and black card, inserting it inside the chip reader, all while still holding a now yawning Samaria. At almost 7:30pm, it's past her bedtime.

Snatching the receipt from Blondie, Roman and the group are heading to the car, Zilla loading up the two SUV's as Roman works to strap all the kids in their car seats.

Lina suddenly yawns as he works to secure Samaria. "Daddy, can we get ice cream?"

Roman's eyes nearly bulge out his head.

"No, we are not getting ice cream." He shoots that down real fast, laying out the game plan. "We are going home, I'm gonna put your little sister to bed, we're going to get these projects done, and then all of ya'll are going to sleep."

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

After letting the kids ice cream digest, Roman sort of sticks to his plan, putting Samaria to sleep and starting to help Lina and Tama with their projects now that they have all the necessary supplies.

And more.

But, that's neither here nor there.

Except, once again, Roman is reminded how non-creative he is.

And so are his two oldest children.

It's a combination of frustration, exhaustion, and more that has The Tribal Chief just about ready to call it a night, accepting he'll just keep them home from school tomorrow.

And then, a savior.

A sweet, sweet angel in the form of an eight year old-girl.

Leya.

His saint of a daughter arrives, practically taking over for all three of them. She works silently and efficiently, pointing and gesturing to certain items when she needs help, something she needs very little of.

It's like watching Solana do her magic, the way his little girl transforms nothing into something.

And not even an hour later, both projects are complete, courtesy almost entirely of Miss Cataleya Reigns.

Why couldn't all his kids be like her?

Roman doesn't need to direct Tama and Lina to thank their sister. One thing about them all, they love and support each other. He and Solana never have to do anything to encourage that.

Unfortunately, it's not until almost 10:30 when he gets the remaining kids in bed, Roman plopping down on the sofa and releasing a deep breath from one of the most stressful days he's had in a while.

He'd love nothing more than to jump in bed, but he has to have his nightly call with his wife to see how she's doing. Along with letting her know how things have been on his end.

Something he both is and is not looking forward to.

Except when Roman pulls out his phone to call his wife, he hears something.

Turning to his right, he's met with none other than Leya. She's still in her pajamas, pink, silk bonnet on her head, her favorite stuffy in her hand.

He sits forward, frowning, "what's wrong, baby?"

He has a guess, already knowing her anxiety and OCD tend to get triggered at night when one of her parents is out of town. Except, she usually comes and finds him when he's already in bed.

Not this soon.

She says nothing, instead walking over and placing her little arms around him for a hug.

Instantly, a massive wave of relief washes over him. There's something about being hugged by all his kids, especially his girls. But, Leya's hugs always hit and feel deeper.

And that feeling only intensifies when she says in her cute, soft, little voice, "you're the best daddy ever."

Roman's eyes shut, his heart filled with all the wonderful things and emotions that come from fatherhood. From knowing how, despite his massive concerns about such thing, his hard work has paid off.

He's managed to have the relationship with his kids he never thought possible but is clearly a reality given the powerful words just spoken.

"Thank you, sweetie." Roman kisses her temple. "I love you, Cataleya."

She hugs him a little tighter. "I love you, too, daddy."

Words he'll never tire of hearing. Ever.

Roman pulls back, gently tapping her cheek. "Hey, how about you come lay down with daddy now?" It makes all the sense. He knows before the morning arrives, at least two of his children will end up in his bed. The kids all like to sleep with whatever parent is home when the other is out of town.

He's just fast forwarding.

Leya's eyes light up as she nods and smiles happily.

Roman chuckles, standing up while still holding her. "Come on."

He leads her upstairs, keeping from her the fact she'll probably get to see and speak to Solana with him. Another surprise of sorts.

Roman's kids may be a lot at times, as are most children, but they're his.

His family.

His legacy.

And, he wouldn't have it any other way.

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

Less than a week later, Solana is back home, where she belongs, and where Roman needs her most.

After a day of the kids hovering around their mother, as expected given her absence, later that evening, Roman finally has his wife to himself.

Laying in between her legs, he laments while she plays in his hair, massaging his scalp and providing the sort of release only she can gift him.

"And then," he starts, transitioning to yet another stressful tale from while she was gone. It's always a bit funny to her how dramatic her husband can be. "Lina and Tama…I swear those two are going to send me to an early grave."

Solana rolls her eyes, small smile on her face. "I now they're a lot at times."

"At times?" His eyes dart up to her, filled with nothing but disbelief. "Baby, it's always something with them two. They don't know how to stay seated for more than five minutes, and they can never just listen. Stubborn asses."

Solana snorts. "I wonder where they get that from."

He mutters, "must be from your side of the family."

At that, she has to stop and look at him again. Solana loves this man with everything in her, but it never ceases to amaze her how blind he can be when it comes to their kids. She knows Tama and Lina are a handful at times, spitfires on their own, a tsunami together, but they're every bit of their dad. Same temper. Same determination. Same scowl, even.

Roman is just dealing with himself in the form of an eight year-old little girl and a seven year-old little boy. Not that he can see that.

No, not at all.

"Well…" Solana trails off, leaning over, running her hands down his chest. "Hint of advice for next time, babe?" Roman looks at her. "Let Aria take her cart. Once it's filled, that's it in her mind. She doesn't think to ask to put anything else in the big cart. Keep Lina with Leya, and Tama with you. Leya serves as a buffer between the two."

Roman looks like his whole life has just been turned upside down. He sits up, continuing to look at Solana with disbelief. "Baby, you ain't think to tell me that shit before?" Solana giggles, rolling her eyes once more. "All that damn stress for nothing."

Solana presses her lips together and strokes his beard. "I'm sorry, mi amor." Voice dropping, she sits up, moving closer to him on the bed. "Why don't you let me make it up to you?" Solana shifts once more so she's straddling her husband. Her hands massaging his big, broad shoulders. She drops her mouth to his ear, kissing the shell, whispering. "Let mami take care of papi."

Lightly grinding on top of him, she's unsurprised to feel the growing erection pressing against her.

Smiling, she starts kissing him, his hands moving under her big shirt, going and lifting it over her head. The removal leaves her in just her blank thong. Nothing else.

An unhealthy amount of lust fills and dances in Roman's warm irises, prompting her to reach for the waistband of his sweats.

Kissing on his neck while doing so, she's caught off guard when he grabs her by her wrists.

Confused as all outdoors, she expresses as such, "what's wrong?"

Roman just looks at her. This beautiful goddess of a woman practically naked before him. The mother of his children. His wife. The love of his life. He's missed the fuck out of her.

And, he's especially missed fucking her.

He won't deny himself this.

Not tonight.

"Nothing," he dismisses, hiking her up on his waist. They can have the condom talk some other time. Right now, he wants one thing and one thing only. Solana lowers her lips to his, her hair hanging and fanning their faces. He smirks, murmuring with a light slap to her ass. "Show papi how much you missed him."

#roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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ladykailitha · 3 months ago

Text

The Au Pair Boy Part 11

Hello! And welcome back. You'll be happy to note that this story is now marked complete. It will have a total of 15 chapters that will be released here every Thursday! So I hope you enjoy the ride.

In this we have Steve adjusting to Eddie being home and Hopper runs afoul a creature.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Steve was adjusting to life with Eddie with some difficulty. Since Eddie did most of his work from home, Steve would turn a corner to do the laundry and be surprised to see someone else in the house.

“You had Chrissy and Wayne here for two weeks each,” Eddie huffed with a amusement the third time it happened. “How are you still surprised to see me?”

Steve’s face turned bright red with embarrassment. “I don’t know. I’d guess that it was because they tended to stay to the guest wing part of this massive house and you don’t.” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not that you have to or anything! Just an observation. I’ll get used to it! I promise!”

Eddie chuckled. “I’m not going to lie, having you here sometimes startles me too. I spent nearly a year with just me and the girls and now the house is teeming with people and it’s a bit of a shock to the system.”

“Oh!” Steve cried. “Yeah, I guess it would be. Do you like it better with people or without?”

Eddie smiled that sweet fond smile that melted Steve’s insides every time. But they were extra melty because that was the first time Steve had seen it aimed at him and he felt warm all over.

“Oh it’s definitely better with people,” he murmured. “Especially knowing that you hand picked everyone and would have never picked someone you didn’t trust. You also somehow managed to make the D&D room something other than a shrine to my past. People play in there now. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Steve blushed, ducking his head. “You’re welcome. I just did what you asked me to do, to find people I could work with and that’s what I did. I’m just glad it all worked out for you.”

Just then the girls came barreling through the hall like a herd of elephants.

Eddie and Steve shared a glance and then Steve dropped the laundry basket and they both took off after the girls. They chased them through the house until they were cornered in the kitchen.

“Joanie,” Eddie said darkly, “Janie, you were supposed to be napping.”

Both girls looked at each other then at Eddie and Steve who both had their hands on their hips and crumpled. Joan started with the water works first and then Janice.

Eddie and Steve shared an exasperated glance and eye roll, then Eddie picked up Joan and Steve picked up Janice.

“See how tired you are?” Steve murmured as he rocked Janice back and forth. “You’re crying because you need sleep but you’re fighting it.”

“Come on,” Eddie said gently. “I’ll read you a story for your nap so that you can go to sleep. But just this once. This is what Steve is here for. To take care of you while Daddy works, okay?”

Both girls nodded. But in the end Eddie hadn’t needed to read a story to them because halfway up the stairs, Joan fell asleep and at the top, Janice followed suit. Steve and Eddie carefully tucked them into bed, stuff animals piled up around them as fierce guardians. Eddie slipped out first and then Steve, turning the light off behind him.

As Eddie and Steve walked down the stairs trying to be as quiet as possible, they only were able to breathe once they had reached the bottom.

“I’d put them in their own rooms,” Eddie said with an exasperated huff, “if I didn’t know that they would be sneaking into each others rooms anyway.”

Steve licked his upper lip, nodding, “Oh yeah. But they’re also getting to the point where they’re starting to form their own thoughts and opinions and realizing that they don’t match up to their twin.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Steve said, sighing. “Oh, I wanted to let you know that Dustin called, they’re moving the game to Saturday from their usual Thursdays, Lucas is trying out for the basketball team and they’re all going out to support him.”

“I’ll be sure to let the guys know,” Eddie said. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re partying or going out drinking on the weekend anymore.”

“God,” Steve said shaking his head. “I remember my frat boys days and it is not something I care to repeat.”

“When did you go to school?” Eddie asked, “I thought it was the circus and nannying?”

“There was about two years where I decided to get an associate’s degree in early child development,” Steve said with a shrug, “and applying at my dad’s former fraternity helped pay for the education.”

“Wow.”

He shook his head. “I was also nannying for a couple where they only needed me on the week days to make sure someone was home and the kid fed before they got off work.”

“Was that the weird taxidermists?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“That would be them,” Steve replied with his own answering grin. “It got me through college and gave me free weekends to blow my liver out.”

“God,” Eddie said, flopping on the sofa, “I remember those days. Before I met and married Ethan.”

“How did you two meet?” Steve asked, sitting next to Eddie.

“Some award show,” Eddie said, rubbing his eyebrow. “Not the Grammy’s, I’d remember that. Teen Choice Awards or the VMAs. Something like that where it was a mix of models, movie stars, and musicians. And he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. He had sea green eyes, coal black hair and a single dimple in his left cheek. I wanted. And the bastard made me chase him. And I did. I think that should have been my first sign he didn’t care for me like I did for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said scooting closer to him. He took his hand into his and rubbed his thumb back and forth. “I’m sure there were too many signs to count but because he played happy to the hilt you believed it, because you were happy.”

Eddie scoffed. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience there. Any skeletons in the closet you keep your exes?”

“Loads,” Steve said with a snort. “I don’t date much because usually I’m up to my eyeballs in kiddos, but there have been some absolute chunkers of walking red flags in there. Men and women both. They all seemed to wander in search of other people some times breaking up with me first, but not always. But the unending refrain of why never changed. I was too much... of everything I guess.”

Eddie covered Steve’s hand with his other hand. “I don’t think there is anything you could do that would make me think that of you.”

Steve smiled back. “That’s kind of you.”

The back door bang open and there was a lot of swearing, forcing the two men to jump out of their skins, but somehow not apart.

“Those God damned critters!” Hopper cursed. “When I get my hands on them, I’ll skin them alive!”

Steve and Eddie shared a glance before they both got to their feet and followed the sound of cursing to where the house kept their garbage bins on the days it wasn’t out on the curb. Two of the three cans had been tipped over and riffled through. Hopper, the groundskeeper was standing over top of them with his hand on his hips glaring down at the mess.

“Oooh,” Eddie hissed. “What happened here, chief?”

Hopper looked up at them in confusion as if he had forgotten the house populated at all. He blinked a moment. “I didn’t wake the girls did I?”

Steve shook his head. “It would take a sonic boom going off near their heads to wake them once they’ve actually fallen asleep.”

Eddie chuckled, “They’re like their dad that way.”

Hopper breathed out a sigh of relief. “I was worried I had woken up the littles. As to what happened, raccoons is what happened. They get into the trash and just fuck it up.”

“How do you know it’s raccoons?” Steve asked cocking his head to the side. “Couldn’t it have just been someone messing around or even vagrants?”

Jim rubbed his chin. “Could be, but I used to do security on one of the neighborhood houses.” he said wearily, “and they were having raccoon problems. They put locks on the garbage bins and that was that. I’d suggest you do the same.”

Steve nodded. “And if it’s the other two, the lock would fix both problems as well.”

“Eehhh...” Eddie said with a wince. “If my cleaners were anything other than a single mom and her fifteen year old daughter, then I’d agree with the lock and move on. But aren’t there other things we can try first, like those bear proof bins at Yellowstone or whatever?”

“You’ve been to Yellowstone?” Steve asked tilting his head to the side. “I wouldn’t have thought you were the outdoorsy type.”

“Yup!” Eddie said with a bright smile, rocking back on his heels. “Wayne and I used to travel to all the national parks before I had the girls. We plan are starting back up next year or the one after now that they aren’t babes in arms anymore.”

“I’ll look into get some,” Hopper said clearing his throat so their attention was back at the matter at hand. “See if I can find some approved by the county. I’ve got a friend who’s a wildlife rescuer. Maybe he can loan me some traps so we get the critter some place safer.”

Eddie nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure the girls would appreciate knowing that the animal isn’t going to be harmed.”

Hopper got a twisted sort of smile. “Had a little girl myself once, I know how tenderhearted they can be.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Steve murmured, noting the past tense of that statement.

Hopper cocked his head and then shook it ruefully. “Pastor says she’s in better place, ain’t sure if I believe that anymore.”

“I hear that,” Eddie said, “I felt the same way when my mom died. Everyone was telling eight year old me that she was in a better place. When I thought the best place she could be was with me.”

Hopper nodded. “I get to it. I didn’t mean to startle you. Have a good day.” Then he wandered off to find garbage bags to clean up the mess.

“Grumpy, old man,” Eddie said fondly. “He’s good at his job though. How did you entice him away from his other job?”

Steve grinned. “I told him that he could live on the property rent free and be left alone for the most part.”

Eddie threw back is head and laughed. “That would do it all right. And it’s not like I don’t get wanting to be left the fuck alone. He does his job and his does it well. Ten of ten, no complaints from me.”

“I really should get back to doing the laundry,” Steve said jutting his thumb behind him to inside the house.”

Eddie checked his watch. “And I’ve got a Zoom meeting with some weirdo nu metal band who wants me to produce their album. Lord save me from Nu Metal!”

Steve just shook his head and the two of them went inside. Maybe living with Eddie wasn’t as hard as he thought it was.

Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: ONE SLOT OPEN!!

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- @a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @yesdangerpls @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #nanny steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #nanny au

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winchesterwild78 · 6 months ago

Text

A Shattered Heart

Master List

Jensen x Reader (girlfriend)

Warnings: Lots and lots of Angst, language, Jensen being a dick (sorry)

A/N: Just kinda in my head and feelings today…This story just popped in my head. Not sure if it’s going to be a one shot or a few chapters. I’ll play it by ear. I had to get this out before I could finish any of my other stories. 🫤 This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. All work is my own and absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. No idea why my head is filled with this story…..it’s brutal. I wrote it fast-like 30 minutes, and didn’t do a great job editing. Please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

The soft glow of the lamp cast long, dancing shadows across the room. Jensen and you had been dating for a few months now, and while there were moments of pure bliss, the weight of his recent divorce often hung heavy in the air. His ex-wife had been particularly cruel during the proceedings, leaving him emotionally scarred.

You’d tried to be there for him, but he would often push you away to deal with things himself. He tried to keep things civil between him and Danneel, for the sake of the kids, but it proved to be a daunting task at times.

After months of back and forth, they finally arrived at a custody agreement. He would get the kids when he wasn’t filming, and for some holidays. She kept the house in Connecticut and he got the one in Austin. Danneel tried to get both, but the judge decided she had gotten enough from him. Between child support, alimony, half the brewery and half the production company, she was practically set for life.

You had absolutely no problem with the child support, but you felt it was ridiculous she received alimony too. Jensen didn’t put up a fight about that. You respected him so much, the only thing he did fight for was his children.

After the divorce was final, you moved in with him, into his Austin home. He told you to make any changes you wanted, because as he put it, “It’s your home too.” So you made some changes here and there, but keeping all of the things that were Jensen and of course his children.

Danneel barely spoke to you, and would often refer to you as a homewrecker, trash, or some other derogatory term she could think of. It pissed Jensen off, because the two of you met after they split up, and you didn’t move in until after the divorce was final.

You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you, but it really did. You fell in love with Jensen when you saw him at a convention, but you didn’t pursue him until after you heard they had split. Well, you really didn’t pursue him, you two just hit it off and got to talking. You both flirted, alcohol was free flowing, and then you kissed. That was it. Days later, after the convention ended, Jensen reached out to you on social media. You thought it was a joke until he sent you a picture and then video called you. After that you were completely smitten by him.

So now here you were months later, living with him and falling deeper in love with him. You hoped he felt the same way about you. The only obstacle was his filming schedule. It was something you weren’t used to yet, and sometimes it caused tension between the two of you.

As Jensen’s marriage started to fall apart he purposely spent more time away from home. He took guest starring roles, did more conventions, and even started some new projects. It became a habit that was hard for him to break.

So now even though your relationship was good, he had commitments he had already made. It’s been an adjustment to say the least. Jensen was off filming again, and you were left alone, again. Your heart ached for him, your arms ached for him. The longer he was gone the more in your head you would get, and that was never a good thing.

After a month-long shooting schedule, Jensen returned home looking haggard and exhausted. you could see the toll it had taken on him. The two of you had spent the evening cuddling on the couch, with you trying to soothe his weary soul. You made his favorite dinner, steak and potatoes, and even baked him a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.

“Thanks sweetheart for dinner and dessert. You didn’t have to go all out for me.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Yes I did, you’ve been gone for too long and I wanted to show you how much I missed you. Besides, who can say no to chocolate cake?” You winked at him. The two of you spent the rest of the night snuggled together under the blanket and talking while the tv played softly in the background.

He told you about the latest project he was on, how he’d been called back to guest star in Tracker again. You could see his excitement, but part of you felt a pang of sadness, because that meant more time away from you. You bit your lip to prevent the tears from flowing. You were so proud of him and all his projects, but part of you wanted to be selfish and have him to yourself for a little bit.

Just as you were about to settle in for the night, his phone rang. It was Danneel. You could hear the anger in her voice as she berated him about his absence and how the alimony check was 2 days late. “Fuck, Danneel, it was only 2 damn days. You act like it’s the end of the world. Maybe if you got off your ass and worked it wouldn’t be that big of a deal! I was in Canada and the mail takes longer. Yes, it has to be a check. I want a paper trail to prove I paid it! Bullshit! You would throw me under the bus if you could. You’re just waiting to screw me over!” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. You sat in silence as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. “No! I already told you I’ll be filming. I can’t keep the kids for spring break. That’s not fair, Danneel. Fine! Do whatever the fuck you want!” He hung up with a growl.

You stepped closer to him and touched his arm, trying to offer some comfort. He shrugged you off, “Not now, Y/N! Fuck!” You flinched at his anger and his words. He’d never spoken to you like that before. It took you by surprise and it hurt. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I was just trying to help.” Your voice came out softer and smaller than you’d ever heard. “Well don’t! You’re not a part of this, you can’t help! Unless you know how I can continue to work and see my kids, while supporting them, my ex and you!” You gasped at his words. “What?! You don’t support me? I work, I make my own money.”

Jensen scoffed, “Yeah right. Your little paycheck, honey I make that in a fucking day!” Tears filled your eyes and you let out an audible sob. Jensen turned and looked at you as you cried. His eyes were full of rage, his jaw tight with anger. You had no idea why he was taking his anger out on you.

He ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated growl. “Fuck this shit! I can’t handle my bitch ex wife and now you crying like you are. I’m going out!” He grabbed his jacket and keys and left.

As he stormed out of the house, you crumbled onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. His words, his anger playing over and over in your head like a record. Each harsh word, like a punch to the chest. You felt incredibly hurt, so betrayed, and so utterly alone.

You eventually moved off the floor, when the tears refused to fall anymore. Exhaustion overtaking your body, your head pounding from the crying. Hours passed as you laid on the couch, curled in a ball. You checked your phone, hoping for a text or a call from Jensen, but nothing. As the hours ticked on your heart broke more.

Around 4 am you were startled awake by the sound of the front door opening. Jensen came in, drunk. You could smell the whiskey on him. You sat up and looked at him, “Jensen, do you have any idea what time it is?” You asked softly.

“Nope, don’t care either. Why are you still here? I figured you’d be gone by now.” Jensen asked through slurred speech. You bit your lip and swallowed hard, “You don’t mean that Jensen.”

You stood up and walked over to him. He stepped closer to you, saw your red, puffy eyes, “Yes I do, darlin’. I thought I made it clear I don’t want you here anymore. It’s only complicating things with my kids.”

