#i know the hopes have been dashed completely

[rickybaby]

I know God loves a good redemption story and by god, we'll have it in 2025

[taegularities]

hope you're all liking the epilogue and that you enjoyed the whole series in general. thank you for giving it so much love and support. can't wait to share more 🤍

[ultraqueer]

someone please bonk me over the head so I forget everything abt taz balance I would like to go back to my first listen but without the traumatic high school experience please

[gayboyrocklee]

See I bring stuff up and it’s like “ohhh someone to replace King/finally someone else” bc I do still talk abt King a lot and like I don’t think you get it it’s like this random guy I do not know much about is not going to eclipse my first serious relationship. Nothing ever will replace it, bc it’s one of a kind or smth. It was hellish. It was the happiest I ever was. It’s a duality. It was a mess of being sixteen. There’s never going to be anything like that again. That’s such a relief to know. It’s terrifying thinking about the unknowns after bc at least it was familiar. Idk. I also think King had a very unique position in my life and it was definitely an in the moment thing and it’s kinda stupid to think that someone will ever be able to Be That. Someone will be smth different one day, someone else who makes me say “I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you”. I won’t love them like I loved King, it’ll be different (and hopefully less sixteen!!!). I don’t think it’ll ever be the same bc it’d be boring if we loved everyone the same. The intense emotion is gonna kill me early but idk. I feel alive rn.

[hederasgarden]

Preview: On the Horizon

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.

Paring: Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader)

Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, smut, flirting and asshole!Scott A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary. Hoping to have this fic out next weekend!

You brush the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you long for the cool labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology wasn't even your field; you were here for your engineering expertise to handle the specialized equipment the team needed to gather their data.

From your vantage point on the tailgate of the truck, you observe the other storm chasers gather around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual from the brief interactions you've observed.

"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.

When you look up again Tyler's gaze falls on you. He grins and winks, pulling down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.

You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he'd been quick to dash those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team.

Clearing your throat, his eyes briefly land on you before returning to the screen in front of him. "What?" he demands.

"Oh. I was going to get something to eat. Do you want something?”

"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively. When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station.

The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air.

"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?” He questions, amused. 

"What?"

"Your boss," he clarifies. 

"Oh, he's um... he's not my boss. Javi is."

"No?" he questions, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."

Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.

"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.

You stare at him, unsure how to respond to his comment or the flirty tone. Before today you’d hardly spoken, he mostly interacted with Javi or Scott.  You’re saved from answering when the bell on the door jingles and someone calls your name. 

It’s Scott. 

"Owens," he bites out, surprising you when he rests a hand on your shoulder and stands close enough that you feel his shirt brush your arm. Your lips part and your lashes flutter in response. 

Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile.  "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."

"What did he want?" Scott demands, move to stand in front of you after Tyler’s gone.

"Oh, nothing. Just... saying hi."

Scott's jaw tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.

When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his dark brown eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. When you turn back around your suspicions are confirmed. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you have Scott’s full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.

You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.

Part 1 is now out!

[caelesjjk]

entangled - jjk&kth - part two

⟶title: entangled ⟶pairing: spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader ⟶au: marvel au ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle ⟶ wc: 9k ⟶ warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, more infidelity type things, reader is confused af, two smut scenes because we take what they wanna give us: unprotected sex (don’t do this tho), dirty talk, kissing, fingering, couple position switches, it’s all pretty lovey dovey ⟶ summary: Kim Taehyung is Venom. A huge, terrifying symbiote monster that’s bonded with him and made a deal for a common goal. You don’t know what you’re doing. Your feelings are mixed and frazzled and confused. But you may not have the time to sort them out just yet if you can’t keep the two people you care about most from killing each other first. ⟶ authors note: hello darklings. You’ve all waited way too long for me to get this second part together and for that I apologize. I hope this makes up for the wait. The third and final part that follows this will be a bit of a wait too while I work on another fic, but I promise it will come. Big endless shoutout to @sailoryooons for listening to me whine about this for months and for beta reading the mess that it became. Also shouts to @tea4sykes for reading before it was even done to reassure me it was flowing okay. I love you guys.

Part One (if you missed it)

playlist if you want it: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5cg79N5KQBmZ9fOCtyD3A7?si=cQlAtRT7Roat33E60rzKtQ&pi=u-lMIH9SpZSD6X

You needed to run.

Everything was happening too quickly, your head couldn’t catch up with your feet that were scrambling across the floor in every direction trying to escape the monster Taehyung had just turned into. He had you completely trapped with nowhere to go.

Not to mention you were mostly naked with only a thin sheet barely clinging around you.

“Stop! Leave me alone! Please!” You beg and scream as it cuts you off again when you make a dash for the stairs.

“No. Leaving.” Venom roars and tries to make a move towards you, but stops when you accidentally back into the record player Taehyung has sitting on his side table.

The record scratches and squeaks at a high pitch and Venom groans in pain at the sound, his clawed hands grabbing at his head as he stumbles backwards. His black, crawling skin pulls away until you catch glimpses of Taehyung beneath the monster. 

“Run. Please…run,” he begs before Venom consumes him again. But before he can get too far, you push over the record player so that it makes a constant high pitched noise and Venom screams until he falls back against the railing and goes over the edge.

You don’t wait to see anything else. 

Grabbing the ends of the sheet you dash towards the bathroom and shove the door closed behind you, looking around frantically for a way to escape. Immediately your eyes see the fire escape outside the window. 

You see some discarded clothes on the floor and immediately throw on the T-shirt and basketball shorts before using all your strength to shove open the old window that has obviously not been used in years. The old white paint cracks and splinters to the floor as you climb up onto the sill.

A loud bang suddenly sounds from outside the bathroom door. Venom must’ve stopped the record player. 

“Where are you, girl?” You hear his menacing voice travel through the door. 

Your pulse picks up again as you shove yourself the rest of the way out the window and into the pouring rain. The metal of the fire escape creaks and brings an instant chill to your already shaking body. 

Looking back, you see the bathroom door shatter with the force the monster uses to break it open. You can barely hear yourself scream as you throw your weight onto the top of the window and close it behind you. You don’t look back again as you sprint down the stairs of the fire escape, but the sound of Venom crashing through the glass makes you move faster. 

Bricks from the warehouse crunch beneath his claws and feet, causing pieces to crumble and rain down over your head. As soon as your bare feet hit the pavement, you make a mad dash past the docks and towards the main road.

The rain pelts against your face as the clouds continue to block the sun that should be starting to come up now. There is barely any light for you to see where you are going while the world is still wrapped in a navy blue hue.

You can see headlights up ahead. Cars. People. A way out.

“Not so fast.” Venom suddenly drops in front of you, making you stumble and fall to your back against the cobblestones. Your elbows scrape across the ground as you try to move away but he’s too big and too fast.

“Please…just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you. I swear.” You press flat to the ground as Venom looms over you, his face slowly maneuvering downwards until your nose almost touches him.

“We…want to keep you. Protect you.” 

“You’re scaring me, Taehyung. How can you say you want to protect me?” The crawling, black skin of Venom’s face peels away to reveal Taehyung once more.

“You’re in the middle of something that you shouldn’t be,” Taehyung says desperately. 

“What does that even mean?” 

“_____, please stay away from Jungkook. He-” Taehyung is cut off when Venom closes the skin back over his face. “He’s here,” he growls, moving to stand over top of you.

Before you can question him again, the bright light of a laser blast shoots past you, barely skimming Venom’s shoulder and blowing chunks of the ground all over you.

When you look back up, the red and gold suit of Ironman comes flying into your view. He tries to fly between you and Venom, but the monster is too fast, back handing Ironman and sending him flying into the side of one of the buildings.

“No!” You yell, trying to get to your feet but you can’t get your footing with all the rubble surrounding you.

“Stay. Back,” Venom whips around to tell you. That distraction is enough for Ironman to come flying back, hitting Venom in the stomach with his shoulder and throwing the two of them about ten feet away.

You don’t want Jin to hurt Taehyung. Venom is the monster. Taehyung is good. He’s gentle and kind. 

Your head hurts so badly and there’s blood dripping down your newly busted lip. You don’t know what you can do but you have to do something. 

Getting to your feet as the rain continues to pour from the thundering clouds overhead, you clamber through the rubble trying to get closer to where Jin has Venom pinned against the side of a dumpster. Just as you approach, Venom hits Jin’s hand away causing the laser blast to go off and almost hit you. You felt the heat of it skim past your face.

“Get out of here, _____! Now!” Jin yells, losing his balance when Venom pushes him off into the side of another building. You fall back on your ass, hitting the wet street once again.

Venom crawls over to you slowly. The sight of it freezing you in place as the slithering skin of his face once again pulls back to reveal Taehyung.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, bending to get closer to you. You can see Jin getting back up out of the corner of your eye.

“Run, Tae. Please just run away and hide. And don’t ever come looking for me again. They’ll kill you.” You touch his cheek and his eyes close. “Please go.”

Just as you take your hand away you hear someone from above you yell your name, your head whipping up at the familiar sound.

Venom’s face consumes Taehyung again as he steps in front of you defensively. Jungkook comes into view, swinging down from a web attached to the nearest warehouse. 

Jungkook moves so quickly you can barely register what’s happening before he’s kicking Venom hard enough to make him roar and fly across the other side of the road.

“Get her out of here, Jungkook!” Jin yells as he comes back into the fight.

“We have him where we want him! I’m not leaving!” Jungkook yells back, shooting a web at one of the big pieces of rubble and flinging it towards Venom.

It shouldn’t hurt to hear him say that.

It shouldn’t sting like a slap across the face when he doesn’t choose you again. But god, does it fucking ever.

“Now!” Jin screams the word at Jungkook, barely holding off Venom, who is scraping and clawing with all his might to get back to you.

Such an anomaly this turned out to be.

Jungkook shoots off a few more webs, catching them on one of Venom’s wrists and sticking to the ground so it’s harder for him to move. And then Jungkook is whirling around and scooping you into his arms.

You wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, looking over his shoulder to watch the fight between Jin and Venom for as long as you can before they’re just dots in the distance as Jungkook swings you back into the city.

You almost start to doze off from exhaustion when you feel the world stop moving and Jungkook standing you on your feet. You almost lose your balance at the loss of him so suddenly.

“What the fuck were you doing out there, ____?” Jungkook asks, his voice loud and full of an anger you’d never heard from him before.

“I…I was just going for a walk…” the lie falls from your mouth before you even have a chance to think about it. “I got lost…”

“How do you always do this? How are you always in the middle of some terrible shit?” Jungkook rips his mask off and throws it across your bedroom against the opposite wall before he starts to pace.

“I’m sorry…” you feel so small as you watch the anger radiate off of him.

“Sorry? You’re sorry? Do you have any idea what you’ve likely cost us tonight?” He comes into your space, backing you into your kitchen counter.

“Jungkook…” 

“Just…stay out of my way, Data.” His shoulders slump when he steps back from you and grabs his mask from the floor. Your body shakes and gives into your exhaustion, your knees hitting the floor as Jungkook bounds off your balcony.

The only light in your apartment is from the barely there sun, casting shadows of your furniture and the plants on the windowsill across the hardwood floor. It’s quiet, too quiet when there’s a busy city 10 floors down.

How could one person make you feel so loved and so alone at the same time? Were you the bad guy? You slept with Taehyung out of spite…didn’t you? That’s how it started at least…now you’re not sure how you feel.

You don’t understand Taehyung, and part of you wants to know more. Why is he allowing Venom to control him and use him? What does he get out of it? All questions you would love to ask him if he wasn’t an absolutely terrifying monster.

A monster that Jungkook could possibly be killing right now. That thought makes you nauseous immediately.

You crawl across the floor until you can press your back against the wall, pulling your knees to your chest and putting your head between them. You needed to block it all out for a moment…or several.

You don’t know how long you have been sitting there or when you fall asleep but eventually you lift your head and squint at the sun trickling in through your windows and balcony doors. A perfectly cool breeze moves your green curtains and gives you goosebumps.

When your back starts to hurt from sitting on the wood floor, you convince yourself to get up to close the door. You know you desperately need a shower as well.

As you reach the balcony door, you see Jungkook sitting on your stone railing, his head in his hands. You want to rush towards him and make sure he’s okay, but you stay put.

“How long have you been out here?” You ask quietly, hand gripping the door handle too tightly.

“A while.” Jungkook mutters, his hands coming up to his hair and pulling at the roots.

“You…you should go home, Jungkook.” You hate the sound of your own voice right now. Weak and scratchy.

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you earlier, Data.” He moves slowly, head coming up as he slides off the railing to stand.

“But you did. And I have a feeling you meant them.”

“No…I just don’t understand why we can’t catch this monster. And when I saw you there, I lost it.” He runs his hand through his mess of black waves.

“Did…did you catch him now?” You swallow thickly, not sure what answer you want to hear.

“No. Jin couldn’t hold him. He’s looking into asking Dr. Kim for help in building a trap.” He looks defeated and the guilt starts to crawl up your throat.

Dr. Kim Namjoon is a scientist that most people would know as the Hulk. He’s a brilliant mind and someone you very much look up to as far as the career path you hope to take one day. It scares you that he might get involved in capturing…or killing Taehyung.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can manage to whisper.

“Data…” He steps closer to you and you flinch a little. “Fuck…fuck I’m so sorry. You were scared and you’re…you’re fucking hurt and all I did was yell at you.” Jungkook stays where he is, but reaches out his hand towards you.

“I don’t…I can’t,” you whimper.

“It’s okay. Let me take care of you, baby. Please.” His hand stays out stretched and you know if you take it that the guilt will continue to eat away at you. That you can never tell him what you know. Because you care about Jungkook…but you care about Taehyung too, and you just hope he runs and doesn’t come back.

You take Jungkook’s hand and he gently steps towards you again until he’s close enough to cup your face in his hands, angling it in different ways to mentally take note of your injuries. He runs his thumb over the bump on your forehead and the cut on your lip that has you wincing. His lips press to your forehead when your arms finally wrap around his middle and fingers grip at his back.

“I’m just making trouble for you, JK.” Your lip trembles when you look up into his eyes, his brows scrunching in confusion.

“We knew when we started that this wasn’t going to be easy. But I…I have a responsibility, Data. And I’m doing my best to do that and keep you safe.” He swipes at your tears and lifts you onto the counter so he can stand between your thighs. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

You believe him. But at what cost? What will happen to him if he continues to worry about you instead of the danger he is so heroically protecting the city…maybe even the world from. He is your best friend and something so much more. 

Your hands slide into his hair, the damp strands sliding through your fingers in the most familiar way. Jungkook's hands stay on your cheeks as he pulls your mouth to his, swallowing the little whimpers that try to escape you.

His lips taste like his favorite minty chapstick and the cinnamon gum he had probably chewed on his way back to your apartment. He always chews it when he needs to think more clearly.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” you whisper between sweet pecks to your lips.

“Angry…maybe. But cruel? No. You mean more to me than that.” His mouth finds your jaw while his hands gently hold your shoulders. “How about a bath?”

Could you really be deserving of these moments with Jungkook when you were enjoying being face down on Taehyung’s bed just a day ago?

Fuck. You were so fucking selfish.

You nod your head ‘yes’, not trusting your voice when guilt is rising up your throat.

Jungkook picks you up from the counter, your arms around his neck and legs around his hips as he carries you towards your tiny apartment bathroom. Stopping once or twice to press your back against the wall and slip his tongue into your mouth. A tongue that you gladly suck between your teeth until he moans your name.

“Get these off.” Jungkook shoves into your bathroom, the space almost too small for you and his broad body. He makes quick but gentle work of your dirt and blood stained clothes, kicking them into the corner of the bathroom.

You help him slide the sleeves of his blue and red suit down his arms, slowly revealing all the beautiful ink tattooed into the skin of his right arm. Your hands follow the dips of muscle of his torso as more skin is revealed from beneath his suit.

After he’s naked and you’ve thoroughly touched as much of his bare body as you can, you slide your ass up onto your tiny marble vanity and open your legs for him to stand between. Jungkook stands back a moment, his eyes roaming and settling between your legs.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? You went through a lot tonight…” You don’t let him finish his sentence, wrapping your fingers around his semi-hard cock so you can stroke him.

“Let’s talk later. Right now I just need to feel you inside me. Remind me why I’m yours…please.” You could feel traitorous tears try to well in your eyes and Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion for a moment.

“Data…” He puts his hand over yours to stop your strokes.

“No. Please…I need you.” You meet his eyes and it only takes him a moment to tighten his hand on yours and help you move your fist up and down his cock again.

Jungkooks head rolls forward, a deep grumble in his chest sending shivers up your spine. He steps closer so his hips can widen your thighs and you can guide his cock to your entrance. You’re so wet that he easily pushes into you, your back arching off the vanity mirror at the stretch.

“You’ve always been my girl, Data.” His tattooed hand grips your hip and steadies you when he begins to shallow thrust, crude wet noises already coming from where your bodies meet. “Your pussy always remembers me so well.”

“Do the other Avengers know how filthy your mouth is?” You whisper, leaning forward to kiss him.

“My filthy mouth is only for you.” Jungkook kisses you back, sheathing himself completely inside you and holding himself there. He moves his swollen lips down your jaw and over your chest until he reaches your nipples, sucking and pulling until you’re a moaning mess.

“Please move, Jungkook.” You inch your ass forward until it’s perched right on the edge of the vanity. Jungkook groans against your breast, lifting his head to look where your bodies meet.

He holds both your hips in his hands as he begins a quick pace. But no matter how fast he pumps his hips against you, he never misses that spot inside you that makes stars dance across your eyelids.

“You feel so good. I don’t think I’m gonna last…” His distressed face meets yours and you reach up to touch his face and pull him closer.

“I’m so close, JK…please make me come.” He kisses you, hard and unyielding while his cock drills you against the mirror. You’re almost afraid it’ll break when he forgets how strong he is. But you don’t care, you want him to break you. You don’t deserve soft and sweet right now.

Jungkook lifts you off the vanity and faster than humanly possible has you on the floor of your hallway right outside your tiny bathroom. He throws your legs over his shoulders and hits a spot inside you that almost immediately has you crying out his name and coming all over his cock. Your pussy clenches around him so hard it makes him whimper above you, bringing him to his own orgasm. He fills you up as warmth spreads all over your body.

“Did I hurt you? I was too rough…” His hands are immediately on your face angling you to look at him.

“No, I’m okay. I promise.” You smile at him, hoping that it feels real. You’re too riddled with guilt.

“Let’s get in the bath.” He pulls out of you slowly, sitting up on his knees while he presses soft kisses to your fingers and palm.

The tub is far too small for the both of you, but it doesn’t matter. Water sloshes out onto the floor each time you move, but that doesn’t matter either. It feels good to have his warmth behind you when you lean back against his chest. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Jungkook asks after a while, his hands rubbing your arms while his lips kiss the top of your head.

You freeze, knowing that you should tell him the truth. That you know who the monster is that he’s searching for. But you can’t bring yourself to put Taehyung in danger. So you lie. Again.

“I went for drinks with friends last night…I got lost walking home. I don’t know how I ended up at the docks. It was so stupid of me…” You hate how easily the lie spilled out.

“You aren’t stupid, Data. You just seem to have a magnet for danger.” He laughs quietly, kissing your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have made you feel like it was your fault.”

“It was my fault. I messed things up for you and Jin,” you sigh, slumping against his wet chest.

“Don’t worry about that. It won’t be much longer before we have the monster.” 

“Have him?” You ask, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“Mr. Kim thinks the monster is a human. An experiment gone wrong. He wants to help him…or study him. As long as it isn’t running free in the city anymore.” Jungkook explains, his hands gathering some soap bubbles from the water and washing your arms and chest with gentle fingers.

“How would he help him?” If Jin can help Taehyung…then maybe he can get rid of Venom.

“I’m not sure. I think we would be better off getting rid of it altogether. It’s a menace.” You feel Jungkook’s muscles tense as he talks and you know you still can't tell him the truth about Venom.

You don’t say anything else, afraid that your voice will shake and give you away. He knows you too well. 

Jungkook makes sure you’re cleaned up and comfortable in bed before he leaves you again. In most cases you would feel hurt that he’s left, but you need time to think without your feelings being clouded by his presence.

What the fuck are you going to do?

Going about your normal day to day life felt wrong. You go to school. You study with your friends. You see Jungkook on occasion, and every time you do, the guilt burrows a little deeper inside you, whittling away at your ability to keep up the facade. 

What makes it worse was that Taehyung hasn’t been at school for two weeks. It makes you absolutely terrified that something has happened to him. That undeniable connection you felt with him makes it difficult not to worry.

Sleep almost completely evades you the last two weeks.

“You look terrible,” Hoseok pokes, sitting a fresh coffee down in front of you on the library study table.

“Charming,” you grumble, snatching the coffee and inhaling its heavenly caffeine-illed scent.

“It’s not even finals season, why aren’t you sleeping? Trouble with the boyfriend perhaps?” Hobi sits his backpack down and plops into the chair next to you.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” You press your forehead to the table and gently hit it against the top a few times. “And I just…my upstairs neighbor has been noisy.” The lies start to come out easier and easier the more you make up.

“I told you to move in with me months ago. Way closer to campus.” He pops some cheese cracker snacks into his mouth.

You know it would be nice to live with Hoseok. Easy. But you can’t. Not with Spider-Man coming and going and a giant monster possibly looking for you now. You could never forgive yourself if something happened to your friend.

“I appreciate that offer, you know I do. I just…like my space.” You sigh, lifting your head to meet his eyes. He probably knows you’re lying, but if he does, he doesn’t let on.

“Offer continues to stand if you change your mind, ___.” The look on his face is serious for a moment before he points the bag of snacks towards you. “Crackers?”

You smile and take a handful, popping them into your mouth as you sit back in your chair and listen to Hoseok talk more about nothing and everything for as long as you can.

After Hobi leaves, you continue to study until you notice the daylight is starting to disappear outside the library windows. You stretch your arms over your head, groaning when your stiff muscles protest before packing up your things to finally head home for the night.

Pulling your phone from your bag, you see there’s been no messages from Jungkook since yesterday afternoon when he said he would stop by as soon as he could. It shouldn’t be disappointing, you should be used to it, but that little pang still makes you feel some type of way.

You sigh, shoving your phone into your back pocket as you exit the library and see that it’s raining again. It seems like there has been constant rain over the last two weeks, making everything dreary. A mirror to how you felt inside as well.

Not having an umbrella, you power walk down the street towards the train station to get home. It’s only a couple of blocks but you still hate to do it at night. Especially when you get a sudden chill at the back of your neck, as if someone is following you. But every time you turn around, no one is there.

“Relax, ____. You’re exhausted and delirious,” you say to yourself, trying to calm your nerves as you continue walking.

Something big moves at the corner of your eye, dashing down the alleyway to your right and making you halt your quick steps. The only way to your apartment is past that alleyway, so you convince yourself once more that the exhaustion is getting to you and you press forward down the sidewalk.

You hold your breath and close your eyes as you sprint past the alleyway, stopping after a few feet to catch your breath.

You make it. You’re in the clear. The home stretch.

A cold hand wraps around your wrist and yanks you backwards into the alley. Your brain tries to catch up with what’s happening but when you try to scream, another hand covers your mouth just as your back is pressed against the cold, wet bricks of the wall behind you.

“Pigeon.” Taehyung’s deep voice sounds hoarse but also relieved. Your fight or flight instincts immediately melt away when your eyes settle on his injured face.

A cut on his eyebrow, a bruise beneath his left eye, blood dripping from his forehead from beneath his mess of black hair. What the hell happened to him?

You gently wrap your hand around his wrist and slowly move his hand away from your mouth.

“I won’t scream. I promise,” you assure him, his shoulders visibly unwinding.

“I know you’re scared of me. I’m sorry…I put you in danger because I was being selfish.” Taehyung takes a step back from you, giving you space.

“I’m not scared of you.” You reach out and softly touch his cheek just beneath his eye where the bruise has blossomed and he shivers at your touch.

“I’m just glad that you’re safe.” Taehyung moves your palm to his lips and presses a kiss to your skin.

“What happened to you, Taehyung? Where have you been?” 

“All I’ve wanted since this started was to expose The Life Foundation. They’re testing on people and killing them. Not a single person has survived until…”

“You,” you say quietly, watching his shoulders slump before he nods in agreement. “How did this happen?”

“I went to the lab to interview a couple of the scientists for an assignment…I got a little too curious I guess and followed a scientist down into a part of the lab no one knows exists. That’s where I saw the people they’re testing on…in cages. The symbiotes like Venom need a host but it wasn’t working and no one was surviving.” Taehyung runs his hand through his hair before he continues. “I accidentally released Venom when I tried to save one of the people in the cages and he bonded with me and somehow I survived. Still not sure how…”

“What’s stopping you from exposing them?” 

“I wanted to have hard proof before I took the information somewhere else but I haven’t been able to get back inside the lab, not even with Venom.” 

“Because of Jungkook.”

“He doesn’t understand what he’s getting himself into. They have suspicions but they’re keeping me from shutting the place down.” Taehyung sighs. “Your boyfriend is a pain in my ass.”

“What if…what if we talk to him? Jungkook will listen. I know he…” Taehyung cuts you off with a laugh.

“They think I’m a monster…and they aren’t wrong. But all Venom wants is to save the other symbiotes and get back to their planet.” Taehyung’s words almost sound disappointed when he talks about Venom leaving.

“But he’s…he’s hurting you. Can’t Venom heal you?”

“He does…he has. This last round of injuries was…extensive. I’m just healing more slowly.” He slumps against the opposite wall of the alley.

“You need to rest.”

“No. No, we’re going back to the lab tonight to try again.”

“Taehyung, please. He’s going to get you killed. Jungkook and Jin…they’re powerful.”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” He raises his voice slightly, but chokes on his words, folding over when a pain shoots through his side.

“That’s it. I want to talk to Venom.” You can’t stand to see him like this.

“Absolutely not. I’m not putting you in danger.”

“You’ll be there, right? You won’t let him hurt me.”

“I can’t always control him. He doesn’t always listen.” His eyes search yours for any sign of fear but he doesn’t find it.

“Let him out.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for Taehyung to release his monster.

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m giving.” He takes several steps away from you until there’s plenty of space between the two of you. You nod that you’re ready.

The black crawling skin of Venom consumes Taehyung in almost an instant, his handsome face disappearing beneath terrifying white eyes and razor sharp teeth. Deep, bass filled growls flow from between those teeth and rumble the ground beneath your feet.

“Creature.” He says, smiling widely.

“Monster.” You retort.

“Sorry for…chasing you.” He keeps his distance, but paces back and forth through the alley. “I was…hungry.”

“You chase people and destroy buildings when you’re hungry?” You half laugh in disbelief.

“Very hungry!” He growls, pushing against a dumpster.

“Fine. Forget about it. I want you to let Taehyung rest, you’re going to get him killed.”

“Taehyung is fine.”

“No he isn’t! He’s all beat up, and I don’t even want to know what’s wrong internally. He needs time to heal.” You take a few steps closer.

“I can heal him, Creature.”

“He needs to rest. You need him and he won’t be of any use if he’s dead.” You stop as Venom groans and shoves his fists into the ground beside you.

“Demanding little bug.” He half spits.

“How long can you live without your host?��� You don’t flinch at his outburst.

Venom doesn’t answer right away, he goes back to pacing the alley before he starts talking to himself…or to Taehyung.

“Bad idea…she pisses me off…should eat her…” Venom grabs his head in pain when the last line leaves his mouth. “Fine. No eating.” He comes back to stand in front of you, looming several feet taller. 

You look up and hold your stance. You’ll never let this pain in the ass monster know that he absolutely terrifies you.

“Three days. Three days before your atmosphere kills me.” Venom says, not seeming pleased.

“Then leave him alone for three days. Go away and let him rest. I mean it.” Venom lowers his face to yours so that you’re standing eye to eye. 

You can see your reflection in the shiny white of his eyes and your heart picks up its pace. Not because of the monster in front of you, but because somewhere behind those eyes is a man that means more to you than you thought he ever could. The strange feeling of just knowing someone is meant to be in your life becomes slightly overwhelming.

Without a second thought, one of your hands comes up and touches the side of Venom's face. His symbiote skin is cold, strange and unfamiliar. But it only takes a moment before Venom is melting away and once again revealing the stunned face of Taehyung.

“You got him to listen.” He breathes, taking your face in his hands.

“He’s not so tough.” You smile when he laughs and presses his forehead against yours.

“You’re exquisite.” His nose skims yours. “And I missed you.”

“I was so worried about you,” you admit softly against his mouth that has gravitated to yours.

He kisses you softly for a moment, neither of you noticing as Venom slithers out and makes his exit down the alley. You’re too relieved to have Taehyung safely pressed against you again. And when he starts to deepen your kiss, as much as you want it to continue, you press your palm to his chest and gently push him back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I wasn’t joking about you getting rest. I got you three days with no Venom. Let’s get you home, okay?” You lace your fingers through his and start walking towards the street, but he stops you.

“I haven’t been able to go back to the warehouse. They’ve been watching it like hawks.” His shoulder slump when he rubs the back of his neck.

“Where have you been sleeping?” 

“Abandoned buildings mostly. Or just not at all.” He laughs half heartedly.

“Let’s go to my place.” You know it’s a bad idea. Jungkook could drop in at any moment and you aren’t sure how he would react to finding the man behind the monster he’s been so desperately trying to defeat. “You’ll be safe there.”

“Will I?” Taehyung asks, wary for the same reasons you are.

“Yes. Because I’ll protect you.” Taehyung smiles at your declaration.

“I have no doubts about that, Pigeon.”

You take as many back ways as you can think of until you reach your apartment building, releasing a long breath when you safely reach the elevator and unlock your door. 

It feels strange to have Taehyung here, but also very right. He looks like a weight has been lifted off of him as he takes in your green velvet couch and collection of coffee mugs with a boxy smile on his face.

“You’re adorable.” He says, picking up a tiny cactus from your bookshelf that could definitely use some water.

“It’s not much.” You shrug, feeling your cheeks heat.

“It’s perfect.” He comes back to stand in front of you, long fingers gently gripping your chin to make you look at him. “It’s you and I think that’s perfect.”

“Tae…” you sigh but give into the kiss he sweetly presses to your lips. 

“Thank you.” He whispers after a moment. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if anything had…” You cut him off with another kiss.

“I’m fine, I promise.” You take both of his hands in yours and start to lead him towards your bathroom. “You, however, need to take a shower.”

“Saying I stink, Pigeon?” He teases, following you to your tiny bathroom.

“Definitely,” you counter, smiling when he laughs. A real laugh that you aren’t sure you’ve heard yet. It makes your stomach twist and clench.

“Come in with me?” Taehyung asks quietly when you bend to turn on the hot water for him. His fingers find your spine and tease up the column slowly.

God you want to. But the sudden memory of Jungkook in this bathroom with you two weeks ago clouds your vision and your ability to have this too.

“I’m going to make you some tea, okay? Take your time.” You stand on your toes to kiss him quickly, ignoring the pang in your chest when he pouts his bottom lip.

You close the bathroom door and press your back against it. You listen as Taehyung opens the shower curtain and gets inside, the smell of your rose scented body wash wafting from under the door when he uses it. You must be insane.

Bringing him here is so risky, but you can’t leave him out there with nowhere else to go. He means too much. 

When the bathroom door opens twenty minutes later, you jump at the sound, almost dropping your cup of tea to the hardwood floor. It almost takes a tumble a second time when you look up and see Taehyung standing in your kitchen with just a towel around his waist.

