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megalony · 1 month

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Exploding Emotions

As promised, this is the new Evan Buckley imagine I have been working on, I am very happy with this one and I hope you will all like it.

Please let me know what you think.

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: While out on a call, an accident gives (Y/n) flashbacks to the night her husband got trapped beneath the fire truck and what happened to her while he was stuck.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, what have we got?"

The team clambered out the truck one by one, each sorting their gloves and reaching for their helmets while they followed after Bobby. The Captain led them away from the truck and towards the scene they were here to assist.

(Y/n) could feel her legs starting to ache and she was beginning to lag behind. This was their fifth call and they weren't even halfway through their shift yet, and they had come here straight after their last call. They hadn't been back to the station for a drink or a snack or had a moment's peace.

Added to the fact that this was an evening shift, (Y/n) felt like dropping down here and now in the middle of the road.

She shrugged on her florescent jacket and stood near Ravi, looking out at the scene.

Each of them could feel their shoulders sagging and a grimace flooded their faces in turn when they looked around.

A lorry had crashed at an intersection. The large metal lorry was now on its side right in the centre, with a mangled up car resting in front of the bonnet. There were at least four other cars scattered around who had either crashed together, hit posts or swerved and burst a tyre trying to get out of the firing line.

"Hen, Chim, head for the lorry and the collision car in the centre, those drivers will be the worst off. Everyone else, fan out around. If anyone can walk, guide them to safety and get them off the scene."

Bobby's orders fell upon deaf ears when (Y/n) looked at the scene ahead of her.

The hairs on the back of her neck started to prickle and stand on end as a cold shiver passed through her blood. She could feel her lungs tightening and closing up and her eyes zoned in on the lorry.

It was the same crimson shade as the fire truck. Those bright headlights were shining in her direction, they were calling out to her.

It looked just like the scene over a year ago that (Y/n) had to endure watching over the news.

The scene that tore out her heart and made her feel like she was witnessing the end of the world with no way of helping. Being a firefighter meant it was in (Y/n)'s nature to help people. She wasn't used to sitting back and watching from the sidelines, unable to do anything at all. And when it had involved the one person who meant the entire world to her, everything else had become insignificant.

Dread clawed at (Y/n)'s lungs as she felt herself beginning to shake. It felt like a decade had passed since that night, but standing here, staring ahead at that crumpled lorry in the middle of the road, in the dead of night, (Y/n) suddenly felt as if the last year had evaporated into dust.

She felt like she had been transported back one year with her wish of being able to be on scene and do something to help. To look after Evan and get him out.

Was he there? Was Evan laid out on the concrete with one leg practically split apart and a hundred tons of metal crushing down on him? Was he pinned to the floor, unable to move in any direction? Was he screaming until his lips were blue and his lungs were on the verge of giving out? Was Evan in mass agony, violently screaming for someone to do something to help him when no one stepped forward to save him?

"(Y/n)? Everything okay?"

A quiet round of "He's not here," murmured beneath her breath, so quiet that her dad didn't catch a word.

But he could see by the faint, distant look in her constricted eyes and the trembling that set in her body that she wasn't here. She wasn't on scene with them, not mentally. Her mind had gone somewhere else and although he didn't know where, he could see she needed a few moments to come back to the present.

His eyes widened when he watched her suddenly stumble before she crashed down to her knees. Her arms were pinned around her waist with her head lolled to one side, but Bobby could see her eyes were intently focused on the scene ahead of them.

They couldn't see any of the number plates from this far away and there weren't any casualties yet or anyone they knew here on scene. So (Y/n) couldn't be panicking about having family or friends meddled up in this collision.

He hurriedly crouched down in front of her, moving his hands to hold her arms while he leaned his head to try and get within her line of sight. But even when he was in her view, it was like she was looking through him rather than at him. She wasn't here, she was lost.

"Honey, talk to me. Are you okay?"

Relief overtook Bobby when (Y/n) managed to nod her head. She could hear him. She hadn't collapsed in pain or mass agony, she wasn't having some kind of stroke or seizure or some sort of episode. Something was clearly going on, but it didn't seem to be a dire emergency.

Bobby couldn't be doing with any more emergencies. Not after this last year with Evan and all his operations on his leg and him and (Y/n) struggling to cope with those and a newborn baby. (Y/n) had only just come back to work from maternity leave while Evan's return to work date was still to be determined.

His daughter and son-in-law had been through enough.

"I just… I need- need a minute." Her voice sounded distant even to herself and she kept leaning her head to the right until she could look around her dad and stare back at the lorry that was looking more and more like a fire truck to her hazy eyes.

"You sit this one out, get back in the truck. I'll be back in five minutes, if you need help, radio through."

Bobby looked like he was going to try and help her up into the truck behind her, but she shook her head. She wanted to stay where she was, knelt down on the floor. She was okay, but she didn't have the willpower or the energy to get up yet. She couldn't move. She had to stay here.

He seemed dubious about leaving her, but (Y/n) clearly didn't want help right now and they were two men down with Eddie being on holiday and Evan currently off work. And if (Y/n) was sitting this call out, Bobby needed to get back out there and control the situation and help so they could be back at the station as soon as possible.

(Y/n) barely heard her dad whisper that he would be back soon and she tried to lean closer when he kissed her temple. His touch lingered for a few moments, giving away how badly he wanted to stay with her and truly make sure she was alright. But the faint smile she tried to muster told him she might just be okay for a few minutes while he got this scene under control.

All she could do was lean her shoulders back against the truck and close her eyes, but the image was still there. Those beaming headlights were aimed at her. They were shining on her, blinking at her, flashing for her attention and the light shone through her closed eyes that were illuminated into bright red lines. With the image of Evan burned into her cornias until the day she died.

The image of Evan laid out on his stomach, gloved fingers desperately clawing at the floor. Nails splitting apart beneath the gloves, fingertips wearing down and the skin rubbing off as he tried to prize himself free.

His lips, sodden with sweat and dirt and the odd speckle of blood, screaming until he was froffing at the mouth and his throat felt drier than the desert.

His eyes, shedding so manny tears he could have had his own ocean named after him. Red circles beneath his eyes, veins prominent in the whites of his eyes, cheeks glistening with little white tracks where tears had wiped through the dirt covering his face.

(Y/n) could hear those screams. She could see the blood creating a puddle beneath him. She could see people moving to lift the truck and she could hear the agony in her husband's shrieks when their team finally dragged him from the wreckage and prized him free too late for (Y/n)'s liking.

Tears began to streak down her own face before she could stop them and she found her trembling hands rattling through her inside jacket pocket, searching for her phone.

She had to make sure he was okay.

She had to call Evan.

She had to know he wasn't in danger.

To stop herself from staring at the scene ahead that was only inflating her panic and agony, (Y/n) snapped her eyes closed. She closed them so tightly pins and needles flooded her face and had her squirming from the tight pain ebbing away at her eyes. It didn't stop the tears from falling, but they were only silent tears of fading panic and old anguish she was trying to push away.

The line didn't ring for long and (Y/n) was suddenly overwhelmed. Usually when it didn't ring for more than three beeps it meant Evan's phone was switched off or he rejected the call because he was busy on a call. And if the line had rung and rung with no answer, (Y/n) wasn't sure what her panicked brain would do in that scenario.

"Hey baby, everything okay?"

Evan's voice was the calm after the storm. (Y/n) could feel more silent tears beginning to stream down her face when she listened to his lulling voice with that slight rough edge that implied he may have taken a nap with Lilah at some point tonight.

He wasn't quite used to being at home while (Y/n) was at work. It had been the other way around when (Y/n) took early maternity leave and Evan had been the one to call her while he was at work. Just so he could hear her voice or listen to how her day had been to take his mind off a rough or an oddly quiet shift.

He didn't like being the one stuck at home, not able to do his job. But now he didn't have a pot running from his toes midway up his thigh, it was easier to be at home. No one had to be here helping him hobble about the house, he didn't need (Y/n) to help him wash or help him up out of bed and down the stairs.

He didn't need Maddie coming round to babysit him and now he could walk- although with a limp for now- he could properly care for Lilah.

It crushed Evan to not be able to carry his baby girl or bathe her or take her for a walk when he had been on crutches. Seeing (Y/n) or Maddie or even Bobby come round and help with Lilah had been killing him. But now, until he was signed off for work, Evan was spending as much time as he could with his baby girl.

"Babe, you there?" There was a slight chuckle at the end of his words as if he thought (Y/n) may have called him by accident or not realised she was now on the phone to him.

"Hm."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah… just- just wanted to hear your voice." Her voice sounded steadier than she had hoped and it made her relieved. She didn't want to worry Evan unnecessarily and make him panic or think something was wrong.

Because nothing was wrong, not really. A moment of panic had now been quenched by the sound of Evan's voice. (Y/n) could carry on, she could pick herself back up and get out there and try to actually do her job and hope none of the team had noticed her lapse in concentration.

"Why, what's going on?" There was a softness to his tone and (Y/n) could just imagine him sat there smiling.

She wasn't going to worry him. There was no point when telling Evan why she had worriedly called him would only serve to upset him. And there was no way to open up that conversation and tell him she had a brief panic at the thought of his accident.

"Nothing, just missed you."

"You're sweet." He tilted his head back, sliding further down the sofa he was reclined on with both legs hanging over the other side. And he shuffled Lilah who was laid on his chest with her head just beneath his collar bone. "Who's on the phone? Is it mummy?"

He got a little babbling response, a jumbled sound that was drowsy and showed that the toddler was about to fall asleep at any moment. But it was enough to have Evan smiling as he kissed her temple and ran his hand up and down her back, holding his phone closer to his ear with the other hand.

"So, you're missing me, huh?"

(Y/n) allowed a smile to pull at her lips. She felt better already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(One year ago)

Lifting her head, (Y/n) looked up at Athena through blurry eyes when they both heard a knock at the door.

She reached her hand out to give her mum's hand a tight squeeze and the calming smile on Athena's face did wonders for (Y/n)'s raging nerves. They both had the same thought in mind. They both prayed it was Evan at the front door.

Athena leaned over to peck (Y/n)'s temple before she got up from the sofa and hurried out into the hall to open the door.

Just as Athena dipped out the room, (Y/n) leaned forward with one hand gripping the arm of the sofa and her other hand clutching at her stomach. she hunched over as much as she could until her stomach was pressing into her thighs and her head was tilted down.

God, these contractions were going to be the death of her.

A quiet groan burned at the back of her throat and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes but she willed them away. She couldn't be crying yet, not when she wasn't even fully dilated or at the point of pushing yet. But she couldn't help it.

She wanted Evan. She wanted him to come home.

She was two weeks away from her due date and had gone into labour right when Evan was in the middle of a night shift with the rest of the team. (Y/n) had been extremely lucky that when she rang her mum, Athena hadn't been on shift tonight. She had come straight over and when neither of them could get hold of Evan or Bobby, Athena called the next best person.

She rang Maddie who was on shift at dispatch and they kindly asked her to get the message across to the 118 that Evan would have to end his shift early. He needed to come home and be here when (Y/n) had their baby.

When the contraction subsided, (Y/n) let out a groan and started to rub circles along her stomach in the vain hope that it would take her mind off the budding pains. And the ache in her heart from not having Evan here. He promised to be here. He had been subtly whispering to her bump, telling the baby to make an appearance when Evan was home and that they had to wait patiently for him.

(Y/n) had playfully told Evan off two weeks ago when he had been talking to the baby and asked them to arrive promptly last week so Evan wouldn't have to go to dinner with his parents for his dad's birthday. It didn't happen. They all suffered through dinner together anyway. If (Y/n) went into labour then, at least Evan would have been by her side rather than on shift like he was now.

"Is- is that him?" (Y/n) tried to look over her shoulder but she couldn't see Athena in the hall from where she was sat in the living room.

But she couldn't hear voices either. Athena was speaking in hushed tones with whoever was at the door. That must mean it wasn't Evan, if it was he would have burst through the doors and found (Y/n) immediately.

With pursed lips set into a deep frown, (Y/n) reached across for the tv remote and promptly changed the channel. The stupid sitcom that had been on in the background was steadily getting on (Y/n)'s nerves. The gag lines were silly, the jokes weren't funny and the audience laughing was irritating her to no end.

She flicked through three channels, about to look through a few more until a headline on the late night news caught her attention.

LAFD Bombing.

Her head tilted to one side and her eyes narrowed as she watched the camera zoom in, clearly live recording from a helicopter hovering at the scene.

Someone had tried to blow up a fire truck. They were sectioning off the street while the fire brigade talked to the bomber who was actually on the scene. a few people had been hurt in the blast. Someone was trapped. One of the firemen was still stuck in the fire truck that had exploded on-route.

"We can't tell her-"

Maddie lost her train of thought and whatever she was about to say when a horrifying, gut-wrenching scream shook the walls of the house. She clutched the doorframe, her eyes locking with Athena as the pair of them bolted from the hall and into the living room.

It was too late.

More tears streamed down Maddie's face, despite the fact that she had been crying for over twenty minutes now since the news reel first started and showed her little brother in peril.

She had come straight over to help Athena take (Y/n) to hospital and be here with her while Evan couldn't. She had tried to explain what had happened, she didn't want (Y/n) to know. She didn't want her sister in law to panic or be in distress, not when she was already overwhelmed and in labour. But it seemed too late now.

Both of them scurried into the living room to find (Y/n) down on her knees in front of the coffee table. One hand gripping the table while the other clutched the tv remote close to her chest. She turned the volume up until all of them were wincing at the abrupt noises of the helicopter and the news reporters.

She had seen. (Y/n) had seen her husband, lying there on the floor with the entire fire truck crushing down on his leg.

No wonder he wasn't here already. He wasn't going to be here. Evan wasn't coming home, he was stuck. He was pinned down to the road like a fly trapped in a spider's web. Her husband was being crushed while she was splitting apart, about to have their first baby without him. There was no way Evan was going to be here to hold her hand or be by her side.

Did he even know she had gone into labour? Had he been told before this accident happened or was he still oblivious? What did it matter? Labour seemed insignificant compared to the horror Evan was going through.

Why were they broadcasting his anguish to the world?

"(Y/n)-"

"Oh honey."

A gurgling sob left (Y/n)'s lips as she pushed forward until her forehead was pressing down on the edge of the coffee table harsh enough that it was going to leave a mark soon.

When she felt Athena and Maddie reaching out for her, she roughly shook them off, but it wasn't like she could move very far. Not when her aching knees were now glued to the carpet and her stomach was tightening with every passing second.

"He- he's hurt!" The urgency in (Y/n)'s voice took Athena by surprise and only made fresh tears pour down Maddie's face.

This is what she had been afraid of. She had been worried about (Y/n) finding out and sending herself into a state of distress which wouldn't do her or the baby any good. She had hoped to keep (Y/n) ignorant and try to tell her that Evan had been caught up in a situation at work. Maybe tell her there was a bomber out there and the team were trying to diffuse the situation. She thought it would be easier to tell (Y/n) once she'd had the baby or once Evan was taken to hospital, whatever happened first.

"They're going to look after him, he'll be okay." Maddie looped her arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders and gently reeled her sister in law into her chest. She pecked the top of (Y/n)'s head and tried to rub her hand up and down her back, but she could see she wasn't helping very much.

Sobs continued to wrack (Y/n)'s body that was now trembling and when she reeled up, she looked back at the tv which was now zooming in on her husband's peril.

Showing Evan in all his anguish and agony, bright red in the face, spit dribbling down his chin as he screamed. Hands clawing at the road to try and drag himself free to no avail.

"Why isn't someone helping him?!" The words tore past (Y/n)'s lips with a violent scream before she launched the remote in her hand far across the room. Watching with anger and disgust as the remote hit the wall, rebounded into a picture frame and knocked it to the floor.

