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missadangel · 1 month ago

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MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)

Chapter 11: Favorite Crime

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Chapter Summary: It's hard to end things when you still have feelings for him. Neither of you handle it well. So instead, you both give in to the undeniable attraction that lingers between you. Good or bad? You don't care at all when you're in his arms. Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time. Chapter Word Count: 11,2k,HOT (SMUT) CHAPTER ALERT!!, even I'm surprised what just I wrote okay?no I don't feel guilty, shameless smut, sexual tension, jealousy, love, fingering, feelings, fluffy, rom-com, lust, passion, dirty talk, oral sex, multiple orgasms, cream-pie, fighting... authors note: changed the main moodboard according the rest of the story hope you like :) Thank you all for your support, asks, comments, reblogs and likes. I appreciate each and every one of you! Love you all!

Tuesday

11:08 A.M.

"Okay, now take a deep breath, sit back, and start from the beginning. Tell me everything happened that night, Mr. Castillo."

Harry followed his therapist's advice, crossing his legs and leaning back in the couch. After straightening his jacket and settling in, he exhaled deeply and began to tell his story. His gaze drifted out of the tall glass window, taking in the cityscape as he spoke. "That night, I was waiting for my food at the restaurant when I spotted her. She was out on a date with that guy, Theo. Although they were quite a distance away, I noticed them immediately—among the crowd."

The therapist adjusted her glasses with her index finger and met Harry's gaze. "How many times have you run into her since you broke up?"

"Three," he replied quickly. "That night was the third time."

After jotting down a note in her notebook, the therapist asked, "And how did you feel when you saw her?"

Harry’s gaze drifted from the floral pattern of the wallpaper to the fresh flowers on the coffee table, a hint of a smile beginning to form on his lips as he responded. "She was gorgeous. She always is. Honestly, I think she gets more beautiful each time I see her. It sounds silly, but she really does. She looked incredible,” he sighed deeply, “In that black dress with the mini floral print, her hair curled just for the occasion, light makeup, and of course, her unique smile."

"Mr. Castillo," the therapist interjected with a slight frown, still observing the dreamy look on Harry's face. "I asked how did you feel."

Harry cleared his throat. “Oh, right. Well, it’s tough to get this out, but...”

“Why not give it a try with a few simple words?” the therapist encouraged.

"Okay. Um, excited, stunned, unlucky, angry, lost, sad, and hurt," Harry's voice trailed off with each word.

The therapist noted his words and then looked up at Harry. “Can you tell me why you picked those words?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I was excited to see her, as I always am. Stunned because she looked so amazing, it took my breath away. Unlucky, because I wasn’t the one she was out with." Sitting up straighter, he fidgeted more, grappling with his emotions. “Angry, because I feel responsible for losing her,” he said, almost trying to convince himself. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his knees and buried his face in his hands. “I feel so lost without her—like my life has no purpose—and I’m really sad and hurt because of it.”

This time, the therapist wrote a slightly longer note before placing her notebook on the coffee table. She tilted her head and asked, "Mr. Castillo, do you think you specifically chose that restaurant that night?"

Harry pulled his hands away from his face and met her eyes, guilt clearly visible on his face.

He didn't need to answer.

The therapist took a deep breath. "Listen, this behavior isn’t healthy, and you’re the one who will suffer the most. My advice would be to keep your distance from her. It’ll be much harder to deal with your other issues if you don’t.”

Harry frowned, bewildered at how he could possibly stay away from the woman he loved. "But we agreed to sort things out between us," he replied with a shrug.

"You say you went there to talk on the night she was on a date with someone else?"

Harry looked away, pressing his lips together tightly.

The therapist leaned back slightly in her chair. “So, I take it you weren’t able to have that conversation after all.”

Harry fell silent, his eyes drifting away from the window again.

Though he didn’t answer, the therapist read something in his expression. It was crucial to delve deeper, so she pressed on. “Mr. Castillo, did anything else happen that night?”

“Like what?” he retorted, adjusting his tie.

“Like something you might be avoiding telling me,” she suggested.

Harry hesitated, recalling that night while calculating his response.

The night before…

8:45 P.M.

To your surprise, the restaurant wasn't the average spot you expected; it was actually quite luxurious and expensive. This was the kind of place the wealthy folks of Manhattan would choose for their dinner dates, making it just the right spot for a first outing. You were puzzled, though, because Theo, an actor with a talent agency, didn’t seem to have the kind of income that would allow him to pick such a lavish venue. So why had he brought you here? Your dress certainly wasn’t designer or expensive, unlike the things Harry used to buy for you.

Even with all those thoughts swirling around, you couldn’t help but feel like you actually fit in here. Theo’s eyes glued to you but he was cute. The night was going pretty well, even if you were basically dragged into it by Zoe’s relentless nudging.

Okay.

Theo was charming and undeniably attractive, with his light auburn hair and striking green eyes, yet he just didn't seem to be your type. As the evening unfolded, you found yourself engaging in conversation about your interests. It seemed you had several things in common, but deep down, you still wanted the night to wrap up sooner rather than later.

"Zoe mentioned you were with Harry Castillo, but I hear it’s over now,” he said.

Just hearing his name sent your heart racing, and you nearly choked on your drink.

“Yeah... that’s right,” you muttered, turning your gaze away.

Theo’s eyes darted to a table in the far corner of the restaurant. “Is it really all over between you two?"

That question hit hard.

You took another sip of your drink to steady yourself. “Of course, it’s over,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“For you, maybe. But I think he doesn’t see it that way.”

You turned your head toward where he was looking, and your heart nearly dropped when you spotted Harry.

He was casually eating, feigning ignorance, but you knew him too well to be fooled.

It was too suspicious.

This couldn’t be just a coincidence.

Deep inside, you knew that he still had feelings for you, just as you clung to those same emotions for him, no matter how hard you tried to dismiss them. For a brief second, the thought of abandoning Theo and making your way over to Harry enveloped you.

It was just a quick moment, but it was packed with a lot of feelings.

You turned back to Theo when your eyes locked with Harry's. You nervously tangled your fingers in your hair and began to shake your leg, a telltale sign of your anxiety that he knew all too well.

A little smile appeared on his face, and he took a sip of his drink, clearly enjoying the way he was bothering you.

“I think it’s just a coincidence,” you said, forcing a dismissive smile.

“It’s a pretty strange coincidence that of all the restaurants, he’s here on the same night as us,” Theo pointed out.

“Are you suggesting that Harry is doing this on purpose?” you asked, not pretending to be indignant, although deep down, that was exactly what you believed. You weren’t ready for any awkward tension, and you didn’t want Theo to dig too deeply into Harry’s motives, even if they were questionable.

“Forget it. Where were we?” he said, reaching out for your hand.

You didn’t like the way he held it, but you allowed it anyway. “You were sharing your story about the first time you came to New York.”

“Right," he said, smiling, taking a quick glance back at Harry before continuing his story.

But the night felt off, overshadowed by Harry’s presence. When you finally excused yourself to the ladies' room, you stole a glance at Harry. He caught your eye, and you felt a familiar tension until you were out of the dining area. Once in the restroom, you pulled out your phone and sent Harry a text.

"Restroom. Now."

A few minutes later, Harry showed up with that big grin of his. “Are you having a boring night, darling?”

You crossed your arms, feeling a mix of annoyance and nervousness. "Harry, what are you doing here? How did you even find out I was here? Who told you? And why?"

"Which question do you want me to answer first?"

You squinted at him. "Seriously, Harry? Just tell me why you’re here."

He rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated by the curious looks from others nearby. Then he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to wiggle free.

“We need to talk somewhere private.”

“I’m on a date, you know that,” you insisted.

“Just five minutes.”

Harry led you into one of the restaurant's private VIP rooms and closed the door behind you. It was cozy, meant for special meetings or romantic dinners, but being alone with him made you uneasy.

“Start talking,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That night you caught me at the airport... You mentioned that we would discuss our relationship later."

You stayed quiet, and he stepped closer, tilting his head to figure out your expression.

"But we still haven’t talked about it; it’s been almost a week. That day, what happened in the elevator—”

“Let’s not go there. You promised,” you interrupted.

He sighed. "You've been even colder to me since then. And how do you think it feels to see you on a date with that guy, Theo?"

"It's really none of your business," you snapped.

He moved in closer. “Come on, you don’t actually want to go back to that table. You’re just itching for the night to end, aren’t you?”

Damn, it was like he could read your mind.

Then, without warning, he took your hand. “Did it feel like this when he touched you?” Your heart started racing as he pressed his lips against your knuckles, so slow and deliberate.

Despite your better judgment, you couldn’t help but hold his gaze. He kept staring into your eyes as he slid his lips down to your wrist, sending sparks straight to your heart.

Of course it didn't feel the same way.

How could it?

He was the only one who could make you feel like this—like you belonged to him only, filled with a sense of longing and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He was right—you wanted him, and no one else.

Damn.

You were treading dangerous waters again.

You pulled your hand back. "Harry, what do you want from me?"

"Let's talk, just like we said we would. Can’t you spare me a couple of hours?"

I’d give you all the time I have left if you hadn’t broken my heart, you thought.

“Do you really think talking will fix everything?”

“I’ll give it a try, at least. What about you?" he asked, his puppy dog eyes locked onto yours as he ran his fingers through your hair, taking in your scent. “I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to be mine again.” He then kissed the strands of hair in his hand, which made your heart melt.

For a moment, all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and say you forgave him—almost.

“There’s an event at the bakery coming up, so I’ll be pretty busy this week,” you said softly.

You could see his expression drop.

Oh great, it felt like you were breaking him, and it hurt you too.

“If you’d like to meet up, I’ll be at the bakery tonight whipping up some sauces,” you said, eager for a chance to make him smile again, hoping he wouldn’t notice your enthusiasm. “I guess I can talk while I work.”

A grin spread across Harry’s face as he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be there, baby.”

You blinked at him, surprised.

Harry opened the door and caught your shocked expression, chuckling. "Aren't you going back inside? Your date might be wondering where you disappeared to."

Suddenly, you snapped back to reality and shook your head. “Um—right,” you stumbled as you headed back inside.

He watched you go, a smirk playing on his lips.

10:32 P.M.

After dinner, Theo insisted on taking you to the bakery, and you couldn't say no. The evening already wore on, but the prospect of making the sauce for tomorrow's desserts loomed large—if you could just whip up as much as possible by midnight, it would give you the time you needed. Theo was a genuinely nice guy; he didn’t even flinch when, during your first date, you had to mention your work and its demands, making the dinner brief yet enjoyable.

Still, your mind drifted to Harry.

All the things Theo had chatted about during the evening—even his interests you found appealing—paled in comparison to the brief moment you shared with Harry earlier.

Zoe, knowing you were going out for dinner, stayed at the bakery until closing time and pulled down the shutters. After checking them and locking the door from inside, you began preparing the sauces, convinced Harry would call if he showed up.

Of course, he did.

Just as you were about to finish making the sauce, your phone rang.

It was him.

You peeled off your gloves, tossed them in the trash, and made your way to the door. You smiled when you caught sight of him and he was grinning as he held his phone up to his ear. You unlocked the door and swung it open. "Welcome, Mr. Castillo. You’re the only customer we allow after hours," you joked.

“Wow, how lucky I am,” he said, smiling.

"Welcome to The Vanilla Vine. What can I get for you?"

Harry laughed, “I had dinner at a restaurant a few hours ago, but the dessert was terrible. It’s never even close to what you make.”

You smiled, “I’m afraid we’re out of fresh desserts at this hour, but could you help me out by tasting the sauces I’ve prepared?”

"I'd love to," he said, removing his jacket and hanging it on a chair.

You tried to ignore the scent of his cologne that wafted over as he took off his jacket as you headed into the kitchen. You watched him while he tasted the sauces.

You sighed deeply.

He looked so damn handsome.

Then, you went to the fragrance cabinet, grabbed a bottle of something you thought he might enjoy and returned to the table.

"Looks like we’re out of pastries too, sorry. Zoe probably took the leftovers home. However, would you like me to pour you a drink instead?" you said, setting the bottle on the table in front of him.

He raised his eyebrows. "Bourbon?"

“Yeah, it’s not your favorite whiskey, but…” you murmured as you filled his glass.

He picked it up, swirled it, and took a sip. “Hmm, not bad.”

“My secret ingredient for the vanilla cream,” you said, sitting across from him. “It makes the best one. But shh, don’t tell anyone,” you added, putting your finger to your lips playfully.

Harry chuckled, "I won’t, I promise," he said, then downed the entire glass in one go, his expression suddenly serious as he leaned forward, looking intently at you.

He seemed to be gathering the right words. “Look, I…” He sighed, taking your hands in his, his eyes softening. “It’s so hard. You’re right here, but I can’t reach out to you like I used to. It’s tearing me apart. I know you need time, but can you at least reconsider--”

You swallowed hard and pulled your hands away. “The sauce was on the stove,” you said, getting up.

It was a poor excuse, but what else could you do?

That night keeps popping up in your mind, a memory that’s tough to shake. The hurt is still there, like a bruise reminding you of his sharp words. It’s hard to ignore the pain that wraps around you, that heavy feeling in your chest just won’t go away.

And you were scared.

Scared that if you had that conversation, it might be the end once and for all.

You didn't notice when Harry had quietly approached you while you were taking the sauce off the stove. In a sudden panic, you clumsily dropped the small pot. You took a step back, but a bit of the hot chocolate sauce splattered onto you, yet fortunately, it wasn't too hot, since you had melted it using the bain-marie method. When you yelped in surprise and pain, Harry rushed to pick you up and set you down by the sink, running cold water over the spot where the sauce had landed. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched on his face as he examined the area. “Where did you burn?”

When he lifted the hem of your dress, you held your breath, feeling a mix of pain and tension rushing through you. Luckily, the injury was minor—just a first-degree burn. The cold water felt great, soothing the sting and making it easier to handle.

“It’s nothing, 'doesn’t hurt anymore. I have some ointment in my bag from last time,” you said, but he stopped you as you tried to rise from the counter.

“I’ll get it,” he insisted, turning to fetch your bag.

As the spot where the burn was started to throb, you instinctively began blowing on it. When Harry returned with your bag, he unzipped it and set it down on the counter, quickly finding the ointment. His hands were gentle as he carefully applied it to your wound.

You couldn’t help but gaze at his beautiful face.

Then he did something unexpected: he blew softly on the area, and it eased your discomfort as if by magic.

Or maybe it was because what you felt in that moment was greater than any pain.

You bit your lip, your heart pounding like a drum, threatening to burst from your chest. He detected the subtle shift in you instantly, observing how your body tensed, every muscle coiling with anticipation. It was in your breath, quickening and uneven, and especially in the fiery gleam of desire that lit up your eyes as they locked onto his. The air between you crackled with unspoken longing.

Pure lust.

With his hand still resting on your thighs, he closed the distance between you. You widened your eyes, blinking as he flashed a crooked smile before leaning in for a kiss. It was beyond anything you had expected; every nerve in your body ignited, and your heartbeat quickened, racing like a hummingbird's wings. His eager tongue slipped between your lips without hesitation, breaching the entrance as if seeking permission wasn’t even necessary.

Despite the magnetic pull, you attempted to break free, your fingers clutching the edge of the counter with a fierce intensity. Yet, without ever breaking the kiss, he encircled your waist with his other arm, drawing you nearer until your bodies collided in a rush of heat. In that moment, as the kiss ignited a wave of burning desire, you found yourself clinging to him as if holding on for dear life.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as he cupped your ass, scooping you up into his arms. The kiss intensified beyond imagination, transforming into an overwhelming hunger. Wrapping your legs around him, you tugged on his locks, prompting a deep, primal growl to ripple from his chest. With effortless strength, he shifted his hold, lifting you as he strode toward one of the leather sofas. In a moment of urgency, he shoved the nearby table aside, sending it skidding across the floor, before gently yet firmly seating you on the sofa, his dark brown eyes burning.

All the voices in your head screamed that logic told you to stop, that it wasn’t right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You felt defeated, completely consumed by desire. The only thing you could hear right now was the rapid heartbeat in your chest, the wet sounds you made as you kissed, and the drowning of your moans into each other’s mouths.

He kept devouring your mouth, swiftly began to loosen the shoulder straps of your dress. With a gentle pull, they slipped off, allowing the fabric to flow down and rest softly around your waist, while his skilled fingers expertly guided the way, touching your breasts.

He was quick to take one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking it mercilessly and loudly. Sharp whines left your throat as you thrashed and caressed him, grunting his name and mumbling sexy nonsense.

"Mmmm. Harry. Stop…Please...don’t go further... Fuck..."

But he just didn't hear you.

Instead, he turned to take another nipple between his lips and pushed the hand under your skirt and slipped it between your thighs feeling the wetness there. A small whine escaped your throat only urging him on. He then pushed aside your panties and ran a finger along your folds. Your fingers tugged at the roots of his hair while he was busy sliding your panties down your legs. The sweet scent of your arousal rose from between your bodies.

"Harry," you whimpered.

Were you begging him to stop, or to carry on?

Even you weren't sure anymore.

But he sure did.

"Shh, shh, it's okay baby," he whispered into your ear as he moved his fingers and tongue to bring pleasure to you.

He knew the ins and outs of your body, causing you to fall apart in his hands. You could feel a familiar heat rising in your lower stomach as he pushed a second finger in, making your eyes roll back.

When his lips detached from yours finally he moved to your neck, leaving small bites along your pulse point and jaw, then soothing them with his tongue. He dropped to his knees, continuing to kiss you as he pulled you to the edge of the sofa. He breathed in the sweet scent of your cologne, savoring it as he slid his lips lower and lower. He dropped soft, warm kisses along your thighs, taking his time around your wound. You moaned and bit your lower lip. Then his head was diving under your skirt for the sweet, wet treat of your throbbing pussy.

"Harry, please..." you whimpered again.

He hummed an agreement, gripping your thighs tightly as his tongue hungrily licked at your slit, teasing more husky moans out of you.

And you lost it.

Your body felt like it was on fire, burning wildly, legs were shaking like crazy. You found your fingers tangled in Harry's hair again as you clung on desperately.

With your upper-back up against the sofa, your groin pushed out towards him there was nothing to stop him from eating you out and so he didn't even try to resist, not at all, on the contrary he enjoyed it; so eagerly continuing to work your pussy and tasting your honey, his tongue coming up to tease your clit and making you groan out in pleasure.

However, he'd already been going at it for a couple minutes and his cock was rock hard, occasionally stimulated by a stroke or two, but frankly he was too engrossed in tonguing you to really get himself off. With a sense of urgency, he quickly peeled off his t-shirt and pants before moving on.

It didn't take long before you felt your orgasm approach, only to have his fingers and mouth leave you. You gave a pathetic whine as he hoisted you up with one arm while the other gripped your ass and gave it a good squeeze before planting passionate kisses all over your face. Your head lolled back against the leather sofa, as he adjusted himself and you. He smiled at your half-closed eyes, your slightly parted lips, and the rosy glow that colored your cheeks. Yet, this captivating sight only deepened his impatience.

He was hard as hell.

Hurriedly, he adjusted himself, seized your hips and slammed into you.

You gasped.

“Fuck," he groaned. "You feel so warm and tight baby. I missed this.”

Pulling almost all the way out of you, he thrust back into you, causing you to moan as you felt the drag of his cock against your walls.

As you looked at him again he gave you another crooked smile filled with appreciation and lust.

You realized you've missed him so much.

Soon all coherent thought was out the window as he started to pound into you, making your wrap your legs around his waist as tight as possible to keep him close. It felt so fucking good and you were barely aware of the world around you as his cock hit your sweet spot over and over.

You couldn't control your moans as he sent shocks of pleasure down your spin with each thrust. You didn’t care if anyone passing by heard or if the whole damn state heard, you didn't want this to end. He smirked tightly and pushed his face into your nape, kissing and nipping at your flesh hungrily between his hard thrusts.

Harry then leaned close to your ear, hot breath causing you to shiver. You were going to come and he knew it.

"Come for me baby... just let go."

And you did.

Everything went white as your orgasm hit you like a train. An earthquake of pleasure shooting through you causing you to slump against the soft leather. He was straining to keep his thrusts steady as his hips stuttered. You adjusted and leaned into him, gripping his head and making him look at you as his hips snapped.

Once more, Harry kissed you; his hands groped your ass and his muscles tensed, his vision got blurry as the only thing he could sense was the pleasure, threatening to unfold and your sweet voice on his lips. Your velvety folds hugged him so perfectly and your juices generously coated his cock, making for the erotic melody of wet sounds and the ones of skin slapping skin with each of his rough thrusts which brought him dangerously close to his high sooner than he anticipated and the clench of your plush walls around him was enough to send him over the edge. Hot loads of cum coated your pussy. "Oh, God!" you screamed as you came once again, burning in overstimulation as he kept thrusting, riding out both of your highs until his thrust got sloppy and he slowed his pace.

For a few moments, that felt like eternity, you two stayed intertwined, catching your breaths as you came down from your climaxes.

Exchanging incredulous glances, he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

A simple gesture that radiated warmth and deep affection.

As you started to grasp what just happened, and your breathing slowed down, it hit you hard that what you were doing just felt totally wrong all over your body. He gently pulled out and grabbed a couple of tissues from the table, cleaning both of you up. You straightened your dress and tidied your hair. He picked up his clothes from the floor, zipped himself up, and adjusted his outfit before tossing the used tissues in the trash.

An awkward silence filled the air between you. Embarrassed, you looked away as Harry's gaze lingered on you. "What have we done?" you whispered.

He crossed his arms, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "We just fucked, baby."

You shot him a glare. “Exactly, why did we do that? It feels so wrong.”

He moved closer, sitting next to you and brushing your hair back gently. "Why is it wrong? There’s no one else in our lives—we’re not cheating anyone, and the love is still there."

"But we’re not together, Harry. Have you forgotten how we ended things? I can’t just wipe that night from my memory. Something broke inside me then, and it’s not the same. I can’t look at you like I once did."

He shook his head, his brows furrowed. "Don’t say that, please."

You picked your panties up from the floor and stood, trying to shake off the tension. "I really need to go home."

In a sudden burst of anger, Harry grabbed your arm. "Are you really going to act like this night didn’t happen? That beautiful moment we shared? Because I can’t just forget that."

"Harry," you muttered.

He didn’t respond; instead, he picked up his jacket from the chair. “It’s late, so let me drive you home. I’ll be waiting for you in the car," he said, avoiding your gaze as he left the shop, the door closing softly behind him.

Wait...

Was he hurt?

Present day.

12:45 P.M.

Oliver was sitting in the car, going through stock prices on his tablet and checking out Harry's schedule for the week. The door opened, and Harry hopped in next to him, looking all tense. Oliver immediately asked, “How did it go?”

Harry signaled the driver to hit the road, staring out the window as he said, “Cancel all my appointments with the therapist.”

Oliver frowned. “Was it really that bad?”

Harry remained silent, distractedly reviewing the details of an upcoming meeting on his tablet, ignoring the question.

Oliver sighed and started tweaking his own schedule. “I thought talking to the therapist would help you out.”

Harry flipped the tablet upside down on his lap and shot him a look. “She told me to cut everything off and remove her from my life entirely. Can you believe that?”

“Maybe that’s what you both need,” Oliver suggested carefully.

Harry glared at him. “Just because she's a therapist doesn’t mean she’s always right.”

“Maybe you didn’t tell her everything?”

Harry grabbed the tablet again, brushing off the discussion. “Like I said, I don’t need a damn therapist. Just cancel it,” he snapped, feigning interest in the meeting details.

But actually, his mind was swimming in memories of the heated moments you had shared together, craving to relive those feelings once more and have another chance to do so.

12:59 P.M.

A few streets away…

The bakery buzzed with activity as customers indulged in the pastries you had lovingly baked that morning, sipping their coffee or tea. Meanwhile, you were busy making final checks for the evening’s organization. Sitting at the counter, you noticed that you were absently writing the same phrase on the same line in your notebook, lost in thought.

Your gaze kept drifting to ‘that’ leather sofa in the corner of the shop. Luckily, the customers lounging there weren’t looking your way, or they might’ve thought you were staring at them. But it was hard to shake off the memory of those steamy moments with Harry from the other night.

That moment...

That surrender...

No matter how hard you tried to focus on your work, those memories were imprinted in your mind, making your heart race.

“Oh, are you kidding?”

You turned at the sound of Zoe’s voice, her tone laced with surprise or anger. Part of you hoped Harry might make a surprise visit to the bakery, but when you caught sight of Melanie, your heart sank.

What was she doing here?

What stood out the most wasn’t just her surprising appearance, but rather the way she was dressed. Normally, she would be seen in short, designer dresses that screamed luxury, but today she opted for something much more modest that concealed her figure.

“What the hell are you doin' here?” you asked, approaching her.

She glanced around. “Is this how you greet your customers?”

“Melanie Johnson doesn’t just go to any ordinary bakery; so I'm quite surprised.”

Rolling her eyes, she shot back, “Okay, I’m not here to order anything. I heard you were looking for a waitress.”

Zoe opened her eyes wide, and you let out a disbelieving laugh. “You? A waitress? That’s rich.”

“Honestly, why do you want to be a waitress?” Zoe asked.

“I want to work,” Melanie insisted.

You squinted, leaning closer. “But you’re a spoiled little slut.”

Zoe stifled a laugh.

First, Melanie looked annoyed, but then a nervous smile crept onto her face, mixed with a look of false sadness. “Oh please, you’re so cruel with your words. I’m a reformed Christian. I’ve wholeheartedly accepted God’s forgiveness and have been cleansed of my sins.”

You and Zoe exchanged incredulous glances before turning back to Melanie. As Zoe darted away to attend to a customer, you leaned in closer to her. “Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I see right through this innocent act.”

In an instant, Melanie’s demeanor shifted, and she stepped closer, gazing up at you with a knowing look. “Listen to me, you little know-it-all bitch, I need this job to win back my dad’s trust, and you’re going to help me, okay?”

A smile crept onto your face as you recognized her true colors. “Melanie, I've put up with your antics for too long. Your dad kicked me out, and you came barging into my life, and almost forcing me to dance at a strip club because of you. And now you think you can waltz into my bakery and ask for a job? What’s wrong with you? Didn’t I make it clear you need to stay away from me and my life?”

“Oh, come on. I was like a prisoner in that religious camp; my only escape was to act ‘purified’ enough for my dad to believe it. Now he wants me to get a job. So what if I’m a disaster? I promise I won’t hurt anyone,” she pleaded, building up her innocent act again.

“Do you honestly think being a waitress is as easy as you think?”

“If that idiot can do it, so can I,” she said, pointing to Nick, who was struggling with a tray.

You sighed heavily. “No, Melanie. Tell your father to find you a proper job at his company. I don’t want you here.” You turned away, hoping to end the conversation.

“Is that your final answer?”

You glanced back at her, firm in your stance. “No, my final answer is: G.E.T. L.O.S.T.” you spelled.

A mischievous smile crept across her face as she pulled out her phone. “You brought this on yourself.”

“What are you doing?”

“Some folks call it blackmailing.”

“Blackmailing?”

She turned her phone toward you, and your face revealed a blend of shock and disbelief. It was the video of you and Harry entering the shop that night.

“What the fuck? But how the hell--?"

"What’s going on? Is everything okay?" Zoe approached you, concern in her eyes, but you panicked and grabbed Melanie’s hand that was holding the phone, hiding it from her.

“Nothing,” you replied, forcing a nervous grin. Quick to act, you pulled Melanie along with you, getting outside.

“What the hell? Are you some kind of creep?”

“It’s called evidence.”

“Evidence of what? And why should I be worried about it?”

“I know you two aren’t together anymore,” she said with a cruel smirk. “Imagine what Zoe would think if she found out what happened that night, or Theo for that matter.”

“What makes you think we did anything? We just talked,” you lied, your throat tight. “And it’s none of your business, you sneaky little bitch. Besides, Zoe would understand and there’s nothing between Theo and me, so you can’t scare me with that.”

“Hmmm, then I’ll just leak it to the paparazzi. Just need to send the video to Nate’s agency,” she said, opening her chat screen. "Isn't it interesting to wonder why billionaire Harry Castillo would be at his ex's bakery late at night with the shutters pulled down? Now that’s a story that would send ripples through every blog and magazine online.”

“You!” you shouted, lunging to grab the phone from her. But she pulled her hand back just in time.

“Do we have a deal?”

“I hate you, Melanie,” you said, gritting your teeth.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she grinned, sauntering back into the shop.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “I swear, I’m going to kill her one day,” you growled, cheeks burning.

19:39 P.M.

The evening event went smoothly, and the guests seemed pleased. It felt like a small promotional gathering. Your signature dessert was sampled by a well-known gourmet who awarded it full marks. Those were the highlights; the downside was that Melanie and Nick were disastrous as waitstaff, as expected. Thankfully, you managed to save the day. Guests left feeling satisfied, and a few mentioned they would be reaching out soon for an interview about the shop. Zoe informed you that she was heading to New Jersey tonight to meet with John's family and would return late, leaving you responsible for tidying up the shop. While cleaning up after Melanie and Nick's departure, your phone buzzed with a notification about an entry into your bank account. To your surprise, your landlord refunded the second month’s rent you had sent earlier that morning. Confused, you wondered if it was a mistake, so you tapped his name on your phone and called him.

His response left you stunned.

“I’m no longer the owner of the shop. I sold it, and the new owner wanted to acquire the space along with its contents, so there's no need for you to move.”

The first name that popped into your head was, of course, Harry. You quickly searched for his contact and called him. Coincidentally, he was already on his way to visit you and chuckled when he saw your name pop up on his phone screen. The phone rang just twice before he answered, his voice teasingly playful. “Hey baby. Can’t stop thinking about me, can you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Cut it out. Why did you do that?”

“Can you be a little more specific when you say that, darling? I mean, thinking about last time, I thought you enjoyed it,” he said with a cheeky laugh. “Or are you looking for more?”

You pressed your lips together, trying to resist the urge to smile.

He wasn’t entirely wrong; you did want more.

The idea of being with him every moment only deepens your longing for his presence; no matter how much time you share, it always feels too short.

You find yourself missing him every single second.

Noticing your quietness, he playfully asked, “Or are you just wishing for a little phone sex?”

You sighed, gathering your thoughts before you spoke again. “Harry, I’m referring to the shop. Don’t dodge the question.”

“What’s up with the shop? I’m not really getting your point.” His tone changed from fun to serious. “I’m on my way, though; we can talk when I get there.”

Just then, the shop door opened, and your heart dropped as you recognized the person walking in.

It was Alan.

And that’s when you noticed the smug smile spreading across his face, pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

“Well, hello gorgeous,” he said, scanning the space. “Nice bakery you’ve got here.”