“My clothes were in pretty bad shape…I don’t suppose you have something I can borrow?” He asks with a shy smile on his face and fingers in his wet curls.

“Um…y-yeah. Yes. I’ll find something.” A wave of heat rushes over your skin as you hastily move past him and into your bedroom at the end of the hallway. He follows you, leaning against the door frame to watch you.

“Are you worried he’ll come here?” Taehyung asks, the pretty smile on his face replaced by a frown.

“A bit.” You admit, kneeling inside your closet to look through some drawers for sleeping pants. “It’s really just a matter of when…”

“Is he what you want?” The question throws you off, making you pause.

“I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer, more complicated than it should be. Taehyung nods but doesn’t press for more information. You’re not sure you can come with anything else even if he wants you to.

You finally find a pair of green and navy blue plaid pajama pants, pulling them out of the drawer and bringing them to Taehyung. 

He drops the towel as soon as you’re in front of him, eyes holding you in place with nowhere to escape.

“Thanks, Pigeon.” He doesn’t look away from your eyes as he slips his long legs into the too short leg holes and settles them loosely on his narrow hips. Your breath shakes when he steps closer and closes the gap between you. 

“I made you tea,” you croak.

“I don’t want tea.” He practically moans against your neck when he nuzzles your jaw. “I want to show you why I’m what you want.”

Your entire being trembles at the words.

“You should rest, Taehyung.” You can’t stop your hands from finding the warm skin of his shoulders and chest.

“No rest for the wicked, Pigeon.” His mouth claims yours, swallowing down any other protest you may have tried to use.

He slowly leads you back until the back of your knees hit your bed and you both fall onto the mattress. He kisses you until you’re dizzy and desperate for air, your legs wrapping around his hips in a desperate attempt to bring him closer.

And then you remember that your stove is still turned on with tea likely boiling over all over the burners.

“Tae…” Yyou try to say before his lips close over yours again. “The tea…I need to go turn it off.”

“No.” He nips your lips and moves his kisses down your chin and over your jaw.

“I’ll be quick. Just wait here.” You playfully push him off of you, his head landing on your pillows with a smile on his face.

You look back over your shoulder when you reach the door, Taehyung winking as you round the corner into the hallway.

Luckily, the tea is where it should be, inside the kettle. You turn off the burner and move the kettle onto a potholder onto the counter top. Then quickly turn off the lights before stopping by the bathroom to make something of your mess of hair as quickly as possible.

Back in the bedroom, you barely make it inside the door before you hear the quiet snores coming from Taehyung. His arms above his head and his face buried in the pillows as he lays on his back against your mustard yellow sheets. His half dried curls a messy little halo around his head. 

He really is beautiful.

You make your way to the bed, pulling your comforter over his sleeping form and softly touching the bruises in his cheek. He doesn’t stir even a little. 

Over the next three days you, watch him.

You’ve never seen someone sleep so much in your life. It worries you at first, checking to see if he is breaking multiple times throughout the day. But he just continues to sleep, only moving to turn on his side or stomach and barely makes any noise at all.

You email your professors the first day and tell them that you won’t be in class but would follow along online. You move a chair into the corner of your bedroom so you can stay close to him. It keeps you busy while Taehyung sleeps.

You also keep busy with cleaning your apartment and thinking of ways to have a very hard and strange conversation with Jungkook. How did you tell your best friend…someone you love…that you may also have feelings for someone else? 

And how did you then tell your best friend that the other person you have feelings for is the monster he’s been trying to capture for months?

At night you curl up next to him in your bed, but always carefully so you don't disturb him. You want him to feel better as soon as possible.

It was mid morning on the third day, some very difficult calculus questions driving you crazy when you hear Taehyung groan and lift his head from the pillow. 

“Pigeon?” He croaks, his voice rough and dry.

“I’m here, it’s okay.” You toss your book aside, rushing over to the side table and handing him the glass of water you sat out every day in case he woke up needing it. “Drink this please.”

He doesn’t argue, taking the glass of water and downing all its contents in an instant. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hands, chest heaving.

“That may have been the best water I’ve had in my life.” You take the glass and sit down next to him on the bed. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost three days.” You move some black curls away from his forehead when he looks up at you.

“Really? I wasted the whole three days sleeping? Fuck.” He sighs in annoyance.

“It wasn’t a waste, Tae. You obviously needed it after what you’ve been through lately.” 

The way he looks at you makes your stomach flutter and twist. Like he’s never seen anyone like you or felt anything like your touch. It’s maddening.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” He squeezes your hand and jumps out of bed far too quickly, heading into your bathroom where you hear him using the extra toothbrush you had sat out for him. You can’t stop the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

When he returns to the bed, he sits behind you and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling your back against his chest so he can nuzzle his face into your neck.

“Thank you for watching over me,” he mumbles into your neck.

“How do you know I watched over you?” You ask, leaning back into his chest.

“There’s a chair surrounded by snacks, coffee cups and calculus books set up in the corner, Pigeon.” Taehyung kisses your neck and makes you shudder. “You’re too good for me.”

“It’s not that.” Your voice is a whisper when he moves your sweater off of your shoulder to kiss the heated skin there.

“What is it?” His mouth continues leaving warm, wet paths along your neck and shoulder.

“I care…about you.” Your head lulls back against his shoulder when his hands slide up your front beneath your shirt to cup your breasts in his hands.

“I’m still going to show you why I’m what you want…what you need. I didn’t forget.” He nips your earlobe and pinches both nipples with his long fingers at the same time.

You spin around, grabbing his face roughly and slam your mouth onto his in the next second. Taehyung’s hands immediately find your hips helping you straddle his thighs to settle on his lap. 

Any clothing creating an unwanted barrier between the two of you are quickly discarded without a care for where they land. Your skin feels like there’s millions of tiny embers just below the surface waiting to crack through and set the whole room on fire. 

Taehyung holds one arm tightly around your waist while the other maneuvers the two of you back farther on the bed so he can rest his back against the headboard. Your mouths never leave the others, tongues and teeth clashing in the most desperate way. 

“Are you okay…with this?” Taehyung suddenly asks. His hair is a mess and his lips swollen and chapped.

“I don’t know how to answer that question anymore. I wish I just knew what to do…” You feel emotion start to take over and Taehyung grips your chin to look at him.

“It doesn’t matter. Not right now, okay? Right now I just want you to be mine. Because I’m yours…I belong to you.” He says it so simply. And it should be simple. It shouldn’t be possible to love them both.

He pulls you back to him, kissing you so gently it makes you shiver. One hand glides to the back of your head and settles in your hair while the other lifts your ass to hold you above his cock that was standing tall with need between your legs.

No more words need to be spoken as you position him at your entrance, your pussy slick and sticky from the build up to what’s about to happen. He takes his hand from your hip and brings it to your throbbing clit, using his thumb to stroke it slowly while you lower yourself onto him.

The stretch of him mixed with the way his thumb strokes you is as close to heaven as you can imagine. You can feel yourself getting wetter that more you try and accommodate his size.

“Be good for me, Pigeon. Ride my cock.” He moans the words around one of your nipples when he leans forward to capture one with his lips.

Once fully seated, you slowly move your hips in a circular motion, causing his engorged cock to hit places inside that make fireworks pop behind your eyelids and your head to fall back when your back arches.

“Fuck…you feel so good,” you finally manage to say.

“I could come right now just watching you take me like this, angel. Like you were made to have my cock inside you.” Taehyung groans as his hands find your hips and help you start to move up and down.

You find a mind numbing rhythm, and orgasm on the brink of breaking through. You’re so close it almost hurts. 

“I need to come, Tae…please.” You wrap your arms around his neck, sweaty chests sliding against the other.

“Me too. Fuck, I can’t wait to come inside you.” He holds you steady, digging his heels into the mattress and thrusting upwards to meet your movements.

A silent scream has your mouth hanging open and eyes rolling to the back of your head when you finally get your release. Taehyung’s lips and tongue scorching the skin of your neck when he feels you clench around him.

“Good girl, Pigeon. Come all over my cock.” He holds you down, fully sheathing inside you when he finds his release as well. 

You slump against his chest, breathing hard as you start to come down for the incredible high he had just given you. 

Taehyung kisses your shoulder and up your neck, over your jaw and chin until he reaches your lips. Kissing your raw lips in the softest way.

“You okay?” You ask, still out of breath.

“Never better.” He smiles, moving sweaty hair from your face.

“I’ll get you some more water. Maybe snacks?” You move from his lap, the sudden empty feeling making you groan.

“Venom will be here soon. If he isn’t already.” His smile fades.

“I know. So let’s get you fed and hydrated before he makes his presence known, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Don’t be too long.” He holds your hand to help you off the bed while he readjusts against the headboard. You playfully roll your eyes, grabbing your t-shirt off the floor and quickly throwing it on before you slip out of your bedroom to the kitchen.

You fill up two more glasses of water and begin rummaging through your cabinets for any sort of edible snack when you hear tapping on the glass doors leading to your balcony. You nearly drop everything when you turn and see Jungkook standing there in his Spider-Man suit, his mask in his hand.

“Fuck.” You grumble, sitting down the snacks and water before going to unlock the door with pure fear coursing through your veins.

“Since when do you lock this door?” Jungkook asks as soon as you turn the lock.

“Just to be safe.” Your voice shakes and your eyes continuously flash towards the hallway where you know your bedroom door is wide open. Another man in your bed.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here in so long I just…” He pauses, a look you recognize crossing his face. He senses something.

Shit.

“Is everything okay?” You know the answer.

“He’s in here.” Jungkook immediately starts to push past you to look through your apartment.

“Who? What are you talking about Jungkook?” You try to grab his arm while he looks in your living room.

“The monster. I know that feeling anywhere. He’s here. What the fuck is he doing here?” You shove against his chest to stop him.

“There’s no monster here. I think you need to go.”

“What the fuck is going on, Data? Is someone else here?” His jaw ticks and your panic is starting to take over.

“I…um. Jungkook, please just listen.”

“Who? Who the fuck is it?” He pushes past you and you grab his arm to stop him before he freezes in place, looking at the doorway that leads to the hall.

Taehyung in all his shirtless glory stands leaning against the frame.

“Looking for me?” Taehyung smirks and you want to die.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jungkook practically seethes.

“Pretty sure you know the answer to that.” Taehyung takes a step towards you and Jungkook immediately blocks his path.

“You’re him? The monster from the lab?” Jungkook asks, moving into an even more protective stance.

“You don’t need to protect her from me.” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest and walks over to the counter where you left the water and snacks, picking up a glass and taking a few drinks. “I’d never hurt her.”

“You mean the way your monster left her bruised and bleeding by the docks? Fuck you.” Jungkook takes your hand and pulls you towards the balcony door. “I don’t know what you’re doing with him, Data, but he’s fucking dangerous. Let’s go.”

“Jungkook, please. You don’t understand.”

“Don’t fight me on this. I’m getting you out of here.”

“Since when do you care about ___? She may as well be alone when she’s with you.” Taehyung moves to stand in front of the doors.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re lucky I don’t drag you to Mr. Kim this fucking second.”

“Is that so, spider boy?” Taehyung smiles and grabs Jungkook’s shoulder to stop him from dragging you any farther.

Jungkook lets go of your wrist and pushes Taehyung in the chest. But before he can make any other moves, Venom’s black crawling skin swallows Taehyung and replaces him with the huge looking monster.

Venom roars, shaking your entire apartment. He’s so big he takes almost half the room.

“Get the hell out of here, Data!” Jungkook yells, slipping his mask back over his face.

You want to rip your hair from your head. Scream at the top of your lungs. Stomp on the floor like a two year old throwing a tantrum. 

But you deserve this after what you’ve been doing.

“Stop.” You say, watching Jungkook shoot a web at Venom’s sharp clawed hand. “Stop it!” You practically scream, making the both of them pause to look at you.

“Go outside, Creature.” Venom growls.

“You’re both going to listen to me. Right fucking now.” You walk across the kitchen and stand between them. “You’re not about to destroy my apartment with your pointless fighting. So listen to what I have to say.”

Jungkook stays in his defensive position but nods towards you for you to continue.

“You’re going to listen too, monster. Understand?”

“Bossy little creature.” He groans, ripping Jungkook’s web off of his hand and giving you his attention.

“I realized the other day that you all want the same thing. You want to shut down that lab and stop the testing they’re doing on humans. Venom wants to save his friends and go home and Jungkook, I know you want to save everyone trapped inside there. So why don’t we all work together to make it happen?” You release a long breath after everything spills out. “And after we do that…then we can talk about…us.” You motion between the three of you.

“Data…I didn’t know that I…” Jungkook starts to say but you stop him by holding up a hand.

“We aren’t doing this now, okay? Right now, we need to go see Jin.” 

“Ironman.” Venom growls in distaste.

“He can help. I know he’ll know how to get you and the other symbiotes home.” you try to reason. 

Venom contemplates for a moment before answering. “Fine, Creature. But if he messes with me, I eat him.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Jungkook half laughs, taking off his mask as he approaches you. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. Now let’s go.” You walk out the balcony door and wait expectantly. “Well?” You tap your foot.

Jungkook and Venom stare at each other for a moment, silently telling the other that these conversations aren’t over but that they’re going to trust you on this.

Jungkook puts his mask back on once more and makes a beeline towards you, grabbing you around the waist and jumping off the balcony with you in his arms. Venom barks a laugh and quickly follows after.

And then you’re falling.

taglist: @hanversace @chaelvrx @moonchild1 @rkivewritersblog @ungodlyjoon @ricecakeslove @jeonsweetpea @screamertannie @tearyjjeon @kookrecs @bintificreads @minisugakoobies @sureconfused @boisenberry77@ts19009 @lorarri @looneybleus @joyouart @armyugh @kthsmoon @vminluvrs @ooooglymoooogly (i did my best with this, i may have missed people who asked)

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[punkshort]

Evergreen | Chapter One: Denial

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Tommy encourages Joel to join bereavement group counseling, where he meets you. You connect over a similar loss and the common thread of loneliness, leading to something unexpected for you both.

Chapter Warnings: grief, angst, mentions of OC deaths, mild references to: suicide, self harm, drug use (none by reader or Joel), language, panic/anxiety attack (Joel), Joel POV

WC: 8.8K

A/N: I've been working on this goddamn series since May. Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to it but I am committing to a posting schedule now that it is almost complete and I appreciate you all for being so patient. Hope you enjoy tons of fluff and softness and angst.

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Joel's hands gripped the steering wheel as he stared blankly at the faded brick building connected to the small, run down parking lot. He watched as the clock ticked down to six in the evening, and with each passing minute a new car parked nearby or someone walked through the double doors. He wasn't sure what he expected, but he was surprised to see people of all ages streaming inside.

Then he saw a young woman with two children, one in each hand, neither of which could have been over seven years old, walk inside with watery eyes and he dropped his gaze to his lap in shame.

Mia had been gone for nearly ten years. He had no business being there. His grief wasn't fresh. Over the years, he's learned to cope with it, to live alongside it. The people who were there that night needed the support.

Joel didn't need support. He was just lonely.

He reached for his key, still dangling in the ignition, when his phone rang. With a sigh, he patted down the front of his jeans until he located his phone, then lifted his hips off the worn seat with a grunt so he could fish it out.

"Yeah?"

"You better not be thinkin' 'bout leavin'."

Joel swiveled around in alarm, searching the parking lot for his brother's truck, but all he saw were the last few stragglers hurriedly walking up to the front doors, the anguish practically weighing them down as they moved.

"You watchin' me now?"

Tommy chuckled on the other end.

"Nah, I'm at home. I just know you."

Joel rolled his eyes as the clock ticked to 6:01 on the dash.

"This is stupid, Tommy."

"It ain't stupid. It's been almost ten years and you've never looked twice at another woman. You can tell me you've moved on or that you're fine, but I'm not buying your bullshit," Tommy said sternly on the other end. "I don't think you ever gave yourself a chance to process what happened and it's important you do that. For your mental health and all that."

"Maria tell you to say that?" Joel scoffed, but still unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

"Maybe. Don't matter who said it, it's true."

"Fine. I'm walkin' in now, I'll call you later," Joel said, then hung up without waiting for a reply.

The building wasn't very big. From the lobby, Joel could hear a male's voice making what sounded like brief introductions as he strolled quickly down the hall. He rested his hand on the push bar and took a deep breath. Right as he was about to enter, he heard someone else's light footsteps jogging up behind him. He turned around as you approached, a little breathless and with a guilty smile.

"Oh, good, I'm not the only one who's late," you said, nodding towards the door.

"Uh, yeah," Joel said, clearing his throat softly, "we can share the heat," he joked, opening the door and stepping aside so you could walk through first. You shot him a grateful look and mouthed thank you before entering the room.

The group all turned their heads at the disruption, as expected, but the counselor waved them in with a warm smile.

"Welcome! Have a seat, we were just getting started."

Joel found the first empty chair he could, in the very last row closest to the door. You glanced around the room before sliding into the same row as him, just a few seats down.

"As I was saying, welcome to the grief and loss support group. I'm Dr. Harris, but please feel free to call me Ryan."

Ryan was young. Definitely under forty. Something about that irked Joel. He imagined this man going to school to learn how to be caring, how to listen and say all the right words at the right time so he could make a decent paycheck and call himself doctor while he went home to his wife and picket fence and his patients went home with a gaping hole in their hearts.

"There is no wrong way to grieve," Ryan was saying from the podium with a practiced look of solemnity. "All of you are here for different reasons. And while you may look around here and think nobody else could possibly understand what you are feeling, I am here to tell you that you are simply wrong." Ryan took a moment to let his words settle over the group before continuing. "We have all lost somebody in our lives. That is the common thread that weaves us all together. And I'm here to tell you to use it." Ryan clenched his fists for emphasis and Joel had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Lean on each other. Listen to one another. This is a safe space. Nobody will judge you here, no matter what you may think, everybody in this room is here for the same reason."

After what felt like an eternity, Ryan invited the people in the room to approach the podium to speak, no longer than ten minutes, he had said, reminding everyone that their time was limited and they always could speak again at the next meeting.

One by one, people trickled up to the front of the room. First it was an elderly woman who explained with tears in her eyes that her husband of forty years passed away a month ago.

"It sounds silly," she sniffled, "but it feels like I'm... untethered. Like I lost my connection to this world when he left and I'm scared I might just... float away."

Next was a man around Joel's age who visibly struggled to hold back his tears about his late sister.

"I just keep reminding myself I didn't cause it, I can't control it, can't undo it. I'm really mad at myself for not paying attention to the warning signs. She was struggling, y'know?" His glassy eyes addressed the group briefly before he cast his gaze back down. "The best thing I can do is try to rebuild. Don't let the anguish fester. Don't let it consume me. Because she wouldn't want that."

After that, a girl no older than twenty, arms and neck covered in tattoos walked to the front. "She was my best friend since we were eight. And I know it's my fault, I know it is," she choked out, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I gave her her first hit. I could see she was falling too deep into it and I didn't try to help her, I was too focused on my own shit and not seeing what was right in front of me. To this day, I can't look her mom in the eye-" the girl hung her head and took a moment to gather herself. Chairs squeaked as the group patiently waited for her to continue. "But I'm clean and sober almost six months now," she said with a watery smile. A small round of applause broke out amongst the group and she nodded her thanks. "I'm thinking about going to school for social work. Maybe I can honor her memory in some way."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you cross and uncross your legs nervously but made no move to walk to the front.

Same as him.

When the clock on the wall ticked closer to seven, Ryan addressed the group one final time.

"I'll stick around in case anybody wants to have a talk after group. Just a reminder that I'm only here once a week, but my esteemed colleague, Grace, runs another group on Tuesdays, so please feel free to stop by one or both. I also left some cards in the back next to the coffee. My information is on there if you would like a one on one appointment and on the back is the crisis hotline. Please take one, you never know when you may need it."

The room collectively seemed to stand, a murmur rippling through the group as people began to softly speak again, reaching out to neighbors, either introducing themselves or catching up from the last session. Joel scratched at his chin and looked around the room as people continued to filter around. Some paired off to grab coffee, some went to talk to Ryan, but Joel just stood there. All alone.

He took a deep breath and headed for the back, then lingered at the small stack of business cards Ryan had mentioned. He picked one up and flipped it over, studying it, when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Excuse me," you said, and he swiveled around in surprise.

"Oh, sorry," he replied, stepping to the side so you could reach the coffee. He pretended to look at the card but watched as you filled up a cup. He waited for you to add cream or sugar but you didn't. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a tentative sip before recoiling at the heat and doing it again.

"That, uh, any good?"

Your eyes locked onto his and you shrugged. "'Bout what you'd expect."

He smiled and looked around the room, fidgeting with the edge of the card before sliding it into his pocket. "This your first session, too?"

You shook your head and stepped aside, a little closer to him, so others could get to the coffee. "I've been coming here almost two months."

That surprised Joel. Based on the way the rest of the group seemed familiar with each other, he had suspected the two of you were both new.

"Two months? Wow," Joel said, "how's it workin' out for you, if you don't mind my askin'?"

You sighed and gave him a little smile.

"Some days are better than others. But I figure it doesn't hurt, so..." you trailed off and crossed your arms, your fingertips tapping against the paper cup. "My mom begged me to come, so I did. I think it makes her believe she's helping in some way by pushing it and I grew tired of feeling like an emotional burden."

Joel frowned. "I'm sure that ain't true. No parent thinks their kid is an emotional burden."

You chuckled and drained the rest of your cup. "You'd be surprised." You tossed the cup into the trash before giving him a brighter smile. Although expressing your emotions was the entire reason you were there, you still felt uncomfortable doing it. "So this was your first time? What did you think?"

"Jury's still out," Joel replied honestly. "Promised my brother I would give it a try, same as you. My daughter just went off to college last month and I think he and his wife are worried 'bout me bein' all alone for the first time in, well... forever, I suppose." His lips pursed in thought for a moment. "Feels kinda like I don't belong here. My wife passed almost ten years ago. I've learned to live with it by now. It ain't as raw as all that-" he gestured up to the podium, referencing all the individuals who poured their hearts out for the past hour. Then he realized he was rambling and chuckled. "Sorry. Can't seem to shut up." He looked at you sheepishly and you smiled back.

"That's good. That's what you're supposed to do here," you assured him, then took a deep breath. "I lost my fiancé a year ago, so I can relate... kind of."

"I'm sorry," he said, furrowing his brow and examining your face. "You're so young, you shouldn't know what that feels like at your age."

"Not that young. I'm thirty-one," you joked. He laughed and rubbed his chin.

"Well I got twenty years on you, seems pretty young to me."

"You're fifty-one?" you asked, and he nodded. "You look good, I wouldn't have guessed a day over..." you trailed off as you studied his face and he grinned.

"Go ahead, be honest."

"Forty-three," you decided, and Joel laughed. When was the last time he felt this lighthearted?

"Well that's the nicest thing I've heard all week," he replied. The room began to thin out and you shifted your weight.

"Well, I guess I should get going," you told him, almost sounding regretful. Then you pinched your eyebrows together. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Joel," he said, sticking an arm out to shake your hand. You gave him a warm smile before telling him your name, your hand getting dwarfed by his thick, rough fingers.

"Will I see you next week, Joel?"

"Yeah," he replied, walking out with you and holding open the door. "I'll give it another chance."

"Good. I mean, you know, I'm glad you're giving it another chance," you found yourself inexplicably stumbling over your words and before your face began to heat up you veered off towards your car with a quick wave.

Joel's eyes trailed after you for a minute before he opened the door to his truck and climbed inside. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against his lower lip, lost in thought while he stared straight ahead at the emptying parking lot. Then you drove by in a higher end white SUV and he watched as you took a right turn out of the lot and disappeared down the road. He sighed and started his truck, realizing he was one of the last cars in the lot, and decided to stop at a fast food drive thru on the way home.

"Uncle Tommy told me you went to a grief support group the other day, how did it go?" Sarah asked him over FaceTime. He pushed the lever on his recliner and leaned back into the chair with a grunt.

"S'alright," he mumbled.

"Did you share anything?"

"No."

"Well, why not?"

"'Cause, baby girl, these people just lost someone close to 'em. I can't get up there and talk 'bout your mama, it's been so long-"

"That doesn't matter," she said, interrupting him. He could hear other kids in the background laughing but she remained focused on her screen. "I don't think you've ever really processed Mom's death and it's important to me that you try. I worry about you, old man," she teased, and Joel grinned.

"No need to worry 'bout me, I'm stayin' busy."

"Yeah, doing what? And don't tell me you're eating frozen meals and watching baseball because it'll break my heart."

Joel's eyes drifted to the empty plastic tray on the coffee table.

"No," he said gruffly. "Ain't baseball season. I'm watchin' basketball."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Dad," she whined, "what about your friends? The guys from work?"

He didn't have the heart to tell her they were busy with their families, with their wives, so he lied.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get together with Jimmy later this week. Gonna shoot some pool."

"That sounds great!" Sarah exclaimed, her face instantly brightening. Her eyes snapped up to someone behind her phone and she grinned, holding up one finger, then looked back at him. "Listen, Dad, I gotta run. I promised a few friends I would go to the football game with them."

"Oh, so you'll watch football with your friends and not me?" he teased, and she giggled. "Alright then, text me when you get back home safe."

"I will. I love you."

No matter how many times he heard it, those words always warmed his heart.

"Love you too, baby girl."

The call ended and he set his phone down with a sigh. Sarah was right. He couldn't waste away in his house all alone, waiting for her to come home to visit or for Tommy and Maria to come by for dinner. He needed to get a hobby. He glanced outside then looked at the time before turning off the television and pushing himself out of his recliner with a groan. He shuffled down the hall to his bedroom to change out of his old sweatpants and ratty tshirt, then snatched his keys off the kitchen counter and headed out to the driveway.

He drove aimlessly through town, his window down with his arm hanging out, soaking up the sun's rays. Kids were playing on the sidewalks and people were walking their dogs or pushing strollers. Everyone just seemed so... happy. Content.

Maybe he should get a dog.

Maybe he should start with a fish, first.

He jumped on the highway and cruised with one hand on the steering wheel. Hank Williams crooned from the radio and Joel took a deep, relaxing breath. He was coming up on the exit for the mall. Sarah loved dragging him to the mall. A smile played on his lips and he figured why not.

He veered off the highway and slowed when he approached the red light, the mall parking lot straight ahead. It didn't look terribly busy. With the weather as nice as it was, he imagined most people would be spending their time outside.

Joel found a good spot right out front. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked inside through the Macy's. A blast of freezing cold air conditioning hit him like a ton of bricks, cooling the sweat that was collecting on the back of his neck. He managed to make his way through the maze of the department store and entered the mall itself. There were a few groups of girls around Sarah's age giggling and carrying shopping bags and the random couple here or there walking into William Sonoma or Brookstone.

When he passed by the food court, he saw a few solitary older men sipping coffee and reading the paper or people watching. Joel huffed under his breath, wondering who on earth would come to the mall just to read a paper until he realized he was no better.

Was he going to become just like them one day? Would he come to the mall to nurse a coffee just so he wouldn't feel so alone? The thought had his throat closing up.

He paused and leaned against a railing overlooking the bottom floor of the mall, pretending to be looking for someone when in reality he was struggling to breathe. His heart was fluttering too fast in his chest and his vision was narrowing.

"Shit," he whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus on taking deep breaths. It was like reality crashed down around him all at once: Sarah was moved out of the house. Tommy was happily married. And Joel was going to die all alone.

He gasped and blinked, trying to clear his head and mentally talk himself down, but it was no use. He leaned forward a bit to rest his forehead on the cool, stainless steel railing but his knees began to buckle. Just when he thought he would need to stop someone and beg them to call an ambulance, he heard someone say his name, temporarily snapping him out of his daze.

"Are you okay?" you asked, the smile slipping from your face when you noticed how flush he looked. He could only manage to shake his head. Without hesitating, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him stand, then glanced around. Spotting an empty bench, you led him over and helped him sit. You rubbed your palm over his upper back soothingly and sat next to him, reminding him to breathe deeply until his vision cleared and he felt his strength return.

"Christ," he mumbled. He sat up and leaned back so the back of his head rested on the bench and stretched his long legs out. "Thank you," he added, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"No problem," you said, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Or, no. I don't know," he sighed, dropping his hand from his face. "I think it just hit me all at once."

You slid over on the bench to give him more room. "What hit you all at once?"

"That my little girl is growin' up and -" he stopped himself, the words and I'm all alone getting trapped in his throat. "And I just miss her, is all."

You slowly nodded and glanced around the mall. "What does she like?"

He smiled. "Clothes. Music. Makeup. Books."

"What kind of books?"

"The fantasy kind. Y'know, like Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter."

A huge grin spread across your face. "Follow me, I have an idea," you said, standing up and looking down at him before you realized you might have overstepped. "I mean, unless you're-"

"No, let's go," he replied, standing up and stretching out an arm for you to lead the way. He fell in step next to you as you led him down towards the other end of the mall and after a few minutes, he realized where you were leading him.

"The bookstore?"

"Yep," you said cheerily, shooting him a playful grin. "Trust me."

And he did.

"There's some really incredible series out there right now. Why don't we pick one out, you can read it and share it with her so you guys have something to do together from a distance? Do you know if she's read The Word of the Heir? That's by an incredibly talented author who actually got the idea when she was only seven years old," you told him excitedly, leading him deep into the bookstore, dodging tables and displays until you made it to the fantasy section. Joel slowed down and looked around, his panic attack slipping further and further from his mind.

"Uh, I ain't sure," he replied as you held up the book. You tucked it under your arm and began to look again.

"How about Empire of Kings? I haven't read that one but the author is relatively new and I've heard he's an extremely talented storyteller."

Joel shrugged, again unsure what Sarah may or may not have read. All of the titles sounded so foreign to him until his eyes landed on the spine of a thick, hardcover book.

"Oh, this one sounds familiar," he said, plucking it from the shelf. "The Crimson Stone. I think she wanted to read this but I don't think she ever finished it. It's a series-"

"Yeah, I know that one," you told him quietly. He glanced down at the book again and read the author's name.

"Daniel Davis, ain't this the guy who died in that bad wreck downtown?" Joel mumbled as he flipped the book over in his hands to read the back. You nodded. "Maybe I'll get this one."

"Don't waste your money, I can give it to you for free," you said, gently taking it from his hands. You ran your palm distractedly over the cover before flipping it open and looking at the tiny black and white photo of the author on the inside jacket. "This was my fiancé," you added, your voice thick. Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Shit," he mumbled. "I-I'm sorry, his name just sounded familiar, I remember it from the paper..." he trailed off, floundering for what to say to comfort you. Why couldn't he fucking think?

"It's okay," you told him, waving him off, but the guilt still laid heavy in his chest. "There's no way you would have known." You slowly closed the book, giving the picture one more glance, and handed it back to him. "But really, if you want to read them I have tons of copies just sitting around. He had a few other books outside of this series, as well, if you guys wanted them."

Joel's eyebrows knit together. "I don't wanna take your books. They gotta have sentimental value or somethin'."

"No, seriously, I have boxes of them just sitting there. He was in the middle of signing copies for readings he was supposed to do before-" you stopped yourself and cleared your throat. "Anyway. I can bring them to group next week or you can come by the house and look through them yourself if you like."

Joel nodded and nervously chewed the inside of his cheek. "Do you wanna talk 'bout it?"