The shattering glass somehow made (Y/n) feel a little better. Something else other than her and Evan was shattering.

Why wasn't there someone knelt down beside her husband, telling him everything was going to be okay? Why wasn't someone holding his hand? Why was no one trying to move the truck and free her husband? How could they just stand back and leave him there like that, allowing the camera to get a closer view than the rest of them? That wasn't fair. They couldn't leave him in agony like that.

"We have t-to help him. I need to be there- be there with him." Each word came out with a hitched breath until (Y/n) was barely breathing and reduced to panting and gasping instead.

She moved her hands to the coffee table and tried her best to push up from where she was knelt on the floor. But both her legs were shaking and the moment she was on her feet, a cry errupted from her lips and her hands cupped her stomach that was twisting in agony.

She felt Athena rush to grab her arm and steady her and she allowed herself to lean into her mum's touch, letting Athena hold up some of her weight.

"Honey, we need to go to the hospital, these contractions are getting closer." Athena shakily brushed her free hand along (Y/n)'s cheek and leaned over to kiss her temple. (Y/n) was like another daughter to her. Since the moment she married Bobby, she had taken (Y/n) in as her own like Bobby had grown close to May and Harry.

She hated to see (Y/n) in distress like this much the same as she couldn't look at the tv and see Evan be trapped beneath that truck.

"No. No, I w-" She broke off with another cry as Maddie reached out for her waist to stop her from going back down on her knees. "Evan! He needs us."

Maddie couldn't stop her lower lip from wobbling and she sucked in a deep breath, doing her best to stop from bursting into another fit of tears. How could any of this be happening? How could her little brother be stuck in peril like that? How could (Y/n) be in labour at the exact same moment? How could they be separated in a moment where they should both be together? When they had both been planning to do this as one since the moment they found out about this baby.

"Buck has the team with him to look after him, and he wouldn't stand for you having his baby in the middle of the street, now would he?" The firm tone to Athena's voice made (Y/n) shiver and feel like she was a child being told the rules of the game.

Her head fell onto Athena's shoulder and a low whine passed her lips as she began to cry.

"Your dad is there with him, I'll call him when we're at the hospital to find out what's happening. And as soon as Buck is at the hospital with us, we can sort everything out. But we need to get you to the hospital to look after you and this baby."

"Buck will be taken to the hospital soon, better to be there waiting for him than stuck in traffic trying to reach him, hm?" Maddie's words made sense and seemed to calm down one of (Y/n)'s many erratic nerves.

The roads would be gridlocked. They had to get going now and it was lucky that Athena had sirens in her car so she could override the traffic that would undoubtedly be on the streets.

Rather than trying to get to Evan, by which time he could be transported to the hospital, they may as well get there first and wait for him. (Y/n) could be seen by the midwife, her and the baby would be safe and as soon as Evan was there, they would find out what was happening and get news of if he was alright or not.

They would wait for him at the hospital. And (Y/n) would try and hold on as long as she could. She didn't want this baby on her own, she wanted to know Evan was okay.

She wanted to see him before she gave birth.

***

"Why don't we sit down-"

"No."

Both (Y/n)'s hands planted down on the bed in front of her. Her lower back arched out and she leaned forward until her legs were ready to cave in beneath her and give way. Her knees were trembling. Her arms were rattling against the bedframe. She wanted to be sick.

She had shed so many tears she could have a river named after her. Both eyes were puffy and begging for rest, for a moment to sleep or fall closed and recover and to stop crying, but (Y/n) didn't know how. She didn't know how to stop crying when she could see her husband in dire distress, but she couldn't do anything to help him.

She didn't want to sit down, (Y/n) didn't want to be here in the first place. She changed her mind as soon as they arrived at the hospital. She wanted to turn round and go find Evan, she wanted to be there with him, to talk to him and tell him that she was here. She was nearby and she wanted him to know she wanted to help but she just didn't know how.

Another cry tumbled past her lips as her hands fisted in the bedsheets. She wasn't sure whether it was Maddie or Athena who was reaching out for her, but she didn't care. Their gentle touches and vain attempts to get her to move from her crouched position weren't working.

When the pain finally wore off, (Y/n) lifted her head and looked up at the tv in the corner of the room.

The news reel was playing. (Y/n) had been glued to watching any screen she could, looking at any monitor that was recording the live event and giving her a view of her husband in turmoil.

People had finally started to move to try and help him. Evan was no longer sprawled out on the floor on his own, in mass agony, with no way of getting himself free. The rest of the team had managed to pull themselves together and were trying to move the truck. As if any of them could lift that ten ton of steel and and equipment and oversized engine.

"How are we doing in here?" The same midwife who had showed them in peeked her head round the door. She had been doing regular checks and kept trying to insist (Y/n) try to sit and calm down because this was doing her blood pressure and the baby's heartbeat no favours. But (Y/n) wasn't in any fit state to listen.

(Y/n) didn't bother answering, she kept her gaze intently focused on the tv. She couldn't believe Evan hadn't passed out by now and she couldn't believe no one had gotten him free yet.

If they'd of gotten him out by now he could have been in the hospital. (Y/n) could have been with him, she could of held his hand and promised him everything was going to be okay.

She wished there was a way to pause her body and stop labour until Evan was in a fit state to be here, but that wasn't possible.

When another pain hit, (Y/n) couldn't stop her knees from giving out on her and she crumpled down into a squatting position. She thrust more weight onto her arms, quivering through the pain as Maddie tried to stop her from kneeling on the floor and Athena's hands held onto her waist to try and coil her up.

"If you're pushing, we really need to get you on the bed." There was a sense of urgency in the midwife's voice and she got as close as she could considering Maddie and Athena were crowding her like bodyguards.

(Y/n) didn't have the willpower to argue with them anymore.

Her hands clawed at the bed once the pain wore off and left her cramping and aching and splitting apart in dull infrequent waves. It didn't feel good to be sitting down like it did to be crouching or pacing around the room. Pacing kept her mind busy and gave her something to do.

And (Y/n) was fearful that as soon as she sat down, she would progress further and have the baby without Evan, although that seemed inevitable now.

"I think you're ready, let's get settled to push, shall we?" The sympathy in the midwife's voice did nothing to settle the anguish in (Y/n)'s heart.

Her head began to shake and her lower lip wobbled as a horrid sob wracked her chest. This wasn't how things were supposed to play out. She was supposed to be safe at home with Evan when she went into labour. He was supposed to time the contractions and take her to hospital and hold her hand and help her through this.

He was supposed to be here making jokes and kissing her hand and telling her all the random facts about labour and kids that he had learned to go along with all the pregnancy facts he had been telling her the last few months.

Evan wasn't supposed to be stuck with their entire damn fire truck crumpling down on his leg and people desperately trying to set him free.

"I c- I can't have this baby yet-" Her head began to shake and she tugged on Athena's hand as if her mum could somehow do something to rectify this situation.

"Honey, you don't have much of a choice."

Maddie sat down on the left side of the bed and let (Y/n) deadlock their hands together. She reached out with her free hand and gently ran her fingers through (Y/n)'s damp, matted hair, brushing the strands away from her face as she herself was in tears once again.

She hadn't expected to be here when (Y/n) gave birth, she had expected to have the most overjoyed, hyper phone call from her little brother telling her when (Y/n) went into labour. And then another call to ask her to come down to the hospital once her niece or nephew was born.

But when she came along to bring (Y/n) down here, (Y/n) hadn't let go of her hand and Maddie took that as a silent hint that (Y/n) didn't want her to go. And she didn't want to go either. Maddie didn't want to go home and wait anxiously in vain for news of both (Y/n) and Evan.

She had to be here, whether that was in the room right now giving (Y/n) support or just sitting in the hallway waiting for news on either her or Evan. Being in here made Maddie feel useful and it was a distraction.

"You can push on the next contraction."

(Y/n) didn't reply, but she did as she was told and started to push. Her knees coiled up, she pulled both Athena and Maddie's hands towards her chest and she leaned forward as much as she could to see if it would help.

But she stopped, every part of her body going rigid and becoming tense as her head snapped up to the tv.

A small 'oh' left her lips before a round of "Evan!" croaked into the air causing the other girls to look up at the tv.

Dozens upon dozens of passers by in the street were pushing the fire truck. Everyone was leaning against it, forcing all of their weight onto the structure to try and get Evan free.

(Y/n) ignored the next contraction, droning out the midwife's nervous instructions and she tried not to push as she put all of her focus on the tv. Silent sobs wracked her lips and had her trembling back and forth as she watched Hen and Eddie reach out for Evan to try and pull him free, while every other civilian there pushed on the truck.

What hurt (Y/n) the most was seeing Evan scrape his hand against the road. He was trying to help. He had hundreds of pounds of metal crushing down on his leg, pinning him to the road, he was in more agony than he ever had been in his life. And there he was, trying to help get himself free, trying to drag himself along the road to make it easier on everyone else.

The news reporter was close enough that Evan's horrid scream of terror managed to get broadcast on the tv and (Y/n)'s only response was to cry his name through wet lips as another contraction hit and she started to push.

"He- he's free."

"They've got him, they've got him honey."

"He'll be okay now." Maddie leaned forward when (Y/n) dropped her head onto her sister's shoulder and Maddie kissed the top of her head, weaving her other arm around (Y/n)'s waist.

(Y/n) coiled her legs up tighter until her knees were pressing into her stomach and she pushed. Unable to stop herself from muttering Evan's name on a loop as if it was the only thing she could understand. She was almost there, she was about to have her baby in her arms, and the one person she wanted here with her was nowhere to be seen.

The news reel changed to a wider angle of the whole scene and the reporter switched back to someone in the studio. Evan was free, they weren't going to record the team getting him into an ambulance and racing him away from the scene. But he was free. He was free from the constraints of the fire truck and now he would be here within ten minutes, all being well.

But he was still going to miss the birth.

***

"We're here! Buck, we're here." Reaching down, Bobby gripped Evan's arm and did his best to try and smile, but he couldn't manage it. Not when he could see the damage done to his son in law's leg.

He could see the dramatic sight where skin and muscle had been split apart and the bone was visible. He could see breaks in the bone and splinters of bone pushing out at odd angles. He could see through the gauze that was moulding into Evan's wound from soaking up all the blood that the strap around his thigh couldn't cut off.

It didn't look good.

Both Eddie and Hen had been doing their best to make him comfortable on the ride down here, but it was hard. They couldn't give him any morphine, not when he was going to need X-rays and scans and an emergency operation. Morphine and anaesthetic didn't always mix well and Evan had a bad track history with medications causing severe reactions.

All they could give him was the gas and air tube to breathe through and although it had done nothing to take the edge off, Evan had been breathing it in since the moment they got him in the ambulance.

"Let's get you inside, you're gonna be just fine." Hen's voice was soothing, but Evan couldn't believe her words.

He didn't feel fine.

He didn't feel as if he was going to be fine or make a swift recovery from this.

He felt like he was going to be put under anaesthetic and wake up with one leg. He could feel each piece of tattered skin desperately trying to cling to his leg. He could feel his leg pulsing and aching from where the blood supply had been cut off mid-way down his thigh. Evan felt like his body was on fire, his leg was disconnected and each breath was becoming harder to take.

When Eddie reached across to try and take the gas and air tube from his grip, a deep growl emmited from Evan's lips and he clenched his hand tight around the tube.

He pulled the strange looking mask back to his lips and inhaled three fast, choked breaths. The tubes were always switched and cleaned out after every use, but Evan had a feeling they would have to bin this one. He had chomped down so hard on the tube that he had left puncture indents in the plastic.

"No! It f-fucking kills-"

"Buck, you can have more pain relief once you're inside, I swear. Mate please, please we have to move you now." Eddie felt horrible when he had to prize Evan's fingers from the gas and air and as soon as he let go, they clipped off the breaks and moved the stretcher.

Bobby leaned down and took Evan's hand once they all climbed down and Chimney rushed from the driver's seat. He held Evan's hand high to his chest as Evan started to thrash around on the gurney.

His chest stuttered up and down and repeatedly pushed back to the point the gurney was shaking and about to unlock and lower down. His free hand curled into a fist and slammed into the metal frame harsh enough to split some of the skin around his knuckles.

He was in agony. He needed it to stop.

"(Y/n). Have- have you- fuck. (Y/n)." Evan couldn't get his thoughts in order, the only thing in his head and the one word that could properly be muttered from his lips was his wife's name.

They had been on their way back to the station when the bomb hit. They had been going back specifically because Maddie came through the radio and said (Y/n) had gone into labour. That was the call Evan had been waiting for and dreading at the same time. He had been anxious about when (Y/n) would go into labour and if it would happen while he was at work.

He had been ecstatic. He had been bouncing in his seat, riding shotgun in the truck for the first time in ages and he and Bobby had been debating whether it would be a boy or a girl.

Now, Evan had no idea what was happening. He didn't know who was with (Y/n) or if she was alone right now. He didn't know if she was still home or if someone had taken her to the maternity ward. He didn't know if she was in agony, if anything had gone wrong, if she was having complications or sailing through labour without him.

Bobby tightened his hand around Evan's and leaned down so he could talk to him better because he knew Evan was now having a hard time concentrating and taking things in. Who wouldn't in his state?

"Athena and Maddie brought her to the hospital, once you're inside I'll go find them. She'll be okay."

While waiting for people to help get Evan free, Bobby had answered the third phone call from his wife. All he knew so far was they had brought (Y/n) in and labour was in full swing, they were just waiting for her to dilate. But his daughter was here and she was safe, that was all Bobby needed to know for now while he focused on looking after his son in law.

"I wa- I want-" Evan broke off into an animalistic howl when the gurney jolted over the threshold into the emergency room and the shock sent his leg jerking. Shockwaves rattled up and down his spine and both legs shook as if he had been electrocuted.

He lifted his head and shoulders, doing his best to sit up although he wasn't sure what he was doing, he just wanted to move.

He wanted the pain to stop.

Tears flushed down his face and a broken sob left his lips when he locked onto a familiar frame stood anxiously by the reception desk.

He could see his big sister stood with a bright red face, puffy eyes and tears streaked down her features. She had both hands interlocked in front of her in that panicked manner where she would scratch her nails along the back of her hands until they were rubbed raw. The moment she looked their way, it was as if a light had come and gone in her eyes all at once.

She ran across the floor and grabbed Evan's outstretched hand, pulling it up so she could kiss the back of his hand. Her fingers trailed up and down his arm and her lips wobbled, unable to hold back a sob when she looked at her baby brother who had been more of a son to her at times.

"Oh, oh Buck."

Evan let out another sob while the team paused the gurney in the hallway and Eddie moved to flag someone down. This was a dire emergency, they needed a doctor here now and they needed Evan taken to theatre before he lost his leg.

"W-where's (Y/n)?" Evan had spent the last few hours wondering what was happening with his wife, if she was okay, if he could be taken to her at some point.

He had tried arguing with Bobby on the journey down here, asking if he could see (Y/n) before he went for whatever surgery he was going to need. Of course Bobby said no, that wasn't going to be an option. Evan couldn't delay any form of treatment, not for a minute or an hour. He had to be taken straight to theatre.

"She's on the maternity ward."

"Is she-"

"She's fine… oh Buck, you've got a beautiful little girl." Maddie reached her hand out to brush her finger down his bloodied cheek as a broken smile formed on her lips.

But her smile faded into an open-mouthed, hollow frown when Evan's entire face fell. His jaw loosened and slacked like it had become disconnected, his eyes glossed over and his nose crinkled making him look like a snarling dog.

"I m- I missed it? I- oh God- Bobby-" The most horrid scream any of them ever heard erupted from Evan's lips and shook the walls.

