#and then more snow coming in on saturday

[angerygoomba]

listening to ants from up there like a normal healthy person that has relationships that they know will thrive and will not be lost and is certain of their future and enjoys whats happening today and what was happening yesterday and last week and last month. and im cool about it

[granonine]

Saturday Soliloquy: Snow and Nonsense

The weather forecast finally got it right. We got the full four inches of snow, maybe a little more, that was predicted. And I understand there may be more on the way. I love the day after a snowstorm. Everything looks so clean! Often, the sky is what I call “heartbreak blue,” but today we have some grey clouds floating around up there, but not filling the sky. Blue is breaking through. And it’s…

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

When your best-friend Steve Harrington asks you to hold his fleshlight for him.

It wasn’t really something that either of you planned on happening. But then it just did. Steve had been pent up from work all day from typical annoying patrons, smart mouthed jocks from the high school, that were freshmen when he was a senior (tenfold karma, Harrington), and Keith’s particular way of criticizing his every move out of some form of nerdy revenge. You could count on one hand the times that Steve had to bail out of your two person movie nights on Fridays (Saturdays were for dates and Sundays were for hanging with the rest of the parties and running kids around), and tonight happened to be one of those occurrences. Usually, it would be for self-care or whatever reason he needed to spend alone, but when he’d barely shed his leather jacket upon entering his house, dusting snow off of his boots — he was about to crawl out of his skin by the time his massive palm was wrapped around the receiver, thumb strangled by its cord.

He was… off? And seconds after he’d cancelled without much reason, the line went dead. You wanted to give him space, especially because he usually called back to tell you goodnight. But after being unable to sit still and finish a generous portion of the large pepperoni pizza you’d ordered the two of you, you were grabbing your keys for the journey over to his place.

~*~

It didn’t take but five minutes before you reached Steve’s house, pulling in behind his familiar car. You dangle the copy - made spare from your pointer finger, trekking your way up to the door and letting yourself in, wiping at your wind-whipped, wet eyes. You know he’s not on the first floor, its entirety dark and a little cool. So you toss your coat and keys onto the small table beside the entryway, kicking off your boots to join his on the cheesy welcome mat, and you make your way to the second floor landing to his bedroom. Seeing a buttery glow spill out from the crack in his doorway, you’d proceeded, only to be met with a sight that only appeared in your late night fantasies… and pretty much your every waking thought.

Steve is facing his mattress, sheets tousled and clothing pooled beside him, stood on the left side of his bed, naked and glistening in the perspiration of teasing, observing his massive length as he edges himself, moving the toy slowly over his cock. You know what it is, you’ve seen it in magazines and stores, in some porn. A fleshlight, they call it. Your brain goes through a million thoughts at a couple seconds to spare.

Why doesn’t he have someone here to do this with? He can get a date?

Is he okay? Obviously he’s very okay.

Holy fuck… he’s big.

Holy fuck… he’s beautiful.

A little more than usual, waiting on the summer sun to tan his freckle and mole spattered skin. His hair has grown longer, curling at the nape, his shoulder blades and biceps defined from a regular regime. And that ass, the way it flexes and is perfectly plump, connecting to those hairy thighs and big feet, his own toes curling when he twists, a wet squelch coming from the faux cunt. There’s beautiful chestnut curls scattered across him sternum and connecting to a trail that surrounds his base and those full, heavy, balls. That cock… thick, barely able to be pushed back into the toy, his fingers having to peel back its soft pink layers to help ease the slick way, decorated in a vein that matches the one running along his forearm

And you must make some sort of noise, because your lips part to let in a gasp of air, causing his body to twist in a sudden defensive stance, clenching the toy so tight with a ‘caught’ pose. You go to move and the door spills open completely, slamming back into his dresser and shaking old sports trophies. You’re panting, seeking out the words to apologize, Steve is wincing from how hard he still is, attempting to cover his modesty. But the air shifts in the room and you gain a boldness, a restlessness that won’t be satiated, nor a conscience satisfied if you don’t ask.

“Can I help you?” A customer service line from working at Scoops with him. But it comes naturally.

Steve, biting his lip, disheveled — he nods. And it’s happening. A tickling ease, a line crossed.

“C’mhere.” He’s waving with his opposite hand. His ribcage expands as he gulps in lungfuls of air.

You’re at his side shortly, shyly. “W-what do you need me to do?”

His spare hand pushes back through his hair, amber gaze gone to a midnight sky, teeth milky white, defined jawline covered in stubble, and a perfect nose. His voice is raspy when he lets you know what he needs.

“Go get on my bed, lay back for me. Please?”

A fucking gentleman.

All of your clothes feel too tight, smothering you as you lay back on his bed, his pillow immediately invading you. Your hands are unsure of where to go, but he approaches slowly, kneeling his way into kneeling by your feet. “I’m gonna… Can I use this between your legs, honey? You don’t have to do anything, just let me do all the work.” He motions to the toy and you want nothing more, suddenly offered the world.

It’s your turn to say it now. “C’mhere.”

He’s using that enriched tendon covered forearm to prop himself up beside of your head, slotting right between your knees, his remaining hand wrapped so tightly around the toy that his skin is pulled taunt over his knuckles. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, releases it, licks it, and then he’s asking, “Can I?”

“Go. Do what you need to do. I’m right here, Steve.”

If you thought the toy was loud before, the sound of him working his lengthy girth through its walls right in front of you now — it’s surround sound. You’re watching, unable to help it, bones threaten to be dusted to ash from how hard your heart is ramming beneath your breastbone.

“Wanted to come over, but it’s been a shit week, an even shitter day. And I just needed to —“

“— Release some tension, right? I get it, I do it too. I have a cock that goes… I —“ you stop your horny rambling, face feeling too much warmed.

Steve’s face scrunches, teeth gritting, and he twists the toy until slowing it almost completely. “Tell me what you do. You fuck yourself with it, right? When everything is too much and not enough? Fuck, honey.”

He doesn’t verbalize, but you don’t either, simply accept the toy and hold it against your denim covered cunt, leaving Steve’s hands free to hold on either side of you, his nose nudging yours as he leans down — here, present. You copy his earlier motions, using the toy to glide along his length as he thrusts into it with a new focussed vigor. “That’s it. You feel so good, honey. Workin’ me so right.”

“I’m soaking — fucking — wet for you, Steve. Just so you know.”

His hips stutter and his nose finds its way into your eyelashes, cheek pressing into your own. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum into this thing, and I want —“

“— You want what, Steve?” You hold your breath.

He answers without fear or pause. “You.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 7 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: hangover, curses, alcohol, leg day at the gym, jungkook's reputation, a v dangerous game of spin the bottle, explicit content: jungkook's ass, hickeys, oral sex (female and male receiving), praising, fingering, marking, mouth fucking, hair pulling, spitting, degradation, protected sex,

☆word count: 15k (whoops)

☆a/n: more frustration?? and then not. Enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, March 2nd

[08:12 am] bröther👽: call me when ure up

You’ve been ignoring the text since you woke up an hour and a half ago. Pretending that you never received it, pretending that Jimin held his promise and didn’t tell anything to Taehyung. 

It’s a foolish dream – the text is proof enough that Taehyung knows, or at least perhaps suspects something about you and Jungkook. You don’t know what to do, what to think, so you ignore it altogether.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, it’ll disappear.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, yesterday won’t have happened. 

Jungkook invades your thoughts, his drunken kiss chasing everything else away. Your blood heats up, your cheeks redden, and your heart is beating faster in your chest as you relive the scene, again and again. 

You’ve been reliving it all night long, the ghost of his soft lips on yours haunting you in your sleep. 

You sigh, rolling on your side, hiding your face in your pillow. You’re aware you should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to, too afraid to run into Jungkook. Though you haven’t heard him move from his room, and you assume he’s fighting against his hangover, or maybe he’s still asleep. Another sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your back, looking up to the ceiling. 

Maybe Jungkook was drunk enough to forget about last night. It’d make things easier - maybe then you won’t have to confront him at all. But you know it’s wishful thinking - he was steady enough to kiss you dumb, so you highly doubt he’ll forget.

Especially if the kiss stole the breath from him like it did to you…

You groan, turning to hide your face in a pillow again. Maybe you should disappear, vanish into shadows until you don’t have to talk to your brother or to Jungkook. Or maybe you should just move to another country and start a new life.

You hate this. You wish it’d be easier, simpler, but of course you had to get involved with your brother’s best friend. It feels like the start of a corny teenage drama, the kind of thing you’d once watched with reverence.

Now you know it to be hell. 

Your phone vibrates a couple of times on the mattress where you left it, multiple text messages coming in at the same time. You raise your head from the pillow, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen, but from this angle you can’t see who texted you. Annoyed, you roll until you can grab your phone, and you look down at the screen, squinting your eyes.

Your eyes widen, and your heart stops beating far too long for it to be normal. And then you gulp, rereading the messages to make sure you aren’t imagining anything.

[10:12 am] bröther👽: plz call soon, got some plans tonight [10:12 am] Nabi: do u want to go shopping this afternoon? [10:12 am] JK: sorry about last night. do we have painkillers?

The texts don’t change. In truth, you don’t mind about Taehyung or Nabi. You just didn’t expect Jungkook to text you, especially not to apologize. It makes you think about the kiss, though differently this time. 

Is he really apologetic? Or does he only believe it to be the right thing to do? You can’t tell. But you still get out of bed, going to the bathroom so that you can retrieve painkillers for him. You make a pit-stop by the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and then you walk to his bedroom. You stop in front of the door, heart suddenly beating out of your chest. 

This is just Jungkook, you try to remind yourself. Nothing to be worried about. Except that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that you fucked, and that you can’t really get him out of your head now…

You take a deep steadying breath, and then you gently rap your knuckles on the door. You wait for a few seconds, awaiting an answer, but none come. 

“Jungkook?” you let out.

A long groan replies, and you can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips.

“Can I come in?”

Another groan answers, though this time Jungkook eventually says, “Yes.”

So you turn the doorknob, pushing the door open. Jungkook’s room is neater than you’d expected it to be - a few scattered items of clothing lay on the floor, and the dark monitor of his PC setup faces you. You scan the rest of the room, your cheeks turning bright red when you notice Jungkook.

Mostly, you notice Jungkook’s ass, as he’s lying on his belly, naked, over the covers. 

“Put some damn clothes on,” you blurt, looking away from him.

He groans. “Don’t speak so loud, shit.” A few seconds of silence, and then he adds, “Besides, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“You have no shame,” you grumble, but you still step into his room. “I got you painkillers.”

“Why have shame when you’ve got a body like mine?” he teases, raising his head. A boyish smile sports his lips, though he quickly lets his head fall back down, grunting. “Thanks for the painkillers.”

To your relief, he pulls a blanket over him as he turns, hiding the lower half of his body. He sits up, wincing, and you hand the water and the pills to him. He looks at them like they’re foreign, before patting the bed next to him.

“Don’t be shy,” he says, leaning back against his headboard. The one you’ve heard banging in your wall way too many times. “I don’t bite.”

You roll your eyes. “Just take the damn pills.”

He pouts, lower lip jutting out, and you ignore the way it makes your heart race in your chest. He finally grabs the painkillers, and you blush as your fingers brush, electricity jolting through you.

How can he have such an effect on you?

“Thank you,” Jungkook lets out once he’s taken the white pills and downed the water.

You nod. “I’ll let you sleep it off, now.”

“Is my room so not inviting?” he teases as you’re walking out. 

You turn around, leaning against the door frame, arms folded on your chest. “We can’t do this.”

“We can be friends,” he says, features serious as he holds your gaze. Though you struggle to keep your eyes on his - his strong body invites the gaze, and you seek to explore the planes of his body.

He must have noticed it because he breaks into a smirk

“Friends wear clothes around each other,” you reply.

He rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. “Is my body that bad?”

“Do you really need the compliment that bad?”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “So you admit it would be a compliment?”

You shut your eyes in annoyance. “You’re insufferable, Jungkook.”

When your eyes flutter open to that same boyish grin on his lips, you feel yourself folding. You tell him you’ll just get your phone in your room, and then you walk back to his bedroom, hesitantly crossing the threshold. He’s already lying down again, and he’s thankfully pulled the blanket higher over his body.

You sit on the side of his bed, clutching your phone in your hands as if it’s a lifeline. Jungkook’s gaze is heavy on your profile, and you glance at him.

“Don’t worry about yesterday,” you tell him, meeting his gaze.

Big eyes welcome you in, and you feel entranced. You wonder if he feels the same - if your gaze is prison to his eyes as well.

“Are you sure?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

You shrug. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

“You did.” He slowly breaks into a smirk. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a lot.”

“Oh my God,” you let out, making to get up and leave. Jungkook is quick - he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion.

“I’m just teasing you, peach.”

“You can’t tease me like that,” you scold him. “We can’t do that.”

He lets go of your wrist, almost reluctantly. His fingers twitch as they fall on his bed between the two of you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and you’re surprised at how genuine he sounds.

You nod once. “No worries.”

Eyes locked on his, you both fall silent. You feel like you’re falling forward, like Jungkook really is the sun pulling in the comet that you are. You wonder if he reads everything in your eyes - if he knows that the moment you fucked for the first time, you were gone.

You hate that you are. You feel weak, but how can you resist?

The sound of ringing startles you, cutting through the tension in the room. You look down at your phone in your hands, and your heart drops to your ass at the picture of Taehyung looking back at you.

And maybe you’re hungover too, or perhaps still drunk. Because you don’t think about it - you answer the Facetime call, and you smile a tight-lipped smile as you wait for it to connect.

“Hey loser,” Taehyung greets you when you appear.

The moment his eyes narrow, eyebrows bunching together, you realize your mistake. Somehow, you take it in stride, immediately crafting a lie out of thin air.

Or maybe half a lie.

“Your loser of a best friend got so drunk he needed me to give him painkillers,” you offer as an explanation, and you turn the camera towards Jungkook, who gives a thumbs up, face hidden in his mattress.

“Sounds on brand,” Taehyung replies, features relaxing. “Tough party yesterday?”

“He hosted your friends over here,” you explain, surveying Taehyung through the screen. “He and Jimin got pissed out drunk.”

“Hey, I wasn’t that drunk,” Jungkook interjects, faking offence.

“Shut the fuck up, JK,” Taehyung says, and you really try to read his features. 

Has Jimin told him anything after all?

“What are your plans tonight?” you ask your brother, trying to stir the conversation away from yesterday.

Taehyung smiles. “Date night with this girl,” he says, and he turns the camera towards a pretty girl that you recognize from the Instagram Jungkook showed you. 

“Tae!” she shrieks, and she turns away from the camera.

“She’s shy,” Taehyung says, chuckling. “But we’re going to go eat at a restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.”

“Romantic,” you chime.

His smile grows wider, and you see it in his eyes. You see the light overtaking them, the fond softness that makes him look so young and vulnerable. “Always.” 

There’s a shared silence, interrupted by the shuffling of Jungkook behind you. You look over your shoulder to find him sitting again, and you can’t stop your eyes from dipping down.

You hate that the sheet has slipped. Because you see his semi for half a second before he’s able to hide himself again. If he noticed, Jungkook doesn’t let it show, instead saying into your phone, “Partying without you isn’t the same, bro.”

“We’ll party when you get here,” Taehyung promises. “The French know how to party.”

You stare at Jungkook’s reflection on the screen of your phone, at the smirk that grows on his lips. “Oh, we’ll have catching up to do, I’m sure.”

“Think I can still beat you at beer pong?” Taehyung asks, grinning at his friend.

“Good luck with that,” Jungkook replies. “I’ve been perfecting my form.”

Taehyung bursts out laughing, and Jungkook chuckles behind you. It’s a cute sound - the one he reserves for his close friends. You like the sound, like that he’s comfortable enough around you to let you hear it.

The two friends keep on talking, Jungkook seemingly healed from his hungover as he goes on and on about stuff that happened yesterday. He avoids everything related to you, but he speaks about Lisa, far more than you expected he would. 

So you gulp, listening to him praise the girl, listening to Taehyung asking when he’ll fuck her. It does something ugly to you, and your features fall, though the two men seem to be too focused on their conversation to notice.

Until Jungkook’s gaze dances on your features, and he says, “Sorry, I hi-jacked the conversation.”

You shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

Yet he slightly furrows his brow, concern seeping into his gaze. It stays for the rest of the conversation, as Taehyung’s girlfriend - Ariane - finally joins in. They look happy, and for a moment, jealousy steals your heart. You’re good at hiding it though, far better than you hide your disappointment from Jungkook speaking about Lisa, and soon enough the conversation reaches its natural end, Ariane and Taehyung needing to head to their reservation.

You tell them goodbye, Jungkook waving at them over your shoulder. The moment the call disconnects, Jungkook says, “You know I don’t care about Lisa.”

You glance at him. “Okay?”

“I’m just trying to make sure he’s not unto us…” he sheepishly adds. “Jimin texted some shit in the group chat last night.”

Your throat goes dry. “He did?”

Jungkook’s tongue darts to toy with his piercings, and he nods once. “Yeah.”

You wait for him to say more, but he only looks at you, features unreadable. “What did he say?” you ask after a few seconds of holding his gaze.

“That you and I are pretty friendly,” he admits. “With a lot of emojis.”

You shut your eyes. “Tae is going to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about you,” Jungkook reassures you, chuckling lightly. “If he kills someone, I guarantee it will be me.”

“Fuck.”

He nods, then shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.” He holds your gaze for a few more seconds, before glancing outside. “Anyways, I think I’ll head to the gym.”

You tilt your head to the side, a small, disbelieved laugh escaping your mouth. “Aren’t you hungover?”

“Working out helps with headaches,” Jungkook explains. “At least for me.”

Unconvinced, you nod once, and then you get up from where you were sitting on his bed. You cast another glance around his room - your eyes still on a frame with two young boys in Disney World, smiling brightly. You recognize Jungkook in the youngest one, and something about the fact he keeps a picture of him when he was younger on his bedside table is far too endearing.

“You have a brother?” you ask.

His eyes trail to the pictures. “Yeah, Junghyun.”

“I’ve never heard about him before.”

He smiles, winking at you. “You never asked.”

You roll your eyes, though a smile curves your lips upwards as well. “Alright then, I’ll let you go to the gym.”

“Want to come with?” Jungkook asks.

You widen your gaze. “I don’t really go to the gym.”

Jungkook slips out of bed, keeping his sheet around his waist. The muscles on his abdomen move under his skin, and you can’t help but glance down, remembering his semi-erection earlier. You flush entirely red, and Jungkook laughs, clearly knowing where your mind went.

“Never too late to start, peach,” he teases. “I can help you.”

“I’m supposed to go shopping with Nabi this afternoon,” you say, though you haven’t accepted your friend’s invitation yet.

“You don’t need more clothes,” Jungkook says, heading towards a drawer. You watch as he rummages through it, before pulling a pair of black Calvin Klein underwear from it. “You’ve got plenty enough already.”

“And?” you let out. “Girls go shopping for more than clothes, Jungkook.”

He winks at you, before turning his back to you. The sheet drops to the floor, and you immediately look away as he puts his underwear on, facing you again when he’s finally hidden himself from you.

“Please?”

“Please what?” you ask.

“Please come with me?”

There’s a light in his eyes. Something hopeful, vulnerable, and it takes you aback. So much so that you almost take a step back. Your heart goes wild in your chest again, and you hold his gaze.

What would have happened between you and Jeon Jungkook if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend?

“Why do you want me to come?” you ask, sounding a little breathless.

“You’re fun to be around,” Jungkook offers as an explanation, shrugging. “And I prefer working out with people.”

“Can’t you invite Jimin or someone else?”

Jungkook pouts. “Jimin’s hangovers are a lot worse than mine. He won’t want to go out.”

You sigh, holding Jungkook’s gaze as you ponder if you should go or not. If it’s a good idea to spend friendly time with Jungkook after everything that’s happened. But you don’t seem to be able to escape his orbit. Not when his gravity is so strong, his eyes so open.

“Alright,” you say. “But don’t expect me to lift heavy.”

*****

You meet Jungkook in the hall after you’ve both eaten a small breakfast - nothing too heavy before the gym, as Jungkook said. He offers you a friendly smile, and then he looks down your frame, the smile melting into a smirk that makes your blood eat up in your veins.

“You look hot, peach.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ve never seen a girl in sports leggings before?” you ask as you make your way to the closet so that you can pull your coat out.

Jungkook is already wearing his, and he watches you as you put your coat on, stuffing your phone in the pocket before zipping it up.

“None that look as good as you,” he flirts.

“Shut up,” you grumble, slightly shaking your head. 

“What! It’s true,” he insists, and you push him towards the door so that he moves away from your boots. 

You put them on, before grabbing a pair of sneakers from the closet as well. Once you straighten, Jungkook grabs the shoes from you, stuffing them in his gym bag as you go to retrieve your purse from where you left it in the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing it before putting your boots on.

You meet Jungkook in the hall again, and he leads you outside, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Careful, it’s pretty icy.”

You nod, and you hold onto the railing of the staircase, following behind Jungkook after you’ve locked the door. You successfully make it to the bottom, and then he guides you to his car. As you climb in the passenger seat, Jungkook throws his gym bag on the backseat, before walking around the car to sit behind the wheel.

As he turns the key in the engine, you pull your phone out of your pocket. You go to Nabi’s conversation, feeling bad that you will have to decline her invitation.

[11:09 am] You: can’t, going to the gym

Jungkook pulls out in the street, and then he’s driving towards his gym, turning the music on. He hums to the radio, seemingly fully at ease. You don’t know how he does it - your heart is racing in your chest at the perspective of going to the gym with him. 

[11:11 am] Nabi: the fuck [11:12 am] Nabi: who are you going with

You debate telling her the truth for the whole ride to the gym, and some more as you walk in. Jungkook hands you your sneakers as you stop in the place where you have to take your boots off, and then he offers to keep your coat and purse in a locker with his stuff. You accept, though you ask to buy a water bottle for yourself first.

“I got you covered, peach,” Jungkook says, flicking your nose. “I brought a reusable one for you.”

“How kind,” you tease, and he grins boyishly before heading into the men’s locker room. 

You wait for him outside, eyes on the conversation with Nabi. You wonder what she would say if she knew - would she tease you about the Incident? Would she freak out like you know Ria would?

You say to hell with it, and you reply to her last text with the truth before turning the screen off, looking up to watch Jungkook as he walks out of the locker room, now clad in athletic shorts and a skintight black t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. 

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, and he hands you the water bottle he mentioned. 

It’s already full, and you take a small sip before nodding your head. “What do we start with?”

Jungkook smiles softly for a few seconds, and then his features grow conflicted. He looks away from you, his Adam’s apple bobbing once as he swallows. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking of right now, though life doesn’t work that way.

And would you be able to handle the truth anyway?

“We warm up with cardio, and then it’s leg day,” he tells you as he motions towards the corner with all the cardio machines. “Let’s see how much you can squat, peach.”

You snort as you follow him. “Are you just trying to get a good look at my ass?”

You’re relieved when he bites, offering you his usual cocky smirk. “So what if I am?”

“You’re disgusting,” you say, though you laugh with him as you reach the treadmills. “By the way,” you let out as you both climb on a treadmill, turning them on. “I’m hosting some friends at the apartment tonight. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh are you now?” Jungkook teases. “And you were mad at me for it yesterday?”

You glare at him, right as he helps you with increasing the speed of the treadmill. “I got it,” you say, swatting his hand away. “This is not my first time at the gym.” You pause, adjusting the walking speed and the inclination of the treadmill to your preferred setting, and then you turn to look at Jungkook again. “I wasn’t mad at you for hosting friends, I was mad because you didn’t warn me.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t planned in advance,” Jungkook reveals. “Jimin cornered me at the library while I was finishing my shift with Sera and they looked way too excited. I suggested our place because they’re always the ones hosting us.”

You’re not surprised Jungkook would offer - he’s a good friend to those he cares about. 

“Makes sense,” you let out. “So I’m telling you about tonight in advance, see?”

“It’s tonight,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

“And?”

“I’d hardly call it in advance.”

You sigh, looking up to the ceiling. “Whatever.”

“Hope your friends don’t mind me around,” Jungkook says after a whole minute of silence.

You shoot him a surprised look. “Don’t you have plans tonight?”

“Yeah, your party.”

“It’s not a party.”

He shrugs. “I’ll be there nonetheless.”

The thought of Jungkook staying when your friends will be there makes you anxious, and you quickly shake your head no. “You can’t.”

He frowns. “Why not? It’s my apartment too.”

“I don’t…” you trail off, thinking of Ria and her obsession with him.

You know her enough to know she’d jump on the occasion to seduce Jungkook. If she knew what happened between the two of you, she wouldn’t approach him at all - but she doesn’t know.

None of them do, except Hoseok, and even then he doesn’t really know.

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Jungkook says, winking, and then he increases the speed of his treadmill to a run that doesn’t allow a conversation at the same time.

You follow suit, just so that you can blame the hammering of your heart in your chest on something else than the fear of what is going to happen tonight. You’d hoped Jungkook had something planned - anything, really - but maybe that had been wishful thinking.

Maybe you should have told him well in advance, asking him to clear the apartment tonight. But he’s been nice, if you forget about the fact he kissed you stupid last night. You don’t have it in you to push him away when he’s acting so… nicely. 

And he keeps acting that way all through the gym. Even though you’re not nearly as strong as him, Jungkook encourages you, helps you with every exercise. You do notice him ogling your ass while you’re squatting, but you do the same to him, and he calls it even as you roll your eyes, blushing furiously. 

It’s fun. It always is – spending time with Jungkook, that is. His easy laugh and smile keep the conversation alive, alight, and you don’t notice the time fly when Jungkook guides you to the mats, where he claims you’ll do some planks and then stretch.

You plop down on the mat, legs feeling like jelly, and Jungkook’s giggle fills your ear, warming your chest. You glance at him, catching him as he smiles down at you.

“We went easy,” he teases, sitting next to you. “You’re adorable.”

“You call that easy?” you let out in fake outrage. “I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“Oh, won’t you now?” 

You roll your eyes at the innuendo in his voice. “Shut up.”

He grins, patting his pockets. As a frown moves on his features, you push yourself up, sitting.

“Is there something wrong?” you ask.

“I think I left my phone at the squat rack,” Jungkook answers. “Wait here, I’ll go see if it’s still there.”

You don’t have time to say anything before he’s jogging away, and you follow him with your gaze as he makes his way to the squat rack you used earlier. He doesn’t find his phone there – he shoots a look in your direction, and then he’s heading to the reception, to likely ask if someone brought his phone there.

You sigh before grabbing your own phone. You’re about to turn it back on when someone clears their throat, and you look up, eyes slightly widened in surprise.

“Hey,” a buff guy says. “You’re with JK?”

It takes you an awkward four seconds before you reply, “Yeah?”

The guy smiles, nodding once. “Thought so. I just wanted to warn you, that guy is a dick.”

“Excuse me?”

You can’t help it – the offence that takes over you at someone insulting Jungkook burns like acid in your mouth, and you frown as you look up at the buff guy. He raises his hands in defence, but you just keep on staring him down.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.” The guy’s hands fall at his side, clenching into fists once before he releases it. “We used to be friends, until my ex cheated on me with him,” he offers as an explanation. “I’d hate to see him hurt someone else.”

Though you do feel bad for the guy, you’re still offended – does he believe Jungkook is out to hurt you?

Is Jungkook out to hurt you?

“Listen, don’t worry about me,” you eventually say, not wanting to fight with someone that looks like they could kill you with one well-placed punch. “We’re just friends.”

The guy’s features relax, and his smile feels more genuine now. “Good, I’m glad.” He doesn’t move for a few seconds, and then he catches sight of Jungkook jogging back towards you. You meet Jungkook’s gaze at the same time as the guy says, “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

You don’t say anything, and Jungkook stops next to you, barely winded from jogging around. He drops on the mat next to you, phone in hand.

“What did Colton want with you?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing, really. He was just wondering if we were together.”

“Together?” Jungkook repeats, teasing tone in employ.

You cock an eyebrow. “Not like that, dumbass.”

He pouts, though he doesn’t say anything else. And when you look at him like this, you can’t believe he’d cheat on one of his friends. He’s always seemed like a good friend – hell, an hour ago you’d thought him to be a good friend to those he cares about. Which means he probably never cared about the guy – Colton.

But isn’t there something ugly in the act of cheating with someone that’s in a relationship? 

“So we’re doing three minutes of planks,” Jungkook tells you. 

“Three?!” you shriek.

He chuckles. “One minute of regular plank, and then one minute on each side.”

“Bruh.”

“You can do it, peach.”

He gets into position, and you reluctantly imitate him, mind still swirling with what he’s done. At the beginning of the semester, you wouldn’t have been surprised by that fact, yet now it feels odd, strange, even a little disturbing. As if for a moment you forgot how much of an arrogant asshole Jungkook can be, as if you forgot the reputation that follows him.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken up other couples than this Colton and his ex.

If Jungkook notices your unease, he doesn’t mention it. He does his planks like a champ, while you’re shaking for your life next to him, and then he shows you his stretching routine. You copy everything, and then you follow him back to the man’s locker room, waiting outside for him to change back into his clothes. 

Colton goes into the locker room before Jungkook comes out, and he nods to you as he passes in front of you. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, and then watch him disappear at the bend in the hall. Jungkook gets out a couple of minutes later, as you’re turning on your phone again.

At the sight of the frown on his features, and the light red tint on his cheeks, you can only assume that he and Colton had a talk.

“Something wrong?” you ask him.

“No.” His answer is curt, almost cold, and you widen your gaze slightly as he hands you your stuff.

He barely waits for you to put your coat on before he’s walking to where you can grab your boots, and you awkwardly jog behind him, thighs burning, almost afraid he’s going to leave without you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you insist as you kick off your shoes, putting your boots on.

“Honestly peach,” Jungkook says. “Just drop it.”

It’s your turn to frown. “Did Colton speak to you?”

His silence is answer enough.

“Fuck that dude, Jungkook,” you try to reassure him, but it doesn’t look like it works.

Maybe because you’ve changed since Colton spoke to you, thoughts of Jungkook being a cheater haunting you.

“Just put your boots on,” Jungkook dismisses you, and anger starts welling in your chest.

You don’t say anything until you’re out of the gym, Jungkook’s car just a couple of meters away.

“You don’t have to act like a dick with me, you know?” you tell him.

Jungkook spins around to face you, and you almost bump into him. You catch yourself at the last second, and you look up to meet Jungkook’s dark gaze. Even in the light of the day, shadows are hiding behind his pupils. It makes him look raw – like he’s been chased by demons of his own, thoughts haunting him in ways you can’t understand.

“I’m not being a dick with you, peach,” he drawls. “We’re just friends, and I don’t feel like talking.”

Oh.

“Are you upset because I told him that we’re just friends?”

“I’m upset because that fucker told you stuff I’d rather you not know,” Jungkook answers, voice slowly rising as he fails to put his anger in check.

You furrow your brows. “Everyone knows your reputation, Jungkook.”

He recoils. He physically recoils, taking a step back as if you’ve just punched him in the face. You feel bad – you feel infinitely bad, as his gaze grows pained for a few seconds before the anger hides it away again.

“Right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Why do you want to be my friend, then?”

“Because people are going to say shit,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

He laughs, but it’s so cold, devoid of any warmth he’s offered to you recently. “Before you start believing some shit, I was fucking the girl before Colton got in a relationship with her. I told him she wasn’t trustworthy, and we fucked at a party again after she told me she dumped him.”

“You don’t need to tell me this.”

“Oh, but I do.” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “Colton’s always been jealous of me, and when I told him what happened he just got mad, and refused to listen to me.”

You get why – whoever that girl was, Colton probably had feelings for her. And it sucks to see someone you like getting it on with one of your friends.

Jungkook’s gaze moves from yours to the door of the gym, and you look behind you to see Colton walking out. He notices the two of you, and you think you see him rolling his eyes in the distance.

“Let’s go home,” you tell Jungkook, walking around him to reach his car. 

Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, but then he does, unlocking the doors as he makes his way to the driver’s side. You get in, and the engine purrs to life as Jungkook turns the key in the ignition.

There are a few seconds of silence as he adjusts the warmth, and then he looks at you.

“I wouldn’t have slept with her if they were still together,” he says.

His big eyes hold so much innocence that you immediately believe him. You don’t know if you should, if you’ve just been ensnared, the prey to the spider, but you’re in too deep him.

You’re already in too fucking deep.

“I know, Jungkook,” you reassure him. “Don’t let this dude get to your head.”

You see his Adam’s apple bobbing once, and then he nods and faces forward, getting ready to drive. You can’t divert your gaze from his profile, and you find yourself gulping.

You really are in too deep.

*****

Turns out that letting Jungkook stay for your get-together was a good idea. Indeed, he’s cooked noodles for everyone, and your friends have been eating, praising Jungkook for his skills. He only shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it’s nothing, but you know he likes the praise.

It shows in the way his eyes swim with stars, so far from the shadows that invaded his gaze earlier at the gym. 

And you’ve been trying not to think about it too much. Not to think that whenever Ria looks in his direction, you feel something ugly twisting in your chest. So far, Jungkook hasn’t given her any attention, but you know her – she doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants.

Tonight, what she wants is Jeon Jungkook. 

You’re not the only one who’s been monitoring the two – Seokjin, with his quiet and calm presence, has been looking at your friend ever since everyone got to your apartment. You think you see his disappointment as Ria barely speaks to him, though you don’t know him well enough to tell.

Jungkook turns out to be a good barman as well. He takes everyone’s order when you finish eating, and then he heads to the kitchen to make every drink. Ria follows him, and you clench your jaw, though Hoseok immediately follows as well, offering you a wink.

You’re lucky you have him. Otherwise, tonight would surely go to shit real quick.

“Didn’t know your roommate was so chill,” Yoongi says from where he’s sitting on the couch. 

