#lets pretend I knew last chapter was just a corner mouth kiss

[dawnoftime22]

OKAY HISTORY'S BEEN MADE. THEY'VE KISSED. I'M GONNA BE MELTING IN THE CORNER FROM THAT LAST PART. 🥹

let's talk about the LOREEEEE thoooooooo

I'm scared of what's happened in Wednesday's vision. Is Fae gonna get hurt again?? the petal Wednesday touched was a draeconium petal. Or was it a flashback to when Fae's wings were hurt?Aaand you're making me lose my mind with the last sentence in that vision 🫠

—FLASHOVER | SEVEN

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday finds it's pleasant talking to you. There's a rhythmic back and forth, easy to follow along. So, why is it that you've been making bets and comments in your latest conversations that are way too emotionally charged for someone like Wednesday to know what to do with the static and friction.

Warnings: Competitive!Wednesday. Jealous!Wednesday. Competitive!Enid—she's gonna win that trophy again. Thing—should be getting paid honestly. Xavier—only knows losing.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

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Note: This is a little longer to make up for the short chapter last time 🤏 let the action begin! I hope you enjoy it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) also yes i did change part 6's graphic nobody say anything shh

Part Six

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Flashover: Noun. The moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you've built up through decades of friction with the world.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was the day before the Poe Cup race, and everyone was finishing the last touches to their boat. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

Enid and Wednesday glanced at each other.

"No."

"Yes."

They say it simultaneously, and you give them an amused smile.

"I mean it's not, not okay," Enid explains to you. "I need to win this trophy a second time in a row, alright?"

Enid finishes polishing the last of the boat, waving the two of you off as Yoko comes in, holding a jumpsuit that makes Wednesday's lip part slightly and sigh. Placing her hand on the small of your back, she begins to push you to walk away.

"Aren't you going to stay and finish helping?" You ask curiously, though not resistant at all to being led away. 

"No," Wednesday drones. "I'm only entering as Enid is down a rower. My conditions were that I'm copilot again this year and that outside of giving my input and checking on the boat, I wouldn't be forced into their team-bonding."

You give her an amused smile, stopping as the two of you stand in the empty hall. Turning to face Wednesday, her eyes are alight with curiosity, even if the rest of her face doesn't show it. 

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, your smile lingering on your lips. 

The ravenette peers back at you, and you feel memorized by how long her lashes are. It takes you to then admire her smooth skin—even if it lacks life. Wednesday's lips are also supp—

"What," Wednesday drives you back to reality. Her eyebrows are furrowed, confused by your intensive study of her face and silence.

You bring the crook of your finger to your mouth, clearing your throat with a cough, trying to suppress the blood rising to your cheeks.

"I was just wondering if you're ever bothered about the fact that we're..." your voice drifts off as you think about the correct way to label the two of you, "involved, and you don't have my number. I have yet to hear even one possible nickname for me from you."

"Why?" Wednesday asks with a raise of her brow. "Are you offering it to me without?"

You smile with a shake of your head. "I'm afraid not," you say but don't look sorry at all. "Rules are rules, Wednesday."

"Rules are made to be broken," Wednesday pushes back. "If I had followed every inane rule since arriving at this penitentiary, everyone would've been none the wiser and perished."

"Hm," you hum, conceding with a nod. "I would argue more that despite your lack of knowing the rules, everyone survived."

Wednesday glares at you, and she's about to demand that you explain, but you cut in before she can say anything.

"I'm enchanted by rule-breakers, Wednesday, but only by those who know the rules well enough to break them," your smile is teasing, but Wednesday can't help but tense her shoulders and stifle her frown. She's about to say something when she spots movement from the side of her eye.

That lanky, stuttering boy. 

"F-Fae!" He started hesitantly but grew more confident when he saw you smile his way.

"Hello, Henry," you politely greet. "How are you today? Are you heading to the practice room?"

He nods eagerly. "I'm good, and yeah. I swear I can do something cool if you can come see it next time," he smiles shyly back but doesn't give you time to accept or decline. "Are you going to the Poe Cup race tomorrow?"

You nod. "Yes, Bianca has asked me to come cheer for her."

Wednesday bristles. 

"Will you be going?" You ask Henry.

He looks regretful as he shakes his head no. "Unfortunately not. My father's birthday is this weekend, and I'm picking out his gift rather last minute. I'll be heading into town mulling over what I could possibly get the perpetually unsatisfied man."

You look on pityingly at him. "I'm sure he'll be happy with what you get."

"Yes," Wednesday cut in. "If not, then get him something he will undoubtedly be miserable with."

Henry looks at Wednesday strangely while you try to hide your chuckle behind your fist. 

"Well, Henry, Wednesday and I better head to class. I'll let you know who wins the race." You wave him goodbye, and he happily returns it back. He looks at Wednesday, waving at her too, but she merely stares at him before turning away to walk with you. 

As they're walking, Wednesday can hear footsteps. There's a nagging feeling in her stomach and a pricking feeling on the back of her neck. She turns her head back to look at the lanky boy but sees him sitting under one of the arches of the hall.

The sight leaves Wednesday confused, but she turns her head back to you. 

"You're cheering for Bianca?" Wednesday asks flatly, leaving out any emotions in her tone that could reveal her feelings.

"Well, she did ask me very early on," you reveal, slowing your walk down as you're in no rush to get to class. 

Wednesday follows your pace, disgruntled by the sudden change in speed and your answer. "You have pledged your allegiance to the wrong side as I will be defeating Bianca for the second time in a row. Switch or you will taste defeat right along with her."

You lick your lips, trying to not laugh. "I don't know. Bianca mentioned she had a very strategic plan. It's possible she may win."

"Over my dead body. Thing is aggrieved with you."

"Thing isn't even here," you point out, laughing. "Alright," you grin. "Why don't we make a little bet?"

"And what exactly will the winner get?"

You look up slightly in thought before looking over to Wednesday. "How about the winner gets to plan the first date?"

Wednesday comes to a dead stop. She looks at you, a little wary. "First date?"

You nod. "I think we're due for our first one." You seem like you're going to say something else but pause for a moment before sighing. "Damn, we really have all of this backward. At this rate, we'll end up doing everything else before you get my number."

Wednesday mildly scrunches her nose, her lip curling at your comment. "Why on earth would I want to plan our...our..." Wednesday can't seem to get the words out. "A date," she forces out instead.

You smirk at her. "Because if I plan it, I might subject you to a night of snood-wearing, hair-braiding, nail-painting, 2000s romcom movies date night."

Wednesday's eyes widen, looking ghastly at the suggestion. Disgust is written all over her face, and it takes everything you have to not burst into laughter. "I thought dates were supposed to be enjoyable for both parties."

"I have to keep you on your toes," you say, trying your best to sound serious. 

They start walking again, and Wednesday's eyes flitter back and forth as she considers your words. "Would you really subject me to that kind of torture?" She doesn't know whether to hate you or be proud.

"No," you admit, unable to continue your charade. "But now you know there is an appeal to being able to choose the activities we do."

The two of you stop in front of the class door, and most people have already arrived. 

"Good luck in the race, Wednesday," you say softly, starting to walk into the classroom. 

Wednesday feels the tension in her ease at your well-wishes and soft tone. 

You look back at her with a brow raised. "And maybe next time, ask me earlier to come cheer for you."

Wednesday clenches her jaw, following after you as she snaps back. "Perhaps don't agree to cheer for the enemy regardless of how early she asks."

It's irritating when you can sense when there is and isn't a bite in her tone because you only turn around, giving her a smile that makes her own lips threaten to match.  

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sun beats down on Wednesday, making her normally cool skin feel clammy under her catsuit. The race was about to begin soon, and Enid was yammering something to her, but she wasn't listening. 

Looking around, Wednesday spots you chatting with Bianca, looking impressed with the sirens' boat. Her lips purses mildly in irritation as she turns back to Enid.

"What's the matter?" Enid asks, but Wednesday doesn't give her an answer, forcing her to search for what could irritate her best friend and roommate. Enid finds it immediately.

"It's totally fine," Enid dismisses, trying to comfort Wednesday. "Once we win, faerie berry will be celebrating with you."

"You already used that one," Wednesday ignores everything else Enid says, "and it's foul."

"To you," Enid says, stinking her tongue out. "I'll have you know it made Fae laugh."

"What's the point of having the nickname if you're going to call her Fae anyway," Wednesday points out. "Admit it. You've run out of ideas."

"O-m-g, just shut up," Enid scrunches her nose at her roommate. "This is what I get for trying to comfort you while your girlfriend cheers for someone else."

"She's not my—" Wednesday feels the heat flare up in her cheeks, even if it doesn't show (thankfully). But Enid cuts her off and starts dragging her towards the canoe.

As they all sit in their positions: Wednesday and Enid in the middle, Yoko at the front, and another girl at the back. The crowd settles and they prepare to hear the signal. 

Ajax isn't participating this year, so there is no one to distract Enid. Or so Wednesday thinks, but Enid turns her head around and smiles at her boyfriend.

"Focus, Enid," Wednesday sighs. 

The gunshot goes off, and everyone begins to paddle rigorously. It's similar to how last year started off. Everyone except Wednesday is unaware of the secret siren lurking under the waters. The first boat is eliminated almost immediately. 

Wednesday finds it suspicious that Kent heads towards her boat despite knowing she has a net prepared. But she's not left with much choice and has Thing activate the first switch. 

Just as last year, the siren is caught in her net. When Thing comes back onto the boat, he describes how the siren slowly sinks to the bottom as he tries to claw his way out. Wednesday hums, her eyes continuing to focus ahead as she paddles.

They reach the halfway point, and when Wednesday looks, she sees you peacefully sitting at the edge of the wooden dock, your feet free of shoes and socks as they languidly dip in the water. 

You send her a small wave and smile at her, which she doesn't return. But then you also look at Bianca, who has also spotted you, and send her two thumbs up at being slightly ahead.

Wednesday rows more forcefully. 

When they reach the Crackstone's crypt, Wednesday runs off to grab their flag as she did last year. She's highly sure that Thing won't be able to distract anyone else from deserting their boat, so Enid and Thing will need to get creative. 

"Hope you don't plan on taking a cat nap this time, Addams," Bianca quips as she catches up to Wednesday. 

"Why not?" Wednesday monotones, not bothering to look over. "I did last year and still managed to beat you."

"That was beginner's luck," Bianca snappishly says before smiling. "Just like fencing."

"We'll see," Wednesday answers with finality before out-running the siren to the crypt. 

Xavier has already grabbed his flag, flashing Wednesday a cocky smile as he passes her. "I'm not losing this year, Wednesday!"

She doesn't pay him any mind as she runs up to grab their own flag. She grasps it, ready to run back, when something catches her eye from the side. Amongst the yellow and green leaves lay a single vivid cobalt teal petal. Leaning down, she goes to pick it up. The second her fingers touch it, her body seizes. 

Controlling her gift has become better over the summer, and she can stop herself from falling over, but she can't contain how it feels like livewire ripping at her skin, unnerving her. 

"Jericho grows these flowers—draeconiums. They're usually harmless and have a short bloom lifecycle."

"They bloomed under an eclipse."

"Poisonous sap—harder than any metal."

"It's the only thing that can cut off a faerie's wings."

Wednesday feels like she's choking. She sees blood coating her hands along with stray black feathers. Darkness slowly clouds her vision until it's all she can see.

"Did you think because I smiled at you that I was kind? That I wasn't capable of hurting you?"

Wednesday's eyes snap open. She looks around and finds herself still standing in front of the crypt, gripping the pole of her flag until her knuckles are white.

"Don't tell me you're winded." Bianca runs up, grabbing her flag and not even sparing Wednesday a glance. "Guess I should work you harder in fencing."

Wednesday doesn't say anything, beginning to run back to the boat. 

The voice was distinctly clear. After all, Wednesday hears it every day and even dreams about it sometimes. She hears it every night she applies the salve to your wrecked wings. The only thing that throws Wednesday off balance is the acid in the tone—in your voice. 

She looks at the creased cobalt teal petal in her other hand.

What was a draeconium petal doing on the island?

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The second half of the race becomes tense. 

Kent seems to not have escaped from the net, which Wednesday found odd. He must've been hiding somewhere. 

Suddenly, the Amontillado team starts to sink, and Xavier lets out a big groan, slumping in the back.

"What did you do?" Wednesday asks.

"Thing and I switched it up this time. I distracted them and Thing drilled holes at the bottom of their boat," Enid wickedly grins just as Thing comes out from hiding under, dragging a cordless drill. "I bought that over the summer. It's waterproof!"

"How did you distract them?" Wednesday was curious. 

"My feminine wiles." Enid looks so innocent that Wednesday almost couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. 

Now it was just the Black Cats, and the Gold Bugs left, and it seems Kent decided to make his appearance known then, coming up to push the Black Cat's boat, steering them off course and towards the buoy. 

Thing throws himself into the water, swimming under the canoe towards the siren, who is smirking. Just as Thing is about to punch Kent in his face, another siren pops up from behind, securing Thing into a bag and pulling the string closed tight despite the thrashing.

Wednesday waits a few more seconds, but the answer becomes clear, especially when she sees two tails splash up briefly from the water. 

Thing doesn't swim back up from the water, and their boat is still being pushed off course forcefully. Wednesday turns on the second switch, which activates the harpoon spikes on the side of the boat. This year, they implemented a few more that would be underwater to deter sirens from getting close. 

It seemed while Wednesday expected Bianca to bring more sirens to assist her under the water, Bianca had also anticipated Wednesday knowing and preparing their boat to adjust. 

Therefore, the queen bee siren had prepared something unexpected at the very end. 

Their boat suddenly stops being pushed off course but then something worse happens. In the water, the two sirens work in tandem, swimming in rapid circles, and a whirlpool near the Black Cat's boat forms with speed, beginning to drag their unwilling boat toward disaster. 

"Paddle!" Enid screams, but it's useless. 

Thing was trapped under. 

It wasn't like he would die or anything, but there was no way his fingers would have enough strength to swim away from the forming whirlpool. He would be sucked in, swirling around until he likely hit the bottom of the river, exhausted and unable to swim back up. 

They were just past the halfway point. Wednesday had seen you as she paddled back, looking just as relaxed and languid. Now, you were peering furiously into the water as if trying to find Thing. 

Your head snaps up, locking eyes with Wednesday as she is being pulled into the whirlpool. She isn't too worried as she's an adept swimmer, and the most challenging obstacle would be holding her breath long enough to make it through to the end of the whirlpool and not slam her head at whatever was at the bottom, then have enough air to swim back up. She hopes her teammates are capable of doing the same.

If she didn't drown, she might try to find the opportunity to discover where Thing was trapped.

But then Wednesday watches you stand, loosening the tie around your neck, discarding it on the ground before you roll your skirt's waistband down several times and pull it higher up your body so the length is above your knees. Then, she watches you do a perfect dive into the river. 

The first feeling Wednesday experiences is apprehension because Wednesday doesn't even know if you can swim. Why wasn't that one of the things she asked you? 

But she only knows right now that there's a continuous rapid whirlpool, getting stronger by the minute. If you get sucked into that, and you aren't an adept swimmer, you will certainly, at the very least, drown. 

It would be okay for Thing and sirens, but definitely not creatures that needed air. 