Harry overheard Alan’s voice on the phone. “Is that—”

Enraged, you hung up, your eyes locked onto Alan as you stood frozen in place, a wave of nausea washing over you at the memory of your last encounter.

“What are you doing here?” you managed to ask, struggling to keep your voice steady.

Alan stepped closer. “I’ve missed you; it’s been a while.”

Was he fuckin' serious?

You turned your gaze away. “Is that so? Well, I never missed you, and I have no desire to see you again.”

He chuckled arrogantly. “Bad news for you, honey; you’re going to be seeing me a lot more. I own the shop now.”

His timing made sense, and you weren’t shocked.

“Why would you do that? We only had a deal, and it’s over between us. There’s nothing left but animosity.”

“Let’s just say I’m trying to make up for the past.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed and took another step closer, his demeanor serious. “My feelings for you were genuine; I never lied about that, although I can’t say I’m proud of my actions.”

“There’s no excuse for what you did,” you said, your voice icy while anger coursed through you.

He eyed you up and down. “Regardless, I went ahead with it. It helped pull you away from Harry and show you his true colors.”

“What are you talking about? Just because I might break up with him doesn’t mean I’d ever give you a chance.”

“You will, eventually,” he said with a cheeky grin.

You locked eyes with him. “If I had ten hearts, I still wouldn’t give you even one.”

He laughed, a furious sound. “I told you, I always get what I want. Maybe not today, but someday. Remember how I made you to come to me that night willingly?”

You swallowed hard, still feeling that awful sensation coursing through our veins.

At that moment, you heard the screech of car brakes, and then Harry barged into the shop. Your heart raced as he stepped inside. He threw a quick glance your way, then locked eyes with Alan, grabbing him by the throat. "You asshole. I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Harry!” you wailed, rushing to grab his arm in an attempt to stop him. He had a firm grip on Alan's throat, his fury boiling over. “What the hell do you still want from her?” he roared, shaking Alan by the collar before landing a punch squarely on his face. Alan crumpled onto a nearby table, sending everything on it crashing to the floor.

He touched his hand to his face, noticing the blood that coated his fingers. “You are the one who should die Castillo!” he barked.

In a panic, you screamed as he stood up and punched Harry back. “Harry!” you yelled, sprinting to his side. A small cut marked the corner of his lip. “Stop! Enough, or I’ll call the police!” you pleaded.

Suddenly, Alan's man and Harry's driver burst into the shop, rushing to break up the fight.

Ed stepped forward to protect Harry, while another guy placed his hand on Alan's chest to hold him back. You took hold of Harry's arm as his anger flared, then wrapped your arms around him to help soothe his temper. “Please, let him go. Just stop,” you begged.

As Alan staggered out of the shop with his man's assistance, he smoothed out his mangled collar and shot a threatening look at Harry, pointing a finger at him. “This isn’t over, Castillo.”

Harry glared back, defiance etched on his face. “Go ahead and try your worst. But first, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you pay for what you’ve done!”

Finally, Alan left and you exhaled in relief. You turned to face Harry, sighed and softly touched the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You are in your 40s, but you’re acting like high school kids sometimes.”

Harry turned to his driver. “Thanks, Ed. Wait in the car; I’ll be out in a minute.” He then pulled out a chair and sat down, pressing his palm to his mouth. “Why did he come here?” he asked, anger still simmering.

“He's the one who bought the shop,” you muttered, straightening the table.

Harry scowled. “What did you just say? That greedy old bastard. I offered to pay rent for the next three months upfront. How could he turn me down and take Alan's offer instead?” he grumbled.

You narrowed eyes at him. “Three months’ rent? Who told you to do that?”

Realizing he just messed up, he gulped. “We’ve talked about this before,” he said quietly.

“Yes, before—before we broke up. You're not my boyfriend anymore, so I don’t need your help,” you said, removing your apron and hanging it on the coat rack.

“Maybe,” he said softly, following you. “But it was a deal, and it’s nothing compared to everything you’ve done for the company.”

You let out a sigh.

He continued in a more gentle tone, “You wouldn’t accept if I offered you some shares, would you?”

“Harry,” you said, shooting him a glare.

“I know you wouldn't. So I figured I’d at least help out at the shop. What’s wrong with that? However that sneaky bastard beat me to it.” He stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Why don’t I find you another shop? I don’t want you stuck working in his place,” he said, scanning the surroundings.

“No need for that. He’s not going to kick me out. Everything’s above board,” you reassured him.

“It is, but…”

“Harry, let’s just drop it.”

“Well,” he said, curling his lip, and your attention caught on the corner of his mouth.

“Should we go to the hospital?” you asked.

“No, it’s just a small cut,” he said, gingerly touching the wound with his thumb.

You went to the first aid cabinet, grabbed what you needed, and returned to him. “Let me take a look,” you and took a seat across from him.

You poured alcohol onto a gauze pad and pressed it to his wound. The reddish mark stood out against his beautiful skin. As Harry’s gaze dropped to your lips, he leaned in, almost kissing you, but you managed to pull away just in time.

Undeterred, he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer. “Harry, don't.”

You found it hard to push him away since you were still holding the first aid kit. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around your waist and settled you onto his lap. “How’s your wound?” he asked, gently lifting your skirt.

You held your breath as he examined the area. Feeling his breath on your skin, “It’s healed now; it’s okay,” you replied nervously.

As his hand glided along your upper thigh, your heart raced uncontrollably. He locked eyes with you, slowly moving his knuckles from thigh to knee, clearly relishing the tension that washed over you. His lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You bit your lip, trying to hold on to your composure. "Hmm, you smell different today," he murmured, leaning in closer. You froze, your mind momentarily blank, all thoughts blocked out by the electricity of his touch.

"Orange blossom," you whispered, explaining the essence of your perfume. He buried his nose in your hair, his lips lightly tracing your earlobe, making you roll your eyes in sensation as you leaned against him. Opening your eyes, you found yourself craving his kiss, oblivious to the first aid kit that had slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor. Just as your lips were about to meet, the blaring sound of your phone startled you.

What the hell?

How did it come to this?

How did he manage to enchant you so easily?

Each time his fingers brushed your skin, you melted into his arms, like a button had been pressed to make you yield.

Every single fucking time.

He chuckled softly as you left his lap to check your phone. It was Zoe, calling to let you know she wouldn't be home tonight.

Harry stayed until you closed the shop, sampling your signature dessert and offering compliments while you cleaned the counter.

You accepted his offer to drive you home, a heavy silence settling in during the ride. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were. Upon arriving at your apartment building, you thanked him without stepping out of the car.

"You’ve never had me over," he said.

"What should I invite you over for?" you replied.

"Just as a friend," he shot back, trying to act all innocent. "Besides, we didn’t finish our last conversation."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I know what you're after, old man. No way."

"No, seriously," he insisted, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to it. "The sooner we talk about this, the better, right? I can tell it’s weighing on your mind too."

He wasn’t wrong.

You realized that moving forward was impossible due to the lingering tension between you. Perhaps it was finally time to talk things out, right?

"But promise me you won't cross any lines."

"When have I ever behaved inappropriately?"

"Should I start keeping track? We might not have enough time for that."

"C'mon, sweetheart. It’s you who practically threw yourself into my arms," he teased with a playful grin.

“You were the one who seduced me with your touch,” you said, leaning towards him.

“What? You’re the one who totally pulled me in. Do you even realize how enticing you are?” he said, leaning in closer.

"And what about you? Have you ever realized how hot you are?"

In that moment, as you both hovered just a kiss away from each other, your hearts raced in unison. The magnetic pull between you was almost too strong to ignore. Harry's driver acted like he wasn't eavesdropping on your chat, but the look on his face showed he totally was.

Regaining your composure, you opened the car door as if nothing had happened. “You can come up to my apartment if you’d like; I’ll offer you a drink,” you said, maintaining a steady tone.

Harry casually straightened his jacket, mirroring your demeanor. “That sounds good,” he replied nonchalantly as he opened his door. “Ed, you can head out. I’ll call you later.”

Ed smirked. “As you wish, Mr. Castillo.”

21:09 P.M.

As you climbed the stairs to your apartment, your heart raced faster with each step. Harry seemed impatient, you could feel his gaze on you. Taking your key out of your bag to unlock the door, you caught his eyes for a fleeting moment, and it felt like he was undressing you with his stare. A warmth spread through your belly and between your thighs as you unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and when you glanced at the screen, the name made your throat go dry.

Theo.

You closed the door behind you, missed the way Harry quickly scanned around before turning back to you, checking your ass. "Oh, crap. How did I forget? I promised Theo we’d watch a movie tonight at his place—" You were about to turn back to Harry when he suddenly pulled you toward him, crashing his lips against yours.

He kissed you with an intensity that caught you off guard as you instinctively tried to pull away, firmly sliding his tongue inside your mouth. He sensed your shiver, felt your surprise, and a growl of pleasure escaped him. Breaking the kiss, he shifted his attention to your neck, exposing your jugular, his tongue gliding over the pulsing flesh as he grazed his teeth against it, both lightly and yet hungrily.

“Harry,” you gasped, still clutching your phone as it rang insistently in your hand. “I really need to answer this.”

“No, you're not,” he said, his fingers gliding effortlessly from your shoulder to your wrist with one hand while the other slipped from your waist to your hips. You weren’t sure how it happened, but in a swift motion, he snatched the phone from your hand and tossed it onto the couch, glancing at it briefly before turning his full attention back to you.

Harry’s hands dropped from your hips to the backs of your thighs, squeezing your flesh lightly. You hopped up instinctively, and he lifted you, holding you up with your legs around his waist. Your arms encircled his neck as he kissed you again, his mouth pressing against yours with more force than you could have hoped for. He forced your lips open, his tongue massaging yours fervently, before he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, elicting a soft groan from you. You could feel his cock hardening beneath you, straining against his suit.

From that moment on, neither of you cared about the phone or anything else, consumed by raw desire. You helped him shrug off his jacket, a hint of frustration and urgency in your movements, while Harry continued to kiss you.

“Bedroom?” he murmured between kisses.

You pointed toward the right and nodded, “That one.”

As the kiss deepened even more, Harry shifted with you still in his lap and rushed into your room, kicking the door shut behind you.

He tossed you onto the bed, making you breathless and your head spin. You didn’t mind at all. The rush always brought butterflies to your stomach and made your cheeks heat up, but it also left you craving more. So it was no surprise you ended up like this, pinned down on the bed as he sucked on your neck and collarbone down to your sternum. Even the slightest touch from him felt like electricity on your skin.

Yet you needed more.

Your pussy was practically begging. Your hands tugged at his hair and you yanked his face to yours so your lips could catch him in a passionate kiss once more.

His hands made their way under your skirt. In one swift motion both your panties and skirt were discarded onto the floor.

“Fuck. You're soaking wet, baby. And all for me,” he rasped, noticing your glistening sex. He laid kisses on your inner thighs, mere inches away from where you wanted him most, as he continued, “I haven't even done much yet. You're such a needy kitten aren't you?”

You bit your lip in response.

His words.

Damn, it was so fucking hot.

His fingers ran up and down your folds before he settled on rubbing your clit. The action coupled with the degradation made you shudder and gasp.

His other hand had returned to its common position on your hips holding you in place. You were unbuttoning his shirt as he stared at you. Those dark enchanting eyes held your attention as he slammed a finger into you. You paused, gasped, eyes shut and your curses rang around your room at the fast and harsh pace of his finger.

Not long after he added another one. The way he curled them just right sent ecstasy rushing through your entire body. Your hands grabbed onto his hair to keep you grounded.

The faster and rougher his fingers got, the more you mewled and tugged at his hair. He pushed his thumb against your clit and rubbed small circles over it. Your thighs began to shake and you could feel your orgasm hurling towards you.

“Harry…” You whined, bucking your hips towards him, fingers tugging his shirt.

“You're so fucking beautiful.” He quickly shrugged off his clothes and climbed on top of you again. He brought your lips to his for a fervent kiss as his arm wrapped around your waist.

You were ready.

And so was he, cock twitching, seeking.

“You drive me crazy,” he said. “Absolutely crazy.”

“Get inside me, already," you begged, almost sobbing.

Your needy hands soon reached down to the base of his cock as a way to urge him to finally put it inside you. His free hand hastily came to replace yours. He rubbed his tip against your folds, your wetness running down his length. He pushed his entire length into you with ease eliciting a desperate, choked moan from you.

He didn’t even give you a second to adjust before he started slamming into you with a brutal pace. The delicious mix of pain and pleasure made you feel like you were in heaven. You were sure the whole neighbourhood would be able to hear your moans and whimpers if it weren’t for his mouth clamping yours. His thrusts were sharp and deep, each one sent your eyes rolling to the back of your head in ecstasy. You wrapped your legs around him to hold him close to you leaving your hands to claw at his back.

He ran his teeth across your collarbone and had you arching into his touch. Your orgasm hit you hard and you deliciously clenched around him. The room was filled with a blissful mix of your and his moans as he continued fucking you through your high, his undoing fast approaching.

His thrusts got sloppier and not long after he reached his release. Both of you were left breathless on the bed. His grip around your neck loosened and he instead rested his hand under your chin, bringing you into a slow and passionate kiss.

He mumbled between the kisses, “Fuck, you're amazing, baby.”

07:29 A.M.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your legs trembling and toes curling.

Feeling the last waves of your orgasm wash over you, you let out a moan, buried your face in your hands, arching your back and pressing your head into the pillow.

Pulling out with a groan, Harry collapsed back onto the bed, panting beside you. “Who needs coffee when you can wake up like this?” he joked.

You pulled the covers over your chest and glanced at him. “I totally agree,” you said, catching your breath. “But Harry, this is really getting out of hand. We need to talk about this. It has come to an end.”

With half-closed eyes, he looked at you. “Do you really want it to end?”

You shook your head, pursing your lips.

“Then just let it go as far as it goes, baby,” he said, leaning in to kiss you, but you pulled back.

You grabbed your nightgown from the floor and slipped it on before getting out of bed. “Harry, Zoe will be here soon. I think it’s best if you go now.”

“Are you kicking me out? And why are we hiding it from Zoe?”

I told her that I wouldn't hang out with you until we sorted our stuff out and I was sure how I felt. Plus, she thinks I'm with Theo."

Harry frowned and sat up in bed. “Just tell her we’re together then. And, I don’t understand why you can’t be sure about your feelings. Didn’t you feel what we shared last night? We had sex more than once, three times this morning,” he pointed out, holding up three fingers.

You crossed your arms. “Just because we had sex doesn't mean I’ve forgiven you,” you teased, trying to maintain a serious tone.

He frowned. “You’re really cruel. You slept in my arms all night. Just a few minutes ago, you were screaming my name and shaking—”

Suddenly, you heard the apartment door open, and then the voices of Zoe and John.

“Crap, no,” you groaned in panic. You turned to Harry, who was still sitting on the bed. “Hide! They can’t see you here.”

“Come on, Zoe is your cousin and John is her boyfriend. Let’s just tell them we’re back together now.”

“But we’re not Harry,” you insisted stubbornly.

Harry dramatically pulled the sheet up to his chest in mock offense. “I feel so used,” he said, pouting.

You struggled to suppress a laugh at his expression when you were startled by a knock at the door.

“Honey, are you awake?”

In a frenzy, you gathered the clothes Harry had carelessly tossed around the room last night, shoving them to the side of the bed, and then jumped under the sheets.

“Quick, hide over there,” you whispered urgently to Harry.

He rolled his eyes. “I won't—”

“You will if you love me.” With a gentle push, you forced him to the other side of the bed, where he had no choice but to crouch down and hide against the wall.

Zoe opened the door, stepping inside. “Hey, hon, morning.”

You plastered on a slightly too cheerful smile. “Morning. I was just getting up,” you said, glancing at the clock. “Wow, is it really almost 8:00?”

“Yeah. You were up late last night?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Um, I guess I was just a bit tired,” you stated, trying to sound convincing.

“Okay, I’ll get ready, and then we can head out together.”

“Everything alright?” you asked, noticing her slightly downcast expression.

“I’ll fill you in when we’re at the shop. Just get dressed and come on."

“Sure,” you replied, following her to the door. After she left, you closed it behind her.

You sighed in relief as Harry crawled out of his hiding spot, quickly putting on his pants and zipping them up. Just as he was tugging on his shirt, the door swung open again.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re wearing your nightgown backward—”

For a moment, all three of you froze. You were about to explain when Zoe shrieked, spotting Harry.

“Aaah! What the hell?”

“Why are you yelling?” you scolded her.

“What happened? Is there a burglar? Where is he?” John rushed into the room, scanning for any threats. Then he froze, locking eyes on Harry.

“It’s not a burglar; it’s Mr. Castillo,” Zoe remarked, laced with sarcasm and annoyance.

Rolling his eyes, Harry sighed as he buttoned his shirt. "Hey."

“What on earth are you doing? Why is Harry in your room? Weren’t you with Theo last night?”

“I can explain,” you said, trying to sound determined.

“Yes, please do,” Zoe urged, narrowing her eyes before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you into the living room.

Zoe guided you to the couch and looked at you like a parent scolding a child. “Seriously, what’s going on? You two broke up, right? So, what's this about? Make-up sex? Are you back together?”

“Not really,” you murmured.

“Have you forgotten how much you were hurt? Have you forgiven him?”

“Zoe, we’re just trying to work through our issues.”

"We will,” Harry chimed in, donning his jacket as he stepped in the living room. The hem of his shirt was untucked, and his messy hair made him look somewhat comical; yet, he was still attractive.

Zoe turned to him. “Is this really how you plan to fix things? You need to stay away from each other, or it will hurt even more when it’s really over.”

Harry frowned, realizing she was echoing the therapist’s advice. “I’d better get to work before I’m late,” he said, leaning in for a kiss, but Zoe stepped in between you two.

“The door is that way,” she said, pointing toward the exit.

“Hey, Zoe, there’s no need to be rude,” you said, tilting your head to sneak a glance at Harry behind her back.

Then John approached Zoe, “Zoe, they’re grown adults; let them figure things out for themselves.”

“Oh really? You handled things with Lucy by talking it out? It didn’t look that way to me.”

“Uh-oh,” you whispered under your breath.

"I guess I should head out," Harry said as he opened the door. He turned back to you, kissed his palm, and sent the kiss your way, which made you giggle.

John frowned. “What does this have to do with us?”

“Get out, John. I don’t want to deal with you today,” she said, pointing towards the door.

He let out a deep sigh and walked out, momentarily turning back to her. “Zoe, I…” John murmured.

Harry shot you one last glance and gave a cheeky wink. You waved back at him.

And bam.

Zoe slammed the door shut in their faces.

John muttered a curse under his breath. Harry shot him a knowing glance. “Looks like I got you kicked out, man.”

“No, I got myself kicked out.”

“John, I probably shouldn’t say anything, but… Lucy? Seriously? Still?” Harry said with a disapproving look, pulling out his phone to check for his driver’s number.

“Mind your own business, Castillo. And what about you? Are you really using your ex for your... needs?”

Harry tucked his phone away and met John’s gaze. “I’m not using her. I would never do that. Yeah, I messed up, but I’m going to fix things. As for you, you need to cut out the toxic woman from your life completely and stop hurting Zoe. When her cousin’s upset, it makes my baby sad too.” He turned to leave.

“Are you sure she’ll come back to you?”

Harry turned back, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying, my friend Theo seems to have a crush on her too,” he said, teasing him.

Harry looked at John, a stern expression on his face. “No one could possibly love her as much as I do. I've held back from begging for her forgiveness because I want to give her the space she needs. However, I refuse to let her slip away to someone else, do you understand? I will fight for her if necessary, even if it takes years. I'm willing to wait because she is worth it."

“Wow, Harry Castillo is talking like Romeo. Someone should let the media know.”

They both chuckled.

“So, you really love her that much, huh? I should probably have a word with Theo and ask him to back off, since I know she loves you too,” he said.

"He really should, unless he wants to deal with a hard dose of rejection," he smirked.

"I hope you two can work things out,” he said sincerely.

“We will, but you, John—like I said, you need to rid yourself of the toxins in your life first. Don’t let her do to you what she did before. Take this as friendly advice,” Harry said, waving his hand as he headed towards the stairs.

13:10 P.M.

“You know, Zoe has a point, baby. How about I take you out to dinner? We can talk everything through that night. What do you think?”

You smiled as you typed your response to Harry’s message. The thought of being with him filled you with a sense of purpose; he added color to your life, and without him, you felt like a puzzle with missing pieces. So, why not embrace the possibility of a fresh start and let go of the past?

“Deal, ol' man.”

As you arrived at Mia's school, your thoughts were still tangled up with Harry. So much so that it almost slipped your mind why you were there.

Right.

You had come as a chef to lead a baking workshop in Mia's craft class. While you weren't entirely at ease leaving the shop in Zoe’s hands and the others, you couldn’t turn Mia down. Fortunately, everything went splendidly; the kids had a blast whipping up cakes, and by the end of the day, many of them expressed a desire to become chefs like you.

Maria called to let you know that things at work were taking longer than expected—Harry was running late for the morning meeting, and you knew all too well the reason for that. As a caring mother, she asked you to accompany Mia home when her driver arrived, and you agreed without hesitation.

You weren’t sure why she preferred you to do something the driver could manage solo. However, when Mia dashed down the street toward a man waiting for the driver, it became clear.

“Mia, stop! Where are you going?” you called out.

“Dad!” she exclaimed, and you froze in place. The man she was embracing appeared to be Harry's age. You had heard Gerardo's name mentioned many times but had never met him before—understandably.

Mia threw her arms around him, and he kissed her on the head, returning the hug. He was dressed unusually casually. When he noticed you, he straightened up and took Mia's hand.

“Please don’t tell my mom,” Mia pleaded, her eyes on you. “She won’t let my dad come home.”

Gerardo smiled shyly in your direction and extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Gerardo, and you are…”

“Uncle Harry's girlfriend, the housekeeper… I mean, the chef,” Mia replied for you.

You exchanged awkward handshakes, and soon the three of you settled down at a nearby café. Mia wanted to catch up with her father, whom she hadn’t seen in days, but you felt it was your responsibility to stay with them since Maria had asked you to. Plus, there was something about Gerardo that made you uneasy.

After he apologized to you for the trouble he caused—the company and everything else—he opened up about his situation. He was in a tough spot; Maria had turned him down when he tried to reconcile, and he had lost everything after Harry pushed him out of the company.

While you sat there, another man approached and started talking to Gerardo. You considered leaving to take Mia home since she hadn’t finished her milkshake, but then you spotted the gun and badge on the man's waist along with some files on the table.

NYPD. Police.

And there were photos of Alan inside the files.

It suddenly dawned on you that he must be the officer Maria had mentioned.

“Gerardo, this might be our one shot. If we can get a card for the elevator to his penthouse and sneak in, I’m sure we’ll find something useful there. It’s risky, and he knows us, so it really has to be someone he wouldn’t suspect."

"That bastard. I need him to pay for what he did. I've lost everything because of him."

It wasn't just him; everyone had endured more than enough because of his actions. In that moment, something crossed your mind.

Yes, it was undeniably dangerous.

Yes, it might be the most reckless thing you’d ever done.

Yes, it could very well be the dumbest idea you had ever had. But if it meant putting an end to that scum, then it was worth it.

“I’ll do it,” you said, glancing at both of them as they stared back at you in surprise.

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your comments, likes, and reblogs. I'd love to hear what you think about the chapter!

here's the taglist...

@balhoneysweetstuff @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @lailathepedritofan @queenofodds @darkheartgatita @ccmoonshine @suzysface @javiismyhsbnd @aurorathegreekprincess @daejangandimja @longlivekingminnn @jisungandpedrolover @urlivingdeadgirl @laliceee @sincerelywithheartt @indiegirlunited @fancyyoouu @blackborndue @shinymusicpanda @her-fandom-sanctum @aegoniipascal @zanylightmilkshake @bonadeaamo @spencercmlover @heramj @pedroloverbilmemkac @churchofjoemiller @urlivingdeadgirl @thanyatargaryen @icanbringyouinhot @universallygentlemenharmony @bitchyfestnight @sukivenue @l1zzygr0nt @pedrofan @javiismyhsbnd @00honey @brittmb115 @picketniffler @javiismyhsbnd @00honey @kneelarmhstrung @zanylightmilkshake @melsunshine @inept-the-magnificent @catofash @secretlettersfromyourlove @pedge-page @speaktothehandpeasants @krystal---meth @pasc4lfuzz @brittmb115 @behomewhenthestreetlightscomeon @kneelarmhstrung @pedrofan @l1zzygr0nt @sukivenue @cherri-zaza @krystal---meth @joelmillerpascal @harrington-thedad @darkheartgatita @javiismyhsbnd @joelmillerpascal @spencercmlover @0-moonbeam-0 @stylesispunk @sesdeuxyeux @kellyxo1 @princessnnylzays @dancingqueen21 @lizziesfirstwife

If you want me to add you to the tag list or remove you from it, just let me know! if I missed your name, I'm sorry, remind me, plz.

lots of love 💋💋❤️❤️

#fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gifs #pedro pascal fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #harry castillo x f!reader #harry castillo #harry castillo materialists #the materialists #harry castillo x you #harry castillo fanfiction #harry castillo x reader #materialists #angelwrites

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fairytaleendingss · 5 months ago

Text

Room for One More?

Chapter 11

Summary: James has had time to think during the days he'd been away and through this, has come to a shocking revelation.

CW: Swearing, creepy man being unnerving (nothing inappropriate happens though).

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

This is a shorter one but I just wanted to get something out. I have more of a solid plan now of what I want to happen next to stay tuned for some more updates soon!

You started to feel better over the next few days. Remus checked on you periodically to make sure you were making progress while Sirius hovered awkwardly, not quite sure what he was supposed to do whenever the two of you happened to be in the same vicinity.

You weren't sure what had come over him recently, but things between the two of you had been stilted to say the least.

By Wednesday you were back on your feet and back at work, meaning Remus' job was done, however, you desperately hoped that things between the two of you would continue to be civil in the aftermath. Who knows? Maybe you'd even become friends.

James was also getting home from his trip today and you were bubbling with a combination of nerves and excitement. You'd found yourself missing him while he was away. Everything had been strange, to say the least and James was the person out of all your roommates who you were the most comfortable around by far. He just had this light energy about him that was able to balance everything out around your house and without it, things had just felt off. You couldn't quite place your finger on what it was but James Potter just had a way of putting you at ease.

Although, you couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for wanting him there for your own selfish purposes. You knew things had been particularly rough for him after the revelation at New Years and you knew he needed this time to get away from everything and clear his head.

You pondered this concept as you sat back in your desk chair, pen pressed into your cheek and eyes gazing off to nowhere. When did things become so complicated? you thought to yourself.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Mary sang, sliding across the linoleum office floor on her own chair. Mary was always pretty but you took note of it today in particular. Her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a tidy bun and she had a burgundy lipstick on, one that was a departure from the usual neutral tones she went for at work.

You raised a brow at her, choosing to pass by her question.

"You look lovely. Got plans tonight?"

Mary bit her lip as she often did when she was excited.

"It's Lily and I's four month anniversary tonight! I know it sounds silly to celebrate it but if I'm being honest, it's kind of a big deal! Today marks the longest official relationship I've been in!"

"Oh my gosh! Mary, that's wonderful!" you chirped. Then you paused. "Hold on, what do you mean 'official relationship'?"

Mary sighed. "Well, technically there was this guy in high school that I talked to for like a year over Snapchat but he lived in America and we never met in person so it doesn't really count."

You rolled your eyes at her fondly. "You had an internet boyfriend?"

She gave you a gentle slap on the shoulder. "What? I was like fourteen!"

"Okay, fine. Whatever. Congratulations anyway," you replied.

"Thanks girl! Now tell me," she scooted forward slightly on her chair, leaning in as if to share a secret. "What's going on with you and Sirius?"

You sighed thickly. "Unfortunately, there's nothing to tell."

"Really?" she looked surprised. "So you still haven't talked about anything that happened on New Years... or you know, before that?"

You shook your head. "Nope. In fact, honestly, we've barely talked at all recently. It's like he's avoiding me or something."

"That's is odd," Mary muttered. "I mean Sirius isn't usually known for being subtle. For some reason I had it in my head that maybe he would've gone all prince charming and come to your aid while you were ill," she chuckled.

"Ha! No, none of that. Every time we were in the same room, he'd just stare at me like I had two heads and then stutter out some excuse to rush away."

Mary let out a genuine laugh at this. "Yeah, actually that does sound like him. He's uh, not really much of a caretaker."

"No. Well, actually, it was... um, Remus who ended up doing most of the caretaking," you muttered bashfully.

Her eyebrows shot up like rockets. "I'm sorry, WHAT? Did I just hear you say Remus, the man that supposedly can't stand you, looked after you while you were unwell this last week?"

You shrugged but you couldn't deny the way your cheeks warmed at the thought. "He was quite wonderful actually."

A playful smirk overtook her. "Yeah, I bet he was. What? Did he like, bring you soup, and stroke your hair until you fell asleep?"

"Shut up," you joked. "You read too many romance novels."

"Hey! It's not my fault that you're living out the plot of New Girl!"

"You know, it actually kind of is, right?"

She shrugged. "Well, maybe that was the plan all along. I think Remus would definitely be Nick-"

"Anyway," you stated pointedly, before her comparison could get too deep. "You should probably get going. It's after 5 and you don't want to be late for your special date tonight!"

"Oh, shit! You're right," she exclaimed, jumping from her chair and racing to grab her coat.

You chuckled to yourself as you watcher her scramble for her things, calling out a hurried "goodbye" as she headed for the exit.

You took your time packing up that night, both having nowhere to be and also not looking forward to going home. You wondered if maybe Sirius would be out working tonight but you doubted it since James was supposed to have arrived home today and you suspected they'd want to spend some time together.

"Are you heading off now then?"

You abruptly turned on your heel, eyes wide as you noticed Glenn standing closely behind you. You hated when he did that. He was always creeping up on you when you were distracted.

You gave him an awkward smile, hoping he would say a quick goodbye and then leave you be.

He returned the gesture broadly, flashing his perfectly pearly white teeth in a way that you could tell usually worked to make girls swoon. It didn't, however, work so well on you.

"Yeah. Just finishing up now."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Ah. Well I see that Mary has made an early exit. Do you need some company walking out?"

You cringed internally. There was something just so artificial about him. Like he was constantly putting on an act, displaying qualities that he thought people liked to see. But you could see right through it and honestly, it left a bad taste in your mouth.

"That's very kind but I'm okay by myself."

He shook his head stubbornly. "Nonsense! What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go alone in the cold?"

You restrained yourself from rolling your eyes. Clearly it wasn't going to be so easy to shake him off.

"Okay, then," you relented unwittingly. "Lets go."