You scoffed as the pain and hurt shot through your body, “Okay, I’ll leave. Just know you’re the one who asked for me to leave, Jensen. I love you.” You walked upstairs without looking back at him. The tears were flowing freely now. Your heart was shattered. You’d given him everything, including your heart, and he just threw it all away.

Walking into your shared bedroom, you looked around at the life you two had created. You grabbed a suitcase and started filling it up with things. You glanced at Jensen’s side of the bed and saw the picture Chris took of the two of you at the convention you met him at. You saw the love in his eyes and in yours.

As you left the bedroom you walked back downstairs and found Jensen sitting on the couch. He glanced up at you and saw the suitcase in your hand. You walked over to the kitchen counter, took your key off the ring and set it down.

Before you walked out the door, you turned around and locked eyes with Jensen. “I love you Jensen, please don’t forget that. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you.” You swear his breath hitched at your words, but you turned so quickly you weren’t sure.

You put your suitcase in your car and climbed in. Putting the car in drive you pulled out of the driveway, looking in the rearview mirror at the life you were now left to mourn.

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

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@nancymcl @baby19sthings

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@kindollss @foxyjwls007

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@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75

@superrey @kamisobsessed

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader

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annwrites · 2 months ago

Text

punish

⸻ part i: august underground ⸻

| chapter two. |

· pairing: serialkiller!billyhargrove x fem!reader · type: part of a series · summary: billy helps you out with a little vehicle mishap after work, & when you insist on repaying him, he requests that the two of you go on a date together. · tw: dead dove, misogyny, disturbing sexual themes, fantasization of various forms of abuse, fantasization of murder, manipulation, exhibitionism, mental illness (schizophrenia & malignant narcissism), objectification, suicidal ideation, stalking, obsession · tags: masturbation, angst · word count: 8.4k · ꒰a/n꒱: reader is bi, like me, just so everyone is aware.

It's been nearly a week since the funeral. In that time, Billy has been, as ever, busying himself with preparations.

He deserves a fucking medal for how patient he's forcing himself to be. But if your relationship is to bloom naturally—like a delicate, hothouse orchid—at least on your end, that is, then he needs to pamper you. Needs to present himself as a proper young man—a gentleman in every essence. The kind that you can't help but fall in love with, as if it's merely just the natural thing to do.

Sinking his poisonous hooks into you will take time and effort, he knows, but he's convinced you're completely worth it. There's no talking himself out of it now. He's started down a path there is no turning back from.

After all, the payoff will be...unimaginable. To have his own personal living, breathing sex toy? A sweet young woman to cook and clean for him—to tend to his home? To comfort and soothe him in his moments of blind rage? To do whatever he says, and as soon as he says it, out of a sense of unflinching devotion?

Half the excitement is in the anticipation, he then realizes—in his imagination.

The thought of you existing solely to serve him...

Billy moans lustfully at the thought, while turning onto his back.

He slips his callused hand beneath his dark blue comforter, then quickly wraps it around his throbbing erection.

His eyes slide closed as he begins to stroke—so achingly slow—from base to tip, wanting to savor the moment.

Billy occupies himself with fleeting images which send cum oozing out of his cock and onto his hand and thighs. Like you tied up in his basement, naked and wet, crying and begging.

Begging for him to stop, or for more, more, more...

Well, he enjoys the idea of both, in truth. Enjoys the idea of you utterly terrified of what he's doing to you; how he's twisting your mind to see things you never even imagined in such a different light—and of the things he sticks inside your tight, virginal cunt, until you can't help but give into your natural, bodily reactions as you spread your legs wider and wider, beckoning him forth to aid you in your body's unwilling, yet pulsating arousal. Until you're dripping and so fucking lost in it that you can't even form words, you've gone so stupid and cock-drunk from your own lustful needs as he fucks you over and over and over.

He wants to claim every part of you. Every hole, every orifice that he can put himself inside of, he will. You'll be so fucking full of cum it'll be pouring out of you. He won't stop until you're covered in it, and he's filled your belly by spilling down your throat.

But it isn't enough. No, marking you in that way...once he's washed and dressed you, it will no longer be visible on the outside. The scars will only be on the in.

His mind's eye then envisions you sprawled out on his mattress—spread-eagle with all your limbs pulled taught, thus giving him free reign to do as he pleases between your legs—and he takes his time carving his name with a smooth, cool blade into the tender flesh of your inner thighs. Even directly above your pussy. 'Billy's Property', it might just read. Because you will be. And you'll be so happy in your new role—your new purpose—once you've been thoroughly and painstakingly brainwashed to love your captor. Your master. Him.

Your crimson blood drips onto the mattress beneath you, and he rubs the tip of his cock against your weeping wound, until it's covered in red. And then he enters your abused cunt and works out his frustrations until you're raw and pleading for mercy, you're in so much pain.

But it will be all for him. And, as such, you'll be glad to oblige if he commands you to be silent until he's done using you. Otherwise... You'll know what happens otherwise.

It'll be addicting: the highs and the lows. So much so that, before long, you'll no longer even desire the possibility of escaping. All part of your training.

There's something quite intimate about it, isn't there? The sometimes turbulent relationship between a man and a woman.

He may wish he were fucking dead, but he thinks he understands his old man the least bit better now. Why he was the way he was.

He's become like him.

He nearly fills with revulsion at the thought, but he's so close. He can't lose focus. He needs this.

No. He's not like him.

He's worse.

He made him as much.

Billy sits up quickly, kneels on the floor, then spills his seed across hardwood as he groans your name from between clenched teeth.

Just as he's caught his breath, he begins again, relishing in the pain as he strokes away furiously at his swollen, weeping cock.

Soon, you'll learn how to do so, too: enjoy the pleasure that pain can bring. You'll learn everything he has to teach you. You'll be thankful for all he has to offer.

Everything.

You wrap your fleece blanket more tightly around yourself while tucking your chin in close to your chest.

You're currently sitting upon the roof of your house—well, technically the roof of your parent's house—breathing in the cool morning air, watching as the soft, yellow sun crests over the horizon in the distance, illuminating the green, expansive field which lies at the back of the house.

The morning dew that clings to the grass shimmers in the light, and birds hop along while pecking at the ground, looking for something to eat.

You do this sometimes before the day ahead: enjoy the silence before the entire town is awake and going about their business.

Sometimes you also utilize the quiet as a way to clear your head. Which has, for the last few days, been racing with thought after thought. Half of them about the fear all the women who reside within Hawkins are now living under, due to Tina's killer still being at-large, as well as what happened between you and Nancy in her bed...

Neither of you have spoken anymore about it, but the couple of times you've come over to hang out, you could tell that she was waiting for you to bring it up just by the way she was looking at you. But you hadn't, so now here the secret sits between you—heavy and charged; electrifying, even.

Like when you brushed hands while in the kitchen the other day, and how it immediately sent a jolt of excitement through your body, right down to your toes, or how she changed from blue jeans into a sundress right in front of you in her room just yesterday—she hadn't even been wearing a bra at the time—her eyes never leaving yours all the while, even as both your cheeks burned from the unspoken knowledge of what you were really doing. Foreplay, almost, as a pounding pulse settled firmly between your thighs as you watched her take her time changing garments.

Even if nothing had come after.

Well, it sort of did... The two of you had been ready to head out the door when she'd turned back to you and gazed into your eyes as she whispered that she needed to run upstairs to change her panties real quick.

You had wanted to slip your hand into your own while she'd been gone. Had wanted her to catch you pleasuring yourself in the middle of the foyer, just to find out what would come after if she did. If the two of you would race upstairs to her room just to finish each other off.

But you hadn't, because then you'd have to live with knowing that you're a homewrecker, so to speak.

Isn't what the two of you are doing dishonest anyway, though? What? Because you're girls, and friends, it's not wrong what's being done behind Steve's back?

Context matters.

Nancy wasn't just throwing a dress on before going out. She'd wanted you to see her like that.

And you had liked it: the forbidden taboo of it.

You'd also liked that she'd said it without even having to explicitly do so: it'd turned her on so much that she'd soaked straight through her underwear.

How...how do girls have sex, exactly? Oral isn't hard to get at, nor is fingering. But the other fantasy you've had...like rubbing yourselves together down there... That must be it.

You've found yourself with your hand between your thighs late at night more than once at the very thought—rather, fantasy—of it.

To imagine the two of you like that: naked, flushed, and whining wantonly as you slide along one another's slits, making love for hours in her bed with nothing standing between you—nothing to stop you...

You groan from a sense of sexual frustration while lying back against the shingled roof of the house at the mental image of it. You feel wet and sticky between your thighs now.

And just a moment later do you give into it while spreading your legs wide. You bury your fingers between your slick, hot folds, and whisper Nancy's name as you gradually work toward finding your peak as the sun rises in the distance, casting your chilled, naked body in warmth.

It's a slow day at work today. It is most of the time, really. You get a steady flow of customers at the library, sure, but it's not like it experiences the same volume of traffic as, say, the Starcourt Mall.

You'd lose your mind if it did.

It's why you gave it your very best—in terms of applying and interviewing—to obtain a position here: it's quiet, easy work, with kind patrons to tend to. Volunteering here for multiple summers in a row year-after-year already made you the more likely candidate for the job, so there had been little doubt about you getting it, in truth.

You slide a Cormac McCarthy novel onto the shelf in front of you before turning your cart to head over to the next row of books.

Sometimes, you think that the stories which surround you are the only way you’ll ever find true love—between the yellowed pages of well-loved literature. Through such books do you get an opportunity to escape for a few hours, or a few days—depending on the length of the typed work, and how long it takes you to complete your venture through the material—from your monotonous, everyday schedule.

It’s nothing against Hawkins. Well, not until recently, that is. The truth is that you actually enjoy small-town life.

You understood those who were chomping at the bit, shortly before graduation, to leave and find themselves elsewhere. In wide-open spaces full of opportunity and the unknown. But for you…you like the safety, comfort, and security that familiarity, and even limitations can provide.

The thought of living elsewhere, where neighbors are exchanged for complete strangers, mom-and-pop shops are instead replaced by greedy, all-consuming corporations—which only thirst to drain a town dry, thus leaving nothing behind but a husk of a corpse as the only form of memory that something better had once been where they left their mark—small, cozy homes generations have resided within are razed to create condos and hotels, and there is no life, or love, or sense of community… You’d rather die.

Perhaps a bit dramatic, but it’s the truth.

A few times, for family vacations during the summer, did you go to big cities with your parents—well, bigger, that is—and the novelty of it is something to be noted, to be certain. But the excitement always quickly wore off as the strangeness of your new environs settled in.

All the busy traffic outside the hotel walls, the people shoving past you on the street, and overpriced everything served as more than enough, in way of confirmation, that Hawkins is where you truly belong. Of where your heart rests, and knows to call home above any other locale.

You sigh while placing a how-to instructional on woodworking upon a high shelf as your thoughts are overtaken by a dreamy fantasy of a rough-handed man whisking you away to a romantic cabin in the woods, and showing you everything his body has to offer your own.

Talk about having one’s head in the clouds…

Billy doesn’t mind working. It keeps his hands busy. Hands that, left to their own—rather, his own—devices, would most-likely find themselves, in his infinite boredom, elbow-deep in something they’re not supposed to be in.

He thought himself a creationist that evening as he made his art. The branch his brush, her blood his paint, the deafening silence of the woods his audience, as nature itself beheld his greatest act.

He hadn’t planned to take things as far as he did. But, once he allowed his machinations to swallow him whole within the unending depths of depravity to be discovered in their darkened maw, something else took over—claimed him. Something primal, animalistic, and…pure.

He’d wanted to frighten her, yes. Had wanted her to feel even an ounce of the pain that she had inflicted upon him when she did what she did—something so fucking unforgivable. But once she began to plead, began to beg, began to bleed…he knew she was never going to leave those woods.

Not alive, at least.

And so there is where her spirit sways, between the leaves, wandering aimlessly for eternity. Meanwhile, his own life goes on. But not for much longer will he walk this path alone. No. For today is when things begin between he and another. Another, who he knows will never disappoint him. Will never shatter his heart, betray his trust, or take what he has to give for granted. And give he most certainly will.

Billy slides out from beneath the Station Wagon he’s just finished an oil change on and he steps over to the shop sink, lathers his callused, grease-stained hands in a tub of clean water, then dries them off before patting his right pocket to ensure he has his much-needed tool.

“Takin’ my break, Jerry!” he calls to his manager across the garage. In return, he receives a mere nod of acknowledgement.

Billy steps out into the summer sun while casting his eyes around. Once he’s confirmed that the coast in clear, he jaunts over to the library—it’s not more than a two-minute walk, if that, from the garage he’s employed at, luckily for him—and he makes a beeline for your car.

A sweet little light-blue sedan, which has a dreamcatcher hanging in the rear-view, is his target.

A multi-purpose tool slips from his oh-so clumsy hand, which he kneels down to retrieve. When he does, he flicks open one of the small blades and shoves the tip of it into the tread of your rear driver-side tire. Once he hears a satisfying ‘hiss’ of expelling air does he pocket the object before standing once more.

He takes a small step forward while gazing through the set of glass double-doors that serve as the entrance to your workplace. He catches only the briefest glimpse of you cornering your darling little bookcart around a shelf. Your hair is curled and pulled into a high ponytail, with a sweet little ribbon tied around it, while the remainder of your smooth, supple young body is dressed in a flowy sundress and sneakers. He groans, wanting nothing more than to slide his heavy, aching hands beneath the skirt of your dress until you’re writhing from his dexterous touch.

He relents, however, telling himself that that will have to wait. That it all will. He just needs to bide his time, just as he’s been doing. Because this evening…is when it all will begin at long last.

He turns his back to you and takes steady strides back to the garage while whistling an upbeat tune.

You throw your head back and groan loudly in frustration. Great, just great. A flat tire. Wonderful.

You flit your eyes around—you don’t even know why; it’s not like you would have the courage to bother someone, in terms of asking for their help with something that’s not their problem—then make to turn back to the library to head inside and call your dad to see if he’s home and can drive out and aid you with the issue at-hand.

Just as you take a single step forward is when you hear someone call from behind you.

“Need some help?”

Slowly, you turn back to the source of the masculine voice to find none other than Billy Hargrove watching you from the driver’s seat of his Camaro—his window is rolled down, and his tanned, muscled arm hangs out the side of the vehicle.

“Oh, I…” you trail off while walking over to him.

You gesture toward your car. “I have a flat. It was fine this morning when I parked, but I must’ve picked something up on the way here. Glad it got me to work, at least.”

He leans back to get a look at your car, so you step to the side and out of the way, and then he focuses upon you once more. “I can change it. You got a spare in the trunk?”

You blanch. “Yes, but you don’t have to do that. I was just going to run inside and call my dad to see if he could come—”

He swings his car around and pulls up next to your own before getting out—cutting you off short.

“Pop the trunk for me, sweetheart.”

You walk over to him. “It’s okay. I’m sure you have other things you need to do—”

He gestures for your keys. “It’s no problem. Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t have the time. I have nowhere else to be.”

You hand him your keychain then.

You don’t notice how he quickly takes stock of everything on it. From your housekey—the metal top of which is a little white house with blue shutters and a red door—to your car key, which there’s nothing special to make note about. There’s also a resin keychain, which has the tiniest of flowers captured within it; a small, pink blossom. And finally, there’s a charm, which looks like half of a broken heart, that says, in silver letters, ‘best’. He assumes its other half belongs to Nancy Wheeler, and says ‘friends’, to complete the duo.

He decides that he likes the flower most of all. Something so delicate—so tiny—forever preserved, never to escape. Never to wither and die, but instead has been made to be admired by its owner for as long as they should choose to keep it amongst their treasured things.

You and the object will, in time, come to have much in common, he thinks wryly.

Billy heads around to the back of your car, and he pops the trunk before returning your keys to you—his fingertips brushing against the soft palm of your hand when he does so. A measured gesture on his end.

Oh, how he craves more. More of your skin, more of your warmth, more of your feminine gentility. More of you, you, you.

While you stand to the side silently watching, Billy retrieves the needed materials to fix the hindrance he himself created.

“Is there anything I can do?” you ask quietly; sweetly.

He glances to you. “No, sweetheart, but thank you. Give me ten or fifteen and I’ll be all done here.”

You nod once with a smile upon your lips, which he returns in kind.

He makes note of how your cheeks warm when he gives you his attention. How you smooth your dress, wanting to rid yourself of any imagined imperfections, lest he notice them, too.

Already it’s working. Already you worry after his hypothetical opinion of you. God, how he fucking adores you for it.

As Billy gets to work on your car, you crane your neck back while staring up at the dimming sky above. It’s only a little after seven, which means there’s still around two hours of daylight left to be had, but the sun is slowly kissing the day goodbye, to instead allow the moon to take her stance in its place so the night can come and put the land to sleep.

You admire the splotchy light blues, grays, and oranges that meld together high above as fluffy clouds float lazily along, headed elsewhere.

And with your attention so enraptured on what’s above you, you don’t notice what’s below. Billy is crouched but a few inches from you as he jacks up your car, and he leans down the least bit more, desperate to get a peek up your skirt.

He wants to know what sort of panties you wear—given any at all. Though, he’s sure that you do. You wouldn’t be the type to go without, now would you? Surely not.

He imagines they’re cotton-made, with pastel colors and charming patterns, like hearts and stars, with dainty little bows placed just below your navel.

He wonders if he’s ever been the cause of them sticking to your puffy, untouched virgin cunt as you daydream about things you’d like for him to do to you.

Surely you fantasize—touch yourself when you need to relax. When you feel a pleasant, fluttering pulse between those lovely thighs late at night. If not: all the more for him to teach you, he muses.

Just as you begin to level your chin again is when he turns away, leaving you none-the-wiser to his staring and studying.

You shift on your feet while watching Billy’s muscles move and shift beneath his tanned skin as he loosens the bolts which hold your tire and rim together.

Once he’s removed the damaged rubber object, he squints while turning it round slowly. He applies pressure to a few different points as he looks for the culprit to blame for your vehicular dilemma.

He mutters something to himself about possibly needing a bit of soap and water, until he pauses and stares intently at the object in his grip.

“Think I see the spot to blame. There’s a hole in your tread. Might’ve ran something over in the parking lot here. Hard to tell when it happened.” he raises his head and gazes up at you with blue eyes which shine from beneath golden-brown curls. “I can throw it in my trunk and take it home with me. Won’t take me long to get it patched. I can bring it over to your place once I’m done and put it back on.”

He doesn’t frame it as a question, because he’s not asking. It’s pivotal you let him do this for you.

“Oh. Well—”

He shoves your spare onto the rim, then begins screwing lug-nuts back into place.

“I could just take it somewhere tomorrow after work to get it fixed. I don’t want to be any trouble.”

He shakes his head while picking up your tire-iron once more.

He has a fleeting, intrusive thought to bash you over the head with it until your skull is busted open and your brain has made a bloody mess all over the pavement, but he shoves the impulsive urge for a random act of violence down deep within his core until it’s disappeared altogether. “It’s no trouble, baby. I don’t mind. Like I said, it won’t take me long, and at least this way you won’t get ripped off by another guy at the shop when he tries convincing you that you need new brake pads and an air filter, too.”

Baby.

He called you baby.

And instead of balking at the term of endearment, you grow warm all over. It sounded so sweet when he said it. So kind.

Maybe you had him all wrong at the funeral, after all.

You nod while relenting. “Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

He screws another nut back into place. “I am.”

Once Billy is finished, he’s returned your tools to the trunk of your car, and he’s loaded your damaged tire into the back of his, he turns back to you while wiping his hands on a spare shop rag he had in his backseat.

“I’ll bring it by later tonight once I’ve gotten something to eat and it’s been patched.”

You take a step toward him. “You don’t have to do it tonight. I know it won’t hurt for me to drive on the spare for a couple of days. I can wait if you—”

He smirks, but it’s not in a flirtatious, or mocking way, you note. It’s more from a sense of mild amusement, you think. Like maybe he finds your insistence that he not waste his personal time on your own affairs to be endearing.

He reaches up and tucks some stray baby hairs behind your ear before running his thumb along the soft skin of your cheek. “I don’t want to have to worry about something happening to that spare, or another one of your tires, and you not having anything extra to drive on because I chose to be lazy and not help when you needed it.”

He drops his hand while sliding his opposite one into his pocket—fiddling with his multi-tool. “You can count on seeing me tonight once I’ve got it fixed for you, honey.”

You nervously slide a hand up your arm while the seed of a newly-planted crush begins to slowly bloom in your chest. “I’ll see you then.”

You got lucky when Billy erred on the side of generosity by helping change your tire. Your dad is working late tonight, and thus wouldn’t have been of any help to you anyway would you have tried calling him at home.

You and your mom made corn on the cob, fried chicken—one of your absolute favorite dishes—and a salad full of greenery for dinner tonight. She makes sure to put together a plentiful plate for your dad, which she wraps up and places on the top-right shelf inside the fridge, with a little love note, instructing him to eat it once he comes home later.

You tell her, as the two of you eat, about your tire and the young man who came to your rescue, and she tells you—as if you don’t already know—to make sure you thank him when he stops by later, and to also make an offer of sending him home with a Tupperware container of leftovers, if he’d like some.

“Do you know him?” she asks while taking a bite out of a chicken leg.

You nod. “We went to high school together. Do you remember me telling you about the boy who moved here from California with his family senior year?”

She stirs her salad around with her fork for a moment while thinking. “Maybe. He was on the basketball team, wasn’t he?”

You nod again. “Yeah, he was. Well, that’s him. His name is Billy Hargrove. He works at the garage next to the library, just across the way, and to the right.”

She hums while nodding, as if realization has just dawned on her. “The name Hargrove sounds familiar. Were you friends in school?”

You take a sip of your water while shrugging slightly. “Not really. Ran with different crowds, I guess. He did basketball while I read and spent most of my spare time either here, at Nancy’s, or the library. Honestly, in school, he kind of…seemed like an ass.”

She snorts quietly. “A lot of them can seem that way when they’re young, sweetie. Even once they’ve gotten older, they don’t necessarily grow up. Sounds like he has, though.”

You smile slightly before taking a bite of your buttery, salted corn. “Maybe.”