Wednesday throws her oar back into the boat, ready to throw herself into the water, when Enid grabs her wrists and yanks her back down. 

"Enid!" Wednesday snaps, feeling that apprehension grow into something worse when you haven't popped back up for air yet. 

"You can't jump down there, you idiot!" Enid snaps back. "Unless your skin can absorb water and turn it into oxygen or you're hiding gills somewhere, you'll drown! Our best bet is to paddle into the moving downstream of the whirlpool and slingshot ourselves around and out."

"Yes, however—" Wednesday starts to argue but is cut short when the rapid current of the whirlpool and the pull of their boat suddenly begin to slow down. 

The look of confusion passes through everyone's face, especially Bianca's, as she paddles past Wednesday.

Eventually, the water is still again, and the heads of the sirens responsible for the whirlpool pop out of the water.

"Fuck!" Kent shouts with his hands to his eyes, rubbing them. "I can't see anything!"

The other one near their boat pops up, looking frantic. 

"Why is it suddenly dark?" She sputters, holding out her hand as she wades through the water, trying to find something. Her hand slaps against the Black Cat's boat, and she looks alarmed. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Are you blind?" Enid waves her hand in front of the girl's face, but there's no reaction. She even jumped at Enid's voice, not realizing how close she was. "It's very much still daylight out."

Wednesday looks into the girl's eyes but finds something amiss. 

The girl is still sputtering, asking for help, but Enid is more ruthless than Wednesday thought, especially since it seems like the siren's vision is slowly returning.

"Peace and love to you but goodbye!" Enid shouts as she directs everyone to start paddling. 

Wednesday paddles but looks to the side, where she sees an arm shoot up and grab the edge of the wooden dock. Another arm shoots out, and you're hoisting yourself up onto it. Thing is on your shoulder, and relief floods Wednesday's body. 

Wednesday locks eyes with you, catching you wringing the bottom of your dress shirt and skirt. You smile at her before mimicking the gesture of her paddling, telling her she should paddle faster. 

Turning back to the course, Wednesday puts her back into paddling. It seems that this year, Bianca learned her lesson, building her boat with deadly weapons, and prepared for the worst-case scenario of Wednesday somehow catching up.

Just as Wednesday paddles up next to the Gold Bug's boat with the spikes out, Bianca activates the harpoons from her boat, forcing them to keep their distance. The sirens have planted spikes around their entire boat to prevent the Black Cats from trying to get them on another side. With her team being stronger paddlers, Bianca gives Wednesday a victorious smirk as she paddles away.

But—Wednesday had banked on the fact that Bianca would grow smarter. She activates the third switch on the boat. A lid opens up at the bow of their canoe, and a small harpoon cannon rises. 

"Don't miss," Wednesday threatens Yoko, who waves her off dismissively with a hand and grabs onto the handles. 

"What?" Yoko smirks. "Do you think my eyes being in the dark with the sunglasses on would impede my perfect vision? I only bumped into a wall 6 times this week."

Wednesday doesn't comment back, mostly because Enid already seems too high-strung at this moment that she's confident the werewolf would kill her vampire best friend if the girl missed the shot. 

Yoko spends only a few moments aiming before shooting, the harpoon shooting out with force, piercing right into the opening hole of one of the spikes on the Gold Bug's boat. 

"See!" Yoko grins. "All that worry for nothing." Yoko presses a button to reel the harpoon, and as it yanks back, it rips a hole into the Gold Bug's boat.

Water quickly fills Bianca and her team's boat, and they're left bitterly watching the Black Cats row by them a second year in a row. 

The cheers are deafening as they return to the dock, with everyone jumping and screaming.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Enid screams, hugging Wednesday as the girl grunts with displeasure but allows it. "This better be the only highlight of my year!"

Wednesday finds it amusing before she turns and scans the crowd. She sees you in the far back, trying to not draw any attention to yourself. Your hair is still damp, but your clothes look relatively dry as you've been standing in the sun. Thing isn't anywhere to be seen, assumedly going back to the dorm room to rest. 

You're not cheering or clapping, but you're beaming, seemingly pleased at Wednesday's victory. 

"You're getting really good at this school spirit thing. I know you have no beef with Bianca this year, but you have to admit that it feels good to beat her again," Enid conspiringly whispers. 

Wednesday turns her head to look at Bianca, who is climbing out of the water, looking vexed. "Defeating someone always feels good," Wednesday smirks. "But it feels better when there's a reason to."

That's what her fencing rival gets for asking you to come and cheer for her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday knocks on the door of your room carefully. She's never been to your room before, but she does like how isolated it seems. The room is further down the hall, away from others.

"Come in." Wednesday hears the muffled voice on the other side of the door. 

Turning the knob, Wednesday enters to find you standing at your full-length mirror, drying your hair. You're in casual clothing, a sight that Wednesday is used to. Wednesday, herself, was wearing a striped black and white long-sleeved shirt and a black sweater over that. 

"Hey," you look at her through the mirror, smiling as you lock eyes with her. "Not going to celebrate with your teammates?"

"I told Enid I'd think about it," Wednesday says, recalling the same words she told the blonde last year. Of course, she had been thinking about it if you were there, but Thing brought her a note from you saying to come meet her after she was done celebrating.

Therefore, Wednesday opted to skip if you weren't going. 

You chuckle, not commenting on it. "Do you want some tea?"

Wednesday nods, looking down at the fuzzy black rug and a small round coffee table a few feet away. She strides her way around before sitting on the floor at the coffee table.

There are two mugs and a cordless electric kettle in the middle of your coffee table that you open up before grabbing a water bottle to pour its contents in. You shut the lid before turning it on, and the sound of water heating fills up the room.

Wednesday takes a moment to look around the room, noting how similarly plain it was like hers (her side, at least). The room was much smaller than Wednesday's, but it was obvious it was your room alone. 

You had little personal items, mostly photos you'd taken with your friends. Instead of a twin bed like everyone else, you had a queen-size tucked in the corner. Beside it, against the wall and in front of a window, was a long desk, enough for two people to work on it if they squished. But it was barren besides a laptop and a photo of you and Bianca and you with Enid and Yoko. 

At the end of your desk stood the full-length mirror. There was a reach-in closet on the opposite side of the room, filled with your clothes that hung neatly. A lot of them looked new and unworn. 

There was little walking room, but Wednesday found it comfortable. 

"You don't have a roommate?" Wednesday asks, even though the answer is obvious.

"No," you shake your head. "It'd be impossible to hide my wings with a roommate and I need to let them out every night or they'd be very, very sore. Not to mention how miserable I'd be keeping them for that long."

"It must be nice," commented Wednesday.

You shrug. "I'm used to it, I suppose. But sometimes I'm envious of the whole…" you wave your hand in a vague motion, "roommates thing. It seems nice."

Wednesday snorts derisively. "You say that without knowing Enid's habit for snoring and singing horrid pop music. It's hard to get work done sometimes."

You finish drying your hair, letting the rest of it air dry. You hang the towel on the mirror's edge before sitting down next to Wednesday, your shoulder bumping hers. "Well, you're welcome anytime here, even if I'm not around if you want some peace and quiet," you offer. "Usually if I’m here, I'm not doing anything much except on my laptop and with earphones in."

Wednesday fidgets with her fingers at your tempting offer. "I see you've fallen into the downfall of our age—technology."

You laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. It's such a melodic sound that Wednesday can't help but think of her vision earlier and the acid in your tone. 

Was it even possible?

The water finally finishes heating up, and you place the tea bags into the two cups before pouring hot water into them, sliding one mug in front of Wednesday, who nods in thanks.

"I will admit that I've fallen into binging Netflix shows or documentaries, and the occasional snooping of Enid's blog, but I can't say it's an addiction of mine," you reveal. "Fae realms aren't as modern as the outside world. We have things like electricity, heating, and plumbing but technology isn't as prevalent. It's more used for research than it is for entertainment."

"I see," Wednesday tilts her head at the information. She wishes her mother would hurry up with that goddamn diary. 

"I believe a lot of the younger generation is fighting for change but a lot of high lords are against it," you sigh.

Wednesday doesn't know what to say. She's not knowledgeable enough about fae realms to comment on it. But you change the subject before she can even attempt to think of an answer.

You turn to her, a crooked smile on your lips. "Congratulations on today," you say softly. "You were very impressive."

Wednesday shrugs off your laudatory. "Victory was only possible because of you," she acknowledges. She turns to you, narrowing her eyes. "You did something to those sirens. It caused them to be temporarily blind."

You nod. 

"Is that your power?"

You vaguely nod again, swaying back and forth as if that's only part of the answer.

"One of them, yes." You finally say. "It's a mild form of psychic powers. I'm not actually physically impairing their eyes, but rather clouding their mind, cutting off certain brain signals so that they think it's pitch black."

"I'm not really good at it," you hurry to say after, as if worried. "I don't have a lot of practice, and it can only last a few minutes at best."

"That is impressive," Wednesday genuinely compliments. 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks and rub the back of your neck shyly. "Thanks," you mumble.

Wednesday senses your discomfort and decides to not push you about your powers for tonight. 

"I thought you were rooting for Bianca," Wednesday says quietly. "We had a bet, did we not?"

You tilt your head at Wednesday, almost as if you're confused by her words. And then you're leaning closer to her. 

Wednesday is impossibly still. The air suddenly feels electrically charged, sparks forming as the silence drags on. It was infuriating and intoxicating how you could turn the mood so fast.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, silkily, making the ravenette twitch. "Are you a competitive person?"

"Most definitely." Wednesday answers without hesitation and in a tone that almost seems proud. "I can be obsessive, single-minded, and I don't often lose."

"I'm not a competitive person at all," you admit to her, leaning closer. "I make bets all the time without a care if I win or lose them."

You had taken a sip of your tea earlier, and Wednesday could feel the heat of it on your breath. She could practically feel the heat radiating off your lips. 

"That's ridiculous," Wednesday tries to keep the steel in her voice, but she feels something in the back of her throat wavering.

"Is it?" You retort back quietly. "If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."

The words take a moment for Wednesday to process. Her eyes focus, recalling the bet, and she feels her stomach knot. 

"I don't care who plans the date," you say the words out loud, forcing Wednesday to publicly acknowledge it. "Because in the end, we'll be having a date."

You smile, and it causes your lips to brush against Wednesday, and her eyes flutter close.

"Although, I do admit it will be fun to watch you attempt to plan a date that will entertain us both," you tease. 

Wednesday's eyes snap back open, glaring at you. "Don't get ahead of yourself," she raises her brow at you. "If I can't be sure to plan the best date, I may settle to plan the worst one."

"Worst?" You try to not laugh.

"It would end in tears…on your end. Uncomfortable displeasure on mine."

"And the best?"

Wednesday is silent.

You let the silence linger between the two of you, basking in the proximity of Wednesday Addams. 

"Want to make another bet?" Your eyes flitter up to look into Wednesday's gaze.

"Exactly what kind?" Wednesday asks. Given your revelation, she knows she should say no, but curiosity has always been Wednesday's killer.

Wednesday watches you observe her, studying every meticulous feature of her face as if searching for something. Wednesday is stiff, but she's leaning closer even if she doesn't realize it.

"If you stay completely still for the next five minutes, I'll refrain and wait to kiss you on our first date," you say, moving somehow closer to Wednesday's face, tilting her face more against hers. Your lips brush but never fully touch. "If you move, you have to kiss me right now."

Everyone knows that Wednesday can stay still long enough to make people believe she's dead. You must've known that, especially having listened to people telling you about last year's events. 

So, Wednesday thinks about what this bet is about. 

"If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."

And regardless of the results of the bet, you'd get a kiss.

Wednesday swallows, feeling something strange happen to her by just your words. 

It's the kind of revelation that feels emotionally charged. It's a build-up of all the time she has spent with you and pathetically pined after you. 

Wednesday is a very competitive person. She detests losing. It brings pity, rage, and self-disgust.

Yet, because it's you, there's an underlying spark of trust in defeat. 

Wednesday Addams didn't mind losing to you.

Licking her lips, Wednesday moves her hand, grabbing the edge of your shirt at your stomach to anchor herself. She tugs, pulling you closer, and presses her lips against yours.

PART 8

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Eleven

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky deals with the fallout of Jake's bar kiss; Bob interrogates Jake and asks a big question

WC: 1.5K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You grabbed Natasha’s arm. “We have to go.” 

She frowned. “What’s going on?” 

You shook your head, trying not to alert anyone else. “I saw Jake in the hallway by the bathroom. Kissing some random girl.” 

Natasha’s brown eyes went hard. “I’ll kill him.” 

“Please, no,” you whispered. “Can I just stay at your place tonight?” 

“Of course.” 

“Also I’m going to piss my pants.” 

“Come with me.” She took your hand and led you out toward the back of the bar onto the deck. Your eyes automatically flocked to the place where you had stood the night you first met Jake. Instead, Nat pointed to the edge of the deck. “Pee on the sand.” 

You laughed. “You’re joking.” 

“It’s that or go back and risk seeing him again.” 

“I hate you,” you muttered, wobbling over to the edge of the deck and hiking up your dress, squatting down over the dunes. “This is a new low for me.” 

The door swung open and your mouth dropped in shock as Bradley barreled outside. “What’s going on?” 

“Oh my God!” you yelled, pee running down your leg. 

Bradley’s eyes went wide. “What the?” 

Natasha grabbed him and whirled him around until his back was to you. “Bradshaw, shut up. Y/N, finish your piss so we can get out of here.” 

“I hate my life,” you muttered. 

Bradley laughed. “So this is what girls do at bars? Pee outside.” 

“Only when Seresin is making out with random bitches by the bathroom,” Nat said. 

Bradley’s face pivoted into a frown. “What?” 

You stood up, stepping over the wet sand. “Let’s just not talk about it,” you whispered. “Can we go home now?” 

Natasha nodded. “Do you want to just leave?” 

“I need to say goodbye to Bobby or he’ll worry.” She nodded and you eased the side door open, shoving through the crowd to get to where Bob and Sena were sitting in the corner. “Bobby,” you whispered in his ear and he turned. “I’m not feeling great. Nat is going to take me home.” 

He frowned. “Do you want Jake to take you?” 

“I really don’t.” 

His eyes, ice blue, hardened. “What does that mean?” 

You sighed. “I just need to go home, it’s been a long night. I love you.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek then smiled at Sena and gave her a hug around the shoulders. “It was lovely meeting you.” 

“You too,” she said softly. The two of them watched as you walked out of the bar toward the front door. 

A moment later, Jake reappeared at the table. “Hey. Where did Y/N go?” 

Bob shook his head. “Home with Natasha.” 

“Why?” 

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, Hangman. Why?” 

Jake gulped. 

***

Natasha’s apartment was girlier than you had expected. Pink pillows on the guest bed, monogrammed towels in the bathroom, a gold french press in the kitchen. 

In the morning, you wandered into the kitchen, wet hair hanging down your back. “I didn’t peg you for a gingham bedspread.” 

She grimaced. “My mother decorated. Can you tell?” 

“Just a little.” You looked around. “It’s very … pink.” 

She sighed and sat down on the bar stool next to you. “Don’t remind me. Listen, about last night.” 

