#buy used trucks and trailers

[buyusedtrucksandtrailers]

The Ultimate Guide to Buying Trucks in Australia

Are you in the market for a rugged vehicle that can handle the vast landscapes and demanding terrain of Australia? Look no further than buy trucks in Australia. Down under, where the roads can be as challenging as they are breathtaking, a reliable truck isn't just a luxury; it's a necessity. In this comprehensive guide, we'll navigate through the ins and outs of purchasing a truck in Australia, ensuring you find the perfect vehicle to conquer the outback.

Why Choose Australia for Buying Trucks?

1. Land of Diversity

Australia isn't just about kangaroos and koalas; it's a vast land of diverse landscapes, from sandy deserts to lush rainforests. Whether you're hauling goods across the rugged Outback or navigating the bustling streets of Sydney, Australia offers a terrain that demands a sturdy and reliable truck.

2. Quality and Reliability

Australian-made trucks are renowned for their quality and reliability. With manufacturers like Toyota, Ford, and Isuzu dominating the market, you can trust that your truck will withstand the harsh conditions of the Australian landscape.

3. Abundance of Options

From heavy-duty workhorses to versatile utility vehicles, the Australian market offers a plethora of truck options to suit every need and budget. Whether you're a tradesperson looking for a reliable work truck or an adventure enthusiast seeking an off-road beast, you'll find the perfect match in Australia.

What to Consider Before Buying

1. Purpose and Australiage

Before diving into the truck-buying process, it's essential to determine your specific needs and Australiage. Are you hauling heavy loads across long distances, or do you need a truck for urban deliveries? Understanding your requirements will help narrow down your options and ensure you find a truck that meets your needs.

2. Budget

Setting a realistic budget is crucial when buying a truck. Consider not only the upfront cost but also ongoing expenses such as fuel, maintenance, and insurance. Remember, investing in a quality truck upfront can save you money in the long run by reducing repair and maintenance costs.

3. Features and Specifications

When researching potential trucks, pay close attention to their features and specifications. Consider factors such as engine power, towing capacity, payload capacity, and fuel efficiency. Additionally, think about any specific features or accessories you may need, such as four-wheel drive, towing packages, or cargo management systems.

4. Resale Value

While it's essential to focus on your immediate needs when buying a truck, it's also wise to consider its resale value. Opting for a popular make and model with a strong resale value can pay off down the road when it's time to upgrade or sell your truck.

Where to Buy Trucks in Australia

1. Dealerships

Dealerships are a popular option for buying trucks in Australia, offering a wide selection of new and used vehicles from various manufacturers. Visiting a dealership allows you to see the trucks in person, test drive them, and discuss your options with knowledgeable sales professionals.

2. Online Marketplaces

In today's digital age, many Australians prefer to shop for trucks online. Websites like Carsales and Gumtree offer a vast selection of new and used trucks from private sellers and dealerships across the country. Shopping online allows you to compare prices, read reviews, and find the best deals without leaving the comfort of your home.

3. Auctions

For bargain hunters and savvy shoppers, truck auctions can be an excellent way to find a great deal. Auction houses like Manheim and Pickles Auctions regularly hold auctions featuring a wide range of trucks, including government surplus vehicles, fleet trucks, and repossessed vehicles.

Conclusion

In conclusion, buying a truck in Australia offers a unique blend of quality, reliability, and diversity. Whether you're navigating the rugged Outback or cruising through the urban jungle, there's a perfect truck waiting for you down under. By considering your needs, budget, and options, you can find the ideal vehicle to conquer the Australian terrain and embark on your next adventure with confidence. So why wait? Dive into the world of buying trucks in Australia and start your journey today!

[onlymingyus]

Beautiful Liar

pairing; kim mingyu x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), toxic, angst, dark content, fluff

summary; Kim Mingyu's life has always been complicated, but you just add another layer. At least he is a beautiful liar.

dark content/content warnings; mafia au, murder, guns (used/sold/bought), cops, gun dealer!mingyu, mafia boss!jun (shut up), second in command/drug dealer!minghao, lawyer!wonwoo, blood, fighting/beating, drugs mentioned, smoking (cigarettes), alcohol, alludes to alcoholism, depression/anxiety, toxic relationships, commitment issues -- best friends sister to lover, bosses sister to lover, jun's sister!reader, soonyoung, dino (chan), vernon as side characters, names eunseok and haneul used (have no connection to riize and kiof), crying, food and drink as always, mentions being sick, doctor!reader, medical terminology and medical procedure/wound described -- as always i'm certain i have missed something. if there is anything glaring send me an ask.

smut warnings; dom!mingyu, mean dom!mingyu, brat!reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, pulling out, creampie, cum on skin, cum play, cumming untouched, cumming in pants, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjob, edging/orgasm denial, degradation, pet names/degrading names, praise, impact play, pussy slapping, biting, crying from pleasure, dacryphilia, aftercare. as stated above, i am sure there is something i am forgetting. send an ask if it is glaring.   

w/c; 25.6k and some change (2.8k extra words for patreon bonus) 

beautiful liar - monsta x

a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading for me once again, i love you forever. i hope you all enjoy this one. i missed my boy so much and i wanted to expand a bit on gyu from shut up. give him a bit of life. its not the end of some of these characters, but we will see where they pop up in the future.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“Put that box over there.” Wiping the sweat from the back of his neck, Mingyu sighs out his words gesturing with his free hand as Lee Chan and Kwon Soonyoung lift the large box full of guns from the back of the trailer and onto a table in front of him. It was hotter than usual today and Mingyu didn’t want to be at the bar on his Saturday, but yet here he was, ever diligent.

“What did you buy me?” 

Taking a breath to the sound of his boss, Mingyu puts on a good face before glancing towards Wen Junhui and letting the corner of his lips pull up, at least on one side. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Jun, it was more that he was tired. Jun had gotten breaks over the past few months after a run in with Park Bonhwa, but Mingyu hadn’t. Things hadn’t gotten much better on the back end, they had just gotten quieter. 

Pointing at the box in front of him before picking up a pry bar, Mingyu grunts as he loosens the nails and takes off the top for Jun to see. 

“This one is Glocks and revolvers.” Gesturing with the pry bar towards where Chan and Soonyoung were pulling the other box from the truck, Mingyu tilts his head. “Should be rifles, mostly AKs. Just like you asked for, boss.” 

Jun knew what he had asked Mingyu to acquire for him, he just liked to see a job well done and Mingyu rarely disappointed, especially as of late. Slapping the larger man’s shoulder, Jun reaches in with his free hand to take out one of the revolvers, a Smith & Wesson, to test the balance in his hand. “It’s good work, Gyu. These should hold us over for a few weeks.” 

Putting the gun back into the box, Jun reaches up to scratch at his eyebrow as he glances towards Xu Minghao, his second in command, with a sigh on his lips. “Listen, speaking of. I’m going out of town for a few weeks. Gonna take Kitten on a little vacation.” 

Making a bit of a face at the pet name, Mingyu lifts his brows as Minghao rolls his eyes and speaks up, leaning against the table beside him. “Couldn’t call her anything else? She has a name.” 

Shooting his best friend a look, Jun scoffs and tilts his head. “Not any name that matters; I’ll call her what I want. The point stands, we are going out of town. Hao, you are in charge and Mingyu...” 

Hearing his name, Mingyu straightens his back and meets Jun’s eyes, uncertain what is about to be said, but his anxiety seems to know before it’s even out of his mouth. 

“You’ll take on second. Don’t let my bar burn down.” 

As if he didn’t have enough of his plate already. Seeing the look in Jun’s eye, Mingyu puts on a good face and nods. “Got it.” 

Mingyu was a complicated man. There were some who knew him as a cheerful person, most of those people got to know him when he was drunk. There were those who knew him as threatening, those were the people who got to know him on a bad day, and then there were people who had known him for most of his life—those people could tell when he was bluffing. 

Following behind Mingyu after he had checked the last box and sent the others home for the day, Minghao watched his friend closely before finally speaking up, knowing they were alone, at least enough that he didn’t have to worry about being heard. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t already do while Jun’s out of town, Gyu.”

Leaning his head back in annoyance, Mingyu stops in his tracks at the sound of Minghao’s voice. He should have known he wasn’t alone and if it had been anyone else, he probably would have. Xu Minghao, however, was quiet, and that’s what had made Jun interested in him in the first place. 

Turning to face the man, Mingyu puts on the same face he had given Jun before shrugging. Even if Minghao gave him more to do, that wouldn’t be the end of the world; it wasn’t like he had a life outside of this bar anyway. Mingyu had known what he was getting into all those years ago when he took that first wad of cash from Jun. 

“I don’t care. You could send me to the moon to buy you a 1911 Colt and I’d make it fuckin’ happen.” Minghao could hear the stress in Mingyu’s voice and it caused the corners of his lips to turn down as he took a step closer to his friend. If anyone needed a vacation from here, maybe it was him, but he knew those were few and far between—Jun got what he wanted when he wanted it, but that was owner privilege. 

Reaching up to rub at his neck, Minghao glances back towards Jun’s office, hearing him talking low on the phone. He knew Jun’s schedule and what he could get away with and in theory, what Mingyu could get away with, at least for the time being. “Take tonight off. Jun doesn’t leave until tomorrow night. I’ll need your big ass here then, but I can’t have you tired and moping around the door like this tonight.” 

Scoffing, Mingyu shakes his head and tosses the towel he had been using in the warehouse into the laundry room as he starts to walk away from Minghao as he speaks up a bit louder to make sure he’s heard. “We don’t get nights off, Hao. I’m fine. I don’t trust anyone else at the doors. Anyone could walk in.”

Mingyu had already thrown out five people and the night had barely started. Minghao already felt like ripping his hair out as he heard another disgruntled patron trying to drunkenly state their case to the large man as he hauled them back towards the door. While Minghao didn’t disagree with most of the people that Mingyu had thrown out, some of it was for petty shit that on most nights they would look in the other direction of—like this one. 

“Man! What the fuck? I said I was sorry. My hand slip—slipped.” The man hiccuped through his explanation, but clearly Mingyu wasn’t hearing any of it as he pushed the door open and started to toss the man out towards the ground. 

Sighing, Minghao grabbed Mingyu’s arm, feeling the larger man push back against him, fire in his eyes, before he realized who had a hold of him. “What? Are you gonna punch me? Throw him out and meet me in the back. We need to talk.” 

The sound of the man’s body hitting the concrete makes Minghao shake his head as he hears those waiting in line let out a reaction. Some of them are amused and others seem shocked or horrified. Throwing up his hands, Mingyu meets some of their eyes before slamming the door and rolling his neck as he follows Minghao back towards the warehouse, feeling his blood boiling. 

“Can we make this quick? I really don’t trust Soonyoung on the door alone. He lets any chick through the door if she flashes her tits…” 

Shooting Mingyu a look, Minghao scoffs at the man’s words before running his hand over his face out of stress and impatience. “You used to too, Mingyu. Cut him some fuckin’ slack… matter of fact, cut everyone some slack tonight.” Minghao’s words are strained as he meets his friend’s eyes, seeing the same look he’s seen for weeks. 

Shaking his head, Mingyu lifts his hand to run it through his hair before turning away from Minghao to take a deep breath. He could feel himself getting angry at his friend and he didn’t want to let his anger get the best of him. He wasn’t like this all the time… just when he was stressed or tired and lately that was all he knew. 

“What—you know what, Hao? We spend all fucking night catering to these drunk assholes who grope the girls or pick fights with us and you expect me to just cut them some slack?” There was a layer of resentment in Mingyu’s voice as he finally turned back to face Minghao and meet his eyes. 

Throwing up his hands, Minghao groans, feeling his own frustration coming to a boiling point. He had tried to get Mingyu to take a night off but the big oaf had been too stubborn; now they were all paying for it. 

“I’m just saying that you need to chill the fuck out. It’s either that or you can go the fuck home. You understand me?” Watching Mingyu’s jaw clench, Minghao clenches his own and takes a step closer to the man he has known for the better part of a decade. “Go out there and enjoy this job—at least pretend to. Find a girl and get your dick wet—something! But stop walking around like you are going to knock everyone’s head off.” 

Mingyu wanted to. He really did. He had been spending more and more time in the gym with a punching bag in front of him, to the point that his knuckles would swell and bleed. Right now, he wanted to put someone’s head through a wall, but even thinking about it made his skin crawl. Minghao was right; he even knew this wasn’t like himself. He felt like he was drowning. 

Taking a shaky breath, Mingyu takes a step back from Minghao and runs his hand over his lips before looking around the room. “I just… I’m not sleeping. I’ll call it for the night, alright?” Mingyu didn’t look for sympathy and he didn’t want to look weak because he wasn’t. So even now, as he felt Minghao get closer to him, he wanted to bolt out of the room as bile rose in his throat. 

“Like I said—get your ass out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The sound of his phone going off made Mingyu feel like his head was going to explode. He had done what he said he was going to do after leaving work. He had gone home and gone to bed. It hadn’t been his fault that his sleeping partner had been a fresh bottle of Jack and that bottle now lay empty next to him. 

Smacking at the nightstand with a large hand, Mingyu swipes the phone from it and puts it to his ear with a groan as he answers it. “What?” His voice is deep, full of sleep, as Mingyu rests his forearm over his eyes, trying to block out the sun that dares to peek around his black out curtains. 

Jun smirks against his thumbnail as he hears the sound of Mingyu’s voice. He knew Mingyu had gone home early the night before and he had assumed that the man would be all bright eyed and ready to get on with his day; instead, he sounded like he had just crawled into bed. 

“Morning sweetheart. Did I wake you?” 

Whining to the sound of Jun’s voice, Mingyu turns to his side, laying the phone on the pillow next to him for a moment before putting it back against his ear and forcing his eyes open. If it were anyone else, he could tell them to shove their phone up their ass and not call them back, but no, it had to be Wen Junhui. 

“It was a long night. Do you need me? I can be there in like—” Mingyu starts to count up how long it would take him to shower off the stink of whisky and to get dressed when Jun smiles into his words and saves him the trouble. “I do need you, Gyu. I always do, but I’m already on the way to the airport. Much to my surprise, I need you for other things.” 

Furrowing his brows, Mingyu sits up with a pained groan, feeling the blood rush from his head and eyes. He knew Jun was picking on him, but what could he possibly need help with if he and his lady were already going out of town? Blinking a few times, Mingyu slides off the bed and rubs at his neck with his free hand as he trudges towards his kitchen. 

“What things? Guns?” Mingyu sounds confused and tired as Jun listens to the sound of him rummaging around his apartment. Turning to look at Haneul, his fiancée as he runs his fingers along her cheek, Jun sighs and shakes his head. “No, that’d be easier. I got a call earlier from my sister. She’s landing in a couple hours.” 

Taking a large gulp of water, Mingyu pauses midswallow, only to get choked at the thought of Jun having a sister. Did he know that? Had he met Jun’s sister? What did this have to do with him? Coughing, Mingyu shakes his head and takes a breath, barely hearing Jun sigh in annoyance until he catches his breath and wipes at his lips, his voice a bit strained. “Sister? Landing? Like a flight? Where?” 

“You are learning new words, Mingyu?” Feeling Haneul smack at his hand and telling him to be nice, Jun sighs and purses his lips before rolling his eyes and explaining. “Yes, my sister, Y/N. Her flight lands at Incheon at 4:45 pm. I want you to pick her up and take her to the family penthouse.” Pinching his brows, Jun shakes his head and lets out a breath. “She didn’t tell me until this morning she was even coming or else I would have... it doesn’t matter. Just keep her entertained until I get back.” 

His mouth felt dry as Mingyu nodded along with Jun’s words, as if they were a language that he understood. First he learned that Jun had a sister and now he was learning that he had to pick you up and keep you entertained. How did one entertain their boss’ sister? 

“Wha—sure…okay. What does Y/N like? Should I just take her to the lounge—-” 

“Fuck no. Don’t you fucking dare take her to the bar. She’s a respectable woman, Kim Mingyu. Keep her away from anything that is remotely underground, understand?” Waiting to hear Mingyu agree with him, Jun nods along with his ‘yes’ before continuing. “Also, keep it in your fucking pants.” 

Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Mingyu tries to speak and come up with what to say in response to that, but the line goes dead, with Jun hanging up on him. Lowering his phone to the counter, Mingyu looks at the time and shakes his head. 2:15 pm… he had a little time to make sure he didn’t look like garbage.

“I don’t even know what Kim Mingyu looks like, Minghao.” You pout into your words as you roll your carry-on next to you towards baggage claim, your phone resting between your ear and shoulder. 

Minghao smiles at the sound of your voice as he shakes his head and sits down behind Jun’s desk at the lounge to turn on the laptop in front of him. “Look for a big idiot with nice hair. I’m sure he will have a sign with your name on it, honey.” 

Wrinkling your nose, you lift your eyes towards where most of the drivers and families were waiting, managing to see one man who stood out amongst the rest. He was tall, muscular, and gorgeous. Biting your lip, you try to see who’s name he’s holding, but the writing is messy, making it almost impossible to read unless you get closer. 

“Wow, is he really, um–” You try to think of how to ask Minghao about Mingyu when you sigh and bite the bullet, laughing. “Hot?” Lifting his brows, Minghao hears how you laugh and it makes him curious and a bit worried. He had already been told to tell Mingyu to behave, but did he need to tell you the same thing? “He’s... decent looking for an oaf, Y/N.” 

Nodding, you smile at the tall man as he glances down at his sign and back up at you, tilting his head like a puppy. “Then I found him. Talk to you soon, Minghao.” You hear Minghao try to speak, but you are quicker to end the call. Getting close enough to read your name in the chicken scratch on the piece of paper in the man’s hands. You laugh softly and look up at him with a sigh. “You must be, Mingyu.” 

Fuck. Fuck! That’s the only word that is repeating in Mingyu’s mind as he looks at you. He had to be decent. He has to respect you, but fuck! You are so beautiful. Swallowing hard, Mingyu nods before lowering the paper in his hand and nodding. “Miss Wen… I’ll get your bag. Jun told me to take care of you and get you to your family’s penthouse.” 

You watch as Mingyu turns his head away from you, quickly making your lips pull up in a curious smile. Following him towards the luggage carousel, you can’t help the way your eyes move along his body and land on his biceps as he pulls your suitcase from the track before turning back towards you and reaching out for your carry-on. 

“So... you are a driver for my brother?” 

Your words cause Mingyu’s brows to furrow, his breath getting caught in his throat as he walks with you towards the parking garage, being careful of traffic. Glancing towards you, he offers you a smile before tilting his head as if trying to think of the right thing to say before letting out a breath and finally speaking. “Uh, sometimes. I do a lot of things for your brother.” 

Reaching the G Wagon with him, you purse your lips, surprised not to see something different even as Mingyu loads your luggage into the back and moves around to open his passenger's side door for you. Seeing the look on your face, he lifts his brows slightly and presses his lips together, glancing at his car and back at you. 

“Is... is this not okay? Do you want to sit in the back? Do you not like my car?” Scratching the back of his head, Mingyu watches your lips pull up into a smile as he rambles. “Jun just told me to pick you up, so honestly, I don’t know much about what you do and don’t like... Miss Wen.” 

Finally laughing, you slide past Mingyu and climb into the car, glancing up at him as he rests his hand on the door, giving you a curious look. Letting out a breath, you lean your head back into the leather headrest and reach for the seatbelt as Mingyu keeps his eyes on you, even as they move along your face and down your body before he quickly moves them back up, realizing what he is doing when you finally speak to him. “I don’t like being called Miss Wen. Just call me Y/N, please.”

Swallowing hard, Mingyu then rubs his lips together out of nerves before lowering his head with a laugh. He just didn’t want to piss Jun off and while trying not to do that, he was being weird around you. Patting the top of the door frame, Mingyu nods before taking a step back to close your door. “You got it, Y/N.” 

Glancing around the large living room, Mingyu glances towards you as you drop your bag onto the couch before moving towards the floor to ceiling windows. He knew he really didn’t have to do much more for you. Yes, Jun had told him to keep you entertained, but he had done the first part. He had gotten you from the airport to the penthouse. The bar was going to open soon. 

Biting at his lip, Mingyu takes his phone from his jacket pocket and checks his messages when you glance back to look at him in the hallway, your luggage on either side of him. You could see his brows furrowed even from across the room. He had seemed so tense the entire drive from the airport and you could barely get him to open up to you. He was like a puzzle that you were dying to solve. 

“Talking to your girlfriend?” 

Your words pull Mingyu out of his haze as he reads Minghao’s text and back into the present with you. Lifting his brow, Mingyu scoffs but quickly clears his throat before shaking his head and sending a quick text back to Minghao. "No, I don’t have one. I was just letting Minghao know I had you here. Seeing if he wanted me at the loun—at work.” 

You watch as Mingyu quickly changes his wording and clears his throat once again. Stepping closer to the middle of the room, you can see the way he swallows hard and you know it’s because he’s trying to hide something from you. Smirking, you nod and gesture towards your bags before pointing towards another hallway. Mingyu’s eyes follow your hand before finding your eyes once again when you speak, some teasing in your voice. "Well, before you leave me for my brother’s shady bar, can you put my stuff in my room?” 

Mingyu feels his stomach in his throat as you mention the bar and start to walk towards the bedrooms. Groaning, he closes his eyes, feeling his phone go off in his hand, finding himself unwilling to look at it right away as he listens to your high heels click against the floor. 

So you knew about the lounge. Jun had told him you were a respectable woman. Mingyu had done his own research. Respectable was putting it simply. You were a doctor and where Jun might have lined his family’s pockets in his own way, you were like a beacon of joy for them, with your face in scientific journals and standing in front of hospitals with sick children. The lounge was so far away from who you were. 

Looking around the master bedroom, you nod before glancing back towards the door when Mingyu moves into the doorframe, only to stop and clear his throat as if asking for permission. He was not only breathtakingly handsome, but one of the most adorable men you had ever seen. You knew he worked for your brother in some capacity and in his less than desirable business adventure, but you couldn’t imagine it right now. Mingyu did not seem like the type of man to work for your brother. Then again, at one point in your life, you said the same about Minghao. 

“You can come into the room, Mingyu. What did my brother say to you to make you so afraid of me?” You smile, a small laugh in your words, as you take a step backwards to sit on the end of the bed as Mingyu puffs up his cheeks. 

Pushing your suitcases into the room, Mingyu looks down at you on the bed and he feels the image being burned into his brain as he tries not to imagine you lying back on it as he—sighing—shakes his head and lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair. “He told me to take care of you. Entertain you while he was gone, but he also told me to behave... in not so many words.” 

Biting at your lip, you laugh once again, lifting your leg to cross it over the other, feeling Mingyu’s eyes drop to your legs before he has to force himself to look away, pulling out his phone once again to check his messages. “Behave, huh? And what does that mean? Are you bad, usually?” 

Feeling heat rising in his neck, Mingyu swallows hard, not only at the text messages from Minghao but also at your words. What were you trying to do? You were obviously testing him. You were teasing him. He should run for the hills and a cold shower. 

Laughing, Mingyu focuses on his phone, sending one last text to Minghao, pressing send harder than necessary as you watch him closely. “Who are you texting, Mingyu? Still talking to Minghao? I might start to get jealous. I thought you were supposed to entertain me.” 

Glancing at you over his phone, Mingyu sees the smirk on your lips. You were causing some intense feelings for him. He was afraid of you for so many reasons already. You were bad for his job and his friendships. You were a brat and he could tell you were having fun, seeming to know that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Minghao: Don’t need you tonight. Jun wants you to get some shit and guard Y/N 

Mingyu: You gotta be kidding me.

Minghao: I don’t need to remind you, but I will, because she’s like my sister too 

Minghao: Keep your dick in your pants 

Mingyu: I’m not an animal

Minghao: Yes, you are. Don’t let anything happen to her 

Minghao: Understand me? 

Mingyu: I understand! 

Giving you a strained smile as he shoves his phone into his pocket, Mingyu takes a step back from you and lifts his shoulders with a deep breath. “Which room is mine?” 

You had already known that Mingyu was going to be assigned to be security for you until your brother got back, even if you had told Jun and Minghao that you didn’t need a babysitter. At the time when you said it, you hadn’t known who Mingyu was or how much fun it might be. Now you are happy to have company. 

Smiling, you slide off the bed and up to your feet, glancing around your room with a teasing smile as Mingyu lets out a breath, afraid of what you are implying. Stepping past him, you glance up at him, letting your fingers trail over his hand before moving to the door. “Follow me.” 

Mingyu’s skin felt like it was on fire where your fingers had brushed over his. He was being stupid with just a small touch, but god, you were driving him crazy. You knew exactly what you were doing; it was going to take everything in him to keep some professionalism about him during this. He was already counting down the days, hours, and minutes until Jun would be back and this job would be over. 

Following behind you, Mingyu lets his eyes move down your back and over your ass before he glances off to the side when you make a quick right turn into the room right beside yours and nod. Glancing over your shoulder at Mingyu, you lift your hands to do a quick eye to hand measurement of his height before doing the same for the bed and making an unsure sound. “You might fit, big boy.” 

Unable to stop the scoff before it starts to leave his mouth, Mingyu walks past you into the room and looks at the bed. It wasn’t a small bed, and he wasn’t that big. Meeting your eyes, Mingyu watches you smirk at him before you glance around the rest of the room and pout your lips at him. “You didn’t bring anything with you? Maybe I could take a ride with you and stretch my legs while you pack a bag.” 

You knew he didn’t have anything else with him. Clearly, he hadn’t been planning on staying, but you seemed to have known he was going to be sticking around before he did. Sighing, Mingyu scratches at his eyebrow before gesturing towards the door and giving you a strained smile. You could tell you were wearing him down. You wanted to crack him. Get to the real Kim Mingyu, not this professional mask he was wearing for the sake of your brother. 

Mingyu hadn’t expected you to follow him up into his apartment, so when you did, he could feel the heat rising in his neck and face. His apartment was nothing compared to the penthouse you were staying in or the penthouse that Jun owned. All Mingyu had was a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment in a decent part of town and he kept it pretty clean. Thank god. 

“Uh, I’ll be quick. Just—” You watch as Mingyu hurries past you into his living room to swipe a gun from his coffee table, a few bullets hitting the floor as he curses under his breath, leaning down to pick them up. “Make yourself at home, I guess.” Glancing over his shoulder at you, Mingyu pushes the bullets into the magazine in his hand before pushing the magazine into the pistol and hearing it click. 

Your brows were raised and you were watching him curiously. He hadn’t planned for you to be in his space. He had been cleaning one of his guns the night before, well before the bottle of jack, but normally people weren’t inside his apartment. Especially people who looked like you and were decent, normal people. 

Following Mingyu with your eyes, you watch as he leaves the door crack, probably to listen to in the other room as he grabs a bag and starts to fill it with various things. You weren’t surprised that he had a gun and it didn’t bother you; in fact, it made him even sexier somehow. You felt a bit safer around him knowing that he was armed, especially if he was supposed to be taking care of you. 

Looking over the books on his shelves, you tilt your head and smile at the titles. They weren’t what you would expect someone like Kim Mingyu to have. As that thought crosses your mind, you think to yourself that it isn’t fair of you to think that. You didn’t know him well enough to judge his reading habits or intelligence. You just hadn’t expected to see The Count of Monte Cristo sitting on his shelf with the binding broken as if it had been read several times. 

Pulling the book out, you hold it delicately in your hands as you flip through, reading over the words—some you remember, others that you hadn’t forgotten, having not read it in so long. What makes you smile are the notes in the margins in the same chicken scratch that you had seen your name written in at the airport. 

Grabbing a few things from his bathroom, Mingyu zips up his bag and checks his pistol before sliding it into the holster under his jacket. You were quiet in the other room and that was making him nervous. He had tried to be quick while packing, but he had no idea what to bring, so he went simple and only took what he needed. 

Turning the corner into his living room, Mingyu stops in his tracks, seeing you standing in front of his bookshelf with one of his books in your hands. You were gorgeous in the evening light pouring in from the decently large windows he had been blessed with, and you had the prettiest smile on your lips as you ran your fingers over the margins of the book. He could already tell what book you were looking at before even getting closer. It was his favorite, but that was probably easy to see, which is probably why you picked it up. It was obviously the most well loved book on the entire shelf. 

“All human wisdom is contained in these two words–Wait and hope.” You read the quote from the book that Mingyu had re-written at the top of the page before glancing up at him as he watches you carefully. Closing the book, you slide it back into his place and take a breath before offering him a smile. “Are you a tortured soul, Kim Mingyu?” 

Laughing into a scoff, Mingyu adjusts his bag on his shoulder and shakes his head. “I just enjoy the idea of revenge being fulfilled, I think.” Mingyu watches you nod and take a few steps closer to him, the air feeling thicker as he tries to take a breath only to get a deep breath of your perfume. 

“And it has nothing to do with the love story attached to it? That isn’t why you’ve read that book so many times that the pages are falling out.” Mingyu’s eyes fall to your lips as you speak and he has to force himself to look back up to your eyes before pulling his gaze away from you and towards the window with the golden light. 

“It’s just a story.” You think to yourself as you hear the words come out of Mingyu’s mouth—what a beautiful liar he is.

Leaning back in the chair, Mingyu glances around the penthouse as you open the fridge and sigh. He wasn’t sure what you had expected to be in there. From what he understood, you hadn’t given Jun much of a heads up about this visit so it wasn’t like he could have things stocked and ready to go for you. Obviously, there wasn’t going to be a fridge full of food just waiting for you to use. 

“What is your favorite food, Mingyu?” Closing the fridge, you turn back towards the living room to lean against the kitchen island to face Mingyu. He looked surprised by the question, but you already had your phone out and were ordering groceries while waiting for him to answer you. 

“Whatever you like.” 

Smirking at his answer, you glance up from your phone and tilt your head before stepping around the island and into the living room to sit on the couch closest to the chair that Mingyu had chosen. The moment you had gotten back to the penthouse, you had opted to change. Your flight had been long; you were ready to get out of your clothes and into something more comfortable, so now you were in leggings and a tight tank top that Mingyu was having a hard time not staring at. 

“Oh? You like all the foods I like now? Have we reached that point in our relationship, darling?” Teasing him, you smile when Mingyu rolls his eyes and runs his hand over his mouth, opting to lean forward and look down at his knees to keep himself in check. You could almost see the stress rolling off of him; he needed a massage, maybe a vacation, but he for sure needed a good fuck before he suffered a heart attack. “I’m just picking on you, Mingyu.” 

He knew what you were doing and he wasn’t an idiot. You weren’t some angel like your brother and Minghao thought you were. Shaking his head, Mingyu glances up to meet your eyes before leaning back in the chair and laying his head back against the back of it. “Anything with meat. I’m not a fucking rabbit. If you need me to go get food, I can. Just give me a list.” 

Lifting your phone, you show him the groceries you had ordered and then swipe over to the delivery app to show him where you had chosen to get dinner from. “Work for you? We’ve already been out enough today. I’d rather we both stay in for the rest of the evening.” 

Mingyu couldn’t argue with you on that. Nodding to the choices, he stands to take off his jacket, drawing your attention to not only his arms under his t-shirt but also the gun holster on his side. Feeling your eyes on him, Mingyu takes a breath and shakes his head as he takes the pistol from the holster and turns it to the side to show you his thumb resting against the safety. “It’s on. I know how to use it, or else your brother wouldn’t have asked me to be here.” 

While you were curious about how and why Mingyu was so comfortable with the gun, you just nodded and leaned back on the couch, crossing your legs as he moved to put his gun down on the dining room table so he could unhook his holster and take it off. 

“I wasn’t going to ask if you knew how to use it, Mingyu. I mean, clearly, you do. Dressed like that.” Meeting your eyes briefly, Mingyu smirks as you glance away quickly and back to your phone as he lays the leather holster down on the table next to his pistol. Maybe it was that he had been with you for so many hours and that he was still feeling hungover, but what could it actually hurt to give you a taste of your own medicine. “Yeah, dressed like what, sweetheart?” 

You close your eyes, feeling yourself clench the moment Mingyu calls you sweetheart and his voice drops an octave. He was fighting dirty now and your body was a traitor. Shifting your legs, you tighten your thighs and clear your throat as you tilt your head, letting out a scoff. If he wanted to play, you could play. 

“Like that, you know, like a bad boy.” Giving Mingyu a once over, nice and slow, you finally meet his eyes and find that was a mistake as he lifts a brow and grins at you. Taking a deep breath, you think you turn your head away slowly, coolly, calmly, and collected—but Mingyu sees you panic and look away, making his ego grow. 

“What if I am a bad boy? Is that what you asked me before? If I was bad? If I misbehaved?” 

When had his voice gotten so low and sexy? When did Mingyu get so close? You could feel his hands on either side of you on the back of the couch as he leaned over you, standing behind the couch, but you didn’t dare look up. Instead, you focus on your phone even as you tap your foot against the floor, trying to hide how you are pushing your thighs together. Shrugging, you sigh, but it comes out shakier than intended, especially when you speak up. “I—well, I did ask that, but I was teasing you.” 

Grinning, Mingyu leans down to speak next to your ear, his eyes on your lap as he does. “And I’m teasing back. Can’t handle the heat? Stay out of the kitchen, baby.” Blowing a kiss next to your cheek, he laughs before standing back at his full height and stretching, pulling his arms behind him as he walks around the couch and towards the hallway. “I’m gonna take a shower; let me know when dinner is here.” 

You could feel sweat running between your breasts and your neck at how hot Mingyu had literally made you. Swallowing, you run your tongue over your lips and lean your head back against the couch, hearing the door to his bedroom shut, giving you a moment to finally catch your breath. God, you were in trouble. It had been fun at first, but now you wanted him. You wanted him badly. 

The rest of the night had gone fine. Even sleeping in a bed that wasn’t his—that was fine, but what wasn’t fine was waking up and walking into the kitchen to see you barely wearing anything. You were standing in front of the fridge, one hand on the door, the other pulling the carton of juice out, as you ran your toes along the back of your exposed calf. Mingyu couldn’t help but let his eyes run along your bare legs up to where your tiny shorts barely covered your ass. 

“I—aren’t you cold? I mean standing in front of the fridge like that.” 

Mingyu wasn’t much better than you were. He hadn’t opted to put on a shirt, so when you looked over at him, ready to give him some smart comments back, you almost lost grip of the juice in your hand. Choking on your words, you close the fridge and turn towards the kitchen island, reaching up to pull down two glasses, sneaking glances towards the man as you pour juice in both. “I—no. No… I’m not cold. It’s the summer, Mingyu. Clearly, I mean, you’re running around half naked.” 

Looking down at his torso, Mingyu shrugs, moving closer to the other side of the island, reaching out for one of the glasses of orange juice as you slide it to him. You had a point, but in his opinion, it was one thing for him to be shirtless and it was another for you to have your ass hanging out and your tits—god, your tits—just on display through that thin little tanktop. 