You sit by the window— your heart practically thrumming from excitement as you wait for his headlights to pull into the driveway.

He does you one favor, and already you’re head-over-heels for him. Pathetic. It takes no male attention at all for you to turn into a hopelessly romantic sap. You blame it on how lonely you are.

You have Nancy, yes, and maybe in more way than one, but you’d, admittedly, like to meet a nice young man one day to settle down with.

Not that you think Billy is that for you. You barely know one another. And he was just being friendly by helping you out today, that’s all. Besides, like you thought to yourself at Tina’s funeral, he knows—or, at the very least, knew—how to get around. You won’t be the kind of girl who lets herself become yet another notch in someone’s bedpost.

You want more than that. A lot more.

God only knows if you’ll ever find it, though.

You lean your head against the window to your right, and just as you’re ready to resign yourself to the fact that he’s clearly not coming, he proves you wrong.

A smile breaks out across your face as you jump up from your window seat and slip on a pair of house-shoes to go out and greet him.

“Sorry it took me so long, but I was starving by the time I got home.”

You shake your head while bounding down, and off the front porch steps. You don’t even manage to hide your smile at the handsome sight of him.

You could slap yourself for how you’re acting. Especially given the things he said at Tina’s funeral only a mere week ago. It’s not that you’ve forgotten. You just…see him a little differently now, maybe.

“No, that’s okay. I’m glad you didn’t rush. I hope you know how much I appreciate this. How much I appreciate all your help today, in general.”

He pops open his trunk before retrieving your tire. While he does so, he takes a moment to admire you. He now knows how you look when you’re at home and lounging around—relaxing without prying eyes to study your every facet. As if he isn’t guilty of doing as much time and again.

Yes, he’s spied on you from across the street at night while you’re in your room, but at such a distance, certain things can be a bit difficult to make out. Such as attire, and whether, on the nights that you leave your window open, and your blankets are shifting atop you, if it’s because you’re trying to get comfortable before falling off to sleep, or because you have your hand between your legs as you play with yourself.

He always likes to imagine that it’s the latter. It makes it easier for him to get off in his car when he’s watching you, at least.

The thought of his sweet, innocent girl having a sex drive as high as his is something he’s unsure how to feel about, however. Would it be unseemly for you to as a young lady? It’d be better for you both if you do, to be sure. Because, at least that way, every time he comes to you wanting it, you’ll be all to happy to give it. Not that he won’t be taking it either way, but it’ll be better on you in the long-run if he’s not having to constantly force himself upon you when his cock is filled with blood and throbbing between his thighs, desperately needing to be soaked in your arousal as a way to will the unwanted voices away.

He trails his eyes along your bare, shaved legs, then up the loose, soft material of your knee-length nightgown—which has little sleeping crescent moons, floating upon fluffy white clouds printed across the material—and then to your comely face. You even have a pair of bunny slippers on. God, you have no idea how adorable and innocent you are, do you?

All part of your allure, clearly.

Finally, Billy replies. “I was glad to do it, sweetheart. I’m only sorry that it took this long for the two of us to properly meet.”

He walks over, opens your driver-side door, then pops open your trunk.

“I know we didn’t really…talk in school. I guess we were just both different from each other.”

He glances up to you while kneeling down to get to work on switching out your tires once more. “How so?” he asks with a raised brow.

He needs to hear it: the ways in which he can portray himself differently to reel you in further. The things about him back then that, perhaps, repelled you which might still be present now. Not that he would be changing himself permanently for your benefit. No, such shifts in personality would only last long enough until he’s sunk his hooks into you.

“Well, you did basketball. So, I assume you were—or, are—into sports. They’ve never really been my thing. And you…”

He begins loosening lug-nuts. “I what, baby?”

There it is again. Your cheeks warm at the chosen name for you. Well, you hope he chose it for you, that is. Then again, he probably calls all the girls that.

Like you’re any different from the rest of them. Look at you, you’re fawning all over him right now!

“You uh…” how best to word this? “Well, you seemed popular. Especially with the girls. And I’ve always been kind of an introvert, so…”

He certainly catches that ‘especially with the girls’ bit. Does that mean that you had a crush on him even back then? That he could’ve had you sooner, had he bothered with paying attention to you, instead of every other girl he picked out for himself? Most of which got rode so much that they should’ve installed goddamn toll roads between their legs.

It’s better this way, he reassures himself. He’s older now. Coming into who—rather, what—he truly is. He knows what to do now. How to play the game. His own particular version of it, at least.

He shrugs while jacking the car up. “Honestly, me getting into basketball was more for my old man than me. Everything always had to be about him. It gave me something to do, though, I guess.”

He can’t complain too much. Can’t let on how much he fucking despises Neil. Not right now.

He continues. “And it was a good way to stay in shape. Taught me about teamwork. So, at least a couple good things came out of it. As for the girls…”

He kneels down again to loosen the bolts the rest of the way, flitting desperately through his addled mind for the right way to respond. “I was lonely. Just…looking to get close to someone, even if it was only through sex. It wasn’t the best thing for me, or them, I know. But, I was young and I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I guess maybe I thought…”

He trails off then, leaving something unspoken hanging in the silence between you.

You take a small step forward. “You thought what?” you ask gently.

So easily you chomped down on that wriggling bit of bait, he thinks.

“That I wasn’t ever going to be worth more than that to anyone—to any of them, I mean—above just being an easy lay. So, if that was all I could get—the only way I could be close to someone, that is—then I took it.”

Your mouth tugs into a frown and your heart aches at his terrible admittance.

“You don’t…think that way about yourself now, do you?”

He remains silent as he works at your tire. He can’t play the whiny, helpless boy, looking for someone to feel sorry for him and take him in like a lost little stray. Too many red flags at once, and you’ll run and everything will be ruined.

“No. Not like I did. I still get lonely sometimes, but I think everyone does, even if they’re with someone. Just…human nature, I guess. We all have our internal worlds, y’know? But graduating, getting a decent job where I work with people that I like, and I like what I do, and getting my own place, has been a huge help in terms of…well, everything, to tell you the truth.”

You smile at that, glad to hear that he’s improved himself for the better.

You wish you could be that brave to step outside of your comfort zone, in terms of trying something new. Such as living on your own.

You tell yourself that you will someday soon. Maybe in a year or two. You’re still quite young after all, so living at home for now isn’t anything to look down upon, right?

You just…really don’t like the idea of being all on your lonesome out there. The thought of lying in bed by yourself in the middle of the night, and hearing something strange outside, with no one to turn to for protection…it makes a chill crawl up your spine.

You kneel down next to him and he immediately stops what he’s doing and shrugs off his jean jacket while throwing it down next to himself. “There. Sit on that. Don’t get your pajamas dirty.”

Tears sting your eyes at the incredibly kind gesture. You’ve never met a young man who acts like he does. Steve, maybe, but he’s with Nancy. And even if he wasn’t…he’s just not your type, in all honesty.

You do as he says while tucking your legs under you and to the side, watching quietly for a moment as Billy continues to work. “I’m really glad to hear that you’re doing better than you were. I guess you played it off really well in high school. How…sad you were. I never would’ve guessed.”

He smirks playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Benefits of getting blackout drunk every weekend—your problems just fade away, so at least you have some better memories to hold onto when the unhappiness comes creeping back in. Well, funner memories, at least. Until you wake up on a stranger’s lawn at 6 a.m. wearing nothing but a speed-o and a pink bathing cap that sure as hell ain’t yours, that is.”

You burst into a fit of giggles then. “You did that?”

He lifts a hand to his lips and motions like he’s locking them together, then throwing away a key.

You shake your head while grinning. “I only ever went to one house party with Nancy. It was a back-to-school one a few years ago. I went home after less than two hours. Too noisy and crowded, and I got bored.”

Billy switches out your tires then. “It’s not for everybody. Honestly, I think most people go to the things just so they don’t feel left out. Not because they necessarily wanted to be there.”

He looks at you. “Glad to hear you’re not like that, though. Not one of ‘em.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure they can be fun. I just…don’t do well when I’m… I don’t know what the right word to use is. Overstimulated, I guess?”

His cock twitches at the adjective. That’s one thing he can’t wait to make you feel. He’s envisioned it so many times: playing with your perfect, pretty little clit until it’s swollen and sore and you can’t take anymore.

He nods. “I get it. Being overwhelmed is usually a good way to get me to fly off the handle. Or it used to be. I’ve gotten better at managing my temper from when I was still a teenager.”

You gaze at him from beneath your lashes. You shouldn’t find the idea of him throwing fists with someone to be attractive, and yet… “Did you ever get into any fights?”

He puckers his lips and lets out a long whistle. “Shit, did I. A lot back in California. A little less when we came here, mostly because I knew my old man expected my behavior to change, since this place was supposed to be a ‘fresh start’ for all of us. None since I became an adult, even if I’ve wanted to whoop a customer or two’s ass.”

Your lip twitches. “Why? What’d they do?”

He turns fully toward you as he lowers the jack-stand, now finished with the task at-hand. “Just had a couple soft-handed pencil pushers who thought they were going to throw their weight around telling me how, actually, it’s this that needs done to their Mercedes, or that is what I need to look at on their BMW. I usually try to play nice at first, because it is my job, but when one pushed me far enough, I told his clueless ass to take it home and fix it himself, since he thinks he knows so damn much, and to call and let me know when the engine blows because he forgot to put fuckin’ oil in it again. I’ll have a wrecker come out and get it while his wife is home so I can fix it just one more time while he goes to his important little office meeting about printer paper, or whatever the fuck it is that he does that he thinks is changing the damn world in a town of less than three thousand bodies.”

You fail spectacularly at hiding the smile that fights its way onto your face.

He returns it as he watches you. “What?” he asks with a chuckle.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of…” you look away shyly, fearing you’re about to objectify him just like all those other girls did that went after him for one thing, and one thing only. “You look good when you’re mad.”

His shit-eating grin grows ever-wider as he watches your face grow as red as a freshly-plucked garden tomato. He snorts while reaching forward and taking your chin between his fingers. “You haven’t seen anything yet, baby.”

He stands then while brushing off his jeans, so you do as well on now-wobbly legs.

You retrieve his jacket and hold it toward him. “Thank you again, Billy. This was all very sweet. It means a lot to me. Most wouldn’t have bothered, so…”

You look back toward the house, then to him once more, and you watch as he shrugs his jacket back on before picking up the tools he just made use of and returning them to your trunk yet again.

“Please let me pay you back. You wasted your time after work, when you could’ve otherwise been on your way home. And then you came here after, and—”

He shuts your trunk and steps over to you. “Absolutely not. I won’t have you giving me your hard-earned cash for doing the right thing and helping a woman in-need.”

You shift on your feet while chewing your lip for a moment, trying to think of something you can do to show him your appreciation, above just telling him how thankful you are for all he’s done for you this evening.

“But—”

He shakes his head with a raised brow and slight tilt to his lips while crossing his arms.

You huff a sigh of slight frustration. “I don’t know what else to do other than offer you a container of leftovers from dinner.”

He bobs his head from side-to-side, like he’s mentally considering. “Means I wouldn’t have to worry about dinner tomorrow night, at least.”

“Are you okay with fried chicken, corn, and some salad?”

He smiles while running a callused hand down your arm. “That sounds perfect, baby.”

You nod. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Billy remains outside, leaning back against his Camaro, just knowing that you’ll insist on something further. Fixing him a meal of leftovers that’ll tide him over for one evening won’t be enough to settle your generous little heart. He’s sure of it.

And God if he doesn’t fucking love you all the more for it.

A moment later do you return to him with a container in-hand. “Here you go,” you say sweetly, handing him the chilled contents.

“Thank you,” he says with a gentle nod.

He remains rooted to the spot as your eyes flit between his, and he waits for the ball to drop.

“I really don’t think leftovers are enough…” you mumble.

He bites back a satisfied smirk.

And then he sighs bemusedly while setting the plastic square down on the hood of his vehicle. “If it really means that much to you…”

He trails off and portrays a look like he’s mentally debating something with himself.

You shuffle impossibly closer to him; the two of you are nearly touching now.

It’d be all too fucking easy to grab a hold of you, clamp an iron-clad hand over your mouth, and throw you into his trunk, thus stealing you away, and making you his personal possession once and for all.

“What?” you ask in anticipation while staring up at him with wide, excitable eyes.

“If I asked you to let me take you on a date tomorrow night—or whenever works for you—would you?”

Your heart practically somersaults in your chest. “You…you want to go on a date with me?”

He slides a hand into his pocket, ready to hide it, should it suddenly morph into a fist, created out of a sense of rejection. “I do.”

You smile. And it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever beheld. For now, at least. Even shimmering tears gather in your eyes.

God, how easy you’re making this for him. How eager you are to let him take control. To let him have you.

So perfect you are for him. In every way, he’s sure he’s soon to discover.

You nod. “I’d love that.”

He removes his hand from his jean pocket, and slides it down your arm once more before twining your fingers together. “How does tomorrow night sound? You free then?”

You nod. “I am.”

“Seven o’clock?” he inquires.

“How about seven-thirty?” you ask, adjusting the time just a bit to ensure you have more than enough time for a bit of self-grooming.

He gives you a brilliant, toothy grin. “Seven-thirty sounds perfect.”

He leans down, presses a brief, chaste kiss to your cheek—even if it does leave your skin feeling like it’s spent a tad too much time in the sun—then retrieves his Tupperware from the hood of his car before leaving.

Leaving…you wanting. But, so, too, does he.

So much more.

And he will have it.

All of it.

All…of you.

Billy strokes his cock with his right hand, while his left is planted flat against the clapboard above his head. He stares through your bedroom window as you sleep, as the moon casts you in a silvery glow, and your nightgown rides up well past your thighs, allowing him a perfect preview of what’s beneath.

He wishes you would’ve forgone panties tonight. Then he’d finally know what it looks like: your pretty little cunt. The body part of yours that he’s most obsessed with the thought of. But that will have to be saved for later. He has a small appreciation for something being left to the imagination, at least.

His jeans and boxers are around his ankles, leaving nothing to hinder this sensual experience.

He’s never been so close before when doing this.

Once—just once—he stood in the middle of the street one night while getting off outside your house. It’d been…quite the experience. Not just because he’d been masturbating where anyone could’ve seen him—could catch him in the act (even if that fact did make it impossibly more exciting)—but because, apart from the boots on his feet, he’d been as naked as the fucking day he was born.

It’d been so freeing—so liberating—as he came all over the very same street that you drive along every day.

He’s wanted to re-create that experience an ungodly amount of times. And he has, but not in such a public place.

No, only ever in the forest has he gone that far again. Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he’ll drive out to where the woods are the densest; the thickest, and he’ll walk himself in deep, strip down to utterly nothing, and not stop until he’s emptied his seed all over the forest floor, planting a part of himself there. Marking his territory like a wild animal that’s desperate to claim something for itself—anything.

Billy bites his lower lip and whimpers as his fervor grows. As his climax climbs closer.

He reaches down with his left hand and fondles his testicles—tugs gently against them as tears sting his eyes at his painful fucking sense of want and desire that fills him.

He knows it’s wrong. Knows that he is.

He hates when his head gets like this.

It’s so much easier when he’s the other way around: solidified in his conceptions. His confirmations. But now they’re telling him to go away.

Sick. Fucker. Sick fucker, they call him.

Molestor.

Evil, rapist pig.

He sniffles, but pushes through, wanting to orgasm. Wanting to feel better, even for one fucking second.

He wishes he could crawl in there with you. Wishes you could hold him like his mother used to. Wishes you could make it go away: all the bad feelings, the bad things, the hurt, the fear, the utter fucking terror he feels of what he’s done. Who he’s becoming.

What he still yet intends to do to an innocent, who he knows doesn’t deserve it.

Maybe he should just do it—get it over with: pull the trigger when he gets home tonight. Save the world from yet one more demented monster.

That thought is pushed to the wayside, however, as Billy finally careens over the edge.

“Ah, fuck, yeees,” he sighs as hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from the tip of his weeping cock all over the clapboard beneath your bedroom window.

As his ministrations slow, his heart begins to calm just as his head starts to clear, and he savors the moment. They’re so few and far between now.

Billy reaches down and pulls up his jeans, then fastens his belt back into place while watching his cum drip from the side of your house.

Marking his territory indeed, his thinks slyly while stepping away, ready to finally head back home.

· tagging list: @emilynissangtr @highsummon @preppyfella @1nternetc4t @giiiiiirl

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

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rafesapologist · 1 year ago

Text

the set up — rafe cameron; part ten

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, sad rafe, idk i might be forgetting something

author's note: this chapter is both long and not entirely proof read so bear with me lol. i also wrote this at like 4 am so please. anyways, i want to start making the chapters a bit longer for you guys since i've been away for so long. enjoy!

"Y/n, what's wrong? What's going on?" You could feel Rafe's tangible consternation right through the phone. Your chest felt like it was caving in, accompanied by the growing, nausea-inducing pit in your stomach formulated from your feelings of guilt. The way his typically baritone voice was strained and quiet, presumably from the unexpected "emergency"phone call you had presented him with.

"I-I got into a huge fight with JJ," you fibbed with the help of the crack in your voice and a sorrowing tone that could only make Rafe crumble right in your hands, "it's a long story, but I need to get out of here. I can't be in this place any longer, Rafe." You fraudulently sobbed.

"Okay, okay.. Just breathe, yeah? I can come and get you in a second I just really have to finish this thing with my dad fir-"

"Rafe, please. I need you now." You pleaded as though your life depended on it, which in a way, it did. You realized that had your attempt to lure Rafe into your arms failed, your friends would be in a heap of danger.

An audible sigh was heard from the other sign of the phone, along with muffled chatter that you assumed was Rafe and Ward talking. The conversation, or what you heard of it, sounded like back-and-forth bickering for the most part, which caused a wave of anxiety to wash over you as you began to pick at your nails. Seconds felt like hours as you waited to hear Rafe's voice again on the other side, but it sounded as though the conversation continued. You stayed on the other side of the line in complete silence, not wanting to interrupt the matter, but the longer it took your nerves ensued.

"I'm on my way." Rafe suddenly responded, taking you off guard after not hearing him address you within a period of time.

"Thank you." You whispered, a small smile of satisfaction present on your face at what you had managed to accomplish. Perhaps Rafe was more infatuated than you imagined, you thought.

*NEW MESSAGE FROM Y/N to KIARA CARRERA: done.*

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Time passed by quickly whilst you waited for Rafe's arrival. You paced the living room back and forth a few times, wondering how you were going to pull off such a stunt despite the pit in your stomach growing and your hands trembling with unease. Your mind became your worst enemy as you thought through everything that could go wrong as you anxiously waited for the time to come, replaying every bad scenario through your head over and over again - until you were practically sick.

Your pessimistic thoughts were cut to a halt by a loud knock at the door, one that sounded more like someone was pounding on the other side. The noise made your body jump as you immediately turned a heel towards the door. You approached hesitantly, trying to kill as much time as possible before you'd open the door, but as time progressed the knocking became quicker and louder thuds that raddled the chateau.

"Y/n. Are you hurt? Did he do something to you cause I'll kick that son of a bitch to a pul-"

"No, Rafe, I'm not hurt. Not physically, at least." You shook your head, forcing out your voice in the most pathetic tone you could possible mimic. Rafe frowned in response as he noticed the way your head hung low and eyes stayed glued to the ground.

"What did he say to you?" Rafe softly asked, approaching you with caution and ease as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing a familiar sense of butterflies to errupt and flutter around in your stomach.

"He just brought up a bunch of stuff about my family and called me a traitor for spending time with you. For being with you, basically." Your vision became blurry as tears clouded your view, unsure of how they got there, but you mentally applauded yourself for such a performance.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. C'mere." Rafe cooed sympathetically as he pulled you into his arms tightly, possibly the tightest embrace you've felt in your life, but in a sense it felt good to be held like that. Like nothing in the world could hurt you while you were wrapped up in Rafe Cameron's arms, as insane as it sounded to you.

Your body relaxed in his arms, eyes closing as you soaked up every bit of his warmth. You nearly hummed in such delight before stopping yourself, not wanting to feed into Rafe's ego more than you already were just by calling him over for help. But it did feel nice, a feeling that came as a shock to you.

"I wanna get out of here, Rafe. Please." You sniffled, looking up at the brooding figure with those sad puppy-dog eyes that could make any man melt in your hands.

"Of course. Do you want to come back to my place? You can spend the night with me if you don't feel like going home."

You shook your head, "I don't wanna go home, especially not like this. Are you sure it's okay if I stay with you tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah 'course it is. Besides, my dad probably wont be back tonight and Rose and Wheezie are with him so I'll need the company. I'd prefer yours over theirs anyways." Rafe flashed you a small smile, hoping to diminish the frown that clouded your features as he rubbed your forearms gently.

You trailed behind Rafe on the walk to the car, watching as he held the door open and gestured your inside. You gave him a weak simper and a head nod as a symbolism of your gratitude at his sentiment. You'd be a liar if you said it didn't make your heart flutter at how caring and gentle he was being towards you, but you cursed yourself for the fact that it was all because of a lie.

"Y/n?" Rafe asked, snapping you out of your trance while you gazed out of the window.

"Yeah?"

"You aren't upset with me for earlier, are you?" He inquired, biting the inside of his cheek.

"No, why would I be?" You tilted your head, brows furrowed as you made eye contact with the blue-eyed Kook.

"I don't know. I guess I just thought you seemed a little dry when I was dropping you off earlier, s'all." Rafe coughed out, noticing how he scratched the back of his head as he spoke feebly.

"Oh, I see." You blinked, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come off that way. I've just been a little tired I guess."

"No, don't apologize. It's okay." He turned his head, taking his eyes off the road for a split second to reassure you with a thin-lipped smile. You observed as he clutched the steering wheel, veins ostensibly poking through along his arms and hands in a way that made your thighs clench together tightly. You gulped silently in an attempt to restrain yourself and regain composure - this was Rafe Cameron you were talking about. Yet on the other hand, despite his vainglorious ways and haughty sense-of-self, inhis eyes, a flicker of mischief dances amidst shadows, a daring tale waiting to unfold. He was the embodiment of defiance, a canvas of contradictions where danger and allure converge in captivating disarray. You found yourself ensnared by the gravity of his presence, a force that pulled your world into his magnetic orbit. You could keep reminding yourself to run away from him, but where would you go to hide? He was everywhere, from the depths of your mind, to every turning corner of Figure 8.