You shook your head. “Going to pretend it didn’t happen.” 

“And what about when he brings that girl home?” 

“I told him he could date,” you whispered. “I told him that he should.” 

“Are you on drugs?” 

“Yes, I’m high as a kite while five months pregnant.” 

Natasha took a sip of coffee. “I’m not saying it’s great but you might have to be the adult here.” 

“He’s thirty years old,” you countered. “He knows what he’s doing and he knows what he wants.” 

“What that man wants is you.” You turned to her, mouth hanging. Natasha nodded. “I mean it. I see the way he looks at you. He wants you, despite what he might do or say.” 

“Only because he thinks he has to.” 

“Jake Seresin has never listened to a word of advice that he didn’t want to,” she replied. “If he wants you, it’s because he really does, not because he thinks it’s the right thing to do.” Nat paused. “The only question is, do you want him, too?” 

***

The doorbell rang. Jake rushed out of his room, no shirt, wet hair dripping onto his shoulders and frowned. You had a key. If it was you, and he hoped it was, you would have let yourself in. 

Which could only mean it was someone else. And he didn’t want to see anyone else. He thought about ignoring it when there was a knock. Hard. 

He flung the door open. “What?” 

Bob stepped inside. “Hangman.” 

Jake frowned. “Floyd.” He paused. “She’s not here.” 

“I know she isn't. That’s why I���m here.” 

Jake felt his heart speed up. You were leaving. A part of him had dreaded it from the first moment you stepped through the doorway of the new apartment. That you would decide to leave him before the baby arrived, or even after. That you would see he wasn’t fit to be a dad. 

Bob paced in a tight circle before training his eyes on Jake. “I know you and I, we have a history. We don’t even really like each other. But you’re having a baby with my sister. My only sister. And she means more to me than anything.” Bob paused. “She means more to me than my own life. So trust me when I say, there’s nothing you could do that’s worse than hurting her in any way.” 

“I’m not going to–”

“You already have.” Bob cut him off. “This cat and mouse game or whatever the two of you have going on? It stops today. She’s hurt and you’re hurt and you’re both fucking stupid.” 

“I don’t know what your deal is Floyd, but–”

“Do you love her?” 

Jake stopped in his tracks. His eyes lifted to meet Bob’s. The two men stood in the middle of the living room, squared off. 

And then the door opened, and you appeared with Natasha right behind you. You frowned. “Bobby? What are you doing here?” 

His eyes lingered on Jake before crossing the room and looping his arm over your shoulder. “Came to get you, Duck. Thought we could grab some lunch.” 

“Um, sure.” You looked at Jake who had a pale sheen to his skin. Like he was going to be sick. “I’m going to change real quick. Wait for me by the car?” 

Bob nodded and slipped through the door. But not before you saw the glance he shared with Natasha. “Y/N? I’m going to head out, too.” 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you said softly and she smiled, filing out behind Bob. 

You closed the door to your room, emerging a few minutes later in a fresh dress, hair twisted up in a bun and a pair of sunglasses over your tired eyes. Jake sat on the couch, staring at his feet. 

You walked past him, grabbing your bag off the table where Natasha had placed it. As you opened the door, Jake’s voice floated across the room. 

“Are you coming back?”

It was quiet. Too quiet. Practically a thin whisper. You resisted the urge to turn around and look at him. 

“Yeah,” you said after a moment, one hand on the door handle. “But it would be great if you weren’t here when I did.” 

And with that, you pulled the door shut behind you, putting a wall up between you and Jake. 

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[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 4

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 4: | BABY BLUE |

You hadn’t seen or heard from Sarah or Rafe for almost a day, and it left a nagging feeling in your chest. Usually, Sarah would text you, even if just to check in, but this silence was unsettling. Now, you were getting ready to head over to the Cameron household for dinner. Your parents were close friends with theirs, so these dinners were a regular occurrence, but tonight felt different. There was an odd tension in the air, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was brewing beneath the surface.

As soon as you stepped through the front door of their grand house and exchanged polite greetings with everyone, Sarah was by your side, grabbing your hand and pulling you away before you could even settle in. “Come on, we need to talk,” she whispered urgently, leading you to a quiet corner of the house where you could have some privacy.

“Sarah, where the hell were you yesterday? You said we would go shopping!” you asked, your voice tinged with both frustration and concern. She’d left you hanging without a word, and you had spent most of the day wondering what could have happened.

Sarah’s face softened with guilt as she glanced down, her fingers fidgeting nervously. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that...” she began, her voice carrying genuine regret. “But something happened.”

Your curiosity was piqued immediately. “What?” you asked, leaning in, your mind racing with possibilities.

“I was at Chappell Hill with John B,” she admitted, almost too casually for the weight of her words.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “At Chappell Hill with John B?” You repeated her words, trying to see if you heard them right.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sarah confirmed, her expression brightening.

“What were you doing with him?” you asked, your confusion growing. John B was trouble, everyone knew that. You couldn’t imagine what Sarah would be doing with him.

“It’s not important,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “I just had to show him something.” Then her face lit up with a sudden, almost shy smile. “And we kissed.”

Her confession hit you like a tidal wave. “You kissed John B?” you exclaimed, the words escaping your mouth before you could temper your reaction.

“Shhh!” Sarah hushed you, laughing softly as she looked around to make sure no one overheard. You could see the happiness radiating from her, a glow that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“But you’re with Topper?” you said, more of a question than a statement. The last thing you wanted was for her to get hurt, tangled up in something messy.

“I know. I think I’ll break up with him,” Sarah said, her voice steady, though you could see the conflict in her eyes. “I like John B.”

You took a deep breath, considering her words. It was clear from the way she was looking at you, from the excitement in her voice, that this was real for her. “I mean, if he makes you happier, then you should do it,” you encouraged, knowing that whatever happened, you’d support her.

Before Sarah could respond, you both heard Rose calling from downstairs, letting you know that dinner was ready. You exchanged a quick look, Sarah’s eyes filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness about what she’d just shared. You offered her a reassuring smile before heading down together.

The dining room was elegant, filled with the soft glow of candlelight and the murmur of polite conversation. You found yourself seated between Sarah and Wheezie, with Rafe directly across from you. You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him, your mind flashing back to the last time you were alone together. His intense gaze met yours for a brief moment before you both quickly looked away, pretending as if there wasn’t a charged energy between you.

Your mother and Rose were chatting about the upcoming Midsummers event, the highlight of the season, and the conversation naturally turned to what everyone would be wearing. “So, what kind of dress will you wear?” Rose asked, her tone polite and curious.

“I got this beautiful baby blue dress...” you began, but as the words left your mouth, your eyes met Rafe’s again. His eyes gleamed with recognition, a knowing glint in their depths.

“I thought you would wear a purple dress,” Sarah said, her voice cutting through the moment, pulling your attention back to her.

“I couldn’t find any purple dress I liked,” you replied with a small shrug, but the truth was, the moment you saw Rafe’s suit hanging in his room, you knew you wanted to match him.

Wheezie’s voice chimed in, bright and mischievous. “You’ll match Rafe.”

You turned to her, pretending to be surprised. “I will?” you asked, feigning innocence even though you knew exactly what you were doing.

“The two of you will have to take a picture together,” your mother suggested, her voice filled with that parental enthusiasm for staged photographs and picture-perfect moments.

Rafe noticed Sarah’s eyes roll, the irritation clear on her face. He knew what she was thinking—that people were blind to who he really was. If they saw the darkness inside him, they’d never want you near him. But Rafe wasn’t willing to give you up just because of his past or because of who he was. Not when he was finally beginning to feel something real.

You glanced at Rafe, catching the smirk tugging at his lips, his eyes still locked on you. “I guess we will take a picture,” you said, challenging him with your gaze and waiting for his response.

“Yeah, sure,” Rafe replied, his voice calm but his eyes burning into you. He knew what you were doing, knew that your choice to wear blue was no accident. You were claiming a connection, one that no one else knew about.

Wheezie giggled. “You two will look like a couple.”

“Oh, please, they won’t.” Sarah snapped, unable to listen to it any longer. Her voice was sharper than she intended, and it hung awkwardly in the air.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his sister, irritation flaring. He hated how much she didn’t want you and him to be together. He knew it would tear you between your best friend and him, and that thought scared him more than he’d admit. What if you chose her?

“What’s so wrong if we do?” Rafe’s words slipped out before he could think them through, his frustration bubbling over.

Sarah’s eyes snapped to him, a fire blazing in them. “She’s my best friend.”

Rafe chuckled darkly, a bitterness in his tone that he didn’t bother to hide. “So?”

Did she really think that would stop him?

Sarah’s voice rose, her words coming out in a rush, exposing all the reasons she thought you shouldn’t be anywhere near him. “You would be a bad influence. You do drugs, Rafe, and you have anger issues.”

Rafe’s laugh was hollow, echoing in the silence that followed. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, the truth of her words hitting harder than he wanted to admit. Without another word, he pushed his chair back and stood up, his movements tense, barely controlled. He walked away, his back stiff, his footsteps heavy with the weight of everything unspoken.

You watched him go, a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew how much Sarah’s words had hurt him, and it hurt you too, because despite everything, despite who he was, you cared about him.

You watched Rafe’s retreating figure, your heart clenching as he disappeared down the hallway. Every instinct told you to get up, to go after him, to comfort him, to let him know that you understood, that you were on his side. But you couldn’t—not here, not now. Not with everyone watching, their eyes ready to pick apart every glance, every word exchanged. If you followed him, it would be like putting a spotlight on whatever was brewing between the two of you, exposing it to the harsh light of their judgment.

So, you stayed put, your fingers gripping the edge of the table as you tried to steady yourself. The lively conversation around you felt distant like it was happening in another room. Laughter, idle chatter—it all blurred together, meaningless against the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling inside you.

You pushed your food around your plate, your appetite gone. The delicious aroma of Rose’s carefully prepared meal didn’t register; all you could think about was the look on Rafe’s face before he left. Hurt. Anger. A flicker of something raw and vulnerable that he usually kept buried deep beneath the surface. It was rare to see him like that, stripped of his usual bravado and arrogance, and it tore at you in a way you couldn’t explain.

You felt Sarah shift beside you, her presence heavy with the unspoken tension between you. She was talking to your mother, laughing about something Wheezie had said, but you could feel her watching you out of the corner of her eye, checking for cracks in your composure. She didn’t know, couldn’t know, how badly her words had wounded Rafe, how they echoed things he probably told himself late at night when no one else was around.

You tried to focus on the conversation and tried to catch snippets here and there, but it was useless. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Rafe—his expression, the way he’d stalked off, shoulders tense, like he was carrying the weight of the world on them. You wondered what he was doing now. Was he in his room, trying to calm down? Or maybe he’d gone outside, away from everyone, where the shadows would offer some solace?

The thought of him being alone, stewing in his emotions, made your chest ache. You knew him well enough to know that his temper was a beast he wrestled with constantly. And tonight, it felt like that beast had been poked and prodded until it was ready to snap. He’d done his best to rein it in, to keep from blowing up in front of everyone, but you could see how close he was to losing it.

“Y/N, are you okay?” your mother’s voice cut through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. You looked up, realizing she’d been speaking to you. The concern in her eyes was clear, her brow furrowed as she studied your face.

You forced a smile, hoping it looked more genuine than it felt. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... tired, I guess.” It wasn’t a total lie. The emotional rollercoaster of the past few days had drained you and left you feeling frayed and on edge.

“If you’re not feeling well, you can head home,” Rose offered kindly, her eyes flicking to Sarah and then back to you. “We won’t be offended, dear.”

Sarah looked at you too, her eyes searching. “Yeah, you don’t look great. Maybe you should go.”

You shook your head, mustering up another weak smile. “No, it’s okay. I’m just not that hungry.” It was the truth. The food sat like lead on your plate, untouched except for the fork marks where you’d absently poked at it. You tried to think of something else to say, something to shift the focus off of you, but your mind was still tangled up in thoughts of Rafe.

Wheezie, oblivious to the undercurrents running through the room, started talking about some drama at school, and you let her voice wash over you, nodding at the right moments but not really hearing a word she said. Your eyes drifted to where Rafe had disappeared, the hallway that led to the back of the house, to his room, to the places he went when he needed to be alone.

You wondered what would happen if you just got up and walked after him. Would anyone follow? Would they understand? The thought of everyone’s eyes on you, of Sarah’s confusion turning to anger, of Rose and your parents exchanging worried looks—it kept you rooted in place. You couldn’t risk it. Not now. Not until you and Rafe had figured out what this was, what you were.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur, your responses automatic, your laughter forced. When the meal finally came to an end, you felt like you could finally breathe again. Plates were cleared, conversations shifted to lighter topics, and you managed to make your excuses, saying you needed some air.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air hit your face, a welcome relief from the stifling tension inside. You walked to the edge of the porch, leaning against the railing, staring out at the darkened landscape. The sky was dotted with stars, and the distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore was almost soothing.

You let out a long breath, your shoulders slumping as you tried to shake off the weight pressing down on you. Part of you wanted to go find Rafe, to talk to him, to let him know that you were there, that you understood. But another part—the part that was scared of what this meant, of what Sarah would think, of what you were getting yourself into—kept you rooted in place.

For now, all you could do was wait. Wait and hope that, somehow, you and Rafe could figure this out without everything falling apart.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @dominicfikexoxo @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Part 8: COMMITMENT

A/N: HIIII just want to thank everyone who has been showing support and love!!! its appreciated and I hope you guys are liking the story! OK BYEEE⭐️💜💜🩷🩵💛

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

7.3k words

The smell of pancakes and the sizzling sound of bacon pulled me from sleep, my eyes fluttering open to the soft light filtering through the curtains. The bed beside me was empty, though the imprint of Logan's body was still visible on the sheets. I was naked, the cool air brushing against my skin, and that's when the memories of last night came rushing back, overwhelming my senses.

My heart raced as I lay there, the weight of what had happened settling in. The intensity of our night together, the raw passion we had shared—had it been a mistake? A swirl of doubt crept into my mind. What if I had ruined everything between us? What if he had only wanted me in the heat of the moment, and now that it was over, he would return to his moody, distant self? The thought gnawed at me, making my chest tighten with fear.

But before I could spiral further into my thoughts, Logan walked in, carrying a plate in his hand. The sight of him caught me off guard—he looked different. His usual brooding expression was replaced by something lighter, almost unrecognizable. There was a softness in his eyes, a brightness that made my breath hitch.

"Good morning," he said, his voice warm and chipper, a tone I wasn't used to hearing from him. "How did you sleep?"

I blinked, still processing the change in him. "Good morning. I slept... fine. How did you sleep?" My voice was hesitant, unsure of how to navigate this new version of him as he handed me the plate, neatly arranged with two pieces of bacon and a perfectly golden pancake.

"I slept better than ever," he replied with a smile—an actual smile—that I had never seen on his face before. It was genuine, filled with a contentment that sent a wave of warmth through me.

I studied him for a moment, my heart still beating a little too fast. This was Logan, but different—a side of him I had only glimpsed before. And as I looked into his eyes, all the doubts and fears that had been swirling in my mind began to fade. He wasn't distant, he wasn't moody—he was here, fully present, and there was something in his gaze that told me last night hadn't been just a moment of passion for him. It had meant something more.