The walk from your office on the seventh floor down to the front exit was particularly awkward. Glenn hovered at your side, not saying much but just sending you that unnerving smile of his every so often. As you approached the front steps, you were more then relieved to see a familiar figure waiting by the door.

"James! What are you doing here?"

He looked up from his phone, flashing you a genuine grin, one that made your heart feel warm, instead of causing bile to want to rise in your throat the way Glenn's did.

"Hey!"

He approached with rapid footsteps, engulfing you in his warm arms. You relaxed into his hold for a moment, savoring the feeling.

You pulled away at the sound of a throat clearing beside you. Glenn was looking between the two of you with an unreadable expression.

"Oh! Sorry," James corrected himself, only then noticing the other man. "I'm James, Y/n's roommate. Nice to meet you."

He stuck a hand out towards Glenn, which the latter man shook with a reluctant hesitation.

"Glenn Mulciber. We work together."

You didn't like the way the man was looking at James, something akin to jealously flashing across his eyes in a way that made your skin crawl.

"Well, thanks for walking me out, Glenn but James and I'd better be going. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, right. Okay," was all he said before he turned on his heel and stalked away, his demeanor suddenly very cold.

"Well, he's an odd sort of person," James observed as the two of you began the journey home.

"I'm not a fan of his, to tell you the truth," you responded. "He's weird. He kind of creeps me out."

"Hmm," James muttered thoughtfully, although you could tell his mind was elsewhere.

"You don't have to keep coming to pick me up from work, you know? I'm perfectly capable of making it home myself."

James shrugged. "I know, I just like spending time with you."

You felt your heart swim at his words and had to turn your gaze away from him in the hopes that he wouldn't see the embarrassment on your face.

"Well, um... how was your trip?"

"Good. Yeah. It was good."

He was fiddling with the hem of his coat, looking vaguely off into the distance as he spoke to you. Something seemed off about him. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what was going on.

"Is everything okay?" you questioned. "You seem nervous or something."

"Um, well," he hesitated for a moment before turning to face you. "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

You felt your heart sink into your stomach as a slew of worst case scenarios began to run through your mind. You did your best to keep composed.

"Okay, what's up?"

James released a heavy breath as if he was preparing himself for the words to follow.

"So, while I was away, I had a lot of time to think about things,"

"What kinds of things?"

"Well, you know, just everything that's been going on. When I found out about Lily and Mary back on New Years Eve, I was heartbroken..."

You sighed feeling a rush of sympathy. "Yeah, James about that, I'm really sorry. You shouldn't have had to find out that way, I-"

"No! No, it's okay!" he interrupted. "What I was going to say was actually that I was heartbroken at first. But then the more I thought about it, the more I realised, I've been in love with Lily for so long that I think at some point I just started to like the idea of us together more than I actually liked her, if that makes sense."

You sent him a look of confusion.

"That's not to say I don't like her of course," he rushed to amend. "She's a great friend and obviously she's beautiful and a wonderful person and all that but I think that I just got so comfortable with wanting her that I didn't realise when I didn't really want her anymore..."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the boy’s rambling. "James, what are you trying to say?"

Then he stopped walking suddenly and you followed suit. He turned to look at you then, his face serious and eyes ablaze with an unfamiliar friction.

"I think what I'm trying to say is... that night made me realise that I have feelings for someone else."

In that moment, despite the cold of the street, heat began to swirl around you. You felt energy of an unknown source drawing you together in a magnetic pull as James gazed down at you with a look of yearning clouding his dark eyes. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked up at him. Your eyes raked over every inch of his face; his sweet smile, the dimples in his cheeks, the stupid curls that he couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried. He was beautiful.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and your lips connected.

It was like the world faded around you. The noise of the cars and the crowds and the hustle and bustle of London in the evening, all just melted away. You didn't care that you were standing in the middle of the street, with icy tendrils of wind piercing your skin. You didn't care that you had a rock in your shoe or that your hair was blowing in your face. In that moment, all you cared about was him and the feeling of his soft lips against yours.

It wasn't desperate and passionate the way it had been with Sirius. No, James' kiss was sweeter, gentler, filled with warmth and comfort just like he was.

When you pulled back, James had a playful smirk on his face. He licked his lips, looking down at you affectionately as he used a finger to push his glasses up on his nose.

"So," he muttered. "Will you go out with me, then?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course I will, you idiot."

He laughed a little and intertwined your fingers with his own.

"Okay good. I just wanted to make sure."

You scoffed as you began to walk once more, hand in hand and smiles painted on your swollen lips.

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people, @ch4rlotte35, @insideoutjulie, @hiireadstuff, @laniirackssss, @starrystormwritings, @strategicsweetheart, @1800brat, @sammyreid, @frootloops1213, @ill-be-okay-soon-enough, @loveelylani, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @that-gay-person-27, @serenadingtigers, @lily-mylove, @arielthee-potterhead, @treefairy-28, @happycatanxie, @lettertovera, @captainlunaxmen, @ellieshifts3, @marauderslover18, @hidontmindtheintrovert

#marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #poly!marauders x reader #marauders au

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theonlyonesora · 2 months ago

Text

The Third Rule

Lily x Oscar Piastri x You (Reader)

Chapter 11 - The Goodbye Before the Truth

Oscar's last day had arrived, and despite everything, it almost felt normal.

You had told yourself — promised, actually — that once he left, you’d talk to Lily. That the moment his bags were packed and his car was pulling out of the driveway, you’d sit her down and tell her everything. Not just about Vegas. Not just about the late nights and quiet stares. About the fact that your heart had started doing something deeply inconvenient — choosing him. And that it scared you. Because you weren’t supposed to fall for your best friend’s boyfriend.

But for now, Oscar was still here. Still calm and sweet and maddeningly perceptive. Still brushing your hand a little too long when he passed the coffee, still looking at you when Lily wasn’t watching. And you? You still let him.

To your relief, the day had been uneventful. The three of you had lunch at that little café on the corner that smelled like basil and rosemary. You’d laughed. Real laughter, the kind that didn’t feel guilty or forced. You all walked along the boulevard in the afternoon sun, ice cream melting down napkins, sunglasses pushed into hair, and shoulders brushing just enough to remember what happened… and what shouldn’t have.

At some point, Oscar leaned in and said quietly, “Thank you for today. It felt like how it used to be.”

You nodded and smiled — but inside, you weren’t sure what that meant. Used to be? When, exactly?

By evening, you were back at the apartment. Oscar had packed, Lily was on the couch scrolling through her phone, and you were in your room, pretending to read but really just thinking. You kept repeating the same line in your head like a mantra:

Once he’s gone, you’ll talk to her.

And maybe it would hurt. Maybe Lily would cry. Maybe she would never look at you the same way again. But maybe she deserved the truth. And maybe you deserved peace.

Lily was in the shower, humming softly behind a closed door. She always sang when she was happy. That made it worse.

Oscar’s flight was in a few hours. You told yourself that once he left, everything would go back to normal. You’d talk to Lily. You’d find the right words. You’d explain that this wasn’t who you were. That none of this had ever really felt like yours to begin with.

You were in the kitchen, carefully pouring hot water over the tea leaves, focusing on the steam curling up from the mug. The quiet footsteps behind you didn’t startle you—you already knew who it was.

His arms slipped around your waist like they had done too many times before. Familiar, warm. A weight you didn’t want to carry anymore.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Oscar murmured against your neck, voice low and certain like he already knew the effect it had on you.

You shut your eyes, your grip tightening on the edge of the counter. “Oscar…”

“It’s fine,” he said before you could say the rest. “We talked about it. Lily doesn’t mind, you know that.”

“Still…” you whispered. “She’s right there.”

“So are we,” he said. His hands moved down your sides, slow, like he was trying to remind you of something your body already remembered. “Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

And that’s when you knew.

This wasn’t just about Lily anymore. This wasn’t about the three of you figuring out how to love one another equally or navigating some chaotic new definition of relationship. This was about him. And you.

It had shifted somewhere along the way—and you weren’t ready for what that meant.

When he kissed you, you didn’t push him away.

But you also didn’t kiss him back.

Your hands stayed on the counter. Your eyes stayed closed. You let him pretend everything was okay. That you were still part of this strange, shared story.

Just one last time, you told yourself.

Even though you knew the moment he left, nothing would feel the same.

His hand slipped under your skirt, fingertips trailing up the back of your thigh with infuriating ease, like he knew every part of you that would give in first. You froze, eyes locked on the steam still rising from the mug. The air felt too warm, too heavy, like your body couldn’t quite remember how to say no even if your mind was screaming it.

“Oscar…” you said again, breath catching somewhere between protest and plea.

He kissed your shoulder, then your neck—slow, deliberate, like he was giving you every chance to pull away and knowing you wouldn’t. His other hand moved to lift your skirt, and you didn’t stop him. You couldn’t.

The world outside narrowed to the soft rhythm of Lily’s shower in the background, the sound of your breathing, and the quiet rasp of his voice at your ear.

“Tell me this isn’t what you want,” he said.

But you didn’t.

You just braced yourself on the counter as he pressed against you—familiar, dangerous, inevitable. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound when the space between you disappeared completely. His hands steadied you, your breath quickened, and the kitchen—the entire moment—faded into something far too intimate to name.

You kept telling yourself it was the last time. That once he walked out that door tonight, this version of you would leave with him.

But a part of you already knew the truth: Something about this would always stay behind.

Oscar knocked on your door once, soft and polite. You turned, surprised he hadn’t just gone to say goodbye.

“I’m heading out,” he said, eyes lingering in that way they always did now. “Wanted to say bye.”

You stood, heart somewhere between your throat and your knees. You smiled and walked over, opening your arms to hug him like friends do. Like friends only do.

But when his arms wrapped around you, they lingered. And for one unbearable second, you felt his lips brush your temple.

“I’ll see you,” he murmured.

You nodded, silent.

And when the door closed behind him… you felt everything and nothing all at once.

Now it was just you and Lily. And no more excuses.

It was late when you knocked on Lily’s bedroom door.

She was curled up on her bed, scrolling on her phone, hair still damp from her shower. The quiet hum of the city outside filtered through the window, and for a moment, you almost turned back.

But she looked up with a tired, knowing smile. “Hey. Everything okay?”

You nodded, then shook your head. “Can I sit?”

She shifted to make room. You sat beside her, hands fidgeting in your lap, and for a moment neither of you said anything.

“I wanted to talk about… everything,” you finally began, eyes fixed on the wall. “Vegas. The time we’ve spent together. You and Oscar.”

Lily’s face softened, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I liked it,” you admitted. “It was fun, and new, and for a while, I think I needed that. But it’s not… it’s not something I can keep doing.”

You glanced at her, relieved to see she was just listening. “I’m not ready for that kind of relationship. I don’t think I ever will be. And I don’t want to keep dragging something out that could end up hurting you. You mean too much to me.”

Lily looked down, nodding slowly. “Thank you for being honest,” she said. “I know it wasn’t easy.”

“I just want us to go back to being friends,” you added softly. “I miss that. I miss you, not… all the confusion.”

She let out a breath and leaned her head on your shoulder.

“I’ll talk to Oscar,” she murmured. “If this is how you feel, then we let it go. No drama, no hard feelings. Just… us.”

A tight knot in your chest eased at her words, and you wrapped your arms around her in a quiet hug. She held you back, warm and reassuring.

Maybe things wouldn’t be exactly like they were before—but for the first time in weeks, you felt like they could be okay again.

Tag List:

@freyathehuntress, @mimisweetz, @aleatorio1234, @totallynotluluu, @rorabelle15, @prongslena, @linnygirl09, @mangotaitai, @forensicheart, @devilacot, @lilorose25, @landofotographyy, @paolexsstuff, @sanctify-mp3, @emma-manuhpe, @virtualperfectioncat

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jenctrl · 11 months ago

Text

Scattered Reflection kim minji

pairing; idol!minji x non!idol reader

synopsis; Despite being together for a year, Y/n can't help but feel like Minji is keeping her at arms length whenever she gets hit with the reality of how secretive their relationship is and the pain it causes her to keep it from everyone close to her.

genre; smau, written-chapters, angst, fluff, comedy

warnings; relationship problems, parental issues, trauma, mentions of mental health, toxic industry, tba, each part will come with warnings if there are any

updates; sundays

status; ongoing

starring; newjeans (minji, hanni, danielle), le sserafim (yunjin, kazuha), enhypen (jungwon) oc's, tba

a/n; im very busy atm, but still wanted to do this so im gonna try my best to get the parts out every sunday for yall (keep in mind there might be delays)

group chats; pantaloons | eva-pilots | extras

parts;

1 - Compass

2 - Homotron 3000

3 - Only when it works for you

4 - Anxious (stomach ache)

5 - Hanni's anti-psychotics

6 - Lovesick

7 - Sick and guilty

8 - Brat summer

9 - Newlyweds anti

10 - Capable of love

10.5 - Beautiful girls

11 - Everybody's business (not lonely)

12 - Waste your time on me

13 - Another excuse

14 - Investigating

15 - No time for consideration

16 - Inconvenience

16.5 - Back off

17 - Void

18 - Don't take it to heart Yunjoon

19 - Rotten skin

20 - Fear of dying

21 - Great people and nightmares

22 - Indeed not a joke

23 - Left out

23.5 - They before me

24 - Losing it (real time)

25 - Suki desu

25.5 - In my bed (what about me?)

26 - Guilt and relief

27 - Balance

28 - The witch hunt begins

29 - Ducking

tba!

taglist! (closed) - @yxlis @pandafuriosa60 @sixflame438 @drvirgus @baelabong @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @dollydigital @yncoreee @multiliker @yoontoonwhs @dreamingst99 @1luvkarina @arihiu @gtfoiydlyj @celestialsequels @starstruckgoateepuppy @yeetaberry127 @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @onlyhyunjin @awkwardtoafault @jisooftme @phamianaz @luvvhaerin @jennasluma @justdelulumeh @mianiz @he------len @ryujinshotsexywife @sol3chu

#newjeans smau #newjeans x reader #newjeans minji #minji x reader #minji imagines #newjeans #kim minji x reader #kpop smau #newjeans fanfic #kpop gg #newjeans imagines #newjeans minji x reader #idol x reader

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hwaslayer · 4 months ago

Text

the space between us three (jyh) | eight.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, smut

⇢word count: 7.3k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, a glimpse of seora in her athlete mode, more yunho x seora moments, more yunho x oc moments hehe, yunho opens up to oc about eunha, making out, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), soft sex!!, lots of tender moments

⇢on rotation: be alright - yunho | savior - kyuri

“Ace." Yunho calls for Seora just as she's about to run off to the court. "Goodluck. Kill 'em out there, hm?" Seora smiles up at her dad before doing their handshake.

"Will do my best, daddy-o!" She salutes before running towards the coach and her team, setting up on one side of the court. Yunho settles onto a seat in the bleachers of the school gym, making sure to leave some space for Mingi— whenever he gets here.

Yunho waves and acknowledges a few parents walking in, all of them staying within the same area of the bleachers to support their kids in front of them, the right team. He takes a moment when a select few squeeze him on the shoulder or come to sit next to him for a quick chat, checking in on him and seeing if he's doing okay. He appreciates the gesture, and he also appreciates seeing what everyone has been up to since he doesn't normally do much with the other parents besides Chan-mi's.

And that's really only to coordinate shopping dates or sleepovers.

Just as tipoff is about to begin and the teams getting ready out on the court, Mingi comes strolling in, plopping himself right next to his bestfriend.

"About time." Yunho says with a small laugh. "Almost missed tipoff."

"I would never." Mingi and Yunho look out to the court, watching as Seora gets herself situated in the center for tipoff. She gets into position, bending at the knee ever so slightly to prepare for the jump. She quickly looks over at her dad, giving him a subtle nod when he acknowledges her by tapping the left side of his chest where his heart is. She gives him a tiny nod right before the ref blows the whistle and tosses the ball up.

Seora times herself perfectly and jumps up for the ball— able to tip it into their side of the court first.

Yunho and Mingi cheer loudly, watching as she storms down the court to execute a play. They continue to watch the team score repeated baskets, Mingi finding it a good point to start bringing up a conversation with his bestfriend

"So.. I see Hwa couldn't make it." Mingi chuckles a bit, making Yunho subtly shake his head.

"Well, Yoori was gonna find out sooner than later." Yunho responds, keeping his eye on the court and cheering in between.

"Is he with her right now?"

"Yeah, he is. I think she pulled an ultimatum on him. It's either he gets his shit together and starts getting serious or she's done completely."

⇢FLASHBACK

Seonghwa isn't sure if he feels guilty about what he did during the club, and maybe that speaks volumes as to where he stands with everything. Because he's not gonna lie, he did enjoy it. Noeul was fun. She's like that shiny new toy that he's still excited over.

But yet, he's here. Having coffee with Yoori because a part of him feels like he needs to make it up to her without really making it up to her.

To try to figure out what it is he really wants.

To see if Noeul really is just that shiny new toy to him and if his heart has truly belonged to Yoori all this time.

He doesn't wanna think anymore.

And his mind agrees when the buzzer on the table goes off, signaling their drinks are ready to be picked up. Seonghwa doesn't really think at all, leaving his phone behind to go pick up the drinks at the counter and return the buzzer. Yoori keeps her gaze outside of the window until Seonghwa's phone vibrates on the table, causing her eyes to shift down to the notifications coming up on the screen.

Noeul?

She knows of her, but they've never really interacted like that.

And as far as she knows, Seonghwa hasn't either until now, apparently.

When Seonghwa comes back to the table, he can easily tell the mood has dropped. Yoori's got her brows knitted, her chin resting on the palm of her hand.

"Here." He carefully passes her coffee over.

"Since.. when did you know Noeul?"

"Oh, cause of Yunho and Y/N."

"But, you guys text like that?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Since when?"

"Since we all hung out. What's with the questions?"

"News to me."

"I can't make friends?" She rolls her eyes and sips her coffee. Intuition tells her that it's definitely more than that because why the hell is he suddenly making a new friend? One that's sending him text after text.

Let's not forget the emoji next to her name.

He doesn't do that shit. Even if she put it in his phone herself, he would've changed it so quick.

"Yoori. I know you're not mad about that."

"I know you're not lying to me again." Seonghwa is taken aback by the statement, but deep down, he's honestly panicking and losing it. Anxious.

Does she know exactly what happened?

"What happened when you guys went out?"

"Nothing!" He says a little too defensively, and it's definitely the cherry on top for Yoori to start tossing her things into her bag— setting her untouched coffee aside. "What are you doing?"

"Why the hell am I here if you're just gonna keep lying to my face, Seonghwa? Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Yoori, I—"

"You know what." She looks at him. "We do this time and time again, and I don't know why I put myself through this when we aren't even serious. Why the fuck do I bend over backwards for you when I know you wouldn't do the same for me?" She scoffs.

"Wait, wait. Stop. Just sit. Let me explain, will you?" She sighs, pausing in her motions. "I— I fucked up. But, it didn't mean anything to me. I was just drunk and she just happened to be all over me and—"

"If you're gonna keep pulling this, I'm done. I'm not doing this anymore, I'm done—"

"Yoori, please. It wasn't shit. It was literally just a drunk night out and I'm sorry I fucked up. It didn't mean anything to me, she didn't mean anything."

"Then why are you guys still texting? Do you want to be with her?"

"No."

"Then?"

"I'm just being nice."

⇢END

"Do you think he has feelings for Noeul, though?"

"I don't think so." Yunho lets out a breath. "Which is unfortunate that he had to pick her that night because Y/N told me she thinks Noeul is already super smitten with him despite the circumstances."

"Oh shit, really?"

"I mean, think about it." Yunho looks at him. "He was hella handsy with her, wouldn't leave her alone all night. Grabbed her number and texted her for awhile, then distanced himself when Yoori found out."

"Yeah, I guess you've got a point."

"And Yoori didn't even find out through Seonghwa, it was seeing Noeul's name pop up on his phone for the first time ever. She had to question him about it."

"Yikes, maybe he should've played his cards right." Yunho furrows his brows at him.

"Maybe the both of you should stop playing games in general. The hell am I gonna do with you two?" Yunho returns his attention to the court, finding Seora in the middle of a steal before barreling down the court into a layup. She makes the shot, but her momentum crashes her right into the wall— causing Yunho to stand.

"Ace!" Yunho calls out. She winces a bit and grabs at her shoulder before she's sprinting back down to the court. She throws him a quick thumbs up before he's slowly sitting back down and watching his daughter slip herself back into the game with ease.

"Jesus. She plays hard."

"Always." Yunho lets out the breath he's been holding.

"Competitive as hell like you."

"Well." Yunho chuckles a bit.

"How are you and Y/N doing?"

"Good." He smiles at Mingi. "Really good."

"So, what's the plan here? Ace still doesn't know?"

"No, she doesn't. But, I plan on telling her soon."

"You're making it official?"

"I want to, yeah. I haven't really planned how, or if I should tell Seora and get them to hang out first. I don't know. I'm at the point of just.. going with whatever feels right. Whatever comes first, however it should come first."

"You're not scared, are you?"

"I am. I just know Seora's gonna have a hard time adjusting."

"You never know, it could be different."

"Maybe. But, it's the first time someone else is coming into our lives after Eunha." Mingi nods silently, cheering along when Seora's team makes another shot to keep them in the lead.

"It'll all work out, okay?" Mingi gives his shoulder a squeeze. "She wants you to be happy, and I know she'll warm up to Y/N. She's a sweetheart, there's no way Seora wouldn't enjoy having her around."

"I just don't know how to make it clear that we're not replacing her mom. Ever."

"She'll know. She'll understand, even if it takes some time." Mingi breaks away from the court and briefly glances around, his eyes falling on the entrance. "Hey, isn't that Ara?" Yunho turns his head to see Ara sliding onto a bleacher next to a few people.

"Oh, shit. Yeah." Her eyes land on Yunho's and at first, she's surprised. Then, her smile dies down and she gives him a tiny wave that he returns.

"That'll be fun."

"Guess she's meeting Seora."

"You two still haven't talked?"

"Nah. Which is fine, but.. it’d suck if she was really holding a grudge against me."

"She'll get over it."

"Mm, I still care about her as a friend so yeah, hopefully things will get better between us." Yunho and Mingi continue to watch the game until the tiny half-time break in between. Seora quickly raises over to greet her Uncle Mingi in all her sweaty glory, teasing him and playing around before heading back to the team.

The rest of the game goes by eventfully— lots of ups and downs between scores, keeping the crowd on edge. This would be the game that would secure their spot in the playoffs, so both teams were giving their best.

In the end though, Seora makes the winning shot and Yunho finds that these are the moments that make him proud to be her father. She has grit, she's smart and she's independent— Eunha would be so happy to see how much she's grown and who this young lady is today. Yunho and Mingi cheer loudly, along with the other parents, standing and yelling as the team celebrates on the court with group hugs. Once the hype has died down, they congratulate the other team for their hardwork on the court, exchanging good sportsmanship before it all ends and the players are finding their way back to their parents and families.

"Goodjob, ace!" Mingi ruffles her hair before Yunho pulls her into a big hug and swings her around.

"That's my girl." Seora laughs as Yunho gives her one final hug and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "You did amazing out there, ace."

"Why, thank you." She does a bow.

"Starving?"

"Majorly."

"What do you wanna eat?"

"Can I come?"

"No, you just want me to buy you food." Seora laughs at her dad and uncle bickering.

"Daddy, just let him come." Yunho clicks his teeth.

"Fine, but we play russian roulette."

"Fine! Where should we go?"

"You know all the good spots."

"Ace, what're you craving for?" Mingi scrolls through his phone with her. Just as they get busy scoping their options, Ara walks over, a small smile on the corner of her lips.

"Hey."

"Oh, hey." He nods at her. "What're you doing around these parts?" She chuckles.

"My niece is on the other team. I should've known I'd see you here. I don't know why it didn't click for me." Yunho chuckles.

"All good—"

"Dad, we finally found a spot." Seora tugs on his wrist, making him turn his attention to her. She looks at him, then at Ara, then raises a brow.

"Nice." He sees the questioning look on Seora's face. "Uh, this is Ara. She's a nurse at the hospital."

"Hey Seora, you did amazing out there!" Seora tugs on her bag straps and smiles. "Congrats on making it to the playoffs. My niece was on the other team and said you guys were really good. It was a tough game."

"Thank you!" She laughs a bit. "Now I gotta work extra hard on the next ones." Ara laughs.

"I'm sure you'll make it all the way to the end with that drive." Seora nods. "Anyway, there's an ice cream truck outside. You should convince your dad to let you get some before you head out." Her eyes light up as she looks at her dad.

"Oh, please?! I played so hard today!" Yunho laughs.

"Okay, go." He hands over his card.

"Chan-mi! There's ice cream! Let's go, I have my dad's card!"

"Aye, not the whole truck, though!" He calls out, making Mingi laugh behind him.

"Well, it was nice seeing you and meeting Seora. She seems sweet." She pauses for a bit. "See you around?"

"Yeah, it was. I'll see you." Yunho responds before she's off to meet her family, talking to Seora and Chan-min a bit when she falls in line behind them with her niece.

"That wasn't so bad."

"I guess so. Still felt awkward." Yunho looks at Mingi. "So, where are we eating?"

"Shake Shack. She saw it come up and got super juiced about it."

"Okay, fair."

"You covering for me?"

"The fuck am I? Your sugar daddy?"

"If you wanna be." Mingi smiles.

"You're full of shit—" Yunho glares at him.

"Dad!" He shifts his attention to his daughter, who is also dragging Chan-mi by the arm with their ice cream in hand. "Can I sleepover Chan-mi's again tonight? Please! I forgot our show has a new season releasing and we wanna watch it together!"

"Seora, you were literally just at their house last weekend. Why don't you guys stay at the house this time?"

"Because we wanna go to the community pool, too. Please!" She pleads again.

"I promise it's okay, my parents said yes." Chan-mi softly says with a small nod, making Yunho chuckle.

"Okay, fine. But, you need to give them a break, Seora."

"Yeah, sure!" She squeals with Chan-mi just as her parents come.

"Sorry, I really appreciate you guys taking her for another weekend." Yunho says to her parents and they give him a reassuring nod, laughing it off.

"Swear, Yunho. It's fine with us. We love having her over. Take more time for yourself." Chan-mi's dad squeezes his shoulder after a few pats.

"Thank you. Next time is on me." He responds before looking at Seora. "We need to eat and you need to pack up some things." He pinches her cheek, making her whine in protest. "What time can I bring her over?"

"Oh, we can pick her up in a few hours? We were going to be in the neighborhood to stop by his uncle's birthday party." Chan-mi's mom says, pointing at her father.

"You sure?"

"Yes! 100%." She laughs.

"Alright, thank you." Yunho shifts his attention back to Seora. "Let's go so you can be ready for when they pick you up."

"Okay!" She waves. "See you later!" Yunho and Mingi bid their farewells before they're splitting ways and off to Shake Shack.

After Shake Shack [that Mingi graciously paid for], Yunho brings his bestfriend home since he took an Uber earlier— claiming he was too lazy to drive and deal with traffic. Seora continues to poke fun at her uncle from behind his seat, poking him and pinching him before laughing loudly. Yunho thoroughly enjoys seeing them like this, especially when they bicker playfully like they did while eating. Seora is the same with Seonghwa, but she does it a lot less knowing he doesn't have as much patience as Mingi.

She loves him nonetheless. She wouldn't stop asking for Seonghwa during their meal, wondering why he couldn't make it to the game and Yunho couldn't really explain.

Too bad she could already sense it had something to do with ‘Miss Yoori that popped up on his phone.’ All Mingi and Yunho could do was shrug. Well, until Mingi ratted him out and said he did something that she wasn't happy about so he was trying to make up for it.

Which, leads Yunho to where he is now: loading the laundry before Seora pops next to him with a grave question.

"So, dad."

"Yup?" Yunho is tossing the clothes into the wash.

"What exactly did Uncle Hwa do to make him spend all his time with her? To make up for it?"

"Trust me, you don't wanna know. You can't, anyway."

"Why not? He kissed someone else?" She helps throw the clothes into the wash. Yunho doesn't answer, and that's enough of an answer for her than anything else. "But, they aren't serious, right?"

"Ace. It doesn't matter if they're serious or not. You don't do that to someone you claim to care about and spend a lot of time with. You're just hurting all parties involved. So yeah, Uncle Hwa has a lot of things to fix and work on."

"Huh." She says, closing the door for her dad so he can immediately run the wash and get things going.

"Yeah, huh." Yunho mocks her before laughing. "Are you packed? Chan-mi will probably be here any minute now."

"Yup."

"Charger?"

"Yes."

"Your prescription cream?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Yunho heads to the kitchen to sort through the fridge and see if there's anything he can whip up for himself.

"What're you gonna do when I leave?"

"Well first of all, find myself something to eat. Gotta get some groceries tomorrow for sure."

"Hang out with Uncle Mingi again?"

"No, god no. I've had enough for a day." Seora laughs. "I can just hang out here all by myself since my little one likes to leave so much."

"Daddy." Seora clings onto him like a koala, making him laugh. "I won't sleepover for awhile after this! We can go on our usual dates. Camping!" She reminds him and he nods, dragging her along to his room while she clings on.

"If you say so." Suddenly, her phone starts blaring in the kitchen. She quickly hops off to look out the window in her dad's room seeing Chan-mi's car out front.

"She's here!" She squeals loudly and rushes to the living room to grab her phone and all her things. "See you later!"

"Hey, hold on." Yunho comes out furrowing his brows. "You're gonna leave without a proper goodbye? For real?" She laughs before waddling over to hug him tightly, letting her dad plant a kiss to the top of her head. "Be safe, have fun, don't give them unnecessary headaches, please."

"I won't." Seora whines a bit. "I'll text you when I'm ready tomorrow?" Yunho nods.

"Love you, ace. Call me tonight."

"Will do!" She waves before rushing out the door, leaving Yunho to stand behind and wave at Chan-mi's parents as he watches his daughter throw her things into their trunk and climb into the backseat. Soon, they drive off with one last goodbye, leaving Yunho to his lonesome.

He lets out a sigh as he drags himself into the house to finish cleaning around. He loves the fact that Seora has a close group of friends she can surround herself with, but he truly does hate these moments when he's home alone. No Seora to fill the void, the empty space.

It feels so fucking lonely.

Yunho tries to brush off the feeling until he's done with his chores, neatly folding all of the laundry and setting Seora's half onto her bed so she can put it away when she gets back. He looks at the clock noticing it's already past 6pm and the sun is setting. He makes his way to the convenience store, deciding to call you on his way over in case you were already back from spending the day with the girls. You had told him Noeul wanted to get her mind off of things so you and Sian offered to take her out for some retail therapy.

Luckily, you answer just as he swings the door open to the store, a smile instantly coming up on his face.

You must be back.

"Hello?" Yunho bites his lip.

"Hey you." He slowly walks the aisles, trying to gauge what he's in the mood for.

