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vktrjyce · 27 days ago

Text

tell me that i'm what you need

a jayvik college au

length: 6.8k

author's note: them in a college au has been rotting in my brain since I finished act 3, and i had to write it. it's completely self-indulgent and i understand that and i do not apologize. i have TONS more ideas for this so if it gets enough traction maybe i'll write more LMAOOO. jayvik has their hooks in me good you guys. anyways, thanks so much for reading!! i hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to leave likes and comments! i'd love to hear any feedback or thoughts :) have a great day!!

there is also a playlist that goes along with this fic!

tags: college party ; weed smoking ; trans viktor ; sub jayce talis ; dom viktor ; college au ; shotgunning ; making out ; sexuality crisis ; first meeting ; viktor is hot and confident and jayce loves it ; they're both idiots

warnings: sexual content, weed smoking

summary: Jayce goes to a party with Caitlyn and gets more than he bargained for when he meets a handsome stranger in the basement.

originally posted by vktrjyce

Jayce followed Caitlyn into the overflowing house, wincing at the music pounding against his skull. Three different people bumped into him in the foyer alone, the third spilling an obscene amount of beer on his shoes. He grimaced, waved away the guy’s half-assed apology, and attempted to adjust to the stickiness. It felt a little like he’d surpassed his age of enjoying parties like this. Or maybe he simply needed to be with the right crowd.

This did not feel like his crowd.

“Cait!” He shouted over the music, grabbing his companion’s arm. She turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “This is really how you want to spend your Friday night?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and leaned towards him, “Vi invited me! I couldn’t exactly say no.”

He overdramatically rolled his eyes, a knowing smile on his face, “So your girlfriend’s the partying type?”

Caitlyn’s own eyes widened, her cheeks going slightly pink, “She’s not my girlfriend! Yet…” She shook her head, dark blue strands swaying back and forth, “And her sister threw this party. She’s just along for the ride.”

“Mmhmm.” Jayce scanned the crowd, looking for a head of hot-pink hair he’d only heard about in stories, “So, where is she?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see her from he-”

“Cupcake!” A muscled arm landed on Caitlyn’s shoulders, simultaneously knocking her into Jayce’s side. The owner of said arm had the exact hair he’d been on the lookout for. Also, the ‘Vi’ tattooed on her face was sort of a dead giveaway, “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Caitlyn looked over at Vi, a pleasant smile sliding across her face. She leaned into the woman, “What, and leave you to your own devices? I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue.”

“You think so low of me. I’m hurt.” Vi teased, before her eyes landed on Jayce, “Who’s this?”

Caitlyn answered before he had a chance to, “This is Jayce Talis. I’ve told you about him.”

Jayce, in turn, offered a polite smile and a small wave.

“So, this is the brainiac?” Vi gave him a once-over, pursing her lips, “Quite the pretty boy, isn’t he?”

He choked out a slightly embarrassed chuckle, resisting the urge to rub at the back of his neck. His Mother always scolded him for having such an obvious nervous tick.

“Don’t say that, it’ll go right to his head.” Cait retorted, giving her friend a knowing look, “And it’s big enough already.”

The man barked out a laugh, “There’s better ways to show off than making fun of me, you know.”

Once again, her eyes widened, “I wasn’t-”

“Aww, are you trying to seduce me with your stuck-upness?” Vi cooed, pinching Caitlyn’s cheek. Though she scrunched up her nose, she didn’t pull away from the touch, “If you are, it’s working.”

“You’re an idiot.” She deadpanned, and then looked back at Jayce, “You both are.”

“I guess you attract them.” He winked at her.

“I like this guy. He’s not all prude and stiff like most of the people you introduce me to.” Vi commented, grinning, “We could have some fun together, pretty boy.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Vi.”

“I don’t know, the thought of you two together doesn’t sit well with me.” Caitlyn piped up, “And I absolutely do not want to be demoted to third-wheel.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that.” Jayce gave her a knowing look, sending her gaze to the floor. So he turned it on Vi. She smirked in response.

“You guys want a drink? The kitchen’s stocked with all kinds of stuff.” She offered, pulling Caitlyn closer to her.

“I wouldn’t mind a drink.” His friend responded. She looked at Jayce with a warning on her face. He was no longer welcome in the group.

He heard her loud and clear.

“You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go mingle for a bit.” He told them, taking a step back, “We’ll meet back up later.”

Caitlyn’s look turned grateful, eyes sparkling in the strobe lights. Vi nodded at his declaration.

“Alright, see you later, then.” She bid him adieu, turning Caitlyn (presumably) towards the kitchen.

As they walked away, he heard his friend ask, “Where’s Jinx?”

“Somewhere causing problems, probably. I think she was trying to make fireworks or something.” Vi’s response came, and then they were out of earshot. And Jayce was all alone.

He shifted his weight, patted his hands against his pants, and then decided he should do something. Something other than standing in the middle of this room. Watching the party go on without him. Like a loser.

He sucked in a deep breath and moved further into the house.

People were dancing, mingling, playing games, and making out on practically every available surface. He could only imagine what others were getting up to in the non-public spaces. He’d had his own fair share of trysts in his younger days. Now, though, he much preferred a quiet night in or hyperfocusing on a new project. Cait always teased him for ‘turning into an old man.’

Maybe she had a point. Just a little bit.

It took Jayce a 10-minute conversation with Salo and another 15 minutes of standing against a wall before the noise and the lights became too much. He was uncomfortable, on his way to overstimulated, and in desperate need of a small respite. So he went looking for one.

All the bedrooms were… occupied. The bathroom, when not occupied, was more of a cesspool of untoward activity than a sanctuary. The backyard was just as loud as anywhere else. All that left him with was the closed basement door. Which had an eccentric, bright pink ‘Stay Out!!!’ spray-painted on it.

He did feel bad about ignoring the warning, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Jayce opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind him. The immediate quiet, even with the muffled music through the wall, sent relief through his body. He sighed and walked down the stairs. About halfway down, a familiar skunk-like smell wafted its way up to him. But since he’d already committed, he simply wrinkled his nose and kept going.

He stepped off the final stair, turned the corner, and took a look around the room.

It was a typical basement- a couple of couches, a TV, a coffee table, and various movie and show posters on the walls. The lights were off, save for a warm-colored lamp on the table. None of it was out of the ordinary. Nothing particularly caught his eye.

What did gain his attention, though, was the man on the couch.

Pale and lanky, long brown hair with strands of blonde pulled into a low bun, clad in a burgundy cardigan and black sweats with a leg brace on the right knee. Only his side profile was visible from here, showing off a long nose and sharp cheekbones. A beauty mark sat above his thin, pink lips, which were currently wrapped around a half-smoked joint. His long lashes fluttered closed as he inhaled, pulled the joint from his mouth, and laid his head back against the couch. One long finger tapped against it.

Jayce was, for one moment, very taken aback. If this guy was a girl, he’d be stunning.

“Uh-” He grunted out, like an idiot.

The man’s eye opened, iris sliding in his direction. No other part of him moved. He exhaled the smoke and closed his eye again, “The bathroom is upstairs, on the second level. At the end of the hall.”

As if this stranger’s looks weren’t enough of a shock, his words came out accented. It sounded Russian, or maybe Czech. It made him sound melodic, like voicing an elegant song instead of speaking. Jayce found himself wanting to hear more.

“Oh, no, I, uh-” Jayce cleared his throat, then tried again, “Sorry, I was actually just trying to find a quiet place for a minute. All the noise was… it was a little much.”

The man’s eyes opened again, and this time he turned his head towards Jayce. The latter discovered two distinct things at that moment.

One, he had another beauty mark. Under his right eye, lighter than the one above his mouth.

Two, the attractiveness increased tenfold when he saw his whole face. A few strands of his hair had fallen out of the bun and framed his face. Seriously, he could be a model or something.

The stranger raised a thick, dark eyebrow, “Why come to a party if the party is going to be ‘a little much’?”

“Well, that’s not-” He scoffed, rubbing a hand over his jaw, “I didn’t- I came with a friend, so.”

Piercing golden eyes watched him with mild curiosity, “And where is your friend now?”

“She’s with her- you know what? It doesn’t matter.” Jayce shook his head, feeling a little disgruntled, “You’re the one hiding down here all by yourself.”

“Well, I live here. I can’t exactly escape the party.” He explained, tilting his head from side to side, “This was supposed to be my safe haven.”

Jayce ignored the last part, partly out of stubbornness, and responded with a question, “You live here? I thought Vi’s sister was the host.”

“Jinx.” The man explained, looking away. It gave Jayce a chance to take a deep breath. He felt like a bug under a magnifying glass with those eyes on him, “And she is. She’s my roommate. One of them.”

“Jinx? What kind of a name is that?” He chuckled.

There was no response. Only a noncommittal shrug as he lifted the joint to his lips once again. A motion by which Jayce found himself hypnotized. The slender fingers holding it, the way his lips pursed as he inhaled, the twitching of his eyelids. It looked so natural- as simple as breathing. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t realize the man’s gaze was on him again.

“Do you want some?” He asked, jolting Jayce out of his trance and offering the weed up.

He could feel his face heating up, both from being caught staring and from the offer. He’d had weed a couple of times in the past, but it never ended well. Whether it be not knowing his own limits or peer pressure, he always went too far and got too anxious to enjoy it. He was open to it, but that didn’t stop him from feeling nervous. A familiar emotion right now.

“Oh, I uh- I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

The man smiled, just a small thing, but it made a certain softness take over his face, “A little late for that, no?”

His cheeks were sure to be bright red now. He laughed nervously.

The good-looking stranger shook his head, gesturing for Jayce to come closer, “I’m joking. Come. The company might be nice.”

“Are you sure?” The question came out hesitant, but he was already moving over to the couch. Something about the way this guy spoke made him feel compelled to listen.

However, that could be the sleep deprivation talking. Or he’d finally lost it. Both were possibilities.

“I find you… intriguing.” His new acquaintance told him, watching as he sat on the opposite side of the couch, “Besides, you said you needed a moment of quiet.”

“I guess that’s true.” He shrugged, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Mm.” Humming, he offered the joint to Jayce once again. This time, he took it.

It was only then that he realized there was a cane resting next to the man. Silver with a red and gold handle, decorated with graffiti that matched the ‘keep out’ sign on the door. He wondered if it was the stranger’s doing, but that felt unlikely. It didn’t seem like his style.

Jayce took a drag, forcing himself not to cough as the marijuana burned all the way down. He really was not used to this sensation. The only thing worse than the burn, though, would be looking like a fool in front of this interesting guy he’d just met. He had to play it cool.

God, he was such a loser.

“You’re supposed to exhale it, you know.” The man spoke up, amusement lacing that magnetizing accent. It was just shy of patronizing, which strangely made his stomach coil.

This entire interaction was making Jayce’s head spin a little bit.

He let the smoke out in one quick breath, which immediately sent him into a coughing fit. He hunched over himself, hitting a fist against his chest in an attempt to clear the pipe. He didn’t think this could get any worse. Either the humiliation or the coughing would kill him. A death that he’d happily embrace.

“There, there. Easy.” A hand rested on his back, lithe fingers rubbing into the muscles, “You haven’t smoked much, I see.”

Jayce barely noticed the hand on him, too preoccupied with trying not to die. He shook his head, letting out a hoarse, “Not really.”

“Here.” The joint was taken from his hand and replaced with a glass of water, “Drink.”

He didn’t hesitate to chug half of it. Then he slumped back against the couch, eyes closed as he took a few deep breaths. The burn had subsided, leaving only a bit of irritation in his throat. At the very least, he’d stopped coughing. Small victories.

“Are you alright?”

Jayce looked over at the stranger- his savior, in a way- and froze. Those amber eyes were locked on him, rimmed with red, and hungry. That feeling in his chest tightened, making him feel on edge.

He swallowed, “Yeah. Yeah, uh, sorry. I don’t- I’m sorta new to this.”

The man tucked some hair behind his ear and laid his arm over the back of the couch. His hand was only a few inches away from Jayce’s face.

“Was this your first time?”

“No.” He shook his head, “I’ve done it a couple times before. Just… not in a while.”

“I see.” He picked at a loose thread sticking out of the cushion, “Did you enjoy it? In the past?”

Jayce’s mind was starting to feel foggy. He pursed his lips, “It wasn’t bad. I think I just… I did too much too fast. Got in over my head.”

“Mm, you seem like the type.” The man’s fingernails were painted black, the polish chipped, “To get in over your head, that is.”

“Yeah?” He smiled lazily at his new friend, “What about you?”

The man shook his head immediately, “Definitely not. I am always calm and collected. Just don’t ask anyone close to me for a second opinion on that.”

That made him laugh. He laid a hand over his stomach, head tilted back. When he looked back at the stranger, still chuckling, there was something close to admiration on the guy’s face. Again, his stomach did a flip. What a strange way this night was going.

“What’s your name?” He asked, voice deeper and accent more prominent.

“Jayce.” He responded, “Jayce Talis. You?”

“Viktor.” The man told him, and it was perfect. He couldn’t think of a better-fitting name.

“It’s nice to meet you. Even if I made a complete fool of myself with the weed.”

Viktor snorted out a laugh, taking another hit from the joint. He made it look effortless, “Not at all. You’re new to it. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

“You never get sick of it?”

“Never. It helps too much. With the, eh, pain. And, you know, it quiets the mind.”

“Right.” He gestured to the leg brace, “I don’t wanna pry, but I assume that’s what you’re talking about.”

“Well, there are worse ways to be nosy.” He responded, screwing up his lips, “You’d be right, though. It’s my bad leg. I was born with it.”

“I’m sorry.” Jayce blurted, because he felt like an idiot. The weed definitely wasn’t helping with his stupidness, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, that’s fair. I just don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“My hero.” Viktor deadpanned, rolling his pretty eyes, “Can you feel it yet?”

Jayce furrowed his brows, “Feel- oh, the weed?”

The other man nodded in confirmation.

“A little. I don’t think I had much, honestly.”

“Do you want more?”

“And have another coughing fit? I can’t take more embarrassment, Viktor.”

He chuckled, “You’ll survive. And we can try another way to get it down for you.”

“Another way? Like what?”

Something mischievous had crossed over his face, which was slightly scary, “I believe most people call it, uh… shotgunning. Have you heard of it?”

Jayce most definitely had. And the prospect was simultaneously intriguing and panic-inducing to him.

Viktor was nice and funny, and he was good-looking. But shotgunning was sort of… an intimate thing? In a way? The kind of thing you did when you wanted to get up close and personal with someone?

Was that what Viktor wanted? Was he coming onto Jayce?

If he was, well, that was flattering. But Jayce wasn’t really… he’d done stuff with men before. The typical college, experimenting stuff. And it was fine- wasn’t terrible. But he didn’t think that was really… him.

But he was also a little high. And spiraling. And he was having a good time with Viktor and he didn’t want it to end.

So what the hell? Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?

“Yeah, I- I think I have.” He spoke, finally giving in and rubbing at the back of his neck, “We could give it a shot. If you want.”

“Excellent.” Viktor patted the empty spot next to him, “Come.”

Jayce followed the order with no hesitation. Like a dog obeying the commands of his master. Something about it made the other man’s eyes light up, much to his confusion.

“So, how are we-”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. The words were cut off as Viktor slid onto his legs, seating himself right on Jayce’s lap. It sent his brain, his heart, his whole body into overdrive. It didn’t even occur to him to move him, though. He was too busy trying to remember how to breathe. Not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely slightly unnerving.

Friends could do stuff like this, right?

Did Jayce even want to just be friends? Was there something more here?

Viktor smelled like weed, cinnamon, and old paper. It drew him in with every breath.

Jayce, even with his sluggish mind, was coming to a semi-realization. While he couldn’t be sure how true it would feel in the light of day, it felt true now. Which could mean tons of things, honestly.

Jayce was realizing that he liked this feeling. He liked the buzzing under his skin, the fogginess behind his eyes. He liked the weight of Viktor on him, liked the smell of Viktor, liked Viktor. Something about him was just so magnetizing. It made him nervous. This whole thing did. But he found that he didn’t really mind it.

This was surely a crisis in the making. Something to be dealt with and reflected on in the sober light of day. He could analyze every move, second-guess every word and every reaction. He could take the time to nitpick his feelings until everything was clear. But right now, that didn’t matter.

Right now, he felt good. And he wanted to keep doing what felt good. That should be simple enough.

He nodded to himself. Literally. He probably looked like a freak to his companion. If he did, he garnered no reaction.

“Open your mouth,” Viktor told him, raising the joint to his lips.

Fuck. A cacophony of not-appropriate things flitted through his mind in reaction to the words. Not on purpose.

“Wait-” He heard himself saying, which was the opposite of what his heart (and his dick) wanted him to do. Apparently, his head still had the wheel.

Jayce rested his hands on Viktor’s hips to stop him. Even through the thick cardigan, the latter’s hip bones were prominent. It made something twist unhappily in Jayce’s chest.

Viktor did wait, pausing with a raised eyebrow and the weed an inch or two from his mouth.

“A-are you okay like this?” Jayce stuttered out, looking up at the star of his current dilemma, “Your leg-”

The questioning look on Viktor’s face turned to amusement, and he tilted his head, “That’s what you’re worried about? You idiot.”

The word didn’t even sting like it would’ve from anyone else. It sounded like an endearment more than anything.

“My leg is fine.” He hummed, resting a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. The weight was nice, soothing, “I’ve lived with it all my life. I know what I can handle.”

Did weed have some sort of magical attraction properties? The sensation in his chest certainly felt like something out of a fairytale.

“Okay.” Jayce exhaled shakily- again, not on purpose, “Okay. I just wanted to check.”

“How kind of you.” That hand left his arm, coming back a moment later as Viktor grabbed his chin. He squeezed lightly, causing Jayce’s lips to pucker, “Are you ready?”

Jayce nodded eagerly, giggling. Any harder and his head probably would’ve snapped off.

Viktor gave him a look of approval that made his lungs ache, “Inhale when I exhale. Yes?”

He swallowed, “Yes.”

The man half-smiled, gave him a little nod, and took a long drag. It looked so easy, so beautiful, when he did it. Which was a strange thing to think. A strange action to find beautiful. But it was, nevertheless.

Jayce parted his lips when Viktor lowered his hand, watching with expectant eyes as the man leaned toward him. Their noses brushed, sending a tingle through his skin. His breath hitched, and then the smoke was blown into his mouth. He closed his eyes and inhaled.

It burned again, but he loved it this time. It filled his chest, his brain, left him feeling a little weightless.

There was no coughing when he exhaled. Only the relief of subsided stinging, the warmth of Viktor against him. His nerves began to hum from his head to his toes.

He was pretty sure he understood what all the hype was about now. Why the drug was so popular.

But then again, that could all be because of Viktor.

Viktor, Viktor, Viktor.

“So beautiful.” He heard his companion say, and there was a thumb brushing over his bottom lip.

Jayce blinked his eyes open. It was harder than usual. Everything felt a little sluggish.

Viktor was watching him. The whites of his starlight eyes were red, his gaze half-lidded, and that hunger was back. He looked like a cat on the prowl. Stalking its prey.

Jayce had never been so pleased to feel like a cornered mouse.

“Do you like men, Jayce?”

“Do I-?” The question echoed his own thoughts bouncing around his mind. It sent a strike of panic through him, slightly dampened by the drug in his veins. He didn’t really have an answer for him. This night had brought up a lot of feelings on that exact topic, and most of them were muddy. It was terrifying, “I don’t… I’m not really sure, Viktor.”

“Allow me to rephrase my question, then.” He hummed, and he was back to brushing his fingers over Jayce’s face. His lips, cheeks, nose, the space between his eyebrows, “Do you want to kiss me?”

This question was much simpler. But it wasn’t much easier to answer.

He really liked Viktor. He was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Viktor was funny and he had a nice accent and his face was- honestly, the only word that came to mind was beautiful. He’d never found a man beautiful before.

Jayce wanted the answer to be easy. He wanted it to come to him like a reflex. But he was scared. The fear was holding him back.

He tried to remind himself of the vow he’d made only a bit ago. Analyze emotions later, do what feels good now.

If Viktor was a woman, Jayce knew what his answer would be. And that should be enough for now. He met Viktor’s gaze once more.

“Yes.” He whispered. It felt a little like signing his death sentence.

“Go on, then.” Their noses were touching again. Viktor’s skin was cold on his. Or maybe Jayce’s was just unusually hot.

“You want me to?” Jayce was over-thinking. As he, clearly, had a tendency to do. But some part of him felt like this was all a prank, or a dream. Surely, the moment he leaned forward it would all go up in a cloud of smoke.

“Take what you want, Jayce.” His voice was lower, deeper. The words curled with his accent, like music notes drifting through the air, “Hesitate, and the opportunity will slip through your fingers.”

That was all the push he needed.

He kissed Viktor. Slowly at first, awkwardly. He was giggling again, mostly out of nervousness. Jayce had experience in kissing- 95% of it was with women. And this was different.

He’d lean forward and end up squishing their noses together. Let out a chuckle, re-adjust, try again. Their teeth clacked together on the next kiss, a jarring sensation that made them both flinch. Still, they were smiling and touching and going for more. Jayce tried to kiss him and missed, planting a smooch right on his chin.

“Shit-” He snickered, pulling away. His cheeks were red-hot, “Sorry, sorry.”

“Don’t be. And don’t be nervous.” Viktor’s eyes crinkled a little as he smiled, “We’re in no rush.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He took a stabilizing breath, half-grinning, “Can I try again?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Jayce laughed and kissed him again. A little more sure this time, but just as sloppy. He leaned up off the couch, pressing his hand into the small of Viktor’s lower back. Needing him closer, closer, closer. His lips tasted like raspberries.

Viktor’s fingers tangled into Jayce’s hair, keeping his head right where he wanted. He kissed him like he was a master at it, like it was something he’d done a million times. It made Jayce feel very, very inadequate.

He nipped at Jayce’s bottom lip, pulled back enough that Jayce had to chase him for more, then plunged right back in. A gentle tug on the locks in Viktor’s hands had Jayce’s mouth falling open. Viktor’s tongue slipped inside a moment later. One of his hands came to rest on Viktor’s face, thumb brushing over that sharp cheekbone. He allowed himself to be manhandled- let Viktor use his mouth as he pleased. He couldn’t stop fucking smiling.

“There we go, you’re getting the hang of it,” Viktor murmured against his lips. His kisses moved to Jayce’s chin, mouthing along his jawline, “So eager, too. Like a puppy. Will you wag your tail if I call you a good boy?”

He wanted to be embarrassed about the comparison. Wanted to not like the insinuation as much as he did. Mostly, though, he just wanted more Viktor.

“Fuck.” He breathed, tilting his head back to give the other man more access. His pants were starting to strain a little bit.

“I think that’s a yes.” He whispered, his breath sending goosebumps across Jayce’s skin.

Viktor’s kisses moved up, up, up, until he was nibbling on Jayce’s earlobe. He gave it one sharp tug.

And Jayce fucking whimpered.

He’d never made that noise before. He didn’t even know he could make that noise. It definitely didn’t sound like something that would’ve come out of him. But it had. His face was on fire.

“Oh, you like that?” Viktor practically purred. He pulled away to look at Jayce, and his hazy eyes widened a bit, “You didn’t know you liked that.”

“No, I-” He swallowed, shifting a little in his seat, “I didn’t mean to make that… noise.”

As if his inexperience wasn’t bad enough, now he was making sounds that could only be labeled as pathetic. Viktor must have thought he was such an idiot.

The man frowned, pink lips forming an adorable pout, “I put work into getting that noise from you. I’d appreciate if you didn’t try to downplay it.”

Jayce blinked up at him, “You liked it?”

Viktor stared at him like he was an idiot. Jayce could only focus on how pretty he was like that.

“Kiss me again?” He pleaded, because the way his head was already spinning wasn’t enough. He needed more.

His companion was happy to oblige.

The kiss was back to passionate and sloppy, all tongue and teeth and wandering hands. Jayce’s shirt got halfway unbuttoned, Viktor’s hair was let down, and the forgotten cup of water was kicked onto the carpet. Neither of them noticed, or maybe they didn’t care. Too caught up in each other to remember there was a whole world around them.

They’d fallen into a rhythm, moving together like partners in a dance. It was euphoric.

“Shit-” Jayce moaned, eyes rolled back as the other man sucked at his neck.

Viktor ran his tongue down Jayce’s pulse point, kissed the spot right above his collarbone, and then bit down. Hard.

Jayce hissed at the sting, then grunted as it immediately turned into pleasure. All of his blood had gone South. His head was blissfully empty. Had he ever felt so needy in his life? If he had, he definitely couldn’t remember it.

Viktor slid his hands down Jayce’s arms, interlocking them with the ones still on his waist. His fingers were slender against Jayce’s, bony and long while the other’s were thick and strong. They fit together perfectly.

Viktor kissed him again, then again. Little pecks that left him desperate for more.

“Had enough yet?” He asked through the kisses, his lips swollen and red, “Perhaps you should return to the- mm- party. If you’ve had your moment of quiet.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Jayce asked, his breathing ragged. The question was asked jokingly, but it made his chest ache. Maybe he was doing terribly- maybe this wasn’t as good for Viktor as it was for him. He squeezed Viktor’s hands, still clasped in his own, “And here I thought we were having such a good time.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” He shot back, attempting to hide the amused smile on his lips. He certainly thought himself funny. It made Jayce’s fear die down, just a little, “Be a good boy and lay me down. I need to rest my leg.”

The nickname went straight to his dick. It also made him sit there for a solid five seconds like an idiot as his mind tried to process the words. Then he did, and it immediately had his heart lunging with worry.

“Does it hurt?” Jayce asked earnestly, hooking his hands under Viktor’s thighs to lay him down on the couch. He knelt in between the man’s legs, the right one stretched out and relaxed.

Viktor let out a relieved sigh as he settled into the couch, “It was starting to pinch. Nothing too bad, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” Jayce asked softly, one hand holding him up while the other held Viktor’s hip. He watched the man closely, worriedly, “We can stop if-”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No!” He choked out, dark strands falling over his forehead. The answer came out faster than his mind could keep up. Complete instinct. He furrowed his brows, “No, I don’t. I just am… worried.”

“Jayce, I am high out of my mind, having my way with a beautiful boy. I am fine.”

He grinned at the sentiment, even as it made his face heat up, “Beautiful? Really?”

Viktor rolled his red-tinged eyes, “You know you’re beautiful. I won’t feed your ego. Come and kiss me more, yes?”

Jayce giggled. He leaned down, “Yes.”

It was easier to kiss Viktor like this- more familiar. He still wasn’t the one leading, but it did feel like he had more control. Not that he’d minded being at the mercy of his companion.

Jayce’s hand slid down the other man’s hip, grasping his thigh and pulling the leg against his waist. He could nearly wrap his hand entirely around the limb, fingertips almost touching. It made something primal, maybe territorial, bloom in his chest. Viktor was so fucking skinny.

“Mm-” Viktor gasped as their groins slotted together, fingers digging into Jayce’s shoulders. He looked up with those pretty sunset eyes, lips parted, “Jayce.”

If he was sober, Jayce would’ve realized that his name sounded a little like a warning. But he was high, he was horny, and he had never been much of a good listener. And Viktor smelled so good and his skin was soft and Jayce was kissing up and down his throat. Really, it wasn’t his fault. He had too much he was preoccupied with.

He rolled his hips again, desperate for friction, and paused. Something about that was… off. It didn’t feel how it should.

“Hold on,” Viktor spoke up again, another warning. Jayce couldn’t hear him- he was too busy thinking.

The cogs in his head were turning, and he was realizing, and- Shit. He pulled away like he’d been burned. He watched with wide eyes as Viktor sat up, the latter’s expression nearing resignation.

“Jayce-” He began, and it sounded like the beginning of an explanation.

Once again, Jayce was not listening. How the hell was Viktor so calm? This was serious!

“Oh my God.” He breathed out, running a hand through his already messy hair. He sat back on his heels, “Oh my God, Viktor, where’s your dick? What happened to it?”

The other man watched him in stunned silence. It was totally unnerving. Really, why wasn’t he freaking out?!

“Did I crush it? Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that was possible. My Mom always told me I had more strength than I knew what to do with, I just didn’t think it could do this-”

Viktor snorted. Loud and sharp enough that it shut Jayce up, quieted his mind. The two stared at each other for three long seconds.

Then Viktor started laughing.

The sound was light, a little wheezy, and beautiful. Despite the strangeness of the situation, it made Jayce smile. He’d never heard a laugh quite like it.

Still, that didn’t take away from the very real panic coursing through him.

“Jayce, you are- oh, God.” He chuckled, covering his mouth with a hand, “It is a good thing you have your looks.”

He furrowed his brows. His brain was very slow right now and he was very, very confused. Shaking his head, he rested a hand on Viktor’s knee, “I don’t understand.”

The smile the man gave Jayce was equal parts fondness and patronization, “I don’t have a, eh, dick, as you so eloquently put it. I never have.”

Jayce tilted his head to the side as if things would make more sense at a 45-degree angle. He blinked once, twice, three times, “What?”

Viktor rolled his eyes, more for theatrics than anything else, “To put it technically, I was born a female. Which took me very little time to realize was not the case. Thus, here I am now. Not a female. My body simply… is a little behind in the process.”

“Oh.”

Jayce was the dumbest fucking idiot in the world. His face was absolutely on fire, embarrassment burning through him. Part of him hoped death would just take him now, or that this was all a dream he’d wake up from. If only to save himself from the humiliation. Viktor must have been kicking himself for spending time with such an imbecile.

“Is that a problem for you?” Viktor asked when Jayce stayed silent, an incredulous eyebrow raised. The warmth was gone from him, defenses raised as he waited for an answer.

Jayce lurched forward, desperate to fix the situation, to stop being so damn stupid. A large hand cupped Viktor’s cheek, “No! No, not at all. I’m sorry, I just- I feel so stupid.” He laughed, more self-deprecating than anything, “You’re great, Viktor- wonderful. And I’m an idiot. I didn’t- I’m sorry, my brain is not working. It’s not a problem. I like you how you are.”

The word vomit spewing from him was grating on his nerves, making him cringe. He wanted to curl into a ball and die. This was the worst.

He expected Viktor to pull away. To tell him to leave, that they were done and Jayce was unwelcome. He expected to be shunned for his idiocy. He would’ve deserved it, too.

Instead, the man huffed out a laugh. He shook his head, “I’m not sure I’d go so far as to call you an idiot, Jayce. But it certainly was not one of your finest moments.”

“Definitely not.” He grinned, running his thumb over the sharp cheekbone, “Try not to hold it against me? I don’t care that you’re a guy without a dick. I like you. I’m just very high.”

“Oh, you like me?” Viktor wrapped a hand around Jayce’s forearm, “You just met me.”

He gave a half-assed shrug, getting a little caught up in how starkly contrasting their skin tones were, “It doesn’t take much.”

“Just weed and some kissing, huh?”

“You also happen to be very cool.” Jayce argued, a teasing lilt to his voice, “Though the weed and the kissing don’t hurt.”

Viktor chuckled. He looked so lovely with his hair down and a smile on his face. Jayce wanted to commit it to a canvas and look at it forever.

“Can we do some more of it? The kissing?” He asked before he could stop himself. This longing in his chest was more than he could bear.

The man’s eyes shimmered like starlight, something akin to pride flaring in him. He liked that Jayce wanted him. Jayce liked it too- he liked that look on Viktor’s face a lot.

Just as Jayce’s companion opened his mouth to respond, though, they were interrupted.

The door to the basement was flung open, letting in a flurry of pounding music and strobe lights. Jayce jumped a foot in the air, heart rate skyrocketing, while Viktor didn’t move a muscle.

“Vik, you down there?” A voice that could only be described as cackly called. From here, Jayce couldn’t see any part of the intruder besides black scuffed boots and two ankle-length blue braids, “Ekko says I can’t set off my fireworks unless you’re there to supervise!”

Viktor laid his head against the back of the couch and looked up toward the doorway, “I’m assuming you won’t be taking no for an answer?”

“Nope!” Came her enthusiastic reply as she rocked back and forth on her heels, “I told you I was gonna make you participate in the party. You’ve had your time.”

The man let out a long sigh before responding, “I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t take too long! I’ll be on the roof!”

Then the door slammed shut, and they were in the quiet again.

Viktor looked at Jayce with an expression bordering on apologetic, “It seems we’ll have to rain-check our kissing, unfortunately.”

“You have to go?” He didn’t mean to sound as pathetic and whiny as he did. The thought of parting with him right now made him very sad.

“Jinx is not one for patience.” Viktor got to his feet, stretching his arms above his head until his spine popped. His shirt rode up, giving Jayce a peek of smooth skin over a prominent hip bone, “And I’d prefer if my house didn’t get burned down by her antics. I like having a place to live.”

Viktor was reaching for his cane and Jayce was panicking, panicking, panicking. He didn’t want to say goodbye, not yet. His mind was a haze but he knew that much.

“Well, can I see you again? Sometime soon?” Desperate. He must’ve looked so desperate. He didn’t care.

Viktor paused and looked down at him, half-smirking. His fingers tapped against the head of his cane, “I’m sure you’ll see me again, Jayce. Some time.”

“But-”

“You can stay down here as long as you’d like.” Viktor walked towards the stairs, favoring the weight of his bad leg a little, “Enjoy the quiet, get some rest, take care of your… predicament. No one will bother you.”

It didn’t take a genius to know that the ‘predicament’ was Jayce’s not-so-subtle erection. His cheeks were heating up again. All he could do was watch with resignation as the man moved away from him. He was like water Jayce was trying to hold in his hands.

Just as he was about to ascend the stairs, Viktor stopped again. He looked at Jayce over his shoulder, gazing through strands of brown hair. His eyes shone with warmth, “Thank you for keeping me company. I hope it was as… enjoyable for you as it was for me.”

He left after that. Deserting Jayce in the basement with kiss-swollen lips, too-tight pants, and a whole lot of questions.

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ddolbyong · 4 months ago

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playlist. homesick - wave to earth, flower of life - the novembers, to us - apro(ft. wave to earth & wavy), plastic flowers - idlework, all i need to hear - the 1975

MAY 22ND

hey yn, its haechan. i know this is stupid... uh i just... i really miss you. um... i don't know what to say... i don't even know why i called... oh! um i heard this song recently, uh homesick...? by wave to earth. i know how much you love this band and i have to admit your taste might even be better than mine haha. uh. you know... listening to this song reminded me of you. yn, i... i feel so lost without you by my side. i miss having you around. i miss your warmth, i miss your comfort... i just miss you. you're... you're my home and i'm homesick.

MAY 25TH

hi yn. its haechan. again. uh jaemin recommended this song to me recently... um its called... flowers? no uh... flower of life. by the novembers. i... i think. my memory hasn't been very good recently haha... sorry. uh the song is about the uncertainty and curiosity of the future, as well as... the um desire to live life to the fullest. you always used to tell me how you were unsure on where the future would take us. well um i... i just want you to know that whereever it takes us, i just want to be by your side. i want to live life to the fullest with you. i miss you.

MAY 29TH

hey, its haechan. um doyoung played this song yesterday... he uh said it reminded him of you. i guess... everyone misses you too huh. uh... um.. what was i talking about? oh! right. the song. i think its called.. to us by uh.. apro. wave to earth also features in it so you would definitely enjoy it heh... anyways, the song is about embracing life's challenges and finding contentment in the present! doyoung said it reminded him of you because you always knew just how to handle your problems and not let them affect your life. i totally agree with him. you always carried gratitude and appreciation for the present... it makes me admire you more than i already do.