I bit my lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as I looked down at the plate. "You made me breakfast?" I asked, a bit of surprise in my voice.

"Of course," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. "After last night... I wanted to make sure you woke up to something good."

His touch was gentle, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made my heart swell. The Logan I knew was still there—the rough, gruff exterior—but now there was something else, something softer and more vulnerable that he was letting me see. And it wasn't just about the sex; it was about him opening up to me in a way he hadn't before.

"I... I was worried," I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I thought maybe... maybe you'd regret it."

Logan's expression softened even more, his hand still lingering on my cheek. "Regret it? Violet, I've wanted this for a long time. I was just too damn scared to admit it to myself. But after last night... there's no going back. I don't want to go back to pretending I don't feel anything."

His words sent a rush of relief through me, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "I don't want to go back either," I confessed, the last of my fears melting away."Good," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Because you mean too much to me, Violet. I don't want to lose what we have. I want more."

The sincerity in his eyes, the way he was looking at me—it was everything I hadn't dared to hope for. I smiled, a real smile this time, as I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I want more too, Logan."

As we pulled back, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us in this moment of quiet understanding. Whatever doubts or fears I had woken up with had disappeared, replaced by a certainty that we were on the same page—moving forward together. Logan gave me another smile, that rare, genuine one that made my heart flutter, and he picked up the fork, offering me the first bite of the pancake. "Here," he said with a grin, "you've got to try this. I make a mean pancake."

I laughed softly, feeling lighter than I had in a long time as I accepted the bite. "I can't wait to see what else you've got up your sleeve, Lo."

He chuckled, his hand resting on my knee as he watched me eat. "Oh, you have no idea, V." And with that, the day began—simple, easy, and filled with a warmth that came from knowing that whatever happened next, we were in this together. 

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Today, we decided it was time to go bed shopping. After last night, it was clear that Logan's bed had seen its final days, but instead of just replacing it, I had a different idea. We barely fit in my bed as we slept, and the thought of having more space—of truly sharing a bed that was ours—felt right. So, we decided to buy a bigger bed for my room and move my current bed into Logan's room. It was a practical solution, but it also felt like a step forward in whatever this thing between us was becoming.

I hadn't been to Ikea in ages, and when I suggested it, Logan gave me a curious look, clearly unfamiliar with the place. I couldn't believe it. "I can't believe you've never been to Ikea. Do you not have them in your universe?" I teased as we got into the taxi, the city's hustle and bustle surrounding us.

He chuckled, that low, gravelly sound that always sent a warm shiver through me. "No, we do. I just never had the need to go into one." As he spoke, he draped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. It was such a simple gesture, but it made my heart skip a beat. The Logan I knew was tough, stoic, but these little moments of affection were starting to become more common, and I couldn't help but cherish them.

"Well, you're in for a treat," I said with a grin, leaning into his embrace. "Ikea is... an experience."He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my enthusiasm. "An experience, huh? Guess I'll have to see what all the fuss is about."

As the taxi wound its way through the streets, I found myself stealing glances at Logan, still trying to wrap my head around the changes between us. The man who had once been so closed off was now sitting beside me, casually holding me close, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was—maybe this was the new normal for us. The thought filled me with a warmth I hadn't expected, a quiet contentment that settled deep in my chest.

When we arrived at Ikea, Logan's eyes widened slightly at the sheer size of the place. "This place is huge," he muttered, his grip on my shoulder tightening just a bit, as if he wasn't quite sure what to expect.

I laughed softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, it's pretty overwhelming at first, but don't worry—I'll guide you through it. Just stick with me, and you'll be fine."

As we stepped inside, I could see Logan's eyes taking in everything—the rows of furniture, the bright displays, the odd combination of practicality and chaos that defined Ikea. It was all so new to him, and it made me smile, watching him experience it for the first time. There was something almost endearing about the way he tried to act nonchalant, even as I could tell he was secretly intrigued.

"So, what's first?" he asked, glancing down at me with that half-smirk that always made my heart skip a beat.

"First, we need to find the bedroom section," I said, pulling him toward the signs that pointed us in the right direction. "And then, we'll find the perfect bed for us."

"Perfect bed, huh?" Logan echoed, a teasing note in his voice as he followed me through the winding aisles. "Does it come with guarantees? Like, won't break under... certain conditions?"

I felt my cheeks flush at the memory of last night, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Well, maybe we should get one with a sturdier frame this time," I teased back, nudging him with my elbow. "Just in case."

Logan chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Yeah, probably a good idea."

As we made our way through the showroom, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. This—shopping for a bed together, teasing each other about last night—felt right. It wasn't just about the bed; it was about us, about building something together, even if it was just a piece of furniture. And as I looked up at Logan, who was now seriously inspecting a bed frame with a thoughtful expression, I realized that I was ready for this, for whatever came next.

We wandered through the maze of showrooms, testing out different beds and debating the merits of each one. But when we finally found the bed, I knew it was perfect. The frame was made of rich, dark wood with a sleek, modern design that fit perfectly with the aesthetic of my room. It had a sturdy build that immediately made me feel more confident that it could handle whatever Logan and I might throw at it.

The size was a significant upgrade too—a queen, much larger than the full-sized bed I had before. It felt right, like it could finally be the kind of bed where Logan and I could stretch out without feeling cramped. I could already picture it in my room, the centerpiece of a space that was evolving, just like our relationship.

"Looks like it's a winner," Logan said, running his hand over the smooth wood of the headboard. His approval brought a smile to my face; it felt like we were making this choice together, as a team.

With the bed frame decided, I turned my attention to the bedding. I couldn't resist picking out a new comforter—a soft, plush pink one that added a touch of warmth and femininity to the room. For the sheets, I went with a set of light blue ones adorned with delicate floral patterns. They were simple yet elegant, the perfect complement to the dark wood of the bed frame.

As we made our way to the checkout, the excitement of our purchase was momentarily overshadowed by a realization—how were we going to get all of this home? The bed frame and mattress were far too large to fit in a taxi, and there was no way we could carry them ourselves. I glanced at Logan, who was eyeing the flat-packed boxes with a slight frown. "I think we might have a problem," I said, biting my lip.

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, we didn't exactly think this through."

I pulled out my phone and quickly scrolled through my contacts until I found Wade's number. He was always up for a favor, especially if it involved something out of the ordinary. I hit the call button and waited as it rang.

"Hey, Wade," I said when he picked up. "Logan and I are at Ikea, and we kind of... underestimated the size of what we bought. We need a truck. Any chance you could help us out?"

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a laugh. "Ikea, huh? Never pegged you two as the domestic type. But sure, I'm in. I'll bring a rental truck your way. You owe me, though. This is prime time I could be spending doing absolutely nothing."

I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Wade. I owe you one."

After I hung up, I turned to Logan, who was watching me with a raised eyebrow. "Wade's on his way with a rental truck," I said, slipping my phone back into my pocket.

Logan grinned, a look of amusement in his eyes. "Never thought I'd be relying on Wade for a furniture move, but here we are."

I laughed, the tension from earlier dissolving into the comfortable banter that had always come so naturally between us. "I think we might be in for some commentary from him when he gets here," I said, already anticipating the jokes Wade would undoubtedly make about us buying a bed together.

Logan shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Let him say what he wants. We'll have our bed, and that's all that matters."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. He was right—this was our bed, our space, and nothing else really mattered. We had found something that was perfect for us, and soon, we'd be taking it home to start this next chapter together. We didn't have to wait long before Wade pulled up in the rental truck, parking with a screech that turned heads. He hopped out with that familiar mischievous grin, clearly up to no good.

"Alright, lovebirds! What's the deal? You two finally got busy and broke the bed, huh?" Wade said, eyeing the boxes with a knowing smirk.

Logan's jaw tightened, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Wade, just shut the fuck up and open the door," he growled, though a hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

But Wade was relentless. "Oh, come on, Wolvie! You should be proud—you broke a bed! I bet it was like a scene out of '50 Shades of Wolverine.'" He winked at me. "Vi, need any aftercare? I've got magic hands."

"Wade," I sighed, rolling my eyes, "just open the truck, okay?"

Wade finally relented, though not without more commentary as we loaded the boxes. "Seriously, though, next time, take it easy on the furniture. Or, you know, call me for tips. I'm here to help!"

Logan shook his head, clearly done with Wade's antics. "Get in the truck before I lose my shit," he muttered, pulling me close as we climbed in.

As Wade drove off, still grinning, Logan leaned in and whispered, "Next time, we're taping his mouth shut."

I laughed, leaning into him. "Deal."

And with that, we headed home, Wade's endless jokes fading into the background as I focused on Logan's warmth beside me, feeling content in this new chapter together.

 ⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

When we got home, I decided to make things easier by using my telekinesis to help the boys bring the furniture into the apartment. The boxes floated effortlessly through the air, guided by my hands, while Logan and Wade looked on—Wade, of course, with a mix of amusement and awe.

"Show off," Wade teased, though I could tell he was grateful not to have to carry anything heavy. 

Once everything was inside, Wade headed out to return the truck to one of his buddies, leaving Logan and me alone in the apartment. We exchanged a glance, a shared sense of accomplishment as we looked at the neatly stacked boxes.

"Ready to build a bed?" I asked, grinning at Logan. 

"Let's do it," he replied with a smirk.

We got to work, unpacking the bed frame and setting up the pieces in my room. It was a surprisingly smooth process, considering how easily we'd gotten distracted the last time we were in here. While Logan focused on assembling the frame, I slipped out to throw the new sheets into the wash, humming to myself as I imagined how everything would come together. By the time I returned, Logan had already made good progress. I jumped in to help, and soon enough, the frame was complete. We unboxed the mattress, letting it expand in the middle of the room while the sheets finished washing. It was all coming together, a tangible symbol of the new phase in our relationship.

As we stood back to admire our handiwork, I felt a sense of satisfaction settle over me. We had done this together, built something that was ours. And as simple as it might seem, it felt like a big step forward.

Logan caught my eye, a small smile playing on his lips. "Looks good," he said, his voice warm."Yeah," I agreed, smiling back. "It really does."

For lunch, we decided to do something a little different—a picnic. I guess you could call it our first date, though it was low-key enough that I wasn't entirely sure if it counted. Still, the idea of spending time with Logan, just the two of us, felt right.

I packed a simple meal: sandwiches, some fruit, water, and a few snacks. We left the apartment and strolled to the park just a block away. The weather was perfect—sunny with a slight breeze that cooled the air around us, making it one of those days where everything seemed just a little brighter.

When we arrived at the park, it was fairly quiet, with only a few people scattered around. We found a nice spot under a large tree, away from everyone else, where the shade provided a cool retreat from the sun. Logan spread out the blanket on the grass, smoothing it down before gesturing for me to sit.

As we settled down, I couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate the simplicity of it all. It wasn't extravagant, it wasn't planned down to the last detail—it was just us, enjoying each other's company in a way that felt so natural. 

"This is nice," Logan said, leaning back on his hands and glancing around the park."Yeah," I agreed, pulling out the food. "It really is."

We ate in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the peaceful surroundings. The breeze rustled the leaves above us, casting dappled shadows on the blanket, and the sun warmed our skin just enough to be soothing.

As I sat there, eating next to Logan and enjoying the peaceful moment, a thought crept into my mind. We'd been spending so much time together lately, getting closer in ways I hadn't anticipated, but there was still so much we hadn't talked about—things that felt important. We'd never really delved into the serious stuff, like where he came from and how his life here was different from the one he'd known before. 

As I chewed on my sandwich, my thoughts began to drift to those unspoken topics, wondering what his life had been like before he ended up in this world. But then, as if my mind was pulling up the memories on cue, Wade's voice crept in, reminding me of a conversation we'd had not too long ago.

It had been one of those moments when Wade was more serious than usual, a rare occurrence that made me pay attention. He'd mentioned Jean—a name that held weight in Logan's past, a name that was always spoken with a mix of reverence and regret. Wade had told me a little about her, enough to make me understand that she was someone who had meant a great deal to Logan, someone who had left a deep scar.

I hadn't pressed Logan about Jean, sensing that it was a wound still too raw to poke at. But now, sitting beside him in this quiet park, I couldn't help but wonder how much of his past was still affecting him, still holding him back from fully embracing whatever it was we were building together.

Did he think about her often? Did he compare me to her? The thoughts were unsettling, making me feel a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. Part of me wanted to ask, to open up that line of conversation and finally get the answers to the questions that had been lingering in the back of my mind. But another part of me hesitated, unsure if now was the right time—or if I was ready to hear what he might say.

Logan looked over at me, clearly trying to get my attention, but I was too lost in my thoughts to notice. The memories of what Wade had told me about Jean swirled in my mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. I could feel the weight of her name, the impact she must have had on Logan, and it gnawed at me in a way I hadn't expected.

Without fully realizing it, I found myself blurting out, "Who's Jean?"The question hung in the air between us, heavy and unplanned. Logan's relaxed demeanor shifted immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

"How do you know about her?" he asked, his voice low, laced with a mix of caution and surprise.

I hesitated, realizing that I had just stumbled into territory I wasn't sure I was ready to navigate. But there was no turning back now. I took a deep breath and decided to be honest. 

"The first night you spent at my apartment... when you stabbed me— you were having that nightmare—I woke you up because you were yelling her name."

Logan's expression darkened, and for a moment, I regretted bringing it up. His eyes, which had been soft and warm just minutes ago, were now clouded with a storm of emotions. He looked away, staring off into the distance as if trying to collect his thoughts, or maybe just trying to escape from them. I waited, unsure of what to say, unsure if I should have even asked. But I couldn't take it back now. I could only hope that he would trust me enough to open up, to let me in, even if it was just a little.

After what felt like an eternity, Logan finally spoke, his voice rough and tinged with pain. "Jean... she was someone important to me. Someone I cared about. But I couldn't save her. I tried, but... I failed."He paused, his fists clenching and unclenching as if he was grappling with memories too painful to fully confront. 

"I think about her every day. About what I could have done differently, about how things might have been if I'd been stronger, better. It's something that never really goes away."

I felt a pang of sadness for him, understanding now that the scars he carried weren't just physical—they ran much deeper, rooted in a loss that still haunted him. 

"Logan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"No," he interrupted, his gaze shifting back to me, softer now, but still guarded.

 "It's okay. You deserve to know. I've been trying to move on, to let go of the past, but it's not easy. Jean... she was everything to me, and losing her... it broke something inside me."His words were raw, filled with a vulnerability that I wasn't sure he had ever shown anyone before. 

It made my heart ache for him, for the weight he carried alone for so long."I'm not her," I said quietly, not as a statement of fact, but as an acknowledgment of the difference between us, and the space she still occupied in his heart.

Logan shook his head slightly, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of sorrow and something else—something that felt like hope.

 "I know you're not. And that's a good thing, Violet. You're you. And that's... more than enough."His words, simple as they were, held a depth of emotion that made me realize how much this moment meant to him. 

It wasn't just about Jean—it was about the possibility of healing, of moving forward, and maybe even finding a way to open his heart again. I reached out, placing my hand on his, offering what little comfort I could. 

"You don't have to carry it all alone, Logan. I'm here. And whatever you're going through, whatever you need... I'm here." Logan's grip tightened on my hand, his eyes searching mine as if he was trying to find something—maybe reassurance, maybe just a reason to believe that he could finally let go of the past.  