You made it back to the Cameron's residence before you knew it, perhaps too caught up in the thought of Rafe to realize what was happening around you. However, once the car came to a halt and your surroundings stopped moving, reality soon greeted you once again.

You hopped out of the car, following behind Rafe like a lost puppy who didn't know where it was. You felt out of place, and a bit on edge. You wondered if your friends were okay, praying that your decoy tactics were doing them good. The other half of your nerves came from the fact that you were doing something that went against your moral code, and challenged your ability to lie to the face of someone you.. Care about?

"Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea, a soda?" Rafe asked, making his way to the kitchen with you in close pursuit.

"I'm good." You passed off his offer with a half-hearted laugh and a weak smile. As you watched him, the ambient light of the fridge casted a soft glow on his silhouette. His movements were casual, effortless, as he navigated the contents in search of a drink. The way he tilted his head slightly, the lines of his profile against the cool light—it’s a fleeting portrait etched into your memory. You found yourself caught in the simplicity of the moment, the way his fingers grazed the chilled bottles, his easy familiarity with the space. There was something mesmerizing about the way he handled the mundane, turning the ordinary into a scene worth cherishing. It was as though time slowed, encapsulating this small interaction, making it feel like an eternity. A smile tugged at your lips as you observed, captivated by his presence. The faint hum of the fridge was a backdrop to the symphony of your thoughts, all centered around this magnetic figure before you. In that unguarded moment, as he stood there unaware, he became the focal point of your world, drawing you deeper into the allure of his ordinary yet enchanting actions.

"Didn't realize I had an audience," he chuckled, catching you watching him with an amused glint in his eye. There was a playful energy in his tone, a sense that he knew he had inadvertently drawn your attention.

Leaning casually against the kitchen counter, he exuded a relaxed confidence. "If watching me rummage through the fridge becomes a regular show, I might have to start selling tickets," he teased, trying to lighten the moment but also displaying a subtle curiosity about what had captured your interest. His ego slowly peaking through, as usual.

"Oh, absolutely riveting," you retorted, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words as you met his amused gaze. "Your fridge exploration was the highlight of my day, truly." Your lips curved into a wry smile, eyes dancing with playful mockery.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes softening as he met your gaze. "You know, watching you watch me... it's kind of different," he began, his voice a touch softer, a hint of vulnerability slipping through his usual ease.

"I mean, it's not every day someone looks at me like... well, like that," he admitted, the words stumbling out with a hint of uncertainty. His gaze briefly faltered, a struggle evident within him as if battling between speaking his mind and holding back.

But before he could continue, he stopped himself abruptly, a shadow of hesitation crossing his features. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make things weird. Forget I said anything," he deflected, a faint tinge of regret coloring his words as he tried to backtrack, a sudden unease settling over him.

As he hesitated, you caught the shift in his demeanor, a glimpse of something vulnerable beneath his usual confidence. "No, don't," you interjected softly, reaching out to gently touch his hand, your eyes imploring him to continue. "Please, whatever you were going to say... I want to hear it."

In that suspended moment of vulnerability, he gathered the courage to speak what had been on his mind for far too long. "I... I've always felt something different around you," he confessed, his voice softer than a whisper, carrying the weight of unspoken emotions.

"It's not just the way you look at me, but... how you make me feel," he continued, his gaze locking with yours, each word chosen with care, as if he was navigating uncharted territory. "There's this warmth, this comfort that settles in whenever you're near." He paused, the air thick with anticipation, his heart pounding against the cage of his chest. He struggled to find the right words to express the depth of what he felt, a mixture of fear and longing flickering in his eyes.

But as the moment hung between them, poised on the edge of revelation, he stopped himself once more, the weight of his unspoken feelings heavy upon him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," he murmured, a flicker of uncertainty clouding his features as he withdrew, fearing he might have crossed a line.

You were stunned, his words piercing through the air, carrying a weight you hadn't expected. Your heart fluttered in response, a mix of surprise and a tinge of something deeper stirring within you.

"I never realized," you breathed out, your voice trembling slightly, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside. His confession had caught you off guard, unraveling a part of your own feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.

"There's always been this... something," you confessed, your words coming out in a rush, a newfound realization taking hold. "A connection, a pull towards you that I couldn't quite define."

Yet, before you could explore this uncharted territory further, you sensed his hesitation, his retreat from the vulnerable moment you had both stepped into. The abruptness left you reeling, an unspoken ache lingering in the charged air between you.

"I didn't mean to make it awkward," you murmured, regret coloring your tone as you witnessed his uncertainty. The unspoken sentiments hung heavy, a silent conversation begging to be continued, the depth of emotions left unexplored.

In the hush of that moment, you found yourselves locked in a silent exchange. His gaze, an ocean of depths, met yours with an unwavering intensity, drawing you in like a force. You perched on the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface beneath you, as he closed the distance, a dance of proximity that felt almost orchestrated by fate.

Closer, step by deliberate step, until the air crackled with an unspoken tension. Rafe's presence enveloped you, a shield from the outside world, as if the space around you had collapsed into a world of its own. You felt his warmth seep through the inches that separated you, a silent harmony of shared breaths.

In that suspended moment, time seemed to stand still. Your breaths mingled, creating a delicate rhythm of anticipation. His hand moved with a tenderness that spoke volumes, gently enclosing you within the confines of that intimate space.

And as his closeness eclipsed the distance between you, your eyes locked in a silent conversation, saying things that mere words couldn't articulate. The world outside faded into insignificance as the universe shrank to just the two of you, suspended in a timeless embrace of unspoken longing.

Your breath hitched, Rafe's minty-breath fanning over your skin as his lips lingered a few inches from your face. You felt a flutter in your chest as his eyes bore into yours, each glance a revelation, unraveling layers of unspoken emotions. In the depth of his stare, you sensed a vulnerability, a longing that mirrored your own.

Before you had time to think, his lips connected with yours, passionately but with a delicacy that made it seem like if he pushed too far, you would break. You took in his affection, pulling him in by the back of his neck as he hungrily devoured the cherry lip balm off of your glossy lips. Rafe kept the pace slow, but his movements were eager and greedy for more of you. His large hands trailing up your open thighs, stopping at your hips as he gripped them and squeezed at them lightly.

You moaned into his mouth as you longed for more of him, a testimate you figured you'd regret doing later, but in that moment, you needed him, and he knew it.

Rafe responded with a smirk against your lips, letting out a deep, low chuckle from the bottom of his throat that sent tingles down your spine. You arched your body towards his, caving into his touch and practically begging for more. You weren't exactly sure why you were so taken over by such feeling of lust, but you wouldn't dare brush it off.

"God, I love you." Rafe groaned, murmuring his words against your neck yet they came out plain as day. Your eyes, previously shut as you took in the bliss of what you were experiencing, now shot wide open and you stared ahead.

"You.. What?" You stammered on your words as your throat seemingly went dry.

In the wake of his sudden admission, you were left speechless, the air heavy with the unexpected weight of his confession. His words lingered in the space between you, a revelation that seemed to have shifted the very ground beneath your feet.

You looked at him, shock etched in your features, mirrored in the stunned expression on his face. In that suspended moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you, a shared astonishment at the sudden revelation.

Time seemed to halt, the air thick with a mix of emotions, leaving you both stranded in an uncomfortable silence. His confession hung in the air, and you found yourself grappling with a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings, trying to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

The shock of his abrupt admission left you reeling, unsure of how to respond, as if the ground beneath your feet had shifted. The air crackled with a charged tension, a profound moment that had unexpectedly unfolded between you, leaving you both standing at the precipice of an uncertain new chapter.

"Y/n-I... It was the heat of the moment." He was lying right through his teeth.

"Rafe you don't say those things because of 'the heat of the moment'." You stated, face still covered in shock.

"I know, I know," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and sincerity, attempting to backpedal. "But sometimes... things just spill out, you know?"

You looked at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and uncertainty, the shock still painted across your features. "You don't say those things because of 'the heat of the moment'," you stated firmly, your voice carrying a weight of conviction.

He met your gaze, his eyes searching for a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of emotions. "I guess... I might have gotten carried away," he admitted, a hint of remorse coloring his words. "But that doesn't mean I don't mean it, Y/n."

His attempt to retract his words faltered in the face of your unwavering response, leaving an uncomfortable tension hanging between you, the unspoken truth lingering in the air, too palpable to be ignored.

"I messed up, saying it like that," Rafe sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone as he struggled to express himself. "But the truth is, I've been feeling this way for a while now."

You watched him, the shock slowly morphing into a mix of confusion and a glimmer of curiosity. "Rafe, why now? Why like this?" you questioned, seeking clarity in the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed both of you.

He hesitated, searching for the right words, a turbulent storm brewing in his thoughts. "I didn't plan it, it just happened," he confessed, a sense of urgency in his voice. "But... being around you, it's like discovering something I didn't know I needed. And I don't want to pretend otherwise."

The vulnerability in his admission hung in the air, an unspoken plea for understanding and a hint of desperation to convey what he truly felt. The intensity of the moment lingered, a raw and unfiltered exchange leaving you both exposed, suspended in a realm of unresolved emotions.

The sudden confession left you reeling, a storm of conflicting thoughts raging within. His words echoed in your mind, but beneath the shock, a sense of unease crept in. You couldn't ignore the inconvenient truth—you had approached him under false pretenses, a lie woven into the fabric of your interactions.

As his feelings spilled out, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the right time. Guilt tugged at your conscience, reminding you that your connection with him was built on a shaky foundation. How could you entertain the possibility of reciprocating his feelings when the truth had been veiled behind a facade?

His sincerity clashed with the dishonesty looming over your encounters. The weight of regret settled heavy on your shoulders, wishing for an alternate reality where honesty could pave the way for genuine emotions to blossom.

Amidst the tumult of emotions, you grappled with the turmoil of regret, longing for a different circumstance where the truth could guide the course of your connection with him.

"Rafe.. you don't know what you're saying." You shook your head, voice quiet as your head hung low while guilt proceeded you.

"But I know how I feel, Y/n."

He watched you, a sense of helplessness clouding his features as he realized the weight of his confession. "I get it if this is too much, too soon," he murmured, a mix of sincerity and a hint of pleading in his voice. "I just needed you to know."

There was a pang of regret in his chest, knowing that his impulsive admission might have pushed things too far, too quickly. He hoped for understanding, for a chance to rectify the situation, but the gravity of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving an uncertain tension between you both.

"Rafe, please.. Don't do this." You continued shaking your head at him, your body deterring his words away from you.

Rafe’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a mix of remorse and a longing to make things right. "I didn't mean to make things complicated," he said, his voice laced with regret as he recognized the distress in your plea.

"I'll back off, I promise," he assured, a sense of resignation coloring his words. "I'll give you space, whatever you need."

He took a step back, giving you a gentle nod as if to affirm his commitment to respecting your wishes. Though the weight of his unspoken feelings lingered, he understood the importance of honoring your request, his regret palpable in the ache of the unspoken words he left hanging in the air.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Rafe. I just - I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."

Rafe's features softened once more, a glint of understanding in his eyes as he absorbed your words. "I hear you," he replied softly, a tinge of regret lacing his voice. "Maybe I jumped the gun."

He took a step closer, a reassuring gesture without encroaching on your space. "I get it, Y/n. I don't want to complicate things for you," he acknowledged, a sense of empathy coloring his words. "I'll... figure it out."

There was a lingering sadness in his eyes, a realization that the depth of his feelings might have inadvertently disrupted the delicate balance. He offered a faint, understanding smile, silently conveying his acceptance of your decision while grappling with the weight of unspoken sentiments swirling within him.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, the turmoil of emotions swirling within you as you watched Rafe navigate the complexities of the moment. There was a pang of empathy mixed with a tinge of regret, knowing that his heartfelt confession had collided with a reality too intricate to unravel.

His genuine vulnerability struck a chord within you, the sincerity in his eyes a poignant reminder of the depth of his feelings. Despite the complexities, there was an undeniable longing in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding.

Yet, amidst the ache, you held firm, knowing that conceding to the whirlwind of emotions might only deepen the intricate web you both found yourselves entangled in. The ache in your chest was a silent testament to the conflicting desires to both embrace and pull away from the vulnerability that lay bare between you.

With a gentle resolve in your voice, you offered a solution to diffuse the tension hanging in the air. "I'm going to go to bed. I'll sleep in the guest room if you'd like for me to," you softly stated, your gaze fixed on Rafe, awaiting his response.

Rafe met your gaze, a mix of gratitude and regret flickering in his eyes. "I appreciate that," he replied quietly, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "But you don't have to do that. You can take my room; I'll take the guest."

There was a sense of mutual understanding in his response, a tacit acknowledgment of the unspoken boundaries between you. As you turned to leave, a bittersweet atmosphere lingered, the weight of unresolved emotions hanging in the air, leaving both of you to navigate the uncharted territories of unspoken sentiments.

Your heart urged you to offer more, to say something that could alleviate the heaviness in the room, yet words eluded you. You wished to ease the ache in Rafe's eyes, to erase the tension that had woven its way between you both.

But the weight of the moment held you captive, words caught in the tangled threads of conflicting emotions. You longed to express understanding, to mend the rift caused by the unexpected turn of events, but the complexity of the situation left you grappling with the silence.

With a heavy sigh and a lingering gaze, you retreated, knowing that sometimes the silence spoke louder than any words you could muster, and hoping that time might offer a balm to heal the unspoken wounds that lingered between you and Rafe.

As you made your way to Rafe's room, guilt weighed heavy on your shoulders, each step a reminder of the tangled web of emotions you found yourself entwined in. The faint echo of your own footsteps seemed to resonate with the uncertainty that clouded your mind.

Slipping under the covers, the warmth of the room offered little comfort against the turmoil within. You couldn't shake off the guilt, a relentless companion that followed you into the darkness. The sheets felt colder than usual, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

Lying there, your thoughts tangled in a maze of regret, you replayed the events of the evening, questioning the choices that led to this poignant moment. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Sleep remained elusive, your mind restless, grappling with the repercussions of your actions. The guilt lingered as a constant reminder of the complexities that now defined the fragile dynamics between you and Rafe.

As the night ebbed away, the soft hues of dawn painted the sky, signaling the arrival of a new day. You descended the stairs, a faint unease lingering from the events of the previous evening, unsure of what the morning would bring.

At the foot of the staircase, you were met with Rafe, his presence an unexpected yet anticipated encounter. There was an awkward tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unresolved emotions that hung between you both.

"Morning," Rafe greeted, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, the weight of the unspoken words from the night before lingering in the air.

"Morning," you replied softly, the air heavy with an unspoken understanding, a palpable sense of discomfort threading through the atmosphere.

There was an unspoken agreement to navigate the morning with cautious steps, each movement tinged with the residue of the unresolved emotions that lingered between you. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, leaving both of you searching for a semblance of normalcy in the midst of the palpable awkwardness.

"I'm gonna head back to the chateau in a few, JJ said he wants to talk to me," you mentioned, trying to break the palpable tension hanging in the air.

Rafe's laughter was dry, a strained sound that echoed in the room, a stark contrast to the ease that once defined your interactions. "Seems like he's got a lot to talk about these days," he remarked, a hint of bitterness seeping into his words.

You sensed the unease in his tone, a reflection of the awkwardness that enveloped the space between you. The weight of the unresolved emotions lingered, casting a shadow over the interaction, leaving the air heavy with unspoken sentiments.

The apology hung in the air, a quiet admission laden with the weight of remorse. "Rafe... I'm sorry, okay?" you uttered softly, the words an attempt to ease the strain that enveloped the space between you.

"Sure," Rafe replied, his tone notably drier, a touch of guardedness in his response. The weight of the situation lingered in the air, his words carrying a subtle hint of distance as he navigated the delicate balance between acceptance and reservation.

The conversation seemed to falter, leaving an uncomfortable silence that underscored the unspoken tension. Despite the attempt at reconciliation, there was a palpable hesitance in his demeanor, a reluctance to fully embrace the offered apology, adding another layer of complexity to the already strained atmosphere.

"I didn't say it because I don't care about you, Rafe," you asserted, hoping to clarify the sincerity behind your actions.

Rafe's response was more confrontational, his confusion apparent in his tone. "Then why?" he questioned, a hint of frustration seeping into his words. "It's just... it feels like nothing's adding up."

There was an edge to his demeanor, a palpable frustration stemming from the unresolved tension between you. The attempt at explanation seemed to only complicate matters further, leaving both of you grappling with the tangled web of emotions that refused to find resolution.

"Because I don't want you to get hurt," you explained, your voice soft yet firm, hoping to convey the underlying concern that had guided your actions.

Rafe's demeanor softened slightly, a flicker of surprise mingled with a trace of understanding in his expression. "Hurt?" he echoed, a hint of confusion still present but tempered by the sincerity in your words.

"Yeah," you continued, trying to articulate the protective instinct that fueled your choices. "Things are... complicated, and I didn't want to add to that."

There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere, an attempt to bridge the gap with honesty and concern, hoping to offer a glimpse into the complexities that had led to your decisions. The air, though still charged with tension, held a trace of empathy as you navigated the fragile balance between candor and reservation.

"Do you think I care if things are a little complicated, Y/n? My whole life has been complicated," Rafe responded, his voice carrying a mixture of resignation and a hint of frustration, a glimpse into the complexities he had grown accustomed to.

His words held a weight, a testament to the tumultuous experiences that had shaped his life. Despite the tension, there was a raw honesty in his admission, revealing the layers of complexities that had become intrinsic to his existence.

"Yeah, but it's me, Rafe. I'm a Pogue from the Cut, do you really want that? Your family probably has this whole plan set out for you to end up with a Kook, anyways," you expressed, a tinge of vulnerability woven into your words. "This, I, am way too complicated for your lifestyle. That's more weight than you could bear."

Your words carried the weight of societal expectations and the stark contrast between your worlds. The lines drawn by society's standards seemed insurmountable, adding layers of complexity to an already intricate situation. You highlighted the disparity between your backgrounds, emphasizing the potential burden it might pose for Rafe, intertwining concern for his well-being with an understanding of the societal barriers dividing you.

"I don't care, Y/n. I don't care what they have to say because I care about you. Why can't you just accept that?" Rafe's voice carried a raw honesty, his words cutting through the barriers of societal expectations.

Your heart skipped a beat at his unwavering declaration. "Because it's not that simple, Rafe," you replied softly, your voice laced with a mix of emotions. "There's so much more at stake than just us. Just trust me on this. Please."

"Y/n, please just listen to me. It doesn't have to be this way. We can make it work, whatever I have to do, I'll do it," Rafe pleaded, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency and determination.

You met his earnest gaze, torn between the desire to believe in his words and the weight of the obstacles you both faced. "Rafe, it's not that simple," you murmured, the turmoil evident in your tone. "There are things beyond our control, things that won't just change because we want them to."

The ache in your chest mirrored the conflict in your mind, the yearning to embrace his offer battling against the harsh realities that seemed to impose barriers between you.

The scene unfolded before you, and you witnessed the subtle tremble in Rafe's lip, a poignant display of the emotions he struggled to contain. Sorrow etched into the depths of his eyes, a vulnerable expression that laid bare the depth of his feelings.

Your heart wrenched at the sight, a surge of empathy flooding through you as you recognized the pain reflected in his gaze. The weight of the situation bore heavily on him, and the turmoil within him was palpable, painting a picture of raw vulnerability and unspoken longing.

Despite the complexities that stood between you both, the silent plea in his eyes tugged at your own emotions, evoking a whirlwind of conflicting sentiments that left you grappling with the ache of shared sorrow and the unyielding barriers that seemed to divide you.

"I need you, Y/n," Rafe's voice was tinged with desperation, a raw plea that echoed in the room, laying bare the depth of his emotions.

"I've got to go, Rafe," you whispered, your voice laden with sorrow, each word a painful admission of the necessity to part ways despite the shared longing.

Walking out of Rafe's house, tears blurred your vision, emotions swirling within as you grappled with the weight of the encounter. As you stepped outside, your friend Kiara awaited in the car, a knowing look in her eyes that spoke volumes without a single word exchanged.

Kiara observed your tear-stained cheeks and pained expression, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and understanding. Without needing to speak, she unlocked the car doors, a silent invitation for you to seek solace in the comfort of her presence.

With a heavy heart, you slid into the passenger seat beside Kiara, the warmth of her presence offering a sense of solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions. The unspoken understanding between friends enveloped the space, allowing for a moment of silent companionship amid the storm of feelings that surged within.

"I did what you guys asked me," you stated flatly, the weight of your actions hanging heavily in the air, your voice tinged with resignation.

Kiara glanced at you, her expression a mix of concern and apprehension, recognizing the strain in your voice. "Are you okay?" she inquired softly, her tone laced with a gentle concern, understanding the difficulty of the task you'd undertaken for the sake of your friends.

You remained silent for a moment, the weight of the recent events settling heavily on your shoulders. "I will be," you finally replied, the words carrying a hint of uncertainty, as if unsure of the aftermath of your actions and the impact they might have on the intricate balance of your relationships.

The journey to the chateau was enveloped in silence, a heavy curtain of unspoken thoughts that draped the car's interior. Each passing moment seemed to stretch in the weight of the quiet, the air thick with unexpressed emotions that lingered between you and Kiara.

You fought to hold back the tears, a silent war raging within, the ache in your chest a testament to the depth of the emotions that surged beneath the surface. The weight of recent events bore heavily on you, and the silent car ride provided a fleeting refuge where tears threatened to breach the dam of your composure.

Despite your efforts, a lone tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek, a silent testament to the emotional storm that raged within. You discreetly wiped it away, hoping to shield your vulnerability, the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears weaving an intricate tapestry of inner turmoil.