JUNE 1ST

its haechan. i miss you. i heard plastic flowers by idlework yesterday. made me think of you. i uh.. i can't think of anyone else who can connect with me as well as you did. everything feels so empty without you. it hurts. i um... do you remember? when we uh just laid in silence, scrolling through our phones for the entire day. haha.. i... i don't know if i can do that with anyone else without it feeling awkward. it only feels familiar with you.

JUNE 6TH

hey. its my birthday today. i've just been in my room listening to the 1975's all i need to hear. this was our favourite song, remember? um.. i... i miss you so much yn. i wish you were here, with me. telling me everything i need to hear.

notes: this was inspired by @00127am 's mark voicemail fic!!! i also orginally wrote this for anton but i just miss haechan too much... i hope you enjoy and feedback, likes, reblogs n replies are appreciated!

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redeemingvillains · 2 months ago

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how mattheo would love you in every love language ♡

G I F T S

Mattheo wasn't proud of where his family money came from; in fact, most people didn't even know he was wealthy as he walked around in frayed robes and old hoodies.

But he l o v e d being able to spoil you.

It wasn't just about how expensive the gifts were...

...I mean some of it was (looking at you, diamond earrings for Christmas, the 16k gold 'M' around your neck, your new Louis Vuitton and the trip to Italy you took over fall break).

But the gifts that meant the most to you had nothing to do with what they cost: his favorite band t-shirt, worn and washed so many times it was heavenly soft, or the playlist he randomly texted you one day with every song that made him think of you.

Better yet were the smallest things that let you know you had been on his mind, like when he grabbed you extra dessert at dinner and brought it to you in the library while you were studying, or the flowers that showed up the morning of your big exam.

This boy lived to shower you every way he knew how.

W O R D S of affirmation

Mattheo is so cheeky and such a goofball, honestly.

He's quick with a joke, and his signature smirk, but he chooses his words very carefully around you and doesn't throw around empty compliments.

So, when he did speak up, you knew it was important.

You craaaveeed his praise and feedback, so when he picked you up for your first date and he didn't immediately say anything about your outfit, you were lowkey devastated.

But when you were walking hand in hand back to the castle after a perfect evening in Hogsmeade and he pulled you into his side and whispered "you are unbelievably gorgeous, I can't keep my eyes off of you" it was so much more sincere and meaningful.

(After that, you were his hook, line + sinker).

Not everything he'd say was about your looks. He would brag about you and gas you up to his friends, complimenting your intelligence, your kindness, your hard work.

"You know YN could have been a model? Yeah, they asked her and she said she wanted to focus on her studies, fucking brains and beauty that one."

And trust this carried over into the bedroom, the one place he went absolutely overboard, whispering every single thing you wanted to hear, knowing how crazy it drove you.

Quality T I M E

Something that was different with Mattheo right from the start is that you were always a priority to him.

Boys asked to hang out when you two already had plans? Too bad.

In big ways and little ways it was like he created moments to spend time together.

He'd go out of his way to walk you to every class, even though it made him late for all of his.

"And miss the chance to show off my girl to the whole school? Pass."

The way he'd lay on your bed as you did your nighttime skincare routine, or join you in the library to study.

(Well, you studied potions and he studied you).

He had a permanent seat next to you at every meal.

He'd only had to shove Pansy, then Draco, then Theo aside so many times before they got the hint, all shifting automatically when he came to join you now.

He would look for literally any excuse to be near you, to be in your orbit.

Acts of S E R V I C E

The way this boy would do literally anything for you. A n y t h i n g.

On anyone else, it would look foolish the way he ran after you like a schoolboy, but he cherished you like his queen.

Putting his jacket over puddles so you didn't have to step on them.

Rushing ahead of you to open every door.

Kneeling down to tie your shoe.

One fifth year once had the audacity to say something about it.

The next day he had a black eye.

Date nights? Organized, sorted, planned.

You basically never had to lift a finger again, you wanted for nothing.

He'd carry your books, really carry anything for you (your bag, your jacket, your wand, your water bottle).

And when he couldn't be there to walk you to class or carry your books, trust there were two Slytherin first years waiting for you to do it for him.

You were Riddle's Princess after all, and everyone knew it

Physical T O U C H

His hands. On you. All. The. Time.

Rubbing your thigh, his fingers tangling in yours or twirling your hair. A hand at your back in the hallways or grasping you firmly to him in larger crowds.

King of Casual Dominance™️

Why would you sit in a chair when his lap is open and waiting for you?

His head on your lap whenever possible so you could run your fingers through his chestnut curls.

And, conversely, not knowing what the fuck to do with his hands when you weren't around; his leg would bounce anxiously, his hands would fidget, messing with his tie, tapping on his desk, fiddling and twitching to feel your soft skin.

Oh and the way this boy kissed you...

In the morning. In the evening. On the stairs. In bed. Before Quidditch practice. In the middle of breakfast. During class. He did not give a single fuck who was around or what the circumstances were.

You're literally standing outside of transfiguration, two feet in front of McGonagall and his lips are warm and running over yours like he's going off to war. "That's enough Mr. Riddle!" her shrill voice would ring out.

(He'd ignore her).

And you'd slip past her a full minute later with rosy cheeks, trying to right your lipgloss, a shy smile on your face as you avoided eye contact with her.

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf, @sleepiibunniiii, @darlingshecried, @girllblogging777, @foivetimesacharm, @clar2aa, @broadwaybaby123, @slytherinscreamqueen

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fluff

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prongsiepotter · 9 months ago

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sunbathing by the black lake | j. potter

summary: your childhood best friend james is being a little shit but in an endearing sort of way while showing his little acts of love

pairing: james potter x childhood bsf!reader

a/n: my first time writing on this blog!! i have a childhood friends to lovers playlist on spotify if anyone wants to listen to it bc i have a feeling it’s all i’ll write abt lol would really appreciate some feedback! enjoy x

──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°

There's no way to explain how the energy shifts when James is around. It simply does. Just like how you can feel the sun beating down on you right now. Hence, you can sense his approach without as much as a glance at him, your gaze continuing to drift across the notes Remus left for you in the margins of your essay.

James knows that, of course, as he strides across the grass towards you. You have never really talked about it, but seeing how he can also just tell when you're about to enter a room he's in, you both have made it a habit to not announce your presence. There's just no need.

So when he plops down next to you and rests his chin on your shoulder like it's his birthright, neither of you is surprised. In fact, it’s just right. Like puzzles slotting in perfectly.

For a few minutes, the world consists of birds chirping, a warm breeze, and the distant laughter of a group of Hufflepuff girls sitting a few paces away. You flip the page and let out a huff of laughter. James chuckles, his voice low and right next to your ear as he says, "Wouldn't be Moony if everything he touches didn't have a chocolate stain on it."

"It's like he's marking his territory." You try to rub it off with your sleeve, but the smudge only gets bigger. You squint and hold the paper in front of you, trying to discern if it's that noticeable (it is) but with a shrug you decide you couldn't care less. The movement makes James' glasses slide down to the tip of his nose, and he leans forward to make a dramatic face at you as if you had done him deeply wrong. With a playful eye-roll, you push them back for him and get a signature James Potter smile in return.

"Cheers, love." He beams at you and retrieves a balled-up napkin from the inside of his robe before taking it off. You watch him roll up the sleeves of his white Oxford shirt to his elbows, placing the mystery napkin on your lap. You glance at it curiously. "Unwrap it," he says. "It's for you."

Doing as you're told, you perk up with excitement when the content reveals itself. "Effie sent them?" You hold up the mangled piece of apple crumble like it's the most sacred thing you have ever gotten to hold, which it is. James nods, smiling at your happy dance. "I love her apple crumbles. Thank you!"

"You love everything my mum bakes," he says while lying down on his side, right in front of you with his head propped up on his palm. There's a glimmer in his amber eyes.

You give him a pointed look.

"Because everything that lovely woman bakes is the most scrumptious and amazing thing to exist." You take a big bite from the apple crumble to prove your point and your eyes flutter close as you hum. "This is why we're friends, Potter," you say with a mouthful. "No other reason. This is it."

"Oh yeah?" You hear the amusement in the drawl of his voice. Then he cups the side of your face and you look down at him as he distractedly brushes off some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. He looks up at the sky. "That's a shame because this is the last time you will get anything my mum has baked."

James' gaze is still turned upward, giving the sky his utmost interest as if to check if it's still blue. You stare at him in bewilderment. "Are you insane? Why would you deprive me of Effie's food?"

"I wonder how the weather will be tomorrow," he responds flippantly, and you swear your eye twitches.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you say, narrowing your eyes at him. "I forgot you were satan's spawn."

James does not react. You don’t think he will even reply with the way how he’s squinting and examining the very much non-existent clouds in the clear sky. But then he looks at you like you had asked him to solemnly share his meteorology findings with you, and with undeserved earnestness he tells you, "I think tomorrow will be just as sunny as today."

You blink at him. Then give a long-suffering sigh. "I thought you cared about me."

"I do," James says, rolling over to lay on his back with his eyes closed. "Which is why I can't have you lose your mind over some flour and sugar. I'm doing us a favour. Preserving our friendship." He cracks an eye open to look at you. "We've been friends since diapers, not because of my mum’s food, but because I'm brilliant and extremely lovable. Get your facts straight, woman."

You toss the napkin at his face.

He laughs.

Glancing at the last piece of the apple crumble in your hand, you ask, "Do you want it?"

James shakes his head, looking fond. "You assault me and then offer me the last bite?"

"Force of habit," you say flatly. "I can take it back."

He chuckles and takes off his glasses, resting his arm over his eyes. "You can have it, love. Cheers."

You don't have to be told twice and pop it happily in your mouth. With his other arm, he sweeps the scattered pages aside and pats the spot next to him. "Sleep with me?"

You quirk a brow. "Trying to get into my knickers, Potter?"

A breathy laughter escapes his lips. "Are you offering?"

"You wish."

"Merlin, yes." He sighs dramatically as if all James Potter has known in this lifetime was the pain of longing. He grabs blindly for you and pulls lightly at the hem of your skirt. "A man can dream. But for now just nap with me, yea?"

You bat at his wrist but let him pull you towards him nonetheless. There was never any other option, really.

In the blink of a moment, you're nestled into James’ side. His arm is cushioning your head, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as he tells you his thoughts on a book he recently read because he knew you liked it. You listen intensely, enjoying the easy conversation and the sunlight warming your skin. The world feels peaceful, and it doesn't take long before sleep pulls you both into a cosy slumber.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter x you #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders #marauders imagine #the marauders

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prodagustd · 3 months ago

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the road not taken 05 | myg

part five: new year's eve

Summary: The timer is counting down and it's finally time to confront Yoongi.

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 12.2k

—a/note: hi friends!!! i know i said i was going to go crazy with the word count but i had to divide the chapter because this part was going to have 25k words otherwise?? anyway!!! i went through ten different mental breakdows while writing this, i doubted myself like fifty times, but i enjoyed writing it sososo much, i hope you enjoy reading it as well!! like always, you are invited to discuss this part in the asks, feedback is always welcomed 🤠.

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago.

New Year’s eve.

You had lost count of the amount of times Minnie rolled her eyes, groaned or threw her hands in the air in the last two hours, but you were sure it was the same amount of times that you closed your eyes and sighed, trying to remain calm. She was sitting at the desk of your room, finishing her make-up for the New Year’s party as she listened to you list every detail of the last time you saw Yoongi, two days ago.

Minnie, not minding being hyperbolic, openly expressed that she thought that “Yoongi was a psychopath” for inviting to watch When Harry Met Sally, a movie whose main premise were two friends who are in love with each other but do not realize it. Then she proceeded to call him similar things, like he was crazy for grabbing your hand on the way home and borderline insane for not kissing you when he left you at the door of your home. You tried to agree with her, but you were too busy trying to keep your food down, fearing that you might vomit at the thought of confronting Yoongi tonight.

Needless to say, you were nervous. You had promised Minnie that, for your own sake, you would finally tell Yoongi to stop playing games and tell you what he really wanted with you tonight. You invited him to the party, hoping he would turn you down, thinking he probably had better plans with other friends, but he said yes, and now you were obligated to stand up to him.

“This is not my size.” You complained, observing yourself in the mirror as you pulled from the hem of your dress, attempting to cover your butt.

Your friend looked away from the tiny mirror in her hands to scan your body. You turned around, showing her the tiny black dress she let you borrow.

Minnie looked at you like you were joking. “It literally fits you like a glove.” She said, standing up from her seat to take a better look at you.

The dress was fine, it hugged your waist, your hips and every good part of your body, but you were too aware of it, you weren’t used to wearing dresses like this.

“What about my boobs?” You asked, covering up your chest with your hands.

“What about them? They look beautiful!” She exclaimed, and grabbed your hands to out them away.

You laughed “Aren’t they too out?”

“They’re perfectly out.” She responded, taking a good look at them “Like, enough, not too much and not too little, you know? If I had your boobs, I would display them just like that.”

You smiled like that was the biggest compliment a girl could ever hear. “Thank you Minnie.” You said, a little more relieved “I don’t know what I would do without you here.”

“You would be completely lost, I’m telling you.” She said, grabbing her jacket from her bed and her bag “Are we ready to go now?”

You reached for your phone, hoping to find a message from Yoongi saying that he was already here but it was not necessary, a second later you heard the motor of his car being parked in front of your house.

“That’s him.” You informed your friend, making her jump in her place like a little kid.

“Fine, let’s waste no time.”

You grabbed your jacket, already knowing it would be of no use in the freezing cold of the night, and left your house to meet Yoongi.

When you closed the door, you heard Minnie let out a little gasp, which made you look up at her.

"What?" you asked her, feeling her elbow dig into your ribs as she pointed at the sidewalk with her chin.

You turned around, meeting the sight of Yoongi, casually leaned over his car as he waited for you in the dark night. He was wearing his long black coat with his signature shirt, this time in black, his hair was slightly messy, the way you’ve always liked, and when he caught the first glimpse of your face he smiled, waving at you.

“Oh, my…” Minnie sighed, bringing her hand up to her face, fanning herself. “Is that the man who’s taking you home tonight?”

"Shut up," You muttered through gritted teeth, waving back at Yoongi.

“Is your mom coming home tonight, sweetheart?” She kept going “If I were you, I would tell her to stay somewhere else. You know, in case you and your boy…”

“Minnie, he’s gonna hear you.” You warned her, but she just laughed.

Still, in the back of your mind, you considered Minnie’s concern; no, your mom wasn’t coming home tonight, but you didn’t need to be thinking about that at all.

“Looking nice, ladies.” said Yoongi as you were making your way to his car.

“Likewise, gentleman.” Minnie answered “Do we have a resolution for the new year?”

Yoongi smirked, “Yes, we do.”

Your friend clicked her tongue, winking at you both and got into the back seat of Yoongi’s car, leaving the two of you alone.

There was a moment of silence, like he was waiting to hear the sound of the car door closing, and then, he whistled. “You’re all dolled up.” He noted, sneaking his hand under your jacket and grabbing you by your waist over your dress, pulling you closer to him.

“Is that bad?” You frowned, pretended to be annoyed.

“Maybe.” He considered “What if someone tries to steal my date?”

You snorted, softly punching his chest. “Oh, shut up.” You sassed “I can’t get rid of you, I’ve tried already.”

Yoongi bit his bottom lip, failing to hide a smile. “You look very pretty, that’s all I’m saying.”

By now, you’d think you could handle these kinds of comments—his lingering touches, or the way his eyes seemed to silently ask for a kiss—but you couldn’t. Your heart still jumped, your palms still grew sweaty, and your face still burned. Yet, you forced a smile as if you’d heard it a thousand times from countless men, as if he was nothing special.

“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You patted him on the back, pulling away from him to go around the car to the passenger seat.

Yoongi’s gaze trailed over you as he turned to face you across the roof of the car, his eyes following every movement.

“By the way,” He wondered, stopping you before you could open the door “What do you mean that you’ve tried?”

You stopped for a moment, trying to understand what he meant, but you were immediately reminded of your previous comment. How clueless he was, he had no idea the amount of times you tried to exile him from your life with no success, the thought of him always crawled back to you as if he belonged there. Tonight you should be in your bed, or going to some other party to drink your weight in alcohol to try to fulfill the purpose of banishing him from your mind, but, like a thousand times before, you were with him.

You ignored his question, bursting into laughter as you got inside the car.

Yoongi stood there for a moment, hearing the echoes of your laugh across the street, tempted to chase the sound. What a shame, if you hadn't gotten into the car so quickly, you might have seen the stars reflecting in his eyes, the look that only a fool would mistake for anything other than love.

Present

The thing about small towns like yours was that they hardly ever changed—like the park in front of Minnie’s apartment, with its wooden benches and the path of trees leading to the fountain in the center, which had stopped working years ago. The never changing look of your hometown was one of the main things that made you want to leave it behind, it was ridiculous to admit how relieved you were now that everything was still the same as the last time you were here.

You set your bags down on the floor of your friend’s home and gazed out the window, watching the wind drag yellow and orange leaves, swirling them across the street until they crashed against the tall wooden doors of a building you recognized as The Alley. You remembered how, when you were younger, Minnie used to live fifteen minutes from there, but once she became an adult, she jumped at the chance to move directly across the street, staying as close as she could. You figured that people in small towns hardly ever changed either.

There was not much difference between the Minnie you knew when you were a teenager and the Minnie you knew in the present, she was still always at The Alley, except she was the one who called the shots nowadays. Over the years she gained the trust of the owners and now she was in charge of keeping everything in order, helping organize every activity and every area every day of the week, so you frowned when you saw that it was closed, especially in October, which was the most exciting month in The Alley; the Halloween plays, the Halloween movies and the Halloween parties were your favorite part of the year.

“Is The Alley closed?” You asked, turning around to see Minnie as she stuck her head in her fridge trying to look for something to eat. Your friend let you stay at her apartment for as long as you needed; it was the least she could do, considering she always crashed at your place in the city and acted like it was her own whenever she had to work there.

“Uh… yeah. It’s a whole thing.” She sighed. “It has all of us stressed out.”

“Why, what happened?” You walked over to her, sitting on one of the stools of her kitchen.

“The building’s having some issues with its infrastructure for some time now and it’s costing a lot of money.” She explained, grabbing a cup of yogurt and a spoon to place it in front of you as if that were dinner. “We thought it was just a few things, like the electricity and the plumbing, but the more we look into it, the more problems we find.”

Your frown deepened, more confused than before. The Alley had been an old building for years and years, there was always a thing or two that had to be repaired, but you never thought it was that bad. “That’s why it’s closed?” You continued to ask.

“That’s not the only reason. We had three inspections since the beginning of the year and none of them looked any good, we’re suspecting the town council might want to close it.” She rolled her eyes, but you could feel the hurt in her words.

“Close it?” You repeated it, feeling something stung in your chest “Just like that? Is it that bad?”

“Well, yes.” She affirmed, trying to appear composed but the discouragement filled her voice “Unless we fix the whole place, of course, but the repairs cost too much, so it’s going to take some time.”

“That sounds ridiculous, Minnie. What does Sid think?” You inquired. Sid was one of the owners of The Alley and the only one who was active in the community, he trusted Minnie with the management of the place more than anyone else.

“That prick.” She bitterly spat “Don’t even mention him, he’s acting like a jerk lately, he’s too old and too tired of running the place, he’s leaving everything to me. I’m trying to handle it with some other people but it’s too much. That’s why we’re closed, we’re opening just three days a week but that’s slowing down the process of collecting money.”

“Oh, Minnie. That’s horrible.” You lamented “Why am I just finding out about this now? Why didn't you tell me anything?”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” She tried to wave off “You were busy and too sad to hear any of my problems, I didn’t want to bother with stupid stuff.”

“What are you talking about?” You said, shaking your head “It’s not stupid, are you nuts? I could never be too busy or sad to hear you. How come you’ve been carrying all of this without telling me?”

The feeling of guilt flooded your chest, filling with regret your whole body. You knew you were being a bad sister and a bad daughter, but you didn’t realize you were being a bad friend as well. If closing The Alley sounded horrible to you, you couldn’t imagine how bad must’ve felt for Minnie, who had dedicated most of her life to the place.”

“I mean it, baby, you don’t have to feel bad.” She assured you, squeezing your hand “My head’s been a mess lately, I was going to tell you eventually.”

“But it’s not okay, Minnie.” You insisted. “You could’ve told me how you were feeling, I mean, The Alley is your whole life, there has to be another way.”

“Yes, that’s what I keep telling myself, there has to be another way! And I’m trying to think of one, but when I think I’m close to finding a solution, my head starts to smoke.” She huffed.

You felt your heart clenching, Minnie was always trying to see the good side of things, you’ve never seen her so let down about something, especially something she cared about deeply. You both went silent, processing all the information for a minute. You wished you could do something, not only for your friend, but for the place where you had grown up, you couldn’t phantom the idea of The Alley disappearing, it was home of so many outcasts, it was your home for most of your teenage years, you felt like part of you was still on those walls.

“Have you thought about talking with a lawyer?” You asked, like some lightbulb lighted up above your head. “You know, I can talk with my brother if you’d like, he could help you save time.”

Minnie’s expression suddenly changed, she raised her eyebrows and slightly opened her mouth in surprise, but it wasn’t because of your offering, it was for something else, you just didn’t know what.

“Oh, no, honey. Don’t worry, it’s not necessary.” She rushed to say.

“How come it is not necessary?” You questioned. “Minnie, a lawyer is essential for this kind of stuff. I’m sure that Simon could give you some advice, if the situation is not good he could arrange a meeting with the council or something like that.”

You could see her doubting, the hesitating look on her face, looking at her hands as she tried to say something but couldn’t.

“You know that money is not a problem, I could talk to him about it.” You insisted, assuming that money was the reason for her doubt, she already said that they were struggling with the repair, you assumed that hiring a lawyer was too expensive to even consider.

Minnie pursed her lips, “It’s not about the money, actually.” She said, looking away from you. “And thank you, baby, it’s just that… uhm, we already consulted a lawyer.”

You sat straight in your chair “Oh, really?” You uttered, surprised. “What did they say?”

Your friend stood up from her seat, wandering around the kitchen while looking for something in the cabinets “He’s going through the documents for now, handling the legal stuff.” She trailed off, and you felt she was leaving something out. No, you didn’t understand a thing about law, but you could use a bit more information about the situation.

“How did you meet him?” You asked, curious. “Do you know if he’s any good? You know, I don’t trust lawyers.”

Your comment meant to be a joke, but the girl in front of you didn’t seem to catch it. Her tone suddenly changed “The only reason we have a lawyer is because it is a voluntary thing, so we don’t have to pay him. Otherwise, we would be lost, we couldn’t possibly afford a lawyer.” She went on, avoiding your question.

“A voluntary thing? You mean he is doing it for free?” You frowned, dismissing the fact that she didn’t answer what you asked, or even laughed at your attempt at a joke. “Why?”

“He’s from… here and really likes the place, I guess.”

“He’s from here and really likes the place?” You repeated, confused, you didn’t know many lawyers, but you were sure that was not reason enough to work for free. Minnie just hummed, not caring much to explain. “Do I know him?” The question resonated in the room, followed by a dead silence. As your friend pretended to be busy, taking the glasses out of the dishwasher and putting them back in their place, your words hung in the air, unanswered. “Minnie?”

“Yes?” You heard her voice.

“Who is he?” You asked again, but your gut told you that you already had an answer for that.

She turned back, looking at you with a warning look. “If I tell you, are you going to be mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” You questioned, already feeling upset. You knew way too many reasons to be mad at that question.

“I’m not telling you, then.” She said, taking your answer as a yes.

“If you don’t tell me who you hired as a lawyer, I will start screaming.” You threatened like a little kid, pointing at her with the spoon as if it were a gun.

“Okay, no need to scream.” She tried to persuade you.

“Minnie…”

“I’ll tell you, but you must know that it wasn’t my decision alone.” Minnie took a step back from you, with her hands in the air. “And that I would have never said yes if we had to pay him, we barely have any money! How could I say no? Besides, he helps on the weekends with the repairs, he’s great with plumbing and everyone likes him, the guys adore him, the girls love him, everyone had already agreed before I could say a word, you understand-?

“Minnie!” You stopped her, waving your hands in the air “You are rambling, what are you saying?”

The redhead in front of you took a deep breath, composing herself. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She breathed out “It’s just that Yoongi offered to advise us for free, and then he went on to…-”

The name ringed in your ears the same way it did when you mother mentioned the dinner the other night, the same way it did when you brother couldn’t stop mentioning his name the night you stayed at his house, the same way his voice interrupted the silence when he came looking for you in your mother’s backyard, only this time it came from your best friend’s mouth.

“Yoongi!?” You suddenly yelled, making her flinch. “What do you mean by Yoongi!?”

Minnie took another step back, afraid that you would use the spoon in your hand to take her eyes out.

“God, don’t be mad at me.” She pleaded, with her hands clasped together and her fingers intertwined as if she was begging for forgiveness.

You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head in disbelief. One thing was not to tell you of the fact that the town wanted to close The Alley because she was stressed and too tired to talk about it, and a completely different thing was not telling you that Yoongi, the only man who ever broke your heart, was involved, trying to ignore the fact that it was the place where you grew up. You couldn’t believe your friend didn’t tell you that Yoongi was trying to help to save the place that was directly connected to you and him.

“Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

“No, that was not the reason.” She tried to deny, but the second you raised an eyebrow, she backtracked “I mean, not at first, but I was telling the truth!”

“Half the truth!” You accused her.

“Okay, fine!” She threw her hands in the air, resigned. “Half the truth, I admit it.”

“But why?” You insisted.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart” She cried “ I don’t know… I was afraid you wouldn’t like the idea of him being involved in it.”

“I mean, it doesn’t sound thrilling, but I would want to know that it was happening, I don’t care if Yoongi was helping you with it.”

“I know, I know…” She trailed off, but there was still something she was keeping from you. Her gaze was fixed on her hands, she didn’t dare to look you in the eye. “It’s just…”

“What?” You kept asking “C’mon, Minnie… You don’t seriously think I’m still hurt by it, do you?”

The words came out of your mouth afraid to sound unsure, and the look she gave you finished to confirm it.

“Well, no-”

“Are you kidding? It’s been years, how could you think I’m still resentful?”

She raised an eyebrow the same way you did a second ago to accuse her, wondering if you were joking or not. “Don’t play dumb with me, you hate his guts.”

“I don’t hate his guts.” You scoffed, doing a very bad job at lying. In front of you there was the same woman who saw you crying for Yoongi all those years ago, the only person who you could talk shit about him with, you couldn’t pretend you were suddenly the most forgiving person when she was the only one who knew how much he hurt you.

Minnie laughed, making it clear that she didn’t believe you one word. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, maybe I still hate his guts.” You conceded “But that doesn’t mean I can’t tolerate him.”

You could feel Minnie’s eyes scanning every feature of your face, you could feel the weight of her doubt in the air. How could you convince her that you weren’t annoyed by Yoongi helping her when you didn’t even know the answer yourself? “Is that right?” She said, taking a step closer to you. You just nodded, but you didn’t know if that was even true. “So you wouldn’t mind, let’s say, being in the same room as him?”

“Of course not.” You replied right away, trying to appear confident. “Wasn’t I in the same room as him just a few days ago?”

“Yes, you were, you’re right.” She acknowledged “In that case, let’s say I believe you.”

“Yes, because I’m telling the truth.” You said in the same condescending tone she was using.

“And let’s say that I believe that you are more than capable of putting aside everything that happened between you and Yoongi just for the sake of The Alley.”

“That’s right.” You nodded, with your arms crossed over your chest.

“And if I were to ask you to help me with The Alley because you’re famous and you would help us raise a bunch of money, would you say yes even if Yoongi is there, helping too?”

You scoffed, a nervous laugh escaped you, thinking she was joking. But as you scanned her face for even the slightest hint of jest, a cold realization settled in your gut—she was completely serious.

“You have to call my agent for that kind of stuff, you know that?” You tried to joke, but she was not backing down.

“I’m not joking!” She pleaded “I was planning to ask you for a long time, but I didn’t know that you would want to do it since Yoongi is always around, but if you’re telling me you don’t care about him…”

You close your eyes shut. “It’s not only Yoongi- I mean, it’s not about him at all” You corrected yourself “I would love to help The Alley in all the ways I can, but I’m not sure if I want to play the superstar role right now.”

She nodded, immediately understanding “It’s fine, I get it, but I’m not asking you to play the superstar role, I’m asking you to be the girl I knew all my life, the one who’s passionate about theater and loves The Alley as much as me.”

A genuine smile spread across your face, feeling a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. “And the girl who’s also famous and would help you raise a bunch of money?”

She scoffed, “Well, you happen to be all of that too, isn’t that great?” You rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smile. “Look, I’m not saying that you should say yes right now, but you should at least go with me this friday and I can show you some of my ideas, what do you say?”

Friday was just four days away, that was not enough time for you to decide anything, but because you loved Minnie, and you loved The Alley, and honestly, because you didn’t have anything better to do, you agreed to think about it, only for now. “Fine, Friday it is.”

Four years ago.

New Year’s eve.

The last night of the year always felt as if something was about to change, even if it never did. You clung to that feeling of hope, as if time were real, as if the sun and the stars ruled your life and you weren’t the only one capable of controlling it, at least that way you weren’t able to blame yourself for feeling like something was missing when you came home at six in the morning, drunk and hopeless.

Change, future, and love were becoming curse words in your vocabulary, and if you saw a shooting star tonight, you would wish to forget any meaning you had ever learned about them. But if you stood in the street tonight, shaking in the cold winter air as you looked up at the dark sky, waiting for someone to give you all the answers, you feared your life would be wasted. Your life wasn’t ruled by the stars, it was ruled by you, it was about time for you to realize.

Tonight you didn’t need the universe to tell you what to do, what you needed was a drink or two to gather the courage to confront Yoongi, but the second you entered the silver room with the silver lights, you heard some sappy song from the 2000’s and for a second you almost forgot about his hands holding yours, or perhaps you were just desperately trying to.

“C’mon,” He called you, grabbing your hand to walk you to the dance floor “you must dance! Or they’ll kick you out.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, but followed him as he made his way through the sea of people to reach the center of the dance floor. The room was packed, it smelled like cigarettes, weed and perfume mixed together, there was a huge contrast between the cold weather outside and the heavy and humid air from inside. Minnie was lost somewhere else, she was part of the committee that organized the party and wanted to check that everything was exactly as she planned it, so you and Yoongi were now alone, again.

Time spent with Minnie had a way of dissolving the anxieties that once clung to you when you first visited The Alley after coming home, you were no longer afraid of being recognized, in fact, when you came here the other day to watch When Harry Met Sally and some old friends recognized you, you didn’t try to run away, you took a second to hug them and catch up, you were also surprised to find out that none of them hated you like your imagination made you believe they did. Turns out, people grow up and grow apart and there was nothing bad with that. It was always a desire of yours to run away from this town, but only if you could make sure that you could return to The Alley anytime you wanted, it was a relief to know that now you could.

You had missed it, the parties, the music, the ten disco balls on the ceiling and those moments where the room was so dark no one could see how badly you were dancing, except those few lights that were were still shining in your eyes the same way your dress did every time Yoongi twirled you around. He didn’t miss any of that, he was paying attention, he observed your eyes, your nose, your lips, the way the straps of your dress rested gently on your collarbones, your body and your waist, his hands on your hips, how he couldn’t keep them away from you and how you wished you could just ignore it.

Yoongi was not shy, he was never shy when you were alone and tonight, even if you were in a room full with people, it felt like you were. He was dancing like you were the only one watching him, he laughed, he winked at you and drew you closer to him to whisper things in your ear in the middle of songs. You danced in the only way you knew: shamelessly, and when Yoongi said he needed some air you promised him to go outside with him for a moment, you were sweaty, your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you knew you needed to check your lipstick in a mirror, but only after finishing dancing to Rock ‘N’ Roll Star by Oasis.

If there was a way in the universe that could stop the turmoil of your mind, that would be dancing, and it was working like a charm.

When the song was about to end, you began making your way out of the dance floor, but you immediately changed your mind when you heard the first chords of Sex on Fire blasting from the speakers. You stopped in your tracks, yanking Yoongi’s hand and making his body crash into yours.

“Stop!” You yelled “We can’t not dance to this song.”

“Pinky…” He whined, trying to complain, but you were already beginning to walk backwards, intertwining your fingers with his.

“You have to dance with me!” You insisted “You know this one!”

His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, the kind that could only promise trouble.

How lucky you were that Minnie wasn’t around. If she had seen the way you were looking at Yoongi at that moment, she would have slapped you in the face to snap you out of it. You were aware that you had an initial plan and that you weren’t anywhere near to pulling it off, you were aware that you were running off of excuses and that time wasn’t going to be on your side for much longer, but was it too much to ask for a few more moments like this? Those glimpses of something else, those evanescent instants where you didn’t have to wonder why you were dancing to this song with someone who was supposed to be your friend, with his lips threatening to brush with yours, his fingertips on your back, and his gaze fixed on you. You could hear your heart begging you to kiss him and your mind pleading you not to, but the only thing you understood was the way Yoongi sang each word to your face, so close you could explode.

You giggled and jumped to the rhythm of the song and sang back, forgetting all the words you practiced with Minnie, and all the things Minnie said and all the things you promised to do tonight. If you were to put an end to this now, you could at least have this moment.

“What is that?” Yoongi asked, observing you approaching him with a drink in your hands.

Going back to your own words, you hadn’t had much to drink tonight, you were too busy dancing or maybe it was the unbearable knot in your stomach that didn’t allow you to even think of alcohol before ending up throwing up. Ultimately, you decided to stay sober, this was only your second drink of the night and it was offered by Minnie, who you just encountered at the bar a few minutes ago. She yelled at the bartender, ordering a drink for both you and Yoongi. With a wink, she added two straws to the cup and playfully nudged you back towards the dance floor.

“It’s sex on the beach.” You mumbled without making eye contact with him. At least no one could say Minnie wasn’t funny. “A present from Minnie.”

“Two straws?” Yoongi said, leaning forward to sip the drink through one of the straws. “Isn’t she a matchmaker?”

Well, he had no idea.

“Buddy, if you want another drink you should buy it yourself.” You scoffed, drinking from the other straw. “You are the one who’s been drinking water the whole night.”

“I have plenty of things that I need to do tonight, I have to be sober.”

“Plenty of things?” You questioned “Like what?”

You joined Yoongi as he leaned against the wall, holding the cup between the two of you.

“Like driving you home.” He replied “What would Lila say about me if I show up drunk.”

“You never get drunk. You have the highest tolerance.” You laughed. “And even if you did, my mom would say that I was the one who got you drunk.”

“And maybe it would be true,” he snarked, leaning in with a playful grin, his lips brushing close to your ear. “I would tell her that you forced me to dance so much that the only way I could keep up was by drinking all the beer from the bar.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you huffed, digging your elbow into his ribs to push him away. “But I bet she would believe anything you say.”

Yoongi smiled, cocky “I bet she would, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, taking another long sip of the drink before feeling your throat slightly burning. “What’s up with the slow music?”