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

 "Well, now that we talked about me, talk about you. Where you came from and tell me how you met that one guy Strucker." He asked me as he caressed my hand.

I took a deep breath, settling next to him, our hands still intertwined. "My grandparents died when I was 19. I was so mad at everyone because they died just like my parents, in a car crash. It wasn't fair; I felt like I was cursed, and I didn't know what to do. So, I started drinking. I didn't really like it at first, but the burn in my throat was addictive, and the feeling of getting drunk was overwhelming—but not as overwhelming as their death. So I kept drinking and doing nothing but partying."

I took another breath, the memories clearly painful. "I became a regular at this one pub in Oregon. After one night of drinking, I was walking home when I got kidnapped. That was Strucker. He experimented on me, and that's how I got my powers—by touching a gem that was in that scepter I showed you guys yesterday. I was with him for a year, training in hand-to-hand combat, and then I eventually started killing."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I recounted my story to Logan. He placed a comforting hand on my back, rubbing in gentle circles to calm me down.

"They used a machine to control me, and I couldn't do anything about it. I could feel their pain as I killed them, and it still haunts me when I'm alone with my thoughts. You know, I don't need to work, but it's the only thing that keeps my mind busy, or else I spiral. I eventually escaped and moved to a different state," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. 

"But they found me, so I moved again. And again, and again, and again... until I moved here. I've been here for about seven years now." I paused, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "After I didn't sense them trying to find me anymore, I got a job and an apartment. I tried to build a life, something normal."

I glanced at Logan, his eyes never leaving mine, offering silent support.

"Then I met Wade and Vanessa... and then I met you," I added, my voice softening as I looked into his eyes, feeling a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

In that moment, he gently cupped my face, his touch warm and comforting. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against mine. It was a tender, reassuring kiss that spoke of unspoken promises. When he pulled back, there was a small, genuine smile on his face.

"I'm never going to let anyone hurt you again. Never," he said, his voice firm but filled with a quiet intensity that made my heart swell.

I looked at him, feeling a deep sense of safety and comfort that I hadn't felt in a long time. Without saying anything, I snuggled up next to him, resting my head against his chest. We sat there in silence, the weight of our shared pasts easing as we simply held each other, finding solace in the quiet connection between us.

 ⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

As Logan was in the shower, I heard a quick knock at the door—a knock I immediately recognized. Without hesitation, I walked over and opened it, already knowing who would be on the other side.

"Hi, Wade," I greeted him with a smile.

Wade stood there, a rare serious expression on his face, which was unusual enough to catch my attention. "Hey, can we talk?" he asked, his tone more subdued than usual.

"Sure, come in," I said, stepping aside to let him enter.

We moved over to the couch, and as we sat down, I couldn't help but notice the way he was fidgeting, clearly anxious about something. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced with a look of genuine concern, which only made me more curious.

"What is it?" I asked, leaning in slightly, trying to read his expression.

Wade took a deep breath, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before he blurted out, "I'm going to propose to Vanessa."

For a second, I just stared at him, processing his words. But then, the realization hit me, and I couldn't contain my excitement. I jumped up from the couch and threw my arms around him in a tight hug. "Oh my God, Wade! I'm so happy for you!"

Wade chuckled, a bit of his usual humor returning as he hugged me back. "You think she'll say yes?" he asked, pulling back slightly to look at me, the vulnerability in his eyes clear.

"Of course she will!" I said, my voice full of certainty. "You're an amazing guy, Wade, and she loves you so much. She's going to be over the moon."

Wade's serious expression softened, a small smile creeping onto his face. "I hope so. I just... I want to make sure I do it right, you know?"

I nodded, still smiling. "You will. Just be yourself, Wade. That's the guy she fell in love with, and that's who she's going to say yes to."

Wade let out a breath he'd been holding, his shoulders relaxing a little. "Thanks, Vi. That means a lot coming from you."

"Anytime," I replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "And if you need any help planning, you know I'm here for you."

Wade grinned, some of his usual mischief returning to his eyes. "I might take you up on that. I've got some ideas, but I could use a little... finessing."

We both laughed, the moment of seriousness giving way to the usual easy camaraderie between us. It felt good to be part of something so special, to see Wade genuinely happy and excited about the future. And I knew, without a doubt, that Vanessa was going to be just as thrilled as I was.

Wade's grin widened, that familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "So, how about you come with me tomorrow to pick out the ring?" he suggested, his tone slipping back into its usual witty, playful demeanor. "I could really use a woman's advice. You know, make sure I don't pick out something completely awful."

I laughed, shaking my head at him. "Sure, Wade. I'd love to help. But honestly, I don't think you could mess this up even if you tried."

"Oh, you'd be surprised at my ability to screw things up," he quipped, giving me a mock-serious look before breaking into a smile. "But seriously, I appreciate it, Vi. It means a lot."

"Anything for you, Wade," I replied with a warm smile. "We'll find the perfect ring for Vanessa, I promise."

"Perfect," Wade said, clapping his hands together, clearly pleased. "I'll pick you up bright and early. We've got some serious ring shopping to do."

"Looking forward to it," I said, still smiling as I watched Wade's excitement bubble over.

Wade stood up, giving me one last playful wink before heading for the door. "Alright, I'm off. See you tomorrow, partner in crime."

"See you tomorrow," I called after him, shaking my head fondly as he left.

As the door closed behind him, I couldn't help but feel a warm glow in my chest. Wade was finally going to take that next step with Vanessa, and I was honored to be a part of it. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day, and I couldn't wait to help him find the perfect ring for the woman he loved.

As Logan stepped out of the shower, I was already in the kitchen, gathering ingredients for dinner. I had decided to try something new—a Mexican dish I found online: enchiladas. The idea of making something different excited me, and I hoped Logan would enjoy it too.

The aroma of spices began to fill the kitchen as I sautéed onions and spices, the sizzle of the pan comforting in its familiarity. I glanced over my shoulder as Logan walked in, his hair still damp from the shower, dressed in his usual casual attire. He walked behind me and put his hands around my waist as he gave me a kiss on my cheek.

"Hey," I greeted him with a smile, stirring the mixture in the pan. "I'm trying my hand at enchiladas tonight. Found the recipe online and thought it might be fun."

Logan leaned closer over my shoulder as he gaze softening as he watched me cook. "Smells good already," he said, his voice a low rumble.

"Let's hope it tastes as good as it smells," I replied with a grin, feeling a little flutter in my chest at the way he was touching me.

As I continued to cook, Logan moved to help, setting the table and pouring us both a drink. It had become a sort of unspoken routine between us—me cooking, him helping with the little things. It was simple, domestic even, but it made me feel grounded, like we were building something together, even if neither of us said it out loud.

By the time the enchiladas were ready, the kitchen was filled with a rich, savory aroma that made my stomach growl in anticipation. I carefully placed the baking dish on the table, serving up portions for both of us.

"Moment of truth," I said with a smile, handing Logan his plate.

He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before looking up at me with a nod of approval. "You've outdone yourself this time," he said, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. "Glad you like it. It's nice to try something different."

We ate in comfortable silence, the warmth of the meal and the quiet companionship between us making the evening feel complete. As the night went on, I realized that these moments, simple as they were, had become something I cherished deeply.

 ⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

The next day arrived, and I was in the middle of getting ready to go to the jewelry store with Wade. As I carefully applied my makeup, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Can you believe that Wade and Vanessa are getting married?" I said, my voice carrying the thrill of the moment as I glanced at Logan, who was lounging nearby.

Logan chuckled, his usual laid-back demeanor evident. "We don't even know if she's going to say yes," he replied, a teasing tone in his voice.

I shot him a playful look, pausing with my mascara wand in hand. "Oh, come on. You know she's going to say yes. They're perfect for each other."

Logan's smile softened, and he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, they are," he admitted, his tone more sincere. "Wade's lucky to have her."

"And she's lucky to have him," I added, finishing up my makeup and stepping back to admire my reflection. "I just hope I can help him pick out the perfect ring."

Logan watched me with a thoughtful expression, his eyes following my movements. "You'll do fine. You've got good taste."

I smiled at him through the mirror, feeling a warmth in my chest at his words. "Thanks, Logan. I just want it to be special for them, you know?"

He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "I know. And it will be."

With a final touch of lipstick, I turned to face him, my excitement bubbling up again. "Alright, I'm ready. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," Logan said, his voice holding a note of affection that made my heart skip a beat.

I said my goodbye with a kiss on his soft lips and I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, ready to help Wade take the next big step in his relationship with Vanessa.

I knocked on Wade's door, waiting for him to answer. When the door finally swung open, there he was, dressed in casual clothes, but the real kicker was the ridiculous toupee perched on his head, looking like it had been swiped from the clearance bin of a costume shop.

I couldn't help but snort, raising an eyebrow as I took in his appearance. "Nice hair," I said, barely able to keep a straight face.

Wade beamed, running a hand over the toupee like it was the finest wig money could buy. "Thanks! I thought I'd class it up today. You know, gotta look my best when I'm about to drop some serious cash on a rock. The hair really seals the deal, don't you think?"

I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. "You're something else, Wade. But if that thing scares off the jeweler, you're on your own."

He gave me a mock offended look, clutching his chest. "Oh, ye of little faith! This toupee screams 'man with excellent taste.' Vanessa's going to swoon when she sees the ring I pick with this baby on my head."

"Uh-huh," I replied, still grinning. "Ready to go find that ring, Mr. Sophisticated?"

"Born ready," Wade shot back, giving me a conspiratorial wink. "Let's go make Vanessa the happiest woman alive—and let's face it, she already is, but this is just the cherry on top of the Wade sundae."

I rolled my eyes, laughing as he linked his arm through mine. "You're such an idiot."

"And that's why you keep me around!" Wade declared, puffing out his chest as we headed down the hallway. "Now, let's get to that jewelry store before this toupee takes on a life of its own."

We arrived at the jewelry store, the bell above the door chiming softly as we stepped inside. The place was gleaming with all sorts of shiny, expensive things—rows upon rows of sparkling rings, necklaces, and earrings displayed under the bright lights. Wade immediately gravitated toward the rings, his eyes scanning the cases with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

"Alright, where's the ring that says 'I'm the luckiest guy in the world and you'd be crazy to say no'?" Wade muttered to himself as he leaned over one of the cases, his brow furrowed in concentration.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I followed him. "You've got this, Wade. Just find something that screams 'Vanessa.'"

Wade nodded, but he was clearly feeling the pressure. His eyes darted from one ring to the next, his usual confidence wavering for a moment. "What if I pick the wrong one? What if she doesn't like it? What if she takes one look at it and thinks, 'Wow, Wade's lost his touch'?"

I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know her better than anyone. Trust your gut—and maybe that little voice in your head that's always telling you to be just a tad less ridiculous."Wade flashed a quick grin, the tension easing slightly. "Yeah, you're right. Less ridiculous... for a few minutes, at least."

We continued browsing, with Wade picking up rings and then putting them back down just as quickly, muttering things like, "Too sparkly," "Not sparkly enough," and "Is this thing made of tinfoil?" under his breath.

Finally, his eyes landed on a ring—a simple but elegant design with a single, dazzling diamond in the center, flanked by smaller stones that caught the light beautifully. He paused, staring at it for a long moment, and I could see something click in his expression.

"This one," he said quietly, almost to himself. "This is it. It's perfect."

I looked at the ring and then back at Wade, who was surprisingly serious for once. "It's beautiful, Wade. I think Vanessa's going to love it."

He nodded, a small, genuine smile creeping onto his face. "Yeah... yeah, I think so too."

As we walked back to Wade's apartment, the ring safely tucked away in a little velvet box, I could feel a sense of excitement bubbling up between us. Wade was practically buzzing with nervous energy, and I was thrilled to be a part of this moment for him and Vanessa. The conversation flowed easily, mostly about how Wade was going to propose and all the ridiculous scenarios he'd imagined in his head.

But as we turned the corner, I hesitated, my thoughts drifting to the conversation I had with Logan recently. It was something I hadn't told anyone yet, but it felt right to share it with Wade now, especially since we were talking about serious things.

"Wade," I started, glancing over at him as we walked, "there's something I need to tell you."

He looked at me, curiosity piqued. "Uh-oh, this sounds serious. Did you finally break down and tell Logan that you think his hair's better when it's all wild and Wolverine-y?"

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "No, not that. But... I did talk to him about Jean."

Wade's playful expression shifted to something more thoughtful. "Oh... Jean. Ballsy.""Yeah," I nodded, my tone softening. "He opened up about her, about what happened. It was... intense. I think it's why he's been so distant, you know? He's carrying a lot of guilt over it."

Wade sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that's Logan for you. The guy's got enough guilt to fill a library, and he's always trying to handle it on his own. But you got him to talk about it? That's big."

"I know," I said quietly. "He's been through so much, and I just wanted him to know that he doesn't have to go through it alone. I think it helped... a little."

Wade gave me a sideways glance, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "You're good for him, you know that? The grumpy old wolf needs someone like you to keep him from going off the deep end."

I smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through me at Wade's words. "I'm just trying to be there for him, like he's been there for me."

Wade nodded, his tone becoming more serious. "Yeah, well, just don't let him push you away too much. Logan's got this bad habit of thinking he's gotta do everything on his own, but we both know that's a load of crap. Keep poking at him, and eventually, he'll get it through that thick skull of his."

I chuckled at that. "I'll do my best, Wade."

As we reached his apartment building, Wade stopped and turned to me, his expression sincere. 

"Thanks for telling me, Vi. And for, you know, looking out for him."

"Of course," I said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "We're all in this together, right?"

Wade grinned, the playful glint returning to his eyes. "Damn right. Now let's get back inside before Logan realizes we've been talking about him and goes all 'brooding hero' on us."

I laughed at his remark, but then a thought suddenly struck me. "Wait, when are you going to propose to Vanessa?" I asked, turning to face him.

Wade flashed a grin, looking almost too pleased with himself. "Tonight," he said, his voice full of excitement.

"Tonight?" I echoed, feeling a mix of surprise and anticipation. "Do you have everything planned? What exactly are you planning to do?"

Wade wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. "Oh, I've got it all planned out. Trust me, it's going to be epic. Picture this: a romantic dinner, candles, roses, the works. And then, just when she thinks it's all just a nice evening, bam—I drop to one knee, whip out the ring, and hit her with the most charming proposal this side of a rom-com."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Wow, Wade, that actually sounds... really sweet."

He gave a dramatic bow. "Why, thank you. I like to keep people on their toes, you know? Can't be all jokes and explosions all the time. Gotta throw in some romance to keep things interesting."I laughed again, shaking my head at him. "Well, I'm sure she's going to love it. Just make sure you don't trip over your own feet when you're down on one knee."

Wade placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. "Please, cupcake, I'm as graceful as a swan. A swan with a couple of swords and a very big mouth."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Well, good luck, Wade. I'm really happy for you two." "Thanks, Vi," he said, his grin softening into something more genuine. "It means a lot. And don't worry—I'll make sure this is a night Vanessa will never forget."

I laughed as I waved to him while I walked to my door, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me.