You looked up at him then, all wide eyed and filled with so much sadness that it made his chest ache. No one so young and pretty should have to go through so much pain. Your eyes drifted over his face for a moment, quietly studying him before responding. "Yeah. I kind of do."

Joel looked over his shoulder and spotted the café across from the bookstore. "You wanna get a coffee and find a quiet bench or somethin'?"

"That sounds nice," you replied, so he put the books back on the shelf and walked out into the mall. He spotted a bench near an empty storefront and he told you to go have a seat with the promise of bringing you back something to drink. There wasn't a line at the counter. He couldn't imagine many people wanted coffee that late in the day, so it only took a few minutes before the barista slid the two cups of black coffee across the counter and he met you back at the bench.

"Black, right?"

You smiled and gingerly took the cup. "Yeah, how did you know?"

"From group the other day," he replied, then sat down with a grunt. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, each of you letting your coffees cool before you spoke.

"I usually don't talk about it. Every week I tell myself I'm gonna go up to that podium and pour my heart out and every week I chicken out."

Joel didn't say a word. He learned early on with Sarah when she was upset, she just wanted someone to listen to her. So that's exactly what he did. He sipped his coffee and just listened. And before you even realized it, you were telling him everything.

You began by telling him Daniel was from Austin but you met in Portland, where you grew up. For a while, the two of you tried doing a long-distance relationship, but once you were finished with school you took him up on the offer to move in with him in Texas. Shortly thereafter, he proposed and you had spent the last year of his life planning your dream wedding. The night of the accident, you had been touring a venue an hour outside the city. It was dark when you finished up and drove back home.

Daniel didn't do anything wrong. You insisted Joel knew that first.

A truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and ran a light, completely crushing the driver's side and killing Daniel instantly. Somehow, you had only come out of the accident with a small concussion and a badly bruised chest from the seatbelt.

"Jesus," Joel muttered when you exhaled a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, darlin'. That's some fucked up shit." His eyes widened and he straightened up in his seat. "Shit, sorry for cursin'... twice." He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably and a slow smile spread across your face. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you burst out laughing.

"Thank you," you said in between giggles. He grinned, confused but happy you were laughing and not crying. "I needed that. And you're right, it was some fucked up shit."

Joel chuckled and took a sip from his coffee. He heard his phone ring so he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen before silencing the call and putting his phone away.

"You can take it," you said, wiping a stray tear from your eye and jutting your chin towards his phone.

"Just my brother. I'll call him back later."

"Ah, the infamous brother that made you go to group?"

"The very same."

"Younger or older?"

"Younger, but the way he bosses me 'round you'd never know it," Joel said with a grin.

"He's probably just looking out for you."

"He knows I'm feelin' especially lonely without Sarah. Sarah's my daughter, by the way," he said, pulling his phone out and showing you his lock screen: it was a selfie of him and Sarah on the beach, Joel looked red as a lobster and Sarah's hair looked tangled from the wind but there was no denying the happiness in both their eyes.

"She's beautiful," you said warmly. He smiled and put his phone away.

"Got that from her mama."

"I don't know, I see a little bit of you in her smile," you teased, bumping up against his shoulder playfully. He rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

"What I'm tryin' to say is, I can relate a bit to what you're goin' through. Y'know, losin' a partner and feelin' like you got no one left," he said. You took a deep breath.

"Yeah, sounds like you do."

Joel nervously picked at his jeans, trying to figure out the right way to say what he wanted to say without sounding like an old creep, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke first.

"Maybe we can hang out together and keep each other company?" you offered. He turned his head and grinned.

"I was 'bout to suggest the same thing."

"Really?" you asked, looking as relieved as he felt. He nodded.

"Sounds like we both could use a friend."

Something in your expression shifted. It was too quick. He couldn't pinpoint it but whatever it was disappeared, leaving behind a genuine smile.

"I would really like that, Joel."

"What the hell? You couldn't call me back yesterday?" Tommy scolded when he marched into the small, messy office the following morning. Joel glanced up from behind his desk; papers, a calculator and a pencil scattered about in front of him. He took his reading glasses off with a sigh, abandoning his work. He hated doing the administrative part of his job. He always preferred to be on site or meeting with clients.

"I was busy."

"Busy?" Tommy repeated before collapsing in the worn out chair across from him.

"Yeah, busy. I was... with a friend," Joel mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant but Tommy's ears perked up.

"A friend? Who?"

Joel shrugged. "Someone I met at that group you made me go to."

Tommy's eyes lit up. "Hey, that's great. See? I knew it'd be good for you. What's his name?"

Joel pursed his lips before softly saying your name and Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"A woman? That's even better, Joel."

"It ain't like that-"

"'Course not," Tommy said, "I'm just sayin' it's a step in the right direction."

"She's too young," Joel said defensively, giving Tommy pause.

"Okay..."

"We're just friends. She ain't from 'round here, ain't got anyone in Texas."

Tommy frowned as he watched Joel shift uncomfortably in his chair, wondering what made his brother get so sensitive, so he chose to tread lightly.

"So you're keepin' each other company. That's nice."

"Yeah," Joel said, standing up with a grunt and rubbing his lower back before he snatched his coat from the wall. "Ready to go?"

"Sure," Tommy said, standing to follow Joel out of the office. While he locked the door behind him, Tommy couldn't help but ask, "How young is too young?"

"Thirty-one," Joel replied, fishing the keys out of his pocket.

Tommy shrugged, falling in step next to his brother as they walked towards the parking lot. "Sounds like an adult to me," he muttered, but Joel chose to ignore it. "When are you seein' her again?"

"End of the week," Joel replied before climbing into the truck.

"Friday?"

"Yeah, after work. We were gonna order some dinner and look through some books she's tryin' to get rid of."

The corner of Tommy's mouth twitched. "So, like a date?"

"It ain't a date," Joel said firmly, his jaw set as he pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive in the direction of the first worksite. "She's mourin' the loss of her husband, it's not a date."

"Husband?" Tommy repeated, then Joel shook his head, growing flustered.

"Fiancé. Not husband."

"When did he pass?"

Joel thought back to what you told him the night you first met. "A year ago."

Tommy hummed and looked out the window, tapping his fingers against the car door in rhythm with the beat from the radio. Joel side eyed him while they sat in silence for a few minutes before he rolled his eyes and sighed. "What?" Joel asked with an edge to his voice.

"A year's a long time, is all."

"She's in grief therapy, Tommy. She's in pain and tryin' to come to terms with it. Quit makin' it sound like somethin' it ain't."

"Just 'cause she's in grief therapy don't mean she ain't ready to move on-"

"Goddamnit, this is the last time I tell you anythin'," Joel grumbled as he made a left hand turn. Tommy hid a smile behind his hand and looked out the window.

"Alright, no need to get all defensive on me now."

Joel opened his mouth to argue but quickly snapped it shut. The more he pushed back just gave Tommy more ammunition. Besides, he knew the truth. You were looking for a friend, someone who could relate to what you were going through. There was absolutely no way you were interested in a man twenty years older than you. The thought was so absurd it almost made him laugh. You were young and beautiful and charming and you had your whole life ahead of you.

No, surely Tommy was wrong.

When Joel pulled up to your house, his eight year old truck the noisiest thing on the whole block, he let out a low whistle and threw it into park, deciding at the last second to keep his car on the street for fear of leaving an oil stain or something on your pristine concrete driveway. He sat in his truck for a moment, taking in the monumental Victorian house before him. He recognized it from his youth, but back then the siding was chipped and the windows were foggy, in desperate need of replacing. He always admired houses like yours and part of his heart broke whenever he saw one fall into such a state of disrepair that it was beyond saving, but not yours. No, at some point in the past ten years, the house was upgraded but managed to maintain the original charm.

There was fresh siding and new windows installed, the insides framed in what looked like delicate lace curtains, complimenting the style of the house. The roof looked like it had been replaced and the front door looked new, but the original architecture remained. He could easily tell whoever bought the house took great care with it, and the contractor in him breathed a sigh of relief that it didn't fall into the wrong hands, or god forbid, a flipper.

When he walked up your driveway towards the small stone path that led to your front door, he slowed to look at the garden that flourished in front of the wraparound porch. It was a beautiful mix of wildflowers and hedges, and while wildflowers had a tendency to look messy and unkept, you somehow managed to make it look neat and well put together. Fat, fuzzy bumblebees bounced drunkenly from flower to flower and as he climbed the wooden steps, a hummingbird buzzed past his ear, spooked by his presence.

He pressed the button to your doorbell, noting you chose not to install one of those camera doorbells and for some reason, that bothered him. Normally he wasn't a huge fan of technology, but you were all alone in this big house. You needed to be safe, to be careful. Your house was in a nice neighborhood, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

The door swung open and you greeted him barefoot with a warm smile before stepping aside to let him in. You were wearing a loose tshirt that hung off one shoulder and he chastised himself when his eyes traveled down your tight fitting jeans to your ass as he followed you into your home.

He shrugged his reaction off to just typical male instinct and forced his focus onto the lovely foyer surrounding him as he slid off his boots. Polished cherry wainscoting lined the walls and his eyes widened when he noticed the small tiles in the shape of little octagons below his feet.

"Is this original?" he asked you in disbelief as he pointed to the ground. Your gaze followed his finger and you nodded.

"We tried to keep everything original, if we could," you explained.

"Wow," he breathed as he stepped forward into the hallway, his eyes unable to keep up with how fast his brain was operating. His gaze slid over the original hardwood floors of the hallway, fresh wallpaper, and wide, polished staircase with a plush carpet installed in the center of the steps. Much to his delight, you chose to furnish the house to match the style, as well. Antique fixtures hung from the ceiling and a real wood table was pushed against the wall. A small lamp sat on top with a stained glass Tiffany shade, and next to it was a pile of mail and a framed photograph he tried not to examine too closely out of respect.

"This way," you said over your shoulder, and he followed you blindly deeper into the house. You pushed open a swinging door that led into your kitchen, and for the first time since arriving, his nose was the first of his senses to respond instead of his eyes.

It smelled absolutely heavenly. He had no idea what you were cooking but his mouth instantly watered at the smell of garlic and salt and some kind of meat.

He swallowed and hoped his stomach wouldn't growl and embarrass him.

"Thought we were gonna order somethin'?" he asked as he watched you hurry over to the stove to stir something.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but I felt like cooking," you replied without looking. He glanced around the room, noticing you chose to update the counters and cabinets to look more modern, but kept the original flooring.

"Mind? Are you kiddin' me? Haven't had anythin' decent to eat since Sarah left for college."

Memories of fast food drive thrus and frozen dinners flashed before his eyes as he watched you turn off the burners on the stove. You opened a cupboard and stretched on your tiptoes to reach a bowl, the hem of your shirt riding up ever so slightly and revealing a small sliver of skin on your back and suddenly, his mouth was watering for an entirely different reason.

Stop it.

"Need some help?" he offered, and you fell back onto the flats of your feet, shooting him a nod and smile. He didn't mean to, but he reached up from behind you for the serving bowl, his front brushing gently against your back, and your shoulders tensed. Shit.

"Sorry, here ya go," he said, handing you the bowl and immediately giving you some space, not catching the glimmer of disappointment in your eyes.

"Thank you," you murmured shyly. He watched you spoon vegetables into the bowl for a moment, grabbing random jars of seasoning and sprinkling them on top before stirring it up, and he finally remembered his manners.

"Can I help?"

"No, no, I got it," you insisted, waving him toward a door on the other side of the kitchen. "Go sit down, I'll be right out."

He wandered over to the propped open door and entered your dining room. Pausing for a moment, he admired the chandelier above the table that looked old but the brass had been polished and the crystals cleaned. The drop ceiling was even remarkable: squares of textured patterns that repeated across the whole room, adding a whole other layer of elegance to the already impressive first floor. His eyes drifted to the dark wood table, where two spots were already set across from each other. He pulled out a chair and sat down, shifting his weight a bit and noting the chairs must have been recently reupholstered based on how firm the cushion was underneath him. You breezed in after him, hardly giving him enough time to take in the elaborate fireplace and mantle at the end of the room, and began to set down plates of food. His eyes bugged out of his head when he saw fresh, fried chicken and whipped mashed potatoes.

"You didn't have to go through all the trouble," he assured you, but you smirked at the way he stared at the chicken, the aroma from the breading overpowering his senses.

"It wasn't any trouble, I like to cook," you replied, disappearing into the kitchen to grab the vegetables and a basket of fresh rolls before finally joining him at the table.

Joel spread the cloth napkin over his lap, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from devouring everything in sight. He glanced up at you and you grinned.

"Go ahead, help yourself."

You watched with a small smile on your face as he loaded up his plate, then played with your own food until he took his first bite of chicken. He froze, his mouth full, and stared at you in awe before he dropped the chicken leg on his plate and leaned back, a deep, appreciative moan rumbling from his chest, making your thighs squeeze together under the table.

"Goddamn," he said once he swallowed. "That's the best fried chicken I've ever had in my entire life, darlin'."

You giggled and finally took a dainty bite of your own before nodding in agreement. "It's not bad."

Joel scoffed and took another bite. "Don't sell yourself short, now. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout. What'd you put in this?"

He listened, completely enraptured, as you explained how you soaked the chicken in buttermilk the day before and all of the seasonings you used in the breading.

"Oh! I almost forgot the lemonade," you said, standing back up and rushing into the kitchen, returning with two cold glasses and setting them down on the placemats. He nodded his thanks, mouth still full, and you giggled again.

You were already planning on packing up all the leftovers so he could take it home, but you still encouraged him to have as much as he wanted while it was warm and fresh.

"Did you make the rolls, too?" he asked after he took a bite.

You laughed and shook your head. "No, I'm not that good. I bought them this morning from a local bakery I like around the corner."

You had finished your meal long before he did, watching with your chin in your palm as he went back for seconds, reveling in the noises and compliments he made with practically each bite.

"Here, have some more," you told him, nudging the plate of chicken in his direction, but he leaned back in the chair and shook his head. "I can't, but everythin' was delicious. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm thrilled to cook for someone again," you replied with a sad smile before standing up and picking up your plate. He immediately stood and began to collect the rest, but you waved him back down.

"Sit, sit, I still have dessert," you told him, and based on the way he looked at you in that moment you would have put money down that he could be knocked over with a feather.

"Oh, darlin', you did too much," he replied, immediately flooding with guilt that he didn't even bring wine or flowers.

"Stop! I told you, I like doing it and I never get a chance to anymore, so please, sit down and I'll be right back."

Begrudgingly, he did as he was told and, while listening to you in the kitchen, peered out the back window at the meticulously kept grounds. Your house, like you, was absolutely beautiful. It felt like stumbling across an oasis in the middle of the desert.

You reappeared in the dining room with a bowl of diced, sugared strawberries and a plate of warm biscuits. He watched in stunned silence as you fixed him a plate, spooning the strawberries on top of a fresh shortcake, but told him to wait a moment before hurrying back into the kitchen and returning with a small bowl of homemade whipped cream.

Joel thought he died and went to heaven.

He could tell you didn't want to hear him complain that it was too much, so instead he lavished your baking with praise and thanks, both of which seemed to make your eyes shine bright and your lips remain curled into a smile the whole time.

"You're taking the leftovers home, too," you warned him once you finally allowed him to help bring things back into the kitchen. You were packing everything up nice and neat in matching Tupperware containers and stacking everything into a paper bag. As much as he wanted to decline, he really wanted your leftovers more, so he continued to thank you as he began to wash the dishes in your farmhouse sink. You had tried to fight him on it, but he finally wore you down and won. Stubborn little thing, he thought.

After dinner was cleaned up, you led him back down the hall and up the wide staircase, explaining that the books were all housed in a den at the top of the stairs, but when you opened the door to the room, den seemed like too small a word for it.

It was gorgeous, plain and simple. The cherry wainscoting continued in this room with a dark green wallpaper to accent the wood. All along the wall were antique sconces lighting up floor to ceiling bookcases stuffed full of literature. On the back wall was a large, heavy looking desk with a wingback velvet chair. The desk itself had books and papers scattered about, as if someone were in the middle of something and was rudely interrupted, but based on the layer of dust, he had to imagine nobody had sat there in some time.

And then it hit him: this was your fiancé's office.

A laptop sat open and turned off on the corner of the desk, along with a dusty printer behind the chair on the carpeted floor. He noticed what had to have been manuscripts of some kind based on the lack of coverings on the bound papers piling up next to the printer.

He was an author. This is where he worked.

That was when Joel realized you had been suspiciously quiet. He turned towards you, his eyes scanning your face, studying it. Your arms were wrapped around your middle as you stared blankly at the desk.

"We don't gotta do this today," he said softly, snapping you out of your reverie.

"No, it's okay," you replied, your voice so small it nearly broke his heart. You turned and walked toward the corner of the room, opposite the desk, where a small couch and coffee table sat. A few cardboard boxes were stacked nearby, two of which remained unopened, one recklessly torn into. You started with that one.

"Here," you said, pulling out a few books and handing them out. He stepped forward and took them, looking down at the covers and the beautiful artwork that adorned them. "These are the first trilogy, you should probably read them first before the next. They're different stories but they inevitably weave together so it'll make more sense if you-" you paused, your voice getting caught in your throat, and that's when he realized you had been fighting back tears.

"Hey, it's okay," he told you gently, putting the books down on the coffee table and carefully touching your shoulder, urging you to sit on the couch. After a moment's hesitation, you did, and he sat beside you. "This was too fast. I'll leave these here and maybe one day, when you're feelin' up to it, we can try again."

You looked up at him, eyes watering, and shook your head.

"No, take these now. I have more, I have tons, actually," you said, nodding towards the unopened boxes. "I just haven't come in here since he died and I didn't think it would be this hard." You wiped furiously at your cheeks, trying to hide your anguish.

Joel's heart thundered in his chest. He rubbed your back, trying to offer you a glimmer of comfort while he glanced around the room. "Maybe it was too soon," he offered again.

"No, it's been a year, Joel. I needed to do this." You took a deep breath and gave him a shaky smile. "Thank you. I know this is probably more than you expected-"

"Nah, hey, none of that, now," he cooed, mindlessly petting your hair. "If you needed someone to be here for this, I'm glad you picked me, okay?"

You sniffled and nodded, quietly thanking him again before taking another deep breath and exhaling with a nervous laugh as you looked around the room with him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"'Course," he replied.

"How long did it take for you to move on after your wife passed?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought about it, his fingers still playing with the ends of your soft hair as he slowly rubbed your back. "Well, hard to say. She was sick for a long time so I think I had time to come to terms with it before she died, y'know?" You nodded and listened to him, hanging on his every word and inadvertently leaning into his gentle touch. "Then I had Sarah to worry 'bout and, I don't know, time just... passed me by." He chuckled dryly for a moment before continuing. "My brother thinks I never got over it, Sarah thinks I never processed it, but they only think that 'cause I never dated anyone else."

Your eyes widened in surprise at his confession.

"Never?"

He shook his head and gave you a lopsided grin. "Been busy, I guess."

"But aren't you... lonely?"

He sucked in a sharp breath and cast his gaze to the floor. How did you manage to see right through him so quickly? Was it the common ground or something else?

"Wasn't too bad til Sarah left," he admitted, "but now... yeah. Yeah, it's lonely."

You scanned his face, watching the flicker of sadness in his eyes he tried to hide from you, and you inched a bit closer.

"I'm glad we found each other, Joel," you whispered. His eyes found yours again and he smiled.

"Me, too, sweetheart."

Then, without giving it another thought, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips. It was so tender and soft it felt like he was on the bus in fifth grade and Christine Murphy was giving him his fist kiss all over again while kids in nearby seats teased them with sing-song voices.

You pulled back and looked into his eyes, searching for any hesitation but all you must have seen was confusion because you leaned forward again, kissing him with a little more emotion, your small hand coming up to cup his greying, prickly jaw. You tasted like strawberries and lemonade and you smelled like vanilla and it was making every neuron in his brain fire all at the same time, to the point where his body had no idea what to do but remain frozen.

It was when your tongue first slipped past your lips and flicked nervously over the seam of his mouth that he finally came crashing down to earth. He sat back, breaking the kiss and holding you by the shoulders, staring deeply into your eyes. You were both panting slightly, probably from the excitement and adrenaline, as he tried to figure out what to say, what to do. You were in a fragile state, he decided. You made a mistake, the moment got away from you both and it didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything. You were too young and sweet and beautiful. You didn't really want anything to do with an old man like him. He just happened to be there when you were vulnerable and that was all.

The words never came. He couldn't form a coherent sentence. As the seconds dragged on, your face began to fall and embarrassment flooded your chest, the atmosphere in the room suddenly so thick that it was difficult to breathe. You cleared your throat and leaned back, his hands falling from your shoulders, and then you were the first to speak.

"Oh, no."

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[andhumanslovedstories]

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

[ellecdc]

'Doctor' Sirius?

chef!Sirius Black x mixologist!reader who injures herself at work

CW: fem!reader, description of injury (slice to hand) that needs stitches, blood, hospital, A&E, Jeffrey, bullying Jeffrey part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

The familiar ache in the middle of Sirius’ shoulder blades alerted him to the fact that he was officially half way through his shift.

He took a moment to straighten up, letting his arms fall lax beside his body as he pointed his face to the ceiling. 

He could already hear Regulus berating him for his abysmal posture and Lily lecturing him about how he clearly hasn’t been doing the yoga routine that she sent him whilst James and Remus snickered at his expense.

He hated (loved) them all.

Almost as much as he hated how Jeffery kept showing up in his sodding kitchen. 

“If you’re coming to try to pilfer one of my staff, you’re barking mad.” He spat angrily as he carried on in his sautéing.

“Uhm, I’m sorry chef, but I really need to borrow Caleb.” Sirius heard you reply as his cheeks immediately heated up in embarrassment.

“Dammit; sorry Y/N.” He apologized quickly, lowering the heat on his burner and turning to give you what he hoped was his most sincere (yet dashing) apologetic smirk.

The salacious comment he had prepared died on his lips when he noticed you looking a tad alarmed as you instructed Caleb to take over the bar for you.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked quickly, barely remembering to turn the burner off completely before he was making for you.

“I’m okay...” You offered, not sounding like you completely believed yourself.

“That’s not what I asked.” Sirius grumbled as he took in your form, noticing you holding a black bar towel in your fist; knuckles turning white from how hard you were holding it.

The black of the fabric may have hidden evidence of what had taken place prior to you entering his kitchen, but he could make a deduction from the blood collecting between your fingers as it began to drip down your knuckles.

“You’re hurt.” He surmised, pulling your hand toward him.

“I’m okay.” You offered again, this time in a whisper. 

“Let me see it.” He instructed just as softly, encouraging the towel from your hands to expose a deep slice across the palm of your hand. 

Sirius made an embarrassingly sympathetic cooing sound as he replaced the towel on your hand and applied pressure to the wound. “What happened?”

“Was slicing lemons.” You offered quietly, refusing to look at Sirius as you kept your gaze down towards where your hand was sitting in his. 

Sirius tsked as he pulled your hand further into his chest as if proximity alone could heal it. “You have a kitchen full of well-trained staff and you thought to slice lemons on your own?”

You chuckled self-deprecatingly at that, but Sirius could tell your usual enthusiasm was dimmed. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“If anyone in my kitchen ever accuses you of being a bother, you tell me; got it?”

“Yes chef.” You answered quickly, and though you still wouldn’t look at Sirius, he could see a small smile grace the corner of your lips. 

He would take it. 

He realized then that his kitchen was far too quiet and looked up to notice that everyone’s attention was directed at the two of you. 

“You lot can stare at people in your own time; get back to work.” He barked, causing everyone to quickly avert their gazes and carry on in their tasks. 

“Bunch of sods.” Sirius mumbled as he turned back to you, fighting the urge to push some of your hair that had fallen from its elastic behind your ear.

“Come, we’ll get you fixed up.” He said quietly instead, ushering you out of his kitchen towards the office and – more importantly – the first aid kit. 

Sirius shoved everything that looked like it might be of some importance to Jeffrey to the far edge of the desk and directed you to sit; fighting the urge to smile when he heard a few of Jeffrey’s things go tumbling to the floor. 

“I’m rather miffed with you, you know?” Sirius murmured as he stood between your legs and began to unwrap the towel-turned-tourniquet from your arm.

“With me?” You asked with a chuckle, though it was perhaps more strained than usual. 

“I have made quite the name for myself thanks to my fine slicing and chopping skills, and not only do you not give me the honour of showing those off to you, but you also go and hurt yourself whilst you’re at it.” He continued in his scolding as he poured some surgical spirit onto a square of gauze. 

“S’gonna sting, doll.” He murmured quietly, waiting for your nod of approval before wiping at the wound.

Sirius could feel every muscle in your body tense as you let out a pained breath, and Sirius doesn’t think he can be held responsible for the sympathetic whispers and apologies that fell out of his mouth as he finished up when he had you – his formidable mixologist – sat so vulnerable and injured below him.

“I know, I’m sorry; you’re all done.” He assured you as he binned the now bloody gauze and moved to grab the antiseptic cream.

“So? What’s the verdict doc?” You tried to joke. “Think I can go back to serving drinks?”

Sirius furrowed his brow as he delicately placed a new square of gauze onto the palm of your hand that was quickly saturated with red-tinged ointment. “You are absolutely not cleared for work.”

You chuckled self-deprecatingly as your shoulders slumped. “Keep it elevated and rest, then?” 

Sirius hummed noncommittally. “We’ll have to see what an actual doctor thinks.”

You whimpered at that, and Sirius paused in his wrapping of your hand to consider you.

Your brows were furrowed as you chewed aggressively on your lower lip and stared at Sirius’ work, mind seemingly miles away. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked as he taped off the gauze, though he never relinquished his hold of your hand. 

“I think you did a good enough job, yeah? If I leave it be, it’ll be better in no time?” You asked him.

Sirius could tell that his responding grimace was answer enough to your question when your eyes quickly filled with tears. “Fuck.” You whispered as you hastily used your good hand to wipe at your eyes. 

“I’m sorry doll.” Sirius murmured as he considered momentarily rushing to medical school so that he could fix this for you.

He wanted to fix this for you.

Alas, he was but a chef. 

And soon, he was going to be a convicted felon charged with aggravated assault.

“Sirius, why is Caleb– what happened to my stuff?” Jeffery sputtered as he nearly hit Sirius in the back with the door. 

“There’s been an incident, Jeffrey, your stuff is a little inconsequential at the moment.” Sirius sneered.

Jeffrey pursed his lips as he considered Sirius before his eyes moved to you. “What happened?”

“Cut myself whilst slicing lemons.”

“Have you filled out an incident report?” Jeffrey asked then.

“Christ, Jeffrey; the woman’s hand is still bleeding. Unless the form requires her signature in blood, maybe you can relax about your paperwork for a minute?”

“Are you going to need to leave?” Jeffrey asked you as he pretended Sirius wasn’t even there.

“I-”

“She needs stitches.” Sirius interjected plainly.

“Fuck.” Jeffrey muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. “So, Caleb’s going to need to man the bar for the rest of the evening?” 

“Yes, and Charlie will have to man the kitchen.” Sirius responded as he all but shouldered past Jeffrey in order to grab his jacket. 

“What?” You and Jeffrey chorused; Jeffrey in panic and you in bemusement. 

“Charlie...” Sirius drawled slowly as he stared down Jeffrey and offering you his arm as he encouraged you from the edge of the desk. “You know? Weasley? Ginger hair? Has been working for me since he left school?”

“I know who Charlie is, Sirius.” Jeffrey spat.

“Oh, good. I was getting worried about you, mate.” Sirius said as he pat Jeffrey aggressively on the shoulder. 

“Where are you going?” Jeffrey continued as he followed the two of you out of the office; Sirius’ hand at the small of your back as he ushered you through the halls. 

“Taking her to the hospital.”

“Sirius, the-”

“Chef.” Sirius corrected harshly from the doorway of the kitchen; the room falling quiet as everyone turned to watch Sirius and Jeffrey stare each other down.

“Chef,” Jeffrey corrected, “the kitchen needs you here.”

“My kitchen and its staff are more than capable of surviving without me for a few hours. I have highly skilled and well-trained individuals here, do not insult them by insinuating they ought to be babysat.” 

One could have heard a pin drop in the kitchen at the end of Sirius’ sentence.

When it became clear Jeffrey had no response, Sirius turned to the kitchen staff.

“Weasley.”

“Yes, chef?”

“Take over for me for the rest of the evening, yeah? Caleb will remain on bar so shuffle everyone around as you see fit; text me if you need anything. But don’t need anything.”

“Yes, chef.” Charlie answered quickly; a muted yet proud smile gracing his face as he nodded at his boss. 

“Have a goodnight, guys.”

“Night, chef!” The rest of the staff called as Sirius guided you towards the back door to the parking lot. 

The streetlights flickered as the two of you stepped out into the evening; Sirius relishing in the cool evening air against his kitchen-warmed skin. 

“You don’t have to come with me, you know?” You said quietly. 

Sirius turned to see you standing near the door of the restaurant; arms wrapped around yourself as you chewed your lip nervously. 

“Would you cut that out?” Sirius sniped at you with no heat. 

“What out?”

“Chewing on your lip; if you’re hungry I’ll make you food, if you want to bite lips, bite mine; but leave yours alone.” He scolded as he marched over and gently pried your lip from between your teeth. 

“Wha- your lips? Are you offering me your lips, chef?” You asked slowly; eyes flitting from between both his before travelling down to his lips and back up again.

“I hardly think that’s surprising; I’m a very selfless person.” Sirius explained, emboldened by your reciprocal flirting to leave his hand cradling your jaw. 

You hummed. “So that’s why you shoved all of Jeffrey’s stuff off the desk; you just didn’t want me bleeding all over it.”

“Quite right. God forbid we ruin Jeffrey’s things.”

You barked a surprised laugh at Sirius’ inability to utter Jeffrey’s name without sneering it like a curse word, causing him to laugh as well as he took a step backwards towards his car. 

“Sorry doll; I can’t fix this for you,” he said as he gestured towards your injury with one hand as he opened the passenger door with the other, “but I can find you someone who can.” 

You pretended to be tetchy with Sirius the entire way to the hospital, but he could see your ill-hidden smile through the reflection of the passenger window at his quips and shameless begging for your forgiveness. 

You apparently had a thing about needles, and generally needing to be sewn up like some “moth eaten patchwork quilt”, which Sirius guessed wasn’t completely unreasonable. But by the third hour of waiting in uncomfortable plastic chairs in A&E, you were actually starting to get antsy.

“It’s like they don’t even want to use me as a pin cushion.” You muttered as you watched a coughing child get escorted down the hall.

“Do you think we ought to be worried?” Sirius murmured as he craned his neck to watch the child disappear down the corridor. “Not one person they brought back there has returned.”

You snorted rather inelegantly and sank further back into your chair. “I hope it’s nice, wherever they’re ending up...nicer than this.” You said as the light above you started to flicker ominously. “I bet they even have food.”

“Are you hungry?” Sirius asked quickly. 

“Sort of; figure they’ve got a canteen here?”

This time, it was Sirius who snorted inelegantly. “We are not eating canteen food.”

“Sirius, you should go.” You tried again, ignoring Sirius’ warning glare seeing as the two of you had discussed (read: argued about) this four times already since arriving. “You’ve been working all evening, and you’re probably starved too.”

“I am starved too, and that’s something I can fix.” 

“How exactly can you fix that if you’re not willing to order canteen food?” You deadpanned.