The car rolled to a halt near the chateau's entrance, the engine's hum fading into the quiet ambiance of the estate. Kiara cast a glance your way, a wordless assurance conveyed through her eyes, a silent understanding that transcended the unspoken.

As you stepped out, the familiar sight of the chateau greeted you, its grandeur contrasting sharply with the weight of emotions carried within. The walk to the entrance felt longer than usual, each step echoing the turmoil within, the unspoken conversation hanging heavily between you and Kiara.

Approaching the door, the details of the chateau seemed to blur, your focus consumed by the emotional tempest raging within. With a deep breath, you turned the doorknob, the heavy wooden door creaking softly as it opened to welcome you inside.

Stepping into the foyer, the chateau enveloped you, the coolness of the air offering a stark contrast to the warmth of the emotional turmoil within.

As your friends turned to greet you, their expectant smiles faltered into a puzzled expression as they registered the turmoil etched on your face. Their eyes mirrored a blend of confusion and concern, a stark contrast to the jovial atmosphere that typically enveloped their gatherings.

A fleeting moment passed, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken as your friends exchanged glances, a silent communication that conveyed their awareness of the unspoken turmoil lingering beneath the surface. The chapter's end was marked by the unspoken tension, leaving an uncertain ambiance that hung between you, hinting at the complexities awaiting their reckoning.

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrapap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols

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cactus-cuddler · 9 months ago

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Chapter 1: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

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word count: 1,1 k

plot: You work in a small bar but you don't like your job, you don't feel safe and the uniform you are forced to wear doesn't help.

One day, during one of your shifts, a mysterious man comes in asking you for the most alcoholic drink you sell. After glass after glass you decide to stop him, your heart's too big to watch a man get drunk in the sunlight.

With your kindness and your sweetness you will little by little penetrate the heart of this man who will decide to become the bodyguard of the bar where you work just to protect you from other men, no one knows like a man what they are capable of doing.

warnings: nothing for now

ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ <3

You are behind the bar at your workplace, dressed in a skirt that falls above your knees and a matching blouse, both in a pale red. Working closely with an almost entirely male clientele while dressed this way makes you feel uncomfortable. But quitting isn’t an option; finding another job now would be too difficult, and you need the income.

The bar is empty, and with no customers in sight, you sit on a chair behind the counter and open a book you brought with you for moments like this. The doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of a customer. You stand up, smile on your lips, and look towards the entrance. A tall, imposing man with a serious expression enters, dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, a glove on his left hand, and dark jeans.

“Good morning! What can I get for you?” you ask cordially. He sits at the bar, and his expression remains unchanged.

“Give me the strongest alcohol you have,” he demands in a rude tone, with an anger he’s trying to suppress. You hand him the drink without comment. It’s eleven in the morning, and it seems unusual to be drinking so early, but you simply follow his orders. He asks for four more drinks, and now you are serving him the fifth. He takes the glass, downs it in one gulp, and asks for a sixth. You try to stop him, feeling that he has reached his limit, and you were never taught to stay quiet while others ruin themselves.

“Bring me another one, or I’ll go to another bar!” he exclaims angrily. The alcohol has taken its toll, and he’s no longer fully conscious. His mind is clouded, and his vision is growing blurry. You hand him a glass of water.

“I know this isn’t what you asked for, but drink some water and wait until you recover,” you tell him, smiling sweetly to gain his trust.

"The more I try to hurt myself the more I find someone with a heart trying to stop me" he tells you chuckling. He drinks the water, and you observe him closely, trying to decide if you should ask him more about himself. Isn't this the first time he's tried to hurt himself?

He doesn’t seem willing to share, so you leave it for now, though his words have left a troubling impression on you.

As rush hour arrives, more people start coming into the bar, and the man is still there, watching you work. You move back and forth, serving tables, receiving unsolicited compliments, and collecting tips. When all the tables are served, you take a short break to wipe the sweat off your face. At the end of your shift, your colleague Megan arrives to take over. She is a tall woman with brown hair who is not as kind to customers and has no qualms about serving excessive amounts of alcohol, even encouraging men to drink more. But the boy from earlier, still sitting at the bar, you don’t want anything bad to happen to him. From his words, you sense that if he gets completely drunk, he might do something reckless.

“There’s a guy on the balcony, the one with the glove on his left hand. Please stop him if he tries to drink too much; he can handle up to five glasses. I’m not sure beyond that,” you warn Megan. She looks you up and down, chewing her gum.

“I can’t promise anything,” she replies.

You exit through the back door reserved for employees, donning a light cardigan over your uniform, and head briskly towards home. Your small studio apartment is in a building with a gruff landlord who complains if you’re even a day late with the rent. You can’t help but think about the boy from the bar; his words in a moment of weakness have stuck with you, and you feel guilty for leaving him in Megan’s care. You have some instant noodles for lunch and try to distract yourself by reading a few pages of your book, but before you know it, it’s almost time for your next shift. You put your uniform back on, spritz some perfume, and head back to the bar.

“Sorry for the delay!” you tell Megan breathlessly.

“It’s fine,” she reassures you. “That guy asked about you as soon as you left. I told him your schedule. I hope you don’t mind; I thought you were interested. His name is Bucky. I heard him talking on the phone,” she says with a wink before leaving, and your shift officially begins. Knowing that he asked for you as soon as you left makes you smile unconsciously, and you start your shift in a better mood than usual, even humming the notes of your favorite song while you clean the bar and wash the dishes.

The bar is quiet, and everyone is served, so you sit down in a chair and read. After a quarter of an hour, the bar is empty, and you hear the bell announcing a new customer. It’s Bucky. As he enters, you’re filling the fridge, and upon seeing him, you greet him with a friendly smile. He doesn’t know that you’re aware he asked Megan about your schedule.

He sits in the same spot as before, with the same cold expression.

“The same alcohol as before, please,” he requests before you can ask him.

As more people enter, including groups of kids, some elderly ladies, and others who have come to socialize, you serve them all under Bucky’s watchful eye. He only asks for another drink when he sees you’re not busy. You appreciate customers like that.

By eight in the evening, the bar is empty, knowing it will start to fill up again after nine. Bucky is still there, and after the fourth drink, you tell him to take a break.

“You shouldn’t be so nice to people who don’t deserve it,” he says, sipping the glass of water you offered him.

“It’s not about kindness. If you get drunk, I’d be in danger too,” you reply, giggling and looking at him.

“I haven’t touched a woman in years. I don’t think I’d start now.”

“Better not to find out. How come such an attractive man hasn’t touched a woman in so long?” you tease him, having given up on focusing solely on your own thoughts.

“How come such a pretty girl works in a place like this?” he counters, hitting the mark. You giggle and put your hands up in surrender.

After half an hour, the mysterious man pays for his drinks and leaves a generous tip.

“Thanks for your company, pretty girl,” he says as he departs, making your heart race.

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loki-cees-all · 1 year ago

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Ch. 1 - Against the Wall {Against All Odds - TVA!Loki x Female Reader Longfic}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : The first interrogation of X-5 doesn’t go as planned, and Loki needs to blow off some steam. He returns to 1977 for a drink, and discovers that not only have his actions have left you abandoned by your date to his movie premiere - but it’s also your birthday.

Thankfully, Loki knows just how to solve both of your problems.

W/c : 4.4k words

Content Warnings : Smut, p-in-v, semi-public sex, strangers to lovers, ruffled tuxedo appreciation

Author's Note : This one is dedicated to my beloved and beautiful friend @infinitystoner as part of our Glorious Birthday Bash. Our ask boxes are open, so get those questions in!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Loki was absolutely seething. The Hunter X-5 - Brad, or whatever he wanted to be called, was not just uncooperative in answering their questions about General Dox’s plans - he was a complete asshole about it. And even though they knew he would be, it was still impressive just how quickly he managed to rattle all three of them and completely derail the interrogation.

It was enough to make Loki afraid that he was losing his touch, that his edges had softened too much. But after the catastrophic events he’d endured over the past few months, what else could he expect?

After leaving the interrogation room with Mobius and B-15, Loki had stormed away, his eyes blazing with fury and his fists clenching until his knuckles were white. He just needed a moment to calm himself down, to regain control of his emotions.

Truthfully, what he needed was a break, to relieve some tension and come back to his problems with a clear head. If only everything would just stop trying to implode for five minutes, he might be able to do that. But the weight of everything he needed to fix was slowly crushing him to death instead.

And that asshole thought it necessary to throw the death of Frigga in his face and call him a villain - all in the same breath. The audacity, the nerve of that man to speak to him like that - when genuinely, truthfully and in every sense of the word, Loki was only trying to fix, not harm.

Loki pushed himself further down the endless corridors of the TVA, and the anger radiating through his skin alerted the unassuming TVA employees to continue minding their own business as they slinked past him. Loki’s heavy footsteps echoed off the pristine floors and elegant walls, and he foolishly thought that maybe they’d take the hint and turn around to take a different path towards their destination. But just as soon as he would find himself alone in the hallway, another one would appear, and Loki’s rage would elevate just a little bit more.

Norns, was there nowhere to even think in this place?!

Soon, Loki found himself in another alcove with another elevator, that inevitably led to another floor with even more corridors and TVA employees who were just trying to do their jobs in the face of a Temporal Loom meltdown and total destruction. It wasn’t their fault; it was the only thing they knew how to do.

There had to be an exit around here somewhere - a courtyard, or a sidewalk, or something - any place Loki could go and not be reminded of all of this. But how long would it take him to find it?

Too long. And more likely than not, a new crisis would emerge before he could even reach it.

As he paced back and forth across the granite floor, Loki’s hands alternated between raking through his hair, clenching at his sides, and resting on his hips. His mind raced uncontrollably, and his chest heaved to keep enough oxygen mixing with the blood flowing through his veins. He was starting to feel trapped, doomed, cursed.

Loki took a deep breath to steady himself, and as he closed his eyes, his thoughts shifted to the beautiful woman he’d seen earlier that evening. Her stylish dress, pale amber and loosely cinched around her waist, had been far too enchanting to be wasted on a date to a silly movie premiere. She was much too good to be on Brad’s arm for the evening, and Loki wondered if he had even bothered to learn her name…

But ultimately, it didn’t matter. Loki didn’t have the time or the space to clear his head, and he certainly didn’t have the time to waste on thoughts of a woman he’d never see again. He was just going to have to carry on, to power through the stress and brain fog and dread, like he’d always done.

Resigning himself to return from where he came, Loki shoved his hands in the pockets of his pea coat and turned on his heels to head back to Mobius and B-15 and the interrogation of Brad. But he stopped as his fingers brushed against something, and his brow furrowed as he pulled the TemPad out of his pocket.

Loki couldn’t remember how or when it got there. He turned it over in his hands carefully, running his fingertips across its smooth edges and polished wood grain as he considered his options.

With this, he could easily find a place to think, and he could return just moments after he left the interrogation room. And with the branches of the Sacred Timeline already diverging wildly out of control, no one would ever know he had left.

Loki quickly glanced over his shoulders to make sure he was alone, and he flipped the top screen of the TemPad open. The previous coordinates were still typed in, still active.

All he had to do was press a single button and walk through the Time Door. In another moment or two, he could return to the Zaniac premiere and finally have the drink he so desperately needed.

And maybe Brad’s date would be willing to share that drink with him…

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Date : June 18th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

This was not how you thought your birthday would turn out.

Dressed to the nines, after hours in the salon chair getting your hair done and days of planning your outfit down to the perfume kissing the insides of your wrists - all so you could be abandoned by that jackass before the showing of his film even started.

What made it worse was you didn’t even want to be here tonight, with this Brad Wolfe - a man no one had ever heard of before six months ago but was suddenly basking in the spotlight of directors clamoring to hire him and starlets begging to be seen with him.

You could have been out with your friends celebrating your birthday, but your agent had insisted that this would be much better for your career; he was definitely going to be getting a very unpleasant phone call in the morning.

After Brad disappeared, you sat yourself at the bar and ordered a drink; it was less humiliating than the press seeing you alone inside the theater, which would have surely been the only headline in tomorrow morning’s paper.

You briefly thought about calling your friends to meet up at The Roxy, which had been the initial plan for the evening, but ultimately decided against it. Nothing could salvage the evening now; maybe you’d have better luck next year.

The ice from your second drink had all but melted, and after the leftover contents were consumed, you were ready to get out of there. The exciting climax of the movie would be happening soon, and once again the lobby would be swarming with press and London’s finest celebrities, not to mention Brad - who had probably found another woman to have clinging to his arm during the film. You didn’t need to see that.

As you thanked the bartender with a warm smile and placed a generous tip in his jar, your thoughts returned to the two men Brad had been talking to just before he disappeared. One of the men, the older gentleman, seemed pleased as punch to be there, but the other one - the tall, dark and devastatingly handsome one - seemed like he’d rather be literally anywhere else; it was exactly how you felt about this ridiculous event.

And God was that scowl on his face sexy; but then again, everything about him was positively delicious. His piercing green eyes had threatened to set the room ablaze as he looked around the room, and when he wasn’t scowling, he was smirking.

It was a very confident smirk, and he deserved to have it. He certainly knew how to wear a tuxedo, and you were sure he looked even better underneath it.

Just thinking about it was enough to make your heart race, and the warmth of arousal was beginning to unfurl itself in your core. It was too bad the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen had left already; perhaps you would head to The Roxy after all, to find someone to take you home tonight…

“Leaving so soon?”

Your breath faltered as you turned to see him standing next to you. He looked exquisite - casually leaned against the bar, one ankle crossed over the other, and one hand in his pocket as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that he had appeared so suddenly and he was looking right at you.

“I suppose that depends on whether something exciting is about to happen here,” you replied with a shrug and met his inquisitive expression with one of your own.

The man chuckled and cleared his throat as he turned his attention to the rows of liquor displayed behind the bar. “And I suppose you wouldn’t think helping me decide on a drink would be very exciting…”

His voice was smooth as silk - polished and refined, and it made everything he wasn’t saying so much more intense. You could see his eyes in the mirror behind the bar, hungrily roaming up and down your form as he paused, and you knew he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do tonight.

And when he turned back to look at you, it was like you were the only other person in existence, like you were the only thing that mattered. “…or would you find that exciting?”

That look was sinful, intoxicating, teasing. It made you forget all about wanting to get out of there before the movie ended. It made you want to do anything to keep his attention, and so you sat back down on the barstool and crossed your legs as you leaned closer to him.

“Surely a classy man such as yourself knows what he likes to drink?” you replied, hoping he enjoyed being teased as much as he enjoyed teasing.

The man laughed again and shook his head with a charming smile on his perfectly-crafted face. If you didn’t know any better, you would have believed a God had sculpted his features with a careful and delicate hand, that only something majestic could have styled the dark curls on his head. He was perfect, and you were dying for him to ruin you.

“Well, I’ll be honest - I just wanted to know what you were drinking, so I could invite you to have another with me.”

He didn’t wait for a response, and immediately unbuttoned the jacket of his tuxedo as he sat down next to you. His long legs were splayed wide as he gazed at you, and he had the kind of thighs you wanted to sink your teeth in.

The white shirt underneath the jacket was stark white and perfectly pressed, save the ruffles running vertically from his throat to his waist. There weren’t too many men that could pull off that look with the same confidence and charm, and you found yourself wondering who he was and what he did for a living.

He had to work in the entertainment industry - fashion, maybe? Another actor? You wanted to know everything about him, from where he grew up to how many different ways he could make your toes curl.

“What a clever, classy pick-up line. I’m truly impressed,” you murmured playfully as you beckoned the bartender over.

The man narrowed his eyes, and his perfect lips curved into a teasing smirk. “I believe it worked, did it not?”

You shrugged innocently, bringing your fingertips to fondle the necklace dangling around your neck. His gaze followed your fingers with a hungry expression, and he opened his mouth to say something else when the bartender interrupted to take your order.

“Yes, me and my new friend…” you paused and tilted your head at him, a silent plea for the man to finally introduce himself.

His expression shifted briefly to uncertainty, as if he wasn’t sure that he wanted to give you his name at all, before resuming his confident demeanor as he met your gaze once more. “Loki. Pleased to meet you.”

“A pair of Slow Screws for me and my new friend, Loki,” you smiled at the bartender before returning to your new companion for the evening. “That’s quite an interesting name, Loki. Scandinavian?”

“Something like that. And you’ve got quite an interesting drink order,” he replied, leaning closer and sliding his arm along the back of your chair. “Tell me - do you usually share Slow Screws with complete strangers?”

His voice was low and husky, vibrating at all the right frequencies and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. It took all of your willpower to not mount him on the spot.

“Only when it’s my birthday, and I’ve been abandoned by my jerk of a date,” you answered, though truthfully you were glad he disappeared if it meant you got to know this man a little better.

Loki’s brow twitched and he looked away; it was an odd reaction, one you hadn’t anticipated. Did Loki know something about why Brad had left, and was he not expecting you to bring it up?

The bartender returned with your drinks, and you were grateful for something else to focus on for the moment. Freshly-squeezed orange juice and gin swirled around the tall glass as you brought it to your lips and took a not-so dainty sip.

Loki glanced over and smiled as he followed suit, then set his glass down and began tapping the bar-top with his long and surely skilled fingers. “You know I, um…was speaking with your date earlier, and I promise he didn’t ditch you. Something very important had come up, and…”

Loki glanced over at you again, his green eyes sparkling as if a thousand distant worlds were burning up inside them. He had an unparalleled mysterious aura around him, like the weight of the entire world was resting on his broad shoulders.

“If he sent you here to keep me company in his stead…” you interrupted, brushing your fingers across the back of his hand as he tapped mindlessly on the bar-top. “…then I’m glad he left.”

That seemed to be enough to make him forget about all of his earlier troubles, and a confident smile graced his features once more. “Well, I couldn’t leave a beautiful woman all alone on her birthday, now could I?”

Loki rotated his hand underneath yours, and his fingertips lightly traced along your inner wrist, sending your heart rate skyrocketing. He leaned closer to whisper against your ear. “So how does the birthday girl want to celebrate then, hmm?”

Your breath hitched, and it felt like the rest of the world stopped except for the two of you. You wanted to spend your evening dissolving into pleasure, screaming his name, breaking your bed - but this man clearly loved innuendos and teasing; it was foreplay for him, just as much as it was for you.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to try…a Slow Comfortable Screw Against The Wall,” you answered softly, knowing he would understand that you didn’t necessarily mean the drink.

Loki’s arm slipped around your chair once more, dragging his knuckles down the back of your arm. “Is that how you like it?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart thudded painfully in your chest. But it was worth it if it meant he’d do it, so you nodded as you bit your lower lip.

“Slow…and comfortable?” Loki continued, whispering softly and letting his lips brush against the cartilage of your ear.

Swallowing back a moan was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Your thighs pressed together, squeezing them against your already wet cunt and nodded again.

“What about against the wall? Do you like that too?” Loki brought his other hand up, tracing the angle of your jaw with his fingertips and turning your face closer to his.

Your lips parted as your nose brushed against his, and you silently pleaded for mercy. Your pussy was already throbbing and clenching around nothing, and if you didn’t get out of here soon, you were going to explode.

A simple yes was all you could manage, and Loki immediately took action. He pulled a few bills from his pocket and tossed them on the bar as he stood up, and you absolutely could not believe your luck - that he came back, that he wanted you, that he was going to take you exactly the way you wanted.

You quickly followed him to standing, and your knees almost buckled underneath the weight of the adrenaline and hormones carving their way through your veins. Loki placed his hand on your lower back and guided you swiftly through the crowd that had returned after the movie’s end.

And you didn’t even turn your head as you passed by reporters milling about in the lobby, wondering where the hell Brad Wolfe was.

As you stepped outside, Loki’s hand slipped from your waist to grab your hand and pull you after him. You thought he was going to lead you to a cab, but instead, he turned down the alleyway beside the theater.

“Wait - where are we going?” you giggled in anticipation as he squeezed your hand. Did he have his own vehicle parked somewhere back here?

Loki turned around and yanked you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist as he continued backing down the alleyway. “I’m giving the Birthday Girl what she asked for. Remember?” he murmured against your lips as his hands splayed wide on your hips.

You couldn’t take the wait any longer and crushed your lips against his. Loki’s groan was deep and powerful as he eagerly returned the kiss. His lips tasted like gin and lust, and his hands gripped you tightly, pulling you all the way against his body.

Your hands found the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, pulling on the material as you parted your lips around his. He eagerly slipped his tongue between them as he started to walk you backwards.

Loki towered over you, even with your heels on, and soon his lips were moving down to your neck, sucking on the delicate skin as his hands slid down to squeeze your ass. You gasped, and immediately started to unbutton his tuxedo jacket.

He hummed an approval against your neck, and his hands grasped your ass harder, making you grind your hips against his. “I thought the Birthday Girl wanted it slow and comfortable, hmm?”

“Changed my mind,” you whispered breathlessly, opening the jacket and untucking his shirt from his pants. “I need you now…”

Loki grinned as he pushed you against the wall, trapping you between the firm, cold bricks and his firm, warm body. “Ah, so you’re an impatient Birthday Girl,” he growled against your lips.

This new tone, so wild and animalistic compared to the opulent and sophisticated one he had used back at the bar, was more than enough to make you forget that you were in public, that he was a stranger, that if anyone saw this then your career would be over. But you were being driven by pure lust at this point, and nothing else mattered anymore.

Your lips met again, moving frantically against each other as your tongues and hips writhed together. It was incredible that your bodies and minds were already so in sync with each other - when you moaned against his lips, he’d groan against yours, and when you gasped, he’d exhale in a deep hum that threatened to drive you insane.

He pulled the strap of your dress down as you untied the knot of his bowtie and began to loosen the buttons of his shirt. Loki kissed his way down your neck and you arched into his touch, even as your hair snagged on the bricks behind you.

You quickly slipped your arm out of the strap, and Loki slid the top of your dress down to your waist, exposing your breasts. Your nipples hardened from arousal and the cold evening air, and Loki leaned down to take one between his lips. You moaned out loud in response, encouraging him to keep going as you spread your legs to grind against his thigh.