"Yunho, hi." You giggle. "You okay?"

"I will be. Maybe. Depending on the answer to my next question."

"And what question is that?"

"Free tonight? My tiny bestfriend left me to go be with her other bestfriend." You laugh.

"Aw, sleepover at Chan-mi's again?"

"Mhm. Kinda lonely." Yunho teases.

"Well, you're in luck cause I am��free now. What do you wanna do?"

"Just chill. Head to the beach or something with some convenience store food."

"I'm down for that."

"Want anything specific, love?"

"No, anything you choose is good with me." You laugh. "Surprise me."

"Cool. Can I pick you up in the next 30 minutes?"

"Of course you can."

"See you soon, baby." You smile to yourself. You set down the phone and quickly change into something more fitting for the beach, even though it's not too cold out. You slip on a matching, two piece grey sweatsuit— your jacket halfway zipped, a cami poking out from underneath. You take your turn to tidy up around your apartment, setting out new plugins to make your space smell fresh. You clean up the little trinkets and other items laid out across your coffee table, kitchen counter, bathroom and nightstand before getting your purse together and grabbing your shoes.

Just in time for Yunho to make his way up and to your door.

You hear Yunho lightly knock three times, making the butterflies in your tummy go wild. You swing the door open, immediately smiling when you see him leaning against the wall with a small bouquet in hand.

"Yunho." You poke out your bottom lip as you hug him tightly.

"Hey beautiful." You pull back and kiss him on the lips. "These are for you."

"I swear, you always pick the best bouquets." You smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He taps your nose, making you scrunch it in return.

"Let me get them in some water then we can go."

"No rush." You hurry off to find a free vase to stick them into, giving them a good amount of water to sit in.

"Where'd you get these?"

"Don't worry about it." You laugh, gently setting the vase on the table near the doorway.

"We don't keep secrets between us."

"We don't. Except this. Let me handle buying the flowers for you." You shake your head and lock your door, letting Yunho slip his hand into yours effortlessly as you head down the steps.

"Can't even protest." Yunho swings the door open for you and waits until you slide in to get comfortable before shutting the door close.

"Thanks for hanging out with me, pretty."

"You don't have to thank me, Yunho. I love spending time with you." He smiles as he drives off towards the nearby beach. "How was Seora's game today? I'm sorry, I was so busy earlier just trying to keep up with Noeul and Sian."

"Good! They're off to the playoffs." Yunho chuckles.

"Aw, yay! Congrats! I'm sure they'll push it all the way through to the championships."

"Hope so! Ace is pretty competitive so I don't think she'll let it go unless they win it."

"Does she get that from you?" You tease and he nods.

"Honestly, hell yeah she does."

"Cute." You look at Yunho and gently press his hand to your lips while he continues to drive. He smiles, but you can tell there's something else on his mind. You assume he might just be thinking about Seora or he might just tired; but, something in his eyes says it's deeper than that, and you're not sure what it is.

"How was Noeul?" He softly breaks the silence with the question.

"I don't know, Yu. She seemed to be okay today, but she plays it off well. I know she's still thinking about it and is bothered by it, though."

"Mmyeah. I'm sorry, I don't really know what's up with Hwa." Yunho lets out a breath, driving effortlessly towards the beach. "I don't know what he wants and he doesn't know what he wants. He keeps saying he isn't ready for a relationship, but runs back to Yoori every time they get into an argument or fight."

"Then, he needs to figure this out soon before they both get deeply hurt. Did he say anything else about that night?"

"Not really. He tries not to talk about it around us. Well, especially me, because he knows I'll tell him stuff he doesn't wanna hear right now."

"Noeul also gets pretty attached. But, I think Hwa should have told her the truth. They were texting nonstop for awhile until he slowly stopped then ghosted her completely."

"I'm sorry, love. If I could, I'd talk to him, but I can't dictate what he does."

"I know. But, I'm sure he'll figure it out. Hopefully." You look at Yunho as he exits and starts cutting his way through the neighborhood to get to the beach.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, though. I hope she's okay. I'm not gonna say Hwa is a bad person cause he's not. He's just conflicted when it comes to what he wants in terms of a relationship."

"That's okay. It'll come to him. Noeul will be okay."

"Does she have feelings for him already?"

"I think so, but she's trying hard to suppress it." He finally pulls down the street and parks in front of the beach, letting out a sigh as he parks the car. He gives you a tiny, toothless smile and presses your fingers against his lips— giving your hand a squeeze.

"Let's go and chill out on the sand." You nod. When you exit the car, Yunho grabs two blankets and a bag of food from the convenience store. He tells you that he grabbed fresh beef kimbap from the store, along with some fresh sweet potatoes, chips and other little goodies. He sets the blanket down before taking your hand when he sits. You snuggle up closely to him, letting the blanket drape over both of your shoulders.

The evening is still beautiful out— you and Yunho watching the last bits of the sun rest below the horizon as you eat and enjoy in small conversation about Seora, your family. Yunho reminisces about his childhood, remembering the days his dad used to take him to baseball and soccer games. Or, how his mom used to treat him to ice cream every time he got good grades on his school work. You feel sad for him when he talks about how things have drastically changed in their relationship and how he wishes he could have that back.

But, it can never be the same. Things can never go back to the way they were.

There's a small pause that allows you to break the sweet potato in half, sharing the other with Yunho while you listen to the waves crash along the shore and kids chasing after the water nearby. You lean your head against Yunho's arm while you hold onto it, finding comfort and solace in just being with him.

Then, things shift.

And you'll forever remember this moment as the time Yunho finally opened up to you about everything.

The moment he was vulnerable, the moment he gave himself to you. The moment you were his and vice versa.

The moment you knew this was real.

"Despite the ups and downs, Eunha was always the peacemaker." He suddenly says, causing you to perk up and look at him— resting your chin on his arm as you listen closely and attentively. "She saw how my relationship with my parents crumbled over the years, especially when we kept Seora. But, she always gave them the benefit of the doubt. Always tried to see the other side of it regardless of how pissed off or frustrated I was. She tried to get me to see their side no matter what. She always tried to stay positive about everything." You continue to rub his arm affectionately, watching the way his Adam's apple bobs. He licks his lips, pausing in between his statements. You can tell he's digging up everything he's tucked away for so long; finally releasing all this pent up sadness, anger.

All this blue and grey.

The cloud that's been following him after all these years.

"When she passed, I didn't realize how much I needed that until I didn't have it anymore. It was just me, Seora and my thoughts."

"Yunho." You call for him softly and he looks down at you with a gentle smile. "Eunha seems like such a beautiful person."

"She is, yeah. She turned everything into something positive. She saw the silver lining regardless of how hard things got. She was always smiling, always happy to talk to people. She was the definition of selfless, always thinking about everyone else before herself. Always giving and giving, but never asking for anything in return. She loved going to the beach, being outdoors. She loved being crafty." Yunho chuckles a bit. "Seora's laugh, the way she gets loud and loves being super social. Loves journaling and scrapbooking. It's all Eunha. I see Eunha through Seora in so many different ways."

"She'll always be with you through Seora." You continue to rub his arm as he continues to look out at the water. There's a long pause before Yunho starts diving head first into the memories he purposely tried to forget. Afraid the pain will break him all over again.

Afraid he'll never recover.

"She was a graveyard nurse at a small hospice center nearby." Yunho says quietly. "That night—" He pauses and looks down at his hands, pressing his tongue to his cheek. You give his arm a quick squeeze to reassure him and it somewhat helps. He looks back out to the ocean and continues, although it's clear he's trying hard to hold back his tears. "She picked up another shift because they were short staffed. And even though she had been so tired, she volunteered. She loved that place, she loved her job. She believed she needed to be there, especially for the people who didn't have family stopping by to check on them during their last days. It was hard, but she really, really gave her life to that place." He sighs. "I kept telling her not to, especially if she was exhausted. Told her to give herself a break, let other people pick up the slack. But, she insisted. So, I let her go despite knowing I should've fought harder to keep her home so she could rest. I didn't think it'd be the last time I'd see her. I quickly said bye, gave her a kiss on the forehead and sent her off without thinking much about it. She was so close to home before a drunk driver collided head-on with her and that was it." He lets his tears fall freely, making you cry with him. He sniffs, quickly wiping away at his nose before he picks his head back up again. "Her parents seemed to have placed some kind of blame on me for her passing. And after all these years, it made me believe that it was my fault. It was my fault for not trying to stop her, for not thinking twice about sending her off that day."

"None of this was your fault, Yu."

"Then, why do I still feel like I should've done more?" He meets your eyes.

"This was out of your control." You say quietly. "You did your best no matter what, but there was nothing you could do to stop this. It's the shittiest thing about life, knowing our cards are laid out for us already."

"I know, but at the same time, I wonder why it had to be her that night." He nibbles on his bottom lip, preventing it from trembling too much. "It still hurts until this day and I'm tired of wondering when it'll go away. I haven't even gone to visit her at the cemetery because I can't find the strength to."

"You just need to take your time with it. Everyone processes grief differently, and it doesn't matter how long it takes. But, you need to let yourself process it and feel it out. You can't keep it tucked away forever, babe." You run your hand through his hair to try and ease him. "You have me, and I'll always listen to you on your good and bad days. Let's get through this together." He lets out another small, shaky breath. Suddenly, you hear his cries picking up, making you hold onto him tighter;

Hoping he could feel your comfort through your soft, reassuring touches.

"I lost her so suddenly, I didn't know what to do for the longest time." Yunho cries while you both continue listening to the waves crash against the sand. "I didn't even get to say goodbye properly and hold her one last time. The last picture I have of her is when I got the hospital and she was already gone." You feel the tears constantly welling up in your eyes as you watch Yunho finally release the feelings he had been harboring all these years. "I just— everything crumbled so quickly and I didn't even have time to process it. I've forced myself to bury this for so long because I didn't want Seora to think anything was wrong." You shake your head. "But, for the longest time, everything felt wrong. I felt so sad and empty, and I miss her so much every day." He cries harder.

"I'm so sorry, love. You didn't deserve any of that." You cup his cheeks and gently caress the surface, thumb swiping away at the tears that fall. "You both didn't deserve any of that."

"There's not a day that I don't think about her. But, it's so hard. It's been so hard." He can barely get out before he's crying more, leaning into your touch.

"And you're so strong. She sees it every day, she's with you every day. She never left. And I know she's so, so proud of you overcoming everything with Seora. For the way you two have persevered and blossomed from all of this." You look him in the eyes. "She is so happy to see how you've handled everything with so much grace and she knows you both love her so much. She knows, and she sees it." You cry, continuing to wipe his tears away until it subsides a bit.

"Life has been so fucking hard without her."

"She never left, Yu. She's with you and Seora always." You repeat. He lets out a breath, his tears slowly coming to a stop when he gets a moment to gather himself. But, he can say that after all of this, he feels so relieved. Like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders because of this much needed release.

With you being here by his side.

"I'm sorry, baby." He laughs a bit to make the moment a little more lighthearted. "I didn't mean to."

"I'm glad you did, though. You needed to. And I'll always be here for you, no matter what. I meant it." He looks at you, staring deep into your eyes. He sees so much sincerity, so much comfort, so much love, and he sees Eunha.

Like Eunha sent you to be here with him, to be with him, to take care of him and Seora.

And that gives him the final push he needed to finally let her go, to release everything he's been needing to release into the ocean. Into the night sky.

To the moon.

You were genuinely heaven sent.

"Why don't we go see Eunha tomorrow? Together?" Yunho's lips curve into a tiny smile before he slides his hand into yours and gives it a good squeeze— kissing the surface before placing a kiss to your temple.

"Okay." Is all he says. "Thank you, Y/N. For being here for me."

"Always."

"No, you really have no idea how much I appreciate you." You look up at him as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "I needed this. And I wouldn't want anyone else to be here with me." You give him a toothless smile before the two of you sit in silence.

In peace.

After another half hour of just talking about life and showing you pictures Seora sent from Chan-mi's house, you and Yunho finally pack up and head back to your place. The ride is quiet, with the music softly filing the space while you continue to hold Yunho's free hand tightly. During the ride, you go back and forth between letting him be and asking him to stay because you aren't sure how he feels after the moment at the beach. You want to give him space, you want to avoid being too clingy and not giving him room to breathe.

But, you already hate the fact that you'll be home in the next 5 minutes and you won't be having Yunho until tomorrow again.

When he parks, he leans his head back against the head rest and looks over at you fondly, giving you a small, tired smile.

"Thank you again for coming out with me tonight."

"Always." You respond before he slips out to help you out of the car and up the steps. You get to your door, with Yunho behind you— hands dug deep into his pockets. "Goodnight, Yunho." You turn to him.

"Goodnight, beautiful." He gently grabs you by the arm to kiss you tenderly on the lips. "I'll see you tomorrow before I get Seora." You nod. There's something in the air that makes you feel like you should just ask him to stay, especially when he takes a few steps backwards, finding it difficult to pull his eyes off of you. And you, the same.

"Actually, Yu."

"Hm?" He hums and pauses just as he's about to go down the steps.

"Wanna stay?"

"Y-you sure?"

"More than sure." He looks at you for a moment before nodding his head.

"Is it okay if I leave my car there?" You chuckle and nod, unlocking the door and stepping inside your humble abode.

"Yes. You'll be fine there." Yunho slowly follows, kicking his shoes off to the side before locking your door and settling onto the couch. Even though he's been here, a part of him still feels like he's intruding in your space. But, the other part is happy to be here because lord knows he didn't wanna go home and be alone tonight. "You can help yourself to whatever you need in the kitchen. I'm just gonna change and get situated."

"Course." Yunho watches as you head into the bathroom, flipping through the Netflix options on your TV. A call comes through on his phone, Seora's name popping up on the screen. While you wash up and get yourself ready for the evening, you overhear Yunho talking to Seora on the phone and you smile to yourself. You love hearing the way they talk to each other, even if it's for a brief 5 minutes just for Seora to tell her dad she's off to bed. She sweetly tells him that she loves him 'more than anything in the world' and Yunho returns the statement before he hangs up. You finish in the next 10 minutes, coming out of the bathroom in your shorts and longsleeve, a huge smile on your face. "What?" Yunho chuckles, confused.

"You and Seora are just the sweetest."

"Oh, you heard?" He laughs a bit. "Yeah, she's off to bed. Which I highly doubt, but glad she called me before she could forget." You giggle and plop next to him on the couch, shifting your attention to the TV screen.

"Find anything you wanna watch?"

"No, I'll leave it up to you."

"You sure?"

"Mhm. I'm just here to be with you, Y/N." You smile at him, positioning yourself to partially rest on his body while he throws an arm over you.

The rest of the evening goes by just as you'd imagine— you and Yunho settling for a movie you both hadn't watched but heard lots about, barely able to get through most of it without falling into a debate about the plot from time to time. Everything feels so lighthearted, the way you both bicker and tease each other; sharing cute, intimate moments you'll forever cherish.

And one touch leads to another, a kiss leads to another.

Tension so palpable it's hard to ignore.

In the next moment, you find yourself on his lap; tongues dancing around in a fight for dominance as you subtly work your hips against his. Yunho hisses at the feeling, letting out a breath when you tug back on his bottom lip— peppering his jaw and his neck with light, feathery kisses.

"Y/N, baby." He breathes out, craning his neck so you have more access to him. You leave hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat, his grip on your hips tightening. "Fuck." He breathes out. "Want you so badly."

"You can have me." You whisper near his ear before nibbling on his earlobe. He lets out a soft moan, his warm, large hand coming up your long sleeve to feel your bare skin.

"I don't wanna mess this up." He says lowly against your lips, grazing the surface.

"You won't mess anything up."

"You sure?" You nod. He takes one more look at you, trying to find any doubt hiding behind those beautiful, deep orbs. But, he doesn't see any. He doesn't see anything besides the same sincerity. The same comfort.

The same love.

So, Yunho doesn't waste any time. He doesn't want to waste any more time when life is too short. He’s learned the hard way firsthand. He needs to make you his right here, right now. He needs to show you just how much he feels for you, how much he adores you.

How much his days don't mean shit without you now.

Yunho carries you in one, swift motion, lifting you with ease and tugging you close to his body while your legs wrap around his torso. The TV is a long, forgotten thought, a random preview playing for the next movie coming up on the autoplay feature. He gently lays you down on your bed, shedding off his shirt while you do the same with yours.

Shorts and jeans to follow.

Boxer briefs and panties off to another side of the bed.

Yunho's mouth drags across your skin, leaving kisses on every inch that he could possibly reach; hands roaming across every inch that he could possibly touch. He slots himself in between your thighs, lips pressing against your inner thighs before he's right where you need him to be. You let out a gasp, back slightly arching off of the mattress when he slowly laps away at your folds— sucking gently at your heat while your hands tug on his hair. He takes his time with you so as long as you can feel his adoration through his motions; tongue dragging deep in between your slit, continuing until you can't help but move against his mouth to lead you right to the edge. You moan loudly as your body jolts and allows your orgasm to wash over, Yunho placing soft kisses against you before he moves back up and hovers over you.

He coos and praises you, telling you just exactly how good you were for him in your ear while he adjusts his position. He nudges his tip at your clit, slowly sliding it up and down your folds before pressing in and inching himself deeper and deeper to the hilt.

"Oh shit." He groans. "Feels too good." He lets out a shaky breath, trying his best to keep his composure. It's been so long for him that he finds himself struggling with his self-control, but he continues; only knowing how to relish in this moment, in you, as best as he knows. He keeps you close— forehead pressed against yours while he moves in and out of you at a steady pace. His fingers dig deep into the bare flesh of your hip, sure it'll leave some marks with the way he starts to pound into you.

Wanting, needing, yearning for you to reach your release. To see you reach your high, to see you on cloud nine.

"Want you—" He kisses your neck as he continues to plunge deeper, hitting that very spot that will send you spiraling in the next few minutes. "To be mine, baby." He groans against your skin. "Need you to be mine." Yunho goes faster, thoroughly loving the pretty sounds you make against him. Him too, close to reaching that high, taking his seat on cloud nine.

"Yours, Yunho." You whisper in his ear, just as he takes you further and further into bliss— doing a deep dive into the abyss of desire. "Just yours."

And in this moment, that’s all Yunho knows.

Just yours.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf @jaytheatiny @lucid-galaxys-world @chaotic-floral @sofkloster @honeyrecommends @hwashua-luv @luvv4bby @spicxbnny @pandyandy71 @sanniesaurus @angel-hyuckie @wolviejex @purpleyou7x @honeyhotteoks

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antinousletmehit · 6 months ago

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 11 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇Telemachus x fem!reader

୨୧┇note: Mama Eurymachus behind YOU 💜

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Telemachus ran his hands through his hair. Y/N’s lips on his. Her breath mixed with his own. His body pressed up against hers.

Oh gods…

It was all the prince could think about. He went over to the window, staring out at Ithaca. The sky accumulating into a mix of orange and red and the sun set over the roaring sea. Telemachus wishes a little sightseeing would fix his anxiety. He was about to continue his pacing when he heard a voice ring out from behind him.

“Telemachus.” It wasn’t so much a question but a statement. Telemachus turned around to see Athena standing in the middle of the room, her same tall stance visible.

“Athena.” He sighed in relief. The boy had believed that the goddess was done with him forever after their disagreement.

Athena’s face furrowed as she glanced at him, “You’ve done something little wolf.” Telemachus could feel his cheeks go crimson as his mind raked with an answer to reply with.

“I-I haven’t done anything..” He stammered, his fingers fidgeting with the bottom of his tunic.

The goddess felt like rolling her eyes at his attempt of disguising his guilty tone, “You’re lying.”

The prince let out a frustrated sigh, “Yes..I admit. I’m lying.”

“Now the only question is what are you keeping from me?” The goddess crossed her arms, and looked down at the boy. Telemachus debated what Athena would do with him when he came out with the truth. Possibly throw him out the window. Find a way to make his life miserable for the rest of his existence.

“I took your advice..I fought back.” Telemachus began his pacing once again as he talked.

The goddess seemed proud, “Is that so?”

He sighed, “Well..Y/n had been avoiding me and staying close to her brother ever since the other night. I was pissed off…so when she got up from the dining hall…I followed her.” Athena nodded as he talked, waiting for him to continue.

“...Then I cornered her…and pushed her against the wall.” Telemachus slowly stated.

“And?” Athena had an expecting tone.

“We..um..argued, “Telemachus suddenly said in a fast tone,

“andthenimayhavesortofkissedher.”

“I’m sorry?” Athena’s eyes widened.

“I’m not repeating that.” Telemachus muttered, almost ashamed.

“I told you to fight back, not with your lips.” Athena groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

“In my defense you got extremely unspecific when you said to push her against the wall.” Telemachus’s voice cracked as he tried to defend himself.

Athena scoffed, “I thought it was obvious that you should pull a dagger or hit her, but apparently not.”

The boy ran his hands through his hair, “What do I do.”

He sat down on his bed once again, putting his head in his hands, “I know you said you’re not any Aphrodite..but you have to help me.”

Athena once again had flashbacks of Odysseus, helplessly pining over Penelope, and begging for her help. And once again, she couldn’t refuse helping. Especially someone who was Odysses’s son.

“You may not blame me if my advice does not work. I also refuse to be your Eros.” The goddess pointed her finger at Telemachus.

“Really?” The prince’s eyes lit up, a new hopefulness igniting his spirit.

“I suppose..” She sighed, no hint of excitement in her voice, “Go with your instincts.”

He looked at her expectantly, “And?”

Athena shrugs, “That’s it.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Y/n slipped through the dimly lit corridors of the palace, her jaw clenched so tightly it ached. She hated herself for agreeing to Eurymachus’s demands, but she hated him even more for putting her in this position.

The servant quarters were quiet at this hour, the faint sound of snores drifting from behind closed doors. Y/N moved silently, her steps careful as she approached the small room where Eurymachus had said the necklace would be.

The servant, a young woman named Thalia, known for her kind smile and amazing cooking, was fast asleep, her breathing even and soft. Y/n hesitated at the door, her hand hovering over the curtain that separated the room from the hallway. What am I doing? she thought bitterly. This is beneath me. But Eurymachus’s smug face flashed in her mind, and she forced herself to push forward. Slipping into the room, she quickly spotted the necklace hanging on a nail by the bed. It was simple but elegant, its gold chain glinting faintly in the moonlight streaming through the small window.

Y/n moved swiftly, lifting the necklace from its hook and tucking it into the pouch at her waist. She turned to leave, but her foot caught on a loose board, causing it to creak loudly. Thalia stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Who’s there?” she murmured sleepily, sitting up in bed.

Y/n froze, her heart pounding in her chest.

But Thalia’s gaze sharpened as she caught sight of Y/n. “Lady Y/N? What are you—” Her eyes flicked to the empty hook where her necklace had been, and her expression turned to one of alarm. “Wait! That’s mine! What are you doing with it?” Y/n didn’t answer. She bolted from the room, ignoring Thalia’s shouts as she darted back down the hallway. Her chest heaved with each breath, her guilt clawing at her insides.

By the time she reached the agreed meeting place—a secluded alcove near the main hall—Eurymachus was already waiting, leaning casually against the wall with his ever “pleasant” smirk.

“You’re late,” he said, his tone mocking.

“Here,” she snapped, pulling the necklace from her pouch and tossing it at him. He caught it easily, inspecting it with an approving nod.

“Perfect,” he said, slipping the necklace into his own pocket. “Thalia’s been a little… resistant to my charms. This should give her the incentive she needs.”

Y/n’s stomach churned. “You’re disgusting.”

Eurymachus shrugged. “Call it what you want. It’s effective. At least I’ll get some good pu—“

Pandora turned on her heel, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She didn’t look back as she stormed away, but Eurymachus’s smug laughter followed her down the corridor, a reminder of how low she had been forced to stoop.

——

Y/N sat in the shadow of a column, watching the main hall with narrowed eyes. Eurymachus had been annoyingly vague about this errand, but she knew what she was looking for, a suitor sneaking away with food under the cover of night. She hated herself for even considering helping Eurymachus, but if it kept him quiet, she had no choice.

The palace was quiet now, save for the faint sounds of distant laughter from the drunken suitors who hadn’t yet stumbled off to bed. Y/n eyes darted toward the dining table, still laden with leftover food from the evening feast. A plate of roasted meat sat untouched, along with a basket of bread and a jar of honey.

She crouched lower as footsteps echoed down the hall. A figure emerged from the shadows: Amphinomus, one of the less obnoxious suitors usually. He paused near the table, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Y/n’s breath hitched as she saw him quickly gather a loaf of bread and a slab of meat, wrapping them in a cloth before tucking them under his arm.

Gotcha, she thought, rising silently and following him at a safe distance.

Amphinomus moved with surprising speed for someone who’d spent the evening drinking. He slipped through a side door that led to the servants’ quarters, his steps quiet and deliberate. Pandora stayed close, keeping to the shadows as she trailed him. He finally stopped near the kitchens, where two servants were waiting, a young man and woman with thin, worried faces. Amphinomus handed them the bundle of food, his voice low but urgent.

“Take this,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Make it last, all right? If anyone asks, you didn’t see me.” The servants murmured their thanks, their gratitude evident in their expressions. Y/n’s chest tightened as she watched. She hadn’t expected this.

As Amphinomus turned to leave, she stepped out of the shadows. “Well, well,” she said, crossing her arms. “Isn’t this interesting?” Amphinomus froze, his face pale as he turned to face her. “Y/N,” he said cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, tilting her head. “Stealing food for the servants? That’s not very suitor like of you.” His jaw tightened. “They need it more than we do.”

“Maybe,” Y/n said, her tone cool. “But if the others find out, it won’t end well for you.”

“Are you going to tell them?” Amphinomus asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

She hesitated. For a moment, she considered lying, covering for him, but Eurymachus’s threat loomed in her mind. She had no choice. “Not me,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “But you’d better hope no one else does.”

Amphinomus studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before brushing past her and disappearing into the shadows. Y/N stood there for a long time, guilt gnawing at her as she thought about what she had just witnessed. When she finally returned to Eurymachus to report what she’d seen, she kept her tone curt and her answers short. Eurymachus, of course, was delighted.

“Well, well,” he said with a sly grin. “Amphinomus, huh? Who would’ve guessed? Well, actually everyone could’ve guessed. I’m not really shocked, he has this weird thing with greeting the world with open arms or whatever that bullshit means. But anyways, I’ll have fun with that little sliver of information.”

Y/n didn’t respond. She turned and walked away, her stomach churning as she realized just how far she’d fallen, and how much worse things might get.

——

Y/N groaned as she leaned against the stone wall of the courtyard, the weight of Eurymachus’s errand making her stomach churn. She’d avoided Telemachus for days after the kiss, unsure of what to say or even how to act. Now she had to approach him with a favor? For Eurymachus of all people? It was humiliating.

But she didn’t have a choice. Eurymachus’s smug grin and veiled threats lingered in her mind, and she knew he’d make good on them if she didn’t comply. Taking a deep breath, Y/N pushed herself off the wall and made her way toward the palace library, where she knew Telemachus would be. He’d taken to hiding there lately, away from the chaos of the suitors.

When she entered the library, she spotted him immediately. He was seated at a table near the window, a scroll spread out before him. The light from the window cast a soft glow on his face, and for a moment, she hesitated. Why does he have to look so…earnest? she thought irritably.

Clearing her throat, she approached the table. “Telemachus,” she said, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest. He looked up, his eyes widening slightly before narrowing in suspicion. “Y/N,” he said flatly, setting down the quill in his hand. “What do you want?”

She winced inwardly at his tone but pressed on. “I need a favor,” she said, leaning against the table with feigned nonchalance. Telemachus raised an eyebrow. “From me? That’s bold, considering…” His voice trailed off, and his cheeks flushed as he avoided her gaze. She felt her own cheeks heat, but she refused to acknowledge it. “Look, it’s not for me,” she said quickly. “It’s for Eurymachus.”

Telemachus blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Eurymachus?” he repeated, incredulous. “Why on earth would I do anything for him?” She shifted uncomfortably. “He… he wants you to put in a good word for him with your mother,” she said, each word feeling like it physically hurt to say.

Telemachus stared at her as if she’d just sprouted a second head. “You’re joking,” he said finally.

“I wish I were,” Y/n muttered.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he regarded her with disbelief. “Why would I ever help Eurymachus? He’s insufferable.”

“Believe me, I know,” Y/N said, her tone exasperated. “But he’s been… persistent. And I’d really appreciate it if you just—”

“No,” Telemachus interrupted, his voice firm. “Absolutely not.” Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Telemachus, please. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

He gave her a long, searching look, his expression softening slightly. “Why are you even doing this? What does he have on you?” Her heart skipped a beat at the question, but she quickly masked her panic with a scowl. “That’s none of your business,” she snapped.

Telemachus frowned but didn’t press further. “I don’t like this, Y/n,” he said quietly. “You shouldn’t have to do Eurymachus’s dirty work. If he’s forcing you—”

“He’s not forcing me,” she said quickly, cutting him off. “I can handle myself.” Telemachus’s eyes narrowed, but he sighed and shook his head. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But only because you’re asking.”

Y/n blinked, surprised by his sudden acquiescence. “You will?”

“I said I’ll think about it,” he clarified, standing and gathering his scrolls. “Don’t expect a miracle.” Y/n watched him leave, her emotions a confusing mix of relief, gratitude, and something else she didn’t want to name.

As the door closed behind him, she let out a long breath, slumping into the chair he’d vacated. This wasn’t how she’d envisioned her day going, but at least she’d made some progress.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her tangled web of alliances and obligations was only growing more complicated, and that Eurymachus wouldn’t stop until he’d completely squeezed her.

——

Y/N found Antinous lounging in the great hall, reclining on a cushioned bench with a goblet of wine in his hand. He looked perfectly at ease, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But she knew her brother well enough to sense the sharpness lurking beneath his casual demeanor. This errand was going to be trickier than the others, and it was very last second. “Heyyy Y/n!! Can you go and convince your brother to lend me money? Please! Last minute request?” Eurymachus’s irritating voice rang in her head.

She approached cautiously, clearing her throat to get his attention. “Brother,” she began, forcing a light tone. Antinous glanced up, his lips curling into a smirk. “N/N. To what do I owe this rare display of sisterly affection?” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, sitting down beside him. “I…I need a favor.”

Antinous raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “A favor? From me? This must be serious.”

“It’s not for me,” she said quickly, twisting her fingers together. “It’s for Eurymachus.”

At the mention of Eurymachus, Antinous’s smirk disappeared. He straightened, setting his goblet aside and narrowing his eyes at her. “Eurymachus?” he repeated slowly. “Why in Hades would you be doing him any favors?” Y/n hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “He—he just needs to borrow some money. One last time. That’s all.”