“Doll, we work at a restaurant.” Sirius explained earnestly. 

You rolled your eyes as you let your head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Jeffrey might actually have an aneurism if you call in an order right now.”

Sirius was quiet for a few moments, and by the time you peeled your eyes open, he was standing on the opposite side of the hall with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Sirius!”

“Shush, Y/N; we’re in a hospital.” He scolded. “Jeffrey! Hi! It’s Sirius! Can you put Weasley on the line. Good chap, thanks.”

You watched as Sirius began pacing, counting a tile between each step as Charlie picked up the phone. 

“Hey, I need you to make some food for pick-up; actually...make it delivery, please?” He corrected with a devilish smirk, watching as you brought your hand to your lips in a silent gasp. 

And though this isn’t exactly how Sirius saw his first real meal with you (save the hastily shared plates during shifts), he couldn’t deny that this potluck style picnic in A&E felt like the beginning of something really special.

And If Jeffrey’s blood pressure skyrocketed from having to cover the bar so that Caleb could deliver it for him, well, that was just a bonus. 

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟

　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris misplace his priorities.

WARNING: Fighting, crying, cursing. ANGST with a happy ending.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched Chris frantically scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to her. The silence in the living room echoed the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks, the memory of the previous day's event still fresh in Y/N's mind.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N sighed contentedly as she set the dark wooden table carefully, placing the plates and cutlery impeccably. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing Chris's favorite dish, with fresh ingredients, for the romantic dinner they had planned to have after the triplets recorded the video that would be posted next Friday. Everything was perfect, except for the emptiness that began to settle in her chest as the hours passed and Chris didn't appear.

At eight sharp, Y/N sat at the table, her heart filled with anticipation and anxiety. She watched the stairs leading to the front door with every sound she heard, willing him to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety turned to despair.

Nine o'clock passed, and Y/N was still sitting alone at the table, her stomach churning with hunger and worry and her eyes staring into space, small tears burning her cornea. She tried calling Chris several times, but every call went to voicemail, as well as her messages going unread.

At ten o'clock, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Thick tears began to stream down her face as she looked at the still untouched plate in front of her. The romantic dinner she had so lovingly prepared now seemed like a cruel reminder of her dashed hope.

With a choked sob, Y/N got up from the table, feeling completely desolate, her belly hurting from the weight and sobs that made her body shake. She carefully put the food away in the fridge, her hands shaking with disappointment.

That night, Y/N fell asleep in her boyfriend's room with a heavy heart and eyes swollen with tears, wondering if she would ever have the courage to take some initiative, before it was too late.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was standing in front of the cinema, her heart full of expectation as she held a bucket of popcorn in her hands. She looked from side to side nervously, trying to spot Chris among the crowds rushing along the sidewalk. Time was running out, and her nervousness increased as the clock on her phone showed just ten minutes until the start of the movie, and her boyfriend still hadn't appeared.

And then, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, Y/N's phone vibrated, indicating a new message. She grabbed the device anxiously, hoping to see an apology or explanation from Chris for the delay. But what she heard was something that made her shake with rage.

"Hi, baby." Chris’s voice sounded through the voicemail, but instead of an apology, there was a note of indifference in his words. "I know we planned to go to the movies today, but a last-minute party came up that I really need to go to. Do you remember Tara Yummy? It's hers! Well, I'm sorry for canceling like that at the last minute. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Bye."

Y/N felt her world collapse upon hearing those words. Chris's betrayal, his indifference to her feelings as he sent her the message just to break her as if it was some kind of promise, cut like a sharp knife. She clutched her phone tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Anger and sadness consumed her, bubbling inside her chest like a volcano about to erupt. With a cry of frustration, Y/N threw the bucket of popcorn and the tickets into the nearest trash bin, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she felt suffocated by disappointment and pain.

And that night, Y/N walked away from the cinema, her heart broken and her confidence destroyed.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Chris." She began, shaking her head gently to shake the memories away, her voice trembling with the anguish she carried. "We need to talk."

Chris looked up from his phone for a moment, his tired eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the bright screen in his hands.

"Not now, Y/N. I'm busy."

Those words hit Y/N like a punch in the stomach. She felt increasingly isolated and neglected, while Chris's world revolved around his career and his influential friends.

"You're always busy, Chris." Y/N murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. "There's never time for us."

Chris sighed, irritation rising across his skin like a shiver. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at the girl again, giving her a look full of hatred, which she had never seen before.

"I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that. I can't just ignore my work to pay attention to you."

"I'm not asking you to ignore it." Y/N snapped, her voice rising in desperation. "I'm just asking for a little time for us. For our relationship. Yesterday you-"

Chris shook his head quickly, interrupting her, the traces of frustration deepening on his face.

"I already said I'm sorry! You always do this, Y/N. You're always trying to change who I am and what I do. You always try to change my priorities, like my world has to revolve around you. That's not how things work!"

Those words cut Y/N like a sharp blade, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wasn't trying to change him. She just wanted to feel like he cared about her as much as he cared about his fame, but instead, he made her feel like a random crumpled up piece of paper.

"I just want you to include me in your life." Y/N whispered, her voice shaking with pain as her eyes blinked repeatedly, her eyelashes slowly becoming wet with tiny droplets from tears. "But it always seems like there's something more important."

Chris snorted, throwing the phone roughly onto his lap and turning abruptly to face her, an expression of disdain filling his eyes.

"You know what? Maybe it would be better if you took some time to think about what you really want, because it seems to me that everything I do isn't enough, and if you're not genuinely happy in this relationship, maybe you should evaluate your preferences!"

Chris' words echoed in Y/N's mind, leaving her stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by a train of conflicting emotions.

With a lump in her throat, the girl stood up from the couch abruptly, her legs shaking under the weight of her grief as her chest burned intensely, anguish gnawing at her insides.

"Maybe you're right." Y/N muttered, shrugging, her voice cracking with pain. "Maybe I need some time to figure out what I really want... Right?"

Chris watched in silence as Y/N walked away, her tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the sobs that wanted to escape.

The brunette frowned, watching his girlfriend's wet cheeks against the cool light of the room, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten, begging to call her back, and apologize, but the words seemed to get stuck.

And so, Y/N left the triplets house that night, taking with her a broken heart and a soul full of uncertainty about the future of their relationship.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The frigid night air bit into Chris' skin as he walked through the empty streets of LA, his body shaking not only from the cold but also from the anxiety and remorse that consumed him. He couldn't bear another night without Y/N by his side, without feeling her comforting touch and hearing her soft laugh filling the silence.

His steps were heavy and slow, each carrying the weight of days of loneliness and regret that piled up on his shoulders. The memory of Y/N's desolate and disappointed face haunted his thoughts, an image that haunted him incessantly, preventing him from finding peace even at bedtime.

Chris knew he had done wrong, that he had hurt the person he loved most in the world with his negligence and misplaced priorities. He blamed himself for his actions, for putting his work and his friends before her, for leaving her alone and helpless at times when she needed him most, or just wanted his company and love.

The mere memory of coming home on Thursday before everything fell apart, and finally seeing all the lost messages from his girl, along with a plate full of his favorite food neatly packed in the fridge made his heart ache as if human hands were squeezing it.

As he made his way through the deserted streets, the silence of the night was deafening, a cruel metaphor for the loneliness he had caused himself. Each step brought him closer to the home that had once been his refuge, the place where he found comfort in Y/N's arms and where he hoped he could right the wrongs he had done.

Finally, the brunette arrived at the door of the small, simple house, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he hesitated to ring the doorbell. He knew he didn't deserve Y/N's forgiveness, that his empty words and broken promises couldn't erase the pain he caused.

But he had to try. He had to show her that he was sorry, that he loved her more than anything in this world, and that he would do anything to have her back by his side.

With a shaky sigh, Chris finally pressed the doorbell and waited, his heart hammering in his chest as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an act of nervousness, the cold of the night penetrating his bones.

On the other side of the door, Y/N hesitated, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to gather the courage to face the stranger that was there. The last few days had been a storm of sadness and loneliness, her mind spinning in circles of anguish as she struggled to understand what had happened between her and Chris, where everything went wrong.

When she finally mustered enough courage to turn the doorknob, what she saw made her freeze in place. Chris was there, standing in front of her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His face was contorted into an expression of pain and regret, and Y/N felt her heart tighten even more at the sight of the person she loved so much in a deplorable state.

"Chris." Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to process the scene before her eyes.

Chris didn't say anything, he couldn't. He just sobbed, thick tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he fought to contain the overwhelming emotions that overwhelmed him. His body shook violently, each sob a painful reminder of all the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks.

Y/N felt tears in her own eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped Chris in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder as she gently stroked his hair, her own tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

For long minutes, they stayed there, lost in each other's arms that transcended the words and hurts. It was as if, in that moment, their wounded souls found a refuge in each other, a source of comfort and peace amid the chaos their lives had become.

"Baby! B-baby, I'm- I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry-" The boy's words came out in broken sobs, his words almost incomprehensible.

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart clenching by her own pain. With a sigh, she pulled away lightly, holding his hand firmly and gently guiding him into her house, closing the door behind them, the warmth of the walls enveloping their cold bodies.

Y/N led Chris over to the living room couch, keeping a cautious distance as he sat down next to her on the cushioned seat. Uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, as Y/N waited patiently for Chris to find the words to express what was in his heart.

Finally, after a long moment, Chris broke the silence, his voice still cracked from his recent crying.

"Baby, I... I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you deeply with my actions, and I never wanted to make you feel that way."

Chris sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to find the right words, his right leg bouncing up and down in anxiety.

"I was so obsessed with YouTube, with my success, that I ended up neglecting the most important thing in my life: you. I got lost in the cool lights and the adrenaline of fame, and I forgot how much you mean to me. And I'm so fucking sorry for that." His lower lip trembled slightly, making him trap it between his teeth.

The boy's words cut deep into Y/N, reigniting the pain and hurt she had kept inside. She felt tempted to step away to protect her heart from the possibility of being hurt again. But something in Chris's eyes made her hesitate, something she recognized as genuine regret and love.

"Chris..." Y/N began, her voice shaky and filled with uncertainty. "You don't understand how much it hurt me every time you kept me waiting, every time you put your work and your friends before me. I felt so alone, so unappreciated."

"I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I would do anything to make things right, to prove that you're my real priority." Chris lowered his head, frowning and fixing his eyes on his legs, guilt weighing on his shoulders.

Y/N raised her right hand, taking it to his chin covered with the beard he had let grow in the last few days, pushing it up so that she could look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation reflected there.

She wanted to believe him and wanted to open her heart to forgiveness and the possibility of a future together again. But the pain of everything that had been done brought her such insecurity that she knew she needed time to heal.

"I don't know, Chris." Y/N murmured, the hand that was holding his chin falling with a thud onto her lap. "I'm still hurt, I'm still trying to process everything that happened. I don't know if I can just forgive and forget."

Chris swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes as his mind screamed at him to do everything, anything. Even if he needed to kneel in front of his girl to get her back.

"Please, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything to make this right, to be the boyfriend you deserve. Just give me a chance to prove that I can change."

Y/N looked at him again, seeing the vulnerability in his gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but there was something about Chris, something she couldn't ignore, something that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to the way they were before.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached her hand out to Chris again, taking his and intertwining their fingers tightly, her heart warming with the touch she had missed so much.

"I forgive you, Chris." She murmured, her voice sounding soft but her eyes carrying an indescribable firmness. "But know that things are going to have to change. Your priorities are going to have to take the right path this time."

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[eccentricallygothic]

When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm. 

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now. 

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor. 

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door. 

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress. 

Not that they would be doing any more of that. 

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you. 

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible. 

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.  

His eyes scan your form. 

Beautiful. 

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time. 

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete. 

It is the people that live in it. 

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal. 

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly. 

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night. 

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life. 

You should have taken notice of the signs. 

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem. 

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 

And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything. 

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened? 

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning. 

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second. 

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside. 

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly. 

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen. 

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?" 

He sighs. 

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions." 

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close. 

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this. 

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back. 

The man is not chasing you like you expected. 

But you don't want to stick around and find out why. 

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door. 

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead. 

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes. 

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused. 

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying. 

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently. 

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one. 

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet. 

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home. 

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands." 

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that." 

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet. 

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone." 

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours." 

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery. 

But you don't know when he does it. 

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern. 

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse. 

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules. 

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes. 

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point. 

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?" 

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning. 

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days. 

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man. 

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep. 

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way. 

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him. 

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him. 

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.  

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day. 

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck. 

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina. 

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever. 

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well. 

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test. 

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence. 

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic. 

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast. 

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken. 

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat. 

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment. 

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining. 

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you. 

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–" 

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy. 

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while. 

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully. 

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape. 

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed. 

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife. 

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

.

What do you think hAH-

[byuntrash101]

the drill

reader x switch!yunho ft. wooyoung and mingi smut | mdni 6.8k yunho cant seem to pick up anyone at the club. for two main reasons, two problems if you will. the first one: his rizz level is negative and the second one... well it's bigger. much, much bigger. a huge problem wooyoung has named "the drill"

nsfw tags under the cut

alcohol consumption, ons to lovers (?), yunho's kind of a loser but so are you, mingi is a fuck boy, woo is the annoyingly clairvoyant friend <3, switch dom leaning!yunho, pushing the monster cock!yunho agenda (consider this fic a peer reviewed academic study), no but seriously he's H.U.G.E., size training, oral (m & f), very difficult blowjob (because duhh), choking on cock (duh x2), a dash of spit kink, fingering, pet names (baby, good girl), praising, protected sex (good job kids), bulge kink, slight edging, slight begging (not my fic without it lol), slight cumplay

a/n: i had a blasttt writing this im pretty happy with this i hope you will enjoy reading it too. thank you @cybrsan for beta reading this. you are so kind and i learned a lot <3

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Yunho didn't even know why he stood here. He didn't know how he let Wooyoung and Mingi drag him to yet an other party. To this packed night club while he originally invited them over to play league of legends, maybe drink a couple of beers and chill. Cause that's what he wanted to do. He wanted to spend a quiet night in, hearing Mingi complain about how he didn't want to play healer anymore and having Wooyoung shatter his eardrums with that infuriating hyena laugh of his.

And that? That was the exact complete opposite of it.

There was nothing quiet and chill about this night. Only one thing was still on the order of business. His ear drums were being damaged beyond repair, not by the high pitched laugh but by the loud and bass boosted blaring noise music. He could already feel the headache coming in.

Yunho brought the lukewarm and flat beer to his lips. He finished the drink with a grimace before setting it on the edge of the bar, his eyes scanning the amalgamation of sweaty bodies grinding and pressing against each other.

"Why the long face?" Wooyoung asked as he slipped to his tall friend's side.

Yunho sighed and chose to answer the question with another one.

"Why did you bring me here again?" He asked, round eyes turning sharp as he peered at the younger man.

"Oh I don't know," Wooyoung started sarcastically. "Maybe to drag you out of your cave for once?" He replied in disbelief, he should be grateful he’s being such a good friend to him!

Yunho only rolled his eyes and grunted in annoyance at his response. Why did he care this much that he enjoyed staying in and being on his own? 

"Look at Mingi," Wooyoung said over the music. Yunho followed his gaze to glance at his other friend on the other side of the club. "He knows how to have a good time!" Wooyoung said with a smirk.

Yunho quirked his eyebrow as he observed Mingi chatting up not one but two girls. Whispering something in one girl's ear while he curled his arm around the waist of the other one. Making them both giggle and look up at him while he peered at them over his sunglasses. 

Mingi was Yunho’s friend. Maybe even his best friend but… he looked like a douche.

"What kind of guy wears sunglasses inside… at night?" Yunho spat.

"The kind that gets bitches," Wooyoung remarked, jabbing at Yunho. 

"Fuck off Woo," Yunho barked at him. 

Yeah so what? Yes it had been a hot minute since he found himself being… intimate with a girl but it wasn't his fault! It was only because of his… issue…

"Come on dude. You don't have to stay bitchless, you know?" Wooyoung nudged his tall friend. "Why don't you try your luck with one of the dozens of women here that came for the same thing as you?"

"I," Yunho emphasized. "Did not come for that." He cleared his throat. "And you know I never get very far Woo!" He barked again. Truthfully Wooyoung was getting on his nerves.

"Bro! There's no way you can't find just ONE girl here that would be willing to take on the drill?"

Yunho shushed him and looked around him frantically as if anyone could have heard him over the blaring music.

"I already told you not to call it that!!" Of course Wooyoung only laughed at his friend's concern.

"I'm sorry but it's only the truth. Like that massive thing can only be handled by a licensed professional." He laughed again.

"Fuck off!" Yunho repeated, unconsciously crossing his hands over his lower half. 

“No, but seriously. You just gotta find one that matches the vibe,” Wooyoung said, his eyes narrowing into a sly frown. His gaze wiped over the crowd while Yunho only sighed, turning his back to his friends to go get another beer. 

“Wait,” Wooyoung gripped on his shirt before Yunho had the time to flee his friend’s ridiculous plan. “What about this one?”

The tall man followed Wooyoung’s finger pointing at a girl sitting at the bar, seemingly alone and absentmindedly stirring the mint leaves in her mojito.

“Woo, can you please shut up for a second while I get myself another overpriced beer and try to forget about this conversation forever? Thank you!” Yunho said, exasperated and turning on his heels again.

“No, no, no! Dude,” Wooyoung called him out again, holding his friend by his side. The shorter man rolled his eyes at his tall friend’s stubbornness. “I really have a good feeling about her.” Wooyoung insisted.

“And why is that?” Yunho asked, obvious mockery underlining his tone.

“Look at her, man!” Wooyoung pointed, choosing to completely ignore his friend's sarcasm. “She’s slumping over the bar counter, she’s been stirring her mojito for the past ten minutes but hasn’t had a single sip of it. She keeps looking over at Mingi with a scornful pout and look! In a second she’s gonna check her watch again.” he paused for a second. “See!!” Wooyoung exclaimed and turned to his friend who looked rather unimpressed. “She’s like you, man! She does not want to be here and she’s at least as lonely as you.”

Yunho frowned at the younger man, that last bit was totally unnecessary. 

“Plus, she’s pretty! I know she’s your style.” Yunho frowned in an attempt to deny Wooyoung but it was true. Wooyoung felt like he was gaining the upper hand in the negotiations so he continued.

“You should go talk to her. Just talk!” Wooyoung added when he saw Yunho open his mouth to protest again. “I mean just talk, see if it goes anywhere and if it doesn't, then it doesn’t and I promise I’ll kick Mingi’s ass back into the car and drive us all home right that second!” He pledged.

Yunho looked over again at his tall friend and his two targets of the night. Even though Mingi was considerably taller and bulkier than Wooyoung he knew about the latter’s determination and sheer force of will that would turn any wolf into a sheepish puppy. So he didn’t doubt one second that he would be doing just that.

But first at had to “shoot his shot” with… you.

The girl moping at the bar, as if a rain cloud was perpetually following her around. And there was a good reason for it. You recently got dumped. Your friends took you out to this club to celebrate and hopefully get you over him. Truthfully, you had felt relieved because Jongho was just a jerk to you and you have been slipping out of love for a while but still! It hurt that you had to come to the realization that it was over for real this time around.

Granted you were in fact single but you were not so ready to mingle…yet. At some point in the evening they got tired of trying to cheer you up and just left you at the bar to enjoy the company of your little rain cloud by yourself.

“You don’t look like you’re having a great time either,” Yunho said, ordering another beer for himself. The deep voice pulled you out of your day dreaming as you looked up at him with round eyes. “Can I sit here?” he asked and you nodded silently. He didn’t let it show but he’s actually kind of relieved you didn’t turn him down on the spot.

“Yeah I'm not having the time of my life that’s for sure,” you sighed, clinking the melting ice cubes against the glass with your soggy paper straw.

“Why?” Yunho asked while casually wiping his sweaty palms over his distressed jeans.

You bit your lip. Trauma dumping about your not-so-prince-charming jerkface of an ex to a total stranger wasn’t probably the best idea in the world even if the alcohol in your system said otherwise, luckily you still had far too few drinks to start this conversation. So you opted for the easy going explanation.

“My friends ditched me for Mr. Tall-Douchebag over there.” 

Yunho followed your gesture to Mingi bending over to whisper something in a girl's ear as he slid his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose while his other hand held onto the other girl’s bare waist, rubbing his thumb on her skin as she giggled, the cropped top she was wearing not concealing the patch of skin there.

Mingi was Yunho’s friend but he was also a dog. And that was just the plain truth despite the fact that their friendship went back to middle school.

“Yeah that guy looks like an asshole,” Yunho said in all sincerity.

“No shit,” you scoffed “What kind of giga chad wears sunglasses in a club… at night?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and finally brought your straw to your lips to take a sip of the diluted mojito.

Yunho started to laugh. Maybe Wooyoung wasn't wrong after all. There was something about you that was right for Yunho, somehow your vibes matched. He even started to relax ever so slightly next to you.

“But did you say ‘either’?” you questioned. “Does that imply you too are not having a grand ol’ time?”

Yunho chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, no. Not really,” he confessed as he grabbed the beer the barman was handing out and shoved a couple of wrinkled bills in his hand in exchange.

You returned the mojito to the bar counter and turned to him, now that he was seeing you a little better you were indeed pretty, prettier than what the bar’s red and purple neons were leading on from a distance. But up close Yunho realized Wooyoung was right about that too, you were his type. 

He swallowed thickly, your undivided attention brought back a sense of nervousness into him and he sipped on his beer for a small dose of liquid courage. “I invited a couple of my friends over and we were supposed to stay in and play League but instead they ganged up on me and dragged me here,” he sighed. 

That was the truth! Yunho only carefully omitted all the parts where his friends made him sound like a lonely loser. So that wasn’t a lie! It was curated truth. He sipped on his beer once again to ease his nerves.

You gasped loudly and Yunho’s eyebrows arched in surprise at your reaction.

“Oh I wished I would have done that too,” you pouted, before taking another sip. “And how did they convince you to end up here then?” you asked once again, setting the glass down and looking up at the tall brunette seated next to you.

Uh oh.

That was bad. Yunho wasn’t actually the best at performing under pressure. And especially when said pressure was looking at him with beautiful shiny lips and such a wholesome and genuine smile.

“Well I-...uh,” Yunho started to stammer which seemed to entertain you as the genuine smile turned into an amused little grin. The tall man brushed his long bangs back in an attempt to regain his composure which worked to some extent. “I’ve been on my own for a while, too long if you listen to my friends and they said that maybe they could find me a nice girl to… keep me company,” he said before clearing his throat and attempting to push the lump in his throat back with two large gulps of cool beer.

Wow, that was lame. So much for not sounding like a total loser…

“And I'm the nice girl you settled for?” you asked, breaking eye contact. Yunho felt uneasy again, he couldn't make of your expression right there. Did he blow his chance by being too sincere with you? And why did he feel so bad that he just might have? Did he want to impress you that bad? When initially he only wanted to exchange a couple of sentences just to call it quits and get Wooyoung to drive him home but now was he actually trying?

“Too honest maybe?” Yunho said before pinching his lip between his teeth as you shrugged nonchalantly and took another sip. 

Yes, maybe a little too honest indeed you thought as you sipped on the drink that was basically only water at this point. You were just another girl that was to be used to feel a little less lonely…

“Ughh. I suck at this,” Yunho groaned in frustration.

“At what?” you asked, his tone peaking your curiosity right when you thought you had figured him out.

“At this!” Yunho said, gesturing at the air between the both of you. “At chatting up pretty girls! At flirting!” He sighed again, feeling defeated.

Key word: pretty. 

You grinned, you too felt lonely and you figured there was no harm in helping each other out. For tonight at least.

“It’s okay,” you said, suddenly wrapping your hand around his, tightly holding the beer pint. Which made him stiffen in the uncomfortable bar stool. “I don't really like the smooth talkers anyways.” You sent him a cheeky wink and Yunho felt like his stomach had somehow acquired a trampoline. 

“Really?” he said, lips going round in surprise, eyes snapping to where you were rubbing small circles on the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, satisfied with the effet this simple touch had on him. “I’m not really into fuck boys,” you said, gesturing to the tall man in sun glasses once more.

Yunho knew you were referencing Mingi again but he didn’t have it in him to peel his eyes off you to look at him. His eyes traveled from your hand, up the curve of your arm, to the low neckline of your beautiful black dress (where he stayed longer than he intended) and finally (with much effort) to your own eyes fixated in his. Yunho was mesmerized, like a shipwrecked sailor being bewitched by the chant of a siren, like a parched pariah catching sight of an oasis on the horizon after days of wandering in the desert. 

“So…” he started hesitantly, his heart beating against his ribs and resonating in his ears. “If I offered you a ride home to get out of this hell hole and get to know each other, would you maybe say yes?” 

It wasn’t a coincidence that Yunho spoke in the conditional tense. He didn’t want to jinx himself, he never was the superstitious kind but as he was experiencing this streak of luck with you he found himself to be. 

You chuckled again at his cuteness. 

“Yes,” you said, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously. “Yes, I would.”

***

It wasn't long before you found yourselves tangled up into each other on your couch, your last drinks getting warm on the coffee table, barely even touched.

To your surprise, Yunho’s hold was gentle and patient. You felt comfortable in his arms as his warm and large palm gently pressed against your nape. His soft lips finding yours and pulling you in this delicate kiss, almost like a good morning kiss. It isn't rushed at all, like he has the whole day (or in this case night) to get to know you and to give you a thousand more. If he really was as touch deprived as he claimed to be he wasn't letting it on at all.

That raised suspicion on your side and you broke the kiss. Immediately Yunho’s eyes fluttered open and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worry taking over his features again.

“So,” you start, slightly shifting in his hold. “Tell me why you said you weren’t good at flirting again?” you say as you plant a soft kiss in the crook of his neck, making his Adam's apple bobble in his throat. He could feel himself getting hard and you felt his fingers lightly twitch around your nape. “Because to me it seems like you are pretty good at it.” You licked a large swipe on his blazing skin and drew back to look at him. “I mean, less than an hour ago I was moping on my own in the club…” you slipped your hand up his shirt to undo the first button. “And now I'm all over you, kissing you and about to do much more,” you whispered softly. The promise of what’s to come had Yunho’s length jumping between his thighs. 

“I thought you’d be all over me, tearing my clothes off the second I got to lock the doors. But there you are taking your sweet time. It doesn't add up.” You popped off another button and slipped your hands over his collar bone.

Yunho was torn between the heat that pooled in his stomach with every single one of your touches and the actual dread he felt to move things forward. Because he knew all too well what usually happened at this point of the story. 

And although it was actually fear that kept him from tearing every single article of clothing clean off your body, you mistook it for some kind of elaborate plan to get you alone.

“I’m actually pretty nervous, that's why I haven’t done… a lot more,” he said, hesitantly.

“About what, baby?” you cooed, latching your lips on his skin again, earning a cute little whimper, your fingers working their way down to the last couple of buttons still holding his shirt together.

The pet name made Yunho’s heart sing, thousands of butterflies launching in his stomach, sending waves of tingles towards his groin. 

“Because this is usually where it stops.” He let out a shaky breath as you pushed the cotton off one of his shoulders and let your fingertips drag across his soft skin, going down to his collarbone to his pecs to his abs. “Because the girls usually leave at this point.”

“Why?” you said, lips still pressed to his skin, hands reaching the button of his jeans.

“Because I’m…” Yunho hissed as your other hand came in to play with his nipple while you still went down, your hand brushing over the jeans. “Because I’m too big.”

There. He said it.

This coincided with the moment your hand laid over the colossal bulge in Yunho’s pants. You couldn't help but to stop everything, you stayed there frozen upon your discovery.

Yunho could only close his eyes shut as he felt you immobile all of a sudden. 

Well, it was fun while it lasted at least.

“I can go if you want me to,” he said as neutral as possible, but he couldn't help but let disappointment tint his voice. He can’t explain why but it felt different this time, he really wanted it to work with you. He wanted you.

“No!” you said as you held onto him when he shifted to get out of your hold and onto his feet. “Wait,” your fingers gliding over the bulge, moving once more. Instantly he sat down again against you. You cupped him, gauging the size and evaluating the challenge at hand, said challenge generously spilling out of your grasp as it could not be contained within your palm.

“We could at least try, right?”

“Really?” he exclaimed, before letting out a choked gasp as your grip grew a little tighter.

“Yeah,” you sighed, still gently rubbing over his hard on. “I’m determined and stubborn and my parents didn't raise no quitter,” you said, trying to throw some humor onto this to deescalate the situation and it did the trick.

“The only thing is… I don't think I have a condom that would fit you,” you say, suddenly bashful.

“Oh… hm. I brought mine” Yunho started to pat his pockets hastily. “It’s in my wallet, in my vest, in the… car,” he said, voice growing quieter as he realized he will have to go get it.

You then hopped on your feet. Yunho's hips instinctively bucking up, chasing the friction.

“How about you go get it and come back to meet me in the bedroom?”

Yunho only nodded vigorously before you turned on your feet and walked to one of the closed doors of the hall, he couldn't stop his eyes from falling down to look at your ass roll in the black dress as you walked away. You turned back before disappearing behind the door.

“Don't take too long, ok?” you teased him with a smile.

Yunho didn’t need more to snap him out of his trance and run, no, fly to his car. He barged in the hallway of the apartment complex, not even trying for the elevator, he knew with his long legs he'd be faster if he took the stairs. So he flew over the two flights of stairs and ran to his car to practically rip the wallet from the inner pocket of his coat and stuffed the condom in his back pocket before swallowing the two flights of stairs again and coming back into the apartment, short of breath. 

As afraid as he was a couple of minutes ago to go faster with you, now every second where he didn't have you to himself felt like an eternity.

The apartment was completely dark except for a ray of light that was coming from under the door you disappeared behind. Yunho velvet traded across the living room to the hall and to the door, guided by the line of light, the golden thread he ought to follow to reach heaven.

He delicately pushed in. And he felt like he had opened Pandora's box. He found you completely nude, waiting cross legged on the edge of your bed for him. The dim light from the nightstand sweeping across your form and casting the otherworldly shadow of your divine outline onto the wall. You were absolutely sublime. A sight that went straight to his groin, pumping brand new and boiling blood to his half hard member. 

You sat up straight putting both your feet flat on the ground as Yunho approached you. You held your palm flat to him without a word and he handed over the magnum condom in a black and gold packaging. You settled it on the nightstand before bringing your attention back to the elephant (quite fitting term) in the room. 

Now that he was standing close to you and you were really at eye level with the thing you were really getting a feel for it. Yunho was indeed really big, the thick outline of his length progressed way down his pant's leg making it impossible to miss. 

You gently undid the button of his jeans and pulled on his zipper, the vibrations on his length making him frown, completely entranced by your hand moving on him.

You hooked your fingers onto the waistband of the pants and his underwear and very gently pulled the fabric down, Yunho’s open shirt still floating as his sides. Gradually you had a peep at the trimmed hair of his pubic bone and then you uncovered the base of his cock. He was incredibly girthy and it only got bigger as you continued to pull on his pants. It was only when you were mid thigh that the member sprung free infront of your face and you audibly gasped at the size. 

The girthy member sat heavily between Yunho’s thighs, the tip an angry shade of red and profusely leaking at the slit. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't have masked how eager he was for you. His cock has been leaking ever since you got in his car and he got to smell your flowery perfume without the parasitizing smell of smoke and alcohol from the club. But that he couldn’t possibly say out loud.