His tongue flicked against your stiff nipple as he sucked, and your fingers curled tightly in his hair as you hooked a leg around his waist. Your hips gyrated wildly against him, soothing your aching clit as you chased a release.

“Oh, yes. Keep going, love,” Loki groaned against your skin and shifted his hands to keep you balanced on one leg, gripping your hips tightly as he brought his face back up to yours.

He pushed his leg further between yours, watching eagerly as you continued grinding against his thigh. You gasped and moaned breathlessly, each one louder than the last as the alleyway faded away and all that remained was the stranger bringing you ethereal levels of pleasure.

“Yes, that’s it. Come for me, dear,” Loki rasped as he brought his lips over to your ear, and his teeth nipped at the cartilage as he spoke. “I’ll give you more - as many as you wish…”

You could barely hear him as blood pumped frantically through every vein and every nerve ending prepared to fire off, but it seemed as though he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. What a blessing this was - it was your birthday, and this man only wanted to make you come.

You gasped as your orgasm washed over you, sending endorphins and molten lava through your veins. Your fingers dug into his neck and shoulders, and your leg shook and wobbled as you died and reborn anew.

Loki moaned with you as you came, his hands grabbing your hips to keep them rolling against his thigh. Your eyes rolled back into your head and unintelligible whimpers of pleasure tumbled from your lips. And just as the orgasm started to fade, his hands slipped around the back of your thighs to lift you up.

Somehow you managed to lock your arms around his neck as he held you in the air, and he hooked his forearms underneath your knees as your bare back scraped against the brick. It hurt so good, and you buried your face in his hair, breathing in his scent and savoring the way he was going to ravage you.

Loki grabbed your ass as he rolled his hips against yours, both of you moaning in unison at the skin-to-skin contact. His heavy exhales washed over your skin as he panted against your jaw, and you were still trembling from the aftershocks of the first orgasm when his cock slid inside you.

He groaned in pleasure as he pushed deeper within your soaked cunt, and your toes curled inside your shoes. You hadn’t even seen his cock yet, but you could feel just how perfect it was, how perfect he was - and you couldn’t help but squeeze as he bottomed out inside you.

“Such a tight and lovely little thing,” Loki hissed as he started to thrust, slowly at first but quickly increasing his pace. His hips rocked back and forth, and your fingers scratched at his scalp to beg him to keep going.

He held you in the air, easily supporting your entire weight as he drove himself into you over and over. It was like magic, he was like a benevolent God of Pleasure, and you would forever worship the ground he walked on as long as he continued doing this to you.

You buried your face against his shoulder to muffle your cries of pleasure as he filled you up, and his lower back arched as his thrusts became frantic. You moaned his name and he moaned yours, and his fingers gripped you tightly as yours dug into his neck.

“Yes! Come for me, darling!” Loki growled against your ear as he adjusted your hips, pulling them away from the wall. His thrusts became urgent, and this new angle allowed him to move deeper, pressing against the most sensitive flesh that other men could only dream of reaching.

You crossed the threshold again, coming even harder than you did the first time. Loki grunted like an animal as he made his final pushes inside you before following you off the edge. Your thighs shook as his hips bucked, and your muscles squeezed every ounce of pleasure out of him.

The sounds he made were sinful, and it was almost enough to keep you going. Neither of you were on Earth anymore; floating in the cosmos, higher than you’d ever been before, your hips writhing and mouths gasping for air as you came together.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, but eventually your bodies became still, and you could feel his lips pressed lazily against your jaw and his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “You have no idea…just how much…I needed that…” he murmured breathlessly.

You could feel the gravity of his words bringing you back down to the ground, and while you didn’t know what he was referring to, you wished that you could. “I’m glad you convinced me to stay for that drink then…”

Loki chuckled to himself as he pressed his forehead against yours and carefully pulled the strap of your dress back to your shoulder. His fingertips were delicate as they traced along your collarbone, and as his eyes traveled up to meet your gaze, you could see a thousand lifetimes of sadness hiding behind them.

“Thank you…for the drink, and the birthday present. Maybe we can do this again for your birthday…” you continued with a smile, hoping to be able to see him again soon. You didn’t know if he needed the reassurance, but you wanted to give it to him anyway.

He didn’t respond at first, and you gently caressed his cheek. This evening was too magical to not let it happen again, and you prayed that he felt the same.

Loki’s expression was one of anguish as he turned his head to kiss your palm. He let out a heavy exhale, and forced himself to look at you again.

“Yes. Maybe we can…” Loki smiled as he gazed into your eyes, and your heart ached as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

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neptuneiris · 1 year ago

Text

could you pretend to be in love? (04/10)

The Evolution

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: the time comes for you to step out of your comfort zone a bit, so the party begins and you and Aemond must pretend in a new environment.

word count: 7.3k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

new chapter!🥳

before you start reading, I want to thank you for all the support I've received with this fic, it's the best and it means a lot to me that you're liking it so much🥺 there's still a lot to come and I can't wait for you to join me in the future chapters, so look forward to it!❤

and now yes, read and enjoy!

warnings: smoking, mention of weed, alcohol.

It's not like you're an alien, you've been to parties before, it's just not your favorite way to have fun.

And as you enter the huge house with DJ, colored lights pointing in all directions, beer pong tables, people dancing in the middle of it all with the music blasting in your ears and the smell of beer in the air, along with cigarettes and weed, you don't let go of Aemond's hand at any moment.

Fortunately not everyone notices you when you enter the house together, mostly because everyone is immersed in the big party, but some heads do turn to look at you and Aemond.

And together, you walk through all the bodies moving to the rhythm of the music, where Aemond has the purpose of looking for a less overwhelming place for you.

He skillfully guides you through the whole place, greeting some guys he meets on the way and congratulating him for tonight's victory, without him letting go of your hand for a second.

Until they finally find a less crowded and a little quieter corner on the back terrace, having in view the kitchen of the house where there are people smoking and drinking and in the background are all the people dancing.

Although the music is still blaring in the background, at least you can talk to Aemond without having to yell and he will hear you. And when you lean against the railing of the terrace, he looks at you with a knowing smile while you try to adapt to the environment.

"You don't really like this, do you?" he says, knowing the answer before you can say anything.

"Do I show it a lot?" you say, letting out a nervous laugh, "And I don't dislike it," you clarify, "It's just not my favorite place to be."

He nods sympathetically.

"I know, but we won't stay long, I promise," he assures you, "Do you want something to drink? A soda or water?"

You smile as you lower your gaze, a little shyly.

"Actually... I think I can handle a beer. It's a party after all."

You don't normally drink alcohol but considering you're at a party, you don't want to look like a party pooper. And you're sure that if you don't relax a little, you'll never make it through the night.

"Are you sure?" he watches you completely attentively, "If you don't want to—

"I'm sure, don't worry," you say, nodding.

"Good," he smiles softly at you, "I'll be right here," he points to the kitchen in front of you, serious and wanting to make it clear, "I'm not going anywhere else and I'll be back very soon."

You let out a small laugh.

"Yes, I know. Now go," you nod to him, smiling.

Aemond nods and walks away towards the kitchen, leaving you momentarily alone but not quite, as you can see him from where you are, moving back and forth with the two plastic cups. And then you focus around you, watching people dancing, laughing and playing party games.

The smell of cigarettes and weed reaches your nostrils, but you don't take much notice, as Aemond's company makes it all seem more bearable.

The music continues to echo in the atmosphere and after a few seconds, Aemond returns with the two cups in both hands, offering you your beer and you accept it with a grateful expression.

"Thank you," you say, feeling more relaxed to have him by your side again.

"I really didn't expect you to be up for a beer," he tells you with a playful smile.

"Please, it's just a beer," you reply with a laugh, taking a small sip.

"Careful or you might become the queen of the party."

"Don't overdo it," you tell him, laughing. "And what are you drinking?" you observe him curiously.

"Just beer," he says with a shrug, "But I drive, remember? So this will be the first and last of the night."

Aemond raises his cup in a casual toast in your direction, you smile and clink your cup lightly with his, then both of you drink in sync.

"Hey, what do you say we take a selfie?" he says animatedly, grabbing his phone, flipping open the camera, "I want to get a picture of you with my initials on your cheeks."

"As long as you don't put it as your wallpaper, it's fine," you joke.

"That's exactly what I want it for. Now smile."

That's what you do, you place your face close to his and you both smile. He takes a few more, where you make funny faces and also where he insists that you give him a kiss on his cheek, taking the selfie.

He then also insists that they take pictures from your phone as well, reminding you that you have to post them to your Instagram later and you rolling your eyes amusedly nod.

And once that's enough, Aemond looks at the photos with satisfaction.

"I'll definitely set this one as my wallpaper."

"Which one?" you ask him curiously.

He smiles and proudly shows you his screen, which features the picture of you with his initials painted on both of your cheeks, smiling and with the colored party lights uniquely illuminating your face.

"I look like an idiot," you say slightly embarrassed.

"A pretty idiot."

He says back, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, careful not to ruin his initials.

"Now, what's your background going to be?" he asks you intently, watching your phone screen.

"Hum," you also focus on your screen, looking at the selfies, "This one."

You point to the picture of you kissing his cheek and he nods with his little grin. He is about to speak when a third voice makes itself heard between the two of you.

"Aemond!" exclaims Aegon, heading towards you both from a distance with a huge grin and a drink in hand, with Helaena behind him, "There's the star of the night!"

Aemond suddenly tenses up and indeed so do you. You both exchange a quick, discreet glance, where he warns you and gives you a reassuring look at the same time.

And you mentally prepare yourself to pretend and look as in love with him as possible, telling yourself that you can't fuck this up.

"Congratulations, brother!" exclaims Aegon happily, coming towards you both and giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder, "You kicked all those fucker's' asses," he says proudly, then focusing on you, "And you must be Y/N," he adds, grinning at you.

"Hi," you smile, trying to look relaxed and not at all nervous at the sudden appearance of Aemond's siblings.

"I'm Aegon, the older brother who always leaves everyone impressed, the most handsome and intelligent of the family. Pleasure," he introduces himself, extending his hand to you and you shake it almost instantly, laughing softly.

"So he says," Aemond says next to you with an amused smile.

"A pleasure."

"He's just envious and he's already told us so much about you," he lets you know, "Oh and this is our sister, Helaena," he points behind him.

"Hi," you smile at her too.

"Hi, I finally meet you!" she says with a smile bigger than yours, extending her hand in a friendly gesture, "And honestly the handsomest of my brothers is Daeron and the smart one in the family is me."

"See?" points out Aegon to Helaena seriously and incredulously, "Another envious one."

But Helaena pays him no attention and continues to focus on you.

After the introductions, you continue talking to them, who show great interest in getting to know you without losing their friendly and playful touch towards you, they ask you questions and share some comical stories about Aemond, where the conversation flows easily, wich surprises you.

But that's exactly what makes them create a relaxed and fun atmosphere for you, making the party more bearable. Besides Aegon is extremely funny and Helaena conveys a calmness to you that totally goes with your personality, pleasing you.

"I'm excited to have someone new in the family," she says excitedly, "And if you want, we can sit together sometimes on break," she offers, getting your attention more, "I've sat with Aemond and his friends before and I know what it's like, they're frustrating."

"Hey," Aemond reproaches her hurt.

"Am I wrong?" Helaena observes you expectantly.

"Hum," you look at Aemond and then back at his sister, a little nervously, "They are frustrating but fun."

"Want one?" says Aegon to Aemond, offering him a cigarette.

"Sure."

"But yes, sure, we can eat together, I'd love to," you smile at Hel, honest.

"Great."

Aemond lights his cigarette and lets the smoke escape between his lips, then places his other arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him confidently, wanting to clearly demonstrate his supposed connection to you.

When suddenly, Aegon takes his leave, watching a group of girls walking past you with great interest.

"I'm going to get something to drink, see you in a bit," he says without even looking at you, already walking away, following the girls and disappearing into the crowd.

Aemond and Helaena roll their eyes before sharing a knowing look between them, this being so typical of Aegon, then she too takes her leave for the moment with a smile.

"I think I'll leave you two alone for now too," she says starting to walk away, "Have fun!" she exclaims before getting lost in the crowd just like Aegon.

And once you and Aemond are alone again, you both can finally relax.

"They loved you," he tells you with a small smile, taking a puff on his cigarette, "You did very well."

"Not that they were hard to be with, but now we can relax a little more," you say with a soft smile, "I really liked them. They're very nice.

Aemond nods, agreeing.

"Aegon is a idiot. He loves to have fun and all he cares about is girls, but he's still funny," you nod, "And Hel, well, sometimes she's weird... but she's really sweet and fun too."

"Yeah, I noticed," you say nodding, "And do you have another brother? Daeron?" you ask, remembering how Helaena mentioned him.

"Ah yes, he's the youngest of all," he tells you and you listen carefully, still feeling his hand around your waist, "He's at Honeyholt on exchange in high school. All of a sudden he had the idea of wanting to see another place and Mom supported him. We have family there, so they are taking care of him until he gets into college."

"Oh," you nod, now understanding, "And is he really the best looking of the three of you?" you ask amused and he smiles.

"Of course not, obviously I'm the handsomest," he says condescendingly, smugly and you laugh, "I also have a half-sister, Rhaenyra," he adds, "But she's older than all of us. She's already married, with children and focused on her own family."

You nod again, attentive and interested, keeping that information, since you had no idea.

In fact about the families is something you haven't talked to him about, well, except that you know Aegon and Helaena, but you don't know anything else like for example his father and mother.

And he doesn't know anything about yours either. You suppose it's just a matter of time to build more trust between the two of you as this goes on.

"You don't have any brothers or sisters?" he asks you curiously, watching you intently and you shake your head.

"I'm an only child."

He is about to speak when, again, a third voice interrupts him.

"Aemond!"

You both turn your heads and see one of his lacrosse friends calling from the kitchen.

"Want to play beer pong with us?"

Aemond doesn't answer him right away, as he turns his attention back to you.

"Do you want to play or do you want to talk about it?"

"Hum... the truth is I've never played beer pong," you say a little nervous and embarrassed, "And I don't want to talk about it."

"Then I'll teach you, come on, it's really easy," he says excitedly, taking you by the hand, "It'll be fun, you'll see," he tells you as he guides you towards the kitchen.

You let him guide you, and you too enter the lively atmosphere of the kitchen, where the sound of music and laughter mixes with the aroma of drinks and cigarettes. And Aemond leads you towards the beer pong table where his friends you already know are, setting everything up.

"First, you need a ball."

Aemond says, taking one from the pile on the table and placing it in your hand. And before he can speak further, you do.

"Actually I do know how to play but I've never played," you clarify, "Besides, I have really bad aim."

"No matter, just have fun," he tells you with a reassuring gaze, "And forget about everyone, the stares, the talking, Alys, everything. Let's just have a good time, okay?"

You nod, watching him a little nervously but attentively and he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, making you feel a strange sensation in your body that you haven't felt before.

But you know that he has done it because you are now among his friends and other people at school, so you have to pretend very well.

Music blares in the kitchen as you and Aemond join the beer pong game and take up position at one end of the table, facing your first opponent.

Aemond still repeats the rules to you once again, but his focus is more on enjoying the moment.

You hold the ball in your hands with a mixture of nervousness, not knowing exactly why, and excitement. And Aemond next to you gives you an encouraging look.

And finally you throw the ball and to your surprise, and also delight, it lands perfectly in one of the cups on the other side of the table.

"Yes!" exclaims Aemond excitedly, with a huge smile, instantly making a high five with you, being his turn.

This definitely makes you feel more relaxed and encourages you to forget about everyone and focus on this moment with Aemond, immersing yourself in these party games you've never tried before.

Aemond continues to hug you and celebrate each successful release, accentuating your complicity so you both keep pretending. That moment of the night progresses with laughter, exchange of complicit glances and impromptu pretending moments.

And every time you suddenly feel Aemond's hands on your waist hugging you and pulling you closer to him, it makes you feel strange and weird sensations through your body, which you try not to give much importance to.

Both Aemond and you immerse yourself in the illusion of the fake relationship, taking every opportunity to enjoy each other's company.

The party continues and as you share laughter and affectionate gestures in the midst of it all, you realize that although the relationship is fake, the connection you now have with Aemond and the fun you share is real.

And when the round of beer pong is over, Aemond introduces you to more of his friends, like Qyle Martell and Cregan Stark. Martell is like Aegon, you can tell and Stark is friendlier and also very nice.

"Are you friends with Alysanne?"

He asks you curiously in the middle of the conversation, as Aemond has one arm around your waist, leaning against the kitchen island, his other hand smoking a new cigarette and you find yourself in the middle of his legs, your hands on top of his arm and hand.

"Yes," you nod to him, "We recently became close."

"I assumed so because I saw her at the game with you," he tells you with a small smile, "But, do you know if she has a boyfriend?" he asks you more curious than before, getting your attention.

You're about to speak when Aemond steps forward.

"Cregan has had a crush on her forever," he says over your head and you turn your attention back to Cregan.

"Well, she hasn't," you let him know, "She told me she recently broke up with a guy from another school."

"Really?" he looks at you hopefully, "And could you talk to her about me? You know, see what she thinks."

You smile, nodding.

"Sure."

"I wouldn't ask you but I thought she was coming to the party."

"Oh no, no, it's fine," you assure him, "I'll talk to her."

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Aemond announces suddenly, catching your attention.

He gently removes you from between his legs, standing up straight and leaving the rest of his now non-existent cigarette on the kitchen island, then watching you completely attentively.

"You can stay and talk to Cregan. I'll be back soon."

"Sure," you nod to him.

Aemond wanders off towards the second floor bathroom, already knowing that the bathroom down here always has huge lines for wanting to get in, and so you stand around talking animatedly with Cregan, mostly about Alysanne.

As Aemond slips through the crowd, up the stairs and disappears down the second floor hallway, heading for the bathroom.

Actually he doesn't take long at all and soon enough he finishes washing his hands and exits the bathroom, walking back down the hallway to return to the big party downstairs.

But just as he turns down the hallway, Alys appears in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

Aemond watches her without expression really, feeling a little surprised inside, but only ignores her and tries to walk past her, but of course, Alys immediately blocks his path.

He watches her confused and she places a small grin on her perfectly painted red lips.

"What?" he asks her, disinterested.

"Can't I talk to you? Your girlfriend already so soon set rules for you?" she inquires him too, with a look of superiority, crossing her arms.

He certainly decides to ignore most of her comment and looks at her seriously.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Once again he tries to walk past her but she blocks his path again, irritating him and making him let out a sigh.

"What do you want?" he watches her in exasperation.

"Y/N? Really?" she inquires again pouting and with disdain, making Aemond again let out another sigh, "She's your new girlfriend?"

"Yes, she is," he tells her seriously and firmly, "Do you have a problem with that?

"At least you could be able to get something halfway better than that," she says with a mixture of mockery and seriousness, "I can't believe you dated me and now you're dating her, literally a nobody," she says confused, furrowing her brow.

Aemond frowns, definitely starting to get annoyed by her attitude and the way she's talking about you.

"First, it's none of your business who I'm dating now nor do you even have the right to reproach me for that. And second, Y/N is not a 'nothing.' She is an amazing person and I will not allow you to speak of her like that."

Alys further demonstrates her mockery.

"She's amazing?" she repeats, "Please, no one here even knew her from before she started dating you. She's just another one of those pathetic boring girls who sits in the background and can't say more than three words."

Aemond clenches his jaw, watching her seriously and sternly.

"Watch your mouth."

"Or what?" she teases him, watching him defiantly, "Am I telling lies?"

"Stop talking about her like that," he warns her with determination, "And before you judge her, first see yourself in a mirror, maybe you can fully surprise yourself."

She lets out a cynical laugh.

"Oh, look at you," she coos, "You have become the advocate for shy and invisible girls. No one would have expected it from you, not even me. But I'm sure you're only dating her to annoy me."

Aemond takes a deep breath, having enough of this.

"What I do or don't do doesn't matter to you. And don't get ideas in your head either, you're the last thing on my mind. Don't think you're important, because you're not," he tells her seriously and honestly, "Now, if you don't have anything important to say to me, leave me alone and let me enjoy the night."

Alys grits her teeth, obviously frustrated at not getting the reaction she was looking for from him. And finally Aemond is able to walk past her, away from her. But before he turns and starts down the stairs, Alys stops him with her next words.

"We'll see if the shy girl still likes you that much when you see if she can fuck you well, which I doubt," she says seriously and teasingly.

Aemond purses his lips, taking a deep breath to try to keep his composure. He feels a knot in his stomach, with a mixture of disgust and frustration throughout his body.

"You're completely insane, Alys, insane."

He spits the words at her completely seriously and finally walks away from her, leaving that unpleasant conversation behind.

As he returns to the bustle of the party, he struggles to clear his mind of Alys' words, which are still present and the unpleasant feeling still lingers. And it makes him angry to know that he allowed her to manage to ruin the party for him.

Finally he enters the kitchen and you are still there, talking to Cregan and before heading towards you, he tries to put on his best possible face so that his annoyance and bitterness is not noticeable.

And after a few seconds he turns to you.

"Hey," he says with a forced smile, placing himself back next to you.

Your smile fades a little and this immediately catches your attention.

Fortunately at that moment Cregan leaves you both alone, saying he'll fix himself a new drink, so you give him your full attention, noticing the seriousness on his face that he's trying to hide.

"Everything okay?" you ask him, slightly concerned.

"Yeah," he says softly, taking your hand to entwine his fingers with yours.

"Are you sure?" you ask him, not entirely convinced, "Did something happen?"

"No, no, I'm just a little tired," he lies, "Maybe in a little longer we should go."

Aemond, despite the feeling in him that still lingers, feels that he shouldn't overwhelm you with what happened with Alys. Being here, in the middle of the party with everyone watching them, is enough for you.

He doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable when everything has been going too well so far.

"Sure but... are you sure you're okay?" you insist in a soft voice, running your hand gently across his forehead, gently brushing his hair.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry," he smiles softly at you.

He holds you against his body, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you between his body, while you look around and realize that there are still, at this point in the party, people watching you.