You’re currently sitting on the floor next to Nabi, with Namjoon on the other side of her. They’ve been conversing just them two for a while, but Yoongi’s statement attracts their attention.

“I mean, with the reputation that he has…” Namjoon trails off.

You cock an eyebrow, indignant. “What’s wrong with his reputation?”

Nabi turns to you, eyes going wide, while Seokjin’s lips spread into a small smile. Yoongi snorts, though you keep the eyebrow cocked, meeting Namjoon’s gaze.

“I mean, isn’t he the guy that’s fucked most of the campus?” Namjoon asks, sounding far too innocent.

“What’s wrong with it?” you challenge. “Wouldn’t you fuck the whole campus if you could?”

Namjoon looks scared now. His gaze falls to Nabi, who shrugs and meets your eyes again. “Why are you so pressed?” she asks, though her lips spread into a smile. “Is it because of the Incident?”

You roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “It’s not.”

“The Incident?” Yoongi chimes in.

You send a warning glare towards Nabi, before saying, “Nothing.”

“What’s nothing?” Jungkook’s familiar voice says as he walks back from the kitchen.

He’s holding two gin and tonics, and he offers the first one to you, before handing the other to Seokjin. Everyone stays suspiciously silent as Jungkook walks back to where you’re sitting, before plopping down on the floor next to you.

Nabi loses it. She bursts out laughing, and your cheeks burn as you punch her in the shoulder.

“Ow!” she shrieks.

Hoseok and Ria walk out of the kitchen then. Hoseok has two beers – one for himself and one for Namjoon – while Ria carries a cranberry vodka for herself and a whiskey on ice for Yoongi. You see the slight frown on her face as she notices Jungkook next to you. It’s only there for a fraction of a second, and then her gaze slides to you, an eyebrow cocking.

When a small, knowing smirk grows on her lips, you feel like disappearing through the floor.

After that, conversations start around you once more, as Ria sits on the couch between Yoongi and Seokjin, and Hoseok sits in front of you, on the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook leans closer to you, trying to catch your gaze, and you turn your head towards him.

“What?” you ask.

“Do you like your drink?”

He’s cute like this. Big eyes awaiting your answer as if it’s the most important thing he’ll hear all night, tongue toying with his piercings anxiously. The glint in his eyes resembles a star, and for a moment you bask in its glow.

Until you snap back to reality when he slowly frowns.

“Is it bad?” he asks.

“No!” you quickly say. “Not at all. I like it.” You make a show of taking a big sip, and though it’s stronger than your usual, you still offer him a small nod. “See, it’s delicious.”

His lips curve upwards. “Good.”

You smile softly, your eyes falling to his empty hands in his lap. The tattoos on the back of his right hand are stark on his skin, and your eyes slowly trail up his arm up to where the ink disappears in the sleeve of his oversized white t-shirt. He’s smirking by the time you meet his gaze again, and you gulp, eyes falling to your drink as if searching for a safe haven.

“You’re not drinking?” you ask.

“Never two nights in a row,” he replies.

You don’t buy his act at all, as you’ve seen him drinking more than two days in a row a lot of times already.

“Bullshit,” you call him out.

He narrows his gaze. “What do you mean, bullshit?”

“You drink all the time,” you state.

Though as you say it you remember the parties when you’ve seen him as the designated driver. It makes you furrow your brows, right as he says, “I’ve been trying to drink less. Besides, I work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you let out.

He’s about to say something else when Hoseok, beaming with mischief, says, “Should we play Truth or Dare?”

A chorus of yes and nos answers, until Nabi says. “We should just play Spin the Bottle. Truth or Dare is for kids.”

“Hey, Truth or Dare is fun,” Hoseok says, pouting, his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

Nabi winks at him, especially as her suggestion ends up winning, and Yoongi and Hoseok clear the coffee table and move it to the side so that you can all sit in a big circle on the floor.

“Younger should spin first!” Ria suggests, knowing fully well that she is the youngest. 

You all agree, and she reaches for Namjoon’s empty beer bottle that was put on the floor between you all. She grabs it by the body, then looks at everyone, gaze shining with amusement. 

“Who wants to kiss me?” she teases.

You wonder if you’re the only one who notices Seokjin’s cheek turning pink as Nabi bursts, “Me!”

As everyone laughs, and Seokjin catches up with a small chuckle, Ria finally spins the bottle. You watch as it spins once, twice, thrice, slowing down on the fourth spin until it fully comes to a stop, facing Hoseok. 

“Well, I guess it’ll be you, Hoba,” Ria says, shrugging her shoulders, and then she kneels so that she can reach Hoseok across the circle.

He grabs her by the cheeks, and he lands a big peck on her slightly parted lips. Both of them didn’t close their eyes for the kiss, and they start laughing awkwardly as Ria sits back.

Yoongi’s cool smile tells you everything you need to know, and you hold in the knowing smirk that wants to split across your features.

Hoseok spins the bottle, and it turns for longer than it did with Ria. It stops on Seokjin, who lets out a startled sound as Hoseok turns towards him, grabbing his cheeks.

“Come here, Jinnie!” Hoseok exclaims.

Seokjin lets out a disgruntled sound, which quickly turns disgusted as Hoseok kisses him, with a lot more lips than he did with Ria. It earns a lot of laughs, especially as Seokjin repeatedly wipes his mouth, using the sleeve of his shirt as a napkin.

“Why was that so wet?” he complains, but ever so the good player, he still spins the bottle.

It turns and turns, a never-ending dance until friction finally slows it down.

You purse your lips when it lands on you, and you look up to meet Seokjin’s gaze. 

“Well, well, well,” you let out.

“I’d much rather kiss you than him,” Seokjin grumbles as he leans across the space.

“What do you mean, he’s a good kisser,” you tease, and Hoseok beams as Ria and Nabi let out a prolonged “Ew!” at the reference to the fact that you and Hoseok used to sleep together.

Though they don’t know that you’ve stopped, and that Hoseok is dating Yoongi now. Not that you’ll be the one to tell them.

You lean forward, meeting Seokjin in the space over the bottle. Right before your lips press on his plump ones, you turn towards Ria. To your surprise, she isn’t looking at you – her eyes are on Jungkook, and the knowing smile from earlier comes back in full force.

It’s too late for you to look behind you, and your eyes flutter shut as Seokjin’s lips find yours. They are soft, warm, and his kiss is gentle, as if he doesn’t want to scare you away. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook is here, you think you’d indulge, but you immediately pull away, sitting back next to your brother’s best friend.

Next to the man with whom you’ve been pretending you haven’t fucked like animals just a few weeks ago.

Unable to resist, you glance at him. He is frowning, though he quickly hides behind an easy smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a moment you want to scream at him that he’s stupid, that he shouldn’t care, that you need to pretend… but you resist.

Not because you’re surrounded by your friends, no. Because you want him to want you – you want to be the moon he chases at night, and you don’t know what to make of it.

You look away from him, reaching in the middle of the circle to the glass bottle awaiting your spin. Seokjin nods encouragingly, and you spin the bottle…

Only to have it end on Seokjin again.

“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “I want to kiss people too.”

This time, you don’t miss the muscle ticking in Ria’s eyebrows. So you offer her a wink as you lean towards Seokjin, who meets you with a smile on his lips.

You make to pull away again, but Seokjin grabs your cheeks, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body immediately reacts – heart racing in your chest, blood pumping in your ears. Your friends cheer as Seokjin’s tongue teases your bottom lip, and then he lets you go, sitting back in his spot while you stay still for a few seconds, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are on Ria, who’s looking down at her drink.

So he’s trying to make her jealous… You slowly nod your head, before sitting back in your spot. Jungkook shifts next to you, and his knee brushes against the side of your thigh.

You shoot him a look, and he offers you a tight-lipped smile, before settling his attention on Seokjin as he spins the bottle again. This time, it lands on Yoongi, and they exchange a small peck, though Seokjin fake-gags through it all. 

“What’s wrong with kissing the homies?” Hoseok teases him, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Nothing,” Seokjin grumbles. “I love you guys, but I’d rather not kiss my friends.”

“You seemed to like kissing Y/n, though,” Ria says, an innocent look on her face that you know she’s faking.

You snort, hiding it behind a long sip of your drink, as everyone watches Seokjin as he looks at Ria, gaze wide, trying to find something to say but clearly coming up short with ideas. 

Silence stretches, growing awkward, until Seokjin says, “I’d kiss you like that too.”

Both Nabi and Hoseok let out a long “Oh!” though Nabi immediately follows hers with, “Then kiss her.”

Seokjin flushes fully red, and Ria grins, cocking her head to the side. 

“I’m game unless you’re too shy,” she says, voice a little sultry.

Seokjin seems afraid now. He looks around the group, as if searching for salvation, but everyone is just looking on with expectation lighting up their gazes.

“Well…” Seokjin lets out, and he gulps. “Hopefully we’ll spin the bottle on each other.”

“Come on, bro,” Jungkook interjects. “Don’t tell me you need that to kiss her?”

Before Seokjin has time to say anything else, Ria grabs his face from where she’s sitting next to him, and she pulls him into a languid kiss that, despite his shy demeanour, he reciprocates right away. People cheer, and you smile widely, your eyes turning to Jungkook amidst the chaos ensuing. 

He’s already looking at you. His eyes dip down to your lips as if he’s considering kissing you right then and there as well, but he glances away, sucking on his piercings. Though the interaction might have passed as nothing to an outside gaze, you feel your blood boiling in your veins, far more than when Seokjin kissed you earlier.

Because no one other than Jungkook can have that effect on you.

When Ria and Seokjin finally pull away, Yoongi hesitantly reaches for the bottle, making a joke that everyone laughs at except you, as you’re still reeling from the way Jungkook looked at you. The bottle spins, and it stops on Nabi, who beams.

“Finally,” she jokes.

The peck she exchanges with Yoongi is cold, that of two friends more than anything, and then Nabi is spinning the bottle as well.

You don’t miss the way her gaze slides sideways to Namjoon. You also don’t miss the way Namjoon slightly leans into her – what you do miss is the bottle as it stops.

Pointing towards Jungkook.

“Oh,” Nabi lets out, and she turns red.

Jungkook, suddenly the picture-perfect arrogant asshole that you know him to be, says, “Don’t sound too disappointed, I’ve been told I’m a good kisser.”

Nabi chuckles awkwardly, and she meets Namjoon’s gaze. He motions towards Jungkook with his beer, as if to encourage her, and she nods once before leaning towards Jungkook.

They kiss right in front of you, and you feel the blood leaving your face as Jungkook has the nerve to tease her mouth with his tongue. As she has the nerve to let him in, their tongues meeting for a few seconds before Jungkook pulls away. He winks at her, smiling triumphantly, and she sits back, face so red she’d put a tomato to shame.

Jungkook slides his gaze to you, winking at you next, before leaning towards you. And though he has to be aware that everyone is carefully watching you, he says in your ear, “Had to make you jealous too.”

Yep. The arrogant asshole.

You push him, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off,” you grumble, and you meet Ria’s gaze as she looks at you way too excitedly for your own sake.

He laughs it off, sitting back in his spot, and then he grabs the bottle spinning it. Whether he meant it or not, it spins twice before stopping, and you stare down the neck of the bottle as it points towards you.

You think Ria is about to leap up, screaming, ‘I knew it!’ Especially as you just keep on staring at the neck of the bottle, refusing to turn your face towards Jungkook. You see his smirk in the periphery of your vision. See the way he wets his lips, far too ready to kiss you dumb like only he knows how to do.

“What are you waiting for?” Nabi asks from beside you, nudging you with an elbow.

You take a deep breath, chuckling. “Let’s pray Taehyung never learns about this,” you say, referencing everything that your friends don’t know, and then you turn towards Jungkook.

Your comment has made him pensive. He’s lost the smirk, and his eyes scan your face, lingering on your lips for far longer than necessary. It makes you blush, makes you feel vulnerable and naked, and you try to find a spark of defiance in you.

All you find is his gravity, and you lean towards him.

He meets you halfway – with none of the fire he had for your friend. Instead, his soft, pink lips move against yours, slowly, and your eyes flutter shut as you instinctively cup his cheek. It feels like time stretches, endlessly. Your mouths dance together, like suddenly eternity found you in its hold. 

When Jungkook’s tongue teases your bottom lip, you let him in, circling it with your own tongue. You hear the cheers now – they’re distant, like they are on the other side of a veil, in an entirely different universe. You ignore them, focusing on the man next to you, kissing you.

You feel Jungkook’s hand as it finds your thigh. He holds you, thumb digging slightly into your skin, and memories of your bodies entwined flash behind your eyelids. So much so that you sigh in the kiss, rhythm suddenly accelerating. It grows frantic, though still just as languid. For a moment, you’d wish for your friends to disappear, to leave you alone with Jungkook but…

“Damn, get a room!” Ria yells, then bursts out laughing with the rest of the friend group. 

You startle, pulling away from Jungkook. Your gazes meet, both wide as if scared, as if you just crossed a line. Though you reckon you’ve crossed the line a while ago already.

You can’t focus on the game after that. You spin and kiss Ria, who then kisses Yoongi. You lose track after that, and thankfully the bottle doesn’t point towards you or Jungkook again. All you can do as your friends exchange kisses and saliva is try to tame your wild heart, but it’s started a race you are bound to lose – a race to the man by your side.

You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. If he, too, feels deeply affected by that kiss. If it rendered his mind a blank canvas like yours, erasing thoughts and memories, leaving just him, him, him.

You’re going insane. You’re going insane for someone you can’t have, for someone who you told to never kiss you again, not even twenty-four hours ago. But his lips and his tongue are drugs you’re starting to like too much – they are an addiction waiting to ensnare you in its web.

You only come back to your senses when, bored, your friends decide to stop the game in favour of watching some dumb movie and making a drinking game out of it. You participate in the drinking game, hoping that it will numb the beating of your heart, but it does little to no good.

Perhaps because Jungkook sits next to you, and you’re all too aware of every spot where your bodies touch. And you wonder – in a universe where he isn’t your brother’s best friend, would you be leaning in his side? Would you let yourself be ensnared, even though his reputation follows him like smoke follows the fire?

You think about what Colton said. You think about Shelly, and about all the other girls Jungkook has had under him. It finally douses the beating of your heart, fire returning to a slumbering ocean, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time since the bottle landed on you and he kissed you.

The second movie the group decided to watch after that drinking game is almost over. Ria fell asleep with her head on Seokjin’s shoulder, who sits with a straight-back, his cheeks turning pink when you notice their position. Hoseok and Yoongi sit next to each other on the couch – pinkies subtly linked, which brings a soft smile to your lips. Jungkook is next to you, though his deep breathing and soft snores tell you enough about what state he currently is in.

You don’t know how you missed it. But Namjoon and Nabi aren’t in the living room anymore. You wonder where they went off to, and the answer comes by itself as they walk back in, clothes wrinkled and hair undone, both of them sporting small, satisfied smiles.

You can’t resist. You pull your phone out, heading to the group chat you have with Ria and Nabi.

[2:43 am] You: I hope you guys didn’t fuck in my bed

You snort to yourself before turning off your phone, and the movie comes to an end a few minutes later, rousing those that had fallen asleep. Jungkook offers you a sleepy smile, and your heart skips a beat. So you look away, think about Colton and Shelly, and the emotion passes.

“I guess we should be going,” Hoseok says as everyone stretches.

Everyone agrees with that statement, and you walk your friends to the door. You make round eyes at Nabi, motioning towards Namjoon, and the shade of red she turns to is enough to let you know that she and Namjoon really did it. You stifle your laugh as you hug her, and then Ria comes to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“I’m so tired,” she whines. “Can I sleep over?”

You don’t know why. But your eyes go to Jungkook, who’s watching the interaction unfold from where he’s leaning against the wall. Your throat goes dry, and you look away from him, telling your friend, “Nabi will get you home.”

Nabi nods, “Come, baby. Your bed awaits you.”

Ria grumbles, but she follows Nabi, and slowly everyone filters out of your apartment.

Everyone but you and the guy you’re starting to think you should maybe avoid.

“So,” Jungkook lets out, and he laughs lightly. “Tonight was fun. I didn’t know your friends were so chill.”

You lean against the door. The cold from outside lingers, but the way Jungkook is looking at you is warm, hot.

“They are,” you reply.

“I should hang with you guys more often.”

You gulp as he tilts his head to the side, toying with his piercings. “What would Taehyung say?” you ask.

“Who cares what Taehyung says? I’m allowed to have other friends.”

“Right.”

Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his cheek and then he sighs. “Are you upset about the kiss?”

You shake your head no, shrugging your shoulders. “It was just for the game.” 

Though, was it really just for the game?

“Right,” he echoes. He changes tactics, chuckling lightly. “Your friend Ria wants me. She told me while we were in the kitchen.”

“I think you lost your spot to Jin,” you quickly reply, and he doesn’t miss the undertone of jealousy in your voice.

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Nabi.”

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Jin.”

He wets his lips. “Oh, peach. I loved watching you kiss him, looking all guilty after.” Another chuckle. “You think you can fool me?”

“You’re an asshole.” You don’t mean the insult. Or maybe you do. Maybe some part of you thinks about Taehyung, about what Colton has said. Because you want him to be an asshole – a red flag, so easily avoidable. You want him to be easily pushed away, like the emotions you thought you pushed away earlier.

Though maybe you’ve just been fooling yourself.

You don’t want Jungkook taking a step towards you, stopping where he’s now standing a couple of steps in front of you. You don’t want the conflict unfolding in his big, doe eyes. You don’t want any of it. You just want peace, you want to protect a heart that’s barely healed from Sam Hwang’s passage in your life. 

You want peace so much that you walk closer to him as well, stopping close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him.

“I’m an asshole?” Jungkook repeats, making it sound like a question.

You nod. “Yeah. Because we shouldn’t kiss again. Because you said that it meant nothing, that we have to pretend nothing happened.”

He’s so still in front of you you’d imagine he was turned to stone.

But yes, here’s why your heart has been going crazy. You’re trying to blame it on Colton, on Taehyung and on everybody else. But the fault has always been Jungkook’s. The fault was the way he made you feel, and how just a day later he decided that it wasn’t enough, that it wasn’t what he wanted. Though maybe that was you, and your constant fear of Taehyung learning about you and Jungkook despite the ocean between you.

“But it meant nothing, right?” Jungkook challenges, dark eyes searching for the truth in yours. “Is that why I haven’t been able to fuck anyone else since then?”

Your mind empties out.

“Jungkook…”

“Is that why I kind of want to just say fuck it and tell your brother?” His hand reaches between you, and he runs a hesitant finger on your jawline. “Is that why we’re oh so pretending that nothing happened when you’re the only thing I look at when we’re in the same room?”

“You wanted this,” you remind him.

“You wanted Taehyung to never know, peach,” he counters. “I’ve been wanting you since the first time I saw you.”

You don’t know what to make of this revelation. You don’t even know if you believe him, or if Jungkook is just too good at spinning words into beautiful lies countless hearts have wanted to believe in, only to end up broken. 

You do want to believe him. You do want to believe that every time he’s called you peach, he meant something more. That that first kiss in the kitchen, during a power outage that’s brought you far too close for comfort, meant something to him the way that it meant something to you as well.

“Then why the fuck do I still see you flirting left and right?” you ask.

His jaw clenches. “This is about what Colton said, isn’t it?”

It is, and it isn’t. “Jungkook, I saw you at that bar. I saw you tonight with Ria. It is what you are.”

“What I am?” he repeats, chuckling bitterly. “Is your opinion really so low of me, peach?” He leans towards you, and you tilt your head to the side, letting him run his soft lips up the side of your neck. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. “I’ve heard you fucking girls in this apartment.”

“And I’ve heard you touching yourself at the same time,” Jungkook whispers right in the shell of your ear. “I’ve heard you and that Hobi dude too.”

His hand finds your waist, and he holds you in place as you say, “I think we never should have fucked.”

He leans his forehead against yours. “Why?”

You offer him the truth, in all its vulnerability. 

“Because there is no going back now.”

He laughs, yet it sounds void of joy. “And is that a bad thing?”

“You will just hurt me.”

“Not planning on it.”

You wonder if his heart is beating just as loudly as yours, or if this is just an act to him. It’s hard to tell, and your soul vibrates on a frequency you can’t ignore anymore. It takes everything in you and builds you anew, destroys all the restraints you’ve been trying to have in order to protect yourself.

The spider caught you in its web, and you have no escaping now.

“You can’t say that,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he finds the other side of your waist, and he pulls you closer.

“Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?”

Because you’ve never given me a reason to believe otherwise, you want to reply, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Not when his thumbs are tracing idle shapes on your waist, speaking in a language you think your body already knows.

“Because it’s the only way that I don’t end up getting hurt,” you whisper in a voice smaller than the atoms holding you together. “When you believe the worst of people, they never disappoint you.”

Jungkook moves one of his hands to your back, and then it glides up until he’s lost it in the hair at the back of your head. “But if you don’t risk anything, you don’t get anything,” he says.

He’s right, and you almost purr as he gently massages your scalp. “I risked once, and it wasn’t worth it.”

“That asshole didn’t know how to handle you, peach,” Jungkook affirms, softly. “And trust me when I say this – he will regret it later.”

Sam Hwang comes to the forefront of your mind. You remember the summer, remember the easy smiles and the dancing and the driving with the windows down. You remember it all, and then you remember the date yesterday, and the way the dream he’d once been had curdled like milk left outside of the refrigerator for too long. 

Sam was poison shaped like the prettiest flower. His lies were your undoing – has Jungkook ever lied to you?

You don’t think he has. He’s always been crudely honest, playful in his arrogance. But he’s never once lied to you, or at least you want to believe so.

“And do you know?” you ask, murmuring the words so close to his lips you feel them move when his mouth slightly falls open.

Time stops, the whole entire world holding its breath. Your arms are around his neck now – you don’t remember moving at all – and you tighten your hold, just a little bit. As if you think he’ll walk away now, flick your nose and tell you that this is all just a joke.

That he’s played your heart better than anyone before, and that you can laugh about it now.

“Let me show you,” he answers instead, and you think you hear thunder in the distance.

Or maybe that’s your heart, as Jungkook ravishes your lips in a languid kiss that makes you melt into his touch. His large hand finds the small of your back, pushing you into his strong body. You mold yourself to him, arch your back as his feathery soft lips move against yours, his piercings pushing into your lower lips.

He tastes like addiction, like you’ll never be able to kiss someone else. And right now, you don’t think you’ll ever want to. Because you’ve never been kissed the way that Jungkook kisses you. Like he’s branding himself on you, burning his name in your heart so that his flames will keep you warm, always.

He turns you around, pushing you into the wall. A second later he makes you jump so that he can wrap your legs against his waist, and though his lips have momentarily disconnected from yours, he’s quick to kiss you again, to push his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it, and he retaliates by grinding into you.

He’s already hard. He’s already fucking hard and you’ll go insane.

“Jungkook,” you breathe the second he pulls away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He stops at the neckline of your shirt, lips ghosting as he moves back up.

“Do you know how mad you made me when you said you wanted to keep things between us?” he whispers, and he teases your earlobe with his teeth. “When you said that Taehyung doesn’t need to know everything?”

Your head is too clouded with thoughts of him, of what you know is about to happen, so you barely remember. You thought he was the one who wanted to pretend like nothing happened, but then again, he did say that that was you.

You’re confused, and you don’t have time to revisit the past before he sucks on the skin of your neck, hard enough to leave a hickey behind. You run your hands through his hair, and pull at the longer strands on top until his mouth finds yours again.

“I’ll tell him,” Jungkook adds when he pulls away from the kiss. “I don’t care what he says, I’ve been wanting you so bad.”

“Kook…” you trail off, and he grinds into you, before pulling away from the wall to carry you towards his room.

“I’m serious,” he says in your ear, and he does sound more serious than he’s ever been with you. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You nuzzle your face in his neck, peck the mole you find there. “Can we just figure shit out between us before we tell him?”

You think you feel Jungkook stiffen, but it might just be because one of his hands let go of you so that he can open the door to his room.

“Sure,” Jungkook whispers. “Just let me know when I should speak to him and I will.”

You appreciate it, but you reckon you should be the one to break the news to your brother. You have a lot more chance to be able to handle the tantrum he’ll likely throw, but you don’t want to think about that right now.

You just want to think about Jungkook, about the way he’s gently putting you down on the edge of his bed, amidst the mess of blankets.

And then he’s taking off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and your mind eddies out.

He’s beautiful. You’ve known this, you’ve seen him before, but there’s something about him that’s different right now. Maybe it’s the neon light coming from the street outside. Or maybe it’s just because the fear that’s been plaguing you finally disappeared, and the relief of knowing he wants you too overpowers everything, painting him with all the beauty he beholds.

And he beholds far too much for your frail heart to endure. Yet you still gaze at him, admire all the strong planes of his body as he fishes his cell phone from the pocket of his pants to turn on the LED lights in his room. They shine red, and he winks at you before strutting to the window so that he can pull the curtains shut.

“Red lights?” you tease.

“It’s to set the ambiance,” he says confidently as he walks back towards you.

“You’re an idiot.” It’s said affectionately, with a twinkle in your eyes that you know he doesn’t miss. Because he grins, that bunny grin that does funny things to your insides, and then he stops in front of you.

He drops on his knees, his hands spreading your legs. You widen your gaze, but he’s already bending down, pressing a kiss to your clothed pussy.

“You’ll come on my tongue, mmh?”

Cheeks burning, all you can do is nod your head.

“Good girl.”

Jungkook makes quick work of getting you out of your pants, but he leaves your underwear on. He watches the wet spot where you’ve already soaked through, smirk curving the corner of his lips.

“Gosh, look at you,” he says. “You’re already so ready.”

He pushes your thong to the side so that he can see your glistening pussy. You know you’re wet – you feel your juices dripping out of you, and it only increases when Jungkook leans in, turning his head at the last second to kiss the inside of your thigh instead.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Huh?” is all you’re able to let out.

He laughs, and he grins up at you. “You’re adorable.” He kisses your thigh again, and then his lips ghost on your clit. You try to move your thighs, but he’s firmly holding you against the bed, refraining any motion from you. “What do you want?” he repeats.

This time, you were ready for the question. “Your mouth,” you breathe out.

He hums, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “Where?”

“Eat me out,” you say.

“That’s what you want?”

You nod.

“Then that’s what you’ll get.”

And then his lips close around your clit and he sucks hard, tongue flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You immediately grip at his hair, moaning softly, your eyes shutting as he moves from your clit to your entrance. His tongue pushes in, laps your juices, and all you can do is pull at his hair, as if that will keep you grounded.

As if you’re not already floating towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse.

“You like that?” he queries against your pussy, the movement of his lips making you shiver.

“Yes.”

He sucks on your clit again, eyes shutting in concentration as he switches to drawing circles around it, sending bolts of lightning up your spine. You moan, and you feel him smirk against you as he keeps going. As one of his hands hesitantly leaves your thigh to slide between your legs. 

He teases your entrance with a finger, circling it in time with his ministrations on your clit. The breathy sound you let out is interrupted by a louder moan as his finger slips inside, immediately curving to find the right spot inside of you.

Jungkook shifts, pushing your leg on his shoulder so that he can reach around your frame, his hand resting on your belly. He pushes just enough for you to know that he wants you to lie down, and then he holds you there, the new angle making you see stars.

“How can you-“ It breaks into a moan. “Be so good?” you conclude.

Jungkook laughs, pulling away to meet your gaze. “I’ve seen how you touch yourself,” he reminds you. “I’m just trying to reproduce what you did.”

Which makes no sense because he barely saw anything, but you’re too blissed out to question him. You just take the pleasure in, feeling it rise like the crescendo of a song. 

You’ll come. It only grows more evident when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, and he fucks you like that, relentlessly. His tongue on your clit draws expert figures, and he mixes it with just enough sucking for you to not fall into oversensitive land. No, he keeps you at the edge, pushing you towards your orgasm so quickly you think you’ll explode.

And you do. The second you climax you let out a broken moan, your thighs closing around his face. That doesn’t deter him, and he milks your orgasm out of you, letting you crash into walls and walls of it, until you feel like you’re not even in your body anymore.

Only then does Jungkook sit back on his heels, your juice dripping from his chin. He doesn’t dry it yet – instead he climbs on top of you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips that tastes of you. And the kiss is savage, wild, with his tongue in your mouth and your hands pulling at his hair.

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses on your neck as your hands move to his back, where you leave scratches behind.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Do that when I’m fucking you and you’ll make me come in no time.”

“Then take off your clothes,” you say through the haze. “I want you to fuck me.”

He obeys, standing up to take off his pants and boxers. His dick springs free, proud and tall, precum on the tip that looks far too inviting. So you sit up, hand grabbing the base of his cock, and Jungkook stills as you take him in your mouth, looking up at him.

His precum tastes salty on your tongue, and you lick him all clean before pulling away, jerking him off slowly. 

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I couldn’t help myself.”

He grabs your cheeks, bending down so that he can steal another languid kiss on your lips.

“Don’t apologize, peach,” he says as he straightens. “I’ve wanted to know what your mouth feels like on my dick for a really long time.”

So you dive in, wrapping your lips around his dick to suck on his tip. He bucks his hips, pushing deeper, and you hold the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat, immediately pulling out.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” you ask, and the line of drool that connected his dick to your mouth breaks.

“I didn’t mean to fuck your mouth,” he explains.

“What if I want you to?”

He just looks down at you with so much lust in his eyes that you think you’ll drown in it. To your dismay, he says, “Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll come before I can fuck your tight pussy if I fuck your mouth right now.”

Yet he doesn’t move right away, so you keep jerking him off, licking at his slit. “Do you always come so easily when you fuck girls?”

He doesn’t like what you say. Indeed, he pulls on your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back as he bends down. 

“Open your mouth,” he orders.

You obey, far too pliable, and Jungkook spits in your mouth.

It takes you aback, but he doesn’t let you think about it before he pushes your head closer to his dick. 

“Now you can suck my dick.”

You glance up at him as he lets go of your hair, gently brushing it as if to make sure he didn’t hurt you.

“Damn, Jungkook,” you let out.

He freezes, his lustful gaze turning apologetic. “Oh… wait, I’m sorry if-“

“No,” you interrupt. “That was hot.”

“Are you sure?”

Without breaking eye contact, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick, mixing his drool with yours that was already there. “Yes.”

And then you unleash yourself, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. You hollow your cheeks, swallow around him, and then pull away so that you can lick from between his balls up to the tip of his cock. You apply pressure to his frenulum, teasing it for a little longer, and then you circle the head of his dick again, sucking on it.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses.

And he keeps on cursing as you keep going, the taste of his precum far too inebriating. You want more of it, you want all of it, and you give it to him, show him just how much you’ve wanted him too. Just how much you’ve always found him hot, how much you’ve always dreamed of choking on his dick when he bucks his hips again, and this time the gag reflex makes you choke.

You pull away with drool on your chin, teary-eyed as you look up at him.

“Listen,” he says. “If you keep going, I’ll come. I’m down if you are, but I really, really want to fuck you.”

“Put a condom on your fucking dick, JK,” you tell him. “I want you.”

You don’t have to say it twice. Jungkook walks to his nightstand, fishing a condom out of the drawer. He’s quick to rip the tinfoil package, pulling the condom out so that he can wrap it on his cock. You watch from where you’ve lied back down on the bed, fingers mindlessly drawing circles on your clit after you’ve taken your panties off.

“You’re so fucking desperate for me, peach,” Jungkook purrs. “You really are just a dirty slut for me.”

And then he’s climbing on the bed, pulling you up. He rids you of your shirt, and he curses under his breath at the sight of your lace bralette. 

“You’re keeping this on,” he says, and you nod as he pushes you back down on the bed so that he can climb on top of you. “Stop me if it’s too much, okay?”

You blink once, not sure you heard right, and Jungkook bends to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You weren’t expecting it, and your heart melts in your chest, even as his tip nudges your entrance.

“You sure you want me?” he asks. “We can stop-“

“Jungkook, fuck me before I go insane.”

He smirks, and he pushes in unforgivingly, slamming his dick in to the hilt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth falls open, though no sound escapes your lips. Jungkook grunts, and his dick twitches inside of you, bringing back stars to your vision.

“How can you be so fucking tight?” he asks. “Am I not turning you on?”

“Oh, you are.” You shudder in delight at the feel of him inside of you.

He pulls almost all the way back, and then snaps his hips forward again. “You better not be fucking anyone else,” he says. “Your pussy is mine.”

A part of you wants to say your pussy is no one’s but yours, but Jungkook immediately starts pounding into you, so hard his headboard hits the wall repeatedly. Once, you would have been on the other side of the wall, thinking about him fucking some girl, but now he’s fucking you.

Now he’s fucking you, his large dick dragging on your walls so perfectly you understand his reputation. He’s good, far too good, and you know he’ll easily be able to get you to come again. Especially as he bends forward to hit a better angle, and your hands find his thighs so that you can mark him there.

“Peach,” he moans, and you’re surprised to hear the nickname in the heat of the action, yet it makes so much sense.

It makes so much sense for you and Jeon Jungkook, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You feel so good,” you cry out, and Jungkook slows down so that he can lower himself on top of you, his forearms framing your face.

He pecks your lips. “It’s because you take me so well.”

You moan as he increases his pace once more, jackhammering into you. It hurts a little, but there’s something so sinful about the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix that all you can do is beg for more, even though he’s already pounding into you.

He doesn’t disappoint, clearly understanding what you want. Indeed, Jungkook pulls out, flips you over, settling himself between your legs so that he can hit it from the back. He raises your hips, just enough so that he can align himself with your entrance, and then he’s fucking you again, the new angle so good your orgasm approaches you at light speed.

“I’ll come,” you warn him in a high-pitched sound.

“Yeah?” he grunts, and all you do is moan his name in reply, right as he reaches in front of you, fingers skillfully aiming for your clit.

The second he’s pressing circles on your clit you climax, vision turning fully white as he slows down inside of you, giving you a respite so that he can milk your orgasm out of you.