You looked around, seeing a few couples slowly dancing in the middle of the room. The lights were red and Fade Into You by Mazzy Star was playing softly, the dance floor was less packed, you thought it could only mean it was about to be midnight.

You grabbed Yoongi’s wrist to draw it closer to your face so you could check the hour on his watch. “It’s about to be midnight.” You announced. “They start playing love songs before midnight.”

“Why love songs?” He questioned.

“So you can find the person you want to give your first kiss of the year.”

“Isn’t that a bit cheesy?” he teased, tilting his head with a smirk.

“Of course it is.” You said, chucking “That’s the point.”

Yoongi nodded and set his cup down on a nearby table, extending his hand toward you. “Fine, let’s dance then.”

You observed his hand extended to you, a bit hesitant. “You slow dance, too?”

“Tonight I do.” He revealed. You had no other option but to take his hand.

You’ve never been to a New Year’s party at The Alley, but since Minnie was heavily involved in the preparations you knew a thing or two about how it went down. When the lights turned yellow and Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer suddenly began playing, you knew you were just a few minutes away from the New Year.

You had never been much of a slow dancer, so you were not sure what to do, but Yoongi seemed to have no problem with it, he led the way without making you look pathetic. You knew he had more experience with romantic scenarios than you, and even if you’d had your share of romantic relationships, it all went down to boring boyfriends, bad boyfriends, and boys who didn’t want to be your boyfriend at all. As he laid his hands on your waist and his soft gaze upon you, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a romantic moment at all—nothing had ever been as close as this.

“So… did you have fun?” You asked him, grabbing his shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

“I am having fun.” He emphasized, “Why are you asking as if the night is already ending?”

“I don’t know.” You said, a playful glint in your eyes. “I guess because... I always get the feeling that you’re about to slip away.”

He raised an eyebrow, moving slowly to the rhythm, pulling you with him. “Slip away?” he wondered.

“Oh, you know, you’re the kind of guy who slips away.” You smiled softly, enjoying the look of confusion on his face.

“I don’t know what that means.” He laughed.

“I mean… the guy who people always expect but always leaves early.” You tried to explain, but that didn’t do much for Yoongi’s understanding.

“Do you think I always leave early?” He inquired, making you laugh.

“You leave early sometimes.” You confirmed “Most times.”

“Well, I don’t quite enjoy parties.” He confessed, but you already knew that. When you were younger, you always followed Simon to parties. He tried so hard not to get annoyed at his little sister; annoying him was supposed to be your job. And as fun as it sounded, you were never really there for Simon, but to catch a glimpse of his best friend. Of course you soon learned that hanging out with Yoongi at your house was much more entertaining than observing him flirting with the prettiest girl of the party just to watch him leave with her an hour later. If you ever found Yoongi at a party, it was most likely because Simon dragged him to it, you guessed you weren’t so different from your brother.

“What about this one?” You teased him “Are you leaving this party early?”

“Mmm, no.” He shook his head “I won’t be disappearing tonight.”

“Is that so?” You asked, and he nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment. “What’s different tonight?”

For an instant, Yoongi's gaze drifted around the room, as though searching for a reason to stay, before finally settling back on you.

“You, maybe.” He asserted calmly, his voice steady.

You laughed nervously, feeling your chest tighten. “What about me?”

“Nothing, you look really pretty.” He simply said. “I wouldn’t leave a party if you’re looking this pretty.”

Your breath got caught in your throat “Yoongi…” you whispered, but he could hear your voice just right.

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Stop that…” Your voice came out weak as you placed a hand on his chest, attempting to create some distance between your body and his. Yet, with his hand resting on your lower back, he gently drew you closer once again.

“Stop what?” he dared to ask,

That—this, whatever you had going on, whatever was happening between you and him—had gotten to a point of no return. All the cards seemed to be on the table, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to give a name to it. Yes, you could see it, you could feel it, but you were still afraid.

“Nothing, never mind,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“C’mon, tell me,” he coaxed, cupping your cheek with one hand. A teasing smirk danced on his lips, making you want to punch him, but the hand you meant to push him away with gradually glided down his chest instead.

“That thing you’ve been doing.” You murmured, tilting your head to lean into his touch.

“What?” He scoffed, “What thing I’ve been doing?”

“Exactly that.” You pointed out. “Stop playing dumb with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said with a mocking tone on his voice.

You slightly punch his chest with your fist “That, too.” You pouted, feeling his thumb grazing over your jaw. “You’re trying to drive me crazy, stop that.”

“Am I doing that?” He smirked, the amusement in his eyes clear as he watched for your reaction. “How exactly?”

“Don’t piss me off…” You threatened, as if your threats had any value when you were wrapped in his arms, when your voice sounded so weak.

“You’re incredible, really.” He said “Aren’t you the one who’s trying to drive me crazy?”

You blinked, clearly not grasping the situation.

“What are you talking about?” You demanded to know.

Yoongi bit his lip, holding back a smile “Pinky…” He said like it was obvious, but everything was a blur, a cloud of smoke surrounding the both of you.

“Yoongi…” You spoke in the same tone as him.

“What? Am I insane or am I just imagining you pulling me in just to push me away later?” His words didn’t sound harsh, but there was a hint of resignation in his voice. You couldn’t help but frown deeply, bewildered.

“Are you serious? I’m not doing that.” You said, feeling your cheeks burn in embarrassment. The truth was that you weren’t even sure if you were doing that or not, but you were not willing to admit it. “You’re the one playing games with me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head in denial “I’m not playing any games with you.”

“Really?” You snickered, bitterly, but he was quick to deny it. “Not one?”

“No, not one.” He assured you, confidently.

“Yeah, sure.”

“What games am I playing, you say?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” You tried to dismiss it, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

“You are not being very communicative with me, Pinky.”

You scrunched your nose, it was only a matter of time for him to start annoying you “You…-”

“I?...”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what you did.”

“I actually, no, I don’t know what I did.” He jested.

“Yoongi, you tried to kiss me!” You blurted out, your words tumbling over each other. “Before Christmas, you tried to kiss me and a second later you acted like nothing happened.”

“No-” He tried to defend himself, but you were quick to interrupt him.

“Yes! You acted like I imagined everything.” You kept accusing, “You keep leaving me stranded, wondering if I just went mad!”

You felt your heart racing with each word you spoke, but Yoongi was unphased, completely calm, you could even see a glimpse of amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“Pinky, I did want to kiss you.” He admitted with a tranquil smile, as if sharing a simple truth “You weren’t imagining it, I wanted to kiss you so many times, I still do.”

It was like someone was playing a bad joke on you; the proximity of his face, the weight of his words, his gentle touch all over your body, it only made your breath hitch, your heart skip a beat, you felt like you were floating in the air in a different dimension, because this could not be real. It was like a force of habit, you couldn’t believe something good was happening to you even if it was right in front of your face.

“Then, why didn’t you do it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, surprised that you had mustered the courage to wonder that out loud. “Why didn’t you come looking for me after?”

“I always come back to you, are you kidding?” he replied, chuckling softly, though his gaze held an unexpected seriousness. “But you looked horrified, that day in your grandmother’s house you stormed out, you ran away, what was I supposed to do?”

You couldn’t recall that day without feeling a chill running down your whole body. The sole memory of your bodies pressing against each other, his deep voice, his dark eyes and the embarrassing moment when you had to open the door to find your mother standing there was enough to keep you awake at night. The only option you had was to run away, you thought it was only logical, but now you felt your whole face burning red as Yoongi accused you of running away from him.

“Well, because you…! “ you dug your finger into his chest, exasperatedly trying to find the right words to put on a good fight. “You confuse me!”

“Do I?” He mocked you. “Am I confusing you?”

“Yes, you do!” you argued, ignoring his implications “You say and do all these things, you grab my hand, ask me to run away with you, you try to kiss me and then-“

“And then what?” He snapped, making you swallow your words “And then I give in, don’t I?”

“No!” You protested, squinting your eyes. “You disappear, you come back, you leave, you leave me hanging, you confuse me. How can I know what it is when I don’t know what you want, when it seems that you don’t even know what you want?”

“I’m not trying to confuse you, I know exactly what I want.” He laughed without humor.

“And what’s that?” You demanded, frustration boiling over.

“Pinky, I know that there have been people around you that tried to make you believe that you weren’t good enough, but that it’s simply not me.” He said “I want you, is that so difficult to believe?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your thoughts were a mess. “That’s not- Thats…!” Your words tangled, and now you were barely making any sense.

“That’s the truth, I grab your hand, try to kiss you and when you push me away I come back home just to dream of you all night, convincing myself that I’m not completely insane.” He paused, his gaze locked onto yours, as if begging you to understand.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head as if that would somehow clear the storm of emotions swirling inside you. His confession was overwhelming, every word sinking into your chest. You felt your head spinning, you couldn’t process all those words, not when your heart was threatening to escape from your chest and his hands were still on your face, demanding you to look at him.

“Because that’s what I’ve been doing since last summer, asking myself if I lost my head” He continued “And, Pinky, that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that I have to be okay with it. Because I would rather watch you all night wearing that dress, wishing that I could take it off, than having nothing at all.”

A lump formed in your throat, your breath hitching as you tried to form a response, but no words came. You simply gulped, utterly speechless, trapped between disbelief and the wild beating of your heart.

“Yoongi…” you whined, barely managing to get his name past your lips. The words you needed were nowhere to be found.

And then, in the least convenient moment, the countdown started, the room filling with the sound of people shouting numbers.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “What? What should I do, hm?” His lips grazed over yours, so soft that it felt like a question in itself.

“I can’t handle this,” you murmured, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to steady yourself. “This is too much. I can’t.”

He paused, his eyes searching yours, and then, as if trying to make sense of the situation, he asked softly, “Should I turn around and leave?”

You shook your head, quickly, repeatedly, without a second thought.

“Tell me, then.” He pressed, his voice almost a plea.

Still caught in the hazy blur of the moment, you could hear the countdown approaching its end, yet he still hadn’t pulled away. It felt as if you were under a spell, frozen in place, unable to move. You were breathing heavily, overwhelmed by the lights and the music and the people chanting, overwhelmed by his words, his body and his gaze fixed on your lips. The fleeting feeling that you were dreaming hit you for a second, but when everyone around you started counting four, that thought quickly vanishedYou heard three, and the realization that he was waiting for your response hit you like a bolt of lightning. You heard two and you got the feeling that if you didn’t do anything about it now, you wouldn’t do anything about it ever, you heard one and, against every rational thought, you pressed your lips against his, kissing him.

It was not a soft kiss, it was rushed, rough and messy. You closed your fists around his shirt, pulling him closer as he opened his mouth to search for your tongue in desperation, the way his fingers gripped your hips burned right through your clothes, driving you to the edge. You could hear people yelling and laughing, you could hear the fireworks outside, the song that started right after the countdown, but you were completely absorbed by him, by his lips, by the way he held you, no one had ever kissed you with such determination, with such dedication.

You had spent years dreaming about kissing Yoongi, but you never thought it would be like this—like your lips fitted just right with each other, as if in this universe he was made only for you. The moment was electric, igniting a fire deep within you, and all the doubts and fears that had held you back melted away, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the sweetness of his breath against your skin.

His feet carried him to the nearest wall, dragging you along until he pinned you against it, never breaking the kiss. For a fleeting moment, he pulled back to catch his breath, his gaze lingering on your lips before he devoured them once more. His hands traveled down your back, tempted to listen to his thoughts, to touch your body in the way he really wanted.

You laid your hand on his chest, gently pulling away “Is this what you wanted?” You whispered, excitement filling your voice.

His lips curled into a teasing smile. “Not even close,” he murmured, his voice low with amusement.

There were only so many ways you could imagine the night ending, that was what you thought before leaving your house earlier tonight. If you were lucky enough, you would’ve come back home in one piece, sober and with your heart intact, that would’ve meant that you didn’t dare to take any risks, you would've let the night finish its course without rushing it, finally accepting that you were a coward. If you were unlucky, you would’ve come home crying, drunk and with your heart shattered; that would’ve meant that you did take risks, but the universe simply wasn’t ready to take your side yet. You could’ve laid in bed and fantasized all you wanted, but none of those scenarios would’ve ever looked like this one.

As Yoongi opened the door of the entrance of his building, you caught a glimpse of the hour in the watch on his wrist. It took him half an hour and more than a few kisses to ask you to leave the party with him, two minutes to pick your jackets from the cloakroom, and only five minutes to drive to his apartment, and yet it felt like the longest car ride of your life. You thought that after twenty one years of life of never getting what you wanted, the universe should at least grant you the wish to skip the car ride to Yoongi’s apartment, because you had never felt so much tension before. You sank in the passenger seat and tried to avoid his gaze as much as possible, the mere thought of being alone with Yoongi was starting to give you goosebumps; the seat belt and the fact that he had to keep both hands on the steering wheel were the only things that were keeping him away from you.

The scenario was displayed right in front of you; he opened the door, letting you inside first and walking to the elevator with a cheeky smirk on his face. It wasn’t in your plans to leave less than an hour into the new year, and yet you were there, following the person you tried to forget so many times into his apartment, feeling like a handful of nerves.

You observed him opening the doors of the old elevator and then ran to get inside before him, crashing your back against the wall so it could keep you as far away from him as possible. You still didn’t understand what the fuck you were doing going into his apartment.

Yoongi got in after you, staring at you like you went mad, and honestly, it kinda felt like you did. You wanted to punch him when he laughed at you as he closed the doors, curiously raising his eyebrows. “Are you running away from me?” He asked, pressing the fourth button on the wall. It only took him one step to be as close to you as he was. You breath hitched, not feeling as confident as you felt when you were surrounded by people. “Still?”

You felt the sudden shift as the elevator ascended to the fourth floor. Yoongi and his mom had always lived in the same old building. The hallway walls were a dull brown, and the elevator had heavy accordion-style metal doors that folded inward and had to be closed manually. When you pressed the button to go up or down, the whole thing shook as if it was about to break down—but it never did. The mirror inside was old and smudged, you caught his reflection in the corner of your eye but you tried to ignore it, his presence alone was making you shiver.

You shook your head, unable to utter another word.

“No?” He kept insisting. He was teasing you, he had been teasing you for the whole night and you weren’t sure if you could take it anymore. You were tired of playing nonchalant, you just wanted to kiss him again.

He took a step forward, grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him. His fingers found each other in the small of your back, pressing you against him and taking you by surprise when he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and kissed you deeply. He slowly opened your mouth to slide his tongue past your lips, making it difficult to breathe or to even think.

You grasped his shoulders with your fingers in case he wanted to pull away but there was no need. You weren’t sure how many times you had tried to decipher whether you were caught in a dream or if this was reality, because there was no way Yoongi knew exactly how to kiss you to make every logical thought on your mind disappear, but when the elevator shook again you were pulled out of your trance, you were not dreaming, somehow this was real.

“Who knew this was the only way to get you to shut up.” He murmured, brushing his lips against yours.

“Fuck you.” You whispered, and you hated it because it doesn’t come out as an insult at all.

He chuckled, “Oh, there you are again.”

He took your hand to drag you out of the elevator, leading the way to his apartment door at the end of the dark hallway.

For Yoongi, your house was almost like his second home—but you could count only a couple of times you had been to his, like when your mom picked him up because Simon and he were going to a comic convention for the first time. You were ten, already with the worst attitude, mad that you had to go with your nerd brother and his nerd friend to some nerd convention. But when you arrived at Yoongi’s apartment, he took you to his room and—attempting to change your mood—showed you the keyboard his mom had gotten him for his birthday. You remembered that a few weeks prior, he had told you he was teaching himself how to play, and you asked him if he could learn "Last Night on Earth" by Green Day. That morning, before leaving, he played it for you under one condition: that you stop being mad.

When you walked through the door and saw the living room immersed in complete darkness, you couldn’t help but wonder if he still remembered how to play the song.

“Do you still have the keyboard?” You asked, unsure how to act around him alone. The air felt heaving, and nerves were still fluttering in your stomach. You had never been nervous to be alone with a man ever; it was usually the other way around, but not with him, never with him.

Yoongi smirked, not believing you were thinking about that. “Is that why you’re so quiet? You’re thinking about my old keyboard?”

“You’re pissing me off.” You warned him, digging your finger on his chest, but he’s quick to pull you close to him again, laughing at you. You, who were always so cocky and quick-witted with your insults, now you were standing there, struggling to find a retort. There was no way you were this nervous to be alone with a man you’ve known literally all your life.

“It’s in my room.” He whispered, brushing his thumbs over your waist.

You swallowed, feeling your heart drop to your stomach.

“I…” You tried to say, but he was still looking at you the same way he was observing you back in the car, it was probably the same way he had been looking at you during these past weeks, but you couldn’t help but feel it was different. “I didn’t mean that.” You managed to finish your sentence.

He quietly chuckled, shaking his head “You want to see the keyboard. What else could you mean?”

You pressed your lips together, holding back the urge to curse him again. Ignoring your red cheeks, he took your hand before you could say anything back, making his way to his bedroom.

Yoongi’s home hasn’t changed too much, except for the frames on the walls that now had pictures of a much older Yoongi, or when he graduated high school and pictures on family holidays. You took a second to look at them as you walked towards his room but you were distracted when you felt his fingers on your chin, gently turning your face towards him.

“I like that picture.” You pointed at your left, a picture your mom took when both him and Simon graduated. It was Yoongi and Nari, his mom. Yoongi had a fresh cut and some square black glasses that he changed as soon as he got into college. “I was really sad when you left.” You confessed suddenly.

You weren’t intending for your words to carry a touch of sorrow, but they still linger with a hint of sadness in the air.

“Were you?” He murmured and you nodded.

You had always wondered what would have happened if you and Yoongi had grown up at the same time—what if it had been you instead of Simon? You wouldn't have had to see them leave together; you wouldn't have felt so disappointed when they came to visit every other weekend. Maybe you would’ve grown up less angry. You came to accept what you had, Yoongi was there for every important moment of you life; he taught you how to drive, helped you pass your math tests, he was the one who talked you out of your relationship with your asshole ex boyfriend, he was there for your graduation, to send you off to college, he was everywhere but you, on the other hand, were just a tiny piece of his life.

He cupped your face, chasing away all those swirling thoughts as he kissed your lips softly. He walked backwards, guiding you into his room while deepening the kiss. As the door closed behind you, a quiet certainty settled in your heart: your past had led you to this moment.

You sighed, feeling the ghost of his lips when he pulled away to search for something.

The dim light of the lamp next to Yoongi’s bed didn’t do much to illuminate the room, but provided enough lighting to observe how much it changed since the last time you were there. It didn’t look like the room of a teenager anymore, most of the posters were no longer there and the action figures were replaced by books now, but his keyboard was still folded next to his closet.

Yoongi grabbed it and carefully put it at the feet of his bed. He sat on the edge, inviting you to sit between his legs.

You narrowed your eyes at him, hesitating. “You…”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, tugging at your hand and guiding you to sit on his lap, your back against his chest as you faced the keyboard.

And, by the way, have you mentioned how nervous you were? You took a deep breath, dreaming, hoping, wishing he wouldn’t notice, but you were a fool if you thought Yoongi couldn’t read you like the palm of his hand.

“Do you do this with all the girls?” You dared to ask, but the truth was that you didn’t want to know the answer.

He kissed your exposed shoulder, resting his chin on it. “C’mon, you’re the one who asked to see the keyboard.”

You turned your head to him, a bit offended. “Is that a yes?”

“That was a no.” He retracted himself, he knew you well enough to know that he shouldn’t play with you unless he wanted to see you walk through the door. “What about the keyboard?”

You decided to ignore the swift change of topic. “Do you still remember how to play?” You asked, touching the keys and jumping a bit when it sounded a bit too loud.

“I’m a bit rusty, but sure I do.”

“Do you remember when… I asked you to learn a song?”

“Yes, I remember that,” He said, chuckling. “I also remember that the day I played it for you you were really pissed because your mom couldn’t find a nanny and had to hang out with me and Simon. You called me a nerd, very cruel.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “God, I was such a terrible kid back then.”

“Well, yes, maybe.” He admitted “But you were also a really cool kid. You made us listen to My Chemical Romance the whole ride. I remember that your mom hated it, but it was the only thing that could keep you happy.”

You bursted out a laugh, remembering how big of a fan you were of My Chemical Romance, you still were. Your mom thought you were too young to be listening to that, but Simon bought you their second record for your birthday and she knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, she had no other option but to let you keep it.

“I don’t know how my mom put up with me,” you said, shaking your head with a grin. “It probably drove her crazy.”

“Mmm, you always had that effect on people,” he teased, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. “In both good and bad ways.”

“Is that really the impression I leave on you?” You shot back, raising an eyebrow playfully. He hummed thoughtfully, admitting it without hesitation. “And in what way is it for you?”

“In both ways,” He replied, his tone light and teasing.

You bit your lips, trying to hold back a smile. “You’re so whipped, it’s ridiculous.” You said “I wanted you to play the keyboard but I rather hear you compliment how cool I am.”

“Oh, shut up.” He huffed, gently slapping your thigh “What did you want me to play, again?”

“The song I told you!” You reminded him.

“Oh, right!” He laughed, “I remember it, it was easy to learn.” He said and began to play the first chords “It reminds me of you, how could it not?” You smiled, watching his long fingers make the room full with music, you sang the song in your head, being hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia. “I want you to play it with me.”

You frowned “But I don’t know how.”

“I know, dummy.” He replied, grinning as he halted the music and pulled his fingers away from the keys. “Like this, see?” He gently took your hands, aligning your fingers with his, his palms covering the tops of yours as he began to play.

You laughed, fully aware it sounded awful—nothing like when he played solo—but your heart had never felt so at ease. His laughter danced through your hair, his body shaking beneath you, and you lost track of when the sound might end, as if it were a never-ending loop. All you wished was for it to last forever.

After two minutes, he intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing the song to a halt. “You’re good with the keys,” he joked. “Not as good as me, but you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to wrap your arms around his neck. It felt a bit strange to be so close, but when his hands glided up and down your exposed thighs, and he looked into your star-filled eyes in the dim light, it suddenly felt just right.

His eyes were shining under the dim lights, biting his lips as he grasped your hips to keep you in place.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He said, somehow pulling you closer “I missed you while I was gone, that’s all.”

How much? you wanted to ask him, and when, for how long? And why? You wanted to know everything, to dive into the turmoil of his mind, to see yourself through his eyes.

You wanted to make an effort to hide how easily you melted when it came to him, but then again, why hide it? If you had the chance to grab his face and kiss him, that was exactly what you should do, and that was exactly what you did.

Your tights hugged his waist, and you tried not to flinch when his hands gripped your waist, slowly running his palms down the curve of your ass. He kissed you slowly, fingers tracing the line of your jaw as he deepened the kiss, slow and intoxicating. Each movement was controlled, filled with intent, as though he was savoring every second, every breath you shared. The warmth of his lips, the soft hum of desire between you, built gradually. His fingers teased their way under your dress, but they stopped there for a moment, as if he was playing with you. He pulled away, leaving a peck on your lips. “You aren’t so shy anymore.” He teased you, brushing his nose against yours.

“You’re so annoying,” you squinted your eyes at him.

He smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “And…” his lips moved to your jaw, “…you are…” then to the curve of your neck, “…so pretty.” Taking advantage of how lost you were in the moment, he gently flipped you over, positioning himself between your legs, now hovering above you.

Yoongi sighed, feeling completely defeated. He, more than anyone, knew how beautiful you were: you were beautiful in the mornings, with messy hair and sleepy eyes; when you wore mismatched socks and a hoodie; in your pajamas; when you stumbled over your words,when you were shy and flustered, when you were angry and looked you were about to kill someone. Even if you hid in crowded rooms and always sat in the back of the class you couldn’t hide it, you had grown up beautiful, but specifically tonight you seemed to have stars in your eyes. All your makeup was smudged, half of the product of your lipstick was on Yoongi’s face and the dark shadow in your eyes was a mess, but he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

“You have the prettiest eyes, you know that?”

You felt your cheeks flush, heat creeping up your neck. “Are you trying to make me nervous?” You asked.

He kissed your lips before answering “Why, is it working?”

You shook your head in denial, lying shamelessly. You ran your hands from his abdomen to his chest, not knowing what to do next. Your mind and heart were racing, if you thought twice about it you didn’t even know what you were doing there, laying under him as he caressed your thighs, as he kissed your neck, as he pressed his body firmly against yours.

“Can you tell me something?” You whispered.

He gently brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. “What is this?”

“What was that thing you said about last summer?” You asked “What did you mean?”

Those words were still ringing in your mind since you heard them; that's what I’ve been doing since last summer. You wanted to know what he was talking about, but instead, he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning. “C’mon, tell me…” you chuckled.

“I was not supposed to say that out loud.”

“Why?” You insisted “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not embarrassed.” He firmly said “But there’s some things I should keep to myself.”

You rolled your eyes “Yoongi, tell me now…”

“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” He said, surrendering to your tactics, which consisted only of a warning glance. “Last summer we spent some time together, some time with Simon, some time alone, but always together. I began to see you differently, you were different, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.”

“Why were you feeling guilty?” You cautiously asked.

He stopped for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Mmm… I felt I wasn’t supposed to look at you differently.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Exactly how different?”

“Well, different,” he repeated, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“What was it?” You frowned “Was it my eyebrows? I laminated my eyebrows for the first time last summer. Everyone said I looked prettier.”

Yoongi shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. How could you think it was your eyebrows?

“It wasn’t your eyebrows, but they suit you nicely.” He complimented, making you smile.

“Well, thanks.” You happily said “But then, what was it? I don’t remember being particularly diff-”

“It was your bikini, Pinky,” he interrupted, his confession coming out suddenly. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you tried to process his words. You blinked a few times, searching his face for any hint of teasing, but he looked serious—almost too serious. “There was this weekend where you were wearing a bikini with strawberries on it and… I gave you more than a few looks and felt like I was beginning to go crazy…” His expression remained sincere, almost thoughtful.. “I thought it would go away, you are a pretty girl, I supposed it was only logical to feel attracted. But then, I started to dream about you and that made everything worse, but that’s too much information.”

“No, I want to know.” You kept insisting, teasing him “Tell me what you were dreaming about.”

“You don’t want to know.” He brushed it off.

You reached for the buttons of his shirt, with a gentle touch, you unfastened the first button. “But I do want to know.”

Yoongi leaned in, kissing your lips softly as if that could make you forget the topic of conversation, but of course it didn’t, you were still looking at him, eager to know.

“Dreams, Pinky, of you… in that bikini… without a bikini, in my bed.” He said in a soft breath as he swept his palm on his face. He didn’t look embarrassed but you could tell he would rather not share that information. A single flashback of one of those dreams was enough to drive him to the edge. He thought that after leaving they would stop, but you keep appearing in the back of his mind like some kind demon, sent to earth just to torture him. You weren’t embarrassed either, you wished he could tell you more. “And the worst part is—that wasn’t all. I wish it were that simple. I wish I could just say that I’m only a man, and trust that at some point my dreams would stop. But even outside my dreams, you were still there, and you were funny and smart and you seemed to be the solution to all my problems. I don’t know, I keep wondering if I was nuts.”

You could only gaze at him, with your eyes wide and soft, absorbing every word. You had spent the whole summer with Yoongi and yet, you haven’t noticed his change at all. Yoongi wasn’t like other boys, he was composed, he knew how to controll himself, but you found yourself wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t. You bit your lip, smiling. “And what about now?” You asked. “Did you come to a conclusion after all?”

“Yeah, a few” He nodded “I think I wasn’t crazy for dreaming of you, but I will be if I don’t take this dress off you.”

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls, @overtherainbow35, @namin13, @p34rluv, @moonchild1, @yoongisoftface , @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts , @yoongisducky , @bangtansmauyeondan , @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater @ot7stansthings @curiouslioncutie

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measuredingold · 2 months ago

Text

coeur d'alene

authors note: i was a minute late posting on the 31st, but i'm still counting this as my noah day present to you all :) here’s part two of heaven sent, and i hope you all enjoy it. it took a long time for me to finish this and idk how i really feel but, i think it’s sweet LOL feedback is always appreciated :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

cross-posted on ao3 / part one

word count: 4.1k

cw/tw: friends to lovers, realization of ~feelings~, fluff, ~kissing~, angst, miscommunication trope at its finest, lots of tension, noah is still very much a sweetheart, 18+ minors do not interact

You wake slowly the next morning, the soft light of the sun flooding into your room. You blink once, twice, three times before groaning softly, squeezing your eyes shut to keep out the light. It was bright - way too bright for your poor eyes and your sleepy brain. It takes you a second to come to, flopping onto your back as you rubbed at your eyes. You groaned, arms flopping down beside you, and your brain finally caught up to the realization that you were alone.

Alone. In your bed. That you originally weren’t alone in.

You turn your head to where Noah had once laid beside you and your heart drops to your stomach. The sheets weren't warm, but they weren't cold. If he had left, it was probably in the last 30 minutes or so.

You try to control your rapidly beating heart, telling yourself he probably went to shower or that he's in the kitchen making breakfast. Your ears strain to try and see if you can hear the running water of the shower, or maybe the playlist he loves to blare when he cooks, but you hear nothing. Your heart rate quickens again, and you reach over to your bedside table to grab your phone. Maybe he sent a text.

You sift through your notifications, hoping to find one from Noah with any indication where he ran off to, but find nothing from him. You go to your guys text thread, heart twisting beneath your chest when the last text was from him a few days prior.

Fuck.

You sink back into your bed, trying to blink away the burning feeling in your eyes as you stare up at the ceiling.

He left. Without a word. Didn't even bother waking you up to tell you, just slipped out of your room without a goodbye. Something swirls inside of you, building up in the base of your throat but you swallow it back down.

You should've expected it, you think. He was probably freaked out from the reality of the situation. Seriously, who can sleep with their bestfriend and be normal after? You slap your hand onto your forehead, mentally cursing yourself as your eyes begin to burn more. This time you don't blink away the tears, allowing them to slide down your face freely.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You should have never fucking asked. How could you do this?

The one relationship in your life that you cherished more than anything down the fucking drain because you... wanted to stop feeling so behind? You could have slept with anyone. Anyone in the world and yet you chose Noah. Your heart twists beneath your chest at just the thought of your friend and you don't stop the quiet sob that slips from your lips, hands coming up to cover your face.

How can you face him after this? Wherever he went off to, he'll have to come back. Because he lives here. In the same apartment. With you. God, how could you be so fucking stupid?

You let yourself cry, rolling over onto your bed to bury your face into your pillow. Your entire body freezes when you realize it was the pillow Noah had used the night prior, and it still smelled like him. More tears fell at that, your stomach twisting so violently that it made you feel physically ill. Your sobs grew, arms circling around the pillow to pull it closer to you, face pressing so hard into the fabric of the pillow case that it almost hurt.

Your mind is racing, images of last night running through your head and it only makes you feel worse. It was almost everything you could've ever wanted, everything you pictured out of your first time. You never felt so cared for in your life, and the way Noah was so gentle with you... under better circumstances, you would have blushed, but instead your stomach just twists again as another sob rips from you.

The reminder of his gaze on you stings much worse than you could have ever thought. Your skin burned where he touched you, which was everywhere, and your lips felt sore at the reminder of the kiss you shared. The only kiss you have ever shared with Noah, and will ever share probably, and that thought alone brings a sour taste into the base of your throat.

You find yourself wishing that there could be more kisses and moments like last night with your best friend, and that realization is scary all in itself.

You trusted Noah, that much is true, but maybe somewhere deep down, the reason you had asked him wasn't just on that alone. Maybe... there was something more, lingering in the back of your mind, your heart, and you just hadn't noticed it yet. Or chose not to notice it? You're not sure, but either way it's here now, pushing it's way through and God... it fucking hurts.

You cry until you can't anymore, until it hurts to even blink, and then you're pushing yourself up and out of your bed. You're not sure if it's because of the raging headache you're sporting at the moment, or if it really is a good idea, but you decide on the only thing you can think of at the moment that may salvage your relationship with Noah.

Ignore everything. Act like nothing happened. If you do that, maybe he'll realize it wasn't a big deal and things will go back to normal. That'll work, right?

Something in the pit of your stomach tells you you're completely wrong, but you listen to that loud part in your brain that just won't shut up. You're going to shower and then hole up in your room. Maybe you'll take a drive. Anything to take your mind off of last night and off of Noah entirely.

Your stomach twists again in that way you hate at the thought of your best friend, and you do your best to shove it to the back for at least a few more hours.

Noah feels lighter when he steps back into your shared apartment, a small smile on his face. The song he and Jolly worked on this morning was coming together and he felt really fucking good about it. So good, in fact, his feet were already dragging him towards your room, excitement filling him to tell you all about his morning endeavor.

He realized he can’t wait to see you, excitement only growing as he inches closer to your door. His mind wanders to last night and his skin buzzes just at the thought, stomach turning in the most delicious way. His face flushes at the thought of you beneath him, and his step slows down.

He never thought in a million years he'd ever been in a position like that with you. Had the thought ever crossed his mind? Sure, but he would never ever even consider making a move on you. You were his best friend - one of the most important people in his life. He wasn't about to ruin that, and maybe that's why he initially declined your offer. Though, the more he thought about it, the more he inched towards yes.

What really sealed the deal was the thought of you being under someone else. It made his skin crawl, and his stomach turned so roughly that he almost made himself sick over it, learning quickly that that feeling was jealousy.

He feels a bit selfish having agreed to your favor, because he knew deep down it was more than just being a good friend. Maybe those feelings he thought he had pushed back into the deepest parts of his brain had vanished after the many years of being your friend, but he thinks it just grew. Slowly, but surely, and then all at once whenever you looked up at him last night, eyes glossed over and his name on your tongue.

He knocks on your door and waits, but after a solid minute of silence passes by his hand twists the knob, slowly pushing your door open. He expected to find you asleep in bed, growing excited at the thought of crawling back in with you, but his heart drops when he realizes you were nowhere to be found. Your bed was neatly made and your bag you typically kept on your desk was gone, indicating you were probably out.

Which was fine. He reaches for his phone, maybe having missed your text that you wouldn't be home, but finds nothing from you. That's odd.

He frowns, thumbs already moving across his screen as anxiety bubbles slowly in his chest. Usually you'd at least let him know you'd be out or even where you had gone, but giving him nothing was completely out of the norm for you.

where are you?

With a friend! Be home later.

His brows furrow at your message. Relief doesn't wash over him like he thought it would, instead dread fills his stomach.

You have other friends. This isn't anything out of the ordinary, he's come home to you not being there. You can hang out with other people. However, after last night, something in the back of his mind is screaming at him that something’s wrong. He shakes it off, chalking it up to his anxiety messing with him, thumbs moving again.

just checking :) got worried lol when will you be back?

Not sure. Don't wait up :)

His stomach drops. He didn't like the way that made him feel, the anxiety inside of him bubbling over. He scrolled up to your other text thread, seeing the messages shared between the two of you and the obvious vibe switch. To an outsider, this would probably look like a normal text between two friends, but deep down he knew something was up.

He makes his way to his room, chewing on his bottom lip as his mind races. Had he done something last night? Noah can't think of a single thing he may have done wrong, having thought he had done everything right. He did his best to make sure you were taken care of, the way he had wished his first time was, but maybe he hadn’t.

Or maybe you just simply didn’t like it.