He held his breath when you wrapped both your hands around his base, his cock twitching at the minimal contact of your fingers interlaced around him. You were still measuring him, getting an idea. He was as long as your forearm and as thick as your fist. 

In other words, he was ridiculously big. If he had said one hour ago when you were back at the club that he was walking around with a literal third leg you would have laughed in his face and left him there. But now that you were seeing it with your very eyes, it was different.

Yunho grew nervous as you stayed there eyeing him down with this puzzled expression.

“So what do you say?” He asked, his toes wiggling on the carpeted floor nervously. 

You didn’t even say anything back, only aimed the tip at your lips and started to lick around the sensitive cock head. Yunho emitted the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as he let his head roll back, his large palm instantly finding your hair to intertwine his fingers with it.

You licked around the tip thoroughly, earning more airy sighs from the brunette before you pursed your lips and sent a big wad of spit on his length. Making him moan a little clearer as you dragged your warm spit down to his base with both hands. You spat again to make sure to lubricate him thoroughly, before taking him in your mouth.

As soon as your lips wrapped around the tip, you heard Yunho softly curse from above you. Your lips stretched around the girthy tip with difficulty and slid down as far as you could manage until he hit the back of your throat, and you weren’t even halfway through. 

But Yunho didn't mind, it was the first time somebody even got that far and he swore he could have cum just by the look you gave him when your eyes snapped back to him and he saw your pretty face stuffed full of his fat cock, hair slightly disheveled by his doing, eyes glazed over with unspilled tears and your beautiful lips stretched to an unbelievable extent. 

You felt him twitch on your tongue before you popped him out, taking a deep breath and going down again. His free hand dipped down to play with your breasts, he cupped them and flicked your hardened nipples a couple of times making you moan on his cock. 

“Fuck baby,” he breathed. “Your mouth feels so good,” he panted. The praise made you confident enough to push your head a little further down, his cock reaching down to a brand new depth inside your throat.

“Fuckkkk,�� Yunho sighed his hand on your hair holding you there for a second, just long enough for him to feel your gag reflex triggering and your throat clamping down on his cock trying to reject the massive foreign object that was obstructing your air pipe. When he pulled out again long strings of thick saliva linked your red and swollen lips to the raging tip of his cock and you coughed a couple of times, choking, the air burning your sore throat.

“Need you on my tongue right now. Wanna taste you,” he whispered as he practically tore the shirt off his shoulders and slipped out of his pants. He carefully pushed you towards the bed so you would be laid on your back and very gently his big hands wrapped around your thighs to pull them apart to finally lay eyes on your center. 

Yunho licked his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening folds covered with your slick, the transparent liquid cascading from your entrance and running down your thighs, some even staining your bedding. He swiped a single finger on your slit, gathering some of your arousal.

“Fuck, baby you got this wet just by having my cock in your mouth,” Yunho smirked when he noticed you twitched at his words. So you liked a little dirty talk, that was good to know. He brought the digit covered with your essence to his mouth, moaning against his own fingers as your sweet and velvety nectar enveloped his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste so good.”

Yunho pulled on your hips so your ass would sit at the edge and he kneeled on the ground. He planted a couple soft kisses on your inner thighs and pubic bone, making you squirm, itching to be touched in the right places. Maybe next time he’ll make you beg for it but today he needed you as much as you needed him.

He gently wrapped his mouth around your clit, taking the swollen bud into his mouth and sucking on it gently. Your reaction was immediate, it has been quite a long time since you have felt the touch of somebody else and Yunho was good at what he was doing. 

He went down to dip his tongue inside of you, parting your folds with his tongue and tasting the deepest parts of you, you arched your back and let his name fall off your lips.

“Aaah, hmph… Yun-ho,” you struggled to say as you unconsciously started to roll your hips against his face, smearing your juices over his cheeks and chin.

The way you called out his name and fucked yourself back on his face, shamelessly using his mouth to chase after your high had him leaking on the floor, as his aching cock sat heavily between his thighs.

That’s when he chose to stick two long fingers inside your tight heat, making you moan louder and stop dead in your tracks. You don't know how he managed that but he somehow found the perfect angle right away, curling the two digits right into your sweet spot, so you stayed put, exactly where you were while he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

He alternated between fast strokes then slower ones when he rolled his fingertips inside you teasing your g spot, to then go back to the quicker pace. Taking you on this rollercoaster of pleasure where he made you go up and down but never to your peak. 

Yunho had no intent on making you cum, at least not right now, now he only wanted to prep you to take him inside you. He was stretching you out as much as possible to make sure he could fit his huge cock inside your tiny little pussy. 

You had figured out that much but that didn’t keep you from slowly growing frustrated and therefore hungry for more. Much more.

So he slipped a fourth finger in.

At this point your body was covered with a light sheen of sweat making you beautifully glisten as the dim night stand lamp shone on you. 

You gasped at how full you felt, arching your back, your hands fisting the sheets as you called his name again.

“You’re doing so good.” He pressed a soft kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “My good girl,” he cooed before he started to swirl his tongue around your clit, making your cunt clamp harder around his fingers.

You felt yourself throb at the possessive pronouns. You both knew you weren’t his. But for the both of you it was what felt good. You’ll have plenty of time to feel lonely again in the morning. Just for tonight you belonged to each other. 

Your hands flew between your thighs where your fingers untangled with the long strands of brown hair, tugging at it, your frustration getting the best of you. 

Yunho enjoyed the dull burn on his scalp as he kept on abusing your swollen bud, sucking, licking and flicking it. Until he felt you throb on his tongue. But before he could finish you he felt you pull on his hair hard enough for him to look up at you.

You were panting, your chest heaving up and down, disheveled from thrashing your head around and pushing it back into the mattress.

“Wanna cum on your cock,” you urged, panting, as plainly as that. After all of this teasing, you wanted to save your appetite for the main course. 

Yunho could have bursted and cum all over the carpet with just those words. But instead he got back up and grabbed the rubber from your night stand, tearing the wrapper away and rolling the condom down his huge cock.

When he came back between your thighs he laid his cock on your stomach, and that's when you fully understood what you got yourself into. The sheer weight of the thing was in itself impressive but that was nothing compared to the size of it. It reached all the way to your midriff, the massive thing laying menacingly on your bare, sweaty skin.

Yunho then took the thick base in his hand and rubbed his tip at your entrance, coating it with your slick.

“You ready?” he asked, cheeks taking a pink hue, flashing you the most adorable of coy smile as if he wasn’t tongue fucking you a second ago. You only nodded, bracing yourself. Scared but foremost eager to be filled up again.

“Try to breathe, okay?” he advised right before he started to push himself inside you. Instinctively you let out a whine at the way your walls stretched around him as he gradually, very gently pushed his huge cock inside. You caught your lip between your teeth as your brows met on your forehead. Yunho was very attentive and didn't blink once to make sure he could read your micro expressions, so he could adapt the pace. He knew when to let you take a breather and when to keep pushing in. So when you let out a small cry and your hips jerked upwards slightly, he stopped.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, soft voice laced with concern. 

“Well the obvious answer is yes.” You chuckled softly at his adorable worried expression. “But at the same time… It feels so good,” you said, half whispering, half moaning. And you felt his cock twitch inside you.

That was the very first time somebody has ever said that to him. He would lie if he said he didn't like that.

“Please keep going,” you said, whiny tone bordering on begging. 

“Fuck baby,” Yunho breathed out. “Say that again.” His voice was somewhat urgent.

“Please Yunho, fill me up, I wanna feel you all inside of me.”

Yunho cursed under his breath again. He didn't need more to push the last couple of centimeters inside you. And just like that you’re full of him. He flipped both of your legs on his sturdy shoulders and leaned forward to kiss you. The softness is masked by the state of extreme urgency in which you both find yourselves in, the kiss is messy, sloppy, heated. Your teeth grazing against each other before you stuck your tongue out to let Yunho suck on it, you taste yourself on his tongue making you light headed before you bit on Yunho’s bottom lip to let it snap back against his teeth.

“Please fuck me,” you whispered against his teeth.

“Anything for you, baby.” 

He started to pull out gently and pushed in again, with each thrust he went faster, his large frame still laid over you as he fucked you in the mating press. The position was just perfect, with both his feet firmly on the ground, Yunho had great control over his movements and could easily adjust the pace as a plus the angle was absolutely divine.

You whined and whimpered and cried with each stroke, his big cock perfectly brushing and poking at your soft spot, deep, deep inside you. A spot nobody had ever been able to reach, not even yourself. The new found source of pleasure made you cry out in bliss, your cunt taking a vice grip around Yunho’s huge cock.

“Fuck,” you yelped. “You’re so…aaah… big,” you moaned. “Feel so good inside me. Please keep going. Fuck me please,” your words were slurred, you barely made any sense but it didn’t matter. Yunho knew exactly what you meant.

“You’re so good, baby. So good to me.”

He moaned against your mouth, prying your jaw open with his thumb and letting his tongue slip into your mouth, his warm spit running down your tongue. You swallowed his saliva, along with each of his pants and grunts. The way you felt around him was surreal, your wet sopping cunt coating him with your slick making it so easy to slip in and out of you, so much so that at some point he found himself absolutely drilling into your cunt completely losing himself inside you. The lewd wet noises bouncing off the small dark room as he rearranged your guts.

“I won't last for long,” he whined, eyes closing shut as he tried his best not to burst.

“I’m almost there,” you said, your legs tensing up and wrapping around Yunho’s hips.

He stood back up straight and put one hand on your waist firmly gripping your side to pull you back on his cock every time he thrusted in. Admiring the outline of his cock poking inside of your stomach creating a visible bulge with every snap of his hips. He laid his large hand over your stomach, lightly pressing, making you yelp and feeling every come and go as his thumb found your swollen and throbbing clit.

The sudden pleasure made you cry out a sob. Yunho started to play with your clit as he was deep inside your guts. Drawing tight circles on it, teasing it so perfectly that you grew even tighter around him.

“Please be my good girl and cum for me,” he said in a strangled moan, knowing he could only last for a few more seconds. Snapping his hips into yours, making your tits jump with each powerful thrust. “God please, please cum,” he begged in a desperate little whimper, as he wanted nothing than to make you cum but he also knew he could only keep up for a few more agonizingly long (at least to him) seconds.

That's when you crossed the edge, your walls fluttered around his big cock as you reached your peak, white heat radiating from your core to each of your limbs, making your body shake uncontrollably and your cunt grip into Yunho’s length like its life depended on it. You were completely delirious with pleasure, the earth shattering orgasm washing over you and convincing you the monstrous cock plowing into you had definitively ruined you for anyone else. You didn’t see how you could ever be satisfied again with any other cock.

The twitch of your cunt is Yunho’s queue to finally let go as well. He pulled out of you and ripped the condom away. He only had to give it a couple of strokes before cumming all over you. Thick white ropes of burning hot cum spurting out of his slit and crashing on your heated skin. Yunho had never cum so hard, his cock is like an open tap. Squirting cum all over your stomach, your tits and some powerful spurts even reaching your pretty face, which you hurriedly lick off your lips and chin. Making Yunho’s huge cock twitch in his balled fist.

He nearly collapsed when he’s done, his legs suddenly turning into jelly. But he still managed to haphazardly wander into the bathroom to give you a clean washcloth he found and even goes back to the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

After that he blacked out next to you, completely drained (in more ways than one). You chuckled next to him when you heard him snort softly as you set your still half full drink on the nightstand and switch off the light. Naturally finding your place snuggled up against him.

***

The incessant vibrations of his phone abandoned in the pocket of his jeans was what woke up Yunho the next morning. He got off the bed half asleep and picked the device to answer the call. Because he was still in a daze he didn’t check the caller but he definitely should have when he heard Wooyoung yell at the end of the line.

“SO DID YOU GO BACK TO HER PLACE??? DID SHE SURVIVE THE DRILL?????” he shot out question after question, not taking the time to breathe between each one. Yunho shushed him right away, looking back over his shoulder at your sleeping figure.

“Shut up! she’s sleeping!” Yunho said as he struggled to turn down the volume on his phone.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” the speaker resonated even louder. “Come by to my place we’re going to brunch, you’ll tell me all about it and then I promise I’ll play all the League you want for the rest of eternity!” Wooyoung pledged as Yunho chuckled. That's exactly why he loved him.

“Brunch and then League?” Yunho heard your groggy voice from behind. “That sounds fun…” 

“I’ll call you back,” Yunho briefly said before hanging on a screaming Wooyoung. He beamed at you. 

“Wanna come with?”

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

a/n: oooffff omg that was something. i had so much fun writing this and omg i loved yunho in this he was so cute but hot ughhhhh. tell me if you liked it. that would make me so happy and i will def kiss u if do <3333

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[nezuscribe]

𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you have everything you could have asked for in life. a beautiful home in greenwhich, just far away from london so that you don't have to mingle with city life, but close enough to be surrounded by the ton. a library with all the books you could ask for and a friend you care for dearly. all except for the man of your dreams, who just so happens to be your best friends brother. worst of all, he only sees you as such. his sisters best friend. (bridgerton!au)

warnings: 18+ mdni, gojo doesn't know how to communicate his feelings, slight angst (with comfort), smut, eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, (happy ending)

word count: 17.3k+ (i have no idea how)

note: yes, this is inspired by penelope and colin. yes, i know that colin isn't a viscount. their story is coming out later than expected so i took matters into my own hands. tysm @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! (if you saw this the first time no you didn't, i hope tumblr doesn't glitch out again)

jjk masterlist

You had a great life, as far as it went. 

You were born into a wealthy family, far more wealthy than they deserved to be. You had maids at your beck and call and did not need to worry about the future as long as you acted correctly. You had book upon books, as many as you could dream of, so long as you didn’t bore your mother too much with them. You had any sort of food you could dream of and you had the most caring friend in the world who loved you very much. 

Honestly, what more could a woman ask for?

“I say we move the whole ordeal to Friday, seeing how Satoru is only arriving on Wednesday. But my mother insisted that we keep in on Thursday because the rest of London just couldn’t wait to see my dashing brother…” Lily continued her furious rant as she paced back and forth the vast expanse of your family’s drawing room, shaking her head in clear frustration. 

“And you want it to be a day later…because…?” You sipped quietly on your tea, trying to keep your smile at a minimum. It was hard not to get giggly when Lily’s face got red and her eyes bugged out of her sockets. For such a pretty girl it tended to shift her features whenever she got angry or annoyed. 

“Well, he’s going to be tired!” She stopped her pacing as she stared at you with her mouth a bit open as if it were the most obvious answer, “And whenever Satoru is tired he’s so difficult to deal with. He’s going to want to talk about his travels for at least three days before he’s ready to mingle with the rest of the works!” 

You nodded heavily, showing her that you were completely on her side. 

“Has he written to you?” She asked and then quickly shook her head, despite the fact you were going to answer with a quiet yes to her question. He had written you a few letters, all of them stashed in your vanity as you read over them, each going over his travels, sometimes sending you little knick-knacks he saw. 

“Not the point. What I’m trying to say is that my mother always goes over the limit with how much she welcomes her children. And Satoru for that matter! Christ, he’s twenty-five and unmarried!” 

You wanted to sink into your seat in embarrassment. You were only so much younger and had never had even an interaction with a suitor before. 

Life was great, for the most part. 

As much as you couldn’t complain, there was a small matter at hand that was growing increasingly more alarming the more the years went on. 

For as long as you could remember, you and Lily were set on never getting married. Ever since she read that one Jane Austen book she was hellbent on independence and no men. You tagged along, seeing how that was a better excuse than admitting no man had even asked you to join him to be his partner to dance before.

Lily didn’t seem to care much for this. While she was set on her celibacy pact, she had been approached before. It doesn’t change much, but it did at least show her that somebody wants her. You were either such as a spinster or married to some ancient man your mother had to dig out from some corner of the market. 

“And Satoru…” Lily rambled on, but all it did was remind you of an even worse fact. 

You were terribly in love with her brother. 

You have known the Gojo family for ten years, five months, twelve days, and two hours, and you have been in love with Gojo Satoru for ten years, five months, twelve days, and thirty minutes. 

Their family had immigrated from Japan months before the oldest child was born, but they had only moved to Greenwich ten years, five months, and ten days ago. You met them only two days later when you accidentally wandered into their gardens, unknowing that a family had just moved in. 

The first time you met that particular Gojo, you were thirteen and facing serious issues with yourself and your own family. You wanted to move to America in hopes that the boys over there would fancy you more and your mother forbade it. Satoru laughed when he saw your horrified face popping up from their blackberry bush, definitely not expecting to see anybody there. 

“Hello there,” the stranger called out. You thought he was a grandfather with the way his hair was artic white, but he only seemed to be a bit older than you the closer he got. 

“I’m not stealing from you I swear!” You cried out as you let the blackberries tumble out of your stained hands. You cannot be taken to prison, you simply wouldn’t survive. 

“I can see that.” He crossed his arms as he tried not to laugh at the way your dress was stained a dark blue color. 

He introduced himself, and Lily, and soon, you and the girl were attached at the hip. 

It didn’t help that as kind and as charming as he was, he only saw you as his sister's closest friend. It also didn’t help that every other woman in high society seemed to be in love with the man and it certainly made it so much more horrific that he seemed to have his eyes on everybody else but you. 

He, much like his sister, was averse to the idea of marriage, but for a completely different reason. 

He seemed to despise the idea of being committed, which is most likely why he had been traveling the entirety of Europe and Asia for the past year or so. Despite his mother’s frantic worrying about setting him up with a respectable lady, he pushed them all aside and fled (in some sense) and will be making his grand appearance a couple of days from now. Everybody is chattering with excitement. You’re trying not to fill with total impending dread. 

It had already taken everything you had to pretend that he didn’t exist and that he had simply disappeared, and you knew your wretched mind would fall for him just as quickly as it did the first time around when you were set to see him next week. 

“...and, are you even listening?” Lily asked, her voice garbling back to life as you snapped your eyes back to hers, covering your mouth with your teacup as you insistently nodded, trying to keep your smile from faltering as she squinted her eyes to look you over and see what was wrong.

“I’m totally in tune with you Lils,” you insisted, nibbling on a cookie to help you with nausea which only seemed to make it worse. 

“Hm,” she grunted, not seeming to believe you but not truly caring as she continued, “And thank the heavens you’ll be there beside me, for who knows what would become of me in such an unruly crowd of men and women just waiting for my brother to make his entrance. I’d lose my sanity.” 

Yes, you thought, how lucky. If only love worked that way, of ignoring it until it faded. If only.

“I’ll be there.” You promised. 

For better or for worse, you’d be there. 

---

The ball was just as you had imagined it. 

Extravagant, elegant, large, and incredibly crowded. 

One of the perks of being an outsider in these sorts of scenes is you didn’t have to dance anymore (no matter how much it stung the first time around getting used to this fact). 

Lily was off somewhere, being forced to socialize. Your other sisters were also lost in the crowd, either dancing or being swooned by a potential match. 

You were yet to see the man of the hour, but then again, so was everybody else. He was either hiding away or being swallowed whole by the hoards of people eager to get a glimpse of him. 

Not that you wanted to see him, of course. Just curious. 

The food was, as always, a bonus. Nobody was going to judge you for scarfing anything down when you had begrudgingly sworn off marriage, and perhaps one of the good things about Lily's pact was that you didn’t care much about the public eye anymore. 

“Please, at least act like we’re not starving you.” Your mother pleaded, unfortunately, stuck to your side for the night as she eyes you and your plate. 

“I’m trying my best,” you reasoned, making sure you didn’t drop anything on your dress. 

“The Viscount is coming tonight,” she tried to think and you snorted, earning some distasteful looks from the widows around you. 

“And he’s just dying to see me, I suppose?” You rolled your eyes at the idea, to help the sting from your own words. It was better to be rationable than to be delusional. 

“Well it doesn’t hurt to-”

“Try?” You cut her off with another laugh as you chew on an eclair, “Might as well. Right after the Princess introduces herself I’ll go up.” The two of you eye the girl in the diamond-encrusted gown with an equally bright tiara on her head. Your mother gave up the argument. 

For the last couple of days, you have been at a mental war with yourself. On the one hand, it surely must mean something if he wrote you letters. On the other one, he wrote it to his entire family and he probably views you as such. No matter how much you want to pretend that the Gojo cares for you, it won’t be in the same way that measures how much you care for him. 

“I’m going to get some more of these macaroons, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself as your mother pressed her lips into a thin line, wanting to push you to dance but knowing no amount of persuading was going to change your mind when it was already set on something. 

Wading through the dense crowd was certainly a feat, but you did it nonetheless. From the dessert table, you could barely make out the pop of chartreuse that was Lily's gown, and you wondered how much longer until she’d be free to giggle and gossip with you. 

Your eyes scanned over the little sweets carefully as you mentally weighed which one would taste good and which one would be a surprise in the kindest sense of the word. The colorful ones were often pretty but they tested either too bland or too bitter and the ones with caramel side sugar tended to be too sweet. All the good macaroons with the pistachio filling were gone, which was odd because you could only count on your fingers how many people aside from you tended to favor that one. 

“Looking for something?”

A green macaron was held in front of your face, slowly forcing you to turn your head in its direction as it began to pull away from you

Him. 

“Oh!” 

Oh? If only you could hit yourself in the head that would be great. 

“Oh?” Gojo chuckled, his brows pinching together in slight confusion at your reaction as his lips threatened to pull into a teasing smile, “I haven’t seen you in a year and that's what you’ve got to say?”

You try not to let your heart flutter at his cheeky manner as you roll your eyes, your smile growing as you take him in. 

He’s gotten taller if that was even possible. His hair is still as white as it was, and it seems that no amount of sun was going to change that. He’s gotten a little bit tanner, no longer that frigid pale hue to his skin that made you worry he’d drop dead at any moment. He’s unfortunately more muscular, which just means you have to cast away the scrawny image you’ve made in your mind in hopes that he’d come back anemic. 

His eyes are just as captivating as ever, blue and inviting. His jaw is sharper and yet he has no facial hair on his face. Which you prefer on most men but you’re glad he’s never given into that trend. 

Most importantly, he still looks like that boy you fell in love with so many years ago, and no time away would ever change you at your core. 

You try to not let your neck prickle with heat as he seems to assess you the same way you're doing to him, try not to feel self-conscious as his eyes roam over your features. Sure, a person can change in a year, but you wouldn’t bet you’ve changed that much that would warrant this amount of staring.

“So…?” 

“‘Toru, hi!” You snap out of your state, watching as his face picks up and breaks into a grin as you set your plate down somewhere, seemingly now realizing that Satoru is here and in front of you, “My, you’ve grown so much!”

“Really?” He looks at his torso and his arms as if he can’t believe it. 

“Well, a bit,” you curse at your awkwardness as he cocks a brow, “I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of my element tonight. I apologize for my earlier reaction.” You duck your head down for a second as he waves it off, hopefully not offended. 

You’re glad this little table is tucked away in an alcove away from most of the public eye, and the only people around the two of you are older people and the people standing outside in the gardens. Either they don’t see the man or they’re being somewhat human and granting the two of you some privacy. 

“Apology accepted, but not needed,” he teases, patting your shoulder affectionately as you try not to act as if that single touch made you reconsider the idea of marriage. 

“How are you?” He asks after a beat, not affected by your out-of-character attitude as he tilts his head to the side. 

“As good I could be,” you offer him a wink that came off as an elongated blink, “Whatever Lily filled you in on has most likely happened to me too.” He chuckles, his laughter the sound of melted honey. 

Fuck, you’re never going to get over him. 

“And you? How were your trips?” You egged him on, eyes tracing him, watching as some pink dusted over his cheeks. 

“Boring. Couldn’t wait to come back.” He says, but you can hear the sarcasm in his voice. Mixed with the way he couldn’t contain his bits of laughter, you laughed alongside him. 

“I’d believe it if not for your tan and newfound outlook on life, or so it seems from how Lily describes it.”

“She exaggerates everything,” he waves it off, and you wonder what that double-edged sword implies. 

“I-”

“He’s here!” You hear a loud voice cut you off as the two of you look over your shoulder to see his mother leading the awaiting princess and her train to where the two of you are standing, “He seems to be getting warmed up with this fine lady!” She says your name as heat rushes to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

It was only seconds before you were surrounded by men and women you had never seen before, all hanging off of Satoru’s words as he scrambled to answer all of their questions. 

And so it begins, you say to yourself as you push away from them, going to find Lily as you wonder why you even try. 

You miss the way he calls out for you, quiet enough so that nobody else hears it, but loud enough that his chest tightens in confusion at the sheer desperation of it. 

---

“I despise men!”

You’re at the Gojo estate for once, and Lily has started a new tirade that has lasted for the last hour. 

“What brought this on?” You press, exchanging worried glances with Satoru and her younger sister as she groans, jamming her palms into her eyes as she vehemently shakes her head. 

“Does this,” she shoves her hand, more importantly, her ring finger without a ring, in front of your face, “Look like I’m keen on getting married to you?”

“No….?” You mutter, scared of what she would say next. 

“Does it look like an invitation to barge into my home?”

“Not exactly,” You say, earning a sympathetic look for Satoru as she glares at him. 

“Does it look like I want to get frisky in the broom cupboards?”

“Christ! Lily, your sisters here!” You shout, jumping to cover the young girl's ears. Lily waves it off and Satoru just chuckles, a twinkle in his eyes as you usher the girl out of the tea room as you slam the door shut. 

“This certainly beats the beaches in Venice,” Satoru says as you near the table again, winking at you as you laugh quietly. 

“I’m so glad I’m not getting married. You should be too,” she points her finger at you as you look up at her, “Men are nothing but evil, money hungry, sex driven-”

“Charming, majestic-” Satoru talks over her as she talks even louder. 

“Dirty animals!” She finishes with a cry. 

You and Satoru share a glance as you try to laugh. She’s not wrong, far from it. The majority of men in this place needed to be sent back to their creator, but Lily had a vein in his forehead that was protruding at an odd angle. 

“You laugh now, but you’ll be thanking me fifty years from now.” She warns as you nod, acting totally compliant with her. 

“You’re still with her on her no-marriage pact?” Satoru asks as he stands up, walking past Lily as he looks out from the window, seemingly admiring the gardens outside. He glances over at you as you sink into the satin cushions beneath you. 

“Yes,” but your answer came out shaky and unsure. 

“Of course she is,” Lily answered for you with a definite nod, “And besides, she’s the luckier one. It’s not like any man has even asked her to marry anyway.” She says jokingly, shoving a biscuit in her mouth as she plops herself down beside you, nudging your shoulder with hers as if it were the funniest thing in the world. 

You wish the sofa could swallow you whole. 

“Hey,” Satoru turns around, brows furrowed as he looks at his sister, but the door opens before he can finish his sentence. 

“Miss Gojo,” their butler, Fred, who you’ve known since you’ve known Lily announces for her as he stands at the foot of the door, “Your mother has requested your presence in her quarters.”

Lily stands up with a groan, wiping the crumbs off of her dress as she makes sure there’s nothing around the corners of her mouth. 

“I’m needed elsewhere,” she pats your arm caring for it despite having her words wanting to make you plummet yourself off of a cliff, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You give her a weak goodbye, watching as she leaves with the door shutting behind her as you sit up a bit straighter, getting ready to leave yourself. 

You stand up, careful not to make any eye contact with Satoru out of sheer embarrassment as you smooth out the wrinkles in your dress, hoping the silence would suffocate you faster than it would him. 

“Lily talks too much sometimes,” he finally says, stepping away from the window as he takes a two closer to your direction, before passing, “I’d apologize on her behalf but I’m pretty sure she’s already forgotten what she’s said.” He tries to lighten the mood and bless his soul, but you can already feel your spirits for the day sour. 

“It’s alright,” you promise, though he seems to disagree but you continue anyway, “I know her, she doesn’t mean it.” Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, a part of you chides. 

“Are you leaving?” He asked, taking another tentative step forward. 

“I was planning on it,” you say with a little chuckle, hoping that your eyes watering up wasn’t too noticeable, “Is that alright with you?”

He looked at you with his bright eyes and just blinked, taking a while to reach his senses. 

“Y-yes! Yes, quite alright. Let me just get my coat…” He muttered, brushing past you as you quickly tried to reject his incoming offer. 

“There’s no need!” You run a bit to catch up to him and his fast pace, “My house is barely two skips away,” you lamely joke, hoping he’d give it up. You wanted to wallow in your self-pity on your walk home, not have to converse with the one man who’d inadvertently give you more to pity over. 

“Not a chance,” he argued, draping the coat in question over his arm, “What sort of person would I be if I let you walk out alone?”

Any other person, you wanted to say but stopped yourself. 

“I don’t mean to bother you…” You wrong your hands in a nervous state, eyes darting everywhere but his. 

You were trying to work on your silly crush this past week, which had unfortunately ramped up ever since he came back. In response, you worked out that the best solution to getting over it was to act like he didn’t exist and ignore him whenever possible. Clearly, it was working out completely in your favor. 

“Not a bother at all.” He insisted, linking his other arms with yours as you jumped a bit in surprise. He was forward, if anything. 

“Fred,” he calls out, getting the butler's attention as you try to hide yourself away, “Tell my mother I’ll be back in a bit.” The man just nods, opening up the front doors as Satoru leads the two of you out. 

The sun was out and working away, which didn’t help with the heat already prickling away through your skin. The Gojo estate was large, but hidden away, and for that you were glad. You could only imagine the gossip that would arise if certain ladies in society were to see you (helplessly) draped over the bachelor's arm. 

“Are you enjoying being back here?” You asked, trying to exert your confidence when you were feeling anything but. 

It’s not like you were unsure of yourself at most times, it’s just that when you’re around the one man you’ve been in love with since childhood and he feels nothing of the sort, you can’t help but be more conscious over everything. 

Satoru looked at you, shrugging as he pursed his lips, thinking of an answer. 

“I missed it,” he says, “But I mainly came back for my family and my friends and well…” He trailed off, chewing on his lip as he waved off his thoughts as if it didn’t matter, “Nonetheless, now that I’ve been around them, I remember why I wanted to leave.” 

And sometimes, despite him not wanting to, made you feel as if you were the most important person he’s had the pleasure of talking to, when in reality that’s just in his nature. 

“Is Lily pestering you too much?” You tease, a little smile on your face that wrinkles the edges of your eyes. He simply stared at you again, his eyes bright. 

“That,” he playfully tugged on your arm, “And the fact that my mother has bombarded me with the idea of marriage. And Luke is having troubles with his fiancé  and Annie doesn’t want to learn to read…it’s all just very chaotic.” He finished with a tired laugh, as if that’s all he could muster up. 

“Seems like a normal day in your house, if I’m being honest.” You lament, kicking a pebble with the point of your shoe. 

“I guess so,” he heaves a sigh that comes out dramatically, “Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve put up with it all these years.”

You scoff, digging your elbow into his side a bit to show that you were offended by his statement. 

“Your family is perhaps the closest thing I have to a second family!”

“And who says family can’t get on your last nerve?” He argued, and that shut you up. He was, indubitably, correct. 

“Yes, well,” you stumble to find some reasoning and he laughs seeing you falter, knowing that he got you cornered, “‘Toru, you are simply a horrible influence to be around.” Is all you can come up with, and despite the severity of your words it only seems to spur him on even more. 

“And yet you can’t seem to get enough of me, can you?” 