Swallowing his juice hard, Mingyu looks away from you, trying hard to think with his brain and not his cock, even as he feels it threatening to get hard just looking at you. Keep your dick in your pants. That’s what he had been told twice by Jun and Minghao, and yet you had been looking at him like he was a fucking three course dinner from the moment he had picked you up at the airport. How was he supposed to keep it civil with you when you were acting like you wanted to fuck him as badly as he wanted to fuck you—and he barely knew you. Did that even matter at this point? It had never mattered before with any other girl. 

You were doing your best not to ogle Mingyu, but it was easier said than done. With your glass against your lips, your eyes walked the line from his face to the top of his pajama pants, where they hung low on his lips. You could trace the line of his v-cut and you could imagine doing it with your fingers or your lips, it was only when he cleared his throat, sat his glass down and moved around the island towards you that you were startled enough to stop staring. 

“What are you doing?” Shifting out of Mingyu’s way, you watch as he opens the fridge and mutters to himself, ignoring your question as he pulls out a few things and sits them on the counter. Giving you a smile, he furrows his brows and opens a few of the lower cabinets until he finds the pots and pans he wants. “Making breakfast, sweetheart. What’s it look like? Didn’t look like you were gonna do it. I figure bigwig doctors don’t have to cook for themselves anyway.” 

Rolling your eyes, you shift slightly, letting Mingyu pull the drawer open next to you as you feel his body pressed against yours. His skin was hot to the touch, and while his words frustrated you, having him so close made you struggle not to grab him. 

Taking a spatula from the drawer, Mingyu winks at you and pushes the drawer shut, stepping back to hear you let out a slow breath. He could tell you were irritated with him. He liked it. You were a brat and he was enjoying pushing your buttons. It didn’t matter if you were this smart as fuck doctor who could probably run laps around him when it came to most things, he could still teach you a few lessons. 

“What? What’s that look for? Am I wrong? You don’t have a personal chef?” Cracking a few eggs into a bowl in front of him, Mingyu watches you cross your arms over your stomach as you scoff. You weren’t able to say anything, which told him he wasn’t that far off. “Or you do. Is that a doctor thing or a Wen thing?” 

“You are so fucking annoying... I hope you cook as well as you run your mouth.” There was some fire to your tone of voice and it was going straight to Mingyu’s cock again. Smirking to himself as he pours the eggs into the pan, he adjusts the heat and meets your eyes only for a second before taking a few slices of bacon from the package and adding them to another pan. 

“Afraid I’ll try to put something in your mouth you won’t like?” Mingyu’s words make your cheeks heat up. Scoffing, you try to think of the right thing to say, but nothing comes to mind quickly enough so he fills the empty space with his irritatingly handsome laugh. “Come on, you know that was funny. I have to tease you a little bit. You’ve been keeping me on my toes, sweetheart.” 

Pushing your tongue against your cheek, you meet Mingyu’s eyes as he puts the bacon next to the eggs and puts the pan back on the stove, only to rest his hand on the counter next to your hip. “Keep lookin’ at me like that and you’ll make me think you want me to do more than tease.” 

“Yeah? And what happened to behaving?” You smirk, looking down at Mingyu’s hand, then back up at his eyes as he takes a step closer to you. Both of you knew this was a bad idea, but as you bite at your pretty bottom lip, letting it get caught between your teeth as you smile at him, Mingyu’s resolve breaks. Stepping in front of you, he puts his other hand on the other side of you to keep you pinned to the island as you take a deep, shaky breath. “I think I’m done trying to behave. How ‘bout you, sweetheart?” 

Mingyu had put the ball in your court. He wasn’t touching you yet. If you wanted to get away from him, you could. He would listen to you if you told him to get away, but those words never left your mouth. Instead, you whine his name, reaching up to grab him by his neck and pulling him down to your lips. Mingyu groans into the kiss, feeling your nails scratch at the back of his neck and into his hairline. It had been a while since a kiss had made him feel like this. He usually avoided kissing his hookups, but occasionally they would whine about it enough that he’d give in and they were nothing like this. They were nothing like you. 

Sliding his hands from the counter to your hips, Mingyu nips at your lips as his fingers dig into your flesh through your clothes and he lifts you up and onto the counter. Stepping between your legs, he smiles against your lips before licking the seam of your lips, asking for permission until you give it to him, parting your lips. His tongue glides along yours and he groans to the taste of your mouth as his hands pull you forward and into his hips, letting you feel his cock hard between your legs. 

Furrowing your brows, you lean your head back to take a breath, hoping your mind might clear—that you might come to your senses—but Mingyu’s lips move to your jaw and then your neck. He only makes you want him more. You weren’t like this usually. No man could make you throw yourself at them, but there was something about Kim Mingyu. Maybe it was being away from home and having no one around to tell you to be perfect. You felt like you could go on desire instead of common sense. 

“Oh my god, Mingyu...” You sound so desperate that it makes Mingyu groan against your throat, his hands finding the counter under you once again. He feels his cock twitch in his pajama pants at the breathy moans leaving your mouth and every single lie that he will have to tell Jun and Minghao feels worth it. 

“Fuck, you sound so pretty. Just like an angel.” Taking a step back, Mingyu runs his fingers along the sides of your legs, feeling chill bumps spread along your skin until he meets your shorts. Tilting his head, he licks his lips and meets your eyes, looking for you to give him permission as he pushes his fingers into the top of your shorts. Nodding, you lift your hips and press your lips together when Mingyu tugs your shorts down to your thighs with a groan. “Baby, you’re trying to kill me. You knew what you were wearing when you came into this kitchen. You were asking for me to fuck you, huh?” 

Shaking your head, you still smile as Mingyu lifts your legs and drops your shorts onto the kitchen floor at his feet. You shiver at the feeling of his nails lightly scratching along the slides of your legs as he steps back between your legs, his eyes falling to his prize. “‘Course you were. It’s okay; you can tell me, angel. Have you been this wet the entire time?” 

Lifting his hand to his lips, Mingyu runs his tongue along the pad of his thumb as you watch. Keeping his eyes on you, he uses his thumb to spread your wet folds, searching for your clit. When you arch your back, pushing your hips toward his hand, Mingyu smirks and draws a circle around the small bundle of nerves. 

“Please, please, oh my god.” Your voice goes straight to Mingyu’s cock. He feels himself start to leak against his pants as he turns his hand, brushing his knuckles against your folds when you lift your hips, trying to get more from him. 

“Please what? You know... you haven’t been very nice to me, Y/N.” Mingyu meets your eyes, and as he pouts his lips, his words almost sound sad. Scoffing, you glance down at his hand only to have his free hand grab your chin, bringing your eyes back to his face. “Eyes on me. You have teased me since you got here. You might be pretty as an angel, but you are a brat. I need to teach you a lesson, baby.” 

Whining, you lean your head back, a pout on your lips this time as Mingyu’s fingers move from your pussy to your leg. “No, no… I’m sorry. Touch me. I can be good.” Mingyu’s lips pull up in a smirk as he tilts his head, listening to your begging. He could get used to the sound of that, but it wasn’t good enough. All he had done was threaten, and he had to follow through. 

“Are you scared?” Strong hands grip your hips as Mingyu slides you to the end of the counter. You meet his eyes and try to think about how to answer him. Swallowing hard, you nod, and Mingyu nods, lifting one hand up to cup your cheek. Taking a step back, he leans in and kisses you so sweetly that your head spins, only for you to gasp into a surprised moan when his other hand comes down in a sharp slap over your wet folds. “Want me to stop?” 

Breathing hard against his lips, you close your eyes tightly to the strange feeling of pain and pleasure as Mingyu’s fingers run through your folds once again. Pushing his index finger into your tight hole, he keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your answer, but you only shake your head. “Words, angel, or I will stop.” 

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you push Mingyu’s finger into you further and he groans on your lips, meeting your eyes. Leaning in a few inches to press your lips to his, you speak between kisses, keeping your eyes on his. “Don’t stop. Teach me a lesson, Mingyu.”

A deep groan comes from Mingyu’s throat, almost a growl as he leans his forehead against yours, hearing those words come out of your mouth. You were where this untarnished, this perfect white rose… and he was going to ruin you. 

“Oh, I’ll teach you something you’ll never forget, baby. You're dripping down my finger, just like a little whore.” Gasping not only at Mingyu’s words but also at the feeling of a second finger pushing into you beside the first, you grab at his wrist again. Mingyu grins, an almost cruel laugh on his lips, as he rubs his fingers back slowly towards his palm, feeling your soft walls on his fingertips. “I thought you were supposed to be respectable. That’s what your brother told me.” 

Trying to lift your lips, you whine Mingyu’s name when his free hand pushes your hips back down on the kitchen counter. Tsking at your behavior, he leans his head back and meets your eyes as he lifts his brows and slides his fingers out almost all the way. “I’m talking, angel. Stop being so fucking impatient. You told me to teach you a lesson, so listen to me.” 

Fingers plunge back into you, causing you to choke on a moan. Mingyu relishes the sounds coming from your mouth as much as he enjoys the feeling of your pussy sucking his fingers back in with every thrust. 

“Please… please. I’m good. I’m listening.” Your words are almost incoherent babbling and Mingyu can’t help but smirk. Were you that drunk off of him already? He had barely started. All you had gotten from him was a kiss and his fingers fucking you, and you were struggling to remember how to speak. 

“So fucking pretty and making such a mess.” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment because you know that Mingyu isn’t lying. You can hear how wet you are as his fingers fuck into you at such a brutal pace that you are seeing stars. 

Unable to keep yourself up anymore, you slide your hands back, only to gasp in surprise when  you hear the sound of glass hitting the floor and shattering. Mingyu laughs, his eyes on you, as you try to look for what fell. “Who the fuck cares? I don’t even want breakfast anymore. I got mine right here.” 

Running your hand over your face, you struggle to catch your breath as you lay back on the counter, feeling Mingyu’s fingers slide from you, leaving you right on the edge of your orgasm. If you were any more coherent, you would have yelled at him for not finishing, but you didn’t have time to come to your senses or to be angry. The feeling of Mingyu’s tongue taking the place of his fingers has your stomach in knots. Trying to push your thighs together, you find it impossible as a strong hand holds one leg up, and Mingyu’s face grinds into your pussy. 

There were few things that Mingyu loved more than getting his dick wet, but eating pussy was one of them. The feeling of a woman’s thighs around his head, having to take deep breaths between groaning against her soft plush folds—that was better. Mingyu could feel himself getting close to his own climax. He knew he could ask you to let him fuck you, that you’d probably agree, but this was it. This was what he had wanted the moment he walked into the kitchen and saw your ass peeking from under those little shorts. 

Digging his nails into your skin, Mingyu nudges his nose against your clit as he sucks at your pussy, enjoying not only your taste but the smell and feeling of you against his mouth and skin. Yes, this was one of his favorite things to do, but with you? This was fucking heaven. You were heaven. He had been calling you an angel because of how you were moaning his name, but tasting your cum on his tongue and feeling you grind against his face? You had to be his one gift from God. 

You weren’t sure how many times Mingyu had made you cum on his tongue. You had never felt anyone use their mouth like him and by the time that you had your fingers in his hair pulling him from your thighs, you were sobbing and your legs were shaking. Meeting your eyes, Mingyu licks his lips before glancing back down at his prize with a groan. You were beautiful. From the top of your head to your toes, your pussy—wet and swollen from his mouth was to die for. 

“I need—I wanna help you. God, you are trying to kill me.” You watch Mingyu run his fingers through his hair, a sheepish grin on his face as he stands up between your legs. You were out of breath, you looked exhausted and pliant. Mingyu shakes his head as he wipes his mouth, feeling your fingers tugging at his hand, only for him to wrap his fingers around your wrist and keep your hand still. 

“I’m good. You did help me.” Shaking your head, you move to your elbows and whine, reaching for Mingyu’s pajama pants, when you realize he’s not hard anymore. Furrowing your brows, you meet his eyes once again to see his brows lift as he licks his lips. “I came, baby. ‘Sides... told you I had to teach you a lesson. It was a lesson in what happens when you tease me.” 

Mingyu watches a pout form on your lips. You were devestantly cute and it was bad for not only his job but his health. Jun and Minghao were going to kick his ass or they might just kill him. Shaking his head, Mingyu leans down to press his lips to yours as you whine his name and slide your fingers along his sides, feeling a thin layer of sweat under your hands. 

“I know I need a fuckin’ shower now... and you need to eat. I’ll clean up the glass. Don’t step on the other side.” 

He was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Watching Mingyu move away from you, you furrow your brows as he picks up a dish towel and leans down to clean up orange juice and broken glass. Just moments ago, he was calling you a little whore, and now he was worried about you getting hurt and needing to eat. Biting at your lip, you swallow hard and slide off the counter to pick up your shorts and put them back on as you listen to Mingyu pick up the pieces of your cup. 

“Should we—I don’t know, should we talk about what just happened?” Your voice makes Mingyu want to laugh as he puts pieces of glass into the dish towel and tries to avoid cutting his fingers. You seemed confused or maybe even like you regretted it. Shaking his head, Mingyu lets out a breath and moves to the trash with his towel, dropping it all in before meeting your eyes. “Do you wanna pretend it didn’t—” 

“Oh my god! No… I liked it. I just—Jun and Hao. Should we talk about—” Lifting his hands, Mingyu laughs, making you stop before you spiral. Moving back around the counter, you watch him take in a deep breath and it draws your eyes to his chest once again. God, he really was the most beautiful man you had ever seen and you had just had his face between your legs. Your mind was spinning. 

“It’s between us. I won’t tell them if you don’t. I’d actually prefer to keep my cock attached to my body.” Smirking, Mingyu tilts his head, reaching up to grab your chin, making you meet his eyes instead of looking at his chest. “You seem to be interested in it too, so... deal?” 

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He was so lewd. He went from being almost sweet to making you feel like you were dirty. Nodding, you feel Mingyu’s thumb run over your bottom lip as he hums happily. “That’s a good girl. I’m gonna shower, eat what I made, even if it’s cold.” 

Dropping his hand, Mingyu lets his fingers trail over your hip as he walks towards the hall, leaving you alone in the kitchen with your head spinning and your thighs aching. 

You had hoped that Mingyu would act differently after the morning’s extracurricular activities, but as soon as he got out of the shower and you were back in the living room with him, you found him with his phone in his hand. You were starting to hate his phone. He sat with you on the couch and didn’t care when you tried to lean in close to him, but he didn’t attempt to make any more moves on you. 

It was like night and day. 

Sighing at his phone, Mingyu shifts against you as you watch tv. Glancing at his wrist, he rolls his eyes and slides letting you unceremoniously fall against the cushions. Pushing yourself back up, your eyes follow him as he moves to pick up his leather jacket and pulls it on before glancing at you with an unsure look in his eyes. Words on the tip of his tongue before he finally bites the bullet, “I have to go into work. It’s gonna be busy, I can’t let Minghao cover that shit alone.” 

Sitting up, you glance around the room before meeting his eyes once more as he waits for you to give him permission, though he knows he doesn’t need it. Yes, he was supposed to keep you safe and “entertained”, but what all could happen to you in a cushy penthouse. “So… be a good girl, and I’ll be back in the morning.” 

Your mouth falls open and you are on your feet before Mingyu takes the first step. You weren’t going to be a good girl, it seemed. Sighing, Mingyu runs his fingers through his hair. He had a good idea what you were about to ask, but hearing the words come out of your mouth didn’t make them easier to hear or to decline. “Can I come?” 

Shaking his head no, he moves past you, feeling your hand grab his wrist as you stomp your feet and whine his name. He had been told explicitly not to bring you to the lounge. Of course, he had already broken some rules with you, which made it harder to look you in the eye. 

“Your brother told me to absolutely not bring you to the lounge. Y/N, baby, please. Just stay here and be good. Place isn’t for women like you anyway.” Mingyu’s words make you scoff. Women like you. What did he think you were? Some saint? Trying to jerk Mingyu’s arm back towards you, you aren’t surprised when he is able to pull free with little effort. 

Mingyu hated saying no to you, especially with how you were looking at him. He could tell you were upset with him, but he’d rather you be a little irritated than have you being felt up by some low life at the bar. Reaching up to grab your chin between his fingers, Mingyu presses his lips to yours, feeling you pout into the kiss for just a moment until you relax. You couldn’t stay mad at him. It wasn’t like he could just put his life on hold for you, though you desperately wanted him to. 

“Mm, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. We’re closed… I’ll treat you so good.” You could feel your knees go weak at the smooth tone of Mingyu’s voice as his fingers traced your jaw. He was playing you like a fiddle and you just nodded like the pathetic girl you are before kissing him once more at the door. 

Watching the door shut, you whine and throw your head back dramatically before picking up your phone and laying on the couch. You knew Mingyu was probably right, but that didn’t make it any easier to feel like Rapunzel stuck in a glass tower. 

Y/N: [picture attached]

Mingyu sighs out a breath of smoke as he uses the palm of his hand to pull his G-Wagon into his usual parking spot. It was already getting late in the afternoon so getting to the lounge this late was like getting to class after the bell. 

Taking one last pull from his cigarette, Mingyu tosses it to the pavement before pushing it into the concrete with his boot as he takes his cell phone from his pocket to check his messages from you. He knew he had a few. You were tempting him to come back to the penthouse and as much as he wanted to bring you along, or get back and throw you on a bed, he had a job to do. 

Mingyu: That doesn’t look like a good girl. Just a pretty slut with great tits. 

Mingyu smirks to himself as you send a string of dramatic responses before he slides his phone back into his jacket and makes his way towards the building. You’d be fine. You were safe and away from the shit that your brother had hoped to keep secret from you. It wasn’t Mingyu’s fault you knew about it, but he could at least do what he was told and not bring you in right under Minghao’s nose. 

“Hey man, I thought I was gonna have to do this shit by myself again.” Taking a deep breath, Mingyu shakes his head at Soonyoung’s words as he slips by the smaller man at the door. There were already a few people lined up waiting to get in. He had been in Soonyoung’s place before, and while he could handle it by himself now, he remembered the stress of being newer and being left to the dogs. 

“Nah… I’m here. Sorry about last night. Had something else the boss wanted me to do.” Mingyu grabs one of the glasses from the bar and pours himself a shot of whiskey as Soonyoung nods along with his words before droning on about the night before. He liked Soonyoung, but he could already feel a headache behind his eyes as Chan turned up the volume at his booth, the bass causing his ears to ring. 

“So, I’m just sayin’... there are some real pricks comin’ every single fuckin’ night.” Leaning his head back, Mingyu winces at the burn of the alcohol before nodding, not even meeting Soonyoung’s eyes. “I get it. Don’t fucking worry about it. If they show up, I’ll take care of ‘em.” 

Soonyoung’s shoulders relax at Mingyu’s words. He was happy to have him back. He could do his job and Vernon was decent help, but there wasn’t anyone like Mingyu. It was different when you had a 6’2” wall next to you who wasn’t afraid to put someone in their place. “Cool, cool, alright, man. Thanks.” 

For the first couple of hours, Mingyu felt like he could fall asleep at the door. It was mundane and he was beginning to wonder if this was actually a Saturday night or not, but by hour three, he was eating his words. After four bar fights and a debate on whether one man needed an ambulance or not later, Mingyu was taking a much needed smoke break. 

Scrolling through texts from you, he found himself smirking at how needy you were being. It wasn’t just that you wanted him to come home and fuck you—it was that you were bored and spoiled. All he had done was play around with you a bit, fuck you on his tongue and fingers and you were already a spoiled little princess. 

Mingyu: Baby… I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t you remember what I said? Trying to make me regret it? 

Mingyu: Want me to take it back?

Pouting at your phone, you push your head back into your pillows as you kick your legs from under your blankets. You couldn’t believe he was actually going to stay out all night. You couldn’t believe that Minghao would keep him out that late, knowing that you were here, but you also knew you were being unreasonable. You knew that Mingyu had a life before you got here, and he’d have one once you flew back home. 

Y/N: No… Just miss you. It’s lonely in this big, ‘ol apartment. How’s work?

With his cigarette between his lips, Mingyu scoffs softly, almost feeling a bit soft at your response. You were so sweet, it was frustrating. You made him feel a bit crazy. Mingyu knew you weren’t his for long. You shouldn’t be his at all… he had made promises, but you had landed in his lap and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste. 

Mingyu furrows his brows at the sounds of footsteps behind him as he looks down at his half written response to you on his phone. It could be anyone; he was behind the building, but not many people came out unless they were doing exactly what he was doing or they were looking for someone. Someone looking for him? Soonyoung? Minghao? 

Turning his head and starting to speak, Mingyu feels the breath get knocked from his lungs as the cigarette falls from his lips to the ground along with his phone. Concrete bites at the heels of his hands as Mingyu hits the ground, the sharp feeling of a boot hitting his side knocking any chance of a full breath from his lungs. 

“Get up, motherfucker.” 

Mingyu groans, tasting copper in his mouth, his head lifting just in time for him to react and use the strength he has to catch the foot aimed at his head. Twisting hard, Mingyu rolls his body over, pulling the man down until he is under him, bringing his elbow down across the man’s cheek with a loud crack. 

Neither notices the doors to the building opening until the light spreads over the ground, letting Mingyu see who had attacked him. Lee Eunseok, one of the men he had thrown out earlier in the night for starting a fight, and more importantly, one of Park Bonhwa’s faithful followers. 

“Gyu! He’s down, it’s done!” 

Minghao’s voice rings in Mingyu’s ears as he lands another punch to the side of Eunseok’s face, feeling muscle and bone give under his knuckles. He only stops when Soonyoung, Minghao, and Vernon pull him off, leaving the other man to catch his breath and bleed on the ground. 

Tugging his arms away from his friends, Mingyu’s voice comes out as more of a growl as he feels his lungs and stomach twist in pain. “Get the fuck off me!” Hands move from him, but they stay close, keeping him from going back to Eunseok as he rolls on to his side, laughter escaping his cracked, bleeding lips between words. “Such a little bitch, Kim.” Sliding his hand towards Mingyu’s phone, he looks at the screen at your name before holding it up to show it to Mingyu and the others with a look on his face that makes Mingyu feel sick to his stomach. “Your girlfriend? Should I call her and say hi?” 

Minghao moves forward before Mingyu can, grabbing the phone from Eunseok reading your name and turning off the screen. His eyes meet Mingyu’s and it tells him everything he needs to know. Not only had Eunseok struck a nerve, but there was plenty to talk about later. 

“Get this son of a bitch off the property.” Mingyu’s eyes never leave Minghao's, even as Soonyoung and Vernon move to lift Eunseok from the ground and drag him towards the parking lot. Offering him his phone, Minghao gives Mingyu a once over shaking his head as the larger man takes it and spits blood onto the ground to clear it from his mouth. 

“I don’t wanna talk about—” 

“I don’t give a fuck what you want to talk about. What did I tell you?” Sucking in a breath as he lifts his hand, running it through his hair, Minghao curses under his breath, pointing towards the doors for Mingyu to move. In theory, Mingyu knew he could tell him to shove it up his ass. He could walk away, but he also knew that would be the end of his life. Jun wouldn’t let him just walk away. So Mingyu put his head down like a child in trouble and walked towards the building as Minghao followed in tow. 

The sound of the office door closing only makes Mingyu’s head throb more. He felt like he could finally catch his breath, though he knew he had bruised ribs. He could still taste the blood in his mouth and all he wanted to do was go after Eunseok and finish what the man had started. It wasn’t in Mingyu’s nature—at least as of late—to just “let it go”. 

Sitting down against the desk, Minghao runs his fingers through his hair, giving Mingyu a good once over. He had seen him be careless the last few weeks, but directly going against orders—even that was bold for him. He knew that you were attractive and could be a tease, that didn’t excuse Mingyu from thinking with his dick instead of his head. 

“If Jun finds out—”

“Why does he have to?” Rolling his neck from side to side, Mingyu lets out breath before lowering himself into a chair in front of Minghao. To him, this was simple. He knew that Minghao was Jun’s best friend, but he was also supposed to be his best friend. Where was his protection? Where was his bit of grace when he fucked up? He never got that. He just got sent to a corner or told to clean up someone's shit. 

Scoffing, Minghao rests his hands on the desk under him, studying Mingyu. “You think it’s just that easy? That I can lie to Jun about something to do with his sister?” Minghao shakes his head and looks towards a painting on the wall as Mingyu shifts in the seat, feeling anxious, ready to get up and leave. 

“Not like I’m knockin—” Before the rest of the words are out of his mouth, Minghao’s eyes are back on Mingyu and his mouth shuts as he rethinks his words again. “It’s just fun. It’s fun for her. I wouldn’t do anything to fuck it up. I’m not stupid.” 

That was up for debate as far as Minghao was concerned, especially with what had almost come out of Mingyu’s mouth. Just the idea of him getting you pregnant was enough to give Minghao a migraine and for him to watch Mingyu out of his sight. Lifting his hand, Minghao rubs at his eyes with a groan of annoyance as he shakes his head. His words are strained, and he regrets them as soon as they are spoken. “Just keep it to yourselves. I don’t want to see it and I don’t want to know about it. Jun will break your fuckin’ neck, Gyu.” 

Lifting two fingers to his forehead, Mingyu gives Minghao a sarcastic salute as he sighs and pushes out of the chair. “Got it, boss. I’m cuttin’ outta here early. I think getting the shit kicked out of me gives me a pass, don’t you?” 

There was something eating at Minghao about how Mingyu was acting, but he couldn’t blame him for wanting to leave a couple of hours early to get some rest after what had happened. Taking a deep breath, he nods before saying Mingyu’s name, watching the large man turn back towards him with a clenched jaw. “Text me when you get home. Just wanna make sure you're feelin’ okay. You were spittin’ up a lotta blood before.” 

Waving Minghao off, Mingyu mutters under his breath as he pushes the door open and his eyes move right for the exit. Minghao would be waiting a bit for that text. 

Mingyu wasn’t thinking clearly; he was just seeing red as he drove towards where he suspected Eunseok to be. Throwing his car into park, Mingyu winces as he looks at the back of the blacked out Cadillac. He knew he was in the way as Eunseok put the Cadillac in reverse and cursed under his breath while watching Mingyu get out of his vehicle and walk towards his door. 

“Get the fuck out.” Point his finger towards the window; Mingyu doesn’t need to see Eunseok’s face to know he can hear him. When he doesn’t open the door immediately, the red Mingyu had been seeing goes to black as he jerks the door open and reaches for the man. He grabs  Eunseok’s shirt under his hands and Mingyu grits his teeth, seething as he tries to pull him from the car. Falling back, he feels searing pain in his right arm. 

The sound of the gunshot doesn’t even register as much as Eunseok’s panicked breath and the way he fumbles the gun. Taking a step back, Mingyu looks down at his arm, the blood running along the brown leather and he acts before he thinks. His fingers wrap around the grip of his gun and before Eunseok can get off a second shot, Mingyu pulls the trigger, watching the man fall back across the center console. 

The ringing in Mingyu’s ears dulls to a low hum as the world seems to slow down. Calming down, his breath slowing, the pain in his arm becomes all the more apparent. Hissing under his breath, Mingyu rolls his shoulder before looking back into the Cadillac at Eunseok’s limp body. He was half expecting the man to move and to groan in pain, but nothing happened. 

Taking a step forward, Mingyu furrows his brows as he looks at the blood splattered across the dashboard. His eyes fall to Eunseok and the blood seeps from the wound on his chest. Wiping his hand across his lips, Mingyu groans, stopping himself from reaching for the door to steady himself. He hadn’t meant to kill him. It was self defense—instinct, but that didn’t stop the bile in his stomach from churning. 

“Fuck…” Glancing around the parking lot, Mingyu rakes his fingers through his hair, trying to keep himself calm, though his heart was beating hard, causing blood to seep even quicker from the gunshot in his bicep. There wasn’t a lot of time to stand and ponder, so acting on instinct once again, Mingyu reached for Eunseok’s jacket and took out his wallet. Pulling the cash from it, he pockets it and uses his shirt to wipe his prints from the leather before laying it on the man’s lap. 

It wasn’t perfect. If he had more time, he’d get rid of the car and Eunseok’s body completely, but the sun was going to rise soon, and Mingyu was bleeding too much. There was already a chance his blood was somewhere and if the cops looked too closely— no, he wouldn’t let himself think about that. 

Slamming the door shut, Mingyu wipes down the door handle and stumbles backwards, feeling the loose concrete under his feet as he takes one last look around. There had been many times when he had fucked up, but this time really took the cake. Mingyu slides behind the wheel of his car and winces in pain as he shifts it into reverse, the wheels spinning the gravel as he speeds off towards your penthouse. 

Minghao: Has Mingyu gotten in yet?

Y/N: No, he said he’d be back in the morning. 

Staring at your phone, you felt a sense of dread in your stomach. Why would Minghao be asking you about Mingyu? And why would he be asking if he was back yet? Something felt wrong. 

Pressing down on Mingyu’s name, you put your phone to your ear, listening to the sound of it ringing as you bite on your lips. If he were at the bar, he might not answer you. He had stopped answering your texts, but you had assumed he was busy. But then there was that text from Minghao. Wasn’t he also working? 

No answer. You start to pace, your lips starting to feel raw as you hit Mingyu’s name again and listen to the three rings and then Mingyu’s voice tells you he can’t come to the phone. “What the fuck, Mingyu?” 

Leaning against the door to the penthouse, Mingyu groans, feeling his phone go off in his pocket. He didn’t know if it was Minghao, Jun, you, or worse... but he just had one thing on his mind, getting inside. You drop your phone on the couch as you hear the sound of the door opening, rushing towards it. Stopping to lift your hands to your mouth in shock as Mingyu moves through the door and leans back against it to take a deep breath. 

Your eyes follow the blood as it drips from his jacket onto the white tile, keeping you frozen in place for only a moment until you rush forward and push at his jacket, trying to get it off. “Let me see it.” Shaking his head, Mingyu knocks his head back against the door at your panicked voice. In that moment, he forgets who you are, besides the girl he’s been flirting with. All he can think is that you are being dramatic, but your fingers on his face pulling his attention to you brings him back to reality. “Take off the fucking jacket, Mingyu. I need to see what happened. Is it a gunshot? I need to see if it went through or if I need to get the bullet out.” 

Mingyu’s brows furrow as he shrugs his shoulders, letting you remove his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You’re a doctor. That realization comes back to him as you tug his t-shirt sleeve up and carefully inspect his arm. “Gunshot.” One word. That's all Mingyu can manage, but it’s enough for you. Meeting his eyes, you nod and take his left hand, leading him through the living room and finally to the couch. 

“Sit down. I need to get a few things.” Pointing at the couch, you wait for Mingyu to sit, but when he doesn’t right away, you sigh and push at his chest to guide him down. “Y/N… I can deal with it myself. You don’t gotta—” 

As if you know what Mingyu is going to say, you give him a sharp look, leaning to press your lips against his, silencing him. Leaning back just enough to look him in the eye, you furrow your brows and let out a slow breath. “Stay here and stop fucking complaining.” 

Leaning his head back on the back of the couch, Mingyu takes a deep breath, feeling the throb in his arm. Without his jacket on, the pain was even more intense and it felt like you were taking your time. In reality, you were going through your bag as quickly as possible to find what medical supplies you had the forethought to pack. The gunshot on Mingyu’s arm wasn’t life threatening, it wasn’t even something you hadn’t dealt with before, but it was more that it was him. 

Your slippers hit the floor as you quickly make your way back to Mingyu, finding him already getting antsy. You knew he could be reckless but now he was being willfully ignorant. Mingyu clinched his teeth as he pushed the skin on his bicep together as if he were making anything about his situation better—as if without any tools he could mend it. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Mingyu?! Get your dirty hands off. I swear to God, are you just being stu—” You stop mid sentence when you meet Mingyu’s eyes, seeing what you swear are tears on the rims of his eyes. You knew he was in pain; he had to be. It was one thing to be shot, the bullet to go straight through, but whoever had shot him had almost missed him and the bullet had cut through muscle and flesh, leaving a good two to three inch gash, dripping blood angrily down his arm. 

Sitting beside him, your eyes follow Mingyu’s shaky hand as it drops to his lap, blood covering his fingers. “I’m not tryin’ to be stupid. Just… it fucking hurts, Y/N.” Your stomach twists at his words, but you keep your head pulling a pair of gloves on and moving closer to get to work. 

You didn’t have everything you would have in a normal hospital setting. There was no anesthetic. You didn’t have anything to make your needle less painful as you worked it through Mingyu’s skin, and yet he didn’t complain. The most you heard from him were sharp breaths and the occasional grunt, but when you put in the final stitch and meet his eyes, Mingyu gives you an exhausted nod. 

“It’s not the best work I’ve ever done. If you had gotten here sooner and didn’t fuck with it, I might have been able to save you from some of the scarring, but—” Mingyu’s eyes follow you as you take off your soiled gloves and put them into a bag, along with a few other things, and your voice falls off into a soft breath. He didn’t care about the scar. He had plenty; another one wasn’t going to change anything. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Mingyu’s words cause you to scoff. Moving to your feet, you carefully discard the items you used before making your way to the sink to scrub your hands. He had no idea how much he had scared you and how much it frightened you that you felt anything about it. “Comes with the job. I mean, not all the time. Shit happened tonight. I didn’t mean—” 

Lifting your hands, you look up at Mingyu and shake your head, watching his mouth close, his explanation go unfinished. “I’m not sure I want the specifics. I’m just glad you aren’t any more hurt than this. When I saw the blood—” Letting out a breath, you turn off the sink and lean over the counter, looking down at the white quartz countertop under your fingers. “I know you are used to getting hurt, but it scared the shit out of me, Mingyu.” 

The bile that Mingyu felt after seeing what he had done to Eunseok churns in his stomach once again as you speak. His eyes move over your pretty face as you look at the countertop, as if it will ground you. This was why he didn’t get too close to people. If he got hurt or killed, no one would care. No one should care. Why would you care? But if you got hurt, the idea of it—thinking about you hurting like he was tonight—made Mingyu want to scream.

“Well, I’m fine, baby. You patched me up, and if you think I look bad, should’a seen the other guy.” It was a bad attempt at de-escalating the situation and Mingyu knew it. He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Shaking his head, Mingyu looks down at his blood stained fingers as you take a sharp breath, seeming to realize the magnitude of the situation. Mingyu had been shot. Someone had to have been firing that gun. What had happened to the one holding it? 

“What about the other guy, Mingyu?” Moving around the kitchen island, you wait for Mingyu to answer you, but instead he stands up and winces at the way the muscle in his arm pulls. Shaking his head, he avoids your eyes, looking towards the hallway, before bringing his hand up to his lips to start to wipe them, only to smell the copper and stop. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep. Thanks again, Doc.” 