He tells himself not to dwell on it, trying to find something to do to pass the time until you come home. That doesn’t work, because he finds himself staring at the ceiling hours later, the anxiety inside of him growing as each minute passes.

Fuck.

You managed to stay out much longer than you anticipated, turns out you had a lot to say to Anna when you had asked her if you could come over. You were scared that she was going to judge you for asking Noah to be your first, but instead she sat patiently with you on her bed, listening intently to everything you had to say.

When you were finished, she simply smiled at you before asking, "You like Noah, don’t you?"

All you can do is nod, and if you hadn't cried yourself out that morning, you would have probably cried right then and there.

She didn't seem shocked, instead only smiled more before telling you that she figured as much, and maybe even confessed that that's why she suggested to you to ask someone you trusted like Noah, because she knew, and you quote, Noah would never say no to you. You're not sure what to do with that information, because she refused to elaborate, saying you'll understand eventually.

Hours later, when you came home and quietly tip-toed to your room, you thanked God that Noah was asleep. It was close to midnight, you think, and you had to pass his room to get to yours. His door was cracked open and you could just barely see him curled up in his bed, and the sight alone made your heart clench beneath your chest.

Anna said you had to talk to him, and you think eventually you will, but the thought still hurts. You'll have to do it when it doesn't anymore, yet you're not sure when that will be. You toss and turn that night in bed, eyes glued to your ceiling as every single possible scenario passed through your mind.

What if you had truly ruined your relationship with Noah? You had to have, seeing as he didn't even feel comfortable enough to stay long enough for you to wake up.

You let yourself cry one more time, mourning the loss of one of the most important people in your life, before you finally drifted off to sleep. Then, that morning when you woke, you told yourself that you'd talk to him tonight. Apologize for everything and tell him it can be forgotten, and hope you can go back to normal eventually.

His door is still shut when you wake up, and you rush to your shared bathroom to try and hurry through your morning routine. You pray that he doesn’t wake, and when you’re tiptoeing back to your room, his door is still shut.

You’re relieved, but there’s still a small part of you that wishes maybe, just maybe, he would’ve been out here waiting for you. You crawl back into bed after that, deciding you’ll rot there for the day before having to face your roommate.

Maybe you’ll take another nap. Maybe you’ll finish that book you’ve been putting off for months.

You actually don’t get to do any of that because your door is being pushed open, Noah staring at you from the doorway. At first you don’t do anything, hell, you don’t even breathe. Your eyes widen as you stare at your best friend, whose eyes are narrowing at you.

“Alright,” Noah stares at you on your bed, hands on his hips. “What the fuck is your problem? Was it seriously that bad that you’ve resorted to straight up ignoring me?”

You sit frozen, pulling your blankets up your body. “What?”

“Was it bad?” He repeats, his tone insistent. “Or did I hurt you? I had to have done something for you to ignore me.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, embarrassment and slight anger running through because this is what he wanted to talk about after leaving you alone? “I’m fine. It was great.”

He stares at you for a beat before his arms fall to his sides, mouth dropping into a frown. "Okay, cool. That still doesn't explain why you've been ignoring me."

The anger outweighs your embarrassment and you sit up fully in your bed, eyes narrowing in a glare at your best friend.

"Well, why haven't you talked to me?" Your arms cross over your chest, tilting your chin up. "Besides, you're the one who left me alone in the morning without a fucking word."

You could hear a pin drop with how silent the room fell, the frown on Noah's face slipping away. Your heart raced beneath your chest as you watched Noah's face fall into one of confusion and then into understanding, soft brown eyes widening as yours only narrowed more.

"Shit. I didn't text you."

Your brows furrowed. "What?"

"I meant to text you." He says almost frantically now, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Holy shit, is that why you haven't talked to me? Because you thought I left you alone?"

"Well, I didn't have to think about it - you did leave me alone."

His lips form into a frown again. "It’s not what you think."

"Well, what am I supposed to think, Noah?"

He sighs before running a hand down his face.

"Jolly called me about some studio time, caught me up on an idea he had and I think I just got so excited over the whole thing I just... left?" He comes to stand next to your bed, frown still evident on his lips. "And I meant to text you, because I couldn't get myself to wake you up. You looked too cute. Didn't wanna disturb you after um… the night you had."

Your face flushes at his words, flashes of your night shared together racing through your mind. Noah notices, his own face flushing, before sitting down beside you. Your shoulders tense at the closeness.

He continues, "I was going to come back. I wouldn't just leave after that. I'd never do that to you."

You let his words linger. If you had thought about it with a more rational mind, you would’ve realized that yeah, Noah would never do that to you. Leaving you without a word made no sense whatsoever.

"Well." Your shoulders deflate, giving your friend a sheepish look. "I really wish you had texted me, because then I wouldn't have convinced myself you hated me and regretted the entire thing."

"Hate you? Babe, I would never." He looked at you, almost offended, and yet your body was buzzing at the slip of the pet name. "And for the record, I don't regret anything. As long as you don't."

"I don't." It flies from your lips so quickly that your face warms from embarrassment, Noah's own face flushing. "I don’t regret it at all. As long as you don't."

"I don't." He mimics your words, much softer than you had, and his gaze falling on you makes you feel warm all over.

Your mind was racing, trying to catch up with everything. Noah hadn't actually left you in a haste of regret, instead left because... he got excited about new music? A text he had meant to send was forgotten due to likely being distracted by whatever Jolly had sprung onto him, and you feel like punching yourself for not using the rational part of your brain and talking to him to begin with. Anna even told you that you should, but by then you had fully convinced yourself he hated your guts.

If only you had texted him that morning, maybe all this miscommunication would've never happened. Instead, you'd not only caused anxiety for yourself, but for Noah, and that thought alone upsets you immensely. You meet Noah's eyes with a frown, arms tightening around your chest.

"I'm sorry." You tip your head back with a groan, hands now coming up to cover your face. "If I had just... fucking texted you like a normal person, we wouldn't be in this weird mess."

"It's not a mess. Just miscommunication at its finest." Noah chuckles halfheartedly at his joke, and you feel the covers shift as he scoots closer to you. "It happens, and honestly, I should've just woken you up. That would've probably solved everything."

"Maybe."

Noah pauses before asking, “So… you actually don’t regret it?”

“No.” You flush, before quietly adding, “…It was amazing.”

He flushes. "...Yeah?"

You feel him scoot closer, your covers shifting and all you can do is nod. He's close enough now that you can feel his body heat, and the urge to reach out to touch him was suddenly the only thing you could think about.

"Mhm. Thank you... you didn't have to do that."

"I didn't." He hums and you realize just how much closer he's gotten. If it weren't for the blanket still partially wrapped around your body, your legs would be touching, and the thought brings a shiver down your spine. "But I wanted to. Thank you for trusting me."

You don't know how it happens, or when it happens, but the second your eyes meet Noah's again it's like some gravitational pull is tugging you towards him. It's all one big blur, a flurry of limbs as Noah reaches for you while you're trying to free yourself of the blanket wrapped around your body to crawl into his lap. Your lips smash together in a bruising kiss but you don't even care, especially when Noah makes the sweetest noises against your lips.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you settle into his lap, legs on either side of his hips, and his fingers dig into your thighs. The groan he lets out against your lips goes straight to your core and the reminder of last night is clear as day in your mind. You're overwhelmed, the need to be as close as possible to him again flooding your senses. It's you who lets out a noise this time, a desperate whine, and Noah pulls back at that, eyes half-lidded.

You catch your breath before you're chasing his lips again, drunk off the feeling, and your hips start moving on their own, grinding yourself into him. You gasp at the feeling of his hardening cock between your thighs and Noah takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth, swallowing the noises you were making. He pulls back only trailing his lips across your cheek and down your jaw, nipping at your skin. Your eyes are beginning to roll back at the same time he sighs out your name, fingers inching dangerously close to where you needed him the most, before something inside of you snaps.

"Wait." The almost drunken-haze you had felt from his kiss was shattered, the reality of everything falling all at once. You pull back from his kiss against your skin, resting your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself steady at how fast you moved, eyes widening. "Wait, wait, wait. What the fuck are we doing?"

Noah pulls back from your neck, brown eyes glossed over in what you can only assume was want. He blinks before realization fills his features, and you feel his grip on your thighs loosen.

"I..." You can't help but watch his neck when he swallows, and also can't help but follow his tongue as it swipes across his bottom lip. "I don't know. I just really wanted to do that again."

His words hit you right in the chest, heart pounding against your ears. "Really?"

"Yeah. I haven't stopped thinking about it," He murmurs, and you watch his eyes drop from yours back down to your lips. "Kind of want to keep doing it."

"Oh." It comes out weakly, and you're not sure if the flush on your cheeks was from his words or from the kiss you just shared. Maybe both. "You want to keep doing it?"

"Yeah." His eyes drag back up to yours and you see something flash in them, something that has your stomach turning in a way you've never felt before. Were those butterflies? "I think I have for a while. Is that okay?"

Oh.

Your heart was beating so rapidly against your chest and you couldn't find the right words to say, because what the fuck was he talking about? He wanted to kiss you? And has been wanting to for a while? Your mind immediately goes back to Anna, to her telling you that you'll understand eventually, and suddenly it was all starting to make sense. Your arms settled back around his neck and you felt his fingers dig into your skin again, eyes never leaving yours.

"I think I have for a while, too, so um.” You swallow down the nerves, giving Noah a timid smile. “Yes. Very much okay."

You see the ghost of a smile on his lips, outer corners turning up at your words. "Yeah?"

You nod, but instead of answering you lean back towards him. He meets you halfway, lips pressing to yours in a much different kiss than the one you had just shared. It wasn't as frantic, filled with something you can't quite place yet, but you were obsessed. It made you feel warm, almost like you were floating, and you quickly realized you would never get enough of it.

You've never experienced this with another person in your life and you're suddenly thinking about how you never want to do this with anyone else. Just Noah.

You squeak against his lips when you feel him lift you up and toss you onto the bed, your back meeting the sheets. He's on top of you immediately, but he doesn't attach his lips to yours just yet, instead stares down at you with the softest brown eyes you'd ever seen.

"I also think I've liked you for a lot longer than I've realized, and I hope that's okay, too." He looks almost terrified to say that, and you feel a pang of sadness punch you in the stomach.

"That's more than okay," You all but whisper, reaching out to pull Noah down to you, "because I think I have too."

You don't miss the relieved smile Noah gives you before his lips were back on yours, his body melting right on top of yours.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #mine

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months ago

Text

snowflakes dancing on the wind

the wistful wyvern, chapter one

a/n: this series is the second instalment i my eflorr trilogy. if you haven't already read fused with the foe, then i'd highly recommend reading that first so that you know what's going on.

summary: three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either.

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, flashbacks, alcohol consumption, kissing, dragon attack, childbirth (with very ronja rövardotter timing), blood, weapons, violence, crying

word count: 4296

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TEN YEARS AGO, ON THE THIRTY-SEVENTH DAY OF WINTER 848 PR

A biting chill swirled through the echoing halls of Yoslor Penitentiary that noon when two gruff guards yanked you from your cell and dragged you to the far side wing of the prison.

Passing countless doors, at last, they arrived at one with someone already on patrol on the outside. As a rusty key twisted in the lock with a reverberating click, the guard, still barely letting your feet skim the dirty floor, practically shoved you inside the chamber.

As they threw you down into a cold chair and yanked at your chains to fasten them in a strong loop smelted into the stone floor by your feet, a voice suddenly caught your ears and caused your squinting eyes to flicker up.

“Easy, boys! No need to drag her by the scruff of her neck as if she were a cat and not an eighteen-year-old girl,” you noticed the man already seated on the opposite side of the table, “would you please uncuff her?” he requested with an outstretched hand, a command, to your surprise, the guards obeyed, “thank you,” he leaned back in his seat as the manacles fell from your sore wrists.

Rubbing the angry marks wrapped around your joints, a shiver ran through you as you saw the cloud of your exhale clear in the air.

When the guards had settled on either side of the exit behind you, the blonde stranger opposing you tilted his head and asked, “do you know who I am?”

“Should I know who you are?” your gaze lifted from your wrists and met his, “look man,” you sighed heavily, “if I at some point stole something from you, I don’t have it anymore. I don’t really have much of anything anymore in here,” a short and dry chuckle tied a bow on your statement.

With his stare never straying, his chin then tilted slightly as he said, “I am Steven Grant Rogers, crown prince of Eflorr,” his title rolled off his tongue with such ease as if it didn’t have any merit at all, “and you’re Y/n Y/l/n, daughter of the famed One-eyed Ollie,” he rested his forearms against the table’s edge, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Blinking back at the royal, your brows furrowed softly at the mystery of why a man such as him would pay someone like you the time of day, “…alright, uh, sure.”

“We’ve kept an eye on you for a very long time, long before your father slipped away and made you take the fall for the break-in at the Sulmier estate,” your jaw couldn’t help but clench at the memory, “you’re very talented.”

“Yeah, can you just hurry up and tell me what you want?” you grunted as your knee tensely bounced beneath the table, “they’re serving soup today for supper and I’d rather not miss it.”

Huffing out what seemed like an amused breath, the prince glanced down a moment as he announced, “I have a proposition for you,” he met your gaze once more, “either you can pay for your father’s crimes here in prison or you can come work for me,” he offered slowly, “twenty years either way, but in here you will be treated as, well, essentially an animal,” his eyes briefly flicked around the cold chamber, “whereas with me you will be just as any other warden. You will have the same rights, the same opportunities, maybe even a home by the end of it.”

“…you wanna give me a job?” you squinted back at him.

To which he simply nodded, “yes.”

“Me?” your eyebrows only seemed to knit together tighter.

“Like I said, you’re very talented. I could use someone of your skillset,” he then leaned back in his seat, “so, I’ll give you some time to decide,” he clasped his hands together in his lap, “if you don’t show up at Fort Borün before all the snow has melted, then let’s just say that you wouldn’t be able to get very far with the bounty there’ll be on your head.”

The heavy ivory pelts that made up your cloak billowed around your frame as the piercing wind whirled it around. You had to lean forward a bit to even make any headway in the howling blizzard that coursed around you. Icy snowflakes struck the upper part of your features that the tugged-up scarf didn’t cover.

Squinting in the snowstorm as you crested the hill and walked under the archway, you glanced above and spotted icicles hanging from the drawn-up portcullis.

As you glanced around the courtyard and the snow-dusted castle looming in the background, your feet soon carried you over towards a pair of bundled-up wardens posted outside a door.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted the lewd joke one of them was halfway through telling, “could any of you–”

But it wasn’t till the soldier to the right jumped and yelped, “ah, by Apa!” that it occurred to you just how camouflaged your frosty visage had been in the blizzard.

“Holy fuck!” the other one clutched his heart after nearly drawing the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Oh gods, sorry. Thought you were a snowman some fucking pixies had put a curse on,” the first knight, whose head was warmed by a thick knitted cap, steadied his breathing with a short laugh, “what do you need?”

Glancing between them, you asked, “could you point me in the direction of Master Tully’s office?”

“Ah,” the beanie-wearing warden nodded, “you’re a new recruit?”

Stifling a laugh, you tilted your head and huffed, “you could say that.”

“I’ll show you,” the dark-haired one gestured, “come with me.”

“Thanks,” you offered him a small smile as he then held the door behind them open for you to enter first.

The dining hall of the bustling barracks that you entered nearly gave you whiplash with the warm contrast it had to the freezing environment you’d just been trudging through for weeks. The fireplace down on the far wall warmed the interior and lit up the faces of the soldiers halfway through their meals.

As you pulled back your snow-dusted hood and tugged your frosty scarf down to expose your nose and mouth, your palm attempted to brush some of the flakes off of you.

“He’s right over there,” your guide pointed to the balding man sitting alone at a table in the corner of the chamber, before he disappeared from your side and joined some comrades on a long bench, sneakily stealing a chunk of bread from one of their bowls.

Slowly stepping closer to the older man, hunched over some parchments as he dipped and softened a crusty piece of bread in his stew, you carefully croaked, “master Tully?”

“Aye?” he lifted his gaze to find you.

“Hi, I was told to come talk to you,” you stepped closer and reached out your hand, “I’m Y/n, I don’t know if you–”

“Ah, yes, Y/n! Great to have you on board, lass,” his gruff hand swiftly gave yours a shake, “you must be tired after that long journey, so why don’t you grab a bowl,” he briefly pointed to the humble buffet off to the side, “have a wee rest, and then we’ll sit down and discuss everything after that, yeah?”

Offering him a light nod, you agreed, “sounds good, sir.”

As you wandered over to fill up a bowl, Tully waved over the warden who’d shown you the way.

“Barnes?”

Swiftly, the soldier rose from his seat, “yes, sir?”

“Go show Y/n her quarters,” Tully returned his attention towards his stew.

Barnes’ dark brows then knitted together, “who’s Y/n?” to which his commander simply pointed with the hand still clutching a chunk of bread, “oh…” the warden’s glance followed the trail, “right…” before raising his voice to catch your ears, “oi, snow!” you didn’t turn around even as he neared, “hey!”

Dragging the curve of a spoon from your lips when you finally noticed his stare, you finally perked up, “who, me?” and pointed to yourself.

“Yeah you,” he didn’t slow down as he gestured for you to shadow him, “come.”

“Oh, uh,” with the bowl of stew still in your gasp, you tried not to spill as you scurried to keep up, “my name is actually Y/n,” you corrected him.

Halting his step momentarily, he turned and reached out an inked hand for you to shake, “Bucky,” a small smirk tugged at his lips as your eyes finally got the chance to wash over his visage now that his striking features weren’t veiled by a blizzard, “welcome aboard, snow.”

PRESENT DAY

You felt like somehow you should have predicted that this would be your welcome home greeting. That this striking heartbreak could have somehow been prevented if you’d only remembered when training was usually held.

It was just rubbing salt into the wound you’d been trying so fiercely to mend. Yet, it was still there, open and festering, bleeding till you nearly passed out. You couldn’t start doing that again, purposely seeking out the salt just to feel something, just to for a single second feel good before reality settled in again. Perhaps your timing had been on purpose, perhaps your subconscious had just been so strong that it had forced you to return home right at the time that practice was held in the middle of the courtyard, and none other than Bucky stood in the centre, shirtless and glistening with sweat, as he ran the newcomers through a drill, sparring with each and every one of them till they yielded.

You tried to get your feet to move again, you truly did, but you couldn’t keep walking past, couldn’t look away, could barely even breathe as he moved like water through the trainees.

But then suddenly, as your fiddling fingers had found the long, braided leather cord wrapped nearly a dozen times around your wrist to form a bracelet, the playful comment that left Bucky’s lips to egg the recruits on fell short, as his ocean eyes flickered up to find you, only worsening the bittersweet agony you were in.

THREE YEARS AGO, ON THE SEVENTY-SECOND DAY OF AUTUMN 855 PR

“Oh, wow,” Bucky swiftly lowered his goblet from his lips and exclaimed as his stare found you, right as you passed over the threshold and entered the bustling ballroom, “holy shit.”

Closing the short distance between you as he was standing off to the side, your skin prickled at his alarm, “what?”

“No, just–, you’re in a dress,” his gaze danced across the emerald silk draped around your form, the fabric’s shade made you stand out amidst all of the warm harvest fest decorations, “never thought I’d see the day…”

“Well, they aren’t really that practical in our line of work, so–”

“Oh, I beg to differ…” he smirked, taking a sip of wine which by the looks of it was in no way his first cup, “I think you should always be dressed like this…” slowly stepping closer, his stare continued to lick you up in a way it never had before, “especially with a neckline as low cut as that,” as his eyes brashly dipped to your cleavage, your hand couldn’t help but shoot up to tug it up a bit more, a nervous instinct that only conjured a deep chuckle within his chest, “happy harvest fest to me.”

With cheeks burning hotter than the sun, you coughed out, “you–, uh, you look good as well.”

“Oh, yeah?” he cheekily cocked a brow and leaned in a bit closer, causing your spine to press up against the wall behind you, “how good?”

As your heart fluttered and nearly flew out of your chest, you heard yourself sputter, “oh, well, I mean, you always look good, you just–, uh…” your words then poofed away into nothing as he nonchalantly tugged a stray piece of hair behind your ear and let his touch linger on your heated cheek, “uhm…”

“I just what, snow?” he purred, and you swore you saw his gaze flicker down to your lips.

“You–… you–…”

But before your wildest dreams could come true, an individual accidentally bumped into Bucky and lodged him far enough away from you to snuff out your hopes of the taste of his lips.

“Wow,” the guy briefly clapped Bucky’s wide shoulder, “sorry, mate.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled as the fella went on his way. Raising up his goblet for another sip, he then turned his attention back to you, “so,” his grin was still bright on his features, “you gonna let me dance with you tonight?”

“Dance?” your eyes grew wide, “oh, y-yeah,” you tried your best, though still failed to sound casual, “sure, if you want to.”

“Great,” he held your gaze a moment longer before saying, “I’m gonna go grab another drink, you want anything?”

“No thanks, I’m good,” though there was now a decent enough distance betwixt you two, you still stood virtually plastered against the wall.

“Alright,” he breathed as he began to back up, offering your gown one last glance before he disappeared, “that dress…” his head gently shook from side to side as a long exhale flowed from his lungs, “gods, you look way too hot tonight, it’s not fair.”

When his visage was no longer in sight, you slumped down a bit and took a generous breather, the grin on your face nearly making your cheeks ache.

After your pulse had settled back from the nervous butterfly he had transformed it into, a fellow warden spotted you and shouted.

“Hey, Y/n!” he waved for you to come over and join the little cluster he was on the edge of, “you’re still here! I thought you’d left already with lord fancy pants or whatever.”

“Lord Witherington, and yeah, it’s first in the morning that the ship leaves port,” you walked up to him.

“Well, at least you get to enjoy one last harvest fest extravaganza before becoming a babysitter.”

“Hey, he is doing important research up in Efira, in areas that haven’t been explored since Rimesunder’s demise,” you raised a slightly defensive hand as you noted the historical significance, “it’s an honour to protect him.”

“Yeah, yeah, honour and all that crap,” he sighed light-heartedly as he raised his mug up to his lips, “but you still have time to get seriously fucked up tonight.”

“So that I can be both seasick and hungover tomorrow?”

“So that you can for once cut loose and have one last fun night before you leave!”

Marinating on his point a moment, your thoughts couldn’t help but float away to Bucky.

What if tonight was the night? What if you just finally took the leap and told him how you felt?

Then, like a clock arm clicking into the new hour, you made your decision.

“Give me that,” you grabbed the drink out of his hands before he could take another sip.

“Wow, that’s what I’m talking about,” the soldier cheered as you swiftly downed the strong brew, “yeah!”

“Gods,” your face screwed up when you swallowed the last gulp, “that’s disgusting. What is that?”

“My uncle’s mead.”

“Urgh,” the sickly sweet taste burned on your tongue.

“Yeah, he’s not that good at it,” he accepted the mug as you passed it back in his grasp, “but it’ll sure get you pissed in two sips or less.”

Hoping that the half tankard you’d downed would grant you the courage you sought, you glanced around the ballroom, “I gotta–, uh, did you see where Buck went?” and when he then pointed out towards the main hallway, you offered him a small smile, “thanks,” before disappearing down that way.

You felt like you were gonna be sick as you walked through the crowds. But if it was from the nerves or the mead that was already making you dizzy, that you weren’t sure of.

As you searched the castle, carefully poking your head into drawing rooms and narrow hallways, you found yourself anxiously muttering just beneath your breath.

“…I just thought you should know that I like you–, no, not like that…” you shook your head at your tongue-tied attempt at figuring out how you’d profess to him, “James, I have been in love with you since the day I met you–, no, that’s stupid, I never call him James, that would just be weird–”

Your murmuring then hushed as you turned down a secluded hallway and spotted the very warden that you had combed the palace for, down towards the end of it.

The only thing was, he wasn’t alone.

Sliding deeper into the shadows, you couldn’t spare yourself the heartache and not look.

Bucky’s lips were attached to the long neck of some leggy blonde. Her quiet whimpers echoed against the fortress walls as he felt her up and surely littered her skin with heated lavender marks.

Suddenly, they shifted, turning till Bucky’s back was pressed up against the walls and, to your surprise, now no longer obscured by his bulky physique, another lady, a redhead, appeared beside the hickey-adored one.

“So,” the redhead bit her lip as she slid her palm down to pet the palpable tent in his pants, “are you gonna show us to your chambers or what?”

“Yes,” he breathlessly nodded, “yes I am,” before seizing their hands, “right this way,” they then stumbled further down the dark hallway till they disappeared from your sight, leaving you frozen in the engulfing shadows with tears silently streaming down your face.

PRESENT DAY

“Snow?” his eyes grew as wide as his grin, “gods, it is you!” Bucky then all but forgot about the training session he was in the middle of teaching and crossed the courtyard, “it’s really you!” once his brisk stride reached you, he plucked you up into his brawny arms and spun you around, “you’re back!”

As soon as your feet touched the ground again, you took a large step back, though hated how the distance gave you a better view of his naked torso.

“Hi, Bucky,” you uttered, readjusting the bag strung over your back.

Why did his touch still have to make your heart flutter?

“Three years,” he placed a wide palm on your shoulder, “three fucking years!”

Three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either.

“Yeah, you–, uh,” you swallowed the thickness of emotions that peeked through in your tone, “you grew a beard.”

“And you still look exactly the same…” his gaze washed over you as a soft sigh flowed from his lungs, “gods, I’ve missed you,” he then tilted his head and asked, “you missed me?”

“I–,” blinking back into the stormy sea of his eyes, you felt your frame begin to tremble at the feelings that were still as alive as ever, “uhm…” averting your gaze, you had to get away before everything burst, “I need to go report to the king,”

“Oh, yeah, right,” his electric touch slid from your shoulder, “last I saw, he and the queen were in the blue drawing room. You haven't met her yet! She’s kind, you’ll like her.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you refused to look back at him as you turned towards the main entrance to the castle.

And as you began to walk away, you heard his voice call after you, “really is good to have you back, snow!”

Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, a fleeting gasp escaped you as you saw the queen by the open window, shooting arrows after the beast that whirled outside.

“Your majesty,” you exclaimed as your eyes briefly flickered to her pregnant belly, “there you are!” you then swiftly crossed the room to yank open the small servant’s door, “this way!”

Reluctantly, the royal stepped back from the window, smoke and ash gushing into the castle from the opening, and followed you up the revealed stone spiral staircase.

As you rushed up the tower, your glances didn’t just dart back to the queen, only a few paces behind you, but every time you passed one of the narrow windows, your vision couldn’t help but catch the chaos down below.

The stubborn dragon, that had plagued the town of Borün for two whole years now, had returned.

With daggers still tight in your grasp, you tried not to think about the people you knew to be down there in the fray, wonder if they had all been burned to a crisp, but instead attempted to shake it off and focus on your mission at hand. The king had commanded you to flee the fight and protect his wife and unborn child.

A glint of fire reflected in the queen’s eyes as you glanced back at her to find her pace halted and her palm clutched on her stomach as she stifled a groan.

“My queen,” you dropped back down a step closer to her, “are you–”

“I’m fine,” she waved you off and drew in a shaky breath, “keep going, I’m right behind you.”

Soon at the top of the tower, you pushed the door open and held it for the noble to enter, your glance though darting out the window as she passed.

But when a low groan seeped from her throat, your gaze darted back to her with worry, “alright, that really doesn’t sound that good,” the door slammed behind you as you sheathed your weapons and stepped closer to her, “did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m–, ah! I’m alright,” she uttered through gritted teeth, her eyes squeezed shut as one hand reached out for the wall while the other stayed on her belly, “fuck…”

Glancing down towards her hand as it rubbed in slow, soothing circles, your eyes then widened, “are you–… your majesty, a-are you–”

“In labour?” her eyes barely opened as she met your tense gaze, “yeah. My waters broke a while ago.”

“Oh gods!” now you truly wished you’d just stayed down with the dragon, “now? Here? I–, I–, wha–, can’t you just turn it off?”

Letting both her quiver and bow slide off her frame and drop to the floor, she let out a strained exhale, “not really how it works.”

“I–, I–, okay, I don’t know what to do–”

“That’s fine,” her arm then reached out for your support, “I do,” you carefully helped her further into the chamber before she sank down a wall till she was seated on the floor, her pale yellow gown bunching around her legs, “alright, I’m gonna need one of your knives when its time to cut the umbilical cord.”

“O-okay,” eyes still wide, you checked your belt just in case they’d mysteriously disappeared in your panic.

Noticing the terrified expression on your face, the queen’s head tilted slightly as she said, “Y/l/n, please don’t pass out on me, I need you here with me.”

“No, no, I’m not gonna pass out,” you rushed to reply, though weren’t completely convinced yourself, “I just–, w-what do I do? Do I do anything?”

Raising up her fingers, she panted, “take my hand.”

“Alright, yes, of course,” you swiftly grabbed her palm.

You had no idea how much time passed, if your hand would eventually fall off for how hard she was squeezing it, or even how many times the royal’s groans, which threatened to morph into screams, reverberated off the palace walls and mixed with the chaos rumbling from outside.

Then suddenly, an echo shot through the castle, “dove!” and though she couldn’t find it in her to yell back, the familiar voice visibly thawed something within the queen.

“Up here!” you yelled as loudly as you could.

Swiftly, the door was kicked down, and in stormed a honey-haired man, whose bloodstained shield and stout axe promptly dropped to the floor with a loud clang.

“Steve!” the queen cried out through the relieved smile that softened her pained expression, “you’re here!”

“Yeah,” he looked as if a feather could have knocked him over, “I’m here, I’m here,” the king then rushed to switch places with you, kneeling beside his wife and clutching her hand in both of his, “what fucking timing our daughter has,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of him as he bought the back of her palm up to his lips and planted a chased peck upon it, “not even born yet and she already wants to join the fray,” he uttered, conjuring a slight laugh to crack through her pain, “a real fighter, just like her mom.”

Gazing up at him, a sombreness suddenly washed over her features as she then murmured, “my love, if I don’t–”

“No,” he swiftly cut her off, “that’s not gonna happen, you hear me? History won’t repeat itself, you’ve done everything in your power to make that so. You can do this, dove. I know you can.”

He held her hand through it all, took the sting as each one of her nails broke his skin and every ear-piercing curse she threw at him, till a new life was suddenly in the room, laying against the exposed skin on her mother’s chest and wailing about the sudden change in scenery.

#lea’s writing #eflorr au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut

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bvidzsoo · 5 months ago

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Love Me Like A Rockstar (12)

ー☆ Chapter 12: Shame On Me

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 5.5k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hiii, my lovelies! Shorter chapter but you won't have to wait too long, I'll update next week again! I don't think there will be any more updates to my other stories this week because I'm going to visit my bestie on Thursday and I only come home on Sunday (can't wait to see you again Orsi *cries*). You know the drill, please listen to Shame On Me before or while reading, thank you!! So, uh, you all will hate me after this chapter, I'm sorry in advance, but you can go scream at me in the notes and reblogs! <3 However, I promise the angst won't last for too long :D Thank you all for reading and always leaving feedback, I appreciate it a lot! I hope you enjoy this chapter, don't hate me pls. divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss @catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

It was quite ominous how well I had slept last night, and despite feeling my eyes burn from staying up too late and not getting enough sleep, I felt well-rested. Perhaps the unusual warmth engulfing my body had something to do with the way my muscles seemed to become one with the mattress, and the comfortable weight around my waist also made me want to give in to the calling of another slumber. I had woken up a few times before, trying to find new comfortable positions as I could hear the birds chirp outside and the sweet cologne that clung to my clothes and the sheets tingled my nose in a way I had to suppress a sneeze. But the sun was high up in the sky already, the blinds open as I felt the warmth of the sunlight on my face. I released a content sigh as my muscles begged for a good stretch, making me groan when I felt a few vertebras pop, tension releasing between them. Gosh, I wish I could wake up feeling this refreshed every morning.

The covers were thick, and thus, the non-existent melody of the bed calling out to me to stay for longer won as I melted back against the pillow, licking my dry lips as I was mildly surprised that there was no impeding headache. I would usually feel hungover even if I drank only a little—hence why I preferred staying away from alcohol—but maybe that hot chocolate I had last night was some magic drink. There was a low groan next to me and I smiled for a second, feeling thick fingers tangle into the waistband of the sweatpants I was wearing, definitely not mine as they rode a little too low on my hips. The strings must’ve come undone in my sleep as I kept shifting around. Not really thinking as I was still under the blissful grip of a good night’s sleep, I sneaked my right arm underneath the covers and gently traced the warm skin of the arm pressing against my torso. There was another low hum and I smiled as I turned my head to the left, eyes protesting as I tried to peel them open. Perhaps that can wait until my brain is fully functioning.

“Good morning.” Mingi’s voice was husky and it covered my arms in goosebumps as I felt butterflies in my stomach, the heath of my cheeks unnatural once again.

“Morning.” I whispered and bit my bottom lip, feeling the bed shift again as Mingi’s hand now held my waist firmly, fingers rubbing circles into the skin where his borrowed t-shirt had ridden up. Feeling eyes on me, I opened one eye and chuckled as I saw Mingi’s puffy face, halfway hidden into his pillow as he lay on his stomach, red lips swollen and platinum blonde hair disheveled in every possible way. Mingi’s cheeks tinged pink and he grumbled something intangible as he hid his face into the pillow, feigning a tickle at my waist as I squirmed and pushed his hand off, heartbeat picking up as Mingi caught my hand before I could pull it away and interlaced our fingers. My eyes were painfully dry but I rubbed them with the heel of my left palm, rubbing my face afterwards as the haze of sleep slowly had started dissipating.

So, turns out all of this wasn’t a dream. I did go to Outlaw to watch Mingi perform, I did get drunk and got into a tiny argument with Mingi, and he did drive me home afterwards. And apparently, I did sleep over wearing his clothes and using his toiletries and we did—we did kiss. I gulped and licked my dry lips again, feeling the butterflies dissipate in my stomach as instead a lump formed in my throat. I released a shaky breath as I felt Mingi caress my knuckles underneath the covers, and then he turned his head to look at me. He looked—content. He looked happy. His face was serene and he looked like he has been waiting for this moment for ages. Something in my chest ached at the thought and I gulped, feeling the blissful morning daze dissipate completely and get replace by a slowly impeding dread. I released a shaky sigh as a heartbreakingly beautiful smile graced Mingi’s lips, mouth forming a boxy shape that showed all of his teeth—the protruding front ones that I grew to adore—his nose wrinkling and eyes creasing. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so good anymore, I felt like I wanted to cry.

Why was Mingi so perfect? Why was he so kind to me? Why did he treat me so well? Why was he so patient with me? Why did he stick by my side for so long? What was it about me that he liked? What did Mingi want from me?

I froze as suddenly Mingi pushed up onto his elbows and started leaning over me, that smile still present on his lips as he released my hand to caress my cheek. My hands trembled as I tried to hold his eye contact, but all of a sudden I felt sick. I felt dirty and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Everything smelled like Mingi, everything felt like Mingi—it was too much. Perhaps he saw the subtle shift in my expression as he stopped for a second, eyebrows slightly furrowing, but then his warm lips touched the corner of my mouth and it made my muscles tense up and send my mind off into an alarmed frenzy.