“That’s it, peach,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “You’re such a good fucking girl for me.”

The words barely register, yet they make your head swim with ecstasy, swim with desire for the man behind you, on top of you. And once he’s sure to have milked your orgasm, Jungkook resumes his unforgiving speed, and his headboard bangs in the wall so loud you wonder if it’ll break.

Jungkook breaks first, bending down as his high hits, and he grunts and moans, his dick twitching inside of you. You wrap one hand around his forearm closest to your face, your walls fluttering around his dick as he shakes, spurting his cum into the condom.

He comes for a long time, but eventually his high recedes, and all that’s left to be heard in the room is your heavy breathing mingling with his. He’s wet on top of you, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, yet you don’t want him to move. 

You feel safe here, under him. Like his large frame will keep all atrocities of the world away from you.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and presses a kiss on your cheek. A tired smile grows on your lips, and it only gets bigger when he does it again, his lips lingering on your skin.

“That felt good?” he asks against you.

“Mmh,” you let out. 

“Good.” He pauses, pressing another kiss on your cheek before straightening, returning to his previous kneeling position. He massages your ass, and you almost purr from how good it feels. His softening dick falls out of you, and you look at him over your shoulder.

He’s dishevelled, sinfully so. The top of his chest is red, and wet strands of hair cling to his forehead. Yet he’s more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him, and it makes your heart flutter in your ribcage.

“You look good,” you tell him, even though you didn’t mean to say the words aloud.

He takes it in stride, a grin growing on his lips. “Thanks peach.” And then his gaze falls to your ass, and he playfully slaps it. “So do you.”

You snort, rolling on your back as he moves off from on top of you. He discards the condom, tying a knot in it before throwing it in the trash can, and you watch as he carefully cleans himself with some tissues. You should probably do the same thing, but all you can do is watch, feeling content in the swimming bliss, in the red light and Jungkook’s company.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks.

You hum, nodding lazily. “I should.”

“I’ll come with you,” he offers, hand extended towards you.

You can’t say no, so you take a shower with him, revelling in the feel of his large hands as he washes your back. You offer him the same treatment, and he teases you about it, yet it’s lacking its usual bite. His tone only holds endearment now, and maybe that’s why you don’t get angry.

Maybe that’s why you both are a giggling and blushing mess when you step out of the shower, and he wraps you in a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dries his hair first, and then wraps the towel around his waist, uncaring that he’s dripping water all over the floor. It’s usually something that drives you crazy, but right now you really can’t bring yourself to care.

Instead, you brush your teeth beside him, shrieking when he pokes your ribs.

“Jungkook!”

He laughs. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t look apologetic at all, and so you narrow your gaze at him, before spitting the toothpaste in the sink, letting the water carry it away.

“I’ll get my revenge someday,” you warn him.

“I’m terrified,” he teases, and you roll your eyes as you put the toothbrush away, leaving him alone in the bathroom. He’s quick to follow behind you as you aim for your room.

You’re not surprised when he follows you in, looking far too at ease in your space.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Aren’t we sleeping together?”

You widen your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “You want to share a bed?”

He frowns, lips jutting out in a small pout. “Yeah?”

“You’re simping.”

His mouth falls open, and then he laughs, though it’s short-lived. His eyes darken, and he steps closer to you, one large hand wrapping around your throat. You gulp, and he tightens his grip, bending down so that he can steal a languid kiss on your lips. He tastes of mint, and you let out a breathy sound as he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue in your mouth.

“Then I’ll let you sleep alone, peach,” he says when he pulls away, his hand falling to his side.

He’s already in the hallway when you call behind him, “Wait!”

Jungkook stops, but he doesn’t turn to look at you. So you walk over to him, pulling on his arm.

“Stay?”

He slides his gaze to you, a smirk adorning his lips. “Look who’s simping now?”

You clench your jaw, yet all he does is flick your nose as he moves back into your room, plopping down on your bed.

“My mattress is more comfortable,” he comments.

You glare at him, though your expression softens when his eyes shift from the ceiling to you. 

“Then do you want to sleep in your bed?”

“With you?” he asks. As you nod yes, he adds, “Absolutely.”

And that is how you find yourself in Jungkook’s bed, his inked arm wrapped around you as he holds you close to his chest. He turned off the LED lights, and his breathing is steady and deep behind you.

Your thoughts slide to Taehyung. To how he’d react if he saw you and Jungkook right now, all cuddled up in his best friend’s bed. You wonder, would he kill Jungkook or you first?

You reckon that that will be a bridge you’ll cross when you get to it. You don’t want to ruin what you might now have with Jungkook, not when getting to where you are tonight was such a hassle already. 

A hassle, yes, but worth every step of the way. If only for Jungkook to tighten his arm around you, pressing a kiss on the back of your head.

“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you let out as he doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds.

“Now I’ll allow you to call me crazy,” he adds, and you laugh, turning in his hold so that you can face him. His features are barely visible in the dim light filtering from behind the curtains, yet you’re pretty sure his eyes are soft as they meet yours. “But I want to go to New York with you.”

Your brows furrow. “To New York?” you press.

“My brother has an engagement party next weekend, and I’ve been dreading going.”

Now you’d say your heart just dropped to your ass because, is he really asking you to meet his family?

“You want me to go with you to your brother’s engagement party?” you let out.

He chuckles. “Yes.”

“But we’re not…” you trail off.

You’re not delusional enough to believe you’re suddenly dating Jeon Jungkook. Just because you both admitted your attraction to the other doesn’t mean that you have to dive head first into a relationship… right?

“No, we’re not,” he says as if sensing your unease. “My family sucks and I just… I’ve been dreading going, but I thought that it could be fun with you.��

You feel bad for him, for that vulnerable mention of his family, but you don’t want to push, so you say, “And what will you tell your family that I am?”

“Would you mind pretending to be my girlfriend?” he suggests. “Just for the weekend, so that you don’t get any wrong ideas.”

You roll your eyes, and he laughs, having probably seen the gesture. “What do I get in return?” you ask.

“My undying love and gratitude?” he teases, his bunny grin on display.

“Are you saying you love me, Jeon Jungkook?”

The silence is a little too long for comfort, and your heart races in your chest, awaiting his answer. Yet he only shrugs his shoulders, before saying, “You wish. So, is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s from next Friday to Sunday?” you enquire. 

He nods, and you truly take the time to ponder. Because you don’t know if it’s a good idea. If it means just getting attached more when one day this is all bound to go up in flames. 

Or maybe it won’t. Maybe Taehyung won’t be the overbearing asshole that you’ve known him to be your whole life, and maybe he’ll let you do whatever it is that you have to do with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe he’ll let you live what you have to live with Jungkook…

But then you think about Colton, you think about Lisa, about Shelly, Jungkook’s reputation once more haunting you. You’re not delusional enough to think you’ll be the one to change him.

Yet a weekend away, just the two of you… It sounds like heaven, though you’re aware it might just be hell disguised as a beautiful memory that will taunt you somewhere along the line.

College is meant to experience things though, right?

So you find yourself asking, “At what time do we leave?”

Prev | Chapter 7.5 | Next

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gosh where are these two headed :') next chapter is v special to me and i'm really excited for you guys to read! But first, let me know what you thought of this chapter? did we like it?<3

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[hongism]

what lies beneath us. - c. san (m)

➼ genre; fluff, smut, slight angst for the first half but i make it better quickly promise ➼ pairing; san x afab!reader ➼ au; established relationship, college au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 6.4k

one busy semester is all it took for you and san to find yourselves struggling to find footing in the storm that is your relationship, yet rather than let go, he asked for one more week, one more day, one last chance to help get you back to shore

part of the ...and it's snowing collab.

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➼ smut warnings; unprotected sex, oral: m, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, service-top san, san has some slightly submissive tendencies, coming inside

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You normally wouldn’t find yourself in Wooyoung’s apartment on a Tuesday morning, sitting at the bar counter beside his roommate with two mugs of coffee sitting on the granite between you, but you also haven’t had any leisure time to waste lately. It’s a miracle that Wooyoung is even up before ten o’clock, though that might be in part due to you pleading desperately over the phone to come over.

“Oh, you make her coffee but not me? The fuck is up with that, Hwa?” Speak of the devil, Wooyoung comes into the kitchen still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“She’s a guest, you live here. And I had to wake you up because you slept through three alarms so my sympathy levels are close to zero right now.” Seonghwa flashes a faux shrug despite the heated glare he’s sent. Wooyoung lets out a huff but lets it go in favor of redirecting his attention to you.

“Right, well, what did you need to talk about so badly that it couldn’t wait until the afternoon?”

“San is coming over tonight, I couldn't do the afternoon,” you mumble.

“Is it about him then? Did something—” he waves a hand through the air like that’ll explain his thoughts, and when confusion shows on both your face and Seonghwa’s, he gives up “—did something happen between you guys?”

“It feels a bit awkward,” you admit over the rim of your coffee mug. Wooyoung scoffs at that, but Seonghwa is far more forgiving than your best friend in that he sends you a sympathetic grin. 

“Awkward?” he prompts, toying with his own drink. Wooyoung pushes away from the counter and turns to the coffee maker.

“I don't know. Yeah, awkward, a bit. I guess. Like we don't know what we're doing or how to be in a relationship anymore.”

The brutal semester you both just suffered has been the main factor in the wedge in your relationship. Weekends full of studying, ones that you spent together at the start of the semester when he would come to your place or vice versa so that you could be together even while working. Then, San started picking up more shifts at his part-time job, and you had to redirect your focus to a particularly important internship that required you to forgo those weekends in the blink of an eye. You did have two weekends free of school and work, but San had to rush home during one of those on account of his mother falling ill. The other one was shot by you falling ill with the worst cold you’ve known in all your years of living. San came by that Friday with your favorite chicken and beer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk getting him sick when you knew how important the semester was to him too. It didn’t keep him from coming by again Saturday and Sunday both, soup was delivered to your front door along with voice messages wishing you well throughout the night. Even your text conversations were fizzling into oblivion by the time finals rolled around, which only served to amplify your feelings of dread. 

“Has he been acting differently?” Wooyoung tunes back into the conversation, this time more serious with his tone. “Like, he's pulling away or something?” Wooyoung stands on a different footing in this conversation and knows things Seonghwa doesn't in terms of your relationship with San. He's been there for you since well before you started dating San, and you're certain that he'll be there for you if it were to end tomorrow, the next day, or years down the line. 

“It's gonna sound so childish and stupid but he hasn't been calling me nicknames since the semester ended.” You tuck your hands into your lap and shrink into yourself a little, feeling the hot burn of shame well up inside.

“That's not stupid at all, y/n,” Seonghwa reassures barely a second after you finish your train of thought. “That's not.”

“He's right. That's totally unlike San.”

“Not! Helping!”

“I'm just being honest?!”

“Look, y/n, I don't want you to start having doom thoughts or thinking the worst — that doesn't mean his feelings for you have changed.” You’re starting to think that you should’ve asked Seonghwa for advice from the start instead of Wooyoung. “Maybe he's feeling that awkwardness you are too, or maybe he's feeling insecure. The only way to know is to ask. Have an open and honest conversation about it.”

“But…” You glance past Seonghwa to look at Wooyoung's back. Without even needing to look back, he seems to feel the weight of your stare.

“You're scared that if you bring it up, the worst will happen and y'all will break up.”

“We've been dating for so long that I don't know what I would do if that happened. I don't know how to be single, no offense to either of you, but it's just that we've been together for so long now. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it ended.”

“If…” Wooyoung bites his words back as though he's unsure of how they will come out. “I don't want this to sound harsh, but if all it takes for him to lose his feelings for you is one busy semester, then that's not someone I would want you to have a future with. I know it's not up to me and it's not my business, but I want you to value yourself more than you value your relationship with San.”

“I truly don't think he's lost his feelings for you, y/n,” Seonghwa cuts in again, hand darting out across the counter in your direction. “Woo is right; you should value yourself more than the relationship you're in, but that doesn't mean you can only have one of those things. They can coexist.”

“What if I’m fighting for something he doesn’t want any longer?” you inquire softly and under your breath.

“The spark isn’t gone, y/n, I’m certain of that much. Maybe you just… need to find a way to reignite it!” The coffee maker dings loudly behind Wooyoung. And like it’s turning on a lightbulb in Wooyoung’s head, his expression turns suddenly bright. “Why not do just that? It’s been half a decade, to be fair, so really you can’t be blamed if things feel a little stale. If you went and did things that made you fall for each other in the first place, wouldn’t that help a bit?”

“I hate to say it…”

“You always say that when I’m right!”

“Ignoring him, that does sound like a good plan, y/n.”

Despite the reassurance from both your best friend and someone you consider to be far more mature and wiser, it doesn’t fully quell the concerns settling in your gut.

It’s only been six days since you last saw San, though you would argue that it feels a lot more like six months given how absent you both have been from each other’s lives of late. While that isn’t particularly your fault or his wholly — it’s definitely a joint effort that’s kept you apart — it does make your skin itch with anxiety every time you think about seeing him again.

It’s all culminated into this moment right now, where you sit on the edge of your couch waiting for the doorbell to ring and announce his arrival. You want to see him, desperately so, you’ve missed him so incredibly much that you can hardly stand it. And yet — you’re rooted to the cushions riddled by anxieties. You tried to rid yourself of the lingering stress after leaving Wooyoung’s apartment by doing chores properly for the first time in months, going so far as to run to the grocery and restock some necessities as well. You hate to be the type of partner who cannot do anything alone without associating it with your partner, but San was on your mind throughout the day.

Will he feel the same as you even though the flame keeping your relationship alive has been inching closer and closer to nothingness? The two of you don’t fight, in fact, your friends like to say that things go a little too smoothly between you two, and while that’s true, they aren’t aware of what it looks like when you and San aren’t getting along. It looks the way this semester has, slow conversations that lead nowhere and less time spent in each other’s presence. You aren’t fighting right now, but you certainly aren’t all sunshine and rainbows. The weather mirrors your emotions — dim greys shrouded by white flurries of snow that have been falling since early afternoon.

You clench your fingers around the seam of the couch cushion. No part of you wants to play the part of the overbearing partner: if you’re too eager to see him, wouldn’t he find it off-putting? 

The doorbell rings.

It takes a moment for you to brace yourself for impact, standing and walking over to the door as slowly as you can manage without it seeming like a deliberate delay. The second you open the door, however, your worries melt away for a moment. 

San smiles so brightly like you’ve not gone a second without reveling in each other’s presence. The weather is clinging to his coat still even though he had to climb three flights of stairs to reach your door. The little snowflakes are beginning to melt into the fabric.

“May I come in?” The facade cracks a bit. It’s not like him to ask such things, but you choose not to hold it against him now.

“Yeah, yeah, I finally had time to clean the other day so everything’s — nice.” 

If your smile is strained, he says nothing about it, stepping over the threshold and into your apartment like it’s the first time he’s ever done so. He’s polite all the time, but now it makes those seeds of doubt sprout further because you’ve been together for five years now, what reason does he have to act like a stranger in your home? A home he’s been in time and time again, one he’s slept in, fucked you— 

“Do you want ramen or pizza?” You force the thoughts to come to a halt before your expression turns bitter.

“Let’s do ramen, I’ll cut up the vegetables for you.”

There’s an elephant in the room that it seems neither of you wants to address, and so you keep your mouth shut just the same as San with the thought of “maybe this awkwardness will pass after tonight”. You watch him remove his coat and hang it up on the door while still picking at your nails. He extends a hand to you, one you take eagerly, and you lace your fingers through the gaps between his. A bit like a well-oiled machine, you think, something that Wooyoung had noted about the two of you as far back as freshman year of college. San presses his lips to the top of your head. You lean into the touch ever so slightly. 

You share in a quiet synergy that carries you through the motions of preparing food, with no conversation exchanged aside from a “watch for the knife” and “careful, behind you” on occasion. You’re still trying to psyche yourself up to bring up what’s truly on your mind, so you aren’t sure that you’d be able to get any conversation out without it spiraling into insanity right off the bat. For the moment, for now, you want to simply drink in San’s presence. 

He hums as he opens a cabinet in search of bowls, but they aren’t there. 

“Oh, I—I moved the bowls to the other side.” Three months ago, your mind adds. It would do nothing but add salt to a blossoming wound. San stops dead in his tracks too. He seems to suffer the same crisis that you do right then. After a few seconds of mental buffering, he resumes his humming and shifts to the adjacent cabinet like the moment didn’t happen at all. 

You sit beside each other at the bar counter, atop the uncomfortable stools you’ve had for well over two years now, but it offers a weird comfort because it’s familiar, it’s something San knows, it’s something you share and have shared for years. 

“Thanks for the meal,” San says, still wearing a bitten-back smile. 

“Of course. Thank you for helping.” But the detrimental reality of not speaking to someone properly for a long while is that part of you forgets how to make conversation with them. There is nothing for you and San to “catch up on” seeing as you’ve been keeping each other updated on your lives through dry text conversations. “Um…” He’s eyeing you carefully now, and you could pass off the watering in your eyes as the spice of the food, but he would call your bluff in an instant. The funny thing about doubt is that once it’s taken root, it’ll keep growing back no matter how many times you chop at the stem.

“What’s wrong, y/n?”

“It’s just — I don’t — are we breaking up?”

San freezes halfway over his ramen, chopsticks nearly falling from his fingers as he rushes to put his noodles back down. Your shoulders start shaking before you can stop it. He doesn’t stop you from turning away from him, but San has always been endlessly patient and gentle with you so you don’t expect him to ask you to look at him anyway. He does rest a hand atop your forearm though, and his thumb drags small, comforting circles over your skin. 

“Talk to me, y/n, what do you mean by that? Why would we be breaking up?” The words themselves sound calm. There’s a slight quiver to his tone, however, that makes you want to crawl inside yourself and disappear. “A-Are you wanting that?” Your continued lack of response makes San more urgent than ever, and he shifts his hand to your leg, spinning you to face him. You can’t be certain of the expression on your face (though you’d wager there is some degree of hurt); whatever San sees makes him let out a distressed noise from the back of his throat. “Come here, duck, talk to me.”

Standing on somewhat shaky legs, you push yourself closer to San, and he instinctually moves his knees apart to let you tuck yourself into the space there.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m here, you can talk to me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your face in his hands. You reach down to cling to his shirt like it’s a lifeline. 

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in weeks. This is the first time we’ve spent time together in six days. We’ve barely spoken or spent time together all semester, and I know why — I know we agreed that school and work have to come first. I know that.” Your voice drops to a whisper as you lose the confidence to speak. “I didn’t think it would mean losing you though.”

“You haven’t lost me, y/n. I’m still here, with you, loving you just as much as ever.” San smiles a little as you push your cheek further into his palm. “My feelings have not changed. I thought about you every day, wondered how you were doing, and if you responded to my texts late, I hoped you were eating well and getting enough rest. I listened to your voice memos rooting for me every night. Your face was always the first thing I saw in the morning because I still keep that slideshow of you as my lockscreen.” Reaching around to the back of your neck, he gives you a little tug, and your foreheads bump together. “The thought of you helped get me through the semester because I knew that it was you who was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.”

“Sannie…”

“How long have you been worried over this, baby? You should’ve come to me the moment you started having doubts. I wouldn’t have let this go on if I had known.”

“I thought I felt you pulling away so I was scared to bring it up. You weren’t calling me nicknames anymore, and I started reading into it too much and freaked myself out.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Don’t put the blame on yourself, it’s not a crime to have anxieties. I didn’t even realize I stopped using them. I suppose I just got swept up in my own feelings and wanted to call you by your name as much as possible.” He nudges you with his head again. “Because I missed you so dearly.” Your lips turn up at the corners, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “And because I adore you so so much, my y/n.”

“Stop that.” You hope he doesn’t, truly.

“But I’m so mushy and full of love for you, y/n.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Oh, I can think of other ways to do that, baby.” San stands, subsequently pushing his body into yours, but your hands are still on each other, his moving down to caress the back of your thigh before he hooks his fingers around the bend of your knee and hoists your leg up over his hip. “I haven’t been good to you, my sweet,” he murmurs close to your lips. “What kind of boyfriend am I if I let you feel unwanted?” Your heart skips a beat as he grips tight at your other leg, then you’re suddenly weightless for a second as he hoists you up to his waist.

“We just ate—”

“I don’t plan on letting that stop me.” You let out a gasp as San traces the line of your jaw with his lips, hot breath spilling across your skin as he carries you from the kitchen. “Unless you want it to?” This damned man knows what he’s doing, he knows the hold he has over you — your brain is already turning into a foggy mess of want, and even the prospect of waiting two minutes for him to lay his hands on you is too much to bear. Your nails drag across his shoulders, tugging at the thin material. He misses the doorknob to your bedroom thanks to your antics, sending you against the wood a little harshly and forcing the air out of your lungs. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Still on the pill.”

“Hm?” he echoes, managing to turn it right on the second try and popping it open properly.

“I’m still on the pill,” you repeat. San freezes in place to stare at your face. You bring a hand around to toy at his parted lips with your thumb. “So you can fuck me raw.”

San becomes so dumbstruck that his jaw moves up and down over and over without any semblance of noise coming out.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a horny teenager,” he says under his breath. You drop your head back and laugh. San’s hold on you feels so blissfully warm. You didn’t even have time for this during the semester, sometimes thanks to your workloads but more often thanks to sheer exhaustion. A few solo jaunts before bed are hardly enough to please you the way San does. Based on how tightly he’s gripping your ass, he seems to feel exactly the same.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He manages to get you both to the bed without further incident, laying you down on the mattress with a sort of reverence that makes your chest swell with emotion. Even through the barrier of clothing, his fingers are hot and sear a path from your hips up your waist then right back down again as San wastes no time in stripping you of your pants. 

“I missed you so fucking much it’s insane.” You want to respond, but the sight of your lover dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed stops you in your tracks. All you can do is lie there and watch him tug your pants off, lips moving to kiss each bit of exposed skin along the way. Goosebumps rise across your body when he kisses his way up higher. His broad frame cages you in the closer he gets to your face, and despite his hands being on the somewhat small side, they feel all-encompassing when they’re sneaking under your shirt and exploring the skin beneath.

“I missed you more,” you murmur, catching his chin between your fingers and angling his face upwards so you can properly look at him. “I love you so so much, San. More than I can put into words.”

“Yeah?” You make no effort to pull him higher although he moves as though you do and climbs all the way up to be right over your face. He hums before dipping down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I think I’ve missed you more still though—” another kiss, this time to the opposite side of your mouth “—but you’re welcome to challenge me on that.”

“San,” you whine. He pulls back and sits back on his knees. Your brain goes totally blank watching him take his shirt off. It’s something you’ve seen time and time again, truly nothing new or foreign to you, but something about it now makes your gut twist in on itself. He’s lost a bit of the muscle you’ve grown accustomed to seeing on him, now softer around the edges, at the waist and across his stomach. It doesn’t curb your desire for him in the slightest; if anything it makes you want him more, to cling to him tighter and feel him firmer against you.

He throws the shirt down to the floor and drags a hand through his dark hair. His legs are splayed around yours, putting the prominent bulge in his pants on full display before you.

“I want you to use me, y/n.” He grabs your hand from where it’s resting against the bed and brings it to his chest. You dig your nail into his flesh like it’s second nature to do so. “Tonight, for your pleasure.” His eyes trail after your every moment, watching as you sit up and pull your legs out from under him. You graze the underside of his dick ever so slightly yet it’s still enough to make his lashes flutter. 

“Then…” San is like putty in your hands, conforming to every move you make while still maintaining that unbreaking eye contact. He turns with you, and you climb off the bed to stand despite feeling seconds away from toppling over. All it takes is the slightest push against his chest for him to lie flat on his back. “Will you be good for me?” 

His response comes in the form of a bitten-back whine thanks to you cupping the bulge of his cock as you withdraw your hand. It’s intoxicating to strip him of his jeans and feel every inch of his pretty tapered waist. You urge him to move further up on the bed, making room for you between his legs once you’ve tossed his pants down beside yours on the floor. The tip of his cock peeks out the top of his underwear, already stiff and leaking precum onto the elastic band. Saucy nudes here and there don’t do him nearly enough justice, you think. You tease just the bit of him that's exposed with your tongue, licking at the sensitive and swollen head, and he twitches beneath the fabric. Humming to yourself, you inch his underwear down just far enough to put his whole member on display, along with his balls, but you don’t go any further than that. It’s enough for you to get your mouth around him, after all, and that’s exactly what you do without giving San any time to brace himself for the touch.

He lets out a desperate moan the moment your wet heat envelopes his length, fingers curling into his palms around the comforter. His hips twitch with the desire to thrust upwards, but he keeps himself firmly planted on the bed, fulfilling his end of the bargain for you and being so delightfully good. The weight of him on your tongue isn’t nearly enough; you want him buried deep inside you as soon as possible, and you’d go on and do it now if you didn’t think it would hurt like a bitch given how long it’s been since you’ve taken him. San isn’t distracted enough to miss the way you retract a hand to touch yourself, and he fights to speak through broken moans.

“I w-wanna touch you, pretty.” You lift yourself off his cock until just the tip sits on your lower lip.

“I’ll let you later when I ask you to fold me in half and fuck me into the mattress.” You sink two fingers into your hole, taking San back into your mouth to revel in that full feeling again. You’re just as needy as he is, in reality, because your walls are already coated with arousal and it pools around the base of your fingers in such a way that it makes your cheeks flush. San’s noises aren’t helping in the slightest — for as quiet as he is in day-to-day life, he is ever so vocal when it comes to sex, especially when his cock is buried in your mouth. He’s just long enough to push right into the back of your throat, making it far easier for you to take him fully. 

“Your mouth feels so — fuck, fucking good, baby.” If you weren’t preoccupied, you would love to return his words with your own, so you settle for tugging at his balls a little. It earns you a delightful little yelp, and his hips buck up to drive his dick further into your throat than expected. “Hngh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I want—” you don’t finish your train of thought, too rushed to bother with it as you scramble to rid yourself of your underwear. San greets you with his hands when you climb back onto the bed and grabs hold of your waist. He tugs and pulls at your shirt until it’s gone too, leaving you with nothing more than your plain black bra. However, even that San seems to find issue with, because he toys with the clasp until it comes loose and throws that aside too.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, settling back against the mattress. He’s always told you this is his favorite position, to see you straddling his hips and bouncing on his cock, though he favors missionary quite a bit as well because it lets him see your body and face while he’s fucking you (despite how much he loves your ass). His cock is trapped between your pussy and his stomach now, hard and throbbing for the same kind of stimulation you so desperately crave. You drag your folds along his length a few times just to tease San, but he grips your hip in warning. In hindsight, you should have let him finger you open more before because the stretch is far more than you remember — not enough to hurt, but enough for you to really feel every inch of him entering your body. It makes you writhe atop him, your spine arches, and you drop your head back. San holds you like you're a precious gem, thick arms circling around your waist as you rest your hands on his chest. The position gives you some much-needed stability, but San's fingers have begun to get severely distracting. He rolls his thumbs into your skin, pausing only to squeeze and pinch at the more sensitive parts of your sides. 

“I’m gonna start moving,” you whisper like being too loud will break some sort of seal. San nods and unwraps his arms enough to simply hold your hips. Despite the decrease in definition of his muscles, his strength doesn’t seem to have gone anywhere, because he lifts you with such ease that it’s a bit dizzying. Still, he lets the control rest in your hands. You sink down slowly on his cock, letting your walls get used to the drag, before doing the same motion two, three more times. The first whimper to fall from your lips is what snaps your resolve. San’s hold on you remains firm but only to ease the strain on your thighs as you begin to pick up your pace. 

“Beautiful, beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my sweet.” San rolls his hips up in time with your movements, driving his cock up into your cunt as you drop yourself onto him, and it reaches so deep inside you that you see stars behind your eyelids. “Missed you so much, missed this, seeing your body through photos wasn’t enough — fuck, it wasn’t enough.”

“How many, ah, times did you come to those photos, hm?” You crack one eye open to watch San’s face. He’s already flushed with want, but the red in his cheeks deepens more upon hearing your question. You lean your weight further into your hands. “I fingered myself so many times thinking of you, Sannie. B-But, hngh, it wasn’t good enough. Not as good as your cock. Nothing… n-nothing feels as good!”

San thrusts up with more vigor now, all but taking over for you to go slack above him as he drives your hips down with his hands and pushes his length into you from the opposite direction. Then, suddenly, his movements falter and stutter to a halt, and he looks just as shocked as you are when his cock twitches against your walls. A blooming of warmth fills you right after, along with the realization that San has just come inside you without warning.

“I-I’m sorry, I — I didn’t mean to, ah, I thought I would last longer.” He slings an arm up over his eyes, and the red in his face deepens in hue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you come first.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Leaning down over him, you peel his arm away from his face so that you can see his shamed expression better.

“Your dick is far from the only thing that can make me come, babe. Right?” 

He nods a few times, but there’s still a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. 

“Then—” you detach yourself from his body, bringing about an unwelcome emptiness as his spent cock slips out of you, and roll onto your back beside him. He watches with rapt attention as you spread your legs and open your pussy to him. “Why don’t you?”

San moves with surprising haste for a man who has just come, rolling into the space between your legs, and while you expected him to just use his fingers to get you off, he hooks his hands around your thighs and shoves his face into your used cunt instead. It yanks a startled moan out of you, and it’s only amplified when he closes his lips around your clit. He’s lucky you don’t give him a concussion with how quickly you slam your thighs around his head. You don’t notice that he’s moved a hand until fingers are prodding at your leaking entrance and urging the come he just pumped into you back into your hole.

“O-Oh, San.” 

Normally, he takes his sweet time eating you out, bringing you to the precipice of orgasm before sending you right back down time and time again without release. Though, either out of lingering shame at coming early or simply out of a desire to make you unravel, San laps at your clit so eagerly that it sends shudders through you. You can feel your blood rushing lower as he urges you to come, walls clenching around his fingers. It only takes another second more for the first wave to hit you, and it makes you scramble to grab hold of San’s hair as he keeps curling his fingers over your sweet spot. He does so throughout each wave of your orgasm until tears burn the corners of your eyes and you’re all but pleading for him to grant you some mercy.

“You — you had nothing to prove, you know,” you say between desperate attempts to catch your breath. San giggles and looks up at you from his lewd position. “Ugh!” You shove his head away from you half-heartedly just to spare yourself more embarrassment.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, duck!”

You only go as far as the pillows, turning back to him immediately and opening your arms to welcome him into them. 

“I came too early, of course I had something to prove,” he adds once he’s snugly placed against your chest. You slot together like two pieces of a puzzle, his head under your chin and your breath stirring the messy strands of hair in your path. “I’ve fallen out of practice. When was the last time I did that? It’s embarrassing…”

You can’t contain your laughter.

“You always come a little early when I ride you.”

“That’s not fair!”

All you can do to soothe him is pat his head. You feel a tad sticky and gross all over, but San’s warmth more than makes up for it, and if you’re not careful, you’re certain you’ll fall asleep within minutes. A small sniffle coming from the man atop you chases thoughts of rest away in the blink of an eye though.

“San?”

“’m okay, promise.”

“You’re crying, baby, that’s not ”okay“.”

“I just,” he inhales and licks over his lips, skating across your sternum in the process. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna stay afloat without you.” You comb your fingers through his hair.

“Tell me when you need me and I’ll be there. Always.”

“I didn’t want to disrupt your schedule and get in the way.”

“You have to trust that I’ll take care of myself and my responsibilities even if I help you too. You always tell me that when I worry over the same things. It goes both ways, San, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods against you. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that. As long as you don’t lock yourself away when things get tough. Rely on me if you need strength. And talk to me when something is on your mind.”

“Alright, we have an agreement.” Out of nowhere, you remember Wooyoung’s suggestion from this morning. Picking at a stray piece of San’s hair, you mull over your thoughts some more. You could let things settle as they are now since things seem to be back to a pleasant state of balance. But even so, would it do any harm to try anyway? “I’d like to go on a first date again. With you. I want us to go on a first date again.”

“Hm?”

“Like… I want us to go out like it’s the first time all over again. And feel that excitement and giddiness we had back then. We don’t have to, it’s just a thought. I don’t know. Maybe it’d be a good thing after this semester.”

Silence overtakes the room. San’s breathing is so steady that you think he’s fallen asleep, but the second you try to shift and see his face, he tilts his head up and looks into your eyes.

“Alright. Let’s go on a first date again.”

…

“I figured we’d go to that little Thai place by the grocery before heading over to the Christmas light show?”

“Oh!” Your thoughts rearrange themselves around his words. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”

“The guys wanna meet up at Wooyoung’s after for chicken and beer, but I told them I’d leave the decision up to you.” He tilts his chin a bit to the side as he speaks, lips quirked up at the corners, and you find yourself so incredibly fond of him all over again.

“Let’s see how we feel after walking around.”

You offer to drive tonight, but he denies you quickly, whining about how he filled his tank full of gas just for tonight so you don’t push the matter any further than that (though, you still tease him a bit once he opens the passenger door for you). When he turns the car on, music starts blasting through the speakers, a song you recognize well, and the dash shows that he’s been listening to the playlist you made for him at the start of the last school year. 

“Sorry, forgot the volume was up so high.” He scrambles to twist the dial down, but you stop him with your hand, gripping his wrist lightly and giving a firm shake of your head.

“I didn’t realize you still listened to it. Normally you just have the radio going.”

“Ah, well,” San’s cheeks are a bit flush under the low lights of the car, “I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit sentimental these days.” His next move is a bit hesitant; he reaches across the console and lays his hand atop your thigh. You reassure him by putting your hand over his, fingers curling around his once again. It feels normal and familiar, though you can’t count on two hands the last time you’ve done something as menial as holding hands with San. 

“San?” He makes a noise of acknowledgment while watching the road. “I’ve missed you.” His nails dig into your flesh a little, and the pressure makes your heart clench in your chest.

“I’ve missed you more.” You can only see his side profile, but it’s enough for you to catch the upturn of his lips. 