When then Aemond's gaze falls on all the people dancing, an idea crosses his mind.

He puts on a small amused smile and lowers his face to look you in the eyes, tracing gentle circles with his thumb on your lower back.

"Do you wanna dance?" he asks you with his smile, instantly catching your attention.

You watch him with your eyes slightly wide open and your lips parted, but not because of surprise, but because you were dreading exactly this proposal.

He points with his gaze to where everyone is dancing and you follow, seeing how there are some girls dancing alone and shaking their butts in a fantastic way, there are also couples dancing together and people in groups dancing and singing along to the songs of the moment without a care in the world.

But that's not what catches your attention.

It's the way some girls, not to say most of them, dance in a sensual, sexy way, moving their body and waist in a magnetic way, also their buttocks as if it was as easy as breathing, attracting the attention of boys and girls.

There is no way you can move your butt and body like that. You would like to, but you don't know how.

There are also couples who dance very close to each other, in a very intimate way, chest to chest. Even the guy runs his hands all over the girl's body while they dance to the music and touches her butt in front of everyone.

And that definitely horrifies you.

You know Aemond would never try to touch you like that. Doing something like that didn't enter into any part of the contract.

But you still grimace involuntarily and feel embarrassed. You immediately turn your gaze to Aemond and with a flash of sincerity, you confess.

"I don't know how to do it," you say in complete embarrassment.

You think he's going to make fun of you and you're only going to feel more embarrassed than you already are, but instead, he smiles at you with understanding gently and begins to try to convince you enthusiastically.

"Come on, don't worry about anything, it's easy," he assures you, "Just follow my lead, okay?"

He takes you by the hand gently and guides you towards the center of the house, where everyone is dancing and music is enveloping everything.

Your heart starts pounding, feeling nervous, but you still follow with a certain heaviness.

The music, the colors of the lights and the energy of all these people become a kind of bubble around you. And as you walk, you feel the gaze of some people on you, but Aemond deliberately ignores them, focused on making you feel comfortable.

And once you're both in the center of it all, surrounded by more people, you watch him with some trepidation but he confidently places his arms around your waist, hugging you but leaning back slightly so he can look you in the eye.

"Is this okay or are you uncomfortable?" he asks you attentively leaning down to speak in your ear so you can hear him over the music.

"It's fine," you nod to him, but you lick your lips and really don't even know what to do with yourself.

He glues your body to his, still watching you intently, mostly because his lips brush against the bridge of your nose and it sends an electric current inexplicably through you.

And you feel like your heart will leap out of your chest at any moment from such closeness.

"And this is okay?"

You swallow hard and nod, unable to speak for all the sensations overwhelming you in that instant.

"Now you put your hands around my neck," he tells you as he takes your hands and places them himself where he directs you, then puts his hands back on your waist.

Again you bite your lips, while avoiding looking him too much in the eye, nervous and still not having the slightest idea what to do, but you stay like that, already feeling more the sorrow that maybe he can feel your accelerated heart rate.

"And now we dance, no choreography or specific moves... we just move," he says in your ear softly but loud enough for you to hear.

And just then you turn your attention to the song; One Of The Girls by Lily-Rose Deep, Jennie and The Weeknd.

Oh Gods.

"It's very simple, just sway your hips back and forth to the beat of the song."

You avert your gaze, feeling the awkwardness grow inside you, because you really don't know how to do this. Yet you force yourself to stay in the moment and do this, because it's no big deal, it's just dancing.

"Like this," he says, moving your hips with his hands gently from side to side, guiding your movements patiently, just as he moves his body slowly in sync with yours.

The song swells loudly in the background, creating an intimate atmosphere between him and you. And carefully, you begin to follow the rhythm, letting your hips sway to the music.

And honestly... you just get uncomfortable and barely more so, feeling completely awkward.

"Am I doing this right?" you ask fearfully, already knowing the answer.

"Easy, you're doing excellent," he assures you, "Just let yourself go," he says in your ear, his voice soft and encouraging.

Hearing his comforting words, you strain to relax, letting the melody envelop your senses, as Aemond looks at you with a reassuring smile, encouraging you.

And with his confidence and also his comforting presence, he makes you start to forget about everyone around you and focus on this moment, on him.

And with every movement you let yourself go with the rhythm of the music, as you both move in sync and the tension you felt before seems to dissipate with every second. Especially since some funny gestures from him during the dance make you relax more.

"See? It's not hard."

He tells you as he makes you both move with more rhythm, keeping his hand on your waist and the other on your lower back, not going any further, where every movement makes your body rub against his.

"You're even better at this than me," he mentions amused and you laugh softly.

"Don't be a liar," you tell him watching intently between your body and his, afraid of getting it wrong and missing a beat.

He maintains his grin and your eyes meet his, sharing complicity and amusement. And he encouraging you to let loose even more.

And only then do you start to really enjoy the dance, because you realize that you're probably not the only one who feels a little out of place, besides no one is even paying attention to you.

All the people here are enjoying the music in their own ways. So with each step, you become more immersed in the moment, forgetting the stares of others and remembering that you're also pretending with Aemond, so you stick a little more towards him, if possible.

"Yes, just like that," he says in your ear, his voice soft and soothing, "Alys is watching us."

He says as he glances out of the corner of his eye toward the entrance to the kitchen, where Alys is leaning against the wall.

And you discreetly look around for her, finding her and seeing the surprise and disbelief in her gaze as she watches the two of you, pursing her lips, looking clearly annoyed and even... indignant.

Immediately the look on Alys' face makes you feel uncomfortable and embarrassed, but you decide that won't distract you and don't pay too much attention to her, preferring to focus on the moment.

With each movement, you feel more in tune with the music and with Aemond next to you, who brings his forehead together with yours, sharing a moment of complicity as they continue to move to the rhythm of the music.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

He says suddenly and you instantly feel tense and nervous again. But you understand why he wants to do it, clearly because she's watching right now.

"Okay," you say swallowing hard, having no idea if he even heard you over the music.

When he separates a little, just a little from you, still keeping one of his hands on your waist while with the other he gently places it on your right cheek, sliding his fingers across your soft skin.

Your gaze meets his, where there is a new lightness of silent complicity but in a more intense way that you can't quite describe.

His gaze is totally determined and even makes you feel nervous immediately, where not only his eye inspects your face, but also your parted lips just centimeters below his, this drawing more than anything else his attention.

This does not go unnoticed by you and you feel more nerves in your stomach, but when he leans forward, closing the short distance between the two of you, you tell yourself that you must be pretending just as well as he is.

You both close your eyes and the brushing of lips is soft and hesitant, where a barely audible sigh escapes your lips as you too let the overwhelming feeling of having to kiss Aemond in front of all these people.

The sound of your heartbeat echoes in your ears as his lips finally catch yours in a soft kiss.

You think it will be like the first time, just the contact of lips against lips, but Aemond literally moves his mouth, really starts kissing you, caressing his lips with yours... and you unexpectedly and instantly follow him.

Surprised and completely unsure, you feel Aemond take a firmer hold of your waist and deepen the kiss, while you try not to gasp into his lips and let yourself be carried along by his movements.

For you, each movement of his lips is like a new melody, awakening a surge of emotions that take your breath away.

This is completely new to you.

It is completely different from the first time you both kissed.

Your hands instinctively cling to his shoulders, seeking support amidst the whirlwind of sensations that engulf you, unable to help but feel a pang of surprise as you feel the softness of his lips against yours.

And though you are both pretending, both you and he let your own emotions mix with it.

Aemond continues to tenderly caress your soft skin with his thumb as he tilts his head and latches onto your lips once more, slow and deep, letting you feel everything.

His hand slides deftly down your neck and tangles in your hair, drawing you closer to him in an intimate, passionate gesture. And though you can't help it, everything about him envelops you.

You feel every detail, his comforting closeness, the smell of his cologne, so manly, the cigarette taste in his mouth that somehow you don't dislike at all and the way he is holding you against his body.

And finally when you are both out of breath, you separate and silence fills the space between you, broken only by the distant sound of music and the racing beat of your hearts.

Your gaze again meets his and strangely you find yourself lost in him, with an unspoken question hanging in the air as you both process what has just happened.

When he smiles softly, as if he is complicit in a secret shared between the two of you, which he is and leaves another soft kiss on your lips before continuing to dance with you, wrapping his arms around you confidently and firmly.

You again let yourself be carried away by the music, wrapping your arms around his neck again, with a question in mind:

What the fuck just happened?

Then, in the middle of the dance, Aemond again whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I think that went very well," he murmurs knowingly, "Alys keeps looking at us."

And then reality comes back into your mind.

Oh... right.

Reality comes back to you like a sudden blow, reminding you of Alys' presence and why you made out with Aemond like that, leaving the magic or spell of the moment.

You try to keep your composure, as if the kiss hadn't affected you in the slightest, but deep inside you know that's not true.

You try in vain to ignore the feeling of discomfort and surprise that creeps up inside you as you continue to dance with Aemond. Each movement seems stiffer, the music sounds louder and the weight of the kiss suddenly weighs on your shoulders.

Although you try to maintain the appearance of normalcy, Aemond seems to notice your change in attitude and looks at you intently, his brow slightly furrowed.

And despite your attempt to keep your face serene and completely unconcerned, he can still see the tension building up in your expression.

So finally, Aemond breaks the silence that hangs in the tension-laden air.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

The question instantly catches your attention, but first you focus entirely on him.

"Don't you want to stay a while longer?"

"We've done enough and besides... I'd like to go get some rest."

"Okay, yeah, sure," you say in a soft voice, starting to pull away from him.

Aemond offers you a comforting smile before taking you by the hand and leading you towards the door, but not before saying goodbye to his friends and warning his siblings, who he asks if they will go home with him, but Aegon is still enjoying himself and so is Helaena.

The cool night air envelops you as you leave the house, bringing with it a feeling of relief and release. And as you walk away along with Aemond, you feel the tension slowly dissipate, giving way to a feeling of peace and tranquility.

But there is still that uneasiness and uncertainty within you.

The sunlight enters through the kitchen windows, while you finish placing your breakfast on the table and your father's too, starting a new week.

Normally on Mondays your father comes in a little later to work and taking advantage of his free time, he always drives you to school, so early in the morning you text Aemond that you don't need him to pick you up and that you'll see him at school.

At first you and your father talk about anything between scrambled eggs and sips of coffee, when suddenly the conversation takes a serious turn when your father mentions college, your future.

"Have you applied for college entrance exams yet?" he asks you, with a look of slight concern on his face, "I understand the application season is almost over."

Instantly you feel a knot in your stomach and involuntarily tense up, nervous.

"Yes, Dad," you reply in your slightly shaky voice, trying to hide it," I already have."

"Very good," he nods at you with a small smile, "Just make sure you're aware of all the deadlines and requirements. This is important and who knows...maybe you can get into Oldtown."

God.

This makes you even more nervous, but you tell yourself that you trust Aemond completely and that he is handling your direct application to Oldtown.

You haven't talked to him about it but that's what he's surely been doing, he has to. He promised to deliver on this if you fulfill your role as a girlfriend in love so he must already be doing it.

So you feel confident that everything will work out.

Again you nod in your father's direction and both of you resume breakfast, while you think that you have Aemond totally on your side in this.

Breakfast doesn't last any longer and soon your father is already dropping you off at the school parking lot. You kiss each other on the cheek, wish each other good day and finally get out of the car.

Both the hallways and the parking lot are flooded with students as you try to weave your way through them to get to your locker, hoping to run into Alysanne soon.

But instead you see Aemond who is engaged in a lively conversation with his friends at the lockers. And you don't know exactly why but seeing him immediately makes your nerves explode.

Since that kiss on Friday, neither you nor he has talked about it. He only drove you home after the party was over for him and you, where neither of you made a comment about it.

And honestly... you still feel a little weird about it.

You mean, you've never made out with him like that before, or with anyone else. And that's why you haven't stopped thinking about it, but you don't want to talk about it either, you feel it will be awkward.

And you don't need to turn to him and talk to him for him to notice you, as unconsciously his gaze meets yours as he laughs at a comment from one of his friends.

And he instantly says goodbye to his friends to head towards you with a small grin on his lips, which you return to him from a distance, until you both close the distance.

"Hi."

"Hey," he says to then unexpectedly drop a soft, quick kiss on your lips.

You remain static for a moment, as you're never really going to get used to this.

"Everyone's watching us," he says quietly to you in a discreet manner as he places one of his arms around your shoulder and begins to walk together with you down the hallway, "So, your dad drove you today?"

You nod as you both walk down the hallway together, where admittedly, you notice how some people are still watching you as you pass, but with Aemond's closeness, you are comforted.

"Yes, he did."

And as the two of them approach your locker, a nervousness begins to grow in your chest and stomach.

You hesitate for a moment before you renew enough courage to ask Aemond what you want to know, with the question hovering constantly in the back of your mind, ever since breakfast.

And releasing a long breath, you dare to speak.

"Are you already working on my college application?"

You immediately regret it, but what can you really do? He's already heard you.

Aemond's eye reflects surprise for a moment before a more serene expression settles on his face.

"Why do you ask?" he asks with genuine curiosity.

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling a bit awkward at the revelation of your concerns.

"N-no, it's just... I had a conversation with my dad about it, and I just wanted to know, that's all," you explain, hoping you don't sound too anxious.

"Well, don't worry about it, I've got it under control," he assures you with his reassuring look, when he quickly changes the subject, "And listen, I've got training now, so I've got to get to the field already but I'll see you in class later, okay?"

You say nothing, he doesn't give you the time, as he gently this time leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and walks away, leaving you with your heart beating fast and a mix of emotions that leave you reflective.

And then throughout the school day, you meet Aemond at various times during the day and each time, he is there for you. And the next few days too.

You walk to class together, share laughs at lunch or just in the hallways, as well as Aemond always pretends and proves to be an attentive and gentlemanly 'boyfriend' in the eyes of others.

Every affectionate gesture from him to you, from his gentle kisses to his warm hugs or holding your hand, even to post new photos together to the social, is perceived as genuine and affectionate.

And to you, each of these acts is just a facade, a role you're both playing to keep up appearances in front of others. And you remind yourself that these gestures mean nothing, other than to pretend.

But despite your attempts to keep yourself emotionally distant, you couldn't help but feel touched and to some extent 'special' by the way Aemond treats you.

It's like acting in a movie and being actors playing a couple in love, but you wonder; how come in real life actors don't fall in love for real?

And every time Aemond gives you too much attention and treats you like a boyfriend should treat his girlfriend, a little part of you starts to fear that these gestures might start to be more than just acting for you.

But you know you can't get confused and you can't get your hopes up foolishly. You also tell yourself that you can't let your feelings get complicated now, because it's not the right thing to do.

But still you fear that maybe you might mistake his actions for something real, when you shouldn't.

taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond one eye #aemond x y/n

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isalisewrites · 2 months ago

Text

TERRIBLE, BUT GREAT - CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

SUMMARY:

“Harry Potter.”

The cold burrowed into his flesh, the scent of cloying death and molding earth clogged his senses.

“The Boy Who Lived.”

A strange sense of loss and disappointment rose within him. That brilliant, yet cruel boy could’ve been so much more if he’d not stepped down this bloodied path.

Terrible, but great. He pitied this creature.

“Come to die.”

Harry Potter faced the flash of green light with the bravery of a Gryffindor and the broken heart of a Hufflepuff.

—

When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.

—

FIFTY-FOUR EXCERPT:

“What did you wish to discuss?” asked Tom.

“Well, you’re in a world of trouble for one.”

Tom’s mouth slowly dropped open. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“You. You, Tom Riddle, are in big trouble, young man,” said Tina, reiterating herself in a firm tone. “And we’re going to talk about it and make sure this doesn’t happen again. Understood?”

“Uh… Y-Yes, ma’am,” whispered Tom, completely caught off guard.

He still didn’t know what this was about. It couldn’t just be about missing Sunday dinner, right? Had he done something more… Wait… Is she angry about my missing classes and assignments? Surely not. Tina wasn’t a teacher. It wasn’t her concern at all whether or not Tom missed his classes or failed to turn in assignments. Why would she care?

But…

That was the only explanation for Tina’s behavior. What else could it be? Tom had never felt like a little child around adults and especially not like a naughty child who deserved to be scolded. But as Tina gazed down at him with disappointed, yet soft brown eyes, Tom was overcome with that childlike feeling. He shifted in his seat; his ears heated up.

“Tom, I know the attack was traumatic,” said Tina, her tone softening. “It was… very difficult to find both of you covered in blood and…”

Tom’s mouth went dry.

A head exploded. Blood splattered; bone and brain coated his robes.

Tom blinked. He inhaled greedily. The images faded away, but the scent still lingered in his senses.

“And, well, Newt and I are so grateful that you’re both doing okay. If anything happened to either of you, we’d…”

What?

Tina shook herself. She put her hands onto her hips, “But your behavior this past week and a half has been unacceptable, Tom—and you missed our family Sunday dinner.”

Wait, family—

“You avoided Newt and I, no matter how hard we tried to talk to you—” Tina took to pacing back and forth in front of Tom’s desk, wringing her hands together and gesturing wildly through her gentle, yet firm tirade. “—you always ran off and wouldn’t listen to us when we called you back. Your grades have tanked—don’t think I don’t know that,” she added sharply, giving Tom a look. He shrank back in his seat. “I’ve heard you’ve missed eight of your assignments—eight,Tom!”

He sat there, frozen. Embarrassment swirled in his gut and heated his cheeks with shame. Tom swallowed against the rising bile in his throat.

“On top of that,” continued Tina, still going strong. Tom was met with the full force of her kind frustration. “You’ve gotten two detentions and you skipped both of them. You missed seven of your classes. You obviously haven’t been sleeping well or eating much—you haven’t bothered to hide the dark circles beneath your eyes this time and I can tell you’ve lost some weight.”

Tom had to refrain from touching his cheeks beneath his eyes.

Tina sighed and stopped pacing. “So, what’re you doing, Tom?” she asked. “What’s going on with you? This is so unlike you.”

He couldn’t move. He opened his mouth, but he had no response for her. The heat in his ears flooded into his cheeks. Tom had never been scolded like this before. He’d been yelled at plenty of times when he’d been a child at the orphanage, but he’d always maintained a perfect record here at Hogwarts.

Well, until this year, of course.

Harry, you’ve affected me, for better and for worse, I fear.

This expression on Tina’s face, what a strange thing it was. It wasn’t the condescending look of judgment that came from Dumbledore nor was it the disapproving looks from his teachers he received recently. What kind of expression was this… oh, she wasn’t angry at him.

Tina was disappointed in him.

Oh…

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #hp #fanfic #fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #soulseeker #harry potter/tom riddle #mywriting #isa's writing #terrible but great

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bring-forth-his-sac · 5 months ago

Text

The Christmas Party - Chapter 1

Summary: Your first year at Alexandria High is going smoothly, until you accidentally offer to plan the staff Christmas party. To make matters worse? You're stuck planning it with the one person you made a terrible first impression on; Negan.

Tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Gossip, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: ok this is partially based on how common Negan's surname is... I mean, Smith?! Really??? Also I have written this very fast and there are many more chapters to come. My plan is to have it complete by Christmas Eve so hopefully you stay tuned until then!!

You tend to avoid Negan Smith. From what you’ve heard, there isn’t a good reason to go near the man. Womanizer. Loudmouth. Curses like a sailor and a professional at ghosting.

But, the job of a teacher sometimes means dealing with people you don’t like. Whether that be talking to a parent who’s convinced their child is a saint or, like in this case, him .

You haven’t even made it to the Christmas break yet and you’re about to knock heads with another teacher. Great. You suppose this is a good thing considering you’ve managed to make it past Halloween unscathed.

Still, it’s not a good look to be confronting another teacher in your first year at a new job, especially when he has taught here for years. You sigh, hand automatically raising to block the surprisingly warm rays of the Winter sun as you scan the track and field.

Ew. Sports. Or more specifically, track. You've never understood appeal to any sports, whether to participate, watch or worse; teach.

With it being midday already, the field is quite busy, with more students mulling around than you anticipated. Some kids sit on the grass surrounding the running track, lacing up sneakers and complaining about upcoming tests.

On the far side of the track, a smaller group of students mess with the plastic javelins that are stuck in the ground, bouncing them back and forth to see how far they’ll bend. You know you should probably tell them to stop and that it’s some kind of safety hazard to be messing with them but this isn’t your class.

If it was in the classroom then of course you’d tell them to stop to save your own skin, but out here, you can pretend to have not noticed the incessant messing they’re doing.

On the actual track is where the bulk of students are, running at a good pace while getting yelled at by some middle aged man with a whistle. The joys of high school.

It takes a certain kind of person to be a teacher, you should know. But to teach gym ? Yeah, that’s some sociopathic shit.

You watch as who you assume is Coach Smith yells at one of the quieter kids to keep up. Well, he’s definitely living up to the loudmouth tag he’s been labelled with.

But that’s not all he has a reputation for. Negan happened to be some of the first gossip you got when you moved here. Well, you’d call it gossip. Others might say it was a cautionary tale or a straight out warning.

Word on the corridor is that he's basically tasked himself to sleep with every female teacher, adding more notches to his bedpost and undoubtedly collecting diseases as if they’re baseball cards.

“You…” the sudden voice catches you off guard, snapping you out of your thoughts as another teacher approaches “do not look like you belong here”.

Another one of the gym teachers, oh goodie.

Considering the size of the school, there were three in total; Coach Smith aka the town bike, the other coach who teaches basketball and another new teaching addition who deals with the tennis and badminton teams. Despite not knowing the new coach, you’d like to think there’s an unspoken alliance between you two since you’re both newbies this year.

Unfortunately, luck isn’t on your side today and it’s the one that teaches basketball that approaches you

You put your best generic smile on and shrug. “Yeah, I’m more at home in the classroom,” you agree “I’m the new teacher for Literacy studies”.

He shook his head in response “No fuckin’ kidding, English teacher, eh? They’ll slap a fancy title on anything nowadays”.

You give a small laugh in response, subtly glancing around to make sure none of the kids are in earshot. And you thought you had a potty mouth.