You almost stopped in your tracks, your heart seizing in your chest as you try not to fumble up your well-made facade of indifference. 

All you could remember upon his statement were the words he spoke so long ago, not knowing you’d heard them. 

“Charles, you don’t get it, I don’t want a wife!” Satoru exclaimed as he snapped at his friend. It was a gala held at the queen's palace and you had strayed too far away from Lily and found yourself hiding behind a wall as you eavesdropped on the conversation. 

“Not even the Princess?” Another man pushed as you heard Satoru let out a heavy sigh. You peeled around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t want to be tied down. You saw what happened to my parents.” He argued. A part of you sympathized with him. 

“Well,” you could make out this voice as his younger brother, two years older than you he went to thinking, “What about that friend of Lily’s? She seems nice enough.”

The hair on your arm pricked upwards. Surely they couldn’t be talking about you. 

“Who?” Satoru asks and his brother says your name in a hushed whisper, as if you held more weight in your title than the Princess did. 

“Her? No, absolutely not,” he said with such disgust that his friends thought he was joking, “You’re out of your mind if you’d think I’d want to court her.”

Your heart, full of love and hope and dreams cracked, crumbled in your chest. And you left, running away because that’s all you knew how to do and sobbed your eyes out to Lily, stating that you heard somebody talking bad about you, refusing to admit that it was her own brother that was causing you to break in front of her. 

A part of you felt pathetic for still caring for him after that night, but there’s not much fight in you when it comes to the people you loved. You pulled away, sure, and stopped your lame excuses of flirting, but you never stopped. He never found out that you heard, so he continued as your friend and you continued as the shameless woman. 

“Right,” you swallow thickly, glad that your estate is now growing closer and closer, knowing that you feel sick and can’t handle it anymore, “Thank you so much for your help, but I’m sure I can make the treacherous journey on my own now.” 

You wring your hand away from his arm, you smile wobbling as you tip your head in his direction, watching him try to make sense of your quick change in nature. 

“Let me take you up to your door,” he started but you raised your hand to silence him, shaking your head. 

“That would be too much to ask for. I will leave you here…um, Satoru,” you say politely, not noting the way his jaw clenched at your sudden formality when addressing him, “I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”

And you left quickly before he could say anything else. You must stay focused on the reality of your situation;

Your best friend's brother just simply wasn’t in love with you. 

---

“Miss,” 

You perked up from your chair in your quaint little library, setting your book down as you watched one of the maids, Ella, politely calls from the door. 

“There’s a gentleman outside calling for you.”

Your brows furrowed as you found a marker so that you don’t lose your place and purse your lips together in questioning. 

“Do you know who…?” Your head cocked to the side as you stood up, walking near her as you wondered if it were that delivery boy who said he’d come with the new copies of the Brontë books you’d been eyeing for the past month. 

“It’s the Viscount Gojo, miss.” She said simply. 

Your face dropped, and you watched as confusion spread across hers. 

“Him? Here? Did he say what was wrong?” You began to rustle around, trying to find something to throw on top of your slip. 

Did something happen to Lily? Did she run away? Was their mother in trouble? You could recall her telling you that her head was aching, could something serious have happened because of that? Christ, you should have told somebody about it rather than comfort her and make her tea. Was he leaving again? Perhaps-

“He said he wanted to see you miss, that’s all he told me.” She seemed apprehensive, judging your face to see if you were maybe feeling ill due to your reaction. 

“Um, alright, just,” you hurried around, trying your fastest to get to your room, “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes! Don’t tell him I’m preparing myself, just say that I was discussing matters with somebody!” You call out as you sprint across the halls, not hearing any confirmation as you lock yourself in your room, ransacking your closet to find something not too flashy but not too boring. 

It took a good four minutes just to find a suitable dress and another five to make your face and hair look presentable enough as you scampered down the stairs only to find said Viscount waiting in the foyer. 

His face turned to yours as he heard your heels clicking on the marble, growing into a bright smile as he dipped his head down to greet you. 

“Hello,” he said your name with that smooth voice of his as he took his jacket off and kept it on his arm, “I’m sorry for turning up on such short notice.”

“It’s no problem,” you try to catch your breath for the first time in the last ten minutes as your chest heaves slightly up and down, “No problem at all. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He takes a second to respond, eyes scanning your features, your clothing, your chest as it tries to catch a solid breath, and you feel yourself look down to make sure there aren't any noticeable wrinkles in the fabric. 

“I, I just wanted to drop in. See how you were doing.”

You tried not to look even more startled, but your brows creased once again as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek. 

“I’m quite alright…thank you…?” You couldn’t look that out of the ordinary, right?

“Good, that’s good,” he watched as you finished your descent down the stairs, slowly coming towards him as you waited for him to finish, “I’m sorry if I interrupted your conversation with…?” Ella did give him a name you wanted to guess. 

“Lord Cornwallis.” You finished for him, not knowing why that was the first name that came to your mind. It was true that he had been here yesterday, but you didn’t talk much to him in his brief visit. 

“Lord Cornwallis?” Satoru repeated back in shock, his brows shooting upwards as he did nothing to hide his outburst. His face quickly turned into one of disgust, which accurately represented the emotions you felt yesterday when you eavesdropped on the conversation he had with your mother behind closed doors. 

“Yes, you just missed him. He went out through the back door,” why were you making this web of lies even bigger? You have no self-control, do you?

“What was Cornwallis doing here?” 

You but your tongue, having to come up with a lie or tell the truth as to why he had visited yesterday. Either way, both options turned out with horrible results. 

“He asked for my hand.” The truth it was, then. 

His brows seemed to disappear into his hairline as his jaw slacked, mouth wide open. Damn your mind, you should have just lied. 

Lily was wrong in one thing, perhaps. You have gotten a few marriage offers in the last three years, but by all men who were older than your grandfather. You hadn’t even told Lily about them and now you were telling her brother. 

“I…” Satoru couldn’t even find the right words to say. You wanted to bury yourself in a hole. 

“…Cornwallis? Isn’t he-”

“Pushing ninety-nine? Yes.” Nobody was sure of his age, and ninety-nine was perhaps even being too generous. Everybody knew that Cornwallis was simply ancient. 

“Did I save you from the conversation at least? I must say, if there was any man I would wish ill upon, it’s certainly him. He’s a lying old cheat.” He tried to joke again but you swallowed thickly. Perhaps if he came at the same time yesterday he might have. But he didn’t and you had to sit through an hour of him pleading with your mother as the two of you just stared in abject horror and surprise. 

“Yes well, thank you…for doing that.” You lied, cleaning your teeth together as you tried to smile, not wanting to hurt his feelings as you came up closer to him, desperately hoping to change the topic of the conversation. 

“Is everything alright with Lily?” You asked his eyes that were focused on the floor jumping to yours as your lips parted, worry still clear on your face. 

“Yes, of course, I just wanted to ask a favor of you. But, judging from your encounter with men today I would understand if this is pushing it,” he cut right to the crux of the matter. He seemed nervous, which was an odd emotion to see on a man otherwise very confident and sure in himself. It unsettled you. 

You tilted your head, waiting for him to find his words and continue. You could make out the slight blush on his face, the pink hue that spread across his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. He was, by all means, the cutest person you’ve ever seen. 

“My mother's holding another ball, two weeks from now, you see,” his lip caught between his teeth, “And she’s been bugging me about having a date for the night. She wants to appease the rest of the gentry, I suppose. Would you, by any chance, like to be that?” 

You stopped computing his words. 

“...It’s honestly just to get her off my back. And you wouldn’t have to stay with me the entire evening, you could do whatever you’d like after we get some of the necessities over with. Lily was the first who suggested the idea, she said you wouldn’t be doing much other than gossip with her. Of course, if you don’t want to I certainly won’t force the idea, but it’s merely a suggestion.” His blue eyes, ever so convincing and round and caring bore into yours, and despite your better judgment you find yourself nodding. 

“I wouldn’t mind it,” you say a bit breathlessly, completely forgetting about Cornwallis and the way you were debating it and the fact that this means nothing at all, and would most likely cause you more harm than good. 

His nervousness washed away into a big smile, and you cursed yourself at the little flicker of hope you felt deep in your soul as he scrambled to find the right words to say to thank you. The flood of gratitude and appreciation stabbed deeply into your heart as he kept repeating friend, but you were too hopeful for love. 

Your mother always said that loving would always be your greatest weakness. 

---

You should have said no. 

The amount of eyes that were focused on you was enough to make you nauseous, and you couldn’t get sick for you hadn’t had anything to eat today with how hurried everything was. 

Your arm was draped around Satoru’s, and he held tightly onto your hand. He was the image of luxury and charisma right now, and if you were in the crowd looking as he made his way through the crowd you almost would have wanted to bow. 

Time came by a lot faster when you were totally freaking out over it, and before you knew it, you were put in a dress you hadn’t even picked and corseted to the heavens. Your hair was done with extra detail, and they even went as far as putting some Swarovski’s into it so that when the candlelight hit it, you’d sparkle twice as much. 

Satoru, ever the gentleman, had picked you up from your estate as he walked you to their home amidst all the chaos of getting ready for another ball. In all honesty, you have no idea how their mother manages to keep her sanity through all of this.

You were still a bit giddy from your earlier interaction with Satoru, although it didn’t do much to calm your nerves now. 

“I’m sorry for taking so long!” You had said as you rushed down your stairs, careful not to trip over your train as you put your earrings in. Ella said that he was waiting for you downstairs, you just underestimated how early he’d be. 

“Don’t apologize…” He had turned around from admiring a painting, his eyes widening a bit when he saw you. He quickly shut his mouth, but you had already gauged his reaction. You tried not to let it get the best of you, but you could have sworn he blushed more often than usual when you interlinked your arm with his.

“You’re cutting off my blood circulation.” He whispers in your ear as you try to smile, your eyes nervous as they dart around the room. How could it be even bigger than that last ball? Did they suddenly meet thirty new people? 

“Maybe you could cut mine off.” You snap back through your teeth, your hand gripping his wrist as tightly as you could. 

“How are we supposed to dance if one of us is dead?” He grumbles back, putting on a little grin as he makes eye contact with his mother, and then goes back to whispering, “It’s just one song and you’re done. You’ve done this before.”

You wanted to shove him to the ground. 

“No, I haven’t!” You say loud enough that he hears but try to mask it so that nobody else does, “I told you yesterday this is my first time dancing with somebody!” As embarrassing as it was to admit, right now you couldn’t be bothered to care as he led you to the middle of the room, standing in first position as you two waited for the orchestra to begin. 

“Are you saying I’m your first?” He teased, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he watched you grow mortified, rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting way as his means to apologize. 

You wanted to go ahead and argue but the cello and violins started and you were whisked away by his calculated movements, and the only thing you could do was follow in his lead. 

The two of you practiced a bit in the days leading up to this, but it was a lot different when your only crowd was Lily and her constant whining about how boring it was. 

Now, with everybody staring at you and him, it was far more daunting. 

“Don’t look at the ground, look at me,” he whispered in your ear, smiling when your eyes traveled to him. He tried not to crack when he saw the pure loathing and hatred in them, but at least you were looking up and not at his shoes. 

“‘Toru I’m never doing a favor for you again, you owe me.” You groan, letting him twirl you around in a circle as some of the ladies give a polite clap. 

“Name your price.” He egged you on, bringing you back flush against his chest as his hand found purchase on your waist. 

“Not money,” you grumble, eyes twitching as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve always wanted to dance with him, sure, but not under these circumstances. 

“Books?” You consider it but shake your head. You deserve something bigger for what you’re putting yourself through. Shocking enough, after being a wallflower for so many years, you weren’t handling being in the spotlight too well. 

“I’ll think about it. But it has to be big.” You warn and he lifts up his pinky on your waist to show you his unbridled loyalty to keeping true to your words.

“Where are you going after this is done?” He spins the two of you around, and you watch as more couples rush around the two of you. It’s less stressful when others are dancing, but you still feel tense. 

“I’m probably going to stay with Lily outside.” He seems to deflate a little, though he still stands tall, his suit never crinkling through his movements. 

“No more dancing?” He teased but you vehemently disagree with the idea. 

“Never again.” It’s not as though you hate it, in fact, a younger you would have been jumping with glee to be able to dance with Satoru. But after years of growing accustomed to watching rather than participating, you can’t grow out of that habit. 

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see the Princess herself as she looked at you with pleading eyes. 

“Would you mind if…?” She motioned to Satoru and then to you. You barely noticed the number coming to an end, and the rupture of applause was the last thing you heard before you scrambled away from him. 

You didn’t even notice how he had held onto your hand tighter, not wanting to let you go.

“O-of course, your majesty.” You winced at your select choice of words and how you said her title almost as if you questioned it. 

“Thank you.” She mumbled and for somebody of such high regard, you wouldn’t think of her to need to plead with somebody, especially you, to be able to have a dance with Satoru. 

Your job for the night was done, successfully might be too loose of a term, but finished nonetheless. You chose not to look back at Satoru, knowing that the wide grin he’d save for the girls he was interested in would only twist that knife deeper into your heart. 

You were a sadist in the most pathetic way possible.

You waved goodbye to Satoru as another number started again, and tried your best to get away from all the twirling bodies as you headed out to find Lily. 

It didn’t take long until you found her trying to weasel out some information from her brother, tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder as he tried to fight her off. 

“…what did you hear, what do you know?” She pressed as he groaned, obviously trying to have a private conversation with the lady next to him. 

“Nothing Lily!” He locked eyes with you as he almost begged silently for you to take her. 

“Lily, I’m here. We can go now.” You looped elbows with her as you dragged her away, giving her brother a quick smile that said you accepted his gratefulness. 

As you walked through the stone path in the garden, she muttered dejectedly about how she was just about to get some good information out of him. 

“How was dancing with Satoru?” She finally asked after a while. The two of you weren’t alone, but far less crowded than it would if you had been inside. 

“Stressful, but the song was short so I wasn’t needed for too long.” You tell her honestly. If there’s one thing you can’t do with Lily it’s lie, for she’ll sniff out of you the moment you come up with it. 

“You look flustered.” She noted, looking over your face and the sweat that dotted over your cheekbones. 

“You dance in a sweltering room like that with the entire ton looking at you and try not to get flustered.” You reasoned and she seemed to buy it. It wasn’t a total lie, but a stretch of the truth. 

“You know,” Lily had terrible balance and often collided with you as she walked, “I was talking to my mother and despite her insistent warnings, I think we should make it official.”

“Make what official?” The lights from the candles above you illuminated her face and she had that look of mischief that either excited or frightened you. 

“That we plan to be unwed.” She grinned cheek to cheek and all you could feel was that same wave of nausea that had been prickling at you since the start of the night. This was the last thing you needed to hear about right now. 

“They’re going to think we’re either lunatics or lovers.” You say with a sullen and heavy sigh, looking up at the sky in some sort of desperate manner as you wait for some sort of angel to save you from this conversation. 

“And what’s the issue with that? Let them think. You have always said you’ve wanted this, so let’s let the world know.” 

Something you wish Lily was was to be more aware. As loving, thoughtful and caring as she was, she never seemed to pick up on the little things. For one, you doubted she noticed just how quiet you got whenever she brought up this conversation. You’d give her the benefit of the doubt and say that you rarely talked much when it came to marriage, but that was just so that you could save yourself from the ongoing embarrassment of never having experienced love or some sort of feeling that somebody would feel towards you to genuinely want to be your husband. 

Not only that, but far from Lily's point of help, is the fact that ever since Satoru has been back, your childish feelings have come flooding right in with him. No matter how many tea sessions you have with Lily and have him sitting in the background, either reading the morning's paper or jotting things down in his journal, it always spins to him sitting right beside you as you talk about anything under the sun. 

And while you know your hopes of marrying him are just too far-fetched, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Something Lily just hasn’t ever been able to pick up on when around you. Which is shocking, seeing how the only novels you’ve read for the majority of your life was centered around such a topic. 

“Listen, Lily, I’ve been thinking,” you pause for a second in your place, staring at the pebbles arranged in the formation of a star as you swallow your bile, “That maybe…” 

You were nervously wringing your hands together, a sign that Lily knew all too well. She could read you like any of her books, and she let out a gasp, covering her mouth with a shaky hand as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. 

“No,” she dug the finger into your chest, “You’re thinking of breaking up the pact?” It comes out breathless. Her soft curls of white that had been done up beautifully were slowly falling down as she shook her head in pure shock, not giving you a chance to talk. 

“I mean this is just brilliant. Brilliant! What am I supposed to do now, go out into the world alone as a spinster?” 

You stuttered, your fingers interlaced with one another as you tried to calm her down from causing a scene. Trying to shush her came to no avail as you wring your hands away from her, acting as if your touch was burning. 

If the Gojo’s were anything, it’s overly dramatic in places where dramatics were certainly not needed. 

“Please be rational,” she urged you as she clutched onto your wrists, suddenly pleading to you with her wide eyes, “The season is almost over and you haven’t had any offers. Sooner than later we’re going to be thirty, then forty, then fifty, and husbandless. We should say it now so that it doesn’t come off as a pathetic cry to hold onto what little decency we have in the future!” 

Christ, you hated that she was being somewhat logical. But her rationality stung, the way melted wax does when it burns the skin. She didn’t know just how much she was hurting you, and you doubted she ever would. 

“Look, I know I’m probably not going to be offered a chance at marriage, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least try.” You try to reason with her as she sniffs, her eyes squinted as she looks at you in anger. 

“This was our pact and you’re going against it! What’s next?”

You were going to argue that this pact was only made on the basis of her having too much champagne to drink and you being sullen over her brother, but you were cut off from getting the chance to do so. 

“What’s your issue?” 

You turned around at the familiar voice as you saw Satoru nearing you, Lily continuing her rant as she seemed to completely miss that her brother was coming towards the two of you. 

“What?” You felt overwhelmed with having two Gojo’s corner you, both rather angry from the looks of it. 

“I know that this isn’t your scene but you said you’d be my date. You don’t have to dance with me, but at least be there.” He looks like he’s seething, and you’ve never seen this look on him before. It’s jarring, to say the least. 

You feel like your head is about to explode. 

“I just-”

“....and my mother was only more confident in the idea if you were doing it!” Lily exclaimed, causing you to look back at her as she urged you to think about it. 

“...my mother has given me at least twenty women to mull over in the last twenty minutes. It would have been none if you just acted as my date for the night!” Satoru’s voice rose, and you felt like your heart was going to actually stop. Your head was spinning, your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t hear anything besides a loud ringing in your ears. 

“I’m sorry but-” The two of them talked over you, so stuck in their own worlds that they didn’t notice the tears pricking at your eyes or the way you seemed to be short of breath. It would probably be one of their greatest flaws, never noticing something until it was far too late. 

“Stop!” You cried out, earning some looks from the people around you as you rubbed at your forehead, already feeling it ache under your touch, “Please! Listen, just for a bloody second!” 

You took a deep breath and began. 

“I’m a fucking romantic Lily, and nothing’s ever going to change that! I always have been! And I want to get married, I just agreed to your pact because I know I’m probably never going to get that chance! And god, how can your only takeaway from reading Persuasion be to abstain from marriage?” Your nose crinkles in anger as you turn around to point your finger at her brother's chest, watching as he takes your reaction in obvious surprise. 

“You!” You cry out and he almost backs away, “I was trying to give you some courtesy by leaving! God forbid you gave anybody the idea that you were courting me!” You quickly wipe at your eyes but it does fuck all of hiding how you truly felt as your lips wobbled.  

“Why would…?” He's breathless, no longer angry, just utterly confused and a wee bit frightened. 

“We both know you’re too good for that. How’d you phrase it, you’d be out of your mind if you did such a thing?” You throw his own words back at him, and you watch in some sort of mixture of triumph and heartbreak as realization washes over his features. 

He finally remembers. 

“I…” he swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair as it fell out of his face, rubbing at his jaw as you looked at you from beneath his lashes, “I didn’t…” but he can’t finish his sentences and instead stops, sharing an unreadable look with his sister as they then look at you. 

“I’m going home.” You say after a beat of silence, breathing deeply through your nose as you look away from the two of them. 

“Let me-” Satoru started but you raised a hand to stop him. 

“I think I’d be better off alone.” You snap, nostrils flaring as you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to stop the already impending migraine that is about to come. 

For once in your life, you didn’t care about the eyes boring into your back or the way that whispers flew around you and twisted around your throat like a vine. You were glad that nobody else other than the servants was home as you ran up into your room, locking everybody else out as you sobbed into your pillows. 

---

The days following your (well-deserved) outburst were more than rough. 

To your knowledge, Lily has visited a total of ten times in the past five days, sometimes twice in the same one, while her brother has visited a grand total of zero. You didn’t expect much from him, but this really cemented your quickly growing disdain. 

Your mother informed you constantly that she was trying to put out the fires from that night but you couldn’t bring it to feel too bad, after all, you were glad that you didn’t say anything more drastic. 

“This is just so unlike you!” She cried, shaking in disappointment as you munched on some sweets you nicked from the kitchen. 

“I know,” you chuckled, “I’m so proud of myself.”

She just throws her hands in the air as a sign of utterly giving up and storms out of the room, most likely to meet with somebody else to “clean up the mess.”

She was right for some part, you can’t remember the last time you actually told somebody how you were feeling. It’s not healthy on your end, but growing up with three older sisters who always got it their way meant that you had some lack of backbone. 

Lily and Satoru, as much as you cared about them, didn’t live like that. Their mother loved them all equally and she made sure that all of their voices were heard. She was always making sure that their priorities were met and she never made them feel inferior. 

Which somehow, didn’t pass on to you. 

Loving the way you do got tiring when you got nothing back, and giving everybody your all when nobody seemed to notice it felt as though you were alone in a world full of people who cared for each other. You’ve read the books and heard the stories, but you eventually realized that it simply just wasn’t in your cards to be dealt the same thing. 

They cared, you know they did. But sometimes, it felt like they expected your care in order for them to show it to you. 

“Miss?” you heard a faint voice and a knock at your door. You sat up from your slump as Ella slowly came inside, shutting the door soundly behind her. 

“Did my mother ask you to make sure I haven’t flung myself off the balcony?” You dust away any crumbs from your pull over as you stare out the window. 

“I’m making sure you didn’t.” 

Your head snapped over at the familiar voice only to see Lily standing at the foot of your bed, looking out of place with her bright purple dress. She looked like she was teetering back and forth between staying out and sprinting away, and you admired her courage after how many times you’ve turned down her offer. 

You glared at Ella but she was no longer there, leaving you and Lily alone. 

“You’re just in time then.” You say blandly, standing up from your bed as you make the covers and are careful not to come too close to her. She seemed to notice. 

“We can’t go about this forever,” she stated, rounding the corner of your bed as she took three steps forward while you took one back, not wanting to be cornered again the way you were that night, “This silent treatment is killing me.”

“Then die,” you don’t mean it and she knows it, but her face wobbles for a second and you watch in horror as tears spring to Lily's eyes. 

The last time Lily cried the two of you were fifteen and her brothers had effectively ruined the singular dress she had actually been looking forward to wearing by staining it with ink. You spent at least an hour calling her down and trying to rationalize with her until you finally gave up and offered to cut holes in all of their suits. 

You’re not sure you could do that now. 

“I’m sorry!” She sprung herself forward at you with full throttle as she hugged you tightly, “You’re right! There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic!” You don’t know what to do as you stand there in shock so you awkwardly pat her back, her long white hair never loose so you’ve never really seen it to its full extent. 

“My brother and I have been at war with each other trying to put the blame on somebody else but I’m sorry! You of all people deserve to find love,” she looks up and her eyes just look like oceans and it’s unfair how pretty she looks when she cries because you just look like a mess, “Please, please forgive me.”

You look as she refuses to pull away from you, clutching desperately onto the thin fabric of your nightgown that your mother reprimanded you for not getting out of, and slowly feel your hands circle around her back as you pull her into a hug. 

“Honestly,” you shake your head as she looks up at you, cheeks rosy with streaks of tears and her lip wobbles violently, “I’m probably going to be on that pact ten years from now. But I just-”

“Want to try!” She finished your sentence for you, something the two of you always prided in being able to do, “and that’s respectable too!”

You try not to smile but the corners of your lips tug upwards as you nod, Lily waiting with bated breath as she scanned your reaction. 

“Don’t ever treat me like that again, you hear me?” 

She vehemently nods, pulling away as she wipes at her eyes, holding out her oinks finger as she waits for you to latch on. Sure, it was a childish way of making a promise, but Lily was never the serious sort of person. If anything, this is the most you’ve ever seen her apologize about something. 

“I promise with the depths of my soul. If I do, brand me with an iron.” Your eyes widen as you go to disagree but she won’t take it. 

“I swear.” She repeats gravely. 

You look at her pinky for another second before you bring yours up, not believing that this is still how the two of you go about making amends. 

“Alright then,” you heave a sigh, “I forgive you.”

Her face breaks into a wide and toothy smile as she pulls you in for a tighter hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as she pulls back away. 

“You’ll never regret this, I swear,” she looked radiant, but quickly stopped as she looked down at the ground, trying to gather her thoughts on how to break the news to you, “Now, be prepared for another one.” 

You blink slowly, brows furrowed in confusion as you lean on your bedpost, arms crossing as your lips purse. 

“What?” 

She almost looks ashamed again, looking at the clock on your wall. 

“My mother’s invited you over for dinner. Get ready to see the other Gojo.”

---

Your mother, as difficult as she was to deal with at most times, somehow understood the concept of showing off through a good wardrobe. 

You wouldn’t put any bets on the fact that if your outfits were significantly better you might have had at least one man approach you in all these years, but it certainly could have been a possibility. 

The cut was lower than all your normal dress, and with the help of your corset, pushed the sisters up a considerable amount. 

The color was the most flattering you’ve ever seen, and through the utilization of crystals and diamonds encrusted in the fabric itself, it shined perfectly when the light hit it. 

For the first time, you were glad your mother picked out your outfit. 

Unfortunately, the outfit gave you only so much confidence. When you walked into the Gojo estate, thankfully with Lily on your side, all the memories from that night came flooding back and your stomach flipped upside down. 

You were glad that Lily was seated next to you at the dinner table as well, but it didn’t help that Satoru was seated in front of you, glaring daggers into your face as you tried to avoid looking at him. 

“Now, you didn’t tell me about your plans for the next year, with the season already coming to an end.” Their mother, bless her heart, asked as she loaded some peas into her fork, looking at you with her kind eyes as you struggled to think of a good enough answer. 

“I’m planning on taking a marriage offer up, actually,” you say, trying not to look at Lily for you knew she was already giggling.

In the past five hours, you filled her in on everything, and she decided the best way to get Satoru to say something was if you went with the idea. 

“Oh?” You watched as she perked up in interest, as did the rest of the Gojo family. An offer? 

“Yes,” you nodded, “Lord Cornwallis, actually, if you’ve heard of him?” 

Lily was gleaming as she saw her brother clench his jaw as he stared at the side of your face that was still looking at their mother. 

“L-lord Cornwallis?” You felt bad for lying to her, but you could just come back later and say you’ve changed your mind, “He must be at least-”

“Ninety-nine?” You answered for her as her cheek warmed, “Some say he’s just in his prime, yes.” 

She drank some of her wine. 

“Isn’t that desperate?” Satoru finally said and you heard a loud clatter from the end of the table as their mother angrily sat her cup down, glaring at her son. 

“Satoru!” She exclaimed, the rest of the girls and boys watching in tense silence as they waited for your reply. 

“It’s alright,” you shrugged, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, “And yes, it could come off as desperate. However, I would rather go to a man who finds no problem in courting me rather than somebody who’d tell the whole world just how much it would disgust him to be seen with me.”

You could swear you heard a tooth crack. 

“I’m sorry, am I missing something-” One of the brothers piped up but Satoru acted as if he hadn’t heard him. 

“Well if that man were drunk out of his wits-”

“Then he let his sober thoughts reign free.” You finish for him, nostrils flaring as Satoru twisted the ring on his forefinger back and forth. 

“Again, Miss Gojo, I’m simply thinking over his offer.” You finish, seeing how she could barely take her eyes off of her son as she blinked towards you, giving a shaky smile as she nodded. 

“Of course, there’s no…no problem in that.” She swallowed uncomfortably, as did everybody else. You peeked over at Lily to find her just as you suspected, beaming with silent joy. 

“If you wouldn’t mind, I think my dress has come a bit undone. I’m going to call for somebody to fix it.” You say, excusing yourself as you try to go ahead with the plan you had set in the first place. 

“Make him mad, really mad. Say something about Cornwallis, he despises him,” Lily muttered, sitting cross-legged on your bed as she urged you to listen to her directions, “Then excuse yourself. Say you’ve got to use the privy or something, doesn’t matter.”

You nodded, listening intently as she laid it on thick for what she had been picking up on for the past couple of days. 

“Go upstairs and find his room, you know where it is. Be quick with it too, but there’s this box on his desk that’s full of letters. I swear on my Austen collection that there is a letter with your name on it.”

You felt your heart tumble. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, glancing at the clock to make sure you wouldn’t be late to dinner. 

“Positive. And I’d get it if I could, but he’s so secretive with his room that this is probably the one time it’s going to be unlocked. He’d never suspect anybody going snooping at this hour.”

You grinned, knowing that if you finally got that little something to use against him, he’d have no choice but to grovel at your feet for the rest of his life. 

You quickly scampered up the stairs, telling one of their mates that you’d be able to fix your dress on your own and that you’d be stashed away in Lily's room for the time being, and mentally times yourself as you quickly paced through the halls, looking for the familiar dark oak that would be Satoru’s room. 

Just when you were about to get lost in their maze of a house, you stopped triumphantly behind the last door at the end of the hall, staring deeply at it as you weighed your options. 

You quickly caved, slowly reaching out to the doorknob to see if it was locked. 

It swung open, and you let out a sigh of relief and looked around a final time to make sure that nobody had followed you before you fully let yourself inside. 

It was dark, and you left the door slightly open so that the light from the halls could sleep in a bit, and you went to work on locating the box on his desk that Lily had described to you. 

You squint your eyes, wincing as you bumped into furniture as you made your way to the corner of the large room, blindly reaching and grabbing for anything on the mahogany desk that would resemble a box. 

You let out a sound of triumph as you found a square-shaped glass-feeling thing filled to the brim with papers, holding it upwards to the sliver of light as you quickly ran through the letters with your fingers and you tried to find one with your name on it. 

They seemed like they were all unsent, with many of them labeled to his mother or siblings, and a few to his friends, but you didn’t find any of them labeled to you, and you quickly felt your heart and hopes sink. This was taking far too long.

Just as you were about to give up, you passed a smaller shaped letter with cursive that looked familiar, in the sense that you had seen it addressed before, and pulled it out only to see your name staring back at you. 

A part of you almost wanted to sink into the chair behind the desk, your heart beating rapidly in the small vastness of your ribcage as you held it back up to the light, seeing a note tucked neatly away through the transparency of the envelope. 

Your nimble fingers went to rip the seal of wax off, but stopped as the door swung open. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Satoru stood at the doorway, blocking the rest of the light as his shadow cast over you. 

You dropped the letter, quickly hiding it behind your back as he stepped in, getting closer to you as you abruptly stood up, trying to come up with a feasible lie as you rounded away from his desk, trying to get away from him and his massive build. 