“I’ve missed you most then.” The statement slips out through a pout. 

“And I love you more than the moon loves the ocean.”

The weight of his hand is comfort enough for you to be at ease for the rest of the drive.

────────────

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this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 1

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts You move next door to a disabled veteran and his troubled partner.

Warnings and details: disabled!Johnny; established Ghoap future Ghoap/reader; domestic abuse (not Ghoap); heavy themes of suicide, violence, abuse, poor coping mechanisms, prescription drugs. I’m not sure if I have anything here, let me know if anyone is interested in this series.

#

A helicopter goes down in the mountains of Kazakhstan and it takes a piece of Soap with it. They never recovered the arm—nor the three service members who lost more than their arms in the crash. The thought is one that Johnny’s mind cycles back to often, in moments of quiet or while he lies awake at night feeling tremors in an arm that’s no longer attached. Suddenly he’ll wonder: what are those bones up to, buried in snow and ice so deep the sun will never touch them again? Do they miss me?

Fuck, he misses them.

#

After the accident, the world is very black and white. Mostly it’s black. Blackness at the edge of his vision threatens to creep in when he stands too long, when he stands on his own, when he turns his head too fast. Anytime his blood pressure rises over that Goldilocks number of 120/80, it threatens to drop him faster than Simon used to during their first weeks of training together in the 141.

The doctors say that he’s a miracle. The traumatic brain injury had his brain swelling and pushing at the confines of his skull like water freezing in a bottle. Give him a little longer in the cold and maybe his cap would blow off. Except it hadn’t; he was still dealing with swelling all over: in his thalamus, his hypothalamus, in his cerebrum, all the words he’d never bothered to learn in school and couldn’t fucking remember now no matter how hard he tries. He gets the point. Simon does too. Johnny should be dead.

Instead he just wishes he were.

Even now, when he can remember his name and Simon’s and even (more often than not) the name of the waitress who serves them chicken and waffles at the local diner every Saturday, there are still more bad days than good. Still more darkness than light. Still more nights waking up to the sound of helicopter blades slowing, the relentless hum becoming a deafening chop chop chop like the thrum of his heartbeat. There’s that moment of weightlessness when the helicopter goes down and he has yet to go with it that makes him wake in a cold sweat, nauseous and looking for something to be sick in.

Through it all, Simon is there. Simon is the light. He’d laugh if he heard Johnny say that—though a laugh is probably too generous. Simon doesn’t laugh much these days. Not when he spends three fourths of his time taking care of Johnny and the other fourth thinking about how better to take care of Johnny. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny would have done himself in by now. There’s a thousand ways to do it; plenty of arms and munitions in the apartment they share together. Or there are the pain pills, if he wanted it to look like an accident. A few too many of those and he could crawl right through that darkness in his vision and find out what’s on the other side. As soon as the thought crosses his mind (and it crosses his mind more often than that fucking chicken crosses the road), the guilt comes, like anyone and everyone can read it on his mind: his mama rest her soul, Simon, Jesus on the cross. After all of the work that has gone into him, into saving his broken body and mind, into rehabilitating him, how can he even think of throwing in the towel?

Turns out it’s pretty fucking easy to think about it.

As a matter of fact, he’s thinking about it the first time he meets you, when you nearly do the job for him.

It’s spring, cool, and he’s working up a goddamn sweat anyway. Simon stands in the alleyway, smoking and pretending not to watch as Johnny hobbles up and down the length of the parking lot with his forearm crutch. His armpit throbs. His knee throbs. His head throbs as he continues along, beating out a strange little rhythm on the concrete—thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump. He says all the curse words he knows and dreams up a few new ones too. It’s supposed to be getting easier, but Simon just pushes him harder to make up for the ground he covers. That’s one of the shitty parts about loving an ex-military man; he never goes easy on you.

Johnny’s thinking about the tub upstairs, just big enough for him if he curls in on himself. Sometimes a hot bath helps the knots in his muscles, but sometimes when Simon leaves the room to get a washcloth Johnny will slip beneath the surface of the water and see how long he can hold his—

Then you come out of absolutely nowhere in your shitty little four-door and nearly hit him. As a matter of fact, you do hit his crutch, sending it sprawling out of his hand and sending him clattering to the ground on his bad side. For a moment, he thinks: this is it. This is how I die. Not in a helicopter in Kazahkstan but here, now, today, and he can’t tell if it’s relief in his belly or regret. Then your tires squeal like pigs on the pavement, the smell of burnt rubber thick in the air, and he is face to face with you and your horror, close enough that the air from your hasty turn brushes along his body and sends his heart pounding.

“What the steaming bloody fucking Jesus do you think you’re doing?” he finds himself shouting, pain lancing all along his side from his fake knee to the stump of his arm. Simon is there all at once, cigarette abandoned to smolder to ash in the alleyway, putting his hands under Johnny’s armpits and lifting him like a child even when he yelps in pain like a kicked dog. Johnny leans against him heavily. The edges of his vision are turning black. He bangs his fist against the hood of your car. “Did Jesus send ye? Did He tell ye to finish the fucking job and do me in? ‘That’s the cunt right there, beam him with your car’? Did he tell you that?”

You reluctantly get out of the car, not even wearing a goddamn seatbelt. The car’s soft, insistent alarm begins to remind you with unending politeness that the door is open and your seatbelt is off while you stand there, pallid, eyes huge and watering in the face of Johnny’s shouts.

He sees then that one of your eyes is swollen almost completely shut, blood turning the white sclera pink like the fine mist of blood over the snow when they finally pulled Johnny free from the helicopter. No wonder you didn’t see him coming, with a single functioning eye. He’s opened his mouth to tell you so (and to tell you a dozen other fucking things) when he nearly swoons, the rug of the world being tugged under his feet by the hand of God.

Simon slips a firmer arm around Johnny’s waist.

A man gets out of the passenger side. He begins to berate you for not paying attention, for nearly killing Johnny. Johnny agrees, but is annoyed all the same. He’s the one who almost died; leave the shouting to him.

“I’m so sorry,” you choke out, tears dripping near-constant from your eyes. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Let me get your—”

“Done enough, haven’t you?” Simon asks cooly. It sends you reeling back into the car where you sit with both hands over your mouth, chest hitching with your panicked sobs.

“Hey, is he, like, okay?” your partner asks.

“Fuck off,” Simon says, deftly ushering Johnny over one shoulder and holding the crutch in the other. He carries them back to the elevators without breaking a sweat, and Johnny cries on his shoulder from the pain of it, the sheer embarrassment of it the whole way home. The day before Kazahkstan he couldn’t have been able to tell you the last time he cried; now he cries every fucking day from one reason or another.

“I’m fine,” Johnny says when they make it back to the apartment and Simon eases him down into a chair. They arrange his knee in the one position that has it throbbing less, but then Johnny bats Simon’s hands away. “Go. I’m fine. I don’t need you hoverin’ over me.”

“Alright.”

“Fuck off with yer alright.”

Simon doesn’t say anything. Johnny hears his footsteps leading toward the bedroom they share—hardly a bedroom, how long has it been since they slept there together peacefully? Since they fucked? Johnny can tell you how long it’s been. Since before things went black and white. The footsteps stop then.

“You stepped in front of her, Johnny,” Simon says, his voice low but not quiet enough to count as a whisper. “I watched you do it. Don’t think you’re so fucking slick.”

He shuts the bedroom door behind him.

[rosyrosethings]

King Harry and the Nanny

Summary : Harry and the nanny get snowed in together

Smut, fluff, daddy kink

Y/N seamlessly transitioned into her role as the live-in nanny, balancing her online studies with caring for Anastasia and James, who quickly grew fond of her. She took on the position after the previous nanny had an accident and couldn't continue, and Y/N was a natural fit due to her prior experience with the royal family. King Harry was welcoming and kind, in stark contrast to Queen Charlotte's reserved and distant demeanor. The Queen rarely interacted with her children or Y/N, maintaining a cold and detached presence.

The royal family planned a trip to the Netherlands for a special event. Queen Charlotte was attending a summit for influential women in Ireland and was scheduled to join the family in the Netherlands later that evening. The event was a royal wedding that spanned the entire weekend, starting with a Friday afternoon tea party, followed by an adults-only royal dinner on Friday night, and concluding with the wedding on Saturday. The children would not attend the wedding but would spend Sunday with King Harry and Queen Charlotte for a family day.

On Thursday evening, as a fierce winter storm unleashed its fury outside, Y/n, Harry, and the children were engrossed in a movie night. Harry momentarily stepped into the kitchen to answer a phone call, leaving Y/n cozy on the couch with James and Anastasia. They were absorbed in the movie—James fixated on the screen and Anastasia, with her blonde curls that echoed her mother’s beauty, softly snoring on Y/n’s chest.

Harry returned from the kitchen with a solemn look. Seeing Y/n look out the window biting her lip. Worry is written all over her.

"I've just received word that the Queen won't make it out tonight because of the storm. And it seems we're in for a long haul; the storm's expected to last the entire weekend. The entire wedding has been canceled. Looks like we're stranded here until Monday," he announced.

Y/n nodded slightly not too bothered by the fact that she snowed in, in a multi-million dollar home.

James's eyes lit up with a hopeful glint as he turned towards Y/n. "Does this mean you're staying over tonight, Y/n?" he inquired.

Harry was well aware of the special bond that had formed between James and Y/n, owing much to her being the most youthful nanny they had employed. James often went out of his way to pick flowers for her and would ask with anticipation about when she would come by again, always referring her to stay at the guest house nearby or even in his room with him. Harry loved to see her be so natural with his children. A mother love isn't something that they have truly experienced. Charlotte being very cold and distant.

Y/n hesitated for a moment. "I have to get back to the guest house —" the house she was told she would stay in when the kids were with their parents.

"In this storm? That's not happening. It's far too risky," Harry cut in, settling into a seat noticeably closer to her than before.

"It's really dangerous, Y/n," James added, his small tone and serious demeanor caused Y/n to giggle.

"But it's just a short walk away," she countered, it was on the property about 200 feet away and she liked this position

"Y/n, you'll be staying here tonight. That's final," Harry stated, his voice resonating with a kingly authority that sent a shiver of excitement through her.

"As you say, my king," she replied softly, meeting his gaze. Her eyes slightly looking up at him. A thrill raced through her at his assertive yet protective stance. In that moment, Harry could see a subtle shift in her, a newfound respect and perhaps something more, sparked by his firm but gentle command.

Y/n adjusted her long white maxi skirt, the fabric flowing gently around her. Her white sweater, slightly too large, draped elegantly off one shoulder, revealing a hint of her brown skin—a stark contrast to the pristine fabric. Anastasia, finding solace in Y/n's warmth, nestled her head against Y/n's shoulder, causing her to tilt her head slightly to accommodate Anastasia. This unintentional pose gave Harry an unobstructed view of her neck, a sight that unexpectedly stirred something within him.

Harry found himself in a complex emotional landscape. The queen, his wife, hadn't been engaging in their intimate life, often cutting their moments short, leaving a chasm of unfulfilled desires between them. This growing distance in their marriage had begun to affect their connection, gradually eroding the love and passion that once defined their relationship. Engulfed in his royal duties, Harry realized it had been months, years even since he experienced a genuine, affectionate touch, a realization that now, in Y/n's inadvertent display of vulnerability and grace, ignited a longing he hadn't acknowledged in a long while.

"James, I believe it's time for bed," Harry announced, noting the time was already 10 PM. James immediately turned his pleading green eyes towards Y/n, knowing full well her weakness for his adorable gaze.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but a little more time surely couldn't hurt," Y/n responded, mirroring James's imploring look towards Harry. Harry, feeling his resolve crumble before those brown eyes.

"All right, one more hour, but that's the limit," he declared with a tone of finality. James's face lit up with a grin, and he nestled himself snugly between Y/n and Harry.

"I really enjoy movie nights with you Y/n!" James exclaimed joyously, his declaration drawing a light laugh from Y/n. It wasn't long before the late hour took its toll, and James drifted off to sleep, using Y/n's lap as a pillow while her fingers tenderly massaged his scalp.

"I'll take James to his room, and you can see to Anastasia. Afterwards, I'll show you where you'll be staying tonight," Harry suggested. Y/n nodded, gingerly rising to not disturb the sleeping children. As Harry gently scooped James from her lap, Y/n took Anastasia in her arms, carrying her to her bedroom—a nursery befitting a princess.

"Goodnight Anna, I will see you tomorrow." Y/n whispered laying her in the bed. The girl snuggled into the bed. Y/n walked out of the room. The sound of the storm wind getting louder and louder. Harry walked out of James room which was right next to Anastasia.

"Right this way," The king said as he led Y/n to the room across the hall. He opened the door

"Everything required for your comfort is available here—there's clothing and a private bathroom for your use."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she replied, offering a bow and then straightening up, her demeanor respectful yet warm.

Harry lingered in the doorway, a thoughtful look crossing his features. "Is there anything else you might need?" he inquired, his posture casual yet clearly showing he was attentive to her needs.

"I believe I have everything, thank you, my king," she responded, turning to face him fully, her expression one of genuine appreciation.

Harry chuckled lightly, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "I should warn you, my son might be overly enthusiastic about your stay. He might even pay you a nighttime visit. He's quite smitten with you, Y/n."

She couldn't help but smile at the thought. "That's very sweet. It's an honor to be held in such high regard by a prince."

"It's not hard to see why," Harry observed, taking a small step closer, which seemed to diminish the distance between them more than physically. "You've brought a lot of joy into our lives. The children are happier, and I must admit, joining in for movie night with you and the kids was a first for me. You've made quite an impact."

As Harry closed the gap between them, Y/n found herself looking up to meet his gaze, a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. His proximity and the warmth of his words were overwhelming.

"It's simply part of my duties, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice steady despite the quickening of her pulse, dipping in a small bow in gratitude for his kindness.

Gently, Harry lifted her chin with his hand, encouraging her to look at him directly. "When it's just us, please, call me Harry. Formalities seem unnecessary, don't you agree?" His voice was soft, almost inviting.

Y/n managed to steady her nerves, though the gesture sent a ripple of anticipation through her. "Of course, Your Maj...," she began, only to be met with a raised eyebrow from Harry, his hand still gently cradling her chin. "Harry," she corrected herself, her heart skipping at the informal address.

Harry's smile widened, pleased with her calling her Harry. "I hope you have a good night, Y/n. And should you need anything, don't hesitate to wake me."

"Thank you... Harry," she said, the name feeling both forbidden and thrilling. The brief rebellion of dropping the formalities added an unexpected intimacy to their interaction, leaving her heart racing as he finally withdrew, leaving her to the quiet of the room and the storm outside.

Once Harry left. Y/n took a shower and slipped into a silk nightgown. The sound of the storm was keeping her awake. She didn't really like storms. She looked out the window to see the raging snow storm while she laid in bed. Hoping she will be tired enough to fall asleep.

In the quiet of the night, a soft knock and the sound of sniffles. Y/n who still has not been sleep. She was reading a book on her phone. she quickly rose to investigate, finding James at her door, tears in his eyes.

"James, what's bothering you?" she asked, bending down to his level with concern.

"I had a nightmare, and my night light won't work anymore," he sobbed. Y/n offered a comforting nod.

"Let's go see if we can fix it," she suggested, leading him back to his room. After placing James on his bed, she examined the night light and tightened the bulb, which immediately restored its comforting glow.

"All set," she announced, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

"It's time to try and sleep again," she added gently.

"Thank you, Y/n," he murmured, settling back into his pillow. "Could you sing to me?" he asked, his voice small. Y/n nodded, kneeling beside the bed to be closer as she began to sing "Once Upon a Dream," her fingers softly combing through his hair until he drifted off. She stood, her smile lingering, only to startle at the sight of Harry in the doorway, his appearance unexpectedly striking without a shirt.

"You scared me, Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of surprise as she edged past him, quietly closing the door.

"My apologies, love, I didn't mean to startle you. I was just admiring the way you handle everything with such grace," Harry said, closing the distance between them slightly. Y/n, caught off guard, darted her gaze away from his bare chest, acknowledging his compliment with a shy nod.

"Eye contact is usually expected when speaking with the king, especially in conversation," he remarked, his tone authoritative yet tinged with humor. He enjoyed the slight fluster his presence invoked in Y/n during their private exchanges, taking pleasure in the way her nervousness made her even more endearing. Y/n looked up at him.

"Im sorry, Your majesty." She said, she stated looking up at him. The moonlight illuminating his green eyes.

"Harry." He said correcting her. The storm raged on hearing a branch hit the large window. Causing Y/n to step closer to Harry in fear. But they were already close. Harry immediately put his arm around her with a chuckle.

"It appears James isn't the only one a bit wary of the storm," he observed, the warmth in his voice and the protective embrace offering comfort amidst the tempest outside.

"I am sorry Your-. I mean Harry." She said, tried to take a step back even though she liked to stay in his arm. But Harry had her. She couldn't move. "Storms kinda make me uneasy I haven't been able to sleep all night." She said, as she looked up at him.

"You haven't been able to sleep? It's almost 4am." He said looking down at her. He could see the tiredness in her eyes.

"Join me—you won’t be frightened, and I need my nanny alert and attentive," he offered. While Y/N did yearn to share his bed, her desires extended far beyond just sleep.

"Harry I can't do-." Harry pulled her closer. They were chest to chest and centimeters away from one another.

"None of that. you're sleeping with me in bed. It wasn't really a question. More of a demand from your king." He said with a slight grin. Y/n couldn't help but smile at him.

"Umm, okay." She said softly, Harry took a step back and opened the door to his bedroom. Y/n walked inside standing on the side of of the bed. Harry close the door behind him and walked to the other side of the bed getting in the bed. He looked up at Y/n.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Harry encouraged, noticing her hesitation. Y/n finally nodded, climbing into the bed and carefully staying on her side of the bed, her back rigid as she faced the ceiling, aware of every small movement.

Harry, noting her stiffness, turned on his side, propping his head up with his hand. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone laced with concern as he sensed her tension.

"Yes, I'm fine," Y/n replied hastily, her voice a touch too swift to mask her inner turmoil. Harry shifted closer, the subtle brush of their legs sending a shiver up her spine. As he hovered above her, his gaze intense and probing, Y/n met his eyes. The proximity was overwhelming—every glance, every small gesture he made, seemed to intensify her longing for him. It felt as if with each moment, her restraint was being tested, pushed to its very limits, like water rising perilously close to the brim of a glass, ready to overflow at the slightest touch.

"You seem a bit tense," he noted, his face mere inches from hers, his breath warming the silent air. "I'm actually quite the cuddler," he whispered, slipping his arm under the blanket and around her waist to draw her closer. His head nestled against her shoulder, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his arm securing her against him. Y/N remained rigid, overwhelmed by his pleasing scent and the softness of his skin. The sensation of his breath on her neck was almost too much to bear, her excitement nearly reaching its peak.

"Is this okay?" he murmured, his lips brushing her neck, sending a wave of warmth through her. She couldn't find her words. She just let out a small "mhmmm" in response. He chuckled and started to trace up and down his side with his fingers.

”You smell so pleasant.” He said, the tip of his nose slightly going up and down her neck.

”Thank you Harry.” the slight movement of Harry's hand relaxed her body and she was super tired. Exhausted she had been up all day with James and Anastasia since 6 am. Harry distracting her from the storm.

"You seem exhausted love, tell me about your day." Harry said, trying to relax her.

"Well, first I had to wake up super early to make sure I get to the Castle on time because me and my roommate have to plan accordingly to shower because our hot water goes out fast. So we have to shower 2-3 hours in between each other. Then I get to the castle and Anastasia wouldn't stop crying til I found her favorite babydoll while I was trying to get her packed accordingly for the trip. Which I could not find anywhere and our flight left in a couple hours..." she continued to rant about her day. Relaxing more and more as Harrys hand went up her shoulder. His fingers traced over the spaghetti strap.

"Mhmmm." He said encouraging her to keep speaking. Harry listening to her intently. She went on about the kids and how they weren't up for learning time today.

".. then the sound of the wind whistling and branching falling creeps me out and I just haven't been able to sleep but now it feels good to just relax." She said, Harry noting now she relaxed. Her body relaxed not as stiff.

"Im sorry you had such a long day, how could I make it better?" He asked, her eyes fluttering close as his hands made their way down her side. His hands still tracing her body.

”keep doing that.” she felt as if she was melting. His face was still in her neck. ”I think I can help a bit more.” he said slightly before placing a Tinder kiss on her neck. Y/n bit her lip as he continued to kiss down her neck. His mouth made its way to her collarbone. Pampering her with kisses. Causing a slight moan from Y/n. He gently let the strap off her shoulder pulling it and making his way to her breast. He licked his lips before taking her nipple into her mouth. Her moans were like music to his ears. His tongue flicked and swirled over her nipple.

”do you like that?” he asked looking up at her as he continued to lick on the nipple. He saw a slight nod.

”Use Your words when I ask you a question.” he said, as he sat up and started to pull down the other strap.

”Yes, I like it a lot.” she responded, and he smiled. ”Good girl.” he said as he slid her other nipple into his mouth. His hand made his down to to her nightgown. He pulled up the fabric till his hand found a way to her inner thighs. His hand found what he was looking for. Immediately met with wetness.

”Mmmm, so wet already. You got this wet for me be baby?" He said, his hand sliding over the wet fabric between her legs. Her moans a bit louder.

"Yes Harry." She mumbled out. Her eyes closed enjoying his touch. His fingers applying slight pressure to her clit, causing her to moan a bit louder. "Ohh you like that?" He asked, before doing again slightly. Letting out a another moan. Him enjoying the pleasure he brought her. Its been so long. He didn't realize how much he missed it till she was underneath him moaning up his name. He looked up at her and leaned down to kiss her lips softly. Y/n who was melting in his touch felt like she was going to have an orgasm already. His lips perfectly matched with hers. His tongue slid in her mouth.

He removed his hand from her. "Lets get this off you first." He said pulling down the gown off her body. Leaving her just in her panties. "You're so beautiful." He said looking down at her and her body. She looked up at him. Her fingers hooking on the waist of the pajamas pants pulling her towards him. He complied and her lips met his. Moving in sync as he grind his hips in between her legs. His hard cock pushing against her wet pussy. His lips still not removing from hers. She loved how his mouth felt on hers.

"I do love to kiss this little mouth of yours but right now I want to kiss something else." He said as he scooted down on his knees. Pulling down her panties. She lifted her legs up and watched as he pulled panties slowly down her legs to her ankle over her foot and threw the off the bed. His hand on her ankle. He placed kisses from her ankle to her inner thigh. His face now in between her legs.

"You have such a pretty pussy baby." He said kissing the other inner of her thigh. "And you're dripping wet for me." He added, as he pulled her hips closer to his face. He immediately did not waste time stuffing his face in her pussy.

Y/n looked down at him as she put her hands in in his hair. "Harrrry." She moaned. Her hands holding tightly on his hair. He let out a moan in response. He pulled away from her pussy.

"You taste so good baby. I can eat this pussy all day." He said as he slid a finger in her pussy. Thrusting the finger in and out her pussy. His tongue finding its way back to her clit. His fingers moving fast. With his tongue was becoming too much for her. He continued to lick down to her ass.

"Fuck Harry." She moaned. He tongue continued to travel up and down to her ass. Up to her pussy.

"Harry.." she moaned out slowly. His face deep in her pussy. Harry moaned in response knowing she was going to cum.

"You wanna cum baby? Hmm wanna get these pussy juices all over me baby?" He said his fingers moving deep inside her.

"Yes daddy. Im gonna cum." She moaned out. She grabbed Harrys hair rightly as she came. Harry licked up her pussy. He crawled up to her and kissed her. His tongue exploring every inch of her mouth. Her body limp but she kissed back enjoying his mouth and her taste. Harry enjoyed being called Daddy. Since he has never been called that before.

"Can you fuck me now?" She asked her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes looking up at his. The tiredness still in her eyes.

"Who would thought my little nanny is such a little slut for her king." he said with a smirk. Her blinks lasting longer each time. She had slight goofy grin.he chuckled laying down on his back. Pulling her over to him.

"Rest, my love. You are weary." He said, she snuggled into his side. She looked up at him.

"Are you sure? Im not Ti-." She said, Harry cut her off.

"Shh sleep you go." He said as kissed her forehead.

//

The next morning Y/n woke up to day light. A bit confused on the time. She looked around she was in her room. Memories of the night before flashing before her. The king went down on her last night. Her hand went over her own mouth in shock.

"Was that a dream?" She mumbled to herself. No it seemed real. Her thought going back and forth. She wasn't in his room. She was in her bedroom. She reached over and grabbed her phone. Seeing the time was 12:45pm. Almost one.

"Fuck." she mumbled. She quickly got up and ran to the bathroom getting ready as quick as she can. Once she was ready she went downstairs where she heard the kids.

"Y/n!" James yelled from the living room. Harry in the living room playing with Anastasia. He ran up to hug her.

"Hi James!" She engulfed him in a hug.

"You slept for so long, daddy said it was because you were afraid of the storm." James said, stepping back to look her in the face.

"Did he say that?" Y/n questioned

"Yes, so if you get scared again tonight. I will sleep with you. I will keep you nice and protected.” he said standing up straight. Y/n smiled her heart warmed by his intention to. protect her.

”I know I could count on you James. If I get scared tonight I know who to call." She said tapping his little nose.

"Nanana!!" Anastasia mumbled reaching for Y/n. Y/n walked over to Anastasia gladly taking the toddler into her arms.

"Good afternoon Y/n. The kids have been waiting for to wake up. I told them not to disturb you. You needed all your rest after yesterday." He said with a slight smirk. he said to her as she took a seat next to him. She smiled at him Slightly.

"Thank you You're majesty. " she said, interrupted by Anastasia clapping her hands together.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. Y/n had made lunch and dinner. Even the kids helped make cookies for dessert. Which both turned into two messy children. Harry took the children up for bath and put them down for bed. The king had been acting normal but last night memories were on repeat in her head.

Was it a dream? And how the hell did she end up in the guest room? Y/n rolled up her sleeves. Cleaning up the mess left in the kitchen. She washed the dishes. Trying to piece together the pieces. She was just sooo tired last night that she was slept like a brick. She thinks Harry may be coming back but he doesn't come back for a while. She continues cleaning struggling with her thoughts.

"Do you need help?" Harry voice rang from the kitchen.

"N-No I got this your majesty. You just go get ready for bed." She said looking down at the dishes she was washing. Too shy to look at him. His beauty too much for her. He is still the king. She cant feel this way about him no matter how handsome he is.

Harry walked behind her. His hands found there way around her hips. His head made it way to her neck and he started to kiss down her neck.

"Am I making you nervous?." He asked,

"Your majesty I-." He cut her off

"Its Harry." He said in his authoritative voice. She but her lip in excitement. She likes when he tells her to call her Harry. She turned to face him.

"but you're distracting me from cleaning." She said looking up at him.

"Well you distract me from everything. Seeing you being so good with the children does something to me. I love seeing it but now its my time to have you all to myself." He said placing his hand under chin kissing her lips softly. She kissed back.

Here’s a revised version of that scene:

---

"Y/N!" James called out as he came running down the stairs. Startled, Y/N instinctively pushed Harry away, causing him to stumble back into the kitchen island with a thud.

She quickly stepped out of the kitchen to find little James standing at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Harry let out a pained "oof" as he steadied himself against the counter.

"What’s wrong, James?" Y/N asked, crouching down to his level, her concern evident.

"I want to sleep with you," he mumbled, looking up at her with those big, irresistible green eyes. Y/N, who could never say no to him, felt her heart melt.

"James, Y/N still has some things to finish, and it’s already past your bedtime," Harry said as he came out of the kitchen, rubbing the small of his back where he’d hit the counter. James turned to Y/N, his eyes instantly filling with tears, his lip trembling. Y/N shot Harry a look that clearly showed her displeasure.

"Actually, James, you can sleep with me," she said gently. "How about you go wait for me in my bed? Then maybe Daddy can read us a bedtime story."

James’s face brightened immediately, his earlier distress forgotten. "Okay! I’ll wait for you!" he exclaimed, dashing back up the stairs with newfound energy.

Y/N turned back to Harry, her expression shifting to one of concern. "I’m so sorry, Your Majesty!" she exclaimed, quickly moving to his side. He chuckled as she fussed over him, inspecting the spot where he’d hit the counter.

"Oh, so now you push me, and clearly James is your favorite. What about me?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes that made her giggle.

"You, my dear, are my King," she replied softly, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.

Harry smiled, the warmth of her affection soothing the dull ache in his back. "I’ll hold you to that," he said with a wink, the tension between them easing into something more tender and comfortable.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi,love ur stories 😍

I was wondering if u could do one based on 'I see the light' from tangled, where they meet at a mutual friends wedding or something, she was singing the song where she has the most melodiest voice and (charles, max or Pierre) somehow 'fall in love' at first sight of her along with her voice. Thx 😊😍

This was cute 💕 I hope you don't mind but I changed the setting a little bit.

Tangled Up In You || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x singer!fem!reader Warnings: fluff, slight angst with his ex, more fluff WC: 2.2k

F1 Masterlist

Children were known to be resilient creatures that could adapt well to changes but Penelope had struggled to understand why her and her mother no longer lived with Max. It had been six months and still she asked where her ‘Maxie’ was and why he couldn’t come with them to their new home. 

So, it came as no surprise when she was asked who she wanted to invite to her 4th birthday party that Max was at the top of the list.

“...you don’t have to come, I can say you are busy-”

“No, I’ll be there, Kel,” Max interrupted as he put the call on speaker and added the event to his calendar. “Is P there? Can I talk to her?”

“Sorry, she’s with Daniil picking out her princess dress. The theme’s Disney, of course,” Kelly laughed softly before she sighed. “Are you sure you want to come, or are you just being nice?”

“I want to come. I miss our tea parties, and standing on tiny pieces of lego.”

The silence on the line lingered for a moment before she couldn’t help asking. “Do you miss me?” 

This time it was Max who sighed. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

He hung up before she could apologise again. Somehow she always turned a conversation back to their relationship, but that wasn’t something Max would ever entertain. If the man knew one thing from his life of racing it was how to move forward and when the three year relationship he had run its course he had taken time to reflect, just like those post-race debriefs, and planned to use it as a lesson learned for next time.

Kelly had overdone it as usual. 

The largest ballroom of Hôtel de Paris had been transformed into a set straight from Disney and filled with actresses dressed as Penelope’s favourites princesses. 

It was easy to spot P when Max walked in because her excited squeals were impossible to miss and he followed the sound to the front of the stage where she was jumping excitedly.

“Maxie!” she screamed, running and jumping at him trusting he would catch her.

“Happy Birthday, P,” he grinned as he lifted her up into a hug. “I can’t believe you are two years old already.”

“I’m four, silly!”

“No, that can’t be. You can’t possibly grow up that quickly.”

“I can! Have you seen my princesses? My favourite one isn’t here yet but mummy said she’s going to be here any minute.”

Max scanned the room for the princesses and saw the usual ones like Cinderella, Snow White and Aurora. “Is Rapunzel still your favourite then?”

Penelope nodded with a big toothy grin. “She’s so pretty. I want to be like her when I grow up.”

Max put her down carefully and straightened the tiara sitting on her perfectly styled hair. “You are already prettier than everyone here, P.”

“There you are,” Kelly greeted Max as she left another conversation to join them, kissing his cheeks twice just a little too close to the corners of his lips. “Just in time too. Sweetheart, look who’s here.”

Penelope screamed as she spotted Rapunzel taking the stage, a long golden braid adorned with flowers hanging all the way down her back. “It’s her, it’s really her,” P squealed as she squeezed Max’s hand. “She’s beautiful.”

Max was in a state of shock as his jaw fell slack. “She is.”

The lights of the stage dimmed until only a single spotlight cast a warm glow to her skin, the braiding of hair around her head appearing like a golden crown, or more accurately, a halo.

Max recognised the song in an instant, remembering the evenings spent on the couch watching Tangled, P dancing across the living room floor as she sang her little heart out. The memory brought a smile to his lips and it only grew wider as the angel on the stage began to sing.

You double checked the wig was held firmly by the pins and not a strand of hair was out of place before running your palms over the dress to make sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle on the pastel pink material. Satisfied you were ready, you hooked the small microphone and earpiece into place and nodded to the sound engineer to start the cue.

It was no difficult task to smile brightly as the music began and you twirled out onto the stage, you lived for these days. Seeing the excitement and joy your performances made the children who witnessed it brought joy to your life. Seeing their eyes widen and their jaws drop was what motivated you to channel even deeper and give your all to the act.

All those days watching from the windows All those years outside looking in All that time never even knowing Just how blind I've been

You spotted the birthday girl at the front of the crowd and plucked a bright flower from the braid, kneeling down to tuck it behind her ear. Her smile widened and she could hardly stand still as she trembled with excitement.

You waved a hand to the ceiling and the projector illuminated it with a thousand little glowing dots and a surprised gasp whispered across the largest crowd you had ever sung to.

Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight Now I'm here, suddenly I see Standing here, it's all so clear I'm where I'm meant to be

You smiled at the little girl once more before spinning on your toes beneath the twinkling lights, the tulle skirt billowing around you as if you were floating away with them.

Around the room, the other casted characters were turning on their lanterns and raising them into the air on near invisible strings. You could perform this set a thousand times and never tire of seeing the crowd's reactions to the lanterns floating into the night sky.

And at last I see the light And it's like the fog has lifted And at last I see the light And it's like the sky is new

You scanned the crowd while they were in a state of wonderment looking up, but there was one man who wasn’t. He still held the same unblinking look of awe but he could have been oblivious to the lights the way he was staring right back at you.

There was something about the look that almost knocked you off your feet as your stomach flipped and heat burned on your cheeks under the intensity. His eyes, a pale shade of blue, drew you closer to the edge of the stage and his foot lifted as if he were to follow.