Leaning his head back into the stream of water, Mingyu sighs, feeling the stress of the day weighing on him. He had thought that things were getting better. You had been a great distraction for a bit, but today was a painful reminder that his life wasn’t going to change. The pain radiating down into his fingertips was enough of a sign that this was all he was going to get. 

There was a reason that Mingyu was the way he was. He didn’t speak to his family. He didn’t keep women around for more than a night. The friends he had were all in the same line of business as he was and he wasn’t sure if things came to push or shove or if some of them would take a bullet for him. Mingyu was good at keeping people at a distance and it was for a good reason. 

You had been in his life for less than a week; barely anything had happened between the two of you, and already Mingyu was stressed over you getting hurt. He didn’t want to hurt you or be the cause of it. That had been the main reason he had gone after Eunseok the way he had. If Eunseok hadn’t seen your name, maybe Mingyu would have come back to the penthouse and called it a night. Maybe he could have let everything go, but seeing that smirk on the man’s lips and thinking of a dozen things that could happen to you had sent him over the edge. 

Leaning his forehead against the shower wall, Mingyu runs his tongue over his lips, collecting the water from them as he curses himself mentally. What would you think he told you about why he had killed a person tonight? What would you think if you really understood that he had killed someone? You’d be terrified of him, and rightfully so, but that was Mingyu’s life. That was this life that Jun was trying to keep you from. 

Hitting his head lightly against the tile as he groans, having made up his mind, Mingyu stands at his full height and reaches over to turn off the shower with more force than necessary. Things had been fun while they lasted but if he was going to keep you safe—safe from him—he needed to distance himself from you. Jun would be back in another week and you would be out of his hair. He just needed to do the bare minimum and keep you out of trouble. You weren’t important to him. 

Even thinking the lie made Mingyu feel sick to his stomach as he swiped his hand across the mirror, wiping the condensation from it. His eyes move to his arm and your careful work. While he was in pain, Mingyu knew it could be much worse. He had been in worse situations before, with hack-job doctors patching him up, leaving him with infections. Being careful not to touch the stitches, Mingyu furrows his brows as he runs his fingers along his bicep and sighs your name under his breath as if it will make his plan any easier. 

A towel around his waist, Mingyu pushes the door to his bathroom open, still going over what he’s going to say to you once he’s dressed, only to stop in his tracks when he sees you sitting on his bed. Every thought of pushing you away almost instantaneously slips from his mind when you give him a sad smile, lifting your shoulders as your eyes move over his body finally landing on his arm. 

“I wanna wrap your arm. You need to keep it clean and dry.” Looking down at the gauze in your hand, you try not to focus on how Mingyu’s body makes you feel, because in that moment, it’s not why you are there. You had come to his room to help him and to tell him something important; it wasn’t your fault that he was wet and almost naked. Clearing your throat, you nod, still looking at your hands and listening to the sound of Mingyu’s feet on the wood floor as you speak. “And I wanted to apologize for what I asked earlier. It’s not my place to question your job. I know you are doing your best. Mingyu—” 

Fingers slide along your jaw and the heel of Mingyu’s hand lifts, tilting your head up towards him as he stands next to the bed in front of you. You can see the sadness in his eyes and it makes you want to question him, but instead you just whine his name one more time, breaking his resolve completely. There was no staying away from you, no doing the bare minimum—that was the stupidest idea Mingyu had ever thought of. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of your soft lips against his as he leaned over you. 

Your fingers flex in the air before you reach for something in front of you, one hand finding Mingyu’s waist and the other his forearm. The feeling of his damp skin under your hands grounds you and reminds you why you were there in the first place, giving you the strength to pull back from the kiss even as Mingyu chases your lips. “Wait, no, I want it. Please, Mingyu… I want this. I just—let me wrap your arm first. Okay, baby?” 

Baby. Hearing that name on your lips causes Mingyu to shudder, his mouth falling open as he nods silently. You tug gently on his arm, bringing him towards the bed, feeling shy under his intense gaze. Your touch is gentle as you work the gauze around Mingyu’s bicep a few times, covering the wound completely. Mingyu smirks to himself, watching how your brows crease in the middle when you concentrate, being careful to place the medical tape in the right places before finally meeting his eyes. 

“Am I allowed to kiss you now? Can I move?” You make an unsure sound at Mingyu’s question even as he takes the roll of tape from your hands and puts it on the nightstand beside you. “I—yes, but you have to be careful, and... take these first.” Dodging another kiss, you listen to Mingyu groan in frustration as you swipe two pills from the nightstand and offer them to him along with a glass of water. 

“What are they?” Furrowing his brows as he looks at the pills in your palm, Mingyu extends his own hand for you to drop them into before popping them into your mouth without hearing the explanation first. “Vicodin… I don’t have a lot with me, but I keep a few things... just in case.” 

Taking a gulp of the water, Mingyu nods along with your words, feeling grateful. He knew he would have had his own way of coping with pain, but your way seemed safer in hindsight. Letting you take the glass of water back, Mingyu tilts his head, waiting for you to stop him once again, but a small smile on your lips causes one to pull on his own. Using his left hand, Mingyu wraps it around your waist and tugs you down in bed, relishing in the sound of your surprised breath as he leans over your body and smiles against your lips. 

“Be careful… don’t pop your stitches.” Lightly running your fingers along Mingyu’s right arm, you stay away from the end of the gauze as Mingyu moves his lips to your jaw, speaking between kisses. “‘M fine. I don’t need that arm for this. Just need your clothes off.” 

Your mind felt clouded from the moment that Mingyu’s lips were on your skin. You couldn’t think of anything other than him. You were enjoying the warmth of his breath on your neck, the way his nails scratched at your skin as he pulled your clothes from your body, and how big he felt against your thigh under his towel. 

Tracing his side, you arch your back as Mingyu’s lips brush over your nipple, his teeth catching the bud between them with a groan. Your fingers push into the top of the towel wrapped around Mingyu’s waist and a soft chuckle against your breast tells you everything that you need to know. Glancing down at where the towel had once been, Mingyu shakes his head and tosses it to the ground, letting you feel his leaking cock against your skin. 

“If you wanted my cock out all you had to do was tell me, sweetheart.” Your eyes fall to where you feel Mingyu rut against your leg and your lips fall open in a soft moan at the sight. He was perfect. Everything about him. From his face, to his body, to his cock… he was everything you wanted in a lover. “Oh my god, Mingyu. Let me ride you.” 

That hadn’t been what Mingyu had expected. Smirking, he presses a soft kiss on your chest as he meets your eyes and tilts his head. “Yeah, that’s what you want? You don’t want me to fuck you into the mattress?” Whining, you lean your head back, trying to escape his eyes, only for Mingyu to reach up with his left hand to tilt your head back towards him before he works his kisses along your stomach, downwards. “Asked you a question, pretty girl.” 

Lifting your hips, you whimper, feeling Mingyu’s breath fanning across your folds as he moves your legs apart so he can rest between them. Putting one leg over his left shoulder, the other bent up and resting to the side, he keeps his eyes on you as he runs his index finger through your wet folds, waiting patiently for you to speak. 

“Yes… I mean—fuck, Mingyu. Can’t I ride you tonight? You can have me anyway you want later. Rest your arm. Let me sit on it.” The more you speak, the more embarrassed you get, and your voice gets meeker and meeker. You watch as Mingyu’s smirk spreads into a grin and he leans to press a kiss on your inner thigh before nipping lightly at the soft skin. 

“Mmkay, angel. You can sit on my dick, but first I gotta make sure you even can.” Before you can speak, question him about what you already know he’s going to do. Mingyu runs his tongue in a long stripe from your dripping hole to your clit with a groan. Choking back a moan, you grab at the comforter under you, getting flashbacks at how hard he had made you cum at breakfast with his tongue. 

“Please, please, please...” Mingyu wasn’t sure what you were begging for, but he wanted to give it to you. He didn’t want to make you wait for an orgasm tonight because, in his mind, that only prolonged his and he was already leaking obscenely as he rocked his hips against the bed under him. The sound of you moaning his name alone was enough to make him feel like he was going to cum, but this time he was determined to feel your pussy around his cock. 

Working two fingers into you, Mingyu pulls back from your soaked folds to watch your mouth fall open with a silent gasp at the intrusion. You were so tight that even two fingers were stretching you out. He was bigger than two of his fingers, and you were making his mind spin with how you were fucking yourself on them, begging for more. 

“Yeah? More? Fuck, you are such a pretty little slut. Taking my fingers so good in this tight cunt. What if I—” Pushing a third in beside the first two, Mingyu groans, resting his forehead against your thigh when your moan raises an octave, your walls closing around his fingers like a vice. “That’s my girl… Want you to cum for me. You want my cock? You better cum for me.” 

Throwing your head back against the pillows, you scream Mingyu’s name as your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave. Even if Mingyu hadn’t told you to cum for him the moment his fingers had filled you the way they had, you were a goner. He seemed to know what made you tick and exactly what to do to make you fall apart, and he did it so well. 

Chuckling under his breath, Mingyu brushes his lips along your jaw before pressing a kiss to your lips and nodding to the feeling of your cum soaking his fingers. After a few more thrusts of his fingers, he carefully slides them away from you and groans to the feeling of your body trying to suck them back in. “You are so fucking greedy, angel. What are you doing to me?” 

Shaking your head, you whine out Mingyu’s name, trying to answer his question, but you don't know the answer. You weren’t necessarily trying to do anything to him, you just wanted him more than anyone you had ever wanted in your entire life. Groaning on your lips, Mingyu trails his wet fingers along your hip to your side, pushing you down on the bed until you push at his chest, making him laugh. You were persistent. 

“I know, baby. I promised. It’s yours.” Licking his lips, Mingyu turns to roll from laying on top of you to resting beside you, adjusting a pillow behind his head. When you meet his eyes, you can’t help but roll your eyes at how cocky he looks. You watch as he licks his fingers clean of your cum and smiles around them, lifting his brows as he waits for you to get moving. 

“You are insufferable.” Mingyu laughs at your words, his eyes moving along your body as you move to your knees and slide one leg over his thighs so you can sit over them. Even he had to admit that it was a beautiful fucking view. He could feel his cock jerk and leak from just the sight of you; he couldn’t imagine what he was going to do once he was inside of you. “Yeah? Maybe, but you are the one who’s gonna be sitting on my cock.” 

Mingyu’s fingers slide along your thighs as he smirks up at you. He looked too good to be true, lying somewhat impatiently under you. It was almost unfair how perfect he could look even with the gauze wrapped around his arm, a bit of crimson seeping through from movement. Grabbing his right hand, you pin it to the bed gently as you shake your head and wrap your other hand around the shaft of his cock, stroking him slowly. “Keep this arm down.” 

Groaning, Mingyu lifts his hips towards your hand and flexes the fingers of his right hand, tightening them into a fist as he grips at your thigh with his left. He both loved and hated this. He loved your hands on him, but he wanted to be inside of you so badly that he wanted to put you back on your back. He wanted to have you on his cock and screaming his name, but instead you had him whining yours. 

“Fu—fuck. Don’t tease. I haven’t… I didn’t tease you tonight. Said you wanted to ride me, so ride it.” Mingyu’s strained words have your eyebrows lifting in surprise. Pre-cum was running along your fingers with each stroke of your hand and you were beginning to wonder if you kept doing this for too long if he’d cum. From the sounds leaving his lips, you were almost certain he would. 

Moving to your knees, you press your hand to the center of Mingyu’s chest as you use the other to keep his cock exactly where you want him. Your eyes never leave his face as you slowly take him inch by inch until you are sitting flush against his hips, your mouth falling open in a soft moan. 

Mingyu tried to keep his hands down and do what you had told him to do, but the moment he was inside of you—feeling you around him for the first time—he felt like his brain was going to explode. Hands grab at your waist as Mingyu groans, trying to sit up and move you over him, desperate to get some relief. 

“Why can’t you do what I told you? Be good, Gyu.” Your words were driving him insane. You had to know what you were doing. Your soft fingers trail over Mingyu’s arm, putting his hand back on the bed next to him as your other hand slides up his chest, forcing him back down on the bed. 

Rolling your hips down over Mingyu, you have to close your eyes and take a breath, feeling just how much his cock is stretching you. You knew he was big. There was no way you hadn’t noticed, but seeing it and feeling it was different. There was so much about Mingyu that you were getting used to and you were becoming addicted to the feeling. 

“I just—fuck, Y/N. Feel so fuckin’ good. Ride me, baby. Bounce on my cock, huh? You are squeezing the hell out of me.” You knew you were doing it even before Mingyu told you. No matter how much you tried to relax, it was hard to do as you felt him rutting his hips up towards yours. 

Bracing yourself with one hand on Mingyu’s chest and the other holding his left hand, you nod and fall back to your knees, lifting yourself up before sitting back down. The feeling is overwhelming in all the best ways. You can feel how deep Mingyu is inside of you. You can feel the pressure building in your lower abdomen and rising even towards your chest as tears coat your eyes. 

Mingyu furrows his brows, his eyes fixed on your face, as you get into a rhythm moving over his cock. Each time your ass meets his thighs, he thrusts his hips up hard, listening to you cry out in pleasure. 

“Please, it feels so good, Mingyu. I need to cum.” The words are almost spoken on a sob as you start to slow down, getting tired. Mingyu can tell you are frustrated not only by getting tired but also by your desire. Using his left arm, he wraps it around your waist and flips you on your back, reaching between the two of you to push his cock back into you in one fluid motion. 

Surprised, you reach for Mingyu’s right arm, only for him to pin your hand to the bed with his right hand and thrust into you hard and deep. “I’m fine… just need you to cum on my cock. That’d make me feel better. Wouldn’t it make you feel better, angel?” 

Nodding, tears running from your eyes towards your temples, you whine Mingyu’s name as his thrusts become urgent, almost desperate, pushing you over the edge. Lips find your throat, a deep groan of pleasure leaves Mingyu’s throat as he slips from you and you feel warm, sticky cum spill from him on to your stomach. 

Running your fingers through Mingyu’s hair, you lick your lips while trying to catch your breath, feeling him do the same in the crook of your neck. It takes a few minutes before he finally sits back and his eyes move along the length of your body, finally resting on your stomach, where his cum paints your body. 

Shaking his head, Mingyu doesn’t even try to hide his smirk as he pushes his index finger through the cum, spreading it over your skin and enjoying seeing it on you. “That feels gross.” Chuckling under his breath at your complaint, Mingyu lifts his brows, dragging his finger up towards your breast, stopping short and moving his eyes to yours. “But you look so fucking sexy covered in my cum, sweetheart. Almost hate to wash it off of you.” 

Lowering your eyes to where his fingers rest on your ribs, you let out a faux annoyed sound that makes Mingyu laugh once again, his lips meeting yours as you smile, speaking between gentle kisses. “Then I guess you’ll just have to fuck me more often, Kim Mingyu…” 

With a gentle nip at your bottom lip, Mingyu pulls back to look down at you once more before finally moving to stand at the side of the bed and reaching for his discarded towel. You suck in your stomach at the feeling of his fingers pushing against it, cleaning his cum from your body so delicately as he purses his lips. “Maybe I will.” 

Despite pain being what wakes him up first, Mingyu finds himself staring at you as you lay facing him in the low light of the bedroom. It didn’t matter if he felt like shit; if his arm felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, he still managed to turn on his side and lift his left arm so that he could carefully touch you. 

In Mingyu’s opinion, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. You made him jealous of the sun as it slowly creeped along your exposed skin. He couldn’t help but give in to his temptation, gently following the light with his fingers as he walked them along your skin. You made him wish for more; you made him wish for this… Things that seemed so far from what he knew. Life with you seemed like it could be so simple and more importantly, it seemed so warm. Mingyu had never felt so warm. 

All of those feelings are ripped away from him by the sound of his cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. It wouldn’t be his mom or his dad. It wouldn’t be his sister or an aunt calling to ask if he was having a good day; there were only a few people it could be and as he turned over to pick it up, the searing pain in his arm and blood staining the sheets from where it had leaked through the gauze reminded Mingyu even more that his life wasn’t simple and warm. He was cold and impossible. This with you was an impossible, stupid, childish dream, and Mingyu needed to wake up. 

Giving one more lingering look at you lying peacefully in bed, Mingyu grabs his phone from the nightstand, a pair of pants from a chair, and moves into the living room. “Yeah?” 

That wasn’t how Minghao expected or wanted Mingyu to answer his call, but it didn’t surprise him. Nothing did anymore. At least he was alive, even if he did sound worse for wear. “So you do know how to pick up the phone. What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Sitting down on the couch, Mingyu glances over at his arm, his brows knitted together at not only Minghao’s nagging, but also the feeling of the gauze sticking to his stitches. Pulling at the tape, he sighs and balances the phone on his left shoulder as he unwraps his arm, realizing he had forgotten to call Minghao the night before. “I just got busy—” 

“Fuck you. I know exactly what you were doing.” At first, Mingyu wonders if Minghao knows about you and him, but when Minghao continues, it’s even worse. “Lucky for you, the dumb ass cops in that district actually believe it’s a mugging gone wrong. At least you aren’t a complete fuckin’ idiot.” 

Wadding the gauze up in his hand, Mingyu leans his head back and lets out a longer sigh. Minghao was worse than a parent when things happened that weren’t ideal. No, killing Eunseok wasn’t ideal, but it had happened and now, in Mingyu’s mind, at least the cops weren’t looking for him. At least they didn’t think it was linked to the lounge. "Well, thanks; it means a lot coming from you. Sorry I inconvenienced you, Hao.” 

Minghao had heard of Mingyu’s pity parties and been there for his mental breakdowns, but this one was the worst. Lifting his hand to the bridge of his nose, Minghao shakes his head and sighs. The call suddenly becomes quiet, causing Mingyu to shift on the couch anxiously. As much as he put on a brave face and stood up to Minghao, he still didn’t want him to be that disappointed in him; he didn’t want to cause major problems. 

“It—look…I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t fix it. I can’t really fucking fix it. It happened so fucking fast.” Mingyu knew he was rambling, but the self loathing that he always felt was bubbling to the surface. He felt the disappointment even through the phone. “He shot me and I reacted—” 

“He shot you? What the fuck? Are you okay? I fuckin’ told you to call me Mingyu!” Hearing the sound of Minghao moving around, grabbing keys, and god knows what else, Mingyu sits up, his voice strained as he tries to calm his friend down. “I’m fine! A bad graze, but... it’s fine. I should have called. You don’t have to come here. I can come to you if you want.” 

Stopping in the doorway of his apartment, Minghao narrows his eyes and grips the doorframe tightly as he sighs and takes a step backwards. “You need to get one of Jun’s guys to look at it. You can’t just hold it together with shitty tape like you tried to do with your leg—” 

“I’m not! Y/N…” Minghao has to listen even closer to hear Mingyu when he speaks softer, his volume dropping almost to a whisper, as if he’s afraid you might hear him. “Y/N, she stitched it up.” 

Minghao isn’t sure if that is better or worse. The fact that a doctor—a real hands to god doctor—had taken care of him but that same doctor was you. You had seen some of the worst parts of what he and Jun tried to keep from you. Mingyu was reckless and stupid. “She’s supposed to be kept away from this shit, Mingyu. Remember that? Or is that something you forgot, like keeping your dick in your pants?” 

Leaning forward, Mingyu rests his head in his hand. The words should have made him mad, but after waking up and having his own coming to Jesus moment, he knew that Minghao was right. “I know. I fucked up. She’s too good for this, she’s way too good to be messed up with a piece of shit like me.” 

There was truth to Mingyu’s words, but there was also a lot of self loathing mixed in that made Minghao even more pissed off and concerned about him. It wasn’t that he wanted Mingyu with you, but he also didn’t think that he was the biggest piece of shit that you had ever had the misfortune to lock lips with. There were worse choices, even if this choice was a walking headache at the moment. 

“She is good. She’s too good for all of us, Jun included, but that doesn’t mean—” Mingyu listens to Minghao sigh loudly, cutting himself off. “Nevermind, lay low. I don’t want you in or around the bar for a while.” 

The last thing that Mingyu wanted to do was avoid the bar. He wanted to keep his mind busy and not dwell on what had happened, but even as he starts to argue, Minghao is quick to shut him down. “I’m not asking! Jun left me in charge, so you’ll do as I say. If the cops come snoopin’ around, I don’t need your big dumb ass here.” 

Of course, Minghao would pull the ‘I’m in charge’ card now. Mingyu knew he was right, it would be stupid to go to the last place that he and Eunseok were seen together, but it wasn’t like him to hide. Groaning under his breath, Mingyu nods before sitting up and letting out a deep breath. “Fine. Whatever you want.” 

Minghao hated benching Mingyu; he needed him at the bar in reality, but he had done this to himself and now he had to clean up the mess. “Glad you understand. I’ll call you later.” 

You smile softly, feeling warmth on your hip and walking along your side. In your head, you picture Mingyu’s fingers causing that warm feeling. You can see him lying beside you, his eyes moving along your body as you slowly wake up, but when you open your eyes, you only see a bit of blood on the white sheet where he had been. Your smile is quickly replaced by a look of concern as you sit up and look around the room for him, only to see a pair of pants you had seen yesterday missing from a chair. 

Running your hands along your arms, you realize how cold the room suddenly feels without him. One more look at the splotches of blood tells you his gauze needs to be changed out and his stitches checked, but maybe he was taking care of something. Looking for your cell phone, you grab it from the nightstand and furrow your brows at a missed call from Jun. It had been a few days since he had checked in, and you find yourself missing him. The trip had originally been to see him and catch up, but the timing had been off. 

Glancing down the hall, you hear Mingyu’s voice low and a bit tense as he talks to someone on the phone. Wanting to give him time and privacy, you turn towards your bedroom and put your phone on the nightstand, hitting Jun’s name and putting it on speaker phone so you can talk to him and get dressed at the same time. 

“Sleeping in late on your impromptu vacation?” At first, Jun’s voice makes you smile until you hear the strain in it. There was a layer of anxiety that you could pick up on even in another country or through a phone call. “A little bit... what’s wrong?” 

Jun wanted to be in the pool with his fiancée. He wanted to be enjoying the island and getting drunk, but instead this afternoon he was trying not to rip his hair out. “Just wanting to check on my sister. Is that a crime? I miss you.” 

While you could believe most of what Jun was telling you, the way his voice sounded kept you on edge as you pursed your lips and pulled a pair of jeans up your legs. “I miss you too. How’s your vacation? How’s Haneul?” 

Jun watches the sun move across the water as Haneul moves through it with a smile on her face, unaware of the situation, just as he likes it. Meeting her eyes for a moment, Jun winks at his pretty fiancée before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “She’s perfect. The island is nice. You should have just met us here; there’d be less idiotic temptation.” 

Rolling your eyes, you scoff at hearing what you think is the main reason why Jun sounds like he does. Obviously, he had heard something about you and Mingyu. Your scoff doesn’t go unnoticed by your brother, who lifts his brows and lets out his own scoff before starting to scold you. “I told you to be good while I was gone. You insisted on this trip even though you knew I wasn’t going to be there. I knew leaving you with that whore was a mistake.” 

Hearing Jun call Mingyu a whore makes you stop what you are doing as you laugh at how ridiculous it sounds. Tugging your shirt down your torso, you shake your head before looking up at the ceiling and starting to tell him as much when Jun speaks first. “I know it sounds funny, Y/N, but I’m not kidding, okay? He goes through women faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. He’s not good for you. He’s dangerous.” 

Jun telling you that anyone was dangerous also seemed like a joke, but you had spent the night before putting stitches into Mingyu’s arm, so you knew there was a layer of truth to it. Swallowing hard, you look back down at your hands, shaking your head once more. “Jun—I… come on. He’s so sweet—” 

“So he can get in your pants, Y/N! Use that smart brain of yours. Have your fun, but know that he’s not serious and he really is dangerous. I’m not joking about that.” You try to come up with the right words to tell Jun that you don’t care, that you aren’t afraid of Mingyu, and that he can change. But feeling eyes on you from the doorway, you turn to meet Mingyu’s gaze. The look in his eyes is disappointed but resigned and it breaks your heart. 

“I gotta go.” Jun tries to argue with you, telling you that he needs to know that you understand, but you are quick to end the call, watching Mingyu shake his head and turn from your room, moving towards his own. “Mingyu! He’s–where are you going? Don’t worry about what Jun says. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Mingyu knew you’d say something like that. You were a good person, a sweet girl, but your brother was right. Grabbing a shirt, Mingyu pulls it over his head and runs his fingers through his hair as he hears you move into the room behind him. “You should listen to him. He’s my boss for a reason. I’m trouble, just like he said.” 

Reaching out for him, you get your hand around his waist only to feel his shirt slip from your fingers as Mingyu scoffs and sidesteps out of your grasp. “Y/N, grow up. If last night, seeing that shit didn’t prove it to you, you must be fuckin’ stupid.” 

Turning to face you, Mingyu isn’t surprised to see a shocked look on your face at hearing him call you stupid. His words bite at your confidence, but mostly at your heart. You can see the look in Mingyu’s eyes—how he is trying to push you away by hurting you—and it only makes your heart hurt worse. 

“Stop it. Why—no, I’m not stupid. I know who you are. Don’t do this, Gyu.” You sound so desperate and almost like you are in love with him that Mingyu’s chest feels like it’s going to implode. He wants to give into you, pull you into his arms and tell you how sorry he is for calling you stupid, but that isn’t how to fix this. He had to keep you safe, and safe is as far away from him as possible. 

“Do what? Tell a little girl the truth. Wake the fuck up, sweetheart. Use those brains you claim to have. I got fuckin’ shot yesterday. You think that’s a one time thing?” Watching tears coat your eyes, Mingyu takes a step towards you, even as you take one backward. “You think you are special? Like you are the only girl I’ve fucked? Nah, another notch in my belt.” 

Mingyu’s words are like a gut punch and as much as you know he is trying to hurt you, he is succeeding. Once he has walked you out into the hallway, Mingyu gives you one last look. The pain of seeing tears running down your cheeks is unbearable, but he keeps himself stone faced as you follow him into the living room, watching him pull on his damaged leather jacket, wincing in pain. “Where are you going? Do you think it’s a good idea to go out?” 

Speaking between sniffing back tears, you aren’t even sure Mingyu hears you as he shoves his gun into the holster on his side until he gives you a passing glance. Shrugging, he grabs his keys, shoves them into his pocket and lets out a deep sigh. “Who gives a fuck?” 

Sitting at the bar of the Dovetail Casino, Mingyu taps the glass in front of him to signal to the pretty bartender to fill it back up. He was on his fourth drink and had no intention of slowing down. Beside him, Jeon Wonwoo watches as Mingyu’s phone goes off for the umpteenth time. Someone was trying to get into him desperately and clearly Mingyu had no intention of picking it up as he once again reached over to decline the call. 

“Don’t wanna talk to Y/N?” Scoffing at hearing your name on the lawyer’s lips, Mingyu rolls his eyes and smiles at the bartender as she fills his glass up with whiskey once more. “You shouldn’t read other people’s phones. Don’t they teach that in lawyer school?” 

While Wonwoo didn’t know who you exactly were, it didn’t really matter; you clearly mattered to Mingyu, and the two of you were having a fight of some sort. He had been a lawyer long enough to recognize that, though anyone with eyes could probably tell that Mingyu was getting drunk for a reason. “Girlfriend?” 

Shooting Wonwoo a dirty look, Mingyu tips his glass back, ice meeting his lips, slowing down how quickly the alcohol can pour into his mouth, but only by a slight margin. The sound of the glass hitting the wooden bar makes Wonwoo hiss, knowing he was either on the right track or he had hit a nerve. 

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just some stupid girl with some idea of me that she’s made up in her head. She thinks she’ll get some white picket fence with me.” Gesturing towards himself, Mingyu scoffs and Wonwoo gives his friend a once over sigh, knowing what he is trying to say as Mingyu continues. “She’s an idiot to be so fucking smart and beautiful…” 

Wonwoo brings his own glass to his lips, nursing it much slower than Mingyu was. Mingyu was already getting drunk, while Wonwoo was barely filling a buzz. Wonwoo could see what was happening even if Mingyu didn’t want to. Just from the brief description of you that he had gotten, he knew that Mingyu was full of shit. You might not “be his girlfriend,” but that didn’t stop Mingyu from being into you. 

“Why is it bothering you so much? This is the girl you’ve been watching.” Watching Mingyu nod and look at his now empty glass, Wonwoo sighs as Mingyu lifts his hand, asking for a fifth drink. “Just have Minghao take over. It’s that easy, right? Then you don’t have to be with her all the fucking time.” 

It could be that easy, but hearing Wonwoo say it made Mingyu want to throw up. Maybe it was all the whiskey on an empty stomach, but Mingyu didn’t want anyone else watching over you. He didn’t care if Minghao was like family to you; he had been asked to do this and he wasn’t going to just give up.

“What—no. Just admit I’m a failure. Do I look like a fuckin’ failure to you?” Hearing Wonwoo sigh, Mingyu looks back down at his empty glass, the ice melting, wishing the bartender would be a bit quicker about filling it up. “She leaves next week.” His words are quieter than they had been the entire time the two had been sitting at the bar. 

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but he hated the idea of you getting on that plane. He hated that you were sitting at home pissed off at him and worse, he had made you sad. Yes, he had done it on purpose, but he had his reasons. If you were mad at him, if you distanced yourself from him, it would be easier to watch you leave him. 

Nodding, Wonwoo furrows his brows, seeing the pain on Mingyu’s face as the bartender tells Mingyu he’s reached his limit and she won't give him another for a while. It was for the best, he could tell Mingyu didn’t need anything else to drink; he was staring at the empty glass like it was a life preserver, even though the alcohol that had been in it was only helping him to sink further. Wonwoo understood the feeling better than Mingyu probably realized. 

“My advice, whether you want it or not, get your shit together. Don’t lose her because of your pride and because you think you know best.” Furrowing his brows, Mingyu glances over at Wonwoo, trying to figure out how he’d know so much about what he was thinking about, but the look on his friend’s face, the pain written in his eyes make him stop and just listen. “Trust me, I understand something about losing someone who means so much to you. Wishing you could go back and change who you were… Don’t fuck it up like me.” 

Mingyu wants to ask what happened, who Wonwoo had lost, but he watches as Wonwoo tips his drink back, draining it before putting it back down on the bar with a sigh. He had never seen Wonwoo look so sad and stuck in the past before and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to again. 

Digging the spoon out of the ice cream once again, you bring it to your lips as you sniff back your tears, your eyes not really focusing on what is on the television in front of you. After Mingyu had left, you had resorted to a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream while sitting on your bed and trying to become one with it. 

You had been through plenty of breakups in the past, but Mingyu’s words hurt you worse than any other man’s ever had. You knew he had been trying to hurt you and you also knew he was full of shit. He didn’t really mean it, even if he was trying so hard to convince himself that he did. For some reason, he wanted you to hate him and the longer you sat in bed, the ice cream in your lap disappeared. You felt like it was a possibility. 

But as much as you wanted to give into that feeling, just hate him, you could still feel how good it felt to be in his arms. To feel his lips and fingers on your skin as he made you feel comfortable and safe. So instead of hate, you just felt depressed. You were beginning to wonder if you should look at available flights to leave early. 

Standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall, Mingyu watches you pout into your glass of wine before you follow the sip with a bite of ice cream. You were adorable as you paid more attention to what was on your phone, sniffing back your emotions, than you did to whatever you had playing on the television.  

He knew he should just make a right into his room and leave you alone, but all Mingyu can hear are Wonwoo’s words echoing in his mind. ‘Don’t fuck it up like me.’ You drove him crazy. No other woman had made Mingyu feel like this. He knows he could keep lying to you, keep making you cry and watch you get on that plane in a week, but just the thought of it makes Mingyu’s stomach churn. 

Taking one step after another, Mingyu moves into your bedroom, drawing your eyes up from your phone to him. You can’t help the surprised look on your face as he reaches for the remote, turns the television off and tosses the remote into the chair without a second glance. “Mingyu…” Your voice is soft, confused, and full of hurt. The sound of it breaks Mingyu’s heart and his resolve as he takes the ice cream out of your lap and puts it on the nightstand with your wine before sliding his hand along the side of your face and pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss isn’t rushed and it is so different from every other kiss that you and Mingyu have shared up to that moment. Mingyu’s tongue glides along yours as you moan softly into the deep kiss, your fingers grabbing at his jacket, tears already running down your cheeks as your emotions get the better of you. Leaning back, Mingyu brushes his thumbs over your cheeks, then presses kisses on each one before standing up to his full height and taking his clothes off piece by piece before repeating the process with you. 

You feel your head spin once his lips are back on yours and your back is on the mattress. Mingyu’s body pressed against yours. He groaned into your mouth, feeling your hand slide along his hip towards his cock before leaning back to wrap his hand around yours, bringing your fingers to his lips. 

“Just let me...” The sentence seems unfinished, but you nod, feeling Mingyu’s fingers slide along your forearm as his lips find your jaw and work to your neck, leaving you breathless. He had kissed you before. You had felt his lips almost all over your body, but this was different. He was almost worshiping your body this time and he wasn’t in a rush. 

It was as if Mingyu was seeing you—really seeing you for the first time. He was taking the time to touch every mole or scar on your body and then kiss it before meeting your eyes when you sighed out his name. If Mingyu hadn’t been addicted to you before this, now there was no way he could deny it. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful. Sound so pretty for me. Wanna… just—” Mingyu was talking to you—or more so, he was talking at you as he worked his kisses along your leg and towards your inner thigh. When his lips meet your wet, soft folds, you lift your hips off the bed and Mingyu groans quietly, gently pushing you back down. Any other time he would have pinned you to the bed and devoured you but this time his touch was gentle; you were floating from it and the feeling of his tongue circling your clit. 

It doesn’t take long before your thighs are closed around Mingyu’s head, his groans muffled as his hands grip your hips, holding you close to him until you fall apart on his tongue. When your legs start to tremble, you let out a sob of Mingyu’s name, your fingers running through his hair as you push your hips into the bed, asking for mercy. Smiling against your now swollen folds, Mingyu presses one more kiss on your pussy before pushing himself up on the bed with his left arm to watch you try to catch your breath, coming down from your orgasm. 

“Taste so good, baby. I could do that all damn night.” Shaking your head, you reach for Mingyu, whining as he laughs and moves up in bed between your legs. His lips once again find your neck and you try to continue to come down from your orgasm, but when Mingyu nips at your skin, you moan his name, making him smile. “Love hearing my name on your lips so fuckin’ much. Wanna hear it all the time. Can I?” 