Antinous stared at her, his expression darkening with suspicion. “Borrow money?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “And why would he come to you to ask me for that?”

“He said you’d be more likely to agree if it came from me,” she lied, trying to sound convincing. Antinous leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “Since when are you and Eurymachus so chummy? Last I checked, you couldn’t stand the man.” Y/n’s heart began to race. “We’re not… chummy,” she said, her voice faltering slightly. “I’m just…helping out. That’s all.”

Antinous’s eyes narrowed further, and he let out a low, humorless laugh. “Helping out? You’ve got to be shitting me.” he echoed. “Do you think I’m an idiot, ‘N/N? What’s really going on between you two?”

“Nothing!” She said quickly, her face flushing. Antinous stood abruptly, towering over her with a look of barely restrained fury. “Don’t lie to me,” he growled. “If Eurymachus is trying to worm his way into your good graces, or worse into your bed—”

“Antinous!” She snapped, standing as well and glaring up at him. “It’s not like that!” But her denial only seemed to fuel his anger. He began pacing, running a hand through his hair as he muttered under his breath. “That little snake,” he snarled. “I’ll kill him if he thinks he can take advantage of you—”

“He’s not taking advantage of me!” She interrupted, stepping in front of him to block his path. “It’s just money, Antinous. That’s it.” Antinous stopped pacing, glaring down at her with clenched fists. “If that’s true,” he said slowly, “then why do you look so guilty?”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. She couldn’t tell him the truth, not about Eurymachus’s threats, and certainly not about the kiss with Telemachus.

Antinous shook his head, his jaw tightening. “I don’t like this, Y/n,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re hiding something. And if I find out that Eurymachus has crossed a line, I swear to the gods—”

“He hasn’t,” she said firmly, cutting him off. “Please, Antinous. Just do this one thing for me.”For a moment, Antinous simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and turned away, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll grab eurymachus and throw him so far he’ll be in Mount Olympus.” Y/N nodded, relief washing over her despite the knot of guilt tightening in her chest. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Antinous didn’t respond, his back still turned to her. As she left the hall, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just set something in motion, something she might not be able to control.

started a tag list!

@procrastination20

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

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thefemmefatalexo · 7 months ago

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Toji SMAU - When love was always there

Masterlist!

Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.

Taglist: OPEN !

taglist: @jinxiewritings @actuallyvalerie @clp-84 @reneinii @magalimachete @mysteriaqueen @linny-bloggs @loveislost @amybarnes21 @1ennj4 @shycreatorreview

<<their social media

Introduction

Chapter 1 - The Chase

Chapter 2 - Bait and Burn

Chapter 3 - A Deal with the Devil

Chapter 4 - What he won’t say

Chapter 5 - Lines in the Sand

Chapter 6 - Muhammad Ali

Chapter 7 - Hit First, Ask Late

Chapter 8 - Threads of Anger

Chapter 9 - Behind closed doors

Chapter 10 - The Weight of Silence

Chapter 11 - Dinner and Disdain

Chapter 12 - Ghosted and Guilty

Chapter 13 - What comes after

Chapter 14 - Mufasa and Mixed Signals

Chapter 15 - Late Night Cinematics

Chapter 16 - Ex’s and Oh’s

Chapter 17 - Sideline Tension

Chapter 18 - Dressed to Kill (Literally)

Chapter 19 - Heat of the Moment

Chapter 20 - Radio Silence

Chapter 21 - Say Something

Chapter 22 - Your Place or Mine?

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jungkoode · 4 months ago

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OFF-LABELS | 11

→ PAIRING : Med Student!Hoseok x F!Reader (Brother’s Best Friend AU)

→ RATING: Explicit, 18+.

→ DATE POSTED: March 24th, 2025.

→ SUMMARY: You’ve spent four years convincing yourself that your brother’s best friend is just being nice when he remembers your coffee order, quizzes you on neuroanatomy, or lets his touch linger a second too long. Because there’s no way that the golden boy of Seoul National’s medical program might actually be flirting with you. Especially when he keeps saying things that could be perfectly innocent… if only he didn’t say them in that voice.

→ TAGS: second person perspective, female reader, medical school au, brother’s best friend trope, age gap (4 years), pining, touch starved, overthinking reader, confident hoseok, gentle dom hoseok, medical terminology as flirting (lmao), study sessions, domestic moments, innocent (but not really), plausible deniability king hoseok, anxiety, internal monologue, guilty crushes, subtle teasing, emotional edging, gentle manipulation, praise kink undertones, intellectual attraction, competency kink, hand fixation, voice kink, medical intern hoseok, first year med student reader, home setting, casual intimacy, unresolved sexual tension (for now), secret attraction, nervous rambling, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts, anatomy lessons with ulterior motives, competent hoseok, flustered reader, close proximity, accidental touches that aren’t accidents, virgin!reader.

→ CONTENT in this chapter: Quiet moments of realization, aftercare that proves something deeper, gentle revelations between sheets, understanding what being taken care of really means, and the kind of comfort that only comes from complete trust. | motional intimacy, aftercare dynamics, caretaking, trust building, domestic moments, shared vulnerability, relationship development, emotional resolution, comfort scenes, deep connection, vaginal penetration, protected sex, praise kink, ‘good girl’ mentions, sweet talk, wearing his shirt, slight restrains (wrists), size kink (big dick).

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQ | WORDCOUNT: 6,4k

→ MINI SERIES: PREVIOUS

→ A/N: And that's how it ends, folks! Started this thinking it would be a quick one-shot about a med student crush and somehow ended up writing an entire saga about trust, care, and finding someone who knows exactly what you need (even when you're too stubborn to admit it). Thanks for coming along for the ride—especially to everyone who's been here since that first couch scene. Special shoutout to my writing playlist that's now basically just "songs that remind me of these two idiots figuring out they're perfect for each other." I really debated on how to end this, because I like it as it is now, but also felt like it’s not fully resolved. But at the same time, I feel sometimes actions speak louder than words and nothing can convey intimacy deeper than what these two just shared. Also gives me an excuse to write volume 2 if I ever feel like it. For now I’m closing this series like this, and feeling quite proud overall, because I have finally managed to finish a writing project. Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it. See you in the next story! ♥

PLAYLIST

You don’t realize you’re still crying until Hoseok gathers you into his arms.

Your body melts against him immediately—shaking, overwhelmed, wrecked beyond belief—but his arms wrap around you tight, pressing you against him, shielding you from the world, keeping you close.

You’re barely aware of movement, barely aware of anything but the warm press of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft rasp of his breath against your temple.

One arm hooks beneath your thighs, the other around your back, lifting you effortlessly.

You cling to him instinctively.

Arms curling around his neck.

Legs locking around his waist.

A desperate, unconscious attempt to keep him closer.

Hoseok hums against your skin, smoothing one palm up your spine, fingers tracing slow, steady circles between your shoulder blades.

"Shh, baby," he murmurs, lips pressing into your hairline. "I’ve got you."

Your throat shudders.

Your body is still trembling, pleasure still fluttering through your core, nerves still firing in the aftermath of everything he’s done to you.

And yet—

His hands keep soothing.

Warm, steady palms dragging down your back, up your ribs, over your arms, everywhere, mapping every inch of you with a softness that makes you ache.

"You did so well," he whispers, tilting his head to press a lingering kiss to your shoulder. "So well for me, Chip."

Your fingers fist into his shirt.

He hums, shifting you higher, cradling you closer, keeping you pressed against his chest as he moves.

The air changes.

Cool sheets brush against your bare skin.

And then—

Softness.

Your back meets the mattress, sinking into plush comfort as Hoseok lowers you, setting you down like you’re something fragile.

Like you’ll break if he lets go too fast.

Your breath shakes.

But his hands never leave you.

They stay—palming your waist, smoothing over your thighs, grounding you, soothing you as your body trembles in the aftermath.

Then—

A kiss.

Featherlight.

Pressed gently against your damp cheek.

You whimper.

Another kiss, placed just beneath your eye, tasting the remnants of your tears.

Then another.

And another.

Hoseok follows the path of your sobs—kissing them away, lips brushing over wet lashes, soft and slow, until every single tear is gone.

"You’re so beautiful when you cry for me," he murmurs.

Your chest tightens.

His lips move lower—pressing warm against the bridge of your nose, the tip of it, letting his breath fan over your face.

Another kiss.

Your forehead this time.

Slow. Lingering.

Like reverence.

Your fingers shake where they rest on his chest.

His voice dips to a whisper. "Such a sweet thing."

His lips brush yours.

Not taking. Not demanding.

Just there.

Waiting.

Soft. Warm.

Patient.

And then—

A kiss.

Gentle. Barely there.

Just the softest press of his lips to yours.

A breath, shared between you.

Your whole body shudders.

Hoseok smiles.

His fingers trace down your cheek, down your jaw, dragging slowly down the column of your throat.

"Rest a little, baby." A kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Then I’ll give you exactly what you’ve been begging for."

Your fingers fist into his shirt.

Weak. Trembling. Needy.

Hoseok stills above you, breath warm against your lips, his body heat pressing into yours.

Your throat burns.

Not from pain.

Not from exhaustion.

From want.

From him.

"Baby—" His voice is soft, careful, but you shake your head frantically.

"No." Your fingers tighten, pulling harder, tugging him closer. "Want now."

A slow inhale.

His head tilts, lips curling in quiet amusement.

"Do you?"

Your breath shudders.

"Yes," you sob, tilting your chin up, mouth chasing his. "Want you now, Hobi—"

A pause.

Then—

"Water first."

Your stomach plummets.

A whimper claws its way up your throat. "No—"

"Yes." His voice is firm, patient. "Water first, Chip."

Your lip trembles.

His thumb strokes along your cheek, soothing, warm. "I won’t fuck you if you pass out on me, baby."

Your stomach flips.

His voice is so gentle, so calm—like he isn’t fully clothed and hard as steel against your thigh, like he hasn’t spent the last hour dragging you through the most unbearable pleasure of your life.

But his eyes—

Oh, his eyes.

They gleam dark above you, swallowing you whole, already measuring, already planning.

You swallow thickly.

"Water," he murmurs, kissing your forehead. "Then I’ll give you what you need."

And fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You believe him.

You nod frantically.

Too eager.

Too obvious.

But you don’t care.

Because you want. Because your thighs are still trembling, your pulse still racing, your entire body still humming in the aftermath of—

Oh God.

That happened.

That really happened.

Your breath hiccups in your chest, a little wrecked, a little overwhelmed, but—

But you giggle.

You giggle, delirious and exhausted and gleeful, because—

You pulled this from him.

Hoseok.

Jung Hoseok.

Hoseok who wears neatly pressed scrubs and glasses and smiles politely when he enters a patient’s room. Hoseok whose hands are steady, whose voice is calm, whose expression is always gentle when he’s listening to someone’s symptoms.

Hoseok.

Who just spent the last hour tearing you apart.

You shudder.

The mattress shifts beneath you as he pulls away, and you whimper at the loss—weak, pathetic, needy—but he just presses one last, lingering kiss to your temple.

"Be good," he murmurs. "I’ll be right back."

Then he’s gone.

You blink.

Oh.

The warmth of him disappears, the sheets rustling as he rises from the bed. You barely catch a glimpse of his back—broad, steady, his white dress shirt still wrinkled from your hands on him—before he disappears down the hallway.

A glass of water.

Because he’s him. Because he still has to do things properly. Because he just spent an hour ruining you but God forbid he let you dehydrate.

A breathless little giggle bubbles up in your throat.

Your hands twitch against the sheets.

You stare at the ceiling, still hiccuping a little, still throbbing between your legs, and—

Oh, God.

Oh, fuck.

This happened.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your palms into the mattress, a quiet little thrill running up your spine.

You’re still here. Still in his bed.

Your fingertips draw tiny circles against the sheets.

A habit. A little nervous tic.

Your brain is spiraling, fast and sharp, flipping through everything at once—

(You came fifteen times. Fifteen.)

(You sobbed into his mouth, and he just laughed.)

(He made you squirt. You didn’t even know you could squirt, but of course—of course—Hoseok knew.)

A breathless little whimper slips from your throat.

And fuck, it should be embarrassing, it should be humiliating, but instead—

Instead—

Your fingers tighten in the sheets.

Because you like it.

Because it’s him.

Because he’s still Jung Hoseok, the perfectly put-together, golden-boy intern at SNUH, but he’s also—

He’s also this.

Not just gentle. Not just kind. Not just the careful, competent doctor your brother trusts, the one whose name gets murmured fondly in hospital hallways—

But this.

The man who dragged you through fifteen orgasms just because you lied to him.

The man who made you earn every single one.

The man who called you sweet while he broke you open.

Your thighs clench.

The distant sound of the faucet runs in the kitchen, steady and calm, like this is all normal, like this is just another part of his routine.

Like he didn’t just turn your body into his own personal science experiment.

You hiccup again.

Still lightheaded. Still soaked between your thighs.

But you giggle, dizzy and gleeful, tiny fingers still tracing circles into his sheets.

The bed dips beneath his weight.

Warm fingers press into your scalp, soft and soothing, stroking over your sweat-damp skin. A gentle pat, the kind meant for comfort, meant to steady you.

You shudder.

"Good girl," he murmurs.

The praise lands hot in your belly.

Your lashes are still wet, damp with the remnants of your overwhelmed sobs, but your fingers cling to the sheets as he presses the cool rim of a glass against your lips.

"Slow sips," he instructs.

You obey.

Your throat works, taking in the blessed relief of water, the cool liquid easing some of the rawness there. You swallow once, twice, lips parting around the rim, letting him tilt the glass just enough to let you drink properly.

His thumb brushes over your cheek.

"That’s it," he murmurs, voice soft, pleased.

Your fingers twitch.

When you’ve had enough, he pulls it away, placing it carefully on the nightstand, moving like he has all the time in the world, like he hasn’t left you bare and aching for him.

And then—

A rustle of fabric.

A shift of movement beside you.

Something warm and soft drapes over your shoulders, settling over your bare skin like a second layer. The scent of linen and faint cologne engulfs you, fresh but familiar, threaded through with the faintest trace of sweat.

You blink down at yourself, slow, disoriented.

It’s his shirt.

His white dress shirt, still warm from his body, sleeves too long, hem pooling at your thighs.

Your breath catches.

You hadn’t even noticed him unbuttoning it. Hadn’t registered the way his fingers had moved so easily, slipping it from his shoulders, rolling it off like it was nothing—like it wasn’t everything.

Your fingers lift, tentative, touching the fabric.

Hoseok just watches. Amused.

His head tilts, gaze dragging over you—soft now, lazy, pleased.

“Much better,” he muses.

His knuckles brush under your chin, tilting your face up. When he sees the look in your eyes—wide, hazy, still wrecked—his lips twitch.

A smirk.

And then, fingers slipping beneath the hem, brushing against your bare thighs—

“Now…” he murmurs, his palm flattening over your stomach, pressing just lightly.

“You’re covered, just like you wanted.”

The bed shifts as he moves, settling his weight beside you, one knee nudging between your thighs, parting them effortlessly.

“But since you seem to love my shirt so much…” His voice dips, smooth and teasing, hands already working the hem higher.

“I think I’ll fuck you in it.”

Your stomach flips.

You whimper, legs squeezing together, but—

Hoseok moves.

Not toward you.

Not immediately.

Instead, he shifts toward the nightstand.

Slow. Torturously slow.

Your breath catches.

He knows what he’s doing.

Of course he knows.

His movements are deliberate—each action drawn out, stretching the moment, letting you feel the weight of every second, every inch of distance between you.

Your fingers clench uselessly at the sheets.

He opens the drawer.

A pause.

His fingers rummage through—calm, methodical, as if he isn’t about to fuck you senseless, as if this isn’t the thing you’ve been begging for—

You whimper.

Hoseok smirks.

He takes his time, sifting through things that do not matter—his watch, a stray pen, his glasses case, something that isn’t a condom, because he’s cruel, because he likes this, because he likes making you squirm.

You do squirm, thighs pressing together, breath uneven, and—

Finally.

Finally, he pulls out a box.

The cardboard rustles between his fingers.

Your whole body locks.

The box is pristine, sharp edges, clearly unopened.

And yet—

The way he holds it.

The way he examines it, tilting it slightly in his grip, lips pursing slightly as if he’s considering something—

You hate him.

You whimper, shifting restlessly against the sheets, and—

Oh.

Oh, he loves this.

You can see it.

The way his mouth quirks at the corner. The way his tongue presses briefly against the inside of his cheek. The way his fingers drum lightly against the box before—

He flicks it open.

Your breath stops.

His fingers slip inside, slow, searching, before finally, finally—

He pulls one free.

Holds it between his index and middle finger.

And smirks.

The foil packet gleams in the dim light.

Your stomach flips.

Your fingers twitch.

But then—

Hoseok fixes his hair.

A casual, nonchalant movement.

Like this isn’t anything to him.

Like he’s not about to be balls-deep inside you for the first time.

Like this is just another part of his routine.

Your whole body shakes.

He notices.

Of course he notices.

The smirk lingers as he moves back to the bed, glass left forgotten on the nightstand.

And then—

He sits.

The bed dips.

Your whole body tenses.

Hoseok tilts his head.

"Wanna put it on me?"

His voice is smooth, just barely teasing, but underneath—underneath, there’s something else.

Something dark.

Something patient.

Something waiting.

Your breath hiccups.

You nod, fast, eager, wetness still clinging to your lashes.

Hoseok’s smirk deepens.

"Then go on, Chip."

He leans back on his hands, stretching out, voice dropping to a murmur—

"Earn it."

Your fingers fumble at his zipper, eager, shaky, desperate to get to him, to feel him, to finally have him the way you’ve been begging for.

Hoseok chuckles.

The sound is warm, soft, fond—which only makes your stomach twist harder, makes your fingers tremble worse.

"Easy, baby," he murmurs, his hand covering yours, stopping you before you can tug him free. "Need to take them off properly first."

Your face burns.

You whimper, shifting impatiently against the sheets, but he just smirks, brushing a lazy kiss over your forehead before standing up.

The loss of his warmth makes you ache.

You barely have time to mourn it before—

He starts undressing.

Your breath catches.

Hoseok moves unhurriedly, stretching out his elbows before reaching for his pants.

The button pops open.

The zipper glides down.

Your mouth dries.

You stare up at him, wide-eyed, chest heaving, pulse pounding, throbbing between your thighs as he shoves the slacks past his hips, letting them pool at his feet.

Then his briefs.

He hooks his thumbs under the waistband, pushing them down, and—

Fuck.

Your lips part.

Hoseok is…

Big.

You knew that.

You knew.

You remember the struggle of fitting him in your mouth, the way he barely fit past your lips, the way you had to work to take him.

But seeing him like this?

All of him?

Eight thick, aching inches, flushed and leaking, the veins pulsing up his length, the sheer size of him standing rigid against his stomach—

Your throat closes.

Hoseok notices.

Of course he notices.

The corner of his mouth quirks, amusement curling through his gaze as he reaches down—

And caresses your lower lip with his thumb.

Your breath shudders.

Your tongue peeks out instinctively, barely brushing his fingertip, and his smirk deepens.

"So eager," he murmurs, thumb pressing down just slightly, making you feel the weight of it. "Didn’t even wait for me to sit back down."

Your face burns.

Hoseok just chuckles.

The warmth of his touch disappears as he moves, settling himself back onto the bed, stretching out—legs wide, arms resting loosely at his sides, body completely bare for you now.

Then—

He raises the condom between his fingers.

A silent invitation.

Your stomach flips.

You reach for it, still breathless, still shaking slightly, but when you try to tear it open—

Clumsy.

Fumbling.

Your fingers don’t quite grip the foil properly, slipping against the edge, failing to find the right angle, struggling with something that should be so simple—

Hoseok doesn’t say anything.

Doesn’t tease.

Doesn’t smirk.

Just… watches.

Quiet. Patient.

His gaze is soft, steady, waiting.

You feel it.

Feel the weight of his attention, feel the way he’s watching you, not mocking, not correcting—just looking at you.

And for some reason—

That’s worse.

Your fingers tremble harder.

You glance up, cheeks burning, lips parting before you can stop yourself—

"Stop looking at me."

Hoseok grins.

Slow. Amused.

Like he expected that.

Like he knew you’d say it.

But he doesn’t stop looking.

Just tilts his head.

"Can’t."

Your fingers pause, the condom still clutched in your grip, and you glance up at him—confused, breathless, waiting.

He’s still watching you.

Still looking.

Still letting you feel the weight of his gaze, unshaken, unbothered—completely at ease while you sit there, bare and flustered and desperate for him.

Your pulse skitters.

Then—

He smirks.

"You’re doing it again."

Your brows knit. "What—"

"Your cheeks."

Your breath catches.

He leans in, voice dropping lower, softer, teasing.

"Like a chipmunk."

Your entire body locks up.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Your chest tightens.

Because—

Because that’s—

The first time.

The first time he called you that. The first time he marked you, the first time he turned something innocent into something that belonged to him.

The first time you became Chip.

Your heart races.

Something deep inside you thrums, something unbearably warm, unbearably good, something that snaps—

You kiss him.

Your hands shoot up instinctively, grasping at his jaw, your lips pressing to his without thinking, without waiting, without hesitation.

Hoseok freezes.

Just for a second.

Just for a breath.

Just long enough for you to panic, for your stomach to twist, for you to think—oh, fuck, I shouldn’t have done that—

Then he responds.

His lips move.

He kisses you back.

Slow. Steady. Measured.

But warm.

So warm.

So good.

Your whole body melts, pressing closer, needing more, fingers still tangled in his neck as you sigh against his mouth.

Hoseok chuckles.

Soft. Fond.

"Sweet thing," he murmurs against your lips.

You whimper, pressing deeper, and he lets you—lets you take what you need, lets you cling to him, lets you pour yourself into the kiss until your lungs burn, until you’re gasping, until you remember—

The condom.

Your breath shudders.

You pull back, fingers clumsy as you tear the foil open, still shaky, still breathless from the kiss, and—

Hoseok just watches.

Smirking. Amused.

But he doesn’t say anything.

He just lets you try.

You slide it over him carefully, hands unsteady, still wide-eyed at the sheer size of him, still feeling the way your pulse thuds at the sight.

He’s…

He’s huge.

You knew that. You remember that.

But now—

Now you’re about to—

Your breath hiccups.

You shift onto your knees, thighs spreading as you move to straddle him, hovering just above him, body trembling, still dizzy, still soaked from everything he’s done to you—

And he still lets you try.

But then—

The moment your fingers press against his chest, the moment you try to steady yourself, the moment your thighs trembleas you hover—

His hands clamp down on your waist.

"Woah, Chip—"

A sharp exhale, his fingers firm, steadying you in place, holding you still before you can sink down too fast, before you can hurt yourself.

"Steady."

Your heart races.

His grip tightens slightly, thumbs smoothing over your ribs, keeping you held, keeping you anchored as he looks up at you.

His voice is lower now. Softer.

"Baby," he murmurs, something warm curling behind his words. "You have to take your time."

His hands slide up your sides, palms warm over bare skin, smoothing over the fabric of his dress shirt where it hangs loose around you. The sleeves slip lower as he adjusts his grip, dragging the soft cotton against your ribs, against your overheated skin.

Your thighs shake.

Hoseok smirks, eyes glinting.

"You think you can take me just like that?"

Your breath shudders.

Because—

Because no.

Not really.

Not all at once.

He’s too big. You know that.

But you’re—

You want it so bad.

You’re so ready.

You need it.

You shift slightly, pressing down just a little, feeling the head of him brush against your soaked entrance, and—

Hoseok groans.

His fingers dig into your hips, grip tightening, controlling the movement before you can force it, before you can rush it, before you can hurt yourself trying to take something that isn’t meant to be taken fast.

"Slow, baby," he murmurs, voice thicker, deeper.

You whimper.

Hoseok’s grip softens slightly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles against your skin.

"Let me help."

You nod frantically, fingers gripping at the open lapels of his shirt, still draped over your frame. The movement makes the fabric shift, slipping off one shoulder, baring more of your skin beneath his touch.

You feel desperate. Breathless.

And then—

Hoseok smiles.

Slow.

Dark.

Steady.

Then he guides you down.

Your breath shatters.

The first inch stings.

Not painful—not quite—but tight, an ache so deep and slow it makes your thighs tremble.

Hoseok feels it.

Of course he does.

His grip tightens, fingers firm at your waist, holding you still, keeping you from taking too much, keeping you from sinking down too fast.

"Easy, baby," he murmurs.

Your breath catches.

Because—

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

This—

This is so much.

He’s thick, stretching you in a way that makes your walls clamp down, muscles fluttering, your body trying to pull him in while also fighting to accommodate him.

You whimper.

Hoseok hums, pleased.

His hands soothe over your waist, warm palms stroking up your sides, dragging slow, steady circles over your skin.

"That’s it," he murmurs, voice gentle, but the words still send something dark curling through your stomach. "Just like that, Chip."

His thumbs stroke slow circles into your waist, fingertips grazing over the smooth cotton hanging open around you.

The fabric barely clings to your body now, slipping further apart with every movement.

Your walls pulse.

Hoseok notices.

His smirk deepens.

His fingers tighten slightly, just enough to hold you down, just enough to keep you where he wants you—halfway, stretched around the thickest part of him, not moving, just feeling.

And then—

His mouth is on you.

Your breath shudders.

Soft, open-mouthed kisses against your throat, your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder.

His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you whimper, shifting slightly—

His fingers dig in.

"Stay still."

Your whole body locks up.

Your walls clench around him at the command, and he groans, deep in his chest, head tilting back for just a second before he regains control.

Then his mouth finds you again.

Lower.

Lips brushing against the tops of your breasts, warm and wet, tongue flicking over sweat-damp skin.

"You feel so good, baby."

A kiss over your sternum.

"So tight around me."

Another over your clavicle.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, hips twitching, but he doesn’t let you move.

"Shh," he soothes, voice low, patient, mocking.

His tongue flicks over your nipple.

The loose fabric shifts with the motion, dragging over your ribs, brushing against your stomach—just another sensation layered over the unbearable stretch of him inside you.

Your whole body jerks.

"Hoseok—"

"Dr. Jung," he corrects, lips wrapping around the sensitive bud, sucking slow, leisurely, like he has all the time in the world—

And he does.

Because he’s keeping you still.

Because you can’t move.

Because he won’t let you move until he decides you can.

Your walls flutter, squeezing tight around the thick, unmoving length of him, and he moans, breath hot against your skin.

His hands soften at your waist, but only slightly.

Still firm.

Still controlling you.

His lips drag lower, tongue swiping over the curve of your breast, down the center of your ribs, kissing, licking, letting the wet heat of his mouth distract you from the pressure, from the way he’s still so deep inside you, still so thick, still holding you exactly where he wants you.

"Tell me how it feels," he murmurs, lips pressing just above your belly button.

His fingers trace absent shapes against your waist, brushing over where the shirt is still barely covering you, ghosting over the open hem.

He exhales, amused, eyes flicking up as he tugs at the fabric, letting it fall further apart.

Your breath stutters.

You’re so full.

So stretched.

It’s too much—but it’s not enough.

You need more.

Your thighs tremble. "Big."

Hoseok chuckles.

Low. Deep.

He likes that.

His tongue flicks against your skin, a soft hum vibrating through his chest as his hands knead over your waist.

"That’s right," he murmurs.

His thumbs tilt your hips, adjusting you slightly, just enough to make the pressure shift, make the stretch deeper, make you feel him more.

You whimper.

Hoseok groans.

Then—

"Take the rest, baby."

And his hands push you down.

Your breath shatters.

The last few inches burn, your walls stretching around him, struggling to take him, struggling to make room for the sheer size of him, and—

Oh, fuck.

Your head falls back.

Your entire body clenches, every muscle tight, your thighs trembling where they frame his waist, your breath coming fast, uneven, struggling to process just how deep he is.

Hoseok groans.

Low. Guttural.

A sound that comes from deep in his chest, vibrating against your ribs, making your walls clamp down around him in helpless, pulsing flutters.

"Fuck, Chip."

Your nails dig into his shoulders. "H-Hoseok—"

"Dr. Jung," he corrects again, but his voice wavers this time, mouth parting on a sharp inhale as his fingers tighten at your waist.

Because you’re squeezing him.

Because you’re so tight.

Because he can feel your walls still trying to adjust, still struggling to accommodate him, still fluttering, still soaked from everything he’s done to you—

And fuck.

Fuck, you knew he was big.

You knew.

But this—

This is too much.

Too deep, too thick, pressing against something inside you that makes your entire body tremble.

Your voice is wrecked. "I—I c-can’t—"

"Shh."

Hoseok’s fingers slide higher, smoothing up your spine, pressing into the knots of tension there, keeping you anchoredagainst him.

He leans up slightly, mouth ghosting over your shoulder, lips brushing soft against damp skin.

"Relax, baby." A warm kiss to the base of your throat. "Let me stretch you out."

Your pulse skitters.

His hands stay at your waist, holding you still, keeping you down, keeping you full.

And then—

His mouth moves.

Hot lips press against your clavicle.

Then lower.

Then—

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

His tongue swirls around your nipple.

Your breath hiccups.

A sharp little jolt of pleasure spikes through your stomach, the contrast overwhelming—the deep, aching stretch of him inside you paired with the gentle, teasing flicks of his tongue against your skin.

You writhe. "H-Hobi—"

His teeth scrape lightly, lips sucking, slow, measured.

"You’re doing so well," he murmurs against your skin, voice low, warm. "So tight around me."

A sharp exhale against your breast, warm and teasing.

"Like you were made to take me, baby."

Your walls pulse.

Hoseok groans, dragging his lips back up your throat, sucking lightly at your pulse.

"Just a little more."

Your stomach flutters.

His fingers press into your hips, keeping you down, keeping you still, making you feel every inch, every stretch, every impossible, aching depth of him—

And then—

You feel it.

The moment your body gives in.

Your walls accommodate him, adjust, mold around his thickness, taking him completely, letting him settle inside you—

And Hoseok feels it too.

A sharp inhale.

His fingers twitch against your waist.

Then—

A low, wrecked "fuck."

Your breath shudders.

You feel the weight of him, feel the stretch, feel the deep, unbearable fullness of being seated fully on his cock.

It’s—

It’s so much.

But also—

It’s so good.

You exhale shakily, fingers trembling where they rest on his chest.

Hoseok’s lips press into your temple, soft, grounding.

His voice dips lower, quieter.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod frantically.

Because—

Because yes.

Because you’re so full, but you don’t want to move.

Not yet.

Not when it feels like this.

Hoseok smiles.

"That’s my girl."

Then—

His fingers tighten.

"Now," he murmurs, smirk pressing into your jaw, "stay still while I ruin you."

His hands slide up your sides again, slow, deliberate, palms pushing the shirt further open, exposing more of your body to his touch. But he doesn’t pull it off. Doesn’t let you be fully bare. He keeps you like this—half-dressed, swallowed in his shirt, draped in his fabric—while he sinks deeper inside you.