He ripped his hand free from Maddie's hold, slammed his fist down into the frame of the gurney and writhed until he almost toppled off the gurney. He fought and thrashed against all the hands that pinned him down and ignored their panicked screams for a doctor.

He missed it.

He missed his daughter's birth. He hadn't been there. He promised (Y/n) he would be with her from the moment she went into labour to the moment their precious baby would be in their arms. He said he would do anything he could to be there and that he wouldn't let her down, and now, he had broken those promises.

He couldn't see (Y/n), he couldn't hold his daughter. He couldn't cut the cord or hold her for the first time the moment she was born. He wasn't going to see her on her birthday, if he was going for an operation he wouldn't be conscious or lucid enough to see her for another day, possibly two.

A chorus of exploding emotions erupted to life in his chest and wailed past his lips but it didn't feel like anyone was listening to him. And Evan was too far gone into his despair to hear anyone try to comfort him. He didn't want comfort. He wanted a time machine. Evan wanted the chance to go back and make sure this didn't happen.

He wanted to rewind time and sit in the back of the truck with the rest of the team so he could scramble out without being trapped. He wanted to get out of that truck unscathed and rush down to the hospital and hold his wife's hand as she gave birth to their daughter.

This wasn't fair.

Tortured screams left Evan's lips and (Y/n)'s name spat past his lips on repeat as the gurney began to move and hands continued to pin him down.

But the pain in his leg was nothing compared to the agony overwhelming his heart.

#imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #pregnant! reader #bobby nash #eddie diaz

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brandisymone · 1 year

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‘how does it feel to be you?’

#brandispics #photography #black out #black love #brown skin #black friday #black hair #chicago #music #sza #natural hair #urban outfitters

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justlemmeadoreyou · 5 months

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1. prepping (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

summary: you landed your dream job as a line cook at harry styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.

words: 4.3k

warnings: nothing major in this one

Your palms were sweating as you gripped the steering wheel, driving through downtown Chicago towards your new job. You kept glancing down at the address on the printed directions, double checking that you were heading the right way. The last thing you wanted was to be late on your first day.

Ever since getting your culinary degree, you had applied to what felt like hundreds of restaurant jobs, desperate to get your foot in the door of a real professional kitchen. But very few places wanted to hire someone so fresh out of school with no actual experience.

Finally, after months of dead ends, you had landed a line cook position at Haus Kitchen - one of the hottest farm-to-table restaurants in the city. You could scarcely believe your luck when you got the call saying you were hired.

Haus was the brainchild of Harry Styles, international superstar singer turned chef. After his chart-topping solo music career, Harry had traded in artist life to pursue his lifelong passion for cooking. Using his accumulated wealth, he opened up Haus five years ago to rave reviews, quickly earning a well deserved Michelin star.

You vividly remembered watching Harry's transition from a pop idol to dashing culinary entrepreneur play out in the media. As a teenage girl, you had been obsessed with him during his One Direction days.

Your bedroom walls were plastered with Harry's posters and you had relentlessly played their songs, sighing over his tousled hair and pouty lips. Then as you got older and Harry went solo, your boyband crush evolved into more of an intense celebrity infatuation as he cultivated a cool, rebellious image.

There were countless gossipy blind items about his infamous hellraising, flings with models and socialites, and run-ins with the law. You had followed all the scandalous Harry headlines with rapt attention - from getting papped stumbling out of nightclubs with an endless parade of beautiful women to getting arrested for drug possession outside Soho clubs.

But finally in his late 20s, seemingly bored of rockstar debauchery, Harry had pivoted to reset his image as a knowledgeable culinary entrepreneur. You admired how he transformed from tabloid bad boy into a refined, successful businessman and chef.

He began studying haute cuisine under the tutelage of famous European chefs, traveling abroad to hone his skills further. While continuing to record new musical projects independently, Harry started establishing himself in the culinary world through guest stints on TV cooking shows and food/wine events.

With his brooding good looks, charming personality, and serious culinary chops, the world fell for Harry's new sophisticated image. Before long, he was the subject of breathless puff pieces in food magazines as "the sexiest Renaissance man in the kitchen." It seemed natural when Harry soon opened up his passion project Haus to capitalize on his popularity and love of food.

Now nearing your mid-20s, your teenage fannish obsession had cooled into more of an admiring celebrity crush. You had stayed aware of Harry's journey, but your priorities were focused on graduating culinary school at the top of your class and finding your own big break in the Chicago restaurant scene.

So when you landed a job at Harry's iconic Haus, it almost didn't feel real. Not only would you be working at one of the city's most exclusive spots, but under the same roof as a chef you had admired for ages.

Not that you expected to have any real personal contact with Harry himself, you reminded yourself as you merged onto the exit for downtown. He was an internationally famous mega-celebrity who had to have hundreds of staffers, not to mention being handsomely paid to just be the smiling face of the business while professional kitchen vets like Paul Thomason handled the day-to-day operations.

Still, you had to admit to yourself that a tiny part of you tingled at the mere idea of being in the same building as Harry Styles...hopefully catching a glimpse of that handsome, endlessly charming man in the flesh...

You shook your head dismissively and double checked the directions again, annoyed at getting so easily distracted. This was your big break, your first serious job in the industry. You needed to bring your A-game and focus, not dwell on silly celebrity daydreams.

It was your fantasies of becoming a respected chef that needed to take priority.

You pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant, double checking that you had the address right. The sleek, modern building had a neon "Haus Kitchen" sign glowing over opulent double-door entrances flanked by velvet ropes and cheerful outdoor seating areas.

Taking a steadying breath, you cut the engine and sat for a moment, giving yourself a pep talk. This was it. No more messing around doing coursework or labs - this was the major leagues with all the intensity of a real professional kitchen. You had to bring it all day, every day.

As you climbed out of your beat-up Honda, you smoothed down your spotless new chef's whites, making sure everything looked pressed and presentable. With your knife kit tucked under your arm, you walked towards the entrance with purpose, chin held high.

From the moment you stepped through the doors, it was like being transported into another world. The smell of simmering sauces, roasting meats, and freshly baked bread envaded your senses. Even hours before opening, the energy and hustle for dinner prep was palpable.

Off to the left was the main dining room you had studied photos of online - effortlessly cool with vaulted exposed wooden beam ceilings, brick accents, and casually modern decor. Pendant lighting glowed cozily over tables draped in white linens and rustic chandeliers hung over plush tufted leather banquettes. A lively bar area centered the space, stocked with top-shelf liquors and backed by a dazzling display of custom glassware.

In the distance ahead, you could hear the clamoring of the kitchen in full swing. Your stomach did a nervous flip - this was it. Taking another fortifying breath, you headed through the archway.

You emerged into a large, sleek open kitchen layout, all stainless steel and butcher block islands. Uniformed cooks were buzzing at their stations like a well-oiled machine under the barked commands of an older, stocky man you immediately recognized as Head Chef Paul Thomason.

Despite his gruff reputation, watching Thomason in action was nothing short of mesmerizing. He moved between stations with the easy grace of a conductor, sampling sauces, tweaking seasonings, and directing the workflow with gruff orders. There was no wasted movement or micro-expression as he continually tasted and perfected dishes, alternating between thoughtful contemplation and decisive action.

Though you had only seen Thomason in pictures and television appearances, his fierce focus and mastery were unmistakable. This was what true professional kitchen expertise looked like in the flesh.

Feeling like a mouse that had wandered into the lair of a lion, you hovered near the entrance, uncertain of what to do next. The kitchen team flowed around you in a choreographed dance, deftly ignoring your presence as they prepped and plated flawlessly.

After a few minutes of anxious loitering, the intimidating Thomason seemed to finally notice you. His grizzled features contorted as he scowled, looking you up and down through eyes squinted with decades of kitchen smoke exposure.

"You must be the new kid," he said gruffly, crossing his bulky tattooed arms over his broad chest. Even without raising his voice, Thomason had a rumbling bass that easily carried over the kitchen's clanging din. "Christ, you're shorter than I expected. Think you've got what it takes to keep up around here?"

You nervously clutched your knife kit closer while trying to not look as flustered as you felt. "Y-yes, chef!"

You swallowed hard, hyper aware of everyone around you now watching the interaction. "I, uh...I came ready to work as hard as it takes. Whatever you need from me."

Thomason grunted, squinting at you for another long moment in consideration. Then he jerked his head towards the back. "Get changed out quick and meet me back here in 5. I'll get you started on prep and we'll see what you're made of. Don't keep me waiting."

"Yes, chef!" you responded immediately, wincing at how high your voice had gone up an octave.

Without another word, Thomason turned and strode back into the controlled chaos of the line, immediately redirecting his attention to sauces and garnishes. Letting out a shaky breath, you scurried towards the changing rooms, heart jackhammering.

Well, you were officially in the thick of things now...

You hustled back out to the kitchen, trying not to look frazzled from your rushed change. A young Hispanic line cook spotted you and waved you over to his station.

"You the newbie?" he asked, not unkindly. When you nodded, he jerked his head towards the walk-in refrigerator. "Thomason wants you to start by breaking down some of the produce delivery for prep."

"Got it, thanks," you replied, eager to prove yourself. The line cook gestured you through the door into the immense chilled walk-in.

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the cold, taking in the sights and smells of the impressive stockpile. Shelves upon shelves were stocked with an array of fresh seasonal produce - crates bursting with leafy greens, bushels of root vegetables, flats of vibrantly colored tomatoes, exotic fruits, and mushroom varieties you had only read about.

Your culinary school had humble basics for ingredients, nothing like the bounty of locally-sourced, meticulously selected provisions that Haus Kitchen demanded. You felt a thrill at getting to work with such an extraordinary pantry.

Respirating clouds puffed from your mouth as you scanned the inventory tagging system. You had been taught similar protocols in your food safety courses, but there was something exhilarating about putting that knowledge into practice in a real professional environment.

Grabbing a stack of plastic totes, you made a game plan for which items to start prepping first based on perishability levels and what would be needed for that evening's specials. Though you started out slow at first, you steadily built up a cadence of meticulously cleaning, trimming, and sorting into appropriate storage containers.

By the time Thomason stuck his head in to check on you an hour later, you had developed an efficient system and made solid progress through a mountain of deliveries.

The head chef grunted in approval as he inspected your neat stacks of prepped produce, crossing his arms as he looked you up and down with a critical eye.

"Not bad, kid," he rumbled. "Clearly know which end of a knife to use, at least. C'mon back out, got some protein fabrication for you to tackle next."

You diligently followed Thomason back out to the main kitchen, wiping some sweat from your brow with your sleeve. Despite the industrial cooling system, the heat blazing from the ovens and range tops made the open kitchen feel like a furnace.

As Thomason led you to a stainless steel butcher's block island, you couldn't help but gawk at the array of gleaming knives hanging from magnetic strips overhead. The blades were works of art - sleek, razor sharp, and clearly extremely expensive.

Gesturing you over, Thomason grabbed a boning knife and twirled it deftly before handing it to you. "Let's see how you handle breaking this down."

He gave the block a solid smack with his meaty palm, indicating for you to get started on the glistening slab of beef tenderloin before you. Taking a steadying breath, you gripped the bone-handled knife firmly and leaned over the cutting board.

"Yes chef," you murmured before carefully piercing the thick cut of meat, angling the blade with practiced precision from all your training.

Around you, the kitchen bustled with the usual rattling pans, sizzling ranges, and Thomason's occasional barked orders. But as you fell into the rhythm of deftly separating fat and sinew, the noises began to fade from your awareness.

You were completely focused on your knife work, confidently sawing through the tender flesh as you reduced the tenderloin down to portions and trimmings for other stations to further break down. It was meditative, almost hypnotic, the way you instinctively slid the blade along rendered paths of butchery.

After your initial intimidation of the intense Haus environment, you started to find your groove and calm amidst the choreographed insanity surrounding you. You were so laser-focused on the satisfaction of properly executing each slicing technique that the rest of the kitchen chaos became mere white noise.

You had no idea how long you stayed absorbed in the butchery, but eventually you became aware of a presence at your elbow. Glancing up, you nearly jumped to see Harry Styles watching you work with an unreadable expression, hands shoved into the pockets of his slim-fitting slacks.

His dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the fitted cotton fabric clung to his toned arms and chest, a few chest hairs peeking out of his slightly undone top button. A single necklace rested in the divot between his sculpted collarbones, drawing your eye to the alluring hollow of his throat as he swallowed hard.

You froze mid-slice, mesmerized by watching the tendons in Harry's wrist and forearm flex as his hands flexed restlessly in his trouser pockets. After a beat, his pillowy lips curved into an easy smile, crinkling the delicate crow's feet at the corners of his kaleidoscope green eyes.

"Afternoon," Harry said in that lazy, husky drawl that used to make millions of fans swoon. He flicked his eyes down to your handiwork before bringing them back up to your face. "Looking good there, newbie."

You blinked, not trusting your ears for a moment before realizing with a jolt that Harry was very much real and quite close. Like, unnecessarily close for your over-stimulated brain to handle.

"Uh...I-I, um...th-thank you?" you croaked out, wanting to cringe at how lame you sounded. Get it together, this wasn't the time to geek out–you instructed yourself.

But Harry didn't seem to notice your fumbling, simply giving you a dimpled half-smile before reaching around you to snag a stray piece of trimming from the butcher's block. He inspected it contemplatively before popping it into his mouth, those plump lips wrapping obscenely around the bite as he chewed and ruminated with relish.

"Perfection," he declared after swallowing, shooting you another crooked grin like you were co-conspirators sharing an inside joke. With a subtle wink, Harry pivoted on his boot heel and sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.

As he retreated, you risked a glance down at his form-fitting trousers shamelessly admiring the way the fine fabric cupped the ample curves of his pert backside. Even at his age, Harry Styles had the muscle-toned body of a man decades younger - long, lean muscles taut under golden tanned skin.

You blinked hard and shook your head, annoyed at catching yourself ogling your new boss like a drooling fangirl. Pull it together! This was totally inappropriate and unprofessional. You had zero business daydreaming about someone who gave you your paycheck, no matter how obscenely famous and heartthrob-ishly handsome they were.

Firmly re-focusing on your knife work, you determinedly put Harry from your mind and tried to re-immerse yourself in the rhythm and refuge of the butchery. But the memory of his distractingly lush mouth so close kept replaying over and over, preventing you from recapturing your previous sense of meditative flow.

Dammit, you needed to get a grip! This kind of inappropriate crush on your employer was exactly the kind of silly, immature behavior that would make you look like a unprofessional joke in a serious kitchen environment. Blowing an opportunity like this was not an option.

Later, as you untied your apron strings and joined the team in breaking down the last stations for cleaning at closing, Thomason sidled up alongside you. You braced yourself for more of his typical gruff rebukes or criticisms.

Instead, the veteran chef simply gave you a long, considered look before saying gruffly, "You did good work today, kid. I can already tell you got the stuff to handle it around here if you keep your head down."

You blinked up at him in surprise before managing a small smile. "Thank you, chef. I really appreciate that."

Thomason grunted noncommittally before wandering off, likely to oversee something else. As you tidied your workstation, you couldn't help feeling a small glow of pride. Despite the craziness of your first day, you had seemingly passed this initial trial with flying colors.

As you left through the back entrance into the quiet night air, you took a deep breath and allowed yourself a satisfied smile. Maybe, just maybe, you really did have what it took to succeed in this highly competitive environment after all. For tonight at least, you had handled the punishing pace and standards. Tomorrow was another day to prove yourself all over again.

***

Your day started before sunrise the next morning, brewing a strong coffee and reviewing the notes you had taken the previous evening about which menu items needed prepping. By the time you arrived at Haus, reinvigorated by the crisp morning air, the kitchen was already a hive of activity in preparation for lunch service.