“Oh?” You looked around as if suddenly realizing this wasn’t the place you were supposed to be, “Is this not Lily’s room? Silly me, I couldn’t make it out in the dark. I’ll be leaving now if you’ll excuse me…” You turned around, brushing past him but stopping when you felt his long fingers circle your wrist, turning you around as his eyes squinted. 

“Bullshit,” you flinched, never having heard him curse before as his hands felt around yours, finding the letter you were doing a terrible job of hiding, “You know this house better than your own. Why the hell are you in my room?” 

You didn’t say anything as he brought your hand out from behind your back, opening up your closed fist with much ease to reveal the crumpled-up envelope. Your chest heaved up and down, waiting with bated breath as he stared silently at the letter. You balled your fists back up again, stepping away from him as he followed you quickly in your footsteps. 

“Give that to me y/n,” his voice was low and commanding, unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, and if you weren't in your rebellious mood (and somewhat in your independent, not totally in-love-with-him mood) you would have caved, but you shook your head, looking behind you as to make sure you didn’t back into his bed frame. 

“It’s got my name on it.” You argued, knowing it was a terrible excuse, and you watched him chuckle darkly, knowing that you had no good reason for being in his room and sifting through his letters. 

“And yet it was in my room, in my letterbox, on my desk.” He snapped, eyes a deep blue and different from the usual lightness they carried. He wasn’t joking and he wasn’t lying, he needed that letter back. 

Which just made you want it even more. 

You didn’t know what to do, so the only logical thing in your sporadic mind was to shove it down your dress, hiding it in your chest as Satoru watched your movements like a hawk, not saying anything as you defiantly showed him your now empty hands. 

“Get it now Satoru,” you challenged him, not realizing you had backed up into the wall until your head lightly bounced off from it, wincing at the sting as you looked back behind you. 

He didn’t say anything, and it seemed like his mind was running as quickly as it could as he tried to deal with whatever it was you were doing. Instead, he just three more languid steps forward, nearly face to face with you as he stared down at you, eyes darting from yours to your lips and chest. 

Under any other circumstances, you would have felt like shedding your clothes off from how heated you felt under his gaze. Here, your only resort was to keep them on, to see what was so important about that letter. 

“I came to find you to apologize,” his voice is low and calm, his cool breath hitting your cheek as you struggle to keep your composure, “To be civil. To tell you that I didn’t mean anything I said that night.” 

Despite your mixed emotions, you felt your brows furrow at his select choice of words. 

“Are you here to tell me now that you actually meant every word?” You couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of your mouth, knowing that the answer would probably send you into a state you could never get out of as the person you’ve loved for the majority of your life confirms your biggest fears.

But shockingly, he just shakes his head, his lips pink and plush and you’ve never found yourself focusing on them more than you are now. 

If only you knew that he felt the same as he looked at you. 

“No,” he stepped closer, if possible, but still had room to shove him away. But you didn’t, not now, you couldn’t, didn’t want to as his nose nudged yours a bit, your lashes fluttering against your cheek as your lips parted, waiting for him to do something, 

“I’ll show you that I didn’t mean them.”

You couldn’t breathe, your lungs contracting as his face fell towards yours, your lips meeting ever so slowly as they finally landed on yours, soft and somehow delicate as they pushed against yours, finalizing the kiss as he began to move them. 

You’ve never kissed anybody before, often dreaming about it as you lay in bed hopelessly in love, but never thought you’d be here from the man you’ve imagined on the other side doing it with him. 

He moved slowly as if he knew that this was your first time, and you didn’t know how to handle your emotions as he angled his chin to get closer to you, his lips capturing you in such a heated and feverish pace that you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight as you thought back on it. 

His hands slowly came up to your waist, tugging you flush against his body as your hands somehow found their way behind his neck, finger curling into his long strands of arctic white as he groaned against you when you tugged a bit, the sound coming from deep within his chest. 

You were impatient, always have been, and it probably took him a little bit by surprise as you quickened the pace, hungry after so many years of starving for this as you pushed against him for more fervor, feeling him smile slightly against your lips as he met you in the middle, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as you whined slightly as the feeling. 

He nipped at your lips, his tongue poking out from in between yours, and you absentmindedly opened your mouth a little bit to make room for him, heart and mind working in tandem as he brought up a hand to cradle the back of your head, making sure it didn’t hit the wall as he pushed against you. 

It was messy and hurried, and for once, it felt as if he felt the same you were feeling. As if he too wanted this, needed this more than air itself, and that thought alone made your mind stop functioning. 

Your hands moved from his neck to his chest, fingers clutching onto the satin fabric of his suit, wrinkling the fabric as your noses bumped against each other, sheer desperation showing from the two of you. 

“Viscount Gojo?” 

The two of you almost jumped at the knock that sounded from the door. 

“Your mother is asking where you are. She’s worried about the lady as well,” Fred didn’t peek his head in, and for that you were grateful. You were sure you looked like a total mess at the moment, but Satoru spoke, glancing at the door as he took a deep breath, almost as if it was his first time breathing in a couple of minutes. 

“Tell her that we’re working things out. It’ll take a bit more time.” His voice sounded steady enough, but from where you were standing you could see how swollen his lips were, the fact that they were red and glistening with sweat. His hand on your waist tightened as if he didn’t want to let you go, and your hand lay flat against his chest.

“Of course,” Fred answered, “Take your time.” He shut the door completely, and the two of you waited until you heard his footsteps becoming softer and softer until you could no longer hear them. 

You waited, looking in the direction for another second before you looked up at him only to see his eyes gauging yours for a reaction, somehow a storm going on behind them as he battled twenty different emotions. 

“I’m still hurt Satoru,” you whisper, his eyes never changing but his shoulders tense a bit as you drop your hands away from him, as if you were suddenly coming to your senses and realizing what you had just done, “I can't forgive you this easily.”

You don’t know how to handle your feelings sometimes, and sometimes they catch up to you later than they should. You could still hear his words from that night ringing around your mind and nothing was stopping it no matter how hard you tried. 

“Come get the letter when you’re ready to apologize with more than just your lips.” 

You look back up at him one more time before you push away, feeling him lightly move away from you to give you space as you smooth out the front of your dress, touching your face to make sure that none of the makeup and powder that was swiped against your face wasn’t wrecked as you left. 

You don’t look back as you left him silently in his room, shutting the door behind you as you stopped, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you went back down to dinner. 

---

A week passed since your night with Satoru, and you’ve come to terms with the fact that he regrets it. 

It hurts, it hurts even more when you convince yourself that he probably was trying to take pity on you and test how true his old words were, but you couldn’t spiral, knowing that it would cause even more turmoil. 

Lily came by regardless, under the impression that you and her brother made up and are on better terms, and you're in no rush to tell her the truth of what happened. 

She asked about the note, but you insisted that you couldn’t find it. She grumbled that he probably threw it away after she pestered him constantly about it. 

“What about Lord Balfour?” She was sprawled out on your bed, her legs crossed resting it up against the wall with her head at the opposite end, looking on a piece of parchment in which she had gone around asking for men looking for marriage (and a true romantic connection, she stressed). 

“Hm, too bald,” you said, sitting in your vanity, washing off the rest of the powder on your face as you dipped the soft cotton cloth back into the pitcher of water as you looked at her through the mirror, “Isn’t he a year younger than us?”

She pouted as she thought, looking back to her list as she crossed off that name. 

“Count Alexei?” She seemed to like this one and you set your towel down, trying to place a face to the name. 

“Isn’t he from Russia? Wouldn’t it be difficult for him to come back and forth?”  You asked and she nodded, although she seemed more sad that you didn’t want him. 

“Have you just gone around the ton asking if anybody’s looking for marriage?” You teased and she turned around, sitting up as she wiped the hair out of her face. 

“I take your journey to find true love very serious,” she argued and you snorted, knowing that it was a kid if that and the fact that she liked judging the men of the higher class, “Are you complaining?”

“No, of course not.” You turn around from your chair as you face her, urging her to continue. 

“Duke Cambell?” She looked up from the list with a raised brow, only to find you looking the same, taking more time to consider the name. 

“He explicitly stated he’d consider marriage? With me?” You tilt your head to the side. Surely it would be too good to be true. He wasn’t too pretty, nobody was like Satoru, but he wasn’t that bad to look at either. 

“He seemed quite eager about it, actually.” She said, and you smiled a bit, feeling like a silly schoolgirl with the way you ducked your head. 

“He’s a bit shy, isn’t he?” You said with a little giggle and she snorted, nodding as she circled his name and put a question mark next to it. 

“Just means he’s more apt to moan louder,” she said blandly and your mouth dropped, burrowing your face in your hands at her very open nature. Even after ten years it sometimes caught you off guard. 

“Lily!” You shouted, trying to hold in your laugh, and she just looked at you as if you should have expected this as she rose from your bed, stretching her arms above her head as she let out a frantic yawn. 

The sun had already set and she knew her mother would be expecting her to arrive soon, and you went to stand but stopped you. 

“No need to stand, I’ll bid farewell from here.” 

You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, picking up the cloth again as you dabbed at your cheeks. 

“I assume you’ll be here tomorrow?” Crossing your legs as she shrugged as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. 

“Yes. In fact, I’ll leave this prized list with you so that you can mull it over,” she walked over a bit and set it down on the top of your vanity, looking at you as she put a solemn hand on your shoulder, “Do think over Count Alexis. He is rather dreamy.” 

You chuckled, waving goodbye to her as she left the door with a litter thud, blowing kisses as you snorted at her exaggerated act, turning back around to your mirror as you wiped away the remaining bits of your makeup. 

You were already in your dressing gown, the material soft and light on your skin as you set the cloth back down, drying your face off with another one as you got ready to sleep. 

With meticulous care you took your earrings off and began to work on your necklace but struggled with the finicky clasp, your thumb slipping just as you were about to get it. You let out a quick groan of frustration, shutting your eyes as you tried not to lose your temper over a necklace.

“Do you need help with that?” 

You were getting better at controlling your reactions, but your eyes snapped over to the top of your mirror as he stood there, shutting the door behind him. Your hands fell to your lap as you silently seethed. 

Ella was never going to hear the end of it. 

You said nothing and he quietly walked over to where you sat with your back to him, opting to look at him through your mirror as his slender fingers slowly came up to your neck. 

“I’m getting rid of my maid.” You mutter eyes dropped to your lap as you try to control your breath as his fingertips touch your delicate skin, gingerly getting to work of undoing the clasp. He didn’t say anything and the only sound that filled the room was your slow little puffs of air, trying to get your pulse to stop from doing the strange rhythmic beating it always did when you were around him, as if he somehow became the conductor of your heart. 

You heard a small click and the necklace became undone, and he gathered it in his palm as he set it down next to your little trinkets, dropping his hands from your shoulder as his cerulean eyes found yours once again, and you looked away, his deep stare burning through yours. 

“Don’t,” his voice came out rough as if he hadn’t made much use of it for a while, “She’s always turned me away when I came asking for you. I weasled my way through her right now, almost blew my cover when Lily was leaving.” 

Oh.

“I’m over it.” No, you weren’t, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud.

You opened up the drawer to the left of you, moving some little cases of jewelry around as you found the letter you had hidden away as you brought it out, setting it on the desk as you stood from your chair, pushing it back in as you faced him, “Take it. I didn’t read it.” Despite how much you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stoop that low and read through something he didn’t want you to see. 

He glanced over at the letter and then at you, taking the letter with careful movements as he found the letter opener scattered on your desk, ripping through the wax as he opened it up, passing the envelope back to you. 

“Read it.” 

You certainly weren’t expecting that. 

“What?” You couldn’t blink, looking at his outstretched hand that held the very thing that had been bothering you as if it was nothing, “I don’t-” 

“Go on,” he urged quietly, his voice caught in the back of his throat, “Read it out loud. Please.” 

You looked at him once more to make sure he wasn’t going crazy before you gently took it from his hands, your fingers brushing past each other as you opened it up, taking out the letter as you unfolded it, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the worst. 

“I’m terrible at writing letters, you should know,” you start, squinting as you move closer to your candle so that you can read it better, “And you should know that I’ve written this twenty other times. I have-

“Twenty balled-up pieces of paper next to me,” Satoru finished the sentence, not looking at the letter once as he read it from memory, “If only you could see the mess,” he paused, his hands shaking a bit as he continued, “I apologize for not sending as many letters to you as I should, but aside from my travels which have proven to do nothing other than make me regret leaving, I only have one other thing left to tell you. 

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I thought that it would do me some good to leave and get some time to think about how bad it would be if I said out loud that I was in love with the girl who’s my sister's best friend, but I’ve simply gone mad over needing to see you again. I’m in Paris, which is coincidentally the city of love but I’ve grown bitter and resentful over the fact that the woman I love is an ocean away from me. I can’t do it anymore. No, scratch that, no, I can’t do this other letter…” 

“...It’s too pathetic. You’re worth more than this.” You concluded, reading along because you couldn’t be yourself to look up at him, knowing that you simply would break apart and couldn’t take it as you heard the three words you’ve wanted to hear from the man that you never thought would say them. 

You looked at the paper, eyes scanning each word again as you let out a heavy sigh, feeling like you were living in a dream that was wrapping its arms slowly around you and whisking you away. 

“That night, I projected. I don’t know why I said what I said, I just know that thinking it over told me everything I needed to know and I acted like a coward and a fool and I hurt you when really, I love you. I love you, I’ve never stopped. I burn for you, and I always will.” He whispered, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he cleared his throat, wiping at his nose as he sniffled. 

You’ve never seen him like this, exposed and raw. But you knew that you mirrored his emotions, knew that you were in the same state that he was for he carefully brought his hand up to your cheek, wiping a tear away as he cupped your face in his hands. 

“I know that it would be too much to ask for your forgiveness, but please, I don’t know how much longer I can go without at least seeing your face, hearing your voice, your laugh, you’re kind, kind heart.” His hands trailed down your face, down your arms, and your waist, settling on your hips as he ducked his head downward, tears sliding down the curve of his nose as he did something unexpected. 

The Viscount Gojo Satoru began to kneel. 

You froze, looking down in shock as he bowed his head in shame and apology. 

“‘Toru, please, I,” your voice broke and you quickly wiped your tears away, taking his hands that were sprawled out across your waist as you held them, not knowing how to handle this display of vulnerability as you gently made him look up at you, “Just tell me one thing.” 

His thumb caressed the back of your hand, giving a soft nod as he whispered; “anything,” and his hand moved up your waist, holding your back as your hands unknowingly went to his hair, moving it away from his face as your fingers twirled and played with his white strands, basking in the sense of having him at his knees for you. 

“Why did you wait so long to come back?” Your voice is barely audible as it cracks, a year of missing him and ten years of longing for him coming out as he shakes his head, almost as if he was more remorseful about it than you could ever imagine, and he shifted so that he wasn’t resting on his ankles anymore, digging deep into his pocket as he brought out a little box. 

“I went back to Japan. I was trying to find this little ring my father gave my mother back when he started to pine after her,” he opened up the box, a delicately cut blue diamond rind resting on a thin gold band stared back at you, shining in the candlelight, “I wanted to give it to you as a promise…” and he trailed off, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he suddenly became a bit embarrassed, pocketing the box again as he looked back up at you. 

“What was the promise?” You can barely hear your words over the thumping of your heart. 

He swallows, slowly coming to standing back up, never losing his hold on you, clutching onto your thin nightgown as if it was the only thing grounding him to reality. 

“That I’d marry you one day.” He whispered back, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want them to escape the vicinity of your room, this shared space between the two of you in which you stripped each other bare to the soul, only the find that they longed to be in each other's place even when they were miles apart. 

Just as he did so many nights ago, he leaned closer to you, giving you time and space to push him away, to yell, to scream, but you didn’t, nudging his nose with yours as your lips found each other, this time quick and rough and not wanting to be patient because there was no room for such a thing. 

He let out a small groan as you tugged on the hairs at the back of his nape, pushing you further down until your back hit one of your windows, feeling the cool night air from the glass as it traveled through the thin cotton of your slip

It seemed like something in him was finally let go, and you as well, and everything came tumbling down in the best way possible. 

It was so messy and rushed and desperate that you felt like you were going to faint, the air from your lungs being stolen by his hungry and greedy lips as he pushed back roughly against you, needing to taste you, feel you, or else he simply wouldn’t make it. 

Satoru tapped the back of your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso as you pulled away slightly, questioning him as he scoffed at your doubt. 

“I spent a year getting bigger and stronger for you,” he murmurs against your lips, “and the first thing you said when you saw me was oh. Come on,” he nipped at your lips, his boyish and charming smile growing when you whimpered, “Test me out.” 

You gave in, standing on your toes as you did what he asked, and you let out a little laugh of surprise at how he wasted no time wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he smirked, going away from the ball as he led you to your bed, basking in the sound of your twinkling laughter as you admired him in all his glory. 

“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you tease and he snorts, fixing your gown as he hovers above you. He was huge, so much bigger than you anticipated in your imagination, but it was so much better than you ever could have thought. 

“I’d never lie to you,” he promised, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips that left you breathless as he continued downwards, pressing kisses down your jaw, and your neck, spending time as he sucked at one of your vital points, enjoying the way you sounded like you had run a marathon. 

He looks stunning here; his lips look bruised and swollen, pink and wet with spit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body, and if you weren’t crazy about how he looked at you, you would’ve shielded yourself away in embarrassment. 

But he didn’t give you any time to think it over, pushing past your loose nightgown as he pressed delicate pecks to your shoulders and upper chest region, looking up at you to make sure it was okay to continue. 

You quickly nodded, eager to see what he was going to do. 

“Mind if I take this off?” He asks, tugging at the ends of it as you look at him from beneath your lashes, trying to feel indifferent as you shrug, but the way you smile giddily gives away just how badly you want him to. 

“I wouldn’t mind.” You help him move it upwards, your arms coming out from the sleeves as the chilly air hits your naked skin, and you suddenly realize just how out in the open you are compared to him. 

Out of second nature, you go to cover your chest but he tsks, gently pushing your hands away as he eyes your breasts, looking like he had just come back from staring at the sistine chapel with the way he looks at you. 

Your nipples harden from how cold it was, and he slowly dips his head down to one of your tits, kissing the soft and supple skin as he inches closer to your bud, finally latching his mouth onto it as you throw your head back, arching your back into his lips as he sucks like his life depends on it. 

“S-shit, ‘Toru, so good,” you mewl, wrapping your hands around his neck as he flattens his tongue against your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive area as you whine even louder, not seeming to care if anybody outside your door could hear. 

His other hand lathes onto your other one, not wanting to leave her unattended as he pinches your nipple between his two fingers, twisting it just enough to make you shut your eyes at how good the attention feels. 

“Let me hear you,” he groans into your skin, looking up at you as you try to cover up your mouth with your hand, “I’ll stop if you cover up that pretty mouth of yours.” 

You simply nod, leaving your shaky hand to grip your bed sheets as he switches his mouth and hand with each other, giving you different sensations to wrap your hands around as you feel a deep part of your pulse, needing more of him. 

“‘Toru, please,” your voice comes out shaky as he releases your tit with a pop, his hands going down to hold onto your hips as you bring his chin up for another kiss of swapping spit with him, growing to appreciate the lewdness of it all as you lay feather light kisses on his jawline, feeling him shudder beneath you, “Wan’ more.” 

At any other time, he would have drawn this out, would have teased and prodded at you to use your words, to tell him where you needed him most, but he couldn’t wait with you, wanting to have a taste of you himself. 

So his wolfish grin comes back, his hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just above your mound as he cocks a brow at the way you seem to grow impatient, reaching the place you seemed to have in mind. 

“Here?” He asked quietly, his pointer finger moving to find your clit as you let out a quiet gasp, his expert fingers having nothing on your inexperienced ones. Sure you’ve touched yourself deep into the night when you made sure everybody was asleep, but it never felt like this. 

You couldn’t speak, so you nodded again, and that seemed to be good enough for Satoru as his finger moved down to your lips, a deep groan coming from within his chest as he felt how wet you were, and prodded his finger at your tight walls, slowly pushing past them as he seemed to be in a trance. 

You sucked him in so delightfully, pulsing against his as your slick stained his finger, making it easier for him to fuck you with a little bit more pace, careful not to hurt you, as he brought it back up to circle at your clit, trying to find what places you liked to be teased most. 

“O-oh my god,” your eyes rolled back in your head as his long find pushed back against your gummy walls, his other thumb finding your nub as you whined even louder, not used to feeling this good, spreading your legs out even further as you tried to make room for him. 

“There you go, s’perfect,” he said against your skin, dipping down as he moved a hand to keep your thighs further apart, “Mind if I have a taste?” And you were in another dimension, just cradling his neck as you pushed him to go further. 

He chuckled darkly, nearly going insane as he neared your glistening pussy, eyes growing dark as he moved his fingers away so that his tongue could have its turn, and you swore you almost came right there. 

He licked gingerly, savoring you first as he groaned, his thumb never giving up on circling and massaging your clit, but he began to eat you out as his life depended on it, licking and sucking like you were his last meal. 

“‘Toru, ‘Toru, fuck!” You screamed, biting your lip harshly as you kept your finger tight around his hair, “Don’t stop, please!” 

“F-fuck,” he murmured, coming up for a quick breath as he looked at you from his long white lashes, “Fucking kill me if I ever stop, okay?” 

He goes back in with the same amount of fervor, your chest moving up and down as you arch into his mouth, your jaw going slack as you quickly feel that rope in your stomach tightening, embarrassed at coming so early but knowing that there was no way you could stop yourself with the way he fingered you out at the same time he ate you out. 

“I’m yours,” he said against your skin, “I’ll always be yours.” It was out of place, but it seemed like he was branding it into your skin so that everybody else knew, knew that he belonged solely to you.

It was too much, and you felt like you were slowly losing your ability to think, talk, or do anything, and the only thing you could feel was him, and you felt it all coming to a crescendo as his mouth latched onto your clit, letting it all go as you came into his mouth. 

“‘M c-coming, mmmm fuck!” You couldn’t even believe the sounds you were making as you clenched around his finger, your essence coating his chin and hand as your legs were trembling, glad that he held a stable hand on your waist. 

You saw white for a couple of seconds, taking even longer to catch your breath, your tits rising and falling with each heave, and you suddenly felt like you came back down to earth, peeking out from an eye to see Satoru smiling down at you, his face soft and you whined in shock at what just happened, hiding your face into one of your pillows as he laughed lowly, the sound dripping down your ears like warm honey. 

“You just came around me, no need to be modest now.” He gently moved your face away from the sanctuary of your pillow so that you could look at him again, and he leaned down, pressing one final kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him as you let out a muffled moan. 

“How do you feel?” He asked as he pulled away, sitting on his haunches, letting you drape the blanket around your sweaty chest as you tried to sit up, shaking a bit as you tried to recover from your mind-breaking orgasm. 

“Good,” you say groggily, wiping at your eyes as you give him a lazy, languid smile, “Really good.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, chuckling as you nod, finding his hands as you play with his long fingers, and he lets you watch as you let them entangle with each other, somehow feeling more connected through this than the previous activity as you slowly pull him back down towards you, wanting nothing more than to curl into his chest. 

“Give me a second love,” he wanted the same thing, but he pulled away, “Let me clean you up.” 

You didn’t fight it and let him go, watching as he found the pitcher of water on your desk as he found a clean rag and wet it, coming back to your bed until his eyes caught something under the sheets. 

He picked it up, reading it as he sat down next to you, running the cold towel across your thighs as you let out a little whimper at the temperature. He pressed an apologetic kiss to your forehead as he turned the paper around in silent questioning. 

Your eyes widened, trying to take it away but he held it above your head. If you had more fight in you, you might have wrestled for it, but you gave up, letting him clean you up as he tried not to laugh at how measly it was. 

“I doubt Cambell would know how to make you come.” He finally says, throwing the rag away somewhere as you groan, pushing his face slowly away as you try to fight the giddy laugh that was going to bubble its way from your chest. 

“Stop! Lily was just trying to help!” You argue and he waves his hands, loosening the buttons of his tunic as he crawls in next to you, pulling you flush against him as he kisses the tip of your nose. 

“It’s fine love,” he nestles his nose in your hairline, smiling when you hitch a leg over his, “You’re mine now.” 

You look up at him, tracing over his features with the light touch of your fingertips as he leans into your warmth. 

“Do you promise?” 

He gives a single nod, sliding the delicate ring over your finger, and closes his hand around yours. 

“Promise.” 

[tteotlma]

Panic and Proximity

-- Trapped with Logan in a safe room, your biggest weakness reveals itself.

(Wolverine/Reader) 1.7kw

a/n: it's been like six years since i posted a fic.. smth short and sweet

TW: anxiety, panic attack, mentions of vomit, close spaces, forced proximity(?), CLAUSTROPHOBIA, tight spaces

"Bobby!" you yell over the deafening roar. You dig your heels into the dirt, pivoting to run towards your friend. A Sentinel has Bobby pinned, ice against ice. Suddenly, the ground opens beneath him, swallowing him whole. Your heart leaps into your throat, but in the next instant, the sky above the massive monster splits open. Bobby drops out, ready to swing full throttle.

You glance back to see Kitty sprinting towards you, Logan not far behind.

"No, run!" she screams, grabbing your arm as you both dash into the building.

"But Bobby—" you start, turning to look back at your friend. He seems to be holding his own, but for how long?

"It's okay, he's coming," Kitty pants as she phases you through industrial shelving.

Logan's gruff voice surprises you. "How do you know?"

"Because I'm gonna get him," Kitty replies, pulling you deeper into the building. "I just need to make sure you guys are safe first."

"And how are you gonna do that?" you ask, breathless. Your feet pound the floor in rhythm with theirs, legs aching. Only the adrenaline coursing through your veins keeps you going. 

"This way," Kitty hisses, yanking you towards a narrow corridor. The building's layout becomes a maze of twisting hallways and locked doors. Alarms blare, red emergency lights casting eerie shadows.

Logan sniffs the air. "We've got company. Multiple hostiles, closing in fast."

"There's a safe room," Kitty says, her voice strained. "It's small, but it'll have to do."

Your stomach tightens at the word 'small'. "How small are we talking?"

She doesn't answer, instead phasing through another wall, pulling you along. You emerge into a dim, cluttered storage area. At the far end, a heavy metal door stands ajar.

"In there. Now!" Logan growls, glancing behind you.

The thundering footsteps of your pursuers grow louder. Your heart races as you approach the door, catching a glimpse of the cramped space beyond. It's barely larger than a closet.

Kitty pushes you forward. "You don't have a choice. Get in!"

You hesitate, your breath catching in your throat. The walls seem to close in already, even from outside. But the sound of gunfire erupting behind you slowly convinces you to enter, but not fast enough. Kitty grabs both you and Logan and before you can protest, she phases you through the thick steel door. 

“Don’t go anywhere.” Kitty demands before she walks through the other side of the closet just as quickly as she put you in here. 

A small “no” escapes your lips as you reach out to touch the walls. You try to find any crevice to show your not completely shut off from everything but its no use, it’s too dark and from what your fingers can feel there’s nothing. The steel is stainless, and smooth. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, suddenly becoming too aware of your heart beating in your chest, and you suddenly feel lightheaded. You try and catch your breath but you can’t, you try and breathe but your lungs cant open enough as it hits you, your world shrinks to the size of a coffin. You try to take a deep breath, but you keep coming short.

"You okay?" Kitty whispers, her voice too close in the blackness.

You want to answer, to say you're fine, but the words stick in your throat. The walls are too close, the air too thin. You're trapped, and panic begins to claw its way up from your chest.

You try to soothe yourself, eyes squeezed shut, desperately imagining a vast field. Hoping to enhance the illusion, you peel your hands from the walls. Suddenly, a loud boom shakes the room, steel groaning around you. Logan tenses beside you, a stark reminder that danger still lurks beyond your confined space.

Your breathing becomes more erratic. Sweat beads on your forehead as the small space seems to shrink even further. Your fingers tingle, and a wave of nausea hits you.

"It's okay, it's okay," you mutter, but the words sound hollow even to your own ears. You take a step back, trying to escape the wall, only to collide with Logan's chest. He finally notices your distress.

"Hey, you alright?" He shifts, touching you lightly. You flinch away instinctively.

"Sorry," you pant. "Would now be a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?" You attempt a chuckle, hands fumbling to steady yourself. Eyes clenched shut, you feel saliva pooling in your mouth. "I think I'm gonna barf," you whisper.

"Hey, hey!" Logan turns you around to face him. "Look at me." You briefly open your eyes, making out only his shadowy form, hunched over. You quickly shut them again.

"Are you hunching over because the ceiling's too short?" you ask, still dizzy. Your fingertips find his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his solid torso. He shifts, followed by a soft thud.

"No," he says.

"You're lying." You clench your hand, pressing your fist against his stomach. The rhythm of his breathing slowly anchors you, pulling you back to reality.

"Maybe, but that's not important," he says, his voice closer than before. You feel him shift, moving nearer.

Your fist sinks deeper into the muscle of his stomach as his heavy hands rest on your shoulders, grounding you.

"Why are you just saying something now?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"I-it never seemed to matter," your voice shakes, your other hand wrapping around his forearm for support. "Until now." You feel tears forming in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry."

"Oh," you hear him breathe out softly. "Oh, Y/N." He sighs, a mix of concern and understanding in his tone.

Suddenly, his arms envelop you, cradling your head against his chest. The gesture, though meant to comfort, unfortunately intensifies your panic. Your breath hitches as the feeling of being trapped increases, despite the warmth of his embrace. You try to pull away but his arms don’t budge. 

Your breathing becomes more rapid against Logan's chest. The warmth of his embrace, meant to comfort, instead fuels your panic. "I can't—" you gasp, your fingers clawing at his shirt. "It's too tight, too close."

He cuts you off, shushing you. 

“Yes, you can.” He reassures you, his hand stroking your head.

"Listen to me," Logan says firmly, his gruff voice softening with an unexpected gentleness. "We're gonna try something. Focus on my voice and breathe with me. Can you do that?"

You manage a small nod against his chest, your forehead pressed against the rough fabric of his shirt. Logan must feel the slight movement because he shifts, adjusting his stance to better support you.

"Good," he murmurs, the word rumbling through his chest. "Now, feel my breathing. Try to match it."

Logan takes a deep, deliberate breath. You feel his chest expand against you, the steady rise and fall a stark contrast to your own erratic gasps. He holds you close, one hand splayed across your back, the other cradling the nape of your neck. His calloused fingers are surprisingly gentle, grounding you in the moment.

"In through your nose," he instructs, his voice low and measured. You struggle to comply, your breath hitching. "That's it," he encourages. "Now hold it for a moment."

You feel the pause in his chest's movement, a moment of stillness in the chaotic swirl of your thoughts. 

"Now out through your mouth," Logan continues, his own exhale warm against the top of your head. "Slow and steady."

As you attempt to follow his lead, you become acutely aware of other sensations: the faint scent of cigar smoke clinging to Logan's shirt, the steady thud of his heartbeat against your ear, the warmth of his body contrasting with the cool metal walls surrounding you.

"Again," Logan says softly. "In... hold... and out. You're doing great, kid."

Gradually, your breathing begins to sync with his. The vice-like grip of panic on your chest starts to loosen, ever so slightly. In this small, dark space, Logan's presence becomes an anchor, a point of focus beyond the suffocating walls.

"That's it," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice. "Just keep breathing with me. We'll get through this together."

You nod, one hundred percent sure that if you were to talk right now, it wouldn't be heard. Closing your eyes, you lean more of your weight against Logan. You take in his scent—a mix of cigar smoke, leather, and something uniquely him—his warmth seeping into you, his solid presence anchoring you in the moment. You melt into him, relishing the feel of his muscular body against yours.