I couldn’t be here, I had to leave. No. What was I doing? How could I do this when I knew Mingi is Yunho’s best friend? How could I hide something like that from him? Why did I let him kiss me and why did I kiss him back? Why have I—why the hell have I started liking Mingi so much that having him next to me suddenly felt right and being away from him made me anxious, made it feel so wrong?

Unable to control myself anymore, I sprung up from the bed, trying to keep my breaths labored as Mingi sat up alarmed, eyebrows furrowing as he watched me scramble around his room looking for my clothes. I couldn’t remember where he had placed them last night—whether I had left them in bathroom or had brought them to the living room. I heard the sheets crinkle as no doubt Mingi was getting out of bed too, I could feel his piercing gaze follow my every move.

“You—” He hesitated for a second, “You don’t have to leave so early—I mean, it’s not that early, but I want to make us breakfast. I promise I’m not a bad cook.”

I bit my lower lip as my eyebrows furrowed, my body freezing as my heart clenched. I wanted that, I wanted to stay with Mingi and eat breakfast and laugh and just let go of everything and forget every single one of my worries, but I couldn’t. I felt so guilty, I couldn’t even turn around and face him. I had to leave and I had to get rid of him, it would be best for the both of us.

“I’m not hungry.” My voice was barely above a whisper, cold, and distant. I finally spotted my clothes sitting neatly folded on Mingi’s desk chair and I leaped towards them, my fingers curling tightly into them as I cradled them into my arms, somehow hoping that it would bring any sort of comfort. It didn’t because I could still feel Mingi’s eyes on me and hear the way his steps faltered.

“Oh, then…” He fell silent and I felt my hands’ tremors worsen, making me bite into my bottom lip to try and keep myself level-headed. It was hard, and I was failing at it, “We could grab some coffee and—”

“I’m going home, Mingi.” I snapped, cutting off his rambling because I was unable to listen to his warm and soothing voice anymore, now laced with obvious hurt and dejection. I wasn’t only hurting myself anymore, I was hurting him too. And I hated myself. He deserved better. Mingi deserves someone who cherishes him and makes him happy, not someone who brings his hopes up and then stomps on his heart like it means nothing. I didn’t want to do this, but I felt like I had no choice. I had dug my own grave by indulging into his little games—they weren’t games, Mingi has been genuine from the get go—and now here I was, suffering the consequences of my own actions.

“I—Y/N.” I froze as my hand reached for the handle to open the door, I couldn’t face him, “What we did—what happened last night, I—no, the kiss, we can’t just glaze over it, I can’t—I can’t do that anymore. Please, what are we?”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the sudden tears in them and inhaled a long breath, slowly twisting the handle of the door so that I could flee easier, “The kiss was—a mistake. We were both caught up in our feels and I—I didn’t mean to do that. I never wanted to kiss you. I don’t—it means nothing. We are nothing, Mingi.”

If the same words echoed in my mind but sounded a lot more masculine and venomous, puppylike eyes narrowed and glaring down at me, I gulped and repressed the memory, rushing out of Mingi’s room in a panic. I didn’t want to hear the way Mingi gasped nor the way he called out in confusion after me as I made it towards the shoe rack, finding my boots placed neatly next to his. It took everything I had in me to keep it together, to swallow the tears that wanted to escape my eyes, to keep my voice firm.

“What do you mean it meant nothing?” Mingi didn’t even sound angry, he sounded so utterly hurt, that a tear unintentionally trickled down my cheek, “It couldn’t have meant nothing, Y/N, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long for it to mean nothing. You’ve—I’ve kissed you before, not like this of course, but we did kiss and we’ve held hands and you—you can’t just fucking say it means nothing when it means everything to me!”

Fuck.

Perhaps it was good that he was finally showing any other reaction than disappointment and hurt, perhaps I pitied myself less if he was angry at me and shouting—I deserved it. I really did, every mean thing he’d hurl at me, I deserved to hear them because he was right. He was, he had always been. I’m a horrible awful being and I played with his feelings just like Yunho had played with mine. How could I hate Yunho so much when I was just like him?

“We’re both honest and blunt people, Mingi, there’s no reason to dance around this.” My voice sounded leveled, calm, almost as if it was mocking Mingi’s despair and I felt like complete shit, “Quite frankly put, I don’t want to see you again. This everything—whatever the hell we’ve been doing for the past three months, it was a shitshow. I don’t know what your purpose behind your actions was but I know mine and it has nothing to do with—whatever we’ve done last night. There’s no such thing as friendship between a girl and boy, it never works out, somebody always gets heartbroken and that’s exactly what’s happening right now. I think we both mislead each other, which led to this misunderstanding, so yes, it means nothing because I don’t want anything from you, but you clearly want something I cannot give you.”

The deafening silence felt like a slap to my face and it almost made me whirl around to apologize for my harsh words, to tell him that it was all a lie, that I liked him more than who I thought was my first love. I had always thought I loved Yunho with my whole being, that I gave him all of myself, but that wasn’t true. Yunho had never seen me at my lowest, Yunho never tried to fix the issues between us, he never reached out if he knew he did something wrong, he never even tried to pursue me—it was all me, all along. I was the one fighting for us and Yunho just went along with it because it was comfortable, because I was a stable point in his chaotic life, somebody he knew he could come back to. And I was treating Mingi as if he did the same thing to me, as if he was just another replica of Yunho—when he wasn’t. Mingi was so much more than Yunho would ever be, and I ruined everything in the span of five minutes.

I didn’t even bother lacing up my boots as I stepped into them, afraid to look back, but unable to stop myself when the silence just continued to stretch on. I didn’t expect to see Mingi’s eyes bloodshot, nor his bottom lip red and swollen from getting chewed on too much. Fuck, why did my heart ache more than when Yunho left me?!

“I never wanted to be your friend, doll.” The way his tone was emotionless yet his lips uttered the nickname, it made my lungs constrict as the lump got bigger and bigger in my throat, “But I knew you needed time, so I gave it to you. Perhaps—perhaps I shouldn’t have, maybe I should have been cleared with my intentions—”

“Mingi.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as we made eye contact. I couldn’t listen to him anymore; I couldn’t bear to hear him make up excuses for the sake of me. Why was he not screaming at me, why was he not hurting me? This is why he was too good for me, why I didn’t deserve him, “Delete my number.”

“You know your way out.” And I did know it. Without saying anything else, I unlocked the front door and ripped it open, slamming it shut behind me as I raced towards the stairs, hissing as my eyes got blurry and obscured my view of where I was stepping. But I had to get out of the building as fast as possible, scared that Mingi would race after me, that he’d try to reason with me one more time because it would work. It would work and I would give in. I would tell him the truth and then everything would be more painful. I was saving him from the betrayal he didn’t deserve, I was saving him from me, who never treated him right. I thought he was an asshole, an arrogant guy who yearned for attention and validation from every breathing female. But that wasn’t true, Mingi was a selfless and hard-working man who put others above himself, he wasn’t greedy and he wore his heart on his sleeve, ready to offer all the love his body contained without expecting anything in return. And I was a horrible human being because I took advantage of his kindness and goodness, because in the process of trying to get rid of him—I fell for him.

I was gasping for air by the time I stumbled out of the building, the wind harsh and cold as I scrambled to wear my jacket over Mingi’s thin t-shirt. It did nothing to shield me from the harsh weather and perhaps I deserved it, perhaps I deserved to be stared at by the passerby people with questioning or judgmental stares. I had no idea where I was, but thankfully finding my phone in my pocket, I was able to walk myself to a bus station and wait for a bus that would take me home. Mingi lived almost thirty minutes away from my place, but that was fine, I could keep it together for so long. I wouldn’t cry, I refused to cry, this was my own punishment. As I sat on the bench at the bus station, the heather above head lessening the chill that seemed to bite at my body, I closed my eyes and wallowed in the tumultuous emotions I felt.

This was far from how I wanted things to go, I thought I was better, that I could control myself and keep everything in check, but at last, I failed. I failed and now I hurt the guy I had fallen for. I was scared, I was afraid of getting left behind like it previously had happened, and so I wanted to protect myself. I struck before he could. I thought I would be protecting my heart and getting the upper hand, but then why was my heart aching and my stomach clenching so hard that it made me feel nauseous? Why do I always mess things up when they finally go right? Can’t I have something good for myself? Is it so hard to believe that not all guys are like Yunho? But Mingi is his best friend and it started getting easy to spot similarities between them the longer I hung out with Mingi. So could he really be much different from Yunho? I wouldn’t know, now, I would never find out.

I felt numb, both physically and emotionally, by the time I made it home. The house was empty and dark, rainclouds had gathered outside and I was thankful that I made it home before the downpour. It reminded me of Mingi, everything seemed to remind me of Mingi. I hated it, it made breathing harder as I peeled his clothes off myself and went into the shower, probably staying underneath the spray of the hot water for too long. My skin was all wrinkled by the time I got out and the rain came down heavily against the roof of the house, forcing me to dress up warmly and wear the hood of my hoodie as I was too tired and lazy to dry my hair. I was craving something hot to drink, but when my eyes fell on the hot chocolate in the cupboard I suddenly felt sick to my stomach and had to rush to the bathroom, heaving and heaving without throwing up anything. I felt like I was borderline dying, and I deserved it. I knew I did.

And when I was feeling my utmost worst, there was only one thing that could help. Drawing and painting. I stared at my sketchbook longingly, but decided to use a different one as that one was filled with sketches of Mingi’s eyes, and him performing on stage, him driving or him laughing with his boxy and gummy smile, his hands that were littered with rings, his peaceful face when he had fallen asleep once in the library while we were studying. But something that hasn’t happened before did happen now. No matter how much I stared at the blank paper, nothing came to me. My mind refused to conjure up any images, my hands refused to move. My grip on the pencil turned painful and I hissed as I pushed the sketchbook off my lap, throwing the pencil against the wall in frustration. I pulled my knees up to my chest as I listened to the heavy rain, staring at the window, watching as big drops rolled down quickly. The silence, the darkness, the numbness…it was beginning to be too much. I wished to see Mingi, I wished to talk to him, I wanted to fix this, but I couldn’t. I was an asshole and going back to him just hours later after being a dick and probably hurting him beyond forgiveness was an even bigger dick move. I just couldn’t do it, so, I closed my eyes and waited. For what, I didn’t know until my phone rang loudly, making me jump out of my skin.

I was stupid for feeling a flicker of hope that it was maybe him, but my heart settled when Seulgi’s smiling face greeted me once I grabbed my phone. I sighed and picked up, beyond grateful that she probably had a feeling that things weren’t going so well anymore. I could feel the small smile stretch onto my lips, the greeting on the tip of my tongue, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“What have you done.” I froze, heart falling into my stomach at the harsh tone of my best friend, eyebrows furrowing in worry. Seulgi never spoke like that to me—to anyone—she was a ray of sunshine and she never got angry, she was never disappointed, she never treated anyone roughly, “Y/N!”

I jumped at the way she yelled my name, gulping down nothing as my mouth had gone dry, “I—nothing. I did nothing—”

“You’re full of shit.” Seulgi snapped and I felt my lips tremble as her voice raised in anger, “How can you say you did nothing when Mingi has been at Wooyoung’s ever since noon and hasn’t stopped bawling his eyes out?! He’s not speaking, he’s not eating, he’s not even moving, Y/N. What did you do?”

“I—” I gulped, voice faint as I felt my eyes fill with tears, “I didn’t mean to, I—I told him it was nothing. That I—didn’t want to see him again. I just—I’m scared, Seulgi.”

“You’re the fucking worst, Y/N.” Seulgi’s tone didn’t soften, if anything, it got harsher and I heard someone in the background call out her name in a quiet warning, “How could you say that to Mingi out of all people?! Are you seriously joking right now?! Did you feel good playing around with him when he has made it so fucking clear that he was into you? That he likes you? That he wants to be with you? You aren’t even dense not to see things like this, Y/N, you straight up played with his feelings and then crushed his heart like it meant nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, sniffing loudly as Seulgi scoffed. Hearing everything out loud and getting scolded by my best friend probably was the worst feeling ever. I knew I had fucked up colossally if she was taking Mingi’s side, rightfully so.

“I can’t believe you treated him like nothing,” A slight pause and then her voice dropped to a low whisper, “Like Yunho has treated you. You said the same thing to him, Y/N, aren’t you ashamed of yourself—”

“I fucking hate myself, Seulgi!” I exclaimed, frustrated and panicked and annoyed and wounded, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I’m scared! I can’t—what if he leaves me? What if he’s worse than Yunho’s ever been?!”

“We were teenagers back then.” Seulgi sighed and her voice softened the slightest, “And Yunho was an asshole from the very beginning, you just refused to see it. Mingi has always been genuine with you, fair, and kind. Yet you saw that and still threw him to the curb.”

“I’m sorry.” I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away, refusing to cry. I didn’t deserve to cry.

“You should be saying that to Mingi, not me.” There was light shuffling in the background and then I heard different voices talking to Seulgi, “Seonghwa is here too now, I have to go. You better fix this even though I don’t know if you deserve his forgiveness at this point.”

“Don’t say that.” I whispered, but Seulgi hung up without saying goodbye, and suddenly I didn’t know what to do anymore. The phone fell from my hand as I stared with tear filled eyes at my mother’s guitar, flashes of Mingi’s excitement upon seeing it fresh in my mind, making my throat close up. I couldn’t breathe. Mingi wasn’t talking to anyone and it was because of me, I did that. I made him feel like that and I didn’t even know how to fix this anymore. Could I fix it? Or have I fucked up so badly that he’ll never forgive me? I knew for a fact that if I were Mingi, I wouldn’t forgive myself no matter how much he would’ve begged or tried making things right. Just as my head fell onto my knees and I squeezed my eyes shut, annoyed that the unshed tears kept persisting, there was a knock on my door. I hadn’t even heard my mother get home.

She gently pushed the door open and peered inside with a curious look on her face, looking excited as I turned my head to look at her. She grinned and suddenly stepped inside, holding up a small box in excitement. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched her grab a paper out of it, giving me a cheeky smile as she cleared her throat, “‘I hope every time you drink your hot chocolate out of this mug you’ll be reminded of me, doll – S.M.’”

I suppose that was all I needed for the cup to be full, to be tipped over the edge as the tears suddenly sprung free, ripping loud sobs from my throat as I grabbed at my hair, yanking on the strands harshly. My mother gasped in fright and I heard movement behind myself, then I felt hands untangle my fingers from my hair, placing them in my lap with one hand as with her other hand she cradled my head against her chest. She smelled like the sanitizers they used at the hospitals, infused with a little musk as it was my mother’s favorite scent, and I was suddenly so grateful for having her. I turned my body to hug her tightly, crying into her chest like I was a little girl once again. My mother sighed as I felt her pat my head and rub my back up and down, humming a song I knew all too well as we used to listen to it a lot while I was growing up. The weight of her chin felt comforting against the top of my head and I gripped her work clothes perhaps a little too tight, but I didn’t care. I have missed her embrace, I missed laughing with her and crying with her, I have missed talking to her. After Yunho left me, I became closed off. I didn’t let anyone know how I felt or what I was going through, and despite my mother being a nurse, she could only help me if I let her—and I didn’t. I was repulsed by any closeness and I needed to be on my own. Days turned into months and those into years, and it took me this long to realize I wasn’t doing as well as I thought I was.

“Mom,” I was still crying, but my sobs have stopped, “I messed up so bad.”

She hummed as her fingers tried to untangle the knots in my hair, “Does it have to do anything with whom the mug is from?”

I nodded wordlessly and she hummed again, tapping my thigh for me to pull back, “Is it that tall boy with sharp eyes, cute glasses and sweet smile, fluffy dark hair?”

“He’s blonde now.” I muttered as I sniffed loudly and disgustingly as I pulled back, letting my mom wipe my tears off my face.

“You hate blonde guys, though.” She muttered with her eyebrows furrowed as I sheepishly looked up into her eyes.

“I know.”

A beat of silence passed and then she started giggling, prompting me to giggle along, my heart still aching but the relief of being in her arms made me feel like I could breathe once again, “Well, that is no good then. I hope you aren’t crying because this S.M. boy went blonde—”

“Song Mingi, his name is Song Mingi.” I whispered as I chewed on my bottom lip, averting my eyes, “I can’t believe you already forgot his name.”

“Well, I’m particularly bad with names, starlight.” My mother chuckled and I felt a smile tug at my lips. She always found peculiar nicknames to call me by, “And he never came over for dinner, that was my trick to remember his name and well—get to know him better, I suppose.”

“He’s not coming over for dinner—like ever.” My tone was grim as I grumbled, picking at my cuticle as I looked down at my lap, avoiding the look of confusion on my mother’s face.

“So, things didn’t work out…” I hummed and sighed, pulling away completely from my mother’s embrace.

“I’m a fool.” I muttered as I pulled my knees up to my chest again, staring at my socked feet. My mother placed her hand on my shoulder and massaged it softly, “I hurt him and now he hates me. I said what happened between us meant nothing, but I was lying. I think I’m in love with him, mom.”

“Has he said that he hates you?” My mother raised her eyebrows in question and I shook my head, “Then he doesn’t hate you. Yes, you hurt him with your harsh words but if you really love him—what’s holding you back, my starlight? You’re a smart woman and you know how to fix your mistakes, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you. So don’t just sulk and wail and make him hurt for no reason—”

“He’s Yunho’s best friend.” I whispered, peeking up at my mother’s face, surprised to find a smile that looked both comforting and amused.

“And does he know that?”

“What?” I asked confused, making my mother chuckle, “Of course he knows he’s Yunho’s best friend.”

“That’s not what I asked, starlight.”

“No, he doesn’t know.” I muttered and grimaced as my mother shook her head at me, “I never found the right moment to tell him, actually, things were never supposed to get this far, mom.”

“I see,” My mother hummed and leaned closer, “You know, I’m speaking based on many years of experience, but this Mingi boy doesn’t seem like the type to hold grudges for too long or judge you for your past. Sure, it must feel weird knowing your current girlfriend has dated your best friend, but that was like ages ago—and you’re still making a big deal out of it—”

“Mom.” I groaned, giving her an unimpressed look, but she only giggled.

“You know, you didn’t take after me for being so dramatic.” She pursed her lips and suddenly pushed me over, making me fall to my side with a loud gasp, “It’s one of the few reasons your father didn’t stick around for long—he was too dramatic.”

“I thought he left us.” I muttered as I sat up straight, making my mother roll her eyes at me.

“He certainly did after I told him I didn’t need a junkie in my house while I was trying to raise my child—” She rolled her eyes then stood up, extending her hand out for me, “And then he thought I tried to baby trap him—huh, what an idiot. Who wants to baby trap a broke dude who’s doing nothing with his life while I was in school learning to be a nurse and girlbossing my way through life?!”

“Don’t ever again say girlbossing, mom.” I groaned embarrassed as I let her help me up.

“What?!” She chuckled, holding my hand gently, “It’s cool, everyone at the hospital says it—well, the younger generation. Anyways, we’re going to cook yummy dinner together, and then I’ll magically make some ice cream appear from our fridge and I have some really nice wine hiding in the cupboard, waiting for us to consume it while you tell me everything about this Song Mingi guy. We haven’t had a girl’s night in so long, I missed you, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, mom, but,” I frowned as I let her pull me after herself, “you do realize I’m suffering and am on the verge of having another break down, yet you still want me to talk about Mingi?”

“It’s called therapy, honey, even if I’m not a therapist.” She shrugged as we walked down the stairs, “Besides, I’ve got some bomb advice to give you to win this boy over. I can’t believe I managed to raise a strong and independent woman that’s emotionally constipated!”

“Oh, my God.” I muttered under my breath, wondering just how many of her coworkers were too young for her to be hanging around, and why on Earth were they teaching my mother cringey slang.

But she was right. I did need her advice, desperately so, and having a girl’s night while I can talk about Mingi without feeling embarrassed to admit I am into him sounded nice—especially now that I have successfully fucked everything up.

『You run away when you just can't face it

Hide in the dark, but you know you hate it』

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delicatebarness · 8 months ago

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cry baby | chapter two

Summary: No one protects you like your big brother.

Warning: Violence. Toxic Men.

Word Count: 1774

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A/N: STEVE. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

The Friday evening sun began to dip below the horizon, a warm amber glow casting across the small town. Inside Natasha and Wanda’s apartment, you all gathered for your usual Friday night hangout. The place was buzzing with conversation and laughter about the previous week.

You were perched on the edge of your chair, fidgeting with your phone. Surprisingly, you had a change of plans for the night. Your third date with John was lined up, looking over at your two best friends, you sought their help. Whispering your plans to them so the boys couldn’t hear, you watched as their eyes lit up with excitement.

“You’re ready for the next stage?” Wanda gasped, they knew you had put yourself on the dating market but had yet to hear you speak of any of them going further than a couple of dinners and a peek.

Natasha grabbed your arm with a conspiratorial grin as she dragged you toward the bathroom. The boys, Steve, Sam, and Bucky looked up from their friendly yet competitive card game, puzzled.

“What’s happening?” Sam called out, eyebrows raised.

As you disappeared into the bathroom, Natasha called out “Girl stuff!”

The bathroom was dimly lit, crammed with every beauty and skin care product you could dream of. The girls immediately got to work, sorting through their baskets.

“Alright, legs,” Wanda said decisively, holding up a pink box of wax strips. “We’re going to make the smoothest they’ve ever been.”

You hesitated, eyeing the box with trepidation. “I’ve never used…”

Natasha waved off your concern. “It’ll be fine, trust us.”

With a nod, you agreed. Lifting your dress, you watched as Natasha warmed a strip between her hands, then pulled the scrip apart. “Ready?” she asked while pressing it firmly onto your leg. She didn’t wait for your answer.

You cried out a yelp of surprise and pain, tightening your grip on the edge of the sink, steading yourself. Within a moment, the bathroom door burst open.

“What happened?” Bucky demanded, his eyes scanning the room as he stormed in. His face was a mask of concern.

The three of you froze, staring back at him in shock. Bucky, with his leather jacket flaring and his hardened demeanor was the last person any of you expected to see in the middle of a waxing session.

It took him a minute before he realized the scene before him. His expression shifted to one of awkward embarrassment. “I, um, I thought I heard my name,” he mumbled, he tried to look anywhere but our gazes.

Wanda crossed her arms and shot him a curious look. “Really? In the middle of girl talk?”

Natasha scoffed, and you couldn’t help but let out a slight giggle despite the sting on your leg. His cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink, something you believed only you had seen before.

“Yeah, well…” he trailed off, taking a step he muttered. “Just making sure everything’s alright,”

Before he escaped, his gaze momentarily met yours. “Thank you,” you mouthed toward him, a smile tugging at your lips. He gave a small nod before fully backing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Natasha and Wanda exchanged an amused look, Natasha shaking her head. You smiled, a feeling of affection for your little group.

As you carried on preparing for your date, you felt more ready than ever.

As you finished work that afternoon, your phone buzzed with a message from John. Despite Bucky’s previous warning, you couldn’t help but feel curious about him. You found yourself agreeing to meet him that night for dinner.

The restaurant was a trending spot in the town, the ambiance was a stark contrast to the bar. Warm, inviting with soft lightening. When you arrived, you spotted John waiting for you at a table for two. Wine glasses are already filled with red wine, not a drink you would usually opt for. He greeted you with a charming smile from his seat, you noticed there was something about his demeanor that felt off.

“You look beautiful,” he commented, his eyes scanning you from head to toe in a way that reminded you of Rumlow.

“Thank you,” you replied. “You look nice too.”

While settling into the night, a soft murmur of conversations and clinking glasses created a comfortable backdrop.

“So, how was your day?” John asked, his eyes flicking around the restaurant as if he was distracted.

“It was good, busy… but good,” you replied, fidgeting with the material of your dress. “How about yours?”

“Pretty hectic,” he said, not elaborating further. “But it’s nice to unwind, I’m glad you could make it,” he smiled while reaching for his wine glass, and taking a sip.

Through a forced smile, you returned the gesture, “Me too,”

Arriving to take your orders, the waiter greeted you and asked what you’d like. Barely glancing at the menu, John ordered for both of you. “We’ll have the steak, medium-rare, and another glass of your best red wine,” he stated, handing the menus back without consulting you.

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself unable to relax. He was somewhat easy to talk to, but his stories often returned to himself and his accomplishments. He barely asked about your interests or life. When he did, his attention waned quickly.

“Tell me more about these drawings you do,” he asked while his eyes already began to wander around the room.

Excitement filled you as you smiled. “I’m working on a series of sketches. They are inspired by the city, and how I see home.”

“That’s nice,” he trailed off, cutting you off before you could explain more. “I’ve always thought ‘artists’,” he gestured air quotations while speaking. “Were a bit… dreamy, you know? Head in the clouds, not grounded in reality.”

Your smile faltered, “It’s an art… it’s about expressing a different perspective.”

“Sure,” he said dismissively. “So, it’s just a hobby then?”

You felt your heart begin to race, and your cheeks heated up. “I’m hoping to have a gallery show soon,”

He nodded absently, clearly not interested.

As the evening progressed, the conversation turned to John once again. You were told about his joys for hiking and his soft spot for action movies. However, his charm was as forced as your smile. His comments start to border condescending.

At one point, he turned the conversation toward friends and family. “Your brother and his friends seem pretty tight-knit,” he remarked.

“Yeah, we’re a family,” you replied, smiling fondly. “They’ve always looked out for me.”

“Isn’t that a bit… smothering?” he asked, a slight mocking in his tone. “Don’t you get tired of them treating you like a kid?”

Before you could try to defend your brother and friends, the door of the restaurant swung open with a forceful push. Along with the rest of the diners, your attention was pulled toward the sound.

As you turned you witnessed Steve striding in, his presence commanding as he marched into the room. Beside him, Bucky closely followed. His expression was unreadable as he positioned himself by the door.

“Steve?” you gasped as you raised from your seat in surprise at the unexpected interruption.

Ignoring you, Steve’s gaze locked onto John, recognition flickering across his eyes. There was a silent exchange passing between them.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the big brother,” John commented, his tone laced with sarcasm as he leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of wine. Steve clenched his jaw as his fists tightened at his side, glaring down John. Without a word, he strode over to your table.

Before John could react, Steve grabbed the scruff of his shirt, yanking him to his feet not giving him a chase to find his balance. John’s eyes widened as he stumbled.

“You listen to me,” Steve growled, his voice low as he held him firmly in his grip. “Stay the hell away from my sister!”

A silent battle of wills unfolded before you. You glanced over at Bucky, your eye teary from previously taking in the sight of your brother and date. Bucky met your gaze as you silently pleaded for help.

His expression softened as he recognized the distress in your eyes. Gazing over to Steve, he stepped forward, placing a hand on your brother’s shoulder.

“Let’s go, Steve,” he said quietly, his newfound calm presence amid their storm. “This isn’t the place,”

Hesitating for a moment, Steve let go of John and turned to leave. A surge of anger suddenly took over his senses as he quickly turned back to John, landing a punch squarely on his jaw. John staggered back, stunned by the blow. As Steve turned and stormed out of the restaurant, Bucky placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you out, following Steve.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for John, glancing back at him you noted his expression full of shock and anger.

As you and Steve walked into your apartment, he began pacing back and forth. His fists still clenched and his chest heaving.

“What was that, Steve?” you asked, your voice trembling as tears welled up in your eyes. “How did you even know where I was?”

He stopped pacing and turned to face you, “Nat and Wanda mentioned you had a date,” he began, his voice starting to soften yet still holding a firm undertone. “Then Bucky mentioned that you had been seeing, him.”

The tears began to stream down your cheeks as Steve’s jaw tightened, he looked away. “I don’t trust the guy,” he admitted. “I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”

“Do you not trust me to make my own decisions, anymore?” you asked, John previous words about how they treat you replayed in your mind.

Steve protected gently, “It’s not your decisions I don’t trust,” sighing, he finally sat down on your couch. “It’s his, I’m keeping you safe.”

For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of traffic, he looked back at you. His eyes filled with regret and understanding.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I’ll always want to protect you, but,” he sighed again. “I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.”

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your emotions. Moving toward the couch, you sat next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. His head came down to rest on top of yours. “Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper.

You were grateful that your brother was there for you, yet, you couldn’t help but feel guilt over someone getting hurt because of you.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x cry baby #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x sister!reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #biker!bucky #biker au

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hughiecampbelle · 11 days ago

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Essential (Will Graham Oneshot)

Character/s: Will, Hannibal mention

Word Count: 1,507

Inspired By: Siren Song by Natalie Wilson (this is one of the most beautiful songs on my playlist)

Inspired By: Okay I will never shut up about this fic (Kendall Roy x Depression!Reader) by @chaithetics - I can't praise it enough. I adore it for so many reasons and I'm incredibly grateful to have read it 💕

A/N: Ahhh okay. So. Currently it's pouring out and the rain smells wonderful and I have a candle lit and my room is (mostly) clean - will be sorting that out lol. I haven't been feeling very well mentally recently. The holidays are always hard. My step-dad said some things and it really got to me. His judgement shouldn't matter at all, but it voiced every opinion I fear. It put all my insecurities on blast and I ended up sobbing to my therapist about it. I'm trying to focus on my goals, studying for the LSATs and getting everything ready to apply to law school. Trying to focus on the new year and all the possibilities it holds. It just hurt, y'know? And I thought writing would help, plus I love Will lol. Sorry for the rant!! Not my best work, but it feels good to get it out! Feedback is always appreciated!!! ❤🥩❤

*This is not part of the writing event, this is just a silly therapy fic. I will make a proper post about it, I pinky promise!*

The sun has set. Bright, twinkling stars poke holes in the cobalt sky. It’s your favorite version. The warm lights of houses splash outward through the windows. Some are muted by curtains. Others remain unobscured. Throwing itself across the snow, butter-yellow and bleeding. The snow falls in fat, robust flakes and you hear the wind howl, picking up the longer the night goes on. Downstairs the dogs bark and whine. Pawing at the door until it creaks open, they key sticking just a little. His voice carries through the house like music, song-like, in a key you cannot name, but love nonetheless. He laughs, telling them to be quick as they scatter in the yard. You count the heartbeats until they’re back inside. Safe. He sets down his bag, hanging his coat and shaking off his boots. His glasses, you assume, are not on his face, but placed on a table. The kitchen, most likely, though if he stopped at his desk, perhaps they sit among his things. His familiarities. He works in routines, straying little, if at all. You know what he will find, picturing it from memory. The cupboards and fridge undisturbed. A single mug in the skin. Tea, coffee, something hot cooled off, frozen even, half-filled or half-empty, the decision is up to him. It’s all you could manage today. An act you talk yourself into, a feat you are not prepared for, but crave regardless. Sugar and milk. You made it last the day and yet, it remains unfinished. You hear the faucet run, the stream steady. Imagine his hands. Holding the sponge, circling the inside of the ceramic, filling and pouring until bubbles have subsided. Less severe, less violent, less and less and less. He places it on the drying rack upside down, the clink of it alongside the rest of the dishes filling you with guilt. You could have washed it. You could have unloaded the burden from him. It was your mess. Despite it, despite this grief, he will wave it off. Happy to do it, to help. Still, you might argue, and he will shrug, out of words, but not out of fight.

His footsteps patter through the first floor, pouring food into bowls, calling them each by name. Dinner is served, you think. Unzipping his bag, the sound high and sharp, retreating what he needs before you follow him to the stairs. Each step groaned quietly, as if announcing his presence in whispers. Contaninig their excitement or, perhaps, swapping secrets. Gossip. Down the hall, he makes his way towards you. His cologne, subtle, is a welcomed scent. Woodsy, earthy, like soil. Hints of tobacco. Fabric softener, too. Lavender, you think, though they are all the same. Knocking quietly at the bedroom door, lazily left ajar, before walking inside. Hey you, he says. You were right. He’s not wearing his glasses. You can see his eyes - an amalgamation of color. Blue mostly, though there are hints of green and specks of brown. Puppy dog, exceptional in conveying emotions. You search for anger in them, fury or wrath or disgust, but there is only understanding. Relief. His smile is serene and his movements gentle: placing his files full of photos and notes on the nightstand. Overflowing with gore and mutilation, there is so much work he has brought home, so much responsibility, and yet he makes time for you and your dishes. You’ve been up here all day. He says it as a statement rather than a question. You wait for reprimand, for abolishment or scolding, but his features remain soft. Were you warm enough? The blankets and duvet wrapped around you, piled atop one another. You nod, unable to find your voice. Good, he says, leaning over to kiss your forehead. He is warm despite the cold, his cheeks rosy. The bridge of his nose has two small, red marks. It must’ve been a glasses kind of day. Little time to take them off, to get up close.

He talks without expectation. About Jack and his demands. About Hannibal and his repetitive, yet fascinating, takes on the world. Undressing as he does so. You watch him unbutton his shirt, a white t-shirt bright underneath. He does not say that he went to his psychiatrist about you. What to do, how to help. Should he be doing something differently? Should he be approaching the subject with more grit, less tenderness? Pulls a sweater over his head, the navy blue one you always liked on him. Unbuckling his belt. Searching for the flannel pants he loves, the pajamas he wears as often as he can. Should he make you go to a hospital? Is that the right course of action? Dr. Lecter hushes his worries. Reminds him he is doing everything right. That this will pass, and you will find your way back to him. He knows this, he must remind himself. He will be patient. He will take care of this, of you, as long as you both need. Bev who made a funny, albeit inappropriate, joke at the crime scene. Another killer on the loose. Too early to track, to pattern match. Talk of two offenders instead of one, a duo. He climbs in beside you, his voice steady, his hands moving as he speaks. Reminiscent of a conductor with no orchestra. Caught up in the drama, the obscurity, the way the bodies were found and how they were killed, he loses himself in the anticipation - a pressure in his chest - he must get out every word before it is too late. It is only after he has finished, catching his breath, does he notice you've fallen back to sleep.

Trapped in a half-sleep, you catch parts of the truth. The bedside lamp has been turned on, the room even darker than you last saw. His side of the bed is empty. The faucet running in the bathroom. He sits, his files on his lap, string through each image and note. Smells of mint. He hums quietly to himself, a sound you have learned to cherish. The light is off. The bedroom black. He lies beside you, but he is awake. Softly, the words come out. Are you mad at me? He takes a moment, pausing, and dread begins to fill your chest. Why would I be mad at you? He asks,and then adds, Of course not. You can’t bring yourself to explain without tears welling up in your eyes, a sob trapped in your throat, so you say nothing. Because, you start, but cannot bring yourself to finish. Quickly wiping your eyes, grateful for the lack of light. Because I’m a burden, you think. Because I’m not myself. Because I ruin everything. Because you deserve better. Because, because, because. Will moves closer, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing circles into your back. You feel his knuckles across the spokes of your spine. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Another night crying. In the morning your eyes will be bloodshot, your face puffy. Another mess you’ve created that he cleans up. Finally, he whispers: I could never be mad at you. But what about-? Never. His tone, not unharsh, is serious and something about that settles your nerves. The gnawing guilt inside chews with its gums instead of its teeth. Get some sleep, okay? He squeezes you a little tighter. You fall asleep like that, intertwined.