At first, you aren’t sure if he’s asking for you to say his name again or something else, but his fingers brushing through your sensitive folds before he does the same with the head of his cock makes you understand. He hadn’t asked any other time; why this time? Did it even matter why? It seemed to matter to your heart as your chest tightened when you nodded and whispered out your pleas for him to get inside of you. 

Carefully pushing the head of his cock into you, Mingyu closes his eyes and groans to the feeling of your warmth pulling him in. He feels the urge to just bury himself into you in one hard thrust, but instead he prolongs it. Meeting your eyes, he watches your mouth fall open in a moan as slowly, inch by inch, he pushes into your walls, letting them hug him tight. “Holy shit. That’s my girl. Holding me like you don’t wanna let me go, huh?” 

You didn’t. You never wanted him to leave you, both in bed and in your life. You loved the way he was looking at you. You loved the way he was kissing you and the way he was making love to you. Every other time he had fucked you, this was making love. Even if he probably wouldn’t admit it, you knew the difference and you knew that he did too. 

Mingyu’s forearms rest under your arms, his hands on either of your shoulders as he presses his forehead to yours. Each one of his thrusts is deep, powerful, but slow, as if he wants hours of you in this bed. Nudging his nose against yours, Mingyu smiles, hearing your choked moans as he pushes one of his knees into the mattress, changing the angle of his thrusts so that his cock perfectly rubs against that spot with each movement. “All I want is one more. Just love making you feel good, angel. Love hearing you sing for me, feeling you all over my cock.” 

There was dirty talk and then there was Kim Mingyu’s dirty talk. He could be almost lewd at times, but this was completely different. He had made your skin feel like it was on fire—calling you a whore or a slut, but this—loving everything about you, wanting to hear you sing for him, making you feel good? This was pushing you over the edge, possibly even more than the feeling of his cock brushing against your g-spot over and over again. 

Scratching at Mingyu’s sides, you tighten your legs around his hips, feeling the pressure that had been building in your abdomen give way. Your orgasm rips through you and Mingyu can barely move with how tightly your walls close around him. Gasping into a groan, he tries to get a full breath and keep himself from losing control. 

Trying to pull from you to keep himself from cumming inside of you, Mingyu meets your eyes, sees the pout on your lips and feels your legs hold him tighter. You didn’t want him to pull out. He never came inside of girls. That was another one of his rules, a way to keep himself from catching feelings or any trouble, but with one more deep thrust, Mingyu breaks that rule. 

Groaning your name against your lips, Mingyu is the one who feels like he’s losing his mind with how good it feels to be inside you and to feel your warm, soft walls around him as his cums. He loved seeing his cum on you, but this was special. It’s like you were made for him and made to take everything he gave you. 

Running your fingers through Mingyu’s hair, you close your eyes, letting him rest his cheek against your shoulder. Both of you slowly come down from your euphoric highs. A smile pulls at your lips when you feel your lips press against your throat and Mingyu’s hands slide from under you so he can carefully pull from you and look down at you. 

“Was—is that okay? What happened?” You could see the concern written in Mingyu’s eyes. Lifting your hand, you brush your thumb over his cheek and feel your chest once again tighten as he rests his face in your palm, waiting for you to answer him. “Of course it was. I wanted it. I wouldn’t have let you if I wasn’t on birth control and sure, Mingyu.” 

Taking a deep breath of relief, Mingyu nods before turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. You watch as he slides from the bed and rubs his lips together, glancing around the room before landing on the door to the bathroom. Smiling, you let your eyes follow him as he moves into the ensuite before you hear him turn on the tap in the shower. 

Coming back into the bedroom, Mingyu rubs the side of his neck with his right arm as he offers you his left hand. Though you take his hand, sitting up, ready to go with him, you can’t help the way your eyes migrate from his face to the angry stitches on his right arm. Furrowing your brows as you stand, you mutter his name and carefully touch the hot skin around the wound before meeting Mingyu’s eyes. 

“I’ll clean it and wrap it after the shower, okay? You have to take better care of this. It’ll get infected, babe.” Letting go of Mingyu’s hand, you don’t see the way his brows furrow and how his breath gets caught in his throat when you call him babe. His eyes follow you into the bathroom as you open a bag on the counter, digging through different pill bottles until you find the one you want and say his name once again. 

“I have some antibiotics. They should help… if I can talk to someone here in Seoul, I can get you an actual script.” Looking around for Mingyu in the bathroom, that’s when you realize he’s still standing in the bedroom looking at you, almost dazed. Lifting your hand out for him is what brings him back to you and gets his feet moving. 

Sliding his fingers along yours, Mingyu swallows hard and looks at the pills in your hand when you offer him two, ready to tell him to take them after the shower, only to watch him dry swallow them. Scoffing, you shake your head and sigh, knowing you were falling hard for him, as Mingyu simply smiles at you and guides you towards the shower with him. 

A week later, you found yourself settling into a routine with Mingyu. It was a confusing existence, but you were happy even if Jun wasn’t. He had cut his own vacation short to see you before you were planning to head back to China, and finding you and Mingyu playing house didn’t sit well with him. It took a lot of convincing and reminding him that you weren’t a child for your brother to let you “make your own mistakes” and let you see this through. 

It wasn’t like you could just look at him or Minghao and give them an easy explanation of what was happening. You weren’t even sure. There were no labels for what you and Mingyu had. You wanted to say that you were with him, but were you? 

The sex was mind blowing. Mingyu was the best lover you had ever had in your entire life, but more than that, you would fall asleep in his arms every night and wake up to a kiss from him every morning. That bliss would quickly end if you brought up the question of who the two of you were and where he wanted this to go. Mingyu was a great liar and he was good at changing the subject.

You were just happy that the two of you had been happy. The tension in the penthouse had been low and there had been an air of “ignorance is bliss”—at least there was until the night before your flight. 

“Baby, does pasta aglio e olio sound good for dinner?” Mingyu’s voice carries through the penthouse from the kitchen as he purses his lips at what ingredients he has on hand. Hearing your muffled answer from down the hall, he smiles, shaking his head before heading towards you. “What did you say? You good with—” 

The words get caught in Mingyu’s throat, seeing your suitcase on your bed and your clothes in piles on the bed as you work to pack for the next day. He knew it was coming, but seeing it firsthand was like a stab to his gut. 

Glancing up, a sad but thoughtful look on your face, you look over Mingyu’s expression when he stops mid sentence. You had heard his question, but you were trying to get through a task that felt impossible. Packing meant you were actually leaving and it was breaking your heart, but Mingyu hadn’t asked you to stay. 

Staying would take work, but if he really wanted you to... if he asked you to do it, you had decided in your mind that you’d figure out how to do it. That was why you had asked him so many times what he wanted from the relationship, what he wanted from you, but every time he avoided it—that told you he wanted you to go home. 

“Dinner sounds good, Gyu. Are you okay?” Mingyu could hear the changes in your voice. You didn’t sound like the happy, carefree girl that he had just made love to the night before. The sound of your voice makes his chest feel tight and reminds him that he promised to drive you to the airport. How was he going to do that? How was he going to stand at that gate and watch you walk away? 

Mingyu’s mind quickly puts up defenses, doing what it has always done best—it builds walls. Hurt and pain are on the horizon, so a wall goes up and he’s reminded that this is for the best. He’s bad for you. You have an entire life back in China. You have a clinic and patients who rely on you. He’s selfish and pathetic. He’s dangerous. You stitched him up and watched him shatter. He’s going to get you killed or make you miserable. 

Shaking his head, Mingyu quickly follows it by scoffing and putting on a fake smirk. “Uh yeah, yeah. I’m good. Uh…” Gesturing towards your bags, Mingyu reaches up with his other hand to run his fingers through his hair, something you’ve realized he does when he’s stressed. “When’s your flight again?” He knew what time the flight was. He had looked at the booking hundreds of times but you were looking at him to say something and this was the only thing he knew to say. 

Stepping towards Mingyu, you watch as he takes a step backwards and it makes your heart rise towards your throat. You knew what he was doing. You have already done this. That tension was back and Mingyu was pushing you away again. He was afraid, but so were you. “It’s at 1, but you know that. Mingyu, talk to me.” 

Taking a sharp breath when you take a step towards him, Mingyu feels the door frame behind him as he looks away from you and laughs. The laugh is hollow and fake. You know that it’s supposed to be painful and it is. It hits right at your heart and makes you feel almost sick as you watch him turn from you and head into the hall, his words carrying back to you. “Just needed the time, Y/N. Finish packing so we don’t have to fuckin’ rush in the morning.” 

There it was. Mingyu was purposely trying to be cold and mean again. You had drunk your weight in wine last time; this time you followed him. He didn’t go back to the kitchen; instead, Mingyu turned into his bedroom. Staring at his back, you try to keep the tears at bay, but taking a deep breath, you quickly lose that fight when the first words leave your mouth, anger and sadness coming out in waves. 

“No! You don’t get to do this again, Mingyu! Why are you closing me out? Just…” Mingyu closes his eyes, hearing the sobs between your words. “Please? Why can’t you ask me to stay? Huh?” 

Tears threaten Mingyu’s eyes at that. He wanted to so badly but that wasn’t fair to you. His brain was repeating it all on loop for him. 

You’re selfish and pathetic. You’re dangerous. You’re going to get her killed or make her miserable. You’re selfish and pathetic. You’re dangerous. You’re going to get her killed or make her miserable. You’re selfish and pathetic. You’re dangerous. You’re going to get her killed or make her miserable…

The words in his mind are so loud that even as you move close to him and push at his back, inching him forward, Mingyu stands still. Your choked sobs are what bring him somewhat back to the present, only for his heart to shatter one more time. “Mingyu! Why can’t you ask me if I love you? Tell me that you love me!” 

It takes everything in Mingyu not to turn around, wrap you in his arms and apologize. He isn’t even sure if he wants to apologize for not doing what you’ve asked or for making you feel the way you do. He just doesn’t want you to feel like this anymore, but if you are in this much pain, maybe he can make you hate him. “I don’t love anyone, Y/N.”

Hearing Mingyu speak, you let out one more painful sob and punched at Mingyu’s back, your words weak. “I hate you so much. God, I—why did you make me love you?” Turning to face you and hearing what he wanted, Mingyu closes his fists tightly so he doesn’t reach out to grab on to you. The look on your face shatters him further, but he tries to cover it, even if his eyes give it away. You see the despair written in them, though his mouth stays shut firmly, his jaw is set tightly. 

Smacking your hands at his chest weakly, you try to hold on to your anger as you meet Mingyu’s eyes. Shaking your head, you finally lift your hand and start to bring your palm across his cheek when Mingyu finally moves, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently to finally stop you. “Why can’t you just let me go? Go be happy... Be safe.”

You see the tears in Mingyu’s eyes as he speaks, his voice cracking. Rubbing his thumb in a circle on the inner side of your wrist, Mingyu watches you start to speak, but he shakes his head and sighs. You can hear how tired and desperate he is in his voice as he finally begs you, but not in the way you want. “Just... let me be alone? Let me lie and be miserable on my own. I can’t fuck up your life.” 

Shaking your head as you look up at Mingyu, you see him searching your eyes for understanding. You pull your hand free from his and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him down so your lips can brush over his. Hissing into the light kiss, Mingyu whines your name while trying to keep his hands to himself as he tastes your tears on your lips. 

“I can’t let you do that, Mingyu. I love you.” Trying to make him understand, you kiss at the corner of Mingyu’s lips and once again on the fullness of his bottom lip as you whine into your words, fresh tears on your cheeks. “Please, I love you so much. Stop lying and tell me that you love me, baby. Ask me to stay.” 

Groaning in mental pain and at how tight his chest feels from hearing your words, Mingyu finally breaks. Hands grip at your waist before he lifts you and walks the few steps to the bed, laying you on your back so he can rest over you. The kiss before had been hesitant and guarded, but now Mingyu was almost bruising your lips as if he were willing you to hear how he was feeling through his passion. 

You lift your hand and run your fingers through Mingyu’s hair before walking them along his face to his cheek, feeling his skin damp under your touch. Whispering between kisses, you finally feel a sense of security in being back in Mingyu’s arms as he clings to you as if he’s never going to let you go. “I love you, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu’s sigh against your lips almost sounds like a half sob and a laugh. Resting his forehead against yours, he groans softly and keeps his eyes closed, taking in the moment before finally leaning back to look down at you as your fingers wipe away the tears from his cheek. “I love you so fucking much, baby. I hate myself for how much I love you.” 

Watching you shake your head, Mingyu can see you are going to argue, but he furrows his brows and kisses your lips gently before continuing. “I’m so fucking scared that I’ll lose you. I’m afraid that ‘cause I love you, that’s gonna get you hurt or worse, baby. I—I’d fuckin’ lose it.” 

There had been brief moments of honesty in your short relationship with Mingyu, but this was complete honesty and clarity. It made you think back to what had happened a week ago with the man who had lost his life and you wondered what had been said or done to make Mingyu do what he did… Your mind goes back to Mingyu’s bookshelf and when you had asked him, “Are you a tortured soul, Kim Mingyu?”  

Kim Mingyu was a complicated man, but you were beginning to understand him. 

“Gyu, baby… I’ll be okay. You can’t live your life thinking that disaster is waiting for you around every corner. Just... maybe live it with me? Be happy with me?” 

Taking a deep breath, Mingyu lets the gravity of your words settle on him before he brushes his lips over yours and then presses another kiss on your jaw before nodding. He had only committed to a few things in his life and none of them had ever been this terrifying, but you were worth it. 

Running your fingers through the back of Mingyu’s hair at the nape of his neck, you smile, feeling him nod in agreement. Taking a deep breath, you rest your head back against the bed and let out the breath, finally meeting Mingyu’s eyes once again as his fingers brush along the side of your neck. Smiling, Mingyu’s eyes move along your face before he finally settles back on your eyes.

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[dvrcos]

Andrew Minyard mic’d up if aftg took place today and the Foxes did social media promo

Andrew absolutely refuses to be mic’d up for a long time

When he finally agrees to do it it’s during a game against the Jackals

Everyone is sure it’ll be a bust and they won’t get much of Andrew actually talking

But to everyone’s surprise, Andrew turns his inner monologue outwards and doesn’t shut up

He commentates the game from his perspective

‘And there’s the son of Exy Kevin Day running the ball up- and oh yeah no he’s down for the count’ *huffs a laugh through his nose*

‘The other fuckers have the ball now, if my brother dearest let’s them get it to my goal I’ll kill him’

And when the opposing teams striker trips Aaron up and gets past to Andrews goal he shuts them out of course

‘He’s dead. Find a new backliner coach’

When he gets bored of the game and the backliners are keeping the ball away from his goal he starts to sing

He does a full rendition of “Life is a Highway” because Neil and him watched Cars on the bus ride to the game

And he gets into it

He makes the guitar noises with his mouth and everything

He even sings it in the best low, country voice he can do

He interrupts himself in the middle of the song suddenly, feeling the need to give his full synopsis and review of Cars

‘If I was the stupid fucking car and I fell out of my sentient truck/trailers ass I would keep driving in the same fucking direction. Simple’

‘Josten would do the same thing as Lightning McQueen. He would fuck up an entire town, he’s already done it once actually, when he came here.’

‘Stupid junkie, I hate him’ he adds but there’s a fondness in his voice

‘How do the cars reproduce? Are there humans in this universe that build cars and then make them sentient? Do the cars bang?’

Halfway through his rant one of the strikers gets past Matt and Aaron and he doesn’t even stop talking when he smacks the ball halfway across the court

When the other teams strikers start breaking through the backliners more frequently Andrew doesn’t even seem to care

He just swats every attempted goal away, squawking a quite ‘mine’ like the seagulls from Finding Nemo after hitting each one

Mine *smacks* mine *swats* mine *swish*

He keeps his goal almost completely shut down the entire game, spare a few times when the other team can get the ball past him because he’s not paying attention

‘I wonder what coach is buying us for dinner after this. I hope it's good since we’re’ *his goal lights up red* ‘Oops, anyhow it better be good, I’m working my ass off out here,’

‘What if we all started moving in slow motion. Josten and Day would look stupid running up the court like that,’ *a ball flies past his helmet* ‘If we were in slowmo I would’ve stopped that’

He plays the entire game (Renee's out with an injury) and he shuffles through doing all this the entire game

He sings verses of whatever song pops into his head

He reviews the movies he’s watched recently

He commentates the game in his dry manner, listing off every stat he knows about the other team and then explains why they still suck

He makes fun of his Foxes and the other team

He talks about his random hypotheticals

All while keeping the goal almost perfectly defended against the other teams strikers

When the game ends and the Foxes are loaded back up on the bus they listen back to the recording of Andrews mic

And they’re shocked that he doesn’t stop talking once the entire game

They listen to his entire recording on the ride back to campus

All of the Foxes are laughing the entire time

Even Neil is smiling (even though he’s used to this version of Andrew that is weird and likes to ramble)

When they post his mic’d up highlights to their social media it goes viral

It’s their most viewed and liked mic’d up video

Their fans are begging for more of Andrew mic’d up but he refuses to do it again

He got the enjoyment out of doing it once and doesn’t feel a need to do it again

The foxes do start to pay a little more attention to what Andrew’s saying while in goal (and all the time)

Aaron Mic’d up

[steddie-island]

Heartache to heartache

Second prompt fill for week 1 of @steddiesmuttyseptember - Makeup sex WC: 1,771 | Rating: E | Tags: Makeup sex, financial insecurity anxiety AO3 Divider credit

It was Eddie's fault that he was laying in bed alone, and he was kicking himself for it.

Mostly his fault. Maybe.

He'd overreacted. Maybe.

Fuck. Steve still didn't realize Eddie didn't just have money to throw around. He'd scrimped and saved (and on a couple of occassions stole) for the things he had. The Munsons didn't just get shit handed to them unless it was bad. Sometimes they'd done shit to deserve it, sure, but sometimes they were just in the wrong goddamn place at the wrong goddamn time and life decided to make them pay.

Eddie had been ready to pay this time. It'd taken him months to save up the money to fix his van. Months of borrowing Wayne's truck, hitching rides from the band, from Steve when he was available. Months of cutting corners, buying the cheaper deodorant (his shampoo and conditioner couldn't really get any cheaper) and forgoing snacks he wanted, choosing instead to shove the pennies and the small bills into the coffee container hidden in the back of his underwear drawer.

When the day came for him to finally pay, when he could get his van (and his independence) back, he pulled up only to be told it'd been taken care of.

Just like that.

Eddie could've credited it to the government, to Hopper, to the generosity of the guys who ran the garage. One look at Steve and he had his answer.

"I wanted to surprise you," Steve said. His face had flushed, he'd run a hand nervously over the back of his neck, had turned on that goddamn smile that he knew melted Eddie's heart.

Not this time.

Eddie had been furious. Beyond, even.

He'd yanked the keys out of the mechanic's hand and stormed to his van, letting his quiet fury engulf him. How dare Steve take this away from him. How dare Steve make his months of scrimping be for nothing. How dare he throw that Harrington money around to try to solve Eddie's problems.

Eddie didn't explode until they were in the trailer together.

"Hey—"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Eddie had asked. His hands shook with his anger, his frustration, with the desire to grab this stupid beautiful boy by the shoulders. "What the fuck, Steve?"

"I was helping," Steve said, clearly confused. "I just wanted to help—"

"No, you were just using Daddy's money to make problems go away again."

Steve had winced at that, but then he'd straightened his spine. "Yeah, I used my dad's money. So what? Why does it matter how it got paid for?"

Eddie had tipped his head back, laughed without any humor in his voice. "Right, what does it matter when pretty rich boys can just wave their fucking magic wand and throw their name around and make everyone do whatever the fuck they want."

"Last I checked I didn't have to do that with you. You just do it." Steve's eyes were steely, his jaw set.

"Fuck you, Harrington."

In his bedroom Eddie winced as the rest of the argument played out in his mind. He'd been fucking stupid and now he was sulking.

And Steve wasn't around for him to try to fix things.

"Motherfucker." The heels of his hands pressed into his eyes firmly, as if that would turn off the replying looping again and again. Every cruel thing he'd said that had brought the bitchiness out in Steve, too.

Eddie loved that bitchiness when it wasn't aimed at him. Hell, he'd liked the bitchiness even when Steve had been King Steve, when he was turning it on Tommy or Carol or Billy.

But now he couldn't even watch from the sidelines. He'd fucked it all up, had overreacted, and Steve was gone.

"Fuck this."

Eddie sat up and stuffed both feet into his combat boots. He had his jacket half on and a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth when he opened the front door—

"Oh—"

Steve stood there on the front porch, hand raised like he was poised to knock. His hair was a mess, the collar of his polo was wrinkled. It wouldn't mean much to anyone else but Eddie knew better.

"Steve." Eddie nearly dropped his cigarette. He grabbed it between his fingers and stubbed it out in the ashtray by the door. "Uh— hey."

"Can I come in?" Steve asked.

Fuck. How long since he'd had to ask to come in? How long since he'd had to knock, and not just use the key Eddie had given him when they'd been together three months?

Eddie stepped back, opening the door wider so Steve could slip by him.

"Sorry if this is a bad time. I can come back—"

"I was coming to see you—"

They stopped at the same time. Eddie cleared his throat, pushed a hand through his frizzy curls.

"I'm sorry." Steve wasn't looking at him, was looking at a spot over Eddie's shoulder instead. "That's all I wanted to say. I should've checked with you and I didn't."

Eddie shook his head, and then he was pulling Steve into his arms. "Hey— I'm sorry. You were helping me out, and I just fucking lost it. I'm sorry, Steve."

"No, it's my fault—"

"It's my fault," Eddie said. "Fuck, you were doing something nice and I threw it back in your face."

"I was just thinking you already had to replace so much, I could do that for you," Steve continued. "It wasn't fucking fair, none of what happened was your fault. You didn't deserve any of that shit—"

"Stevie." Eddie caught Steve's face in his hands. "Baby, it wasn't your fault, either. It wasn't your problem to solve—"

"I know!" Steve shook his head. "I know. I'm sorry, I overstepped and I fucked up so bad, you have every right to be upset."

"Not the way I was." Eddie tipped Steve's face up towards him. "I had no right to yell at you the way I did."

"You did—"

"No. I didn't." Eddie rested his hands on either side of Steve's neck and rested their foreheads together. "I'm sorry."

The tension leeched out of Steve's body, and he practically swayed towards Eddie. Eddie was happy to catch him, to help hold him up. Was happy to return the kiss Steve was pressing against his lips.

"I'm sorry," Steve breathed. Eddie just shook his head, went in for another kiss. His hands dropped from Steve's neck to trail down his body, to his thighs.

Physical therapy had at least given him this. Eddie lifted Steve into his arms and started for his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him, dropped Steve carefully to the bed before kneeling between his thighs.

Steve's eyes were dark and heavy. He tugged his own shirt off then sat up to help with Eddie's shirt, too.

"Fuck…" Eddie tangled a hand into Steve's hair as the other man nipped and bit carefully at his stomach. "Fucking love you."

Steve let out a soft sound, and then Eddie was on him, over him. There were more whispered apologies that were cut off as teeth dug into the skin of a throat, as hands pushed desperately at fabric until they were naked from the waist down, too.

Eddie had lost count of how many times they'd done this, but each time felt like the first. Steve always opened up so beautifully for him. Every moan and whine, the way those big hands gripped at Eddie's shoulders, then his hair when that was all he could reach because Eddie was using his tongue, too.

"Fuck, please—"

Eddie loved the way Steve begged, loved the way he arched towards the touches and used a heel to guide Eddie just where he wanted him.

When Eddie was sure he was open enough he moved over Steve again. "I love you," he whispered.

Steve's response was a moan, to dig his hands into Eddie's back as he was filled. "Eddie, fuck—"

Normally Eddie would make a joke, but it didn't feel like the moment to do that. Instead he threaded a hand with Steve's and brought it up over their heads before he started moving harder. Not fast, but hard, deep, in a rhythm that made Steve's body clench around him and brought out more of those beautiful sounds.

Eddie wanted to commit those sounds to memory. He wanted to record them for the nights they had to be apart, so he could play them on a loop and try to pretend Steve was right there with him.

"More," Steve urged. His voice was breathy, had the edge that Eddie had learned to know meant he was close.

"Love you," Eddie repeated. He drove home again and again. Steve's nails caught against his ass in encouragement. "Mine— mine—"

"Yours, Eddie, fuck don't stop—" Steve met each of Eddie's movements with desperate little rolls of his hips.

When he came it was with a cry, with those strong legs around Eddie's hips, holding him in place and keeping him inside. Eddie followed right after him, spilling deep into the clutch of Steve's body.

Eddie kissed at Steve's jaw as the sweat cooled on their skin. He still had their hands threaded together, was still buried in Steve's body— still had Steve's legs around him, locking him there for the time being.

"I'm sorry," Eddie said again.

"I love you." Steve kissed his hair, then his forehead. "I was afraid I messed up too bad, that I'd lost you for real."

"Never." Eddie kissed Steve's chest. "You'll never lose me, sunshine. No matter what happens."

There was a soft hitch in Steve's breathing. "That's not how it usually works for me."

"Maybe not. But it's how it works for us." Eddie rose up to kiss Steve. There was no heat behind it this time. He poured all of his love and affection and as much reassurance as he could into it, until he could feel Steve practically shaking with it.

"That okay?" Eddie murmured.

Steve sniffed softly. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm more than okay with that."

Eddie hid his face in Steve's neck again and breathed in the scent of salt and cologne. They would have to talk about it more later, talk about boundaries and the way to try to prevent something else like this happening. But for now Eddie was happy to just hold and be held by Steve. "Good. 'Cause I wasn't really asking."

"Guess I deserve that," Steve joked. His fingers came up to stroke through Eddie's hair gently.

Eddie found that he couldn't agree more.

[delopsia]

the kind that money can't buy (calico creek) | rhett abbott x reader

Word Count: 12,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, friends to lovers, size kink, general awkwardness due to a love confession gone wrong. Cunnilingus, creampies, multiple orgasms, hand jobs, grinding, usage of the 'snowed-in' trope, slightly implied inexperienced reader. Reader generally being overwhelmed at times. Notes are subject to be updated because I feel like I'm forgetting something... My almost-late entry for @lewmagoo's holiday celebration!

Brief Summary: Sometimes, all love needs is a botched love confession, broken bridges, a tiny cabin out on Calico Creek, and an inconceivable amount of snow. Inspired by the Stephen Wilson Jr. song, Calico Creek.

"And what's the plan if we die on this mission?" 

"There ain't one," Rhett chuckles, his eyes flickering between the bridge and the rearview mirror. Whatever he sees isn't enough, has to twist in his seat to look out the back window. "Might as well write your will and send it via carrier pigeon." 

He's gonna die with the left side of his neck, and the lower portions of his jaw smeared in cheap paint, and he doesn't even know it. Hell, there might be some in his hair now that you look at it.

You don't know how he can manage to do this. You can hardly look away from the window for more than a second, staring down at the edge of the bridge. Nothing but rushing waters and wood laid decades before you were born, no guardrail to prevent you from plummeting a hundred-something feet to your rocky, hypothermic demise. 

The turn onto this old-fashioned safety hazard is almost too tight for the trailer, one of the tires briefly hanging midair as it crawls onto the bridge. Something creaks below, low and grumpy, an ancient spirit disturbed from its eternal slumber. 

"I still think it's cracking beneath us." That sounds like wood cracking. Does he not hear it? Why is he not putting it in reverse yet? 

"Well, we don't seem to be fallin' yet." The idiot seems to have left his intelligence back at the rodeo. 

You must have forgotten yours, too, because you're the one who stupidly agreed to this whole venture, knowing full well you would have to cross this godforsaken bridge. This thing has been ready to collapse since the day you were born and has threatened to take you down the countless times you've ventured over it. But, like clockwork, the truck crawls out the other side, emerging onto safe, solid ground. 

"Oh, I forgot all about this," you don't mean to say it out loud, but it slips past your defenses, a breath that you can only hold back for so long. 

Snow-covered trees decorate the sides of the beaten gravel road, arching overhead, their baren branches seeming to kiss the silver sky itself. Icicles hang from some of them, twinkling in the light. Stunning in its own right, but nowhere near as gorgeous as Calico Creek herself, still just as wild and alive as she has always been. 

It's a wonder the Tillerson's haven't tried stealing this out from under the Abbotts, too. There's no way they haven't heard the stories about this place, and there's no way they have never wondered about where the water beneath the bridge on Warm Creek Road leads.

"The cabin is still standing?" It looks the same, too. Time itself must stop every time someone leaves this place.

"For some reason," Rhett's nails tap against the steering wheel. "Mom comes out here to pull weeds every other month in the summer."

"Still?"

"Old habits die hard."

And that...fuck, what do you say? Nothing? That was an invitation for a follow-up.

...no, maybe it wasn't. Why are you making it weird? Come on, think.What is it that you usually say when Cecelia comes up in conversation? Oh! You should ask about...no, he already said that she's spent all day cooking a roast. 

The tires slip beneath the truck. Rhett reaches for the gear shifter. His paint-mottled hand spins across the wheel, drawing the vehicle off the ice as quickly as it crawled onto it. Focused entirely on the road and nothing else.

Rodeo lights flicker through your mind. Old dirt flies through the air again, a neverending plume of dust that still makes your nose burn. Your stomach is twisting around, working itself into a knot it'll never get out of.

"Hello?" A gloved hand waves in front of your face. "Y' in there?"

"Huh?" 

The truck has long since stopped. Crudely parked in front of the cabin with no regard for how it may look to anyone else. It's been stopped for a while, too; you can already feel the cooler air creeping through the vents. How a cowboy like him can put up with a truck that only blows heat when it's moving is beyond you. You would have sold this thing years ago. 

"I was askin' if you're ready," Rhett's brow furrows, and for a moment, you're worried that he can see straight through you. "Are you sure you slept last night?" 

"Yeah." Lie. 

The corner of his mouth wobbles up and down, lips parting with the beginnings of a sentence. Then, flattening into a line. Your eyes meet. You don't know what to say. Neither does he. Your face feels hot all of a sudden. 

It's too damn quiet in this truck.

Your saving grace comes in the form of a squealing door hinge. Shrill. Screaming at the top of its lungs as Rhett shoves it open. Yeah. Okay. You'll get out, too, then.

If life were a comic, then the rush of frozen air would have steam rising from your heated cheeks. Fortunately, no such thing happens; it's just your burning skin and the vicious bite of single-digit temperatures eating away at what little moisture you have left, not satisfied until your skin has been left raw and chapped.

Snow crunches beneath your boots, soft at first but growing firm as it compacts under your weight. Every step feels just as unsteady as the last, and with each one, you're nearly certain that this time, you will find uneven ground and go tumbling head-first into this pristine, wintery hell that has encased the entire state of Wyoming. And yet, you continue to find solid footing.

"Remind me again why we're looking for a...?" Your words die in your throat, lost to the howling wind. Did he ever mention what you were looking for out here?

A moment passes. Rhett turns his head to you. Gives you a few more seconds to conjure up the words you're looking for. "Horse-drawn grain drill?" Finishing your thought. "Mom saw a post on Facebook and thinks she can turn it into decor."

You don't know what a horse-drawn grain drill is, but you've got a feeling that it's the old jumble of rusted metal that has been decaying against a cedar tree since you were in kindergarten. Somewhere behind the cabin, beyond the tree line. "Is this another one of those projects that she starts and you have to finish?"

"What makes ya guess that?" The corner of his eye crinkles with his smile; now that you've got something to compare it to, the snow doesn't seem so bright anymore.

"Well, last I checked, she was the one repainting the walls downstairs," the ground shifts beneath your foot. Sends you stumbling. "But half of your jaw is a nice shade of Beacon Gray."

"Shit." His hands rise, blindly pawing at his face with the backs of his gloved hands, digging at it the best that he can manage. "Why didn't ya tell me I had this shit all over my face?" Flecks of gray rain down like snowflakes, scattering across the front of his jacket. 

He pauses, those expectant blue eyes landing on your shivering frame. Hopeful, even. Poor thing hasn't the slightest clue that his neck is stained with the imprint of his own hand right now. 

You shake your head. "I think you're gonna have to shave to get it all off." 

His whine echoes through the empty trees. "But I just got it to the right length again!"

As if it would get to last past the weekend, you can already hear Cecelia fussing at him to shave and tidy himself up for Christmas Service. She'll probably try squeezing him into that old suit she had tailored for him after he graduated high school, too. So tiny and narrow that the fabric visibly struggles to contain those broad shoulders...

You've gotta think of something else before you start drooling and a damn icicle forms. 

"What, you don't think it adds character?" Rhett leans over, knocking his arm against yours. If he hears your heart lurch in your chest, he doesn't comment on it. 

Looking at him is the worst thing you could possibly do. He's just so close, and he's waited until this very moment to tilt his head down and ease that old cowboy hat on, the felt one with the chipped brim. Rugged, just like his four-day-old scruff and the unruly hair that curls behind his ear and hasn't been cut since spring began. 

"It adds...something," you don't know what your conclusion is supposed to mean. Fortunately, he doesn't ask any further; just rolls his eyes and keeps walking. 

Against all odds, that old bench Royal built for you is still sitting and facing the creek. The piles of snow almost entirely obscure its frame, but it's the bench nonetheless. Two wooden pallets crudely cut and nailed together, Abbott engineering at its finest. 

"Do you remember the tire swings?" You vaguely remember them, hung from trees that once occupied the space the bench now occupies. But they weren't ordinary tire swings. No, they were fashioned to look like horses, with old recycled bridles and name tags. Isabela and Flash. 

Rhett shakes his head, chuckling at a memory. "I remember jumpin' off of 'em a lot."

"And breaking your arm because you overshot and landed in the creek?" You can still hear Cecelia screaming at the top of her lungs. "No wonder why you turned out to be a bull rider. You're still chasing the high of nearly breaking your neck in Calico Creek." 

All he can do is laugh; there's no defending himself from this one. 

Fortunately for him, the conversation dies at the sight of that old hunk of metal. It still lies in the same spot it's always been, somewhat sunken into the soil and leaving behind an indent in the tree it rests against. The thing has all the right in the world to stubbornly cling to its resting place, but Rhett doesn't even seem to struggle when he pulls on it.

It's reasonably light, all things considered. 

...or maybe it just feels light because Rhett is doing most of the pulling. 

But the metal is frozen in a thin sheet of ice, and by the time you get it within distance of the trailer, it's melted and seeped into your gloves. Frozen water gnawing at your already cold fingers, eating through flesh and straight down into the bone. Solidifying in your joints for extra measure.

You've got no choice but to drag it along for no reason other than you can't let go. Trudging through the snow, audibly crunching with every step, every inch of your exposed skin burning in a frozen fire. And it must freeze your memory, too, because the next thing you remember is the rear trailer gate falling open, clattering against the ground. It creates a ramp of sorts. 