In this intimate moment, your mind drifts to all the times you've admired Logan from afar. He's always been the ruggedly handsome mentor, the forbidden fruit that made your heart race during training sessions. You've caught his lingering glances, felt the electricity when his hand corrected your stance, noticed how his eyes seemed to soften when they landed on you.

There's always been something there, simmering beneath the surface. An unspoken connection, a tension that neither of you dared to acknowledge. You've told yourself it was just a silly crush, that Logan saw you as nothing more than a student. But the gentleness in his touch now, the care in his voice—it speaks of something deeper.

This moment, trapped in this tiny space, feels like a test of your limits. The boundaries between mentor and student, between longing and reality, seem to blur. Your racing heart isn't just from claustrophobia anymore, and you're certain Logan can feel it.

But now isn't the time for these thoughts. The danger lurking outside this safe room, the mission at hand—it all comes rushing back. You know you should pull away, regain your composure, focus on the task at hand. Yet, for just a few more seconds, you allow yourself to stay in Logan's embrace, drawing strength from him in more ways than one.

As your breathing finally steadies, you reluctantly begin to pull back, ready to face whatever comes next. But not before you catch a glimpse of something in Logan's eyes—concern, certainly, but also a flicker of something else. Something that makes your breath catch for an entirely different reason, you realize you're still pressed against Logan's chest. You step back slightly, looking up at him in the dim light.

"I... Thank you, Logan. I don't know what I would've done if..."

He cuts you off with a gentle squeeze of your shoulder. "We all have our demons, kid. The trick is not letting them win." His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. "You did good."

The moment is interrupted by another distant explosion, reminding you both of the pressing danger.

[manikas-whims]

the fake dating u did was so good, like, ate and left no crumbs?? and i feel like its so spot on?? you did amazing thank you so much for ur writing

could u do a follow up on it?? i need to see the angst and confusion of the reader and the fluff at the end 🥹🥹

have a good day!!

OMG thank you for the shower of compliments 🫶😭

As i said in another ask, i wrote those HCs as a one shot thingy, and i’m still shocked so many wanted a part 2 so here it is!..FINALLY!

with a dash of misunderstandings, a sprinkling of pent-up desires and a spoonful of angst with a happy ending.

APOLOGIES FOR THE LONG WAIT. HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT! ♡

Fake Dating the Love and Deepspace men but you catch feelings pt. 2

new readers make sure to read [PART 1] before you read this..

ZAYNE

❄️ You know you crossed a line when you requested Zayne to kiss you.

❄️ That one kiss led to the start of many more. Now Zayne kisses you whenever he drops you off at work and whenever he comes by to pick you up. And before you can even realize, they've become a part of your normal routine.

❄️ Speaking of kisses, they aren't merely innocent pecks anymore. Now they feel passionate and longer, involve a little tease of the tongue here and there, and always leave you weak in the knees.

❄️ But this controlled manner of feeding off of his generosity is proving to be quite difficult for you. If anything, the kisses have made you greedier. Every time his lips touch you, you hope that it doesn't simply end there. That he doesn't stop. You desire more than you should out of this fake relationship. You desire more than you deserve.

❄️ But before this desire of yours can take over and make you do something you can never take back, you decide to end things with Zayne.

❄️ It's a normal evening in his office. He's sorting through his patients’ files when you call out to him.

❄️ He looks up and patiently awaits whatever it is you have to tell him.

❄️ You feel your lips quiver.

❄️ Zayne may have agreed to be your fake boyfriend because you had practically begged him to but he isn't obligated to give you anything that isn't needed. Him picking and dropping you to and from work, sharing meals together and kissing you in front of others is already so generous of him.

❄️ That is all it should've been. Only you ended up developing real feelings.

❄️ But if you let this farce run any longer, you'll end up mistaking his kindness for genuine affection. You'll end up fooling yourself into thinking its real. Not just for you but him as well. That your feelings are reciprocated.

❄️ Your mouth opens and shuts, as you try to muster the courage before softly murmuring. “I think we should stop.”

❄️ For a moment, he stares at you, unmoving as ice. Then his mouth motions but you don't hear word. You run away.

❄️ Days pass with you ignoring Zayne's calls and texts. You skip work as well in order to avoid him.

❄️ Your doorbell rings one night and you almost jump. Dread instantly begins pooling in your belly. What if it's Zayne?

❄️ With anxious limbs, you answer the door only to find your friend Tara.

❄️ Tara tells you that she was only trying to set you up on dates because she hasn't seen you genuinely whole ever since you lost your family. That she wanted you to have someone who could complete you. But now that she's seen you with Zayne, her worries have faded into thin air. She is happy for you two. She is happy to see you happy after so long.

❄️ Though her words may have been supportive and full of warmth, they only make you feel worse. You end up crying and spilling the truth– the entire truth about the fake dating arrangement.

❄️ To your surprise, Tara is as kind as Zayne and instantly empathizes with you. She understands. And she apologizes for being so forceful in her attempts to look out for you by finding you dates.

❄️ Tara comforts you for a while but before departing, she suggests you come clean to Zayne and confess. She believes that it will all turn out fine in the end.

❄️ Well, its easier for her to say that. You're the one who actually grew up with Zayne. You know he's always been an honest man and how much it will hurt him when he learns that you've been taking advantage of your arrangement to enjoy his affectionate gestures. That after a while, you began deliberately prolonging the kisses in hopes of getting something more..

❄️ You wake up the next morning to incessant knocking at your door, and wonder if it's Tara again, come all this to check up on you.

❄️ Sleepily you answer the door. And the drowsiness dissipates from your eyes the moment you find the familiar tall figure of your childhood friend clad in his tight black shirt and dark trousers.

❄️ Dread seeps into your being once more and you lower your head in shame. If Zayne is here then it can only mean one thing. You knew this was bound to happen. But you are a coward nonetheless, and you can't bear to look at him as he breaks your heart.

❄️ Zayne let's out a breath and speaks. “That evening in my office..I’m sorry if its because of something I did..”

❄️ His apology makes you feel sick. You will not let him take the blame for your own misdeeds.

❄️ “No Zayne, I’m the one who asked for your help. And I didn't even consider the fact that I might catch feelings for you.” You pause to collect your thoughts. “But I know how wrong and stupid I was for it. And that is why I ended things between us. Before I could do something worse and spoil our—”

❄️ You stop abruptly as Zayne pushes the door further open and steps up on the threshold, hovering intimidatingly over you. He tilts his head low and speaks. “The arrangement wasn't just yours. Any decisions related to it should be reached only after proper discussion between the parties involved.”

❄️ His statement takes you by surprise and you finally move your lashes to hesitantly look up at his face. “I didn't think it mattered to you. I thought you were merely being kind and helpful..like always.”

❄️ “On the contrary, I was enjoying our little arrangement. After all,” Zayne inches even closer, his voice an octave lower. “it allowed me to spend more time in the company of the person I yearn for.”

❄️ It isn't his statement but the intensity of his gaze that arouses a tiny flicker of hope within you. “Zayne..you..I thought..I was the only one taking advantage of the situation..”

❄️ He chuckles lightly. “Apparently we both were. It seems our arrangement stopped being fake the moment we kissed.”

❄️ That tiny flicker of hope bursts into a lively flame of desire. “Then, you also wanted it to be real?”

❄️ He gives no verbal response but his lips quirk up into the barest hint of a smile as he nods.

❄️ For a moment, you stare at each other, processing all the words exchanged; the next, Zayne takes off his glasses and and tucks them in his pocket. And your lips find his, like many times this past week. Only now, neither of you stop just there for this isn’t pretense anymore. It's mutual, and it's real.

❄️ His hands slip beneath your shirt, cold fingers leaving a trail of warmth along every inch they touch.

❄️ And he kisses you harder, his tongue prying your lips apart as he pushes you inside the house and shuts the door behind him.

XAVIER

⭐ Things have been going pretty well ever since that “incident” in front of your apartment door. The creepy resident has stopped showing up.

⭐ You can freely enjoy the gym and pool in your apartment complex and everything else without the constant intrusion of that weirdo.

⭐ And although Xavier still goes out for morning laps and evening walks with you, accompanies you for the exercise sessions and even checks up on you at your apartment, he has cut-down on everything else. He is holding your hand a lot less and doesn't slip his arms around your waist as much.

⭐ It’s only fair though. Since the strange man isn't hitting on you anymore, there isn't much need for Xavier to act either.

⭐ You can live with it. Bear with him not engaging in any sort of skinship anymore. But your mind simply cannot forget the way his lips had felt against your own.

⭐ In the loneliness of the moonlit nights, you often find your fingers tracing the same spot his lips had sucked on your neck. You close your eyes and revisit the memory of his lips pressed gently upon yours. The memory of him kissing you a second time but with much more impatience and fervor. And you wish he'd do it all again.

⭐ It's not even surprising that you like Xavier. The guy has been nothing but helpful, protective and co-operative. And he indulges all your requests– from hanging out at the claw machine or playing kitty cards to something as unnecessary as a late night walk– when he could be spending that time reading a book or dozing-off.

⭐ You have found Xavier attractive ever since your first encounter. It's just that only now his searing kisses have left a mark upon your heart. Made you realise that you harbor an emotion far deeper than mere attraction for this man. And it's quite vexing how quickly he seems to have moved on from those shared kisses.

⭐ How can he smile at you with the same lips that nearly stole your breath away? How can he simply go on with his life while you lie awake in bed at nights, reminiscing those moments over and over?

⭐ Xavier has completely ruined you.

⭐ You can neither focus on work nor are you interested in gossiping with Tara and Nero. And to make matters worse, you get assigned to a mission with the last person you wanna face right now— the eccentric, silver-haired neighbor who claims to have killed more than 70,000 wanderers. The same man who had you pinned against a door just a week ago.

⭐ The mission starts smoothly. You and Xavier arrive at the location of a forest with high protofield fluctuations. You are synced as ever, efficiently taking down wave after wave of wanderers.

⭐ But there's a tension radiating between the two of you. It distracts you momentarily, resulting in you almost getting struck by a wanderer swerving it's blade towards you.

⭐ Fortunately, Xavier steps in at the last instant, slips an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. With his other arm, he effortlessly swings his blade and deflects the wanderer's blows.

⭐ He is saying something now, his expression full of concern. But you can barely hear a thing due to the loud drumming of your heart. You are too lost in the sensation of his strong arm firmly holding you in place.

⭐ When you give no response, he tilts his head adorably in confusion and stares at you. And for the briefest of moments, his eyelids lower, his gaze seemingly lingering upon your lips before he licks his own and lets go of your waist, flexing his gloved fingers as he does so.

⭐ He clears his throat, tightens his grip around his sword and resumes his battle stance.

⭐ By the time you've cleared out the wanderers, you want nothing more than to go home. However, Xavier is already approaching you.

⭐ “You seem a little preoccupied. Is that creep bothering you again? Do you need me to beat him up?” He asks.

⭐ “What!?— No! I told you that you can't beat him up!” You wave your hands frantically.

⭐ “Then,” He pauses, his eyes narrowing. “it’s that kiss, isn't it?”

⭐ Your face instantly heats up at his direct mention of the kiss. You aren't good with confrontations, especially not when they involve the very man responsible for the sickness of your heart. So you bite your bottom lip and and try leaving again, hoping this is enough of a response.

⭐ But if there's one thing you've come to learn about Xavier, its that he can be very assertive when he wants to be. And right now he's unrelenting. He grabs you by the wrist, gently making you face him again. “I went a little too far, didn't I? I should've asked you before doing something like that. Let me make up for it.”

⭐ The sincerity in his eyes melts your heart. You're the one who had come to him with such an unusual request. You're the one who said he wasn't convincing enough, so he tried to make it feel more genuine. And yet here he is, not even questioning you for a second but already striving to make up for it.

⭐ You can't let him punish himself for it, especially since he didn't hurt you at all. Only left you wanting for more. “Xavier, you didn't go too far. And I don't want you to make up for it.”

⭐ His thumb runs over the back of your hand. “What do you want then?”

⭐ There's a conviction in his eyes– the same one he has before promising he'll win all the plushies for you at the claw machine, the same one he has when slaying wanderers. And you can't help but be honest with him. “I..I want you to kiss me like that..again..”

⭐ There! You've said it now. To hell with shame! And to hell with frustration! You're too tired to hide your feelings any longer.

⭐ Yet at the same time, the anticipation of his response is stressful. You try to pry your hand free of his hold but it only grows tighter now.

⭐ “You– You didn't mind it?” Xavier's eyes darken. So does his demeanor. He takes a step forward, and you take two back. “You’ve been wanting me..to do it again?”

⭐ You nod slightly, and he exhales a breath.

⭐ Xavier draws you closer, his eyes wordlessly asking permission this time. You nod again.

⭐ The next moment, his lips press softly against yours. And for the first time this week, you feel a little sated. It's not all you have ever wished for. Barely anything at all. But it gives you enough strength to live with your feelings for him.

⭐ The kiss deepens as he pushes you against the nearest tree branch, his lips parting your own. You gasp and turn your face away.

⭐ “Xavier, you don't need to do more.” You whisper breathily. “This is enough.”

⭐ He leans his face down, lips moving along your neck. “It’s hardly enough.”

⭐ Even with the pleasure clouding your thoughts, you remind yourself that you can't keep taking his willingness for granted. You can't let him go on. “Xavier, you don't need to pretend for my sake.”

⭐ “I’m not pretending. I want this too.” His response is immediate. “I’ve been wanting this for a very long time.”

⭐ His words hold weight, unlike any declaration made in the heat of the moment. So you give in. Let his hand guide your thigh around his waist as he kisses you again, under the evening quite of the forest.

RAFAYEL

🌊 “Keep up the act for some more time?” Rafayel asks, surprised.

🌊 It's the day after you'd attended that fancy gala with him. You're both sitting on the couch in his studio and you're the one who give this lame suggestion.

🌊 He rests his chin on the back of his palm and smiles mischievously, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t tell me, Miss Bodyguard..have you caught feelings for me?”

🌊 If you were drinking something, you would've probably sputtered it all over by now. But thankfully, there are no refreshments in your hands, and you will not embarass yourself by admitting how accurate he is in his guess (even if made only in jest).

🌊 You school your face into a stern expression as you look back at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. If we break up right now, after you've been parading me around in everyone's faces, then people will talk. Critics will latch onto this opportunity to write think pieces in hopes of sullying your name. I'm only being cautious as your bodyguard.”

🌊 Rafayel puts a hand over his heart and feigns a hurt expression. “And here I thought you've finally fallen for my irresistible charm.”

🌊 You scoff and roll your eyes. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

🌊 “I don't need to think so because its a fact. I am amazing.” He sits up straight. “Anyways I don't care much for critics. I don't care if people misunderstand or hate my art. But I know Thomas will be pulling his hair out if I get a bad name right now.”

🌊 “So,” He pauses for effect as you edge closer to him in anticipation. “I guess we'll keep running this charade for some more time.”

🌊 Before you can even realize, your lips are stretching up into a small smile. You know this is a foolish arrangement. One that is bound to end in nothing but pure agony for you. Yet you insist on dragging this along because you are desperate for a little more time with him. You cannot imagine going back to simply being Rafayel the painter's “bodyguard”.

🌊 You may have developed feelings for him a long time ago but its that kiss that made you realize how far gone you are for this man.

🌊 And you foolishly hope and believe that not all of it had been a mere act for him either. That there's a possibility of him liking you just a teensy bit. And this crazy belief has deluded you into entertaining fantasies you should not.

🌊 Now that you've had a taste of what it's like to have him as your lover, it's impossible for you to settle for anything less. You want him, and you wish for him to want you too.

🌊 The snap of a finger in front of your face draws you out of your juvenile daydreams. Rafayel is assessing your face. “Where are you? Come back to the real world, Miss Bodyguard. We're discussing some important things here.”

🌊 Your cheeks heat up and you apologize for getting distracted. “Yes, I'm listening. What is it?”

🌊 Rafayel shakes his head but begins explaining. “I’m saying that since we can't break up abruptly, then let's do it,” He pauses again, spreading his arms out and staring up at the high ceiling dramatically. “publicly.”

🌊 Your hear a crumbling sound and feel an ache in your heart. “What does that mean?”

🌊 He grins excitedly. “If we break up publicly, in the presence of a huge crowd with big names and paparazzis around, then surely it will leave little to no room for speculation and criticism.”

🌊 You feel fissures steadily forming on your heart. This isn't what you had expected when you had suggested him to continue on with this charade. A sinking feeling looms over you yet despite that you try your best to force a smile upon your face. “That..seems like an interesting idea.”

🌊 From that point onwards, any time to you meet Rafayel, the passionate kiss you had shared at the gala plays in the back of your mind. And you wonder if you'll ever get to kiss him again, even if only for the sake of this temporary farce.

🌊 Now every time Rafayel steps even an inch closer to you or lowers his head, you find yourself expecting– and hoping for– a kiss. A kiss that sadly never comes.

🌊 And the worst part is that you can't get mad at him. He merely asked you to play pretend. He never asked you to catch feelings. If anything, you should've been just as professional as he is. At least it would've saved you from experiencing the heaviness you feel within your chest.

🌊 But lets ignore all that because today you are at Rafayel’s place to discuss how the two of you will publicly carry out a fake break-up of your fake relationship during an upcoming exhibition.

🌊 Rafayel explains how you are supposed to yell at him during the exhibition, and make sure everyone around hears how difficult it is for you to date someone well-known. That it is becoming impossible for the two of you to make time for each other.

🌊 You scoff. “And then what? You'll say how I've always been nothing but a gold digger, chasing after you for your money and fame?”

🌊 Rafayel claps his hands. “Actually not bad. And then you can say how I am just as rotten as the rest of the celebrities.”

🌊 You can't help but laugh despite the ache in your heart. “This is so trope-y and predictable. No one will buy it.”

🌊 “Oh trust me they will. Everyone loves a little drama.” Rafayel tries convincing you. “You can add a few more insults and break my heart. And I can dedicate my next art piece to you, my cute but cruel ex.”

🌊 You laugh some more and he laughs with you.

🌊 Rafayel may act a little arrogant and childish at times but he is a good person by nature. Whether intentional or not, he always makes you laugh. The time spent in his company may not always be relaxing but it is certainly always entertaining.

🌊 And you realize how these moments will be gone forever after this so-called “break-up”, and how truly unprepared you are to endure it.

🌊 The eve of the exhibition finally arrives.

🌊 Rafayel keeps repeating the things you are supposed to say and do if you are to end this arrangement tonight. But you can only focus on the unease bubbling within your belly.

🌊 He quirks his chin, signaling for you to begin but you find yourself rooted in spot, unable to utter a single word. The unease in your belly grows and you take a deep breath before finally speaking.

🌊 “I’m..I’m getting tired of this.” You mumble softly. You aren't sure if anyone heard that but you continue. “You’re the one who asked me out yet now I feel as if you don't even care.”

🌊 Your voice is shaky now. You're taking in more breaths with every word you speak. Rafayel's calm expression falters as he watches the way you ball your palms into tight fists. “I..I don't think I can go on any longer!”

🌊 Your words resonate with your actual feelings. You really cannot go on like this much longer. You will miss the silly moments spent with him. You will be unable to genuinely smile with him after this. It will become impossible for you to even be his bodyguard. And you don't want that. You don't want any of it!

🌊 The unease in your belly spreads all over your skin like a wildfire. You feel tears streaming down your cheeks as you shake your head at him. “I can't do this.” You choke out before running off, the crowd of people around gasping in shock.

🌊 Rafayel follows right on your heels, grabbing you by the waist before you can trip on the stairs and fall.

🌊 “Let me go!” You yell but he's pulling you into a secluded room.

🌊 “Hey..calm down.” He tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ears and gently wipes your tears with his thumb.

🌊 But you can't do this. You can't tolerate him being so tender with you right before he mercilessly breaks your heart. You step away from him and his eyes widen, a hint of anguish now swimming in them.

🌊 “What's wrong, Y/N?” He asks, calling you by your actual name instead of the nickname he loves so much.

🌊 And you actually respond, words flooding out of your mouth like a crumbling damn. “Rafayel, I can't do this. I am drowning in my feelings for you. And I know it's not your responsibility to feel the same way just cause I do but I..” You sob, unable to say anymore.

🌊 He stares at you for a moment, an unknown emotion alight in his eyes. Then he breaks into a shrill laugh, the sound of it echoing loudly in the silent room. And he wraps his arms around you in an embrace, his shoulders shaking as he laughs some more.

🌊 “Look at you, falling for me just when I try to distance myself from you.” He strokes soothing circles on your back. “When I try to end all this to run away from my own feelings for you..”

🌊 Your own eyes widen now and you pull away to look at him, waiting for him to affirm what he just said. He chuckles, wiping your tear-stained face before leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

🌊 “Yeah yeah I'm madly in love with. And it seems you did, after all, fall for my irresistible charms.” He drawls out as if talking about something insignificant.

🌊 Then he leans closer, his breath tickling your lips. “If you wanted us to date for real, you should've simply asked. Instead you made me chase after you like some besotted prince in a fairy tale.”

🌊 You find yourself laughing at that and he lets out a breath.

🌊 “There’s the laugh.” He murmurs, sealing his lips with yours, his fingers carding through your hair as he tilts your head and deepens the kiss.

Hope it was upto your expectations or atleast as enjoyable as part 1 of this ♡ It's unedited so i apologise for any errors (i'm a little sleepy and will edit later). And thank you for all the love and support on all my LADS headcanons so far 🥹🫶

SEND ME REQUESTS FOR LOVE & DEEPSPACE HEADCANONS VIA ASKS.

» MASTERLIST «

[hederasgarden]

On the Horizon (1/?)

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.  Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 2.5K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, flirting, and asshole!Scott. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged. A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxhear @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Glen Powell Character Masterlist

It’s sweltering in the midday sun and you wipe the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you yearn for the cool, controlled environment of the labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology isn’t even your specialty; you’re here for your engineering skills to manage the specialized equipment the team relies on for their data collection.

Perched on the tailgate of the Storm Par truck, you have a clear view of the other storm chasers clustering around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 

"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.

When you look up again, you catch Tyler watching the two of you. You know he’s more than likely looking for a chance to provoke Scott, but to your surprise, he offers you a wink and pulls down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.

You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he quickly dashed those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team, the sting of his criticism lingering.

Clearing your throat, Scott’s eyes briefly land on you before returning to the computer screen. 

"What?" he demands.

"I was going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively. 

When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station. The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air. 

"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?” He questions, amused. 

"What?"

"Your boss," he clarifies. 

"Oh, he's um...he's not my boss. Javi is."

"No?" he asks, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."

Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.

"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.

You stare at him, unsure how to react to his comment and the suggestive tone. Before today, you’d barely spoken to him, although you get the impression that his flirtatious nature is just a normal part of his outgoing personality. Thankfully, you’re spared from having to figure out how to respond when the doorbell jingles and someone calls your name.

It’s Scott. 

"Owens," he bites out. 

Your lips part in a surprised inhale as he places a hand on your shoulder and stands so close that you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your arm. Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile. 

 "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."

Once he’s gone, Scott moves to stand in front of you "What did he want?" he demands.

"Oh, nothing. Just...saying hi."

Scott tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.

When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his blue eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. Turning back, you find his intense dark blue eyes locked onto yours. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you realize you have Scott’s full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.

You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.

An opportunity arises to put your plan into motion later that night. Nearly everyone has descended on the only motel in town, but no one seems interested in staying in their rooms. Music pumps from Tyler’s red truck and another group grill burgers nearby. Alcohol is flowing freely as different teams mingle.

You spot Scott busy inside the Storm Par command van, completely absorbed in his work. From experience, you know any attempt to pull him away would be pointless, but spending time with Tyler just might. You linger at the edge of the parking lot, trying to muster the courage to approach the Tornado Wrangler crew. They’re sharing beers and laughing, but when you look closer you realize a lot of them are still working in some way or another. Lily has the inner workings of her drone exposed, tinkering while Dani and Tyler look like they’re securing something to the side of his truck.

Suddenly what felt like a great idea earlier now seems silly. So does your sundress and the time you spent making yourself look nice. Any attempt to enact your plan would mean intruding on their little bubble. Besides, you’re not even sure this hairbrained idea would even work on Scott a second time. 

You turn to head back to your room when Tyler calls out, “Hey city girl, you want a beer?”

You freeze, eyes closing briefly as you realize there’s no turning back now. You’ve been spotted. When you face him again Tyler is watching you with a casual, expectant smile. He leans against the hood of his truck with one arm draped over it.

“Come on, we don’t bite,” he encourages. 

“Not unless you ask us to,” Boone chimes in, earning a collective groan and playful slap to the back of his head from Dani.

Someone tosses you a beer, and you fumble to catch it. It’s icy and slippery. Tyler watches you with a raised eyebrow as a slow, amused smile spreads across his face. You’ve never felt less cool in your life and you end up looking anywhere but him. 

“Hey…you’re an engineer right?” Lily calls out. “You wanna take a look at the wing here? She’s giving me some trouble.”

You glance at the Storm Par van, half expecting Scott to come to scold you for even considering helping the enemy, but he’s still inside. 

“Tin Man seems pretty tied up with his work,” Tyler observes. “I think you’re safe to join us, Dorothy.”

You blink, both surprised and a bit embarrassed to realize just how obvious you must be. “Uh, yeah, I can take a look,” you tell Lily.

She grins, shifting back on her heels. You follow her over to the truck to examine the drone. Lily talks you through everything she’s already tried so far with Cairo and you ask her a few questions in return. After a bit of trial and error, you identify the issue. Thankfully it's a quick fix. 

Boone lets out a low whistle, impressed. “You know, if things don’t pan out with the corporate overlords, I bet Ty would offer you a spot on our team.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, watching Tyler round the truck and draw closer to you.

“I’m a much nicer boss than Scout,” he promises.

“He’s not my boss,” you remind Tyler. “And his name is Scott.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he intones, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but the way he’s looking at you.

You let out a nervous little chuckle, realizing that you hadn’t actually planned for anything beyond capturing Tyler’s attention. Glancing down at the beer in your hands, you fiddle with the label until Tyler takes the bottle. He twists off the cap and hands it back without a word.

You offer him a quick, “thanks,” and take a sip. The lukewarm, hoppy flavor tingles on your tongue. You make a face.

“Not a beer girl?” Tyler asks, drawing back to give you a thoughtful once-over. He hums consideringly. “No, you strike me as a rosé-all-day type.”

“Actually, I’m a whisky girl,” you lie, grinning at the surprised blink you get in response.

“I must be losing my touch,” he confesses, leaning into your space and letting you catch the faint scent of his cologne or deodorant—something sharp and clean like the ozone that lingers in the air after a storm. “Unless, of course, you’re just messing with me,” he continues. “But you wouldn’t do something like that, would you, city girl?”

The way he stares at you suggests that he’s not just talking about your choice of drink. Before you can stop yourself, you look over his shoulder, searching for Scott. Tyler doesn’t turn to see what has your attention. He doesn’t need to, you realize.

“A lesser man might take that as a blow to his ego.” His tone is teasing as he uses two fingers under your chin to gently guide your gaze back to him. “Lucky for you, darlin’, I’m a big boy.”

A prickling warmth spreads across your body, and your jaw muscles tingle with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. You must have been horribly transparent in your attempt, you realize.

“I’m not…I didn’t,” you stumble over your words as Tyler’s smile grows.

“The decent thing to do is ask,” he encourages. He cranes his neck behind him and you see Scott’s finally noticed the two of you together. “Better make it quick, he’s on his way over here now.” 

“What?”

“You know what,” he replies, tapping your nose.

Panic settles in, your reluctance to admit what you were trying to do warring with your desire to get Scott’s attention. “Okay, okay, fine,” you relent. “I’m trying to make Scott jealous.”

You can see Scott over Tyler’s shoulder now, his expression dark. He’s second away from being in hearing range. “Tyler. Please.”

“Well since you said the magic word.” 

He turns and in one smooth motion throws his arm over your shoulder to draw you in close. That seems to surprise Scott whose pace slows as he approaches. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest as you gaze up at him, acutely aware of Tyler’s body pressed firmly against your side.

“Hey, Scooter,” Tyler greets. “Want a beer?”

Scott’s cheek ripples in annoyance. “No,” he says curtly. 

“Suit yourself.” Tyler shrugs. He grabs the bottle in your hand and takes a long drink from it before handing it back to you. “Nothing better than a cold one after a day of chasing storms.”

Scott’s nostrils flare and he utters your name in a clipped tone. 

“Uh, I better go,” you tell Tyler. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Well, I hope to see more of you later, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink. 

The second you’re within reach, Scott’s hand is on your upper back and quickly moves to rest at the base of your neck. You feel a little like an errant school child with the way he guides you past the rest of Tyler’s crew, whose goodbyes are decidedly less enthusiastic than their welcome. Boone glances between you and Scott, making a face that you can’t quite decipher.

“I thought you were headed to bed early,” Scott accuses as soon as you’re out of earshot of the crew. He’s tense beside you, fingers flexing against your skin. 

“I was but then the Wrangler crew invited me to join them for a beer.” He doesn’t need to know you sought them out for your ill-conceived plan. 

Scott scoffs, moving in front of you. He stares down at you. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time with those hillbillies.” 

“They aren’t so bad,” you defend until he pins you with a quelling look. You know Scott well enough by now to drop the topic, even if his words don’t sit quite right with you. Tyler and his friends were nothing but kind to you tonight.

“Storm Par can’t be seen spending time with those amateurs. It’s bad for business. You should know better.”

You realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not jealous — he’s just angry. He’d probably be just as upset if another member of your team was seen mingling with the so-called enemy. How could you have been stupid enough to think talking to Tyler would make him want you again? 

“Come on,” Scott urges, seemingly intent on walking you back to your hotel room. 

At the door, you wave the card over the keypad and shoulder the old, warped door open. Before you can turn to bid Scott a good night a hand on your hips pushes you forward and he follows you inside. The door shuts and he plucks the keycard from your hands, thoughtlessly tossing it on the bedside table.

His mouth is on yours before you can speak, his hands grabbing at the hem of your sundress. The shift in his mood is enough to disorient you and you don’t resist when his tongue invades your mouth. The back of your knees hit the bed and then he’s on top of you, warm and solid. He pulls roughly at the strap of your dress, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin. When you feel his hand land on your inner thigh you push at his chest. 

“Wait, Scott,” you breathe. This feels nothing like your last time together. 

He pulls back, a tick in his jaw as he stares down at you. “It's been a long day,” he says, “and we both know you want this.”

You do want him, more than anything, but there’s something about his tone and words that dredge up an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. It makes your skin prickle, and you avert your gaze, suddenly uncertain. Above you, Scott sighs, and you feel his fingertips gently touch your jaw. You think of Tyler suddenly, his teasing tone and the amusement in his green eyes. When you look back at Scott, his unreadable blue eyes meet yours. 

The bed creaks as he shifts back. “I can just go,” he offers.

“No, please don’t.” The words escape your lips before you even realize you’ve spoken. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. Scott’s the kind of man you always dreamed about, handsome and intelligent – one of those Ivy League boys who never looked twice at you in college. 

“Good answer,” he says with a smile.

You pull him closer, and as his lips find yours once more, the lingering discomfort fades away. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted.

 Aren’t you?

Part 2

♡

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