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jeonstudios · 2 months ago

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dextrocardia | 15

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 6k

warnings: self-esteem issues, feelings

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 15/?

The ride home lasts ten minutes, during which you’re holding back tears the entire time. It’s only when you’re finally inside your own apartment that you let them fall. It doesn’t help to see Fenrir’s collar and leash hanging next to your jackets, or his bowls still on the floor. In a way, it feels like you’re back at square one.

You know you promised Jeongguk you’d call Jihyo, but you don’t, knowing she’d disapprove of you being on your own probably just as much as he does. Still, realizing that sooner or later you’ll need to either get back to work or find another job, you send her a text, asking if there’s any case for you to work on remotely until you’re ready to return fully.

The first night back is emotional, but you’re relieved to finally be home.

“I don’t think it matters how hard you throw it,” a worried Jimin watches Jeongguk hurl a dart at the dartboard. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you’d see better results if you didn’t throw it like an Olympic javelin thrower.”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, just rolls his eyes and grabs another dart. The music around them is surprisingly quiet, drowned out by the chatter of the bustling bar.

“So, care to tell me what’s up with him?” Jin asks, nodding toward Jeongguk as he sets the three pints of beer on the table and takes a seat.

“His little lady left him,” Jimin explains sadly, sliding one of the pints closer to Jeongguk.

“Oh. Why? You weren’t a couple, were you?” Jin asks.

“No,” is all Jeongguk mutters before he heads over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. He has three of them, but only one actually hit the board; the other two embarrassingly stuck to the wood-paneled wall. From the marks already there, he’s at least not the first terrible dart-thrower. When he returns to the table with all the darts in hand, he pushes his designated pint back toward Jimin. “Can’t drink.”

Jimin meets his eyes, looking defeated. Jeongguk already explained that when you’re not with him, he can’t risk being drunk in case you need him. If you called, saying Hoseong had found you, Jeongguk would not hesitate to get on his bike or in his car, no matter how much he’s had to drink, and driving under the influence is something he’d rather avoid.

“She’s scared of me,” he repeats what you told him a few nights ago. Hearing the words from his own mouth stings less, but his heart still aches and his blood boils. He throws another dart but misses the board, and it sticks to the wall a few inches left of it.

“Wait. What do you mean?” Jin asks, confusion written all over his face.

“Yeah. Although I’m pretty sure she hasn’t ruled out that I’ll just snap one day and kill her, she’s mostly scared that I’ll want to hurt her emotionally.”

“But why would you? I thought you two were doing alright? I mean, she’s been living with you for, what, the last month?”

“We were. Or at least, I thought so. She kissed me, and we were… getting closer, but I guess it freaked her out.”

“Why?”

“Remember how I told you I was horrible to her before I found out what Hoseong had done? Yeah, the things I said… they were inhumane.”

“What did you say?”

Jeongguk throws another dart, swinging his arm and using way too much force. “What haven’t I said? I’ve told her that she’s too ugly for me to look at, that she needs to stop eating, that she’s incompetent, and that she basically deserved being trafficked if only the traffickers would take her. That’s the short version.”

“Fuck, man,” Jimin breathes in disbelief. Jeongguk told him what happened ages ago but not explicitly what he’d said to you.

“Yeah. I just… I wanted her to hurt, to pay for what I thought she’d done, but she never seemed affected. I’d call her something, and she’d flip me off or glare at me or call me an idiot or whatever, but she never… I thought she didn’t care, so the next time I saw her, I said something worse. But I wouldn’t have, obviously, if I… If I… knew.”

Jin puts his glass down, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “I mean, I haven’t met her, but isn’t she, like, objectively very pretty? From what I’ve heard?”

“Yeah, she is,” Jeongguk sighs. “Which is also why I didn’t think she’d take it to heart, ‘cause what I said isn’t true in the slightest.”

“But can’t she see how pathetically in love you are? No offense,” Jimin asks. “I mean, I take it you’ve apologized and probably told her what you really think? She doesn’t trust that?”

Jeongguk falls silent as he retrieves the darts again, shamefully avoiding eye contact with his friends on his way back.

“Wait, you haven’t apologized?”

“Of course I have,” he argues before lowering his voice. “I just kinda… fucked it up.”

He feels the confused stares of his friends. “I’ve apologized many, many times for how I treated her, and she seemed to kinda accept that? But I never explicitly apologized for the things I said. Nor have I told her how I actually feel about her.”

He sees how Jimin is about to tell him exactly what he thinks about that, but Jeongguk cuts him off before he's able to.

“After I somehow convinced her to stay with me, I thought carefully about how to act around her. I thought that it would be better to apologize for… everything. I thought ‘I’m sorry for how I treated you’ would cover it. And I didn’t want her to second-guess my intentions, so I didn’t actually tell her what I really think.”

“You mean ‘second-guess your intentions’ as in…” Jin trails off.

“As in think that I chose to help her because I was interested in her. I didn’t want her to think I had an agenda or to feel like she’d owe me in any way. She hasn’t had the best experience with men—men in law enforcement, especially—so I wanted to be as… safe, I guess, as possible for her. I didn’t realize she was still thinking about it, taking what I said as the truth.”

Jimin sighs. “So she thinks you might still consider her the ugliest creature to walk the earth is what you’re saying?”

“Apparently. I tried to convince her before she left, but of course, it didn’t seem genuine. I don’t blame her.”

A bit more optimistic, Jin tilts his head. “You don’t think she’ll believe you if you just tell her exactly what you just told us?”

But Jeongguk lets his shoulders slump. “I don’t think so. She told me I scare her because I have a desire to hurt anyone who wrongs me, and she doesn’t feel like she can read me. And I believe her. I wanted to hurt her, and during the mission, I had to pretend to love her when I really didn’t, so I kept switching up on her.”

The atmosphere shifts from frustrated and sad to just sad as Jeongguk runs his thumb over the dart in his hand.

“I lose either way. If I tell her that what I said back then was true, then I think she’s ugly, and I wanted to hurt her by saying so. But if I say that I lied and that she’s really the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, then I still wanted to hurt her. And after everything she’s been through, she doesn’t want a man with a desire to hurt.”

“But like you said, you didn’t mean to hurt her to that point, more so to be taken down a notch? And it got out of hand?”

“Is there a difference? I’ve hurt her, probably beyond what is salvageable, and she thinks I’m still capable of that; that if we disagree on something, I might turn on her.”

With a deep breath, you pull open the doors to the police station one chilly Monday morning, the sky outside gray and heavy with the threat of snow. It’s been three weeks since you came home, and though Jihyo put up a fight, she eventually agreed to let you stay.

Since months have passed, and you still haven’t caught Hoseong and his crew, you figure you might as well try to get back to normal. So you started planning your return to work, but then Christmas came, which you spent at your mother’s, two hours away.

Jihyo also agreed not to tell Jeongguk about your living arrangements, per your desperate request. You’d rather not deal with his savior complex, and you know he’d park outside your building if he thought you were in danger. You scoff to yourself, but almost immediately, guilt settles in. A savior complex isn’t why he’s worried about you; he’s just a good guy. You know that. Still, you don’t want him to know.

Walking through the station at nine a.m.—on your way to Jihyo’s office to discuss your new assignment—you almost hold your breath. Some officers glance your way, still not used to seeing you back, and maybe even less used to seeing you without Jeongguk. Or maybe they know you had a “falling out?” Would he tell anyone here? Jihyo, maybe, if she didn’t already know, but you’re not sure if he’d tell anyone else; his closest friends besides Jimin don’t work at this station anyway. And Jimin probably wouldn’t gossip about you either.

Jihyo is waiting for you when you reach the door to her office, calling out for you to come in as soon as you knock.

“Hey,” you say, closing the door behind you.

“Hey. Want a donut?” she asks from behind her desk, happily pointing to the open box, a half-eaten donut in hand and what you assume is part of the other half in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m good,” you grin, sitting down in front of her.

“Alright,” she says, swallowing and wiping some crumbs from her lap. “So, I’ve been looking over your request and proposed methods.”

You watch as she pulls her laptop in front of her, setting the donut down on the table, and starts scrolling.

“And I’d say it’s very reasonable if we’re okay with the risks.”

“I don’t think there are any risks at all, actually,” you argue softly. “We parted on good terms.”

“Yeah, I know. And they played a part in your survival. But I’m still gonna need to have a risk analysis performed. Who would you want to go with you? I could assign Sana, I think, if you want her? She’s on an assignment right now, but we’re hoping they’ll be done by Wednesday, give or take.”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m glad to see you back and wanting to work on what matters to you. I know the chief—ex-chief—did his best to be a pain in the ass for you.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait until the investigation’s finished, honestly. He deserves to rot in jail.”

“Agreed. I haven’t heard anything else from the higher-ups, so they’re probably still elbow-deep in it. Anyway, if you have any details you’d like to show me, I’m all ears.”

Your smile grows, and you reach into your bag for your laptop and notebook.

“Thanks,” you smile, standing up an hour later with your bag in hand. But before you exit her office and close the door behind you, you glance back at Jihyo. “By the way, I’m so glad you got the job. You deserve it more than anyone.”

“Thank you. It’s been… rough, these last couple of months. A lot to do and a lot of stress and pressure, but I think it’s worth it. And I’ve had help, making it easier for me to adjust.”

You know who she’s talking about; you don’t need to hear a name.

“He asks about you, you know.”

Holding onto the door, you look away. You’re well aware of what Jeongguk has done for not only you but also Jihyo, Sana, and the entire police station.

“Let me avoid him for at least another month. Then you can tell him whatever you want, and I can try to be a better colleague. But now? I can’t… I don’t…”

Jihyo looks at you, seeing the pain well up in your eyes when you think about the reason you left his house that night. If you can just have another month to force the warm, yet invalid and hurt feelings you have for him back into the box they broke out of when you first kissed him, you can try to be more civil with him. Hell, you’ll even work with him if he can keep it professional as well.

Jihyo nods, sad but understanding. After all, she had a front-row seat when he used to tear you bloody.

For another hour, you sit at an empty desk, excitedly looking over the preliminary plan that starts on Thursday. You can’t believe it’s about to actually become reality.

Step one:

Preliminary timeframe: Thursday.

Possible obstacles and risks: Low risk of hostility or danger.

Safety measures: Two detectives, civilian clothes, civilian car, concealed firearms.

Step two: Plan A or B, depending on what you find, if anything.

With your notes full of prepared questions, you rise from the chair, deeming it time to leave the station for the day. As you stand there, organizing your papers, movement catches your eye, and you look up just in time to see Jimin enter the big room. And of course, who does he have in tow if not Jeon Jeongguk, dressed, like so often, in the academy's navy crewneck and uniform pants?

Meeting both of their eyes, you’re saved by your phone’s ringtone, a sound that seems to stop even Jeongguk from taking an impulsive step toward you.

Fishing the phone out from the pocket of your black pants, you swipe your finger across the screen to answer. It’s Sana.

“Hello?”

“Hey! So I talked to Jihyo, and she said that your request got pre-approved? I’m a little busy at the moment and for the next few days, but send me anything you’d like me to look over in preparation.”

“So you’re up for it?” you ask, a wide smile forming. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Jeongguk reluctantly follow Jimin further into the room, where they start talking to two other officers with their backs turned. If you were more of a hopeless romantic instead of a realistic one, you’d describe the glances he sends your way as… yearning. To avoid his gaze, you focus on the notebook lying on the desk.

“Of course! You and me, just like old times.”

“Old times? It’s only been like a year since we worked on a case together.”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, I gotta go. See you.”

“I’ll send the info tonight. See you.”

Discreetly, you end the call and gather your things, quickly but quietly heading for the exit. But in the corridor, you hear a call of your name. You shut your eyes for a second before turning around. It hurts to see him, to walk these halls, avoiding him just like you used to. Only this time, it’s a different kind of pain.

The shame creeps in at the same rate Jeongguk approaches. It’s the same shame for how he sees you, but also for how you’ve reacted. You can barely look at him, yet you’re ashamed for not giving him a chance, even though he’s the one who made the bed he’s now tossing and turning in. He's so handsome, looking so warm and strong as he approaches, his black hair looking soft, shiny and just a little longer than last time. A part of you wishes he’d close his eyes so that you could throw your arms around his neck and breathe him in.

“Can you please leave me alone for a while?” is what you ask instead, clutching your notebook to your chest.

Now standing right before you, he looks down at you with sad, desperate eyes. “I’ll be quick, I promise. Two minutes is all I need.”

You’re not sure why, because you’re not an immature person, but you press your lips together, trying to suppress a smile. Noticing the shift in your expression, Jeongguk thinks back to what he said, smiling as well. “I set that one up pretty well, didn’t I?”

You turn your head, trying to stifle the smile, but you find that it fades easier than expected.

“And you think I’d wanna fuck that?” he snaps, eyeing your body with disgust.

Your gaze locks on the lower part of the wall. You wish someone would lend you the cloak of invisibility so that you could hide yourself from him and the world.

“Look at me,” he instructs, but you don’t. The more you think about his eyes on your body, the more you want to leave.

“Look. At me,” he repeats, firmer this time but still without sounding angry.

So you do.

“I get it if you don’t want anything else to do with me, but I can’t have you walking around, believing what I said is true.”

Although you don’t cry, you reluctantly let him see just how hurt you are.

“You were right. I wanted to hurt you. I said those things because I was angry, and I wanted just… some kind of justice. When you instead seemed so… unfazed, I let it get the best of me, and somewhere along the way, I lost myself. But I was wrong and although I wanted payback, I didn’t mean to hurt you to this degree. I was only looking for a reaction, anything that showed me that you were paying for what I thought you’d done. If I’d known how I really made you feel, regardless of if you were innocent or not, I would’ve stopped.“

“So you’re just a man, after all?” you ask, and maybe it’s uncalled for, maybe it’s not.

Jeongguk takes half a step back, appearing lost for words, and with enough pain in his surprised eyes for you to think he looks hurt.

He blinks and lowers his voice. “Yeah. Just a man. But listen to me—the things I said were. Not. True. Okay? You hear me? I cannot let you go around thinking you’re anything like what I told you.”

“I find that hard to believe. How else would you know exactly where to hit? What to say to cause maximum damage? Talking about my cellulite and my… weight and…”

“I said what I figured any woman would be scared to hear.”

“Yeah, sure,” you dismiss.

It doesn’t matter what he says now—he did know exactly what to say, which means he must have looked at you, inspected your body and found every single one of your flaws. It makes you nauseous, as if some of those flaws didn’t exist to the world simply because no one other than you had noticed or mentioned them. Then Jeongguk and his friends scrutinized every inch of you, uncovering them all and putting them on display.

“I think you’re gorgeous.”

“You would’ve told me.”

You really think he would have. The Jeongguk who wants you to sleep in his bed, holding you from behind, who asks to hold your hand, and who puts frosting on your lips as an excuse to kiss them—he would have told you if he liked you. If he thought you were beautiful.

“I didn’t. I thought–incredibly dumbly–that if I told you what I really think of you, you’d think I was hitting on you. If things were different, if we ran into each other somewhere without all this… baggage, I would’ve hit on you, but all I wanted at the time was for you to trust me as a friend and to trust that I just wanted you to be safe. I didn’t want you to think I was looking to get laid or that I would… that I was anything like Hoseong. I didn’t know that you took my bullshit to heart—because again, it’s just not true—and so I chose not to say anything.”

“But we’ve been past that point for a while, haven’t we?” you ask, finding his explanation a little too weak to believe. “I trusted you enough to tell you about the worst moment of my life, I kissed you, and I told you how pretty I think you are, yet you couldn’t even…”

Frustration boils in your veins, mixing with the raw disappointment and hurt which cools you back down. You feel so… small, so defeated. “I don’t need compliments. Just… something. Something that would’ve shown me you weren’t being sweet only because you felt guilty.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say to that. In retrospect, yeah, he should’ve told you, and thinking back to his joke about pretty being for girls makes him cringe with both shame and regret. Especially since he’d used multiple occasions to taunt you with the fact that you’re not a pretty girl. But it had been hard, finding a balance in showing his affection without scaring you off. When you reacted the way you did that night during the power outage, he... didn’t want to risk making you more uncomfortable or afraid. He’d decided to take a step back, let you lead, and he would follow. Of course, that backfired horribly.

You look at him, hurt still brimming in your eyes.

He searches for words, trying to explain himself better. “I should’ve told you, but I… I didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable. I wanted to follow your lead and let you decide everything. You wanted me handcuffed and blindfolded—of course I realized you were nervous. But I thought you were more worried I’d do something to you, rather than what I would think of you. I didn’t want to influence you to do anything you would’ve regretted.”

You’re clearly not convinced, and you shake your head slowly.

“You could’ve just given me a ‘you too.’ That’s all I would’ve needed.”

Jeongguk can only watch as you leave, obviously still very much hurt by him. Ten seconds after your footsteps have disappeared, he heads back to the desk area, his head hung low.

Jimin looks at him, JJ and Min gone. The unasked question hangs in the air, and Jeongguk can see Jimin realize that no, it didn’t go very well.

“You gotta remember that she’s had a hectic few months and maybe wasn’t really able to process everything. You being an ass was probably the least of her worries for a while—until it wasn’t anymore. And healing isn’t always linear. I’m sure she’ll come around one day.”

Jeongguk sighs. “I don’t think she will, and I can’t expect that of her. I just… hate myself for what I did to her. I never even realized she was just walking around, bleeding from my words.”

You haven’t fixed your car since the last tampering, but fortunately, Jihyo agreed to lend you one of the station’s unmarked cars. A discreet black thing that you park outside the station at ten a.m. on Thursday to pick up Sana, who needed to retrieve some things and told you to meet her there.

Getting no reply, you lock your phone and step out of the car with a sigh. The ground is powdered white, your shoes leaving tracks as you walk up to the station’s main entrance.

Warm air envelops you as you step inside, the doors falling shut behind you.

“Good morning!” Sana rushes over, a coffee in hand. “Sorry, I’ll be done in a minute, I just gotta ask Mark something.”

She gestures for you to follow, and you do, trailing behind her into the sea of desks. The place is unusually crowded with officers, so you decide to wait near the wall, leaving her to weasel her way into the middle on her own.

There usually aren’t this many people here when you’re around, but in your case, the problem isn’t necessarily people; it’s big, strong, law enforcement men. Though they’re not paying you much attention—they must be preparing for something big—you still can’t will your body to fully relax.

By instinct, you tug at your clothes, wishing you hadn’t left your jacket in the car. Since you decided to wear civilian clothes today, you thought you might as well dress somewhat according to your original mission’s dress code. Except adjusted for winter, of course.

You’re wearing winter boots that reach your upper calves, a pair of those invisibly fleece-lined pantyhose you’ve seen all over social media the last few months, and a cream-colored knitted turtleneck dress. It’s been in your closet forever, but unfortunately, you didn’t try it on before you had to leave.

It feels too tight on your body. Not to wear into a ‘strangely religious neighborhood,’ but too tight to wear here. You pull at the hem where it ends at your mid-thigh, keeping your eyes down when people pass you and hoping no one is looking at you and taking note of how awkwardly shaped your body is.

You stand there for a while, avoiding people’s eyes while you wait for Sana.

However, when you—out of the corner of your eye—notice a uniformed man walking toward you, you look up. Jeongguk’s eyes flicker between you and the people walking past you, as if he’s seen exactly the shameful way you carry yourself around men—these men—nowadays. It’s gotten worse since you left his house; you know that, but when all of your confidence was fueled by anger and then denial, removing those leaves… not much left.

He comes to stand in front of you, looking down at you with frustrated eyes. He’s so broad, so imposing, and it’s very evident when he wears his navy uniform, the sleeves rolled up his veiny forearms.

“Listen to me—”

You look away, about to step back, but he grasps your hand—not just to stop you but to guide the two of you a few steps away from the path of officers and behind the tall panels of a cubicle.

“No. Listen to me. I’ll leave you alone after this if that’s what you want, but I need you to know that you are so incredibly beautiful.”

You sigh, looking at him and wordlessly begging him to just give up already. He’s quiet for a few long seconds, his frustration seemingly growing.

When he speaks again, his voice is calm, more earnest. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“No,” you shake your head. You can’t recall the very first time you met him.

“I do. It was a rainy day—my fourth at the station—and I ran into you at the main entrance. The rain had wet your hair, and I held the door open for you. You thanked me, but you didn’t really smile much, just politely. I think you also bowed your head slightly. I remember thinking that you must’ve been cold from the rain, but I realize you were wary around the men here, even if you and I didn’t know each other.”

Sounds about right.

“And I thought that you were just so beautiful.”

You look down. It’s humiliating, and you feel like shit, hearing him throw compliments your way just to make you feel better. You can’t tell if he’s lying or not, but what else would he say? You can’t exactly say you expected him to approach you today to call you ugly.

Noticing your hesitation, he appears to be searching his mind for something, and you glance at him.

Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly, and he reaches into the pocket of his navy uniform pants. It’s his phone that he pulls out, and he starts to scroll. He scrolls, and he scrolls, until he finally finds what he’s looking for.

“Look,” he says, handing you the phone.

Although you’re not too keen on entertaining whatever this is, you can’t help but be a little curious. What could he have on his phone that would convince you?

Accepting the device, you start reading the words on the screen. They’re text messages from an old group chat, dated years back, and though you can’t remember the exact date Jeongguk first showed up at the station, you assume it was right around then. The chat seems to have consisted mostly of him, Ryung, Hoseong, Seunghwan, and Junseo.

Seunghwan: Yeah, we’re excited to have you, just let us know if you need anything.

The next few texts are from the following day.

Jeongguk: So I just met the most gorgeous woman I think I’ve ever seen??

Jeongguk: Quick question, is there a work dating policy here? I can’t remember.

Jeongguk: And if not, where do I find this woman again? Is she an officer? I’m not even kidding when I say that I’m absolutely head over heels from a three-second interaction, and she didn’t even really say anything.

Jeongguk: I’d love to ask her out.

Ryung: If it’s who I think it is then you better stay away, man.

You read on, seeing how Ryung goes on to describe a woman’s features, which happen to align with yours. The length, color, and style of your hair, the color of your eyes, and your height. But also a very generous way of describing your face and the shape of your body.

Jeongguk: Yeah! Is she with one of you already? In that case, I apologize!

Ryung: No, but Hoseong did her briefly, and she’s absolutely mental. Pretty, but crazy

The next words are not very nice, the men urging Jeongguk to stay away from the woman who could only ever be you, promising to tell him what happened the day after.

“See,” Jeongguk says, “Even Ryung knew exactly who I meant; I didn’t even have to describe you, just say that you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.”

You’re not sure. Yeah, the evidence points to that, and you can’t deny that you’re definitely feeling some form of relief, but… you can still hear his voice in your ears, see the anger and hatred in his dark eyes.

You hand the phone back, and Jeongguk looks around, sighing before turning his attention back to you. “You want me to be completely honest? Tell you exactly what I think of you?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “No? That’s the point? I know that I’m not your type. I’m full of flaws. I don’t have a body fat percentage in the negatives like you, I don’t always have the energy to shave every inch of my body, and I’ve never gotten flowers. No matter what you say now, I’m not someone you want.”

“You think I’m someone who would care about any of that?” he asks, his voice tinged with hurt.

“You look like someone who would.”

Jeongguk looks away, taking a second to gather his thoughts.

“I… wanted to ask you out that day, after I first met you. You looked so pretty out there in the rain, and I think my heart stopped for a while. I think that you’re cute—really fucking adorable—and charming, and you’re smart and kind, and you’re absolutely breath-taking and sexy as hell.

"Which was another reason I was so angry at you; I saw this… stunning woman, who appeared to live a very privileged life, yelling ‘sexism’ whenever something didn’t go your way to… I don’t know, avoid consequences and get ahead, not realizing what sexism truly meant for other women. I didn’t think there was that much harm in what I said because I thought you knew very well how goddamn pretty you are, so I gripped at every straw, trying to get a reaction.”

You listen to every word he says, still unable to decide. You want to believe him, but the deep wounds he carved into your skin are still bleeding.

“I was so conflicted during our mission. On one hand, I had to pretend to like the person who had shot one of my best friends, who got away with it and refused to be held accountable for it. On the other hand… I liked seeing you pretend to like me too. First, out of spite, but then I realized that I liked seeing you smile, and how nice you were to the people around you, except for me, of course, but I guess I always started it. Then you fell asleep in my arms at the barbeque, and I knew I was fucked. I felt like I betrayed my friends for… feeling something other than hatred for you.

“But this little thing, that hated me so much, let herself be so vulnerable as to sleep in my arms. And I guess I looked at you differently after that. The more I realized that you might actually be a pretty decent detective; a decent person, the harder it was for me to be mean to you. After everything, and after I’d found out what had happened, I wanted to tell you how much I liked you and how pretty I thought you were, but I was scared you wouldn’t come with me if I did. I was scared they’d look for you at your apartment, so I kept quiet.

“Even after you came to stay with me, and it seemed like you started to trust me, even just a little bit, I had to convince myself to wait. And the more I got to know you, the harder it became. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to bury you in flowers? Hold you and kiss you silly? And you know why I was always up before you—or at least I tried to be—when you slept in my bed with me?”

You shake your head because you don’t know.

There's something else in his eyes when he holds your gaze, “Because I dream about you, and I wake up hard. But I remembered how I freaked you out when we made out back at the house, when you were on my lap and I got hard. I didn’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable, so I made sure to wake up before you, just in case.

“I wanted to kiss you and hold you and really, it would’ve been my pleasure if you’d wanted to sleep with me. But more than that, I wanted you to be safe and feel safe, never doubting why I was doing what I was.”

He shuts his eyes for a short moment. “I guess that’s all I can say. I don’t need you to forgive me, I just need you to know that all I wanted was revenge; nothing of what I said was true.”

He opens his eyes again, looking into yours with his soft, brown ones and a gentle sincerity. Though it’s overshadowed by something else. “I have many regrets, but you are my biggest. What I did to you.”

Regret.

As if she’s been waiting for the right moment to make her return, you hear Sana call your name. When you turn around, you spot her approaching.

“I gotta go,” you excuse yourself.

Sana looks between you and Jeongguk, but when no one says anything, she shrugs and turns her attention to you. “So, Jihyo said you had a problem with your apartment? The door, was it? Cause I can call my brother, and he’ll fix it for free next week if you want?”

“You’re living in your apartment? On your own?” Jeongguk questions, his voice upset.

You turn back at him, “Yeah. Have been since I left your house. It’s fine.”

Despite the clear worry his eyes display, he makes no effort to follow you and talk you straight, probably realizing that there’s nothing else he can do; that was his last chance.

<previous | next> author's note: so there's that! thanks for waiting for it <3 this was the last puzzle piece of their past, i think, and i'd love to hear your thoughts on everything, but especially him lol <3<3

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jjenthusee · 4 months ago

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Late Night Talks

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: I’ve wanted angst, so this happened. Here’s another angsty drabble I’ve also written, if you’re interested. Comment your thoughts if you’re comfortable <3, I wanna know if this made you feel as empty as it did to me T-T (Link to pt.2 here)

Tags: Angst, hurt/no comfort, JASON SAY SOMETHING ANYTHING

Word Count: 2.2k

“Do you remember how we met?” You took another drink, the taste of alcohol invading your mouth.

“Hm.” Jason hummed, a glass of water in front of him, domino mask plopped next to it.

“I laugh every time I think of it.” You chuckled. “You smacked me pretty hard that day.”

Jason groaned as you giggled at your words. Your drunk self reminiscing on old memories, memories you didn’t dare think about sober.

“Don’t remind me, I was delirious from blood loss.” Jason winced at the memory. “Not my best moment.”

“Fair enough, it wasn’t very smart of me to approach a masked man bleeding onto the street.” You smiled, feeling the alcohol warm you. “So much has changed since then.” You swirled your glass, watching the liquid spin.

You held up your glass cup, watching the droplets fall down the sides. You hadn’t realized you drank so much that you had spilled some of your drink on the coffee table, your hand accidentally wiping it. The liquid surrounding your glass.

Jason grabbed a napkin to wipe underneath your drink. Grabbing your hand to wipe your fingers after.

You hands felt hot. You grabbed your cold cup to empty out the rest, not letting your mind wander too long on the contact.

“Look at us now, we’re sitting against my couch as I finish this bottle.” You lift the nearly empty wine bottle as you refilled your glass, focusing on trying not to get a drop over the edge this time. “You don’t have a mask on and we’re friends! No hitting too!”

Jason laid his head against the cushions as he watched you take another long drink.

He had stopped by unexpectedly. Seeking the comfort of someone else, so he dropped in by your window. He crawled in, making his footsteps loud enough to alert you that he was visiting you, but he found you, next to your couch, tipsy.

He rarely saw you drink. He hadn’t seen you at all the last couple of weeks.

Something must have been bothering you to bring out a bottle, half empty when he showed up. He was too afraid to ask what brought out this rare occasion, he already wasn’t around enough to know, so if you wanted to drink to forget, then he would stay quiet.

So Jason stayed, sitting on the floor with you, leaning against your couch. Barely fitting in the space between your couch and the coffee table. He listened to you ramble about anything that came to your mind. Dessert shops you wanted to try, a new shirt you saw at the store, the outrageous grocery prices.

He asked if you had eaten before you started drinking, bringing you a cup of water.

You were in a talkative mood, answering every question he asked.

“What did you eat?” Jason gently asked.

“Leftover pizza.”You cheerfully answered, making a triangle with your fingers to add to your point.

“Did you drink water today?”

“No.” You quietly said, quickly putting your hands down, pouting as you refused to look at him.

Cute. Jason thought.

“How was work?”

You eyes brightened.

“I have to tell you about this one lady that came in today, I wanted to shove my pen down her throat for how much attitude she gave me—“

As you talked, he made sure you were taking care of yourself. He didn’t want to see you dragging too much in the morning, but he also wouldn’t mind seeing your bed head as you rummaged through the fridge for a quick meal and a water.

“Actually, I lied earlier. I’ve haven’t changed. At all.” You stilled. The drunk, cheerful atmosphere suddenly getting serious.

The shift in your voice capturing Jason’s attention as he lifted his head to stare at you fully.

“I don’t think so.” He reassured you. Curious about your sudden self-conscious attitude.

Your eyebrows lower, clearly bothered by what Jason said.

“You don’t see it because you only see one version of me.” You stated, talking to Jason like that was a certain fact. “You don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“I don’t believe that.” Jason remarked, amused at your drunken talk. He’s never heard you so pouty, but also talking back to him with more spite.

“No, no,” You waved a finger in his face. Too close to his face, but the alcohol blurred your hand-eye coordination. “I’m a completely different person when I’m not with you.”

Jason’s ears perking up at the sudden confession.

You glanced at Jason, waving your hands to prove your point, eyes half-lidded, a slight glossiness to them.

“I’m a major perfectionist. I don’t allow myself to make mistakes. I try to calculate every little wrong move I could possibly make and find ways to handle each and every one.”

You took another sip. Jason sat up straighter, your sudden honesty causing him to look at you, really look at you. To dial into your expression, the subtle movements influenced from the alcohol and your eyes. You looked more relaxed, but sadness melted into your tone, into your body language.