The intense scrutiny under which you worked only amplified with the daylight. Every slice, every sauté was carried out under the watchful eyes of Chef Thomason and his steely gaze. More than once, you felt his presence looming over your shoulder, inspecting your work with the same critical eye as a diamond cutter examining a flawless gem.

"This slice is uneven," he barked, startling you. You flinched, resisting the urge to make excuses as he continued, "The portions all need to be identical for plating. Paying attention to details like that is the difference between a sloppy meal and a stellar one. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, chef," you replied tightly, making a minor adjustment to your knife work. Though his words stung, you had to admit Thomason was completely right. In a restaurant of this caliber, any minor imperfection could spell disaster.

You redoubled your efforts, pouring all of your concentration into each preparation, each plate. By the time the end of your shift rolled around, you were drenched in sweat, your feet screaming from being on them for 12 hours straight. But you had successfully made it through day two without any major mishaps.

As the whirlwind of dinner service finally calmed to a stopping point, you stood in the kitchen obediently waiting for Thomason's inspection and inevitable critique. But to your surprise, he merely gave a curt nod of approval before waving you off.

"Not bad, newbie," he grunted. "Get a good night's rest. We'll need you back bright and early tomorrow."

Those few gruff words of acceptance warmed you more than any high praise could have. For Thomason, a man of very few words, his small nod seemed to indicate you were, for the moment, living up to his exceedingly high standards.

The high from that small victory buoyed your spirits as you made your way towards the back exit, already dreaming of the few hours of sleep you might be able to grab before starting the cycle over again. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you nearly bowled someone over coming around a corner.

"Whoa there!"

You froze, looking up into the grinning, mirthful eyes of Harry Styles himself. Up close, the force of his charm and magnetism practically crackled in the air around him like a physical force. His sweater clung distractingly to his lithe, muscular frame and his chestnut hair was casually tousled. A pair of small diamond studs glinted in each ear.

"Sorry about that, H-Harry," you stammered, resisting the urge to take a flustered step back. You were vividly aware of just how little physical space separated the two of you. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

If he noticed your frazzled state up close, Harry didn't let on. His pink lips merely curved in an easy, dimpled smile. "No need to apologize. I don't usually make a habit of lurking around blind corners, to be fair."

You laughed before you could stop yourself, surprised at how easily he was putting you at ease despite your elevated heart rate. Up close, Harry's eyes weren't just green - an entire kaleidoscope of colors ranging from jade to emerald to amber seemed to shift and dance in his gaze. It was...dazzling, frankly.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to take a subtle step backwards, putting a more professional amount of space between the two of you. The last thing you needed was to do something wildly inappropriate that would get you fired before the end of your first week.

"Still, I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings," you replied, aiming for a respectful, levelheaded tone. "It's been a really intense couple of days just trying to stay on top of everything."

Harry nodded in understanding, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. "Thomason hasn't let up on you at all, I take it?"

When you shook your head ruefully, he chuckled. "I know that seems like his permanent state - gruff, perpetually unsatisfied, and grumpy as a hibernating bear. But honestly, the fact that he hasn't fired you already is a good sign you're doing well."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait...really? But he critiques everything! I feel like I've gotten nothing but corrections so far."

"Exactly." Harry's dimples flashed as he grinned. "That's how you know he sees potential in you. If Thomason didn't think you had what it took, he wouldn't waste his breath giving feedback. He'd just cut you loose and hire someone else to start over."

His words were like a soothing balm on the anxiety and self-doubt you'd been carrying around for the past couple of days. You hadn't realized that Thomason's critical approach was actually a twisted form of acceptance and mentorship. The revelation caused the hard knot of tension between your shoulder blades to finally release.

"Huh," you exhaled, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you finally understood Thomason's tough love. "I guess I should take that as a compliment then."

"Absolutely," Harry agreed with an approving nod. Then his expression softened around the edges, growing earnest as his gaze searched yours. "Look, I know it's a huge adjustment and the pace here can be absolutely brutal starting out. But for what it's worth...I think you've got what it takes to be something really special in this kitchen."

You felt yourself flush at his unexpected praise, your stomach fluttering with a swarm of nervous butterflies. Harry held your eyes for a lingering moment before seeming to mentally collect himself.

Clearing his throat, he flashed you one more crooked grin. "But don't take my word for it - the proof will be in your work. Stay focused and trust the process. I've got faith you can handle it."

With that, he brushed past you, his shoulder grazing yours in a way that made your entire body buzz with friction. As Harry sauntered off down the hallway, you couldn't stop yourself from turning to watch his retreating form - the easy, rolling gait, the tantalizing sway of his hips below the slim cut of his trousers, the tousled waves of his chestnut hair.

You let out a shaky exhale, feeling off-balance and electrified all at once. Get a grip, you scolded yourself firmly. That was your boss - your incredibly famous, wealthy, and wildly attractive boss. Daydreaming was a one-way ticket to catching inappropriate feelings and potentially torpedoing your entire career before it even started.

And yet...you couldn't quite silence the part of your brain reliving Harry's velvet tone and intense eye contact as he professed having faith in your abilities. Just the casual warmth of his voice and proximity had set your heart pounding in a way it hadn't since you were a hormonal teenager, utterly dazzled by his rock star persona.

Shaking your head, you forced yourself to turn on your heel and head for the exit. Overthinking could only lead to dangerous territory. You needed to stay laser-focused on your work - that was the only way to succeed at Haus and make your culinary dreams a reality.

As you stepped out into the fresh evening air, you paused for a moment on the deserted back stoop, closing your eyes and taking a few centering breaths. When you opened them again, you felt the last fluttering tendrils of Harry's heated presence dissipate, replaced by a familiar sense of determined calm.

This job was your priority now, not silly schoolgirl crushes or indulging fantasies about your wildly unattainable boss. You knew better than to get distracted by daydreams that could only lead to self-sabotage.

With a decisive nod, you strode towards your car with renewed focus. You would prove yourself at Haus through your skills and work ethic alone. No other agenda, no unprofessional entanglements allowed.

Your passion was cuisine, creating nourishing dishes that delighted - that had to remain your sole priority. You couldn't afford any distractions from that lest you squander this incredible opportunity. Steadying your breathing, you looked forward with fresh clarity and resolve.

Tomorrow was a new day to earn your place in Harry's formidable kitchen. And this time, you vowed, you were utterly prepared to meet the challenge with your complete and undivided focus.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! this is an idea for a new series that will probably have 6 parts??? i guess. but do tell me if you like it! because there's no use in writing when nobody reads 😭😭

feedback | masterlist

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@tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge

@mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld @chesthairrry @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @hisparentsgallerryy @harryhitties @storyschanging @selluequestrian @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777

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sansaorgana · 2 months

Note

what if benny heard his girl’s friend telling her about how she deserves better. he then notices his gf distancing herself from him because she starts having doubts about their relationship, and he’s not about to let her go that easily

hello 💚 thank you for your request! it turned out to be quite long (nearly 4,5k words) 😌 Benny & Reader are kinda toxic here lol 🤣 but in the movie he was such a red flag sometimes and his relationship with Kathy wasn't that healthy either, so I felt like exploring that trope. it has a happy ending, though! 💒

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

Whenever you were out with your friends, Benny was a big part of your conversations. They were either single or they dated boring men and you couldn’t help but brag a little to them about taming a man like Benny Cross.

Of course, sometimes you were jealous of the stability your friends had. But with Benny it was never boring and you had never had so many wild stories to tell before meeting him. You wore one of his rings proudly and with as much pride you had the Vandals Chicago small patch on your jeans jacket.

And today was no different – you arrived at Molly's place a little bit late by the bus but Benny was supposed to pick you up later. You fixed your hair and your jacket before getting inside the apartment building after some older lady who was walking inside. She looked you up and down and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the patch or the leather pants but you didn’t care either way. You were only wearing trousers these days because sitting in the back of the bike in a skirt or a dress was far from comfortable.

You knocked upon Molly’s door and she opened with a smile but you couldn’t help but notice that the way she looked at you was similar to the old lady’s gaze. And when you walked to the living room and waved at your other friends, they suddenly went quiet, which only meant one thing – they had been talking about you.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Barbara greeted you. “Has your boyfriend dropped you off?”

You furrowed your brows at her oddly mocking tone as other girls tried to hide a giggle.

“Hi, Barbs. No, he hasn’t,” you answered, pretending you hadn’t caught the rude undertone of her question. You sat on the armchair because you didn’t want to sit next to them on the couch.

Molly sat back there, right next to Ursula. On Barbara’s other side sat Susie.

“So, how’s life? What’s up?” You asked as usual, tapping your fingers on the wooden armrest of the armchair.

You hadn’t seen them in two months and they were your friends since high school. You were naturally interested in hearing their stories.

“Well, I got engaged!” Ursula announced and showed you the ring. Your eyes widened and you gave her a smile.

“Wow, ‘sula, that’s crazy. Congratulations, babe,” you winked at her. “That ring must have cost a fortune!”

“It certainly has. But you know, Dickie’s in the finance,” she reminded you but there was something contemptuous in her voice.

“I remember,” you only nodded. “When’s the wedding?”

“In July, we think,” Ursula answered. “I’m currently dress hunting. I was in the store the other day with the girls and…” She started and then she stopped talking as the other hissed at her.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Wait, what?” You raised an eyebrow. “You guys are seeing each other without me?” You swallowed thickly and waited for their answer.

It made sense, suddenly. Because you had used to meet every two weeks. But some time ago they had started to come with excuses that they were too busy to meet so often. Now the meetings were taking place once every two months. But… Perhaps it was this way only for you.

The girls looked at each other.

“Oh, please, (Y/N), it was only once,” Barbara quickly spoke up. “You were busy that day anyway. We knew about it so we didn’t even ask you.”

“How did you know I was busy?” You asked.

“We read in the paper that there had been a motorbike accident in the area. We assumed you were at the hospital,” Ursula explained and you nearly snorted at her stupid lie.

She was always the worst at coming up with lies on the go.

“This accident had nothing to do with Benny or anyone in our club for that matter,” you told her although you were sure there had been no accident even.

“Well, we thought…” Ursula started.

“Our club, huh?” Susie suddenly giggled. She was usually the quiet one but it made her pretty observant and she would always pick on the words.

You cracked a smile at that.

“Are you learnin’ how to drive a motorbike now? Is he gettin’ you one as well?” Molly teased.

“No,” you answered. “Anyway…” You tried to change the subject. “July is in three months. I gotta start hunting for a dress for the occasion, too. Is there a dress code?” You asked Ursula.

Ursula looked down and started to fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

“Actually…” Barbara took a deep breath in. “Ursula would like to tell you something but she’s scared…”

“So… We will do it for her,” Molly nodded.

You already knew what it was about and you tried your best to keep your smile on although all you wanted to was to cry.

Not even because you were losing the friendship of these girls – they were clearly treating you like shit anyway – but because it all felt so… humiliating. As if you were the village’s outcast all of the sudden. A local pariah.

“I’m not invited?” You crossed your arms.

“No! It’s not like that!” Ursula protested as she looked up to meet your gaze. “It’s… It’s about Benny. I don’t want him at my wedding. So… If you want to come, you are welcome to come alone,” she finished.

“Well, I’ll see if I can come. In July we are going for vacation anyway. The dates might interfere,” you explained with a shrug of your arms. That was a lie.

“Vacation? With Benny? Where?” Susie seemed to be interested now.

“A trip to Florida where his cousin lives,” you explained. At least that part about his cousin was true.

“Florida… Nice…” Barbara sighed and Molly pushed her with her elbow.

For the rest of the meeting, you were silent. Nodding your head at the things the girls were saying and faking laughs here and there, already coming up with the lies to tell them when they’d ask about you but… They never asked.

When they were in the middle of talking about some stupid movie, you all got startled at the sudden sound of the loud engine. All the girls gave you a dirty look as you chuckled.

“Sorry,” you put your hands up in the air. “It’s Benny. I gotta go now. It was nice to catch up with you,” you stood up and waved at them before going to the hall.

You didn’t feel like hugging them or anything like that. You just wanted to be out of the flat.

However, Molly followed you.

“I’ll walk you outside,” she proposed and you furrowed your brows at her but you nodded. She was your closest friend out of them all.

You took the lift downstairs and walked out of the apartment building. Benny’s motorbike was parked on the opposite side of the parking lot. He was leaning on it and smoking a cigarette.

“Wanna say hello to him?” You asked Molly, squinting your eyes at the sun as you put your hand over your forehead to create a shadow.

“Nah, I’m fine, babe,” Molly shook her head and put her hands inside the pockets of her cardigan. “But, you know, I gotta tell you something…” She continued to walk in the direction of Benny’s motorbike but her steps were small as her voice lowered.

“What is it?”

“You know I like you, (Y/N). I don’t like what’s happened to us. I mean, our friend’s group. You know why and what… Who is the reason,” Molly cleared her throat. “You’ve changed, too.”

“Shouldn’t it matter that I’m happy?” You asked her.

“But… Are you? Darling, is there any future in that?” She glanced at Benny who was observing you carefully but you were sure he was standing too far away to hear the whispers. “I just think you deserve better. We all do. Think about that, will you, doll?” Molly patted your arm before squeezing it in a friendly way and waving at you.

She turned around to hurry back inside the building right before the distance was close enough to greet Benny. It looked like she was avoiding him on purpose and she wasn’t even hiding that. It was rude.

You sighed and turned around to smile at your boyfriend.

“Hi, daddy-o. Sorry for making you wait,” you winked at him playfully. “Where are you takin’ me tonight?” You fixed his jacket and kissed his lips when he was not taking a drag of his cigarette.

“There’s a bonfire,” Benny mumbled out. “Hop on,” he pointed at the motorbike.

Benny’s hearing was not perfect after all the years of getting slaughtered by the roaring sound of the motorbikes’ engines. But he was an excellent lip reader – it was one of those useful skills he had learnt over the years. Benny was not a man of many words and he usually preferred to observe the environment around him. Reading lips was helpful for that.

You had been standing with your back turned to him so he had no idea what you had been answering to your friend’s words but he knew perfectly well what that girl had been saying. And then she had just looked him up and down and turned around, without even saying hi. Not that he cared to get a hi from a girl like her. And not that he wasn’t used to people treating him this way.

Still, it had planted an insecurity in his head. And now, during the bonfire, you were acting weird, too.

The sun was slowly going down on that day and a huge bonfire had been lit up. One of the guys had taken their radio and played rock and roll songs. There was lots of beer and a small barbecue and everything smelled like alcohol, sweat, meat and gasoline. After having a few beers, lots of boys were showing off their motorbike tricks, including jumping over the fire. The atmosphere was full of testosterone but most girls didn’t mind that. To date a biker, you had to be used to that. Constant risk, constant danger, constant adrenaline. You were sitting by the bonfire and watching the motorbike tricks as you were sipping on your diet coke through the straw. Benny was smoking a cigarette by one of the cars while he talked to his friends but he kept his eye on his girl and he knew you well enough to see that while the other girls were gossiping next to you, you didn't really pay attention as you were clearly dissociating.

When he finished his cigarette, he walked up to you and tugged on the sleeve of your jacket to make you stand up and follow him inside the house but you shrugged him off and looked away. Benny furrowed his brows but he didn’t give up.

“(Y/N), baby, come on,” he whined a little.

“Gee, Benny,” you rolled your eyes before looking up. “Can’t you see I’m talking to the girls?” You pointed out but the girls looked at you; confused at your words since you had been doing nothing but ignoring them for the past hour.

“I wanna talk to ya,” Benny insisted and you sighed.

“Excuse me, darlings,” you told the girls and put your empty bottle of soda on the ground before standing up and facing Benny.

You followed him in the direction of the house but instead of walking inside, Benny guided you to walk behind, where there was no one around.