And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted

His lips moved like he knew the words by heart and you nearly missed the line as your heart skipped a beat. The rest of the crowd faded away as you knelt back where you had been and pulled another flower from your hair.

All at once everything looks different Now that I see you

He leaned forward and you tucked it behind his ear, your fingers grazing his jawline as you retreated. You were so absorbed by his shy smile and the blush highlighting his cheeks you didn’t notice the woman standing to the side of him. For a moment, before you caught yourself, it was only him that you sang to and only him that you saw.

“Please, please can I?” P begged her mother to go and see Rapunzel but after the breathtaking performance she had been in a mood and withdrew her hand from her daughter’s. 

“No, your cake is going to be coming out in a moment - I need to be here to show them where to put it.”

Tears welled along the four year old’s eyes and her bottom lip trembled before Max stepped in. “How about I take her?”

He had been watching the stage entrance for any sign of movement since her song had ended and it was hard to hide the disappointment when she didn’t return for another. He could still hear her voice and was busy committing it to memory in the hopes he could use the sweet, melodic sound to calm his racing mind when he lay awake alone at night.

Max couldn’t explain how utterly obsessed he had become or how he wished he knew what delicate perfume it was he had inhaled when she touched his face. He ran his hand along his jawline, following where her fingers had been under the guise of a scratch, and he was glad he had tidied his beard up for the event.

“Of course you would offer that,” Kelly bit back, pulling him from his thoughts as his hand fell away from his face. “Whatever, do as you want.”

Penelope understood the permission but missed the sarcasm and Max sighed to himself as he took P’s hand and made their way to the curtains that hid the makeshift backstage area.

“Rapunzel!” P squealed as she rushed forward, towing Max to keep up until she barrelled into the princesses legs and wrapped her arms around them. “I love you.”

You had almost begun to pull your wig off when you heard a little girl call out. You turned just in time to catch her as she grappled you into a hug and you laughed softly as you tucked her hair back behind her ear to see the flower you had given her.

“Aren’t you the sweetest little girl,” you giggled as you knelt down to her height and took in the sight of the man who followed her, his hands tucking into his dress pants. You drowned in the eyes that had held you captivated before tearing yours away and swallowing the disappointment that had crept up your throat. “I hope you are having the most magical birthday with your father.”

The birthday girl looked up at him with a laugh. “This is my Maxie.”

You tried to hide your confusion but he obviously saw it as he scratched the back of his neck, the material of the shirt he wore straining as his biceps tensed.

“Uh, I am, was, her step-dad,” he corrected as he gave the girl a small sad smile before offering his hand to you. “It’s just Max, or you can call me Maxie too, I guess, if you want.”

You smiled in amusement as you shook his hand, the touch lingering a little longer as neither of you made an effort to pull away.

“I’m Rapunzel,” you said as your eyes darted to Penelope.

“Right,” he chuckled and let his hand fall back to his side as he looked at her too. “Your cake might be waiting for you, P. Do you want to go check?”

“Can you come?” she asked you with big round eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but Eugene has probably got himself into trouble without me, so I should really be going. But I must thank you, it was an absolute delight to celebrate your birthday with you. I love getting to spend time with a fellow princess.” You swung your braid over your shoulder and the sweet scent of the fresh flowers filled the air. “You can have as many as you like.”

It took all your concentration not to look at Max when that was what you really wanted to do, especially when he knelt beside you and helped Penelope to choose which flowers to take. His arm brushed against yours and you nearly lost your balance from the deep breath you took of his mouth watering cologne.

Eventually she was happy with the dozen bright blossoms she cradled in her arms and thanked you before rushing to take them back to her mother. “Come on, Maxie!” she called without looking back to see if he was following.

He rose with a sigh and you hissed as your head was tugged sharply by the pins. “Shit, sorry,” he murmured as he saw his watch had got caught in the braid. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, it actually happens more often than you would think.” You rubbed the back of your head where the pain was worst and double checked the birthday girl was gone. “I’m Y/N.”

He repeated it with a smile as he slipped the watch off his wrist to use both hands to untangle it from the golden threads. “Would you let me take you to dinner to apologise properly?”

If you were wearing your microphone it probably would have picked up the sound of your heart from how quickly it started pumping. There was no denying this attraction between you and you could see he was equally affected by it too.

“No, I told you it’s alright,” you started, taking his hand when his shoulder slumped crestfallen. “But, you can buy me dinner if you want to make it a date?”

A bright smile broke across his face and you couldn’t help smiling back knowing it was because of you. “Tonight?”

You nodded as you reached into the hidden pocket in the dress and passed him your phone to enter his number before he sent himself a message to get yours. “You might not recognise me without all this,” you joked as you started to pull the pins out of the wig and freed your natural hair.

He chuckled and shook his head as he found you even more beautiful than before. “There’s no mistaking those eyes, I would recognise them anywhere.”

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 16: Angst-Themed (Saturday Sentence Starters)

wc: 1k | Rated: T | cw: Steve’s parents are arguing (he is overhearing it briefly but there are some descriptions of yelling), toxic family dynamics, unstable marriage, cheating

Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unstable Marriage, Toxic Family Dynamics, Cheating

“I don’t want to fight with you, Caroline,” Steve hears his father bellow from downstairs, “Not tonight.”

He snaps his comic closed and tosses it on the floor.

Steve has no idea what his parents are arguing about. Hell, they don’t even need an excuse these days, he thinks. Someone can so much as fart and it will start a goddamn screaming match.

He guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the holidays and his parents are both off work until the beginning of the New Year. It’s snowing heavy out so they can’t go down to the Martens’ house – their best friends-come-buffer zones.

“Oh, John!” his mother chides before there is a lower muffle that he can’t quite make out.

While being hard of hearing allows him not to hear anything below a shout, the broken argument is still frustrating.

His parents might not need an excuse to fight, but he’d still like to know what it’s about. Gain intel for the inevitable coming days of being stuck in the middle.

Steve has a few guesses as to what it could be.

His mother bought a new car with her Christmas bonus finally topping up her bank account and thus justifying an indulgent and expensive purchase. His father always hates that.

Steve smirks.

If his father didn’t like that kind of independence, why did he marry a high-paid lawyer?

But, the more likely scenario considering his father’s apparent insistence he ‘doesn’t want to fight’ is that he is cheating again.

Cindy, his secretary, or someone new – take your pick.

The telltale signs have been there for a month or two. A renewed cheery attitude, longer office hours, a fresh haircut and new clothes.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it might be a little bit of a motivator behind his mother’s car purchase too – 

“ – Cindy!” his mother shrieks.

Yep, there it is.

Steve rolls off the bed, planting his feet on the carpet right by his shoes.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, scooping up his keys and wallet from the nightstand.

He’s just about halfway to Forest Hills, driving at a snail’s pace because he can’t see for snow, when he begins to regret his decision to leave the house.

Maybe he shouldn’t just barge in on the Munsons unannounced. Like sure, his friendship with Eddie is… teetering on not being entirely platonic. But this might be too much.

He always thought it was too much when he’d walk down to stay at Carol Perkins’ house for an impromptu sleepover. And there was always this awkward, knowing going on with the Wheeler’s when he was dating Nancy and spending a lot of time just hanging about.

Lingering for too long in the kitchen chatting to Karen or watching a game with Ted until the guy started snoring too loud to hear the commentators.

It was all there but largely unspoken.

Only Robin knows the details. And even then, he’s sure that her father’s friendliness towards him was partly due to his daughter telling him all about the trouble at the ‘ol Harrington house. He doesn’t blame his best friend for likely doing so. And he doesn’t consider it blabbing, either. Robin’s parents – her whole family – are amazing.

But some of his parent’s shit is stupid at best, hard to take at worst.

And he is scared to let Eddie in on it.

It’s too much.

He’s too much.

Being a Harrington is too much.

Wayne answers the door with a cup of cocoa that seems glued to his left hand in winter.

“Steve,” he says, voice gruff as ever despite a warm smile.

“Hi,” he replies, looking down at his snow-covered boots, “Eddie in?”

Of course, he’s in, his van is parked outside.

Steve can feel the warmth from inside the trailer. See the twinkle of lights from the Munson’s small, but heavily-decorated, Christmas tree. The smell of cocoa overpowering the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

“Eddie!” Wayne calls over his shoulder, “Steve’s here.”

In a flash, Eddie runs to the front door and practically bumps into his uncle.

“Come in!” he insists, wide-eyed as he looks past his shoulder at the falling snow.

And before Steve can even step in, Eddie is pulling him by his parka sleeve. He only just manages to scrape off his boots on the ‘Home Sweet Home’ adorned welcome mat.

“What some cocoa?” Eddie offers, eliciting a grumble from Wayne.

“I asked if you wanted some,” he chides.

“But Steve might want some,” Eddie grins.

“How about I heat up a pot now, and whoever wants some’s got it?” Wayne suggests, pursing his lips at Eddie and moving to the stove before his nephew can make any more requests.

“Follow me,” Eddie says, grabbing his hand, “I made cookies.”

He wiggles his brows and begins leading Steve to the kitchen.

As he is pulled along, Steve tries not to think about the fact that they are holding hands. Or how he wishes his fifteen-minute-ago Self had thought to bring an overnight bag and allowed himself to assume the Munsons would allow him to stay the night.

But it might be even harder to stop himself from squeezing his friend’s hand and lacing his fingers with Eddie’s.

Eddie lets go of his hand to gesture to the tray of Christmas-themed shapes, all looking a little too dark for gingerbread as they rest on the kitchen island.

“Pick one, Big Boy,” Eddie beams.

Steve reaches for a reindeer, flexing his fingers as he goes and commits the feeling of Eddie’s rings to memory.

“No!” Eddie shrieks, lightly smacking his hand enough that he drops it, leaving the cookie to snap in half as it falls back onto the tray, “His antlers are broken.”

“Christ, boy!” Wayne curses, stirring the pot on the stovetop.

Okay, a tree then…

“The star is missing!”

A bell?

“That was already snapped in half when I got them out of the oven”, Eddie admits with a tight-lipped smile.

Steve places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. To him, they all look at least a little crumbly – some he would even describe as lightly charred.

“How about you pick one for me then, Betty Crocker?” he chuckles.

Eddie giggles, twirling a lock of his hair as he carefully considers the tray of mostly broken, dry cookies.

He watches Eddie for a long enough time that Wayne pushes a mug into his hand, the warmth of Eddie’s hand remaining in place due to the heat of the cocoa. It’s a Chicago Cubs mug, one that he finds himself holding at some point each time he is here as if Wayne considers it Steve’s own.

He smiles for the first time in three days.

[sylustful]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Even the Devil Can Worship on Sunday.

“just because you’re stronger doesn’t mean you stand above the weak.”

mornings with Sylus was something you never dreamed of, but now he’s here, vulnerable and soft. lying next to you in a bed that you both made love in many times. it’s almost like a dream…

➳ TAGS: 16+ (suggestive because Sylus is a pervert), fluff, slight angst, lazy Sundays, heavy talks on emotions and how to feel them, reader has a small panic attack.

➳ MIKI’S NOTES: it’s Sunday here in Japan, so i wanted to post this. sorry if it’s Saturday where you are. i think it’s funny that my first post here was hardcore smut and here i am, writing about domestic times with Sylus. i guess it’s because i want to explore softer moments with him. i imagined him as someone who has suppressed his emotions for the sake of his work, which made him emotionally constipated and not understand his feelings for mc/reader. anyway, hope you enjoy! if you like my work, please follow or dm me for Sylus fic ideas!

WORD COUNT: 2660

love is tender. love is kind. love is… it’s something. it’s a feeling, but it’s also a person, but it can be an animal. love is something that cannot be changed or undone; it’s an immovable force that barrels through people’s lives and into their hearts. love is something you cannot control, but God… does it hurt. love is painful. love is ruining. love is a stab wound to the heart while also being a gunshot to the brain. how can someone be so handsome yet so stupid at the same time? you constantly argue with yourself on whether or not you want to kiss him or punch him, but at the end of the day… it’s him you come home to - even if technically, you’re not even supposed to be in contact with this guy. love with him is dangerous and all-consuming, love with him is fluffy and dazzling, love with him is… different. it’s an exciting and nauseating different. Sylus is wild and crazy and batshit insane, but he’s also romantic and comforting and honest. Sylus will tell you that you look like a bitch in that dress, but he’ll also tell you that you look way hotter in red. you laugh with him, you argue with him, you live life with him in ways that you never thought were possible.

but God… does he give you the world. just by lying here in this bed with you, he gives you all you want and more. the tousled strands of snow that you can easily comb your fingers though; to his tight, pale skin and large nose. you giggle as you boop it and continue tracing around his face with your fingertips. his almond-shaped eyes that sparkle ruby red and give his enemies a sense of dread. Sylus keeps his hair. keeping his facial hair meticulously shaved and pruned, but sometimes you wonder what he would look like with a beard or mustache, chuckling at the thought. the closest you got to anything was tiny peach fuzz on his jaw that he was super embarrassed about, smacking your hand away and rubbing the rough skin. even with his armpits and chest hair and legs, he’s not okay with having, thinking it feels weird on his clothes and is not attractive during sex. you don’t mind, actually liking easier access to feel his warm skin under your palms and the thumping of his heart. your breath catches in your throat when your fingers brush lightly over his lips, outlining the heart-shaped curve of his upper lip and flatline of his bottom.

but he’s dangerous. he’s the crime boss of Onychinus. you know that this sweet dream won’t last, that you won’t be able to wake up in bed like this next to him. you won’t be able to smell the scent of cigarettes and wine anymore. or feel the weight he has in your bed or his. you’ll just go back to your normal, everyday, hunter life. normal missions fighting wanderers and saving people. a part of you feels terrible for even thinking about not wanting to go back to that life. like something must be wrong with your for wanting to stay living dangerously with the most feared man in Linkon. you don’t even know his end goal or what he wants with you, never answering your questions on payment. he must be playing with you, you think - toying with your emotions and stringing you along only to toss you aside and betray you. your heart squeezes at the thought and fears plague your mind. does he even like you? does he even lov- no. don’t say that word. you shake your head, not even giving him the opportunity to plant that thought in your head. this is a transactional thing. yeah! just… just a give and take… of sorts.

but God… does he give you the world. just by lying here in this bed with you, he gives you all you want and more. the tousled strands of snow that you can easily comb your fingers though; to his tight, pale skin and large nose. you giggle as you boop it and continue tracing around his face with your fingertips. his almond-shaped eyes that sparkle ruby red and give his enemies a sense of dread. Sylus keeps his hair. keeping his facial hair meticulously shaved and pruned, but sometimes you wonder what he would look like with a beard or mustache, chuckling at the thought. the closest you got to anything was tiny peach fuzz on his jaw that he was super embarrassed about, smacking your hand away and rubbing the rough skin. even with his armpits and chest hair and legs, he’s not okay with having, thinking it feels weird on his clothes and is not attractive during sex. you don’t mind, actually liking easier access to feel his warm skin under your palms and the thumping of his heart. your breath catches in your throat when your fingers brush lightly over his lips, outlining the heart-shaped curve of his upper lip and flatline of his bottom.

these lips have been on every square inch of your body. the lips have spoken words that erupt butterflies in your stomach. the lips have made you cross the peak of pleasure so many times, your mind fizzles into a puddle. but these lips seal secrets, barricading valuable information behind the vault of his mind and security of his heart. ‘vulnerability is for the weak’ he tells you, and you know it is. vulnerability brings comfort, comfort brings openness, openness brings betrayal - because humans are selfish. sometimes you just want to bash his skull in just to see inside his brain and watch the wheels turn, observe the step by step process of each and every decision he makes. because when you look at Sylus, it’s like facing an unbelievably high brick wall, most of the time. that there’s something in between you that blocks you from seeing anything beneath the surface that is his cold gaze and infuriating nicknames. you want to see him. you want to listen to him. you want to feel him. but you know it won’t ever happen.

“you never stop thinking, do you, Kitten?”

his raspy and deep morning voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you stare at him with bewilderment. that carmine gaze staring daggers into your skin and piercing your heart underneath, leaving you bleeding and open. Sylus always had a way of seeing through you, knowing every move you make as if he were omniscient or something. he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair out of your face before twirling it between his fingers, his gaze following his action.

“i was thinking about how ugly you look when you sleep,” you retort, but your words don’t hold the same bite as they used to.

Sylus chuckles, pulling the strand of hair to his lips and kissing them softly. “what’s with the hostility this early in the morning?” he asks, yanking your hair and you wince.

this is one of those times where you don’t like Sylus, thank God.

you smack his hand away and take your hair back, flattening it with your hand and glaring at him. “you’re very easy to be hostile towards.”

“i’m also someone who’s very easy to feel aroused by,” he replies confidently, his hand moving to your ass and pulling you closer. “or was last night one of many mistakes you admit.”

as much as you like to say that every night you spend with Sylus is a mistake, your leg hooking over his and your hand on his chest says otherwise. “you always drag me to wherever whenever you’re horny, not me.”

“and yet, you never tell me no and actually mean it,” he argued, his fingers lazily going up and down your back, causing you to shiver.

you want to tell him no, that it isn’t true. you want to push Sylus away and go back to your normal life. just like how much you want to get out of this bed and his embrace. but this man has ruined you in more ways than one. he’s the devil who tempted you with the most dangerous fruit of all. but… you suppose even the Devil can worship on Sundays.

“you already know that if you were anyone else, this wouldn’t be happening,” you tell him, gesturing between the two of you with your finger.

Sylus takes your hand, taking a quick glance between you and your hand before biting the side of it. “i’m very honored to be awarded this special title then,” he thanks you sarcastically, rubbing the bite mark with his thumb.

you try to pull your hand away from his grip but he just pulls you closer to him, your bare core pressing against his thigh, your eyes blown wide. “Sy- wait- let me put my clothes-“

“it wouldn’t make sense to put them on just for me to take them off again,” he says with a groan, nuzzling his face into your neck. “just cuddle with me for a little bit, Princess.”

he says its cuddling, but you can feel his hands on your hips rocking you back and forth on his thigh, and you bite your lip to suppress a moan. Sylus never was interested in sex or intimacy at all when you first met him, despite all of his crude jokes and half-ass attempts at flirting with you. but now that you’ve gotten more used to each other, he’s like some insatiable rabbit that pounces on you every chance he gets. under all that hard and rough exterior, is an incubus coming for your body and soul. in the mornings, it’s either him eating you out until your sheets soak and missionary; afternoons, it’s spent bent over the counter or island when making lunch; and so on. and don’t even get started on this man at night; people would be sent into a coma with how much stamina this man has.

“Sylus, i have to attend a meeting later today,” you try to tell him, repeating yourself from last night before he ravaged you. you put your hands on his triceps. “you know this.”

“and i’ll drop you off when the time comes,” he argued back at you, looking back up to you with a scowl. “what the fuck is up with you? you usually don’t care when we do this.”

you bite your lip, looking down at his chest. he was right. you didn’t care when he would pleasure you like this; in fact, you craved it, expected it from him almost. you loved it when his hands graced your skin and molded it beneath his palms and worshiped you to the heavens above. you just wondered, if at any point, it could grow into something more than just a give and take. that maybe you could just live at Sylus’s mansion rather than sneaking off to it like some criminal. you knew the N109-Zone was dangerous, that every trip was a gamble no matter how many times Sylus told you it was safe. fuck, would you even live in the N109-Zone? do you even want to be a hunter anymore? this was your dream! why can’t you just be normal?!

“hey! hey!” Sylus calls out to you, holding your face, forcing you to look at him. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”

you stare at him, feeling the wetness of tears on your cheeks and soaking the pillow. the two of you look at each other for what seemed like an eternity, the only sound being the fan circling on the ceiling and slight ruffles of the sheets. not even your breaths could be heard, yet they spun in tendrils and connected in the sky, dissipating into the air. you couldn’t deny it anymore, you realized - you were in love with Sylus. irrevocably, impossibly, and mindlessly in love with the worst criminal imaginable. and you think Sylus knows it too, with the way his hands hold your face as if you were a delicate cherry blossom that just bloomed during spring. he rubs your cheeks with his thumbs, reaching up to wipe your tears away and leaning into you, resting your foreheads together. the silence between you two is a heavy one, one filled with a new-found tension; a line now drawn in the sand that both of you have to decide on whether or not it should be crossed. Sylus’s breath shudders when he looks at you, his eyes searching through your gaze for any indication on your thoughts and you realize that he doesn’t actually know that much about you as much as you don’t know about him, just picking up on patterns in your behavior. you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out, just more tears falling down your cheeks.

“i love you…” you barely manage to whisper, keeping your gaze steady when you look at Sylus. “but i don’t want to love you.”

his expression hardens at your words and he stays silent for a while, looking down. you begin to regret confessing and open your mouth to backtrack and lie to him, but he shakes his head, and you still.

“i know,” he says, his voice still a little raspy as he licks his lips, clearing his throat. “i know that… that what this is- is…”

is what? you think. what is this? you want to ask him, but you stay quiet, letting him find his words. he lets go of your face, turning to lie on his back and you move away from him, giving him space to breathe and think. you stare at him with expectancy, curious at this new side of Sylus you’ve never seen before.

he lets out an annoyed huff, tousling his already messy hair. “i don’t know how to feel about you,” he admits slowly, his hand flopping to his side of the bed. “i don’t know how to feel about this or us or why i’m even doing anything with you.”

“i just… want to spend time with you, and it feels good seeing you when i wake up and it feels good having sex with you, and it feels good when you drag me out to do random things with you,” he finished, turning to you, his cheeks and ears tinted pink with embarrassment. “and it feels good when you tell me you are… honest with your feelings.”

you feel like crying at this point. not really sure from sadness or happiness, but most likely both. he doesn’t know if he loves you, but he loves everything about you. isn’t this love? wanting to be with your special person all the time, intimate or otherwise? to find them annoying but still go along with whatever they desire because it’s their feelings you care about the most? you snort, a full-hearted belly laugh spilling out of you as you sit up, trying to contain your laughter. Sylus sits up with you, glaring at your chest rising and falling with happiness and looking away.

“this is why i didn’t want to say anything,” he mutters gruffly, throwing a soft punch at your shoulder. “weakness is the worst thing in the world.”

you immediately shut up and turn back to him, holding his cheek to turn him back to you. “it’s not!” you tell him, voice full of determination. “weakness is the best thing because of the strength we gain from others.”

he stares at you, dumbfounded by your words and furrows his eyebrows, clearly not understanding what you’re saying. you giggle again, leaning in and kissing his lips softly, pulling away to smile at him.

“i mean that you are stronger when you know that being vulnerable isn’t inherently bad,” you explain, lying you both back down on the bed as you stroke Sylus’s cheek with your fingers. “of course, being physically weak is bad, but it’s okay to be honest and open with how you feel, it doesn’t make you weak.”

Sylus takes a few moments to think about your words, his gaze searching and lost. he always knew that vulnerability isn’t bad, that bottling up your emotions and pent up energy isn’t good for you. he knows this. but… does he? Sylus doesn’t even remember the last time he spoke about his emotions like this, always finding a release in a shooting range or boxing. whenever he would get pissed off, he would just deal with the problem directly, or deal with it by himself. when he was with you, he could feel layers upon layers of himself falling apart at your delicate touch and warming words. ‘it’s okay,’ he feels as though you’ve whispered to him countless times. ‘you can feel however you want to feel and it’s okay to feel it.’

Sylus could only laugh too, now understanding why you laughed earlier, pulling you into a hug and sighing. “i… feel the same way as you, little dove.”

you smile, hugging him back and nuzzling into his chest. it’s okay if he doesn’t want to say the word yet, just as long as he knows. “okay…”

[justallihere]

some fluff for your saturday 🫶🏻

***

Xaden’s favorite time was the middle of the night, when his wife slept peacefully and he got to hold his daughter and watch the snow falling.

Fia, like her mother, liked the library. Xaden was sure it was the floating mage lights that kept her attention—at seven months old, she certainly couldn’t read—but it was the place that calmed her the quickest when she wouldn’t sleep. He liked to think it was something she’d gotten from Violet.

Fia looked like him: his warm brown skin, his dark hair and dark eyes, his mouth. But she had Violet in the shape of her nose, the fullness of her cheeks. She was calm and quiet like Violet, attentive and curious, even just beginning to sit up and grab for anything within reach. She liked Xaden’s wedding ring, liked the texture of Violet’s dragon scale corset. She liked looking at the dragons: she would sit and stare at Andarna for hours if Xaden let her, endlessly fascinated by her shifting scales as Andarna stretched her wings in the sun.

She was an easy baby for the most part, but Violet’s pregnancy had been hard.

They’d assumed it would be, but she’d been in pain almost constantly—aching joints and swollen feet and hands. By the second half, she spent more time in bed than out of it, barely sleeping due to the pain. Thanks to Brennan and the best midwife in Tyrrendor, the birth had been smooth, though long; Violet labored for over a day before Fia joined them. Then she’d spent more weeks recovering, Fia sleeping on her chest as Violet read to her.

It was why Xaden always got up in the night when Fia woke. Violet would have done it gladly, he knew that, but she’d given so much to bring Fia into the world while he’d only been able to watch. Rocking her back to sleep once or twice a week was the least he could do. Violet protested, and he ignored her. Sometimes she’d come find them, but more often than not she slept on comfortably and didn’t wake until Xaden joined her in bed again.

“What do you think?” Xaden murmured to Fia, stopping in front of a window and turning her around so she could look outside. She pressed a chubby little hand to the glass and cooed. “How long are we gonna be awake tonight?”

Fia babbled unintelligibly. Once the window had lost her attention, he shifted her in his arms so her head could rest against his shoulder, and she lay limply against his chest. He rubbed a broad hand up and down her back, marveling, not for the first time, at how tiny she was. How easily she fit into his arms. He never wanted to let her go.

Violet protested that it was bad for Fia to be held constantly. She needed to move and look and engage with the world around her. Xaden argued that she’d have years to do those things, and he only had a few months to hold her like this. That usually made Violet soften, and she got that tender expression on her face that he never tired of because it reminded him that she loved him just as much as he loved her.

He walked half a dozen laps around the library, humming under his breath. Fia settled slowly as he rocked her, bouncing her lightly in the way she liked and stroking along her spine. He felt her little form go entirely limp, finally asleep; her head tipped to press against his neck, her breath against his skin, the beat of her heart against his own. He could go put her back to bed, but he didn’t stop walking.

Just a little longer, he decided. Just a few more minutes holding her.

“I think she’s drooling on you,” a voice whispered, breaking through the still serenity of the library.

Xaden turned and found Violet leaning against a shelf, watching him with a soft look on her face.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Xaden murmured.

She smiled sleepily. She was in a nightgown and thin robe, barefoot with her hair loose and tangled, like she’d woken and hadn’t wanted to be alone. “Come here,” she said quietly.

Xaden went. He held Fia with one arm, and reached out with the other to take Violet’s hand. She fit her fingers into the spaces between his and stepped in close, resting her head against his chest next to their daughter. She stretched on her toes to brush a fleeting kiss against Fia’s soft cheek, and then titled her face up to Xaden expectantly.

He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and finally pressed his mouth to hers. “I love you,” he murmured.

Violet’s eyes fell shut, contentment written in every line of her expression. “I love you, too.”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ 1

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1,235ish

Summary: You discover your mutation. You get recruited for a team.

Warnings: death, gun shots, fire, homelessness, nakedness

Notes: Surprise! I couldn't wait until Saturday. Besides, this is more of a prologue chapter than anything. Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don't ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! Also, help me decide the endings!

It was snowing, but that didn’t matter. Your insides were burning up to the point that you couldn’t stop sweating, soaking through your clothes. There was practically a puddle of sweat beneath you as you pushed yourself further into the corner of your closet.

Your parents were downstairs, having a screaming match. It was their fifth one today. They had been too occupied with their own drama to even notice what was going on with you. A tremor had started in your hands as your fingertips began faintly glowing orange. You placed your hand against the wooden door as you heard the fighting die down. The silence was eery and before you knew it, a gun was going off. You rushed down the stairs, failing to notice the trail of fire being left behind.

Your father was standing above your mother, gun still pointed at her. Your mother was lying on the ground with a bullet in her forehead.

“Go back upstairs, Y/N,” your father demanded, not sparing you a single glance.

“What did you do?” You frantically cried.

“What she had coming,” your father responded. “She wasn’t like us, Y/N. She was— is that smoke?” Your father looked over to see the stairs in flames. “We’ve got to get out of here.” When your father grabbed your arm, only to quickly let it go when his skin burned. “You… You did this!” He pointed the gun at you. “You’re a monster just like her!”

“I— I’m sorry, Dad! I don’t know what’s happening!”

“I do, monster.”

Your father pulled the trigger and your arm came up to try to protect you. Fire shot out of your hand, landing on your father. He screamed out as the fire quickly spread over him. You cried as you watched your father stumble back into the fire engulfing the stairs. 

Yells and screams began cutting through the growing flames as the neighbors gathered outside. Realizing how this could look, you hurried out the back and continued running. What had you done?

~~~

It didn’t take you long to figure out that you had powers of some kind in the form of fire. Now living on the streets, you used your power to keep alive. You discovered your second ability when another homeless person went after you with a knife, cutting your arm. It healed, simply leaving a scar, after a few hours. It was 1965 and you had just turned 35 when you realized that you had stopped aging years ago. This forced you to move around more to keep from being caught.

Coming back from a heist with your bag full, you entered the alley that you were currently calling home. With a slight twitch of your fingers, you lit the trash in the nearby barrel to warm up the alley and provide some light.

“Some power you got there.”

You jumped at the voice, immediately forming flames in your hands. A man stepped out of the shadows, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“Major William Stryker and you are Y/N L/N.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve been following you for quite some time.” He sat on a cart next to the barrel. “Tell me, did you mean to start that fire? Or was it a product of what happened to your mother?”

You grit your teeth. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I know things. Like what you are.”

“And?”

“You’re a mutant and someone special. I would like you to come with me. You’ll get training in your abilities and other skills. We could use you on the team I’m putting together.” He could tell you were considering it. “I know that you’ve been on your own and homeless for far too long. You would never have to worry about food, clothes, or a bed again. Not if you’re with me.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t. You’ll just have to come and see.”

You thought about it. This could be your chance to do something more. To learn about your powers and grow them in ways you didn’t think possible. The promise of the basic necessities was also night.

But there was also a chance that the man in front of you was trying to trick you. Taking a breath, you made a decision.

“I’ll go with you.”

~~~

Though the training was hard and the tests they constantly ran on your powers were draining, you never complained. Stryker had held up his end of the promise, providing you with food, clothes, and a place to sleep. He kept talking about his dreams for the team he was putting together and other mutants soon joined.

First, there was Fred Dukes, who possessed super strength and invulnerability. Next, John Wraith, a teleporter, and Chris Bradley or Bolt, who could control electricity. Agent Zero was next as an expert marksman with Wade Wilson, a swordsman who could never shut up, quickly following.

The six of you made an odd bunch and went out on regular missions for Stryker. You never fully understood what the point of these missions where, but you went on them anyway.

“Wade, I will melt those blades if you poke me one more time.”

The team had a day off, meaning that you were stuck in Stryker’s facility for the team until you were needed. The others had decided to plan a game of poker while you decided to read, with Wade choosing to annoy you.

“Where does the fire live?” Wade asked. “Like, is there an ember constantly lit inside of you? And why isn’t your skin hot?”

“Wade…”

“I’m just curious!” He threw his hands up. “Like how does the fire work? Do you— Hey!” Wade’s clothes burned off of him, leaving him naked. “If you wanted to fuck, you could have just asked.”

“Ew,” you cringed, moving away from him.

“Wilson!” John shouted. “Get some clothes on!”

“Why? You jealous?” Wade retorted with a smirk. He stood up and walked over to where the others were sitting. “Take a good look, boys. Take a look and wish you had this body.”

“Wilson!” Stryker exclaimed as he entered the room, with two other men trailing behind him. “Get your clothes on! We have new recruits.”

“Yes, sir,” Wade mock saluted before walking off.

You peeked over your book to get a look at them. Both of the men were muscular and clearly had their walls up. The one with shorter hair seemed more menacing than the man next to him. The man next to him caught your attention more. More emotions were swirling in his eyes. His hair was long, dark, and thick with mutton chops covering his cheeks.

“Sorry, gentlemen,” Stryker apologized. “That was Wade Wilson.” You stood up as Stryker introduced the other members of the team before ending with you. “And this is Y/N L/N.”

“A woman is on this team?” The menacing one scoffed. “No wonder you brought us in.”

“Don’t doubt, Y/N. Her ability to control fire can do more damage than your claws.”

“And you two are?” You questioned, getting annoyed again.

“This is my brother Victor Creed,” the other man introduced. He held out his hand to you. “I’m James. James Logan Howlett.”

You shook his hand briefly. “Nice to meet you, James. Welcome to the team.”

next chapter >

[strangersteddierthings]

Hey @rustypeopleskillz! I had a lot of fun writing a Jealous!Steve fic, especially since he didn't really understand why he was jealous. I hope you like it!

Here's a little worldbuilding. This takes place in the summer of '87. Jonathan, Nancy and Robin are all in college but have returned to Hawkins for the summer. Argyle has come to visit, too. Robin has resumed her position at Family Video as a summer job.

Written for the @steddiesummerexchange.

-

June 12, 1987

It’s already hot this early in June, and Steve is grateful for the working AC at Family Video. And speaking of Family Video, that reminds Steve.

"You coming over for movies tomorrow?" Steve asks, even though he knows the answer. It's more a formality at this point. They have movie night pretty regularly, Eddie, Robin and himself, now that Robin’s back in town from college. Occasionally they’ll be joined by others, the kids or Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle (always together when they join) but movie night always includes himself, Robin and Eddie.

"Oh, uh, no," Eddie answers, sounding just as surprised by his answer as Steve feels.

"What? Why?" Steve's questions come out accusatory. Eddie's always free for movie night. Hellfire is on Sundays now, and Corroded Coffin meets on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Friday nights have been saved for Steve. Or, well, not Steve but for movie night!