“I had to be the best, to know the most, to constantly keep myself busy.” You looked off to the window behind Jason’s head. Losing yourself to your inner thoughts.

Jason waited, not wanting to interrupt. His intuition telling him that this was important, a rare vulnerable moment from you.

“You were the first person to see me completely ruined. I made so many mistakes in front of you. You made fun of my fuck ups and I was so shocked when you called me an ‘airhead.’” You loudly laughed, trying to cover up your somber feelings.

“I’ve never heard that in my life!” Your eyes crinkled from the wide smile on your face. “I was so angry at you, I thought, ‘Who’s this asshole!?’ But, despite all the teasing, I’ve never felt so relieved. I didn’t have to keep up an appearance with you. You accepted the bad version of me.”

You lazily leaned your head on the couch, the side of your face feeling the fabric. Facing Jason as you laid on your side. Jason followed after you, laying his head down too. He kept some distance between your faces, but his hand laid close to yours. He wouldn’t touch you, but he would keep his hand close.

Your face had frowned. Jason lazily smiled at your pouty look returning, wondering what you were going to say next..

“It felt suffocating when you left.” You confessed.

Jason’s eyes widened, smile disappearing.

“I was alone, trying to keep up my fake image.” Your voice got quiet. Suddenly aware of the heaviness of your words.

Jason faltered. The rawness of your voice catching him off guard.

“I missed you when you left me alone. I couldn’t handle this apartment. I was suffocating without you here.” Your eyes watered, your throat aching.

Your voice wobbled, but you mustered any self-control to blink the tears away.

Jason stared at you, his brain not fully comprehending watching your eyes water.

He had never seen you cry. So he was at a loss, speechless as his mouth opened to comfort you, but nothing came out.

You took a deep breath, gaining back control of yourself.

“But you came back. You’re here.” You closed your eyes, voice steadier, but foolishly believing that tears won’t fall if you don’t open your eyes.

Jason’s hand inched closer to yours. Cautiously about to touch your fingers.

“But it hurts. It hurts so much.” You weakly said.

His hand faltered, never reaching yours.

“I want so much. Too much.”

Jason’s hands clenched

“I didn’t know what was happening to me. I smiled every time you came into my thoughts.” Your tears building at the corners of your eyes. “I wondered if you smiled like I did. If I’m ever on your mind—”

“Don’t.” Jason interrupted, watching a lone tear fall from your eye, dropping onto the couch.

“I worry about you, your vigilante stuff, if you were hurting. That I wasn’t there.”

“Stop. Please.” Jason pressed his eyes shut, somehow thinking it would stop him from hearing your voice. So he wouldn’t have to look at the tears.

“But—but, I know better. I know you’re not mine. I can’t reach for you.” You slurred, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

You opened your eyes, tears still falling to the side of your face. You watched Jason, he was tense, eyes closed and his eyebrows pushed together.

“I can’t ask you to stop being Red Hood. I could never ask that of you.” You sniffed, softly whispering to him, afraid someone might over hear your well kept secrets. “I’ve dreamed of how happy you could be, but I know you wouldn’t trade your happiness for the cost of leaving other people alone, other people that you want to save. I can’t breathe knowing that I would be responsible for all your guilt. That I would selfishly keep you away from something greater.”

Jason’s expression weakened. His eyebrows relaxing, his frown not as prominent at your tender words.

“But I scared myself. I would be selfish.” You continued. “I would let you be mad at me for the rest of your life, for asking something so awful.”

Jason’s eyes opened, a sickening sad tenderness in his gaze.

“I would never be mad at you.” He whispered back, voice hoarse.

You couldn’t take it. You pressed your face into the cushion, trying to let as much of the tears disappear into the fabric. You stayed there for a moment before you looked back at Jason, your eyelashes covered in tears, the tip of your nose pink from the emotions.

“I believe that being next to you is the right thing for me,” You hesitated, “But I don’t think you want to be next to me.”

Jason winced. A prick in his chest at your words.

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you to tell me—it will ruin me.” You spoke through the fresh tears.

You lifted your hand from the bottom of the couch, reaching out to Jason’s face. He didn’t move away from you like he always did, he was so still, you thought maybe this was another fabrication you dreamed, but when your fingers landed on his cheek, it was soft. You flinched from him like you were touching a hot burner.

With increasing confidence that he might not pull away, you laid your fingers back on his face, softly tracing the edges of his scars. You were past your limit, but if this was possibly the last night that Jason came by after running your mouth, then you wanted at least this—this last goodbye, this last moment of Jason to yourself.

Jason didn’t say anything. He stayed still while you touched him, hands clenched, watching your eyes, your lips tremble, the lines of tears left on your face.

You took your time to memorize his features. To look at Jason. You wished he got mad at you, rejected your hand touching him, rejected your words, but he didn’t. He could’ve left whenever he wanted, not listening to your drunk self, but he was still laying here, facing you.

“I would have let you ruin me.” You whispered, so soft that you barely heard yourself.

You let go of Jason, clenching onto the couch cushion below your head. You closed your eyes, tired from the emotions, tired from the alcohol, tired from the thoughts of waking up tomorrow to everything you did.

Jason rubbed his cheek, where you touched him.

He stared at your vulnerable state, watching a single tear cling to your lashes.

He reached forward, ready to wipe your eyes, but he stopped. Hearing your quiet whimper as you turned your face to bury your head in your arms on the couch.

His hand dropped.

You tried to get yourself under control, but the tears wouldn’t stop. You sniffled, trying anything to steady the trembling and the uncontrollable breathing. A couple of deep breaths later, you lifted your head, feeling ready to apologize for everything that happened in your drunken state.

“Jay, I’m sor—“

He was gone.

The space he sat in was empty. No droop in the cushion where he leaned into.

You stilled, tears pausing, mindlessly staring, wondering if you had made up everything that happened.

You reached at the cushion, feeling at the threads, warmth still lingering.

You were calm. Too calm.

You glanced at the coffee table. No domino mask, but his glass was still there, completely full.

He left. He really left.

You curled into the couch, your sobbing muffled into the cushions. Grabbing the edges as you yelled at yourself.

“You idiot.” You pulled at your hair, crushing your hands into the cushions. “I fucked up—I really fucked up.” You threw a pillow, anger overtaking you.

“I can’t do anything right!” You cried into your hands.

Finally letting yourself release the cries you’ve been pushing down.

The high from the anger died out quickly, your shoulders drooping. Your sobs drowning into quiet muffles. You legs aching from sitting on the floor, your eyes hurting from too many tears.

You quieted down.

Your hands falling from your face to your lap, emptily looking at the crevices of your hands.

“This is the one mistake I should’ve kept hidden from you.” You trembled, speaking into the emptiness of your living room.

Jason sat outside your window, out of sight as he listened.

#jason todd x reader #writing #jason todd

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stevie-petey · 7 months ago

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episode two: the mall rats

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.” “Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be. It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Summary: dreams are weird, billy is a hitchhiker, and hopper flirts with joyce in front of you (youre not sure which is scarier), somehow robin knows russian and has genius ears, you get caught in an awkward breakup showdown, and you shamefully are shocked when you discover that hawkins is anything but normal. you would think youd be a pro at this already, but at least steve is hot and really good at sneaking through windows.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, allusions to violence, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 13.2k

Before you swing in: hello !!! new chapter, i am so sorry for the wait :/ the end of the semester has been killer and ive been super busy with my lab job (i present at a conference friday ... pray for me). heres chapter 2, she somehow ended up being 13k words but lets ignore that for my own sanity !

There are dandelions all around you.

Their puffs of white surround you as the seeds dance in the air and settle atop of your head and tickle your cheek. They’re soft, reminiscent of the snow that encases you every winter in Hawkins and the days you used to chase Jonathan around in his backyard.

You’re barefoot in a field that you can’t quite place. The grass below you skims against your ankles as the dandelion seeds float towards the tops of the green. It’s a familiar landscape, something tells you that you’ve been here before, and the thought is almost reassuring to you.

The sun is warm against you and there’s someone in the distance. You open your mouth to call out to them, they feel as familiar as the landscape before you does, but when you try to speak, the dandelion seeds begin to swarm into your mouth. The puffs of white seem to turn into daggers in your throat as they cut your tongue and slice inside you as you struggle to breathe.

You try to scream, but nothing comes out. The dandelions now draw blood as they continue their malicious attack on you. You claw at your mouth and cower in the field, trying to flee from what’s attacking you, but the dandelions only follow as you try to call after the figure you saw in the distance.

Stumbling blindly through the grass, panic stricken and longing for the person who had once been at the top of the hill, your foot catches on a root and suddenly you’re falling. This time, you do scream, and the dandelion seeds spill from your mouth as you fall into an endless abyss.

“Y/N!” Your eyes fly open and your body shoots from your bed; you almost head butt Dustin in the process. He flinches back, startled by your violent reaction, and he puts his hands up in surrender and backs away. “Geesh, I was just trying to wake you up.”

It takes you a few moments to process that you are, in fact, awake. Your heartbeat is still pounding rapidly in your throat. You can still feel the dandelion seeds on your tongue and the millions of little cuts they left behind.

Dustin stares at you with slight concern in his eyes and you clear your throat, trying to rid the memory of your dream. That’s all it was. A dream.

Clearing your throat again, you try to calm yourself down. “Why are you in my room?”

“Like I said, I was trying to wake you up.” Your brother says as if you’re an idiot.

“But why?”

“Did you bang your head or something last night?” He gives you an odd look and you glare at him. “Cerebro caught a Russian code, remember? You promised we’d see Steve today to talk about it!”

You rub your eyes, exhausted. It’s taking longer than usual for your mind to wake up and process everything. “I know, I know… What time is it?”

“Eight, now get up and go get pretty for Steve so we can discuss how to become American heroes.” Dustin crosses his arms, silently daring you to argue.

“There was so much wrong with that sentence,” you groan, but reluctantly throw your blankets off of you and start pulling out random shorts and a t-shirt to wear. “You’re lucky it’s the weekend and I don’t work today.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Dustin mocks you, tossing you a white t-shirt and removing the red one from your hands. “Steve likes you in white, now hurry up.”

Your mouth drops in shock, but your brother simply rolls his eyes at you and leaves your room so that you can get dressed.

“How does he even know that?” You whisper to yourself, now alone in your room.

–

Dustin bikes ahead of you as you make your way to Joyce’s store in Downtown Hawkins. He had complained when you told him that you needed to make a pitstop there before going to the mall.

“I haven’t seen Steve in a month!”

“And Mrs. Byers is close to losing her job at Melvald’s, so you can wait the extra five minute detour it takes to deliver her muffins to cheer her up.”

Your brother had tried to argue some more, but you simply shoved a fresh baked muffin in his mouth and began to bike away.

Now, as the two of you head towards Downtown, the early morning air fills your lungs and slowly wakes you up. It’s quiet, Hawkins isn’t quite awake yet in the early hour. Only the bees buzzing past your ear seem to be lively.

You watch Dustin up ahead and briefly marvel at how much bigger he seems to have gotten in the month he was away at camp. He looks older, more mature, no longer the baby brother your mom brought home fourteen years ago.

As you’re lost in your reminiscence, you almost miss the figure that stumbles along the side of the road.

“Dustin!” You yell at the boy, weary of whoever is up ahead. “Stop!”

He hears the fear in your voice and screeches his bike to a halt. Turning around, he checks to make sure you’re okay. “Did something happen?”

You stop next to him and discreetly point at the figure a few yards away. It seems to be a boy, maybe a teen your age, but he’s walking as if he’s in immense pain. “You see that?”

“Yeah,” Dustin squints and also seems unnerved by the person’s appearance. “Think it’s anything dangerous?”

“I don’t know…” Something feels familiar about the person. Their hair, the way it’s styled, reminds you of someone. You squint as well, your eyes catch on the person’s leather jacket and the expensive brand, there’s a faint outline of cigarettes in the pocket, and the sight fills your nose with the smoke that once choked you last winter. “I think it’s Billy.”

“Why is he walking on the side of the road?” Dustin makes a face. “I know he has a car, the bastard almost ran me and the party over on Halloween.”

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to understand why you feel this tug within you to get closer to the teen. Billy is cruel, he is horrible, and the bruises he left on your neck took weeks to fully fade away. Yet there’s a concern within you as you watch him stumble, as if in some daze, and it's this worry that solidifies your decision. “Stay here.”

“What–” Dustin turns and sees that you’ve gotten back on your bike and are now pedaling towards Billy. “Y/N! Are you insane?”

“Stay here!” You order, not really understanding why you’re doing this either. “Just… Wait for my signal!”

Dustin curses, not at all liking this plan, but he listens. He tightens his grip on his bike’s handlebar and makes sure you never leave his line of sight in case you need him for backup.

As you approach Billy, you make sure to circle widely around him so that he sees you coming, before finally facing in front of him. You brake a few feet away from him, incredibly nervous for how he may react. You haven’t spoken to him since last winter, he had kept his promise to Max to leave you alone.

Billy barely seems to register that you’re in front of him. He stops as if he’s in a trance and blinks slowly at you. You notice the cut on his forehead, how there’s still fresh blood dripping from it, and something within you wants to tend to the wound. Then you notice the grime that covers his face and his jacket, and you begin to worry even more.

As you’re eying his disheveled appearance, Billy opens his mouth, and the action looks as if it takes all the energy within him to do so. “S–sweetheart?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore the nickname he gave you that makes your skin crawl. You’re more worried about his appearance. He’s sweating like crazy, almost as if he’s on drugs, and he’s paler than normal. His California tan is gone, his eyes are glazed over, he looks as if he isn’t really here with you right now.

It scares you. You’ve never seen him like this.

“‘M fine,” Billy slurs. He seems… off. More drawn into himself now, less sure of himself. Scared, even. It’s a strange sight to see: Billy Hargrove, alone and frightened, in the early morning of June. “I… I’m fine.”

His slurred words aren’t reassuring, and a part of you wants to offer him a ride on your bike. You assume he’s heading to the local pool to lifeguard, you know it’s where he spends most of his days, but you have Dustin with you and you’re still nervous around Billy.

The wounds he gave you may have healed, but some nights, when the nightmares are really bad, you wake up to his hands around your throat.

It feels wrong just leaving Billy like this, though. He’s still human, Max has slowly opened up to you about her abusive stepdad and the way he punches her brother. You know that Billy’s actions come from his hurt, but you don’t think you’re ready yet to forgive him. Not now, at least.

Reluctantly, you sigh and wave your hand to indicate to Dustin that he’s fine to start biking over. Billy doesn’t seem like a threat right now in his current state. When you see your brother start to pedal closer, you look back at Billy. “Listen, I know we aren’t… friends.”

Billy stares blankly at you, and you really hope that he can understand what you’re saying right now.

“But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?” You tell him, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm as you speak. However, when your skin makes contact with his, you flinch at how cold he is.

Before you can say anything else, Dustin finally catches up and brakes softly next to you. He looks nervously between you and Billy. “So… Uh. Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yeah…” You pull away from Billy, your fingers almost numb from his cold skin, and spare him one last glance as you start to bike away. “Remember what I said, okay?”

Billy doesn’t say anything.

You and Dustin leave him stranded on the side of the road.

Neither one of you talk about this.

–

As usual, Downtown Hawkins is deserted when you and Dustin arrive at Melvald’s. The only two cars parked in front of the rundown store belong to Joyce and Hopper.

You hop off your bike and park it in the bike rack before carefully untying the container of muffins from the back. Dustin is slumped on top of his bike, silently complaining, and you wave a stern finger at him. “Wait here, okay? This will only take five minutes, I promise.”

“I’m telling Steve that you’re cheating on him with Mrs. Byers.”

“Not cheating if we aren’t together,” you quip, before opening the door to the store.

When you step inside the store, you’re greeted with Hopper obnoxiously yelling and jumping around as Joyce laughs and claps for him. Curious, you carefully side step the grown man and make your way over to the woman.

“Y/N!” Joyce lights up even more when she sees you, and then lets out a small cheer when she sees that you’re holding one of your signature baked goods containers. “Are those for me?”

“Always, Mrs. Byers.” You grin at her and set the container down. “They’re the muffins you really liked last week, thought I’d bake a special batch just for you.”

Hopper now joins you at the store’s counter in front of Joyce. He’s practically vibrating with his excited energy, so much so that he even smiles at you and claps a hand behind your back. “Kid, it’s like you knew we’d be celebrating a monumental occasion today.”

“What, did Jonathan finally wash his bedsheets?”

Joyce shakes her head and Hopper claps again, now grasping your shoulders and shakes you around. “No, even better! I got Mike out of my house!”

Through Joyce, you had learned all about Hopper’s utter disdain of Mike’s relationship with El. He has spent every day at their cabin since getting together, and even you have had to pry the girl away from Mike a few times to hang out with her. It’s hard bonding with El when Mike is breathing down your neck.

You’re all for young love, you think they’re adorable together, but christ. You understand Hopper’s frustration.

“Actually,” you’re still being shaken by the man. “That does sound better. How’d ya do it?”

Hearing your question, Hopper thankfully stops shaking your shoulders and now happily points at Joyce. “It was all her. I’m the puppet, she’s the master. Joyce gave me a brilliant script to say to the kid.”

“So you remembered everything?” Joyce asks, now unwrapping one of your muffins with glee.

“Yeah… well,” Hopper pauses. “I mean, I had to improvise a little bit, you know?”

You wince. “Oh, that’s never good.”

He glares at you but continues to explain. “It turns out that getting to Mike was the key.”

His words only make you wince again, and you look at Joyce. She meets your eye and the two of you silently agree that something doesn’t sound right here. She questions Hopper further. “And you didn’t yell at him?”

Hopper hesitates, which you expected. “I’ll… tell you everything over dinner.”

“Okay!” You step in between the adults and wave your arms out, preventing whatever else is about to be said. “I’m still here, let’s remember that.”

The chief glares at you again and narrows his eyes. “You’re right, you are still here. Why are you still here?”

“Because Mrs. Byers loves me and I baked her delicious muffins.” You deadpan, which Joyce chuckles at. “And while I’m sure whatever she told you to say to Mike was lovely, I have my doubts that you actually listened.”

“She’s got a point, Hop.” Joyce voices.

Hopper sighs at you both. “Okay, maybe I said some things, haven’t told El the whole truth, but what else was I supposed to do?”

“Not lie to kids?” Crossing your arms, you make a face at the man.

“Easy for you to say, little miss Hawkins’ sweetheart.” Hopper scoffs at you. “Got any better advice?”

You roll your eyes at his words. You understand that the man is still grappling with being a father again, he’s never been one to handle feelings any better, so you spare him some pity and try to be honest with him, say what he needs to hear. “Look, all I’m saying is that the best thing my deadbeat father ever did was teach me kindness, and it broke my heart when he was dishonest in the end. Just, don’t be that way with El, okay?”

Hopper is quiet as your words hang in the air.

Joyce is quiet as well, looking between you and the chief with a fondness in her eyes. It’s not often she sees someone render Hopper speechless, and she knows that it’s one of the many things she loves the most about your relationship with him. Though she would never tell you this, she thinks that Hopper secretly has his own fondness for you as well.

When the silence stretches for an uncomfortably long amount of time, you clear your throat and change the subject. “Well! This was fun, happy we did this.”

Hopper snorts, relieved you’re moving on as well. “Get lost, kid.”

“Gladly.” You turn back to Joyce and press a swift kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you later, Mrs. Byers!”

Joyce says goodbye as well, and when you’ve left the store, she faces Hopper with a slight smirk. “She’s a good kid, Hop.”

“She is,” he agrees, looking down at his shoes. He will never admit this to anyone else, but to Joyce he knows his words are safe. “She’s the best of ‘em.”

–

When you finally get to the mall, Dustin basically dumps his bike in a spot next to a disgruntled older couple and runs before you can even slow down. He’s so lost in his excitement to see Steve as he runs towards Scoops and leaves you to deal with his bike and the couple alone, which you groan at.

“He acts like it’s been a year,” you grumble, finally hopping off your own bike to grab Dustin’s and secure them both to a nearby rack. After mumbling a quick apology to the couple your brother practically threw a bike at, you run after him inside.

By the time you catch up, Dustin has just entered Scoops and is talking to Robin. You approach, curious to see how this event will unfold. Robin hasn’t met your brother yet, and you have a feeling that his abrasive nature will either make her his biggest fan or absolutely hate him.

It’s the Henderson charm, really.

“I’m Dustin,” your brother introduces himself as you come to stand next to him. When he notices your arrival, he motions towards you and winks at Robin. “I’m sure Y/N has told you all about me.”

Robin raises her eyebrows at the kid, and you try to cover a giggle with a cough. “I’m Robin. I’m sure Y/N has told you a lot about me.”

“I probably have,” shrug, knowing you always talk about the people you love. When Robin and Dustin both look at you with confused faces, you quickly clarify, “I’ve talked about you both, I mean.”

“Can we cut the chit chat?” Dustin asks, now annoyed by how long this conversation is taking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Robin, but uh. Is he here?”

“Is who here?” Robin looks over at you for help, but before you can prepare her for the inevitable storm of Steve’s bizarre and endearing friendship with Dustin, the older teen’s body comes crashing through the backdoor and his sneakers squeak loudly against the tile.

“Hendersons!” Steve raises his arms in the air in greeting, an ecstatic smile on his face when he sees both you and Dustin standing in Scoops Ahoy. You and your brother start to laugh as Steve now dances around, cheering and gleeful. “You’re both here! Little Henderson is back!”

“I’m back!” Dustin cheers. “And you got the job!”

Steve is beaming and his smile is probably one of the happiest you’ve seen cross his pretty face. He had complained about missing Dustin the entire month he had been gone, moaning and groaning about how he was bored at your house now that he didn’t have Dustin to shoo away.

“I got the job!” Steve mimes playing the trumpet before he starts his intricate and dumb handshake with Dustin.

It’s a complicated process, with fist bumps and pretend lightsaber death. They had come up with it during a particularly boring snow day at your house. You watched as they thought up the handshake while you made cocoa for everyone, heart swelling as Steve was so patient with your brother and encouraged his nerdy little habits.

It had taken them almost the entire day to create what they deemed “the perfect handshake”, and as they go through it once more in Scoops Ahoy, you feel the same swelling in your chest as you did the very first time you saw them come up with the handshake.

While you gaze fondly at Dustin and Steve, Robin stands next to you and watches in horror. As Steve pretends to spew his guts everywhere, the girl leans over to you and says, “Is this what you deal with every day?”

“Yeah,” you can’t help but smile softly at the two boys. You missed seeing them together, more than you thought you had.

Robin sees the dreamy look in your eyes as you stare at Steve and she gags. Unhappy with how this day is looking, she turns to him. “How many children are you friends with?”

Steve’s smile falls and he sighs in defeat. Wordlessly he points at Robin as he looks at Dustin and raises his eyebrows in an exasperated manner. He’s had to deal with Robin’s teasing all summer, and Dustin seems to catch onto what he’s trying to tell him, so he quickly changes the subject. “Sorry we got here so late, man. Y/N insisted on gossiping with Mrs. Byers before coming here.”

“I spoke with her for five minutes.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Yeah, five minutes too long.”

“Your breath reeks.”

“You have a pimple on your chin.”

You gasp and quickly cover your face. “I do not–”

“This is fascinating,” Robin whispers as she looks between you and Dustin. “It’s like there’s two Y/Ns.”

Steve, having heard Robin, laughs. His smile had returned to his face as he watched you interact with your brother. “They’re reunited for one day and are already at each other’s throats.”

“Got a month of insults to catch up on,” you flick Steve, who winces and rubs his nose, offended.

Dustin suddenly straightens up. “Speaking of catching up…” He looks at you and tries to subtly motion over at Steve, mouthing “Russians!”, and being everything but discrete.

Steve frowns, unsure what’s happening, but you’re too busy worrying about revealing anything to Robin; she’s scarily good at reading people. Looking wearily at her, you clear your throat and tug at Dustin’s shirt. “C’mon, why don’t we get some ice cream and tell Steve about what you built at camp?”

Again Steve frowns. He had been hoping to share a sundae with you, not talk about boring science stuff with your brother. “Why do I wanna hear about some weird nerd tech–”

“Because you promised me free ice cream last night, when we called.” You interrupt, silently pleading with him to catch onto what you’re saying. “Remember?”

Something shifts within Steve’s eyes and his carefree expression now darkens. He remembers the fear in your voice last night over the phone, how you had asked him to tell you stories to fall asleep to. Clearing his throat, Steve nods and plays along. “Oh, how could I forget? Take Dustin to your booth and I’ll whip up some sundaes.”

You smile at him, thankful as always for how attuned to you he is, before you say a quick goodbye to Robin and tug your brother over to where you normally sit. Once you’re sure Robin isn’t listening, you yank at the boy. “Real subtle back there, doofus.”

“Oh, like Robin would know what Russians could mean.” Dustin grumbles as he slides into your designated booth. His hand catches on something in the seat and he tugs at it, pulling out an old Captain America comic. Holding it up, he narrows his eyes at you. “You really made a home here, huh?”

“Sure did,” you prop your feet up and dig out the Spider-Man comic you had been reading a few days ago. “The ice cream is surprisingly good here.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the ice cream is the reason you’re always here.” Dustin doesn’t even want to imagine how many hours you’ve spent in this cheesy ice cream parlor ogling over Steve. Maybe it’s a good thing he was gone most of the summer.

You flip to the last page you left off on and ignore Dustin’s insinuation. “Hey, free ice cream is free ice cream.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Steve arrives and places down two giant sundaes onto the table. He slides next to you into the booth with a grand flourish. “Tada!”

Dustin wastes no time digging into his ice cream, making obnoxious noises as he shoves the food into his mouth. You cringe, disgusted that you’re related to him, but Steve kisses your cheek when the kid isn’t looking, and you can’t help but smile. Sneaking your own kiss to his cheek, you thank him. “You’re getting really good at whipping up sundaes, Steve.”

He preens at your praise. “It’s all in the forearms, ya know?” He makes a show out of rolling up his sleeves to show off his arms, which you giggle at with a slight flush on your face. Despite working inside all day, Steve has a nice sun kissed tan, which compliments how long his hair has gotten this summer.

Between his short Scoops Ahoy shorts and his hair streaked with sunlight, summer looks good on Steve.

In between bites of his ice cream, Dustin lifts his head up. “Quit talking about Steve’s arms and flirting in front of me, it’s gross.”

You fling a banana peel at him. “You’re the one too busy devouring his food to talk about anything else.”

“So you admit you’re flirting with me.” Steve teases, winking at you.

Dustin covers his eyes in disgust, forgetting about his ice cream entirely. “Seriously, stop it! You’re my sister, how would you feel if I flirted with Suzie in front of you?”

“I would–” You try to think of a response, but ultimately you deflate, unable to come up with anything. Frustratingly, you realize that the kid has a point; you’d be incredibly grossed out as well. “I would hate it.” You sigh, accepting defeat.

“Who’s Suzie?” Steve asks.

“Dustin’s girlfriend.” You say, popping a cherry into your mouth as you eagerly await the teen’s reaction to the girlfriend news.

As expected, Steve’s jaw drops and turns to your brother. No way the little twerp got a girlfriend before him this summer. “Girlfriend? Since when?”

“Met her at camp,” Dustin smirks at him, proud he’s surprised Steve. “She’s super hot, too. Hotter than Phoebe Cates.”

You roll your eyes at his insistence of referencing Suzie’s appearance, but Steve seems interested, although in disbelief as well. “No, no way. Hotter than Phoebe Cates? No.”

“Why is Phoebe Cates the gold standard?” You ask, unsure when she became everyone’s dream woman. All things considered, she’s incredibly attractive, but it’s weird that every boy you’ve spoken to about this universally finds her attractive. Steve finds her attractive, which you’re choosing not to think about because you don’t look anything like her.

Steve hears the slight bitterness in your tone and shuffles closer to you in the booth. Meanwhile, Dustin takes another bite out of his sundae and nods at him. “Mhm, she’s brilliant, too. She doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still coming in.”

“That’s great, Dustin!” You say, happy that your brother has found a girl who accepts him as he is. It’s sweet, really.

“I know, right?” He sits up straighter in the booth and smiles even wider. “She says kissing is better without teeth.”

You and Steve share a horrified look. Neither of you can believe what you’ve just heard, and you think a part of you died inside. Suddenly, the delicious sundae you’d been eating now turns to cement in your stomach at the thought of your little brother kissing a girl who enjoys his lack of teeth. “Oh, that’s… Yeah.”

“Wow!” Steve tries to mask his own horror and disgust, leaning even closer to you now to try and ground you as well. “Yeah, that’s… That’s great! Proud of you, man. That’s–That’s kinda romantic?”

Dustin basks in Steve’s praise and your disgust slowly melts away. Your brother genuinely seems happy to be with Suzie and even happier to tell Steve about it all. He won’t admit it, but you know he idolizes the teen. Steve’s word is like an oath to him, not even you have this much influence over the boy. If it were anyone else, you’d be offended and hurt, but seeing Steve flash Dustin a wink, you couldn’t have chosen anyone better for your brother to admire.

“So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?” Dustin motions towards his half-eaten sundae before turning to you. “How much ice cream have you had this summer?”

“A lot,” you shrug, taking another bite of your own sundae.

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.”

“Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be.

It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Robin, from across the parlor, sees your sudden annoyance at Steve and calls out to him, “Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”

“Ignore her,” Steve groans, not having the energy to deal with Robin’s quips and your anger being directed at him. He turns to you and lowers his voice. “I was kidding, Y/N. You know that–”

“Robin seems cool,” Dustin interrupts, not at all wanting to witness a lover’s feud between you and Steve. He left you two alone for a month, he thought he’d come back to you guys being an old married couple. Instead, he still has to suffer through your weird in between chaos.

You jump at the chance to gush about Robin, all while avoiding Steve’s pleading eyes. “She’s amazing. Genuinely one of the coolest people I know.”

“She’s not.” Steve corrects you, shaking his head. You roll your eyes at him and flick his ear, but as your hand lowers, he catches it with his and intertwines your fingers with a practiced ease. The action makes you blush and look away, still not ready to forgive him just yet. Steve sees the blush and feels your fingers tighten around his and he feels as if he can breathe again. There’s hope, at least. “So, where are the other knuckleheads?”

Dustin sighs. “They ditched me yesterday.”

“No,” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Y/N, did they really?”

“They… Kinda did.” You wince, absentmindedly placing your other hand on top of the one Steve is holding. He smiles softly at the action, momentarily forgetting about what you've just told him.

“My first day back! Can you believe that shit?” Dustin’s hurt from last night returns, which only makes you feel worse.

Steve leans forward now, invested and equally as offended as the boy. “Seriously?”

“I swear to god,” Dustin pauses to take another bite of ice cream. “They’re gonna regret it, though, big time, when they don’t get to share in my glory.”

You drop your head onto the table and groan. “Is this really how you’re going to segue into the Russian thing?”

“You’re my sister. Why would you expect anything less of me?”

“Touche.” You lift your head back up and continue eating your ice cream. It’s the only thing keeping you going right now. Steve has learned how to make your sundaes perfect, adding the peach ice cream you adore with just the right amount of whipped cream.