Part 9: Unexpected coincidence

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: The End

A/N: My heart, y'all. I can't believe this is over. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this last chapter for Elvis and Vivian. If there's enough demand, I'll write more of them happily ever after, but otherwise, here it is: the end. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments. I love to hear from you!

Need to read the rest? Masterlist here.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! Kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m&f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~3k

"Are you?!"

"Yes."

******

Sonny's shoulders slump as he sinks into a chair. Vivian's heart breaks for him, but she just couldn't lie to him anymore. It's not fair to anyone involved for her to keep pretending like there's nothing between her and Elvis.

"I knew it. Jerry told me about the wedding and I just kept hoping it was him being, well, him. But no, this has been going on for a lot longer than just that time, hasn't it?"

"No, we've never really been anything-"

"But that's what you've wanted. You love him and you always have." He pinches the bridge of his nose and Vivian swallows deeply. He's right. "I can't fight him. I won't win. Not if you're in love with him."

Sonny looks up at her with his eyes glossy and wet. He takes her hand and kisses the back of it.

"Sonny, I-"

"No. It's okay, sugar. I love you too much to keep you miserable. If you want him, you should be with him." She sits on the floor in front of him and leans on his knee.

"I'm not miserable."

"No, but you would be eventually. Especially if his marriage is over. It's cruel for me to make you stay, knowing what I know now."

"Sonny... I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. You can't help who you love. Can I ask one thing, though?"

"Anything." Vivian looks up at him sadly. Some part of her does care for him. Just not enough. Not more than she loves Elvis.

"I'm gonna go for a drive for a few hours. When I get back here, please be gone." She nods slowly.

"Okay. I can do that."

"Thank you." He whispers and then leans forward, kissing her forehead. Then, he stands up and walks towards the door. When he gets there he turns. "I don't want you to feel bad for me. I'll be alright. Just go be happy."

She nods again as he walks through the door. The tears come hot and fast for a while as she sits there in the rubble of her ruined marriage. After a while, she stops, though, and there's only one thing on her mind.

Elvis.

She jumps up and starts to pack.

******

Elvis is sitting in the dark in the TV room. All three TVs are going, but he has no idea what's on any of them. His mind is racing. How did he get here? He's alone, his own wife gone to another man as his heart longs for a married woman. What a mess.

His mind drifts back to the night he met Vivian. She was so beautiful reading the book of French poetry in the corner at his party. He should've whisked her away from Charlie that night. He should've broken up with Anita the second he met her and taken her in his arms to be his forever that afternoon when he found her crying at the cafe.

And all the movie years. How stupid was he to value his string of flings over her? How easy it would've been to leave them all in the dust and marry her in 1962.

And the conversation they started should've finished with them together. Why did he abandon her for Ann? Yes, he loved Ann, but what was she compared to his future with Viv?

And WHY, WHY did he choose Priscilla?! He looks at the corner of the couch where Viv had laid that night they made love for the first time. It's like a movie with the scene of her on his porch, arms full of liquor bottles, a soft smile on her lips. Then it cuts to her gently shaving his face, an ultimate gesture of love and service. And the kiss, his mouth on her body, carrying her upstairs and pulling off clothing. The flashbacks wash over him and he lets himself weep. His tongue pushing into her as she moans, her mouth wrapped around him, him pumping into her overcome with passion and love and a need to be hers forever. The gentle and affectionate touches when they finished and held each other like they'd do it every day until they died.

"Oh God, Vivian." He holds his head in his hands as the tears stream down his face. He should've married her. His heart aches thinking of her coming to see him when he was so hurt and needed her so badly, only to be turned away. How could he have spent all those years angry? How could he let her fall into Sonny's arms?

And now she's gone forever. She'll have a baby soon and then he will have truly lost her. He'll only ever-

There's a knock at the door. Whoever it is can wait. Elvis is too lost in his grief to answer the door right now.

He wraps his arms around himself and lets his shoulders shake with sobs.

Another knock, this time a little more urgent. He listens carefully and realizes it's raining. Briefly, he feels for the person who is soaking wet on his porch, but not enough to get up and answer the door.

He's always taking care of everyone else. In this moment, he needs to just be and feel and nurse his broken heart.

More knocking, almost frantic.

Fine. He gets up off the couch and goes to the door.

******

Vivian sits on the front steps in the rain, crying. She's knocked and knocked, but either he's not here or he doesn't want to see her. She has nowhere else to go and even if she did, this is the only place she wants to be. Why won't he answer?

She gets up to walk back to her car.

******

"Viv?" He says it softly, not believing what he sees in front of him. Then, he realizes she's walking away and runs out to her in the driveway. "Vivian!"

She stops dead and turns to face him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sonny left."

"He did? Why?"

"Because I'm in love with you." His heart skips.

"You... what?"

"I'm in love with you, Elvis. I always have been. I love you with every fiber of my being. It's like you're a part of me that I can't dig out. You're in me. You are me. I love you. God, I love you." She stands there, chest heaving, trying not to be a cliched crying mess in the rain. Elvis's heart has stopped with her words. His hands shake and he wants to pinch himself to make sure he isn't dreaming.

"Am I- am I too late?" She asks, almost panicked. Finally, he finds his voice.

"Never."

He takes two steps and has her in his arms, his mouth pressed to hers in a desperate kiss. The years of yearning pour out of them into the way their tongues mix in an ardent dance of need. He grabs the back of her thighs and she jumps to wrap her legs around him. Then, he turns and carries her up the steps into the house, slamming the door behind them with his foot.

She moans into his kiss as they make their way up the staircase to the bedroom, her still wrapped around him. In the room, he sets her down gently and begins peeling off her wet clothes, one layer at a time, dropping his lips to every new exposed inch of skin. He makes a trail of hot kisses along her body, finally dragging down her pants and underwear until she's fully naked in front of him. But when he goes to dive face first into her center, she stops him.

"No. I want to feel your skin." She unbuttons his shirt and pushes it off of his shoulders, going to the buttons on his pants next. He kicks off his shoes while she undoes the zipper and pulls, exposing him to her fully. They stand for a second, just taking each other in with nothing in between them, finally.

He caresses the side of her face and steps closer to her so that their bodies touch softly. She looks up at him in anticipation as he runs his thumb over her cheek.

"I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I should've said it then and every day since. It's always been you, Viv." He leans in and kisses her gently again, his hand moving down her body tenderly. When he gets to her lower back, he pulls her in close to press against him and kisses down her neck. She whimpers at the feel of his length pushing into her hip, reaching down to stroke him with her hand. He grunts at the sensation and slowly walks her backwards to the edge of the bed. She sits down, her hand still pumping him, but he stops her and gets on his knees.

"You're the love of my life, Vivian. I want to give you the world." He leans forward and kisses her thigh, pushing her legs open further to get to her center. "Let me give you everything I have, baby."

With that, he lowers his mouth to her and presses his tongue into her slit, dragging it up to the hardened bud, licking over and around it vigorously. She inhales sharply and throws her head back.

"Oh, God, Elvis." She runs her hand in his hair. He groans, but doesn't stop working his mouth on her. He moves his tongue in circles and then in a hard line over the top of her clit, keeping a steady rhythm. Her hips buck forward into his face and he slides a finger into her, tickling the spot that makes her moan out loud.

"Fuck!" Her back arches as her orgasm builds quickly. She feels herself on the edge, ready to spill over into an ocean of pleasure.

"Come on, baby. You're right there. Let go for me." He goes back to licking her with a fervor he's never expressed before. He's never been so invested in a woman's pleasure but he wants to give Vivian more than she's ever experienced. And he does. In that moment the dam breaks and she cries out as the waves of ecstasy crest and break inside her over and over again.

"Yes! Fuck! Yessssss!" She moans with her teeth gritted, her body quaking with the aftershock of the most unbelievable orgasm.

When she finally comes down, she sits up and grabs him, pulling him into a deep kiss, her tongue diving into his mouth feverishly.

"I'm so... in love... with you..." She whispers in between kisses, her hands running down his chest. She stands him up and he looks down at her, cupping her chin in his hand.

"No, baby. I'm in love with you." She smiles and leans forward, holding his cock in one hand, pulling his foreskin back and running her tongue around the tip. He leans back, his lips parted slightly and his eyes closed. "God, that feels good."

She tries not to smile as she pulls him fully into her mouth, letting him hit the back of her throat. She buries her nose in the hair at the base of him, swallowing around him. Then, she begins to move up and down as he thrusts slowly. She puts her hands on his hips and works him gently, moaning. He grunts and takes a handful of her hair.

"Viv, baby, you have to stop. I'm not finished making love to you."

She pulls back off of him and looks up, crawling backwards onto the bed. He climbs on top of her, kissing her neck and chest up to her mouth.

"I am yours, Vivian. Body and soul." He lines his cock up with her dripping entrance and teases her clit for a second. "I want to love you like this forever."

"Please, Elvis. Never stop." He nods and pushes into her.

"I won't, baby." He whispers as he slides in as deep as he'll go, grunting when he feels her tightness around him. "You were made for me."

She whimpers as he fills her, pulling back and pushing into her again. Neither of them will ever get enough of the way it feels to be connected like this. They fit together like a lock and key and the pleasure hits them both at the same time.

"Yes, Elvis..." Her back arches as he continues his sensual rhythm of sliding out and filling her, his hips rolling into her over and over and over. Their sweat begins to mix as their bodies meet in burning kisses, breast to chest, stomach to stomach, hip to hip, and thigh to thigh. His hand runs up and down her, squeezing and pinching softly where it pleases them both until it settles on her hip, holding her in place as his thrusting picks up. He's still moving slowly, pounding her deeply, slamming her with his cock both passionately and lovingly.

"Oh, God, Viv, I love the way you feel." He sets his head on her shoulder, knowing his climax is coming fast. "I don't want this to be over."

She takes his face in her hands and kisses the tip of his nose.

"This will never be over. I'm yours until the end. Let go, baby. I'm not going anywhere." He whimpers softly and peppers her face with kisses as he goes back to pumping into her. His pace increases and her breasts bounce as he moves inside her harder and harder. He feels his orgasm building in his cock and he knows he's ready to explode. He slams into her two more times and then cries out as he shudders.

"Fuck, yes, Viv!" He feels his release wash over him as he cums hard inside her, emptying himself as the tsunami-force ecstasy crashes through him. He's frozen inside her, cock throbbing until he's completely spent. She whines through her own orgasm as he collapses on top of her, careful not to crush her with his weight. He slides out of her gently and lays next to her, pulling her into the crook of his arm where she fits perfectly. She reaches up and pushes his sweaty hair back off of his forehead and then runs her fingertips down the side of his face. He grabs her fingers and kisses them, looking down at her. She smiles up at him and whispers. "Je t'aimes toujours avec tout mon coeur."

"You know I don't speak French, baby." He chuckles.

"It means 'I love you always with all of my heart.' It's something I was saving to say to the man that set me on fire. And it's you. I burn for you, Elvis. I always have and I always will." He smiles, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I will make you mine forever as soon as I can. You are the one who my soul loves. Viv, tell me this is us, from now on."

"Always and forever, Elvis."

"Always and forever."

******

A lot happens for Elvis and Vivian through 1972 and 1973. Vivian moves into Graceland and they christen every room in the house. Then, Elvis films Elvis on Tour in April and Vivian is there. He plays at Madison Square Garden in June and Vivian is there. He goes on tour again and still, Viv is there. Then, he does the Aloha show in Hawaii and she is there for that too. Both of their divorces are finalized in 1973 and they're there for each other. By Thanksgiving, Elvis has a 10-carat ring on her finger and by Christmas they're married.

He records an album at Stax that won't be released until 1975, but there's a song on it that makes him think of Vivian so much he almost cries. He saves it for the right moment, though.

So when she comes to him on New Year's Eve with a note from the doctor confirming her pregnancy, he knows exactly what to do. He pulls her into a warm embrace, kissing the top of her head. Slowly they begin to sway and he sings:

The first time I saw you I knew I was hooked on somebody other than me

And the first time I held you, your soft lips and blue eyes

Were as far as my eyes could see

Yes, here in my arms I knew I had found the reason that I'm livin' for

And I felt the feeling, such a wonderful feeling

That I'd never felt before

Baby, you're love's been a long time comin'

Baby your love's got a hold on me

Baby your love's sure got me hummin'

Baby your love's been a long time comin'

******

Fin

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @atleastpleasetelephone @burnthheparaphilia @cinnamoroll-things

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Yes Mama Chapter 2

Summary:  Bucky Barnes has made quite the name for himself in the underground mob boss world.  But he’s not the boss.  Just the face of the Family.  

Warnings:  violence, subtle mention of drugs, murder, language, possessiveness, smut, mild choking, public sex

Kids: oldest (from Steve) Frankie 12, second (from Tony) Antonia 10, third (from T’Challa) Uuka 8, fourth (from Bucky) Beau 6, fifth (from Bucky) Lottie 5, sixth (from Bucky) Valentina 3

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Y/N was stuck in her office for hours lately.  Bucky was usually in on those meetings, but she’d been sending him out to deal with making sure that loyalties among the lower level “employees” who didn’t know about her were still strong and people were doing as they were told.  Being the mob boss queen meant she demanded respect and fierce loyalty from all she worked with, and in exchange she took care of them.  Everyone on her payroll and their families would be set for life if they just followed the rules: don’t get caught, and if you do, you know nothing.  You might not make it out of prison, but you would be protected while inside, and your family and affairs would be taken care of until you got back.  

With the amount of rats they’d had pop up over the last couple of years, she was paranoid, making sure that those working under her, as well as her informants, spies, moles, connections in law enforcement, and her allies were all on the same page as her and her expectations.  She had been having long meetings with the other Dons who knew who she was and fathered her first three children.  The kids knew who their fathers really were, and were loved and doted on by their biological fathers, but they almost always referred to Bucky as “dad.”

Y/N was in a meeting with Steve Rogers, Frankie’s father, and Bucky was feeling the jealousy eating him alive.  It was just the two of them in there.  He tried to tell himself he had nothing to worry about, but couldn’t seem to get his heart to listen to his mind.  The separation was becoming too much for him, and he was missing her terribly.  He returned from being out and rounded the corner to see Steve and Y/N walking out of her study.  They talked quietly for a moment before Steve took Y/N’s hand and kissed the ruby ring, then leaned in and kissed her cheek, far too close to her mouth for Bucky’s liking.  Bucky hid himself behind the corner for another minute until Steve nodded and started to walk away from her towards him.  Bucky pretended to just come around the corner and Steve gave him a friendly smile.  “Hey Buck,” he greeted him.  “Good to see you.”

“Rogers,” Bucky greeted him coldly.

“Oh come on, punk,” Steve frowned.  “When are you gonna let it go?  It was a long time ago.  You’re married to her–”

Bucky scoffed.  “Yeah.  See you around.”  He walked away towards Y/N’s study, then Frankie came running around the other corner.  “Hey bud,” Bucky greeted him.

“Hey Dad,” Frankie said, hugging him.  “Mama said Steve was here.”

Bucky gestured behind him and Frankie looked and saw him.  “Oh, hi Steve.”

“Hey kid,” Steve smiled widely.  “Are you ready for some fun?”

“Yeah,” Frankie nodded with an excited smile.  He looked back up at Bucky.  “We’re going to see the Yankees game.”