“What are you, the police?” Eddie snorts. He doesn’t answer the questions.

Before Steve can comment on that avoidance, a quiet voice calls out an ‘excuse me’ and Steve has to turn to the register to get back to work. From the corner of his eye, he watches Eddie push off the counter and head towards the back corner of Family Video, where Robin is currently shelving the last of the returns.

The quiet voice that interrupted belongs to a kid, probably Holly’s age, wanting to rent Snow White. Easy enough to ring up, and soon enough the kid’s out the door, heading towards the car parked directly in front of the doors. Steve looks back over his shoulder in the direction Eddie’d gone. Neither he or Robin is visible, so they’re probably caught up in conversation.

Good. Gives Steve some time to think about why he was going to give Eddie the third degree about not making it to movie night. There have been a few times that Eddie didn’t come to movie night before; it’s not like this is the first time it’s happened. All those other times, though, Eddie had told him why. Eddie doesn’t owe him a why, and really Steve has no reason to demand one of him. Steve’s not his keeper.

It just… rubs Steve the wrong way. He doesn’t know why.

When Eddie and Robin rejoin him at the counter, Steve doesn’t bring up movie night again. It’ll still be fun with just Robin. It’s Robin! How can he not have fun with she’s around?

Eddie stays around another half hour before he says he has to go. Once Eddie is backing out of the parking spot, he whips to Robin to ask, “You’re still coming to movie night, right?”

“Duh,” Robin says, looking up from the stack of returns she’s been pretending to process, “unless I’ve got a hot date, and that’s not happening anytime soon, why would I miss it?”

“It could happen, if you’d shoot your shot wi-”

“No. Nope. Not today!” Robin cuts him off with a glare.

He lifts his hands to show he’s defenseless and drops that particular subject for a moment. He’ll have the whole movie night to harass her about her crushes. “Okay, alright. Touchy.”

“Oh, like you were with Eddie about movie night?”

“What, did he immediately go tattle on me!?” Steve says, scandalized. There’s no loyalty here.

“No, but I did hear your immediate grilling of Eddie. You weren’t exactly whispering, and this place is, like, the size of your living room-”

“It is not.”

“-so, no. Eddie did not tattle. He did, however, share what happened the second I asked ‘what was that all about’, so do with that what you will.”

“Oh,” Steve frowns. “Well, did Eddie tell you why he’s not coming?”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to the returns. “No. I didn’t ask because I am not particularly bothered that he can’t make it to one movie night.”

Steve frowns harder. He’s not bothered. Why would he be bothered that Eddie has something else he has to do? Steve’s not his keeper. It’s fine.

Except for how Steve can’t shake the feeling that it’s not fine. He feels some sort of way about it but can’t name it. Definitely a negative feeling of some kind. Maybe worry? Sadness? He’s not sure, but he doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t bring it up the rest of their shift, though, because he knows Robin will ask why this is bothering him so much and Steve won’t have an answer.

June 16, 1987

Steve doesn’t see Eddie again for four days, which Steve thought wasn’t unusual for them. They aren’t attached at the hip friends. That privelege is reserved for Robin. Except now that Steve is thinking about it, he realizes that the only person he sees on the regular besides Robin is Eddie.

Eddie usually comes and spends a majority of his afternoons at Family Video, or he’s hanging out with Steve and Robin at Steve’s house, or inviting them to his for hangouts. Steve and Eddie even hang out alone often enough. Steve will crash at his place after a late night smoke sesh or Eddie will stay with him when the nightmares get too much to deal with alone.

Now that he’s realized how much of his time was taken up with Eddie, he notices how absent Eddie’s been. He can’t even talk about this with Robin because he doesn’t get why he even wants to talk about it! Why it matters so much.

Even back when Steve’s best friends were Tommy and Carol, he’s never felt like this after not seeing either of them for days at a time, and they used to be as attached to each other as he is with Robin now. He doesn’t know what that says about him. Was his friendship with them really that shallow? Or is his friendship with Eddie just that deep?

That seems like the right idea. Eddie went through hell with him and the kids, died for them, and Steve brought him back. It’s not that his previous friendships were shallow, they just weren’t forged the same way.

So, it takes four days for Steve to see Eddie again, and it’s because Steve seeks him out. He couldn’t just pop in, though, because he’s overthought this too much. Even though no one but himself knows the thoughts Steve’s been having, he still feels an embarrassment for them. Which is stupid, he knows, but it doesn’t stop the feeling.

Four days he waits before deciding to check in on Max. See how she’s doing, if she needs a lift to the grocery store or something. A habit formed because her mom is trying to be better, has been since Max was hospitalized, but Susan’s still working two jobs and it doesn’t leave a lot of time to get to the store during the hours it’s open. Steve offered to take Max once, and now it’s an unspoken agreement.

Before knocking on Max’s door, though, he looks down the road to make sure Eddie’s van is parked in its usual spot and it is.

He checks on Max, knowing she doesn’t need anything because Susan did have time to get to the grocery store this week. He knows because he ran into her there yesterday, and thought up this whole convoluted excuse so he can check in on Eddie without seeming like that’s what he’s doing.

Steve is not proud about this. That embarrassed feeling ever present, even now that he’s checked on Max and been quickly shooed away because El is over and they’re having a girls day.

Maybe he should talk to Robin about this. Why is he embarrassed by missing Eddie?

The thought causes him to skip a step as he heads down the road to the Munsons’ new place, which is up the road in the opposite direction of the old Munson trailer from Max’s home.

Oh. He’s missed Eddie, and he’s embarrassed that he’s missed him. Why hadn’t he known that until now?

He really is going to need to talk to Robin after this.

The Munson’s are still in the process of building the porch for this new trailer; it’s just a frame that stretches from the stairs to the end of trailer. It looks like they’re doing everything they can to make this place look like their old one. Or, maybe, they just really like having a porch.

He should ask Wayne if he wants help finishing it next time he sees him.

Steve knocks on the door with three quick raps and doesn’t have to wait long.

The door swings open to reveal Eddie. His hair is pulled up off his neck, which is a familiar look on Eddie by now with the hot Indiana summer.

“Oh!” Eddie looks surprised. “Hey Steve. What brings you here?”

“I was just checking in on Max, and saw your van was here. Thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side and studies Steve for a moment. “Well, if you don’t have anywhere else to be, you wanna hang out for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, possibly to quickly. “I mean, I got time.”

Eddie grins and steps back, out of the doorway so he can enter. Steve toes off his shoes as Eddie breezes past him and to the couch. He must have been watching something on TV because he usually shuts himself away in his room with all his things. (Steve called him a hoarder once and Eddie’d said that just makes him a dragon. At Steve’s blank look, Eddie’d explained that dragons have hoards, typically gold, but that was ‘a bit too rich’ for his blood.)

“What’re we watching?” Steve asks, plopping himself next to Eddie, angled slightly more towards Eddie than the TV.

“I was watching Fire and Ice, but I’m like halfway through. We can find something else.”

“Have you seen it before?” Steve asks, looking at the scene paused on the TV currently. Some animated thing, which is unsurprising. Eddie made him watch an animated Lord of the Rings when Steve gave up on reading the books, and The Black Cauldron just a few weeks ago. Eddie seemed to like animation as much as horror and thriller.

“Several times,” Eddie says. “I own it.”

“Then just tell me what’s happened so far, and the names of people on screen when they appear and I’ll figure it out. Or I won’t,” he adds with a shrug, unbothered about understanding what was happening. If the movie ends up being important enough to Eddie, he’ll see if they have it at Family Video to see the whole thing. Or maybe ask Eddie to invite him over next time he watches.

Eddie laughs and reaches for the remote. He just holds onto it as he explains, “there’s two kingdoms. One of ice, and one of fire. The ice people are evil, the fire ones good. Ice people kidnapped the fire princess, and, uh, the guy in a loincloth is out to save her. Currently he’s stowed away on her brother’s ship as he’s also on the way to save her.”

Ah. Alright. A classic Eddie movie. Fantasy. Magic. A hero, and someone needing saved. Steve nods and waves his hand at the TV in a ‘let’s get on with it’ motion. He’s rewarded with a smile from Eddie before he presses play and settles into the couch.

He watches Eddie much more than he watches the movie. Steve does this most times they watch movies together. He lifts an arm to the back of the couch, bending at the elbow to make a place to place his head, and lounges there. He can see the TV and Eddie’s profile from this position but he ends up watching Eddie’s profile more than the TV.

Eddie’s expressive. Eyebrows going up, mouth opening in shock. Brows furrowing, a scowl when he thinks someone has done something stupid, or a character he hates has come on screen. Laugh lines that come into view. It’s a whole show itself, watching Eddie.

Steve’s got no clue how the movie goes but he watches the very end, if only because he knows as soon as the credits start that Eddie will turn to him for his opinion, and Steve doesn’t want to get caught watching Eddie instead of the movie.

Which is a completely normal thing to worry about.

Perfectly on queue, Eddie turns to him, “so, what did you think?”

Steve turns his own head slowly from the screen to Eddie, takes in his expression. Anticipation for the answer, but Steve thinks Eddie knows that Steve wasn’t paying attention because he looks amused, like he’s asked a trick question. “I think I need to watch it from the beginning.”

Eddie laughs at that, so Steve does, too. They fall into easy conversation after that, chatting for another hour or so until it’s dark and Steve has to leave because he opens tomorrow.

Heading to the door, Steve spots a new leather jacket handing from the little coat rack he’d helped Eddie mount on the wall when the Munsons moved into their new place. He knows the jacket is new, to Eddie anyway, because where the zipper on the sleeve is broken and held together with a chain on Eddie’s old one, this on has a button closure instead.

“Hey, new jacket!” Steve grabs the sleeve, pulling at so he can take a look at the front. Leather jackets aren’t Steve’s style, but he can tell this one looks real nice.

“Oh. No, that’s not mine,” Eddie says. “Jack forgot it in my room, and we know it’ll never see the light of day again if I’d left it there.”

Steve just blinks. “Jack? Who is Jack?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, ushering Steve out the door. “You’re not my only friend, Steve.”

“I know all your other friends,” Steve says dumbly. “Gareth, and Jeff, and Frankie.”

He sees the spark of mischief in Eddie’s eyes before the shit eating grin spreads across his face and he lifts his hands in a ‘what can I say?’ sort of shrug before he says, “Well, you don’t know Jack then.”

Steve groans and Eddie cackles.

June 25, 1987

It takes Steve a few more days and an evening shift with Robin that leads to a sleepover to realize why he can’t stop thinking about the stupid leather jacket hanging up at Eddie’s.

“Okay dingus, what is it?” Robin asks as she locks the front door behind them before toeing her shoes off. Steve is bent down, untying his shoes because he’s not a heathen, so he looks up at her, confusion on his face.

“What is what?”

Robin rolls her eyes like he’s an idiot and puts one hand on her hip to look down at him. “Whatever it is that has you sighing wistfully every five minutes.”

“I am not sighing wistfully,” Steve argues because he’s not. He would know if he was sighing and he’s not. Except as soon as he looks back down at his shoes he does let out a sigh. Shit. Robin’s right. “Okay, guess I am. I just… didn’t know that I was.”

“Well, what’s causing it?”

Steve hesitates, not because he doesn’t want to talk it out with Robin but because he doesn’t know how. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll tell me when you do know?”

“Yeah.”

Their night continues like usual. Steve turns on the radio for background noise, Robin raids his kitchen for snacks, and they lay on the floor in the living room. They complain about the rude customers they dealt with and gossip about the others. Conversation stays light and all the while, Steve is in the back of his mind thinking about that stupid jacket.

“Hey Robs,” Steve says after a quiet has fallen over them. “Did you know Eddie has a friend named Jack?”

“No,” Robin says easily. And Steve supposes it should be an easy thing, to accept that your friend has friends you don’t also have. “Why?”

“He left a jacket at Eddie’s place,” Steve says slowly, still gathering his thoughts. “It was a nice jacket.”

“Uh huh,” Robin agrees, tilting her head a bit to the side, watching him.

“I saw the jacket and thought it was Eddie’s. A new one. But he told me it was Jack’s, and I-I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Or him. Jack. Do you think Jack’s the reason Eddie ditched movie night?”

Robin has the audacity to laugh at him. Just one quick bark of a laugh before she’s covering her mouth with both hands to hold it in. Steve glares at her but she doesn’t even look remorseful for laughing at his problems. Once she’s successfully swallowed her laughter, Robin says, “So, still hung up on that?”

“Robin, I’m being serious right now!”

“About what Steve? You like a jacket that you can’t steal from Eddie because it doesn’t belong to him?”

“No! That Eddie’s got a secret friend who leaves stuff in his room and I’m-” Steve clamps his mouth shut, the unspoken words ringing in his head.

“Oh my God, you’re jealous!” Robin says with too much glee for a woman saying the unspoken bit out loud.

Steve huffs, rolling over onto his stomach to hide his face in his arms. To the carpet he says, “I don’t even know why! I’m not jealous of Eddie’s other friends. Just…”

“Just the one dude you don’t know?”

Steve wants to shrink in on himself but that’s harder to do on the floor than it is curled up on the couch. He settles to tightening his arms around his head. “This is stupid.”

“Yeah, a little,” Robin says lightly, “but Eddie’s your best guy friend and you aren’t used to sharing, spoiled little rich kid that you are.”

“I can share just fine!”

“Not your friends.”

He turns his head, popping out of where he’s hidden to glare at her. “That is not true!”

Robin’s laughing again. “It is! You can’t share friends! You’re only okay with Dustin having other friends because he already had them before being your friend. Same with Eddie and his other friends. But try and bring a new friend in? Nope. Jealousy strikes.”

“That’s- I’m not- I don’t care if other people gets friends that aren’t me.”

She laughs louder before rolling onto her side to look at Steve. “You do to! You were the same way with Tommy and Carol.”

He wants to argue, but really, he doesn’t have an argument. He can’t remember Tommy or Carol trying to bring new friends into their group in school, but also, they’d all gone to the same elementary, middle, and high school. They’d established friendships and cliques early on and at the end of the day, Tommy and Carol had other friends but Steve was their friend and everyone knew it.

Huh.

Maybe he does have a problem with sharing.

“This doesn’t feel the same. I was never- it didn’t feel like this with Tommy and Carol.”

That sobers Robin a little. The laughter drops from her voice when she asks, “well, what does it feel like?”

Steve frowns. “I don’t know. Like… like I’ll lose Eddie.”

“That’s silly,” Robin says, shifting to sit up, cross-legged. “Even if Jack is Eddie’s new best friend, he’ll never have the same bond we all have. You won’t lose Eddie.”

No. He won’t. Robin’s right. The horrors of the Upside Down will forever connect them. This thing that they all will only ever have each other to relate to. But this doesn’t feel like the fear of just losing a friend. It’s something else, but Steve can’t pin down the feeling.

“Yeah,” he agrees, because Robin isn’t wrong. “It is a bit silly.”

July 11, 1987

Steve meets Jack two weeks later. Well, everyone meets Jack two weeks later because in an effort to beat the heat, Dustin showed up in his swim trunks, interrupting Steve and Robin’s first full day off together in weeks, and an hour later Steve’s found himself hosting an impromptu swim party, complete with burgers and hot dogs that Steve ends up in charge of grilling like he’s some dad on the Fourth of July.

(Or, as Robin is apt to remind him, it’s his house and his grill and does he really want to put anyone else in charge of working something with an open flame? Which, no. No he does not.)

Dustin had called and invited the rest of the Party. Will shows up with El, Jonathan, and Argyle. Mike gets a ride from Nancy, who sees what’s happening and asks if it’s okay she crashes the party, too. (Apparently Mike had told her Party Members Only, but once it’s made clear anyone is welcome, Nancy leaves and returns with her swimsuit and several side dishes.)

Max gets a ride from Eddie.

Eddie walks her to the back, “just sayin’ hi.”

“You can stay,” Steve immediately says.

“I got the guys with me,” Eddie says, gesturing vaguely with his hand towards the front of the house.

“No problem. The more, the merrier or whatever,” Steve says, making a circle in the air with his scrubby as he speaks. “I don’t have enough swim trunks for everyone, though.”

Eddie smiles, big and bright and Steve can’t help returning it. “Alright. Awesome. I’ll go ask ‘em if they don’t mind crashing a party.”

Steve hears the answer as Eddie’s van goes quiet instead of the sound of crunching gravel as he leaves, and soon enough all of Corroded Coffin is filing into the backyard along with an unknown dude jammed in the middle of them, chatting with Jeff. Steve knows immediately that Unknown Dude is Jack because he recognizes the leather jacket he’s wearing.

Who wears their leather jacket in the middle of summer?

(Nevermind that Eddie does occasionally. Eddie’s not wearing his right now, though. No, he’s in denim shorts that Steve just knows in his heart where once full jeans and a Judas Priest tank top. The standard summer uniform for him, Steve’s come to know.)

The new group makes the rounds, introducing Jack to everyone as Steve watches from behind the grill. He’s not cooking yet; the grill needed a good cleaning first because it hasn’t been used in God only knows how long.

Jack’s got dirty blonde hair, a length to rival Eddie’s, but pin straight as Steve’s own hair. He’s not a bad looking dude by any means, which Steve feels some sort of way about. Angry, maybe? He’s wearing black jeans, some sort of graphic tee, the stupid leather jacket, and combat boots. Steve can see he wears more rings than Eddie does. It’s entirely too hot to be dressed this way but Jack looks unphased by the heat. Jack doesn’t pass for Eddie’s twin in any way, but they certainly match.

(Steve hates how easily Jack matches Eddie’s aesthetic. He takes in his own Hawaiian printed swim trunks and yellow polo, looking every bit like a Sears catalogue Summer Edition and sticking out amongst all of Eddie’s friends, and everyone else really, for it. (He’d bought both the shirt and swim trunks at Sears, actually, because Robin had pointed out how very ‘him’ them seemed and, well, she wasn’t wrong.))

The grill is now clean and he’s lighting the charcoal by the time the get to him. They’ve lost Gareth to the pool, who took of his shirt, socks, and shoes, and jumped in wearing his jeans, and Frankie to a conversation with Jonathan and Argyle, so it’s just Eddie, Jeff, and Jack who arrive at the grill.

“And this is our glorious and generous host, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says once they come to a stop next to him.

“Hey. I’m Jack Williams,” Jack grins, offering up a hand to shake. Steve takes it and gives it one shake, exactly how his dad taught him to do when meeting business partners. Firm and formal, friendly but distant.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve says because it’s expected for him to say even though he doesn’t think he finds meeting Jack all that nice.

Jack appraises him, then. Jack stands in silence for a moment and he flicks his eyes down, taking in the whole of Steve’s appearance before eyes -blue, Steve sees now that he’s close enough to make out such details- flit about his face. It makes Steve feel like Jack is sizing him up. “I thought thee Steve Harrington would be taller.”

Eddie’s hand swings out, smacking Jack hard on his arm before Steve can even so much as bristle at that. “Dude!”

“I’m just joking!” Jack laugh and Steve hates it. It’s a stupid laugh. “Sorry, Steve. It’s just with all I’ve heard about you I thought I’d be meeting God himself or something.”

Oh. Well. Maybe it’s not that stupid of a laugh. “Really?”

“You have to know you’re Eddie’s favorite subje-” Jack doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Eddie attacks him and Steve has to shoo them away for fear their wrestling will knock over the grill.

Steve doesn’t even get a chance to ask how Eddie and Jack met before Robin’s appearing with the burgers and hot dogs. It’s fine. He’ll ask later. He might not even need to know. It settles something inside him to know that Jack knows about him. That Eddie talks about him to Jack enough for Jack to have constructed a version of Steve in his own head.

He think he’s finally made peace with whatever was going on in his head involving Eddie and Jack’s friendship when he catches the moment that makes his stomach drop.

It’s later in the day, moving onto evening. Everyone is out of the pool but still lounging around it. Steve finally been allowed to remove himself from behind the grill because everyone’s full and they’re out of burgers anyway. Steve is coming back outside, having gone in to grab himself, Eddie and Jack a beer each.

He doesn’t catch what Jack said. Just Eddie’s reaction to it. A reaction he’s never seen Eddie give anyone but him.

Eddie’s face pinkens and he drags a lock of hair in front of his face to hide his immediate smile, only releasing the strand once he’s got his smile under control, wrestled into a closed mouth grin that does nothing to hide his joy. And then. Then Eddie’s face does something Steve has seen a thousand times, but never at this angle. Never at this distance.

Maybe it’s because it’s from this distance and angle that Steve’s able to really see it.

Eddie looks smitten. Infatuated. Lovesick.

Steve feels his stomach drop and his first thought is ‘I’m too late’ which is instantly followed by ‘wait, what? Late for what?’

Forget stomach dropping. Steve feels like the whole floor has dropped out from beneath him and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t be surrounded by all these people who know him too well. If they look at him, if anyone see him, they’ll know. They’ll know what Steve’s just figured out from one second to the next and he can’t- he can’t deal with that.

Somehow he forces his legs to move. It’s like he’s outside his own body as he approaches Eddie and Jack. He hands over the beers he grabbed them and makes some excuse to go back inside. He’s vaguely aware that Eddie takes a single step towards Steve, as if to follow, but Jack stops him with a single brush of the back of his hand to the top of Eddie’s arm and Steve books it.

He’s such an idiot.

His feelings from earlier, from when he was talking to Robin, just click into place. Of course it didn’t feel like the fear of losing a friend.

It feels like how he felt when he realized Nancy had feelings for Jonathan instead of him anymore.

Heartbreak.

Robin finds him on the floor on his bedroom sometime he couldn’t quantify later, wedged between his bed and the wall, still clutching a now room temperature beer can.

“You okay Steve? Been in here a while,” Robin asks in a tone of voice that suggests she knows he’s very much not okay but will let him pretend to be right now if that’s what he needs.

He loves her for it.

“I hate Jack,” Steve says, quiet and flat.

Robin makes a humming noise as she settles on the floor in front of him on her knees.

“I hate Jack because Eddie likes him.”

“Well, we did already discuss your inability to share friends.”

“No. Robin,” Steve says, voice taking on a pleading tone. Begging her to understand without him having to say it. “I hate Jack because Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him, and I think he used to like me the same way, and I hate Jack.”

Robin’s brows furrow before springing up to her hairline. “Oh. Oh! Steve, oh…” and then she’s grabbing for him, tugging and pulling and adjusting until she’s got him in her arms and half in her lap. They don’t say anything else for a while. Robin runs her hands through his hair and Steve clings to her like a child.

Robin leaves briefly to let everyone know Steve’s not feeling good and to lock up behind them when they go.

July 21, 1987

All in all, Steve handles his gay crisis like a champ. Or so says Robin. It’s easier than he thought it would be. He’s had time to process that being queer isn’t wrong, what with having Robin, Eddie, and Will all out to their group and he’s always been good at adjusting to change.

What Steve is handling with considerable less grace (so says Robin) is the pining. His crisis quickly evolved from oh my God I want to kiss a boy to oh my God I’ve missed my chance to kiss Eddie and Robin keeps rolling her eyes about it. Which is rude. She’s being rude.

Even if Steve is driving Robin up a wall with his moping.

“Just tell Eddie you want to kiss him,” she hisses under her breath to his during the overlap of their shifts. She opened and he has to close, but from 4-7 they work together. The store is currently empty, with it being a Tuesday and therefore a slower day. “You’ve never had an issue asking someone out before. You did it all summer at Scoops even though all you did was get rejected! And all last years here, and you didn’t get rejected.”

“This is different!”

“Pretty sure asking out a boy isn’t all that different from asking a girl. There’s only so many ways you can say ‘wanna go to dinner and a movie with me’, y’know?”

Steve groans and drops his head onto the counter by the register. “That’s not what I meant, Robs.”

Robin lets out a world weary sigh and he hears her leaning herself against the counter on the customer side in front of him more than he sees it. “Enlighten me then. What makes this different?”

“Other than you, I’ve never asked out a friend before. And honestly, if I hadn’t still been a little under the effects of whatever we were drugged with, I wouldn’t have. There’s, like, something to actually lose if a friend says no,” Steve mumbles into the countertop.

“Well, Eddie’s not going to say no, but, like, even if he did, he’s not going to stop being your friend,” Robin says and he feels her hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

It’s Steve’s turn to heave a sigh. She’s not wrong. If Eddie’s still into Steve, and Steve’s not convinced he is, then it’ll be the easiest date Steve’s ever set. He asks, Eddie says yes, they go on to live happily ever after or something. What Steve’s more afraid of, the option he thinks it more likely, is that Eddie’s over pining after Straight Steve Harrington and has moved on to Jack of Unknown Sexual Orientation and if Steve asks Eddie out, to dinner and a movie or to the fair at the end of the week or whatever, Eddie will tell him ‘sorry but no. I used to like you but you took too long to catch on and I’m over it now. We can still be friends though’ and Steve will have to say ‘oh, yeah, no of course. Friends is great. Love being just friends’. Then they’ll both avoid each other, Steve to nurse his broken heart and Eddie because that’s just what you do when someone confesses they like you but you don’t feel the same because no matter what anyone says that’s awkward and you’re left feeling a little bit like an asshole for rejecting someone and-

“-eve! Dingus!”

Steve pops up off the counter, pulling himself from his thoughts. “What?”

The look Robin levels him with his decidedly unimpressed. “Whatever you were just imagining isn’t going to happen.”

“You don’t know what I-”

“I know we haven’t actually melded into a single person, but we are the closest thing a pair of humans can get to it. I don’t need to know exactly what you were imagining to know you’re wrong.”

Steve frowns. “What if I’m not?”

“What if you are?” Robin shoves off the counter. “We can have this conversation all day until we’re blue in the face. How about this. You don’t have to ask Eddie out, but at least come out to him. Then you can gauge his reaction. Watch as he lights up with hope or joy or whatever.”

He snorts a laugh at that. “Maybe.”

He spends the rest of his shift thinking about it. It’s a scary idea, saying it outloud to anyone besides Robin, but it’s also not scary. Because he knows it’ll be okay. Three other people in their weird little friend group are out and the world didn’t end. Though, when faced with real life monsters, near death experiences, and the world almost ending, being gay is probably the least of anyone’s concerns.

Midnight finally rolls around and Steve closes down the store. He’s going to sleep on it, but he thinks he is going to come out to Eddie. Even if nothing comes from it, even if Steve’s left pining forever, at least it might be nice to just let Eddie know. Queer Solidification, or whatever the word is that Robin uses.

July 23, 1987

Once again, Steve turns up at Eddie’s place unannounced. There’s a motorcycle parked out front of the trailer and Steve just knows it belongs to Jack.

He should have called. Made sure Eddie was here alone before coming over. He’s okay with coming out to Eddie, but not Jack, too.

Even so, he parks along the motorcycle. Turns the car off. Sits in it for another ten minutes, waffling between leaving and staying before finally unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing from the car. He’s going to do this tonight. Robin leaves back to Chicago for school mid-August and if this goes the way he thinks it will, he’s going to need all that time with her before she leaves.

Might also need the time between now and then to search for apartments to follow her there so he doesn’t have to stay here in his humiliation.

The porch is complete now. Steve never got around to telling Wayne he’d help with it. Too late now.

Steve pulls the screen door open, stepping in front of it so his body keeps it out of the way.

Knock knock knock.

Three quick hits to the door and he waits. He’s doing this.

The door opens just enough for Eddie to peak around. He looks a bit on edge at first, then his face smooths into an easy smile when he sees it’s Steve. “Oh, hey. Checking on Max again?”

“Uh, no. Here for you, actually. If that’s okay?”

“Um. One second,” Eddie says, closing the door again. Steve feels like his stomach is trying to climb up his throat. God, what if Eddie can’t talk tonight? Steve might just start looking for apartments anyway. Better safe than sorry.

An eternity (less than a minute) later, Eddie opens the door again, this time all the way. Steve steps inside before he really thinks about it. It smells like weed in here, so Steve knows what they were up to before he knocked.

He doesn’t want to have the conversation outside where anyone can overhear, but he doesn’t want to have it in front of Jack either. Jack, and the other stranger on the couch next to him.

Fuck.

“This is Steve,” Eddie introduces. “You know Jack. This is Lee.”

Lee is sat on the couch next to Jack, leaned against the armrest. He’s dressed like a toned down version of Jack. Still in dark clothes, but considerably less accessories. He’s handsome, too, with a rounder face and almond-shaped dark eyes.

“Hi,” Steve says.

“Hey,” Jack and Lee say at the same time, with Jack lifting a hand in greeting.

Eddie takes a step towards the couch, probably to plop down in the spot he was previously in, but Steve shoots a hand out to grab Eddie’s arm and halt his movement.

“Um. I actually. I just came to tell you something.”

“Well, alright. Shoot,” Eddie says.

Steve looks to the strangers on the couch before looking back to Eddie. “Privately.”

Eddie frowns, just for a moment, before his face smooths over and he shrugs. “Alright. We’ll be back out shortly,” he tells Jack and Lee before pulling his arm from Steve’s grasp to head down the hall to his bedroom.

Steve shuffles after, feeling awkward suddenly.

Eddie pushes the door open, then stands in the doorway like he’s holding it for Steve. Steve squeezes by him, his entire arm brushing against Eddie’s chest and stomach and just that little contact makes Steve’s stomach swoop.

Jesus Christ he’s got it bad, doesn’t he? How hadn’t he known that he had a crush on Eddie until recently? How had he been so blind?

The door clicks closed.

“So, what is it Steve?”

Steve stands in the middle of Eddie’s room. It’s messy, but not to dirty. There are clothes scattered about, and clutter on every surface, but Steve knows that Eddie knows where everything is. That if Steve knew what to ask for, Eddie would know where to find it in the chaos.

“I- um. Wow. This is harder than I thought it’d be,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair as he turns to look at Eddie. Which is a mistake. Looking at Eddie isn’t going to make this easier. Not now that he knows he wants to cup his face, and kiss those plush lips, and run his fingers through his hair.

Eddie’s so fucking hot and once again, Steve’s left to wonder how he missed it.

“What is? You okay, dude?” Eddie asks, taking just one step closer. Like he wants to comfort Steve even when he doesn’t know what he’d be comforting Steve for.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Um. Kinda fucking scared but not- uh, not in a bad way?”

That gets a little laugh out of Eddie, and it’s wonderful. Eddie has a wonderful laugh. Why did it take him so long to realize?

“Scared but not in the bad way, huh. Like when you watch a horror movie or go to a haunted house?”

“No. No. More… more like making a big life decision.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, blinking at him before his brows pinch together and he looks down, eyes on the floor instead of Steve’s face. It makes Steve feel like he can take a deep breath for the first time since enter Eddie’s room.

There’s a noise from beyond the door; it makes Steve jump. Eddie turns to look over his shoulder, like he’ll get x-ray vision and be able to see what made the noise through his own closed door. “I think they went to the porch for a cigarette.”

“Oh. Okay. Um. How- How did you meet Jack and Lee?” Steve asks, which isn’t what he came here to learn but the question has been plaguing him since he learned of Jack’s existence.

Eddie shifts. Uncomfortable. “At a bar in Indy. Why?”

Steve shrugs. “I was just curious. We didn’t go to school with either of them so you know…”

“No. I don’t know. Steve, what did you come here to tell me?” Eddie sighs, like he’s already had a full conversation with Steve in his head and didn’t like the outcome. Steve hates that he can’t just understand Eddie the same way he can Robin. Eddie is a mystery.

Eddie is a mystery, and Steve doesn’t want him to be. He wants Eddie to tell him everything about himself. Every little secret he keeps. And he wants to do the same. He wants Eddie to know everything there is to know about him, even if Steve isn’t sure there’s a whole lot to know about him.

God. Robin’s right, as usually. Steve’s not just going to come out to him. He’s going to tell Eddie he likes him.

“Right. Yeah. Umm, so. So it’s like this. You missed movie night at the beginning of June and-”

“What!?” Eddie sounds amused and offended, and Steve ignores him.

“-and like, ever since then we’ve been hanging out less and less. And like, that’s fine. You have your own friends, like a whole other life that doesn’t include me, and that’s fine. Great even. But, like. Okay. So, I dropped in unannounced and learned you had a new friend that I didn’t even know existed. Which is, like, normal. I’m not your keeper, I don’t need to know every little thing about you.” Steve is pacing in Eddie’s room and Eddie is looking at him like he’s gone insane, but he kind of feels insane right now so that’s fine.

“But, here’s the thing. You told me that jacket belonged to someone else and I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it! That you had a friend who I didn’t know that was a close enough friend to leave things in your room and I just… Robin says I’m not good at sharing my friends. That it’s fine if I make friends and that friend already comes with other friends. But if that friend makes a new friend, that I’m not good at sharing. Does that make sense?”

When Steve turns to look at Eddie again, because he’s turned away in his pacing, Eddie has leans back against the door. Seems to be using it for support as he stares at Steve, eyes wide and confused. “No. Absolutely nothing you’ve said has made sense yet. Continue.”

“Oh. Um. Anyway, Robin told me I wasn’t good at sharing and she’s right. Because she’s always fucking right, and I was jealous. I knew I was, but it wasn’t, wasn’t until recently that I understood why. Because it didn’t feel the same. I didn’t feel jealous the same way I felt jealous when Robin told me about the friends she made in college, or back in high school with Tommy or Carol hung out with someone else,” Steve pauses, licking his lips nervously. “It felt like… like the night I saw Nancy and Jonathan together, back in junior year when Nancy and I were still dating. It felt like. Like that kind of jealousy.”

Eddie sucks in a breath but doesn’t speak, and Steve can’t seem to stop speaking, so he continues.