Meanwhile, Steve has a confused look on his face as he looks between you and Dustin. “Glory? Russians? Did I miss something?”

Dustin smiles mischievously and lowers his voice as he slides closer to the teen. You roll your eyes at his antics, knowing that the conversation that’s about to unfold will only give you another headache. You missed Steve and Dustin being together, but you didn’t miss the way they seemed to double in stupidity when together.

Looking around to make sure he won’t be heard, Dustin begins to explain. “So, last night, as Y/N and I were trying to get in contact with Suzie…” He pauses, sees that Scoops Ahoy is now filling with more customers, and lowers his voice even more to an almost inaudible whisper and covers his mouth.

You and Steve both lean forward, unable to hear him. The teen asks Dustin to repeat himself while you sit there with slight amazement. You know what Dustin is trying to say, you’re more just surprised the kid can be so quiet. It’s a goddamn miracle, honestly.

Dustin inhales deeply and again tries to discreetly inform Steve of the Russian code, but his whispers are still too low to hear. Taking a final bite of your ice cream, you click your tongue at your brother. “You’re really killing it there, buddy.”

“Dude, just speak louder.” Steve’s curious interest is now more of an annoyance.

“I intercepted a secret Russian communication!” Dustin all but shouts, which causes you to practically throw yourself over the table to cover his mouth.

“Jesus fuck!” You look around and see everyone’s eyes on you, and with your hand still clamped firmly over your brother’s mouth, you clear your throat and laugh nervously. “I mean, haha. Pardon me.” The customers give you a weird look but turn away, though Robin continues to stare at you.

Steve gently removes your hand from Dustin’s mouth and once again intertwines his fingers with yours. “Jeez, okay. Yeah. That’s what I thought you said.”

“Did you have to yell?” You sneer at Dustin, still looking around nervously to make sure no one is paying too much attention to the three of you. While Hawkin’s Lab was overrun by Demodogs and every scientist within it died, you’re still terrified that they still have allies watching your every move.

Not that you think the Lab is responsible for Russians, but… Better safe than sorry.

Dustin rolls his eyes at you. “Your boyfriend is the one who couldn’t hear me.”

You’re about to correct him when Steve waves the boy off and goes back to the main topic. “What does any of that mean, though? The Russian code and whatever.”

“It means that we can never catch a break–”

“It means, Steve,” Dustin sends you a dirty look. “That we could be heroes. True American heroes.”

Steve seems into the idea and you want to scream. You hate the way Dustin is explaining all of this. “This could mean danger, guys.”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you and Steve smiles wearily. “I don’t know, Y/N. It doesn’t seem so bad, ya know? We’ve fought Demodogs, how bad could some Russians be?”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes. “The Demodogs were created by shifty government facilities. Why are we assuming Russia doesn’t have their own?”

“But… American heroes.” Steve looks heartbreakingly pathetic as he says this, and you realize now that his fixation on being seen as some hero stems from the hurt he still feels over his father. He hadn’t turned into who had expected to become, something that you know his father reminds him of every time he comes back from some business trip. You wish you could convince Steve that he’s more than what his father could ever expect him to be, but you know he wouldn’t listen.

With Steve’s pleading eyes looking at you, lost and hopeless, you can’t argue with him. Sighing, you accept that this is something he has to take part in, if only to rebuild his crumbling confidence. “Tell him what you’re thinking, Dustin.”

“Gladly.” Your brother wastes no time diving in, once more eager and excited to have the attention on him, and it’s only now that you realize he’s doing this for the same reason Steve is: they both feel abandoned and hurt. “We need your help.”

“With what?”

Dustin digs through his backpack and takes out the Russian dictionary he made you steal from work. He holds it up and shows it to Steve. “Translation.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he grabs the book to inspect it. There’s a new spark in his eyes, one that died the day his father told him he wouldn’t attend his graduation. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” you exhale and slump in your seat. There’s no going back now. “I just want you both to know that I hate this plan and your excitement over it, but if I don’t help then you guys will somehow end up in a Russian gulag, and that would just be on me.”

Steve shares a look with Dustin, whose sigh reflects your own. “Glad you have faith in us, Y/N.”

–

It’s Steve's idea to work on the translation in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, and neither you or Dustin argue. Technically, he’s the only one who has any real responsibilities today with work and all, so it makes sense to stay at Scoops and hide out there.

Dustin sits at the table next to you as he replays the tape recording over and over again. Steve paces the room and eats a banana, claiming he needed “brain food” to focus on the complex Russian language. You sit with your head in your hands, trying desperately to hold onto the bizarre language that floats around the room.

After his tenth time replaying the code, Dustin pauses the recording and looks at you and Steve. “So, what do you guys think?”

“It sounded familiar.” Steve shoves a piece of banana into his mouth. You cringe at the obscene amount of food he tries to chew at once. Seeing your disgust, Steve waves the banana in your face and asks with a mouthful of food, “Wan sum?”

“It’s like you want me to hate you today,” you slap the banana away, which he chuckles at.

Dustin gets both of your attention again with slight annoyance. He didn’t miss the weird flirting between the two of you at all. “Guys, focus. What do you mean the recording sounds familiar?”

“The music,” Steve still speaks with his mouth full. “The music right there at the end.”

“Why are you listening to the music, Steve?” Dustin exclaims, exasperated.

As your brother berates Steve for his lack of Russian translating, you sit up in your seat processing what he’s just previously said. While you hadn’t thought much of it before, now that Steve has pointed it out, the music does sound familiar. You swear you’ve heard it somewhere before, but you can’t remember where or when. It’s a hazy memory, distant in your mind, yet right in front of you. It’s incredibly frustrating.

“I think Steve is onto something,” you say, but the two boys are too busy fighting to hear you.

“I’m trying to listen to the Russian but there’s music–”

Suddenly the back door swings open and Robin appears. She looks agitated after having to man the cash register all by herself while Steve hides out in the breakroom. “Alright, babysitting time is over. You need to get in there.” When she sees that you’ve erased her whiteboard and replaced her “you suck” columns with the Russian alphabet, her agitation only increases. “Hey, my board! That was important data, shitbirds.”

You get up from the table and walk up to the girl, feeling bad. While you aren’t sure what exactly her “you suck” column and tallies were for, it had been her creation that you had erased without thinking to ask. Plus, you really don’t want her seeing the Russian dictionary on the table. “I’m sorry, Robin–”

“Not you, Y/N. You’re not a shitbird,” she points over to Steve and Dustin. “Those two are shitbirds.”

“I guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data.” Dustin interjects, a smug look on his face that makes you want to scream. He isn’t at all helping the situation.

Robin begins to walk over to the boys and you reluctantly follow. “Yeah? And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyways?”

Dustin’s jaw drops and Steve almost chokes on his banana. Seeing their stunned reactions of Robin having figured out what you’ve been doing, you sigh in disappointment. They’re such idiots sometimes. They wrote Russian on the whiteboard, out in the open, and have been playing the recording out loud, full volume, on repeat.

Of course Robin caught onto what you were doing.

Which only makes your nervous body tense up even more. You hate that you have to lie to her, you’ve become really close with her during your visits to Scoops, but you don’t want to drag her into anything dangerous. You’re not sure what exactly any of this Russian code means, but Robin has been nothing but kind to you this summer, you truly care about her, and it would kill you if something were to happen because of you.

So, despite knowing how smart Robin is, you try to think of a cover story. “We were just interested in the language. Ya know, a summer hobby.”

“I can hear everything, Y/N.” Robin sees right through your lies. “Your idiotic brother and boyfriend are both extremely loud.”

“Steve isn’t my boyfriend–”

“You three think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape and you’re trying to translate, but haven’t figured out a word because you didn’t realize Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do.”

You, Steve, and Dustin all look at one another in varying degrees of awe and despair.

Robin, seeing your stunned faces, smiles. “Sound about right?”

“How could you not know about the Russian alphabet, Y/N?” Dustin angrily whispers at you as if somehow it’s your responsibility to know the ins-and-outs of the language.

“Why would I–you know what, no.” You ignore your brother and turn to Robin, trying to alleviate the situation and prevent her from finding out anything else. She’s too fucking smart, it’s both admirable and aggravating. “Look, whatever you think you heard–”

Suddenly Robin lunges for the Russian dictionary on the table, but Steve’s quick reflexes enable him to grab the book before she can. “Woah! What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanna hear it.” She juts her chin out in defiance, though you see the slightly hurt expression she tries to mask. She hates that you’re purposely excluding her and taking Steve’s side in this.

You wish you could tell her the truth.

“Why?” You ask in unison alongside Steve and Dustin.

“Because maybe I can help. I’m fluent in four languages, ya know.”

Dustin perks up, now more open to the idea of Robin’s involvement. “Russian?”

“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.”

Steve and Dustin gasp, believing that they’ve just heard Robin say something in Russian, but you know better. One summer, when the party had been especially nosy and insisted on following you and Jonathan around, the two of you had learned pig latin in order to communicate without the twerps eavesdropping.

Learning against the table, you smirk at Robin. “Osay ouyay owknay igpay atinlay.”

“Holy shit!” Dustin gasps and Steve almost falls over with how quickly he looks at you in shock. Both boys stare at you in awe and you almost feel bad for their tiny little brains.

Robin can’t help but smile at you, you somehow always manage to surprise her. “Impressive, Y/N. Didn’t think you knew pig latin either.”

“That was pig latin?” Steve scrunches his face and hits your brother with his banana peel. “Idiot.”

“Steve, please don’t hit my brother with banana peels,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. It’s only noon and you’re already exhausted from today’s events. “But yes, that was pig latin.”

Dustin shoves Steve away from him and focuses on you again. “When did you learn pig latin?”

“The summer you and the party decided to stalk me and Jonathan.” You shrug, though you smile fondly at the memory. It had been a good summer, just the two of you holed up in your room as you quizzed each other on the bizarre language.

Steve, seeing your fondness at the memory, frowns. He doesn’t like the uncomfortable heat that he feels ignite within his stomach at the thought of you still being so fond over Jonathan. He trusts you, he trusts what you have, but he will never feel equal to him.

Robin notices Steve’s brewing insecurity and quickly changes the subject. She doesn’t have time for the usual hormonal drama between the two of you. All she wants right now is to decipher the Russian so that she can catch a break from Erica and her demanding need to try every free sample ever. “Back to the main point: I can speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I’ve been in band for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.”

You bite your lip. Truthfully, Robin has the highest chance of unraveling whatever the hell is in the recording. You’re horrible with languages, high school Spanish had nearly killed you, and Steve and Dustin stand no better chance. “Robin…”

“Come on,” she begs. “It’s Steve's turn to sling ice cream and my turn to translate.”

Steve and Dustin turn to you, unanimously agreeing that you’re the leader in this situation; whatever call you make, they’ll listen. Robin sees the conflict on your face and tries one last time. “I don’t even want credit. I’m just bored and wanna hang out with you.”

Your head spins. Robin’s pleading eyes are hard to fight against and you realize that she already knows more than you’d want her to; she’s already a part of it all, whether you like it or not. Sighing, you give in. “Fine, but only if you promise not to ask any questions about whatever we may find.”

“What would I even question?” She asks, unsure why your tone is more foreboding than accepting.

You share a look with Steve and Dustin. The three of you know just how quickly something simple can spiral into chaos in Hawkins. “Just… promise me, okay?”

Robin extends her hand, just happy to finally have something better to do. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

After you shake her hand, she tosses her ice cream scoop to Steve and he hands her the Russian dictionary. Seeing the exchange sends a slight shiver down your spine. You don’t like how much it feels like you’ve just signed Robin’s life away.

–

True to her word, Robin’s ears are little geniuses.

With her helping, you and Dustin are able to speed through the translating as Steve works the register. You’re tasked with writing down the letters that Dustin calls from the whiteboard as Robin listens to the tape over and over again.

“Weird ‘r’ with a hook!” Your brother declares for the last letter.

You write it down and can’t help but frown at the message you’ve seemingly deciphered. Showing the writing to Robin, you ask what she thinks. “Are you sure it was that weird ‘r’ sound?”

“I’m positive,” she says. “C’mon, let’s go tell Steve.”

“Are we sure–” You try to ask her again, but Robin has already made her way to the sliding window and gets Steve’s attention.

“We’ve got our first sentence!”

You make your way over and lean against the window as well. Steve, holding two ice cream cones, seems excited by the news. “Oh, seriously?”

“It’s a hesitant first sentence.” You butt in, still unsure if it’s even correct.

Robin rolls her eyes at you. “Ignore her, I’m right.” Then, clearing her throat, she does an impressive Russian accent. “‘The week is long’.”

Steve’s shoulders slump, clearly having expected something better. “Well that’s thrilling.”

“Told you it was a hesitant first sentence.” Then you turn to Robin. “Nice accent, by the way.”

“Why thank you,” she tips her hat at you before focusing back on Steve. “And I know it isn’t thrilling, but it’s progress!”

And with that, Robin spins around and goes back to the table in the breakroom, eager to decipher more of the code. You’re about to kiss Steve’s cheek and say goodbye, but then your eyes land on a familiar red-haired girl and her friend standing in front of the register. You look down at the ice cream in Steve’s hands and note the familiar order you’ve come to memorize since the mall opened.

“Max? El?” You lean further out the window, pleasantly surprised to see them. “What are you guys doing here? Where’s the rest of the party?”

The girls wave at you and giggle, and you realize now that you’ve never actually seen them alone together before. Normally they’re with Lucas or MIke, so it’s a bit jarring to see them getting along so well without the boys. Jarring, but also very lovely.

“We don’t need those idiots.” Max responds, which makes El giggle even more.

Steve whistles, impressed by Max’s bluntness, and hands them their ice cream. They begin to eat the treat before a thought occurs to him. “Wait a second, are you even allowed to be here?”

You walk through the breakroom and come out the main doors to join Steve at the register. While you’re happy to see Max and El getting along, Steve has a point. Why is El here in such a public space? When you had asked Hopper last month if you could take El to Steve’s graduation, it had taken a whole debate and a fresh batch of cookies in order to convince the old man to let her come.

El is still technically forbidden from being seen in public, and yet here she is: running around Starcourt with Max.

You put your hands on the counter and lean towards the girls. They take a few steps back, now knowing that you’re onto them. “Max, El, what are you up to?”

Their eyes widen while you narrow yours, daring them to lie. Then, quickly glancing at one another, they turn around and run out of Scoops Ahoy, leaving you alone with Steve. You both stand there, dumbfounded.

“I thought I only ever had to worry about the boys.” You whisper, horrified. “The girls were supposed to be the ones I could trust.”

Steve rubs your shoulders and kisses your cheek. “You’re gonna go after them, aren’t you?”

You drop your head and sigh. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’ll tell Robin you had a babysitting emergency.” He presses a kiss to your neck now, which you shiver at, before gently shoving you out from behind the counter. “Good luck, angel.”

Steve’s kisses give you the energy you need to run after Max and El. They’re surprisingly fast as they giggle and trade ice cream cones to share. You call after them as you dodge random people in the mall, but your calls are in vain. They ignore you and continue to skip happily away from you.

“Guys!” When you finally catch up to them, they’re outside standing in front of the bike rack. “Why are you in front of the bikes–oh.”

You see Mike, Lucas, and Will unlocking their bikes from the rack as they bicker over something. Faintly you hear Mike and Lucas arguing about splitting money while Will is silent.

There’s a tension between the girls and boys that you now take note of. Normally El would have already been wrapped around Mike’s arms, but she remains by your side as Max approaches the boys. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”

When Mike sees El, he drops his bike in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Shopping.” El says as she glares at the boy.

You’ve never seen her so cold towards someone. It’s kind of frightening, honestly. “Oh, Wheeler, what did you do?”

“What did I do? No, what did you do? You’re the one who is letting her walk around Starcourt where everyone can see her!” Mike shrieks, always finding ways to blame you for his own problems.

You scoff. “Hey, I’ve only known about this for like, a second longer than you have.”

“Sure, likely story.”

“Have you ever considered not pissing off your girlfriend?”

“Have you ever considered getting a better boyfriend than Harrington?”

“Okay–”

Max steps in between you and Mike, annoyed. “Both of you shut up!” She waves her hand over El’s outfit and tries to turn the conversation around. “This is El’s new style. What do you think?”

“I think she looks nice–”

Mike cuts you off. “What’s wrong with you? You know she’s not allowed to be here.”

“What is she, your little pet?”

El clenches her jaw. “Yeah. Am I your pet?”

“What? No!” Mike denies, equally as confused as you are.

You’re not quite sure how you ended up in this situation.

“Then why do you treat me like garbage?” El questions the boy.

You frown at this and subtly step towards Lucas, desperately hoping for some clarification. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s a long story.” He sighs, and you now realize that Max must be angry with him, too.

El continues to interrogate Mike, and you almost feel bad for the boy. “You said Nana was sick.”

“She is! She is sick.” Mike lies through his teeth. You think about what Hopper told you earlier, how he had said some things to get Mike away from El, and you suppose now that it had involved some type of lie about the kid’s grandma.

Then Mike shoves at Lucas to get him to play along as well. Reluctantly he echoes his friend, though you know he’s aware that he’s only making this worse for himself. “She’s super sick, that’s why we’re here, actually.”

Mike is quick to follow along. “Yeah, we’re shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana.”

You catch Will’s eyes, who has remained silent this entire time, and he shakes his head at you in disappointment. You look back at Mike and Lucas now, unamused. “Nana isn’t sick, is she?”

“She is! But…” Mike fumbles over his words now. “We’re also here to get a gift for El. We just–we couldn’t find anything that suited her and I only have like, $3.50, so it’s hard.”

“It’s expensive… Had we known you were at the mall we would’ve asked you for money.” Lucas mumbles, which you flick his forehead at. “Ow, Y/N!”

El looks between Lucas and Mike, her eyes showing her hurt. “You lie.” When neither boy says anything, her hurt only grows and her voice wavers with tears. “Why do you lie?”

Again, El’s words are met with silence. Mike looks down, too ashamed to meet her eyes, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling even worse for the kid. You hadn’t expected to witness an awkward relationship feud today, and it wasn’t all entirely his fault. You know that Hopper played a role in this.

Later, when you have the time, you’re definitely going to yell at the police chief about this.

As the silence drags on, the local bus that drives everyone in Hawkins to Starcourt now arrives in the parking lot. Hearing its brakes hiss, El looks behind her and seems to make up her mind about something. Her face is stony as she approaches Mike and her words are laced with venom. “I dump your ass.”

You and Max gasp, though yours is more from shock and Max is more from being impressed.

Mike’s face falls and El whips around and begins walking towards the bus. Max follows, waving goodbye to you, and you’re left to deal with the unfortunate outcome of this bizarre situation.

Laughing nervously, you awkwardly pat Mike’s back. “You’ll… Uh, fix this, right?”

Mike slaps your hand away and marches back towards his bike. His shoulders droop and he looks tired from all he’s had to deal with today. Lucas doesn’t look any better and silently follows after his friend. Will is the only one who remains, and he drops his head to your chest and groans. “I just wanted to play DnD today.”

“I know, little bee.” You scratch his head and try to console him. “But sometimes life gets in the way. Right now Mike and Lucas need you, do you think you could help them?”

Will looks up at you. “I don’t know… Maybe, I guess.”

“Do what you can,” you kiss his forehead, wishing you could do more for him. All he’s wanted to do all summer is be a kid again, but his peers are growing older and leaving him behind. It isn’t anyone’s fault. “I gotta go, buddy. But I promise you and I will do something this week, just the two of us, okay?”

He nods, content with this, and you ruffle his hair before heading back inside to Scoops.

–

Hours later, you, Steve, Dustin, and Robin all uncover the rest of the Russian code.

You stand with your back against Steve’s chest as he has his arms draped loosely over you. Robin and Dustin stand to your left as you all face the whiteboard that has the message written on it, reading it out loud.

“‘The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west’.”

There’s a pause as you all take in the bizarre message. You’re extremely doubtful that it’s right. The order of the words is too abstract to possibly be purposeful. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“Are we sure this is right?” You ask the group, knowing no one else will utter the doubt that settles over the room. Steve tightens his arms around you and shrugs.

“It has to be.” Dustin mumbles, though even he looks unsure.

Robin sighs. “Well, whether or not we’re right, dingus and I have to close up shop.”

Steve groans but reluctantly lets go of you so that he can help Robin with closing. While the two teens wash the ice cream scoopers and put away the remaining ice cream, you sit with Dustin at one of the booths.

“Maybe it’s a code?”

“Dustin, we just translated a foreign language. Thinking it’s a code seems like a cop-out, honestly.” You rest your head in your hands and watch Steve count the money in the register. Feeling your eyes on him, he looks up and winks at you. Blushing, you look back at your brother. “We probably just translated it wrong.”

“My ears are right! We didn’t translate anything wrong!” Robin shouts from across the store.

Dustin perks up. “See? We have to assume we’re onto something.”

You bite your lip, still unsure, but leave the topic alone for now. There’s no point arguing with Dustin and Robin because it’s not like any of you can just ask a native Russian speaker who is correct. If it somehow ends up being a hidden code, then you’ll apologize to Robin’s ears later.

It’s quiet in the parlor after that, but when Steve and Robin have finished closing and he pulls the gate down to lock up the store before you all go home, Steve can’t help but bring the subject up again. “I mean–it’s just, it can’t be right.”

“It’s right.” Robin affirms once more, and Dustin nods at her appreciatively.

“Honesty, I think it’s great news.”

Steve walks next to you as the four of you slowly head towards the mall’s exit. It’s late, you’re tired from your long day of translating the Russian language, and you’re ready to go to bed. Then, as if somehow knowing the exhaustion that weighs upon you, you feel Steve slip his hand into yours. His fingers are warm and the touch soothes you as he gently guides the two of you.

“How is this great news?” Steve asks your brother. “I mean, so much for being American heroes. It’s total nonsense.”

“The goal isn’t to be American heroes, dummy.” You chide, tugging at your hands to make sure he looks at you and listens. “We aren’t still going to follow this, are we?”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you both. “It’s not nonsense, it’s too specific and obviously a code. And yes we’re going to keep following this. We’re onto something, I can feel it!”

“All I feel right now is a crippling migraine forming,” you groan, rubbing at your temples.

Steve kisses your head in concern, feeling bad that he’s kept you out so late. However, he also really, really would love to become someone important. Someone worthy of his dad’s favor, so he follows after Dustin, curious despite it all. “What do you mean a code?”

“Like a super secret spy code.”

“That’s a total stretch.”

You snort. “That’s what I said, but no. Why should we ever listen to Y/N? It’s not like she’s always right in the end.”

Robin winces, afraid to annoy you further, but she can’t help but agree with Dustin. “I don’t know, is it really a stretch?”

“No, please don’t tell me you believe my brother.” You’re betrayed, hurt even, that Robin would succumb to Dustin’s fantasies.

Normally you’re all for believing your brother, but Russians in Hawkins leaving a hidden code in a radio frequency that can be accessed by the public? You may have fought alternate dimension monsters and you may know a girl with mind control powers, but even this feels far fetched.

“Listen, just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What’d you think they were gonna say, ‘fire the warhead at noon’?” Robin raises her eyebrows at you.

“Well… no.” You slump your shoulders, knowing that she has a point. “But–”

“Just admit we’re right, Y/N.” Dustin says, annoyed.

Robin turns to you and almost groans when she sees your hand intertwined with Steve’s. Her voice falters for a moment at the sight, but she clears her throat and carries on with the conversation. “And my translation is correct. I know that for sure, so… ‘the silver cat feeds’. Why would anyone talk like that unless they’re trying to mask the meaning of their message?”

Dustin is next to her now, hanging onto her every word as you and Steve lag behind. “Exactly!”

“It is a weird phrase,” you mumble under your breath, and Steve can’t help but chuckle at how endearing you are when you try to play the reasonable role. It’s never any use, you’re everything that hope and optimism embodies; it’s adorable.

Robin sees that you’re close to giving in and begins to ramble now. “Why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?” Again Dustin agrees with everything she says and Steve shrugs his shoulders while all you do is sigh in defeat. Looking at your brother, Robin concludes, “Guess that confirms your suspicions.”

“Evil Russians.”

“Okay, no.” You step between them now. “What if they’re just, like, really shy Russians who want some privacy? Why do we always jump to the evil conclusion?”

Dustin shoulders you to get you to shut up, and you shove him back, starting a small spat between the two of you. He hits your shoulder, you hit his stomach, and Steve watches with amusement while Robin stares in horror.

“Do we stop them?” She asks the teen.

Steve shakes his head. “I’ve learned that it’s best to just let them fight it out. It’s been a month, they’re behind on their fist fighting schedule.”

“I heard that!” You quickly say to him before yanking Dustin’s shirt to get him off of your back.

Seeing your struggle, Robin forces your brother off of you and holds him by his arms so that he doesn’t jump on you again. Dustin complains, but quickly shuts up at what Robin says. “Focus! I’m trying to tell you that I agree with you, this is totally evil Russians.”

Dustin stops struggling against her, now elated at the idea of defeating evil foreigners. “So how do we crack it?”

You were scared that Robin and Dustin wouldn’t get along, but as you watch them bounce schemes off of one another and plan an evil Russian take down, you’re now terrified of the friendship brewing between them. It’s worse than Steve with Dustin; Robin is just as cunning as your brother is.

She thinks for a moment. “I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges.”

“Have we ever considered a game plan for after poking our noses where they don’t belong?” Dustin and Robin both glare at you and you hold your hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying.”

“Ignore her, Robin. She likes to pretend she’s the rational one in these types of situations.” Dustin whispers to her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve kisses your cheek as a way to console you as your brother continues to speak. “Anyways, maybe the ‘silver cat’ is a meeting place?”

“Or a person.” Robin theorizes.

“Or a weapon.”

As the two of them come up with insane theories about what the code could mean, you notice that Steve is no longer by your side. Turning around, you find him stopped at one of the carousel horses meant for little kids. He’s bent over it, examining it. You frown, unsure what he’s doing, and walk over to him.

Resting a hand against his back, you lean down next to him. “Can I ask what we’re looking at here, honey?” He’s mumbling under his breath and digging through his pockets for something. Now you’re starting to get concerned. “Steve?”

“I need–do you have a quarter?”

“No?” You’re even more concerned now. Placing the back of your hand against his forehead, you check his temperature. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Sure you’re tall enough for that ride?” Robin quips as she and Dustin now join.

“Quarter!” Steve demands, nearly falling over as he tries to catch the one that she tosses him. When he catches it he quickly pushes the coin into the machine’s slot, bringing it to life. Music begins to play as the horse moves back and forth. It’s ominous, almost, in the mall’s dim lighting with no one else around.

Steve listens intently to the music, his face concentrated as if trying to understand something. As the music continues to play, you can’t help but feel that it sounds familiar. It reminds you of something, maybe a distant memory that you can’t quite recall. Wanting to understand more, you lean in close to the machine as well and mirror Steve’s actions. “The music…”

“They’ve both lost it,” Dustin mumbles when he sees that you’re also now analyzing a stupid carousel horse.

“Y/N, you helping little Stevie up onto the ride?” Robin laughs at her own joke, but you swat at her to shush her.

As the song plays once more, it finally clicks. Your mind flashes back to your conversation with him earlier in the break room as you kept replaying the Russian recording over and over again. It’s the same song. With a gasp, you throw your arms around Steve’s neck and begin kissing his face over and over again. “You’re a genius!”

Steve leans into your kisses and smiles at the praise, relieved that you don’t think he’s some idiot. Though his heart is beating wildly, he clears his throat and shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal. “I have my moments.”

“Care to share with the class, dinguses?”

Robin’s voice startles you, having momentarily forgotten where you were. Blushing, you pull away from Steve and clear your throat as well and act as if you weren’t just drowning the boy in kisses. “Listen to the song, guys.”

The seriousness of your tone causes Dustin to finally listen to the music as well. It only takes him a few seconds to piece together what you and Steve already have. “Holy shit. The music.”

“The music.” You confirm with pride, still incredibly amazed that Steve managed to remember such a small yet crucial detail. Since coming to befriend him, you’ve come to admire just how perceptive he is. Sure, he may not be a math whiz, but his emotional and creative intelligence leaves you in awe every time you see it. He’s smarter than anyone gives him credit for.

You wish his father saw this intelligence within him. Honestly, you wish more people did.

Dustin yanks his backpack off of his shoulder and starts rustling through it as he searches for something. When he finds his tape recorder, he starts to play the Russian transmission again. Hearing the audio and carousel play simultaneously side by side, it only confirms what Steve has long since figured out: it’s the same song.

Not being able to help yourself, you again kiss Steve’s cheek, giddy and proud of him. “You’re brilliant.”

He preens while Robin scrunches her nose, unsure why you’re all over the guy because of some song. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s the exact same song on the recording.” Dustin explains to her.

“Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?”

You nod at her. “Maybe? We should look into who produces these machines, it could be our new lead.”

Steve shakes his head. “‘Indiana Flyer’? I don’t… I don’t think so.”

Something seems to shift within his voice and his face now twists with slight fear. He looks as if he’s realized something awful, and you feel your own joy from earlier vanish. A chill runs through you, the same awful feeling of dread that once overwhelmed you when Will originally disappeared now courses through you again.

“What is it?” You softly ask Steve, already bracing yourself for the worst.

He frowns at the apprehension in your voice and the worried crease between his brows makes you want to smooth away the concern. You know he doesn’t want to scare you, that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, so you tilt your head at him and nod slightly; you want him to tell you. Seeing your unspoken permission, he sighs. “This code, it… didn’t come from Russia. It came from here.”

You, Robin, and Dustin all look at one another. Fear settles over the group, you can feel its heavy weight like an old, familiar friend.

“Why does everything happen in Hawkins?” You say to no one in particular, still trying to process what this all means.

Dustin sighs and Steve drops his head.

Somehow, you always end up here.

–

Steve offers to drive you and Dustin home after seeing how shaken up you are by the latest Russian revelation. Tired and exhausted and terrified as usual, you accept.

It takes some trial and error, but eventually he and your brother manage to fit your bikes in the back of the BMW.

The drive to your house is filled with awkward banter between Steve and Dustin. You sit quietly in the passenger seat as the two boys try to make light of the situation, but not even their jokes can lessen the fear that creeps into the car; none of you are sure what to make of all of this.

When Steve pulls up to your house, all that you’ve managed to do the entire car ride is make a mental note to call Jonathan about everything later. It’s not your best plan, you wish that there was more you could do, but at the very least you know that he and Nancy can help.

Dustin scrambles out of the car, desperate to escape the tension within it. “See you tomorrow, Steve!” He calls behind him before slamming the car door shut.

You snort softly at your brother, finally moving to unbuckle your own seatbelt, before Steve places his hand on yours and stops you. He’s noticed how quiet you’ve been the entire car ride and the way your eyes have clouded over with fear. He hates it. “Do me a favor?”

“Yes?” You blink at him, unsure what he could want at this hour. It’s late and your mom expects you home soon.

“Leave your window unlocked for me.” He winks at you, trying to play coy, but you see the genuine concern for you hidden beneath his actions.