You don’t hear him get up. You don’t feel his absence until it is too late. A note left for you, his handwriting distinct and melancholy. I made you a drink. Be careful, it’s hot. Love you - Will. The mug he washed, the one you dirtied, sits beside the paper. Steam no longer pours from the top, but the cup itself is still warm. Downstairs you hear the symphony of dogs chewing. Loudly, you note, but happily. Another chore taken care of. Softly, you sip, grateful for him. For his actions, his selflessness. Today will be a little better than the last, that you are certain of. One step at a time. Will will talk to Dr. Lecter again. He will question if he’s helping. He will fear he isn’t doing enough. The two of you wrapped up in your worries, not distinct from one another, similar words with different meanings. Am I doing enough? Am I failing them? He will be talked down, reminded that this thing, this cyclical phase, it always ends. No matter what, there is always an endpoint. He must remind himself that, he must remind you, too. The two of you journey through this not out of obligation, but of necessity. He needs you. He adores you. A world without you is not one he’d like to take part in. Where you sense burden, resentment, anger, he will meet you with generosity, with compassion and understanding. It is a surprise every time, and yet it shouldn’t be. He needs you more than words could ever describe. You can’t get rid of him that easily.

#writing #therapy fic #will graham #will graham oneshot #will graham drabble #will graham x reader #hannibal #hannibal oneshot #hannibal drabble #hannibal x reader

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 6 months ago

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Sorry - Chapter 6

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

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Series Masterlist

Jon often forgets how petty his fiance could be as he watched her force Josh to switch seats with her on the plane so she was two rows ahead of him instead of sitting next to him. Their first flight had been canceled, leaving them in the airport for an extra 5 hours. He had tried to talk to Dominique, only to be met with silence and glares. Jon sucked his teeth as Josh made eye contact with him as he made his way over to him.

“Aye it's gone be all good twin. Y’all got all week to work it out.” Jon snorted. He had peeked into her phone earlier when she was texting her mom and saw that she had asked her mom to pick her up from the airport.

“Unlikely. Moniqiue is picking her up and taking her back to Ensley.”

“Uce, that's a 12 minute drive. If you really wanna work shit out with Dom then do it. Hurry up and text Ms Mo before the flight takes off. Tell her she doesn’t need to come anymore.” Jon didn’t respond to his twin, too busy looking at Dominique and trying to think of ways to get her back to him, back with him.

“I don’t know what to do.” Jon confessed. “I know I fucked up and I apologized, but I just don’t know what else to do.” Josh sucked his teeth causing Jon to look over at him. “What?”

“You being deadass Uce? I know you not being deadass. Jon, you flew her out to Paris so you could propose in front of the Eiffel Tower because that's what she told you her ideal proposal was. Dominique is just stubborn as hell but you know what to do, Just follow your heart.”

Dominique rolled her eyes and let out a groan at all the messages her mother had sent her pertaining to her wedding. Dom had told her mom that the wedding was off but Monique Walker-Coleman did not care. She knew how her daughter was and she knew that Dominique and Jon would work it out.

She didn’t even bother responding to her mom. She took her headphones out of her carry-on and slipped them on to her head. After putting on her playlist, she closed her eyes and tried to drift off to sleep, but her mind kept going back to what Ishana had said to her.

Dom knew Ishana was right but she also knew that if the shoe was on the other foot, Ishana would have turned her own fiance every way but loose! She understood that Jon knew he fucked up and all he wanted was for Dominique to forgive him, but she was hurt. She watched, with her own two eyes as her fiance let some bitch get into his space. He let that bitch KISS him!

Dominique opened her eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm herself down, if she thought about it anymore she was gonna be put on the no fly list after she got through with Jon.

Dominique all but ran off of the plane. She could hear Jon calling after her as she grabbed her bags from baggage claim and hightailed it to where her mom was waiting for her. “Go!” She yelled once she got in her moms car , then winced as her mother narrowed her eyes. “Sorry, can you just drive please?’ Monique nodded and drove off just as Jon came sprinting out of the building.

Monique stared at her daughter, very disappointed in what she was hearing. “Yes, he fucked up.” Monique started off and Dominique smiled, finally someone was on her side. “But,” Monique said, causing Dom’s smile to fade. “You also fucked up by not letting him know how you feel about marriage before y’all even got engaged. You’re afraid to go through what me and your father went through and I don’t blame you. But you can’t let that ruin what you and Jon have. Y’all both went through some rough shit before finding each other. Don’t let your fear mess that up Dominique.”

“So what you're saying is that it’s my fault for not telling him I'm scared of being married.” Dominique scoffed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest as Monique rolled her eyes.

“Girl, you know damn well that’s not what I said.” Monique reached across the table and gently grasped her daughter's hand, squeezing it. “I don’t want you to be like me, Meeks. Don’t blow this situation out of proportion. You and him messed up and you and him need to sit down and talk to each other, without screaming.” Monique said, pointing an accusatory finger at her daughter. “You nicely tell him how you feel, not just about the situation but marriage as a whole and you listen to what he has to say.”

Dominique stayed out with her mother as late as she could. It was nearing 4 pm when she finally made it home and normally she would have gone in the house and started on dinner but she was still pissed off with him, she didn’t care if he ever ate again.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she walked in the house, taking a note of the silence, which was very unusual in their house. She walked into the kitchen and jumped when she saw him sitting there, nursing a bottle of beer. She let out a sigh when she saw two empty bottles in the recycling bin.

“Didn’t think I was gonna see you tonight.” He said in greeting and Dominique ignored him, walking over to the counter and shuffling through the bills that had accumulated while they were on the road. She noticed that his keys were thrown on the counter and not on the hook by the garage door.

“I hope you decided to drink those after you went wherever you needed to go.” She muttered, flickering her eyes up to his. “You can’t afford another DUI.” That was a low blow. Jon chuckled and picked at the label.

“That was uncalled for.” He muttered, his voice laced with hurt. “You ain’t have to say that Dom.” He let out a scoff when she shrugged.

“What you did was uncalled for too.”

“Now you just being childish and petty, Dominique.”

“Hmm.” She hummed and placed the bills back down on the counter. “I’m going to take a shower.” She said, huffing as she heard him following after her. “Stop following me Jon.”

“I just wanna talk to you.” He pleaded as he followed her up the steps and into their bedroom. She sighed and walked into their closet to get her some nightclothes ready.

“I am talking to you Jonathan.” She called out from the closet.

"Dom, please." He pleaded, taking his hair out of the ponytail and running his fingers through it. "I just want to talk to you”

“Jonathan, we can talk in the morning. I just want to shower. “ He sucked his teeth and watched as she disappeared into the bathroom. He sighed and stood up to follow her in the bathroom.

"Okay I'll talk you listen." He sat on the toilet lid and she glared at him.

"Jon can you just - " She started but he cut her off.

"I fucked up and I'm sorry." He said and he rubbed his hand down his face. "I didn't know she was gonna do what she did, Dom. I-" He stopped and shrugged. "I don't know you told me to go find someone else and I was pissed but my intentions weren't to disrespect you." She rolled her eyes and rested her but against the sink so she was facing him.

"I obviously didn't really mean it, Jonanthan!" She cocked her eyebrow at him. Was he serious? So now all of a sudden he wants to do everything she said. If she said jump would he say how high?

"I know that Dominique, I was drunk and upset. Like I Just said it wasn't my intentions."

"So what were your 'intentions'?" She said using air quotes.

"I don't know Dominique." He stressed. She was making this more difficult than it needed to be. Why couldn't she just accept his apology. "All I know is that you pissed me off." She scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"So that's what I had to look forward to if we got married? You letting different women in your space when I piss you off?" He groaned.

"Of course not Dom.-" She cut him off .

"What if it was me, Jon?" He raised his head from his hands and looked at her.

"What?"

"What if it was me? What if you saw me with another dude all over me in the club and I didn't push him away? Would you forgive me right away?" He clenched his fist at the thought of another man even touching her. “You already was pissed off because you seen me with Randy.”

"I'm not the only one at fault here Dominique." He deflected and she let out a huff and crossed her arms. "9 months of you pushing me away everytime I ask about the wedding, our wedding. Everytime I bring it up you either start an argument or walk away." He said, standing up from the toilet and walking closer to her. She averted her gaze, looking at the wall behind his head. He was right, he wasn't the only one at fault but he played a bigger role in this problem than she did.

She could be woman enough to admit that all of their other arguments were petty and childish and all her fault but this was entirely on him.

"Okay but I didn't let some guy kiss me." He restrained himself from rolling his eyes. She wasn't going to let that go any time soon.

"And I apologized for that and already told you that I didn't know she was going to do that."

"That doesn't make it okay Jon!" She yelled looking at him again. "None of this is okay! I'm allowed to have reservations about the wedding! I'm allowed to not be sure about certain shit Jonathan!" She was trying her hardest not to cry.

"So you're not certain about us?"

"That's not what I'm saying."

"So what are you saying Dominique?"

She stared at him. She wasn't sure what she meant by that. She was certain that she wanted to be with him, but she wasn't certain that she wanted to get married to him.

"I don't know." She mumbled, looking down at her feet. He scoffed.

"You know what." He let out a humorless chuckle. "Maybe we should just you know." He made a break apart motion with his hands. "If this wasn't what you wanted." He motioned between the two of them. "You shouldn't have accepted my proposal." He said turning around and walking back into their shared room.

Dominique stared after him in shock. That wasn't how she thought the conversation was going to go. She didn't expect him to walk out. She walked into the bedroom to see him packing an overnight bag.

"I'm going to stay at my moms." He said not sparing her a glance as he walked out of the room. She followed behind him wanting to tell him not to go and that she did want to be with him but something in her wasn't letting her.

He left the house slamming the door and let out a frustrated scream once he was in his truck.

HEYY Y'ALL... Sorry about the wait.

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@almondmilkdeinker11 @girlwhogaf @alyyaanna @paigereeder @amandairene

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@shayaaaaaaa @bebesobrielo

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE! STAY SAFE

#jimmy uso fanfiction #wwe jimmy uso #jimmy uso x fem reader #jimmy uso x black reader #jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso x you #jimmy uso x oc #jimmy uso fiction #jimmy uso #wwe fanfiction #wwe x black reader #wwe x fem reader #wwe x oc #wwe x y/n #wwe x reader #wwe x you #black fanfic writer

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evillemons · 5 months ago

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heyy! i hope you’re doing well :) i was wondering what do you think bts would be like courting someone? e.g making CDs, or writing love letters or giving just cute simple dates. more romantic gestures or more simpler / practical ones?

and how long do you think they would court someone until they give up💀(if they do lmao). also i love ur writing :)) 🧡💜

Hello! I am doing excellent, thank you. And I'm glad to hear you enjoy my writing! I often get demotivated, but knowing that there are people out there who actually read my content makes me want to keep going :) Here is my take on this prompt:

How BTS would court someone

V - It would take Tae quite a while to develop feelings for someone that are beyond surface level (and I don't think he would approach someone unless he feels a strong emotional pull towards them). However, the hopeless romantic that he is, he would be relentless when it comes to winning over his crush's affection. He would definitely be the type to deliver flowers to her work or home on the regular (by hand), or show up at her house spontaneously to ask for an impromptu date. He might also try to impress her with his creative side by taking her to a pottery/painting class or playing his beloved saxophone for her. While I think he would be relatively persistent and not be quick to give up, he might lose interest or motivation if she does not reciprocate after a while.

Jungkook - It wouldn't take much to fall for Jungkook for most people (because look at him) but I have a feeling he will end up falling for a girl one day that is completely uninterested in him and his fame. In this case, he would become completely tunnel-visioned towards winning her over. All the romantic gestures - offering to take her on fancy dinner dates, inviting her to watch rehearsals/shows backstage, driving around the city in his Mercedes, buying her a pair of luxury shoes - anything flashy to impress her. I think he would be so blinded by the fact that that he likes someone so much and be inclined to skip the "get to know you phase" completely. I don't think he would be unreceptive to feedback, though; if he senses that she's uncomfortable, he'd probably back off a little and take things slower.

RM - Namjoon wouldn't be very likely to court someone "officially", as he would prefer to observe and learn first. He would start by getting to know her very slowly and gradually, maybe slipping out a witty compliment or two to peak her interest. When he's ready to pursue a relationship, he might gift her something small but thoughtful like a plushie that she admired in a store alongside a handwritten note, or a delicately selected music playlist based on her tastes (I truly see gift giving being his love language). If she's an intellectual, he would want to impress her by reading up on a topic she's interested in or by having a deep conversation. He definitely would not go overboard in fear of scaring her away or making her uncomfortable. He also would disengage immediately if she gave him the slightest hint that she wasn't interested, not because he gave up, but because he's a gentleman who respects people's boundaries.

SUGA - Not much of a courter at all. It's much more likely that someone would approach him first, or that a long-term friendship would evolve into a relationship gradually. His version of courting someone, however, would be getting to know all the little things about them, discovering their interests (especially their music taste), and figuring out what makes them happy. This would be all be done quietly, and then shown in subtle ways like making a playlist he thought she would like or joining her in an activity she enjoys (that he may not necessarily care for otherwise). It would be an organic process with someone he has a natural connection with, so there wouldn't really be an opportunity for "giving up"; it would just naturally fizzle out if it didn't work.

Jin - As I've mentioned many times, Jin is a major introvert and doesn't like to expend too much of his energy on other people. However, I don't think he would be lazy when it comes to someone he likes. Like many of the other boys, flowers would be a go to, but likely shipped to her rather than hand delivered because he would get too shy to do it himself. Courting would be a rather slow process, with interactions being more "formal" in the early days, and there would be absolutely no physical touch until the relationship is official. Outings would be traditional and romantic - dinner dates, walks along the river, a drive-in movie theater. If he's really brave he might hold her hand. I actually do think Jin would be very determined when courting someone because he does like to hold that traditional "masculine" role.

j-hope - Hobi would hardly need to go out of his way to peak someone's interest, as his naturally vibrant and positive energy would make anyone fall for him. He's also quite attentive and considerate towards the people he cares about, so I think this would be magnified x10 when he's interested in someone romantically. He might bring her flowers if he's feeling extra romantic, but his displays of affection would mostly be via acts of service like bringing her lunch at work or offering to run errands with her. Although Hoseok is the bougie king himself, he would offer more casual dates like a picnic at the park or a local fair or couples class. I actually do see him being relatively determined in courting her - he would be consistent in trying to talk to her on the daily/asking her on weekly dates. And it's not because he's trying too hard, that's just how he is.

Jimin - Jimin would be the sweetest man alive when he's smitten. He is visibly loving and affectionate, so it wouldn't be difficult to tell when he's interested in someone. He would use a combination of light physical touch, teasing, compliments, lighthearted dates, and maybe small gifts, to woo her. I see Jimin being the type to want to go above and beyond and put maximum effort into showing someone that he likes them, but I also think he would be aware that it might come across as overbearing. He would start with something small, like giving her a bouquet of flowers with a note asking her on a date, and then following her lead based on what she likes from there (by possibly straight up asking what she would like him to do). Jimin is persistent in the sense that he would not give up easily even if one of his plans doesn't go well, but only up to a point where she is comfortable and receptive.

#bts #bts imagines #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts rm #bts jin #bts suga #bts j hope #bts jimin #bts v #bts jungkook

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smoooothoperator · 11 months ago

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untouchable

13: Little Life

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: a lot of fluff

a/n: any guesses of what was the gifts Lando gave her?? just a miracle I had any ideas of what to write bc i'm sick lol :)

Masterlist

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Never in my life I imagined I would be that nervous. I wasn't nervous during my graduation from college, nor during my job interview where I had to translate a really complicated text. I was nervous the last time I had to face my ex, that man that tried to force me on my birthday. But it wasn't the same nervous feeling as the one I have right now.

Waking up on Christmas Day felt different. As a kid, the first thing you do is run out of bed and go to the living room to open all the gifts under the tree.

But now, waking up next to him, felt different. Today I was going to his parents house, with gifts for them in our hands.

“Morning” he whispered, burying his face in the space between my neck and shoulder, pressing a soft kiss in my skin. “Merry Christmas”

“Merry Christmas” I smiled, moving closer to him. “I have a present for you”

“I have one for you too” he whispered. “I left it under the tree”

I giggled softly and looked at him, cupping his cheek with my hand and kissing his lips softly.

“You are the first guy that slept in this bed” I confessed. “I never imagined I would say something like that to you”

“Why?” he smiled weakly, brushing the hair out of my face.

“Well… As you may remember, I moved to this apartment a year ago, after the incident…” I sighed. “And since that I never felt comfortable around anyone except for Harry”

“Owen…” he sighed and somehow I flinched after hearing his name after a long time, making him wrap his arms around me tighter. “Look, I know sleeping in the same bed as someone else is already hard. But… I just don't want to force you, okay?”

“I mean… I already gave you head, silly” I whisper. “I feel really comfortable with you, I swear”

“I'm glad to hear that” he smiled, kissing my forehead. “Just know that I would never ever force myself into you. Never”

I looked up at him and smiled, pecking his lips softly. I just wanted to show him how much he means everything he's doing for me, how grateful I feel for the love he gives me, and how easy he makes me to love him.

“Let's go open the presents” I whisper, sitting on the bed and stretching my arms, feeling his hand running all over my back.

I smiled and looked at him, kissing him again and again before getting up. I put on my joggers and his hoodie and tied up my hair in a messy bun, waiting for him to get out of the bed.

This felt good. Sleeping with him felt good, having breakfast together felt good. Somehow, being with him all the time felt good, and I don't want to complain about it.

We sat in front of the tree, looking at the bags. Max and Pietra left their gifts for us there, so there were three presents for each one.

“Open mine the last” he said, making me look at him and frown. “Come on! Trust me!”

I sigh and smile softly, leaving the bag with his name next to me and opening the other two with Max's and Pietra's names on it. Pietra gifted me a book nook to put on my shelves and a bag, Max gifted me a reading journal and a book I was looking after about legends and myths.

“Am I that obvious?” I laughed looking at the presents.

“I think your collection of one specific book and your office are a clear example that you love books” he smiled.

“Harry hated that I spent money on buying books” I sighed. “He always said that I should buy something like a Kindle to carry it with me”

“You know the answer to what I think about him” he sighed. “He always said shit like that to everyone, saying that he doesn't spend much money, that he only buys what he thinks he needs. At this point I think he's a narcissist and an egoist, always talking about himself and how good he does things”

I smiled weakly and nodded. I didn't tell him that I saw him yesterday while doing groceries. And I think I won't tell him, yet

“Open mine” he smiled excitedly, looking at me.

“What, you want me to say that it's the best gift?” I smirked looking at him, watching how he was looking at me with happiness in his eyes.

“Oh, I think I know it will be the best one” he joked. “And I have to admit that it's has its merit because I had the idea for it yesterday”

I look at him and shake my head, smiling while I open the bag. There was an envelope and something more wrapped with paper.

“Open the wrapped one” he said, resting his head on his hand.

I frown and grab it, shaking it a little. It sounded exactly like the box of a videogame. I looked at him and rolled my eyes playfully when he wiggled his eyebrows, making me chuckle softly. I tears off the paper, laughing when I saw two blue boxes of a videogame for the PlayStation.

“What? What is this?” I frown looking at the two games. “Assassin's Creed Origins and Odyssey… Oh! Are those games about Greece and Egypt?”

“Correct” he nodded. “Open the Origins one”

I looked at him and smiled, watching that the box didn't have the security plastic. I bite my lip and open it, frowning when I didn't see the CD of the game itself but a few papers folded.

“What…?” I frown, unfolding the papers and gasping when I read what was on them. “No way. Lando! Are you crazy?!”

“Now open the Odyssey one” he chuckled, excited to see my reaction.

“You are insane” I mumbled, opening the other box and finding the same things I saw in the other one. “Lando…”

“I have a lot of free time” he said, grabbing the envelope and placing it in my hand. “And you will too, because I know you can work at distance, that you can translate things without going to the museum because that's what you did while we were on the snow trip”

“But Lando, this… God, this is too much” I said looking at the papers, smiling weakly when I read what was inside the envelope.

“I made you smile, that's the most important thing, Violet” he smiled holding my hand.

“You are crazy” I smile softly, feeling tears in my eyes. “God, you are making me cry! This… this touched me a lot. No one did something like this for me”

“I hope you are crying of happiness” he said, pulling me to him, bringing me to his lap and wrapping his arms around me. “I will do anything to make you happy, Violet. I swear. The money is not important at all, I have enough of it, it's not a problem”

“But my gift is really insignificant compared to this” I sighed.

“I don't care” he whispered. “Besides, this is something I will enjoy too and you will help me enjoy it more”

I smile and kiss his cheek softly, peppering kisses over his jaw and cheek until I touch his lips. The last few days I discovered myself longing for his kisses, to have his lips pressed on my, to feel his lips peppering kisses over my cheek, forehead, shoulder or temple. Kissing him is like a new drug I never want to leave.

“You are amazing” I whisper against his lips.

“I'm just trying to be enough for you” he said. “To be what you deserve”

“You are enough” I whisper.

He smiled and broke the kiss, kissing the tip of my nose before grabbing the bag with the gift I made for him. He opened and smiled, looking at the two boxes inside of it.

“Oh! You noticed” he smiled when he saw the box with his favorite perfume.

“You left the bottle in my room this morning” I said. “I saw that it barely had liquid so I just wanted to get you a new one. And I love the smell of this perfume. I love smelling my this scent in the pillow when you leave, or bury my nose in the neck of this hoodie and smell you”

“Thank you” he smiled, kissing my cheek softly. He opened the other box and smiled, looking at the necklace on it. “At this point I'll only have jewelry you gifted me”

“I would gladly do that” I chuckled. “Do you use rings?”

“I mean… Not all the time” he smiled. “I forget to put them back once I take them off”

“Mhm” I nodded, biting my lip. “Okay”

“Why?”

“Oh, just wondering” I smiled.

We stayed like this for a while, in each other's embrace sitting on the floor, surrounded by presents and broken papers. His hands placed on my back held me tight to him, his thumbs drawing abstract figures over my skin made me relax, his chin resting on the crook of my neck with his breathing in my skin, were the best thing I could feel.

Until now, I never realized that with him I felt safe. Not only now that I'm giving up and letting my walls down for him and that I can finally see how things truly are since I knew how Harry was, but since the first time I saw him. He always looked at me with a soft gaze that now made me regret thinking all those things about him just because Harry said that he was bad news. He always took care of me from the distance, giving me reasons to smile only by sending me books or gifts. He always asked me how I was doing even if he knew that I didn't want to be around him. He was always there for me even if I never noticed.

“Let's make breakfast” I whisper, rubbing his back.

“Okay”

I got up, immediately missing his warmth, and walked to the kitchen to make us something for breakfast. He followed me like a lost puppy, helping me with everything and trying to steal moments to hug me while the pancakes were on the pan.

“You are so clingy” I whispered, placing my free hand on top of his.

“You never complained” he laughed, kissing my cheek.

“And I'll never do it”

Having him here felt good. Being this domestic with bim felt good. Being with him feels good.

We had breakfast in silence, reading things on our phones, showing memes to each other. And the moment I washed the dishes, my mind realized that the next place I will go is to his parents house. And somehow, I started to panic.

“Lando?” I called him.

“Yeah?” he smiled walking towards me. “Hey, you okay?”

“I… I'm going to your parents house” I said looking at him. “Like… I mean, I know them. I met them during your races and that. But… this is a completely different situation! I'm going there for Christmas”

“Yeah, so what?” he frowned, confused.

“You are bringing a girl!” I said. “A-and, well…”

“We're a soon to be couple, right?” he said, holding my hands. “It's completely fine, I promise. They knew about my feelings towards you, and somehow I told them that we have been working on it since the ski trip. It's okay, Violet. Really. Don't worry about it”

“But then I have to make a good impression, Lando” I said. “Like… What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm not enough?”

“Hey” he smiled, cupping my cheeks. “They love you, yeah? Everything will be okay. Take a deep breath”

I sigh and nod, looking at him. In my previous relationships, meeting the parents was hard. They all had something bad to say about me: I wasn't as skinny as they would have liked, his ex was better, I don't have enough status for him. I know Lando's parents, I met them a few times as well as his siblings, but somehow it didn't feel the same as now meeting them as someone that is more than a friend for Lando. What am I supposed to answer when they ask what we are? We're not a couple, I don't want to rush things. We are friends, yeah, but friends that sleep together in the same bed and act like a couple all the hours of the day.

“It will be okay” he said, kissing my forehead. “And now, go get dressed”

I sighed and nodded, going to my bedroom followed by him and we got changed. I felt his eyes on my back while I took off my clothes, making me blush. He never saw me fully naked, only in a bikini, neither that last day in the snow when we thought we were going to have sex.

“I'll turn around if you feel uncomfortable” Lando said when he saw I stopped undressing myself.

“Stop being perfect” I joked when his back was facing me, throwing him the shirt I was wearing, actually his shirt. “You can look”

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Violet” he said.

I smiled and walked towards him, hugging him. I pressed my body into his back, my hands on his abdomen. I trust him, I really do.

And I love him for that.

I felt him take a deep breath when he noticed that I wasn't wearing a bra and kissed his shoulder. He relaxed in my arms, letting out the breath he was holding.

“I know I'm not perfect” I whispered. “That I don't go to the gym and have a healthy diet, that I'm not fit like a model. I know that I don't have a body worthy of a fashion show. But I am how I am”

“Don't change” he said. “Never change. I love you how you are. You are perfect, Violet. I don't care if you are not a model. In my eyes, you are a goddess, can't you see?”

I smile and unwrap my arms from his body, letting him turn around and not caring when his eyes look at my body, scanning every curve of my anatomy.

“You are perfect” he smiled, placing his hands on my waist and pulling me closer to him.

I smile and wrap my arms around his neck, closing my eyes and letting him hold me. I know this is not the moment, this is not the time to have our first time, but the fact that I took a step forward to start this relationship, made me happy.

“You are my favorite person, Violet” he whispered.

“And you are mine” I whisper back.

And somehow, that felt like saying that I love him.

Going to my parents house was a road trip of two hours and a half. Two hours of driving my car with Violet next to me, letting me hold her hand or place my hand on her thigh.

Taking her to my parents house was something I always wanted to do. They knew about my feelings for her since the moment I realized I had them, and now that she is finally with me, I just wanted to introduce her to them.

We are not a couple yet, and I don't know when I will ask her to be mine. But what we have right now is perfect, I don't need anything else.

The present I gave her was something I knew she would love. She only travels when she's invited to our trips, she always said that it's her first time in a place when we arrive there. And I wanted to change it. I want to show her the world, to make her see in real life all the art she studies, to let her see in real life that thing she only sees in museums or on the internet.

“What did you buy for your family?” she asked me.

“Correct, we bought” I smirked “For my parents and Savannah and Oliver, one of those SmartBox for a spa weekend. For my younger sister a set of jewelry and for my sister Flo a new helmet that will have the same design of the one I'll have next year”

“Oh! That's nice!” she smiled. “I bought Athena and Mila some things from the store of the museum like a book with drawings of the paintings and then some little toys for them”

“See? You do the job of auntie pretty well, hm?” I joked, making her doll her eyes and laugh softly. “I'm serious!”

“You are lucky I love Mila and Athena” she said, and somehow when she started talking I had a little heart attack.

I told her that I love her, I never stop telling her. And it's not that I want to hear it immediately, but the way she acts around me makes me think that she in fact has those type of feelings for me.

But… is this fair? I planned everything, I wanted to confess my feelings during the trip, but I never expected it to turn out the way it did. I never expected it to work, to have her with me in my car or sleep with her in her bed, to kiss her whenever I wanted and hold her in my arms. Somehow, this felt like a dream. Too good to be true. But if this was a dream I don't want to wake up, never.

When I parked the car next to my brother's I looked at her, holding her hand.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Yeah… I think so, yeah” she nodded. “Do they know that I'm going?”

“Oh yeah” I nodded. “My mom even made your favorite dish”

“Really? No way!” she gasped.

I chuckled and nodded, opening the door and going to the back of her car to grab the bags of the presents. She helped me, holding the smaller bags with one hand.

“Let's go” I smiled, kissing her temple.

She was perfect. The moment we walked inside the house and she took a deep breath, I could feel how she immediately relaxed. My mother welcomed us, and the moment she saw Violet next to me, her smile grew wider.

“Oh, Violet! It's so nice to see you” she smiled, hugging her, winking at me.

“Merry Christmas” she smiled, hugging her back.

I walked towards them and smiled, watching how my mom unwrapped her arms from Violet and imme hugged me.

“You deserve this” she whispered. “My good boy”

I chuckled softly and kissed her cheek, hugging her tightly. My sisters and dad came towards us and we all went to the living room, where my brother was already with his wife and his kids.

“Oh, hey!” Oliver smiled, standing up with Athena in his arms.

“Baby Athena!” I heard Violet giggle, talking with the high pitched voice she always used when she was around my nieces. “Hello, baby girl!”

I smiled when Oliver looked at me surprised, letting Violet hold his younger daughter. I smile hugging him, patting his back and pulling away just to look at Violet holding Athena close to her.

God, is it too soon to talk about babies? It is, right?

My family welcomed her as she has been here since forever, and I was so grateful for that. My sisters included her in their conversations, even my mom let her help clean the dishes instead of making her stay sitting like she was a special guest. And watching her getting involved with them, filing and talking with them, made me fall even harder for her.

“I really think she's the one” I told Oliver, sitting on the couch, watching how Violet played with Mila and Athena. “Every fight and argument with Harry were worth it. I fought for her”

“And I'm so proud of you for never giving up on her” he smiled. “When are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?”

“O-oh, well…” I smile, biting my lip, grabbing my phone and showing him my screen. “I kinda have it planned”

“Of course you do” he laughed softly, hitting my arm.

I smiled looking again at Violet, getting up and walking towards her when she smiled at me, sitting on the floor next to her and playing with Mila.

She's the love of my life. I would do anything to make her happy.

We spent the rest of the day with his family, and it felt good, amazing. The way they welcomed me and never judged me was so heartwhelming.

Athena and Mila insisted on being around me. The older little girl held my hand all the time, leading me wherever she wanted to go with her, showing me all her toys and books her parents brought, making me sit on the floor with her between my legs.

I liked this. I liked being treated this way, like another one of the family.

Lando's sisters talked with me like we were friends. Savannah trusted me enough to hold her daughters and have her younger one sleeping in my arms. Lando's mom asked about my work and studies like a mother, getting interested in whatever I said. Even his dad and brother got in the conversation, asking about my job in the museum and when they can go to visit me.

Is this how it feels being in a healthy family? One that doesn’t judge you, that thinks they know what's better for you?

“Well, I think we should go back to London” Lando said, looking at his wrist watch, stretching his arms and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Oh! Why don't you stay the night?” his mom said with a big smile, clapping her hands happily. “In that way you two can rest and go back there in the morning”

“Mom, she has to work tomorrow…” he smiled weakly looking at me.

“It's okay” I said smiling, placing my hand on Lando's knee. “We can stay”

“Are you sure?” he whispered looking at me.

“Mhm, yeah” I smiled, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Okay, then” his mom smiled. “Lando's room is clean and the bed is made too. You can sleep there”

I smile and nod, leaning on him and wrapping my arm around his torso. I relaxed in his arms, taking a deep breath and looking at the fire dancing in the fireplace. His fingers played with my hair softly, making me cuddle him and rest my head on his chest.

“Do you want to go to bed?” he whispered, kissing the top of my head and I nodded my head.

He got up and held my hand, pulling me to him. We hugged his parents and siblings good night and then walked towards his room.

“This is my childhood room” he laughed softly. “Obviously reformed”

I chuckled and looked around while he grabbed a shirt for me to sleep on it. He walked towards me, wrapping his arms around my abdomen, pulling me close to him.

“Today was perfect” I smiled, turning around to wrap my arms around his neck. “Thank you”

“I’m glad” he whispered, leaning closer to mez resting his forehead against mine. “Because this, Violet…This is what I want for you, for us. A healthy environment, a healthy family. People that support you and won't judge you”

I smiled and nodded, kissing him softly, holding him tightly against me. We got undressed slowly, taking off our clothes and leaving them on the floor, not wanting to pull away.

“I don't think it's a good idea doing this with my parents around” he whispered, taking a deep breath when we stood naked in the middle of his room, only wearing underwear.

“Then we won't do it” I whisper. “But we can just get in the bed, feel each other's body and kiss, right?”

“Oh yeah, please” he chuckled, jumping on the bed and opening his arms for me. “Come here”

“Silly” I chuckled, crawling towards him and kissing his lips, feeling his hands over my body and pulling me close to him.

violetsinclair

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, savnorris and 698 others

violetsinclair I think I like this little life🧡

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pietra.pilao that little life suits you very well

violetsinclair I think so, yeah🥰🧡

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, oscarpiastri and 258.735 others

landonorris This little life

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maxfewtrell I think Athena has a new favorite person

landonorris for once I don't mind

oscarpiastri when are you bringing her to the garage?👀

landonorris who? Athena? She's too young for that😌

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gothcsz · 6 months ago

Text

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XVI.

GIF by javier-pena

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Who doesn't fuck on the first date?

WORD COUNT: ~15.8k (sorry not sorry; I had a lot to say)

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: smut, making out, a lot of hair pulling bc it's my kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, a soft and nervous!javi, but also authoritative!javi, half assed and lightly researched stargazing, gun mention, very brief crime/medical talk, if there's typos/grammatical errors just pretend that there's not, other things that i'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: yeah this one's a long one everyone but idgaf i was twirling my hair and blushing the entire time i wrote this!! we all know what we've gotten ourselves into, okay?!?! mwah love you all hope you enjoy. BON APÉTIT!! <3 as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3 [ song inspooo ]

♰ read on ao3. ♰

♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Paloma’s nails drum restlessly against the wooden armrest of the chair, each tap echoing her impatience. The stale air is stifling, saturated with the antiseptic scent that clings to this place. She bites her lip, eyes darting to the mirrored wall where she knows her father stands unseen, observing.

It’s not like she’s in trouble or anything— just standard procedure to get her statement from the other night.

Thankfully, nothing else happened after she’d been dropped off at home. She staked out at the window in her bedroom until the deputy assigned to keep watch arrived. Only then did she scrub off all the blood and dirt in the shower, locking herself in her room and clutching the plush snake Javi had won for her at the fair to her chest until she eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

It’s been three days since the incident and she’s barely seen her father or Javier. They’ve had their hands full dealing with the girl at the hospital and managing the newfound attention gained from the attack.

The larger towns in the surrounding areas are getting curious about what’s happening in this remote corner of Texas.

The sheriff had been very adamant about not conducting her questioning himself. “It wouldn’t be right,” he had said, “Conflict of interest.” Instead, he sent in Javier. As if that was any better.

The door opens with a creak and he steps in, his uniformed presence both familiar and attractively official… it has her squirming in her seat. His dark eyes meet hers for a brief, charged moment before he breaks the gaze, closing the door behind him.

They have to act professional, hiding the fact that they were together when she found the girl. But damn, has she missed him and has he missed her. It’s only been three days.

“Miss Leighton,” He greets, his voice monotonous, but she can hear the undercurrent of tenderness, how he naturally reacts to her. He takes a seat at the opposite side of the table, setting a folder between them. “Thanks for comin’ in. Just need to ask you a few questions about what happened on the night of the fourth.”

She nods, fingers twisting together in her lap. “S’no problem. I just wanna help as best as I can.”

He clears his throat, opening the folder and pulling out a sheet of paper, glancing briefly at the mirror before continuing. “Start from the beginning. What were you doing out there?”