“Then I met Jack and he’s like fucking perfect. Fits right in with your friends and your look and he probably likes all the same shit you do and I don’t but I want- I don’t fit in and I can’t really stand how loud metal music is and I really don’t want to play your nerd game and I don’t match you, not like- not like Jack does but I saw you look at him, and it was the same way you used to look at me and I didn’t see if then, but I do know and I know this is kind of shitty. To not realize until you’ve already, like, moved on or something, and-”

“I haven’t,” Eddie speaks up and Steve’s attention snaps to him. Eddie’s looking at him with awe on his face and with disbelief in his voice. “Moved on. I haven’t. If you’re, holy shit, if you’re hear to say what I think -hope- you are, based on this absolute Robin Moment you’re having with your words.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. Not now that Eddie’s interrupted. It was an absolute Robin Moment and she’s going to die laughing when he tells her about it, but he’s not thinking about Robin right now because it sounds like- it sounds like he’s not too late. “I- Eddie.”

Eddie shoves off his door and takes a step closer to Steve. “Steve. What did you come here to tell me?”

“That, that I’m like- that I like you,” Steve says, even though when he’s started that sentence he’d wanted to say he was some kind of gay. Half gay or something. “I like you, and I want to take you on a date.”

“Holy shit. Shit,” Eddie looks startled, even though Steve’s sure he already drew that conclusion in his mind. But thinking it and hearing it are very different. Eddie closes the distance between them but hesitates to actually reach out. “Shit, Steve. Like a real date?”

“Are there fake ones?” Steve asks, amused.

Eddie grins, shy, “yeah. I’ll let you take me on a date.”

He reaches out, placing a hand on Eddie’s hip and the other on his cheek. In a fit of bravery that surprises himself, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie nods and keeps nodding his head even as the distance between them closes, like he can’t help himself or stop. Not until their lips touch.

Kissing is kissing, Steve realizes. Kissing Eddie is no different from kissing a girl except that because it’s Eddie and that makes Steve want it all the more. Eddie’s lips are chapped and kind of shredded because he chews on his bottom lip, but Steve doesn’t give a fuck. Not when Eddie melts against him, into the kiss. Not when he finally touches Steve back, arms wrapping around him to pull him as close as possible.

They don’t pull apart until they’re out of breath.

“Is this real? I’m not hallucinating, right? The weed we smoked wasn’t laced with anything, I thought, but-”

“It’s a shared hallucination if you are,” Steve laughs.

“I can’t believe you were envious of Jack.”

“Jealous.”

“Semantics.”

Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him, and kissed him, and he’s agreed to a date.

Later, they’ll slink back out to join Jack and Lee. Steve will learn to tolerate Jack (as much as he can knowing that Eddie used to or might still have a crush on the guy) and find that he does enjoy Lee’s company. (Later that night, he’ll learn he never needed to worry. Jack and Lee have been a couple since they were both fourteen.)

And later still, he’ll take Eddie on a date to the fair, disguised as a group outing.

Robin is smug the whole time, but Steve doesn’t care because Eddie kisses him behind the Funhouse while she plays lookout.

[livixcore]

i do every year don’t i? (idol!seo changbin x f!reader)

✮ summary: every year you made a big deal about your boyfriends birthday and this year was no different except you hadn’t seen him much with the ‘Ate’ comeback being so recent so the movie night didn’t go as planned but it couldn’t have been more perfect.

✮ a/n: okay first time writing full fluff… i don’t LOVE it but i also don’t hate it so please enjoy:) i started writing this literally the day before Binnie’s birthday but i was working so much i didn’t have time to finish it but it’s finally done hehe… was aiming for it to just be a wee drabble but that didn’t happen whoops :3

✮ pairing: idol!Seo Changbin x f!reader

✮ genre: fluff

✮ warnings: suggestive, swearing, just some fluffy goodness:) not proof read mb

✮ wc: 2k

You’d been planning for this night for a couple weeks, talking to the other boys to make a perfect birthday movie night for Changbin. Thankfully his birthday was on the day you all usually did your movie nights in one of the dorms so you decided to just make a small party out of it with all 8 of the boys and yourself.

Most weeks you all just busied yourself with making snacks and bringing them all to the livingroom to sit all together with a movie playing on the television but you wanted this one to be special. A special night for your special boy.

The schedule had been absolute chaos all week with award shows and fan signings happening every day so the Saturday night was perfect for some relaxation. Chan had made sure to clear the schedules for the kids so that the night would go smoothly.

“Okay perfect this is looking great guys but remember Hyunjin and Bin are coming home in like an hour so we need to get this finished!” You stood in the middle of the dorm watching the boys all help putting up the silly decorations you’d bought. Balloons and streamers filled the room with bright colours, mostly pink.

Every year on Changbin’s birthday you made a point out of over decorating the dorm because you loved to make a fuss about your boyfriend, helping him understand how loved and appreciated he is.

Technically his birthday wasn’t until tomorrow but since you all tended to watch a couple movies at your movie nights you thought it would be perfect for it to run into his birthday and it means everyone who loves him dearly is with him since he can’t be home with his family.

“I don’t think Hyunjin realises how much cleaning is gonna need to be done afterwards like you’d think he’d want to be here to watch the downfall of his dorm.” Seungmin laughed as he sat on the floor blowing up a couple small balloons.

“He told me to go crazy so here I am going crazy.” You shrugged. “Plus this isn’t the most insane I’ve done remember when we covered the studio and the practice rooms in all this shit? Oh I still remember the look on JYP’s face when he saw them.” A shiver ran up your spine at the mere thought of it.

The room erupted into laughter from all angles. You’d gotten a good lecture after that about trashing the company building and what not. Personally you wouldn’t say it was ‘trashing’, you were just celebrating and decorating. Big difference.

You heard giggling from below you, looking down to be met with Felix and Jisung lying on the floor rolling around in the confetti making snow angels or confetti angels in this case and throwing handfuls of it at each other.

You couldn’t even be mad because those two had done the most work helping you make this perfect.

About 50 minutes had gone by and finally everything was in place. All the movie snacks had been sorted and placed in an arrangement on the table in the centre of the room. A cake sat prettily on the kitchen counter surrounded with a gift from each of the boys and a couple sitting from you off to the side.

Each wall was decorated with pink and silver balloons, streamers running down beneath them and brightening the place up. Maybe it was a little over the top but you highly doubted Hyunjin and Changbin were cleaning this up so you didn’t mind since it would most likely be you dealing with it.

You all stood back and admired your work before collapsing on any available surface even just to lean against.

“He’s for sure going to lose his mind when he steps through that door.” Chan sputtered out a laugh while binning the last few packets from the decorations.

“That’s the goal. I just want him to know how loved he is and what better time than on his birthday with his favourite people.” You smiled at the thought of his reaction, hoping he loves it as much as you think he will.

Before anyone could respond to you the sound of a key snapped all of your attention towards the door, everyone scrambling to stand up and welcome the birthday boy himself.

When the door finally opened and Changbin’s face appeared around the side of it you all erupted into cheers, shouting a plethora of happy birthdays and other greetings.

“Holy shit!” he broke out into a laugh, a massive grin stretching from ear to ear on his face. “All of this for me? You’re crazy!”

You couldn’t help but run into your boyfriend’s arms, crashing against his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. He stumbled back at the contact before dropping his gym bag and reciprocating your hug, his arms snaking around your waist and lifting you off the floor.

The rest of the boys had grabbed the bags of takeout and extra snacks from Hyunjin and taken them to the kitchen, leaving you and Changbin in the foyer of the dorm together.

“Princess you did all of this for me?” He mumbled into your neck, his face pressed there from the hug. You nodded giggling as he put your feet back on the floor.

“Of course, I do every year don’t I?” You smiled before leaning in and littering his face with kisses, the last being a lingering one on his lips as you felt him smile against your own.

He smiled down at you before looking around the room, beaming at all the effort you all put in. All you could do was admire him, the smile on his face was enough for you to fall in love with him all over again.

“Right should we get these movies started? It’s not Binnie’s birthday for another… 4 and a half hours soooo…?” Minho said while carrying the snacks that Changbin and Hyunjin had brought into the livingroom on plates and bowls.

“Yeah but Bin gets to pick the movies, it’s only fair.” Chan shrugged, of course he was the one making sure the kids played fair.

After about 20 minutes of scrolling through every streaming platform possible Changbin finally choose a rom-com to start. It’s one you guys had been wanting to watch for a while but never found the time so now was the chance.

The movie started playing as everyone settled comfortably into the couches and blankets laid on the floor. Limbs thrown over one another either for comfort or to simply annoy each other.

You had your legs thrown over Changbin’s lap as his hands found their place on your calves, kneading the flesh ever so slightly absentmindedly.

Over an hour had gone by but the movie was only 30 in due to the fact everyone kept interrupting for toilet breaks or just to chat about something that happened in the movie that then went off into 3 other conversations before someone mentioned the fact you all still had a movie to finish.

“Yah! Can we get through this movie? I’d like to finish it at some point so we can get onto another one and then go to bed.” Changbin boomed loudly catching everyone’s attention.

No one replied at first until you broke out into laughter, which then caused a chain reaction and everyone was laughing with you.

“Aw I’ve missed this. You guys have all been so busy lately it’s fun to just chat baby.” You said, leaning over to plant a kiss on Changbin’s cheek and place a hand on his which were still holding onto your legs.

“Yeah Hyung come on we’re just having fun, the movies not going anywhere anytime soon. With the comeback being so recent we are just enjoying this time to chill! More importantly to celebrate your birthday.” Seungmin said, obviously making sense which Changbin couldn’t deny.

“Fine fine, I’ve missed it too I just wanted to watch this though.” He pouted. “You’re right though the movie isn’t going anywhere we can easily watch it another time too.” A cheeky smile broke out across his face since he knows he can just play this at the next movie night if he wanted.

Shortly after the movie was long forgotten as you all caught up, mostly the guys catching up with you since you’d only seen them a handful of times in the past month or so.

“Come on y/nnie! You were offered the chance to come to Milan and London too so you can’t be mad at us because you turned it down!” Felix threw his hands up in defeat. “We asked with plenty of time in advance.”

“You literally work with the company! I don’t know why you turned it down.” Hyunjin added, clearly taking the majorities side.

“I didn’t want to distract you guys, those festivals were big deals!” You defended yourself with the first reason you could think of.

“Be so for real, the only person you could’ve distracted was Bin.” Han had giggled, causing Changbin to chuck a pillow at him. “Yah! You know i’m right Hyung.”

“Yeah yeah whatever, I was probably more distracted by the fact I missed you.” Changbin’s face flushed red as his admission. “But it’s over now so it’s fine.” He shrugged.

You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso.

The clock was counting down the time to the big day. Binnie’s birthday. In approximately 32 minutes it would be his day. Your boyfriend’s day. A day of celebrating the entirety of him.

The snacks on the table had slowly been running out and no one had bothered to refill anything, clearly either too lazy to do so or too engrossed in whatever bullshit you all talked about to notice.

Chatter continued in the background as you kept looking at your phone to watch the time get closer and closer to midnight so you could smother your boyfriend like you did every year at midnight on the 11th of August.

“Princess you remember that don’t you?” Changbin has turned to face you, a big smile decorating his face. Truthfully you had been too distracted keeping an eye on the time to know what he was talking about.

“Haha yeah! Uh… yeah I do of course!” You smiled by trying to act all nonchalant about the fact you had no clue what was being discussed.

“Uh oh someone’s distracted.” Jeongin whispered from beside Chan causing the elder to stifle a laugh. They all knew why you hadn’t been paying full attention.

“5… 4… 3… 2… andddd 1…” someone had said under their breath.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY BINNIE BABY!!!” You yelled immediately, jumping onto his lap and attacking him with hugs and kisses from every angle.

He didn’t even try to fight it off, instead he grabbed your face between both his hands and crashed his lips onto yours sweetly.

“Ew.” You heard a disgusted voice from behind you. You blindly flung your middle finger out and flipped off Hyunjin since you knew it was him.

“Someone stop them I’m too young for this.” the youngest had said which made you break away from Changbin with enough time to see Chan covering Jeongin’s eyes.

“No but genuinely happy birthday Bin. Since you’re done trying to do whatever the fuck that was can we say happy birthday do our Binnie now?” Seungmin scoffed and laughed at the same time.

“Yeah yeah of course I just wanted to be first.” You smiled and climbed off of his lap allowing him to stand and thank everyone individually.

A silent look was passed around everyone bar you and Changbin as they all started laughing.

“Alexa? Play ‘Birthday Sex’ by Jeremih.” Minho had yelled out.

In a matter of seconds the song started blasting through the apartment which had all of the boys in stitches laughing.

“Let’s leave them to it.” Felix laughed and started ushering everyone to the door.

You could definitely tell your face was bright red at this point.

“Jinnie you live here you fucking idiot.” You said to him hoping it would distract you from being so embarrassed.

“Not tonight I don’t. Have fun.” He smirked back waving before he left the apartment with the rest of the boys in tow.

The door clicked shut and the room fell into silence except for the music still playing.

Well… why waste it?

[ssivinee]

✧New Game, New Player✧

part 1 | part 2

BEBE! Bada Lee x Dancer! F Reader: Jeon Y/n joins SWF to prove that her being the sibling of an idol doesn't make her any less of a dancer, but while trying to do so, she makes new friends and potentially something more.

Word Count: 4.7k

Note: Double post cause why not, have too many drafts rn lol.

Character Vision Board

In the world of dance, many professionals look down upon idols who seem to have a passion for it. Many of them saying, it's a different world and aren't really wrong.

Most idols lack in freestyle and versatility which caused a lot of the disapproval last Street Woman Fighter, with idol Lee Chaeyeon.

Jeon Y/n, on the other hand, had a different dilemma.

You were the younger sister of the famous Jeon Jungkook. He was only a year older than you so you two had a close bond, and you love him with all your heart.

Yet you can't deny that once your name was involved, so was his. Your hard work being discredited and diminished by all his career alone.

It upset you as an individual whose danced all your life, going to multiple countries worldwide to gain experience, yet there was always back talk about you.

Deciding to finally make your mark as just Y/n, you opened a studio last year and create your crew Aesthete. Consisting of you, Choi Lyn, Enyo, Heaven Lee, and Kim Aria.

On a Friday morning, you walk into the studio and see the three youngest sitting around, waiting on the rest of the team. Your teams youngest, Lyn, notices you walk in from the mirror. Her bursts of energy activates as she runs up and hugs her beloved unnie extremely tight.

"O-okay, let's calm down before you squeeze all the air out of me," you joke, and Lyn pouts as you pat her head. "Aria isn't here yet?" You ask your juniors as you settle all your items into the closet.

"She was the first one here but wanted to get us all coffee."

Ironically the door opens, revealing the face you were looking for, "Speaking of the devil." She heads to everyone, handing their coffee to them and puts her own personal belongings in the closet.

"Everyone begin stretching. The studio opens in 30 minutes."

You clap and rally the girls together, stretching along with them, then check the list of students coming into the class today. The song chosen for the class was "Con Calma" by Daddy Yankee & Snow. Once class started, you got in the groove of things, and as it went smoothly, you picked a few students and grouped them up to film them for a YouTube video.

When class ends, the girls chill around in a circle as they sit and chat. You scrolled through tiktok, liking dance trends while Enyo leaned her head on your shoulder.

Your phone alerts you, an email sent to your work email instead of personal so you knew it was of importance. Opening the sent mail, your eyes widen at seeing the Mnet logo.

The girls see your face and give a look of concern to each other, "What's going on?"

Your hand over your mouth, and you read, announcing, "Mnet invited us to Street Woman Fighter 2!"

All you can hear is gasps, and after a few seconds, jumping and screaming while you still stand thinking of how unbelievable the opportunity is. Aria grabs your arm and jumps, "Unnie, this is your time to shine!"

You smiled to yourself, now believing that people may actually appreciate you for your dancing.

It was a day of filming on a Saturday morning, and you had finished filming the introduction segment of each crew a week prior.

You get to the main building of the show in your own car and, with another coffee in hand, walk into the lobby to see your team waiting for you.

"Y/n-unnie! Isn't this place so cool?" Lyn says, coming up to you full of energy. Your eyes scan the building, and you must admit, for an assumingly fierce competition, it looked very subtle from what you expected. "It's definitely something,” you mumble.

"Come on, ladies, let's head into our rooms,” you command.

We headed up the stairs and into the halls, passing every crew's room and seeing what they had written on their board.

"It seems like someone tampered with 1Millions board already," Enyo points out, you then frown at their antics. The thoughts of these grown women acting like this irritated you. They were acting like children whose toys were stolen from them.

Yes, you understood bad blood, but pettiness like this isn't a good look on anyone.

The crew sees the Aesthete in a lightly script font in royal blue. You let the girls write on the whiteboard and enter to find the blue room, getting a bit overwhelmed with everything happening so fast.

Everyone sat down and you did breathing exercises, and as the nerves calm, your anticipation and excitement overthrow the previous emotions. The screen then flashes and tells us the dancer on the team with the most no-respect, which was Aria, causing you to look at the screen in confusion.

"Um, okay?" They all laugh at your reaction, mainly because Aria wasn't a weak dancer, but you assumed those stickers were there because of you.

You felt terrible and rubbed her shoulders, "They probably picked you since you’ve been my longest student."

She smiles at you, "It's alright, unnie. I'll just show them why I haven’t left your side."

Aria had been the first student you trained about 7 years ago and has stayed by your side ever since. You always thought it was because she wanted to meet your brother at some point, but over the years, your friendship blossomed, and she reassured you. Aria took your classes because she loved your style, movement, aura, and passion for dancing.

She indeed became the little sister you never had.

Then, the TV signals us to head to the main stage. You all walked down, your team following your lead, and looked around at each group. Every crew was there, but Jam Republic, being the grand finale, you assumed.

Your appearance began to cause everyone to mumble. You kept your hand in the pockets of your cargos, inducing a chill persona.

“Y/n-nim looks so cool.”

“Her eyes look ready to kill. Like she’s ready to punch anyone who disrespects them.”

“And I thought Bada would be the only person here who would be many girl’s type.”

Before you can all take your seats, you stand in the middle and see your team video playing, hearing "Backseat Freestyle" by Kendrick Lamar.

Then, the comments begin to flow in. Starting with Lady Bounce.

"I wanna say I'm intrigued about this team, but only because of Jeon Y/n."

"She's been known as the mother of HYBE. I mean, she's choreographed so many songs for so many groups. I guess that's where all the comments stem from." Lia Kim also speaks, addressing it to her team, and they nod.

"I don't understand why a team like this is on the show. They're like team Bebe, but instead of Bada, they have Y/n," Mina Myoung of Deep N Dap comments, and you stand there with a still, stoic face.

“The team has only been around for one year. They shouldn’t even be in this competition with us,” Wolf Lo’s Halo speaks out with her opinion.

You weren't amused by their comments in the slightest, but you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of getting any major reaction out of you.

Yoonji of Mannequeen then says the comment that ticks you off the most, "Not only are these the shadow of Jeon Y/n, but she is in the shadow of Jeon Jungkook. Even coming on this show, there is no escape from that."

Everyone keeps their eyes on you, trying to see any movement or expression of anger, but you give them a smirk. You knew a comment like this would be said, which didn’t surprise you.

You got those comments quite often any time a choreography of yours went viral so it was nothing you haven’t heard of.

Then, the crew with the trendy Bada Lee appears on the screen, "I'm gonna be honest, I don't know much about them." Lusher begins. " I'd say they're probably our biggest rivals due to our dance styles," Tatter adds.

"Maybe dancing is in Y/n's genes. She just has to prove it here. As a leader, I'm sure she knows many people look down on her due to her connection to her brother." You stare at the screen, a little surprised at the more neutral comment by their leader.

“Their style is very appealing and trendy. I feel we’re gonna see a lot from this crew,” Tsubakill’s Rena says with a soft smile.

The women of Jam Rebuplic were on screen, and you couldn't help but smile a little. Kristen and Ling met you during their time with the Royal Family, and knowing them for many years put you at ease. You also became a fan of Audrey's dance style with her appearance on the World of Dance.

"I know we're in a competition with these girls, but knowing Y/n personally, I know and believe her talent goes beyond imagination and can lead this team to success." The video then ends and shows the status of no-respect stickers given. You had gotten 2, while Lyn had 4.

As you sit, you think of having 3 level-headed crews on the show that didn't disrespect you. If anything, they looked respectful and sincere about all their comments.

The large room began to buzz in whispers as crews chatted about other teams. "I can't believe they think of you like that," Enyo shakes her head, but you shrug. "Their comments were honestly what I expected. I didn't expect the nicer things that Tsubakill and Bebe said."

"Agreed," Lyn mumbles, feeling down due to the comments. "I knew Jam was gonna be nice, but everyone else was truly a fifty-fifty."

Jam Republic then comes down with an energy that no one could match in the studio. They were the ones who felt as if they were at the top, and there was no denying it. They were at the top. The girls were the most unique with their versatile dance arsenal.

You knew your abilities as a dancer, and one thing you couldn't do well was Afro-dance, as the rhythm was genuinely different.

They stand in the middle as they react to their video, but every other team can't help but stare at the girls. The video played, and as every minute passed, their reactions were solely entertained rather than angry. In some way, you were engaged by the comments, too.

Some groups said they'd rather have Paris Globel there, but you know that in the popularity game, every team would have lost right then and there.

Nearing the end, you couldn't help but smile at Audrey's reaction to her 6 stickers. Your crew didn't have anything bad to say about them, and they took note of this as they took their seats right next to yours.

Ling and Kristen give you a fist bump and smile, which is noticed by Bada, who sits one team away from Aesthete.

“They seem close, huh,” Tatter whispers to her leader, who nods, intrigued at your relationship with the international team. After hearing the praise from Jam Republic, she knew you shouldn’t be underestimated.

If people from other countries were saying good things on your behalf, you couldn't be as weak as the other crews said. The large screen then shows the show's logo as the lights begin moving around on the runway area of the stage.

"Is it starting?" Enyo asks, but her questions are answered by Kang Daniel coming out. All the women were cheering as he had the mic and queue cards in hand.

"Hello. Welcome to Mnet's original dance series, Street Woman Fighter 2, and I'm your host, Kang Daniel. Not only will we see the competitions between some of the best dance crews in Korea, but we have gone international this season - with global named crews, making the competition more intense."

Heaven and Lyn act out a fight, punching each other lightly. "Yah, chill out, please," Aria warns the two younger girls causing them to abruptly halt the play fight.

"You'll fight to crush all the other crews and reach the top. Only one crew can do that. Here's the first dance battle to be the winner of this competition."

Kang Daniel did very good at amping everyone up. As you leaned forward, arms laid on your knees, hiding the lower half of your face, you hid your smile of amusement.

"The signature of the dance series is your first mission, the no-respect battle with the weakest dancer." You were all told to change, and you take your water with you as you return to the stage.

As you leave your room, you see the tall figure with the Oreo hair leave the room right beside yours. You bow when you see her, and she reciprocates. Given that you were tall, standing at 5'8, looking slightly up to meet her gaze, it was surprising.

"Hello, Bada-nim," You reach your hand out, and her eyes go wide, looking stunned. "I just want to thank you for not saying anything negative on behalf of my team."

She gladly accepts your handshake with a friendly grin, "Hey man, I know what it feels like when people compare you to the idol instead of acknowledging your talents."

"You're telling me. I've been getting compared to my brother ever since everyone found out about us being related."

"I had those moments when dancing with Kai, but people warmed up to it, especially the more I choreographed for him."

You smile at her with envy, "I bet it's nice to hear the love from people." You lower your head and lean against the wall, feeling somewhat ashamed for feeling this way. "I'm a little jealous Bada-nim."

Bada tilts her head, confused at what you, out of everyone, had to be jealous about.

"My one wish after this entire show ends is for people to see me as Y/n, the leader of Asthete. The one who puts a lot of effort into their craft and passion. Not just a shadow of my brother."

Bada's eyes soften at your determined gaze. She could feel how much you meant every word you said to her. She could only assume how bad it was for you, but Bada never realized how much it affected your mental until you spoke to her.

Somehow, that being your first proper interaction and conversation with each other made Bada's heart race. She wasn't expecting you to open up, but she really appreciated it, as it motivated her.

You notice all the noise in the room behind her, "You wanna head down with me, or are you still waiting for your team?"

"I'll probably wait to make sure they don't take their sweet time," Bada jokes, and you give her a genuine laugh, knowing how it feels to have a team all younger than you. "Don't worry, I totally understand."

You then bow, excusing yourself to get to the main stage, where you see all of Jam Republic ready. "Kristen! Ling!" You say, coming up to the leader with a massive hug. You met the girls on your travel to New Zealand for a dance collaboration and loved their energy, causing you to keep in contact. "Hey, girl! Long time no see."

You pout, "I know, I've been busy, so I never got to visit you guys over there," you tell her as you point to Ling, trying to involve her in the conversation. She also hugs you and plays with your long, silky hair that was currently ashy brown in color. As the three talk, Bebe comes down and sees the interaction. "She's close to all of them?" Bada mumbled to herself. Lusher looks in their direction as well. "I guess so."

You begin telling jokes and stories about the recent classes you've taught. The newly arriving team saw you showing them a sample of a choreography, you probably made. You looked so happy and smiled brightly as you moved for them, not going all out to save energy. A smile frames Bada’s face as she takes a seat, comparing your energy to a child showing off a piece of candy they got.

Rather than the serious personality you showed when you first came in, you did a 180, displaying your doe eyes and bunny smile. "Oh, Audrey, I've meaning to say how big of a fan I am of your dancing."

Bada's thoughts stray away as she can't help but keep her eyes locked on your figure.

She wasn't gonna lie to herself. You are super attractive as you carry yourself with confidence and assertiveness.

The genes were strong, too. You looked like the female version of your brother, which was a given, but your nose just seemed a bit smaller and your lips were evidently plumper. From the eyes down to the smile and even tattoos that she could see, you were almost a carbon copy of him.

"Oo~ our teacher has some interest in the leader of Aesthete," Tatter teases, and Bada scoffs. "I'm just realizing how much she looks like Jungkook-nim."

"You got that right," Tatter says, and Minah butts in, "As hot as him too." The girls giggle at her comment, but they can't help but agree. "She's so cool," Cheche says.

You begin to raise the sleeves of your flannel, out of habit, as you continue your chat with Jam Republic and team Bebe's eyes widen. You had a few minimal tattoos on your left arm, but your right arm was what caught their attention.

Inked on your arm was a full sleeve covering your forearms and down to your hands. The tattoos were all in a delicate art style, but as they covered your entire arm, the combination was badass. It did suit you, but now your adorable image was flipped upside down in Bada’s mind.

If only you saw her gaze. It looked like she wanted to do unimaginable things to you, but in a quick flash, she realizes the setting she’s in and shakes her head a bit.

"She looks like she would beat someone up," Tatter mumbles, but Bada can't help but think your face doesn't match your body. You had innocent doe eyes and a cute smile while your body looked ready for a boxing match, from the tattoos down to your noticeable muscles. "The Jeon bloodline must be strong," Minah mumbles, but everyone agrees.

The rest of the crews begin entering, and you wave off the girls, returning to your team.

"Whoever is battling first better hype up the entire crowd. My hands are literally sweating right now," Ling says, but you side-eye her with a questioning stare. Emma noticed this, nudging Ling in your direction, causing the two of them to laugh.

Once they commence the battles, everyone gets nervous. "The first no-respect battle is... 1Million Redy."

Your gaze follows Redy as she comes down from her spot. "The person I pick as the weakest dancer is..." She teases the crowd, approaching Deep N Dap or Lady Bounce. Redy then does a complete reverse and stands before the light blue team, "Bada of Bebe."

An obnoxious squeal could be heard, and you covered your ears at the sudden pitch. Looking over your shoulder to see it was Heaven, your eyes grow wide. You never knew that sound could come from her body, as she was always the quiet one on the team.

"THE Bada Lee dancing? Take my money now." Enyo rolls her eyes and slaps her, "Dude, don't be embarrassing us...Have some dignity, please."

Your chuckle pulls the two girls out of their tiny argument, and they continue to pay attention. If Bada got Heaven to react that way, you knew you had to pay attention to her in this battle. The younger girl barely gives anyone a reaction but her members, yet here she was, fangirling over Bebe's leader.

You look over and see the taller woman nod her head. "Redy of 1Million picks Bada of Bebe as the worst dancer."

"I just don't respect you," Redy ends straight and clear. "That's it."

Bada slightly paces and smirks, "Not Redy. Soobin. You're still an eighth grader to me." You smile at the comment, feeling the hype after the comments. "Whaaaa~ unnie. This. Is. Amazing." Lyn jumps up and down as she holds onto your shoulders, keeping her balanced. You stayed seated as the battle began and couldn't help but stare at Bada. Her cold face would get countered by her confident personality.

Redy dances, and you nod your head ever so often. While the battle continues, you feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

You look across the stage and around until you see the pair of eyes that cause your alertness. It was Manequeen's own Barbie doll, Redlic. Your attention was back to the dance where you see Bada about to begin.

Your eyes travel all over her body as she teases the younger girl with her dance, the grinding, body rolls, the taunting? You loved seeing it all. She dominated the stage as a one-man act, and you applaud her for that, which she notices and bows. That was the first time you gave someone a reaction as you all filmed, so she felt good about her performance.

"Cards are open in 3! 2! 1!"

The judges flipped their cards quickly, showing Bebe winning 3:0. Monika picked up the mic and told Redy, "Compared to Bada, you did dance like an eighth grader." Saying it in a casual tone made even you feel hurt.

Everyone sits, and the following battle is about to occur, "Mannaqueen's Redlic, please take the stage."

She wastes no time, walking up to your crew and giving you a seductive look. "The dancer I pick with no respect is Jeon Y/n." You smirk at this and grab your mic.

"Redlic, why did you choose Y/n as the no-respect dancer?"

"I wanted to see if she could set the stage on fire with me on it," causing a very evident chuckle to come out of you. "I can. I can even make it burn," you say confidently.

"Alright, the fight shall begin!"

When it begins, Redlic starts feeling up her body to "Needed Me" by Rihanna and swaying her body. She gets closer to you, going around and shaking her ass in front of you, causing you to bite your lips at her antics. You’d never deny a beautiful woman making moves on you, even if it was just for her dance.

She adds some floor work and ensures she shows out using all her space. Redlic had you entranced for some time, and before you knew it, it was your turn, "3! 2! 1! Switch!"

Your song was "Or Nah" by Ty Dolla $ign, and as you begin, you take off your jacket, revealing your sleeveless white top, and everyone's eyes go wide seeing your arms and full tattoos. You were starting to look like a hot commodity on stage, and Redlic couldn't help but lick her lips at the sight.

Behind you, Bada was still trying to gather herself after her battle, but her face flushed again once you removed your flannel. She felt her body heating up and hoped to cover up her reactions by hiding behind her hands.

You grind on the floor, body rolling on Redlic's body while kneeling, then pull yourself up. You did some ticking moves and mixed in some slow motion in there. As you slow-mo a hip-grabbing movement, you go into a motion of locking and popping. Then, slide on the floor, adding a flip to finish your sensual dance.

Bada stares, the hardest she probably ever has, and you lock eyes for a second. Seeing her face and body language formed a sly grin on your face, making her look away, now blushing furiously. She can’t even keep her head in the game when she hears your win of 3:0 against Redlic.

"Unnie?" Lusher stares at her leader, who follows the direction of her eyes, and laughs at the realization. "Unnie, this isn't like you at all!" The sub-leader claps as she laughs, and Bada can't do anything but tell her to shut up, which only causes her to laugh harder.

After a few more battles, you could all take a 30-minute break before resuming.

Everyone sat down chatting, and you were again talking to Jam Republic. You and Audrey had tied 3 times in battle until they decided you won your last match. "Dude, I need to know how you did that neck-breaking move," you ask Audrey, and she giggles shyly. "Let me show you."

She shows you the move, and as you copy it perfectly, she claps for you, "Yes! Well, you got it, fast girl." You laugh at her and talk about her first dance battle. "Man, the first bone-breaking move was insane."

"Which one?"

"Oh, uh, this one," You show the move she hits during "Low" by Flo Rida. Audrey begins jumping excitedly, almost fangirling for you, even if it was her own move. Everyone in the studio notices your interaction with JR and gossip about it.

"I saw them talking before, so they must know each other."

"Well, I'm pretty sure Y/n has taught a class with Latirce and Kristen before, so it's unsurprising."

You make more friends and move to Bebe, who doesn't notice your presence. That was until Kyma looked like she'd seen a ghost in front of her, causing them to look behind and gasp, seeing you standing there in front of them.

"Hey," was the only thing that came out of your mouth, yet all of the Bebe members stared at you like you had just told them the most remarkable speech on the planet. Well, everyone other than Bada.

She stared at you with enticing eyes, and you quickly took notice of her motive. Regarding the No-respect battles, you had already danced in 5, most girls explaining it was just for fun. In every action you participated in, your eyes met with Bada's, and you never knew what ran through that head of hers as you couldn't even think while dancing.

But you figured it out now.

"Ah, Y/n-nim, I'm a big fan," Minah bows, and you wave your arms, trying to deny any praise. "You're an excellent dancer, no need to deny it. Pretty face and stage present too," Tatter says, mumbling the last part, but you heard it. Your hand guides Tatter's head to face you, and you smile, "If I'm pretty, you're gorgeous."

Her face turns bright red, and you pat her head, finding it cute. You then see a familiar face amongst the crew, "Lusher, it's been a while since you've been to one of my classes." The sub-leader's face is full of embarrassment for being called out. "Don't worry, I'm not mad about it," you tell her, and Lusher's tense body relaxes.

"I've just been more focused on Bebe the past year, but maybe after the show, you'd let me back in?"

"You're always welcome at my place. Any of you are, honestly. Nothing wrong with expanding your horizons in dance." You announce, but Bada scoffs a little. "This feels a bit insulting to me. I am their teacher, you know."

You had no ill intent behind your comment, but you wanted to tease her, "You can always join me too. I'm sure you'll be my number one student."

The two's faces are just inches away, both having a condescending smirk on their faces. Members of Bebe look at each other, feeling the intensity of their stares, but their eyes go large at your pitched idea.