You can’t help but smile; it feels as if you can breathe again. “Steve Harrington, why should I leave my window unlocked for you?”

Your smile sends a warmth through Steve’s chest as relief washes over him. He’s doing something right. He’s gotten you to smile. “Because I’m planning on sneaking in after I park my car a few blocks down so your mom won’t see me.”

Though you know what he had been implying, hearing him say the words out loud causes a wild blush to burn across your cheeks and your stomach to swoop. Steve has never done this before, sneaking into your room like some lovestruck teenager late at night, it’s been the one boundary neither of you have crossed before.

“I suppose I can do that.” You say with an air of indifference, which Steve rolls his eyes at. “Strictly friendly, of course.”

“Oh, of course.”

You giggle, finally unbuckling your seatbelt, and you exit the car after kissing the boy’s cheek. His face is warm against your lips and you’re coming to memorize the way your nose presses against the indent of his cheek bones.

When you get inside, your mom is knitting on the couch while Tews sits in her lap. She greets you with a smile and you compliment the scarf she’s making. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect for this winter, mom.”

She thanks you and wishes you a good night, noticing the bags underneath your eyes with slight concern. Inside your room, you quickly clear away the scattered pieces of paper on your desk and arrange your bedding so that it isn't strewn across the room. Steve has been in your room a million times now, and yet you can’t help but feel like tonight is different for some reason.

True to his word, within ten minutes Steve is knocking on your window. Hearing the quiet way his knuckles rap against the glass makes your heart jump in your stomach. Your body practically buzzes as you go to open the window, eager to have him close to you.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, opening the window wide enough for him to crawl through.

Steve pulls himself up with ease, his biceps strain against his Scoops Ahoy uniform, and you’ve never been more thankful for corporate policy. “Sorry, angel. Came here as fast as I could.”

You tug at his shirt and the two of you are falling into your bed. He lands on you with a soft thud and your body has long since become accustomed to his weight. As his body settles upon yours, it feels like coming home. You exhale deeply, wrapping your arms around his body, and Steve nuzzles his face into your neck and presses a gentle kiss there.

Everything swirling violently within your head now stills. The constant onslaught of worries and doubts finally quiets, and you know that despite it all, at least you have Steve.

“We’ll figure it out, ya know.” Steve’s lips move against the skin of your neck as he speaks, making you shiver slightly at the sensation.

“I know,” you start to play with his hair, needing something to do with your hands as you speak. “But… How many times are we going to keep doing this? Be the only people in Hawkins aware of what’s going on?”

Steve is silent for a few moments, allowing your words to sink in. He rolls them around in his head, he knows that the question isn’t one that comes from doubt of what he and the others are capable of. You don’t lack faith, you lack the willingness to constantly place the ones you love at risk. It just isn’t in your nature.

“As many times as needed.” He pauses again, unsure how to express to you his certainty that you’re capable of so much with all the love within you. If there’s anyone in this shitty town who is a real American hero, it’s you. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through these last two years, measly Russians are no big deal. We’ve fought worse monsters than Communism.”

You laugh, he always somehow gets you to laugh, and the sound is as angelic to Steve as your eyes are to him. He tightens his arms around you and relishes in the way your body presses against his, how he can feel your body move with every inhale of your laugh.

Then, slowly, your laughter dies down. Reality settles upon you once more and you want to believe Steve, you do, and you try to reassure yourself that he’s right… but something feels off about this. You can’t exactly articulate what it is, but there's this haze of uncertainty that you’ve never quite felt before; a vulnerability that leaves you feeling cold in his arms.

Sensing your fear rising up again, Steve tries to distract you by changing the subject. “Speaking of monsters, I recruited the little heathens to help with your birthday gift.”

The change of subject works. You raise your head and look at the teen. “You mean the party? You got them to help with a gift for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Y/N.” Steve butts his head against your chin playfull. “I can make them listen to me… sometimes.”

You stare at him, knowing he’s full of shit. “Go on, tell me all about how you got them to listen to you.”

He tries to hold your gaze, refusing to back down, but he cracks after only a few seconds. “Okay, fine. It took a lot of pleading and I now owe a bunch of pre-teens money.”

A loud, full body laugh escapes your lips, and Steve laughs with you. The two of you hold one another and feel each other laugh, chests rising with glee. For a moment you feel okay again, forgetting everything else for now. You’re carefree in this moment, feeling like a little kid again, something only Steve can do to you.

When your laughs die down, you and Steve quietly lay together. No other words manage to find their way in the dark of your room, all that needs to be said has been laid to rest. His warm breaths hit the base of your neck as your nails scratch against his scalp. While you feel safe in his arms, there’s still so much that needs to be said.

Staring at the ceiling of your room, you see faint threads and strings and lines that you thought you put to rest that night in Jonathan’s room this winter. Now, they’re back again, only this time it’s a different boy within your arms. Something akin to doubt creeps in.

Steve already has all of you, you told him you’d wait, but what if you’ve missed your chance again with him like you did with Jonathan? When June began, Steve promised that you had all summer together. He calls you angel and tells you stories to fall asleep to on the phone, and yet the threads that glow above you taunt you.

You love him, you do, but you’re terrified that whatever the two of you uncover with the Russians will somehow pry you apart.

Just like Will’s disappearance had pried Jonathan away from you two years ago.

July looms over you and summer is going by faster than you thought it would. The promise of summer, one that usually leaves the nostalgic taste of honey on your tongue, now threatens to choke you.

As if having a mind of their own, your arms tighten even more around Steve, almost as if somehow you can shield what the two of you have from the dangers within Hawkins.

You hope it’s enough.

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #this one foreshadows loooooads #like so much #i feel so sneaky

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tinygrove · 1 month ago

Text

Decent Man Pt.1

The second part

Pairing: Cregan Stark/fem!reader

Author's Note: I've decided to split this into 2 parts just to give myself a chance to work on the ending but I was eager to get something written. This is the first fanfiction I've wrote, or at least posted on this account so I hope it's not too bad.

Summary: You're newly wed to Lord Stark after having only been courted for barely a month. Although the anxieties of having to perform as a 'royal' wife start to eat at you, Cregan proves to be a decent husband.

You must have done it, how else would you be alone in his chambers. Blocking out all the noise and going through the motions would only get you so far. You couldn’t even remember the vows. Lord Stark had arranged for there to be no bedding ceremony, perhaps an act of mercy. You’ve heard some lords complain they simply want their lady wives all to themselves, untouched and unspoiled. You were neither. You weren’t sure if your Lord husband was either.

You hadn’t learned much about him during your courting, not that it lasted long. Your father practically jumped at the opportunity for a stronger alliance to the most powerful house in the North. It must have appeased Lord Stark as well, seeing how quickly he’d agreed to the marriage, it had barely taken place a fortnight after you’d met. Now though, you were in his room, none to accompany you but your ladies in waiting. A few had come with you from your own keep, or rather your fathers. And one or two had been appointed to you since coming to Winterfell to stay. You could hardly form the words to tell them you could undress yourself. Maybe it was the cloak weighing you down, making it harder to breath the harsh winter air. You let it slip off your shoulders and yet you still feel heavy, a weight in your chest and a hard lump in your throat.

Hearing the thick wooden door swing open and shut after heavy footfalls and quick scurrying of feet made the pit in your stomach sink even lower. “Are you well?” He asked, definitely due to your silent stewing. The whole night you’ve been lost in your own thoughts.

“Yes, I am well, thank you.” You force a courteous smile to you face, although more brief and sour than you’d intended. You figure you’ll have to do a lot more of that in the coming years. “You do not look well.” Your not sure he says so in a demeaning way, more so that he’s seen through your flimsy facade. Or maybe he’s focused on the way your hands desperately seek purchase on your gown as your eyes start to brim with tears. You can’t control it when they start to spill.

“There is no need for us to,” He gestures between you with a sigh, trying to supplement actions for words. “Consummate the marriage tonight, if you do not wish it.” He tries to search your eyes for any sort of answer but you avoid his gaze. “Did you hear-”

“Let’s just get it over with.” You say, voice low and wavering with all it’s strength to keep it from cracking. Another stray tear falls down your cheek as you reach behind yourself for the laces of your gown but two large hands hold your arms still.

“You truly think so little of me? That I would– Like I said, there is no need to consummate the marriage tonight.” He brings your arms out from behind your back, holding your chilled hands in his. His fingers and palms are calloused, yet his grip gentle. “I barely had a chance to court you before we wed, perhaps we might come to know each other before; that.” Your eyes flicker down to where his hands encompass yours, and he quickly recedes after catching on but strangely, you find yourself missing his warmth.

As your eyes find his once more he continues. “I shall have a few ladies in your service prepare a chamber for you. I know you’ve not had space for your things but I assure you they’ve been taken care of. In the mean time though you’ll need to take your rest here.” He turns to make for the door and surprisingly a part of you longs for him to stay. The brief bit of kindness he’s shown to you is more than you can say for those that attended your wedding. Your father truly had not exaggerated the icy attitude of those in the North. Lord Stark however, to see his wintry exterior slowly melt away has made it almost impossible to detest him. “I will see you on the morrow, my lady.” He opens the door and a cold breeze comes over you, yet you don’t shiver, the cold only emboldens you. “Thank you, Lord Stark, for your kindness.” your voice is somewhat steady now, no longer fighting an imminent sob. He nods at your words, “Cregan will do just fine, my lady.” You’re alone now and the chill is gone. All the warmth radiating from the hearth is slowly becoming too much to bear even as it smolders to embers. The absence of your Lord husband leaves you feeling alone now, more than you’ve ever been.

#house of the dragon #reader insert #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark/reader #cregan stark/you

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water-to-drink · 3 months ago

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Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt14

Cloak and Dagger of the Archons

(Summary): Finally getting tired of their helpless position the archons decide to take action into their own hands

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): Yae Miko, Ei, Nahida, Zhongli, Venti, Furina, Mavuika,

(Tags/Warnings): Mavuika archon name might be wrong (will change it if is), Mavuika might be ooc, not proof read

(Word Count): 1.4k

A soft hum reverberates throughout the halls. The humming comes from a sly fox familiar, finally making her way to a room she slides open the shoji to reveal an empty room

“Okay Ei, it’s time to come out.” Yae announces. “Ei? You know I’m impatient, It’s been so boring without you lately.” The Miko whined

Met with silence the pink haired woman focused on sensing the familiar consciousness of her master, only to find nothing

Confused she didn’t notice a soldier walking past only to stop once he spotted her. “Ohh, Lady Yae. If you’re looking for the Shogun, she’s not here.”

“What do you mean ‘she’s not here?’ Where else would she be?”

“I don’t know, but a man from Liyue came and she left with him.” The soldier explained

“Hmm, where could she have gone?”

“Achooo!” Sneezed the purple haired archon

“Bless you.” The littlest archon said

“Thank you, Buer.”

“Hehe, the almighty Shogun sneezing, I thought I never see the day.” Venti giggled

“I don’t see it to be a laughing matter, it could be due to someone talking about me, I just wonder who.” Ei pondered

“What is the deal with this domain, Morax?” Mavuika asked the taller gentleman

“This domain is what I assume to have belonged to their Grace when they still were with us.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” Ei asked

“And why weren’t we made aware of its existence?!” Furina asked

“I apologize but I didn’t want the existence of this domain be known by that imposter.”

The archons all looked at each other with concern expressions at the mention of your doppelganger, Nahida turns to look at Zhongli

“How did you come across this domain, Morax?”

“It was right after their Grace’s death.” Zhongli began

He remembers that day as if it had happened yesterday. The skies pouring rain down onto the geo archon, as if Teyvat was itself is mourning the loss of its creator

As he kept on walking through the field, the clouds part to reveal the field has sprouted many flowers. Flowers that glitter in the sun in the same manner your blood did when spilled

The flowers tell a story of a battle that fought here, a battle that you had to fight on your own. Rage and sorrow fills the god, he falls to his knees and frantically began to rip the flowers out of the ground as tears ran down his face. He could have been there to help you, to at least protect you, but you felt like you needed to fight this battle alone

why?

Why?

WHY?!

WHY WHY WHY?!?!

Why did things have to end like this? Why wasn’t he there to stop this from happening?!

Morax wailed and wailed until his throat started hurting. When he stopped he saw a petal with a light blue aura floating above the ground

Reaching out towards the petal he was instantly transported somewhere

A domain of sorts, its walls were lined with gold and lapis lazuli embedded into them. It was massive and empty, like it had been subject to neglect, it was luxurious none the less.

A place that reminded the dragon of you and it dawned on him that this domain belonged to you, whatever the reason you abandoned it, it will be a monument to you and your greatness

Zhongli finished telling the other archons and they all had mournful looks on their faces

“I’m so sorry you had to experience that, Morax.” Mavuika consoled

“It was a very difficult time, but I rather have this domain be in my hands than anyone else’s, Aym.”

“You should be proud of the work you amassed theoughout the centuries.” Ei said as she looked at the bookshelves that reach the ceiling

“Only the best for their Grace, and might I ask do you know what’s behind that door?” Furina asked gesturing towards the door

“Unfortunately I do not. I was hoping for their Grace to know when they descended.” Zhongli explained

Venti leans in towards the door to examine the keyhole, instead of it being the standard keyhole it was circular with 4 other smaller circles extended from the larger one

“It’s a pretty odd keyhole. I’m surprised you didn’t try to bust it down through brute force.” Venti giggled. The archons looked at the elder archon who is looking down a bit shamefully. “Well I wonder what’s behind this door.”

“It might be due to them wanting to hide something.” All the archons whipped their heads towards Ei. “I remember one time when their Grace visited Inazuma they called themselves a ‘monster’ especially after ‘what they done.’ When I tried to press further they refused to elaborate.” Ei explained

“It didn’t help that their Grace was very secretive about their past. I’m pretty sure that the knowledge we have on them is already common.”

As the gods talked amongst themselves the littlest of them pondered and pondered until it dawned on her

“Maybe there’s something in the Akademiya’s secret archives.” Nahida spoke out

“Why do you did there’s something useful to us is in some place so dusty.” Venti asked as he continued on with the other archons

The gods followed as the littlest one lead them through the secret basement

“This is where the supposed belongings of their Grace.” Nahida explained as she kept walking until she stopped in front of a large door

Nahida placed her hand on the door and it lit up with a green aura before the doors open. “It should be in here.” She continued to walk

“Why do you seem uncertain about the ‘key’ being here?” Furina asked

“Oh well, I didn’t know of this place when I was imprisoned.”

“What?!” Ei, Furina, and Mavuika said in unison

After several minutes of explaining Nahida’s imprisonment by her people

“How awful, I will teach you how to use a sword to strike down those traitors!” Ei said as Mavuika nodded her head in agreement

“N-no thank you!” Nahida shot the offer down

“How about taking those snakes to trial! If they think they can imprison a god then they should have the courage to face one in court!” Furina exclaimed

“They were already taken care of.” Nahida said trying to calm the three archons down. “With the help of the traveler and their Grace they freed me from my prison. Though, I don’t have any memories of their Grace when they walked Teyvat, they try to make it up to me.”

“You’re my daughter now, I don’t care what anyone says.” Your voice rings throughout her ears causing her heart to fill with joy, visiting various places across Teyvat was already enough for her. “I want you to see the world as it is, so let’s go exploring, Nahida!” You encouraged making Nahida smile

Bringing herself back, Nahida looks up at the archons who are smiling at her

“Did that imposter know of your imprisonment?” Venti asked

The bright smile quickly fell off of Nahida’s face and the other archons already knew the answer

“How vile! Them standing by while an archon was imprisoned by her own people!” Ei clenched her fists

“We should stop stalling before we get even more sidetracked.” Zhongli said seeming stoic as ever but the others could tell his anger was steeping through by the slight tremor that could be felt on the ground

The archons decided it was best to continue and began looking through the artifacts. Many of which were obviously fake and thus toss to the side, this continued for a good few hours until one of them felt a faint presence

Ei holds up what looks to be a brooch up for the archons to get a proper look. Upon closer examination they all could see that the brooch had 4 empty slots for something circular to be slotted into them

“Is that what I think it is?” Venti asked amazed

“That is no doubt that the brooch belonged to their Grace by the faint aura it is emitting.” Zhongli confirmed

Quickly taking the petal out of his breast pocket and transporting him and the others to the domain. Ei hands the brooch to Zhongli and walks towards the door to bring it to the keyhole

It fits perfectly

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @bore2808 @esthelily @yurivision @angelamelamela @chocolatekuns @ghost-mint @mmmhyperfixation @legendaryexperthideout @lapinaenmicoche @sinsdumbdrabble @rebeccawinters @imyme20 @nymphsdomain @sun7lowxr @blackcoffex @itz-luna @flowerpesky @land-of-eternity @deathcvltcivilofficial @d4y-dr3am3r @yuriclouds @artwitch @mercy-not-merci @xyaxyn @starxvs @dreamoffireflies06 @desirabletravel

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tulipatheticee · 5 months ago

Text

labyrinth

anthony bridgerton x fem! reader

synopsis; anthony bridgerton had swore off love, but after meeting miss y/n l/n, he couldn't keep himself away. after a talk with his mother he now has to navigate his feelings to courting the owner of his heart

word count; 2.0k

master list

a/n; this was meant to be a benedict fic but my friend (who picked the song tysm) had a brain wave that labyrinth is so anthony coded

as always, kinda proof read, kinda not :p

It only hurts this much right now

Was what I was thinking the whole time

Breathe in, breathe through

Breathe deep, breathe out

Since the news that Viscount Lord Anthony Bridgerton was searching for a wife this social season had spread, he had all the ladies vying for his attention. He was very clear with himself that he most definitely did NOT want a love match. After witnessing the devastating effects of losing a loved one, he had completely sworn off it. He simply wanted a wife who would be a good viscountess, a good mother, and overall a proper, standard wife. But once he became acquainted with Miss Y/N, he was immediately enticed by her. The more he saw her, the more he spoke with her, the more he wanted her. She consumed his thoughts; he couldn't even sleep without thinking of her. She clouded his mind, his dreams, his vision. In an attempt to clear the cloud of her, he began to avoid her with all his might.

Anthony Bridgerton would NOT fall in love. But as he spent time away from her, he found himself missing her, her smile, her wit, her kind eyes, her humour, her. His resolve wavered with each passing day, the emptiness left by her absence growing unbearable. Every time he saw her across a crowded room, his heart ached with longing. The thought of another man capturing her attention, sharing moments that should have been his, filled him with a deep, unspoken dread. He realised, with a mix of frustration and inevitability, that denying his feelings was futile. She had become an integral part of his life, whether he admitted it or not.

I'll be getting over you my whole life

You know how scared I am of elevators

Never trust it if it rises fast

It can't last

The Bridgerton family estate was quiet in the early morning light, the stillness broken only by the distant sound of birdsong. Anthony sat alone in his study, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. His father's death had left a void in his life, one that he had tried to fill with duty and obligation. But lately, that void has been filled with thoughts of Y/N.

He remembered the first time he had seen her, her laughter lighting up the room as she danced with her friends. She had seemed so free, so unburdened by the worries that plagued him. He had been drawn to her from the start, but he had kept his distance, afraid of what he might feel.

"It only hurts this much right now," he had told himself, trying to convince his heart to stay guarded.

But the more he saw of Y/N, the harder it became to ignore his feelings. She was everything he had ever wanted, and everything he had sworn to avoid. He knew he couldn't keep running from his emotions forever.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. Anthony looked up to see his mother, Violet, standing in the doorway.

"Good morning, Anthony," she said, her voice gentle.

"Good morning," he replied, trying to smile.

Violet walked into the room, her eyes filled with concern. "You've been so distant lately. Is something troubling you?"

Anthony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's nothing, Mother. Just the usual worries."

Violet sat down beside him, her expression softening. "Anthony, I've known you all your life. I can tell when something is truly bothering you. Please, talk to me."

Anthony hesitated, the words caught in his throat. He had always been the strong one, the one who held the family together. Admitting his feelings felt like a betrayal of that role.

"It's Miss L/N," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Violet's eyes widened in surprise. "Miss Y/N? What about her?"

"I... I think I'm falling for her," Anthony admitted, his heart pounding in his chest. "But I'm afraid. Afraid of what it might mean, of what it could lead to."

Violet's expression softened even further. "Oh, Anthony. Love is always a risk, but it's a risk worth taking. You can't spend your life running from it."

Anthony looked down, his hands trembling. "But what if it doesn't last? What if it only brings pain?"

"That's a chance we all take," Violet said gently. "But you'll never know if you don't let yourself feel. Miss L/N is a wonderful woman, and I can see how much she cares for you. Don't let fear keep you from something beautiful."

Anthony took a deep breath, the weight on his chest lifting just a little. "Thank you, Mama. I needed to hear that."

Violet smiled, her eyes filled with love. "Anytime, my dear. Now, go find Miss Y/N and tell her how you feel. You might be surprised at what happens."

Anthony nodded, feeling a newfound sense of determination. He stood up, ready to face his fears head-on.

Uh oh, I'm falling in love

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Oh, I'm falling in love

The ball was in full swing, the grand hall filled with the laughter and chatter of London's elite. Y/N stood near the edge of the dance floor, her heart pounding as she watched Anthony Bridgerton move throughout the room. She tried to focus on her breathing, but it did little to calm the feeling inside her.

Anthony, was the epitome of charm and responsibility. His presence commanded attention, and Y/N couldn't help but be drawn to him. She sighed, feeling the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on her. How did she end up here, so lost in the labyrinth of her own mind?

For Anthony, the evening was a blur of polite conversation and obligatory dances. Since his becoming Viscount, the mantle of responsibility had weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had little time for silly pursuits, and even less patience for the entanglements of love. Yet, despite his best efforts, he found his gaze drawn to Miss Y/N L/N time and time again.

As if sensing his turmoil, Y/N glanced in his direction. Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Anthony took a deep breath and made his way toward her, weaving through the crowd with ease. His feet were moving against his mind's wishes, yet he still did not want to stop walking towards her.

"Miss L/N," he greeted, his voice warm and familiar. "You look lovely tonight."

"Thank you, Lord Bridgerton," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "You look quite handsome yourself."

They stood in silence for a moment, the noise of the ball fading into the background. Anthony struggled to find the right words, to express the feelings he had been denying for so long.

"Would you care to dance?" he finally asked, extending his hand.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in his. "I'd love to."

As they moved to the centre of the dance floor, Anthony felt a sense of calm wash over him. Holding Y/N in his arms, he realised just how much he had been fighting against his own heart. The music swirled around them, and for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to simply feel.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Y/N asked softly, her eyes searching his.

Anthony sighed, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. "I've been a fool, Miss L/N. I've been trying to protect myself from something I thought would only bring me pain."

"And what is that?" she pressed, her voice gentle but insistent.

"Love," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I've seen what it can do, how it can hurt. I thought I was better off without it."

Y/N's expression softened, and she reached up to touch his cheek. "Love can be painful, Lord Bridgerton. But it can also be the most beautiful thing in the world. You just have to be willing to take the risk."

Anthony stared into her eyes, feeling a sense of clarity he hadn't experienced in years. "I don't want to be afraid anymore, L/N. I don't want to spend my life running from something that could make me truly happy."

"Then don't," she whispered. "Take the leap. I'm right here with you."

At that moment, Anthony knew he had to let go of his fears. He had to embrace the love he felt for Y/N, no matter how terrifying it might be. As the music came to an end, he had to use all his willpower to not lean down and pressed a hungry kiss to her lips in front of all the ton, in the middle of a ballroom, sealing his promise to her and to himself. But he was a gentleman and would never do such (or even more) to a woman like Y/N, no, he would have to wait to do that, and what a task that was proving to be.

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around

-----------------------

The Next Afternoon

-----------------------

It only feels this raw right now

Lost in the labyrinth of my mind

Break up, break free, break through, break down

You would break your back to make me break a smile

Anthony found Y/N in her garden, her favourite place to escape the hustle and bustle of the ton. She was sitting on a bench, her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds of nature. He had gone over to her family's estate with the intention of asking to officially court her, after a rather intimidating conversation with her father, he took a deep breath and walked over to her.

"Miss L/N," he said softly.

She turned around and smiled when she saw him. "Lord Bridgerton! What brings you out here?"

"I needed to talk to you," he said, his heart pounding. "About us."

Y/N's smile faded, her expression turning serious. "What about us?"

Anthony sat down beside her, his hands trembling. "I know I've been distant, and I know I've been distant from you. But I can't keep running from my feelings. I... I care about you, Miss L/N. More than I ever thought possible."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.

"I know it's sudden," he continued, his voice filled with emotion. "But I can't keep denying how I feel. I want to be with you, Miss L/N. I want to take that chance”

Y/N's eyes widened as she reached out and took his hand. "Oh, Anthony. I've been waiting for you to say that."

Anthony's heart swelled with emotion as he pulled her into his arms. "After last night at the ball I’ve been thinking a lot..and I'm willing to face whatever comes our way, as long as we're together. And I feel it is safe for me to say you can say the same thing."

Y/N smile went all the way to her eyes, her heart filled with joy. "I really can, Lord Bridgerton. And I'm ready to take that chance with you."

You know how much I hate that

everybody just expects me to bounce back

Just like that

------------------

A Few Weeks Later

------------------

Uh oh, I'm falling in love

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Oh, I'm falling in love

The sun was setting over Bridgerton House, casting a warm golden glow over the estate. Anthony and Y/N stood together on the terrace, watching as the last rays of light dipped below the horizon.

"I never thought I'd find someone like you," Anthony said softly, his arm wrapped around Y/N's waist. "Someone who makes me feel like this."

Y/N smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. "And I never thought I'd find someone who could make me feel so safe and loved."

Anthony's heart swelled with love as he kissed the top of her head. "I'm so glad we took that chance, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

"And you mean everything to me," Y/N replied, her voice filled with emotion.

As they stood together, watching the stars come out one by one, Anthony knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together. He had found his way out of the labyrinth of his mind, and into the arms of the woman he loved.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt truly at peace.

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around

a/n pt2; i have mixed feelings about this one I DONT KNOWWW

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 8 months ago

Text

early days of charlie wrangling a freshly found vaggie when both are being Stubborn

Charlie: “Okay, I SAID I wouldn’t pry and I stand by that, so as a completely neutral statement- totally casual- feel free to ignore- I’m just gonna point out…

Charlie: “…this, doesn’t really look like a normal eye-cutty-outty situation.”

Vaggie: “Really.”

Charlie: “It looks burned.”

Vaggie: “Wow.”

Charlie: “And the burn looks worse than it did last night.”

Vaggie: “Fascinating.”

Charlie: “That’s not normal.”

Vaggie: “There’s a normal for that?”

Charlie: “Yes actually there really is. Welcome to hell!”

Vaggie: “Ow.”

Charlie: “Oh gosh- sorry!!! Did I pull the bandage-”

Vaggie: “No, not ow hurt. I meant. Ow. Welcome to hell, that’s a. Sick burn.”

Charlie: “Ohhh! Heh. A burn.”

Vaggie: “Right. Because..”

Charlie: “Hell?”

Vaggie: “… after the cutting out thing, my eye socket got burned.”

Charlie: “Okay huh that's not good, very bad, but- it shouldn’t be getting WORSE. It, it won’t heal, if it really was heavenly steel that-”

Vaggie: “It was.”

Charlie: “But sinners are really tough otherwise! If something doesn’t kill you right off, then you should start pulling yourself together again! Literally, sometimes! This should be HEALING.”

Vaggie: “If it won’t kill me then who cares?”

Charlie: “It’s hurting you. Just your HAIR brushing against it is making you wince-”

Vaggie: “A wince won’t kill me either.”

Charlie: "I don’t like it! There has to be SOME a way of stopping it!”

Charlie: “… maybe, if I called my dad-”

Vaggie: “Don’t. I think it’ll stop on it’s own. It’s just- like a scab. That’s what it feels like.”

Charlie: “Itchy?”

Vaggie: “Sure.”

Charlie: “Or like it’s BURNING.”

Vaggie: “Like it’s doing something and will get better on it's own, without help.”

Charlie: “And meanwhile, you can’t even sleep.”

Vaggie: “I slept last night!”

Charlie: “….”

Vaggie: “I was, lying down.”

Charlie: “Vaggie- you’re VERY pretty, but you also look exhausted and half awake and there’s pillow marks on your cheek where you tried sleeping on your wrong side again plus a bruise from rolling off and smacking into something. And also, your hair-”

Charlie: “-OH! Your HAIR!!!”

Vaggie: “Pretty..?”

Charlie: “We can pin in back! So it won’t poke at you! That’ll help, won’t it??”

Vaggie: “Uh, y-yeah. I guess it-”

Charlie: “And and AND! I can stay with you tonight!"

Vaggie: "What."

Charlie: "On the floor next to you! I can set my alarm and check on you and make SURE you don’t roll over the wrong way or stay there long enough for your eye to start hurting so much it wakes you up! And if you roll over and fall off, I can catch you! OHH!!! IT'LL BE LIKE A SLEEPOVER!!!!”

Vaggie: “Hold on, you’re not sleeping on the floor in your own house because of me.”

Charlie: “Then we can use my bed! The couch isn’t big enough- no WAY I’m fitting on there-”

Vaggie: “I’m not- I’m not using your bed either!”

Charlie: “Well you can’t start sleeping on the floor again. You’re HURT.”

Vaggie: “Still not taking your bed.”

Charlie: “Then I’ll-”

Vaggie: “And YOU’RE not sleeping on the floor!”

Charlie: “Fine! Then how’m I supposed to sleep at ALL knowing you’re not sleeping!?”

Vaggie: “Have you tried counting sheep.”

Charlie: (GLOWERS)

- that night –

Vaggie: “You’re the pettiest demon I’ve ever met.”

Charlie: “You’re welcome.”

Vaggie: “When did I say thanks for that? I don’t remember saying thanks. I do remember trying to sleep on the couch only to have some glaring demon lady drag it half way across her house- with me still on it- and then scoot it up next to her bed without even saying anything about it.”

Charlie: “I said you’re welcome. Now I can check on you during the night. And you won’t roll off and hit your face on the floor, either.”

Vaggie: “Petty.”

Charlie: “Hmph.”

Vaggie: “……”

Vaggie: “You could’ve just told me about your bright idea.”

Charlie: “I just want to sleep.” (sigh) “I’m tired of being told my ideas are stupid...”

Vaggie: “…who in hell would call y- would tell the princess of hell her ideas were stupid?”

Charlie: “That’s kinda the whole thing about hell. Nobody here gives a damn.”

Vaggie: “Huh.”

Charlie: “It’s nice, sometimes. It’s just also mostly horrible, and nobody else thinks it can change.”

Vaggie: “Now THAT’S dumb. Everything can change.”

Charlie: “You think so?”

Vaggie: “I’m living, bandaged proof of it.”

Charlie: (rolling over to face vaggie and propping herself up) “You are? What changed for you?”

Vaggie: "Um."

Charlie: "If you don't mind me asking!"

Vaggie: “Well I, I used to…” (cringes) “…I did. Stuff.”

Charlie: “Stuff you don’t have to do anymore.”