“And why’re you out here? Checking out what the coaches have to offer?” he comments with a hint of amusement, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he casually leans back against nothing but air, tilting his tall frame.

“Oh I just need a quick word with Coach Smith,” you gesture in the direction of the running teacher, ignoring the latter half of his question.

“About?”.

You try not to let his crass or nosiness annoy you. Pushing down your slight irritation, you keep your smile in place “Just a mix up with a student we both have… he stayed late at one of my classes because we had a test, then he was late for gym, got detention, you know the drill”.

‘Now please fuck off ,’ you so desperately want to add to the end of that sentence, but bit your tongue.

“And what?” the hint of a smirk begin to grace his face “You’re here to get the kid off the hook?”.

“Well, it was my class that kept him behind,” you reply, keeping your gaze on Coach Smith.

That’s all you were going to say but even with your eyes focused on the other coach, you could sense the man beside you practically sizing you up. A flutter of panic pangs at your heart and for a brief moment, you wonder if this other coach thinks you’re being incompetent, or that you’re somehow in the wrong.

“I mean, I did give Henry a note explaining why he was late but obviously that wasn’t enough for Coach Smith” you’re starting to ramble and the worst part is, you know it.

He hums in response, nodding as if he knows all too well “So he’s being a real jackass, huh?”.

“Uh-huh, jackass” you agree, before quietly mumbling “along with a few other things”.

You know it’s time to stop talking now. The last thing you want is to ramble on about things that are none of your business.

“Oh?” that piques his interest.

“Well, y’know… word travels fast and all that,” that rational part of your brain begs you to stay vague “small town gossip spreads like wildfire”.

“And I am just dying to know what that small town gossip is” he turns his face to you fully, giving you his undivided attention.

Being truthful, it’s intense. His gaze is welcoming and yet it’s as if he’s waiting for you to slip up, to say the wrong thing so he can swoop in to defend his colleague.

“Oh it’s nothing really,” you quickly backtrack, every fibre in your body screaming how it’s a bad idea to gossip about another teacher “just stupid hearsay”.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” the man coaxes “let me indulge a little”.

Shrugging, you look back at Coach Smith who’s still in the middle of a class and with no intention of stopping anytime soon.

Don’t do it. It’s not worth it… but can it really be considered gossip when it’s true?

“I’ve just been told it’s best to stay away” you answer honestly.

“ Me-ow !” he punctuates the word, a large grin on his face and undeniably revelling in the small nugget of information “is there a cat fight on the horizon? One of the other teacher’s already got her claws in him?”.

You laughs at that, mostly out of shock. “Not that I would know,” you reply “but by the sounds of it, he’s got enough claws in him as it is”.

A surprised look spreads across the coach’s face, eyebrows raised and mouth slacking open as he uses his thumb to point to Smith, mouthing “Him? Really?”.

You nod. This is going better than expected. A part of you presumed all gym teachers would be macho men with zero personality but this one’s actually charismatic. “Guess they really call him coach for a reason,” you jibe, watching as the man’s face shifts into confusion.

“And why’s that?”.

“Well from what I’ve heard, he’s definitely surpassed the status of player… though he’s probably riddled with… y’know” you raise your eyebrows, hoping the insinuation alone would be enough to get your point across.

He chuckles, glancing back at his colleague with a sigh “His poor wife”.

By now, it looks like Coach Smith is slowing to a halt, his students quickly following suit. About time. Though he’s not completely done yet, giving his class a rundown of the lesson and squirting water into his mouth from a water bottle he’s holding a little too high above his head.

“Yeah,” you sigh solemnly “I heard about that”.

This piece of information was also included in your warning. Apparently Coach Smith’s wife died a few years back. Cancer. And that’s what subsequently led to his quest to fuck anything that a) has a pulse and b) has a vag.

Damn, maybe you really are a gossip.

"It's pretty awful, though," you mutter without thinking, continuing to ramble "I mean, from what I've heard, her side of the bed wasn't even cold and he was already crawling into the beds of other women”.

The man watches you intently, his expression growing flat and unreadable. That’s the shift you feared—the ‘you’ve said too much’ look settling into place.

“But I-“ you’re about to continue, hoping to seem more genuine in your regards when the newest coach appears.

“Sir! Sir! Have you moved the javelins? I was supposed to use them for my ’Aerodynamics in Training’ lesson but they’re not in the storage room” he blurts out as if this is a national disaster.

The man puts up a hand to stop him “Fa–, Joey , can you not see I’m in the middle of something? And the fuck did I tell you about calling me sir all the damn time?”.

Joey, or well, Coach Joey, stumbles over his words before replying, his eyes darting between the two of them “Oh! Oh, I am so sorry sir– uh, Coach Smith,”.

You’re not too sure what Joey said after that, your brain pausing for a moment to process his words. That can’t be right. Not when Mr Jones, the economics teacher specifically pointed at the Ken doll that’s still giving the exhausted teenages a pep talk and said that that’s Coach Smith.

“Coach what?” you blurt, unsure whether you’ve just interrupted Joey or not. You’re surprised the words actually came out coherent, your throat growing tighter by the second.

“Smith” Joey replies without missing a beat. The other man stays quiet and frankly, you refuse to look his way, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“What?” your generic smile graces your face yet again, a defence mechanism to hopefully stop any genuine facial expressions from leaking out “But I thought… over there… that’s Coach Smith”.

Joey gives you a reassuring smile “It’s ok, it confused me too when I got here”.

That still doesn’t answer your question.

“He’s Coach Mark Smith,” Joey points passed the two of them and to the Ken doll “and then this is Coach Negan Smith”. He tries to put his hand on Negan’s upper arm but he quickly shrugs him off, gaze trying to catch yours.

You refuse to meet that gaze, the reality of your fuck up sinking in. While numerous responses whizz around your head, you fail to vocalise any, instead opting to stand there utterly dumbfounded.

Joey doesn’t notice and laughs to himself “It’s confusing, I know but it gets easier when you just associate Coach Smith with Mark and Coach Negan with… haha, well with Negan”.

Your mouth opens but you have no idea what to say or where to ever start. Not that it matters because you’re cut off by the alleged Coach (Negan) Smith.

“Or if that doesn’t suit, you can always tell us apart with him being the clean one and me being… What did you say again? Riddled?”.

Oh dear God no.

That makes your look at him, your eyes wide with sheer embarrassment. “What?” Joey speaks up.

The look in Negan’s eye isn’t one of offence or even annoyance. He’s more pleased that he’s caught you in such an elaborate snare, a glimmer of playfulness in his intense stare that tests you endlessly. Before you can even process what to do, your instincts kick in and you use your best teacher voice to say “Henry won’t be going to detention today. He was late and that’s on me, not him so leave him be”.

Turning on your heels, you quickly walk off and disappear back inside the school building. You don’t look back as you walk away, unwilling to look at the man you were just badmouthing to his face again.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Mondays are usually good days but considering your earlier mishap, you‘re beginning to doubt that. Thankfully, you have a few classes off so you can spend your time overthinking your recent mistake.

Propping your head up with your hands, you look around the classroom you can now call your own. It’s one of the older rooms in the school, a bit drafty but yours nonetheless.

With a quick knock at the door, the skeptical face of Ms. Peletier enters your peripheral vision. “Hi! Is it just you in here?,” she asks in a cheery voice, waltzing into the room.

You give a silent nod and she drops the act.

“I don’t know why I do this to myself. I mean, the kids… it’s like they’re getting more annoying” she huffs, pulling up a chair.

Ms. Peletier, the home ec teacher usually stops by on Mondays. She has a free period at the same time as you and likes to use it venting about how much she hates kids, but also enjoys teaching them and then realizes that maybe she actually likes her job.

It’s a love hate relationship.

But today you’re not as eager to listen. “Have I entered the Twilight Zone?” she does another quick glance, double checking there’s no lingering teacher or student outside “Where’s the bubbly ‘Hi Carol!’ that makes me want to rip my hair out?”.

Bringing her attention back to the statue that is you, an eyebrow quirks up “Are you… moping right now?”.

“It’s been a rough morning” you admit.

“How so?”.

“I bad mouthed another teacher,” you grimace as you explain “to the teacher”.

That doesn’t make sense to Carol, her head tilting to the side like a confused puppy “Huh?”.

You explain the situation briefly: a kid in your class stayed late because of a test but he had gym class afterwards. Despite you giving him a note explaining the delay, Negan gave him detention anyway.

Carol nods along, listening intently.

“And he told me his gym teacher was Coach Smith, so in my head I was like ‘fuck, ok, this is the infamous womanizer guy’ ”.

“No, you’re getting them mixed up that’s-” Carol stops when she sees the look you give her, vaguely beginning to understand where this story is going.

“Well I didn’t realise that and while I was waiting for Coach Smith as in Mark Smith, I was talking to Coach Smith the second, aka Coach Negan” you want to end the story there and save yourself from reliving the trauma.

“Ahhhh,” Carol leans back in her seat, drumming her fingers on the desk that separated them. She gives you a laid back smile “Did he ask you out? Is that where this is heading?”.

You suppress a sigh “No, I started talking about what I thought I knew about Coach Smith but it was actually information I had on Coach Negan Smith and I basically called him a man-whore to his face”.

Carol's face turns blank as she tries to yet again process this. “There’s no way I’m hearing this right” she concludes, though the small shine of amusement in her eyes lets you know that she is in fact computing what she’s hearing.

Deciding you may as well throw this grenade out there too, you add “Oh and I said he’s awful for screwing around right after his wife died”. Now that bomb almost makes the eyes bulge out of Carol’ head.

“You what?” she splutters, losing all composure.

“It wasn’t like anything bad, I didn't do it mockingly-”.

“ Mockingly ? Oh, you just don’t think, do you?” Whatever sense of amusement that was in Carol’s eyes is overtaken with panic.

“No! No, not mockingly, just like— casually, but obviously I wouldn’t have said it if I knew I was in front of a widower” you hurriedly clarifies “it’s not my fault it’s so confusing with all the Smith’s here!!”.

Carol sinks her head into her hands “Oh god”.

After a moment of silence, she collects herself “So you’re never going near the gym hall or track and field again, right?”.

“Never,” you swiftly confirm “not talking to either Smith after this too… actually I think this is a good excuse to avoid gyms in general”.

Carol smiles at that, leaving the wave of panic subside. “Oh! Actually,” she takes out her phone “I keep meaning to add you to the teacher group chat. It’s awful and mainly it’s Gregory complaining about one thing or another but I’ll add you anyways!”.

A few seconds later and your phone buzzes: “You have been added to: Alexandria High’s Teacher Midlife Crisis Support Line”.

“Oh… well, that’s a cheery name,” you tilt your head “that’s… good?”.

Carol gives a small laugh as she stands, slipping her phone back into her pocket “Well, we can’t all be as creative as you Ms Literacy Studies”. You laugh, rolling your eyes as she leaves and the bell rings. Maybe today won’t be that bad. You hope that the bad start to the day just means the day will end on a high.

But you’re wrong.

By the time your last class rolls around, everything is calm. You’ve told Henry he’s off the hook for detention, no one is acting up in your classes and there’s been no gym teachers around. Everything was calm.

“Alright guys,” you announce to the class, glancing at the clock “how’s about you start that grammar worksheet for the last ten minutes of class? If you get it done now then no homework for the night but if not, make sure it’s done by tomorrow”.

The class immediately starts, mumbling chatter and the sounds of rummaging pencil cases filling the room.

You look to the clock again, as if it’ll magically have moved at least five minutes. It hasn’t. But that’s ok, ten more minutes until freedom. You can do that.

“Knock knock” an unfamiliar voice enters, catching both you and your students off guard. A few heads look up to the door but none match the ‘oh fuck’ expression that is plastered across your face.

What makes it worse is that he knows it too, basking in your reaction. You try to hide your expression, quickly masking it but the smug look you’re met with tells you it’s too late for that.

“Coach Negan,” you greet, getting it right this time “what can I do for you?”.

“I’m sure there’s plenty you could do for me” he moves deeper into the room, taking no notice of the students and shooting you a promiscuous grin you ignore.

Making his way over to your desk, he takes his time peering around at the various trinkets that litter the surface: a mug that says “I’d rather be reading” filled with different pens, a colourful stapler, an empty bowl that was filled with sweets about a week ago, and a stress ball.

“No sweet treats going?” he asks teasingly “well besides the obvious”. Negan winks at you, making your face scrunch up with a mixture of confusion and repugnance.

“Is there a reason why you’re here, Coach?” this time you raise your voice a little more, hoping to remind him of the other ears in the room that are undoubtedly listening in.

Concluding that you won’t take the bait that easily, Negan gives you a firm nod “Just hear to let you know detention starts at four o’ five”.

Your eyes go to the students, most of which are focusing on their work. Of course there are some nosy ones that are hanging onto their every word, loving the idea of hearing some juicy teacher gossip. Oh god. The very reminder of gossip makes you want to shiver.

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you lean across the desk “I already told you, Henry won’t be attending detention today”.

You debate saying more but with Negan, simplicity seems to be key. The less you say then the less he has to pick apart or use against you in some taunting way.

“I know, I know,” he concedes “you got some big ol’ lady balls for practically demanding I let him off the hook… and for some of the other shit you said”.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Your eyes go wide but you manage to give him a glare as you scan the class, hoping no one heard him. Unfortunately, going off the number of smirks the kids are trying to hide by looking down at their worksheet, they heard.

You want to argue back, tell him off for using such language in front of the kids you’re in charge of for the next seven minutes but instead, you take a breath.

After all, you catch more flies with honey.

“And I would like to apologise for what I said,” you keep her voice low, just because Negan has no problem with the kids hearing his side of the conversation doesn’t mean they get to hear your response “what I said was completely inappropriate and insensitive, I’m really sorry and-“.

Looking at his watch, Negan acts as if you aren’t even speaking let alone issuing him an apology. “Oh shit, would you look at that, I’ve got to shoot but remember,” he loudly slaps his hands against the desk, poorly creating rhythm as he heads back to the door “you got detention at four o’ five”.

He goes to leave but you speak up again “Wait, what? Me?”.

“Yeah, you're on detention duty” he casually replies.

No, you’re not. That kind of thing gets rostered usually at the monthly staff meetings and considering this is your first year here, they’re yet to bestow such a vital job upon you.

“No I haven’t been scheduled for that-“ you’re seriously getting pissed with how much this guy interrupts you.

“Yes, you are, honey,” he says as if this is well known information “so don’t be late”.

And with that, Negan disappears, leaving you more confused than before. At least he didn’t seem that pissed at you for your previous comments. Still, you don't understand how you didn’t know beforehand that you’re on detention duty or why Negan of all people would willingly seek you out to remind you.

Before you can contemplate it too much, the bell goes and you reboot yourself back into teacher mode.

Once everyone has packed up and left, you let out a long huff, packing up your own belongings before heading to the designated classroom for detention. With the rush of bustling kids wanting to leave, you’re able to get there fast, weaving through the current and into the barren classroom.

Going over to the old cabinet that’s tucked away in the corner, you find the clipboard full of the names of the attendees. You skim it haphazardly, seeing if you recognise any of the names before plonking down at the desk at the top of the room. Although one of your student’s older sisters is supposed to show up, no one that you directly teach is listed, which gives you a strange sense of pride.

Pulling out your phone, your attention span forgets about the clipboard in no time. Just as you do, the phone buzzes in your hand, lighting up with a notification from Alexandria High’s Teacher Midlife Crisis Support Line.

Gregory: Friendly reminder, do not park your vehicles in other people’s spots.

Some students filter into the hall, avoiding eye contact despite the small smile you give each of them. Unsurprisingly, none of them are in a talking mood and take their seats, pulling out homework or some study material to occupy their hour with.

Paul J Monroe : good idea, stop parking in my spot

You move your hand up to cover the smirk tugging at your lips. Gregory, the vice principal, isn't known for his popularity. His entire personality is marked by his distinct sense of entitlement and self-perseveration. It’s baffling that he somehow ended up as vice principal when his leadership style is rooted in only helping himself.

Scrolling through the list of members on the group chat, you recognize a fair amount of names. Of course Carol and Mr Monroe, the counsellor, are in there. The likes of Ms Espinosa the geography and Spanish teacher is there too, as is Mr Abrams the music teacher, both Coach Smiths and surprisingly the Chaplin, Father Stokes, is there too. Unfortunately, most of the names you don’t know, having not done much socialising since getting here.

Sasha: there was a Christmas lights installation van parked across my spot and Rosita’s, will they be there again tomorrow?

Rosita: if it’s there tomorrow I’m slashing its tires

Rosita: that’s a joke

Gregory: I hired them, they’ll be here all week to make things more festive

While waiting to see how the others react to that, you look back at the clipboard, your gaze hardening as you look to the very top of the page. There, in black ink, is the date, followed by which school week this is and finally, the name of the teacher on duty.

And guess what, it sure as shit isn’t your name up there.

If it isn’t for the room full of kids, you would be swearing out loud, having to bite your tongue to stop the words from actually coming out.

That motherfucker. That sly, riddled and sleazy motherfucker. The name Coach N. Smith is at the top of the page with a horizontal line next to it for him to sign, proving that he did actually show up and do his damn job. Yanking your phone back up, you stew silently and watch the messages flow.

Rosita: ur shitting me

Sasha: why weren’t we told about this?!

Gregory: this can be discussed tomorrow

Sasha: discussed tomorrow while they’re parked in our spots AGAIN?

Aaron: Does anyone know where we’re going for the Christmas party? Is it still on for next Friday? Need to hire a babysitter haha :)

Rosita: Gregory?? Reply??

Scrolling to the top of the group chat, you tap to see its members, noticing how it says Gregory is now offline. Typical. Thankfully, Aaron’s message moves the conversation in a new direction and teachers begin to lightly debate whether they should go to the Kingdom for the staff Christmas Party or if they should venture further afield.

Amber: can we not go back to the Kingdom? Pretty sure I got food poisoning last year :S

Gregory: budget for Christmas party is very low this year, if anyone can plan it for next Friday then it can still go ahead.

Rosita: what about our parking spaces? Hello???????

Rosita is once again ignored by Gregory and the topic of the Christmas party stays. You know you shouldn’t be getting such entertainment from this but watching as the teachers try to assert their points, shooting down what the others have to stay while simultaneously trying to stay as polite as possible provides some great amusement.

And, it’s extremely passive aggressive. Oh, what joy.

One of your favourite moments is the science teacher Mr Porter’s response when Gregory struck down his idea of making the Christmas Party a weekend getaway to the closest city.

Eugene: For clarification, are you suggesting the staff members in this here group chat don’t have the sufficient financial funds to rent a hotel room for a night or two?

You want to let out a low ‘ooooo’ noise as if you’re watching a sports game. In all honesty, if you weren’t supervising detention, you probably would be making gleeful noises as you read each text. Gregory ignores Mr Porter’s accusation and instead proposes his own idea.

Gregory: Having it at the school is the best opton, everyone can get there and it’s big enough

You presume that’s a spelling mistake on his part. The next text comes from one of the Coach Smith’s, the one you haven’t badmouthed.

Mark: The gym hall can definitely fit everyone

When you see Mark’s name pop up along with the thumbs up emoji he adds to his text, you go into your options for him, deciding to set yourself a little reminder of who’s who.

Mark (Coach Smith): but I’ll be taking next week off for vacay

Sherry: who’s the new number that’s been added ?

“Miss?” You look up as a student approaches with a bored face “can I borrow a pen? Or even a pencil?”.

“Oh sure!” You perk up, dropping your phone on to your lap so the student can’t see. The last thing you need is to be the teacher who leaked the mere idea of a teacher group chat being real.

Hurriedly typing out your awkward introductory message of yourself to the group, you send it and focus on helping the student. Taking out your little pencil case, you begin rummaging around for a pen you wouldn’t mind a student ruining.

Mark (Coach Smith): so someone else will have to help Negan set up the gym if we decide to have the party there

Sherry: oh are you the new English teacher?? I haven’t had a chance to meet you yet! hi!

After selecting a black pen, you pause, eyeing the kid with suspicion. “Wait… you spent the whole day at school without a pen or pencil?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

You look down at your messages as the student stalls to answer, rocking back and forth on his heels. There’s a strange socially awkward panic that bubbles in you when you see the new message, knowing you can’t be rude and start texting again when dealing with a student.

But at the same time, the longer you stall in answering, the more you’re convinced you’re coming across as being rude to the group chat.

The kid just shrugs “Yeah.”

“How is that even possible?” you start to ask, but the words fade as your phone buzzes again.

With a silent sigh, you hand the pen over, offering it a quiet farewell. Picking up your phone a little too eagerly, you type out a fast response to Sherry’s question.

You: Yes!! :)

Ok, maybe you went a little overkill with the exclamation points and the smiley face but that’s where panic gets ya. Now that the rush is over, you swipe your finger up a little to look at the message you missed.

Gregory: anyone willing to help plan the Christmas party?

Oh fuck. Your stomach drops as you read the order of messages again. Mark saying he’ll be gone, offering up the gym for the staff Christmas party while knowing full well he’s gone the week leading up to it and won't even be attending.

Sherry asking if you’re the new English teacher.

Gregory, who would rather ask others to help rather than offer any help himself, wondering if someone else can help set up the party.

And then you, enthusiastically texting in a yes. Fuck. Please no. No, no, no. That message was in response to Sherry's message!

You put your phone on the table, screen facing down as you lean back in your chair. This can’t be happening. The last person you want to be around is Negan, never mind plan a goddamn Christmas party with him!

You take some deep breaths, hoping that your message won’t be misread. Surely, it won’t be, not to anyone who was actually paying attention to the different conversations happening.

It buzzes again, louder this time as it vibrates off the table. You don’t want to pick it up. You don’t want to see what it is and yet you still reach for it. Slowly flipping your phone to see the screen, there’s only one new message from the group chat.

It’s Gregory, calling you by your teacher name as he replies…

Gregory: great! I’ll leave it to you and Negan to sort out the finer details

———

Read Chapter 2 here!

gif made from scenepack provided by harleys.scenes on insta <3

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