“I was out for a walk,” she begins, telling him something he already knows. “Needed a break from all the noise of the party. That’s when I heard somethin’— wheezin’ and groanin’ comin’ from behind a tree.”

He scribbles lazily on the paper, his face impassive. Anything to keep up appearances. “What did you do after that?”

“I walked towards the sound,” her voice trembles slightly at the memory, and this has her father huffing from the other side of the mirror. “That’s when I saw her lyin’ there on the ground. She was... she was hurt real bad.”

“Was anyone else there when you found her?”

Her heart stutters. “No. I didn’t see anyone else,” it’s not a lie, technically.

Her eyes fall down to his fingers as he writes. The slight tension in his knuckles and rhythmic flexing of his tendons, veins that prominently run along the back of his hand, the subtle grip he has on the pen. Paloma knows this isn’t the time to get all worked up, yet she can’t help it. He makes the simplest things look so irresistibly attractive.

“And then you called for help?” he snaps her out of the trancelike state she’d honed in on while watching him write. His lips twitch as he suppresses a smirk at the sight of the faint flush over her cheeks.

She clears her throat before answering, “Yes, I sought out the deputy sheriff for help.” Paloma doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the feeling of warm blood coating her fingers as she desperately tried to put pressure on the girl’s wounds. “I tried to keep her awake, to talk to her, but she was barely conscious. She just... she looked so scared. I ain’t ever seen anythin’ like it.”

Her father’s stare is heavy and so damn palpable. Watching every move, listening to every word. This situation is as difficult for him as it is for her.

Javier nods, remaining professional, making a final note before pulling out another few sheets of lined papers and sliding them over to her, along with his pen. “Thank you, Miss. Leighton. You’ve been very helpful. If you could just write everything in your own words, that’d be great. No detail is too small.”

Every time he addresses her as Miss Leighton in that authoritative tone of his, it makes her feel coy despite her thoughts being anything but bashful. “Okay… Is that all?” She reaches for the materials, clicking the pen and beginning to write down her recollections.

“For now,” he stands, “But we might have more questions later.”

As he walks towards the door, she lets her eyes rake over the expanse of his back, the uniform shirt shifting with each movement and clinging to his figure. It pulls taut at his shoulders and she wants to reach out and touch him, to find solace in his presence, ask for an update on the girl. But the current audience doesn’t allow for that, so she’ll just have to wait until they’re alone again.

He turns and gives her a brief, reassuring smile before exiting the room, leaving her flustered by doing absolutely nothing.

“Followin’ noises out in the middle of the woods, the hell is wrong with her.” Is what Javi is greeted to once he joins the sheriff on the other side of the mirror. The older man looks exasperated by his daughter’s sparse testimony.

“Out there all by herself. Can’t ever just stay put. Had she been there at the wrong time, had somethin’ happened to her...” his hands curl into fists, and Javier decides to interject before he gets too worked up and blows up on her in front of the entire department.

“But nothing did, and now we’ve got a survivor who potentially saw the assailant and can give us something to go off of.”

Romeo exhales heavily, running his hand down his face then rubbing his jaw. “S’just so damn hard for me not to get like this when she’s involved. M’already stressin’ ‘bout this girl not wakin’ up and all the other shit… ‘n now she’s caught up in it. I feel like this damn thing is gonna be the death’a me.”

Javi’s eyes flicker over to her. She sits focused on writing her statement, long hair tucked behind her ear, unaware of how she’s driving her dad up the fucking wall.

“Her statement isn’t of much use, anyway. She didn’t see anything helpful, so there’s no need for her to stay involved.”

“Good.” There’s a brief pause, a contemplative silence, before Romeo excuses himself to get prepared for an important meeting to coordinate their first official press conference to address the murders.

They’ve been holding off on it since each victim came from a different area, which in turn came with an influx of differing information. But after working out details from the occult aspect of the investigation and getting law enforcement from each town on board, they collectively decided to let Sheriff Romeo Leighton and Deputy Sheriff Javier Peña be the ones to take it publicly.

The press conference is a crucial step forward, a chance to rally the communities and potentially even bring more information out of the woodwork. They’re in the process of setting up an anonymous tip line, hoping to encourage any reluctant witnesses to come forward.

Javier understands that this is part of the job, yet he can’t help but feel uneasy about his name circulating the news again. He knows the accolades attached to his career, the reasons people recognize him. It’s why he couldn’t bear staying in Laredo.

She finishes writing everything down, her hand cramping a little towards the end. Minutes drag by, the annoying hum of the fluorescents filling the room, before the door opens again and Javier reappears. Her heart flutters, a small smile on her lips. “I think I got it all written down.” She slides the papers over, and he silently puts the sheets into the folder.

“You workin’ today?” He asks casually. Her eyes flit over to the mirror. “Don’t worry. He’s in his office.”

The tension leaves her shoulders and she slouches slightly. “Yeah. Right after this, actually.” She brings her wrist up to check the time. She’s set to be there in twenty minutes.

“What time do you take your lunch?” Javi leans forward on the table, bracing his large hands on its edge, causing his arms to flex as he towers over her. She swallows back a small moan; he just looks so sexy in his uniform, mustache trimmed, jaw sharp, dark brown hair combed to the side yet clearly mussed from running his fingers through it.

“One,” she breathes out, looking up at him through her lashes, wetting her lips.

“I’ll see you at one. I’ll pull up ‘round back.” He rasps his knuckles along the table’s surface before taking the file into his hands. “Other than that, you’re free to go, Miss Leighton.” Back to being professional, yet she catches his flirty lilt.

“Thank you, officer,” she quips back, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Their repartee is a reminder that even in the midst of all this chaos, there are moments of sweetness. She looks forward to seeing him on her break, definitely attracted to how he just… made the plans without question.

He holds the door open for her, and she purposefully brushes against him while walking past. The contact is electric, brief, but tantalizing. He exhales through his nose, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You’re such a tease,” Javi mutters, amusement lacing his tone.

She glances back over her shoulder and winks, “Just givin’ you somethin’ to look forward to later.”

His gaze follows her as she walks away, the sway of her hips not lost on him.

They’re nestled in a back alleyway between two abandoned buildings, remnants of an old bank and a long-forgotten pharmacy, not far from the library. She’s perched up on his lap, lips desperately chasing his, the lunch she had packed for the day left in the front seat.

It’s no surprise they find themselves here, their kisses frantic and heated, his hands resting respectfully on her waist, even though he aches to let them roam along her curves.

One too many flirtatious jokes, a few lingering gazes, and Paloma giving him her bedroom eyes were all it took for Javier to usher her into the backseat of his police cruiser, ready to accept whatever she is willing to give him.

After all, she calls the shots— deciding how far they go. She takes what she needs, and he, attuned to her desires, follows her lead.

“The lost art of just kissin’,” she sighs out once she pulls away, placing a sweet kiss to the faint scar on his nose. The tips of her acrylic nails scratch softly along his scalp, and he lets out a shaky breath, fingers digging into her hips.

“Got me feelin’ like I’m seventeen again, nena.”

She giggles softly. “Oh c’mon Javi, we both know you were doin’ a whole lot more than just kissin’ at seventeen.”

“Weren’t you?” He teases, leaning in to brush his lips against her jaw. Her head rolls back onto her shoulder, the scratchiness from his mustache tickling her skin.

“I plead the fifth.”

Their lips connect again, her tongue licking into his mouth. He grunts at the feeling of it intertwined with his own.

She’s so addicting, her kisses more intoxicating than any vice he’s ever known. Purer than the finest cocaine, more potent than the strongest weed strain, a greater buzz than the nicotine. He could lose himself for hours in the feel of her soft, plump lips and the warmth of her body pressed against his.

It’s a slow, sensual dance of tongues and lips, saliva and sweat. Each touch needier than the last, her taste imprinting itself on his memory. His hands roam up and down her sides, feeling the gentle curve of her waist and the softness of her skin through the fabric of her dress.

“You, sweetheart, have the sweetest lip gloss I’ve ever tasted,” he murmurs when they break to catch their breaths, kissing the corner of her mouth.

His expression is absolutely blissed-out, lips swollen from her playful bites, hair tousled where her fingers tugged, and hazelnut eyes darkened with pure lust. She feels a rush of heat flash through her entirely, every inch of her skin tingling with a craving that matches his.

“S’a honey balm from the Miller’s down at the farmers market. Got it in the strawberry flavor,” she smiles, pursing her lips and smacking them together playfully.

Strawberries and honey. He’s definitely in love.

“Gotta get you more of that. Quickly.” He squeezes her hips again, and she moves her fingers from his hair, trailing down to grab his wrists, bringing his hands to rest on her rear over the skirt of her sundress.

“You can touch me, Javi. I ain’t gonna bite.”

“But I might. I’m holdin’ back here, baby.” Despite his words, he takes the supple skin of her ass into his big hands and kneads gently. Oh, it feels so good, she can’t help but rock against his half hard erection, both of them sighing out in unison.

“Oooh, maybe you’re right. Tryin’ to hold out for as long as I can,” her movements slow to a stop, a teasing smirk on her lips when she feels the twitch beneath his uniform pants.

“Take your time. It’s not like you’re drivin’ me crazy over here,” his voice drops to a hoarse whisper, a little raspy from the cigarette he’d just smoked and how breathless her kisses have left him. He frees one hand to bring hers up to his lips, kissing her knuckles and nipping gently at her fingertips.

“That’s like, the whole point,” her breath falters as his lips leave a trail of kisses, ending at the pulse point on her wrist where he softly bites.

She gasps his name out, his tongue soothing the spot he’s bitten.

“Perdóname, querida. You’re just so soft and taste so sweet,” his voice is still low, eyes sparkling with eagerness, it has her thighs twitching around his hips.

“Heard you got a show on Friday...” he begins, lips still brushing against her wrist, utterly captivated by her.

“Mhm, goin’ to rehearse with the band after my shift,” her fingertip traces up the strong line of his jaw, softly pinching at his ear lobe affectionately.

Such an innocent touch, so softhearted on her part and he genuinely feels like he’s on cloud nine. Javi drops her wrist from his lips, now shifting to play with her hair. He revels in its silky softness between his fingers and how right it feels to have her on his lap. “How’s your music going?”

“A lot better than it was. Had a slow start but I’ve been workin’ on things again.” She’s gone back to her hobby after neglecting it. The support from her bandmates, who hadn’t totally bailed after her little impromptu break, has been a tremendous relief.

“And when do I get to hear them?”

She snorts softly, shaking her head. “Whenever they’re ready to be heard.”

“Well, that just doesn’t seem fair,” he protests, lightly tugging on her hair.

“You ain’t entitled to my art. Such a man sometimes,” A spark of arousal flares in her core at the pull to her scalp. If he gets her any more wet, she’s certain it’ll seep through her flimsy underwear, staining the crotch of his khaki work pants.

Have fun explaining that to the sheriff.

He gives her an annoyed look which has a smug smile ghosting over her lips. He can be so sassy sometimes.

“So you’ve got a show Friday...” he begins again, curious hands tracing down the length of her body, eliciting a soft keen from her.

“Uh huh...”

“And the bar’s closed Saturday for a private event...” His touch shifts to the outside of her thighs, gently bunching up the frilly skirt, fingers grazing the newly exposed skin.

“Right...” She’s only half-listening, lost in the distracting sensation of his hands on her, each caress sending sparks of pleasure straight to her clit. He seems to know exactly where to apply pressure, how to grasp her just right.

“Come over,” he mutters, his invitation now sending her heart racing.

“So forward, Javi. At least take a girl out first.”

“It’s not like that... but it can be like that if that’s what you want,” he replies with a lopsided grin, eyes gleaming with affection. “I do want to do something nice for you, baby.”

She tilts her head, studying his handsome features with admiration. Kristy was right, he definitely resembles the Hollywood cowboys.

“So, like a date?” Paloma needs to hear him say it, her thumb now smoothing over his mustache.

It feels oddly adolescent to him, hearing it put that way, but he nods, squeezing her thighs gently. “Yeah, a date.” Javier tilts his head to kiss the pad of her thumb.

Her smile widens and she leans in to press their lips together. “I’m taking that as a yes?” his words are muffled against her eager mouth.

“Si, Javi. Now stop talkin’,” she groans out, their lips fervently meeting again.

Given the green light to touch her, his hands roam freely; from her thighs, to her ass, to her waist— he can’t get enough. She arches her back, encouraging him to keep going.

He hesitates when his hand hovers over her chest, unsure if she wants for him to get handsy there.

Sensing his need for her approval, Paloma guides his large palm to press against her breast. A low moan escapes his lips as he feels the plushness, fingers sinking into her skin and mouth swallowing her gasp.

He fondles the flesh gently, thumb brushing over the stiffened peak of her nipple that pokes through the thin fabric. “No bra, chiquita?” He pants against her lips when she pulls back, her eyes fluttering close as he continues to toy with her.

“S’too hot out to wear a bra,” she whines pathetically when he pinches, biting her lower lip.

“Hmm...” He moves to get a better look at her. A sultry expression of pleasure gracing her features. “Is it too hot for panties?” The hand on her thigh starts to inch inward, testing boundaries, and her eyes snap open, meeting his.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she teases, planting another kiss on his nose then gently guiding both of his hands back to their original place on her hips.

His lips form into a playful pout, and she can’t resist pinching his cheeks. “So, Saturday night, your place. What do I need to wear ‘n what time do I need to show up?”

“A pretty dress like this is just fine,” he answers, eyes scanning her figure appreciatively, noting the delicate floral pattern of the little number she’s wearing now. “Eight sound good?”

“Sounds just right to me, cowboy.”

Parting from him takes so much willpower, but she manages, glancing at the time and realizing she barely has ten minutes to fix her slightly disheveled appearance before returning to work. Time had flown by entirely too fast, though it always tends to whenever she’s with him.

Damn, now she’ll have to sneakily eat her lunch through the afternoon.

He pulls up to the back entrance of the library, away from the bustling main street and prying eyes. She leans over the console, her lips seeking his for a goodbye kiss. He doesn’t let her go so easily, bringing the hand that isn’t on the steering wheel up to cup her face.

“M’gonna be late, Javi,” she utters against his lips, and he grunts softly before reluctantly letting her go.

Kissing her is all he’s ever wanted to do. The number of times he’s gotten himself off solely by imagining the feel of her mouth on his... And now that he’s been granted the absolute fucking blessing of actually experiencing it, he can’t help but be a little gluttonous. Her taste, her touch, her softness—it’s all so inebriating.

“Fine, nena. I’ll let you go. I’m gonna try to show up for you Friday, but with everything we got going on, I dunno if I’ll make it.”

She almost asks for an update, which she had meant to do over her break until they got preoccupied, but decides against it. Her finger traces the tip of his bushy eyebrow. “No worries, handsome. I get you all to myself on Saturday.”

They both sport matching smiles before she reaches for the handle and pushes the door open. Paloma pauses for a brief second, a mischievous smile on her face as she hikes her dress up inconspicuously while getting out of the car, giving him a good look at the baby blue lace underwear she’s wearing.

“Guess it ain’t too hot to forgo these. Have a good day, officer.”

His breath catches, desire surging through him. He almost reaches out to pull her back in, to drive back to that alley and spread her out on the backseat with his tongue buried deep inside her, but she slams the door in his face before he can properly react.

He watches her, eyes narrowed behind tinted aviators, as she skips away, teasing him for the second time today.

When she disappears into the building, he leans back in his seat, savoring the lingering taste of her on his lips and the promise of a date. He’s really got to get his shit together.

She very diligently applies her mascara, carefully brushing each lash to avoid any smudges on her face.

Her date with Javier is in less than an hour, and she has no idea what to expect.

Anticipation courses through her veins at finally being able to experience this side of him. Tonight feels like a step towards something promising.

It really seems like he’s putting in genuine effort to prove himself to her. That’s all she wanted, really, was the effort.

Obviously, she never expected him to change overnight, but knowing he’s taking those steps towards redemption is enough to rekindle some of the trust she once had in him.

As she rubs her lips together after applying more of the strawberry honey balm, she thinks of his reaction from earlier in the week. His praise of the sweet flavor makes her skip the lipstick and gloss entirely.

Paloma stands in front of the full-length mirror, contemplating her outfit for the dozenth time in the last hour. Different articles of clothing litter the floor of her room, each one discarded in pursuit of the ‘perfect’ look.

If she could change one thing about herself, it would be the ability to get ready without making such a fucking mess.

She’s nervous. Excited too, but nervous nevertheless. She wants to look effortlessly beautiful, like she hadn’t tried too hard. Javier had told her that a simple sundress would be fine, but she knows that most men are absolutely clueless when it comes to women’s dress codes.

After much deliberation, she settles on a sage green dress that falls just above her knees. It’s modest yet romantic, hugging her curves and accentuating her breasts with its bustier-style top. The color complements her skin tone, and she can’t help but smile at her reflection as she straps on her wedged heels, admiring how they elongate her legs.

As if she hadn’t spent what felt like hours in the bath, shaving, waxing, and plucking until her skin was as smooth as her beloved angel cake. Her hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders and her makeup is light—enhancing her features without being too over the top.

Taking a deep breath, she gives herself a final once-over.

She looks pretty, the illusion of effortless beauty rightfully achieved. Her heart flutters at the thought of him, of the way his brown eyes will light up when he sees her.

Does she have the intention of fucking him tonight? Absolutely, even though part of her feels she should make him suffer just a little longer. But damn, is it difficult— especially if he swoons her any more… and given how much of a casanova he is, that won’t be very hard of him to do.

Then again, anything could happen. They might end up so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even make the first step into falling into bed…

Who is she kidding? They’re both equally insatiable, and if that make out session in his cruiser was any indication of what’s to come, she’ll just let it fucking be.

Realizing that her neck looks a little bare, she rummages through her jewelry box for the perfect accessory. Cursing under her breath when she can’t find it, she spritzes one final dose of her favorite perfume before making her way downstairs in search of her purse. She’s certain her necklace is in there.

She descends the staircase, putting her earrings in, her heels clicking softly on the polished wood.

“Where you goin’ all dressed up?” her father questions from his spot on the couch, a baseball game playing on the television.

“Out for dinner and a movie. You seen my purse?” She paces through the living room with no luck, now disappearing into the kitchen.

Romeo stands with a grunt, muting the TV as he walks over to the hallway between the two open spaces. “S’hanging on the hook by the door… you goin’ alone?”

She passes him as he asks, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of her bag and pulling it off the hook, digging through it until she finds what she’s looking for.

Her delicate cross necklace. She’s had this since she was a little girl, and while she struggles with her faith, the piece of jewelry does hold sentimental value in the same way her mother’s pendant does.

“No. I’m goin’ on a date,” Paloma answers truthfully yet nonchalantly, holding up the necklace to her father. “Mind puttin’ it on?” She turns her back to him, gathering her hair so he’s able to loop it around her neck.

“A date?” The words leave a bitter taste on his tongue, his lips turning downward as he scowls. “With who?” Romeo’s hands are surprisingly gentle as he fastens the clasp, a contrast to his gruff demeanor.

“With a guy. S’usually how these things work.” She has to tread carefully here, not wanting to reveal that she’s actually going out with Javier. That conversation will happen whenever the time is right, as Javi had reassured her, so she considers this as warming him up to it so he isn’t as pissed when he inevitably finds out.

‘Cause he will be upset, but he’ll also get over it. His first reaction to anything has always been anger.

She can feel the weight of his scrutiny, his protective instincts kicking in full force.

“Yeah, but what guy? And how long have you been in cahoots with this prick?” She turns to face him, not hiding the amused look on her face.

“In cahoots,” she repeats, snorting out a laugh. “You are such an old man.”

“Paloma…” he begins, his tone more stern, and she sighs.

“Someone I met at the barbecue after you left. It’s nothin’ serious,” she lies. “S’why I’m goin’ on this date. Seein’ if it’s somethin’ worth pursuin’ or if it’s just a fluke.”

He stares at her for a good, long minute. “Dunno how I feel about lettin’ you go out with some asshole you barely know. And what type of man has his lady drive to him and not come pick her up himself? He scared’a me or somethin’?”

Yes! she wants to shout. Literally any date she’s ever gone out with has been put off by her father. Javier included, which is a little comical to her, but she understands. He can be very intense when he wants to be. Bless his heart.

“Well, he’s not exactly terrified,” she explains, trying to sound casual. “But he respects you, ‘n he knows how much you mean to me. He didn’t want to overstep. I was the one who suggested it.”

Romeo’s eyes narrow, assessing her words. With the revelation of a killer going around romancing the young girls in town and filling their heads with blasphemous ideologies, the last thing he wants to hear is that his daughter is going out with a stranger.

“I don’t like this one bit. Can’t risk somethin’ happenin’ to you ‘cause some asshole ain’t got the guts to face me.”

“Daddy,” she begins, “I understand, I really do. ‘Specially after what happened…” Paloma trails off, insinuating the events of that night. They haven’t talked about it directly, only skirting around the details of when she went in to give her statement.

It’s the signature Leighton pattern— issues left untouched until they boil over in an argument.

It’s not like he had anything new to say, anyways. Just his typical, fatherly spiel that she's heard too many times to count. A dash of sexism thrown in there to drive his point home.

“However,” she straightens her posture, meeting his gaze with determination, “You’ve taught me everythin’ I need to know ‘bout defendin’ myself. I‘ve got the pepper spray ‘n taser you got me right here.” She opens her bag, pulling out the two items for him to see.

Romeo just glares at her, his jaw tight with worry.

“And I’ve got the other set in my car, a baseball bat in the trunk, and the gun in the glovebox. I know how to bust out of zip ties and land a mean uppercut. Break a nose. Go for the family jewels.” She continues, her voice steady. She needs for him to understand that she’s prepared, that she’s taken all his lessons to heart.

Paloma knows she won’t need any of this tonight, considering she’s going to be with Javier. Still, she wants her father to know that he’s taught her well.

“I’ll be home by midnight… if it makes you feel any better, I can call you halfway through to check in.”

She searches his eyes, seeing the conflict there. No matter what he says, she’s going out tonight. That much is certain.

“Fine,” he relents with a firm nod. “But the second anything feels off, sweetheart, you better—”

“I will.” She cuts him off, not needing to hear the rest. She knows. “Now, I don’t wanna run late, Daddy. I’ll see you later.”

He watches her leave after she pecks his cheek, his expression apprehensive. He’ll be waiting up for her to get home, porch light on, and probably a drink in hand.

Javier is nervously pacing the weathered porch of his trailer home, fist gripping a bouquet of flowers he picked up at the farmers market. He’d never been there before, but after she mentioned that’s where she got her favorite lip balm, his curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to see what else they had, hoping to find something special for their date.

When he spotted the flower stand, he knew he had to pick something out for her. Flowers on a first date is a timeless tradition he must abide by.

Honestly, he’d give her flowers every day just to see the way her eyes light up and the corners of her lips curl into that beautiful smile that gets him every time.

The thing is, though, Javi was so nervous that he started overthinking every little thing. He stood in front of the merchant for what felt like an eternity, not knowing what kind of flowers to get her. Roses were romantic but seemed too predictable. Yet, he knew she’s a hopeless romantic and a sucker for all the cheesy gestures, so those would have been the obvious choice.

But he didn’t want to go for just obvious. He wanted something that would surprise her, something that would show he put thought into this.

He sees the headlights of her car coming down the road and swallows thickly, literally shaking off his nerves. When she’s fully pulled in and parked, he wastes no time walking over to her, opening the door before she even gets to touch the handle.

“There's a valet here? So fancy already. Livin’ like the city folks,” Paloma teases, stepping out of the car, and he swears she’s never looked more beautiful.

The evening light bathes her in a soft, golden glow, highlighting her features in the most enchanting way. His eyes trace every inch of her form with unabashed admiration, lingering on the swell of her tits and the way the dress hugs her figure so perfectly.

Her legs look oh so inviting in the wedges she’s wearing, amplifying his temptation to ravish her before their meal.

“These are for you,” he says before he acts on his carnal impulse, revealing the bouquet from behind his back. Her eyes widen, and a giant grin spreads across her face.

“Javi, oh my god, did you just get every flower?” she laughs, absolutely enamored by the peculiar cluster currently in her arms.

Yeah, he had been so indecisive about what to get her that he just told the merchant to give him a little bit of everything. The florist, already amused by Javier’s indecisiveness, didn’t interject. If anything, he somehow made the clashing colors and patterns look like a beautiful, organized mess.

She loves it. It reflects them so perfectly. Each bloom in the bouquet seemed to tell a story, a perfect reflection of their own blossoming relationship.

Javier watches as she brings the flowers up to her face, inhaling deeply. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, savoring the fragrance, and when she opens them again, there’s a softness in her gaze that makes his heart race.

He takes a mental photo of her like this. So mesmeric. He never wants to forget it.

“Couldn’t decide on which to get, so I thought, why not all of ‘em… you like it?” He’s so adorable when he gets a little shy, a small frown on his face.

She tears her gaze from inspecting the flowers to look at him, and she swears her entire existence is reduced to a puddle on the ground with the look he’s giving her.

“I fuckin’ love it, cowboy. Makes me feel like I’m in my garden.” Her lips spread into a toothy grin. “So sweet. This is perfect.”

This is perfect. Those words alone are enough to put him at ease. He feels a wave of relief wash over him, the anxiety he’d been harboring slowly dissolving into warmth just from three little words.

“Let’s head inside.” He escorts her up the porch, his hand resting on her lower back the entire time, electricity building at the bottom of her spine.

Javier’s place looks different than the last time she was here. Cozier, more lived-in. She notices the additions: some college memorabilia, paintings she recognizes from the thrift store in town, a few family photos.

It’s neat and carries his scent, though she also catches a whiff of what she assumes to be dinner. The flickering candle on the coffee table adds a clean, inviting aroma. Seems like he took her critique of the space lacking personality seriously.

“Dinner’s almost ready. Make yourself at home,” he tells her, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head before walking toward the small kitchen.

“You cooked a meal?” Paloma questions, partially amused since she knows he rarely ever cooks for himself.

She sets her things down on the entryway table, careful not to smush her flowers, then slowly walks around the living room to get a better look at his new decor.

“Somethin’ like that,” Javier responds, a hint of pride in his voice. Earlier in the week, he had called his father, sharing bits about the new relationship he’s pursuing and asking what the fuck to do.

It’s an odd thing, this unaccustomed nervousness about dating. Javier has had his fair share of women, many mere fleeting sexual encounters, but still— flirting and romancing have always come naturally to him. Now, faced with a mundane dinner with Paloma, he finds the usual confidence in his charm faltering ever so slightly.

He feels like he’s doing both too much yet not enough at the same time.

To say Chucho was surprised was an understatement, and he couldn’t help but get in a few jabs about how he knew his son moving up there was going to be good for him.

“See what happens when you actually listen to your old man?”

His father’s teasing and encouragement had pushed him to step out of his comfort zone and actually try to piece together a decent meal. Nothing spectacular, just chicken baked in the oven with some vegetables. He contemplated getting a bottle of wine, but then landed on that damn root beer and cherry drink she likes so much.

As he moves around the small kitchen, he feels those nerves slowly creeping up on him again. He catches a glimpse of her through the doorway, exploring his living room, her presence making the place feel a little bit more like home.

She trails her fingers over the framed photos, pausing at one of him side by side with an older man. Both of them are posed in front of a wooden fence with what looks like horses behind them. They look so similar, no doubt that’s his daddy. If the matching mustaches weren’t an indication, then the large grins they both wear were a dead giveaway.

He looks so charming with a genuine smile on his face. Paloma wants to see it on him all the time, even if she does like her grumpy, pouty Javi.

He’s attempting to share his life with her in these small but significant ways. It’s more than she expected, and it fills her with so much affection.

She takes a peek at his small bookshelf, different novels neatly aligned, but it’s the Italian language learning guide that gets her attention. Her brows furrow in curiosity, plucking it from the shelf and thumbing through it. “You learnin’ Italian?” She asks over her shoulder, reading the note inside.

Sorry these took so long. I translated as much as I could. Let me know if I can do anything else for you. Hopefully this helps.

Clearly a woman’s handwriting, but she knows better than to jump to conclusions.

“Kind of, not really. Needed it for the investigation.” His tone suggests he doesn’t want to elaborate, and she doesn’t press him further, despite her nosiness on wanting to know what aspect of his work required him to know this language specifically.

She thinks of the old man in Louisiana, his cryptic words, outlandish request, then demise. To avoid putting a damper on her mood— she shoves him to the back of her mind and returns the book back to its spot.

Would she ever tell Javier about that night? About how she witnessed a man’s death and then subsequently watched as her ex and his best friend dumped his body into a swamp? Or is it something she’s destined to take to her grave?

She had told August, much like her mother, she would harbor her own secrets now. But with the way things are going with Javier… would she eventually feel comfortable and secure enough to share all that with him?

Paloma wonders if he could handle the weight of it, especially in the context of her mother’s past. A part of her fears that revealing the absurdity of it all might shatter the fragile connection they are re-building.

As she contemplates this, she thinks of the newfound look in Javier’s eyes when he’s with her— tender, understanding, and patient. Could he be the one she finally trusts with everything that weighs heavily on her heart?

The thought is both terrifying and liberating. She imagines his reaction, how his face might contort in shock or, perhaps, how his arms might wrap around her in comfort.

For now, though, she keeps the secrets locked away, buried deep. The path to trust is a slow and winding one.

One step at a time. Just focus on enjoying the night you’ve been looking forward to all summer.

Paloma moves towards the kitchen, watching Javier as he busies himself with pulverizing cherries in a short glass cup. The sight of him so concentrated, fingers stained with the sticky, sweet mess, sends a warm flutter between the apex of her thighs.

“Need any help?” she offers, sidling up to him and eyeing the chaotic counter now faintly stained in red.

He turns to look at her, “No, I got this,” a stubborn reply, from a stubborn man, to a stubborn woman.

She snorts out a chuckle, shaking her head. “Them cherries sure look muddled. Jeez, what’d they do to you?”

“I might have gone a little overboard.”

“Ya think?”

His lips quirk up into a smile, and he brings two of his fingers up to his mouth to suck the sugary syrup off, his gaze not leaving hers.

“Tastes good, wanna try, princesa?” he asks, tone smug and full of himself. It’s so hot.

She nods, speechless, and he dips his fingers into the jar, coating them before bringing them up to her parted lips. His eyes darken, trained on the movement of Paloma’s tongue as she kitten-licks his fingers before taking them into her mouth. Now she doesn’t break eye contact, sucking slowly until she lets go with a wet pop.

“Fuck me.” He mutters, mind completely clouded by her.

“Feed me first,” with a wink she pulls back, and he rolls his tongue over his teeth.

“Tryin’ to.”

And so, Javier goes through all the motions, pulling the chair out for her to sit in as he plates everything and brings it out to her. The table is arranged with an assortment of candles of different shapes and sizes, more flowers strewn about. It looks charmingly cute and a little quirky, which only makes her like it even more.

She sips from her drink, the tiny bubbles sparkling against her tongue, eyes shamelessly tracing over his built figure as he moves around the room.

One thing she’s always loved about Javier is how he isn’t afraid to wear some color. Tonight is no different. A muted purple top hugs his upper half, paired with dark jeans and boots. The first few buttons are undone, because of course. That’s just part of the outfit at this point.

The shirt looks so good against his brown skin, his collarbones defined and his neck thick. She’s starting to understand why he likes biting so much.

He flicks off the light, leaving them only in the warm glow of the candles and the single lamp in the living room. Sitting across from her, his eyes drink in every detail of her angelic face, accentuated by the flickering candlelight.

“You really cozied the place up. All for me?” she jokes, looking over at him with adoration in her eyes.

“I wanted to make it special,” he replies sincerely, even though he knows she’s just teasing. “You deserve that. You deserve a whole lot more.”

Her heart swells at his words. “I’m likin’ what m’gettin’ so far.”

Everything feels right in this moment. They know they still have things to work through, but right now, they’re exactly where they want to be—surrounded by the quiet comfort of their shared affection.

“If dinner is shit, I’ve got a pizza delivery guy on standby.”

Paloma laughs, shaking her head as she picks up her fork. “Hopefully we don’t have to resort to that, even though I do love a good pepperoni pizza.”

She takes a forkful of the meal he’s prepared, bringing it to her mouth and chewing slowly. Javi watches her intently, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Well?”

“It’s really good.”

His eyes narrow slightly, not entirely convinced. “You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“I’m not!” she insists, bringing a hand to cover her mouth as she talks. To prove her point, she eats another forkful. “Delicious. Compliments to the chef.”

He snorts, taking a bite himself. Not half bad, but he feels like he can improve. “Next time, it’ll be better.”

“Next time?” Her brows raise as she reaches for her cup. “Already plannin’ date number two?”

“Dunno if you’re aware of this, preciosa, but I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

They share a loving look, her eyes filled with nothing but fondness and want, his with a restless need to please and satisfy her. Sexually, romantically, platonically— all of it.

The conversation flows easily after that, laughter mingling with the clinking of glasses and scraping against plates. She catches him looking at her with an expression that makes her heart skip a beat.

Javier tells her about his father after she asks about the picture on his mantel. As he speaks, she can see the deep respect and admiration he holds for the older man. His eyes soften, voice filled with warmth, revealing just how much his dad means to him.

She wonders if she’ll ever meet this illustrious Chucho Peña. Would he like her? Would he think she’s a good fit for his son? Would he eagerly share embarrassing stories about the hardened ex-DEA agent? Maybe even show her adorable pictures of Javi from his childhood, painting a different, more tender side of the man she’s come to care for so deeply.

He doesn’t mention his mother, and she doesn’t ask. It seems they both share a reluctance to delve into the matriarchs of their families, a mutual understanding that some things are best left unspoken, at least for now.

“Heard about the press conference…” she sees an opening to ask about it in the brief pause that had taken over as they finished dinner.

Javier lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair with a beer bottle in his hand. “Yeah. Goin’ live on Monday. Your dad’s leading it. I’m just there to discuss the other aspect of it.”

Her brows furrow. “Other aspect?”

“The ‘scary religious’ stuff. Got a lot of information from a professor in California that helped us out. She sent me all that shit in there.” He takes a swig of his drink, nodding towards the boxes stacked up in the living room. That explains the Italian guide and the feminine handwriting.

“How… how is she?” Paloma asks about the girl, her voice quieter but filled with concern.

“Stable,” he licks his lips, “Lots of internal bleeding, real bad concussion. Doctors are saying she might not remember everything clearly for a few weeks after she wakes up. The medicine she’s on is only going to make that worse, so who knows if we’ll have anything concrete enough to go on.”

Javier doesn’t want to burden her with work talk, and he doesn’t want to entertain it either since he’s around it all the time, but he recognizes her genuine concern.

She swallows thickly at the update. This is exactly like something out of those true crime segments the news shows late at night. She’s not that surprised, though, considering the girl was on the brink of death when she found her. “That’s terrible. What’s her name? Who is she?”

“We don’t have one. No I.D. on her and she’s been unconscious since they brought her in. We’ve called around trying to see if she matched any missing persons reports with shit luck.”

Paloma’s heart twists. It’s bad enough to be beaten within an inch of your life, but to be unidentified afterward? To not have the comforting presence of a family member or friend by your side while your body recovers and your brain struggles to keep you alive?

She considers the idea of visiting, maybe bringing some flowers so when she wakes up, she isn’t greeted by the sterile, stuffy smell of the hospital.