Vaggie: “Yeah. And. Now I’m starting to think- maybe ending up in hell wasn’t such a bad thing after all.”

Charlie: “Really?”

Vaggie: “Yeah.”

Charlie: “You like it better here..?”

Vaggie: “…….I like who I am here, better.”

Charlie: “Good.” (snuggles back down) “THAT’S what I wish hell could be like for everyone.”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “If you’ve got your mind set on it, then I’m sure it will be one day.”

Charlie: “Hmm~” (dozing off) “That’s probably the nicest thing…. anyone’s ever said… to….”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “Charlie?”

Charlie: (snores)

Vaggie: “Right….” (reaches over to gingerly tuck charlie in) “…sleep well, princess.”

Vaggie: (falls asleep soon after too)

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #incorrect quotes #silly headcanons #u betcha vaggie rolled over in the night and charlie got up with her alarm to roll her back onto the non-stabbed side #u betcha vaggie slept right through the night for the first time #since Stuff Happened #and woke up to charlie's snoring in the morning #thinking to herself- damn #this definitely wouldn't be the /worst/ way to spend forever #XD

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hyunsibae · 1 month ago

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SAME OLD FWB

Warnings: 18+ Content, cursing, mentions of getting drink spiked, oral sex, a bit of aggression, both are genuinely down bad for each other, you’re very blind sighted, maybe deaf, with possible amnesia. Heh.. no shade. (Barely proof read)

Note: Just enjoy :)

Naive, avoidant, it’s doesn’t last long we’ve all been there. Everyone falls into temptation from time to time… :))

Forced, woken out of your dreams just to go out. Your friend bragged on and on about getting an invitation from some fancy club called ‘dark delite.’ Forcing you to come with her even though you weren’t invited yourself, she still begged on and on.

The club was located just at the corner of the city, being hidden from civilization’s eyes, only those who had some type of status could attend. So how did this knuckle head get a ticket way in? The stairs led you to a dim room where you’d be patted down before actually entering the chaotic atmosphere.

Though you wonder how long she could actually stay with you without being dragged out by some guy for.. you know what.

“I think I just saw the guy who invited me.”

“What?” You yelled over the blaring music, huge speakers shaking the whole building. Already regretting the moment you even thought about agreeing with this idea, going out on a Sunday knowing work would be waiting in the morning.

“I said-“ your friend, synne, tried to explain once more but you couldn’t care less. Getting more and more agitating as the time goes by. “Why are we here again?” You asked in that irritated voice of yours.

“Seriously? Have you not been listening to me the whole night? To find the guys and get laid.” You stared at her happy but stupid expression, wondering why you’re still friends with this stupido. Remembering that she’s the only one who’s truly been there for you, like the sister you’ve never had.

Though times like these could really make you doubt your reasoning for thinking so.

“I don’t get you, you came out to uhh… whatever the name of this club is, just to get laid? And then what?” You questioned, only to realize that she’s already gone and have left you alone. Which is a shame because you could really use some company.

Atleast with the way you’re dress, tight red dress, blue sparkles at the hems, with your back in the open. Don’t even start with the heels, oh, you could kill for a pair of slippies(your word for slippers ) You found yourself cornering up at a bar, texting synne’s phone repeatedly with no answer.

The place is gigantic, you feel like your head is spinning, not taking another drink from here. Anyone could spike it with every foul thought in mind, you would never let that happen to you, you’ve got too much to lose. “I’m never going out with her again, I swear to fuckin-“

“Language, my love.” You stayed in your chair, trying not to mind the man with a voice that could make you beg for- NO, NO, NO, NO, NO. You shook your head to ignore him, hearing a scoff before a sniff of pride. “Playing hard to get? That won’t last long.”

“Please leave me alone.” You sighed, hands in your lap as you felt him towering over you from behind. Again, rush of regret filling your mind. The bartender ignored it all, she was a lady of her own yet she simply walked off into the back. You could not believe it, where are your girls when you need em’?

“But I’m not bothering you.” He adds, it’s clear that’s he’s quite stubborn. It’s far too obvious of your clear annoyance, attitude, and maybe the fact that you’re all by yourself about to fucking crash out.

“Fine, I’ll put it this way, I’m not interested.”

“Aww, that’s just too bad.”

“Yeah, it really is.” You scoffed, honestly, the audacity of him to just continue to make his move on you and think it’s okay. Who does this guy think he is?

He chuckles, sitting in the seat next to yours. The man rung a bell which was at the front of the counter, ringing for the bartender. “Mm… could I get a bottle of Krug Clos du Mesnil '09.” He ordered.

She smiled softly, “will that be all?” She eyed you but you simply nodded as if that was all. “Yeah, no, actually could I get two with that?” You huffed at his words, what was his deal? What did he want from you? You were ready to get up, clutching your belongings until he called out for you.

“Y/n please sit down.”

Fuck, that was too familiar, that felt too close. And for a second you almost thought it was- “it’s been so long since I’ve you.” That man, is Hwang Hyunjin for sure.

You two go way back, up to high school. Growing up together was a sure pleasure because the both of you related to so many things in life. So you had each other. And then college came, when you were getting curious, he was the most experienced. So what’s the best idea? A fuck with strings attached.

You’ve quite actually ghosted him but before that you two were friends with benefits. Due to some technical(you got a boyfriend) difficulties… you had to block him on everything and never go anywhere near him. But as the time passed, the difficulty was gone and you no longer had anyone at the moment.

Why didn’t you call him? Because you’d be too embarrassed to explain to him why you actually stopped talking to him, just like right now. Instead of regret there’d be shame rushing through you. A completely flushed face.

You turned his way with a nervously crooked smile. “Oh.. I don’t know it was you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Like I said, it’s been awhile.” He eyed you sharply, the sight from the back of his mind running wild. You wore a charming dress, one that had his mind lingering to places where it shouldn’t but it could. Like when you two first hit it off. That night you clung onto him so hard that his shoulders were covered in scars, so he marked your neck with the same scar but this time more noticeable.

You caught on, you knew that look. The way his eyes pulled down to your neck, his favorite spot. Because it still shows that he’s been there and will always be there “Stop that, you fucking pervert..” He chuckled again, different from when you were unaware who he was. “Surprised you haven’t hid it, can’t you get it removed?”

“No, I quite actually like it.”

“Like? You loved it back then.”

“Shut up, actually.” You were completely embarrassed, but for some reason you can’t bring yourself to leave.

“What happened?” The question came and now you were ready to jump up and leave.

“I don’t know what you mean hyunjin,” that was a lie and now you’re going to be sorting this out with more lies. “That’s bullshit and you know it.” He huffed, the drink that never came would be really handy right but the bartender never made her way out.

“Let’s not talk about this right now, another time. Or at least not while we’re in here.” Yeah, when you’re not already shaking from your surroundings. It’s bad enough that this place has you spiraling but him here just gives you a good headache.

“Then let’s go.” He stood up, grabbing your things for you with one hand while reaching out for you with the other. “I’ll call my driver and we could go my place.” Hyunjin was dead serious about this, he’s never given up on anything, not you or anything else. The desire to be with you may or may not be driven by the fact that you have on such a luscious on, it fit your body perfectly, he had to do something.

You looked up hesitating, torn between your control and him. But what’s the worst that could happen?

“On your knees, now.” His voice was commanding, giving you no chance to protest as he pulled you down in front of him while he sat on the couch. The heat between you was undeniable, and he wasn’t willing to wait until you made it to the bedroom. He needed you here, right now, and deep down, it was exactly what you had been craving.

Your body shuddered, legs trembling as you’re still obeying. The floor was cold, and so was your body, drenched in sweat. From what? Two words, Hwang Hyunjin and that’s all that needed to be said. “He must’ve been so much better huh?" Looking up at him with a mix of desperation in your eyes. “No I-“

“Shut up.”

You kept your head low, glancing up at him through your lashes with that irresistible look. But he wasn’t swayed—his gaze was sharp and full of control. With a sly smirk from your face, you crawled closer in between his legs, “can’t I just make this all up to you?”

“By?”

“By sucking you off..?”

He scoffed at the thought and grabbing a handful of your hair. “You’ve got a pretty high ego to think that I’d forgive you just like that,” you pleaded with your hands, scooting up a bit closer. “Please?”

His breath turning shaky, hiding the obvious need to devour you whole. “If you please…”

You nodded, eyes locked onto his throbbing member through clothes. There’s no way he’s visibly that big even without being out, it makes you jump as you popped out his cock. Tongue darting out to wet your lips as you lean in close.

Without hesitation, You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, sucking gently as your tongue swirls around the tip. You start bobbing your head and maybe some side to side action, taking more of him into my your throat with each pass.

He looks down, grunting as your warm mouth envelops his throbbing member. Feeling the tip your uvula, making you gag around him. “Shit, shit, shit…~” It followed a moan, one you’d never heard before, could this get any better? “That’s it.. yeah…” He threads his fingers through your hair, guiding your head up and down as you reached up and under to massage his balls.

And at some point he let go, chuckling darkly, while enjoying the sensation of your tongue and teeth working on his thick flesh.

You took a deep breath through your nose, preparing yourself to swallow more of his length. As he thrusts forward a bit , you relax your throat muscles, allowing him to slide even further inside. Gagging once more but quickly recovering, happy to take everything given to you, happy to fulfill his needs and make up everything to him. Your nose presses against his pubic bone as you work your way down, savoring the musk of his arousal.

He quickly shoved his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, gasping for air. A strand of saliva connects my lower lip to his slick cockhead. “What’s wrong?”

He looked away, bitten lips almost bleeding, swollen, as if they’d been through teeth clamping against them for who knows how long or hard. Only you knew what this was, the same way you couldn’t control yourself was the same way he couldn’t. Another issue that’s inevitable.

“Oh, I see what this is. You can’t handle me.” You smirked in a tease, eyes filled with mischief.

“No, shut up.” His voice almost cracking, it’s just when you knew, just how badly things were getting for him.

“It must feel so good that you have to pull away, or you might just snap. Awww.” He hated teasing, as if being looked down on, he wanted to stay in control. But now it’s like you’re controlling him.

“Hyunjin~..”

“N-no.” A big breath from his lips, chest heaving slowing up and down.

“Hyunnnnee~” A fake moan to mimick one thing or another, we all know what it means. He looked back at with you with those try hard eyes, to make you somewhat intimidated. But you were no where near intimidated. For behind those eyes, he were just another version of you, desperate, you’re desperate for each other.

You positioned your tongue right under his tip, mouth wide while sticking out your tongue, presenting yourself for him to use as he pleases. Your eyes suddenly are half-lidded with lust, “let’s finish what we started.”

Your lips enveloping him with all might, again slowly before picking up with the pace. His hands gripped the sides of his thighs and soon to your hair just before releasing his warmth into your throat.

“Am I forgiven now” you smiled slyly, swallowing once more before looking up to him. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, hands sliding down his face. “No you’re not, and you’ve gotten yourself in even more trouble now.”

“What?! You’re no fun.” You huffed, guess your morning shift is getting skipped.

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the-record · 11 months ago

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COWBOYS LIKE ME

SYNOPSIS: youll never stop letting her in.

PAIRING: cowboy!abby x reader

WARNINGS: none??

A/N: yall remember when i wrote some fics and made a ton of ideas and series and then disappeared??? WOOPS!! heres a little holiday present!! maybe there will be more, idk

my masterlist

after that last night, abby hadnt shown at your door again. she knew she was wrong for it, for everything. all you had done was love and care for her, treating her with sweet southern kindness. she hated herself for leaving you.

you couldn’t find it within your heart to hate her. she didn’t lie when she said it wasn’t safe for the two of you beyond the farm. it still didn’t make it hurt any less when she left without a word.

you gave up after three months and she didnt come by even once. you fell back into your regular routine. afternoon tea, church, chores. you even found a bookstore that would fill the quiet hours between tasks.

abby didn’t forget about you though, how could she? she had people all around town keeping an eye on you, ensuring you were never around danger. subtle misdirections and such. just because she couldn’t be there didn’t mean she doesn’t care.

you’d attempted to forget her, and almost had.

but it was cold and snowy out, just days before christmas, and abby found herself close to the only place she could call home.

you werent shocked to hear a knock ok your door so late in the evening, figuring one of the ladies had stopped by with news and a gift. but seeing her at your door stopped your heart.

“can i come in?” you ushered her in, taking in her shivering frame. “im really sorry if im putting you out, but could i stay here? just for a night if thats all you please.”

you nodded, just enough to see, still starstruck. she smiled softly and knocked you out of your state. you grabbed the snowy coat off her shoulders, helping her take off those boots you knew didnt do much in this cold. you pulled her to the fire place, setting her beside it and finding a blanket to wrap around her body.

she laughed as you sat beside her, just staring. “gotta love southern hospitality.” she joked, but you barely laughed. abby sighed and picked at her fingers, “i really am sorry. i feel i cant stop hurting you.”

you merely nodded before getting up. heading to the kitchen, your head clouded as you fell into routine. as you put the kettle on, you couldnt help but wonder why she was back on your doorstep. you didnt stop wondering even as you watched the tea steep, when you brought it back to the now warmer blonde.

but when you held it out to her, you didnt let go. “are you gonna leave again?” her silence was answer enough. your hand dropped and you turned, leaving for your room.

abby flinched when your door slammed.

her boots still sat beneath your bed, gathering dust, fingerprints still visible from the last time you missed her. you listened to her footsteps as your fingers brushed all over the shoes.

she roamed the kitchen, cleaning it the best she could before she made her way upstairs. abby didnt want to hurt you. she loved you, even if she struggled to say it. when she knocked she heard a quiet ‘come in’, yet she still hesitated at the door.

the door opened for her. you staring up at her blank face, a tear stain she wanted to wash away and never see again.

“i love you.”

when the sun streamed in the next morning, it didnt fall on just you. a weight slung over your stomach, one of abby’s arms dead weight across you. you couldn’t help but smile.

when it snowed again the next day, the bed was cold, but the house wasn’t. downstairs, abby had the fire going and breakfast on the stove for the both of you.

and when the sun shown and the birds sang months later, she laid in bed watching your peaceful sleep.

her cuts and bruises had long disappeared. that chill she had that made her shake, warmed. the emptiness she had felt for all those years, had been filled with love and care she yearned for her whole life.

she felt it when she saw you.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x fem!reader #abby my beloved #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader

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writingsfromhome · 9 months ago

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Dos and Don’ts II

A/N: the story kinda got away from me so it’s getting a part 3. Would love to know what you think of the characters/choices!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

It’s a beautiful morning; the late summer heat is right around the hour but for now the morning clouds keeps the city cool. I’m sat at Harry’s dinner table with stacks of paper around me, sorting out paperwork whilst on hold with a private venue he was playing in the fall to sort out some details his manager asked me for.

I had become good at my job, multitasking like a pro and not having to leave the room to make a call. After all, it had been nearly half a year of this.

And yet, my relationship with Harry Styles had stayed the same. Sometimes it felt like it got worse.

My other relationships, in the rest of my life, had definitely gotten worse.

“Riley just called said he’s sent over some prints I bought for the bedroom,” Harry pops into the room. “Can you call someone to put them up?”

“Yeah, where do you want them?” I get up so he can show me.

“Somewhere that looks good in there,” he waves his hand. “It’s pictures of me.”

“Of course they are,” I know how big-headed he could be. “Above the bed?”

“Hm,” he heads off to the bedroom so I follow. He examines each wall of his bedroom which was pretty neutral and relaxing to be in. “Why not? Yeah. Above the bed’s good.”

“Great.” With that I head back to my makeshift office.

I wondered why Riley didn’t message me directly about the prints considering we avoided getting Harry involved in these minor decisions.

Maybe I’d ask him tonight. We were having drinks—we tried a bunch of times to get together seeing we were “coworkers” but our timing rarely worked out. Since Gray was out of town the next two nights I’d reached out to Riley.

Evening comes quicker while I’m still buried behind paper. I start tidying up after 7.

“Going home?” Harry asks. He’d been out most of the day at voice lessons.

“Yes, your dinner’s in the oven and Roy said he left cocktails in the fridge.”

“Lovely Roy,” Harry rubs his hands together. “He makes the best drinks.”

I smile and go back to work.

“There’s enough for two,” he calls with his head in the fridge. “You want to join?”

Of course the one night Harry asks me to join him personally—a time I could use to get on his good side, I’m going out.

“I’m actually heading out for drinks myself.” He’s already placed the jug on the marble countertop.

“Oh.” He freezes awkwardly. “With your fiancé?”

“No,” for some reason I feel flustered at his mention of Gray. “With Riley actually. We’ve been meaning to get together for drinks since…I started. Wow. That’s been a long time.”

“Riley,” Harry purses his lips. “Does your fiancé know?”

“It’s a friendly drink,” I feel my temper flare. “I don’t need to report to my fiance.”

“If my fiancé was going out to drinks with a man with loose hands, I’d worry.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re not engaged,” I mouth off before I can stop myself. He raises a brow and the single movement has me backpedaling. I was such a coward. “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Y/n you get away with a lot but I’d remember who’s working for who.”

I clench my teeth. Just seconds ago he was inviting me for a drink and now I’ve dug myself a grave. I couldn’t be stopped.

I grab my bag and head to the elevator.

“Don’t turn your back on him once he’s got a few drinks in.” Harry calls out.

Asshole, I think.

***

God, Riley talked a lot. He’s got 3 drinks to my 1.5 and really got the gift of the gab.

That is until he starts asking me about Harry.

“Do you find him hot? He’s kind of a lady’s man yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” I laugh. “Got ‘em all lined up.”

“And you?” He asks casually. “Has he got you yet?”

“Riley! I’m engaged,” I flash my ring.

“Didn’t stop the last girl,” he mutters.

“What? What’s that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” I poke him, knowing he wanted to talk about it anyway.

“Just that the last PA he had for…less than a year? She had a boyfriend and everything but one time I pop in early to set up for this masseuse right—I’m there and I hear someone in the bedroom with him. No big deal whatever. Then Harry comes out and he’s fuming just seeing me. Tells me to get out and leave the rest, that I should have called him. All this shite. And then I see her jacket, she wore a very specific jacket, and her shoes off the way. He was angry cuz I caught them.”

“Woah,” I think about the way Harry treats me. “Well I don’t have to worry about that. He can be a right dick with me.”

“He can come off that way. Until you get to know him. Well. He used to be nicer. It’s changed a bit since I started.”

“How long?” I ask, curious.

“Uhh I was his PA for a year and now this for one and a half?”

“Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know. Too long. Well, big things are coming for me I can feel it. How about you? Are you staying long? I hear the way he talks to you, I don’t know how you put up with it.”

I thought he talked to all his PAs that way. Maybe he was different when Riley was his. Of maybe it was that Riley was a guy. Maybe the fame got to his head. “Uhm. I want to stick around for at least a year. What do you mean the way he talks to me?”

“He’s rude.” Riley runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you find him rude? You’re surprisingly…graceful, but he’s always bossing you around and then ignoring you.”

I feel a pit in my stomach. So I wasn’t imagining it. “I thought that’s just the way he is.”

“No, you should have met him a couple years ago. A really cool guy. He taught me a lot.” Riley suddenly sobers as he looks off into the distance. “I grew a lot with him. I’m thankful for that y’know?”

“Right,” I nod. “Yeah. I dunno. I’m hoping to learn a lot here.”

“Well if you want to stay connected, keep my number. When you wanna jump ship just let me know.”

I’m surprised Riley is talking so openly about helping me leave. I would have thought he was a Harry die-hard.

“Yeah. Hey are you the one that’s created all those notes on the phone? They’ve been a life saver.”

“Notes? Oh the lists. I made them when I was his PA. I don’t know if the last girl updated any…”

I think of the snarky additions. She definitely did.

“Well I owe you my first-born because without them I’m pretty sure I would have been fired.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” he smirks.

“Uh yeah, I forgot to bring his bloody tablet to the studio the first day. He was so mad.”

“He wouldn’t fire you y/n,” he cocks his head to the side. “Not with the way I see it.”

“Huh?” I ask but Riley’s turned to the bar to ask for another drink.

I excuse myself and freshen up, checking my phone for messages. Gray’s sent me a picture of his hotel view and I send him a quick text back. I wish he was here. Maybe it was time I got home, I was starting to feel tired.

“I’m thinking of heading home,” I tell Riley when I get back.

“Now?” He looks at his watch. “Night’s still young y/l/n.”

“I’ve been up since 6 I’m dead.”

“Fine, I’ll walk you outside.” Riley knocks back half his drink and stands, swaying slightly. I put my hand out to steady him and he smiles down at me.

The pub is crowded as we walk past people, shoulders brushing against strangers. It takes me a second to feel the hand on my back sliding down to my ass.

I whip around to chew out whichever stranger thought he could get a grope but the only person behind me is Riley with a cocky smile.

“You alright? Let’s keep going.”

I can hear the blood pumping in my ears and I stumble back, Harry’s words echoing in my ear.

“I’m alright.” I try to put distance between us. “I’ll walk myself out you should look after your drink.”

“Nah c’mon,” he reaches for me again and I inch back.

“I said I’m okay,” I know my voice comes out harsh due to the fear coursing through my body. But I don’t care.

“Bloody hell alright then,” Riley shrugs. “Night y/n.”

I wait for him to turn and leave before I get out of there. The night air cools down the flush in my cheeks but I can’t get my heart to stop racing. Harry was right and for some reason it makes me angry at him. I’m furious.

All these men just made me feel small and confused all the time. Is that what I had to accept working in this industry? Was I just naïve for thinking things could be decent? That people could be decent?

I wish more than ever that Grayson was here. I imagine him on his own in another city. Then I imagine him alone, at home, while I’m working all the time. It felt like we were on a piece of ice drifting through the ocean and the middle was cracking leaving us to drift alone. My heart feels like it’s cracking with it.

I call Gray on the ride home just to see his face. I listen to him talk about his day and slowly my grip on the anger loosens. Slowly with his voice in my ear, I come back down to earth.

***

It’s a couple weeks after the Riley incident. I’d come into work the next day and managed to ignore Harry for most of it just like he did me.

Today I’m back at the dining table waiting for Harry’s publicist to call me to take me through what was left for this upcoming weekend for a small awards show Harry had been nominated in that was happening Sunday. Riley would be on the call too, the first time I’d seen him since that night. I just hoped my pokerface was good enough to move on past any awkwardness.

“Let me get your thoughts on this,” Harry sits down across from me with a yoghurt. He’d just come from the gym and seeing him shirtless now was just another Thursday afternoon.

He’d taken to using me as a soundboard lately which started out interesting and got old quickly. He loved to hear himself talk, I’ve concluded. And I was forced to listen. And he always lied. He never wanted my thoughts on anything, just an ego stroke.

And just like usual he launches into a song he’s working on and something about string progression and inversion. I nod along until my phone rings and I pick it up instantly.

Graham and I speak about the details of event and I reassure him everything would run smoothly. When I’m done Harry’s nearly done the smoothie he grabbed while I was on the phone.

“Austria tomorrow, everything’s prepped?”

“Yep, for you.”

“Not for you?”

“I have the rest of the week off?” I remind him just like I’d been doing for the last two weeks. So this wouldn’t happen.

“You do? I thought that was next week. What am I gonna do without you there it’s 4 days.”

“I reckon you’ll survive,” I say with a light tone but I’ve learned the art of backhanded jokes. It felt like the only way to get some of my aggression out. “Plus Riley’s joining you Saturday afternoon.”

“So I’ll be alone on Friday?”

I look up from my laptop, “Are you ever really alone?”

“I guess I’ll just have to invite one of my girls to keep me company,” he continues watching me. “Keep my bed warm.”

“If you’d like,” I hated when he tried to make me uncomfortable. “Let me know which one and I can cut her a ticket.”

He clenches his jaw and levels me with an irritated look. “I’m sure Vienna has many beautiful people to choose from.”

Ignore ignore ignore. I go back to my screen and leave him on heard.

***

“It’s been too long,” Gray clinks his glass with mine. It’s Friday night and we’re having an early anniversary celebration.

This whole weekend I promised Gray I would be his from Friday though Sunday even though our actual anniversary was on Monday.

Our relationship that was once so strong, supportive, and loving had started treading rocky grounds. I felt jostled and very close to being kicked right off the ride altogether.

I look at my fiancé’s face, his dark features and serious looks made him look intimidating but a flicker of his smile and you felt like you were on the ins with him about something. I had missed him.

The last time we did anything together was at the beginning of summer. I had a long weekend off and he’d driven us to lake district, soaking in the sun and hiking along the peaks. We’d had a serious conversation about our relationship but a lot of it had felt like me apologizing and him accusing.

“You look radiant,” Gray reaches for my hand. “How are you?”

I didn’t think he wanted the real answer. I hold back a sigh and replace it with a smile, “Alright. Better now to be with you.”

He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach flutters. “Me too. I’m excited for this weekend.”

“Let’s see we’re seeing friends tomorrow for brunch, then doing old school movies and dinner in the evening.”

“That was one of our first dates don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s a classic I’m excited. It’s been so long since I saw a movie with you.”

With Harry, I’d seen a few. I was always told to tag along on premieres Riley passed on.

“And Sunday we’re just being lazy bed bugs.”

“Mmm that sounds amazing.” I could use a day in bed. A week in bed would be even better.

The night is perfect and romantic and it soothes the heartache I’d been carrying, the guilt that I was killing my relationship. Gray is attentive and we laugh like we always did.

I don’t mention work. It makes me anxious knowing I had to put the biggest part of my life on mute in order to keep the good vibes going with Gray.

Saturday brunch brings me back to life. I’d missed our friends and catching up on their lives, all the chatter and the laughter. Gray keeps reaching for me at the table and I feel like I belong.

“So how’s the tyrant?” My friends had started calling Harry that since he always kept me from most of our social outings.

“The usual,” I try to keep it short for Gray’s sake.

“Grayson was complaining that you spend more time with him than your actual fiancé!”

“Is that so?” I turn to Gray with a teasing expression but he’s serious.

“I wouldn’t have helped her with the job if I knew,” Gray jokes when I nudge him. The table laughs but I fake it, knowing the kernel of truth in it.

“He can’t be all that bad?” Another friend asks.

“Nope. Pretty consistently bad,” I tell them. “I’m just telling myself it’s vital experience. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“When she sleeps at all,” Gray slips in another passive joke and I try to distance myself from it.

“Just wait, in a couple years I’ll be living my best life.” I raise my glass.

“To y/n’s best life,” the table cheers.

On the walk home from brunch Gray and I swing hands in between us. I want to bring up his passive comments but it feels stuck in my throat. His hand feels like lead in mine.

“Gray-“

“I’m sorry. I got a bit salty at brunch,” Gray admits. I nearly deflate completely with the sigh that comes out of me.

“That’s okay,” I kiss his cheek. His hand feels like an extension of mine again. “I know there’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, I know my job doesn’t make you happy. But I appreciate that you still support me and keep the peace even when I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”

“Hey,” Gray stops and tugs me to him. “I love you. Nothing changes that.”

“I love you too,” he kisses me with the same passion he did last night, our first intimate night after a couple months. With the urgency in his kiss I can tell it wouldn’t be another couple until the next.

***

We get back in around 8 and I happily kick off the dress and boots I wore to dinner to snuggle in my pjs. I watch Gray remove his contacts as I comb through my hair.

“I still can’t believe that ending,” Gray says to me in the mirror.

“Same, I feel like everyone’s kept it so hush I didn’t even know there was going to be a plot twist!”

“I kind of saw it coming-“

“You did not!” I flick Gray. “Why do guys love to brag about seeing a movie ending coming.”

“It’s our roman empire,” he grins.

“You’re using that in the wrong context,” I roll my eyes. “Josie would be so disappointed. Oh I didn’t even turn my phone back on after the movie, Josie had texted me something.”

“Just leave it,” Gray calls out as I go back into the room to get my purse. “Let’s keep our phones off, stay unplugged tonight.”

“Too late,” I grin as my phone powers on already.

I know Gray stayed nervous about any call I got during our down time because he always thought it was Harry. To be honest I was surprised he hadn’t bothered me more than asking for a password yesterday.

As my services connect my phone vibrates with a dozen oncoming messages.

“Y/n,” I hear Grayson say in warning but my eyes stay glued to the screen that flicker with notifications.

I look up once they settle, my eyes are as wide as saucers and Gray’s watch me through the mirror, heavy and resigned.

“Please, ignore it,” Gray pleads just once.

“I just…I need to know what it’s about.” I plead back.

“It’s going to spiral,” he warns. “You can’t just look y/n you’re gonna get involved.”

“What if it’s an emergency? He wouldn’t message like this unless it’s an emergency!”

“Like the documents on Josie’s birthday? Or the hospital appointment that one bank holiday? Or his empty fridge on-“

“I get it. But Gray I have 14 notifications. And it’s from his manager too it’s gotta be an-“

“You have a life y/n!” Gray turns around quick like a pistol whip, I stumble back into the doorframe. “He has other people in his life other than you they can figure it out! Why do you keep putting your job, this man, before me? Before us?!”

“I’m not trying to! I’m not!” I stutter.

“What’s the worst case scenario huh? He tries you, and you don’t answer because you’re off. And he’ll find someone else to help—those type always have someone else.”

“You don’t get it-“

“I get it.” Gray lowers his volume. He looks around for his glasses and slides them on. “I get it clearly. You’re just scared you’re replaceable to Harry Styles.”

His words stun me a little. All I can do is watch as he puts on jeans and grabs his phone.

“Do you ever wonder who else in your life’s replaceable?” Gray says before he slams our door shut.

I sink back and my mind races with everything Grayson just said. I was awful, he must feel even more awful and I-

My phone vibrates. Jeff.

“H-hi?” I answer.

“What the fuck y/n! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last 2 hours-“

“My phone was off-“

“Have you even gotten any of the messages we’ve left you-“

“I’m not working today-“

“Obviously,” He cuts me off for the hundredth time. “Harry’s in Vienna alone with god knows who!”

I don’t point out the contradiction in his sentence.

“Isn’t Riley supposed to be with him?”

“Riley quit.”

“What?! When?”

“Today. Apparently the sneak’s been cozying up with one of Harry’s supposed friends. He’s left us high and dry!”

“Is that why you’re calling me?” My confusion grows.

“Jesus no. Just look at your bloody messages.”

I put him on speaker and check the link to the photos he sent me. I gasp.

Harry looks a mess, one in a bar and another right outside it. With a questionable choice of friends.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Jeff continues. “Nobody can reach him and Riley decided to courier the stupid phone back to the penthouse so we don’t have access to his gps. But you do. That’s why I’m trying to reach you y/n. You’ve gotta go there and get him home.”

“Get him home? He’s in another country!”

“Yes, for that niche fucking awards show. You gotta get him back to his hotel and sober him up. We paid some fucker way too much money not to leak these photos and I don’t want to find out some other fucker took more.”

“Isn’t this something his publicist should be doing? Or you?” I’m starting to get angry. Why was Harry like a big fucking toddler that I had to go get when he was misbehaving. “I took the weekend off-“

“Listen. Y/n. We will pay you 5 times your rate if you just get on a plane and sort him out. I’m in Iceland right now. On holiday! Nobody is paying me 5 times the amount to deal with this and I don’t get back to the UK until tomorrow.”