“Nice,” Bucky nodded with a tight smile.  He leaned down and kissed the top of Frankie’s head.  “Be safe, and have fun.”

“I will.  Love you!” Frankie said, then ran over to Steve, who hugged him and ruffled his hair.

“Love you,” Bucky called back.  He watched them leave before huffing a sharp breath then turning to her study.  At least he calls me dad, he thought wryly.  He knocked on her door and she called him in.  He walked in to find her pouring over some paperwork on her desk, writing some things furiously before flipping pages over.  “Mama,” he greeted her.

“Report?” she asked, not looking up.  

Bucky silently sighed.  She’d been much more curt with him since that night she rejected his advances.  He didn’t blame her, but it still hurt.  “Loyalties are strong on the surface, but we’re doing some double checking,” he said.  She continued to jot things down and then put down her pen and looked at him.  “How was your meeting?” he asked, immediately regretting it.  He just couldn’t seem to help himself.  

Y/N smirked at him.  “It was fine.  Steve is still committed to our arrangement.  Did Frankie find him?” Bucky nodded.  “Good.”

“And Tony?  T’Challa?” he asked.

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Are you asking because you’re interested in business or because you wanna know if I fucked any of them on my desk?”

Bucky grimaced.  She could read him so easily, and he felt embarrassed and ashamed at how jealous and insecure he was about it.  He inhaled deeply, looking away and down at the floor.  “I’m asking about business,” he said quietly.  

Y/N stood from her chair and walked around to the front of the desk, hoisting herself to sit on top of it.  She was wearing a shorter dress today, and as she sat it rucked up her thick legs, letting him see more of her thighs, and a small peek of her bright red underwear.  He tried really hard to keep his eyes on her face, his jaw clenching as he refused to let his frustration show on his face.  “I was doing the same as you, checking that our loyalties are strong.  But, just for your peace of mind, no, I didn’t fuck any of them,” she started, arching her eyebrow at him.  “The only time I ever fucked them was, is, and will be, the only time that ever happens.  It was for protection, alliance, not out of lust or love.”  She paused, then lifted her hand and crooked her finger to gesture for him to come closer.  Bucky walked over until he was standing right in front of her.  She grabbed his flesh hand and held it.  “I didn’t know Steve was your friend,” she said quietly.  It was most likely the only apology he was ever going to get from her for the past.

Bucky squeezed her fingers.  “I understand.”

Y/N let go of his hand and reached up to cup the side of his face.  “I love those babies I got from them, but they will never take over the Family someday.  Your babies,” she paused, gripping his jaw and making him lean down close to her face, “our babies, that you and I made, with lust, and love, and everything in between, are our legacy.  You gave me a prince and two princesses to take over the empire, didn’t you?”  Buck exhaled shakily, his eyes flicking across her face, his hands steadying himself on either side of her on her desk as he felt the desire flooding through him.  He nodded at her words, his face leaning closer to nuzzle her nose.  She angled her face and her lips ghosted across his lips.  “You and I, babydoll, are never off the table,” she whispered.

Bucky whimpered.  He hadn’t heard her call him that pet name in the longest time, and it ignited something deep inside that made his knees weak.  “Mama please,” he begged.  

Y/N’s hand let go of his face and felt him all the way down to his pants, palming him gently.  She hummed.  “You want me?” she asked seductively.  Bucky nodded frantically, watching her touch him.  She leaned back, still touching him, but giving herself room to spread her legs, making her dress hike up so he could see her underwear fully.  They were wet where they met her pussy, and he shivered at the sight.  “And all that comes with me?” she asked.  

Bucky nodded frantically.  “Yes!  Yes, Mama,” he breathed.  “I love those kids…even though they’re not mine.  I love them.  And I’m sorry my jealousy got in the way of that,” he said, his words coming out like word-vomit.  “I missed…I miss you.  Please Mama.  I need you.  I want you.  All of you.”  His eyes started to fill with tears.  “I love you.  I’ve always loved you.”

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered at his words.  “I love you,” she whispered, then pulled him down to lay over her as she laid back on the desk and kissed him hard.  Bucky whimpered again, kissing her back deeply.  It was heavy panting, hurried movements, sloppy and passionate, just how it always was with her.  His hands gripped her thighs and moved her legs to intertwine at her ankles behind his back as his hips rutted into her.  Y/N moaned at the feeling of him against her core.  Bucky couldn’t get enough, having been deprived of her for so long.  His kisses moved from her mouth down to her chest, where he started untying the wrap-around dress so that it splayed open for him to kiss, lick, and suck at her breasts that were bare underneath.  “Fuck yes, babydoll,” Y/N groaned.

“God I missed you calling me that,” Bucky grunted as he sucked at her nipples, giving each of them ample attention.  “Can I have you, Mama?  I’ll make you feel so good, please…please please please…”

“You wanna fuck me babydoll?” Y/N asked as he continued sucking at her breasts, his flesh hand sliding down in between her legs, feeling her wetness in her underwear.  Bucky nodded, looking up at her pleadingly.  “You gonna fuck another baby into me?”

“If that’s what you want, Mama,” he said, moving back up to her face.  “I’ll give you everything, all that I am.  I’m yours to do with whatever you want.”

“Then give it to me,” Y/N said, pushing his jacket off.  “Give it to me the way only you can.”

Bucky moaned.  “Yes, Mama,” he said, then picked her up off the desk and carried her over to the couch in the corner.  They’d fucked on this couch multiple times over the years, but after not having her for a while he felt a twist of excitement at the sight of it, the memories rushing back to his mind.  He pulled her dress completely off, laid her on the couch making sure they were both settled, and then ripped her underwear off with his metal hand.  

Y/N gasped.  “Buck!”

“I’ll get you some more,” he groaned as his metal fingers got wet from her arousal rubbing up and down through her lower lips.  “Though with how much time we have to make up for, I don’t want you wearing any underwear so I can take you anytime, anywhere.”

Y/N smiled up at him.  “Great minds think alike,” she said teasingly.  Bucky kissed her again as he stripped himself, throwing his clothes off to the side.  He gripped his cock and slid it through her wet slit, teasing her clit with his tip repeatedly until she was writhing underneath him.  “Don’t tease, babydoll,” she said in a warning tone.  

“Yes, Mama,” Bucky smirked, then slid all the way into her in one thrust.  Y/N stiffened under him, her mouth dropping open as she silently gasped.  Bucky tensed his whole body, trying desperately not to immediately cum.  “Holy shit, you feel so good.  Always so good to me,” he breathed.

“Move,” Y/N said, her hips trembling.  “You know how I like it.”

Bucky nodded and lifted her legs so she was nearly folded in half, her feet on his upper back from how spread her knees were.  She had always been flexible in her hips, and he loved that he could feel her all around him.  He pulled his hips back, his hands still pushing her legs up, and started thrusting hard.  Y/N moaned, and he reveled in the noises he could pull from her.  He hadn’t heard them in so long that his head felt dizzy.  His hands felt all over her legs, her hips, her stomach, her sides, her breasts, everywhere that he could reach easily.  

Y/N’s hands were feeling him, too, her arms winding behind his back and her hands grasping his shoulders from behind, keeping him as close as possible.  Their combined heavy breaths, the moans, sloppy kisses and skin slapping skin all echoed through the study.  Her pussy fluttered around him and her legs shook, warning him that she was close.  “You gonna cum for me, Mama?” he whispered, a huffed breath on her cheek with how close they were to each other.  She nodded drunkenly, her eyes looking him over like he was brand new.  “You want my cum?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, then squealed when his hand gripped the back of her neck and into her hair.  “Fuck yes.  Fuck it into me, babydoll.”  Bucky shuddered at her words, making her smirk deeply.  “You like that?”  He nodded, licking up her neck.  “You like me dripping you all day long?”

“Yes!” Bucky grunted.  “Make you mine.  Only mine.  My Mama.”

“That’s right,” she nodded, running her hands through his hair just how he liked.  “I’m yours.  You’re mine, babydoll.  Only…mine…”

Bucky started thrusting even harder and faster, his metal hand slipping between them and flicking her clit fast.  Y/N tugged his hair hard, her forehead pressing against his as she shrieked and finally came, her pussy gripping him mercilessly.  As she shook under him he couldn’t hold it anymore and came inside her, continuing to thrust and fuck it into her like she wanted, his own loud whimper getting swallowed by her kiss.

They kissed lazily until they could breathe normally again, then Bucky pulled himself up.  He sat up on his knees then pulled her up with him, doing his best to keep his cock buried deep inside her as he maneuvered them to lay back on the pillows, her head laying on his sternum.  When he was comfortable he pulled her left hand up to his mouth and kissed her Family ring, then saw she was wearing the wedding ring he’d given her years ago.  It wasn’t as grand as the ruby ring, but complemented it, just like their relationship.  She hadn’t worn it in a while, and it filled him with pride that she finally put it back on today.  It was like she knew this would happen all along, which if he were honest with himself, she probably did.  She knew him better than he knew himself, most days.  She most likely knew that after these meetings he’d be jealous, insecure, horny and desperate.  He couldn’t even be mad at her as he kissed her wedding ring as well.  “I missed you, Mama,” he said quietly.

“I missed you, Buck,” Y/N breathed, squeezing his fingers.  She looked up at him with a sweet smile.  “My babydoll.”

[pascaloverx]

Hit The Road

Epilogue (M)

previous chapter

Summary: You are a hunter of supernatural beings who is forced to experience a new reality: being a vampire. The only thing stronger than your thirst for blood is your thirst for revenge.

Author's note: Hello dear readers, did you miss me? I decided to write this extra chapter to complement the end of the fanfic. I hope those who read it will enjoy and comment. Thank you for your attention. This chapter contains adult content. Minors should not interact with or read this story.

Being human again has been a challenge. Especially considering that you are romantically involved with two vampires who are brothers. Your hunting days are over and you've got a job as waitress at Mystic Grill. But recently there was a vampire attack near Mystic Falls. You don't like to admit it but you're suspecting it was Damon.

"I'm not going to interfere in your relationship with my brother. It's weird enough with the two of us sharing you. If I start questioning him, he'll get pissed." Stefan says while he's getting ready to leave. He and Caroline are taking her daughters for a trip.

"You're a coward. Let me go talk to your brother while you go on a romantic trip with your ex and her cute daughters." You say pretending to be uncomfortable, Stefan kisses your mouth in the next second.

"I thought there was no jealousy in our relationship." Stefan kisses every corner of your face, finally kissing your neck gently. You smile as if you've let go of your jealousy.

"I actually don't care if you still love Caroline or Elena. I just thought that one of the bonuses of you being with me would be to have your companionship in moments like when I'm going to accuse your brother of having once again brutally attacked people." You say, sighing as if you already knew how tense it was going to be to have this conversation. Stefan kisses you again, but this time it's an apologetic kiss.

"I'm sure you'll know how to deal with your other boyfriend. And don't forget that I love you." Stefan gives you one last kiss on the lips and leaves with his small suitcase of clothes. The best thing about the relationship you've built with the Salvatore brothers is that you don't mind having a lot of distrust. If Stefan gets involved with Caroline on this trip, he'll probably be honest about it and that's okay. After all, it wouldn't be fair for you to date both of them and for them to only have you. You make your way to Damon's room very cautiously, thinking about the right way to ask if he's back to attacking people.

"If you came here to accuse me of something, you better leave." Damon says as he come out of his bathroom and appears to be looking for something to put on. His bath towel is wrapped around his waist and he is slightly wet.

"You know I just need to make sure..." You're about to finish speaking but suddenly, Damon is in front of you. Vampires' faster speed is crazy. He's staring at you like he's angry.

"Are you here to make sure I didn't kill anyone? I wonder if you questioned Stefan about that too. I highly doubt you suspected anyone other than me. Is this what I get from being with you?" He questions you and you almost feel ashamed. Maybe you should trust him more.

"Assure me it wasn't you, and I'll be sorry I suspected you. No relationship can be filled with trust, Damon. And with our past, I thought that you could be involved in this attack." You say feeling your heart beat faster due to the proximity to Damon.

"So you can confirm with Elena. I was with her every night while these people were attacked. Is there anything else?" Damon speaks in a way that you know he wants to hurt you. He didn't tell you he was seeing Elena again.

"Why do you insist on making everything seem worse? I'm your girlfriend, I would obviously care about you to the point of wanting to know if you killed people. But if you think I will regret questioning you for finding out that you were with Elena, you are wrong. I'm actually glad that instead of killing someone, you were just fucking your ex." You respond a little angry but seriously. Damon smirks at you. But you only turn around, ready to leave the room.

"I wasn't with her like that. But it's nice to see you jealous." Damon says while holding his hand so you wouldn't leave his room.

"You do this on purpose, right? You try to get me off my feet for fun." You question while still holding Damon's hand. Your eyes meet.

"I want you to understand that if I'm going to attack people, you're going to know. If I'm sleeping with my ex, you're going to know too. Because I committed to being honest with you. In fact I have been nothing but committed to you." Damon responds and you feel guilty. Maybe you should have more confidence in him. You take a step towards Damon, holding his face close to yours. You kiss him softly, almost like a kiss to make up.

"I know you're committed to me, I want you to know I appreciate that." You say as soon as you break the kiss. Damon smiles slightly and then gives you another kiss. This time a thirstier kiss. You barely even feel it when he starts to take off your clothes. When you notice between passionate kisses, you're just in your underwear. Damon holds you steady so you can climb into his lap as he leans you against the wall. His hands touch your breasts with some force, which makes you moan.

"I hate fighting with you but I love sex to make up." Damon says while taking off your panties, soon after letting his towel fall to the floor. His dick enters you right away, making you scratch at Damon when you feel him thrust into you so abruptly. You kiss him, nibbling his lip as if trying to tease him. He enters and exits you with precision but delicacy at the same time. You throw your body against him trying to feel him a little more inside you. He holds your ass and squeezes it while he puts his dick in you. Your moans fill the room as he bites your neck, You feel him take some of your blood but it makes you even more excited. You start bouncing on Damon's cock, while moaning every time he enters your pussy. When you feel like you're going to cum, you pull Damon's hair back hard. He seems to love it. As some of your blood drips from his mouth, he also seems to be getting close to cumming.

"I love you." You say as you increase the times you sit on Damon. You pull him close to kiss him and he pushes you further against the wall. Your legs are already weak around his waist. He thrusts into you while using his hands to caress your legs and drink some more of your blood.

" Love you too." Damon says as he thrusts even harder into you. You feel your pussy all wet around Damon's cock. After a couple more thrusts from Damon, you cum. He cums a little later as he slows down his thrusts. You melt into Damon's arms who, after pulling out of you, carries you to the bathroom for a second round in his bathtub.

END

[amberlynnmurdock]

Blind Faith

Chapter 8: Forgiveness

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets," Matthew 7:12.

Warnings: making out, angst, Matt's Catholic guilt and lack of accountability lol

Tags: @starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn @mattmurdocksstarlight @marvelcinematiquniverse

Also, Ao3 link for anyone interested <3

Hell’s Kitchen 11 PM

It wasn’t right to keep coming to you at night, as Mike, when as your boss, everything had fallen apart. 