Your breath catches.

Because you believe him.

Because he’s still so deep, still so thick inside you, and you can feel the way your walls flutter around him, feel the way your body is trying to adjust but still clenching down, still so tight, still not used to him yet.

And yet—

His fingers tighten at your waist.

And then—

He moves.

The first drag is slow.

Not a thrust, not a pull, not a sharp snap of his hips—just a shift, a deep, rolling movement, barely anything at all—

But you feel it everywhere.

Your walls clench at the stretch, the drag, at the way his cock pulls against every sensitive spot inside you before pressing back in again, seating himself fully inside you again, making sure you stay full, making sure you stay stretched around him.

Your whimper is shattered.

"Oh my god—"

Hoseok groans.

His hands hold you down, keeping you trapped in his lap, forcing you to take it, forcing you to sit with it, forcing you to feel every single inch of him as he rocks into you.

"Good girl," he praises, voice warm, deep, slipping into your hair as his lips press against your temple. "Taking me so well."

Your whole body trembles.

His hands move up your back, palms flat, warm, steady, keeping you anchored against his chest.

Then—

Another slow thrust.

Deeper this time.

The drag of him burns, the stretch still so tight, but it feels good, feels like something your body is learning, something it’s adjusting to, something it’s craving now.

You writhe. "Hobi—"

"Dr. Jung," he corrects, lips dragging down the side of your throat, voice thick, teasing, mocking, and your walls clencharound him at the sound—

He feels it.

Of course he does.

He groans, grip flexing at your hips, fingers pressing harder, making you sink onto him, making sure you stay stuffed full of him.

"Fuck," he murmurs against your skin. "This tight little cunt." His teeth scrape against your jaw, breath hot against your ear. "Gripping me so well."

Your hips jerk.

A sharp little movement—too fast, too eager, your body trying to chase the friction, trying to take more—

Hoseok stills you immediately.

His grip tightens.

His fingers dig in.

He stops you completely.

Your breath shudders. "H-Hoseok—"

He exhales slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

Then—

"Don’t rush me, baby."

Your stomach flips.

Because—

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

You thought he was taking it slow for you.

Thought he was helping you adjust.

But—

But that’s not it, is it?

Hoseok is pacing himself.

For himself.

Because he’s still in control.

Because he’s still making you wait, still making you suffer, still teaching you what it means to take him properly.

Your thighs tremble.

You whimper, voice small, and—

Hoseok groans, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, fingers massaging at your hips.

Then—

He moves again.

Slow.

Measured.

Deep.

Rocking you into it.

Letting you feel it.

Letting you drown in it.

And fuck, you do.

The next roll of his hips is sharper.

It drags something new out of you—something sweet, something helpless, something hot that makes your fingers clenchinto his shoulders, makes your walls pulse around him in a way that makes him groan.

"There it is," Hoseok murmurs, breath warm against your cheek. "That's my girl."

Your stomach flips.

Because—

Oh.

Oh, you love this.

You love how good he is, how skilled he is, how precise he is with every movement. You love the way he’s picking up the pace now, the way his hips are guiding you into it, the way he’s still holding you still while he moves, making you take it.

You whimper.

Hoseok hums.

"So cute," he murmurs, voice thick, teasing, lips pressing softly to the corner of your mouth. "So eager for me."

Your walls clench down at the praise, and he groans, feels it, lets his hands tighten at your hips.

"H-Hoseok—"

"Dr. Jung," he corrects again, but this time—

This time, he smirks when he says it.

Your cheeks burn.

Because you know what he’s doing.

And he knows you love it.

His hands shift—one slipping from your hip to cup the back of your neck, holding you close, keeping you right there, breath mingling, bodies melded together.

Then—

He thrusts up.

You gasp, eyes going wide, mouth parting, and—

Hoseok laughs.

"That’s it, baby," he exhales, delighted, shifting his grip at your waist, holding you down now, keeping you in place while he moves.

He picks up his pace, guiding you into deep, steady rolls, each one pressing him harder into that spot inside you that makes your thighs tremble.

Your head falls forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder, and you whimper, overwhelmed, breath catching with every movement.

Hoseok groans, his lips pressing to the top of your head, voice warm, fond.

"You’re so sweet like this."

Another snap of his hips, and you wail.

His fingers splay over your back, holding you there, keeping you wrapped around him.

"So pretty when you take me so well," he murmurs, voice soothing even as he fucks you deeper, even as he makes you writhe.

Your thighs are shaking, your whole body melting into his hands, and Hoseok just smiles.

"Good girl," he breathes, kissing your temple. "You love this, don’t you?"

You nod frantically, breath hiccupping out of you, and he laughs, pleased, his hips rolling harder, making you feel it, making you understand how good he is.

"You love me taking care of you, don’t you, baby?" His fingers press into your waist, shifting you just right against him. "Love being my good girl?"

Your moan is wrecked, and he groans, pressing his lips softly to your cheek, voice warm, teasing.

"Such a sweet thing."

And then—

He really starts fucking you.

Hoseok moves before you can even process it.

One moment, you’re wrapped around him, clinging to his shoulders, gasping into his mouth—

The next, your back is hitting the mattress.

Your breath shatters.

He never leaves you.

Never disconnects.

His arms stay wrapped around you, his cock still seated deep inside you as he shifts, as he sprawls you out beneath him, as he spreads you wide across his sheets.

You whimper. "H-Hoseok—"

"Dr. Jung," he murmurs, voice dark, teasing, breath hot against your throat.

His fingers slide up your arms, pushing the fabric of the sleeves further back, exposing more skin.

The movement pulls the shirt even wider open, leaving it hanging loosely around your frame, framing the wrecked state of your body beneath him.

Then—

He thrusts.

Hard.

Deep.

Your head tilts back, a wrecked moan spilling from your lips, and—

He pins you down.

His hands grab your wrists, pressing them above your head, keeping them trapped against the pillows.

Then—

His other hand slides down.

Down your waist.

Down your thigh.

And then—

He presses it down.

His palm flattens against the inside of your thigh, forcing it against the mattress, spreading you wider, opening you up even more for him.

The shirt slips further apart with the movement, fabric barely clinging to your shoulders, gaping open, leaving you completely at his mercy.

Your moan is shattered.

You can’t move.

You can’t do anything.

He has you pinned, held open, fucked into the mattress.

And then—

He starts moving.

Deep.

Fast.

Sharp.

His hips slam into you, cock driving into that spot inside you that makes your whole body lock up, makes your walls clench around him, makes your thighs tremble against his sheets.

"Oh my god—"

Hoseok groans.

"You can take it, baby," he murmurs, voice thick, his fingers tight around your wrists, his hand pressing your thigh flat against the bed.

His hips snap into you, faster, harder, and you wail, body helpless beneath him, body opening for him, body taking everything he gives you.

"That’s it," he breathes, voice soothing, lips brushing over your jaw. "Take it, baby."

Your whole body writhes.

His fingers tighten at your wrists, his hand firm at your thigh, holding you down, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

Then—

A soft kiss to your cheek.

"You feel so good like this," he murmurs, voice warm, like he isn’t currently fucking you into the mattress, like he isn’t making you take it so deep you’re practically seeing stars.

"So sweet for me," he breathes, lips dragging down your neck, tongue flicking against your pulse. "Such a good girl, letting me ruin you."

The weight of his body presses you into the mattress, the soft linen of his shirt bunching beneath you, trapping heat between your bodies.

The scent of him lingers in the fabric, surrounding you, filling every breath as he fucks you deeper.

Your moan is wrecked.

And Hoseok just smiles.

Then—

He snaps his hips even faster.

The pleasure builds too fast.

Too deep, too sharp, too much at once.

He’s fucking you open, pace relentless, cock slamming into that spot inside you over and over and over—

And your body can’t fight it.

Your thighs shake.

Your back arches.

Your walls clench down so tight around him that he groans, deep and wrecked, his grip bruising at your wrists, his hand pressing your thigh, keeping you trapped beneath him.

"H-Hoseok—"

"I know, baby," he pants, voice low, thick, his lips dragging over your jaw. "I know."

And then—

You break.

Your orgasm tears through you, a white-hot detonation that rips a shattered wail from your throat, your body convulsing, your walls clamping down on him, your thighs trembling.

But it doesn’t stop.

Your body keeps going.

The pleasure keeps pulsing, keeps cresting, one wave crashing into the next, your walls still fluttering, still milking his cock, still wringing him out—

And it destroys him.

Hoseok groans, voice breaking, hips jerking, pace turning erratic, messy, as he fucks you harder, deeper, chasing the unbearable tightness of you, the way your body won’t stop squeezing him.

The sweat-slick fabric sticks between you, damp at your lower back where the shirt has ridden up with the intensity of his thrusts.

But he barely notices—too focused on fucking you apart, on making sure you take everything, on keeping you wrapped in him.

"Fucking hell—"

His grip tightens on your hands while he spreads your legs wider, letting him drive in even deeper, harder, rutting into you with sharp, needy thrusts.

Your breath splinters.

Your back arches.

And then—

He curses, voice wrecked, pace losing rhythm completely, his body shuddering as he slams into you one last time—

And spills inside you.

His groan is low, broken, forehead dropping against your shoulder, muscles tensing as his cock pulses, warmth flooding deep inside the condom.

His breath hiccups against your skin.

Your walls flutter around him, aftershocks still shuddering through you, body still milking him, pleasure still lingering.

A beat.

A slow, heavy inhale.

Then—

His grip on your wrists loosens.

His hand on your thigh softens.

And then—

Hoseok laughs, breathless, voice low, wrecked.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Chip," he murmurs, exhaling shakily against your cheek. "You're gonna kill me."

Hoseok doesn’t move at first.

Just stays inside you, buried deep, forehead pressed against your shoulder, chest rising and falling steadily against yours.

His breath is warm against your skin, soft little exhales against the slope of your collarbone, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you close.

Then—

A deep, satisfied hum.

"You’re trembling, baby."

His voice is thick, smooth and soothing, and—

Oh.

Oh, you are.

Your whole body is shaking, weak and wrecked, nerves still firing from overstimulation, muscles useless beneath the weight of him.

Hoseok smiles against your skin.

"So precious."

Your face burns. "Shut up—"

But the words slur together—breathless, wrecked, voice barely functional—and Hoseok chuckles, amused, because—

Oh, he loves this.

Loves seeing you like this.

Loves knowing he’s the reason for it.

His lips press to your temple.

"Think you can move, sweetheart?"

You try, but the oversized fabric shifts against your skin, a reminder of how wrecked you are beneath it, how ruined you are in his clothes, how you’re still wrapped in him even now.

Your breath hiccups.

You try to shift, try to sit up, try to do anything—

And fail completely.

Your limbs don’t respond.

Your legs feel like lead.

Your thighs twitch, weak and useless, and you whimper, realizing you are—

Entirely.

Completely.

Boneless.

Hoseok grins.

"That’s what I thought."

Hoseok exhales, shifting above you, and the movement drags the loose cotton against your overheated skin, the open edges brushing against your ribs as he adjusts his grip.

His eyes flicker down, taking in the sight of you—flushed, trembling, drowning in the fabric of his own damn shirt—and something dark glints in his gaze.

His arms tighten around you—secure, steady—before he moves, rolling both of you until your back meets the mattress and he’s hovering above you, still inside, still deep, still making you feel the stretch of him.

Your breath catches.

His smirk widens.

"So cute," he murmurs, voice low, hands smoothing down your waist, fingers tracing over every twitching muscle, everywhere he’s left his mark on you.

Then—

"We’re gonna shower."

You barely process the words, too dazed, too sensitive, but then—his hands are on you again.

Slow, steady, smoothing down your thighs, adjusting the way his shirt still drapes over your body, as if debating whether to peel it off or leave you in it a little longer.

You whimper at the thought—warm water, his hands on you, his help—and the way he says it makes something deep in your stomach curl.

Because—

It’s not a suggestion.

It’s a decision.

A statement.

Like it’s already happening.

Like he’s already made up his mind.

And you—

You love it.

You love that he’s still taking care of you, still controlling the situation, still making sure you’re okay.

His smirk is slow. Amused.

“I like you like this,” he murmurs, fingers tracing over the loose fabric where it pools at your waist.

Your stomach flips.

“Hobi—”

“Dr. Jung,” he corrects easily, shifting back, peeling himself away from you—but not before tugging the shirt closed over your chest, fastening one single button near your collarbone.

Just enough to cover you.

Just enough to keep you in it.

Just enough to remind you exactly who you belong to.

You hum in response, lips parting—

But then—

A thought.

A very bad thought.

"Oh, shit—" Your voice is hoarse, throat still raw from moaning his name, but you panic, trying to move, trying to reach for your phone, trying to—

"Caleb—"

Hoseok snorts.

His fingers press into your waist, holding you down, keeping you still, making you look at him.

His smirk is lazy, amused.

"Already handled, baby."

Your stomach drops.

You blink. "What—"

He reaches for his phone, showing you the text thread with your brother from hours ago:

𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝙷𝚎𝚢, 𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚂𝙽𝚄𝙷. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚊’𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚈/𝙽 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛: 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍?

𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚈/𝙽’𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚜’ 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛: 𝙾𝚑 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚛𝚘.

𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝙽𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖. 𝚃𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙.

"You..." You stare at him. "You planned this? Before—"

"No. I texted him after I gave you the 20 minute warning." His thumb traces your lip. "Before that, I called in a favor from one of the nurses that know Kiara. Managed to get out early as soon as I knew you were drunk in that club. Got there, saw you; texted you."

"But you were mad. You blocked me—"

"I was." He kisses your temple. "Still am. But I was worried. Couldn’t help keeping an eye on you. And I wasn't letting you go home with that intern."

Your heart flutters. Because this is peak Hoseok—calculating every detail, ten steps ahead, making sure you're taken care of even when he's furious with you.

"How did you know I'd—"

"Misbehave?" His laugh is soft. "Because I know you, Chip. Know exactly how to make you chase what you want."

You should be annoyed at his confidence. Instead, you're melting further into his sheets.

"Now." He finally slips out of you, making you whine at the loss. "Shower. Then sleep. You have approximately—" He checks his watch. "—fourteen hours before you need to be at Kiara’s for brunch."

You blink. "What?"

"She's covering for us." He lifts you effortlessly. "Telling Caleb you crashed there after drinking. You'll show up tomorrow, properly hungover, full of stories about girls' night."

Your head spins. "You arranged all that while driving?"

"While fingering you, actually. In the elevator." His smile is smug. "Multitasking is a valuable skill in medicine."

"I hate you."

"No you don't." He carries you to the bathroom. "You love that I think of everything."

He's right.

You absolutely do.

→ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @just-reading-dany @sanarin @billy-jeans23 @stuti2904 @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @hobis-sprite0218 @mcflurry-220 @mar-lo-pap @mikrokookiex @minniejim

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 4 months ago

Text

The Art of Etiquette Part 11 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: The days leading up to the ball become fewer but a harsh reality hits you leaving you more conflicted than you already were. Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: No real warnings a/n: So yeah...it's been a while. Sorry it took me so long to update this story and sorry it's so short but I wanted to bring this one back into the light. I know I keep on saying the ball is in the next chapter but it really will be in part 12 I promise. I wanted to make this chapter longer but I figured I made you guys wait long enough...plus I needed to reintroduce something I spoke about in the first chapter. Start from the beginning

The next couple of days go by in a blur.

Extra long lessons with Jungkook after my seemingly never ending lectures have my head pounding.

"Miss y/n?" my professor calls me over to his desk, finishing up my last lecture before I have to go see Jungkook. "Yes?" I ask and wait patiently for him to hopefully get to thee point sooner rather than later.

"The submission deadline for the writing contest is this weekend. Have you submitted your piece?" he asks, looking up at me through his glasses from his seated position.

I curse at myself internally, having completely spaced about it.

"I haven't but I plan on doing so as soon as I can! The deadline is Sunday night right?" I pray, hoping that I'm correct. "It's Saturday night at 11:59 pm. Do you think you'll be able to complete it in time?" he questions, adjusting his glasses.

"Yes, of course. They won't be holding the awards ceremony until next month though correct?" I ask and he hums, confirming my suspicions. "Should be around two or three weeks after depending on how many submissions they get"

I nod and thank him once more for the opportunity and luckily the reminder as well and quickly rush out. I choose to text Jungkook this time the reason why I'll be a few minutes late again, hoping that'll keep him from nagging me about it too much

~~~~~

"You seem...distracted today" Jungkook points out, watching as I wondered off in thought for the fifth time today.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. What were you saying?" I ask, feeling guilty since he's gone out of his way to go through the guest list of the rsvp'd attendees of the ball this weekend. Making sure to tell me a little about each family to hopefully prepare me for the kinds of people that'll be there and how to compose myself around them.

"Let's take a break, otherwise you'll start mixing everyone up" he chuckles and sits down in a chair that's more or less facing me.

"Are you alright?" he asks, tilting his head and taking note of the wrinkles between my brows as I'm clearly fighting some sort of internal battle that doesn't involve him today.

"I have this writing contest that I had completely forgotten about and the due date is this Saturday" I sigh, slumping in my chair but this time he luckily doesn't scold me for it.

"The same day as the charity ball..." he trails off and I nod, covering my face with my hands.

"He told me about it over a month ago" I grumble and Jungkook chuckles warmly at my inner turmoil. I groan as a response and he decides to not tease me about it anymore.

After a while of sitting in silence he pulls my hands away from my face, making me glare at him as a response.

"Today is Tuesday correct?" he asks and I respond with a sigh of a small 'yes'. "I have an idea then" he says, peaking my interest. "Why don't we spend part of our time on our lessons and the rest of the time on your paper" he offers making my brows furrow.

"You'd do that for me?" I say, sitting up straight in my chair, trying to figure out if this is a joke or not but he simply nod.

"I don't see why not. You've been doing well in all of your lessons with me and I think you're more than prepared for the ball so there's no need to beat a dead horse. We'll just spend a little bit of our time getting to know the attendees and do a dance or two to keep you sharp and then I'll help you with your paper" he says and get's up to clear a space on his desk.

"You'll help me?" I question, his willingness to sacrifice our lesson time for my extracurriculars surprising.

"I know it's important to you and if there's any way I could be of any sort of help to you then just let me know. You can work at my desk if you'd like" he says, picking up my bag that he knows has my laptop in it and bringing it over to said desk.

It's times like these where he's sending me mixed signals of going from an etiquette teacher to someone who seems to truly care about me that makes me almost want to ask him questions like 'What are we?' or 'What are your intentions with me?' but even that last one is too open ended.

"Are you alright?" he asks, when I haven't moved a muscle to walk over to his desk yet leaving me shaking my head in a way to get me out of my train of thought.

"Yes. Sorry, yes I'm fine. I'm just trying to figure out what sort of topic I'd like to write about" I explain, owning up to what my partial train of thought might've been earlier.

"Well what sort of contest is it? Is it for an article? A study?" he asks, going at it with a more academic approach, which makes sense in this case it's anything but that.

"It's creative writing. Basically anything from stories of love to poems of heartbreak to even the most suspenseful horror thrillers you could come across!" I say, getting more excited as time goes by, thinking about all the possibilities and topics I could write about.

Picking one though is going to be difficult.

"Have you chosen your genre yet?" he asks and I plop myself down on his desk chair, sighing and opening up the blank document that I've been staring at off and on for weeks.

"You haven't even started it?" he sighs and I shake my head, disheartened at the thought of waisting so much of my precious free time with nothing to show for it.

"What do you usually write about?" he asks, helping me work through the creative process. "Mostly love stories" I sigh and when I look up at him I see him smiling down at me, "Don't laugh" I glare and he holds his hands up in surrender.

"I wasn't laughing, I was smiling. There's a difference" he smirks and brings a chair over to sit near me. "Yeah well don't do that. It makes me feel like you're mocking me for being a lovesick schoolgirl" I grumble and he chuckles.

"Aren't you?" he says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin on his fist, giving me that infuriatingly attractive grin he knows does wonders on a girl's nervous system. "No, I'm not. Now would you please be quiet if you're not going to be helpful" I huff, pulling the flyer out of my bag and giving it a once over.

"Okay enough with the teasing I'll help" he says and looks over my shoulder to check it out as well before I hand it to him and go looking through my Pinterest board to see if I can find some inspiration.

"Have you ever written a love story set in the eighteen hundreds? Something to do with kings and queens? Princes and Princesses?" he suggests and I know for a fact that I haven't. "Isn't that a little too cheesy with the whole fairytale kind of route?" I say, pointing out how cliché it would be.

"Not if I help you" he offers and I look at him suspiciously. "What sorts of people do you think I would have to study in order to be a proper etiquette teacher?" he says, his words answering the question I had telepathically asked.

"I guess you'd be the perfect collaborator in that respect" I admit and he nods and moves his chair closer making me lean away from him as a response.

"You know I don't bite pretty now come on, we've got some work to do" he taunts, slipping in that pet name he knows messes with my head, leaving me scoffing in response before turning back to the blank document staring me in the face on my computer screen.

~~~~~

The next two days we do just as he had said, spending an hour or two on my lessons and the rest on my story. However rushed it is I feel like it's my best story yet.

The research on the time period has been simple since Jungkook's had all the answers and if not he finds them out for me, making this whole piece seem even more authentic.

When I take breaks Jungkook pours over the text, doing edits here and there and talking me through the scenes to help formulate some parts a little more artistically, making the regal setting come to life.

Friday has been a different story, as both deadlines approach us the time we have left is in conflict of where our priorities should lie.

"We can skip our lesson today" Jungkook finally says after I've put my heels on. "But tomor-" "You're ready" he say, cutting me off mid sentence. "Spend the rest of your time on your story" he smiles softly and places a hand on my shoulder before leaving the room, no doubt to get us some sustenance to keep us going.

Something about the interaction made my heart flutter. His confidence in me as well as his want for me to spend time on something I'm truly passionate about makes a sort of funny feeling settle in my stomach.

Am I-?

"Black or green tea this time?" he asks, coming back into the room with a little tray of food and tea pot ready to envelop the tea leaves of choice. "Black please, I need all the energy I can get" he chuckles and does just that, adding a few scoops to the pot before closing the lid and letting it steep.

"Were you able to work on it again once you went home?" he asks, bringing my bag over to his desk and pulling my laptop out for me. "I did but it's hard to work on it without yo- without being here" I say, not wanting to admit that I in some way needed him, my cheeks heating up at the slip up.

"Right" he smiles, not sparing me a glance as he plugs in my charger and pulls the chair out for me.

"Is everything alright?" he asks once he sees my hesitance in coming closer but I shake my head and as a result shake myself out of the headspace I had allowed myself to trail into.

"There's nothing to be nervous about" he says, reading me perfectly like he always does. "What if it's not good enough?" I sigh, my hands resting in my lap, not making moves to reach for the keys.

"It's a beautiful story told from the heart about a love so true one could only dream to experience something so heartbreaking" he says and his compliment however sincere seems unable to reach me now.

Once he's seen my head droop further he turns my chair around and crouches in front of me, tilting my chin up the slightest bit. "Your writing is beautiful. Anyone who's eyes get to land on a single word of yours should thank their lucky stars" he says making me smile just the slightest bit.

"There she is" he says with a warm tone, one I had never heard before making my heart flutter once again.

"Now come on" he says spinning me back around to face the screen. "We've got a deadline to meet do we not?" he says and places his hands on my shoulders as a way to show some confidence and solidarity, believing in me until his last breath.

"We do indeed" I chuckle softly and finally rest my fingers upon those familiar keys.

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fairytaleendingss · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I’m loving Room For One More, and you said you were taking requests?

This is kind of a general one, but could you do another chapter focusing on Remus’ chronic illness?

I struggle with severe chronic pain and chronic illness in general and haven’t had a relationship in 5 years bc of it (it’s hard to meet people and a lot of people see it as a burden, unfortunately) so seeing cute fluffy things with chronic illness representation gives me hope for the future 😅

Thanks for the consideration :))

- ✨💚

Room for One More?

Chapter 13

Summary: You and Remus have some time to bond.

CW: Depiction of chronic illness, alcohol consumption.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

So I received this request a few months back and I feel really guilty that I haven't gotten to it sooner. I know how important representation is and I wanted to make sure I gave it a the proper time and thought it deserves. I also I wanted to include it somewhere that made sense to the plot of the story and I hadn't found a good spot previously.

I feel like I could've done better during this series in general with including Remus' illness and I'm going to try harder to make more reference to it in the remaining chapters. I feel that my representation of RA throughout this story hasn't been present enough since it was introduced and I'd like to try to capture a more accurate depiction of it going forward.

One again, I want to disclose that I myself do not suffer from any chronic illnesses, so I apologise for any inaccuracies that may be in here.

I hope this is what you were looking for, anon and sorry again that it took so long. Enjoy the chapter.

Mary was staring. Leaning up against the kitchen counter in her brand new apartment. It was her housewarming party. She and Lily had just moved in to a new place together and decided to throw a celebration. All of their friends were there, crowded around, drinking wine and listening to an eclectic shared Spotify playlist.

However, there was something not quite right about the picture she was looking at. She was watching from across the room as you and James danced together, laughing goofily as you pretended to know what you were doing. Beside you on the couch sat Remus and Sirius, snuggled up together, laughing at the display.

She narrowed her eyes as she watched. She was happy for you all, of course she was. She loved how happy you'd recently seemed, however, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something... off about the new sets of couples that had recently emerged in the apartment.

"Is everything okay, love?"

"Huh?" she was snapped from her thoughts as Lily came to stand beside her, rubbing a gentle hand down her girlfriend's arm.

Lily chuckled. "I wanted to know if everything's okay. You look like you just bit down on a lemon."

Mary raised her brows. "Do you think something weird's going on with them?"

Lily glanced across the room. "No? I think they look happy."

"Hmm, maybe," Mary responded, unconvinced. "I just feel like there's something we're missing."

Lily just smirked, taking Mary's glass of White Wine from her hand. "I think you've had a few too many glasses of this tonight."

Mary rolled her eyes affectionately. "Nonsense. I don't know what you're talking about."

Lily leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her girlfriend's waiting lips.

---

The energy in the room was high as Mary's playlist gave soundtrack to the evening. You and James were dancing around the room, utterly embarrassing yourselves while Sirius and Remus sat curled up together, Sirius throwing his head back and groaning dramatically every time a Taylor Swift song came on.

"Come on, Sirius. You aren't fooling anyone!" James exclaimed towards his friend as he twirled you playfully. "I know you listen to 1989 while you work out."

"I do not," he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. "Back me up here?"

He looked up at the man his lap was played across, however, Remus only shrugged. "Sorry love, you hum in your sleep."

Sirius sighed thickly. "You all are the worst. How am I supposed to maintain my rockstar image with accusations like these!"

"I say own it," you chimed in.

"Come on, mate! You know you want to dance!" James exclaimed, doing that stupid lasso throwing move towards him, causing you to let out a loud groan at his silliness.

"I do not," Sirius huffed petulantly.

"Yes you do!"

Sirius paused for a moment, weighing his options before rolling his eyes and begrudgingly standing.

James cheered as Sirius began to join in, moving goofily around to the music. You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched the two dance together. They were always a chaotic duo.

You looked over at Remus who was watching on affectionately.

"You want to join us?" You asked, extending a hand to the man.

He chuckled but shook his head. "I'm alright here, thank you."

"Oh come on, Rem," Sirius exclaimed. "It'll be fun!"

"I'm alright," he stated once more.

"Are you sure?" you asked.

"Uh, yes," he muttered bashfully. "Truth be told, I'm not feeling the best this evening."

"Rem! Why didn't you say anything," James all but shouted, moving to take a closer examination of his friend.

"It's nothing, really. Just my usual symptoms," he tried to brush off but you could see the crease of pain between his brows.

"Well, this won't do," Sirius muttered. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Sirius moved to find the car keys but Remus stopped him with a tug of his wrist.

"Sirius wait. I'm fine, I promise. You were really looking forward to tonight. Besides, I'm designated driver, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah," Sirius hummed, deflating slightly.

"That's okay. I can take you. I've only had one drink," you intervened.

"A-are you sure?" Remus inquired, looking at you guiltily. "I don't want to pull you away from the party."

You smiled at him. "It's okay. There'll surely be others."

"Well thank you. I really appreciate that," he responded sincerely.

"It's no problem, Remus. Let's get going."

Up close, it became all too apparent that Remus really wasn't feeling well. His eyes were shut and he was resting his head against the passenger window the entire way home, his face pinched in pain.

You couldn't help but cringe in sympathy. You wanted to say something but you weren't sure what would be helpful right now, if anything at all. So instead, you drove in silence. You said an internal thank you to whatever higher power encouraged Mary and Lily to move only 20 minutes from where you lived.

Remus sat up slowly, blinking heavily as you pulled into the garage of your building. You looked over at him, biting the inside of your cheek.

"The stairs are going to be a pain," you muttered sympathetically.

Remus sighed deeply and ran a hand down his face. "'Just have to get it over with I suppose."

You exited the car before making your way around to the passenger side to assist Remus. Where he normally would have seemed uncomfortable with this kind of doting, today he just felt grateful.

His joints were so stiff that he could barely make it up the stairs at all but with your support and a lot of effort you managed to get to the front door.

Walking into the apartment, you deposited him on the couch. He groaned and lifted his heavy legs up so they were stretched out in front of him. You sighed deeply as you watched.

"Can I get you anything?" You asked gently. You couldn't help the pang of worry that was congealing in your stomach as you watched him. He was looking extremely pale and there were drops of sweat beading across his forehead, an indicator of the pain he was experiencing.

"My wheat bag would be nice if it's not too much trouble," he muttered stiffly.

"No of course not!" you were quick to respond. "I'll be right back."

You couldn't help but watch him over the kitchen bench as the bag went around in the microwave. You bit your lip nervously. You weren't quite sure what to do to make him feel better. In the time you'd lived with the boys, you'd seen him go through a few flare ups here and there but nothing nearly as bad as this one, and you'd never been here with him on your own either. You'd always had one of the other boys to help out.

You thought for a moment about calling James or Sirius for help but you quickly dismissed that idea. You were being silly. You and Remus had on good terms as of late, you would even go so far as to call him a friend. And he'd taken such good care of you when you'd been unwell all those weeks back, the least you could do was repay the favour.

You straightened up as the microwave began to beep and hurried to deliver the bag to Remus.

He looked up slowly through tired eyes when you returned, smiling appreciatively.

"Where do you want this?"

"My right knee," he muttered and began to carefully lift up his pant leg.

Your eyes widened as he revealed the red, swollen joint.

"Remus! This looks awful!"

You gently placed the wheat bag on the appendage and he let out a gentle sigh of relief.

"Thank you. It's really not that bad."

You gave him a look that told him you could tell he was lying.