“His publicis-“

“And Graham is the one that caught all this but he doesn’t fly out until tomorrow. So that leaves you. Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

I think about Gray, should I call him? Let him know? Fuck. Fuck Harry and his ability to ruin my whole life.

“I don’t have a choice here do I?” I ask wearily.

“Sure you do, one gets you a nice pay check. The other doesn’t.”

“Fuck,” I swear just loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know when the next flight is.”

“There’s a private jet that can leave within the hour I’ll text you the address can you make it?”

I map it. 30 or so minutes away. I look around my room—I had my emergency duffle with my passport the Harry Survival Guide told me to keep so I didn’t need to pack much.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

***

“Out of all the fucking nights,” I swear as I take the elevator down. The flight had been under 2 hours and I’d kept my eyes glued to Harry’s phone locator. He’d moved one location so far. The hotel wasn’t too far from this location so I drop my bags off on the en-suite and head out into the beautiful city.

It’s buzzing despite the hour and I wish it was a calmer trip so I could take pictures and soak in the beauty of Vienna.

Instead I trudge on to the little dot on my phone and avoid thinking about Gray and how much he would love this city. And how badly I betrayed him tonight.

What to do when he won’t answer the phone: track his gps, get good at lock-picking and don’t be shy to call whoever he’s out with to get ahold of him. Harry not answering his phone unexpectedly usually means bad decisions.

I find Harry in a kitschy club but it’s not easy. In the flashes of blue and purple lights I sort through all the men about the same height as him. None of them are him.

I knew he was here. I scan the room a second time, he had to be in one of the private sections.

I walk the perimeter until I see a flash of a familiar laugh.

“Harry!” I shout but a man in a suit steps in front of me.

“Private area,” he says in a rough accent.

“I’m his assistant I need to see him!” I point to Harry but he just steps in my way again. I shout Harry’s name and on the second try he looks up.

“Heyy!” He lights up and picks his way over the people sitting around him. He loops his arm around the brick wall in front of me. “That’s y/n! Y/n you came let her in!”

“Thank you,” I shoot the man a dirty look even though I knew he was just doing his job. He was the difference between a PR disaster and no disaster. “Harry we-“

“Have a drink!” He slurs. My heart quickens when I get a glimpse of the table with an assortment of drugs all over it. “Relax. C’mon c’mon!”

Harry pours me champagne and leads me by the hand to where he was just sitting. A couple shift away to make room for me but I stay standing as Harry sinks into the cushion.

“Mr. Styles we-“

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Harry says seriously before bursting into laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this uninhibited before. One part of me is nervous and another part finds it intriguing.

He tugs me down and I tip into the couch, the champagne sloshing over the rim. What the-

“Relax,” he whispers into my ear. It goes straight to my stomach. “Have some champagne and enjoy the night!”

“I want to-“

“Your fiancé won’t let you drink with me? Is that the issue here?”

“No,” I bite. “I am taking you back-“

“I,” Harry sits up and hovers over me. “I am not speaking to you until you drink! Good god woman, lean back! Relax! What do Americans say take a chill pill?”

“I don’t need a chill pill.”

Harry mimes zipping his lips closed.

I roll my eyes and bring the champagne to my lips to take a mock sip but he must anticipate this. Using his finger he tips the glass even further. Half of it drips down my chin.

“Agh!” I jerk the glass away but Harry just laughs. “This is so not funny.”

He leans in smiling. I expect him to stop but he continues moving into me until his lips are on my jaw. His mouth coasts over my skin before he buries his head in my neck where the champagne had dripped down leaving a pool of heat-

“Harry!” I jerk away and push my hands into his chest to prop him up. His eyes are half-closed but as intense as ever as he looks into mine.

What the fuck. What the fuck just happened.

My hands are shaking, steady only because of the force of Harry pressing into them. I feel the tears springing to my eyes, why the fuck did he just…

“Sorry,” he smiles, his finger brushing my cheek. “Y’had some champagne there.”

It was nothing, I tell myself. He’s drunk and taken god knows what. He’s out of his mind. And he was going for the champagne, not me.

I loosen my arms but he comes back towards me again.

“Fuck this,” I mutter. I push him back into the sofa and get up. “We are going back to the hotel. Now.”

“Just stay a little longer here. It’s life. I’m bloody famous!” His hands come around my waist to pull me towards him but I dig my heel in.

I grab him by the shirt and haul his lanky body up, it’s like lifting a slab of marble. We nearly fall into the table but I catch us on my back leg in time.

I get us outside and call a taxi. Harry sways into me and I help keep him up.

“S’cold,” he complains.

“It’s really not.” I look back to him but he doesn’t look good. I lean him against the wall gently. “Harry look at me.”

He eyes stay closed but his head bobbles and he starts to tip forward again.

“Harry!” I nearly slap him. Instead I push him against the wall and use my body to keep him propped upright. I grab his face in my hands. “Harry look at me you’re scaring me.”

“You’re scaring me,” he slurs.

I shake his face a bit and try to pry open an eye which makes him laugh.

“I was alone,” he mumbles.

“I am not carrying you into or out of that car so you better stay conscious.” I tap his cheek.

“You’re no fun.” He says and I ignore him. “I was alone but you came.”

“Not out of any choice,” I mumble.

Our taxi arrives and I’m shaking him every few minutes to keep him conscious. At the hotel I get some help to his room when they recognize his face.

I drop him in bed with a sigh of relief. He looked pathetic like that. And I wanted to cry out of frustration.

I take his shoes off and then his shirt, deciding to keep his trousers on. I leave a bottle of water on his bedside with painkillers and head to the bathroom. For the second time tonight I get ready for bed.

I scrub the sticky champagne out of my neck and block out the feeling of his lips on me. Block out the confusing feelings that arose.

I grab my phone and pray for a text from Gray but there’s nothing. I update Jeff and he sends me a thumbs up. All that and just a fucking thumbs up.

***

Still no text from Gray the next morning.

Harry’s still in bed when I get up. I crack on and order both of us breakfast, ordering the most expensive things just to get something out of being here.

Harry wakes to the smell of coffee, groaning as soon as he sits up. I don’t know what he took last night but it serves him right.

“Y/n?” He sounds just as confused as last night.

“In the flesh,” I nearly growl.

“I thought Riley’s s’pose to be here?”

“So you do remember I’m supposed to be off all weekend.” I can’t hold back on the sass. I’m too mad at everyone.

“Yeah…what?”

“Riley quit.”

“Riley…quit? That’s why you’re here?”

��No.” I want to throw my cup of coffee in his face. “I’m here because you weren’t answering your phone last night and the only updates we were getting were compromising pictures of you absolutely pissed.”

“You sound like my publicist.”

“Your publicist had to pay the photographer off.”

“It couldn’t be that bad,” Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed and winces. He notices the painkillers and pops them. “Did you undress me?”

I pull the photos up on my phone and show them to him. He throws the phone down on the bed after a glance.

“Okay so he sent you to get me back to the hotel?”

“Jeff called me.”

“Jeff’s on holiday.”

“So was I.” My anger brews over. “I had 2 fucking days off Harry and I couldn’t even get that! You had to go to Vienna and get pappd doing the stupidest shit and of course I have to come in and save your ass because I can’t get any time these days to just be!”

He groans as he gets up and shuffles towards me. My heart picks up speed but he simply reaches for the coffee and takes a big gulp. The silence stretches out after my outburst and I wait with an anxious anger for what comes out of his mouth.

“You didn’t have to come. I could have lived with the consequences of being an idiot last night-“

“Jeff didn’t give me a choic-“

“There’s always a choice,” he holds up his finger to my face, hovering an inch from my lips. “Jeff can’t do shite. If he fired you he needs my final say. So again, I didn’t ask you to come here.”

Fuck him, I think. Does he really think I could have said no and gone on with my night? Since it didn’t come out of his mouth, he vanishes any accountability? He’d totally at fault here.

“Secondly,” he wasn’t finished I guess and his eyes are like laser beams into my soul. “It’s Mr. Styles.”

Anything I was about to mouth off on disappears. Like a sinkhole it all collapses below the surface and I’m left feeling as I always did—humiliated.

“Now,” Harry puts his cup down. “That’s not to say thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. I don’t remember a lot of it so I’m not sure what happened but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”

I don’t answer. I bite my tongue until it falls right off and I can swallow it. I wish I could also swallow the memory of his lips that spring to mind.

“It is a Sunday, if you’d like to take it off feel free. The stylist team is coming around 4 to get me ready for tonight.”

“Well, you’ll need me to coordinate this evening since that was the point of Riley being here,” my voice comes out smoother than I felt.

“Ok,” he dismisses me. “I need a shower.”

He leaves and I clench my fists to keep from throwing everything within range at him. How could he flip the script like this? Turn my life upside down and then act like he did nothing wrong?

I go to my phone and hover over Grayson to call him but i have a notification from him. He’s sent me a message, it’s a link.

I click it. It’s a small article in a tabloid about Harry Styles and his mystery woman. You can’t tell it’s me but our pose looks intimate from last night—him leaning against the wall with my knee in between his legs and my body propping him up while my hands hold his face.

But Grayson knows its me.

I get my other phone and message it in the group with Harry’s publicist.

He responds casually: It’ll blow over don’t worry. Can’t see your face plus romantic is better than looking fucked up like the other pics.

It would blow over for Harry but not for me.

I try to call Grayson but he doesn’t pick up.

I close the room door and bury myself in bed, aching so hard it was hard to believe I was still breathing. It felt like an end, I know I could talk it through with Grayson and explain once he saw the other photos. But something feels like it died tonight.

***

“Y/n?” A voice sings outside my door. “Helloo?”

I feel hungover as I open my crusty eyes. I’m in an unfamiliar room and-

“Hello hello?”

I sit up. I was in a hotel suite and I had to help get Harry to his show. Shit.

I look at the time, it’s nearly 5.

“Sorry!” I shout at whoever was behind the door. “Sorry one sec!”

One look in the mirror and I know I had to throw my hair up. I swish some mouthwash around and exit to the lounge.

“Hi,” a woman I’ve never met smiles kindly at me.

“Sorry. Did you need something from me?”

“Yes,” she takes my arm and leads me towards where Harry was getting his hair done. He looks amused as he watches me. “I need you here. We need to get you ready.”

“Oh no,” I say but sit where I’m told by this commanding woman. “Oh I’m just helping coordinate so you just focus on Mr.-“

“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice cuts me off. “Riley comes with me to these things when Jeff isn’t around. Since neither are here you’re joining me and Graham.”

I look for his publicist but I’m told he was running late. Great.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” I say as the woman takes a wet wipe to my face. “I thought I had Sunday off.”

“You reminded me you’re replacing Riley,” Harry says. “And I got the team to get you a few things but I don’t know your size. I’m sure one of them will fit. Kit can tailor it if you need.”

“Wha…” my face is positioned to the side and cream is dotted all over. I shut my mouth and glance at Harry which becomes a glare when I realize he’s enjoying this.

“Lighten up Y/N, it’s not the end of the world.”

He didn’t know. It was the end of my world.

***

The red carpet or whatever this imitation of it was is a sensory nightmare. Graham had explained on the car over I was to stick to the shadows with him and his security detail. I don’t know why they stuck me in this beautifully tailored pantsuit just to be in the shadows. But apparently I could keep it so I was happy about that.

While Harry gets his name shouted and photos taken I watch from the side, hiding behind Graham’s shoulder so I don’t get caught in any pictures. The flashes still make my head hurt.

Again, we stand off to the side as Harry gets interviewed by labels I recognized and others that must be local. One woman has the nerve to ask,

“So Harry the whole internet is dying to know who your mystery woman is. Would you like to give our viewers a hint?”

I stiffen and Graham glances my way with a warning look. He’d already prepped Harry in the car but I couldn’t believe someone would be so bold as to ask. But that was show business.

“Ah you know what the media’s like, all out of context. I love the theories especially the one about this being my secret fiancé but I would like the viewers to know I’m not engaged, very much single, and not to believe everything you see online.”

I hold my breath as Harry answers but he’s a natural, I had to admit. He went off script a little—he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the content of the photo, but he did so with grace and humour. Wow. I could learn a few things.

Graham relaxes beside me once the reporter laughs and asks if he sees himself not being single any time soon. When we finally move on Graham wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gives it a shake.

“You did good kid,” he kisses his cheek with all the leftover adrenaline from the carpet. “I’ll see you in there. I see some friends I want to catch up with first.”

Then it’s just Harry and I, and his shadow of a security detail who Harry dismisses while he’s inside the room.

“So I guess now’s the part you go to your seat?” I ask. There was no What to do at an Awards Show so I was clueless and I decided I would create one myself to keep the legacy of all these dos and don’ts.

“It is,” Harry looks…nervous? His eyes flicker around the room and his jaw twitches. I do a sweep of my own, there’s a lot of people I don’t recognize and those I do I’m just about dying trying to stay casual.

“I thought that reporter was going to propose after you cleared up how single you were.”

“Hm?” Harry looks at me—in heels I was finally near eye-level to him. His gaze clears as he takes in what I said and I consider it a win getting him back down to earth. “Oh. Her, yeah she was cheeky with those questions wasn’t she?”

His smile makes me stomach dip. “Yeah she slipped them in so expertly. I thought ‘I have to take some tips from her’. And you, you were good dodging the question.”

“I didn’t lie,” Harry’s now fully engaged in our conversation. I give myself a pat on the back. “It was just you and I am still single.”

Just you. I fake a laugh, “Yeah. That photo is proof that I’m stronger than I look because you were deadweight and I managed to get you to bed y’know that.”

His green eyes flicker up and down my face for a beat. “I know that. I…hope that picture didn’t get you into any trouble.”

I look away, unsure how to answer. He brings a hand to my arm. “I can talk to someone if it helps?”

“Oh no,” my cheeks flush. “No I don’t think that would make anything better but thank you. I…appreciate the-“

“Harry? Oh my god it’s you!”

I retreat in a quarter of a second, invisible once again for Harry to shine with his colleagues. It’s a singer I recognize but I only remember her stage name, Dragon something. I watch them embrace and I try to wind up the spool of thread I’d released when Harry showed some kindness.

I think I had some issues, I became unrecognizable every time Harry was nice for a moment. I had to remember that it was temporary and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross.

Yesterday flashes into my mind. God, was it just yesterday?

Harry starts walking with the other musician arm in arm. It comes to me as I follow why I knew her. There were rumours shortly before I interviewed with Harry about seeing him on the town with this woman. So they had history. Of course.

By the time Graham joins me in our seats I’ve become part of the wallpaper and I feel like I’m being torn away when he acknowledges me to ask if everything had gone ok. I stay invisible for the rest of the evening and I try to remember that’s how it would be.

***

We’re sat on the tarmac for the ride home and I try to refresh my messages over and over but Gray hasn’t responded after I’d told him we had to talk. He was stupidly good at the cold shoulder and I felt like a needy bitch whenever he got like this.

“Could I get a water y/n?” Harry asks from across the aisle. He has his head tipped back and he looks awful—consequences of an after party where he drank himself silly again and relied on me to get him home. I did make friends with some other PAs who were roped to the party so that was the only highlight.

“Sure.” I go to the front of the jet where Graham is typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the rest of us. I grab Harry a coffee too. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

Harry accepts it graciously and I go back to refreshing my phone.

I thought he’d fallen asleep an hour into the flight until he unbuckles his seat and slips in beside me.

“Can I get your phone?” He holds his hand out.

“Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“You’re driving me crazy refreshing that thing it’s like you’re getting paid per refresh.”

I was lost in a trance doing it. I put the phone facedown on my lap but he takes it from me.

“Hey-“

“I’m keeping this until we land. I promise you if you haven’t gotten any messages by now you won’t get any at all.”

His patronizing tone wriggles something loose and I have to look away, out the window, so he doesn’t see the tears.

“My offer still stands,” he says quietly after my silence. I shake my head.

“Thanks,” my voice wavers. “It won’t help. He just gets…quiet. Any time there’s an issue he just goes quiet and it drives me f…crazy. I feel crazy.”

“You kind of look it.” I’m ready to throw him a dirty look but Harry’s smiling when I look at him. I was rarely on the receiving end of such a handsome look that I forget I was going to be mad. “What? You do, hunched over your phone pressing down over and over. My neck hurts just looking at you.”

I sigh and leans back into the seat, trying to straighten myself out.

“Sorry,” I sniffle. “I just need some sort of proof of life from him. He knows it drives me crazy when he ignores me but he does it anyway. He could be dead for all I know. Anyway, I’ll stop now you can give me my phone back.”

“Mmm no,” Harry pats the pocket he put it in. “You listen to me. It stays here.”

I don’t fight him. It was for my own good.

He sits with me for the rest of the flight. It should be uncomfortable but having another person’s presence beside me—knowing there was a shoulder pressing against mine, makes me feel a little less lonely today.

He probably didn’t intend that, I rethink the thought. Harry wasn’t thoughtful like that, he was probably just too lazy to move back.

We take the car home when we land but Harry tells me to take the rest of the Monday off even though it was already 2.

“And y/n,” Harry stops me before I exit the car where it stalls outside my complex.

“Yes?” I wait for the other shoe to drop—I had the day off but…

“If he knows it drives you crazy, and he truly loves you, he should respect you and give you a chance to talk. You deserve that.”

My breath catches at the unexpected words. I feel my defences go up.

“You’ll work it out,” he rushes on when I don’t respond.

I’m left feeling slightly reassured and mostly confused.

“Thank you,” I look at him a beat too long and it feels awkward so I scramble out and head up. To someone I hope was willing to listen like Harry said.

***

Like a baby calf out of the womb, my relationship stays on shaky grounds. It feels like building a foundation all over again after thinking that was already done with, but Hurricane Harry had caused a lot of damage.

Now 9 months into my new job I wasn’t always so on edge. But I was busy.

With no Riley, the team had decided to hold off on hiring anyone new and my work load had tripled. I’d brought it up casually and just as casually Harry had let me know I would be compensated.

I thought about Vienna a lot. Things were done and said there that should change our dynamic but didn’t. Not much. Harry was still an ass, he still demanded most of my time, and I still suffered from major anxiety about my life falling apart.

So maybe I was still on edge, just about different things.

“G’morning,” Gray whispers to me. I wanted to sleep in and cuddle with my fiancé but I’d already snoozed my alarm and I knew I had to get to work. I had errands to run all over town.

“Morning,” I burrow my head into his warm body. “I don’t wanna work.”

He kisses the top of my head. “How about I join you on some of those errands you mentioned? We can get coffee?”

I’m suddenly excited about going to work.

Gray laughs when I climb over him and kiss him like a lunatic, and we’ve been together too long to be embarrassed about morning breath or pillow face. I can’t believe I almost lost him.

The day is perfect as Gray and I move around town doing odd bits. We get to grab lunch together and I’m so glad what a good sport Gray had been about it all since I’d forced him to carry any heavy items.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” Gray drops me off at Harry’s. We linger in the lobby for a few minutes. “I’m cooking.”

“Mmm can’t wait,” I kiss him before taking the load from him. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

“I had fun, I hate to admit it.” He grins as I walk backwards to the elevator. He takes my breath away.

Grayson’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but I collide into a body behind me before he can warn me.

“Oh shit sorry I-“ I turn and Harry stands behind me with Jeff walking off the elevator. He was probably headed to the studio and I was late. Dammnit!

“Y/N,” Harry says.

“I’m so. Sorry,” I look between Gray, Jeff, and Harry. Do I introduce everyone? Do I apologize and rush to drop these things off so I could join them like I’m supposed to?

Jeff makes it easy, walking away on his phone. Then it’s Harry and Gray.

“I’m sorry I meant to be upstairs five minutes ago.” I tell Harry who’s expression is hard to read. “Uhm…this is Grayson my fiance I don’t think y’all have met he was just dropping me off since I had my hands full. Um. Gray this is…well you know who this is I-“

My blabbering is cut short as Harry steps forward to shake hands and I nearly die at the steely look Gray gives him. Also, why the fuck did I say y’all?! I wasn’t even southern.

“Grayson Duran yeah? Nice to meet you,” Harry says. I’m surprised he knows his full name. He must have asked his friends.

“Yeah,” Gray drops his hand. “The infamous Harry Styles—I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Harry says, glancing at me. Why would he say that. “As much as I’d love to chat, y/n you’re late and we’re heading to the studio. Can you give all that to the concierge?”

“Yes,” I nod. “Have you got-“

“I grabbed my things yes. I’ll see you in the car.”

Harry nods to Gray and leaves an air of cologne and annoyance behind. Gray and I lock eyes and I burn with embarrassment.

“What a dick,” Gray mumbles.

I’m offended, wait, why am I offended? It’s not like Harry wasn’t a dick.

“Yeah, I gotta go sorry babe.” I rush to the concierge and explain the delivery.

“Y’all?” Gray asks when I rush back to him.

“I know I know,” I cringe. “It just came out. I gotta go but thank you so much for today. Loveyoubye!”

I give him a quick peck and rush out, nearly collapsing into Harry’s car.

“Sorry about that, being late. That won’t happen again I meant to be there before you left-“

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Harry says stiffly, staring out the window. He was a dick, Gray was right. But why was I so offended at him saying that right after meeting him?

Things felt so confusing these days and I just wanted time to catch my breath and figure things out. A few more weeks and I’d get some time off for the holidays at least, I was looking forward to that.

***

Even though I planned the intimate holiday party and spent countless hours on the phone making sure every detail would be perfect I can’t help but criticize it as I join.

“Maybe I should have gone with a live band,” I mutter as someone takes mine and Grayson’s coats. Tonight I was supposed to shut my brain off as Harry said, and enjoy the party as a guest. But that part was hard to shut off after nearly 10 months of re-wiring it.

Grayson was tough to convince but finally he’d agreed to come to the party. Things were mostly back to normal with us. I tried to be home by 7 most nights and didn’t talk about work too much.

But sometimes it felt like a volcano lived inside me with how much I had to compartmentalize and keep in and when times got really tough, I wanted to spew everywhere.

“Josie told me your mom’s doing bohemian Christmas?” I ask Gray as we hover by the foyer. I’d just had a catchup with her yesterday now that she was finished exams. “Do you know what that means.”

“Mum’s crazy,” Gray sighs. His relationship with her was always followed by a sigh, an eye roll, a heavy resignation for who she was. I never quite understood it.

Josie, on the other hand, loved their loud and free-spirited mother. As for me, I thought she was the most interesting woman I ever met and we’d gotten along instantly.

“She’s always got some new idea up her sleeve,” I try to make things more positive. “What do you want a bet it’s going to be vegan?”

“I don’t bet when I know that’s what she’s serving. That’s why we do dad’s for lunch and hers for dinner. We’re too stuffed once we get there to care what she’s serving.”

“Remember when I tried to get you to go vegan and-“

“Y/N! Hi,” I’m interrupted by a friendly face in the crowd and end up chatting with people I’d worked with the last few months. We introduce our partners and they chat but I keep an eye on Grayson, in case anything changes.

I watch Harry’s friends trickle in and Gray lights up when he sees Liam and a few other people he trained.

I flit around the room with ease after that, knowing Gray had friends to keep him company. I make sure drinks are filled and catering is setting up. Until a hand stops me.

“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” Harry reminds me.

“Yes. Right. Well…”

“Y/N,” he warns.

“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Not working, here look I’m enjoying myself!”

I pick up a random drink and take a big sip. Champagne. Suddenly I remember the last time I drank champagne in front of Harry and I nearly cough it back up.

“Ugh,” Harry hands me a napkin and I try not to bristle. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yeah sorry just…just not a fan of champagne.”

We lock eyes and I’m gripped with the sudden and very real possibility that Harry may actually remember parts of that night.

When his eyes flicker down to my neck, it’s confirmed. Oh god.

“Well! I’m off to find a better drink!” I turn too quickly, nearly taking out the caterer who was setting up hors d’œuvres on the table. “Sorry!”

Oh my god. Harry remembered.

Did he remember this whole time? Was he pretending to forget that night? Did he ever remember the moment randomly in my presence like I did?

I had to stop freaking out. It had been months!

Where was Grayson.

I locate my fiancé in a random group but his eyes are already on me. I raise a hand and he smiles, raising a finger to tell me he’d be there in a moment.

My mind races in the meantime, wondering if I should mention the incident to Harry and tell him I was fine. Or maybe that proved the opposite. No. I should just keep it unspoken like we had this whole time. Oh my god!

“Quite a turnout,” Grayson comes back to me. Two drinks in his hand. “I saw you talking to Harry why did you look so scared? Did he say something?”

“Oh!” Of course Gray saw. “No. I just…almost choked on my champagne the fizz y’know? And then I didn’t want to make a scene so I left.”

“Hm,” Gray wraps his hand around my waist. “Hey I see a mistletoe I’m going to nudge you in that direction.”

“You don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me babe.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

I let him lead me to it and he kisses me with a knee-bending passion.

“Woah,” I feel dazed when we finally part. “That was fucking romantic.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Excuse me!” Harry’s voice rings over the crowd and the room hushes slowly. “Uh hiya! Thank you all for coming tonight and making me feel like I have friends during the holidays.”

A quiet laugh rumbles over the crowd. Harry looks magnetic on his makeshift podium, he’s in a cozy red sweater that I know cost more than my month’s salary and a collar peeks out from under it. He’s got on navy slacks and tinsel thrown over his shoulder. I’d bought that sweater, I remember. But he managed to pull the rest of the outfit together well.

“…a few people.” He continues. I’d zoned out. “My manager Jeff of course—this year has been a roller coaster and you’ve managed it all. Charlie, Claire, Niji, Elin, Sarah, and Mitch. We had a ball playing our hidden shows this fall but we have so much planned for the year ahead. I’m beyond grateful that you all came into my life and we get to make music together!”

A few whoops in the crowd and the people he mention raise their hands and shout out their own praises to Harry.

Harry thanks a few more people and says some more kind words. I don’t expect him to zero in on me.

“Last, but not least folks, I want to thank somebody who joined my team this year. She’s seen a lot—she’s been in the trenches my friends, she has. But she’s stuck with me. She’s planned everything tonight so really you’re all here because of her. Y/N, please make yourself known and everyone should give her a thank you if you talk to her tonight for tonight.”

Oh god. I am as bright as Harry’s sweater and with every single eye turning on me I’m sure I also turn every shade of the rainbow. I paste on a grin that feels like I’m the Joker and hope it looks normal.

I wave awkwardly and make eyes with Harry across the room who looks like he’s having a ball putting me in the centre of everyone’s attention. I was really going to wring his neck but he winks at me and finally turns the attention back to him with a few closing words, then starting the music and food.

“Am I alive?” I ask Gray beside me whose hand had dropped from my waist during the last few minutes. “I think I died of embarrassment and turned into the ghost of Christmas’ present.”

I turn to Gray and he looks around me. “Hello? Is someone talking to me?”

“Gray!” I push his shoulder and he laughs. “I hated every second of that.”

“I know,” Gray laughs again. “You hate attention.”

“I do! I swear Harry was up there gloating didn’t you notice? Ugh I hate him.”

Gray’s expression shutters for a second. “Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.”

“Y/N, quite a shoutout.” A voice says from my right. It’s Liam who I hadn’t seen myself in ages. I go in for a hug and hope my embarrassment clears away as we catch up.

As the night goes on I ease up a little, enjoy the mingling and the drinks. Especially the drinks. The evening’s embarrassment and everyone coming up to me knowing my name was hell so I drink to keep up the liquid courage.

Coming out of the toilets for the tenth time that night with all the drinks I was downing, I notice a light on in the room.

I go to it, in case it was a guest in a place they shouldn’t be.

I don’t spot him at first, flicking off the lights only to see a shadow move. Harry.

“Oh! It’s you. Is everything alright?” I lean in the doorway. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in this office actually. He always hovered outside it like I was now.

“Yeah yeah, just came for some air.” He walks up to me and I step out of the way so he can leave. But he stays just inside so I move back to my spot.

“Air? In the smallest room here?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like he’s been caught. “I was looking for you. We ran out of ice I just don’t remember where you stored the rest.”

“Well I’m not working remember? So I don’t know.”

“Touché. I guess the guests will just have a shite time with their lukewarm drinks.”

Ugh. He knew me too well.

“Fine. I’ll get the bag. By the way, that wasn’t funny. What you did earlier.” I put my hands on my hips, ready to give him a piece of my mind for embarrassing me.

“What!? It wasn’t meant to be funny. I’m expressing my gratitude y/n.”

“In front of a whole room of random people who are all looking at me? You know I would have hated it!”

“Let’s just say I’m trying to get you out of your shell,” Harry teases. He smells of his usual cologne, the fresh soap he used, and scotch. I spot the empty glass on my desk.

“I’m plenty out of my shell thank you. You know, you could have just said it to me privately. That would have meant more.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He inhales sharply and turns around.

“What?” I ask his back.

“Nothing.” He turns back around. “You do good work y/n, people should know.”

Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I only seemed to do this when Harry was nice. Because otherwise I knew how mean he could be. Why couldn’t there just be a balance.

“Why are you so randomly nice to me?”

Oops. All those drinks made for some loose lips.

“What?” He’s taken aback.

“Yeah,” I feel fired up now that it’s out. “You ignore me half the time—not that I expect to be bffs but at least a hello now and then would be nice. Then when you do talk it’s grunts and clipped answers. You’re pretty mean to me! And suddenly out of nowhere it’s like-like this 180 and you’re really nice. And praising me in front of a crowd. What’s up with that?”

His expression retreats the more I talk and I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. Forget the whole speech just now I’m pretty sure I’ve just written my own termination notice.

“I have to be,” he says simply after an awkward pause.

“Have to?” I demand. “You have to be mean to me?”

The long deleted Dos and Dont list when I first joined flashes through my mind. Did that have something to do with it?

“Because when I spoke to Riley that one time for drinks, he told me you weren’t always this mean. So is it me? You just said to a whole crowd how helpful I am so I just don’t get why you’re so mean sometimes!”

“What else did Riley say?” Harry hangs on to that.

“I…a lot I dunno! Riley faffs a lot. He’s also a creep but that’s neither here nor there I-“

“What do you mean he’s a creep?” The room feels even smaller as he zeroes in.

“I-“ I try to stutter something to change the subject but he stays on, asking me again. “It’s nothing. He was drunk and he made a pass at me-“

“He did?! Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s zero space between the two of us now.

“Why would I? It was something that happened outside work hours, plus you warned me and I didn’t listen-“

“Y/n you should have told me,” he swears. “I let that little shite get away with way too much.”

“Yeah well he’s not the only person working here who’s made a drunken pass at me so let’s not make it a big deal okay?”

I guess I wasn’t holding back.

Harry closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. One mississippi two mississippi three-

“You’re right.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I want to get out of this room, find Gray, and stay in the light. Because this small, dimly lit space was becoming too intimate. And yet, I can’t seem to will myself to move.

“I am?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it—what I did was incredibly wrong. Being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse and I promise I don’t go around doing that to everyone-“

“I know,” I say before thinking. It was weird of Harry to do but I never felt unsafe with him. I understood what he was trying to say.