"How do you think about this? After the show, we collaborate in a choreography and class, and then we can dance together. No competition needed." Your fingers then point to your crew and Bada's crew, "We can all dance together."

You were now leaning your arms on the bench, Bada sitting between your sleeveless arms. Lusher and Tatter can't help but giggle at the sight. It was like a fox versus a fox.

"Sure, but I don't know if I can wait that long to be a top student again." You read the subtly in her voice, implying something you couldn't put your finger on. You lick your lips at her gaze and grin.

"Win two more battles, and I'll take my top student out to dinner?'

Bebe's eyes widen again in shock. Never seen Bada's eyes look so mischievous as they did now.

"Deal~"

A/n: The ending feels super lacking on this one, but I might make a part 2 to satisfy myself😭.

-sivine

[wutheringcaterpillar]

To Have and To Hold

Requested by @furrypaintermiracle

warnings: noncon, dark!cillian, financial/emotional abuse, grooming kind of (reader is inexperienced and 20, Cillian is 47), gaslighting, forced pregnancy, somewhat slow build, Cillian is single with no kids

Summary: Cillian catches the eye of a woman that seems to be much younger than him and he is determined to build the perfect love story even if that means isolating you from your family and friends and convincing you he is the perfect man.

Author’s note: I’d like to reiterate everyone is of age, there is no pedophilia and I don’t condone writing it. Nor is this story in association with Cillian’s real life.

To Have and To Hold 

It was a cold wintery night in the small town you lived in, people were roaming the streets holding their hot chocolates and coffees, some wrapped around with their lovers, some with friends. It seemed like the only time family could potentially come together. 

“Y/N look!” You friend Makayla pointed up at the shooting star in the sky.

“Make a wish!” You closed your eyes gently, yet playfully as you inhaled and exhaled as if that would make the wish become any more true.

You excused yourself to the near coffee booth that caught your eye and senses, not being able to resist the sweet smell of caramel any longer.

Snow began to fall delicately from the soft, hazy clouds on top of your hat, intertwining with strands of your hair. 

Once you exchanged the money, the kind lady whom was very soft spoken handed you your coffee, insisting that she’d hope you’d have a great night. 

You thanked her kindly before turning and bumping into a stranger, knocking some napkins out of his hand.

“Oh, so sorry! Always seem to be a cluts around this time of year, I like to blame it on the ice.” You laughed nervously, sliding a strand of hair behind your ear while your cheeks heated red from embarrassment.

“Oh don’t be concerned, we all have accidents here and there, nothing to keep you awake at night I hope.” The man spoke rather calmly, his voice deep with a hint of sincerity.

His hand reached out, insisting on helping you up from your state.

“Oh, thank you.” You smiled softly, but once you looked up to see this mysterious man, his baby blue eyes drew you in, and the way his lips looked plush, and inviting as they formed a warm smile. 

It was very apparent this man was older than you by the small yet visible age lines, and the way he spoke in a decent, charming manner.

He too couldn’t help but notice your kindness and how soft your voice sounded, almost angelic to his ears.

You hummed awkwardly, breaking your eye contact and looking around, spotting your friends sitting at a bench staring and giggling at the scene unfolding before them.

“I’m Cillian.” His voice had you spinning back around to him instantly. His hand was held out in a welcoming matter, to which you obliged.

“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” 

“Well Y/N, what are you doing saturday night? If you don’t mind me asking that is?” You couldn’t stop yourself from blushing, all words seeming to run from your mind at the realization, the possibility this older, yet attractive man could be asking you on a date.

“Ugh, n-nothing. Why do you ask?” 

“I’d like to take you on a date, well multiple dates. Can’t have a beautiful girl like you get lost in the water now can I?” It didn’t take you long to respond with an answer.

“Yes! I mean um- sure.” You were so bad at this, not having much experience. He handed you his phone and you typed your number in creating a new contact. You couldn’t help but notice the amount of contacts with womens names but you brushed it aside. He was older so clearly he knew more people than you.

“5 o’clock work? At the chaplin park?” You nodded with a contained excitement.

“I will see you then, after all your friends can’t stop staring at us. I have an idea.” Before you could ask what, his arm slid behind your shoulders respectfully, as he walked you back to your friends across the street.

The faces they were making were priceless, mouths open in astonishment.

“Hello, sorry for keeping Y/N from you. I couldn’t help but take an interest in your fascinating friend and I couldn’t have her crossing the street alone, you never know what type of men are out on the streets. Enjoy the rest of your night, I will see you saturday.” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your hand that almost had your eyes fluttering to the back of your head.

His lips felt warm, and soft when they touched you skin just how you imagined.

Butterflies formed in your stomach as the man abid you a do, fading in the distance of the crowd of people.

You were in disbelief that such a handsome, well dressed man asked you out on a date, the very first. 

You and your friends stayed chatting the rest of the night wanting the full details and you attempted to explain in a collected way but you had your moments of excitement.

~

When saturday rolled around, your stomach felt like it was in knots, your nerves building more and more until you pulled into the park.

You were about to text him what kind of car he was driving and to your surprise you glanced up and noticed him stepping out of a car that was clearly brand new, as it shined with luxurious features.

Your jaw wanted to drop but instead you checked yourself once more in the mirror, still not being able to see what he could possibly want with a lower class woman like yourself.

The wind blew threw his hair as he walked toward your car, his hair flowing ever so slightly from the small breeze, the sun shining straight into his crystal blue eyes, it was like a scene out of a movie.

Internally you felt like you were going to combust inside when he reached your door opening it for you.

“Hi, how’ve you been?” He asked as if you hadn’t been texting constantly leading up to this very moment.

He extended his hand like the first day he met you, assisting you out of your old piece of junk car, to which he seemed not to care or notice.

“I’ve been good, dealing with school and bills, y’know?” You laughed anxiously, and concern seemed to etch it’s way through his face slightly. Not from how you were acting but the possibility of your financial woes being terrible. It wasn’t safe.

“So how old are you? I know you must be over eighteen if you’re in college.” You nodded as the two of you began walking toward a trail.

“Oh I’ve just turned twenty about a month ago, you?” Cillian couldn’t stop himself from whole heartedly laughing, holding his stomach.

“My dear I’m forty-seven, nonetheless that doesn’t change my interest in you. Tell me about yourself, please.” 

“Well I’ve just begun college, I’m very close with my family and I know you may not believe it but I’ve never had a boyfriend, yet alone been asked out.” Cillian stopped you mid stride, acting like he was in disbelief when in reality he could tell from the awkwardness, and the way you seemed embarrassed to be yourself, that’s where he had an advantage. He wasn’t attracted to you solely based off looks, it was your mannerisms the way you still seemed so new to adulthood he’d be your first relationship and he was getting to that age where he was looking to settle down.

“If I may, those bloats who didn’t ask you on a date are quite idiotic but I suppose that’s a grand thing or else I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to meet such a smart, young woman.” He knew how to charm, smirking to himself when he watched your rosy cheeks blush.

The two of you walked, chatting about where you were from, your family life, difference in childhoods and upbringing, hobbies. All of the starter conversations to get to know somebody. 

Much to your surprise he lived in Dublin and he was in the states because of work which you hadn’t asked about quite yet, but it obviously paid him well.

The thought that he could be gone tomorrow though worried you, were you already going to experience heartbreak so soon? Why did he ask you on a date, and hint at multiple dates.

You stopped near a fenced off area right above a cliff, the two of you alone together taking in the scenery, listening to the humming of birds and the wind. 

Beyond the cliff displayed a different part of the forest, a pond in the center of it fulfilled with ducks swimming peacefully whilst deer lay contently a few meters away from the pond. The clear blue sky and the sun shining down on the animals painted a beautiful picture that took your breath away, and brought you both a sense of peace as you enjoyed a moment of silence

His hand brushed against your arm, causing you to turn to him in your giddy state.

His arms opened unexpectedly and awaited for the motion to be corespondent.

When you had leaned into his touch he was warm, smelling of ivory and teakwood as he held you innocently from behind, warming your body with that butterfly feeling, the knots slowly dissipating.

His arms curled around your stomach contently and for some reason it almost felt right.

After the few moments of silence you broke away, ready to walk again.

“Well what about you? What do you do for a living?” You began walking once more through the dirt trail inbetween the trees.

He inhaled deeply feeling refreshed that a woman he was interested in knew nothing of his existence.

“I know you may not believe it and I urge you not to run to the internet and research but I’m an actor. I make decent money and I enjoy my job very much just not the public part.” Your eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief but your parents always raised you not to judge a book by it’s cover, not to make assumptions and really get to know a person first.

“Do you have to travel a lot?” 

“I do but I’ve really been wanting to settle down and here you are. You really caught my eye Y/N. The first glance I was at a loss for words and had to grow the strength in me to ask you on a date. I hope my career doesn’t steer you away, I may travel but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t bring you. Of course there would be circumstances where I can’t.” Sure, you completely understood that. A part of you couldn’t help but want to be indulged in his world, and have a partner to travel the world with.

“Well, I have always wanted to see the world, and I really want to say I wouldn’t rush to the internet. That wouldn’t be me getting to know you it would be others telling me what they think about a person they’ve never met.” He nodded gracefully, his dimples appearing softly on his delicate cheeks as a small smile crept onto his face.

The rest of the walk the minutes turned into hours where you both discussed insecurities, fears, hopes and dreams and the conversation seemed to lead itself which was a good sign to you that made you feel hopeful that maybe this would go somewhere as did he.

~

The next few months you had found yourself living with Cillian in his house in Dublin that probably was worth more than your college tuition combined with everything you’ve ever owned in life.

Maybe you should’ve put more thought into it before making such a drastic life decision but any reason you came up with not to move out of the country Cillian seemed to have a better response and solution to your worries, giving you no reason to decline.

The first month he bought you a car, and insisted on paying for your insurance and college tuition. He was patient, driving you around town and the outstanding areas to help you get to know the area. As much as you tried to decline his financial help he wouldn’t take no for an answer. You were beyond grateful and he held up to his word that he would take you traveling when he could.

The biggest problem you seemed to face together so far was your parents, who did not approve of this relationship whatsoever.

Your mom was overly concerned you were falling for Cillian too quickly, and made comments here and there about how a man in his line of work wanted one thing and that was a playmate for when they were bored.

Your father hadn’t liked him for some of the same reasons and he pointed out your finances worried him. Allowing Cillian to take over your bills, and transfer them to his name was beyond stupid he thought because what if you guys got into a disagreement? What if he decided to stop paying them. He also did not want his celebrity status to change your thoughts or the way you acted, he didn’t want you to feel like you had to pretend to be somebody you weren’t.

The only one thing that your parents seemed to agree with was when they met Cillian he was very polite, didn’t disclose any form of pda. He even shook your father’s hand, and went on calling them both maam and sir and offered to pay the bill for dinner but when they declined he didn’t push any further as he didn’t want to offend them.

It was a small stepping stone that you’d cross and bare through together.

His parents were actually quite lovely, and adored you and your American accent.

They wanted to know all about you, and kept asking Cillian where he had been hiding you. To them age was just a number and love was love, you couldn’t put a price on that.

The days he was away filming he would facetime you at the end of the day, answering any questions or concerns you might have and offer any help he could to ensure your safety, happiness, and peace.

He even helped you in school where he could, he was quite intelligent.

He truly was the man of your dreams and would surprise you when he’s away with lavish gifts and respected your wishes to wait until marriage to have sex.

He never brought it up after that, and as far as your worries about the women in his contacts he had introduced you to each and every one as they were all either family members or directors and producers, some co-stars that he worked with and nothing seemed inappropriate or bothered you.

It was almost like you were living in a fairytale.

~

It had only been three months into the relationship when Cillian decided to take the next step and now here he was at dinner with you and your family once more, awaiting for the right moment to talk to your parents privately.

When he was filming in Birmingham, he had took the time to look for a ring, a twenty four karat ring at that, it was silver and had an almost blush pink diamond heart in the center of it. How much he’d spent he’d keep to himself.

When you excused yourself to the restroom Cillian took this as the opportunity to do so.

“I um- I have a topic of conversation I’ve been wanting to discuss with the both of you and I think now would be a great time.” Your mother cut into her steak, prodding him to go on while your dad was pouring himself a glass of wine and raised his eyebrows.

“I want to ask Y/N to marry me, with your blessing of course.” Your mother nearly choked on her food and your father set the bottle down rather aggressively before answering almost instantly.

“No. You absolutely do not have our blessing.” Cillian’s tongue roamed to the side of his cheek as he looked between the both of them slightly irritated but hiding it.

“I don’t understand you won’t allow me to take your daughter’s hand in marriage. Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking?” Cillian was at a crossroads, his thumb dragging across his bottom lip in confusion of where he could have possibly went wrong that your parents would not like him.

“You’re nearly thirty years older than my daughter. This is just a phase, she has a career, a whole life to live and you think I’m going to allow her to throw it away for some actor who moved her across the world?” Ah, so that’s what this was, it had nothing to do with how well he treated you, but it had to do with the components that shouldn’t matter. 

“Sir, with all do respect. I’m paying for her college tuition now. Am I not?” Your father went silent, taking a sip from his glass of wine while your mother was holding her tongue.

“I have a roof over her head, I bought her a reliable, safe car and I love her very much. She’s an adult she could have said no to moving in with me. Our age and my career should have nothing to do with the fact that I’m in love with your daughter and she’s in love with me much to your dismay.” Your father went to speak but stopped when they heard the bathroom door open.

When you approached the table it was clear something was said, and you assumed it to be your dad. “Is everything alright?” You took your seat next to Cillian once more and he settled his hand on top of yours in front of your parents tracing your fingers delicately.

“Everything’s great love, your father was just saying how proud of you he is. You know going to school, focusing on your career, finding a man who cares and supports you.”

The night went on swimmingly to your knowledge and you finally felt as if there was some peace between your relationship and family. All you’d ever wanted was for your parents to be proud of you and see you for your accomplishments. Though there may had been a rough patch once Cillian came into the picture it seemed like the pieces were finally starting to come together as a whole.

~

Becoming more impatient by the minute with your parents, as much as he wanted their approval he’d realized he wasn’t going to obtain it anytime in the near future. So he took matters into his own hands.

“You all packed love?” You nodded excitedly, rushing over to him, pulling him into a death grip of a hug, trying your best not to break him.

“I can’t believe we’re going to Bali, I’ve been wanting to go my whole life! And now I can go with a person I love very much. I just feel bad I couldn’t really pitch in with the funds.” You mumbled against his chest those last few words.

Cillian rolled his eyes, gently tearing you off of him forcing you to lock eyes with him.

“Darling, I love you. I want you to focus on your school so you can get the degree in the field you love. I have more than enough money for the both of us so please, let me spoil my princess as I adore to.” You leaned up kissing him softly on the lips in a deep passionate kiss, but pulled away as your standards for yourself still remained, not until marriage.

“Now let’s go before we miss our private flight.” You followed his lead and he insisted on carrying your suitcases.

The flight was rather long and Cillian couldn’t help but notice the position you had fallen asleep in on the love seat. 

Your legs were spread open, breasts flowing freely almost slipping from your tanktop. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last not having sex.

He need to have sex, he needed to be inside you. He groaned and readjusted himself when you shifted in your sleep, worried that you’d wake up and see his hardened member forming a wet spot on his pants.

The perks of being a celebrity was he could get anyone he wanted, and though he liked the hard to get act, it was getting old for him.

The sun was setting when you finally arrived, Cillian waking you up sweetly with a kiss to your temple.

After he gave you a moment to wake up he guided you to your destination.

Unlocking the door, if eyes could drool yours would be at this very moment.

There was a skylight in the ceiling, a coy pond directly in the center of your private living space, the water reflecting off the moonlight that was making it’s way in.

The sounds of nature was all you could hear, there was no television or phones, just you and Cillian in a complete, fairytale like oasis. 

The house he had rented was say directly at the top of a hill, with a view of the ocean, the sounds of the waves suddenly making you feel tired once more.

“Oh my gosh, this is lovely! This is beautiful Cilly!” As long as you were happy that was all that matters, that was all he needed for his proposal to work in his favor.

~

The following morning you had awoke to smell of bacon and eggs, the fresh summer breeze blowing in gently through the opened doorway.

When you walked toward the smell that lead you to the kitchen, was dressed with an almost too elegant tablecloth. All of your favorite fruits and foods on display while he was finishing the rest of breakfast. “Good morning sweetheart, I hope the mimosas are to your liking.” You tiptoed toward him, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind, placing a sweet chaste kiss on his warm neck.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“Come.” He walked you out toward the balcony and you found yourself unable to stop smiling, one thing Cillian was very good at was surprises, he had never gotten you something you hadn’t loved or talked about.

“Don’t open them yet.” He released you, watching your shielded eyes carefully, making sure you don’t sneak a peak.

Checking his attire, he patted down his shirt before getting down on one knee, retrieving the expensive ring from within his pocket.

He took a deep breath, putting on his charm as he decided in his head on what act would be best to get you to say yes, though he really believed there was no chance of you turning him down in the little amount of time it took for him to have you wrapped around his finger.

“Open your eyes love.” 

You gasped in surprise, your hand coming up to cover your lips in disbelief as your eyes glistened in the sunshine, purely lovestruck.

“Y/N L/N, would you do me the honour of taking my last name and becoming my beautiful, beloved wife?” Tears of happiness crept through your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you stared into his ocean eyes, glancing back down at the silver, magnanimous diamond ring.

“Yes! Yes a million times yes!” He smiled widely as his arm moved, his fingers curling around the ring carefully taking the expensive ring out of it’s snug place in the box before placing it delicately onto your finger.

His hands lay gently on your hips as he stood up, caressing your tear stained cheeks

~

Your parents never responded to the wedding invitation and Cillian could tell it was breaking your heart. Scooping you up from where you sat on the sofa, he pulled you into his loving arms, caressing your back gently as you cried into his shoulder.

“Darling, they’ll come around. They will.” In his mind, he didn’t understand how your parents could be so cruel, and block your number, not even willing to support you on one of the biggest moments in your life, the number one thing most women looked forward to and he was going to use that to his advantage.

Your tears began to form a small puddle in the crook of his neck, dampening the shirt he was wearing but he didn’t mind.

“Hey.” He spoke with sincerity, pushing you softly away from him so you were still sitting on his lap, but facing him.

“Oh, my love.” His eyebrows furrowed together with a pained expression as his thumb glided over you teary cheeks once he saw your face.

“Don’t let them ruin this okay? They will realize how much they’re hurting you, we just have to be patient, alright?” You nodded, attempting to stop from crying.

He watched you with endearing eyes, hands still placed on your cheeks.

Your chest was beginning to fall back to a normal pace as his touch and loving words were beginning to calm you down immensely.

“And if they don’t come around, well fuck them. If they don’t want you to be happy and can’t put our differences aside, maybe it’d be better off to not have them in your life sweetheart. You’ll always have my parents who love you very much.” Maybe he was right, maybe you did have terrible parents. How could a father not want to walk his daughter down the aisle on the most important day of her life and how could your mother not be excited for you, surely she was excited and had help and support when she married your father.

Regardless you knew Cillian’s parents would always be there and maybe this was for the best.

~

Within the following weeks Cillian hired an assistant to help you plan out the wedding that was set for June so everything would be to your standards.

He needed you to have the perfect day, for everything to be exactly how you visioned.

Walking in the door he noticed you were seated comfortably at the kitchen island, three boards layed out in front of you with different color schemes and a notebook.

“I’m home love.” He approached you from behind, smelling of mint and cashmere as he settled a kiss on top of your head.

“How is the wedding planning going?” Cillian himself couldn’t deny your creativity, all three boards looked amazing and it wasn’t difficult to see the amount of time you spent on them.

“Well, everything is about settled, I can’t believe how fast we planned all of this, it almost seemed to easy but maybe it’s just because I know what I want and love, just like how I feel for you.” He hummed adoringly against your head.

“Well if you’re struggling I like the third one, seems more subtle.” Even though you were leaning more toward the second you followed his word. Aside from the fact he was older he probably knew more about planning and such big events more than you did.

~

When June rolled around, you stared in the mirror, waiting for your cue to walk down the aisle.

Nerves were getting the best of you and your emotions seemed to be scattered. It was hard to imagine you were about to marry the love of your life and no one you knew other than Cillian’s family and friends were attending.

Yes, they loved you deeply but a part of you still had wished your family at least would have set their differences aside to be here for you on your big day.

Instead they’d be sitting at home probably renovating your room, or out with friends anything to take their mind off of their disappointment of a daughter.

“Y/N, they’re ready.” 

When you walked out, the sight of Cillian stood at the altar nearly took your breath away as he stood, watching you in awe but kept his emotions in tact.

His hands stayed folded in front of him while a soft smile spread across his lips.

Your bridesmaids ended up being a few of his cousins who also didn’t know you very well but they had been very supportive and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

~

Every morning since you stared at your ring in awe but it seemed like Cillian had become distant. It had now been a month since you were married and anytime you brought it up to him it was dismissed that you were overthinking.

What had you done wrong? Why wasn’t he as loving anymore? Was it something you said? Were you too immature? 

It was all to much and was tiring you out having this constant anxiety around him, thinking you’d done something terrible or he was going to ask for a divorce.

He went as far too sleep in the spare room now, every once in awhile asking for sex but you still hadn’t felt comfortable just yet and that annoyed Cillian very much. How was he supposed to get off, expect to be loyal to you when you won’t make love with him. That was his problem he wasn’t patient anymore and always seems to be in a bad mood, especially when you wore revealing clothing on vacation or just around the house.

He still stayed paying all of your bills but he insisted that college wasn’t necessary anymore, why did you need it when you had him? Why did you need a social life when you had him?

The topic wasn’t up for debate in your eyes so he let it go.

Awaking from your nap, you didn’t hear the television anymore, had he left you alone there?

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you reached to the bedside table for your phone to call him but your hand grasped nothing but air. 

Stepping down from the bed, your feet patted on the floor, your fuzzy socks keeping them warm from the hardwood floor.

Stumbling into the living room you spotted Cillian seated on the sofa, reading a book while your phone lay unlocked and open besides him.

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know you tell me.” When he spoke his tone was low to the point that you could tell something was wrong, he was upset with you.

“Cillian, what’s wrong?” As you sat down on the comforting cushion, reaching for your phone he pulled it away from you, holding it away almost as if it were a toy.

“Who’s Christian, and why do you have plans with him tonight? You didn’t even bother to ask me.” Ask him? Why would you need to have his approval to make plans with your friends. You could see why he’d be bothered he’s a male friend of yours that he hadn’t met yet, closer to your age, and you couldn’t introduce him tonight since he had a press conference to attend.

“He’s in my forensics class, he’s really kind and I was planning on introducing you to him and-“

“When? Because you’ve been chatting for weeks, never heard you bring up this man’s name once.” He stood up from the couch, tossing his book on the table as he strode annoyed to the kitchen.

You were at a loss for words but still found yourself following him like a lost puppy, worried for your marriage.

“Cillian I-“

“You’re not going. I hope you can realize how inappropriate this is. Did you even think about me and the way I would feel. I’m a high profiled person Y/N, far more older than you and my career loves to prod at our marriage. You being out with him alone in public, while I’m at a conference, what do you think that’s going to do to my reputation. Or did your mindless twenty year old brain not think that far.” You crossed your arms defeatedly. Maybe he had a point, you didn’t stop to think about the career or the press, you’d forgotten that you were married to a celebrity, one that does not like his personal life being involved with the public.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I guess I’m still learning how to adjust to publicity, and just being married in general. You know you are my first relationship Cillian.” His mood changed, his shoulders unstiffening as he slid your phone back to you over the countertop.

“I think it’d be best to delete your social media.” You nodded in agreement but your brain was telling you not to abide by his rules or feelings. You were still young but maybe he had a point that this was just some young, silly phase that you needed to grow out of. 

If you were old enough for marriage you surely didn’t need social media, but were you ready to delete everything you knew?

Glancing up at him, he watched you intently, his arms crossed while he leaned back against the refrigerator.

You tapped on your phone deleting the applications,  showing Cillian the screen once you were done.

“Satisfied?” He smiled gracefully, his demeanor now seemed calm as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms almost too tightly around your waist.

“I am, now how about we go to the wardrobe and see what gown we can find for you tonight eh? Does that sound good?” He snuggled his nose into the crook of your neck, one of your many tickle spots causing you to giggle and nuzzle back against him, completely ignoring what had just happened.

~

Taking a seat at your table as the questions went by for the new season of Peaky Blinders, your phone vibrated on the table. While Tom was answering a question Cillian’s eyes glanced down at the notification, his jaw tightening when he saw it was Christian once more, asking for an answer on a time.

Noticing his reaction anxiety filled your chest and you tried your best to act like nothing was happening just as he was.

Folding his hands underneath his chin, he settled his attention back on the people, smiling respectfully as if he saw nothing like the flick of a switch.

The tension was clear that there would be an argument when you arrived home. 

The rest of the night Cillian charmed his way through, acting calm and collected, talking with such charisma you were starting to wander in your mind of what the argument was even about.

There were a few questions here and there about your marriage to which Cillian would simply respond with, “She’s always been my number one supporter and we look forward to our future together. That’s all I have to say.” He politely disregarded the age difference questions, or any questions that involved anything other than the show at hand.

He kept his pda to a minimum not going any further than his arms behind your shoulder or settled innocently on your side.

He really was a private man and would go to any extent to keep it that way.

~

The ride home his demeanor had changed, he didn’t talk to you once, nor did he even take one singular glance your way. Even when you attempted conversation you got nothing in return. You felt at a disadvantage, like you were messing up your marriage.

Maybe you weren’t mature enough just yet, maybe you did jump in too fast, you still hadn’t given in to your word about sex yet and it had been a month you’ve been officially married. What if he found it elsewhere? What if he thinks you’re finding it elsewhere, possibly with Christian. Anxiety fulfilled you entirely, the fear of losing Cillian worried you, how were you supposed to live without him in your life? How would you pay your bills when you hadn’t been working? Was he going to ask for a divorce?

Putting the car in park, he stepped out of the car, walking rather hurriedly to your side, opening the door and grasping your forearm forcing you out and inside the house. He was beginning to frighten you as he had never handled you with such violence before.

Once the door closed behind you couldn’t stop the tears from brimming at your eyelids.

“Why is he still texting you? Hm? I thought we were past this?” You sucked up your tears and tried your best to hold them back as you tossed your purse onto the sofa.

“Cillian I told you he’s just a friend! I want you to meet him please! I haven’t talked to my friends from home since we began dating and he’s the only friend I have made out here! I-“ He silenced you by putting his hand, before approaching you slowly, determination and anger filling his eyes. 

“No, no. Listen to me, when guys have friends that are girls, they want them to believe that they’d never fuck them when in reality they’re only friends with you so they can be the first one to swoop you up and spread your legs to make you fell better when a relationship falls a part. This isn’t a relationship this is a marriage and I’ll be damned if this little fucker thinks that he has a chance with you when you won’t even give in to me when I’ve given you absolutely everything!” His words struck a nerve and you hated that when you were mad or angry you’d begin to cry.

You turned your back on him, heading toward the bedroom to where he followed you instantly.

“May I need not remind you it is my name on that car, it is my bank account connected to your college funding, you are on my health insurance and you wouldn’t be able to afford any of it without me. Block his number and get rid of him, it’s the least you can do when I have done so much more for you!” When you didn’t budge you stared at him blankly, not recognizing who he was anymore.

This wasn’t the Cillian you had fallen in love with, this wasn’t the kind, respectable man who claimed to love you.

His eyebrows raised expectantly glancing down at the phone in your hand. When you didn’t do anything but stand there like a child who had just gotten yelled at and told no, he decided that enough was enough.

Walking forward, each step contained an enormous amount of fury as he snatched the phone from your hands. When you attempted to reach for it he grabbed your wrist, gripping the skin tightly to where you knew not to fight him.

Opening the conversation, he paid close attention to the emojis and noting the sentences this man has said to you.

“Hope you’ve had a great day🥰”

“Just checking in on you.”

“I assume we need to reschedule our study date for another time then.” 

Then the final one that really made him upset, the one he sent at the conference.

“Please check in with me so I know you’re doing well, I want to make sure you do great on this test😊” 

He scoffed and laughed darkly in disbelief before his eyes reverted back to you. 

“Well why don’t we get rid of your little boy toy here for good, shall we?” Before you had time to react he turned you around, forcefully bending you over the bed onto the satin sheets.

“I-I’m not ready, please, Cillian don’t do this!” His mind was too far gone. He had resisted temptation for too long, the way you dressed and talked like nothing you did affected him.

He knew you wouldn’t tell anyone, who could you tell? Your friends were convinced you left them in the dust as you hadn’t talked to them in almost a year, your parents wanted nothing to do with you once you married him and went to the lengths of blocking your number. He had you solely isolated and reliant on him, emotionally, financially, and now sexually. You just didn’t know that last part quite yet.

He slid your dress up harshly revealing the tight, nearly see through black panties you were wearing, that hugged your ass cheeks tightly, holding your pussy snuggly in the fabric. 

The phone was tossed to the side, you could hear the screen shattering on the floor as he stepped on it with hatred.

“I did my waiting. I’ve given you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted and it is my turn to receive some pleasure from this marriage.” His knee came up, pushing your legs a part, resting against your heat. As one of his hands held your small wrists in a grip that you knew you wouldn’t be able to wiggle out of.

His free hand undid his belt, the sound forcing tears to escape your tired eyes.

“What kind of a wife do you think you are? Because it’s not what one should be. Hiding other men from me, galloping around like you don’t owe me any pleasure or respect.” His armed swayed back, and down again the harsh leather slapping loudly against  your sensitive, delicate skin, forcing a cry to escape from your lips.

Another painful bow after another one and it brought him enjoyment to see you suffering beneath him, crying relentlessly as your ass cheeks turned a deep shade of red. 

The endless lashing as he spewed venom above had your chest rising and falling dramatically from the harsh reality this is whom you chose to marry. Your parents were right, you weren’t mature enough for marriage you weren’t ready for such a commitment and now you had no way out.

Flipping you over onto your back, his hand gripped your side, pulling your body aggressively toward him.

His member released from underneath the smooth fabric if his pants, popping up against his chest effortlessly. 

He was big, surely that wouldn’t fit in you would it?

Grasping at the sheets, attempting to get away from him his nails dug into your hips.

“I thought you’d like this Y/N, you crave attention from other men, anyone who would give you the time of the day. You’re nothing but a tease, a slut. Thinking you could disrespect me eh?” His hair hung over his forehead as his animalistic nature took over his entire being.

The sight of your young, beautiful, unflawed body sent thrills up his spine, his adrenaline pumping through his veins knowing that he’d be the only man able to take your virginity. 

The one whom claimed your innocence the day he layed his frigid eyes on yours.

He groaned in pleasure while you screamed as he pulled you down onto his rather large length forcefully, taking the breath from your lungs as your eyes widened.

Your eyes never left him, gazing at the man you know longer knew in a pained expression.

“My, my Mrs. Murphy, what a delicacy you are.” He pumped slowly in and out of you as you lay frozen, your stomach in knots.

“Why- why are you doing this to me?” If you had ever questioned if he was taking advantage of your age and the pure ignorance to all of the signs, you were sure now.

His tongue swiped over his bottom lip before biting agonizingly slow on his bottom lip, watching your not so innocent pussy suck his length in and slide back out, the tightness warming his cock.

He didn’t respond to you as he fucked into you raw, and mercilessly watching your tits bounce aggressively up and down, he knew he wouldn’t last long with an untouched, young body like yours.

His hands gripped your hips vigorously as you cried knowing you’d be unable to stop this from happening.

“I won’t have my wife being a fucking whore, the only thing you can be a whore for is my cock. If I find you talking to that little friend of yours again I’ll just have to try that back entrance I suppose.”

Your hands curled in the sheets as he towered over you, he could feel your slick start to warm up his cock even more, your walls tightening around his length involuntarily.

His thighs started to twitch and you knew what was about to happen.

“Cil-Cillian don’t!” But it was too late, his moans filled the bedroom as he shot his load up into your tight tunnel of ecstacy, his cock popping out of you.

You curled in on yourself completely petrified of the abusive nature Cillian contained.

When his hands settled on your hip, your body flinched away from his touch but he didn’t care.

“Pretty soon we’ll have our own little Murphy won’t we darling?” He exited the room and you heard the shower click on, you stared at the bathroom not daring to get up, the pain he inflicted in your most private area never going away, you were a battered wife.

~ 

The following month you had missed your period just as Cillian had planned.

He knew your weakness was the chance of being a mother, and you found yourself staying with him in hopes he’d change.

You never told a single soul about what he had done in fear of his high society status and the powerful people he knew that would turn your truth into lies to the public, making everyone hate you. No fan of Cillian’s would believe you, nor would his family and friends.

He’d leave you with absolutely nothing and for you to find your own way home, but what was home anymore? Your friends hated you, your family disapproved of your life you had nobody back in the states and Cillian surely would not claim to be the father of this child, giving you no support.

The first love you experienced, the first man who showed you attention was now your keeper.

To the public he was an innocent, charming, respectful, charismatic man, he would never do such awful acts to a woman.

Walking into the room pulling you away from the worrisome, intrusive though, Cillian came up behind you dressed in a suit and tie ready to head to the Oppenheimer premiere.

“You look dazzling my darling.” His hand cupped your now very visible bump, as he kissed your neck lovingly, softly. Something you had missed.

Tonight would be the first night you’d be in public since finding out you’re pregnant which you thought rather odd Cillian even invited you to go, due to the fact that this is his private life.

Escorting you out of the room, he opened the car door for you gracefully and when he settled his hand atop of yours you couldn’t help but shutter, still not being completely over what he did.

Once in front of the cameras you stuck on your happy face as Cillian played the devoted, caring husband part by assisting you out of the car, not once letting go of your hand.

His lips closed in, leaning ever so closely to your ear just barely touching your skin as he spoke forebodingly in your ear.

“Smile my darling, smile for the cameras.”