"You don't have to pretend to be okay, you know? I'm here to help. I want to know what's really going on."

He let out a breath and ran a shaky hand down his face. You watched as his front receded ever so slightly. In all honesty, he was too tired to put it on anymore.

"Do you mind grabbing the pills from beside my bed?"

You smiled at him gently. "Of course."

You spent the next while doting on Remus. You got him everything he needed, completed his usual chores around the house and even ordered food from his favourite Chinese place for dinner.

All the while, Remus thanked you profusely and you could see the guilt that lingered behind his eyes, despite your continuous reassurance that you were happy to help.

It was about 11pm when you found yourself sitting in the arm chair beside the couch where Remus was situated, watching Netflix together. Every now and then your gaze would flicker towards him, eyes flitting over his features in an attempt to assess how he was feeling. You couldn't help but take notice the way his lips pursed in concentration as his gaze stayed glued to the TV, or the way his hair, in need of a cut, was slightly disheveled and began to curl around the base of his neck. There was something endearing about him, you observed. He was handsome in a sort of tender and understated way. Where James was strong and buff and had a boyish charm, and Sirius' look was bold and unique, Remus' attractiveness was more subtle. He had gentle features and dark, kind eyes that you couldn't help but become lost in. There was something so intriguing and mysterious about him that made you curious to learn more, even during the times where you hadn't been friendly. He was unlike anyone you'd known before.

"You can stop worrying, you know?" He drawled lowly, not turning his gaze away from the TV.

You sat back in your seat, being broken from your thoughts. "I'm not."

"Yes you are. I can feel you looking at me."

"Oh well, excuse me for being concerned about you."

He sighed thickly. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Remus," your voice was small as you replied. There was so much on your mind, especially when it came to him. So much about him you didn't understand.

You bit your lip as you turned back to the TV, watching the colours flicker and flash through the screen, casting light in the otherwise dark room.

After a moment you heard a shuffling begin beside you. Your eyes widened as you turned to look at Remus, who was attempting to swing his legs over the side of the sofa.

"Remus, what on earth are you doing? You're in no position to be walking around right now."

"I'm not! I promise. I was just trying to make some room."

"Oh." Your brows furrowed as he scooted over on the couch. You weren't quite sure what he was trying to do until he patted the spot beside him, glancing up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Will you sit?"

It seemed a peace offering of sorts.

Hesitantly, you got up from your chair and moved to sit beside Remus. Once he was sure you were comfortable, he carefully placed the blanket he was previously using over both your laps.

You looked at him skeptically, unable to gather what was going on in his head. Remus was just like that. Completely unreadable. An enigma.

He cleared his throat nervously. "I'm sorry if I've been a little short with you."

"Remus, it's okay," you responded sincerely. "You're in pain. It isn't your fault."

He sighed. "I don't just mean today."

He turned to look at you, guilt clouding his chocolate eyes.

"I've behaved poorly towards you ever since you moved in. I know it's no excuse but if I'm being honest, I was scared," he didn't know entirely why he felt the need to say it. Maybe it was the medicine or the pain or a combination of both but you'd been so undeservingly kind to him this evening. And all these feeling had been swirling around inside of him for so long, they were ready to burst out of him.

"Things weren't easy for me growing up with... all this." he gestured absently to his leg that was now propped up on the coffee table. "People weren't always understanding about it. Especially when I was younger. It took me a long time to find a place where I felt accepted and not like I was an outcast or a burden. I suppose that means I don't take too kindly to change."

He scratched the back of his neck, feeling his walls slowly but surely begin to lower, as you watched him sympathetically.

"But that was no reason for me to be cruel to you when you've been nothing but kind in return. So for that I'm sorry."

You smiled gently. "Remus, that's okay. I understand."

You shuffled closer to him. "And I'll have you know that no one thinks of you as a burden. You have amazing friends who care about you so much. And as scary as it is to be vulnerable around new people, I promise I would never judge you. I'm always happy to help whenever you need me."

He let out a breath of relief, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He smiled at you kindly, appreciation pooling in his eyes.

"You're wonderful. You know that?"

His words sunk in to your skin and you felt heat rise to your cheeks, suddenly exposed under his gaze. Your eyes fell to your lap as a nervous chuckle escaped you.

Remus reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was unbearably tender. You looked back up at him. His eyes flickered with vulnerability as a heavy tension settled between you, completely unlike the kind that has encompassed you before. Your heart began to race.

It was at that moment, the door burst open and James and Sirius stumbled into the flat.

"Honey, I'm homeeee!" you heard James call out, followed by a excessive amount of snickering from Sirius.

You pulled away from Remus suddenly, scooting back on the couch as if you'd been burned.

"You two are back early," you remarked in surprise.

"We just missed you guys too much!" James exclaimed as he came around the back of the couch and pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek. His breath smelt like wine.

"How are you feeling, my love? Did Y/n take good care of you?" Sirius cooed, coming to sit beside Remus on the arm of the sofa and running a hand through the mans hair.

"She did a lovely job. I might have her replace you next time."

You chuckled and watched as Sirius pressed a hand to his chest and gasped dramatically in mock offence.

"I can't believe this! My own lover is replacing me. How ever will I go on?"

You giggled once more as Remus rolled his eyes fondly.

"On that note, I think it's time for bed, love." Remus turned his attention to you. "Thank you again for all your help tonight."

You smiled gently. "Don't mention it."

As you laid in bed with James' arms curled around you, sleep refused to come.

There was a heavy lump of guilt in your stomach and you didn't fully understand why. It wasn't like you'd done anything wrong. Nothing had even happened. You and Remus had just been talking, that's all. However, the feeling hung over you like a raincloud over your head.

You rolled over to face the boy beside you. The sweet boy who you truly cared for so deeply and you snuggled into his chest.

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to rid your mind of the thought. But as you began to drift off, it was Remus' eyes you saw.

You wondered as you fell asleep, if it was possible to have feelings for more than one person at the same time.

Taglist:

#marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders au

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cottonlemonade · 6 months ago

Text

Brushing Your Stress Away

word count: 1321 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

genre: spice with fluff

warnings: mdni

request: Hello!! can me and my dear Tsukki get an 11 and 23 for lunch before i procrastinate? || fluffy-spicy, dealing with exam stress + studying together with boyfriend Tsukishima

Tsukishima didn’t even flinch when the pen zoomed past his head, bounced off the wall, and landed perfectly in his hamper. Without looking up from his notes, he asked, “Tough chapter?”

You groaned and let yourself fall on your back, arms and legs outspread like a starfish, “I wanted to study art because I love painting, not because I love remembering dates! This is impossible!”

You dramatically flung an arm over your eyes to drive your point home that you were done with studying.

“Come on, only 32 more minutes on the timer.”, your boyfriend said, turning a page and pushing your art history book closer to you.

“No.”, you pouted, wiggling a foot in defiance, “Don’t wanna.”

“So, you plan on working in a museum as… what? A barista?”

Letting your arm fall off your face, you turned your head to look at him, “You could come visit me during your breaks.”

“Not likely. Coffee is disgusting.”

“Not the point, Kei.”

“Resign to your fate or study for another 31 minutes. Either way, stop whining. Some of us want to focus.”

You sat back up, squinting indignantly at your boyfriend, who skillfully ignored you as his eyes skimmed the pages.

Letting out a small huff of boredom, you looked around his bedroom. When he invited you to come spend the break with him in Miyagi you were excited, even more so when on the drive here he casually mentioned that you’d be alone because his older brother was staying at uni with his friends and his mother was away on some conference. But four days of your precious week had already passed without so much as a roaming hand.

On a whim, you reached for your pencil case to take out a cheap replica of an old artist’s brush - a small gift from the souvenir shop Kei had gotten you the last time you visited a museum together. Turning it in your fingers to have something to do, you stared at the page of your book, admiring the pictures at least.

Kei meanwhile, chewed the inside of his cheek, throwing a quick glance over his glasses at you. He knew he wasn’t doing a particularly great job as a boyfriend right now.

To not make it too obvious what he was looking forward to the most during this week together - uninterrupted alone time with no nosy roommate to worry about or forgetting his key and having to spend the rest of his night on a bench in front of his building - he had put together quite the itinerary under the guise of how much you’ve nagged him to show you his hometown (you asked once). Somehow, being in his childhood home after the months away at university made him almost shy. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he felt guilty for bringing you here without telling his mother. However, if his shower thoughts were any indication, he wanted nothing more than to make use of the empty house with you - not seeming too eager, of course. He flipped a page without having read the previous one. Unless he finally acted on his impulses, you would return to academic life without even a good solid make-out session at this point.

A soft caressing sensation on his arm made him snap out of his thoughts. He found you running your brush along a faint vein on his wrist.

“What are you doing?”, he asked unnecessarily but didn’t pull away.

“Nothing.”

The smooth bristles followed his long fingers now one by one.

Without any conviction, he said instinctively, “Stop that.”, whilst really hoping you wouldn’t.

Luckily, you never listened to him, so instead you brought the brush up to his neck and tickled the sensitive spot under his ear. He shuddered and you laughed.

“You think this is funny?”, he asked.

“Hilarious, actually.”, you said.

He got to his knees and all too easily made you tumble backward, making sure to catch your head in his hand before towering over you. With a superior sneer, he took the brush from you.

“Let’s see how ticklish you are.”

Trapped between his long legs, you giggled and squirmed when he ran the brush under your chin, and you ducked your head between your shoulders to defend yourself. So he brought it to your ear.

“Stop!”

Your hand shot up to cover one side, but he just took this to mean he could attack the other. He sat back on his heels and in an attempt to hide the outline in his sweats, pursed his lips in fake pondering.

“Hmm… looks like you leave me no choice.”, he shrugged with a heavy sigh and unceremoniously lifted the hem of your shirt, making extra sure his palm, rough from the years of playing volleyball, dragged gently over your pillowy tummy as he did. You became very still, waiting for his next move. He felt you pressing your thighs together between his legs and scoffed while painting invisible lines on your skin as if he were sketching the outline of your bra.

“This is very much in the way.”, he said more to himself than to you and pulled a cup down from your breast. He leaned forward now, his free hand holding him up next to your head and with precise little teasing strokes he flicked the brush over your perked nipple. You made a small noise, one he loved to hear so much, so he did it again, and again.

“Pretty sure the other one is just as sensitive.”, he murmured and without warning, he pulled down the second cup, tucking it safely under your breast, then got the brush into position. You bucked your hips under him when he twirled the bristles this time.

“You’re right, this is fun.”, he noted and kissed you, not letting up on the teasing with the brush. You ground against him, making him gasp into the kiss.

“Will you finally focus on your studies if I give you what you want?” He had trouble catching his breath, was met with a very enthusiastic nod, and kissed you again.

Kei moved back, slowly dragging your sweats down with him, and had to suppress a dreamy groan. You were nothing short of perfection. With the pudgy tummy, the generous love handles, and full thighs you had always reminded him of beauty depicted in Renaissance paintings.

He shifted to lay on his stomach, propped up on his forearms, spinning the brush in his long fingers. A little spring of pride bloomed in him when he noticed a wet patch on your panties already.

The more he dragged the brush over the soaked fabric the more he noticed a definite gleam on the bristles. With the very tip of it, he focused on the pronounced little nub of your clit and was rewarded with a high moan. He was curious if he’d be able to make you cum just with a simple little painter’s brush when the door to his room slid open.

“WOAH!”

Akiteru spun around to look away.

“Sorry! I just heard a noise and - don’t mind me.”

“Why aren’t you in Tokyo?!”, Kei yelled in frustration, scrambling to his feet. A low rustling behind him told him you followed his example.

“Needed some fresh air?” His brother shrugged awkwardly, still with his back to him. “I’ll uhm… I’ll head to the convenience store. Should take me maybe 20 minutes. Do with that information what you will.”

He grabbed around behind him to find the handle before pulling the door closed again, then called from the hallway, “I’ll bring you some snacks!”

Kei exhaled, rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “I’m sorry… y/n, I- mfpg”, he was interrupted by you turning his head and yanking him down to you by the collar of his shirt to kiss him.

“You heard him, 20 minutes. Let’s go.”

a/n: reader was on mission! Thank you to the anon who requested this prompt! I hope you enjoyed it 🌟

#tsukishima x chubby reader #tsukki x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x curvy reader #tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukki smut #tsukkishima x reader #tsukki x reader #hq tsukki #haikyuu tsukki #tsukkishima kei #hq smut #haikyuu smut

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joequiinn · 1 year ago

Text

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 11

[chap ten] | [all chapters here] | [chap twelve]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | Y'all this chapter got away from me! The plot just kept going and going and going, and I kept thinking up more ideas, so hopefully this doesn't feel too longwinded! Can't wait to see what everyone thinks of this one~

WC | 10.9k

Chapter Eleven

Sitting in the passenger seat of the van, you impatiently fussed with your fingernails, checking out the window every 30 seconds for a sign of Eddie, who had disappeared through the back door of a shady liquor store some five minutes ago. It was the night of homecoming - the night of the party - and Eddie insisted he pick up some booze on the way to Rick’s place. According to him, booze or food or drugs of some kind was your ticket into the party - from what you’d heard of this Rick guy, he sounded like a bit of a mooch, but maybe you were just assuming too much.

Leading up to this weekend, you’d been grounded thanks to the argument with your mom and your subsequent disappearance after that. Apparently, your mom had called your uncle Tom in hysterics, panicking about where you could have run off to. Trying to imagine your mother crying or even raising your voice seemed a little far-fetched, so you figured they’d lied about that in order to make you feel guilty for the whole thing. Hell, once you returned home that Thursday afternoon, you were lectured by both your father and uncle Tom about what you did, each of them reprimanding you for the thoughtlessness of what you did.

Honestly, being grounded for a week wasn’t even that bad. In fact, it was almost disappointing that it hadn’t been more satisfying. You were so looking forward to getting in enough trouble to lose TV privileges or maybe even car privileges, but really the punishment felt virtually non-existent. After only one day of your mom driving you to school (something that Eddie, of course, laughed at), she gave up on that and returned your keys, although she was adamant that you were only to drive to and from school or the ice rink.

You probably sounded crazy, but you wished that the punishment had been more severe, more substantial. Your first time being grounded was far from impressive, so you figured you’d have to up the ante at some point. Maybe even this weekend, although getting in trouble again wasn’t your top priority for tonight.

Eddie finally exited the liquor store, so you sat back up in your seat and straightened out your clothes as he approached the van. Admittedly, you’d been growing a little nervous waiting here in the back alley all by yourself, not that you’d tell Eddie that. No, as he climbed into the van with an eager look and a case of beer, you made sure to look bored and unaffected, as if you hadn’t nearly jumped out of your skin thanks to the crazy shouting of a homeless man just a couple minutes ago.

You looked between Eddie and the case of beer, watching as he deposited it on the floor behind his seat. A small knot formed between your brow as you asked with mild disappointment, “Only beer?”

In response, Eddie gave you a coy look before reaching inside his jacket, pulling out a wine cooler that he presented as if it were a sacred scepter. Your face immediately brightened as you accepted it, readjusting in your seat again as Eddie started up the van.

“As if I’d forget.” He teased, turning up the radio before backing out of the alley and onto the road. You popped the bottle cap of your drink, trying not to cringe at the taste as you took a quick sip - after all, a cheap wine cooler was still better than a beer any day of the week.

“Who’s gonna be there?” You asked between sips, your eyes studying Eddie’s face and the drum of his hand on the steering wheel.

You’d spent the last week at the lunch table with Eddie’s nerdy friends, and although they still seemed hesitant around you (except for Dustin, who didn’t seem to hesitate around anyone), they weren’t nearly as awkward and standoffish as before. Yeah, they were all still weird and you still felt like an outside observer of their little world, but they were growing on you, and you hoped that you were growing on them, to.

Eddie glanced at you for a moment with a false look of apology, “Unfortunately, only the freshmen.”

You glowered at his teasing, giving his shoulder a shove as he gleefully laughed, “Shut up.”

You nonetheless smiled as you shook your head, taking another long sip of your drink. Eddie's teasing had only gotten worse over the course of the past week, taking every opportunity he could to poke at you. Evidently, your make-up-turned-sleepover had done wonders, undeniably causing a change to the relationship between you two. It was becoming easier to relax around Eddie, easier to simply exist in each other’s space, easier to become friends. And although you were never the type to be too sincere, Eddie knew you had come to enjoy his company, even if there were days he taunted you too much.

“Beer?” Eddie requested simply, knowing that the case had shifted around while driving so he wouldn’t be able to blindly find it with his hand. You pretended to consider it for a moment, waiting for Eddie to shoot you a look before you acquiesced.

You shuffled in your seat, getting your knees under you while spinning around to reach into the back of the van. The case of beer had slid out of your immediate reach, so you had to stretch for it, half your body leaning into the back so you could get Eddie a drink. As your fingers grazed one of the bottles, you had to pull at your skirt with the opposite hand, feeling the cold breeze from the open window tickling at your exposed thighs. A small huff of annoyance escaped you as you tried to keep your balance, briefly relinquishing the grip on your skirt so you could steady yourself on Eddie’s seat. As you finally grabbed a bottle, you were too preoccupied to notice Eddie’s eyes flick over to your legs or his cheeks reddened as he ripped his gaze away.

You settled back into your seat, opening the bottle for Eddie before handing it to him. As you picked up your own drink again, you returned to your earlier thought, “Will Gareth be there at least?”

Eddie took a large swig of his drink before giving you a cheeky look, “Thinking about cheating on me?”

You had to refrain from hitting his shoulder again, instead opting to roll your eyes with a grin, “I’ll even let you watch, if you like.”

“And they say romance is dead.” You and Eddie grinned humorously at each other before he returned his attention to driving, and you returned your attention to the rhythmic drumming of his fingers.

Following the past week, you’d decided that Gareth was your favorite of the bunch, at least thus far - his expressive face was particularly amusing amidst the chaos of the lunch table, and although he was awkward, he was still nonetheless the easiest to talk to. It’s not that you exactly cared all that much about spending time with the nerds tonight, but rather Gareth could be someone to keep you company should Eddie disappear at any point in the evening.

As you two continued driving through Hawkins, you eventually entered the neighborhood your school was in, causing you to sneer as you saw the sign in the distance. Given the time, you knew that the dance was already in full swing, and for whatever reason that made you even more annoyed, “I almost hope we win, even if it is a joke - just to piss them all off.”

Eddie laughed a little, stealing a glance at your sour expression, “That’d be the first time I won anything. Think we should swing by to say hi?”

Despite your spiteful look, you still couldn’t the way Eddie’s silly suggestion made you smirk, “If by ‘say hi’ you mean ‘slash Duncan’s tires,’ then I’d love to. Asshole still hasn’t gotten what he deserves for his shit.”

As you turned back towards Eddie, you realized he looked… thoughtful? It caused your small grin to slacken - why did he look like he was considering what you said a little too seriously? Your brow rose questioningly as Eddie’s wicked eyes met yours, a dark smile on his lips. God, he was thinking about it.

“Then I guess we’re saying hi.” He said in an almost sing-song voice, pulling into the drive of the school before he missed it.

“Eddie.” Your tone was warning, and you nearly felt like a scolding mother by using his first name. You’d nearly forgotten this past month that Eddie was, in fact, a delinquent, someone who dealt drugs, who apparently “knew a guy” at the liquor store, who had had more than one run in with your uncle. But if you were in need of a reminder that you and Eddie were from very different worlds, well, this was it.

Entering the parking lot full of cars, he leveled you with an honest and serious look, “Tell me you don’t wanna slash his tires, and we’ll go. Promise.”

A little paranoid, you looked around, fearful that someone might spot Eddie’s van here. The sun had already set about half an hour ago, so the dark of night was at least a mild comfort to you, and it didn’t appear as if anyone else was nearby. Though, from experience, you knew that there may be a few straggles that could arrive late or frisky couples leaving early to fuck in the back of their cars. As you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, you met Eddie’s eyes with an unsure look - one of both worry and intrigue - and so he raised his brows, patiently waiting for your decision.

Shit, you really didn’t hate the idea. In fact, the selfish side of you loved it. Duncan, of all people, could more than afford to replace a set of tires, and you’d been desperately trying to think of ways to get back at him since that stupid pep assembly. And sure, you’d driven after a couple of drinks or trespassed onto properties in the middle of the night, so you weren’t exactly a stranger to bad behavior, you were far from a goody two-shoes. But damaging someone’s vehicle was a different story entirely, a different level of rebelliousness, and the thought caused your heart to jump with anxiety, as much as it also amused you.

Taking your lack of response as an answer, Eddie nodded simply, turning his eyes back to the road, “We’ll go.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you reached over and grabbed his forearm, “Wait.” So, Eddie looked at you again, a slight mischievous glint in his eyes, something daring about his expression. You took a deep breath, mustering up your courage as you held his stare; despite the bubble of fear in your chest, you attempted to grin, “Let’s say hi.”

“Atta girl.” The smile that spread across Eddie’s lips was wicked yet endearing, his eyes shining with an excitement that you hadn’t seen before. Your nerves grew even as you felt your neck get warm. Eddie reached over and began digging around in the glove compartment in front of you, brandishing a butterfly knife after a few moments, “Which car?”

The ease with which he revealed the knife and asked the question was almost surprising - again, you were reminded that Eddie wasn’t always just a sweet and funny nerd, he was still a guy with a bit of a record. You began to look across the darkened parking lot, furrowing your brow in search of the familiar, flashy silver of Duncan’s coupe; your heart drummed heavily in your chest even as you tried to shove down your anxieties.

As you searched, Eddie pulled the van into one of the furthest possible spots from the school, haphazardly over the lines so the vehicle was angled for a quick getaway. God, this was stupid - you were practically praying for this to go well, hoping you two weren’t caught.

“He’s parked right near the gym.” You groaned in annoyance. Of course Duncan’s car was there, he probably arrived early to help set up for the dance. You met Eddie’s eyes with trepidation, to which he gave you a reassuring smile.

“You can still chicken out, if you want.” His words were taunting, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes - he wouldn’t judge you for backing out.

Again, you ignored your nerves as you attempted to smirk back at Eddie; if you didn’t focus too hard on what you were about to do, it would be so much easier to just do it. God, you wished you two had had a little more to drink before deciding to do this, “I can’t back out, you’d never let me live it down.”

“Then let’s go get ‘em.” Eddie encouraged while shutting off the engine, climbing out of the van quickly and spinning back around to give you an insistent look. It was now or never, so before you could overthink it, you jumped out of the van and quickly made your way to Eddie’s side. He promptly began a brisk walk towards the gym, so you followed close behind, your adrenaline kicking in the closer you got to Duncan’s car.

Once there, you two crouched, forcing you to fuss with your skirt again - god, this really wasn’t the right outfit for this kind of shit. Eddie pulled the knife from his pocket and flicked it open with a well-practiced flourish, to which you grinned in amusement.

“Show off.” You whispered, although it almost seemed silly to keep your voice low, considering no one was around. Just to rub it in, Eddie began to flip the knife around, the blade moving quick enough that you couldn’t quite see how he was managing it.

“Don’t sound so jealous.” He teased before carefully grabbing the blade, holding the knife out towards you. You grabbed the handle, testing the weight while finding the best grip, “You know how to use that?”

You scoffed, looking around yourself again cautiously, “You know I don’t.”

Eddie smirked before pointing at the nearest tire, shuffling closer to you, “Come on, lemme show you.”

He set a hand on your shoulder, gently moving your body until you were at what must have been the best angle for slashing tires. Now, your back was to Eddie, and he came up close behind you just like he had back at the arcade; your cheeks flushed a little, as somehow this felt even more intimate than that. Because you were both haunched low to the ground, Eddie had to spread his knees to fit around you, practically engulfing you. You could feel his chest almost on your back, his breath brushing your ear, as he set his hand atop yours that was holding the blade. His fingers gripped yours comfortably as he began explaining in a low voice.

“It’ll take more force than you think.” He began to guide your hand, using the tip of the blade to point at different spots on the tire, “It’s not a balloon, okay. You wanna puncture near the rim, not the center - it’s thinner and impossible to fix. Don’t get too close, and be quick about it.”

As if reconsidering his own instructions, Eddie brought his hand down from your shoulder to rest on your hip, shuffling the both of you back a few extra inches. Your body jolted, hairs raising at the touch, which caused you to furrow your brow and pull yourself together - the hell was that about?

“You ready?” Eddie asked while quickly looking around one more time to make sure no one could see you two. You nodded, and so once he was repositioned, Eddie gripped your hand a little tighter and rapidly slashed the tire in one clean stroke. Although you were startled by the impact, the tire didn’t make nearly as much noise as you had anticipated - he was right, this was nothing like a balloon.

An eager, wicked smile graced your lips as you turned your head to look at Eddie, and this time - unlike the arcade - you did, in fact, bump foreheads. But both of you were far too excited to care, quickly laughing it off before Eddie pulled you towards the next tire. He removed his hands from you once he had you in position, clearly setting you free to do the damage yourself.

“Don’t slash all four - three means no insurance, he’ll have to pay outta pocket.”

You nervously look between Eddie and the tire, unsure if you could do this on your own. But, god, you were eager to do more damage, your excitement and adrenaline continuing to grow; there was something so incredibly therapeutic and freeing about exacting your revenge on Duncan this way.

So, you firmly set your jaw, which was challenging considering the desperate temptation to keep grinning like a Cheshire cat. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you aimed the blade in the same way that Eddie had, not allowing yourself too much time to think as you slashed quickly.

To your surprise, you managed to cut the tire quite effectively, hearing the air spew out in the same way that it had on the first go. You turned to smile eagerly at Eddie again, who looked far too proud of you. After a moment, he waved his hand to hurry you onto the final tire, which you promptly approached, repeating the same motion one final time.

You nearly laughed with how giddy you were, but before you could even begin to celebrate your victory, Eddie pulled you up to your feet, forcing you to run back to the van hand-in-hand. Neither of you said a word to each other until you were safely in your seats, Eddie quickly zipping out of the parking lot as you shared a near maniacal laugh. The sound of each other’s excitement was far too encouraging, causing the laughter to progressively get more and more wild until you finally had to take a breath and calm down.

“Jesus, how are you better at slashing tires than you are at a round of Donkey Kong?” You smiled from ear to ear as Eddie laughed again, enjoying just how exhilarated he sounded. So, he was thinking about the arcade, too?

You continued to laugh rather than give him a response, unable to contain your glee at the crazy thing that you’d just done. With your energy spiked, you quickly chugged down the remainder of your drink before caving in and grabbing a beer for yourself.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Once you were on the road winding around Lovers’ Lake, you couldn't help but laugh, shooting Eddie a suggestive grin, “What, trying to get frisky or something? What are we doing here?”

He shot you a look from the corner of his eye while finishing off his second beer, tossing the empty bottle thoughtlessly to the floor, “This is where Rick lives.”

“No shit?” You blew air between your lips, clearly not believing that a 20-something drug dealer could afford a house in this neighborhood.

“No, I’m just lying, we’re actually at Lovers’ Lake for a big old orgy.” Eddie teased with a scheming look, although a wide smile broke out across his lips a moment later. Refusing to be out done, you put on a faux look of consideration, finishing your own drink as well.

“Oh, now that’s much better than a school dance.” The two of you grinned conspiratorially as Eddie finally pulled into a driveway crowded with cars.

As you looked up to study the house through the windshield, Eddie grabbed the opened case of beer and stepped out of the van, coming around to your side and opening the door. You accepted his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead you through the cluster of cars and up to the front door. Before you were even on the front porch, the smell of weed hit you as if there was a joint in your own hand, the loud music vibrating the windows of the house.

Eddie let you both in without knocking, the haze of smoke even heavier than you anticipated as you were greeted by a chorus of “hellos.” You tried your best to hold in a cough as smoke got in your eyes, Eddie’s fingers gripping yours a touch tighter as he tugged you past unfamiliar faces and towards the kitchen. As you let yourself be pulled along, you spotted Eddie’s bandmates clustered together on one of the couches, talking animatedly about something as if the party wasn’t happening around them.

In the kitchen, Eddie set the case of beer alongside a variety of other alcohol, continuing to pull you behind him as he looked over all the options available. He picked one up and held it out to you, raising his brow as if to ask if it was something you’d drink. You accepted it with a faint grin, not at all concerned with what the beverage actually was.

“Trying to get me drunk, Munson?” You teased, your eyes drifting towards a group of people that just entered the kitchen. Unconsciously, you must have made a face, because Eddie pulled you a step closer to him with a reassuring laugh.

“Just making sure you have fun tonight.” He grabbed another beer for himself before ducking his head close to yours, “And I wanna see if you get violent like you did at the bar.”

“Hey, that was self defense!” You stole your hand back so you could crack open your can, leaning back against the counter as you took a swig, “Unless someone here starts acting up, I won’t be hitting anyone.”

Eddie smirked, “Well, with this bunch…”

You gave him a warning glare, “If anyone touches me, I swear to god--”

With a chuckle, Eddie set a soothing hand on your shoulder, “Calm down, princess, you’ve got nothing to worry about tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You better be telling the truth.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” His deep brown eyes were serious, his stare practically burning into you. There was something about it that made you nervous the longer you stared back, so you took a quick drink to pull yourself together.

“Just to everyone else, right?” You smirked a little, hoping that you played off your nerves well enough. God, you didn’t know what was with you tonight. Eddie mirrored your expression, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes; he looked you up and down for a brief moment.

“Just everyone else.” He repeated before grabbing your hand again and dragging you back towards the crowded living room. It was almost instant the way his energy changed into something even more high energy once you two were surrounded by more people, and as you approached his friends, you looked around at everyone else, trying to get a better sense of the crowd here.

Aside from your group, all the other partygoers looked to be in their 20s, hell, maybe even 30s, and it felt odd to be amidst so many strangers rather than peers. After you met eyes with one guy, he looked at your legs in a lewd way that you didn’t appreciate, so you glowered back with a threatening glare, pressing closer to Eddie. Another couple people greeted Eddie with recognition, but he didn’t bother introducing them to you - he knew you well enough by now to recognize that you weren’t quite ready to socialize. Considering how weak your first two drinks were, you needed at least one or two more before you were even interested in meeting any new people.

Spotting you and Eddie, the boys attempted to make some room on the couch, but you waved it off dismissively, preferring to stand for the time being. Thoughtlessly, you tucked yourself into Eddie’s side a little, feeling him glance curiously at you in response.

With their fearless leader now present, the group began an excited discussion about Dungeons and Dragons, but the subject was lost on you within less than a minute. You resigned yourself to drinking and people watching, tuning out the conversation as your eyes traveled around the room. In one cluster of people a blunt was being passed around; off in the corner, a couple was haphazardly making out; back in the kitchen, the group of boys from earlier were snorting something that definitely wasn’t flour.