“What is it?” You raised your eyebrow at him as you leaned on the wall behind you.

“I’m just wonderin’ why you’re acting like that,” Benny scratched himself behind his neck.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” Benny repeated and shrugged his arms. “Dunno, as if I have done somethin’ wrong. Have I?”

“No,” you answered but the answer was very fast and nearly harsh. “No…” You repeated and took a deep breath in as your face softened. “I’m just… That meeting with my friends was weird and I’m overthinkin’ some stuff. That’s it,” you explained. “‘sula’s getting married, you know?” You looked down and played with your foot, drawing circles on the ground with your boot.

Benny’s heart skipped a beat at the word married.

“Yeah?” He asked, trying to look into your eyes but you kept your gaze low.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “However, I ain’t invited,” you turned your head to look away as you crossed your arms.

“What? Why?” Benny furrowed his brow. He couldn’t understand that. He thought that you were pretty close to those girls.

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered and looked into his eyes. “I was thinkin’... Maybe we could go to Florida in July? To your cousin? I need a vacation, Benny.”

“Florida’s far away,” Benny shook his head. “The guys need me here.”

“Only for a short time…”

“Nah,” Benny insisted. “We can have a weekend by the lake if ya want to.”

“No,” you sighed. “Listen, I’m tired today, ‘kay?”

“‘kay,” Benny nodded awkwardly and hid his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “Wanna go home?”

“Yeah.”

Benny hoped that your odd behaviour would change on the next day but it did not. In the morning he didn’t find you in bed and when he walked downstairs, you were already dressed up and drinking coffee by the kitchen window.

“You up already?” He asked, surprised. “Workin’ today?”

“No. I just couldn’t sleep,” you told him without looking at him.

“What’s for breakfast?” He asked and looked around the kitchen.

“I had pancakes. You can have whatever you want,” you pointed out and he was a bit taken aback by that response.

Not that he minded making breakfast for himself but you had always been doing it for him ever since he moved to your place.

“Are you angry at me, kitty?” Benny asked, carefully, as he approached the fridge to take a look inside to see what he could eat.

He decided on scrambled eggs as he grabbed a few from the fridge. He put some butter on the pan and heated it up but there was still no answer from you.

“Kitty?” He cleared his throat and turned his head around to look at you.

You took one last sip of your coffee and stood up with a sigh. You put the coffee cup inside the sink and walked past him.

“I’m going to spend a day with my ma,” you told him.

“With your ma?” Benny furrowed his brows. He didn’t like it when you were going to your mum.

Not because he had something against you spending time with your family. But he knew that your mum absolutely hated his guts and she was begging you to dump him each time you were seeing her. For you to meet with her today – a day after your friend had told you that you deserved better… Well, it was not looking good for Benny.

“Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” you told him and then you left the kitchen. A few seconds later, he heard the front door closing.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered to himself.

It was late afternoon, nearly evening already, when you came back home. Now, after the meeting with your mum, your head was full of doubts and insecurities about your relationship.

You loved Benny but was it possible that this relationship was really a doomed affair? All your friends were leaving you behind and treating you like your Vandals patch was a scarlet letter. Your mother was begging you all the time to leave Benny behind because he was “no good for you, baby”. It was annoying but she had every reason to be worried – Benny was trouble. He cost you a lot of money, too, when it came to the lawyers, hospitals and the bills. He didn’t even have a steady job. And all of that for what…? There was not even a ring on your fucking finger.

He would drive around all day and then get drunk at the bonfires. That was all he wanted to do. Was he even treating you seriously? Was he planning to settle down with you? That was doubtful.

You walked inside the house and closed the door loudly behind you before going to the bathroom to wash your hands. Then you took a deep sigh at the sight of your tired face in the mirror and you went inside the living room where Benny was watching TV. He looked up at you and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his baby blue eyes that looked extremely sad.

“Hi, baby. Had a good day?” He asked.

“Yeah. You?” You kept standing above him.

“Not really,” Benny admitted. “But, hey, it doesn’t matter, yeah? I called my cousin,” he told you and you raised an eyebrow. “I asked him if we could visit him in July and he said that it’s fine.”

Benny swallowed thickly and waited for your response, staring up at you like a puppy. You took a deep breath in and eventually nodded at him with a sigh before sitting next to him on the couch.

“What you watchin’?” You asked him.

“Some stupid movie,” he shrugged. “You happy about Florida?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

But just because he had done something like this once, it didn’t mean that everything was suddenly okay.

“You haven’t worn your jacket with the patch today,” Benny pointed out awkwardly.

“My ma would kill me!” You chuckled at that with an eye-roll.

Long silence occurred after that. You were both staring at the TV and only pretending to watch the movie. Eventually, Benny moved in closer and put his arm around you. You flinched a little bit but you didn’t move away as your eyes filled with tears.

You loved him. You wanted this relationship to work but... Sometimes love was not enough. Especially when only one person was putting effort.

“I’m sorry I’m not good enough for ya, baby,” Benny whispered into your ear and you froze at his words. He kissed your cheek delicately and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m tryin’ my best,” he assured you. “But your friend was right. You deserve better.”

“Benny? What are you talking about? You heard Molly?” You turned your head around and lifted his chin to look up at you.

“Nah. I can read from the lips,” he shrugged and your heart pounded faster in your chest. “Don’t worry, I ain’t angry at ya. She was right. I’m just angry at her for making you realise that.”

You clenched your jaw, not knowing what to say. Somehow, you wanted to comfort him but… There were some things you wanted to say first.

“It’s not your fault. You’re just this way,” you caressed his cheek gently. “I don’t think you’re not enough. Maybe it’s me asking for too much. I knew who you were and what you were like when I took you in. I should have known what to expect,” you shrugged. “You’re just…” Your voice trembled and Benny furrowed his brows at you. “You’re just gonna drive away one day, right?”

“What are you talking about?” He shook his head.

“You’re a free spirit, Benny. You’re just gonna hop on the bike and disappear and I’ll be left with the mess to clean and the pieces to pick up. And I was trying not to get too attached but I have. And in return… In return you can’t even make me breakfast. Not even once!” You suddenly snapped as his eyes widened. “I wake up in the morning and make you breakfast every day. I go to work and earn money… Just to spend it later on some shitty lawyers after you get arrested, feeling guilty that I can’t afford a better one. Jesus, and now I can’t even go to my friend’s wedding just because she doesn’t want you there and, guess what, I don’t want to go there alone!” You raised your voice but then you sniffled your tears back and softened again. “I just… I just wish I knew that you were as serious about me as I am about you. That’s it.”

Benny moved uncomfortably and moved his arm away from your shoulder. He took a deep breath in and nodded his head.

“Ya think I’m just gonna drive away one day and leave you without a word?” He asked. “I mean… Yeah, I might. Because I’m clearly a burden. I’m gonna leave, that’s gonna be for the better,” he agreed with you but you could see his jaw clenching and eyes blinking away the fresh tears.

“I didn’t say that you were a burden, Benny,” you tried to explain but he stood up already and went up the stairs.

You followed him and you caught him packing his bag in your bedroom. You leaned on the doorframe and watched him.

“You can’t be serious, Benny. Why can’t we just have a normal conversation about it instead of you running away from the responsibility? You’re kinda provin’ my point at the moment, you know that?” You told him.

“Don’t wanna be a burden,” he insisted and you took a deep breath in before approaching him.

You put your hands on his arms and he flinched a little but he didn’t push you off. However, he kept on packing his things.

“Benny, baby, please, let’s just talk about it, okay?” You tried to talk to him in a soft voice as if he was a wild animal.

In many ways, he was.

“I even called my cousin an’ all that!” He suddenly turned around to look into your eyes. He was visibly angry but at the same time his eyes were glossy. “You wanted a fuckin’ vacation in Florida, so I called and got us a fuckin’ vacation,” he added.

“And I am grateful, baby, I am,” you assured him and placed your hands on his chest. You felt how fast his heart was beating and you caressed him there as if you were trying to soothe his heartbeat itself. “But that’s just… That’s like one time when you show me you’re treatin’ me serious.”

“I’m not treatin’ you serious enough, you say, huh?” Benny straightened his back and looked down at you. “But if I asked you to marry me, you wouldn’t say yes, right? ‘Cuz I ain’t no good enough, am I right?”

You were taken aback by those words. You blinked a few times, very slowly.

“Wha-what are you talking about, Benny?” You tilted your head.

“I wanna make you my wife,” he answered, seriously. “Wanted you as my Mrs. ever since I saw ya,” he confessed. “But I ain’t good enough…” He shook his head and looked away. “And I’ll never be for ya.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as well. You bit on your lower lip and focused hard on overthinking his words. Suddenly, all your insecurities and doubts had disappeared. Your whole body was filled with butterflies.

Gee, yeah, he was… Different from the most. But he was special, too. And he was your Benny. You would never trade him for a man like Patrick for example – Ursula’s fiancé in finance. You would die of boredom with a guy like him. With Benny even those arguments that you were having with him were exciting. The way he was packing his bags or you were threatening to leave every other day, the way you were smashing plates sometimes, the way a phone call from the police station would wake you up in the middle of the night... It was making you feel alive.

“Oh, Benny!” You felt tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks and he looked at you again, confused. “Yes!” You jumped into his arms and he picked you up instinctively. “Yes, yes, yes!” You added and cupped his face to pepper it with dozens of tiny little kisses. “I’m gonna marry you, baby! Even tomorrow! Even now!”

Benny chuckled at that and kissed your lips properly as you put your hands behind his neck.

“So, you just wanted a ring, my moody kitty, huh?” He teased playfully and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

You arrived at Molly’s place and knocked upon the door, fixing your jeans jacket. She opened the door and invited you in as usual.

It was a month since your last meeting with the girls. They looked you up and down as usual these days but then they furrowed their brows at the sight of your huge grin. Molly entered the living room behind you and took a seat on the couch, looking up at you with a questioning look.

“I have something to tell you,” you told them with a smug smile.

They looked at each other.

“You dumped him?” Barbara asked, excitedly.

“He knocked you up?” Molly, on the other hand, was rather scared.

“Don’t be daft. She wouldn’t be so happy then!” Susie pointed out. Clever as usual.

“I got married!” You exclaimed and showed them your hand with two new additions. A pretty engagement ring that you had chosen for yourself in the pawn shop and a brand new wedding band.

You watched with satisfaction how their mouths dropped. Ursula especially seemed to be butthurt, since you had managed to get married before her.

“And how’s dress hunting, ‘sula?” You teased her.

“I still don’t have a dress,” she admitted. You could see her jaw clenching. “And what were you wearing?”

“A short babydoll,” you answered and sat on the armchair nonchalantly.

“Why haven’t you told us?!” Molly asked and you looked at her as if she was crazy.

“Sorry, but… I don’t know how to say it… Benny and the other guys from the club…” You pretended to sound sad. “Well, they didn’t want you girls around, I hope you understand. No outsiders, you know,” you told them.

It was a lie, of course. None of them would have minded your friends coming. But the wedding had taken place a day after your argument with Benny anyway. There had been no time to send out invitations.

“That’s crazy,” Susie commented and you gave her a smug look.

“Gonna tell you somethin’ crazier,” you chuckled and she raised her eyebrows, curiously. “He got my name tatted right on his heart.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*benny #austin butler x reader #benny cross x reader #lilysfiction

342 notes · View notes

btsvt-bar · 7 months

Text

FEVER

pairing ꩜ journalist!mingyu x afab!reader x journalist!wonwoo

synopsis ꩜ a promotion at work, the new political reporter and a few bottles of wine. writing for a prestigious newspaper can be much more exciting than it seems. it all depends on who your co-workers are.

content/genre ꩜ frenemies with benefits, threesome, smut (18+ mdni)

author's note ꩜ not proofread . comments are apreciated! lmk if you wanna be tagged on part 2 ♡

warnings under the cut!

part one | part two

warnings ꩜ smut, threesome, anal sex, oral (m. receiving), masturbation (f. and m. receiving), cum swallowing, double penetration, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex, sex in the workplace, voyeurism, tit sucking, jacuzzi sex, protected sex. lmk if i forgot something important.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

chapter one

The newsroom of the largest newspaper in the city of Chicago and the Great Lakes region was exactly what one could expect: true chaos. Phones ringing all the time, people talking loudly, papers scattered in the corners, journalists typing at full speed to deliver their articles in time… the place was a huge mess, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

You walk quickly among the dozens of tables scattered irregularly across the 6th floor of the building. Being the responsible for the entertainment and arts column, you needed to submit an unfinished article in less than two hours.

The click of your white scarpins were practically inaudible over the cacophony of the room. A little out of breath, you arrive at your table and drop your red bag on the dark wooden tabletop with an audible thump, drawing Kim Mingyu's attention.

The black-haired man looks away from the screen in front of him and starts analyzing your outfit. From the pants tight enough to outline your ass perfectly, the refined silk blouse showing just enough cleavage and the small crucifix that rested near your throat. Mingyu lets out a sigh, he hadn't been with you in bed for three hours and he already wanted to drag you back.

"Did you lose something here on my desk, Kim?" you question in a mocking tone when you notice him staring. Of course you wouldn't miss the opportunity to tease him.

"Not really" he responds by getting up and slowly approaching you. A roguish smile tugs at his mouth. "You, on the other hand, lost a pair of lace panties at my place."

"Mingyu!" you shriek and slap the man's strong chest.

"Relax, darling. No one listened." he informs with a wink. "Would you like a coffee? You look tired, didn't you sleep well?"

The worst part of spending the night with him was his inflated ego the next day.

"You are ridiculous."

In a completely childish act, you throw him a middle finger. Mingyu laughs and leaves to grab a coffee for the two of you.

If one asked any Chicago Tribune employee who y/n y/l/n and Kim Mingyu are, they would, undoubtedly, say "the biggest rivals who have ever worked here".

The two of you had been on the newspaper's journalistic team since the beginning of college. You started together as interns, and since then fought like cat and dog. You weren’t sure, but you thought your enmity started with an argument in the archives room. You just knew that "hating" Kim Mingyu in front of everyone was as natural as breathing.

What most people didn't know was that you don’t replicate Tom & Jerry's behavior when you are alone. Protected from curious eyes, you enjoyed your time in a much more pleasurable way.

Literally.

You hated the term "friends with benefits" to describe what you had with Mingyu. Yes, you were friends outside of work. And yes, you had sex occasionally. But you hated people's need to label things, so you preferred to think of Mingyu as just a friend. The "frenemies" dynamic worked well, both sides were comfortable with it.

And that was enough for now.

"I already added sugar. Two small spoons, right? "Mingyu declares as he approaches to hand over the mug filled with steaming coffee.

"Yes, thank you." you offer a grateful smile and take a small sip of the dark liquid.

You weren’t even surprised that he knew how you had your coffee, you’ve had many breakfasts together.

"Good morning!" Yunjin, your best friend, greets you with a beaming smile. "Have you seen Dino?" the youngest questions as she approaches you. "I need to get a file from his computer."

You look back at your friend's table and notice his backpack on the sideboard, but the man himself was nowhere to be found.

"Lipinski asked him to go to her office about twenty minutes ago." Mingyu responds without looking away from the computer screen. "I have no idea why."

You frown at the information.

"Weird." Yunjin comments when turning on her own computer.

"He’ll be back" you state with a shrug.

"Is he being fired?" Yunjin freaks out.

"He wasn't fired. "Mingyu laughs, amused by the situation.

"And how are you so sure?"

Mingyu points something behind you. You turn your head in sync with Yunjin, and see Dino walking towards the three of you. And he wasn't alone.

The man accompanying Dino wore a black suit, white t-shirt and a dark blue tie with white stripes. He was taller than Dino by a good few inches and, even in a suit, it was noticeable that he took care of his physique and probably went to the gym regularly. However, what left you and Yunjin flustered was his beauty.