“You can make it a big deal if you want. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

I feel weird having the roles reversed—Harry apologizing to me. Promising not to do something again. I recognize what he’s doing is right but I don’t know what to do with myself. My breathing’s shallow with Harry so close to me, practically hovering over me. I should’ve worn higher heels to really equal the field.

“Thanks,” I finally manage. It’s low and raspy and I barely get in enough air to speak it. He doesn’t respond.

We stay in the tableau, our breathing irregular, in between a single decision that both of us knew wouldn’t end well. Yet neither of us are strong enough to end the frozen display.

“You clean up nice,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as he compliments my getup. I’d worn a simple cowl-necked slip dress and strappy shoes with my hair in an up-do. I was definitely underdressed after seeing the other guests but I believe Harry means it.

“Don’t look as haggard as I usually do, you mean?” I find my voice again. I barely have to whisper for him to hear.

“You never look haggard,” Harry says as he brings his hand up and traces the curve of my dress strap. My heartbeat was loud and surely showing through my dress.

“You should go,” Harry adds in a whisper.

My head feels like it’s filled with carbonation as I nod in agreement. This was bad. With a capital B. I had to go.

“I…should go.” I repeat. Slowly I inch sideways on the wall and Harry leans away. We stare at each other for another long moment before I scurry away, my heart in my throat and my guilt where my heart should be.

“Don’t forget the ice,” I hear Harry call out from the room. Miraculously this is exactly when Grayson turns the corner.

“Y/n? Where were you?”

“Oh I-“ I imagined I looked fucked up. Because I felt high and out of my mind. The white lie comes out, attached to a thread that unstitches something within. “I drank too much, so I was in the toilet.”

“Oh,” Gray looks relieved and I’m sinking with guilt. Technically I did nothing wrong. I didn’t even have feelings for Harry. But whatever physical magnetism he seemed to have nearly made me do something I’d seriously regret. “Did I hear someone say something about ice?”

“Yeah!” I laugh and it comes out like I had never learned how. “I just bumped into Harry, we ran out of ice. So much for not working huh?”

“At least everyone knows how hard you work,” he jokes.

I stick to Gray’s side for the rest of the night, not touching a single drop of alcohol. I had to forget everything in that room ever happened if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity. I had to be a better person, the devil was handsome and I had to stop playing into his tricks.

I call it quits a few hours later when I notice Gray low on energy.

“I’ll get our coats,” I tell him. The relief on his face is palpable.

I go through where the spare closet was but hear voices in Harry’s darkened room. The door’s open so I go to investigate. I regret it instantly.

Harry’s inside with a woman, I don’t see much of her as she’s on the bed but I know it’s Harry with the tone of his voice as they exchange words.

My stomach drops and it’s like an accident on the side of the road, I’m mortified but I can’t look away.

I watch him kiss her and I feel like I’m sinking through the floorboards.

“Oh!” The woman notices me when she turns her head and pulls the sheet up. She whispers, “you didn’t close the-“

“Oh it’s fine,” Harry laughs. He sits back on his legs and looks at me, his expression void of anything he was tonight. Like the moment in the room didn’t even happen. “It’s just y/n.”

Of course it didn’t matter to him, I scold myself. I was the one with fucked up issues that couldn’t make up my stupid mind about how I wanted to feel about this man who literally paid me to be around. Who treated me like shit most of the time. Who was nice to me sometimes and I misconstrued it to mean a whole lot more.

What was I thinking? Did I think suddenly this man who’s known to be a player had a single one-sided intense moment with me and that would change him?

I was an absolute idiot.

“Could you get the door?” Harry asks so casually, so nonchalantly, that it punches me in the chest. It was closer to some combination of humiliation and self-inflicted hurt but for now it feels like my chest aches.

“O-of course.” I shut the door and stand there, taking in deep breaths as I try not to think about everything that just happened. Tried not to think of all the million ways I was the worst girlfriend in the world. Tried not to think about the fact that I had to quit sooner than later because things were getting tangled up and it was not okay.

xxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld

I’m trying to make part 3 the last—it includes your final decisions and returning to the present to find out what happens (from the beginning of the story). Thank you, as always, for reading <3 xx

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #slow burn

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kurishiri · 14 days ago

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02┊Dark If —Alfons Sylvatica—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: implied dub-con, implied alcohol consumption, invasion of personal space.

(I-I-I...I...)

Alfons the Mirror: You’re rather quick to wake up, aren’t you. Well? Were you able to have a good dream last night?

(Why did I do such a thing... it was like Alfons was my lover...)

(Wait, like one...?)

Kate: Y-you did something to me, didn’t you?

Alfons the Mirror: Why indeed I did. We did a greaaat many things under consent.

A: That said, though, you ended up falling asleep, so we didn’t go all the way.

Kate: That’s not the point...!

Alfons the Mirror: Were you aware of my ability then? Because, yes, I did use it.

A: I am a mirror that reflects wishes and desires. I simply did what you wished for.

Kate: Wh—why would I ever wish for something so dirty...

Alfons the Mirror: Well I’ll be... is that really so?

Though I was intoxicated, I could still remember how I ended up wanting to lean into Alfons’ warmth.

Kate: Y-you’re the utter worst!

Alfons the Mirror: Aha, I do take a fancy to that reaction of yours. I prefer this loads over how you resembled a lost child last night.

Kate: Well, I won’t be seeking any more help from you.

Alfons the Mirror: Well then, how about I make a prediction? You will come to see me... I’m more than sure.

I straightened out my disheveled clothes and stood up as Alfons said while sprawled on the bed...

Alfons the Mirror: Ah, and...

(...?)

Alfons the Mirror: The first cocktail you drank last night is applejack. Despite all appearances, it’s quite some strong liquor.

A: A poisoned apple may not necessarily take the form of an apple itself. Do be careful from now on.

Perhaps out of frustration, or something else entirely, my cheeks grew hot.

Kate: Thanks for the warning! And you take care of that liver of yours too, mister Alfons the Mirror!

Alfons the Mirror: ......... (O_O)

A: ...pfft, ahahaha!

Leaving that shameless parting remark, I burst out of that shady room.

(That guy’s the worst of the worst, I swear to god——!!)

Pub master: Look at you, lady-killer. Did you have a fun time yet again? I’m almost envious.

Alfons the Mirror: Too much fun, in fact. Though she ran away like a cat would in the end.

??? (Harry): ...Hey, don’t go teasing her too much.

Alfons the Mirror: ...?

Sitting in the corner of the pub was a man, and that was all he said before disappearing into the darkness.

Pub master: So, are you gonna have a drink to wake yourself up, Alfons?

Alfons the Mirror: Yes, perhaps I will, with an applejack.

The day after I was played by the mirror, I went around on my own to find the missing thing.

But it seemed the favorite phrase of the people I asked boiled down to ‘maybe you’ll know if you ask Alfons?’

So in the end, I couldn’t get my hands on any information, leaving me to go back to that person, much to my displeasure.

Said person was at the castle, playing on a whim with a black cat.

Alfons the Mirror: Elbie was going to add this cat to his collection, you see... but it’s a relief indeed that you won’t be subject to a taxidermy, isn’t it?

Black cat: Meow...

Alfons the Mirror: And so, what brings you here?

Kate: .........ease.

Alfons the Mirror: I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that. Speak up a little more, why don’t you.

Kate: ...Help me...please...

Alfons the Mirror: With what, might I ask?

(I-I swear, this man——!)

Kate: I need your insights, so please help me...!

Alfons the Mirror: Very well. I must say you looked quite darling just now.

While I threw him a resentful look, Alfons brought his fingers to his chin in a dramatic gesture.

Alfons the Mirror: For the record, everything I am about to say is mere speculation on my end.

A: But you are Snow White, Elbie is the Queen, Roger the Hunter, and I the Mirror.

A: Don’t you think there is a missing cast member here in the story of Snow White?

(Ah...)

Kate: The prince?

Alfons the Mirror: Indeed, if you find that prince who is somewhere in this world, you may be able to return from whence you came!

Kate: Thank you so much, Alfons! I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel!

Alfons the Mirror: Hardly. Then, I say we head off to search for this prince and whatnot posthaste.

Kate: Wait, you’re going to help?

Alfons the Mirror: Did I not say? I happen to very much enjoy sticking my nose into other people’s business without the need to take an ounce of responsibility.

And so, with Alfons, we started our search for the prince.

Alfons the Mirror: To all the candidates to be Snow White’s prince, over here! Yes, that’s it, line up in a single file.

A: Now, entry number 1. You can come up.

Candidate No.1: I-I would like to take Snow White’s hand in marriage, so I can get close to Queen Elbert——

Queen Elbert: ...Dismissed.

Alfons the Mirror: Thank you for your time. Ah, and over there are some souvenirs, so do take some with you.

Kate: Thank you for helping out so much.

K: ...But, what in the world is this!?

Alfons the Mirror: Thinking it was the most efficient way, I invited candidates from within the country. I am quite good at my job, aren’t I.

Kate: I won’t deny that, but you could’ve confided in me before it happened...

K: Besides, why is Queen Elbert helping as well?

Queen Elbert: ...? Because, I was worried about you?

Alfons the Mirror: Alright then, entry number 2. You may come up.

Candidate No.2: I want to marry Snow White, and every night... hehehe...

Queen Elbert: ...Take him out of the castle grounds.

Alfons the Mirror: Yes yes, right away. Guards, if you please, throw him right out of the castle.

—— Time skip ——

(...That must’ve been close to 300 people, but we couldn’t find even one remotely like a prince.)

The fatigue piling up on me, I started to feel more down.

(At this rate, I won’t be able to find the missing thing, and I probably won’t be able to return back to reality.)

Alfons the Mirror: Kate? Kate.

Kate: Yes... ngh, mn...

Alfons kissed me with a wet sound before he finally parted from my lips.

Kate: W-why a kiss so suddenly?

Alfons the Mirror: I was starting to grow tired of all these worthless men, so call this a cleansing of palate, if you will.

A: Oh, or are you perhaps in need of a more intensely pleasurable ‘cleansing’?

Kate: Ah… no, we can’t…

I remembered the heat from when he fondled me before, and for a moment I recalled the pleasure from that.

(But that… all of that…)

Alfons the Mirror: You can put all the blame on me. I simply had unfulfilled desires, and so I laid my hands upon you.

Kate: In between an audience… that’s bad manners.

Alfons the Mirror: Oh dear, did you truly take me for someone who tries to uphold manners, by any chance?

A: And besides that, with that sort of phrasing, are you meaning to say doing things like this is alright if it’s in a different place?

Kate: Wh—ah…

Alfons the Mirror: We can leave the prince hunt for tomorrow and enjoy ourselves today. How about it?

(That it would make me happy if that smile of his was not apathetic, but rather one that came from his heart…)

(…It’s not like I’m thinking that or anything.)

And then, a few days later, in order to invite real princes, a banquet was held at the castle.

(Urgh, if it’s real princes, that would mean they’re nobility, right? Of course I’d be nervous…)

Alfons the Mirror: Are you finished with preparations? Well, I’ll be, don’t you look wonderful.

A: That is one shameless slit, to be sure. You’ll have the princes on their knees in no time flat, I say.

Kate: H-hold on, don’t touch me.

Alfons the Mirror: Goodness, what’s there to be so stingy about?

At this point, such interactions with Alfons like this had long become a part of my every day.

I had initially felt so anxious, but now such feelings have dissipated more…

Kate: …You know, recently I’ve had times when I’ve thought about what I’m really searching for.

Alfons the Mirror: And that is to say?

Kate: I had thought finding that missing thing and correcting what made this world twisted would be the right thing to do.

K: But it’s just… I can’t help but wonder if that’s really the case.

The people living in this country had gone twisted and mad somewhere along the way.

After all, Queen Elbert was still searching for the most beautiful thing in this world,

and Alfons… he would sometimes have this severely lonely or icy look in his eyes.

But… there wasn’t any person here that was living an entirely proper life.

And I couldn’t help but feel more or less everyone was living at least a little mad.

While thinking that, I felt the sensation of fingertips tickling my back.

Kate: Eek!

Alfons the Mirror: So you no longer wish to return to reality, instead wanting to stay with me?

Kate: No way!

Alfons the Mirror: Hehe, that’s unfortunate. Oh, and would you look at that. It’s almost time, Snow White.

In the dance hall, princes from many different countries were gathered.

Green-eyed prince: Snow White, this dish is delectable.

Kate: Ah, thank you. I’ll partake in some.

(If it was Alfons, I imagine he wouldn’t eat this sort of luxurious dish.)

——How rude. I’ll have you know purposefully eating crudely is what makes a noble.

Blue-eyed prince: Snow White, uhm, could we talk over there later?

Kate: Yes, of course.

(If it were Alfons, he would probably drag me off somewhere without asking first.)

——After all, you don’t dislike this kind of force, do you?

(…W-wait, what…?)

(For a while now, why was I…)

Why was I trying to find Alfons in other people?

Kate: ——!

(I… to Alfons——)

to be continued…

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#in love with all the rt connections 🥹🫶#ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil alfons #ikevil alfons sylvatica #alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains alfons #cybird ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #otome game #otome #ikevil translation #ikevil translations #d: cafekitsune

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izvmimi · 9 months ago

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there was a time where oliver aiku used to love discussing his love life in interviews. for some people all press is good press, and the reputation of being a ladies' man, called anything from a casanova to playboy to straight up rake, rarely upset him. in fact he reveled in it, delight in his mismatched eyes whenever reporters would tease out the details of his most recent rendezvous. models, actresses, the occasional influencer who gave him what she marketed on only fans for free...

he loved to discuss all of it. after all, what egotistical man shies away from discussing his conquests?

but this time, once the subject comes up of who he's been last seen in the media with, all he can think of is you, and your smile, and the loving way you've wrapped your arms around the second-highest grossing actor this year. once lauding his success and status over you, you're far out of his reach, cavorting with stars that out-league him.

he should have seen this coming. he always knew that you were beautiful, after all. even when you cried as he dumped you for easily accessible pussy, expecting that your crush on him since childhood would last for the rest of your life.

oliver breaks hearts, he doesn't get his heart broken.

"so, it seems like you continue to live up to your reputation, with no less than six prominent characters you've been entangled with recently. can you tell us what the rumors are?"

oliver smiles, palm scratching at the scruff on his chin. he remembers that you'd once told him he needed a cleaner image and that possibly started with considering at least shaving for interviews. he hasn't done that today - in fact, he hasn't done anything for you, has he?

"no comment," he jokes. "i don't kiss and tell."

the reporter, a man this time, grins in the way that men who size each other up by how wide they manspread or how big their dick is or how much money is in their pocket does. but oliver's grip on the armrests of his chair tightens. he's begging internally for the topic to change, any way to avoid digging himself into a bigger pit than he already is.

the last time he saw you in person, you were breathtaking. was it revenge that made you truly blossom or is the regret of the fact that he can no longer have you transformative?

"fuck off," you'd said, promptly, the moment you saw him standing at your door in the middle of the night. there was a time, when you were high-schoolers that you only spoke to him softly; there was a time, in your early 20s, where he could simply smile sheepishly at you, pushing shaggy hair back and you'd believe anything he said.

"aren't you happy i came to you first this time?" he'd been quick to answer. the joke doesn't land, and for the first time in forever, you don't even crack a smile.

he remembers telling you he had options, and realizing that in truth, you were always the one who could aim higher.

"you can do better," you remind him of his own words. your face is still made up, you're back from a photoshoot. your career soars and his stays stagnant. he's trying his best, he's not lacking in skill, but for now your star shines far brighter.

he didn't tell you then, couldn't bring his mouth to utter the words, but it's not true.

he cannot do better than you.

oliver grins, and pushes the thought of you out of his mind.

oliver, the man who cannot fall in love, gives the public what they want.

#oliver aiku x reader #oliver x reader #bllk x reader #mimi's notes #cw breakup #cw toxic #daydreams: blue lock

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amostnobleyandere · 2 years ago

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Yandere! Noble! Scaramouche x GN! Reader (Arranged Marriage)

A/N: hey look first post!!!! this blog is basically just a place to dump my thoughts on yanderes and situations w them// if you’re not comfortable w that, please leave!!! this is not the place for you

GN reader but!!! the word “bride” is used once so do w that what you will .

remember, this is a mature blog !!! don’t like don’t read!!!!!!!!

warning(s): male! yandere, toxic relationships, slightly narcissistic yandere, verbal abuse, child neglect, arranged marriage, toxic behavior, bad parenting skills, loneliness, obsession, yandere scaramouche, scaramouche is his own warningetc. etc.

Synopsis: there’s this specific scenario ive been thinking of lately : an enemies to lovers, but with a yandere that is particularly bitter and hasn’t really experienced an unconditional love before but then his initial hatred of you turns into an obsession. I thought scara was perfect for it :)

—————————

neither of you had wanted to get married; you, the child of the last bloodline of a falling noble family, and scaramouche, heir to one of the wealthiest and most prestigious names in the empire, would have never been pushed to marry under normal circumstances. it could only be assumed that fate had revealed its hand and placed its destiny upon you.

you had never even met the young man that society had branded as ruthlessly curt with a lash-like tongue. you had never expected to, considering how far apart you were, in different circles and in different worlds

he was the duchess’ nephew and only heir, and was untouchable in both stature and power. in contrast, your family name was declining rapidly. you knew why your mother and father had accepted the marriage proposal the day it came, and you knew why they decided not to tell you until the letter in reply had already been sent. you had no say in the matter

how your parents arranged a marriage between the two of you? well, you could certainly guess; noble ladies gossiped and gasped about the young man who was rich with a handsome face, but with an incredibly arrogant personality and a razor tongue that both reflected his wit and endless scorn. you thought that the rumors must have been over exaggerated, as they always were, but for the duchess to have to reach out to your family to find a spouse for her son? had all the other contestants being rejected, and now they were picking through the scraps that were left? or perhaps, had they rejected him?

now, you weren’t so sure

even then, some part of you had never thought they would agree to something like this; they had concluded that this was what was best for you, had even told you that you will live a much happier life if you were in a household that wasn’t always on the edge of crumbling and giving way to time; you could see that they did have the best of intentions. and still, you felt betrayed

unbeknownst to you, at the time, your fiancé had felt the same way toward his mother; the expression of his feelings on the matter, however, included a lot more yelling and rage in his questions as to why he was being dragged into this. he was used to being disappointed, but being so blatantly used?

unfortunately, scaramouche’s defiance was only met with a cold silence and a blank stare, and after he had vehemently denied to go along with the marriage, his mother had only said that nothing could be done. he had no choice in the matter.

and the gentle glint in her eyes, that had still remained their after all these years, that stayed as she firmly reprimanded him, only served to make him more furious.

and so, his resentment for you, the other victim in this situation, came naturally.

when he met you for the first time, his regularly crass and sarcastic attitude only got worse. you could see the embarrassment dawn on both your parents’ and his mother’s faces, cringing every time his voice got a little too loud or when he said something particularly blunt. he made snide comments on your upbringing, your title, even your clothing wasn’t spared the ruthless bite of his words. between his curt and cold attitude and your futile attempts at making conversation, you two didn’t exactly hit it off when you first met

and then, when you finally got sick of it and told him what exactly you thought of his words and his money and where he could shove them, his resentment turned into something much more personal: spite.

he reasoned that he had every right to hate you. to be overly rude and childish whenever you so much as got the idea to be five feet near him. he never asked for the marriage. he doesn’t care about how much it would benefit the two of you, and he’s long past trying to finally please his mother into loving him, so why should he have to act like the perfect husband for someone who is below him?

your parents seemed to love you plenty though. if their guilty eyes and shifty glances were anything to go by. even if they were shamelessly grabbing at the wealth and prestige of another family, he could tell that this marriage was meant for you and your future. even if you didn’t want it. even if you seemed to dread it. every time they brought you over for a scheduled date in the lonely garden at the back of the duchess’s estate, there seemed to be a subtle pain in their eyes.

perhaps, a paternal regret at having to make their child miserable so that they could eventually have the things they weren’t able to give them.

…well, it gave him more reason to torment you.

————————

there seemed to be no way out of the awkward meetings. your parents were hell bent on having scaramouche as your husband, and his mother was just as determined. so, when you did have to suffer through seeing each other, you kept trading thinly veiled insults, practically sulking every time you heard the others name, and bickering with the each other at every opportunity. it became a familiar routine for the two of you, to not get along and verbalize your frustrations through jabs and taunts

strangely enough, scaramouche grew fond of the bickering. you were practically the only person who would speak to him so casually. with so little respect and without fear of him blowing up. he thought it was refreshing. no one hardly ever talked to him anymore, and even a child that had everything and more could not curb his own loneliness by himself…he would never tell you that, though.

he thought that at least it was entertaining to tease you. actually, if you weren’t so annoying, he might have actually gone as far to say it’s pleasant having you in his company. It certainly beats the large, lonely house he had to wander every day.

plus, when was the last time he had talked this much? when someone had looked at him and acknowledged his existence without him having to work for it?

—————————

as the engagement progressed, you two ended up spending hours together every week, whether you wanted to or not, and while you were mentally and emotionally exhausted from the stress your parents were putting you through, he’s looking forward to your meetings like they’re the highlight of his week…it’s ridiculous, he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks, and oh god now he can’t get you out of his head.

then suddenly, you’re calling it off. the whole engagement. miraculously, you guilted your parents into going back on what they had agreed to.

his mother is appalled and frustrated, a bit exasperated now that she has to find another suitable bride for her son.

scaramouche is beyond furious.

he goes quiet with rage. he’s more snappish now, towards the maids, towards everyone. his attitude is no longer his usual arrogance and crudeness. his usual bitterness rose into an explosive temper and ruthless training just to keep himself confined to a state of sanity. there is, once again, for the first time in many, many years, an unmistakable fear of abandonment that is raging in his head. he feels so wronged.

and it’s your fault.

and then, he goes silent. if they thought it was bad when he talked, see what they think when he’s quiet.

for his mother, it’s unnerving. to the servants, it’s downright terrifying.

no one realizes that he’s calculating. no one really expects it. everyone assumed this was one big temper tantrum after suffering a huge blow to his pride.

scaramouche was really only clutching his shattered heart after giving it to someone who threw it away.

—————————

what he wants at first is revenge.

that’s what he wants to think he wants. he wants to make things even between the two of you; make you suffer like you made him. force his way into your mind in the worst way possible, and keep himself there to get the message across.

for the first few agonizing days after the annulment, he thinks; maybe that he should tamper with your parents businesses and make you a pauper, someone who is reduced to having to take care of their parents after you fall from the graces of society. and then, after that, he’s hoping you’d come crawling back to him, and ask for his help and his hand. and he’d oh-so graciously accept you back into his life; not before making you beg for it, though.

then again, perhaps toying with whatever lover you have would be a good way to get back at you. he just assumes that you have one, because you must, for you to just abandon him like that.

you should have just stayed.

either way, he’s going to make you regret it.

—————————

it doesn’t take much for scaramouche to convince his mother to have a much needed talk with your parents.

and despite everything she’s done, ei does want to make her son happy. she wasn’t blind after all; he’s always seemed to be on edge, ever since the accident, but he had changed in the short amount of time he had know you. the boy she had failed to raise and care for, someone who was now so far out of her reach, seemed to be more calm and content when you were by his side. it had been a long time since she had seen her nephew look forward to something this much.

whether you want the engagement or not matters less to her.

—————————

and so, your resistance all comes apart so easily. Ei is one of the most powerful people in the empire, so it doesn’t take much effort before she’s luring your parents into throwing you back to them and into scaramouche’s waiting arms. It would be the least she could do as his mother

it’s only a matter of time before you’re resting in the palm of his hand once again; the engagement is back on, running smoothly towards your fast approaching wedding, like your little rebellious mishap never even happened

scaramouche is reveling in it. he feels as though he’s won. and in truth, he has. he imagines the look on your face, how you’ll have to greet him eventually, look him in the eyes after tossing him to the side and then losing, and thinks about how he’s going to make your reunion as painful as possible when you do meet again

his wishes are fulfilled when not even a month later are you pushed into the expansive garden by servants and abandoned by them even quicker, watching them scurry away with pale but oddly relieved faces. once again, you were meant to suffer through another lunch date after you thought you had finally escaped and left the gloomy estate behind forever.

the familiar stone pathway and expansive flora only served to bring back bad memories of your failed attempt to gain your freedom and reminded you of what you would have to look forward to for the rest of your life. it’s only the scuffle of boots against the ground that brought you back to reality.

you knew exactly who was standing behind you.

—————————

when scaramouche saw you standing there, muscles taught and shoulders tensed as you refused to look at him, he took his time observing you, savoring the moment and committing it to memory.

his slow and deliberate footsteps did little to calm your fraying nerves. You were both surrounded by tall hedges and the gentle sound of water coming from nearby fountains. no one else was around. You were completely isolated, with only your fiancé- no, your crazed future husband- keeping you company.

and as always, his presence was suffocating.

“you know, trying to run away from me was cute, but it got annoying after the joke was over. did you really think you could go against a duchy? don’t make me laugh.” his voice had a high and condescending lit to it that seemed to grate against your ears. your stony facade crumbled soon after, instantly revealing the confusion and panic that welled in your chest.

“…why did you do it?” your voice came out hoarse and low. you whirled around, finally looking into those violet eyes. scaramouche felt a shiver of excitement run up his spine as your watery gaze met his.

“you hated this engagement just as much as I did. why did you drag me back here? we both could’ve been free.” a bitter laugh escaped your throat that pathetically choked off into a sob.

he laughed lowly as his head titled down, shielding his eyes from you. the sight made you shudder involuntarily.

“‘drag you back?’ deary, you belong to me. you did the moment I decided I wanted you. what you want doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t know what’s good for yourself, clearly.”

when he lifted his head back up to meet your eyes, he was smiling. the soft turn of his lips wasn’t full of cruelty or malice, scorn or hatred, and somehow that made the uncharacteristically gentle look so, so much worse.

scaramouche picked up your limp hand, gently turning it over, and slipped a ring onto it. it was like putting a heavy shackle on a caged bird; it was needless and unnecessary, you were already trapped. the world did not need anything else but the duchess’s final word to let everyone know who you belonged to.

but, as you stood there staring blankly ahead, you noticed scaramouche seemed genuinely happy to see the band resting on your finger.

the smile he wore turned more playful, more mocking, as those piercing eyes looked at you as if you were pitiful and small, beneath him, something that needed guidance

and his purple eyes locked with yours as he slowly pulled you to him and brought you into a soft kiss.

—————————

“Give me your love. Give me your validation. Hand yourself over to me, body, mind, and soul.”

“And what if I don’t want to?”

“Darling, do you think you have a choice?”

#scaramouche #yandere x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere genshin #yandere #yandere genshin impact #romantic yandere #male yandere #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #yandere wanderer x reader #yander wanderer #genshin impact #genshin

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neverfindmegone · 9 months ago

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Hi people, so I'm not a writer and I never wrote anything but my darling @pinkthrone445 is always writing the most amazing things, so I wanted to write this in her honor. Sorry if it's extremely silly and not well written but is my first try 🖤

What I can see

You and Melissa had been friends for a couple of months now. You met the red head during your first day in Abbot. You were nervous as hell to work as a teacher's aid, but you have always loved children and working with them was a dream.

At first, Melissa wasn't very friendly, she was extremely sarcastic, making fun of you every chance she got.

You still remember your first meeting, Ava had come to introduce you to the red head and you couldn't form one proper sentence, being stunned by her beauty.

- What's the matter Hon, did the cat get your tongue?

After that you started to spend more and more time with the older woman, and the intimidation you felt started to turn into a deep admiration. Being her helper was such an interesting job, the learning range was big, from teaching kids with special needs to having the number of a guy who could help you with racoon problems.

Yes. Melissa was an interesting woman and you started to fall for her more and more each day.

At first you believed to be a innocent crush, but the more you had one on one conversations, you saw that you couldn't stop thinking about what hurricane of a woman she was. Her presence, her personality, her looks, you were completely obsessed. What resulted in you finding every excuse possible to be around her all the time. You would bring her coffee, invite for lunches, drinks, movies almost every week after work.

Melissa seemed to appreciate the extra attention you gave her, sometimes you could swear you caught her staring when she thought you weren't looking.

Her bright green eyes shined when you overshared and her hands always found away to touch you, shoulders, hands, thighs.

That's how you found yourself in the current situation. Ava was giving one of her Ava speeches, and you had Melissa sitting right next to you, her arm touching yours. You were caught giving her looks from the corner of your eye, every time your skins would brush.

- Does she sound drunk to you? She whispered in your ear.

The hairs on the back of your back stood up immediately and you were frozen for a second. Her breath ghosting your skin made you feel dizzy whenever she was this close to you. Damn this woman had put you wonder a spell or something. When did you start to be so easily affected?

Melissa noticing your lack of response, shoved your arm slowly. - You okay?

- Yes, I mean no, not drunk, maybe hung over? I saw on her Insta last night, she was at the club until late.

- Club on a Wednesday? That's brave even for her. She eye rolled, looking back at the stage.

- Come on Schemmenti. You looked at her. - Can't you handle going out on a school night?

Her head snapped immediately, green eyes finding yours, nostrils inflating. You liked teasing her, it was a part of the flirting banter you had going on.

You raised both of your eyebrows challenging her. - Too old?

- Are you kidding me kid? You, me, club tonight. She said snapping, challenging you back.

- Deal, I'll pick you up at 7.

---

Later that night, you knocked on Melissa's door at 7:15. A bit late, but nothing that would bother the older lady. When the door was opened, your jaw dropped. She was wearing a tight red dress, her creamy cleavage completely in display.

You couldn't stop staring at her breasts, your breathing getting elaborated. This was definitely the rack from God.

Melissa's voice broke up you from your paralysis. - What's the matter hon? Am I over dressed?

You frowned, seeing her insecurity.

- Are you kidding me? Mel, you look... You paused, your eyes raking over her body up and down slowly. - Exquisite.

- Really? I'm not sure about this. She said entering the house, with you following. - I had other options. She gestured for you to follow her into the bedroom.

- Maybe these black jeans? She pointed to the bed, where a bunch of clothes were scattered. - I haven't been to a club in a while, I don't know what I was thinking.

You looked around seeing the mess in the room, realizing that she was probably over thinking this. You wanted nothing more than reassure her, this woman was divine, how couldn't she know that?

- No, you look perfect, I promise.

Melissa made a face, showing that she didn't believe you, she walked to the large mirror in the corner of her room, before standing there, observing herself. Her hands moved over her dress, tiding it up. - Am I too old for this?

- Melissa, please. You giggled, how did this goddess believe she was too old for anything. That's when you remember your teasing earlier, you started to feel guilty. She wouldn't have been upset over that, would she?

- Is this about earlier? You asked approaching her. - Let me show you something. You continued, moving yourself behind her in the mirror slowly, afraid to scare her away. Your desire was to prove to the woman how gorgeous she really was.

- What do you really think? She said looking at you, finding your eyes in the mirror.

You moved your hands to her hips gently, holding her in place, while making eye contact with her.

- I think you will be the hottest woman there. You squeezed her hips gently, before giving them a tap. - Come on.