This was just like all the other parties you’d been to through the years, the only difference being that you weren’t familiar with this crowd in the slightest. No, you were used to parties where you knew most of the faces, parties in fancy mansions or summer homes, parties where you were still top of the food chain. Here, you meant nothing to most of these people, and they meant nothing to you, which provided its own odd sense of comfort. Although you were still tense thanks to this new environment, you allowed your shoulders to relax a little.

“What do you mean the Thing is a remake?” Eddie asked next to you, causing you to quickly whip around and join the conversation. You gave him a stunned look, crossing your arms judgmentally but carefully so as not to spill your drink.

“Everyone knows that.” You respond as if offended that he wasn’t aware, drawing the group’s attention to you in surprise.

“I didn’t.” Jeff admitted, to which you made a stunned face. The group had a few new additions to it since you last paid attention, and practically everyone appeared to be surprised by what you said. You rolled your eyes with a sigh.

“I mean, it may as well be an original considering how kitschy the old movie is.” You started, taking a large sip of your drink, “I bet none of you knew it was a book, either.”

As they all shook their heads, you made an exasperated motion with your hands, turning to Eddie for his reaction. But you were surprised to see the amusement on his face, which made you quickly realize that he brought up a horror movie on purpose. You smacked his chest while fighting back a grin, causing him to laugh.

“You set me up!”

“They didn’t believe you were a horror fan!” He defended himself, pointing at the group to shift the blame. They all looked perhaps a little nervous, as if you might turn your attitude on them, “Ask her about Michael Myers, she’s got lots of opinions about him.”

You tried to insist that they don’t get you going on the subject, as if your love of horror was some dirty little secret to be kept. But the intrigued looks on their faces gave you brief pause; once Gareth asked you a question about the rest of John Carpenter’s work, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut.

So, the horror debate began, everyone chiming in on the quality of Season of the Witch or the scares in the Fog. The night went on much this way, everyone talking and drinking, arguing and laughing. Eventually, someone had brought the group a joint, and at that point you were already drunk, so you definitely smoked far more than you should have.

A little later in the evening, Rick announced that he had a bonfire going outside, and so you were dragged out by Eddie, who apparently couldn’t resist a good fire. Some of the partygoers took to jumping in the lake, with or without swimsuits, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at the disgusted look you gave some of the nude swimmers.

“I’m gonna puke.” You joked, although Eddie momentarily believed you, trying to pull you to your feet so he could help you to the bathroom or behind a bush. This sent you into a fit of laughter, teasing him about being such a good boyfriend; were you getting drunk enough that you were becoming unclear, or had Eddie become drunk enough that he couldn’t pick up on your sarcasm?

As the night wore on, partygoers began to slowly disperse, some heading out while others chose to return to the house. The water must have been feeling colder, because everyone had stopped going in after a while. Eddie had attentively gotten the both of you drink after drink, doing so at a steady enough pace that you didn’t realize how drunk you were until it was too late; and once you were drunk, you could never say no to getting even drunker.

At some point, Jeff let you both know he was taking the other guys home, which led to you grabbing Eddie’s wrist so you could check the time, realizing that somehow it was already well past midnight. When Eddie asked if you were ready to go, too, your quick and aggressive “no” amused him far more than it normally would have. Clearly, you were both drunk.

You couldn’t remember when you had dragged Eddie to his feet and insisted he walk with you, but evidently you had, because he laughed again when you accused him of it instead.

“We could probably use a walk, I need to sober up.” Eddie added after explaining that this late night trek was your idea, “Gotta get us home somehow.”

You two followed a path along the lake, stumbling and tripping into each other thanks to the dark and your drunken strides. You were tempted to grab Eddie to keep yourself steady, but you refrained from doing so.

“I don’t wanna go home.” You slurred with a childish tone, hearing a slight laugh from Eddie, “Not like they want me there, anyway.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie turn to give you a look, “That can’t be true.”

Now, you shot him a look, although it was dark enough that you couldn’t quite make out his features. You shook your head, “You haven’t met my parents.”

“So?” You saw him shrug then stumble over a branch a moment later, “If they really didn’t want you there, you’d know. Speaking from experience.”

You gasped smally in realization - god, you were such a bitch, complaining about your parents when you didn’t even know Eddie’s own situation. Maybe he was lucky you were drunk right now, because the instant guilt you felt wasn’t common for you.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” You reached out for his hand and gave it a small squeeze, “You must think I’m the worst.”

He hummed a little before tugging you into his side, comfortably resting his arm over your shoulder despite the fact that no one was around to see you together.

“I didn’t think you were capable of apologizing.” You could hear the grin in his voice, “You’re allowed to complain about your parents, I don’t mind. It's been so long since I’ve seen mine that they never cross my mind.”

You sighed deeply, still feeling guilty. Tentatively, you snaked your arm around Eddie’s middle so that it wouldn’t be awkwardly hanging between you two, “Still, I shouldn’t bitch about mine when yours aren’t around.”

You felt Eddie shrug, “I’ve got Wayne, I don’t need them.”

A small smile graced your lips, and so you looked back up at Eddie again, actually able to make out his features now that you were close enough. He, too, had an easy, drunken smile on his lips, and for whatever reason you couldn’t help but stare, enjoying how he looked in the moonlight. You took in the slight bounce of his curls, the way his lashes shined in the pale light, the way his smile flattered his lips. You had to force yourself to look away, and briefly two thoughts were competing in your mind: Eddie was good looking, in his own way, and there was no reason for you to find his looks appealing.

As your gaze trailed across the rippling lake, you thoughtlessly, drunkenly blurted out, “I think my dad’s having an affair.”

Eddie whipped his head to level you with a surprised look - was he taken aback by the statement itself or the all too casual way in which you said it? You glanced up at him again, briefly shrugging as if what you said was perfectly normal. When Eddie raised his brows - a silent request that you elaborate - you jutted your lower lip in brief consideration.

“Let’s turn around, I want another drink.” You dipped out from under Eddie’s arm, spinning around to head back in the direction of Rick’s house. Eddie followed suit.

“You trying to distract me or yourself?” He questioned, sticking his hands in his pockets. You shot him a slight glare, tripping over a rock in the process. Before you could go crashing down to the ground like an idiot, Eddie helped steady you, wrapping his arm around you again in hopes that it would keep you from falling on your face. Your cheeks were already warm thanks to the alcohol, but now they were burning with embarrassment as you glowered at the path in front of you.

The walk back to the house was silent, Eddie sitting you down by the slowly dying bonfire before he ran inside. Only a small group still lingered by the burning embers, so engrossed in whatever they were doing that they didn’t spare you a second glance. You stared into the flames thoughtlessly until Eddie returned, offering you a bottle that you happily accepted.

“So,” Eddie sat next to you on the small bench, bumping your knee with his, “You think your dad’s cheating?”

You rolled your eyes as you took a large swig; your smile was unamused as you met his gaze, shaking your head, “We’re not gonna talk about it, Eddie.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, mulling something over with those glossy, drunken eyes for a few moments, “I like that you’re using my name now.”

You made a bit of a face before realizing he was right - you had been using his first name nearly all night, weirdly enough, “Huh… I didn’t notice.”

He grinned, looking you up and down fondly, “Guess that means you like me, doesn’t it?”

You smiled humorously, “Well, yeah, we already talked about that, like, a week ago.”

Eddie studied your face for just a moment, “So… we’re friends?”

Your expression brightened as you leaned your shoulder against his, “Yeah, we also established that.”

You took another drink, absentmindedly fussing with a loose thread on Eddie’s frayed jeans while your eyes studied the fire again. On the other side of the circle, the group of strangers rose to their feet and returned to the house, still seeming entirely unaware of you or Eddie. You watched them go, hearing the brief sound of music drifting towards you as they opened the back door; your gaze drifted to Eddie’s hands, watching as he fidgeted with one of his rings. You realized that his foot was bouncing a little, and you paused the hand that had been toying with the fabric of his pants. You furrowed your brow - was he nervous about something?

Wordlessly, you put your drink in Eddie’s hand, prompting him to look at you again, “I have to drive us, remember?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Didn’t Rick say anyone who needed to stay the night can? I don’t wanna be drunker than you tonight.”

“Too late.” Eddie teased, but nonetheless took a quick sip, “You’re a lightweight, princess, you’ll always be drunker than me.”

You grinned, “Whatever, so long as you’re drunk, too, right?”

“If I drink, will you talk to me about your dad?” You groaned at his insistence, taking the bottle back from him.

“Why do you care so much about that?”

Eddie shrugged, “You don’t talk a lot about personal stuff; you threw that out there and then tried to act like it wasn’t anything. Call it curiosity.”

You leaned towards Eddie a little, “Talking about personal stuff leads to pity or guilt or… something. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me, most of all you.”

Eddie nodded in understanding, turning his face towards the flames. Again, you caught yourself studying him, the shine of his eyes, the shape of his nose; the way the firelight danced on his face was damn flattering.

“A question for a question, then, does that seem fair?” He looked back towards you, recalling your first ‘date’ with one another.

An eager grin crossed your face, “Answer the question or take a shot?”

Eddie, too, smiled at the suggestion, even as he shook his head at your insistence to keep drinking, “Fine, but I’m limiting your shots, otherwise you won’t answer a damn thing.”

He stood before also pulling you to your feet, guiding the both of you up to the back porch. Once you were seated, Eddie ran back inside again, and you watched through the window as he grabbed a new bottle of booze and maneuvered around other party guests in search of a shot glass. He returned a minute later, sitting close to you.

“You first.” Eddie offered while carefully trying to pour the first shot. Nonetheless, he still managed to spill a few small drops on your knee, which you brushed away with the side of your hand, too drunk to care about how sticky your skin felt.

You hummed in consideration, “Seeing as you’re so curious about my parents, where are yours?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m only answering if you promise to actually explain yourself when I ask my question.”

“That’s not how this game works.”

“You’re avoidant, it wouldn’t be fair if I poured my heart out for nothing.” He taunted with a challenging look in his eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed, to which he grinned largely.

“Thank you, is that so hard?” You glared smally, but Eddie was unphased as he playfully nudged you, “I don’t want you to pity me, either, okay? I’ve worked through this shit already. Mom died when I was… I dunno, three? Four? It’s been long enough that I don’t remember her at all. Dad ran off a couple years after that and left me with Wayne.”

You stared at each other for a few long moments, your eyes soft as you tried to imagine little Eddie dealing with that shit at such a young age. His brows went up as if to remind you not to feel sorry for him, so you nodded; he assessed you for a second longer.

“So, why do you think your dad’s cheating?”

“‘Why’ as in what's his reason or ‘why’ as in what’s my proof?”

Eddie sighed deeply, trying his very best not to smile at you, “Both, you smart ass.”

You couldn’t help but grin cheekily at his reaction, taking a moment to consider your answer. As you did, you once again found your hand on Eddie’s leg, fussing with the rip at the knee.

“He’s never around. Always says he’s working late or meeting a business partner or spending the weekend with friends. Doesn’t even spend time with my mom anymore. Honestly, I don’t think they ever had a good relationship - I think he just liked mom ‘cause she was pretty… And the lipstick I saw on his collar was a shade my mom would never wear…”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the response, grateful that you actually gave him an honest, straight answer. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be taking shots, you still took a large drink from the bottle in your hand. You didn’t want to linger on your family, so you moved on quickly.

“You ever had a real girlfriend before?”

“Only fake ones.” His quick response made you roll your eyes as you nudged him with your elbow. You then comfortably rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder, keeping your face turned up to watch his, causing him to laugh nervously, “No, um… there was one - hell, two - chicks that were almost something, but no.”

“That’s surprising.” Eddie’s brow shot up curiously, so you shrugged simply, “I just figured weird girls would be into you.”

It was clear on his face that Eddie wasn’t sure whether or not to take that as a compliment, “Only weird girls?”

You gaped at him for a moment as you tried to find the proper explanation, as much as drunk you just wanted to blurt out whatever came to mind first, “I just mean… you’re nice, you’re attentive, you’re attractive. You seem like the kinda guy who would make any normal girl… happy.”

Eddie’s expression stayed twisted in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were - and weren’t - saying, his cheeks tinged with pink, “And what do you consider a normal girl? Not a… popular chick? Or a princess like you?”

His question was pointed, flustering you, so you quickly sat back up and shrugged with something of a defensive face; you did not want to get into a drunken debate with him right now, “I don’t know, Eddie. Just… a girl.”

Eddie stared at you a moment longer, but soon shook his head and attempted to move away from the subject, his eyes conveying something that you couldn’t make sense of right now, “Do you miss any of your exes?”

You immediately laughed, unable to contain your amusement at the question, all too happy to forget the brief moment of awkwardness between you two. Eddie couldn’t help but grin along with you, “Hell no. They never even lasted long enough for me to think I loved them, how could I miss them?”

“You never loved any of them?” Eddie seemed surprised, so you shook your head, “Were there any you… almost loved?”

“Hmm, you’ll have to wait, it’s my turn to ask the question.” You responded cheekily. You barely considered what you wanted to ask next before grinning, “So, no girlfriends, but you’ve had sex, right?”

Eddie’s expression faltered a little, much to your surprise. For a moment, you stared at each other, Eddie in consideration and you in anticipation. You couldn’t help your surprise when he opted to down the shot just a moment later - you hadn’t thought that there’d possibly be a question that Eddie wouldn’t answer, you saw him almost as an open book in many ways.

Did that mean he hadn’t had sex? Or is it just something he didn’t want to discuss with you? Maybe the story was embarrassing or painful? Suddenly, you were all too curious about why Eddie wouldn’t answer, but you had to refrain from pushing the subject, else you two might get into a spat.

And so, your game continued, the two of you answering questions and taking shots, getting into the occasional debate about a stupid inquiry or a thoughtless comment. You eventually abandoned the game aspect and simply returned to talking, absorbed in conversation and finally slowing down your drinking. You stopped keeping track of just how much you both had a while ago, your blurry vision and slurring voice more than enough to convince you that you were drunk off your ass.

It had gotten so late that you both realized at some point the music had stopped playing inside, that the lights had been mostly turned off, that drunken conversation was no longer occurring from anywhere around you. You tried looking at Eddie’s wrist watch again, but it was pretty much impossible for you to actually see the time - needless to say, that was your cue that you two needed to call it a night.

So, you stood, balancing yourself with your hands on Eddie’s shoulders as your head spun, which made you giggle a little. Eddie waited to rise to his feet until you looked steady, slowly standing and keeping his hands on you to ensure neither of you went toppling to the ground. You continued to laugh as you stared at each other for a few long moments until Eddie finally began to guide you into the house.

Once inside, you whispered that you needed to use the restroom, so Eddie led you there, trying to look around the house and find a place for you to sleep as he waited. When you exited the bathroom, he wasn’t there to help you stumble your way through the mostly dark house, so with a pout you looked around yourself, poking your head into the other doors around you to see if there were any free beds to crash in.

“Eddie,” You drunkenly whined, walking back down the hall in his direction. He held a finger to his lips, instructing you to be quiet and not wake the others. Once you reached him, you delicately grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper, “All the beds are taken.”

Eddie sighed to himself while looking around at all the partygoers sleeping in various spots of the living room. He didn’t know how late (or early) it was, but he could tell you were growing exhausted, the booze and weed finally catching up to you. He was tired as all hell, too, but unfortunately you two were beaten to all the comfy places to rest, too caught up in conversation to realize that the party had ended a while ago.

Eddie met your tired eyes thoughtfully, taking you in. In his own drunken state, he was nearly distracted by your pretty features; he’d always known you were pretty, it was damn obvious, but usually he was able to keep it from distracting him. As you two stood close together, illuminated by only the kitchen light streaming into the room, his stomach flipped at the arch of your brow, the curve of your nose, the pout of your lips. Eddie had to shake away the distraction of you and focus.

He put his hand on top of yours - the one that still held his arm - as he whispered, “Come on, I can make room in the van.”

Eddie began to lead you from the house, scooping up an extra couple pillows and blankets that were scattered about the living room as you trekked through it. You let yourself be pulled along without question, helping Eddie with the pillows before you tip-toed out the door.

The air was brisk by the lake, causing you to inhale sharply at the unexpected temperature - god, the van was going to be freezing, wasn’t it?

As Eddie threw open the back doors and began shifting things around the bed of the van, you watched him absentmindedly, drunkenly humming some nonsensical tune to yourself. You couldn’t see the way Eddie grinned at the sound. Of course, he already knew you were a lightweight, but considering how well you paced yourself tonight, he hadn’t noticed just how drunk you’d gotten. All the niceties and relaxing of your shoulders should’ve been a dead giveaway, but he was too caught up in those moments to think about it.

Once he finally made the back of the van as cozy as he possibly could, Eddie spun around and presented it to you as if it were a god damn chariot. You giggled smally.

“All yours, princess.” He stepped aside to let you climb in, so you sat and began to remove your shoes.

An inquisitive look furrowed your brows, “You’re staying with me, right?” Eddie shrugged simply, and momentarily your tone grew a little stronger, “I am not sleeping in this van alone.”

“What, you scared?” You narrowed your eyes at Eddie before he looked past you and at the cramped bed of the vehicle, “You know it’s gonna be a tight fit.”

An abrupt laugh escaped your mouth, and as Eddie looked at you in surprise, you raised your brow suggestively before returning your attention to your shoes. Sure, he’d heard you make sexual jokes often enough before, so he shouldn’t be surprised; maybe it was how you laughed, or maybe he was just too drunk. Either way, he felt the back of his neck grow warm.

You set your shoes aside before looking back up at Eddie, pulling your stiff jacket off your shoulders. You looked as if you’d already forgotten the silly little exchange you just had.

“Come on, Eddie, I can see you’re tired.” You got up on your knees and shuffled across the back of the van, setting your belongings in the front seat. You spun back around to face Eddie, sitting cross-legged despite the fact that you were wearing a skirt; you figured it was much too dark for Eddie to see anything anyway.

With a sigh, Eddie tugged off his own vest and jacket, ignoring the way you sat before him - he was pretty wiped now that you mentioned it. So, you’d sleep next to each other? You two had already done that before. You were both drunk and cold and tired, after all, so what could possibly go wrong?

Eddie crawled into the van and shut the doors behind him, leaving the two of you in near darkness. He shuffled towards the front of the van as well, bumping into your shoulder in the process and making you giggle. He felt a quick surge of warmth at the sound, but quickly tried to shake off the feeling.

Eddied added his things to the front seat, his shoes and jacket joining yours before he began fussing with the blankets, attempting not to bump you again. As you both tried to settle in and get comfortable, it became clear the van was going to be a little cramped considering that you two were trying to fit between junk and old equipment that was pushed as far to the side as they’d go. You kept brushing elbows or knocking knees, which kept making you drunkenly giggle, until finally you were both settled into some semblance of a comfortable position.

“Eddie…” You whispered, rolling on your side to face him; he had his back to you as if to maintain some propriety, much like your sleepover last week. He sighed before shuffling around once again to face you, nearly taken aback but just how close you actually were. Was there actually that little space or were you closer than you needed to be?

“Yes?” He whispered back, although he realized there was no need for either of you to be so quiet. The corner of his mouth pulled up in amusement.

Your eyes had adjusted well enough to the lack of light in the van, and so you simply stared at Eddie for a few moments, taking in what features you could see. Light from the moon reflected on his hair and vaguely illuminated his eyes, shadows accentuating the planes of his face. You smiled fondly at him. Once again, your drunken mind was realizing Eddie’s good looks while also trying to resist them. He was far more good looking than people, including you, gave him credit for.

You giggled to yourself, feeling warmth in your cheeks, which caused Eddie to give you one of his rascally grins that you were just thinking about. If only he knew you were laughing because of his lovely face.

“Did you need something?” He urged, still waiting for you to actually speak.

“It’s quiet.” You answered simply, causing him to now laugh, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah, because we’re trying to sleep.” He teased, rolling onto his back with a content sigh. You huff to yourself, pushing back the blankets you’d just settled into; Eddie rolled his eyes at how antsy you were all of a sudden Was this yet another drunken habit he’d have to keep track of?

“Can I turn on the radio?” You began to shuffle up towards the front, but Eddie reached out for you blindly, managing to grab your leg; lucky for both of you, it was dark enough that he couldn’t see up your skirt despite this angle.

“No, you’ll kill the battery.”

You huffed, turning your attention back to Eddie, “Cassette player?”

Eddie sighed, “Up front.”

He released your leg, and you crawled into the front of the van, found the player, and crawled back next to him. You set the cassette player on the floor between the front seats and hit play, not at all concerned about what was in the deck; so long as there was something playing, you’d be satisfied.

Eddie smiled as the music started - Dio, the Last in Line. One of his favorite albums, hence why it practically lived in this cassette player. He’d left it on the B-side from the last time he’d played it, and admittedly he was happy to see that you were content to listen to it.

You once again fussed with the blankets and pillows, settling in even closer beside Eddie, who hoped you’d finally relax. It took you a minute, but once you finally seemed to be mellowed out, Eddie closed his eyes, speaking softly, “Night.”

But instead of responding, you propped yourself up on your elbow again thanks to your sporadically firing thoughts, going back to studying his face. Eddie looked at you with a furrowed brow, wondering what the hell was going through your head and where all this energy came from. He had yet to see you act like this, so hyperactive and restless.

With your free hand, you reached towards Eddie impulsively, making him nervous as you ever so lightly brushed your fingertips through the ends of his hair. His eyes widened, nearly shrinking from your touch as you hummed to yourself as if in confirmation of something.

“Are you… okay?” He asked, grabbing your wrist delicately, which caused you to curl your fingers just a little.

“I wanted to know if your hair was soft.” You answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, continuing to fuss with the end of his curls, “I think the shampoo you’re using is too harsh.”

Eddie made a puzzled face, not prepared for that comment. Hell, he wasn’t prepared for any of what’s happened in the past couple minutes. You continued to play with his hair absentmindedly, rocking your head lightly to the music, and Eddie hated to admit that he enjoyed it. He knew that you weren’t aware of what you were doing, you’d proven yourself to be far too drunk for that, but he liked to think that you were enjoying this as well.

“What makes you say that?” Eddie asked gently, realizing he was leaning into your touch just a little. The faintest of laughs escaped you, and you tilted down a little closer to him.

“Your hair seems heavy.” You state simply - obviously that made sense to you, but Eddie still didn’t quite understand. Momentarily, he didn’t worry about you leaning closer because he was trying to understand what you meant by that.

“Heavy?”

“Yeah,” Your voice was bright as you leaned over him, assessing his hair with your hand, “Your product weighs it down.”

Eddie chuckled a little, loosening his grip on your wrist and lightly drawing his finger down your forearm. A content sigh escaped your lips, the feathery touch of his calloused hand sending a shiver up your spine. Your sound made Eddie realize what he was doing, and so he quickly stopped, feeling far too warm - why the hell did he do that? He suddenly grasped that his touch was far too intimate and personal, and although that didn’t seem to bother you right now, it certainly made him pause; he was not quite drunk enough to excuse that.

“Let’s worry about my hair tomorrow.” Eddie instructed while removing his hand from your arm; he needed to relax, he was getting far too worked up by your close proximity and your hooded eyes. He figured you didn’t mean to be so close and personal and touchy with him right now, you were simply drunk.

Despite Eddie’s words, you stayed put, continuing to fuss with his hair and study his face with drunken, unabashed fondness. You looked between his eyes, and only then did you realize just how close you were to him.

As the second track on the cassette started, you considered the look on Eddie’s face - there was something hesitant there, something taken aback. You were very much in his space, but that wasn’t a problem, right?

Well, no, but it was weird for you. Not that you were terribly concerned - you were far too crossfaded to think clearly right now. One second, the small, sober part of your brain wondered what the hell you were doing, but the next second your drunkenness won out and you didn’t give a damn. Right now, you didn’t have a care in the world, all your focus trained solely on Eddie.

You found yourself attempting to hum along to the song that you didn’t recognize - you’d have to ask Eddie what this was later, if you could actually remember it. And your humming caused him to give you that charming smile that you had slowly become fond of. It was different from the playful grins, the mocking smirks, or the laughing smiles you saw regularly - this smile was more intimate, more personal, reserved just for you.

You were so caught up in that sweet smile that you didn’t realize at first that you were leaning in closer. Eddie didn’t seem to notice it either, as if he were hypnotized by the intensity of your gaze, by the softness of your touch and the closeness of your body. The only hint that Eddie was aware of what you were doing was the ever so subtle sigh that left his parted lips, which finally drew your attention away from his eyes.

His lips looked so damn plush, so damn inviting. Have you ever noticed that before? At this moment, it seemed impossible to ignore, so how had you been so unaware of it?

Eddie looked so damn… kissable.

And with all sober thoughts pushed to the wayside, you decided you needed to find out if that theory was true.

You closed the small gap between you two, pressing your lips to Eddie’s with an experimental softness, a tentative longing. A low, surprised moan rumbled in Eddie’s chest as you felt his body go rigid beneath yours; for a brief moment, the kiss was nearly nonexistent, as if Eddie was hesitant to reciprocate. But within nearly the same breath, his fingers traced delicately along your arm again, causing you to shiver as you let out a sound of satisfaction.

Feeling Eddie relax against you, you curled your fingers tighter in his hair, kissing him more firmly and confidently. You lowered your body to rest comfortably in his side, your now free hand cupping the back of his neck as you hooked an ankle over his. Eddie’s lips were soft yet musky, firm yet unfledged; his light stubble tickled your upper lip, a subtle smoky smell clinging to his skin.

Realizing that you were practically holding your breath, you forced yourself to pull away from the kiss, breathing deeply against Eddie’s lips. There was barely any space between you two, breath mingling, chests heaving, lips brushing. You were nearly tempted to pull back further just so you could meet his deep brown eyes, but you didn’t dare move for fear that it would break whatever spell you were under.

You thoughtlessly licked your swollen lower lip, causing the tip of your tongue to graze along Eddie’s lips as well. A surprised groan leapt out of him, your body suddenly feeling taut and flushed in response; god, you wanted him to make that sound again.

You dug your fingers into the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him back towards you, your lips feverish and fierce as they pressed against his. This time, he reciprocated with aching curiosity, his gentle hands desperate as one cradled the back of your head and the other gripped the small of your back; as you pressed yourself flush against Eddie and rolled your hips, it caused the both of you to moan into the kiss.

Your hands cupped Eddie’s jaw excitedly, holding him close as you moved to straddle his waist. Another needy, amorous sound rose in his throat as you rolled your hips again, settling comfortably on top of him as you began to eagerly explore from his neck to his chest to his waist. You twisted his shirt in your fists as if you were afraid he’d pull back, kissing with even more sloppy feverishness.

Your heart pounded frantically in your chest, your body jolting under Eddie’s more tentative touch. The feel of his fingertips was oh-so light as he traced your arms, your spine, your exposed thigh. In response, you hungrily prodded at his lips with your tongue, excited by the low sound in his throat as he opened his mouth to you. You kissed Eddie fiercely as your hands returned to firmly gripping his jaw, keeping him there as if he were the air you breathed.

Continuing to rut slowly against him, a satisfied smile dared to interrupt your kiss as you felt Eddie growing hard beneath your hot center. Teasingly, you pulled your lips away from Eddie’s, his own chasing after yours in a way that made you grin with lustful satisfaction. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing heavily as your nose brushed against his. You slowly, gently dragged your lips across Eddie’s, over his hot cheek and up to his ear; his whole body shuddered beneath you as your breath tickled his skin.

“You’re good at this.” You drunkenly teased, voice low and breathy; you were certain you felt Eddie jolt again as he tried to catch his own breath. You turned to study him, awaiting some smart remark that never came; the look on Eddie’s face suggested he was too far gone to have any quips for you. You smiled again, brushing your lips against his cheek; you were tempted to keep taunting him, but became all too engrossed in watching him to even try.

Eddie’s parted lips were swollen, his breathing heavy as he stared up at the ceiling with a nearly stunned expression, trying to collect himself. His eyes bounced around as if in search of something, his hand unconsciously tracing invisible lines on your arm. You dragged your gaze down his throat - his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously - then to his chest, watching it deeply rise and fall. The smile hadn’t left your face, you realized as you brought your lustful gaze back up to his gentle face.

Eddie’s cheeks were bright red as he finally met your eyes, looking so soft and unsure and questioning as he drank you in. Your grin widened fondly as you simply stared at one another, which encouraged Eddie to smile himself, albeit with some hesitation. Feeling the rapid beating of his heart against you, you slid a hand to rest on his chest, tearing your gaze away from his to watch your fingers brush delicate circles in his shirt.

Drunkenly, you were torn between wanting to relax against Eddie and wanting to go back in for another kiss; hell, you could probably make out with him all night if he’d let you. But even with intoxication clouding your head, you could see in his expression that he could only handle so much of you, that he might burst if you kept teasing him and feeling him and kissing him.

Again, the sober part of you briefly reared her head, desperately trying to make sense of the fact that you just kissed Eddie as if your life depended on it. Thinking about how wild that was, you couldn’t help but giggle, which drew his intense eyes back to yours. You raised a brow as you studied his features yet again, a happy look on your face.

“Our secret?” The words came out of your mouth without you being fully aware of them. Through your drunken haze, you could see the way his expression furrowed at the question, the way his eyes seemed to panic as if he were finally crashing back down to earth.

“‘Our secret?’” He repeated in a confused, gruff tone. You nodded simply, resting your head down beside his, feeling the tickle of his hair on your cheeks. You didn’t catch the way he had to collect himself, how he swallowed hard in disappointment before replying gently, “Yeah, okay…”

If you were sober, you would have seen the upset in his expression, heard the doubt in words. Of course, if you were sober this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. But because you were drunk - both from alcohol and from that kiss - you entirely missed the way Eddie’s energy deflated like a balloon.

Instead, you smiled wide like a drunken fool, sinking into the blankets and pillows beside Eddie with a sense of satisfaction. You kept one hand resting comfortably on his chest, your face nearly in the crook of his neck; you realized how exhausted you were now, the feeling having escaped you while you were absorbed in the sensation of Eddie’s lips against yours.

As a tired fog slowly began to encompass you, Eddie gently set his hand on top of yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. You closed your eyes with a comfortable sigh, letting Eddie’s steady breathing help lull you to sleep.

Just as you were on the brink of consciousness, you felt Eddie’s lips brush against your forehead, his voice low as he gently muttered something that you couldn’t quite make out.

addt. Author's Note | So uuuuuh surprise? 👀In case y'all missed it or were unsure, the song referenced in this chap is Mystery by Dio, which is one of my fav songs by the band and one I've associated with these two idiots for a while! Now, let's all scream and shout about this chapter together, because I'm SO eager to see what y'all think~

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@cosmicdanielle @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie

@damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape

@fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets

@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @rach5ive @rcailleachcola @sav12321

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @sokkasimp101 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts #a fics*

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