"I can pull it up from here," Rhett, ever the gentleman.

You'd love to let him take it, but...well, you're trying, but your fingers are hardly budging. Frozen in place, another piece of the machine. You don't remember when they went numb, but you can hardly feel them anymore; they may have even detached from your body entirely. But, slowly, they pry themselves open, stiff muscles fighting against your effort to pull your hand back to your chest.

Rhett tilts his head. "'s your hand frozen?" 

"My glove got soaked," pausing to blow air onto it. The heat of your breath is nice...until it fades and leaves you even more aware of the difference in temperature. "It's fine, just a little cold."

"'Cold' my ass," muttering under his breath. He reaches out, his big hand practically engulfing yours as he pulls it toward him, plucking the soaked glove off before you've even realized what he's doing. "I ain't havin' ya get frostbit."

His other hand dives into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief that's been wrapped around something. You can feel the heat radiating off of it before he's even placed it in your frozen palm. A hand warmer.

The wind nips at your frosty skin, but the handkerchief is big enough that you can wrap the fabric around your hand entirely. A thin shield to block off at least some of the cold. 

Truly, you don't think Rhett even needed you to come along in the first place because he gets the old piece of equipment onto the trailer without the slightest hint of a struggle. It's so easy that you almost catch yourself looking back to see if there's a bigger piece to haul up. Why did he ask you to help with something so simple?

And why did you agree to it?

It's something you're still wondering when you heave yourself back up into the truck, squeezing into the corner of the old cloth seat like it'll somehow save you from the burst of frigid air that races out of the vents. God, why were you wishing for snow last week? This is hell.

"How do you put up with this every winter?" You're fighting to keep your teeth from chattering, not even going to make an attempt at straightening yourself out to put the seat belt on. Curling into a ball sounds like a much better option than that; safety be damned. 

"Layers 'n a dash of self-hatred." The truck rumbles as Rhett's foot presses on the gas pedal, the beaten tires frantically searching for traction on the slick ground. They find it. Lurching forward. "I shoulda become an accountant or somethin'."

"You as an accountant?" Snickering. 

Somewhere, in the effort to almost entirely spin the truck around, Rhett finds the chance to lean over and knock his elbow against yours. "Hey, y' don't see none of them office folk freezin' for a livin', now do ya?" 

"I'd love to see you crammed in a little cubicle," you laugh, and all he can do is roll his eyes, shaking his head all the while. 

A beam of light bounces off the creek waters. You know it's merely the change in angle that caused it, but the little voice in your head quietly wonders if old Calico Creek is laughing with you. She keeps doing it, too. Light-reflecting in little sparks, bouncing off chunks of broken ice and the rushing silver water itself, following you all the way up to the bridge.

You don't remember the bridge groaning like this last time. Maybe more towards the middle, but certainly not this early. Though, even as you untwist from your huddle and peer out the window, you can't see anything crumbling. 

"Rhett?" 

"I hear it."

Still, he eases the truck forward, but you can hear the whir of the window as he rolls it down. You would do the same and stick your head out, too, if you weren't just now regaining sensation in your nose. 

It sounds like popcorn beneath you. Soft little popping noises that you can feel when you press your feet against the floorboard. 

Rhett jumps for the shifter. 

Wood snaps.

The truck dips forward.

Something roars. You're going backward. The earth spins. White and silver and brown blurs into one big mess. Metal and tires scream. Your head bounces against the back of the seat.

And everything is still.

You're facing the river. The cabin is on your right, and the bridge is...the bridge is...

"Did it...?"

"Yeah..." Rhett whispers, his eyes as equally glued to the sight as yours are. "it did." 

The bridge is gone. 

"I have good news and bad news." Rhett's voice bounces off every wall in the cabin, almost makes it hard for you to figure out which of the two rooms he's walking out of. As if you didn't watch him disappear into one the moment that his phone started ringing.

"What's the good news?" You ask, squeezing the hand warmer just a little tighter. But there's no longer any heat radiating from it, reduced to nothing but a dull, rapidly fading warmth. 

"The bad news is," it seems he's completely ignoring what you just said. "The roads are shit 'n Perry doesn't think he can plow out the upper path 'till at least tomorrow afternoon." 

And then he's gone. Vanishing back into the room he just moseyed out of. 

"The good news?" You know he can hear you, but you don't get a reply. Nothing but a load of underwhelming silence. "Rhett?" 

Something thunks against the floor. Heavy. Solid. 

"Remember that time we snuck out and went over to Idaho for that rodeo mom didn't want me goin' to?" The echo is so bad that it takes a moment to catch up to what he's just said.

A memory stirs to mind. "I remember you getting drunk and busting your lip falling out of the truck."

Rhett's head pokes around the corner, his pale nose wrinkled with what you can only identify as disgust. Maybe a hint of embarrassment. Not his favorite memory, you suppose. 

"I don't know if y' remember it, but Dad was so furious that he made me come out here 'n chop every downed tree he could find for weeks." He disappears for another moment. Then, steps back into the room, lifting a chunk of split wood into the air. "Come to find out, all of it's still here." 

"Suddenly, I'm considering forgiving you for the grilling your mom gave us after that." You can't resist your smile. For once, your teenage antics pay off, even if it was all his idea. 

"It's inappropriate for you two to be alone together like that!" Mocking in the shrillest voice he can manage as he steps over to the fireplace, bending down to load the wood inside. "Don't know why she always thought that we..." His Adam's apple bobs. Glancing at you.

You look away. 

...yeah. 

Your lower belly twists, inexplicably filling with butterflies who have blades for wings. Or maybe they're moths, eating through you like old laundry. Whatever they are, they worsen when you peek at him through the corner of your eye, the momentary flicker of a memory nearly making you nauseous.

"Do you need help?" You don't know why you're asking when you're already reaching out, ready to take the next chunk of wood from him. It'll be easier for you to put it in; you're already down here on the floor.

"No, it's—it's fine," he freezes mid-crouch. Your fingers brush against the back of his hand. "I've got it. You should..." 

Life...stops.

For a split second, you fear that your fingertips have melted and become one with him, stuck together for the rest of eternity. But the blaze of the fire burns before you can reach melting point, jerking away as if burned. Rhett looks away. You do, too. 

You're right back at the rodeo again. 

Dusty Sunday night air spirals around you. A dry earthy scent burns at your nose, disguising the already vague tinge of sweat and what you can only describe as animal that clings to him. Dirt clings to his glistening jaw, smeared all the way down his neck and the left side of his jeans. 

If you didn't know any better, you would think they replaced Rhett with that of a wild-eyed mustang, icy blues damn near about to swallow you whole. It hardly matches his stuttered whispers, so damn shy in comparison to what lurks at the surface. 

"I...I uhm..." his boot kicks at the ground, stirring up another plume of dirt. "I know ain't good at this sort of thing, but I—" His tongue hitches, lips still moving, but not a damn thing comes out. 

Broad shoulders shiver. Caving in on themselves. And he drops his head, the brim of his hat concealing everything but his mouth from view. Hiding in plain sight. This doesn't nearly match the excitement that the shiny new championship buckle in his hand should warrant, but now it's been reduced to nothing but a toy for him to fidget with. Twisting it round and round in his wavering palm. 

"Rhett...?" Hooking your finger under the very edge of his hat, lifting it until you catch sight of red cheeks and impossibly wide baby blues. A deer caught in the headlights. 

"I love you."

It's there and gone with the breeze. So swift that if not for the sight of his lips shaping around those three little words, you would think you made it up entirely. 

But it was there, still clear as day in your memory; if you try hard enough, you can almost convince yourself that you can step through time. Re-enter your starstruck body and kiss him before the sheriff can cut in and shoo you away to ask questions about another spat between his family and the Tillersons.

But time travel doesn't exist, and that confession still hangs in the air, its rusty hinges squealing every time you think you've finally forgotten about it. What do you even say now? 'Hey, I'm sorry that in the span of a few weeks, I couldn't conjure up a better way to revive the topic, but I love you too. Hope you haven't taken my silence as rejection and moved on already!' What if he didn't even mean it as a love confession? 

Rhett hasn't said anything about it.

Neither have you.

The crackle of the fire is the only thing present to fill the silence. Occasionally broken apart by the pops of Rhett's joints every time he goes to fetch another piece of wood, ancient floorboards groaning in tandem with the thump of his boots. Even his jingling spurs are a welcome sound, shrill as they might be.

Nightfall is either your greatest blessing or the biggest curse known to mankind. The darkest corners of the cabin are lost to the shadows in a matter of hours. God knows if anything is lurking in there, ready to pounce at any given moment, but with it, Rhett's solemn face disappears, too. Reduced to glistening eyes and flashes of skin in the firelight. 

"Do you remember when we used to beg your mom to let us spend the night up here?" The sound of your voice is borderline shocking. A smidge too loud for the heavy silence that covers the room like a thick winter blanket. 

Rhett's hum dissolves into a chuckle. "Guess we really should have listened when she told us to watch what we wish for." 

He peeks at you through the corner of his eye, a strand of brown hair falling out from behind his ear and into his face. You catch his gaze, locking for a lingering moment. His mouth rises into a weary smile.

"We should have wished for endless snacks and a million-dollar lottery ticket while we were at it," you can only imagine what other things you two have begged poor Cecelia for. "And maybe a spare blanket."

Rhett blinks. Staring into the fire. His eyes widen, lighting up with a realization. "I got some in the truck."

"Lottery tickets?"

"Blankets," he's trying his best to sound annoyed, but his own grin betrays him. 

Something in his knee pops as he stands up, audibly protesting, but he's already on his feet. There go those spurs again, chiming away with every step, glinting in the light, and...

"What is that?" You ask, with a tilt of your head. It doesn't help you see any better, but the effort is there. 

Rhett freezes. "Huh?"

"Come here," beckoning him closer. "You've got something on the back of your boot."

"Those are called spurs, sweetheart," but Rhett comes back to you anyway.

He...meant that as a joke. Yeah. That's what it was. 

...right?

"No, it's..." There's something silver just above the spur on his left heel, so sharp that it pierces straight through the leather. Something long and gray hangs from it. Feels like plastic. It looks like...a rubber fish?

"'s that a damn Rapala?" Rhett's voice rises in pitch. Confused. 

"I didn't know fishing lures could catch cowboys," giggling, you pinch the hook, tugging it from the hole it's created in his shoe. The thing is ancient. Its once brilliant silver scales now a muted yellow, the singular remaining hook mangled and warped into an unrecognizable mess. 

He reaches down, opening that big hand of his. The little lure practically shrinks when you place it in his palm, suddenly nothing but a minuscule hunk of plastic and metal. "I knew they were in the creek but I didn't expect them to be all the way up here, too." 

You think that you can still hear Cecelia calling out, warning you two to watch where you step and to be careful in the shallow creek waters. It's a wonder how neither of you ever got a hook in your foot. You've lost track of how many summer Sunday afternoons you've spent in Calico Creek. You don't think you even liked visiting their church; you only ever tagged along because of what came after the service ended. 

Thump_

"What was that?" You're pretty sure it came from outside, but you're not about to dismiss the potential of someone lurking in the shadows of the room. 

"Dunno," but he's about to find out, slinking toward the door like a stray cat. You don't know how he does it, but his boots are suddenly quiet. The spurs on his heels don't even sing. All holding their breath as he opens the door. 

It's snowing so hard that you can see the shape of the wind when it bursts through the gap, cloaked like a ghost in a white sheet. Swirling around the room, all too eager to eat away at the warmth of the fire. Circling closer and closer with all the ferocity of a pack of hungry wolves. A shiver races up your spine.

"Hang on."

The door slams shut, and—

"Rhett?" You squeak. Where did he...did he go outside? He must have. You only looked away for a moment, and you would have heard it if he had rushed into the backroom. 

In his place lingers, what you can only describe as a sentient winter wind, rushing through the thick fabric of your clothes as you stand and make your way to the door. It doesn't matter how long you've been huddled by the fire. By the time your hand finds the ice-cold door knob, you're shivering again. 

Snow bursts through the gap once more, splattering across your face. Clinging to your eyelashes, wiggling down through the collar of your jacket. 

"Rhett?" But the midnight air swallows your voice like a sponge. It doesn't even echo. You can't see a thing. Not the truck, not Calico Creek, not a damn thing. "Rhett!"

No such reply. It's as if he was never even here in the first place, but you can vaguely see his footprints in the snow. They don't go far. 

Or rather, you can't see them go very far out. You could be floating through space right now, and you would be none the wiser about it. It's all just...black. Even as you step through the door, your unsteady frame slammed by a bigger, angrier gust of wind.

"Rhett!" Your voice should be able to get louder than this, but no such thing happens. Maxed out. "Rhett!"

You still don't see him. What the hell did he go looking for? Shit, what if it was someone lurking outside that grabbed him? And now you've just made it known to the whole forest that you're out here by yourself! 

A shape moves in the distance. 

You jump back, snow-caked boots sliding across the floor. Your grip on the door handle is the only reason you don't fall.

It's getting closer. You think you can see two legs. Walking closer and closer, and—

"Rhett!" Your voice breaks this time.

But it's him. Shoulders coated in a dusting of snow. Hair blowing into his windburnt face. Some kind of thick fabric bundled up into his arms. Blankets, you think. The wind blows harder, and he disappears into the sea of white once again, the waves trying to suck him back into the abyss.

Snow tumbles into the front door as he steps inside. He's carried half of tonight's snowfall into the damn cabin. But you can't think about that right now.

"Blankets?" You don't know if your voice is shaking from the cold or if you're just mad. "You run out into a blizzard and scare me half to death for fucking blankets?" 

Rhett Abbott has had his soul replaced with that of a newborn deer because he looks like one caught in the headlights. Wide blue eyes staring back at you, can't possibly fathom what has got you so mad. As if he's not the one who just inexplicably ran off into the night with no regard for his own safety. 

Those snow-dusted eyelashes flutter. "You said you wanted one." Innocent as can be. 

And you...you did ask for those, but. "You could have said something before you just up and walked out." 

"Were you worried about me?" His head tilts to the side. 

"Maybe I was," muttering, you turn back to the fire. There's a chair sitting in the back corner. Wooden. Didn't look all that inviting until just now, swallowed up by one of the many shadows cast by the fire. The chilly air has collected over here, clustering into its own little storm, but you can't feel it. Not with how hot your face has gotten all of a sudden. 

The chair creaks beneath your weight. It breaking is the last thing you need right now, but fortunately, it seems to hold. You lean forward, face falling into your hands. Of course. Of course, he went to get the blankets that you asked for. And here you are yelling at him like a damsel in distress as if he wasn't born and raised in conditions worse than this. 

Something drapes across your shoulders. Fuzzy. Smells like the bonfire the Abbott's had a few weeks back, burning away the brush collected from the most recent storm. Another one wedges itself into your lap, Rhett stubbornly pushing it onto you as if you're the one covered in snow and not him. 

"What are you doing?" Peeking through the gaps in your fingers.

"Buildin' you a cocoon and hangin' ya from the ceilin'," he hums, and if you didn't know him any better, you might have thought he was dead serious. "Wanna see if you'll come out with wings like one of them butterflies."

You're putting on your best frown. 

Or at least, you think you are. You can't really feel your face. "This implies that I look like a caterpillar." 

"Hey, caterpillars are cute," says Rhett Abbott, the man who yelped when he saw a bright green caterpillar inching up his pant leg last summer."Y' remember that book we used to have where the little dude kept eatin' everything?"

"The one you took a bite out of?" Yeah, you remember that. 

"The caterpillar did that." Still just as defensive as he was when Cecelia started asking questions about what happened to the book. "Not me."

"Uhuh." Sure.

The last of the snowflakes scatter from his eyelashes, cascading down onto his bright red cheeks and melting into minuscule little droplets of water that seem to dance in the firelight. A tiny galaxy that is wiped out by a singular stroke of your thumb. 

...you're touching his face.

You don't recall when your hand left your side, but it's resting against his jaw, your thumb still damp with the evidence of your crime. He's noticed it. There's no way he hasn't noticed it, but he's not telling you to stop. And...well...you're already here. 

Properly curling your hand around his cheek is the easiest thing you've done in a lifetime, his soft scruff tickling your palm. Rhett still doesn't say anything. Hell, it's so quiet that you can hear the minuscule sound of him breathing through his nose. His lashes flutter again. Thinking about something.

He tilts his head, leaning into your touch. 

"You're frozen." You noticed that a long time ago, but if you don't break the silence, you're gonna combust.

"Yeah, that kinda..." his mouth hangs open, tongue visibly faltering for a good moment or three, "happens when...you snow."

Your giggle is so loud that it echoes, but you hardly notice it. "When you snow, huh?" 

He's running from you. 

You can't believe it. He's squirming up to his feet and turning around, his hands rising to cover his face in a fashion identical to what you did mere minutes ago. Mutters something, but it's so muffled that you can't understand a word he's said. You don't necessarily care to figure it out, either. A little bit distracted by the sound of puzzle pieces clicking into place. 

You think you get it now. 

The floorboard squeals as you stand, the sharp sound eating away every bit of the certainty that you just built up, but your momentum still carries you forward. Feet falling one after the other as if caught in a trance. 

Rhett turns to look at you, then back to the door. 

He tries to, at least. 

It happens on reflex. You grabbing ahold of his jacket collar, pulling so hard that you both stumble. He gasps. So do you. Chest to chest in this tiny old cabin, nothing but the flickering fire to guide your eyes as you drink in his face. The same old, big blue eyes you've always known. Pouty lips wobbling, torn between a lopsided smile and trying to come up with something to say. 

If this were a dream, it would be perfect. Seamlessly falling into place like trained actors.

But this is real, and you're both moving at the same time, and your noses clash at the same time your mouths do. You stumble. His arm cinches around you. Pulls you closer. Teeth clatter. It's everything that a Hallmark first-kiss scene isn't, and it's incredible. All those movies, and they still couldn't quite capture the dream of kissing your best friend in—

Best friend.

"Shit, I..." Jerking away. Eyes wide. Breath caught in your throat. "I shouldn't have..." Shouldn't have what? Kissed him without asking? 

Oh, but he's grinning at you like a damn fool. Wobbly smile and sparkling gaze, flickering back and forth between your lips and eyes. You don't feel the hand resting on the small of your back until it's pulling you back in, lips crashing once more. 

A faint twinge of mint and chocolate still lingers on his lips, the only remaining evidence for his crime of raiding his momma's jar of Christmas chocolates. Or maybe cowboys just taste like that. Rough as stone, carved and broken into jagged edges by the test of time, but sweet as can be on your lips. 

He steps forward at the same time you do, already can't stand the minuscule gap between your bodies. But your foot slips between his, and the side of his spur catches on the toe of your shoe, and you're falling. 

Your elbow slams into the wooden floor. Chin bouncing off his too-firm chest. It's a damn miracle that he's the one who fell backward. You may not have survived if your positions were reversed, solid as he is. 

"Guess I fell for you," Rhett wheezes, groaning low in his throat. 

"Idiot," giggling.

Figuring out where your legs have landed is a task of its own, your frozen joints protesting any further movement for fear of another catastrophic fall. Rhett doesn't make much of an attempt to move. Content to part his legs and let your body fit between them, knees resting against your hips. 

His palm finds your cheek, calloused fingertips stroking the soft skin there. You're melting into it before you can realize what you're doing, drowning in the sensation of how big his hand is. You think it could cover half of your face without even trying.

"'n here I thought I'd fucked this all up," his hum vibrates through his chest and right into yours; kind of feels like distant thunder. 

"I didn't know how to bring it back up after Joy left." It's easy again. Talking to him, confessing exactly what's on your mind without fear of further fracturing things. "Then you didn't say anything either, and I...figured I'd read into it the wrong way." 

His thumb finds the corner of your mouth, gently tugging it up into a squished smile. "Oops." 

You can't help but reach for him, too, your hand finding his cheek once more, just for the hell of it. In the shadows of the fire, you can see the small chunk of skin permanently missing from his nose. An old scar from a kitchen fight with Perry a while back, courtesy of Perry's wedding ring and an argument that you don't remember the context of. Something about a remark Perry made on an already tense night. 

Should you?

Rhett blinks.

Yeah, you should.

"Watcha doin'?" He asks, scrunching his nose as you lean in, pressing your lips to that little scar. 

"Something I've thought about doing ever since you barged through my front door with blood pouring down your face," pressing another to the tip of his nose. 

"Funny, I recall y' wantin' to hit me at first." 

"Because you scared the hell out of me." 

"'s that why y' tripped me just now?" There's that light tone in his voice. Taunting. "Revenge?"

"Shut up." You know where this is going.

So does he. "Make me—" 

Kissing him quiet. Another thing off your bucket list. Maybe it was on his, too, because he laughs into your mouth like he's been waiting on this his whole damn life. Hell, you know you have. 

Your skin prickles beneath your layers of clothing, burning from head to toe, and you can only peel your winter coat off so fast. Pulling away from him might be the hardest thing you've ever done, but in the time it takes you to shrug it off, Rhett has gotten his off, too. That old black undershirt hugs his frame a little bit too well; you almost stop and stare.

Almost. 

Rhett's arm loops over your shoulders as you come back to him, hand curling around your bicep, lazily hanging on. Those jackets must have been a mile-thick because you don't recall being this close last time, his chest against yours, heart beating so heavy that you can feel it. 

But you're a little bit too far down, an ache blooming in the back of your neck at the strain to reach him. You don't want to move, but now that you've noticed it, the pain is the only thing that you can think about. Gives you no real choice but to dig your knees into the hard floor and scoot up—

"Mmh—!" 

You don't remember breaking away from Rhett, but you must have because you're blinking down at him, and he's found time to clamp a hand over his mouth. Eyes the size of dinner plates. Red in the ears.

"Did I...?" Suddenly aware of where your thigh is resting right now. 

"Just a little bit," he doesn't seem to have any interest in making you move, either, using the arm around your shoulders to pull you back down once more. 

You don't know how you've survived so long without this. 

The pressure of his lips, the stubble on his jaw, the awkward bump of noses that haven't learned where to go quite yet. It's all so new, and yet you can already feel the embers of an addiction burning to life, roaring as hot as the fire, and you might need him more than you need to breathe. Heaven is a place on earth, and its name is Rhett Abbott. 

Your forearms brace themselves on either side of his head, steadying yourself before you can become inconceivably lost. And again, your thigh unintentionally presses into him, and he's groaning low in his throat, lithe hips bucking up into it. You can't help yourself this time, intentionally grinding into the growing tent in his jeans, feeling his knees flutter around you. 

"I'm sorry, I..." clarity strikes like lightning.  "I'm rushing things, aren't I?"

"Naw, I'm..." he looks off to the side. Sheepish. "Kind of into it." 

Even now, he's still Rhett. Bold one moment and shy the next, his impulses always a moment quicker than everything else. You don't need to ask if he's mortified about saying that out loud; the big dummy is already showing it. Gulping so hard that you can see the muscles in his neck flex with the effort, his cheeks three shades redder. 

You throw one of your legs over his, straddling it, the silence broken by the sound of your knee hitting the floor a little too hard. And again, he covers his mouth when your thigh grinds into him, but he fails to conceal the slight roll of his eyes. Breathing hard through his nose, impulsively twitching up into your touch.

"You're something else, cowboy," you can't help but find your way to his jaw, pressing kisses into the soft outline of bone. His legs flutter around your thigh, clinging onto it as you work it against him. The arm around your shoulders tightens; you fear you might be anchored here. 

It's on the side of his neck that you can feel the faint rumble of a moan, so quiet that it fails to make its way past his hand, but it's there. You suppose you shouldn't be surprised about it, but your daydreams never involved getting around this obstacle. There's no way you're prying his hand away, not with how he uses the same damn hand to cling onto the back of a thousand-pound bull every Sunday night. 

Your lips make their way to the space below his ear, sucking lightly at an old scar that lingers there. He jumps. Hand coming off his mouth just long enough to audibly suck in a breath, cutting off the beginnings of a whine. His back rises off the ground, grinding into you the best he can. But it's not enough. He's still chasing you like he wants more, and you still can't hear him.

You're so quick to replace your thigh with your hand that you can almost deceive yourself into believing you've done this before. Palm pressing firm against his bulge, gently massaging the heel of it into him, and he jerks again. Impulsively reaching for your wrist, head tipping back, lips parted. 

"That...you...I..." he can't talk. Words broken apart by surprisingly ragged breaths. Worked up over so fucking little. It has no right to make you clench around his thigh; desperation is a hellishly contagious virus. 

You might be drooling. 

Lazy, you fall into the space next to him, your leg splayed over his, hyper-aware of the way you've just tucked yourself under his arm and how perfectly you fit. That rodeo buckle falls open at the slightest pressure, button popping open just as eagerly. He shouldn't get anything out of the sensation of you tugging on his zipper, but his hips rise as if he can feel every bit of it. 

The moment your hand wraps around his cock, his head thunks against yours. Not hard enough for it to hurt, but the impact still makes you wince.

"Ow."

"I'm sorr—" his teeth sink into his bottom lip. Biting back a noise as your thumb blindly traces the underside of his tip. "Sorry. Shit." 

If only you could go back in time and tell yourself to do this sooner. You don't know how you can ever expect to go back from this. Lying with your head propped on the side of his chest, gingerly drawing him through the opening of his jeans, the head of his cock so wet that it glistens in the firelight, a bead of precum spilling over, barely caught by your thumb. 

Rhett's scruffy cheek presses against your forehead, blindly nuzzling into you as your hand wanders, gradually working down his length. It's such a simple motion, but his hips rise to chase you on your way back up, a stifled noise rumbling out of his chest. The tip of your index finger glides over his tip, rubbing past his slit and—

"Mmh!" Jumping like a live wire. Still muffled, but louder than last time. 

You can't help but repeat it, using your thumb to draw loose circles against his weeping tip. Those hips jump again, slipping from your grasp. But it doesn't take more than a second to get ahold of him again, a sharp little sound slipping out of him as you pick up right where you left off. Swirling around and around and around. 

"Who taught you how to..." He sucks in a breath. "Who taught..." But he can't finish that thought, trailing off into nothingness once more. 

You haven't the slightest clue where your voice has gone. Lost somewhere in your throat, stolen by the same thing that took Rhett's ability to speak. 

All of a sudden, he's moving. Rolling onto his side, blindly guiding himself with his nose until he can properly find your lips, stealing them away before you can find a way to talk. You don't know if you could have come up with words even if you wanted to. Not when he whines into your mouth like that.

Whatever you were trying to do before this is lost to the abyss. Too wrapped up in the feeling of his lips melting against yours and the tiny noises he's making to realize that you're properly stroking him now. Working up and down his cock as if you're already familiar with it, wrist lazily twisting on every upward glide.

"Shit, I'm—" His voice is raspy all of a sudden. "I..."

He doesn't finish that thought, either. Mouth hanging open with a silent moan, his hand reaching to cling to the side of your shoulder. Something to hang onto. He might crumble into a million tiny pieces if he doesn't. And he's panting into your mouth like a dog in the blistering heat; it's hardly even a kiss anymore, but neither of you is making any move to pull away. 

His breath audibly catches in his throat. Cock twitching, cumming with a whine. Painting your still-moving hand white, spreading over his length, makes this sickeningly loud squelching sound that ought to make your head swim. Fuck there's so much of it, rope after rope of white, making a damn mess that you haven't the slightest hope of cleaning up. 

"Sens—ah!" His big hand dwarfs your wrist as he grabs it. Forcing it still. 

"Too much?" 

"Too much." 

It's quiet. 

At least, it is for a moment or two. The wind squeals outside the fragile window, ripping around the edges of the cabin, frantically searching for a crack in the foundation to squeeze through, desperate to steal the heat of the fire out from under you. But the flames still dance, the wood crackling as it burns. 

The squeal of the wooden floor is your only indication that Rhett is moving, rolling over top of you in the blink of an eye. His mouth finds the side of your neck, the scruff clinging to his chin brushing against the skin there, as if the heat of his lips alone wasn't enough to make you gasp.

"I thought..." Words. Where the hell are your words? What were you even about to ask him?

"Never said I was done," his voice vibrates up your spine, rattling the thoughts swirling around your head. 

His body slips between your knees like it's something you've been doing for your entire lives. And maybe he did wind up there once a few months ago when you snatched the hat off his head and tried to flee the scene, but you don't remember it feeling quite like this. 

You don't get to linger on that thought for too long. Not when he's pepering kisses across your sensitive neck, his tongue boldly darting out to trace the outline of a vein. Heat flushes across your body. The tiny, invisible embers of a fire sparking to life, the smoke already beginning to cloud your head.

"Rhett," gasping. Now it's your turn to squeeze your legs around him, vaguely aware of how you can feel his hip bones pressing against you. Firm, nothing but muscle trained from a lifetime of ranch work, rippling under your touch. You can't help yourself, grabbing hold of a bicep with your only clean hand. 

And you can just barely catch how he pauses, peering up at you through thick lashes, like something has just occurred to him. Doesn't make any move to voice it, but his smile is enough of a hint. 

"Is this," smooching at the collar of your shirt, the flimsiest barrier that you wish wasn't there, "alright?"

On their own, your legs squeeze around him, forcing him closer. "More than alright." Because telling him that you never want him to stop might be a little too much too soon.

Big hands dip beneath your shirt, tracing with his nails as they glide up your sides. Your back arches up off the ground. Not sure if you're chasing the sensation or running away from it. The bottom of your shirt catches on his wrists, sliding up until he's pushed the fabric over your chest. 

"So fuckin' pretty," downright marveling at you, his eyes shimmering like he's just found a pot of gold. There's a whole night ahead of you, but he doesn't give himself time to linger. There's a whole lifetime of kisses to catch up on, and he's already getting started, peppering his way down your chest. 

You've waited all this time, only to have one available hand to use, forced to let go of his bicep and curl into his hair instead, fingers twirling in the loose curls that rest at his nape. Can't do both. Not without making a bigger mess out of your cum stained hand, and it might just be the worst thing that's ever happened to you. 

Because here he is. Real and warm and alive and kissing at the underside of your breast, those big blue eyes flickering up to drink in your expression, and you can't touch him how you want to. You feel like you're gonna float away. One more kiss, and you're gone. Out the window. Never to be seen or heard from again. One with the snow. 

Rhett laughs against your belly, almost sends you straight through the roof instead. "'m I takin' too long?"

"Huh?" Blinking.

"You're squintin' at me like you're mad 'bout somethin'," and now that he says that, you can feel your face begin to relax. 

"I'm not mad." Have your internal thoughts always been that obvious?

"Your little nose is scrunched up," kissing closer to the start of your sweats, poking his tongue out to lick his way down. "You're mad."

"I'm not mad," holding up your sticky palm, "I'm just frustrated that I can't use my hand." 

He was just in the process of curling his fingers beneath your waistband, but he pauses, fishing for something in his back pocket. That red handkerchief again. Passes it off to you before returning to the task at hand, but you're already one step ahead, lifting your hips until he's gotten the fabric over the swell of your ass. 

You don't realize he's stolen your underwear until the breeze hits you, thighs shyly squeezing together. Don't really know what for; it's not as if you weren't anticipating this, but now that you're in the moment...

Rhett tilts his head, looks kind of like a confused puppy sitting at your heels, those gears visibly twisting and turning in his head. His eyes widen with a thought, and before you know it, he's reaching for his own waistband, shoving them past his legs and over his ankles. 

Now you're both naked from the waist down. 

He reaches for your ankle, delicately lifting your leg until he can kiss at the inside of it. Not satisfied until he's marked every square inch of you. But your knees still remain defiantly glued together. Timid, as if you haven't thought about this more times than you'd like to admit. 

His hands dip beneath your naked thighs. Raking his nails down the sensitive skin there. And for a fleeting moment, the concept of worry has flown straight out the window, your legs falling open with a shiver. 

Fuck just the feeling of him kissing your inner thigh is enough to make you whine. A little spark of heat darting up your core is the tiniest thing, and yet it's the most overwhelming thing you've felt in your life. Because it's Rhett. It's Rhett fucking Abbott sucking a mark into your skin, right where it'll poke out from beneath your pajama shorts and tell everyone who sees it what you've been up to. 

"'s this too much?" He hums. He fucking hums. Sends you jumping.

"Yes." That's not what you wanted to say. "Maybe? No? I don't know." Your head thunks against the floor, can't give a damn about if it hurts or not.

Rhett pauses. "Want me to stop?"

"No!" Too loud. You said that way too loud. "No... I—I want you to keep going. It's just...new?" 

There go those hands again, massaging the fat of your thighs, stealing away whatever tension was lingering there. His mouth burns against them, working another mark into your skin, just in case the first one disappears too quickly. 

"You just tell me when it's too much, a'ight?" He murmurs, peering up at you, and it's all you can do to nod and utter a fragile 'yes.' 

There's a rising chance that he'll be bringing you home in a sack and spend the next week gluing you back together because you might fall apart at any given moment. Nerves alight with a newfound anxiousness. You don't know what for. This is Rhett you're talking about here. Same old cowboy that you've known for as long as you can remember. 

Lips find the thin skin where your thigh joins with the rest of your body. Jumping out of your skin is suddenly a very possible task. 

"Y've no idea how long I've been wantin' to do this." And that's the last thing you hear before his mouth is on you.

You might pass away on the spot. Off to heaven, hell, or whatever the fuck is out there. 

But all that comes of it is a hitched breath, a shudder racing through your body as his burning hot tongue licks a long strip up your cunt. Experimental. Does it again when your hips rise up off the floor; he's just started, and you're already impatiently chasing him. 

"Hang on, hang on. 'm takin' care of ya," you can hear the smile in his voice as he forces you back onto the floor. "Don't gotta chase me for it." 

It's a promise he's already making good on. 

Lazily mouthing at your clit, nothing but fleeting barely-there touches that have you squirming and biting into your fist. Oh, shit shit shit, he's twirling his tongue around it now, directly targeting that poor little bud for nothing but a few seconds.

Your whine is too damn loud for this little cabin; his folks probably heard you from ten miles up the road. But all Rhett does is curl his arms around your thighs, dragging you closer. One of your legs wind up over his shoulder, and you don't know when you started reaching down, but you're pawing at his forehead. Helpless as he prods his tongue at your entrance, pushing inside if only to feel you clench around him for a moment or two.

"Rhett," you don't know what you're babbling about. Didn't know you were talking until your ears catch the familiar tone of your own voice.

The bastard fucking hums, vibrating up your lower belly and through your spine, and again you're jumping. But you're not getting anywhere. Not with those arms around your thighs, holding you perfectly still as his tongue glides up through your folds, drawing a little figure eight around your clit. 

His lips wrap around it again, gently sucking on it as he flicks the tip of his tongue over it and—

"Too much!" Your hands are in his hair. Yanking him away. "Too much."