Melissa huffs, before looking at you with vulnerable eyes. - Oh please.

You move closer, keeping your eyes on hers, before resting your chin on her shoulder. - I don't think you are aware of the effect you have on people. Your arms hugged her from behind while you spoke.

The older woman eyerolled. - Huf, you have to say that, you're my friend.

- Melissa stop. You moved your hands to hers, before squeezing them. - Please see what everyone can see... What I can see.

She blushed deeply. - Listen kid, I...

You moved closer in a fast manner, making her stop talking. You pressed your front against her back completely, before starting - First, look at these arms. You moved your hands up and down her shoulders gently. - They are muscular and strong.

You felt her tense up, looking at you with uncertainty. You gave her a wide smile before you felt her relaxing again, she gave you a small nod, letting you know it was okay to continue.

You shifted your hands to her stomach, stroking it with your fingertips. - Look at this waste, so gorgeous and just the right shape. Her eyes shifted to your hands movements, and her breath started to increase it's path, as she felt you caressing her skin.

- And these hips? Your hand moved down her curves, touching her more intimately now, increasing the pressure of your hands.

- They are so attractive, when you walk, people at school can't stop staring at them. You know when I first met you I couldn't stop thinking about your hips and thighs.

She shaked her head no. - It's true. You breathed in her ear. - You carry such power and swag when you walk, it's impossible not to look.

Her eyes starting to shine, lips quivering as she felt your hands moving to her behind. - I don't think I need to tell you about this mouth watering ass of yours, do I?

Your eyes found hers, completely black now, your hand moving up and down her butt cheeks. Your touch was maddening, Melissa was starting to tremble and you heard a small whimper scape when your nails traced her shape, teasingly.

Your face moved closer to hers, your nose brushing against her cheek, your eyes never leaving hers. - But do you wanna know my favorite? You said slowly, letting the tip of your tongue brush against her earlobe.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Your hands roamed up her front and the red head felt like her skin was on fire, it was as if hot oil was being poured in every spot your fingers touched. Your hand stopped on her chest and you stretched your fingers to her neck, squeezing it gently.

- Y/N. She whimpered, her voice full of emotion.

Your fingers grasped her chin before turning her face to yours. - It's your face Melissa, I'm obsessed with your face. Your eyes kept drinking in hers while you spoke - Your eyes they are so green and deep. - Your smile lights up the whole room, it's contagious.

You leaned closer, letting your fingertips touch the tip of her nose - Your nose is sharp and perfect. You traced a path to her lips, observing her face deeply, like you were a painter and she was your master piece. Your fingers moved to her lips softly, the pressure light but steady.

- And your mouth, God your mouth.

Melissa held her breath, her eyes started to close, she was hypnotized by your caresses. Her eyes snapped open when she felt you pulling away. But before she could protest in disappointment you moved your hands to her breasts squeezing them roughly. You couldn't keep yourself away from them for one more second. - And these are the star of the show. You felt her nipples get hard while you played with them.

Her head fell to your shoulder before she groaned. - Fucking chirst Y/N.

You lost any self control you had left and turned her around, pressing her back against the mirror, trapping her with your hands beside her head . - Do you see it now? You asked, your eyes full of lust.

Her lack of response gave you the impression that she was uncomfortable, so you started to move away shyly. - Fuck, sorry Mel, I know we work together. Before you could finish your sentence Melissa grabbed your face and crashed her lips against yours. She was furious and putting all of her desire and longing into that kiss.

You had no idea how long she had craved this, how long she had craved you. And having your hands and whispers seducing her like that was enough to take the red head to a breaking point.

All she could see was black, her hands moved over your body frantically, squeezing every piece of flesh she could find.

You moaned feeling how dominant she had became, letting her take charge of the kiss. Your hands moved to her shoulders, clutching with force, returning all the fire the woman was giving you. You opened your mouth, accepting her tongue in. Your mind was dizzy with desire, and you couldn't stop yourself from moaning again.

- Holy fuck. You panted. You kissed for minutes, or what seemed to be hours. You couldn't get enough of her taste and she seemed to be obsessed with yours. Every time you would stop to breathe the other would pull in again with force, continuing the intense kiss. Your hands tangled in her gorgeous hair and hers groping you forcefully.

When you felt yourself close to fainting from the lack of air, you moved away from her, catching your breath so you could take a sight of what had just happened.

You moved your hand over your chest, trying to recover.

- Wow Schemmenti, I always assumed you were a good kisser but this, this is something else.

When you caught her eyes, she was still silent, chest and face red, she looked dangerous, almost a predator looking at her pray. - Mel?

She moved closer to you before shoving you in the bed savagely. You fell on your elbows harshly. - Ouch! Melissa! You said looking her with surprise.

- You had your fun seducing and playing me like pudding in your hands. Now it's my turn. She said while moving on top of you.

Her hands moved to your neck before squeezing it. - And you know something Y/N? She said while leaning in, letting her mouth hover over yours. - I don't think I want to go to the club anymore.

#Melissa schemmenti x you #Melissa schemmenti x reader #abbot elementary #Melissa schemmenti #Fanfic

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01zfan · 11 months ago

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whose altar do you bow to? | s.es

politician!eunseok x fem. reader | 6.2k words

all may worship at your altar but whose do you bow to?

contains: religious themes, oral (fem. receiving), abandonment issues, problems regarding church culture, body worship, sub!eunseok

sacrilegious masterlist

eunseok left the church six years ago. you remember when everyone in your congregation hated him for it. he left the city to find opportunities and to do something more with his life. you had heard rumors of a prestige college, but many thought it was untrue due to his lax nature. unfortunately leaving the small town was unofficially known as the gateway to losing your faith. because of this, many considered him a nonbeliever.

truthfully, no one knew what eunseok did for those six years. nobody bothered to ask his family if he still practiced religion, because that would’ve been the logical thing to do. he never was a big part of the church socially, so when he left he was like a ghost. when eunseok disappeared without a trace, everyone saw this as an opening to spread rumors. you knew eunseok personally, the two of the oldest kids in the congregation. you two would be together in line for serving food, overhearing two women talk about another one.

“do they ever get tired of talking behind eachothers backs?” you ladle food onto a child’s plate.

“when thats the only thing to do, you can never get tired of it.” eunseok wasn’t even looking at the two women. he smiled at the next person in line, giving them a cup of fruit.

“still though. sometimes the congregation is so contradictory with their teachings versus practices.” you say.

“it is what it is. people will do what they want. thinking too hard about people’s actions will just cause unneeded stress.” eunseok says before smiling to an old lady. she declines the fruit cup, continuing down the line.

after the last person went through the food line, you and eunseok walked together to the prayer area. you two had a routine, falling into silence as you stared at the miniature altar for christ. you don’t know what eunseok thought about, maybe it was about leaving. you were too caught up in looking at him. as the same lady who was gossiping walked past you she gave you a fake smile on her face. your head followed her all the way down the hallway until she disappeared into another you. you scoff and return your gaze to the altar.

you knew eunseok was right, but you could never let it go. you had joined the church like most kids did when their parents were involved in the church. you didn’t consider yourself to be a nonbeliever, but you found yourself standing for what the church was supposed to represent. you liked helping people, you liked community service, you liked the kindness and acceptance that came with being a churchgoer. as you grew older you say that the way religion was practiced versus in theory was completely different. in your teen years, you clung to eunseok. he felt the same you did, but closer to when he left he seemed to accept it. your complaints fell on his deaf ears, and eventually he was gone.

you knew that what people said about him never bothered eunseok. you wished you could say he liked being talked about. eunseok was something like a celebrity of the church before he left. he was tall and kind. that was enough for him to be adored by the elders of the congregation. you were ignored and not held nearly as high in regard compared to eunseok. you accredited this to you constantly challenging the elders and calling out when they did something outdated. what bothered you was how unbothered he was when it came to himself.

when eunseok left, he left without saying a word. it would’ve been so easy to pass a note along to the pastor, or to say something during group. instead, he just left. so you had to deal with overhearing eunseok be the subject of gossip.

he left because he lost faith.

i heard he left town because he got some slut from his school pregnant.

he left to go to a city filled with drugs and alcohol.

he never learned hymns. he slept half the time.

may god guide that poor boys soul.

for six years you heard things you would be kicked out of church for repeating. you spent time defending the rumors at first. you would say the truth under your breath or tell the older women to mind their business with a smile on your face. you thought that you were invincible because you were equipped with the truth. you wielded the truth like a sword, trying to fight away rumors of someone you considered a friend. you learned the valuable lesson that the truth doesn’t overshadow the masses. you were protecting eunseok a little too fiercely, and ended up backing off when the rumors began to involve you.

she’s mad because she wanted eunseok to take her with him.

she should focus on finding a husband within the church instead of protecting one that has left it.

after becoming even more ostracized you started to adopt the same attitude eunseok had. you let the words wash off of you like rain. eunseok was lucky he wasn’t there for the fallout. you had become withdrawn and bitter towards everyone in the church. you would sit in front of the statue of christ, looking up at his pitiful outstretched hands. you don’t know how someone could be so merciful, so understanding. you were filled with unbridled rage looking up at his statue. that was the final time you bowed to the altar. you got up and dusted off your knees. you found this to be symbolic, brushing off what little devotion you had left to such a weak man.

six years later, you were still involved. you don’t know why you stayed. you often compared your relationship with the church as a friend you hated but couldn’t let go of—it weighed down on you but random moments of happiness made you stay. being in the building made you lethargic and looking at the whispering ladies made you sick. you didn’t see them as believers, you saw them as aimless people looking for something to poor endless praise upon. you saw them as less than nonbelievers.

despite your disdain for the church, you had more responsibilities than you did when you were in high school. the church often interfered with your career and part time job, but you also used it as an excuse. who was going to deny you the right to leave work early so you could worship? who would give you a penalty on an assignment that you missed due to you being needed at the church? clerical responsibilities were left in your hands. this was the effect of people leaving the flock too close together. you stopped caring why people left, or even learning people’s names in general. after some time, you would look around in the prayer halls or the lines at confessionals and you wouldn’t recognize a single face. you adopted the mindset that eventually, everyone would leave the congregation. you were just waiting your turn. you walked around the halls of the church and whispers followed you everywhere. they called you a nonbeliever, embodiment of an evil demon sent to destroy the church. you were blamed for people leaving, claiming that you were pushing people away from the path of righteousness. you found this ironic because your work for the church behind the scenes was one of the few things keeping it afloat.

maybe that’s another reason you stayed. as much as you hated those four walls you couldn’t stand to see them be torn down. eunseok was the same way.

you were assigning youth pastors to their groups when you heard his name for the first time in six years.

“song eunseok? why does that name sound so familiar?” mark said. instantly you looked up from the paper to eavesdrop on his conversation.

“song eunseok?” you repeated. mark and yeri look at you. you go back to looking at your schedule, gripping your pen a little tighter.

“yeah, do you know him?” mark says scratching his head.

“he used to attend the church when i was the same age as you guys.” you said. you remember the first time you met eunseok, thanking god for sending you someone who understood you. you almost chuckle looking at the paper recalling memories. if only you had known then what you knew now, you would’ve rebuked eunseok the moment you saw him.

“no freaking way, he went here?” yeri says, hitting marks shoulder.

“was he a youth pastor like us?” mark visibly gets excited as well.

you completely look away from your schedule now. how would these two know about eunseok? were there rumors floating around about him again?

“no, but he did help out with the church. why?” you say, trying to remain as neutral as possible.

“because he’s like a government official now” mark said. yeri looked at him and they both laughed, surprised you didn’t know who he was.

“what?” you abandon all efforts of sounding neutral.

“yeah look!” yeri shows you her phone.

you wish you could say you remained calm. your eyes nearly popped out of your head when you saw the headline. eunseok had made it out of your small town to a much bigger one, a place where he was included in making laws. you saw the article commend him for coming from nothing to graduating from a prestigious school and pursuing law. many people thought he was a revolutionary, demanding for progressively legislature despite only recently joining the board.

“oh my god.” you say.

“i don’t think you can say that.” mark said. the pair giggled again, but you were too caught up in looking at eunseok. he looked so different from the last time you saw him, but still the same. that was your eunseok. the one who giggled with you during confessionals. eunseok who stole extra crackers from communion because he could. the one who left you.

“i can’t believe it.” you say. the schedule has been completely forgotten. the iron resolve you had at church was broken in an instant. you could tell yeri and mark were shocked to see you show so much emotion.

“you must have been pretty close with him.” yeri says, grabbing back her phone.

“we were friends. like you two are.” you pull yourself out of your shocked state, trying to put on the same cold demeanor. you turn back to the group assignment, but every name you read looks like his.

“well you will probably be happy to hear that he’s coming to the church during tonight’s service,” mark said. he looked over your shoulder “are the schedules done yet?”

“what?” you can’t hold back the shock in your voice. your two youth group leaders laugh at your expense.

“the pastor is pretty hush hush about it. but i heard a rumor he’s coming to give a speech about donating something to the church.” yeri says.

mark grabs the group assignments off your desk and hands one to yeri. yeri audibly groans once she sees who she is assigned to. the pair leave quickly after getting their assignments, leaving you alone to your thoughts. eunseok had left the church for reasons unknown. you thought he would come back, the way poor sinners came back crawling in the rain, shaking their metal cup begging for an ounce of forgiveness. now he was coming back as someone who people would put on the altar next to god himself. did he even still pray? did he still remember the hymns that were drilled into their minds as kids? or did he truly forget it all to follow a life of fame and fortune? that wasn’t a lifestyle fit for a man of god.

you debate on leaving then and there. night service doesn’t start for another hour, and technically your duties for the day are done. you could slip out through any exit, and not come back until the next time you’re needed. eunseok would be long gone, and you could just hear about the rumors spread about his visit for the next six years. the thought of being in the same room as him made you sick, the same sick you felt seeing the gossiping sinners of the church stick their noses up at you.

with a power beyond your own, you feel yourself get up from your desk. you walk through the mostly empty offices, and head down the stairs. you try to be quiet, to not let the floorboards tell you their age underneath your feet. you can hear the low murmurs of men behind doors talking about things that have to be whispered. you’re sure they’re talking about the allocation of what you assume to be the heavy donation they’ll be receiving tonight. you can’t believe eunseok is becoming the very thing you hated. unfair donations, things that would be better off at any other organization instead being funneled into a failing church. it made you feel like a kid again, spying on the grownups trying to stay hidden. the only difference was that your previous partner in crime was the one you were hiding from.

you looked through the crack in the door and saw him. eunseok was wearing a suit not so different from what you remember him wearing six years ago. but he was different now, so different from the boy you grew up with. this eunseok had a more defined jawline, the baby fat from his cheeks was completely gone. he had a different hairstyle now too, one that made him look more mature. this eunseok towered over the men he spoke with. there was an aura now surrounding him now. he was already confident when you two had met, but now there was another layer to it. more depth. his boyish charm had turned into charisma of a handsome young man. you watched as he stood and listened to the men in robes bicker. so much had changed about eunseok but he still remained disinterested in anything pertaining to church.

you didn’t see eunseok speak until they brought up the lunch program.

“my donation is for the lunch program. i want all the funds to dedicated to the plan i emailed you before. you accepted the donation under the promise that the funds would be allocated there.” eunseok said. you figured the man with the briefcase and nice suit beside him was his lawyer. you leaned closer to the door, trying to gather everything.

apparently you were wrong about the donation. eunseok had plans to help the church expand who the lunch program would reach. instead of just a line inside the church, he wanted several stations in town near impoverished areas. he wanted to also expand the date and hours. you watched him explain his plan with an even head, but his hand flexing at his side told you he was getting frustrated.

when the conversation was over you had to quickly run away, flexing your feet so your presence wouldn’t be known. you don’t know how long you had stood there, but the night service was starting. you got caught in the flow of the crowd into the room that was much more packed than usual. mark and yeri left you a seat. you squeezed into the seat and picked at the hand fan that was passed around the room.

you were more nervous than you wanted to admit. you fidgeted and looked around for most of the service, waiting for eunseok to come out. you wished it would be over, each time the congregation stood your restless legs yelled at you to run.

when eunseok came out you stood still. mark had to nearly pull you down to sit after the hymn.

the pastor was speaking, but you couldn’t listen. all you could see was eunseok stand off to the side, hands in front of him as he listened. you wondered if he even remembered you, how surprised he would be that you were still here at the church you complained about everyday to him. then you thought about if he would even recognize you in the crowd of churchgoers. alot can happen in six years and you don’t doubt that eunseok has met his fair share of people. you think your face has blended into the mass of people sitting in the pews. you see his eyes look over the crowd, coming closer and closer to you. you prepare yourself to be filled with more disdain, more pain when he eventually looks over you.

when he sees you in the crowd, his eyes widen. you haven’t taken your eyes off him the whole time, wide and confused like he’s a mirage standing on the stage. you think he must have you confused, that he just paused in the crowd. his mouth opens in shock, the same shock you had seeing his name in the headlines.

“i think he recognizes you.” mark says, looking between you and eunseok.

you shush mark as the preacher continues to speak.

“so thank you to song eunseok, previous member of our parish for the generous donation.” the pastor says.

all around you people stood and clapped. you were amazed, seeing people that had spread rumors about eunseok cheer and clap for him now. as he bowed, people only clapped louder. the ones that called him stupid praised him for speaking to elegantly. when he thanked god, the ones that said he was a nonbeliever cheered the loudest. when eunseok got up from his bow, he kept his eye contact with you. it was a gaze of someone all knowing. he looked at you like he was trying to convey that it was all for show. eunseok was alot of things, and an entertainer was one of them. he was fit for the life of worship, a standing ovation suited him well. it made you sick how easily praise fell upon him, when you had worked so hard for this church just to be whispered about all day.

it was fanfare and fireworks for the next thirty minutes, everyone in the congregation practically tripping over themselves to get a picture with eunseok. handing him babies to kiss, asking for him to consider legislature that would benefit him. you noticed photographers trying their best to remain inconspicuous as they took photos. occasionally he would look to you and you had to look away. you wanted to avoid him all night, you don’t even know why you stayed. yeri and mark eventually made their way to him too, smiling in their group photo. you wanted to run away when you saw eunseok following behind mark and yeri.

“eunseok says he’s joining us for youth group tonight.” yeri says smiling.

when youth group split up you found yourself being short on handouts. eunseok’s appearance at the church brought in an influx of people, a number the church hasn’t seen in a long time. you were short on prayer pamphlets and eunseok volunteered to help you.

you tried to not be self conscious of the man behind you. you had walked through the church a million times before, but you felt yourself bump into walls you knew were there and turn the handles on locked doors. it was embarrassing having him follow you up the old and creaky outdated staircase. everything about you now felt so archaic. eunseok represented a time that was advanced past the chipping paint on the walls and the frayed robes the priests wore. it made your stomach churn thinking about how he didn’t remember where he came from. everywhere you turned there were people wanting a photo. you watched eunseok’s demeanor completely change to turn on some sort of charm. you didn’t say a word until you opened up your old desktop, printing out copies of papers from the dusty white printer.

“i didn’t expect to see you here.” eunseok said. you ignored him, only focusing on the sound of the old printer doing its best. you wish you could say you hated giving him the cold shoulder. being the one to deny him praise or acknowledgment felt like the justice you had been denied for the past six years.

“are you still mad at me? for leaving?” eunseok said. he moved from the door, coming to stand near your desk.

“i don’t care. you did what you did with your life eunseok.” you refuse to look at him as you speak.

you can hear his feet tap on the ground. being so cold is against your religious practices but you didn’t mind hell if it meant denying him heaven. you imagine someone like the eunseok that stood before you reveled in the attention good or bad. without any attention you think he would shrivel up like a plant without sun.

“i wanted to see you. but i couldn’t leave.” eunseok is standing beside you now. he crouches, look up at you trying to see your eyes. you focus your eyes so hard on the desktop that the typed words start to become blurry.

when he gets on his knees in front of you then look at him. your eyes are wide and shocked as he looks to you with genuine sadness. you are shocked to see eunseok look so lost. he has always been so sure of himself. the same person that projected confidence onstage was groveling at your feet.

“i know what you think of me.” he whispered.

the assumption of knowing you makes you bristle. if he knew you he would’ve never left you alone all those years ago.

“you don’t know anything.” you feel your years of being misunderstood bubble up to the surface. you spitting words quietly at eunseok is the only thing that keeps the anger at bay.

“i don’t know anything.” eunseok agrees with you. seeing him so easily give up makes you instantly regret your rage. your first instinct is to forgive him, to say sorry for being so cold. but then you think about the dust you brushed off your knee when you got up from the altar. you let out a sigh. nothing feels right anymore.

“you could’ve atleast called.” you say quietly.

“they wouldn’t let us have phones. i only recently got mine back.” eunseok says. he shuffles even closer to you, placing a kiss on your clothed knee. “the first thing i did with the money i’ve earned was to try and pay you back. to show you how sorry i am.”

having someone where eunseok was at in life look to you for forgiveness made you confused. after years of being denied autonomy, only becoming an extension of something else. when eunseok was here, you were an extension of him. when he left you became an extension of church, maybe even of god himself. but now you had eunseok kneel before you and talk to you as your own person. how did he not forget about you after all of that time. why did he rememberyou to the point that he made a donation to your church to apologize. you use your hand to tilt eunseok’s chin up. he finds your eyes, placing a hand over yours. you lean over to his shoulder.

“you’re pretty loved now. people treat you like a god. like you can change the world.” you say. eunseok nods his head. he agree with anything you said to him.

you looked down at eunseok, on his knees kissing your legs. he had lifted up your dress to get more access to your skin. after you get up from the chair you stand before eunseok. you think about the statue that hung above the altar the last timed you prayed. even though it’s been years since you looked to god for answers, you will never forget the desperation that rolled off of you in waves. it’s the same desperation that filled the room, the same desperation that filled eunseoks’ eyes. you felt like god now, extending a forgiving olive branch to someone who wronged you.

eunseok looks up to you from your feet. he had always been so much taller than you. now it seems like he had shrunk himself under your gaze.

“but whose altar do you bow to, eunseok? is it still gods’?” you ask.

eunseok looks at you deep in the eyes. it’s still the same eyes that left you alone all that time ago, the same eyes you thought about in the confines of your bed.

“i bow to his altar only to pray for your forgiveness. i feel devotion for you and you alone.” eunseok says.

“people call you a nonbeliever. is that true?” you ask.

“i believe in you. isn’t that enough?” eunseok says with a solemn expression on his face. he goes back to kissing your body. he lifts your dress higher and higher, exposing even more skin. he kisses up to your knee, lifting more of your dress. he looks to you one final time before you pinch the fabric of your dress. you lightly pull up your hands, exposing your mid thigh. he purposely puts the end of your dress in the palm of your hands, letting you control how much of your skin he gets to kiss.

he sucks and kisses on the exposed skin, working from your right calf up. when he gets to the highest part of your exposed body he works his way down the other leg. you stand in front of the powerful man. the same lips that will eventually address a nation kiss you timidly, like you are going to run away. the same hands that will write legislature pull you close. you slowly lean back until you’re sitting on the edge of your computer desk. you bring a leg up to prop it on the chair. eunseok looks to you as you bring the fabric of your dress to rest underneath your chin.

“i want to worship you,” eunseok looks up from a kiss placed on your thigh. his fingers enclose on the waistband of your panties. he looks to you for approval, for permission to go further. “i want to show you how regretful i am. how apologetic i feel.”

“then do it.” you say.

without missing a beat, eunseok pulls your panties down your legs. he’s delicate with the way he removes them, lifting you legs so you don’t have to do any of the work. eunseok crumbles the pair into his pants pocket. you don’t ask for it back, the image of him treating your undergarmets like a rosary, gripped in his hand while he tries to remember what gods touch felt like. he put large hand on the back of your thighs and lifts. you have a leg over his shoulder and the other still is in the chair. you lean back on your desk. you think about your body weight straining the old oak. if it breaks, you will just ask your loyal devotee to buy you a new one.

eunseok doesn’t take his eyes off of you, looking for visual cues on what to do next. he places sweet kisses on the area surrounding your heat. you lift your hips he brings an arm from your thigh to rest on your stomach, holding you in place. he doesn’t dare to tell you what to do, just hoping you will listen to his physical pleas for control.

he places a single kiss on your core. you ball the end of your dress and put it inside of your mouth to try and muffle any sounds you may make. eunseok goes back to placing kisses on your thigh. he grabs your hand and places it on his head. you immediately use your hand to hold his soft brown hair. eunseok kisses your heat. he keeps his lips there, continuing to give you chaste kisses. you try to keep your composure but fail when his tongue comes from between his lips. he takes a long stripe and you can feel his tongue inside of you. you moan into the fabric of your dress and bring him closer with your leg behind his back. you are acting on your own volition, using your heels and hand to bring him even closer to your core. with your spare hand you grab eunseok’s hand and squeeze. you feel an absence and look down at eunseok between your legs. he has slick covering his mouth as he looks at you wide eyed.

“can i ask for forgiveness?” eunseok smiles before placing a sweet kiss to your thigh.

“ask god.” your chest heaves with each word. you don’t know when you lost your breath, but each words comes out in rushed huffs.

“i am.” eunseok says before diving back in between your legs.

he’s more aggressive with you this time around. he uses the hand that was holding your stomach down to spread your folds. you keep looking at eunseok, and he pulls back to look you in the eyes again. he spits on your clit and you throw your head back in ecstasy. how can something so filthy feel so exhilarating. you can’t stop thinking about how this is a sin you would die on the cross for. eunseok puts his middle finger inside of you and sucks on your clit. you arch more and more into his mouth, holding his hair tightly. your muffled sounds get higher and higher as eunseok becomes more intense. you close your thighs around him but he doesn’t pull away. his tongue is coated in forgiveness as he bows into your altar. he takes everything, sucking and licking you until you come down from the heaven eunseok took you too.

mindlessly you pull eunseok up to you. he hesitates at first but obliges, letting you gather him into your arms. against your knee, you can feel his hardened length. you think about how you’re ignoring your duties as the one keeping your oratory going. you consider yourself to be a selfish god as you reach for the belt of eunseoks’ slacks.

his hands consume yours. you are forced to look up to him now, as he stands taller than your perch on the desk. his eyes are wide and show you conflicting emotions. he shouldn’t be scared to do what he wants in your home. you decide that you make the rules as you continue to undo his belt.

“you have my forgiveness and maybe a little more than that,” you say. eunseok’s eyes become hooded and his expression becomes hungry. “but now i need you to fuck me like you’re making up for lost time.”

eunseok lets you undo his belt. the unbuckling sound gives his desperation its wings as he goes back to your dress. he unzips the back of the dress and pulls it over your shoulders. it falls forward and you stay in your white lacy bra. you both decide you don’t have enough time to completely abandon your clothing. eunseok takes the lead on undressing himself, unzipping his pants and letting them fall to the ground. he comes back to you and rubs his clothed length against your knee. you moan and tilt your head to see him get lost in the pleasure. you bite your lip looking at him. you can feel him pulsing against you as he lets his head lean back. he’s sighing in relief and you wonder if things stress him out now, if he feels pressure to do well as a politician. you decide wordlessly to take on all his stress and hardship like a good god does. you reach for his briefs and unclothe him. eunseoks’ hard member bobs up and down before pointing straight towards you. it’s angry and red, the tip leaking with precum. eunseok moans from the cold air hitting him. you never took him as the sensitive type.

you reach for him and stroke him gently. eunseok has his eyes closed but finds your shoulder easily, holding onto you to ground himself. his head retreated into your neck as you gently jerked him off. he says something that sounds like a confession into your ear, talking about how he’s never felt this good in his life. how he has only thought about you in moments like these, no matter the circumstance.

“devotion looks pretty on you eunseok.” you whisper into his ear. you guide him to your entrance and eunseok looks between your bodies to see where you two meet.

eunseok kisses your neck as he slowly sinks into you. you tremble and suddenly six years of complicated feelings becomes incredibly simple. you lift you leg that was hanging over the desk to rest on the edge. this angle changes something in eunseok. he pulls away from the crook in your neck and places a confident hand on your bent knee. he doesn’t break eye contact as he pulls all the way out. eunseok’s gaze doesn’t falter when he puts it back in with a hard and fast thrust, one that makes everything on your desk shift. eunseok does it a second time and for a split second your resolve breaks. you only have a little bit of time to compose yourself when eunseok pulls out all the way again. when eunseok does it for the third time you falter, eyebrows contorting in pleasure. eunseok smiles.

“you feel that?” eunseok says.

before you can respond. he changes the pace after seeing you falter. he hips work in a steadfast motion. you can hear things shift out of place and fall off your desk. the floorboard creak from the commotion and your boobs jump in your bra. you have to lean forward and grab eunseok for stability. he hooks his arms underneath your legs pulling you closer to him. the new angle has you whimpering and you can see eunseok’s dress shirt becoming wrinkled under your grip. your whimpers become high pitched and whiny when you hear eunseok’s grunts from above you. everything feels so surreal you forget that you truly are human. you can’t make the pleasure last forever, you must go through the same ups and downs as the rest of humanity. you grip onto eunseok harder and bring him down so you can kiss him. you want to bask in whatever high you are about to feel so you can remember it next time you bow at the altar. eunseok pulls away and quickly pushes things off the desk. he lays you down and puts your ankles behind his head, placing an arm over your thighs to keep your legs straight. this angle has you feeling him drag against your walls and you can feel him hitting a spot deep inside of you. this position makes it easier for eunseok to flick your clit. you shake around him and you can hear the slapping of your skin against his.

“i’m a saint. i want my god to cum first.” eunseok says smiling.

you can barely breathe as the orgasm rakes through your body. you put a hand on his arm that holds your legs and he abandons holding your legs to grip your hand. your legs become loose and eunseok bends them to kiss your face. you can barely focus on kissing him back, too busy trying to make gain control of your senses. everything is flooded with white and gold and sky blue. eunseok becomes rushed and sloppy making your pulsing erratic. you a new wave of pleasure hits you as eunseok throbs inside of you. you can feel years of lost time fill you to the brim and he slumps against you. things on your desk finally still and you breathe out heavily, finally regaining your composure. you can feel eunseok slide out of you and you let your legs dangle over the edge of the desk.

when he settles on your chest you pet his hair, trying to smooth out the strands that stick out in random places. he listens to your heartbeat, you listen to his deep breaths.

it feels like ages before you move from underneath eunseok. you had forgotten how big he is and how comforting it always was being in close proximity to him. eunseok gets off of you and guides you off the desk. you pull your dress back over your bra and eunseok puts on his clothes. as you grab papers from the printer eunseok brushes out your dress to help you look put together again. you return the favor, smoothing down his disheveled hair. you hand him his belt and you fix his crooked vote pin that resides on his lapel. you both do this in silence, working in collaboration to hide your secret church service.

as you fix his cuffs, you can feel his burning gaze. you don’t know why now you feel nervous.

“do you still remember the secret exit we’d take when sneaking out of youth group?” eunseok asks. when you finish with his cuffs you look at him and smile.

“yes. do you?” you ask.

he smile and nods.

“how could i forget?”

#01zfan: eunseok #seriez: sacrilegious #eunseok smut #riize smut

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