"Guys, meet our new political journalist." Dino introduces the man.

"Jeon Wonwoo." says as he extends his hand to Yunjin, who was closer to him.

"Yunjin, fashion and lifestyle." the woman introduces herself by taking his hand.

Wonwoo addresses you with expectation in his eyes. His eyes, you notice, are striking and intense. The kind that seems to be able to read your soul with just one look.

"y/n, entertainment and arts."

Suddenly, you feel like the room is too hot.

Maybe it was because of the man in front of you, who was undeniably handsome and seemed too good to be true. Or maybe it was his baritone voice. You hadn't expected the deep, husky tone that came out of his full, heart-shaped lips.

You bite her lower lip to contain a sigh and shake his hand eagerly.

"Mingyu, sports." His face contorts a little, as if he’d already decided that he didn't like Wonwoo.

"Nice to meet you all" Wonwoo says with a friendly smile and adjusts his glasses over his elegant nose.

"Your table should arrive tomorrow." Dino says, drawing everyone’s attention. "You can use mine for today, I'm going to do some field work and I'll be out all day." the youngest explains as he gathers his belongings and puts them inside his backpack. "Now, I need to take you to HR. Let 's go".

Wonwoo agrees and leaves his backpack on the table. The two head to the elevator hall with Dino explaining more about how the newsroom works.

"I call dibs!" you exclaim as soon as you’re sure Wonwoo can’t hear you.

"Hey, not fair!" Yunjin whimpers.

"You already have Dino"

"And you already have Mingyu."

"Dibs… on what?" Mingyu raises his eyebrow when asking. He wasn't even sure if he even wanted to know what the two of you were talking about.

"To fuck him." Yunjin responds as if it was obvious, gesturing with her hand at the same time. "The new guy is pretty hot, if you ask me."

"Your bad taste scares me."

Mingyu's handsome features contort into a frown. He knew he had no right to be jealous of you, but he couldn't help it. It was difficult, even more so when it directly affected his ego. The thought that he might no longer be the only one to have your attention made him slightly irritated.

"Are you jealous?" you tease as you give the man a knowing look.

"He's dying of jealousy." Yunjin says in disbelief. "I never thought I would see Kim Mingyu like this."

"In your dreams, darlings." he says with a mocking tone and goes back to work. "I need to finish my article".

You exchange a glance with Yunjin and you two let out an amused laugh. You take a sip of your almost cold coffee and risk one last look in Mingyu's direction.

The man was frowning and pouting like a toddler being denied something for the first time.

"Don’t be like that. I promise you’ll always be my favorite." you smile flirtatiously.

Totally out of character, Mingyu offers a shy smile.

"You make it sound so sweet when you lie to me" he snorts and you laugh at the comment, finding the whole situation funny as hell.

Everyone returns to their tasks, but the slight irrational jealousy remains in Mingyu’s thoughts. He lets out an unhappy sigh, feeling extremely stupid.

The brunette takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to refocus on finishing the basketball game schedule he needed to deliver. For now, that’s all he could do.

chapter two

It was Wednesday and the Chicago Tribune newsroom was practically empty. You, Mingyu, Wonwoo and two other journalists were the only ones there.

You feel like you’re being watched and look around, finding Mingyu staring from his desk, his bottom lip casually caught between his teeth. You could practically hear his mind engines turning.

You were very angry at him the night before. Out of jealousy, Mingyu was a total dick to you and to Wonwoo at the company dinner. However, after you shouted at him for around 20 minutes and he fingered you in the backseat of his car, you calmed down a bit. You still pretended to be mad, but you weren’t one to really hold on to grudges.

"I need your help in the archives room. "Mingyu says, shaking you out of your own thoughts.

"Is it difficult for you to find a file on your own?" you tease, tilting your head mockingly.

Mingyu smirks.

"It would be easier if the person who organized it had a decent system, my dear." he teases, remembering why you supposedly hated each other. The man gets up and says: "Let's go, I don't have all day".

You roll your eyes at him, but stand up anyways. He leads the way, and the two of you leave an unaware Wonwoo behind.

Mingyu opens the heavy wooden door and lets you get in first. The lights flickered a few times before stabilizing. Several silver shelves filled with white folders were scattered around the place, as well as some wooden tables and chairs. In the right corner, they had a copy machine and other stationery items that could help journalists' research.

You walk a few inches to the first shelf and only then realize that Mingyu didn't say what he was looking for. "What do you want to find?"

"Archives about the 1958 World Cup."

"Hm... I don't know if we'll have much on the subject" you state as you walk towards the shelves at the end of one of the aisles. "This is the stupidest thing to find around here, why would you even… " you’re cut off when Mingyu turns you around to face him.

He presses you against the low sideboard against the back wall of the room. Your eyes widened, not understanding what was happening. Mingyu runs his large hand across your cheek. He wets his lips, staring at yours eagerly.

"Is it okay if I say ‘shut up and kiss me’?"

You roll your eyes, but grab the man by his tie and pull him in for a kiss. Mingyu lets out a sound of approval, satisfied with your attitude. He lifts you and places you on the sideboard, positioning himself between your legs.

Mingyu raises his hands to your ass and squeezes hard, bringing you even closer. You tangle a hand in his hair, while the other one lightly scratches his nape just the way you knew he liked. Your tongues caress each other with dexterity, having already done this hundreds of times.

The kiss wasn't at a desperate pace with a hint of anger, like it was the last time you hooked up. It seemed like Mingyu wanted to prove a point. He kissed you as if he wanted to mark you as his. And you loved it. The world seemed to disappear when you kissed like that. An earthquake could happen, none of you would notice.

The man separates your lips and starts distributing wet kisses across your jaw and neck. You let your head fall back, giving him more space to explore. Mingyu opens the buttons on the black blouse you wear and notices you weren’t wearing a bra. He lets out a grunt as he raises his strong hands calmly; touching you gently. Too gently. You start to get impatient, knowing you didn't have much time before someone else showed up.

Mingyu wraps his lips around your right nipple, making you let out a soft moan. He gives it a few seconds of attention before moving on to the other and repeating the same process of giving small licks and pulling away with a gentle brush of his teeth. He kisses up from your boobs to your neck, his hands stripping you out of your black skirt in the same rhythm.

"You can stop there." you pull the man by his dark locks when he tries to give you a hickey near your collarbone. You hated being marked in visible places.

"Sorry…" the look he gives you is warm and without the slightest trace of regret. His swollen lips pull back into a sly smile and you roll your eyes out of habit. With no more time to waste, the journalist opens the button on his own pants while you take care of removing your panties.

And that's when you see him. If Mingyu turned his face a little, he would see him too.

Precariously leaning on a file box, two hallways away, was Jeon Wonwoo. His eyes widen when he realizes that you discovered him there. You bite your lower lip and wink at him, making it clear that everything was fine.

Wonwoo lets out a breath, which he hadn't even realized he was holding until then. The man didn't intend to be there. He had gone to the files room after you, at Lipinski's request. He didn't expect to find his coworkers about to have sex.

And he didn't expect to want to stay there to watch.

Suddenly feeling bewildered, Wonwoo backs up until his back rests against the white cabinets that were adjacent to the bookshelf that hid him. He brings his right hand to his forehead and presses the space between his eyebrows with his fingertips.

The room was too hot, the black tie suffocated him, the tailored trousers felt like a prison. A little desperate, he runs his hand through his hair, removing it from his sweaty forehead. Your low moans pull him back to the reality of where he was and what was happening just a feet away from him. He straightens his body, ready to get out of there.

However, he can't leave without taking one last look.

Mingyu hid his face in your neck as he fucked you in a controlled tempo. You hugged him tightly, with your lower lip trapped between your teeth in an attempt to contain your moans.

As if they were magnets, your eyes soon meet Wonwoo's again. You smirk, amused to know he was still there.

With his hands shaking, the man lets out a tortured sigh and walks away, leaving the room as quickly and silently as possible.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

"I need to say something." you declare as you try to adjust the black blouse on your body. It was completely crumpled, but whatever.

"Go ahead” Mingyu turns to look at you.

You open and close your mouth several times, unsure of how to start the sentence. As someone whose job was the use of words, you were definitely failing to communicate.

"I didn't want to talk when we were... " you interrupted the sentence, implying what they were doing. "Wonwoo saw us."

Mingyu stops trying to straighten his messy hair and looks at you suspiciously, as if you had just told him that you knew which numbers would be drawn in the lottery.

"And that’s a problem because…?"

"Why aren't you nervous about this? "you question, finding the man’s reaction weird.

You tilt your head, analyzing the man in front of you. He was strangely calm for someone who had just heard that the new nemesis had seen naked the woman he had been jealous of a few days ago.

"What do you think he's going to do? Go out and tell everyone he saw us here?" he rolls his eyes and tucks the hem of his white blouse into his pants. "As if."

"Of course not, you moron. I thought you would freak out for another reason."

"And what reason could that be?" Mingyu asks, holding your chin with his long fingers, forcing you to look at him.

"Nevermind."

Mingyu shrugs, it was in his best interest to leave that subject aside. You try to adjust your black skirt, unzipping at the back to make the process easier.

"How much did he see?" Mingyu asks himself as he leans against the sideboard, waiting for you.

"I don't know when he arrived, but I saw him before you... oh, you know."

"Before I fucked you?" Mingyu laughs loudly and you slap his chest, suddenly feeling ashamed. "Who knows, maybe he learned a thing or two…"

"You are annoying, Kim Mingyu." you let an amused smile escape your lips.

You turn around in a silent request for help from the man, who zips up your skirt.

"And you love it, my dear" Mingyu kisses your neck as he carefully pulls the zipper up. "Now, move that beautiful ass of yours. We have deadlines." he gives you a playful slap on the butt before heading to the exit.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

m.list ♡

read part two!

tags ꩜ i hope you liked it so far!

@asscoups17 @wonvsmile @porridgesblog @gaslysainz @thepoopdokyeomtouched @sunset-sana @coupsgfsstuff @stagefrjghts @wonuwonder

#I'm nervous pls dont hate it #mingyu smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen hard hours #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #my works

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hausofwoo · 1 month

Text

strapped | park seonghwa

pairing: seonghwa x afab reader

word count: 612

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, literally just a pwp blurb, seonghwa sucking a strap on, sub!seonghwa, begging, finger sucking, hair pulling, use of petname (sweetheart)

author's note: i had the thought of seonghwa sucking a strap-on pop into my head and i had to write it out asap. very short but juicy! there will be plenty more sub!seonghwa fics from me but here's just a little taste....

seonghwa is so desperate to please you.

he sits on his knees on your shared bedroom floor, hands tied behind his back and head tilted back, looking up at you standing over him. his skin is glistening with a sheer layer of sweat and his hair is a ruffled mess from all your pulling and tugging. he’s free of all of his clothing, but his erection throbs in need.

“please,” seonghwa begs. “i’ll do whatever you want, just please touch me.”

“not yet, sweetheart,” you say, running your fingertips along the side of his jaw. his eyes are fixated on you with pupils completely blown. you place your fingers on his soft lips, prompting him to immediately open and take them in his mouth. he runs his tongue along your digits before sucking on them, eye contact persisting. you replace your two fingers with your thumb, prying open his mouth so he can take your strap.

“do something for me first, baby,” you say, watching as he lays his tongue flat for you. “suck.”

you guide your strap’s tip to his mouth, and he takes it eagerly. his plump lips enclose around the tip and gradually takes the length. he reaches the base of the strap, deep-throating it. he hums in satisfaction. he continues to bob up and down, sucking. he’s making a fucking mess, with spit covering his lips and dripping down his chin. he doesn’t seem to care anyway, with his muffled moans filling up the room.

he pulls off the strap completely, a string of saliva still connecting to his lips. he drags his tongue on the underside, making his way back to the tip before taking it into his mouth again.

yeah, maybe getting your strap sucked doesn’t physically stimulate anything for you, but seonghwa loves putting on a show for you. he loves to be degraded by you, to feel pathetic under your touch. something completely takes over him, and all he can do is follow your every order. he’s like a puppy; just so fucking eager. you love it too, being able to control what he does. it comes so naturally for you to push him around, and it only makes it ten times hotter when you notice it makes him twitch.

you grip his hair, pushing his mouth as far down on the strap he can go. his eyes roll back and he lets out a loud moan onto the toy. you yank him back off, watching his half-lidded gaze up at you as spit spills out of his swollen red lips. the saliva drops onto his crotch, right on the tip of his aching cock.

“oh fuck,” he groans, knitting his eyebrows together. his hisses, partly from pain, and the other part from pleasure. this whole time, during the teasing and the foreplay and now while giving your strap head, he’s been painfully hard. you haven’t touched him once, and it’s starting to feel excruciating. he lifts his hips, thrusting his leaking cock into the air, searching for some sort of stimulation. he squirms under your hand, leaning his head back and whining. he looks back up at you with probably the most pathetic look you’ve ever seen.

“you want me to touch you, don’t you, baby?” you say, moving your grip from his hair to caress his face.

“please,” seonghwa says, tears welling up in his eyes. his hips continue to thrust in the air slowly, cock twitching. “i’ve been so good…”

“you have been good, haven’t you?” you say. “let me take care of you…”

a/n: guys don't hate me i know it's short!!!! i was on vacay in chicago to see ateez and it gave me inspo and i had to write it out before i lost my mind. i have another fic in the works rn but i wanted to release this so u bitches had something while u wait lol

✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho @haizbby @hoeforalbedo @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

add me to the taglist!

#ateez #park seonghwa #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fic #seonghwa blurb #seonghwa drabble #ateez drabble #seonghwa x reader #sub!seonghwa

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superblysubpar · 1 year

Text

We Got Love:

modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve picks you up from the bar after your night out with Robin and he realizes he's overwhelmingly in love. | masterlist | Title/fic inspiration song always at the bottom - steve's music | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is - please respect this

WC Range: 5-10k

Warnings: reader consumes alcohol with descriptions of being tipsy / fluffy gooey hopelessly in love with each other kissing and flirting

A/N: A night out with @loveshotzz in Chicago had us thinking about Steve picking us up and bringing us to McDonald's and then a sweet anon sent a thought about Steve helping our tipsy selves and thus this fic was born. I hope you love it!💛

Steve was in too deep. He wasn’t supposed to fall this hard or this quickly. Sure, he’s known for giving his heart away too easily, but he knew this was different. He knew you were different. He was going to take it slow this time - he had a whole plan.

He’s never been a good planner.

You’re sweet and soft, but you’re not afraid to bite back. You’ve got an energy about you, and sometimes he feels a little like you’re the sun. He can’t help but be drawn to you, like you’ve got a gravitational pull just for him, but if he gets too close too fast he’s gonna get burned like he always does.

But Jesus Christ, you’re not making it easy for him. You’re so sweet and perfect already, but you have to be gorgeous too? Cause you’re always pretty, but tonight…wow. And your ass in those jeans. His hands form fists at his sides, planting his heels into the floor so he doesn’t just start making out with you in front of Robin. He’s going a little insane - like he feels like he needs to keep his hands on you at all times or he’ll literally stop breathing, he’ll die if he doesn’t get to kiss you and -

He’s so fucked.

Hair curled and bouncing across your shoulders as Robin and you dance and headbang to the early 2000s playlist she insisted would pump you up for your girls night out. His bathroom counter is littered with lipsticks and various tubes of things you hold up to him in the store for his opinion on. He just nods and asks ‘Do you like it?’ before you drop it into the red cart with a smile and leave a kiss on his cheek.