You don't know what the hell you'll do with the sight of Rhett's chin glistening in the light, thin lips stretched around a big ol' grin as he climbs back up your body. 

"Cute thing," he chuckles; you pretend you don't feel how wet his mouth is when he kisses your cheek.

He's already hard again. Cock so heavy that it can't even stand, resting against a pale, freckled thigh. It's so damn close to where you want him. Can only imagine what it would be like to feel him push into you for the first time, but there's an item critically missing here. 

Rhett's nose bumps against yours. "Y' look mad again."

"Because I just realized that we don't have lube," you grumble. 

...or maybe you do because he's on the move all of a sudden. Grabbing the pant leg of his discarded jeans and dragging them over, rustling through the pockets until he finds what he's looking for. 

Lube packets.

"Were you planning on this, or do you just keep lube on you at all times?" You can't help but ask, can't really believe what you're looking at right now.

"Believe it or not, I use it when that fuckin' barn door gets jammed," he pauses, tearing at the corner of a packet with his teeth, "but I'd rather it be you than a rusty hinge."

Eyeroll. "How romantic."

Even his oversized hand isn't enough to make his cock look any less intimidating; you thought it would dwarf in comparison, but it's almost as if the complete opposite has happened. Daunting, even as he strokes a generous amount of lube over himself. The voice in your head suggests that you might have bitten off more than you can chew, but there's only one way to find out for sure.

The calloused tip of his middle finger glides between your folds. Has you jumping a little bit. A slight pressure blooms, slowly pushing into you, his gaze fixated on the sight. It certainly feels bigger than it looked, if that is even remotely possible, blindly feeling around for a particular little spot.

The asshole knows he's found it before you even do. Pushing a second, dripping finger into you, deliberately crooking them to rub up into it. Heat sparks between your thighs. Pretty sure that's just the lube, but you're convinced that you can feel yourself getting wetter, already hopelessly desperate. 

"Rhett," mewling in a tone so unlike you that it's almost insulting. 

"What?" Tilting his head.

You didn't really think that far. Aren't particularly sure of what it is you want or why you're saying his name, but your arms lift themselves into the air, hands opening and closing in a vague grabbing motion. You still don't know what you initially wanted, but you sure would like to have him closer.

And he gives it to you. 

Carefully settles into your waiting arms without a fuss, his lips wrangled up into another one of those wild grins that you can never seem to get enough of. A strand of hair falls out from behind his ear, just long enough for the ends of it to tickle your cheek, drawing a giggle out of you. And for reasons unbeknownst to you, he giggles, too. 

His length rudely bumps against your thigh, demanding attention from both of you. Damn thing is so heavy that he has no choice but to reach down and guide himself, dragging the fat tip through your folds just for the hell of it. A slight pressure appears at your entrance. Then, disappears. Slipping upward and gliding past your clit instead. 

But then the pressure appears again, and this time he's not intentionally screwing up to mess with you. Air jams in your throat. 

"Gonna have to relax for me, sweetheart," he whispers; there's that pet name again. God, you might legally change your name to sweetheart just so he'll call you that every day for the rest of your life. Something in your lower belly unwinds. "There y' go." 

The fat tip slips into you without any further warning, simultaneously puts a shiver in your bones, and steals away the little bit of clarity that you had left. You don't even know what you're shaking for. The fire is still crackling next to you, albeit dimmer than it was before. The room is far from cold, but you can't seem to keep still, quivering like an autumn leaf in the breeze.

Rhett appears like a fucking daydream. Cradling your face in his hands, a sudden presence that you've somehow managed to forget about, murmuring something against your lips that sounds like your name. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. You don't care to find out, too eager to steal him away in a kiss instead. 

Your arms wind around his shoulders, nails biting into the muscle that you find there, clinging to him for dear life as his cock gradually pushes into you. Inch after devastating inch, your chest progressively becoming tighter and tighter, as if you're running out of space to give. 

This can't be right. There's no way that you're really doing this. Lying here in the deserted cabin out on Calico Creek, nothing but a fire and Rhett's burning body to keep you warm, thighs squeezing his sharp hips as he sinks into you. It's a scene plucked right out of your own wild imagination. You should be waking up right now. Alone, in bed, like you have every other time this has happened.

But the scruffy chin that your hand has found its way to feels so real. The kiss breaks. Rhett leans back just far enough for you to catch sight of that stupid old grin, and holy shit, you've got Rhett fucking Abbott's cock in you right now. 

"Just a little more," he's murmuring so nonchalantly, and you really, truly, have no idea if that 'little more' is gonna fit or not. 

It either fits, or you pass away in the process of trying. The jury is still out for that one. One way or another, though, he's bottoming out, body flush with yours, not a centimeter left to take, and you think you've stopped breathing. Rhett has, too, for that matter. Completely and utterly quiet as he leans back, lashes fluttering at what he finds. 

"'m almost too big for your poor little pussy, shit." He's not staring; he's marveling at you.  "You're sure I ain't hurtin' ya?" The pad of his thumb traces where you're stretched around him, hopelessly bound together with no hope of ever untangling from each other.

Experimental, his hips roll, drawing a little noise past your lips. It's so much. So, so much. Helplessly curling your legs around his waist, heels digging into the swell of his ass, as if that can possibly save you. 

Rhett's not doing much better. Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, timidly drawing back by an inch before pushing back in just as slowly as he did the first time. His labored breath burns through your skin, grumbling something incoherent below his breath. But he's doing it again, and now, now...

"Fuck, Rhett,"  whimpering, clinging to his shoulders. 

The fire could go out at this very moment, and you would never feel even a wisp of the cold, not with how he's already finding a lazy rhythm. Hardly pulling out, rocking your body beneath him. His weight is the only thing keeping you from scooting up the floor, little puffs of air knocked out of you with every thrust. 

He's got it just as bad as you do. Panting into your mouth like a dog, the softest noises resting in the back of his mouth. Still sensitive from already cumming once. 

All of a sudden, he draws back, and for a fleeting moment, you're horrified that he's already pulling out of you. But he's pushing back into you a little quicker now and, and, and...

"'s that feel good?" He's grunting, already peeling back to do that again. The length of his cock grazes against a familiar bundle of nerves. Stars sparkle behind your vision.

"Uhuh," all that you can come up with.

Now that he's found it, he's not letting up. Moving a little quicker now. A wet little noise punctuating the snap of his hips, your poor pussy helplessly fluttering around him, so fucking full of him that it almost aches. Writhing beneath him, torn between wriggling away from the sensation and pushing into it, as if you have any choice when you're pinned beneath him like this.

"Can feel ya clenchin' round my cock, sweetheart," he's grinning as he says it, cocky in the worst way imaginable. 

Your face is so hot that you're gonna catch on fire. "Please quit talking."

To his credit, he does exactly as you ask, but that does nothing to wipe the stupid fucking grin off his face. You can't escape it. Not when he's leaning back onto his haunches, just far enough to gaze down at where his thick cock disappears into you, and suddenly you can see it. Such a wide fucking stretch that you feel bite-sized beneath him.

The weeping head of his cock strikes those little nerves. Knocks a cry right out of you. And it's the worst possible thing you could have done because he's doing it again. Tilting his hips, working just a little quicker now, drilling into that same fucking spot. 

"'s that the spot?" He coos, breathless, his hands finding your hips, dragging you into. Every. Single. Thrust. "Fuck, I don't know how I even fit in ya."

You don't even know how to talk anymore, never mind put up with his senseless mutterings. Voice caught in your throat, your cries completely and utterly silent. Blindly pawing at his forearms. Squeezing. Clawing. You manage to get ahold of one, dragging it up to your chest like you're trying to hug the damn thing. 

"Rhett," your voice wavers, "Rhett, I want—" Closer. You want him closer. But all you can manage to do is pull on his arm.

Those pretty eyes widen. The next thing you know, he's coming back to you. Using his only forearm to brace his weight beside your head, his chest snug against yours once again. You only let go of his arm in exchange for his shoulders, practically pulling him into a hug. 

Rhett nuzzles his nose into the side of your cheek, his hot breath tickling your ear. "Don't want me too far away?"

"No," grumbling. 

You've got just enough leverage to crane your neck up, mouthing at the sweaty underside of his neck. You're not trying to leave marks. Not when you know that you'll have no choice but to face his family after this; it's only a matter of time before Perry puts two and two together, but you can't help yourself. Lips finding a space just beneath his ear, mindlessly sucking on the skin there, uncaring of what evidence you leave behind.

Rhett whines. Loud in your ear, sends your lower belly twisting with something inexplicably warm, pussy clamping down around him, drawing a second sound out of him. His arms shiver. Fighting to keep his weight up. Hardly has the strength to pull away from your mouth, his hips stuttering.

"Look how well you're takin' me," he's peeled back just far enough for you to get a glimpse, mouth hanging open, can't seem to shut himself up.

"It's mortifying." 

"It's hot." 

You'd argue. You want to argue, but fuck, you can't. Not when he's got you pinned to the floor like this, fat cock bullying into your poor pussy, panting into each other's mouths like it's the only thing you're good for. A lewd smack of skin on skin defiling every innocent memory you've ever had here. 

There's a familiar coil in your lower belly, your cunt clenching down around him, legs locking around him. Your vision blurs. Chest tight. "I'm..." 

"Yeah," he's agreeing before you've even finished your thought. 

It's the mistake of looking down that does you in. The obscene sight of his wet cock disappearing into you, those strong hips stuttering as you clench around him again, punctuated by that stupid breathy moan that falls off his tongue. 

Your back arches off the floor, burying your face into the crook of his neck as it hits you. Heart hammering against your chest. Ears ringing. Cumming around his cock with nothing but a choked wail. Helplessly clinging to him, squeezing him so tight that your arms ache from it.

The fire might as well jump out and engulf you in flames; everything is burning. Distantly aware of how your legs have begun to tremble again, locked so tight around him that you can feel him try and fail to pull away from you. Babbling something about how you need to let him go, one of his hands pawing at your thigh. Pushing, trying his best to peel you away.

But it's too late. His hips are seizing up, and your eyes are opening to the sound of his strangled whine, collapsing back into you. The muscles in his back twitch beneath your fingertips as his orgasm washes over him, cock spasming so hard that you can almost convince yourself that you feel his cum flooding you.

Oh.

Oh shit, he's cumming in you. 

You should be more worried about it than you actually are, lazily letting your legs unwind from around him, uncaring about the kind of problems that this is going to cause in a few minutes. Worry is beyond you, on a completely different plane of existence. The only thing your mind has the ability to comprehend is the warmth of Rhett's face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, a final shiver racing up his spine before he becomes dead weight on top of you.

"You..." he tries, breathless. "Was that...too much?"

You don't even know where your voice has gone, wordlessly laughing into his shoulder. "It was perfect," is what you try to say, but your poor tongue can hardly shape around the letters, nothing but a senseless warble leaving you instead. And maybe Rhett's got the same condition because whatever he says next makes no sense, either.

It takes a minute for him to roll off of you, and when he does, you wind up rolling with him, your naked back facing the fire. You don't really mean to, just mindlessly following, can't look away from him for more than a second. The fire isn't nearly as bright as it was when all of this first started, but certainly not any cooler. Heat licking up your sensitive back. Pleasant at first, but the longer it goes on...

"This fire is hot on my ass," your sentence makes sense this time. 

His hand drifts down onto your ass cheek. Your eyes roll. Rhett's face lights up with a giggle, lips twisting up into a smile that you need to kiss off of him. Even if you can't really lift your head, noses crashing, kisses reduced to fleeting pecks. 

"If I woulda known this was gonna happen, I promise I would've brought somethin' to clean you up with," he murmurs, reaching to brush something off of your jaw. You don't want to know what it is.

"If I had known this was going to happen," your momentum is interrupted by a yawn, "we wouldn't have made it out of my bedroom." 

He winks at you. "We can still make that happen."

"Oh my god." Eyeroll. You're gonna walk home. 

Or, you would if he didn't curl an arm around your waist and pull you into him like a teddy bear that he's suddenly decided he wants to snuggle. And you just fit into the space below his chin so perfectly that you can't possibly bring yourself to move. 

The wind wails outside, and the fire desperately needs tending to, but neither of you are moving. If anything, you're making it worse, tangling your legs together, wedging an arm around his torso, and for a moment, you can convince yourself that you can stay like this forever. Wrapped up in your favorite person, out here on Calico Creek, never to be seen or heard from again. Lost to the magic of winter. 

Your stomach growls. 

So does his.

Laughter spins through the air. 

Maybe forever out on this creek would only work if you had electricity and a snack. But you don't mind losing out on forever, so long as Rhett's with you. Just like he always has been, snowstorm or not. 

[steddielations]

Flight of Icarus lore dump part 2:

Part 1 | Character List

- Wayne has a green thumb. He reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine. It doesn’t say what he grows, but it says he buys vegetables from the store so I’m going to say that gruff old man Wayne has the prettiest petunias in the whole trailer park.

- Eddie sneaks into the Hawk with his best friend Ronnie to watch action movies and thinks Snake Plissken, Han Solo and Conan the Barbarian are cool.

- Eddie talks for hours about the intricacies of Elven politics in Tolkien.

- Eddie read comics as a kid and hid them all over the house "like a little squirrel" under the bed, behind the nightstand, under the rug. Wayne found his Uncanny X-Men in the freezer between stacks of tv dinners. Also, "Hellfire Club" comes from these X-Men comics.

- Floor time! There's a part where Eddie is literally just lying on his back on his bedroom floor counting down from a million. When Wayne comes home, Eddie army crawls on his belly to the doorway to see him.

- Eddie reads Gormenghast paperbacks, gothic fantasy novels. It mentions that Wayne saved them from the house fire along with Eddie’s guitar. It never says how/when Eddie originally got his guitar.

- Eddie says lots of cc’s original songs have D&D references. It's implied that he writes them. One is called “Fire Shroud” after a spell

- Eddie is called Freak King at school and Munson Junior or just Junior around town and he hates all of it

- Eddie talks about having anxiety a lot and it's implied he has had panic attacks in the past

- Eddie is the lead singer and guitarist of cc. He started the band with Ronnie specifically because it was required to participate in the school talent show.

- Neither Wayne or Al graduated high school. When Eddie (temporarily) drops out, Al celebrates.

- Eddie doesn't cook. He doesn't even own a spatula. The smell of cooking in their house actually shocks him and gives him a deep longing for family meals, which Al uses to manipulate him

- Eddie jokes about being into Saturday Night Fever and strikes the pose a couple times.

- Eddie knows how to hotwire and how to pick locks. Al taught him this at the age of ten. Eddie is "disgusted" with himself any time he does either of those things.

- Eddie "drives like a monster" when he's upset about something.

- Eddie smokes cigarettes occasionally. Weed is mentioned a lot in the book but it never says anything about Eddie smoking it or doing any drugs. He either doesn't smoke much or he hasn't tried anything yet in the book. Also, he’s just now meeting Rick. But It’s pretty clear after everything he went through why he would start

- There's lots of mentions of PBR and Bud Light. Though Eddie says he doesn't like to drink after his shifts at the Hideout (where he's a barback). He mostly drinks off-brand Big Buy soda in the book (he calls it "pop")

- Eddie's parents were married on March 12th, 1966. The date is inscribed on the bottle of their wedding wine. Eddie asks what kind it is and Al says they only had 'red or white' kind of money

- Al breaks out the wedding wine (to manipulate Eddie, you guessed it) it's red wine and Eddie really, really likes it

- Eddie went to War Zone with his dad for supplies for the truck heist (spike strips, coveralls, etc)

- Eddie's band played Exciter by Judas Priest at the talent show. The song was only approved because they emphasized the "priest"

- There was another (?) talent show in Winter of 1981 where Eddie's band played "Prowler" and they were kicked off stage halfway through because the song was considered Satanic, and the PTA visited all their parents for trying to convert everyone to Satanism.

- Eddie imagines hitting his dad twice. Once with a glass bottle and once with a metal wrench. (He should've- oops who said that)

- The only hug Eddie gets in the book is when his dad first comes back, Eddie knows it's the first step in his cycle of showing up, using Eddie and leaving, but Eddie still accepts the hug and feels guilty for enjoying it.

- It's implied Eddie gets close to tears a couple times in the book, but the only time they actually spring up is when his mom's favorite song (from Muddy Waters) comes on in the truck radio while Eddie is doing the heist with his dad and feeling awful about it. Eddie has several flashbacks of dancing with her to this song, it seems like his happiest memory that he always returns to.

- Whenever Eddie is doing what his dad wants (hotwiring, charming a person into their plans) he puts on what he calls his "best Al Munson smile" and he's terrified that it will eventually take over his whole face. There's a part at the end where Eddie is sitting in a jail cell and says "All I want to do is tear my face off. If a new one grows in it's place, maybe it'll make me a different person. Someone who isn't such a complete fuckup."

[supergirl000983]

Going Home

Travis Wheatley x Dutton!Reader

Warning: Smut, Language,

Note: No one ever writes for Travis, so I decided I was going to. Also, he's not a whore in this. lol

The Middle Child

The Youngest Daughter

The Favorite Child

Y/N Dutton…well technically she had been Y/N Wheatley for 8 years now hell she was the only one outta her siblings that seemed to be popping out more than one kid. Then again that was more because even after being together for 15+ years her and Travis still couldn’t keep their hands off each other. That’s actually how they ended up in their position now with her bent over his office desk and him fucking her from behind. “With the bruises you will have on your hips I’m gonna owe you flowers.” Travis said as he leaned down kissing his wife’s neck. “Fuck flowers buy me a fucking horse and fuck me for the rest of our lives.” She said turning her head to give him better access. “God, I fucking love you” he said as he brought his hand around to rub circles on her clit after a few moments they both reached their climaxes. After a few minutes he pulled out and kissed his wife’s shoulder and popped her on the ass. “I’m almost positive that you are pregnant with baby #5 after that.” “Well considering we’ve been fucking like rabbits in heat I would hope so.” Y/N said after they were both dressed. Y/N turned and hugged her husband knowing she had to tell him the real reason she came in here. “We need to go back to my dad’s ranch for a little bit I’m not sure how long. I just know he called and said he needed all of us there for a little bit.” She said looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Ok. We will leave in the morning I’ll have Rayden and Harlow help Stetson and Wren-Leigh pack. If you will go ahead and get our bags packed, I’ll get the SUV read and have Lucas follow behind us with the truck and horse trailer?” He said as he pulled her, so her head was on his chest. They stayed like that for a moment with him rubbing her back before there was a knock on the door then the voice of their oldest child Rayden who was 14 years old. “Mom Aunt Beth’s on the phone she said Uncle Jamie is in deep shit with the rest of the family.” Y/N walked over and opened the door to take the phone and reminding her child to watch his mouth. “Hello?” She asked “God, do you ever answer your fucking phone? I have called your mobile like 4-5 times.” Beth scolded her. Y/N felt bad as she looked over and saw her phone on Travis’s desk. “Sorry I was busy handling something.” “More like busy handling a certain horse trainer.” “What did you call for Bethy?” “Jamie is running for Governor of Montana, and I need my dear sweet sister’s help to take him down.” “We will be on the road first thing in the morning.” Y/N said before disconnecting her son’s phone then handing it back to him and sending him to go pack and help his younger siblings pack. “Holy shit. What the fuck is Jamie thinking. Like Governor? He wants to be governor now?” She said as she crawled into her husband’s lap on the couch of his office. “I don’t know darlin.” He said wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the forehead before standing up with her and carrying her to their bedroom. Sitting her on the bed he started to pack for both of them. “Make sure you pack your green hoodie.” Y/N said as she walked to the bathroom to pack up their bathroom bags. After she got done packing the bathroom bag, she helped Travis finish packing. Then they parted ways with a kiss so he could go start loading bags in the car and she could walk through the house to finish helping the kids pack.

She came to a stop in front of her youngest's room where Harlow was helping Wren pack. "Why don't I finish packing Wren's bag and you take your stuff down to your daddy ok?" Y/N said as she walked up to her daughters. "Ok Mama." Harlow her 10-year-old daughter said as she grabbed her 4-H duffle bag, and walking out the door. "Mama are going to see Grandpa?" Wren her 5-year-old asked looking up at her. "Yeah, baby we are. Mama and Aunt Bethy have to take care of something for grandpa." She said looking down at her blonde headed child that she swore she could have had completely by herself. "Does that mean I get to see Uncle Rippy?" the small child asked as she grabbed her stuffed moose who she took with her everywhere. "Yes, baby that means you get to see Uncle Rippy, and Uncle Kayce, Aunt Monica, and Tate." "TATE?!" Wren screeched as she stopped in front of her dad that had just walked into her room to get whatever was left.

"Wren-Liegh Wheatley inside voice." Travis scolded as he grabbed her 4-h duffle from Y/N. "Sorry daddy I'm just really excited to see Tate." The small child looked a Travis with the same puppy dog eyes her mom uses. Travis gave his youngest a kiss on the head before sending her to go help her siblings feed their horses. "How do feel about leaving late tonight instead? Get there a lot earlier if we do." Travis asked his wife as he set the bag down and brought his hands to rest on her hips. "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll let Beth know we will be there earlier." She said leaning up to kiss her husband. As they kissed Travis's hands moved down to grab at her ass, but before it could get to heated, she pushed away a little keeping her hands on his chest. "We will definitely finish this later." She said as she fully pulled away and went to walk past him, but he was quicker, and his hand made contact with her ass. "Yes, we will." He said laughing following her out to the vehicle.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Putting under a read more because there’s some canon-typical violence and blood mentioned in this one. It’s still soft and cute though!

Eddie does his first tattoo by himself in his bedroom while his mama and Wayne are working night shift. He’s 15 and has no reason for etching a tornado into his thigh.

Except he does.

His mama’s always called him her little tornado. Wayne’s favorite story to tell him is the time he had to take Eddie into the trailer park’s communal underground shelter one week after he moved in because someone swore up and down there was a tornado a mile away. There wasn’t, but they stayed underground for nearly an hour anyway.

No one knows about it for years.

His second one is when he’s 17 and lies about his age in Indy, someone from the queer bar he’d found himself in offered to give him the bats for free and he couldn’t refuse. He probably should have. No one should get tattoos in the back of a truck at one in the morning.

The only one who knows about that is Jeff because he’s the one who had to help him clean it when it got infected.

At least until he’s 18 and his mama offers to take him to get his first one and he’s so bad at lying to her, she figures it out on her own.

She’s not mad. She got her first one done at 16, after all. But she warns him about how dangerous it is and says he needs to be safer.

“It ain’t just unprotected sex that’s causin’ the epidemic, baby.”

So he gets the chest piece done for his birthday, his mama bringing him to a shop with “real artists.”

Days before he plays the song to save the world, and more specifically, the guy he shouldn’t have a crush on, he gets a master of puppets tattoo.

He thinks maybe the fact that half of it gets eaten by bats makes it more badass.

Steve thinks it’s metal.

And then Steve sees all of his tattoos while he’s trying to stop the bleeding from…everywhere. He’s cutting him out of his pants and trying to fashion a tourniquet out of a thick denim that’s so drenched in blood, it’s impossible to see what color it was originally.

He sees the tornado tattoo, somehow still intact, but bloody, as is most of him.

“Hey. Talk to me.” Eddie’s losing consciousness, but he can focus on Steve’s voice. “Tell me about this one.”

“Mama’s tornado.” Eddie smiled to himself. Used up all the energy he had to do it. “Makin’ messes.”

He can hear Steve yelling at someone, something that sounds like “call his mom!” but he can’t be sure. The world turns to black.

When he wakes up, his Mama is sitting next to his hospital bed with a Cosmopolitan magazine in her hands. She’s chewing gum.

He smiles.

“Hey mama.”

“Hey my little tornado. Sure did cause a ruckus this time, didn’t ya?”

He falls asleep to her reading aloud, some article about getting a man to bring you flowers.

The next time he wakes up, there’s a bouquet of flowers by his bed, something that looks like it came from the side of the road, not a shop.

And there’s Steve.

Reading the same magazine.

“You know they suggest guilting your boyfriend or husband into buying you flowers? Was this why you almost died? To make me feel guilty enough to bring flowers?”

Eddie smirked.

“That was my plan all along.”

“It worked. I’ll give you that.”

Steve stayed, even when his mama showed up and gave them both a look that Eddie couldn’t quite distinguish.

He stayed when she left, giving her a hug on her way out the door.

And he stayed when he got to go to their new home, even bringing flowers along to add some color to Eddie’s new room.

[muschiettistrashmouth]

Heart - Eddie Munson

Note: I wrote this as I was listening to Heart by The Pretty Reckless. This is the song the reader sings.

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, Eddie being an idiot. Some uses of Fuck here and there.

Requested? No.

Words: 1414

Song link: Heart - The Pretty Reckless

Enjoy :)

Seeing Eddie everyday now talking with that girl was breaking your heart. No, you weren’t dating, no, he didn’t know you liked him either. You only realized you were in love with him last year and he was so opposed to love itself it always hurt you.

That’s when you started a band and started writing sad songs, to try and put this kind of love somewhere other than him. 

“Come on, princess…” Eddie was walking beside you in the hallways. “What do you have today that’s so important?”

“Band practice, Munson, I told you all week about that.”

“And after that?” 

“Why don’t you call Steve? Or, I don’t know, that girl you’ve been talking about.” You gulped after saying it, you wanted to hit yourself. 

He stopped, looking at you with hurt in his eyes.

“Ouch.” He said, putting a hand on his heart, being the clown he was. “Besides, I don’t want to call any of them. I’m asking you.”

“...” You sighed, turning to him. “Alright. I’ll go then.”

You rolled your eyes, opening your locker. 

“You’re the best!” 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

After the band practice, you went home to take a shower to go to Eddie’s trailer to see him as you promised you would.

You looked through all your clothes three times until you found something you’d like to wear, nervous that he had called you specifically to go with him to whatever he was planning to do. 

You got the car and drove yourself to the trailer park all dolled up for him. This was it, maybe you should tell him that you liked him today.

His van wasn’t there, maybe he was buying food for you both, maybe you would watch a movie tonight.

Getting out of your car, you knocked on the door, since Wayne’s truck was parked there, and waited.

“Oh, hello kiddo. What are you doing here?” Wayne smiled at you as he opened the door.

“Hello Wayne.” You gave him a little hug. “Uh, Eddie asked me to come…”

The rain started to fall lightly, making noises from the hood of the car and from hitting the top of the trailer.

“What? No, he went out with that girl… Heather?” He said, unsure of himself.

Your smile dropped.

“What? No, he asked me to come…” Your lips trembled as you held in your tears.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo.” Wayne looked at you with pity. “Want me to tell him you came here to see him?”

“Uh, no, I’ll tell him tomorrow.” You gave him a false smile, still holding your tears. “Bye, Wayne, thanks for telling me.”

“Bye, kiddo.” The man still looked at you with pity. “Drive safely.”

“Will do.”

You walked in the rain to your car, you honestly weren’t feeling anything, your body was numb. Was that how a heartbreak felt?

You drove all the way to Steve’s house, knowing well that Robin was there right now. As you parked the car near the entrance, you stayed there, looking at the rain pouring. It was almost as you were feeling inside right now.

You decided to get out of the car after some minutes there in complete silence, walking to Steve’s door and knocking.

“Yes, Robin, it must be the piz- Hey” Steve stopped in his tracks as he saw you there all wet from the rain. “Come on in.” 

“Was it the pi- y/n! What happened?” Robin walked from the kitchen, clearly waiting for their dinner.

This time you let the tears run free from your eyes, your make up was already ruined by the rain. 

“He’s with her.” 

“What? Who is with who?” Robin walked to you, holding your face with both hands as Steve went to get you a towel.

“Eddie…” 

“Oh yeah, weren’t you supposed to go to his trailer?” She started rambling.

“He wasn’t there. Wayne told me he went out  with Heather.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” Robin hugged your trembling frame, she didn’t care about getting wet too.

“Okay, what did I miss?” Steve put his hands on his hips, looking at you both.

“Munson is an idiot.” Robin stated, looking at her best friend through your shoulder.

“Okay then.” Steve held his hands up in surrender.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

The other day, Robin was walking you to your locker as she read the new lyrics you wrote the last night.

“This is really good.” 

“Everything I feel in a piece of paper.” You said as you opened your locker and got your lyrics back.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie hugged you as he walked to your locker with the hellfire club.

“Had fun last night?” You asked, didn’t even hug him back.

“How do you kn- of fuck, sweetheart, I completely forgot!” 

“You don’t say.” You rolled your eyes, getting your textbook and notebook in hand, closing the locker again. “Call me when you learn to be responsible.”

As you walked to class, Robin turned to him, pissed.

“You’re a piece of shit.” She started. “You know she likes you and you do that to her?”

“She what?” Eddie choked on his own saliva.

“Don’t be an idiot, think, Munson, think!” Robin gave him a flick on the forehead. “Man up.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

It was finally Saturday night, your band was finally getting ready to play at the Hideout. 

“You’re pretty like this, y/n/n��� Robin said as she held her drumsticks.

“I’m nervous.” 

“I know. Relax.” She jokes.

“Oh, thanks, I’m better.” You answer, showing her the middle finger and making her laugh.

All of your friends were there. Steve, Nancy, Eddie… Even the rest of the Corroded Coffin, since some of the Hellfire were too young to be there. You went onstage, smiling at them as you started.

After some songs, you decided to play your new song. 

“This is a new song I wrote after a heartbreak.” You started, your band getting ready to play it. “It’s called Heart.”

Never wanted to feel Never wanted you to steal my heart Never wanted to know Never wanted to show I'm weak

I'm falling all over myself Trying to be someone else I wish you were there to walk me home So I wouldn't have to feel alone

You closed your eyes, feeling the tears starting to appear.

Always wanted to beAlways wanted you to see my heartAlways wanted your loveAlways wanted, but never was

I'm falling all over myself

Trying to be someone else

I wish you were there to walk me home

So I wouldn't have to feel alone

I'm falling all over myself

Dying to be someone else

I wish you were there to walk me homeI

don't wanna fight the world alone

Steve noticed the obvious lyrics and gave a small slap behind Eddie’s head.

Never told you beforeNever loved you more

Eddie finally realized the song was about him, widening his eyes at you.

I'm falling all over myself

Trying to be someone else

I wish you were there to walk me home

So I wouldn't have to feel alone

I'm falling all over myself

Dying to be someone else

I wish you were there to walk me home

I don't wanna fight the world alone

I don't wanna fight the world alone

I don't wanna fight the world alone

That was your last song of the night. After that, you started to put away the instruments in one of the girl’s boyfriend’s van. As you were at it, Eddie walked over to talk.

“Can we talk?” He looked at you expectantly. 

“Where’s Heather?” You asked as you were helping the girls with the Drumms.

“Come on…” He pleaded, looking at you with those big doe eyes.

“You left me in the rain and went out with someone else.” You started. “After you insisted I should go to your trailer that day. I don’t know if this was on purpose or if you’re just dumb.”

“Look, I know nothing I say will make it all right again…” He looked at you as the rain started to pour.

“Good. It’s your time to be left in the rain.” You sighed. “I’m not okay to talk about this now.”

“I want to make this right again.” 

“Good luck, Munson.” You entered the van after Robin. “You will need it.”

He opened his mouth to speak as you closed the side door of the van.

And that’s how he stayed, looking at the van as the rain was falling.

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head? Pt. 5

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4**

Word count: 1893

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, mention of hospitals, mention and brief description of childbirth, mention of birth defects (CHD), mention of surgery/aftermath, no use of y/n, fem reader, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Ughhh, why isn’t he answering?” You shouted into the living room.

Now is not the time for you to be this busy Eddie!!!

You thought about it a little while longer, debating calling Eddie again or calling someone else. That was when you decided to call Wayne.

“Hello?” Wayne answered gruffly.

“Hey Wayne, are you uh, are you busy right now?” You asked.

“Hey darlin’ is everything okay?” He questioned.

“Yeah, well not actually, Eddie isn’t answering his phone and I ugh…I need to go to the hospital.” You rambled.

“Okay, you hang tight, I will be there soon! Keep calling Eddie okay?”

With that, Wayne hung up the phone and made his way to the truck, ignoring most traffic laws in hopes to get to you as soon as he, legally, can.

Eddie Munson if you do not pick up your phone I SWEAR TO ALL THINGS HOLY!!!

Shit, shit, shit!!! Is it time? I’m on my way!!!

The last seven years had been a whirlwind. Eddie had proposed to you six months after you heard him tell Wayne he was going to, that was 1986.

It was now 1993, and things were completely different than when you met Eddie. Since then, your parents had retired and started going on cruises, which is where they happened to be now. Wayne still worked at the factory but had cut back on his hours to help you and Eddie out.

Eddie got a job at a local body shop, he had stopped dealing drugs because it wasn’t safe anymore, given the expansion of your family. You had gone to school and were now working as a nurse, taking after your mom.

Your parents had surprised you and Eddie after you got married by buying you a house, they had sold theirs and bought a trailer, close to Wayne’s seeing as they were travelling so much. The house they bought you was modest, a one story, three-bedroom, two bathroom. It had a nice grassy yard that allowed you to host your friends should you choose. It also had a basement which was perfect for Eddie to transform into the ultimate DND room.

You had been pregnant at the wedding, not that either of you had been aware of that fact. You had found out about a month later and in the fall of 1987 your first child was born.

Eddie and you had two beautiful children, a son, Ronnie 6, and a daughter, Vivian 3. Both are named after members of Dio. You were hesitant at first, but after Eddie really got you into metal music (especially Dio) you caved.

Which leads you to now, spring 1993, you were currently in labor with your twins. Naturally Eddie wasn’t answering his phone, he hadn’t even wanted to get a mobile phone, but you had convinced him when you found out the potential risks of a multiples pregnancy. With your parents on a ship somewhere in the Mexican Riviera, you had no other choice but to call Wayne.

A knock on the door shook you out of your thoughts. You waddled your way over to the door, just as Wayne let himself in.

“Thank you for coming Wayne!” You huffed.

Eddie you had better be at the hospital for this birth!

“Of course, kiddo. Where are the rugrats?” Wayne asked.

“They’re with Steve and Nancy today.” You explained as you gathered your things.

I’m on my way! Please be okay!

“You got everything you need?” Wayne asked.

“Uh yeah…” looking around one last time, “I think that’s everything.” You nodded.

Wayne reached for your bag and led you out to his truck. He opened your door for you and helped you up into the truck, refusing to leave your side until you were settled and buckled in. He finally made his way around to the driver’s side and started your journey to the hospital.

“Any word from the boy yet?” Wayne questioned.

“Not via phone if that’s what you’re asking” you took a sharp breath in “I can hear him internally panicking though.” You huffed out a laugh, trying to control your breathing.