“Well, hopefully she recovers soon.” Paloma takes another sip of her drink, chewing on some of the cherries at the bottom.

“Gotta take it in strides,” he grumbles, pushing his chair back to stand and beginning to collect their dirtied dishes.

“Oh, I can—” She starts to rise, but he stops her with a wave of his hand.

“Nu uh, quédate quieta (stay still), muñeca. I got this. How ‘bout you go freshen up and meet me in the backyard when you’re done?” The way he speaks to her with that affectionate yet stern tone makes it impossible for her to refuse.

“Mm, fine. What’s in the backyard?”

“You’ll see. Bathroom’s down the hall.”

Paloma complies, grabbing her purse from the entryway. She applies more lip balm, quickly brushes through her hair, and adds a touch of blush. Staring at her reflection, there’s a radiant smile on her face, her heart content and stomach fluttering.

She joins him outside, where he’s already puffing on a cigarette, and she can’t help but roll her eyes. “Una noche, Javi. Just one without the nicotine,” she slides the door close behind her and steps over to the railing he leans against.

“No can do, cariño. I’m afraid I’m addicted,” Javier replies, blowing the smoke away from her face. His dark eyes check her out, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while he taps off some of the ash. “You look real pretty tonight. That color looks good on you.”

She blushes, thanking him softly and biting her lip, looking away to control the loud thudding in her chest. God, why is it that the simplest compliments are the ones that leave her the most hot and bothered?

“Am I supposed to watch ya smoke all night, or is there a reason we’re out here?” she questions, tilting her head up to look at him as he finishes off the cigarette, flicking it over the railing.

“There’s a reason we’re out here.” He digs into his back pocket and pulls out a stick of gum, unwrapping it then popping it into his mouth, “C’mon.”

Javier takes her hand in his, the warmth and size difference so comforting that she can’t help but squeeze gently as he pulls her off the small porch. Grabbing a flashlight on the way down, he flicks it on to illuminate their path.

The moon is out tonight, but not in her full glory, a crescent shape accompanied by twinkling stars scattered across the night sky.

Paloma notices his truck parked right in the middle of the grassy yard, another object standing beside it but she can’t make out what it is.

“Had I known we were gonna be outside, I woulda skipped out on the heels.” Wobbling as she steps on a rock and almost injures herself, he steadies her with his strong hold, bringing her closer into his side. She gets a good smell of him—smoke, mint, cologne, and just pure, delicious Javier.

“I got you, bebita. Would’ve been a real shame for you not to wear those. Make your legs look so sexy.” That last part is muttered into her ear and her pussy clenches around nothing because of it.

They reach his truck, where two small lanterns are already glowing softly, casting a cool light over the small area. The bed is transformed into a cozy nest, filled with blankets and pillows.

“Wow,” she breathes out, her eyes widening as she takes in the sight. It’s then that she notices the unidentified object standing beside the vehicle. “Is that a telescope?” she asks, moving closer to inspect it.

“Sure is. Called in a favor to the high school,” Javier replies, walking over to retrieve the book he checked out from the library and a map he’d drawn up during his time between the station and working from home.

“What’s it for?” she asks, curiosity piqued.

“Stargazing,” he replies, spreading everything out against the lowered tailgate so he can get a better read of it.

Her brows shoot up in surprise, and she turns on her heel to face him. “Stargazing?” She sees the materials in his possession and can’t help but smile.

“Yeah. Said I’d learn a thing or two for you.”

“And what thing or two did you learn?” Paloma is beyond intrigued, inching closer to him. She sees the various colored tabs poking out from the book, different pages he’s marked as significant. She recognizes his handwriting on the map and, after a little more observation, figures out what it is.

“Did you make a constellation map?” She gasps, bringing her fingers to trace over the precisely drawn lines.

Her reaction is enough to calm his apprehension and he nods, confirming it for her. “Didn’t ever think I’d turn to astronomy for a hobby, but here we are. Esta mierda realmente es interesante.” (This shit is actually interesting)

He works the gum in his mouth, and she’s absolutely smitten. Javier checks the silver watch on his wrist. “We’re right on time, too.” He opens the book to the page he’s memorized by now, passing it over to her and pointing at a cluster of stars. “That’s the first one we’re lookin’ for.”

Her big, brown eyes stare at the photo, and she nods gently. “Okay… what is it?”

“I’ll tell you once we find it.”

They migrate over to the telescope, and he bends slightly to get level with the eyepiece, closing one eye as his fingers adjust the knob to put the glass into focus. She watches him intently, falling more in love with him the longer they’re together.

Because that’s what this is. Love. She knows it, has known it for a long time, even if she didn’t want to admit it. It’s not just a crush or infatuation. She harbors real, fervent emotions for the man before her.

Javier’s lips pull into a large smile once he’s got the constellation in perfect view. “Alright, princesa, come take a look.” He pulls away and motions her to him, she eagerly sidles up to him again.

“Tilt it a little bit north and you’ll see it.” She does as instructed, even though he distracts her with how he’s pressed up behind her, his hands resting on her waist and stroking gently.

The cluster of stars looks so cool, matching the photo he’d shown her to a T.

“¿Qué es, Javi?” she whispers, wishing she could capture the moment on a camera for herself.

Just as she had been watching him before, he watches her now. Her hair falls perfectly over her shoulders, her mouth slightly parted in astonishment. He’d pluck every star from the sky and gift them to her if it meant staying in this picturesque moment forever.

“Columba,” the technical name rolls off his tongue easily, “better known as the dove constellation.”

She pulls back quickly, whipping her head around to face him.

“Thought it was fitting. Just for my little palomita.”

The world stops, it really does, as the gesture fully sinks in, embedding itself in her heart.

She can’t help but think of how this moment parallels that of August’s. How on their first date he had revealed her bloodline connections to something so divine. How he convinced her that she was magic. A savior.

Here, with Javier drawing up maps of the stars and pinpointing ones that remind him of her, she feels much more cherished and special than she ever did with the reality of her mother’s past and the lineage she comes from.

She turns in his embrace, standing on the tips of her toes to plant a kiss on his lips. He hums as he tastes her lip balm, savoring the sweet flavor. “This is so romantic, Javi. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“Me either, if we’re being honest,” he replies earnestly, his smile unwavering.

They continue their stargazing, with him pointing out other constellations they’re able to see. He even indulges in the little research he’d done about the stories attached to each arrangement. Paloma is absolutely charmed, hanging on to everything he says, excitedly stepping up to the telescope and hunting down the constellations under his guidance.

Now in the bed of his truck, she lays with her head against his chest. The rhythmic pumping of his heart eases her into a serene calmness as they glance up at the sky. Javier gently strokes her hair.

The night embraces the summer sounds of the south: cicadas murmur in the warm air, frogs croak softly in harmony, and fireflies dance with their gentle, glowing lights. Leaves rustle in the subtle breeze while a distant owl’s call adds a haunting touch to the tranquil scene.

He’s never felt this at peace, not with Lorraine, not with Helena. Not with anyone ever. He never thought he’d enjoy the simplicity of a relationship. But here, with her in his arms, he finds himself rethinking that entirely.

She’s perfectly tucked into his side, as gratified as he is. All he wants to do now is take care of her, meet her every need, grant her every wish and more. Gone are the days of pretending this isn’t what he wants, even though part of him still feels like he doesn’t deserve her.

“Guess I can call ya a space cowboy now,” Paloma teases with a gentle laugh, her nose scrunching in that adorable manner he loves to see each time.

“Space cowboy. It’s got a nice ring to it.” His fingers stroke the exposed skin of her arm, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.

“Maybe I should get you a sparkly hat and some boots to complete the look,” she jokes.

He chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “Only if you promise to be my space cowgirl.”

“Deal,” her smile widens as she snuggles closer to him.

After a few more moments, Paloma lifts her head slightly, planting a soft kiss on his jawline. “Y’know, I think we’re writin’ our own story up there with the stars tonight.”

Javier smiles, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reaches his eyes. “Yeah? Shit— It’s one hell of a story.”

She shifts to straddle him and he doesn’t complain, letting her soft thighs rest on either side of his waist. Large hands move to settle on her hips, the skirt of her dress hiking up some and he lets his thumb run along her smooth skin.

“So what happens now, space cowboy?” she purrs, voice dripping with suggestion. Her manicured nails dig into his broad shoulders, and he doesn’t miss the way she subtly grinds down on his lap.

“You tell me, nena. Anything you want.” Javier’s cock stirs, not just from her movements but from the sheer, overwhelming need he feels for her.

He’s shown so much restraint, carefully paving over the rocky road of their relationship. But now, the sexual tension between them is stretched taut and ready to snap.

He feels a primal, insatiable hunger taking over him, reminiscent of the lover he was in Colombia.

“Anything?” The loving glint in her eyes is now replaced by a rousing, lustful spark.

“Lo que quieras.” (Whatever you want) His voice drops to a husk, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

She leans in, pressing her lips to his in an impassioned exchange. Her nails dig deeper into his broad shoulders as his hands get bolder, moving around to cup her ass, pulling her closer. It’s a repeat of what happened in his cruiser, but this time, there’s nothing holding either of them back from going all the way.

Paloma is more deliberate with the swivel of her hips now, fully grinding down on him. He drinks in her pretty moans as they fall from her lips, sucking on her bottom lip then running his tongue over her teeth, kissing her with a lewd hunger.

“Want you to touch me, Javi,” she whispers, forehead resting against his. Her fingers move from his shoulders up to the back of his neck until they’re intertwined in his soft, brown curls.

“¿Donde, bebita? Tell me where you want me to touch you.”

They’re all pants and heavy breaths as his lips trail down her jaw to her neck. She struggles to form a coherent thought, overwhelmed by the sensations he’s stirring within her.

“My— oh shit,” Paloma whines as he licks up from her neck to her ear, gently biting down on the lobe. She shivers at the contact, her body curving into his touch.

“Here?” he teases, his breath hot against her skin. His hands roam her body, mapping every curve and dip like he had with the works of art in the sky.

“Everywhere,” her voice trembles with need. “I want you everywhere but m-my pussy, Javi, please touch my pussy.”

Her words shoot straight to his cock, now fully hard beneath the denim. He pulls back slightly to meet her gaze, and despite the wanton passion flowing through both of them, he wants to make sure that she’s okay with going further.

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure in my life.”

That’s all he needs before he’s on her again in a complete frenzy, lips crashing against hers while one hand fists her dress. He realizes she’s not wearing anything underneath and lets out a guttural groan.

“Naughty fucking girl. Knew what you were coming over to get,” he growls.

Her giggle gets lost in her throat when she feels his thick fingers hovering over her clit. She’s so wet, her sticky arousal steadily building over the night, absolutely coating her folds and parts of her inner thigh.

“Dime otra vez lo que quieres. Tell me how bad you fucking want it, palomita,” Javier commands, his breath fanning over her ear.

“N-Need your fingers. Been dreamin’ about ‘em for so long,” she confesses, dripping with desperation. She feels even more of her slick seep out at the warmth emitted from his hovering digits.

“That so?” He cocks his head to the side, enjoying how much of a mess she is over him. Right as she’s getting ready to quip back, Javier presses his middle and index fingers against her sensitive clit, and her hips jerk to chase more of the contact.

“Ohhh…” she whines out, her head falling back as he begins to rub tight circles against her engorged flesh.

“Goddamn baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs, his mouth watering at the feel of her. Javi has a deep affinity for eating pussy, one of the many golden traits he possesses, and he so badly wants to have her straddle his face and do just that.

But he also wants to drag this out, enjoy her in the way he hadn’t the first time they fucked. His fingers work their magic, sliding through her slick folds, teasing her entrance before pushing in slowly, groaning at how she clenches around them.

She yelps at the stretch, but fuck, does it feel amazing. “Fuuuuck, Javi… just like that,” she moans, her hips moving in time with his thrusting fingers. He’s knuckle deep, setting a steady rhythm while his thumb flicks over her clit.

His lips return to her neck, sucking softly yet being mindful of not leaving any marks. Yet. His other hand is on her chest, pulling down the fabric that covers her breasts so that he can feel the warm skin of her tit, how tight her nipple is against his clammy palm.

“Look so pretty like this.” Javi groans against her neck, curling his fingers inside her, finding that sweet spot that makes her cry, her thighs tensing and nails digging into his scalp.

The sound of her squelching pussy is obscene, echoing ever so softly into the night, her pants and his grunts mingling together. “Just like that baby, please keep goin’. F-Feels so good.” His fingers are much thicker and longer than hers, his touch a testament to his skill.

“Can’t wait to taste you. Just know you’re sweet.” He kisses down her neck until he’s got his pouty lips wrapped around her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and grazing it lightly with his teeth.

Paloma shivers at the feeling, beginning to bounce on his fingers, encouraging him to go faster as she feels her orgasm slowly building at the pit of her stomach.

The truck rocks slightly with their movements, faint noises of metal and rubber creaking with how she rides his hand.

Javier senses her urgency, scissoring his fingers inside her cunt and curling them again. His tongue outlines her puffy areola and she whines out.

“Y-Yes, oh god, yes fuck, I’m gonna come.” Her eyes squeeze shut and he groans against her chest, pulling away to look at her, leaving the pebbled flesh coated in his saliva.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Fuck yourself on my fingers.” Blunt nails dig into the skin of her ass, giving her a spank, and the sting from it has her free-falling.

She grinds down onto his sinewy fingers, her grip strong as cum gushes out of her, coating them entirely. Her orgasm rips through her with an intensity that has her tasting colors.

She sobs his name out, and he revels in it, in her and how beautiful she looks falling apart for him.

He can’t wait to get her naked and spread out on his bed.

She goes limp, falling into his chest with his fingers still inside her. Her face is in the crook of his neck, placing soft kisses against the skin that glistens with a sheen of sweat.

“That was fuckin’ amazin’.” She licks at the salty skin, humming at the taste, and he grumbles something she can’t quite make out.

“Been dreaming about it for so long, huh?” Javi teases, finally slipping his fingers out, her slick dripping down his knuckles.

“Like you haven’t dreamt about me.”

“Oh, plenty of times, baby.” Much like the mess from the cherries earlier, Javier brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them from the taste of her. It’s heady and delicious.

“Mmm, sabes rica, nena.” (You taste delicious, baby)

She smirks against his neck, still kissing and licking, hips once more moving against his lap, the denim chafing her in the best way possible.

Paloma’s lips trail up until they’re at his ear, and she whispers, “You gonna be a gentleman and take me to bed or are you going to fuck me right here?”

Javier grunts, smacking her ass again, and she giggles sharply. “If I get you in bed, I might not ever let you leave.”

“Don’t tempt a girl with a good time.”

With a cocky smile, he readjusts her dress and tilts her chin to meet his stare. They lock eyes before diving into another heated kiss. “Wrap your legs around me tight,” he murmurs against her lips.

She eagerly complies, her legs locking around his waist. He scoots towards the edge of the lowered tailgate, lifting her effortlessly. As he steps off the bed of the truck entirely, she clings to him, her arms around his neck, body pressed firmly against his.

Each step towards his trailer home is filled with a sense of urgency, their bodies already buzzing with anticipation. She can feel his cock pressed against her, a tangible promise of what’s to come. She squirms, nipping at his neck, inhaling his scent which further turns her on.

Javier slides the door open, not giving a damn about the setup left behind. He’ll worry about that later. Right now, he’s got more pressing things to handle.

The moment they’re inside, it’s like something out of a movie with how they’re on each other. Eager kisses, impatient touches, hands roaming with desperate urgency. He sets her down and she’s quick to start unbuttoning his shirt, their steps stumbling in the direction of his bedroom.

She almost trips on her heels and he grabs at her waist to keep her from falling. “So fucking clumsy all the time,” he says under his breath, letting her slide the shirt off his shoulders and onto the hallway floor.

“Easy ‘fore I leave you here with a hard cock ‘n the taste of me in your mouth,” she teases with bated breath.

He scoffs, kicking off his shoes once they’re in the room. She tugs at his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You wouldn’t do that, muñeca. You want this as bad as I do.”

And he’s right—she does. With each article of clothing that gets discarded, each inch of skin that gets revealed, her desire for him grows more and more… if that’s even possible. Paloma doesn’t think she’s ever been this needy to get fucked before.

Javier stops her from unbuttoning his jeans, taking a step back, leaving her momentarily confused. But then he drops to his knees right in front of her.

“What are you—” Her words are cut off as he bunches up her dress to her waist, bringing one of her thighs to rest over his shoulder. With no warning, he dives into her pussy.

“Oh my god!” she gasps.

His tongue is wicked, exploring every crevice of her, the tip drawing figure eights over her clit. It’s all happening so fast, she doesn’t even know how to react. He sucks the bundle of nerves harshly into his mouth, and she screams out his name.

Rising from his spot, he pulls the dress off her on his way up. “Couldn’t help myself,” and he’s got an arrogant grin on his sinful face.

“And you say I’m impatient.”

One, two, three steps until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and he gently pushes her until her back is against the soft sheets. She looks up at him with those brown, smoldering eyes, basically telling him to take her.

Javier stands still for a moment, gaze raking over her naked figure, drinking her in. His fingers move to his jeans, slowly undoing the button, the zipper following suit, anticipation building with every second.

The room is dark, barely any moonlight casting in from the windows, yet her body is glowing as she’s sprawled out on his bed. Although this isn’t their first time being intimate, it is the first time he’s seen her entirely naked.

And damn, if she isn’t a beautiful fucking sight.

Dark hair fanned out against the white pillows. Her tits nice and full, practically begging for his attention. The golden cross pendant that sits between her collarbones somehow makes her look more erotic.

The curve of her waist and the plumpness of her thighs beckon him to leave his mark all over the supple skin. She’s still got her wedges on, elongating her legs and highlighting her calves.

This is why he loves women so much— their accessories, their clothes, their shoes, their femininity. It’s such a turn on for him.

Paloma’s skin ignites under his stare, and she would feel more self conscious if she wasn’t so keenly aware of how fucking badly he wants her.

He flicks on the small lamp on the nightstand, further illuminating the room and her.

Ogling his exposed chest and how toned he is, her finger comes up to beckon him to join her on the bed.

“Igualita a un ángel (just like an angel),” honeyed words drip from his lips, having her blush as he crawls over her, still in his jeans, voice full of reverence.

One of her legs hooks around his waist, bringing him closer. His hand traces her hip, moving slowly to cup her breast. He thumbs her nipple, watching as it hardens under his touch, eliciting a soft moan from her. He leans down, capturing the other nipple in his mouth, suckling and nibbling gently.

She whimpers, arching into him, her hands all over his back, feeling the flex of muscles under her fingertips.

His hands are everywhere, exploring, teasing, worshiping her body. Paloma’s breath hitches as his fingers then dip lower until they’re at her mound, softly tracing his fucking initial against the skin.

His descent down her torso is paired with sensual movements of his lips, tongue flicking out to taste her skin until he’s at the scar on her hip. He peppers kisses along the marking and she shudders, her stomach doing flips at the sensation.

Then he goes lower and she exhales shakily once he reaches the apex of her thighs, placing wet kisses along the inside of them.

“Javi,” she moans, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He smirks, moving with deliberate slowness, teasing her until she’s trembling.

“Just relax, preciosa,” he murmurs, his breath hot against her core. “I’m gonna make you feel real good.”

“Wait… let me take my shoes off,” she squirms in his hold, trying to reach for her heels.

He stops her by placing his palm firmly over her pelvis. “Nah, baby, keep ‘em on.”

She stares down at him, catching that glint in his eye, and who is she to fight him on something as trivial as this? So she lets it be, sinking back into the pillows, her body relaxing as he resumes his ministrations.

Javier’s lips leave a scorching trail on her, kissing and nipping at her thighs, the feeling of his mustache brushing against the tender skin has jolts of pleasure striking her.

His roughness contrasts with her softness, creating a thrilling friction that makes her breath hitch in her throat. She whimpers softly, fingers away from his hair and clutching the sheets as he makes his way back to her core.

Using both of his thumbs, Javier spreads her folds apart and it’s like a flower blossoming— her clit throbbing, pink skin glistening with her juices. He licks his lips, cursing in Spanish, his tongue flattening and running up the length of her sex, curling when it gets to her sensitive pearl.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head in pure bliss as he repeats the action a few more times, her arousal mixing with his saliva and dripping down his chin, down to her ass.

Javier fucking loves going down on his girls. Nothing, not even the actual fucking, compares to it. To be buried in that warm, wet, soft space between a woman’s thighs, hearing her whimper out his name while he coaxes out pleasure that most aren’t accustomed to, is just something he thoroughly enjoys.

He might be a giant fucking dick everywhere else, but in bed, he tends to show some gentlemanly manners.

His tongue works her with expert precision, alternating between broad strokes and meticulous licks. He keeps her spread open, teasing her entrance before dragging the wet muscle over her labia and up to her clit in one seamless motion.

Paloma has never felt pleasure like this. Not with George, not with August, not with anyone. Javier is eating her out so filthily, it puts even the most seasoned pornstars to shame.

He basks in the feeling of her nails returning to his scalp, fingers yanking at his hair as he continues his relentless assault. Her thighs squeeze around his head so tightly, he has to pry them back open, desperate to keep devouring her until she’s a quivering, moaning mess beneath him.

“Quedate abierta, nena (stay open, baby) or else I’m going to stop,” Javier growls, an empty threat but the vibration of his voice against her sensitive flesh sends shockwaves through her. Her hips tilt up instinctively, pressing him further into her cunt.

He is absolutely pussy drunk. It’s hard not to be when she tastes so divine, smells so intoxicating, and reacts to him so fucking sweetly.

It’s here, between her legs, that he truly apologizes to her. Each stroke of his tongue is an expression of regret for all the hurt and bullshit he put her through. His remorse is palpable in every lick, every suck, as he pours his soul into devoting himself to her.

And she can feel it. God, can she feel the way he shifts from languid kitten licks to full-on making out with her pussy. Just like the orgasm from before, this one builds quickly, mirroring dark clouds rolling in before a severe thunderstorm. Her moans crescendo, the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her.

Javier buries himself further into her heat, his tongue moving faster, his lips wrapping around her clit and sucking hard. She’s teetering on the edge, every nerve ending on fire, her vision blurring as she’s consumed by the overwhelming pleasure.

Her thighs tremble, the pressure mounting to an almost unbearable peak. “Oh, Javi… I’m gonna…” she manages to gasp out, her fingers gripping his hair tightly. He responds by doubling his efforts, hands pushing her thighs to her chest firmly to keep her steady and spread.

“Come for me, palomita,” a dark, seductive command that does her over. His aquiline nose brushes her clit, his tongue moving in perfect strokes, in and out of her.

She shatters, her back bends off the mattress as her orgasm zaps through her like a fucking lightning bolt. Paloma’s cries of pleasure fill the room, thighs squeezing around his head again as she rides out the waves of ecstasy.

Javier doesn’t let up, drinking up every drop that floods from her tight hole, tongue buried deep inside her cunt to lick as much of it as possible, and she has to roughly tug on his hair to get him to pull up when the overstimulation gets to be too much.

“Did so good, baby.” He praises. When he lifts his head, his mustache and chin are shining with the evidence of her essence, a long ribbon of slick trailing from his bottom lip, connecting her to him.

It’s the hottest thing Paloma’s ever seen, well, barely seen since her vision is misty with tears from how good he just made her feel.

“You taste even better when I’m fucking you with my tongue,” Javi whispers, his voice a low, sexy rumble.

He proceeds to remove her heels, kissing her ankle once he’s got the strap undone and the shoe off, repeating the action on her other foot.

All she does is lay there, still trying to catch her breath, her body reeling with aftershocks. He hovers over her, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss, letting her taste herself on his mouth.

The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unrestrained desire between them, makes her head spin.

“Mmm, my turn.” Her breath is ragged, heart racing, but she manages a fucked-out smile, her hands running over his chest, his stomach, then down to his unbuttoned jeans where his cock is almost painfully straining against the rough fabric.

“Not tonight baby, I need fuck you.”

Her heart skips a beat but she nods eagerly. Truth be told, she’s never gone down on a guy before, but after his little show down there, she’s eager to return the favor, to have him teach her how to please him.

She’ll bring that up another time.

Javier is fully naked now, his cock heavy and smearing her lower tummy with precum. He reaches over to grab a condom from the nightstand, but she stops him by wrapping her dainty hand around his wrist.

“You been with anyone?” She asks, flashes of Sloane crossing her mind, and her face twitches as she holds back a scowl.

He looks at her with a bewildered look. “Absolutely not,” he pauses, “You?” While she’d told him that things between her and August were over, the idea of her going back to him one last time nags at him from the back of his mind, and his jaw tenses.

“No.” She brushes back some of the hair that’s fallen forward, getting a good look into his golden eyes, their shine undimmed by the shadows of lust. “Don’t put the condom on.”

Goddamn, he really doesn’t deserve her. “Are you sure, querida?” he traces his fingers along her cheek.

She nods, her breath staggered from his touch, digits still brushing his hair back. “I’m sure. I want to feel you. All of you.”

With a growl of approval, Javier resists the urge to thrust his cock into her in one swift motion. He turns his head to kiss her wrist, then shuffles on the bed until they’re both on their sides, her back pressed flush against his chest.

Open-mouthed kisses trace along her neck and shoulder, her perfume and natural scent an aphrodisiac that gets him so high.

Javi’s hand grips her thigh then lifts her leg. “Hold it there, baby,” he instructs, and she complies, keeping her leg up as he strokes his cock a few times, gripping it at the base before slowly sliding it between her puffy folds, her seam drooling with her cum and his spit from going down on her.

They both shudder as his bulbous head nudges her swollen clit. He slaps it against her sex a few times, causing her to jerk her hips.

He laughs lowly behind her, and she can’t help but do the same, turning her head so their lips meet.

Using his kisses as a distraction, Javier slowly sinks into her tight heat. They pull apart, just barely, sighing into each other’s mouths as her walls pulsate around him, both of her previous orgasms having left her cunt wet and ready to take him entirely.

“Puta madre, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says through gritted teeth. The hand that was on his dick now moves up to grab the inside of her knee, keeping her leg in the air as he bottoms out entirely.

The sensation of being so fully connected, his cock filling her completely, is overwhelming. He’s definitely the biggest she’s been with, that much is apparent by the slight burn of him breaking her sweet cunt open with his girth.

He pauses, savoring the feeling, his lips still pressed against her neck, sinking his teeth into her tendon.

“Move, Javi,” she coos after a moment of getting used to the feeling of him, her voice a mix of plea and demand.

“So fuckin’ impatient,” with a groan, he begins to fuck her slowly, letting her savor every inch of him, friction building with each snap of his hips.

He holds her firmly as he sets a vigorous pace, the sounds of their bodies meeting, skin smacking against skin, moans and gasps and filthy words echo obscenely.

Her free hand reaches back to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. His lips find her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. “I bet it didn’t feel like this with that boy of yours,” he utters, timbre rough and thrusts brutal. “Did it?”

His jealous words ignite something in her, and she pushes back against him, meeting his hips with equal fervor. The angle allows him to hit deeper, each stroke driving her mad. “About as good as it felt with that bitch.”

His fingers lace with hers on the arm slipped beneath her head, which is resting on his bicep as he pounds into her cunt– having her yelp out from prodding her cervix. She’s pleasantly surprised, expecting for it to hurt, but instead it’s just pleasurable feeling him touch parts of her no other man has.

Paloma’s tummy juts as he pumps into her, a visual of his big cock fucking her. Her tits bounce with each movement, his response a throaty growl and change of pace. “Such a perfect fuckin’ pussy, nena. Fucked up by givin’ it to me. S’the only thing that’s gonna keep me going, now.”

She can’t help but smirk, reveling in his obsession with her and her body. “If it feels like this every time— ohhh shit,” she moans when he hits that one spot that has her vision spotting, “then you can have it whenever you want, baby.”

Javier chuckles darkly. She should really be careful with the things she tells him because he will take her at a moment’s notice.

“Need you to come all over me. Show me how good I’m fucking you.” The intensity of his thrusts, combined with the sensation of him stretching her and his heavy balls slapping against her sticky clit, sends her spiraling into her third orgasm of the night. Her body writhes, walls fluttering around his cock and he tightens his hold on her.

Paloma’s mouth falls open in a silent scream, overwhelmed and feeling like her soul has left her body. She shakes and spasms, unable to control how she reacts to him. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Don’t get all shy on me now.”

His words are like a trigger, and she begins to babble incoherently, whines and moans pushing past her pretty lips, his name a repeated mantra as she sings for him. Javi, Javi, Javiiiii.

“That’s right, good girl. Takin’ this dick just like I knew you would.”

Feeling her pussy convulse, Javier loses himself entirely. Thrusts become erratic, his own grip on her leg surely leaving marks as he reaches the peak of his climax.

“Fuck, baby, where do you want it?” He needs her to tell him before he’s fucking his spend into her, filling her up and possessively claiming her cunt as his.

Her head whirls, blood roaring in her ears, and it’s a miracle she can even hear him with how intense everything feels. She wouldn’t have it any other way. “I-Inside. I’m on birth control,” Paloma slurs her words, squeezing their interlocked fingers, tilting her head to bite into his bicep, lazily moving her hips to get him to come.

With a final, harsh thrust, he spills inside her, cock throbbing and groaning her name while thick ribbons of his cum paint her fleshy walls.

They stay intertwined, both panting and spent, length still buried inside her. Javier presses soft kisses along her shoulder and neck, murmuring sweet nothings as they come down from their high.

She moves to capture his lips in a tender display of affection, their earlier urgency now replaced with a gentle intimacy. “Much better than the first time,” she whispers, his forehead resting against hers.

“It only goes up from here. Literally.” he jokes with a sensual roll of his hips and she hisses from the already there soreness.

Javi lowers her leg then, fingers tracing lazy patterns on her hip. “You were amazing.”

She smiles, feeling utterly satisfied wrapped in his arms. “It takes two to tango, baby.” The name of endearment clutches at his chest and he goes in to kiss her lazily, moving his hand up to wrap around her throat lightly, holding her in place while his tongue slips into her mouth.

She hums in content, still tasting herself on his lips, the smell of sex clinging to his mustache. “What time is it?”

He huffs, nuzzling his nose against hers. “Does it really matter?”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “Si, Javi, I told daddy I’d be back by midnight.”

With another amused huff, he leans over to glance at his alarm clock. “It’s five past eleven.”

“I should probably get up ‘n try not to look like I just got fucked stupid.” He chuckles and she smiles faintly, but neither of them make the first move to disconnect. Even as their mixed cum starts to drip out of her and down his softened dick.

“You could just stay the night,” he suggests, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Tell him you’re with Tammy or something.”

“Mmm, as tempting as that is we got mass in the mornin’...” Her voice trails off softly, looking over at him. “And I told him I was goin’ out on a date so he’s expectin’ me back tonight.”

Javier frowns and she reaches up to smooth the crease between his brows with her thumb, reading his mind. “Don’t worry. Didn’t say it was with you. Just told him I was goin’ into town for dinner ‘n a movie with a boy I met at the barbecue. He wasn’t too happy ‘bout it at first but he let it be. Like always. S’why I don’t think we should be so worried to tell him ‘bout us.”

He studies her face, blush still lingering on her cheeks, her lips swollen, a warm sparkle in her eyes. “So I’m just a boy?”

Another roll of her eyes followed by a snort, and she’s the one to move first, easing herself off his cock.

He groans softly, gripping her hips and pulling her back towards him.

“Javier,” she warns, a little annoyed by his childish reply.

“It was a joke, querida,” he places another gentle kiss on her shoulder. “I understand how important this is to you. Just give me some time.”

She turns in his arms to face him, her fingers tracing absentmindedly over the warm skin of his pecs. “Okay, fine.”

They stay wrapped up in each other for a little longer, exchanging soft kisses, tender caresses, whispered conversations until she finally convinces him to let her go so she can freshen up.

Javier leans against his headboard, a lit cigarette already between his lips, sheet draped over his lap as he watches her stand from the bed, fully nude.

Paloma begins to walk to the bathroom, bending over to pick up her dress and shoes. His head tilts in appreciation as he whistles lowly at the sight of her round ass and the tantalizing glimpse of her naked, used cunt.

“Pervert,” she teases, looking back at him with a playful grin.

“A beautiful sight, muñeca,” he replies, a naughty twinkle in his brown eyes.

Moments later, she returns, looking a bit more put together, and sits on the edge of the bed where he lies, reaching for the cigarette. He pulls it back teasingly.

“¿Y esto?” (And this?)

“That was the kind of fucking that deserves a cigarette afterward. Come on, baby, let me indulge in your vice a little.”

He hands it over, watching with hooded eyes as she takes a drag, the smoke curling from her mouth and nostrils, making her look fucking sexy.

“Everything you do is so hot. Me vuelves loco, bebita.”

She smirks, leaning in to peck his lips before returning the cigarette to him. “Likewise, cowboy.”

He finishes it off, discarding it in the ashtray before grabbing his jeans, sliding them up his legs once he’s off the bed so that he can walk her out.

“I feel real fuckin’ terrible about having you drive back home this late at night.” He tells her as he leans against the doorframe of the front door, crossing his arms against his bare chest. Thoughts of recent incidents flicker through his mind. The unidentified girl at the hospital, how she’d been plucked from the crowd, beaten, then dumped out in the middle of the woods and left for dead.

He can’t and won’t imagine Paloma being in her place, because that will have him fucking spiraling.

She adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder, bouquet of flowers in hand. “Don’t worry, handsome, s’not that far of a drive.”

“Call me when you get home.”

“Yes sir.” A saccharine smile pulls at her lips and he grunts.

“Don’t start nothing you can’t finish.”

“Then I guess I should get goin’.” She takes a few steps forward, placing a goodbye kiss to his lips.

He holds her waist gently, capturing her lower lip between his teeth in a soft bite as they part. “Drive safe, palomita. Thank you for coming over tonight.”

“I will. Thank you for, well, everythin’,” she blinks slowly, “It was all great… I do see the effort you’re puttin’ in, Javi.” Paloma reassures him and he appreciates it, he really does.

There’s reluctance clear in her eyes and her departure tugs at her heartstrings.

She wants to stay, he wants to keep her here.

With one final peck, she heads to her car. Javier watches as she pulls out and disappears into the night. His heart aches a little, but he feels a sense of fulfillment from how everything played out tonight. Things are finally starting to fall into place.

The whole ride home she reminisces. How can she not? He quite literally rocked her world. If she wasn’t obsessed before, she definitely is now.

She can’t help the way her thighs rub together. How she wishes she could stay the night and have him fuck her until the sun comes up. Her entire being is buzzing with euphoria, on a high that only good lovemaking can bring.

As Paloma eases into the driveway of her house, the headlights cast a soft glow over the front porch, where her father stands, waiting. The sight of him warms her heart, his silhouette outlined against the porch light.

“You enjoy yourself? He treat you right?” Romeo wastes no time, voice gruff and tinged with both curiosity and concern. He takes a slow sip from his cup, eyes lingering on the bouquet of flowers she holds as she steps up to join him.

Paloma feels a gentle flush creep up her neck at the memory of Javier’s touch, her core throbbing from the way he had fucked her. “Definitely,” she murmurs with a shy smile, her words still carrying the lingering sweetness of their evening.

“Now you can quit your stressin’ ‘n get to bed. We got church in the mornin’.”

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