A laugh that has the ability to actually crawl into his chest and burrow inside of his heart leaves you as Robin gives you shit for being high maintenance. He hides a smile from his spot leaning in the doorway as you insist that the tequila shot is going to be better with the orange, “Trust me, Robs. When have I steered you wrong?”

Robin starts to list several times you’ve done just that and your face scrunches as you stick your tongue out at her. Steve watches you both lick salt from your wrists and as you make eye contact with him he clears his throat and looks down, cheeks flushing pink at the thought of your tongue like he’s thirteen again.

Yup, totally fucked.

The clink of your glasses on the counter draws his eyes up once more, your face squished in amusing pain as you suck on the orange slice, eyes fluttering open and removing it with a wide smile directed at him over Robin’s shoulder. Body wiggling and hands clapping together as the alcohol enters your body and another laugh leaves it as Robin begrudgingly admits to liking the orange.

A pink stain left on the rim of the glass and one on his cheek after you skip over to him, arms wrapping around his neck. Steve’s hands find their favorite spot on your hips, fingers slipping seamlessly into the belt loops and trying not to think about how your hips and ass are gonna look dancing out at the bar without him. How you naturally sway easily to the beat, and smile around the skinny neon straw between your teeth as someone tells a story. How in between turns at an arcade game or a round of pool you use the stick or someone’s open fist to sing along to the songs playing because your walls come down a little from just a few drinks.

You lean back to peer at him with a smile that makes his heart stutter, sure he’ll need to seek actual medical attention to get it restarted as you tap your nose to his chin. God, you’re so fucking pretty.

“You gonna be okay all by yourself tonight handsome?”

Handsome.

He can’t help but sigh a little when you call him that. Can’t help the way his hand moves to push a piece of your hair behind your ear like he’s a leading man in a rom com you’ve made him watch.

He wants to tell you the truth. That no, as a matter of fact, he will not be okay alone and he needs you to stay. And it freaks him out a little bit that he wants you to stay forever and it’s not even for sex. He wants to debate about the best candy to have with popcorn, for you to shove your cold hands under his shirt and press your nose into his neck. To banter about what to watch only for you to fall asleep five minutes into it. Words on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t want you to leave ever. Because you’re going to go out tonight and go back to your place and he feels crazy because he wants you to just move in and that’s not in the plan. That’s not taking it slow at all, Harrington.

Raising your eyebrows at him, waiting for his response, his hands now push your hair from your shoulders gently. Swallowing harshly as his fingertips graze over the straps of your black tank top hiding under a jacket, trailing up your neck and back down relishing a little in the goosebumps that rise in their wake. A non committal hum leaves his pursed lips before he sighs, “You know, I really don't know. I think you should stay, just to be safe.”

It’s not the words that cause the feeling of a box of bouncy balls being dropped in your stomach, but the way Steve says them with that look. Tone and eyes warm like honey dripping over every inch of you, sealing your body in a sweet and sticky heaviness. Convinced you’d melt into an actual pile of goo if he let go of you, ready to shout how you’re feeling from every open window at every tallest peak in the world. Tequila and citrus mingle with the words that dance on your tongue, making it all a little harder to keep inside. You’re far too tempted to tell Robin that there’s a change of plans and you’ll have to stay curled up next to your boyfriend for the rest of your life.

You don’t say those things though, but you pretend to play along with his game - to see how much of his heart he’s willing to give away before you give all of yours to him.

“Well, safety is my middle name…”

Steve’s smile widens, lopsided and rising on the right and you want to reach out and trace over his lips and memorize the smile you’re able to pull out of him - just for you. Body filling with heat at the thought as his hands squeeze at your shoulders.

Thumbs brushing across your neck as he takes the smallest step to fully close the distance between your bodies, “Right, so really, it’s your duty to-”

“Oh god, I need another shot!” Robin smacks her head against the counter several times, “Please, for my sake, would you just kiss and say goodbye so we can go already?”

Stepping onto your toes, your nose brushes Steve’s and he sighs as your lips hover over his, “Don’t have too much fun without me, okay?”

A clink of Robin’s shot glass hitting the counter makes your lips twitch.

“Fun? Without you? Just misery with no company here.” Steve huffs and taps the tip of your shoes with his socked foot. Pouting his lips out dramatically in one last feeble attempt to get you to stay. You catch his bottom lip with yours, pressing a soft and over too quick kiss there.

Robin bangs her head on the counter again as his fingers slip into your hair, cradling the back of your head. His tongue pokes out to lick across his top lip, citrus and salt lingering on it.

Warm eyes dancing between yours as he whispers a plea, “One more?”

Desperate for a pillow to scream into, to kick your legs and giggle like the lovesick fool that you are, you just bite back a grin as he tilts your head further. Lips molding around yours, soft and lazy and making you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. Noses squished together, thumbs buzzing across your cheeks, Steve sighs into you and your foot practically pops like you’re in a black and white movie and the end credits song is going to start playing.

The tap of Robin’s foot in impatience and a loud clearing of her throat makes the smile you were biting back win as you pull away reluctantly. Unable to help yourself, one more quick peck to his top lip before you untangle your heart and hands from his.

Tugging Robin towards the door, you glance over your shoulder to find Steve with his hands running through his hair, eyes blinking open as you smile widely. A sing song lilt to your voice as you call back through the closing door, “Have fun with your misery!”

Robin’s voice echoes down the hallway, “You’re both disgusting!”

Your voice louder and exasperated, “You told me to kiss him goodbye!”

Steve’s forehead hits the now closed door as he groans, palms dragging over the wood before they form fists. He already misses you. He’s a chump. He’s in love. He’s pretty sure you’re the one.

So, so, so fucked.

He tries not to wallow, cause that would be pathetic.

He’s pathetic.

Alone in his apartment trying not to think of you, except you’re everywhere. He cleans up your pregame shenanigans, despite you insisting you’d do it earlier before leaving - he was happy to do it so you could have more time with Robin. There’s a blanket you bought for his couch, your favorite coffee mug fresh out of the dishwasher and hung on a hook. The scent of your perfume and body wash in his bathroom and a toothbrush next to his. Clothes returned to half of a drawer that was basically just entirely yours now.

Eventually, he’s tired of his own co-dependent self pitying and crawls into bed, curling into the pillow that now smells like you. Thoughts of you lull him into a restless sleep. Tossing and turning and desperate to reach out and feel your body clinging to his, legs tangled together and cheek pressed to his chest.

Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t love the fact he woke up at almost 2am to his phone ringing loudly, your face filling the screen. A picture he’d recently caught of you, holding a giant burrito in your hands and staring lovingly at it like it was your child.

Just the sight of it makes his chest ache and he takes maybe a second longer to answer since he’s caught up in staring at it. Clearing his throat before he answers, “Hello?”

“Oh, fuck, you sound…I…” your voice wobbles and a barely audible sigh falls into the speaker, not expecting the heavy sound of his voice. Not prepared for the deep gruff from his chest and sleep coated word to make your thighs push together like they do.

He sits up straighter and flicks on his lamp, “Hey, everything okay?”

“Ye-yeah,” you hiccup and giggle and then continue, “Yes. You just sound so sexy, I’m - well he does!” You’re shouting to Robin who he hears grumbling in the background and his bottom lip pulls in, tugged between his teeth as he fights a smile.

“Called just to tell me that, huh?” Purposely whispering so his voice sounds a little raspier, practically able to see you melting on the other side of the phone.

“Fuck…no?” His smile breaks through at the sound of your sentence ending in a question before you keep going, “I…I called because….oh! Uber! There’s like no Uber’s around and well okay there was one but we’d have to share it with these guys and…”

Steve is already pulling on sweats and the black sweatshirt you were always stealing. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he slips on the first pair of shoes he can find. Locking the front door and spinning his keys on a finger as you continue on. Somehow your story turns from Uber to Robin having a rum and coke come out of her nose because of a joke you told and how you totally crushed her at ski-ball.

He could listen to you talk about nothing and everything, just enjoying the sound of your voice and the way you light up when you tell a story. It can’t be crazy to be so in love with you already. You have to feel this way too, right?

“Anyways, I’m talking a lot and Robin is tapping her wrist.” You laugh and a snort comes out and somehow he falls even harder. “Like she’s ever worn a watch and been on time in her life - oh really? Name one time! Uh-huh, that’s what I thought, Buckley!”

“Babe,” Steve interrupts, rubbing his jaw to fight the aching smile he’s had on his face for the past few minutes. It’s a new name still, sticky in his throat and makes his heart speed up a little at the risk of saying it every time, but he loves the way you react.

“Yeah?” A little breathless, he can hear you smile through the phone. Easily able to picture the piece of hair twirling around your finger as you quietly tack on, “I like when you call me babe, Stevie.”

He breathes deeply through his nose, forehead pressing to the steering wheel. It feels like he’s drawing each word out of his brain painfully slowly because all that wants to come out is ‘I love you’ and he needs to say, “I’m in the car, where are you?”

“Oh! I’ll drop a pin! Thanks Steve I lo-” your voice cracks as it falls off before you quickly shout, “See you soon!” and then silence.

The entire drive to you is unbearably long and filled with Steve telling himself you weren’t about to say what he thinks you were.

Not that it would be a bad thing if you had said it, but he wants to be first. And he knows he feels that way about you, he just thought it was all too soon. Saying those three little words out loud has burned him before, but for some reason he knows it’s nothing like the pain he’ll feel if he says them to you and you don’t say them back.

As snowflakes hit his windshield and disappear just as quickly, he comes to a stop at a red light, the barcade just on the other side of the intersection and he smiles. You’re out on the sidewalk with Robin who appears like she’s trying not to look amused as you cabbage patch and disco to a song that must be playing. Stopping suddenly, he can tell you shout that it’s snowing and Robin must say something sarcastic back because you wave her off and start to spin a little. Head thrown back with a wide smile, tongue sticking out to catch a snowflake. He pulls up to the curb and hops out of the car.

Your head falls forward and his name leaves your lips behind the widening smile, the ‘E’ at the end trailing off and wrapping around his heart.

Steve’s hair is a mess, carmel and honey, lazily askew and you ache to card your fingers through it. Can you do that yet? Is jumping into his arms and running your hands through his hair after only a few hours away from each other too needy? Your buzzed brain and body are toeing the line of not really caring if it is. Especially with his glasses falling down the slope of his nose, hands in his sweatshirt pocket and a smile on his lips. Gray sweats sitting low on his hips and you bite back a smile at the loafers he probably quickly grabbed. Lit up in oranges and yellows from the streetlight and neon green of the bar sign flashing overhead. You could jump his bones right there against the car.

Falling into his arms with a low and content sigh, your fingers lock around his neck and toy with the ends of his hair in a sort of compromise with yourself. Nose pressing into his jaw, inhaling the familiar scent you’d missed in just a few short hours. Woodsy, maybe a little leather, and Steve and you could dare to call it home already. Swallowing the thought down, you whine a little and reveal a different thought, “Fuck, you are so handsome.”

Steve’s breath catches like you haven’t called him that before, taking in the way you blink and flutter your eyelashes, wet from snowflakes melting on your skin. Arms wrapping around your waist to keep you up right - or at least that’s his excuse.

“I’m sure you say that to all the guys,” his voice still scratchy with sleep. He clears his throat, thumb rubbing against your skin just under the hem of your shirt. He’s lost in the feeling of you relaxing into his hold completely, like there isn’t any other place you’d rather be. Realizing that he can be a little needy with you, because you are with him.

The warm pads of his fingers on the exposed skin of your sides threaten to draw all of your attention. Forgetting what you said, what he said, or why you were even there. All information gone from your brain other than the fact that his lips are right there and looking far too kissable.

Pulling slightly away so you can stare into his eyes, you grin, touching your nose to his quickly, “Only you, Goose.”

Steve risks sliding his hands up your sides more, your shirt rising ever so slightly and his fingers buzzing over your skin. You love the way his lips quirk up at the nickname and he loves the shiver that runs through you and the way your breath hits his cheek sharply as he touches his forehead to yours and whispers, “Flattery will get you everywhere, Maverick.”

Rising onto the tips of your chucks, fingers finally pushing up and finding a home in Steve’s hair and you sigh. The neon lights could dim, a pop song could start playing and script scrawling across the screen announcing they lived happily ever after could all happen and you wouldn’t even be remotely surprised. It all feels a little like a dream, this thing with you and Steve, and you really hope you don’t ever wake up from it.

Mouth hovering over his, the mint of toothpaste on his breath begging to mix with the alcohol on yours, but leave it to your mutual best friend to ruin the moment yet again.

“Get a room!” Robin’s hands tap the side of the back car door, her plea echoing down the quickly emptying sidewalk.

Steve turns to glare at her, her body half out the window and a wide grin on her face. The two old friends in a staring contest and silent conversation when your stomach growls and a giggle slips out of your lips. Tugging on Steve’s shirt as you request, “Hey, can we get chicken nuggets?”

Robin snaps her fingers and points to you, “Yes! Now that’s more like it! Oh! And fries!”

“And a shake!” You jump up and down and Steve rolls his eyes at both of you, his hands still on your hips giving a light squeeze though.

He fights his amusement at your tipsy state and sighs dramatically, “Any more requests?”

“Nope!” spinning past him, he opens the car door and helps you in as Robin grumbles about her not receiving any help to get into her seat.

Steve begins to stand and your fingers tug him down by the collar, “Wait! I thought of one more thing I want.”

Snow turning to rain on the back of his neck as you lean in closer and he whispers, “Yeah? What’ll it be, honey?”

“A kiss,” smiling as your lips hover over his.

Steve’s cheeks turn pink and you’re so totally and completely in love with him it physically hurts when he whispers, “As you wish,” and presses his lips to yours.

It’s not a sweet and quick kiss like he intended, you’re a little greedy with it. Fingers clutching his sweatshirt, mouth parting over his and he can’t help but hold your cheeks and pull you in deeper.

“I’m seriously going to puke in your car Steven, and it’s not from the alcoholic beverages I’ve consumed tonight.”

Robin’s annoyed tone sends a giggle ripping through you, breaking the kiss and your hands release him and Steve takes a moment to take you in longer. Lips a little redder and glossier, eyes shimmering under fluttering eyelashes and his thumbs brush over your cheeks and he sighs, “You’re trouble, you know that?”

A grin and a kiss to his palm as your eyes look up at him innocently but your mouth forms a smirk tells him you definitely know.

He releases you reluctantly and closes the door carefully before jogging around the front of the car. Absolutely worth the flick to his ear he receives from Robin as he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before letting his hand rest on your thigh.

The drive to McDonald’s is not long, just down a few blocks, but it feels like years to your tipsy state. Steve’s fingers brush your thigh back and forth, setting your skin on fire despite the layer of fabric between them. Aimlessly playing with his fingers, brushing over his wrist before a song on the radio catches your attention.

Steve watches as you light up, turning the dial and proceed to belt out almost every lyric wrong, but somehow manage to try to sing along to the guitar and the drums at the same time. You end up leaning across the console, fingers playing with his hair, his ear, his jaw and it takes every ounce of his willpower to keep his eyes on the road.

“Keep your hands to yourself until I’m out of the car please, I’m begging you,” Robin moans from her totally horizontal position in the backseat, eyes glaring at you.

Your frown is amusing, like a kid told they can’t have their cookie until after they eat their vegetables and you pout. Your fingers trail back to Steve’s on your thigh as he orders for you all at the drive thru. Perking up as you tug on his sleeve. “Stevie, don’t forget-”

“Oh, can I get extra sweet and sour please?”

Your smile is brighter than the neon light from the yellow arches illuminating the car and he knows he really is a goner after you do a little dance in the seat as the fries and nuggets hit your lips. Peeking up at him as you sip your shake, wiping your lips before asking, “What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, you’re just really cute.”