As Wayne wheeled you into the hospital, a horde of your coworkers made their way to you. They were congratulating you, helping you get checked in, ensuring you were okay and honestly it was becoming a bit overwhelming. All you wanted was for Eddie to be by your side and for these babies to exit your womb.

Where are you?

I’m here, I’m here. Please don’t have the babies without me!

An OB nurse and Wayne walked with you to your room, Wayne began setting your things up around the room while the nurse got your vitals and those of the babies. While she did this, you could hear shoes scuffing along the linoleum floors.

“I’m here!” Eddie hollered, out of breath.

“Glad you could make it.” You bit. “Sorry, it’s the contractions talking.”

“It’s okay baby!” Eddie leaned over and kissed your forehead.

He walked over to assist Wayne in setting up the rest of your things. The two of you had made a list and were sure to pack all the things you wished you had during the last two births.

“I um, I got everything I need here. I’m just going to go get your doctor and I will be right back.” The nurse expressed wearily before making her exit.

She clearly didn’t read the chart and is concerned about Toni’s CHD.

Eddie let out a slight chuckle which caused Wayne to shoot him a questioning glance. Wayne let Eddie know he was going to go get a coffee and that he’d be in the waiting room. He also informed you guys that he would call your parents and your friends to inform them you were in labor.

“Hey you two! You ready to have these babies?” Your doctor asked as she entered your room.

“Hey Dr. Evans, and yes I am so ready for these two to be out of me!” You sighed.

“Well good, because by the looks of it, you shouldn’t have to wait too much longer.” Dr. Evans explained. “Also, I am sorry about the nurse earlier, she’s new, she doesn’t know you work here, or that you guys are more than aware of Toni’s congenital heart disease.”

“It’s okay!” You released a shaky breath as another contraction rolled through you.

“Can you explain it all to me again? I know we’ve gone over it, I just, I want to hear it again.” Eddie pleaded.

“Of course, so Toni has a tiny hole in her heart wall, so once she is out, our pediatric surgeon will take her to the operating room and repair it! Once it is all fixed up, she will be in the NICU for a little while, just while she heals and then she will be all set to go home and grow up! She will have to have regular checkups, but she’ll lead a relatively normal life.” Dr. Evans explained.

A hole in her heart, Jesus. She’s not even born and already her life is hard.

“Eds, honey she’s going to be okay. This is sadly more common than you’d think.”

Eddie placed his hand on your shoulder, appreciating your support. You looked up at him as another contraction ripped through you. You took a few more deep breaths, glancing over to Dr. Evans. She checked you once more and informed you that it was time.

Everything happened seemingly all at once. First out was Ozzy, he was taken over to be cleaned up and measured, next was Toni who was almost immediately taken to her surgery. Dr. Evans stitched you up (birthing twins was no joke…neither was the tearing that occurred) and congratulated you both. She also let you know that someone would be by to keep you updated on Toni’s status.

Eddie was sitting in the recliner holding Ozzy while you rested. Steve and Nancy were on their way with your kids, excited to meet the new additions to your family. Robin and Dustin called to let you know they’d be by soon and they were bringing you some real food.

A nurse stopped in to let you know that Toni was still in surgery, but it was going well, when you heard tiny feet slapping against the floor, growing in volume.

“Mommy!” Ronnie yelled, running to your bedside.

“Hey bug.” You reached your hand down to brush his curls back out of his face.

“Sorry! He’s so fast!” Steve apologized.

Steve lifted Ronnie and placed him at the foot of your bed, all the while Nancy was walking in with Vivian, who was fast asleep in her arms. She smiled at you and wished you congratulations and when her gaze landed on Eddie, she couldn’t help but coo at the sleeping baby resting on his chest.

Robin and Dustin entered moments later with a pizza, some soda, and a few gift bags in hand.

“Hey! Any word on Toni yet?” Robin asked as she wrapped you in a hug then made her way to poke at Ronnie, who burst into a fit of giggles.

“Uh not yet, the nurse just let us know that her surgery was going well.” Eddie explained.

The night seemed to drag, the food and good company was a nice distraction from the fact that your daughter’s tiny heart was being worked on. You were thankful for your friends, especially that they’d all been so willing to hang around until you heard more.

“Hey there” Dr, Evans popped her head in your room “I just wanted to let you know that Toni is out of surgery, she did great and is on her way to the NICU now! I can take you both over there if you’d like to see her?”

You glanced at your friends who all nodded in unison, their way of silently telling you to go and that they could watch Ronnie and Vivian. You smiled at them and allowed Eddie to help you into a wheelchair. Dustin gently handed Ozzy back to you and then Dr. Evans escorted you to the NICU.

“So don’t be alarmed, she’s hooked up to a few machines, but it is just to monitor her heart function and her vitals.” Dr. Evans stated, more so for Eddie than you.

Eddie pushed your chair over to the incubator that currently housed your daughter. You looked in at her, she was so tiny, there was a small bandage placed on her chest. Looking over at Dr. Evans, she nodded signaling it was okay for you to open the side panel and hold your baby.

You reached your left hand in while cradling Ozzy in your right. Eddie made his way around to the other side and reached in to hold Toni’s other hand.

She’s so beautiful, they both are.

You’re so beautiful. Thank you for making me a dad, again.

A tear slipped down your cheek. You were so incredibly happy to have Eddie by your side and four beautiful children. You couldn’t wait to be by their sides as they found love the same way you had with Eddie.

This life was such a gift, and you were so grateful for all of it.

Thank you for bringing light into my life. Thank you for loving me.

Fin

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive @silky-luxe

[novacorpsrecruit]

Rain’s A Good Thing

WC 3,501 | GEN | CW: I’ve never chased a tornado, I don’t know how to drive manual

Read on Ao3

Hawkins, Indiana is a farm town.

Tommy Hagan’s family owned the largest feedlot in the county. Carol Perkins’ father was the leading corn producer in the state of Indiana. During the summer, Andy Hostetter and Chance Murillo worked harvest, and the McKinney family has a turkey farm.

And Steve?

Steve is the furthest thing from a country boy.

His father, Richard Harrington, is (ironically) one of the state’s leading divorce attorneys. His mother, Catherine, hated for Steve to get any sort of dirt on him. He was never allowed in sandboxes when she took him to the park. Never allowed to splash in puddles or play in the rain or roll in the grass.

Never allowed to get dirty.

Never allowed to be an Indiana country boy.

Until he met Eddie.

Eddie didn’t grow up on a farm, but he did spend the majority of his formative years in Forest Hills. When he stayed with Wayne as a child, he made mud pies and played with the trailer park dog. He played in the forest, following the creek deep into the woods and catching crawdads.

Eddie still goes fishing with Wayne. Not afraid to hold the catch of the day, posing for Wayne’s photo. Eddie loves driving on dirt roads, taking the back way to Indy, or just taking a late night cruise.

As much as Eddie denied, denied, denied, he was a country boy through and through.

And although Steve has spent his entire life in Hawkins … he was a city boy.

And Eddie keeps forgetting that.

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon. The third or fourth day in a row. Steve lost count. He hated rainy days. Especially storms. He felt trapped in his own home, but the last few days he spent at the trailer with Eddie felt special. The boys were both off from work and lazily tangled on the couch, watching ‘Used Cars’, questionably ‘borrowed’ from Family Video. Steve called it a perk of his job. Eddie knew Steve picked the movie solely because Eddie admitted that he used to have a crush on Kurt Russell (“Used to?” Steve laughed, “You still do!” “Do not!” “Do too!”), but there was something about the shitty cars driving through the mud of the dealership that had Eddie aching for a drive.

“We should go muddin’,” Eddie grinned, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before untangling his limbs. He climbed off the couch, taking a few steps into the kitchen to grab his keys off the counter.

“Go what-ing?” Steve said, sitting up.

“Muddin’,” Eddie said with a grin. It falters for a second. “Have you ever gone muddin’ before?”

“No,” Steve wrinkled his nose. “Like… playing in the mud?”

“Kinda,” Eddie shrugged. “It’s more driving around in the mud.”

“I’ve practically been muddling all week leaving the trailer park,” Steve said with a playful frown. “So what? We’re getting my car muddy on purpose?”

“Yeah, that’s the point,” Eddie said. “Besides, we’re not taking your car.” He flips his keys a few time for show. “We need to break this bad boy in.”

The bad boy in question was a 1972 Chevy Cheyenne, which is plenty of broken in. Eddie was able to buy it last month for a few hundred dollars. Eddie has been finding every excuse in the book to ‘break it in’ including taking it to the drive-in, stargazing, going for a late night cruise, a redneck swimming pool (Eddie’s words for the tarp in the bed of the truck and filling it with water), fooling around in the cab of the truck, fooling around in the bed of the truck, and now apparently mudding.

“C’mon,” Eddie whined like a child. “It’s hardly storming out there. I’ll take you out to the Dairy King afterwards. I’ll buy you a milkshake and curly fries.”

“Okay,” Steve sighed. “But were each getting our own milkshake.”

Eddie pumped his fist in the air. Steve couldn’t help but grin. “C’mon!” Eddie said, taking the few steps back to Steve and grabbing his arm, pulling him up. “We’re missing out on valuable mud time.”

“It’s supposed to rain all day,” Steve said, following Eddie to the truck. “There’s gonna be mud for the next few days.”

“Which means we’ll have to go again tomorrow,” Eddie grinned. “Plus it’s more sprinkling than anything. This is hardly anything. Here —“ Eddie handed Steve his mechanic’s work jacket, Eddie’s name stitched in red over the heart. “The finest robe for his majesty.”

Steve rolled his eyes, slipping on the jacket as Eddie ushered him out into the rain and into the Chevy. Eddie was right. The rain was light, nothing that made Steve concerned or worried. He just didn’t want to get his Nikes covered in mud. Eddie promised if they get dirty, he’d throw them in the washing machine with his Reeboks, but promised that they wouldn’t get out of the truck into the mud. Steve shoved his hands into the jacket pockets, feeling the cool metal of Eddie’s lighter against his finger tips. Eddie, the ever so gentleman, took three steps past Steve to the passenger door, yanking it open for Steve.

“Your chariot,” Eddie said with a bow. Steve couldn’t help but grin as he climbed into the truck, Eddie shutting the door behind him. Eddie started to jogged around the truck, jumping against the hood as if he was trying to slide over it to the other side. Steve couldn’t help but laugh, trying to figure out how anyone thought his goofy boyfriend was scary.

“You’re such a dork,” Steve said to Eddie as he climbed into the Chevy.

Eddie shot him a shit eating grin and revved the engine, “but I’m your dork. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Steve said.

Eddie pulled the truck into reverse, pulling away from the trailer home. Eddie fiddled with the music, going from station to station until he found one that was mostly music and less static. As he drove through the trailer park, the Chevy Cheyenne dug through the mud, leaving deep tracks behind. Eddie pulled onto the highway, driving out of town.

“I thought we were going mudding in the trailer park?” Steve asked.

“You gotta have open space to go muddin’,” Eddie explained. “I figured the fairgrounds, maybe some country roads. I promise, we will be safe. Nobody has ever died from muddin’.” There was a long pause. “Yet.”

“Eds,” Steve warned. Eddie smirked, reaching over to squeeze Steve’s thigh.

“I’m kidding!” Eddie said, squeezing again. “You know I’m a safe driver. I drove your Beemer before and you had no complaints!”

“Because I had a migraine,” Steve said. “And Robin still doesn’t have her license.”

“You would trust Robin over me?” Eddie gasped, jerking his hand away from Steve’s leg and bringing it over his heart. “Sweetheart, you wound me!”

Steve frowned, grabbing Eddie’s hand and placing it back over his thigh. Eddie grinned. “You’re so dramatic.”

“But you love it,” Eddie laughed, squeezing Steve’s thigh. “Right, baby?”

“Right,” Steve said, with a goofy smile. He kept his hand over Eddie’s as they drove a few miles out of town to the fair grounds.

The fairground parking was more dirt than anything. The annual Roane County Fair occurred the first week of July. Steve hasn’t found the energy to go, now that the Fourth of July was associated with being tortured by Russians. But maybe things would be different this year with Eddie holding his hand in secret.

The dirt parking was soaked with rain, mud piles and large puddles. Eddie looked over at Steve with the biggest grin. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Sure.”

Eddie revved the engine a few times before taking off, Steve jerking back in his seat with a laugh as Eddie drove into the first mud puddle he saw, splashing the windshield with mud. He ran the wipers, smearing the mud on his windshield, steering the car into more mud. The truck slowed in the mud, stuttering against the sludge as it powered through the mud, kicking back. The brakes slipped, the Chevy lurching forward. Steve jerked forward, slamming his hand on the dash to keep him stable.

Eddie let out a hoot of a laugh. He kept his hand on Steve’s thigh, squeezing gently any time he needed to move his hand to switch between first and second gears. He pushed on the gas, the truck accelerating to the next puddle, coating Steve’s window in mud. The shocks in the truck already made Steve feel every bump in the unpaved roads to Eddie’s trailer. The bumps and dips in the fairground seemed worse, jerking the truck up and down unevenly like a rollercoaster ride. Steve couldn’t help but laugh when he felt his ass leave the seat.

“Now you get me!” Eddie grinned, jerking the wheel to the side, finding more mud to dig up with the tires. The thick mud would get stuck in his tires, kicking up to the bed of the truck, even the back window was covered in mud. It was gonna be a bitch to clean, but that’s a problem for another day.

The Chevy slid in the mud, losing traction, sliding ever so slightly. Eddie squeezed Steve’s thigh, holding him down. “Eds —“ Steve braced himself against the door.

“I got it,” Eddie said, pumping on the brakes, regaining control of the truck. “Just a little slide action.”

Steve doesn’t know how long they were out in the fairgrounds. Long enough to get the truck coated in mud. There was no seeing out the back window and the side windows weren’t any better. Eddie was lucky enough that his windshield wipers were able to clean the front windshield enough that he could see the highway as they left. But instead of turning right to go back into town, he turned left.

“Hawkins is that way,” Steve frowned.

“I know,” Eddie said. “I got one more spot to show ya. There’s a road by Hagan’s feedlot that’s usually muddy.”

“God, the feedlot smells,” Steve groaned.

“And it’s gonna smell worse during the rain,” Eddie grinned. “Just hold your breath, it’s just past the feedlot.”

Sure enough, the feedlot reeked. Eddie turned down the dirt road just past the feedlot, driving about a mile down the road where the slightly wet dirt road turned muddy. The road was full of divots and potholes, bouncing the truck with every movement. The mud started to fly back up onto the windshield as the rain started to come down again.

Then, Steve noticed the hill.

The truck started to go up the large hill, stuttering in the mud. Steve swore the truck even slipped backwards a little, but Eddie didn’t flinch.

“Eds —“

“I got this,” Eddie said, pressing on the gas and shifted gears. The tires spun, kicking up more mud against the windows. The rain started to pour harder. Steve reached over his shoulder for the seat belt.

“Eddie —“ Steve said as his seat belt clicked. Eddie squeezed his thigh, letting go so he could grab his seat belt with one hand, pulling it over his shoulder and to his hip. Steve reached over and buckled it in for him. Eddie shot him a quick wink, returning his hand to Steve’s thigh.

“Ready?” Eddie asked. Steve wasn’t sure if there was a choice, now that they were at the top of the hill —

“Oh fuck —!”

The Chevy Cheyenne went over the hill — Steve swore they flew in the air for a brief moment, feeling his gut and his ass leave the seat — and then they went down.

The Chevy was going fast, Eddie’s foot off the gas as they made their way down the hill, kicking up mud and shaking in the truck. Thunder sounded around them. Rain poured. Eddie squeezed Steve’s thigh. Steve grabbed his arm, wrapping his own around him. The Chevy shook, mud landing on the windshield, quickly washed away as the rain grew heavier and heavier. Hail hit the windshield. The traction slipped, sliding ever so slightly, enough to make Steve’s gut drop.

“Eddie —!”

“I got it,” Eddie said, letting go of Steve’s leg and gripped the steering wheel. He pumped the breaks, attempting to slow the truck down. Eddie turned the wiper switch on high, watching them try to push the rain water and mud away from the windshield. The rain poured harder. The road evened out at the bottom of the hill. Eddie could barely see out of the windshield with how heavy the rain was. The truck shook with the winds.

Steve reached for the radio, moving the frequency from FM to AM. Crackling over the speakers came the weather report.

“This is the National Weather Service with an urgent weather report. Severe thunderstorm warning is issued for the following counties: Clay, Greene, Hendricks, Monroe, Morgan, Putnam, and Roane —“

“Just a thunderstorm,” Eddie said, his grip still so tight on the wheel that his knuckles were turning white. “It’ll pass. We’ll be okay once we get out of the rain.”

“Is there a paved road soon?” Steve asked, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. Eddie pressed his lips together. “Ed?”

“About three more miles,” Eddie said. “Or I can try to turn around and we take that hill again.”

Steve couldn’t look out the passenger window, the mud too thick on the glass. He could barely see the road in front of them, let alone how deep the ditches are or when the next cross road was.

“Let’s keep going —“

“A tornado watch has been issued for the following counties: Greene, Monroe, and Roane —“

“Eddie —“

“Got it,” Eddie clenched his jaw, pressing on the gas.

“What’s worse,” Steve asked. “A tornado watch or a warning?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie said. “We hardly get tornadoes. It’s not gonna happen —“

“A tornado warning has been issued for northwest Roane County —“

“Shit,” Eddie muttered.

“Eddie —“

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “That’s — that’s us.”

Steve nodded, clenching his jaw. He pulled on his seat belt, as if it would tighten more than it already was.

“It could be anywhere,” Eddie said raising his voice over the wind, holding the wheel tight, focused on keeping them on the road. “Hawkins is in the northwest part of the county. Doesn’t mean it’s touched ground. Just seen. Just —” Eddie shook his hand, barely above the wheel, frustrated. “Keep a look out.”

“I can’t see shit, Eds!” Steve shouted, winds whistling through the windows. The rain curtain made it near impossible to see out the front of the truck. “Pull over!”

“I can’t just — pull over, Steve!” Eddie snapped. “The ditches —“

“We should’ve stayed home!” Steve yelled.

“Trailer ain’t got shit against a tornado,” Eddie punched the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

The winds grew stronger. The truck shook, shocks bouncing like it did on the fairgrounds.

“Eds —“

“I know, Steve —“

“No, Eds —“

“I can’t just pull over —“

“Eddie!” Steve smacked Eddie’s chest, leaning over and pointed out the window. “Fucking stop!”

Eddie glanced out the window, watching a funnel cloud form, twisting in the air to the northeast. “Fuck!”

He slammed on the brakes, instantly regretting it as the truck started to swerve, threatening to spin as the rear wheels lock up. Eddie jerked the wheel, correcting his mistake and keeping the truck on the muddy road. Eddie pumped the brakes, feeling the truck slowly but surely come to a stop.

It felt surreal, in the midst of a storm. The whistling wind shaking the truck, the warm May temperature dropping ten degrees in a matter of moments. Rain and hail banging on the cab’s rooftop. No words exchanged from the boys, just heavy breaths and heartbeats. It wasn’t until the NOAA weather alert repeated for the third time since they stopped, that Eddie realized Steve’s hand was pressed against his chest.

Even then, they couldn’t take their eyes off the funnel cloud, getting bigger by the moment. Winds getting stronger and stronger until —

The tornado touched the ground.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Eddie nodded. “Holy fucking shit is right.”

It didn’t seem like they could do anything but watch.

Eddie wished they would’ve stayed home.

“Eds. Eddie,” Steve said, leaning forward in his seat. “It’s — it’s moving.”

Hell.

Sure enough, the tornado changed courses, no longer heading their direction, but parallel to the highway only a half-mile away. The rain started to lift. The hail stopped.

Eddie let out a laugh.

He reached out, grabbing Steve’s shoulder and shaking it. “God, Steve. I — I think I pissed myself.”

Steve laughed, leaning over and catching Eddie’s lips with his own. “Holy fucking shit.”

“Holy fucking shit is right,” Eddie said, smacking the steering wheel a few times. “Okay,” Eddie laughed, putting the truck into first. “Look, I know it was a mess, but if we go back over the hill —“

“What if we didn’t.”

Eddie raised his eyebrow, looking at Steve. “Then we’re following the storm. Storm’s past, I’ll go slow —“

“What if,” Steve said, a little stronger, slower. His eyes shining with something Eddie’s still not quite sure about. “What if we chased it.”

Eddie laughed in disbelief. “Chased it,” he said. “The tornado?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, a small smirk on his face. “Or are you too scared?”

Eddie’s face broke out into a shit eating grin. He leaned over the center seat, pressing a kiss against Steve’s lips. He leaned back, smacking Steve’s chest a few times, “That’s my country boy! Let’s fucking go!”

Eddie leaned back into his seat, pressing on the gas. Steve let out a laugh, as Eddie switched to second gear. Soon, they ran out of the dirt road, hitting the pavement. Eddie turned right, catching the rain. The tornado was now in full sight through the muddy windshield, maybe two miles out in the country. It wasn’t a large tornado, even close by, Eddie felt like he had decent control over the truck with the wind speeds. Nothing like they experienced minutes before.

They watched as the tornado tore up the pasture.

“You think —“ Steve said, stopping as if he was questioning himself. He looked at Eddie, a curious look on his face. “You think we could get closer?”

“Can we get — yes,” Eddie shot Steve an award winning grin. “Get ready, we’re going off roading.”

“Off-roading? Eds—!” Steve braced himself against the dash as Eddie drove off the road, into the ditch and into the pasture. He drove at an angle, trying to get closure to the tornado, while trying to keep up with it. Steve laughed as the Chevy shook, hitting uneven dirt and mud. Eddie pressed on the gas, shifting gears, speeding up.

The wind grew stronger as they grew closer to the tornado. Blowing pieces of wheat and hay around them. It was one thing seeing the tornado miles away, but up close? It was terrifying and beautiful at the same time. The way the wind controlled and destroyed the land. Dirt clouds at the bottom, the rain clouds following the top. Steve’s seen pictures of damages from tornadoes. Towns leveled by only a few minutes of a tornado. Lives changed in a matter of moments.

And they were following the danger, no way to stop it. No way to prevent the destruction.

That is, until the tornado slowed. They started to catch up on it. Eddie lowered gears, slowing down. Eddie knew. Steve was just figuring it out.

This was the end of the tornado.

Soon, the dirt settled below. The storm clouds above remained, but the rain lightened to a sprinkle. The tornado became smaller and smaller, thinner and thinner until it no longer touched the ground. Then, it practically faded into air, settling down for good and clearing the air.

“Damn,” Eddie said, putting the truck into park in the middle of the pasture. “Fun while it lasted.”

“Really fun,” Steve grinned. “We going storm chasing again tomorrow?”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie laughed. “Hates the rain, he says! Spends all day locked indoors. We have awaken the real storm here.”

“Guess you could say rain’s a good thing,” Steve grinned. Eddie leaned over the middle seat, catching Steve’s lips with his own. “I think you owe me a milkshake.”

Eddie leaned back into his seat, rocking the truck as he does. “The storm requires a milkshake! To the King, we go!”

Eddie revved the engine, putting it into first gear and pressing on the gas. The Chevy Cheyenne stays true to its country boys, kicking up dirt as it jerks into motion, working its way through the pasture and back onto the pavement. Steve looked over at Eddie, grinning and humming to the radio now that the frequency was off the weather and back on FM. Eddie looked over at Steve, grinning. He placed his hand back on Steve’s thigh, squeezing. Steve put his hand over Eddie’s, running his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles.

Sure. Steve might be afraid of storms, but with Eddie by his side? He could face a fucking tornado.

[ns-imagines]

What they drive

141 Guys x domestic/everyday life

SFW | Word Count: 1.4k | Headcannons

**Long post with lots of pictures!

A/N: I dunno much about cars but I always wonder what the boys would be driving. See what they’re picking me up in for date night… this is just for fun and highlights the modern life they have outside of missions. Also the gif of Soap falling on the car took me out lmao. Not requested. -Kiv

John Price

A man who takes pride in his vehicles. He has two Chevy trucks. A nice truck for everyday use and a project truck. The perfect person to talk to if you are thinking of purchasing a car or truck. Price has got the “dealership scam” game down. You'll be leaving the lot with a good deal.

The project car being a 1985 Chevy C10. Price is always going on about how “this is every man's dream car to work on”. He says it everytime he opens the garage. Without fail! It's got a classic blue color with a few rust spots but, nothing a good layer of paint can't fix. Its the 90s car from the movies. Nothing else to say about it!

Ahh the project car. Price works on it when he can. Set up a lawn chair, get a glass of lemonade, and just watch that man work. Sometimes hell even explain to you what he’s doing. That is if you can even pay attention. There’s something so attractive about a man talking about what he’s passionate about all sweaty with a nice pump. HEY, wipe that drool off your face.

Price’s personal truck is nice. It gets him from point A to B. Everything on it is stock. He’ll always tell you hes gonna sell it once his project car has been fixed. But there’s still quite a lot to do on the project car. Its a 2012 Chevy Silverado in cherry black with a covered bed. Good on gas and can pull a trailer or boat! He doesn’t invest money in it for other than maintenance costs.

It smells specifically like “Lakeside Morning” from Bath and Body works car scents. The packaging is what got him. It was honestly super cute when he read the package out loud. “Smells like: Cool, Sweet, Fresh, and alone time on the dock” followed by a shrug and him throwing it into his cart. Does he even fish?

Oh, whenever he turns a corner in the Silverado theres a thud coming from the bed. Its a cooler that has been there FOREVER. He swears he’s going to take it out. Price brought it when 141 met for a cook out and some beers a few months ago.

-

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Don’t ask about the APR please. Kyle is going to use this bad girl till it breaks. Its his dream car. Price took him away from base to get a better rate for it! Its fast its speedy its a 2015 Ford Shelby GT350. Oh yeah racing stripes and all. He got it wrapped in a matte ocean blue. Im talking leather seats, tinted windows, and custom wheel.

Kyle loves this car and will always offer to pick you up. Ur always going to be passenger princess. Kyle always drives up reallll slow, rev the engine a little, and rolls down the window to smile big at you. He gets the door for you when you are both approaching the car. Don’t test him. He will literally sprint to get the door for you. An actual cutiepie

Hes so damn cute when it comes to long drives. Hand on your thigh and singing to the music together. Expect spontaneous trips!! He doesn’t even know where you guys are headed today.

Loves to speed up when there no cars in front of him. That feeling of the car pushing into you the sear is his favorite. Kyle is definitely the type to lightly bang on the steering wheel and go “Wooooooo” when returning to the normal speed limit. Hehe. Hope it didn’t freak you out too much. You will without a doubt get a few reassuring thigh squeezes.

Classic Black Ice scent. Cant go wrong with it! Its his car’s signature sent if you ask him. Kyle keeps his car clean. Theres a few half empty water bottles in the back but never straight up trash. He makes sure to buy the premium wipes for the interior. Like I said that car is his baby. Ugh did i mention the sound system?! Its absolutely amazing. You can feel the bass in your bones. Literally sounds like you’re in an air pod pro.

-

John “Soap” Mactavish

His car is the hangout car. Like if were going out with boys were taking Soaps car. He drives a pearl colored 2020 Honda Accord. He ordered the under the seat lights and everything. Its actually a vibe in there. The music changes the lights or he has an app on his phone to change the color. Another amazing sound system tbh.

Similar to Gaz the glovebox in the car is yours. He even puts stuff in there for you as a surprise :,). Sweet baby Johnny. Like one time you got in the car like usual and opened the glovebox to grab chapstick or some perfume/cologne and sitting on the car instruction manual was a bag/box of ur favorite snack. When you looked back over, Johnny was looking back at you with a big derpy smile.

Since his car is the hangout car it can get messy pretty easily. He has to do “trash runs” to empty the random things people leave in his car. Dont get it wrong, It isnt nasty with random food left behind!! Soap has tried those like little trash cans on Amazon but they always end up lost under the back seats.

Johnny always goes with New Car Smell. He doesn’t have a specific brand he likes he just gets whatever’s at the gas station at the time. He also has the bad habit of never locking his car. Soap swears he always forgets to but you think its just a habit at this point.

CEO of spontaneous trips. You would never believe how much camping stuff his car can hold. Soap will give him car encouraging words as it struggles to go up the hills to the hike or camping site. He always keeps an emergency box under the passenger seat. Its shaped like tackle box. It has a first aid kit, some portable batteries with chargers, flares, and an emergency flash light. Last time you both went camping he was so excited to show you the random hatchet he bought. He keeps it in the trunk for no reason. I mean, he cant have it in the barracks so you suppose it makes sense.

-

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon currently owns two bikes. Hes in the process of selling his old one. Which is a chameleon purple painted 2006 Suzuki GSXR600 with 750 cc. It gave him a good year and half off rides. He took care of it and rode it to its top speeds. It has a scuff on the side from when he tried to do a wheelie but, he was going to slow and had to jump off before it fell to its side. Your heart sunk when it happened. Ghost was super embarrassed because he thought he had it down. He’ll never tell you though.

After a long deployment where he was getting quite a big of hazard pay (extra pay when you’re in a dangerous location) he saved it all up. As soon as he got back he bought a black 2021 Honda Rebel 1100 DCT. This bike is fast but it’s more for cursing. Trust that he’ll ride it to its max speed at least once for the adrenaline rush.

Bought you a matching jacket. He wont say anything about it being matching but you noticed almost after putting it on. Best part about riding is when you get to wrap your arms around his waist. Simon always makes sure to take it slow especially if you get nervous on bikes. Don’t even try to do your hair. He wont move the bike unless you have the right gear on. Ghost doesn’t wanna lose you from an accident.

You are probably wondering what he does when it rains… or maybe you already knew he chooses to ride anyway. I promise though that after a ride in the rain he will slightly complain about how wet the road was. It makes you worry because so much could happen with one slip. Simon will always reassure you that he’s an experienced rider. If you pick him up in your car he won’t be upset. Definitely wont say no to a free and dry ride!

[rvllybllply2014]

Pulling from my life again*. Modern au.

Aeron is a rich kid who was able to take flying lessons and has a personal plane that he can fly. Davos is also a rich kid but he chose to do truck driving to be able to travel Westeros.

Anyway Davos is back in Raventree hall when he hears Willem complain about Aeron and his pilot’s license. How dare mere horse breeders think they’re better than the Blackwoods. It doesn’t matter that Aerons license is for his personal use and that his plane is an old two seater. Willem demands that Davos go to the same school as Aeron and get his license. Davos doesn’t argue because he makes enough on top of his inheritance that he would be able to buy his own small plane.

Anyway the day Davos goes to sign up for classes Aeron is there talking to his old instructor, and of course Davos has start an argument about how Aeron is a terrible pilot. But before Aeron can reply the instructor tells Davos that Aeron is one of the best, a natural at flying and that he should fly with Aeron. Davos agrees to fly with Aeron if only so he can argue with Aeron privately.

Once in the air Aeron tries to break the awkward silence by asking Davos about his trucking job. Davos explains it’s to get him away from Willem and to break the boring day to day of doing nothing with in the company. Plus he gets paid to travel so he doesn’t have an issue with it. Aeron says that must be nice, he genuinely means it too which Davos realizes when he goes to argue with Aeron but sees a gentle contemplative look on his face.

Davos asks if he can fly the plane, Aeron says yes but Davos has to teach Aeron something about trucking in return. Davos tells him he’ll show Aeron how to slide tandems on the trailer. So Aeron tells Davos to watch the dial that has a blue part on the bottom, brown in the middle and yellow on top. It’s the horizon gauge, he wants to keep the dial even so he won’t go too far up or down. Aeron tells Davos he’s a natural at this after keeping the plane even for several minutes.

A few weeks pass before Aeron and Davos can meet up at Davos’s truck. Davos tells Aeron the trailer is empty and that this is just a demo on to slide tandems. It’s easy enough, all Aeron has to do is leave the truck in neutral, Davos will push in the lever that’s on the trailer. Once Davos does that, he gets back in the truck and tells Aeron to push in the trailer break (the yellow push in button) once he does that put the truck in drive and push the gas pedal in slowly. As the truck shakes Davos tells Aeron he’s doing good, the shaking means the tires/tandems on the trailer are sliding forward. Davos repeats the same steps but this time tells Aeron to reverse so the tandems/tire will slide back. After the mini lesson Davos tells Aeron he did a good job.

Aeron doesn’t want to argue, he feels like he did a shit job, so he changes the subject by asking Davos out. Davos tells Aeron the only way he’ll go out with him is, after he gets his pilot license and afterwards Aeron goes on a trucking trip with him. Aeron tells him sure he’ll go on a trucking trip with Davos, as long as Davos goes on a flight with Aeron.

That’s how Davos gets his pilot license and goes flying with Aeron every time they’re back in the riverlands. It’s also how Aeron experiences freedom from Amos, by being on the road with Davos. It’s also how both Willem and Amos settle their differences, if their nephews can fall in love then maybe the other house isn’t so bad.

Amos and Willem eventually date too, much to the horror of Aeron and Davos.

*at my old job I made friends with an older man who had a personal pilots license and had his own glider plane. His friend also had a private pilot license and a 1940s plane which is what I based Aerons plane off. Both let me fly the plane for 20 minutes (full control of it)

The truck stuff is based on what I learned from being on the road with my boyfriend. But I have driven the truck without the trailer on an actual highway, slid tandems for him every time, and drove a truck with trailer in a parking lot.

[trivialbob]

The books have closed on another season of camping.

Yesterday, while Sheila worked, I went to our Wisconsin site to winterize the trailer and side-by-side vehicle. Leaving them there is nice. Not towing them home is awesome and saves me $ on gas.

Though it saddens me when the camping season ends, I find satisfaction in the winterization process. I cleaned and organized things. The Dyson even had to be recharged. Does that make me sound like a bad housekeeper?

I packed stuff to bring home that I don't want to freeze, such as aerosol bottles of sunscreen and cooking spray. Later I used my air compressor to clear the water lines. After that I added RV anti-freeze to drains. Sheila and I made checklists to help me remember what to bring home and leave there.

This morning I finished my tasks. The final step was to re-fill one of the propane tanks. I drove to town to meet my propane guy.

Disclosure: I don't actually have "a guy" for propane. It feels like it though. The gas station owner seems to enjoy talking to (or just humors) me as he fills the tank and I ask questions about the propane business.

I will never, ever buy propane anywhere besides his store.

Here are some pictures from the weekend. The bar and restaurant our friends own has more UTVs/ATVs in the parking lot than trucks and cars. Actually there were zero cars in the parking lot, only trucks. Like any good, rural Wisconsin tavern, there is a sign for a gun raffle and a hunting rifle on the wall.

I saw cows all over as I rode the side-by-side around the area. Farmers were harvesting crops too, but I didn't get a picture of them.

This morning I left for home. Well, our Minnesota home. Initially I drove slowly, as there were a good number of Amish buggies on the road. The Amish always wave and so do I. They appeared to be on their way to church.

It was cold as I left Wisconsin. The feeling when the heater finally has heat, oh I love that. Not that I was shivering, but when warm air starts coming out of the floor vents it's like winning the lottery.

Okay, it not as good as becoming a multimillionaire, but more like matching enough numbers to win $4. Still a nice feeling though.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 17 thoughts

this episode took a few days to work... and it built up the suspense! i tried to watch it on thursday- i was ready for my scullynmulder time- but it wouldn't play. and then i finally had time to try again yesterday, and it STILL wouldn't work.

(i had to go on reddit and learned that i needed to change a single number in a random string of code, because apparently a new firefox update just killed any ability to use hulu? the hoops i jump through for these two...)

but, i really enjoyed this episode! it had cute lil moments and then also some soul-crushing angst, which is the way i like it. so allow me to begin, and all of my note taking shall begin below!

YAYYYYY it’s scullynmulder time… my heart is so happy

so we open in a grocery store in virginia. it’s a nice looking grocery store. would browse there.

a guy is buying like a billion cans of stuff that has a muscle on it. and then a magazine with the freaky worm baby from s2 on it! haha a nice callback! again. shoutout to the props team <3

but then, the scene of tranquil grocery shopping was interrupted, as the guy with all the cans grabs the jacket of the guy in front of him- and it turns out the whole thing was a sting operation!!! guy who wanted his cans is referred to as “pusher”. the FBI has a TON of guys dealing with him. 5 cars full. wow! he must be very scary.

he’s in the back of the last car. and going on about this officer’s uniform color. 

he keeps saying cerulean over and over until somehow the guy driving the car stops seeing the big tractor trailer coming his way. and so when he drives straight ahead, he is immediately hit!!! is this some sort of hypnosis?

the intro was different again!! who do they think they are fooling by changing this?? not me!

mulder's office time. side note: it really is THEIR office as a collective. because we never see her at her desk. but anyway.

the police car’s driver died after hitting the tractor trailer that was magically invisible to him, but not before he unlocked the prisoner, pusher. pusher had confessed to contracted killings over two years that had been staged to look not like murders, if you catch my drift.

why would this otherwise great agent unlock this prisoner and also drive straight into a tractor trailer? a great question! one we can hopefully answer.

pusher had kept mumbling about cerulean until the driver ran into a truck for a business called cerulean. then he had written a clue at the scene of the crime! it says “nin or” which mulder flips backwards to read… ronin. ronin! i know that word!

mulder points out that this means a samurai without a master (nerd), and that this is the name of a… self defense magazine? so off to go read some magazines!

a young woman who we later learned is named holly brings them a big stack of the aforementioned magazines- maybe she's an archivist! maybe that should be my job!

she has a giant bruise on her face from getting mugged. mulder asks if they got whoever did this to her, and she says “do they ever? ….no offense” awww, holly, you're gonna make him sad. but seriously, poor girl, that is awful :(

she heads out, and scully is like, how did pusher do all of these killings? mulder says that he was probably utilizing the power of suggestion 

so they find an advertisement for someone “who solves problems” in all of the ronin magazines since 1994- which was when the murders started! a clue! with a phone number to go with it!

and in the ad were the letters OSU, which they thought meant ohio state but no! it’s a japanese word that means “to push”! gasp! it's definitely their guy!

(there was very conveniently a japanese to english dictionary on the shelf of the room where they were reading the magazines. i guess it's important to keep your language learning tools around in the FBI, but it was funny because all the other books looked like boring legal stuff)

they call the number, and it goes to a phone in virginia. mulder is in a car nearby and scully is there too, but she is sleeping. ON HIS SHOULDER!!!!

he lightly taps her face to wake her up and says “i think you drooled on me” and she quickly apologizes... NOOO DON’T BE MEAN TO HER!!! SHE’S SLEEPY 😭😭😭 awwwwww oh my HEART <3

(i need to scream real quick, because that was so precious. AHHHHHHHHHhhhhhHHHH)

((nah i'm never gonna move on from this actually. never never. the way he tapped her face.......... how she seemed so embarrassed.... the intimacy of falling asleep on someone's shoulder, how long he must have sat there trying not to make any sudden movements while still keeping his attention on the case........... i need to collect myself))

but then the phone rings back!!! they sprint sprint sprint and they pick it up… to someone asking if they are just going to sit there all night!!!! the pusher!!!

oh he’s creepy… he comments on how mulder “and his pretty partner seem awfully close”. now, is he invested in whatever the hell it is they have going on like i am (which is valid), or is he just a creep (less valid)? 

pusher seems to be a freak at least in some regards, saying that "they have to follow his breadcrumbs", and that the next one is right in front of mulder, who he keeps calling “g man”. he also says to let his fingers do the walking, which makes slim to no sense to me. 

but they figure that it means to call the last number on the pay phone, and it reaches a golf course! they hold the phone up so they both can hear the message and it’s so CUTE AWWW

mulder calls her “g-woman” as they leave <- STOP I’M GONNA SCREAM!!!

off to the golf course. where pusher is golfing with a very beat up face from the accident. he spots snipers hiding in the grass, mumbles that it is “about time”, and tries to get out. 

they have him cornered!!! but when he tells the dude with the gun on him to relax, he really does. and when pusher tells him to show him his face, he does. he knows the guy by name?!?

pusher tells this collins fellow to pour a ton of gasoline, which he does while crying. collins screams at the agents to stop him as he flicks on a lighter, but scully is fast and grabs a fire extinguisher, and mulder uses his jacket to induce a sort of stop drop and roll maneuver. huh, they really do work so well together!

a car horn is blaring, so mulder goes to see what is going on and it’s… a dude with his head on the horn. he says “bet you five bucks i get off”… it’s pusher! he was mumbling as if he was remotely controlling the dude who lit the flame... okay, weird.

mulder at da court. he is fidgeting as they question him about this pusher fellow and his 14 murders. mulder explains that he thinks pusher can talk his way into his victims hurting themselves, which is by far not the most outlandish thing we’ve heard on this television program, but the people in the court act like this is akin to spotting a unicorn, and scoff at mulder for proposing such a bizarre idea.

(usually i agree that mulder's ideas are bizarre, but this one seems entirely possible to me, with or without mind control. people can be talked into doing all sorts of things. mulder i am on your side and would not laugh at you like these fakes)

AND pusher had called and confessed to 14 murders, but his defense tries to write it off as a drunk prank call. while this is the most absurd thing we (both the viewer and the characters in court) have ever heard, and surely no one would ever believe it, pusher uses his mind power skills to get into the judge’s brain and make him be declared innocent.

pusher walks up to mulder and says he owes him five dollars. this dude majorly sucks.

cutscene to mulder practicing his aim. it’s pretty good!! he must be really unsettled by this whole situation to work on his marksmanship.

scully comes in (with the ear protection things on so mulder's firing doesn't blast her ears <3 queen of precautions) with more information on this pusher fellow. mulder starts reciting all the things he can guess about the pusher’s life, from his college to his military service to which branch and i'm thinking man, did he study up on this? is he that unsettled by this case? but ohhh yeah, mulder does profiling, seemingly very successfully.

but he didn’t know that the pusher applied to the FBI!!! and had flopped at the psych evaluation, where he had been ego-centric and lied and claimed to be trained by ninjas. mulder seems to think this could be true, but i don’t know if he knows the ninja lore and that they were not as historically common as media would make you think 💔

luckily, scully doesn't break this terrible news to him. man, this reminds me i need to get a good translation of the kojiki and the nihon shoki

(at this point i did a bit of a wikipedia rabbit hole into japanese medieval literature before remembering the plot at hand. focus!)

mulder says that they should have had enough evidence to at least get him in custody, and that the pusher “put the whammy” on the judge. to which scully deadpans “please explain to me the scientific nature of the whammy” <- HDHEJSNWJSKDMND i love her sooooo terribly. 

mulder is still thinking this guy was a ninja, but scully points out that if he could control people’s minds, why wouldn’t he be an FBI agent like he wanted? a very good point! well, maybe it’s a new skill, mulder posits.

he seems very frustrated that scully isn’t buying his mind control theory, but she makes it very clear she believes he is guilty of murder!!! they just need to figure out what went down. queen of communicating her logic. she won’t communicate her feelings though, but that's okay we can work on that in the future.

pusher at da FBI. writes himself a note that says “pass” and sticks it in his lapel, goes in and asks for computer records. the guard immediately gives it to him. and he waltzes in! 

no!! the poor girl with the bruised face from before, holly!!! he starts talking to her, and she gives him the keyboard to her super secret FBI computer. he asks for printouts and says he wants to hurt whoever did that to her face. hmm. well, maybe a little revenge on her behalf wouldn’t hurt...

but skinner is here! he heard an unfamiliar voice and walks in, asking if he can help this strange fellow. skinner realizes that he is up to no good, and grabs him, but the pusher convinces holly that skinner is the guy who mugged her!!! so she busts out her mace the minute that skinner manages to call for security and starts KICKING HIM??

things escalated very quickly there.

holly is in his office, apologizing profusely to skinner and whole bunch of other people for kicking the hell out of his face. scully is there too. okayyyyy, she’s moving up in the world, helping out when skinner gets attacked!!!! she is very calm about the whole thing though, which makes her a great choice, so she deserves it.

holly says that it was like the pusher was in her head, and she was watching herself do the things she did. creepy...

she’s crying, and skinner doesn’t honestly seem too mad about the whole thing. i would be very mad if one of my employees let a random guy have access to secret files and then pepper sprayed and kicked me, but clearly he understands something was afoot.

OH! scully agrees that it is the pusher’s persuasive powers that made holly attack him, even if she can’t explain why it is he can do that! wow! the evidence is undeniable, even if it is inexplicable!

the pusher left with mulder’s file… so now he knows where he lives. so they should have a sleepover at her place!!! and watch movies!!! <3 before they catch him ofc, because now that he was trespassing, they have him on hook for a crime

(sadly, i must report that no sleepover took place. but it would be nice to imagine that it did)

they go to the pusher's apartment to try and find him, and scully announces before she turns the lights on. okayyyy! giving everyone a warning.

something about her with a trench coat and a gun in investigation mode makes my stomach do flips. we don't have to unpack that right now. i just was very aware that it happened.

he left a movie on the tv, that scully immediately identified as svengali. hold on let me google something. okay, that is a book/movie about guy that uses mind control. fitting. a clue, perhaps…

and is she watching horror films on the regular to be able to identify the film after seeing like three frames….? love that for her <3

(wait, she did say before that the exorcist was one of her favorite movies! so this further proves that she is going to be seated for a spooky film <3)

mulder opens his fridge to find a million and a half of those protein cans from before. you think those are giving him psychic powers? hmm…

oh!!! scully found something in his cabinet: epilepsy medication!!! a clue, perhaps? i’m just gonna keep saying that about anything they find. so that means they know more about him, and that he will need medication, which could be a way to try and find him, because he’ll need to get more at some point probably… AND HE STARTED TAKING THE PILLS AT THE SAME TIME THE MURDERS STARTED!

mulder asks what can cause epilepsy late in life. her answers: head injury, neurological disease, a tumor…

mulder perks up because he thinks a tumor might give you psychic powers. which would be a bright side to an otherwise very dismal situation, i’m sure. 

she says that if he had a brain tumor, he would not be well enough to do all of these shenanigans- a very valid point. mulder responds with: maybe he isn’t well at all!! he was too tired to escape at the driving range, after all, and he had confessed to murders he had gotten away with… maybe he wants to go out in a blaze of glory!

huh. bold theory.

phone rings as this theory is proposed. and the pusher is in fact on the phone. he asks for mulder and scully, who are sitting next to each other on a bed with their heads close, listening in. it’s endearing. 

anyway, the pusher is going on and on with the dude on the phone named frank, saying he looks super unhealthy, and i get that they are trying to trace the call, but they also should know by now to not listen to a damn thing he says because of the mind control. but again, he could be offering a clue, so someone has to listen. agh! such a conundrum.

mulder says to hang up the phone, right as the pusher talks frank into having some sort of medical condition where his blood thickens (gag. gag gag gag bleurghhhh). mulder and scully are trying to get him to hang up the phone but he won’t, he keeps listening so they can get a trace on the call!! and then frank is dead.

scully’s trying to save his life, but mulder picks up the phone. the pusher says that he wants a real adversary, and he’s read up on mulder, who he deems worthy. okay just ignore scully at your own peril i guess...

scully realizes she can’t save frank :( and mulder is mad because he killed this dude for nothing!! but he says no no, all these people die by themselves. 

they trace him to near a hospital, where he must be getting regular treatment for his condition. they find his car outside. and he’s scheduled for an MRI.

mulder says he should go in by himself, so that no one else gets hurt. a bold choice...

he gets all suited up with a camera and some fancy equipment to go in, then he gives scully his gun, so he won’t shoot anyone even if the pusher uses his mind games on him. and then they hold hands for a second. and look into each other’s eyes. and i will sob like a baby. 

mulder is going into the hospital. scully is watching all of this from his fancy camera. the og live stream. 

we hear two shots fired; the pusher made the guard shoot the technician and then himself. scully sees the monitor and asks mulder to get closer. and he does indeed have a tumor…. and is dying, so he has nothing to lose. which makes him even scarier!

scully is begging him to get out of there. but he turns and scully sees from the camera the pusher holding him at gun point!!! she yells “god!” and then runs into action. oh you know it’s serious when the catholic is yelling the name of the lord as an exclamation….

scully putting on a bullet proof vest to go in there and save him😳oh wow… i am learning so much about myself

she goes in, tells the SWAT team to wait for a signal. everything is very very very tense as she makes her way into the hospital. so slowly. she finally comes to the right door, and pushes it open.

mulder is seated with the pusher in the room of a patient, while the two stare at each other. they’re both very sweaty, and pusher has a gun in his hand. the pusher is going on about martial arts and a fight to the death and stuff. he gives mulder the gun and says to pull the trigger, one pull with a one in six chance to kill him.

scully is suspicious because they are, again, in a hospital, which has pure oxygen, and who knows what could happen if he pulls the trigger? but despite her very logical warning, he does pull the trigger, right away, and nothing happens. 

but the pusher talks mulder into putting the gun against his own head. she is begging him not to do it, to listen to her, to get out of there together, and everything will be okay.

and despite scully’s best efforts, he DOES pull the trigger. no bullet this time, but she is FREAKING OUT that he did that. she yells, and that yell will probably haunt me forever, how furious and terrified she sounded to watch him do such a horrific thing.

and then he turns the gun on HER, she’s crying, telling him to fight this. terrified she's about to die at his hands.

(oh my gosh, i really hope he’s faking the mind control working on him, so he can turn the gun on the pusher at the last minute)

the pusher mentions that SHE SHOT HIM, he read it in his files, “PAYBACK TIME, SHOOT THE LITTLE SPY” <- OMFG???? this escalated SOSOSOSOSO fast????

he tells scully to RUN while he still has the gun pointed at her, but then once she gets out and pulls the fire alarm, mulder shoots him!!!!! he keeps clicking the gun over and over at him despite it being empty. and he looks so tired, handing the gun over to scully, holding his head in his hands. 

man, he must have been horrified, to have someone in his mind, making him try to hurt himself and hurt scully, watching her scream at him after he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger, watching her cry as the gun was pointed at her, fighting for access to his own mind... and after he had left his gun with her, just to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone, he found himself in this situation...... how he kept firing even after the single bullet had been shot, just to ensure that no one else would be hurt..... woah. there is a lot to unpack here about the lack of agency and losing loved ones and mulder's deepest fears.... i will be gnawing on this in my head for a while...

so, the pusher is on a ventilation system, and mulder is watching. scully enters and says he will never regain consciousness. apparently, he had been refusing treatment, refused to have the tumor removed even though it was possible. mulder says that it’s like she had proposed, he was a little man, and this finally made him feel big.

they linger long enough for me to wonder if they’re actually going to kiss, right in front of this comatose murderer, but she does something just as intimate: grabs his hand and says to not let this dude take up another minute of their time. we end with mulder taking one last look and leaving the room.

oh, this episode was GOOD. REALLY GOOD. the suspense was killer, the mind games were trippy, and these two. these two.

scully falling asleep on his shoulder? the fluff of an indulgent fanfic writer. but it REALLY HAPPENED. them holding their heads close multiple times to listen to the phone... the hand grab at the end. listening and trusting each other's wild theories.

this episode showed how well they work as a team, and it made me so happy. it felt in very sharp contrast to a few episodes before where they were not working together at all. and i get that was cosmic opposite day, but still, this episode and their dynamic felt so right.

and then at the end, the level of angst was unexpected. and honestly, they go through a LOT on this show, but scully seeing him held at gunpoint and then watching him pull the trigger on his own head made me lose my MIND. how she begged him to stop, pleaded and yelled, how she cried as he pointed the gun on her, him using every ounce of energy he had to try and resist mind control to keep her safe. and the minute she is away, he unloads the gun into the pusher, again and again and again despite knowing it was empty, just to be sure no other bullets could hurt anyone else. how exhausted he was when he sat down at the end, his head in his hands; how he watched him in his comatose state until scully told him they should leave.

(insert prolonged muffled screaming as a way to comprehend the feelings i am experiencing)

and a massive shoutout to skinner for showing up for 5 minutes, realizing there was a problem, addressing the problem, and not being too mad when the girl in the computer department beat his ass because he was sympathetic to her mind control quandary. really a solid fellow. skinner, you and i have had our disagreements in the past, but i have come to see you as a friend. now, do i trust him fully? no. but can he come to a birthday party? yeah <3

wow. just wow. a really great episode. definitely making it onto the best episodes list! i'm trying to make a mental list of all the ones that stick out as the most enjoyable, especially the ones that are single episodes rather than the larger two or three part ones, and this is a contender surely.

"please explain to me the scientific nature of the whammy"... how could you not love her?

[luna-writes-stuff]

Nothing Else Matters, Eddie Munson

Song link

Fanfic, fem! reader

Established relationship, fluff

Word count: 3487

Tw: description of anxiety, mention of food/refusing to eat out of stress. Mentions of throwing up but it’s a throwback and it doesn’t actually happen. Swearing (duh). Not proofread. S4 centric.

Summary: You and Eddie had always had each other’s back, regardless of what happened. Even now, as he is accused of murder and violence, you decide to help him in whatever way you can. Even if that means you’ll have to fight an interdimensional creature named after a d&d character.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“So close, no matter how far.

Couldn't be much more from the heart.”

This was insane. This was batshit insane. Two weeks ago you were worried you weren’t going to show up to work on time because you were stuck in traffic, and now you were fighting an interdimensional d&d monster.

Against all odds, Nancy had woken up from whatever trance she had been in and was busy recovering in Max’ living room. You? You were still recovering from the fact you had been in another world, hunted by something you would have laughed at last week.

You were standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water with shaking hands, still unsure of what you had seen and what had happened with Nancy. None of it had felt real. You were still convinced all of this had been one weird fever dream. But the panic had felt real. The pounding in your head felt real.

“Forever trusting who we are.

And nothing else matters.”

You don’t know which words had been exchanged whilst you had zoned out, but before you knew it, Max was running to her room, leaving the rest of you in the living room, seemingly ready to take off. You stared at them absentmindedly, setting the cup onto the counter. The group hadn’t been paying much attention to you, still caught up in their earlier conversations, but Eddie had.

“Hey sweetheart,” he drawled as he walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’ve been awfully quiet this entire time.” His voice was quiet enough for the others not to hear, unless they were really paying attention to you. You were grateful for that, far too overwhelmed to form a good talk with anyone other than Eddie. You hadn’t even really known any of them to begin with.

“I’m just processing everything,” you whispered, leaning back against his embrace. “It’s a lot.” “Yeah,” he hummed in agreement. “I’m still having a hard time believing all of it.” He added, resting his head atop yours as his hands fiddled with your fingers.

“What’s going to happen now?” You asked, not having received any information since you had arrived in Max’ trailer. “I’m going to do something I’ll probably regret.” You turned in his arms, looking at him in worry. “I’m going to steal a truck.” “Eds,” you scolded. “It’s not really gonna get worse from murder.” He shrugged.

You sighed in defeat at that, knowing he was right. He might not have done it, but no one in their right mind would believe you if you told them what you had been through in just one day. You wouldn’t have.

“Never opened myself this way.

Life is ours, we live it our way.”

Max quickly re-emerged, a Michael Myers mask in her hand. She gave it to Eddie, who got out of the embrace, putting the mask on. “Huh?” He teased - his grin almost audible. “Am I Jamie Lee Curtis?” You reciprocated, forcing a fake smile onto your face. Eddie lifted the mask over his head, leaning down to place a quick kiss on your forehead.

“You know you can stay here if you want to, right?” He whispered. “No one is forcing you to go with us.” “I know,” you returned, your smile quickly fading. “But I’d feel safer with this group now.” He looked at you for a brief second before nodding. “Okay,” he spoke softly, placing another kiss on your forehead. Then, he slipped the mask back on, leading the group outside the trailer. You followed them quietly.

“All these words, I don't just say.

And nothing else matters.”

How you managed to sneak around a trailer back with a big group in an open field, you really couldn’t tell, but somehow you had made it to the back of a camper, watching as Eddie clumsily hoisted himself through a window. When he fell through, you waited a short moment, not sure if it was safe or not. As if he had heard your thinking, two hands came out of the window, gesturing for you to hold onto them. You couldn’t help but smile slightly at that, accepting the offer.

Grabbing Eddie’s hands, you made a slight jump, falling through the window as he did earlier. A loud huff was heard as you ended up on top of the couch, Eddie underneath you, his mask now off. He grinned at you sheepishly: “Well, hello there.”

You leaned down briefly, meeting his lips for a short kiss before getting off of him. Eddie followed you suit, locking the camper door before urging everyone else to get in as well. He jumped over the driver’s seat, grabbing a handful of wires underneath the steering wheel, already getting to work.

“Trust I seek and I find in you.

Every day for us something new.”

“Where'd you learn how to do this?” Steve asked, leaning over Eddie’s seat as he watched him work. “Well,” the boy began. “When the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire.” He looked up at Steve for a short second, a sarcastic smile on his face: “Now, I swore to myself I wouldn't wind up like he did, but now I'm wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh,” he hesitated. “I'm really living up to that Munson name.”

“Eddie, I'm not sure I love the idea of you driving.” Robin called, leaning against Steve to catch onto their conversation. “Oh, I'm just starting this sucker.” Eddie defended, twisting the final wires. “Harrington's got her.” He leaned forward slightly, a playful expression on his face: “Don't ya, big boy?”

With that, the car started, music loudly sounding from the speakers. “What the hell?” You heard from outside, followed by a male voice: “Hey! Open this door!” Loud knocking was heard on the door as all heads turned towards the source of the sound. Eddie shot out of the chair, placing his hands on your shoulders as he manoeuvred past you, giving Steve the ability to take the passenger seat

“Hey! They locked the door!” “Shit!” Steve cursed, before he hopped into the seat. “Go!” Lucas shouted, followed by panic from everyone else. You heard Steve hyping himself up from your place. “It's just a car.” Then, he turned around, shouting at the group. “Everybody, hang on to something!”

“Oh my God!” Dustin shouted, clutching onto one of the pillows. “Let's go! Let's go!” “Drive, Steve! Drive!” “Go, go, go!” You clutched onto the back of the passenger seat, Eddie’s hands clinging to your figure as the camper swerved through the trailer park, your heartbeat back in your throat. “Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!“ “Shit, they look pissed.”

“It's not every day you lose your house and car in one fell swoop.” Robin tried to put in, a nervous chuckle escaping her throat as she held onto one of the bars in the camper.

“Open mind for a different view.

And nothing else matters.”

When you finally reached the open road, the group had begun to calm down. Nancy was seated in the passenger seat next to Steve, whereas the rest had settled on the couch in the back of the camper. You found yourself at the table, your head against Eddie’s shoulder as you watched the trees pass by.

“You falling asleep there?” You heard Eddie hum, his arm finding its way around your body. “I wish,” you returned. “Could do with some good sleep.” “Then, get some.” The boy mused, rubbing your upper arm soothingly.

“I can’t,” you answered. “Too much going on.” You just got a hum of understanding in response. Eddie might not have been the best at verbal comfort, but it was his effort that mattered.

Instead of reassuring you of things he himself doubted, he just held you there, listening to the music on the radio as he enjoyed the weight of your head on his shoulder. It was a gentle distraction for him, however brief.

“Never cared for what they do.

Never cared for what they know.

But I know.”

“Someone’s gotta stay behind here and watch these two.” Steve spoke as he parked the camper. His words were met with a piercing silence, forcing a little chuckle from Eddie.

“I’ll stay.” Dustin spoke up, shrugging as if it was nothing. “You?” Steve asked, getting out of his seat as he looked at the younger boy. “What are you going to do when they find them?” “Nothing,” Dustin spoke matter-of-factly. “Because I’ll be the look-out.”

Steve didn’t seem sold on it. “I can drive if I have to.” You added, raising your head from Eddie’s shoulder. “They’re mostly out for Eddie.” “Yeah, but the last time they saw you, you were in the boat with me.” Eddie pointed out. “They’re definitely out for you too.”

“I’ll be the look-out.” Dustin repeated, then he turned to Steve: “Unless you want to stay behind.” He observed the three of you for a long time, before letting out a defeated sigh.

“Fine.” He turned to you, pointing his finger at you. “First thing goes wrong, you leave, okay? We’ll take a bus.” Dustin rolled his eyes, ushering everyone out.

“We’ll be fine.”

“So close, no matter how far.

It couldn't be much more from the heart.”

“This is so boring,” Eddie groaned, now seated with his back against the backrest of the driver’s seat, situated on a pile of blankets. “At least you’re safe.” Dustin mumbled, his eyes still glued on the entrance of the War Zone. He was taking his job as a look-out really seriously.

“Want a snack, princess?” Eddie asked, holding up a half eaten bag of chips to you. You dismissed him. “I’m fine, thank you.” “You need to eat something.” He countered. “You haven’t eaten anything since we went to that screwed-up Hawkins. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” “I’m just not hungry.” “Mhm,” he hummed, putting the chips on the table as he stood up.

“Don’t forget yourself, sweetheart.” He whispered as he pulled you into his arms. You didn’t quite know what to do with it. You were glad for his input, and you wanted to assure him you were fine, but something about his hold on you just made you want to fall apart.

“I don’t get how you’re so calm,” you mumbled, your voice shaky, even though you thought you kept yourself together reasonably well. “I’m not,” your boyfriend confessed. “But I can hide fear really well.”

“Forever trusting who we are.

And nothing else matters.”

“I’m just so scared,” you admitted, the words being the final drop for you. Your hands trembled around his jacket as the first tear slipped down your cheek. “Hey,” Eddie tried to comfort. “It’s okay. I’m scared too. Dustin’s scared too.” “Sorry?” Dustin asked confused, not having followed the conversation at all.

“You’re scared too.” Eddie repeated, a warning look shot towards the younger boy, though you couldn’t see it. “Absolutely.” You quickly heard. Eddie slowly parted from you, keeping you at arm’s length to properly look at you. “See?” You forced a smile onto your face, furiously wiping the tears from your face. The lump in your throat that had grown within seconds felt heavy, almost restricting you from saying anything: “I just feel like I’m the only one losing it here.” “That’s not true,” Eddie denied, one of his hands making its way to your face to wipe your other cheek.

“I don’t really know what to do with myself now. I was just lucky to have you around to ground me.” You didn’t know what it was about his words that broke you, but after that, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. You took a step closer to him, letting your face fall against his chest. Eddie returned to embrace almost immediately, clutching to your figure tightly as he began to rock from side to side, doing his best to calm you.

“Never cared for what they do.

Never cared for what they know.

But I know.”

“If it wasn’t for you, I would have been toast by now.” He continued, slowly descending to the floor, taking you with him. When you sat down, you got closer to him, one of your hands finding his as you toyed with his rings, trying to distract yourself. A desperate sob escaped you, though you tried to silence yourself quickly, knowing the walls on the camper were thin.

“Sweetheart, don’t do that, you’re gonna make me cry too.” Eddie sympathised, letting you toy with his rings as he blocked your figure with his own from Dustin’s view. “I’m sorry.” You cried softly, throwing your head back as you did your best to check your surroundings - doing anything to keep yourself from straying too far into your mind.

“No, no, don’t apologise.” The boy dismissed, placing a kiss to your temple as your sobs slowly but surely lessened. “God, I just wish I could keep you in my pocket or something and just shield you from everything.” “You guys are gross.” Dustin called from his seat. “Shut up, Henderson.”

Then, Eddie turned back to you, his head on your shoulder as his breath was hot on your neck. “We’ll be alright.” He reassured. “I’ve got you.”

“I never opened myself this way.

Life is ours, we live it our way.”

Again, Eddie was not good in verbal comfort, even as he held the best of intentions. He was, however, really good at distraction: “You know, I learned that solo a couple days ago. Haven’t really gotten the time to mention it considering… everything.” He trailed off, waving his free hand off absentmindedly. “I’ll let you hear it when we’re back home.”

You didn’t respond to that. You heard him, but you were too caught up to properly respond to him. The crying had begun to slow down, but hiccups still remained. It was times like these you were so incredibly grateful to have Eddie at your side because, regardless of his flaws. He always managed to work something out.

“Hey, remember that time Garrett threw up over my guitar?” He started with a chuckle. You couldn’t resist the small laugh that escaped you. “Yeah, it was such a pain to get out.” He went on. Your breathing had become more steady, the tears now finally stopping. “You bought me a new one after that.” Eddie voiced when he noticed the change in your posture.

“It got everywhere,” you whispered. “Even after washing it, it still smelled.” “Yeah,” Eddie laughed. “And it just felt disgusting to hold.”

“All these words, I don't just say.

And nothing else matters.”

“I had some good memories with that guitar, though. It was the one I played when you came to our first gig.” An exhausted sigh came from you as you simply rested in Eddie’s arms, fatigue now finally settling in. “Oh god, you remember that?” You mumbled.

“How could I not?” He snickered. “It was like, only a year ago.” You just nodded at that, your fingers now entwining with his. “Yeah, you were dressed in your work outfit because you just got off your shift.”

A smile appeared on his face as he remembered the day. You had been working at the Starcourt Mall when it still stood, making long days whilst awaiting your college letter. You had barely kept in touch with Eddie over that period of time, yet you came to his first gig when he asked you.

“You were half asleep during the entire gig.” He voiced. “I had a long day.” “And yet, you showed.”

You looked up at him, his hair now tickling your face as he leaned down to make eye contact with you.

“You asked me.”

“Trust I seek and I find in you.

Every day for us something new.”

He hummed: “Never expected you to actually come, though.” At that, you furrowed your eyebrows together, already forgetting all worry from earlier. The two of you never really talked about that day, even though it had been important to both of you. It was a fond memory, the beginning of something you had been sharing for a while now. But the urge to properly discuss it never really came up. There wasn’t really any need to. So, to hear the insecurities he had held about it had taken you aback.

“Really?” “Yeah,” he scoffed. “You were this amazing, badass girl and I just worked on a project with you once.” “And I got you your records.” You added. During that year in Starcourt, you had gotten a job at the record store. It was weird, considering you and Eddie never had much contact, yet you’d always have a record for him if you were to meet up for whatever reason.

“How could I forget?” The boy laughed. “You were already out of school and we were as good as strangers. And yet, you showed up.”

“Open mind for a different view.

And nothing else matters.”

“We were never strangers.” You comforted. “No?”

“No.” You assured. You noticed the way his eyes softened slightly at that, a fond smile crossing his lips. You leaned up slightly, placing a kiss to them, enjoying the feeling for a short second. The moment was interrupted when Dustin coughed obnoxiously, almost as if reminding you he had still been there.

Eddie smiled against your lips, pressing another kiss to it before parting. You sighed at the loss, nestling your head in the crook of his neck. “I guess there’s no shame in saying it now, but I had the biggest crush on you in high school.”

“Really?” He questioned incredulously. “Me?”

“Eddie.” You deadpanned. “Yah?”

“We’re dating.”

“I know. Embarrassing for you.”

“Never cared for what they say.

Never cared for games they play.”

You snickered at him, shaking your head at his comments. Yet, Eddie kept you there, confusion still evident on his face: “You had a crush on me?” “That so surprising?” “Yes!” He practically shouted. “You were this cool chick who was just perfect in every way and I was a social outcast.” “But a sexy social outcast.” You added in a humorous tone.

Eddie’s free hand fell over your entwined ones, tracing patterns on the back of your hand, a new-found pride settling into his system: “You’re telling me we could have been dating all that time?”

You grabbed his hand, kissing his palm gently. “You would have worked up the confidence to ask me out?” “Absolutely not.” He answered honestly. “I should have.”

You shrugged.“We still ended up here. Guess it worked out for the best.”

“Never cared for what they do.

Never cared for what they know.

And I know.”

Finally, you stood up from the floor, groaning slightly as you stretched your arms. You shot Dustin a teasing look: “We’re done being lovesick, Dustin,” you sang. “You can look.” The younger boy immediately looked at you, pointing his finger at you and Eddie in accusation. “You two are disgusting.”

“Ah, I love that little guy.” Eddie smiled from his seat on the floor. “Disgusting.” Dustin emphasised. “I cannot wait until the rest returns.”

With that, you took a quick glimpse at your watch, noticing the amount of time that had passed. “About that,” you began. “They’ve been gone for an awfully long time.”

“You think they’re compromised?” Dustin asked, his eyes widening. “No,” you shook your head. “You would have seen them, right?” The boy just shrugged, swallowing thickly.

“So close, no matter how far.

Couldn't be much more from the heart.”

“What the hell is taking so long?” Dustin groaned, running his hands through his hair in impatience. As if they were waiting on the other side of the door, the group suddenly came barrelling in, taking you three by surprise. By the evident distress on their faces, something had gone wrong.

“What happened?” “Gotta go,” Robin rambled. “Your old friends are here.” “Shit.” Eddie cursed, leaning his head down beneath the driver seat. He opened his arms, urging you to join him: “Come here, sweetheart.”

You took his invitation, crawling back into his arms as he swung a blanket over the pair of you, doing his best to keep you hidden. Robin stood in front of you, blocking you from the windows. “Let's go! Let's go!” Erica shouted from the couch, her eyes glued to the outside. “I'm going! I'm going!” Steve yelled back, driving the car from its parking spot. “Sit down!”

And just like that, the panic was back: a painful preview of what you were going to endure. The only distraction you had now was the warm embrace of Eddie. And for now, that was enough to keep you grounded.

“Forever trusting who we are.

No, nothing else matters.”