You duck your head down and hide your smile in your last nugget as Robin sighs around her fries. She leans forward as Steve pulls up to the curb outside of her place and wraps her arms around you from behind and squeezes, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You start to turn, “What are you talking about, I’m staying the-”

Robin kisses your temple and starts to get out, “No you’re not. Have a good night lovebirds!” She calls loudly, saluting with fries in her hand before entering her apartment building.

Snow that’s turned to rain fully and hitting the roof of the car mingles with the music playing softly and you smile at him. Voice suddenly shy and quiet as you ask, “Your place?”

Steve can't get you home fast enough. You’re all cherries and chocolate ice cream and salt - stolen kisses at every stop sign. Giggling as he tells you that you gotta stop or he’s gonna get a ticket, placating you with more fries and asking about your night.

He’s driving himself a little crazy as he finally pulls to a stop in front of his place, fingers gathering yours and pulling you out of the car and up the front steps. Steve wants to let your hands wander, to keep that smile on your face, but he can see the food turned your tipsiness to sleep and it tugs on you, making your limbs heavier and your eyelids flutter more. He knows that as soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re going to be out. The responsible thing to do is to get you to bed.

As the door closes, you lean in to kiss Steve like you’ve been wanting to all night. Desperate to disappear into each other without the impatient and annoyed eyes of Robin next to you any longer. Fingers tugging at the strings of his hoodie, pulling Steve’s body against yours. Your lips attach to his with no intent of ever letting them go.

“Missed you,” a breathless pant against his lips as you continue your assault on them, hands sliding into his hair and scratching at his scalp. Smiling around his lips as he groans at the feeling, his hands landing on either side of your head to catch himself.

Pulling away despite your whine of protest, he kisses your neck, nibbling a little before pressing more kisses into your skin. Your back arches and he sighs, this is definitely going to be harder than he anticipated. Words lost in your skin between kisses up and down your neck, “Missed you too.”

Steve can’t believe the words he’s about to say, especially when you’re looking at him like that. Kiss swollen lip tucked between your teeth, skin flushed - glitter and sweat kissed, curls of your hair falling loose and framing eyes that seem to be reading his thoughts and hungry with an equal amount of want.

Steve’s eyes warm, cinnamon and moss melting and climbing over you and you want to let him take every inch, want to tell him it’s all his. The pad of his thumb brushes over your bottom lip as he swallows harshly. He pulls at it, letting it pop out in a pout that he kisses slower and sweeter than before. Steve sighs into your lips as you part further for him, fingers trailing down to his jaw to hold him closer to you.

His forehead pressed to yours, his words are a breath against your lips, “Come on, time for bed, trouble.”

Is it the alcohol or is it Steve’s lips and words that make everything feel a little off kilter? He makes you dizzy, and giddy and he’s the one who’s trouble because you weren’t supposed to fall this hard for a boy like him. He can’t possibly want a girl like you.

As your eyes flutter open, he’s pulling at your hands, thumb brushing over your knuckles and leading you down the hallway. Not stopping at the bedroom, but continuing on to the bathroom. Steve hands you your toothbrush, kissing your temple with the promise of a change of clothes. Leaving you to stare at your reflection and wonder why Steve saying ‘time for bed’ and actually meaning to go to sleep has your stomach alive with more butterflies than before.

Steve cares about you. He’s not trying to sleep with you, he doesn’t care that you woke him up or made him get you McDonald’s at two in the morning. He let you leave and he cleaned up yours and Robin’s mess. Steve cares about you.

He returns, setting you on the lip of the tub as he rummages in the medicine cabinet.

“Aha! Found em,” he mumbles, pulling makeup remover wipes down and crouching in front of you.

Instead of handing you one, Steve gently wipes at your skin whispering something about how you really didn’t need all of this stuff, you know that right? Every word and every pass of his thumb with the cloth over your skin knocks a stone loose in your resolve. A paper thin wall between your heart and his now. It aches, your heart pounds loudly in your chest, filling your ears. Palms sweating, fingertips itching, breath catching like you’re about to take a jump off of a cliff.

Mouth dry as the words that yearn to come out sit ready on your tongue. Instead, your fingers catch his chin and you kiss him. Chaste and quick, eyebrows raised at him, “Why are you so sweet to me? What d’ya like me or something Steve?”

Steve tosses the wipe covered in makeup, kissing your wrist before tugging at the same hand and pulling you up to stand. Heart hammering, denting and breaking the armor he keeps around it. He could say it. He wants to say it.

But he doesn’t.

He lifts your arms and you giggle as he pulls your shirt from you and slips one of his own over your head instead. Kissing each of your cheeks as your jeans drop to the floor and he helps you step out of them. He sighs, catching your jaw like you had just caught his. “Yeah, something like that.”

Rising onto your toes, hands on each side of his face, you whisper through a smile, “How embarrassing. You like me? Do you like really like me like me or-”

Steve presses his lips to yours, arms wrapping around your waist and you sigh, hands falling to rest flat against his chest. His lips move over yours languidly. Lazy and sweet kissing that has you melting into his body. He knows he needs to stop kissing you, that you should go to bed. But he can’t stop, like your lips have a love potion in them and he’s under your spell.

Steve lifts you, carrying you to the bedroom and your kissing becomes a little sloppy, your smile forcing you to break apart for a breath. He lays you on the bed, arms on either side of your head as he hovers over you. You giggle into his lips as he pesters you with quick kisses over your face, “What’s,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “Funny?”

He nibbles on your bottom lip and pulls away and you’re eager to chase his lips, hands looping around his neck. Laughing into his smile and kiss as you sing, “You like me so much. You want to kiss me, you want to date me, you want to -”

Steve kisses your teasing away again, this time a little more passionately - like he’s trying to say all of the words he wants to with just a kiss. Stealing your breath from you, but then again he can’t really steal something you’re willing to give.

He pulls away, cradling your jaw and relishing in the dazed look on your face. He whispers into your lips as he kisses you again, “I’m gonna go get you some water, Gracie Lou.”

Smiling to himself down the hall as you finally find your voice and shout, “I knew you liked that movie!”

Steve can’t be gone for more than a minute, but when he returns, your chest rises and falls evenly, puffs of breath leaving your slightly parted lips and your face relaxed. Water to your side of the bed, he lifts the covers and slips you under them, flicking off the lamp and sliding in next to you.

Half asleep, you roll immediately. Leg slipping and tangling between his, hand on his stomach and cheek pressed to his chest. Steve lets his fingers glide over your spine, gently rubbing back and forth until his own eyes start to flutter closed. He’s going to tell you in the morning. He’ll make breakfast and coffee and he’ll finally tell you-

“I love you.”

It’s a breath against his skin, the words making goosebumps rise on it and his stomach flip. He feels you shift, your breathing heavy and your eyes still closed as far as he can tell.

“What?” he whispers to you and you don’t respond. Raising his head to peek at you, making sure you really are asleep, daring to ask again, “Y/N, baby,” he licks his lips, fingers sweating, “What did you just say?”

Nothing but a soft snore comes from you and Steve smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. He pulls you closer, practically on top of him and kisses your temple.

You love him. Arms wrapping around you tightly, he decides he’ll never tell you that you said it because he was going to be first.

Steve Harrington is in love with you too.

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 7 months

Text

Burning Wood

Marc Spector x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Marc gets a boner.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: One day I'll have to answer for my sins.

Warnings: blow job in a forest, Marc calling reader 'baby', getting a boner in public and being a little into it, swearing, typos - my head is really not in the game atm, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1831

Marc pressed his cold nose into your neck as he hugged you from behind. You shiver, instinctively flinching away from his touch and he giggles.

He presses his nose against you again.

“Marc,” you chastise, but there’s humour in your voice.

“What?” He grins, obviously knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“How is your nose so freezing?”

“How is your neck so warm?”

You chuckle and sigh, putting your hands over his arms. You both stare at the bonfire for a moment longer.

“I don’t get how you can be cold standing next to this thing,” you motion your hands to the flames.

Marc jogs on the spot a little, just to amuse you. “It’s cold, let’s stand closer.”

You laugh. “We’ll be in the fire.”

“Hmmm,” he nuzzles into your neck again and kisses your skin lightly. “Nice and toasty.”

So far, Marc had enjoyed visiting your family, even if they did live in the middle of nowhere. He thought he was going to go a little stir crazy at first, playfully making shinning jibes, but then he’d kind of… got used to it. The stillness. The forest walks. The tiny village with the population of 62.

A few kids ran around with sparklers under the watchful gaze of their parents, several people held out marshmallows need the flames. There was warm mead and hot chocolate if anyone wanted it.

Marc sighed, resting his chin on your shoulder for a second before he muttered, “my hands are cold too.”

“Marc,” you laugh, “you’re wearing gloves.”

“I know.”

“Well, you’re not putting them on me.”

“But you’re so warm.” He teases, tensing his arms as if he’s going to move and try to sneak under your shirt.

“Fuck off.” You grin and grab hold of his hands to stop them going anywhere.

“That’s not nice,” he pouts playfully. “I’m going to freeze to death and you're not going to help me?”

“You are not, besides, I thought Chicago got pretty cold? Shouldn’t you be used to this?” You tease.

He grumbles something into your shoulder.

“What?”

“I said, Chicago isn’t damp cold. Here’s damp cold. Gets into everything.”

You snort. “Aww, poor baby.”

“Yeah,” he nods and kisses your cheek. “Poor me, where’s the sympathy for me?”

You can hear the grin in his voice, he always loved playing up because it made you laugh. Though he seemed a little extra needy right now. Not normally the one for physical affection in public. Maybe the darkness of the night helped.

The bonfire snaps a little, still going strong and you pat Marc’s hair with your gloved hand as you lean back against him.

He sighs, pressing his face into your shoulder as you brush against the semi-hard outline of cock.

You pause. Ah. So that was why he was being so handsy.

“Ohhhhh,” you whisper, dragging out the word to be a menace and lean back again a little to press against his bulge. “I see, hugging me so that you can use me as a shield for prying eyes are you?”

“No.” He says into your shoulder, his voice obscured by your coat.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well I’ll just-” You go to move but his arms tighten around you.

“Stay here.”

You giggle.

He lifts his head up and kisses your cheek again. “I did not hug you to use you as a shield,” he tries to sound stern but the smile in his voice wins out. “I came to hug you and…”

“And?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“And then this happened.”

“From a hug?” You say disbelievingly.

“Hmm,” he grumbles.”You smell nice.”

You laugh, “I smell like burning wood.”

“Yeah, well, that and your natural smell,” he nuzzles into your neck again and breathes deeply. “Smells really good. Smells like… comfort, or something.”

Despite the sweet tone to his words, you can’t resist a tease. “And that made you horny?”

He tuts and rolls his eyes, giving you a little squeeze. “Yes, okay, it made me really horny. Happy?”

You pause and then nod, “yes.” You say with a touch too much enthusiasm and Marc laughs.

“Okay, well good to have your approval.”

You smile and lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest. There’s a pause before you push back a little more, rubbing against his erection again.

He stifles a moan into your coat. “Stop it.” He hisses, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it.

“Stop what?” You say innocently.

“You know what.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Marc.” You punctuate the end of the sentence by gently leaning back and rolling your hips against him.

He groans softly and presses into you. You hear the click in his throat as he swallows. “Do you want me to come in my jeans? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.” He hisses.

“What?” You say, all mock surprise. “So quickly.”

He lets out a little grunt of annoyance and presses his face back into your coat.

The realisation that maybe Marc Spector was a little into the risk of being caught started to piece together in your mind.

You pause for a second before deciding. “Okay.” You pull out of his embrace and turn to face him.

“Okay?” He startles, his eyebrows pinched together in disappointment, thinking the game is over.

“Hmm,” you smile sweetly and take his hand before you start walking and urging him to follow. It takes him a second to get the hint.

No one else seems to notice, or mind, as you both head away from the celebrations. Following the little well trodden path that leads back to the village.

Marc follows close, a step behind until you are far enough away from the bonfire to be seen by anyone there, but close enough that the light from it just about illuminates your path.

You guide him off the trail into the thick outcrop of trees.

“Baby, what are we-”

You silence him with a harsh kiss, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips in surprise. He moans instantly, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close even as you push him up against a thick oak tree.

He kisses back needily, his breathing already ragged and cheeks warm. His nose, however, is still cold.

You kiss his cheek lightly before you trail your lips down his jaw and nip lightly at his pulse point.

He groans, bucking against you and squirming a little, biting his lip to keep himself vaguely quiet.

“Didn’t realise you had a thing for the outside.” You tease and Marc huffs.

“I don’t.”

“Sure, sure,” you suck on his neck and he gasps, his body bending toward you, trying to wrap itself around you. You slowly run your hands down to his cock, the poor thing trapped in the tight confines of his jeans.

He groans again, the sound grumbling through his chest and into you. “Baby,” he bites his lip, and even though you can’t make out his exact expression in the poor light, you can picture it perfectly in your mind. How his brow furrowed needily, how wide his pupils were.

You unbuckle his belt, the sound of the leather opening makes his eyes roll back and he has to bite his tongue to stop the loud moan that threatens to escape.

He stays still as he can as you undo his jeans, his hands on your arms, needing to touch you and keep you close despite wanting to give you room to manoeuvre.

And when you sink to your knees he shudders, throwing his head back against the tree bark and sighing softly.

You take your gloves off and shove them into your coat pocket.

“Baby, I-” He swallows down his words, screwing his eyes tight as your warm hands pull him free and you suck on his head.

Precum spreads across your tongue, salty and rich as you moan softly, the reverberations running down the length of him and making his muscles twitch.

You pull back, just enough to pump the length of his a few times while your other hand massages his balls, one finger lightly pressing on his perineum.

He shudders, sighing out into the darkness as you lap at his weeping slit with the flat of your tongue, running it along and swirling around his tip before swallowing him down.

He cries out, grabbing hold of your shoulders as you take him as deeply as you can. He fights the urge to buck up and thrust himself completely in your throat, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move up and down, drawing his pleasure out like poison from a bite. He tries to fight against it, tries to prolong the sensation as long as he can, to relax into it. But he’s too worked up, too desperate. And his orgasm rapidly approaches.

The earth and dead leaves are soft under your knees, the dampness of the dirt soaking a little into your trousers, but you don’t mind. Focusing solely on Marc’s little whimpers and pleads, sounds you’re sure he doesn’t even realise he’s making.

How his legs shake, how his cock twitches in your throat, how his fingers dig into you.

He rolls his hips slightly, panting and you know he’s close, practically there. Warmth builds in your chest, pride at how trusting he is with you, how he knows you’ll take care of him.

You sink lower, relaxing your throat as much as you can and slipping him a centimetre further inside.

Marc gasps, the sound loud but not enough to raise suspicion, he bucks once, swearing and trying to mutter a warning but you press closer to him and swallow as he spirts into your throat.

He shakes as stars explode behind his eyes, as pleasure washes over him and momentarily rids him of his strength. He moans your name softly, gasping and keeping a firm hold on your shoulder to keep himself upright.

You keep moving, letting him ride his orgasm out before you lick him clean and tuck him back into his jeans.

You laugh a little as you try to get the zip up.

“What?” He smiles, his voice floaty and wonderfully blissed out.

“I can’t get your jeans closed with your dick still hard.” You giggle.

“Oh,” he chuckles and helps you to your feet. “Don’t worry about it.” He kisses your cheek, your neck, nipping lightly at your skin before he kisses your lips and holding you close.

“Don’t worry about it?”

“Yeah, well, we’re going back to the house anyway.”

“Oh, are we?” You smile.

He nods.

“I thought we were going back to the bonfire?” You tease.

He growls playfully, kissing the spot just under your ear. “Oh no, we’re going back and I’m going to fuck you into the mattress and make you scream while the village is empty and everyone else is here.”

____________________________________

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