Matt fought with himself mentally ever since that night he last was with you—kissing your knee and giving you the space you needed. I shouldn’t be here anyway, he had told himself. Then why did he find himself crouched on his roof again, sensing with his hearing the path to your apartment? Why was he pacing back and forth on his roof, a tug of war between right and wrong, to make a decision? 

The whole thing was screwed up, he thought. He was pretending to be two different people with you: it wasn’t fair. As Matt Murdock, he had yelled at you and hurt your feelings. Of course, he wasn’t happy with himself. He let his feelings for you, as Mike, get the best of him. How was he supposed to react to hearing you’d put yourself in danger? 

God, the thought of you in that apartment complex, by yourself, with no weapon but that cheap can of mace you had on you the night he first met you. Something else echoed in Matt’s mind, that one night you’d taunted him with the willingness of throwing yourself in danger. “I’d walk into the depths of this city alone and in nothing but a sundress and wait for you to come to find me.” Matt shook his head at the memory, feeling his blood boil at the thought of you in danger, and him being absent. 

He was mad at the situation, mad at how he reacted, mad at himself. It felt really, really wrong, to ignore you in the office but still keep seeing you at night.

But if he stopped seeing you, even until things got better at the office, it might be suspicious. Especially since the two of you had fallen into a routine over the last few weeks. He wanted to apologize, to hold you and tell you the only reason he got upset was because the thought of you getting hurt made him nauseated, sick…but he can’t. Not as Mike. Not as your savior. He could only apologize to you as Matt, something he knew he had to do sooner than later.

Matt did find himself on your roof, soon enough. 

He waited for a few moments. You were in your room, wearing a soft hoodie and shorts. Your friends were just on their way out, but not before making sure you wanted to stay in. 

“Are you sure?” One of them whined. Matt listened closely to your breathing. 

“Yeah, I’ve got to study. Seriously,” You gently argued. You were half lying, Matt could tell. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. 

“All right well, leave the kitchen light on for when we come back,” another one of them said. 

“Will do. Be safe,” you told your friends. 

Matt waited and tightened the mask on his face. He listened as your friends made their way down the elevator, onto the streets. Then, he heard you shuffle back inside your room. You slipped on your shoes and headed for the rooftop access. 

Matt waited for you by the door, head down. When he was immediately hit with your overwhelming sweet scent, he knew there was no turning back now. 

“Studying, huh?” Matt teased. 

He heard you sigh, not lightheartedly. Tiredly. 

“How can you hear that? I wasn’t lying to them,” you argued. “Not entirely.”

You stood in front of him, arms crossed. Matt gently uncrossed your arms, pulled you in, and held you tightly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck. Breathing in your sweet scent reminded him of the day he yelled at you. Well, it was always on his mind, but this transported him back to that moment. Not only was the sound of your heart banging in your chest overtaking his hearing, but it was everything else in how you reacted that became obvious to his senses: your nervous sweat, your voice quivering. The more he thought of it, the more guilty he felt. The more it became obvious he had to apologize and ask for your forgiveness. He’d get on his knees right now if he could. 

Why was he here? What was he doing to you? 

“What is it?” He suddenly heard you ask him against his chest. You stayed there for a moment until you pulled back, arms still around him. 

“Something’s bothering you,” Matt spoke softly. It’s bothering me, too. But maybe if I can talk to you like this, as Mike, I can understand. 

“Yeah…” you trailed off. “I don’t know. Do you wanna hear about it?” 

“Tell me.” 

You sighed, again, and ran a hand through your hair. 

“Well, I’m not sure you’ll be too happy either,” you began. “The other night, I was out with my friends. I wasn’t really in the mood, but I haven’t gone out in a while. It was at a Cathedral turned bar. You’d hate it—sacrilegious and whatnot. Anyway, I left to get fresh air and happened to be on the street of one of our client’s houses. I thought I’d be helping, taking pictures for her of her terrible, criminal-run apartment. But my one boss, Matt, got so mad at me,” you explained, defeated. “I’ve never been talked to like that by anyone.” 

Matt tried not to react when you said his real name. 

“Did he say why he was upset?” 

“I put myself in danger, he said. Sure, that might be true, but I did it because I wanted to help.” 

“His anger must have come from a place of wanting you to be safe,” Matt echoed his thoughts from earlier. “Maybe the very thought of you in danger is too much to bear.” 

“Well, that’s on me,” you argued, “if I want to do something risky.” 

“Your risks can affect others too, you know,” Matt replied. 

“It’s not like I mean anything to him—I’m just his summer legal assistant.” 

Oh, sweetheart. You are much more to me than that. 

“You don’t know that,” Matt whispered. 

“You wouldn’t have done the same thing I did?” You questioned. 

“I would’ve,” Matt answered truthfully, “but it’s different. You’re a young woman, who barely has experience defending herself.” 

“Well, we all start somewhere, don’t we?”

Matt ignored you. “I’m happy you are safe. You should let people know your whereabouts next time.” 

“I have the phone you gave me,” you argued. “I would’ve called you if anything had gone wrong.” 

“I—“ Matt struggled with his words, “I know. Still. Please,” Matt begged, reaching his fingertips to your jaw, “I need you to be safe.” 

You cursed under your breath, you were tired of hearing the same sentiments from everyone. 

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Matt asked. 

“I guess I just hope he can forgive me,” you confessed. “I think that’s what’s bothering me. The guilt. I thought… he could be a mentor or something for me. But I feel like it’s ruined now.” 

“If his anger came from a place of wanting you to be safe, I am sure he feels guilty for the way he handled it,” Matt said in a strained voice. “He will forgive you.”  

“I hope you’re right.” 

Matt found your lips, pressing a light kiss on you. You slowly pulled back, feeling his lips detach from yours. 

“I am,” he whispered. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t about Matt forgiving you—it was more if you would be willing to forgive him. 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

You woke up slowly, then all at once. You had that strange feeling you got when your dream slowly fizzled into reality—it took you a moment to realize the startling beeping came from your phone alarm. 6:30 AM. Well, you didn’t want to admit it, but you knew there was no avoiding going in early for work this morning. And that meant possibly sharing the office space with Matt. 

It’s been a couple of days since he scolded you for taking pictures at Ms. Cruz’s apartment. You tried avoiding him at the office during this time, walking quickly past him when you had to, dropping his files off on his desk before he arrived, or shortly after he left…Karen told you she talked to him and said he would be apologizing, but that hasn’t come yet. You wondered if it ever would. Not that you really needed it; you just wanted things to go back to how they were. 

On your way to work, you took your time walking up the blocks of Hell’s Kitchen—you passed a bodega and went inside to grab some coffee for the office and some snacks as well: mini donuts and pastries. The old man at the counter smiled graciously at you as you dropped the change into his tip bucket. Small things like this made you feel better about heading into work. 

As predicted, you were the first person to arrive at 7:30 AM. You locked the door as you usually did and began to unpack what you bought from the bodega. You placed the box of donuts and pastries in the middle of the kitchen counter and began to refill the coffee machine. Walking to your desk, you booted up your laptop as you waited for the coffee to brew. 

Then came a knock. 

You looked up with feline reflexes and saw Matt’s silhouette in the window. His head was low as he waited for you to open up for him. After a deep breath, you walked over to let him inside.

“Good morning,” you greeted in a weaker voice than you anticipated. 

Matt pressed his lips together, in an attempt to grin. “Morning.” 

You shut the door, not locking it. 

You stood by for a moment, your hand on your opposite elbow, Matt’s back to you. You watched as he undid his jacket and hung it on the coat rack. He pulled his cane apart and felt for his jacket pocket, slipping it inside. He paused for a moment.

“How are you?” He asked turning his head. You could see his eyes peek from behind his dark red glasses. You moved your eyes to the floor. 

“Good,” you lied, “how are you?” 

“I’m all right,” he answered. “You got more coffee?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It should be done in a bit.” 

“Okay,” Matt breathed. He placed a hand on the door frame of his office and kept his other at his waist. Suddenly, everything in the office felt tense, like you were standing in the middle of an invisible fog. You didn’t need to see it to feel it. And frankly, Matt probably didn’t either. His head was low like he was thinking of what to say. 

“When it’s done,” he began, “would you come into my office? So I can talk to you?” 

“Yeah,” you replied as lightly as you could. Hopeful. “That's fine.” 

You wanted the coffee machine to hurry up from that point on. You poured two cups of coffee—black—and entered Matt’s office, shutting the door behind you. You placed a cup in front of him, to his surprise. 

“It’s black,” you told him with a small smile. He smiled in return, moving it to the side. 

“Thank you.” 

Your cup burned in your hands, so you placed it on his desk as well. 

Matt said your name, ever so softly. You’ve never heard his voice like this. He’s spoken to you kindly before—but not softly. 

“I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier this week. I know it was unprofessional. And I know it hurt you, for me to lose my temper like that,” Matt began. He shifted behind his desk and fiddled with his tie like it was too tight around his neck. 

“I want you to know that it came from a place of wanting to keep you safe. This firm has seen the worst of Wilson Fisk. I know Karen told you about Mrs. Cardenas. And while Fisk may not have his power anymore, there’s still evil in every corner of this city. I was more upset about me not knowing you were there. And I couldn’t bare to think of what could’ve happened if anything went wrong, and I wasn’t—none of us knew,” Matt pleaded, fingers interlocked. He sighed, at the mention of what could’ve gone wrong, like the thought of it actually pained him. You felt guilty, to an extent. He was right in some ways. 

“I understand, Matt,” you spoke softly, “I know I should’ve called someone. Like I said, I wasn’t planning on doing it. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. But now I know better, to consult with you or Karen or Foggy.” 

“Honestly, I… can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same. But, please, next time, let us know. That’s all. I really… really can’t fathom if… if…” 

“I know,” you finished his thought for him. “I get it. Thank you for talking to me about it, Matt. I really appreciate it.” 

“And… I hope you can forgive me, for how I reacted. It wasn’t right. I know that,” Matt shook his head, sort of defeated. 

“Of course, I do—as long as you forgive me for going behind everyone’s back.” 

Matt held out his hand in response. You hesitated and then shook it. His hand felt surprisingly soft but strong. It was cold. He slowly retreated his hand. He smiled warmly and slid the coffee cup back in front of him. Then, a worried expression fell on his face again. 

“Your arm,” he mentioned, “I remember Karen said it was bruised. Is it okay now?” 

You’d almost forgotten about your tattoo-like bruise. It was beginning to fade, changing from blue and purple to green and yellow. It didn’t hurt anymore. 

“Oh,” you said, “yeah, it’s getting better. It doesn’t hurt.” 

“Good,” Matt nodded. 

You sat up from the chair and began to walk out, but Matt’s voice stopped you again. 

“I’m sorry,” Matt said again, “just so you know that I really regret speaking to you that way.”

You exhaled, truly feeling like a weight had been lifted off your chest. “It’s really okay, Matt. I’m just glad we can move forward.” 

He smiled and turned his attention to his Orbit reader. 

The rest of the morning went by better than you could imagine. It didn’t have to be said that Matt apologized—it was a clear indication that things were fine when Foggy and Karen noticed you going back and forth to Matt’s office, with questions about his cases and offering help on any writing. 

Things became even more solidified that all was well when Matt left a gift on your desk for you at the end of the day: a brand new leather-bound legal notepad. The color red. 

⣿⣿⣿⣿ 11:30 PM 

Now that you felt everything in your professional life was fine again, you easily fell into the warmth and excitement of seeing Mike at night. For a little, it was hard to push those things aside but walking up the steps to the rooftop access, you felt as light as a feather. 

There he was, your creature of the night, stalking the roof with his hands behind his back, dressed all in black. His face was half covered, a comfort you’ve grown used to, a feeling you knew would be hard to detach from, if you ever had to. He smiled when you entered into his graces. You grabbed him by his jaw and kissed him, hard. 

“You seem in a better mood,” Mike smiled against your kiss. You ignored him and kissed him more. 

“I am,” you affirmed, running your hands along the length of his torso. “How about you, Catholic guilt?” 

Mike laughed, and you felt the vibrations in his chest. He snaked his arms around your waist and held you against him. You moved your head so your neck was exposed. Mike ran the tip of his nose along the side of your neck, peppering kisses along the way. He stopped when he reached your ear, gently tugging it with his teeth. 

“I can never be in a bad mood when I’m with you,” he murmured in your ear. You shivered against him.

“You sure you don’t say this to all the girls you’ve saved before?” You smirked. “Our meetings have started much later lately.”

Mike growled in your ear as he held you even tighter, the joke of him being with anyone else other than you triggering him. “You’re my first stop, my last, and my only,” he said in a husky tone. He kissed your neck and pulled your hair to guide your lips to his. He kissed you and slid his tongue into your mouth. You graciously accepted. He was kissing you like he’s never kissed you before. He ran his fingers through your hair and rested his hands on the small of your back. 

“Mike,” you pulled back, breathlessly, “you know what I was thinking recently? And by recently, I mean, just moments before this?” 

“What, sweetheart?” 

“Sometimes, well, frequently, I really worry about you. I know you’ve been doing this a while, but now I feel like I have a hand in this fight. I…I’m attached to you. I feel safe with you. I worry about you.”

Mike’s jaw clenched as you spoke. Did you upset him, in some way? By being honest? 

“I know you say you worry about me and want me to be safe, but that goes both ways now. You know what I mean?” You continued, reaching up to run your finger over his bottom lip. Mike seemed to melt at the touch, unclenching his jaw. 

“Yeah,” he answered softly, “I know.” 

“I just thought you should know that now.” 

“Forgive me,” he answered almost instantly, taking your hand from his face and holding it. “For making you feel that way.” 

You looked at him confused. He kissed your knuckles.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you said breathlessly. 

Oh, but only if you knew what there was. 

[j-eryewrites]

The Blind Banker (Final)

Part 14 of The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221B Baker Street

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: 10.k

Warnings: Guns, violence with weapons, violence with non-weapons, strangling, kidnapping, Sherlock is Sherlock, mentions of death, traumatic responses (let me know if I missed any)

*I woke up one day while writing this chapter and decided to be a poet. 

There was no meowing. No incessant begging from Bjørn. In fact, it was quiet. Quiet was nice. Y/N snuggled deeper underneath the blanket. Her brow furrowed. The sheets were soft like they were when they had just been washed. However, Y/N knew for a fact she hadn’t washed her sheets. She dared to open her eyes. Her body went tense as she shot out of bed. Nothing was stranger than waking up in a bedroom that looked eerily similar to your own. The blanket was a different colour. There was a desk in the corner. A desk Y/N knew that she did not own. The closet door was open. A wide variety of men’s button-ups and trousers were present. They weren’t Jim’s. Her eyes narrowed on a purple button-up. In a wave of recognition, Y/N groaned, and her face fell into her hands. She was in Sherlock’s room. 

Just like the light seeped through the curtains, her memory of last night had come back to her. She was helping Sherlock. John had passed out on the table and it seems that she had passed out on the couch. Now, how she had ended up in Sherlock’s bed was a mystery. There’s no way Sherlock brought me in here, Y/N thought. 

The warmth of Sherlock’s arms around her. Her head rested in the crook of his neck. The scent of him clouded her senses. A kiss on her forehead–a kiss goodnight. Y/N’s face went red. 

No. You’re just missing Jim. 

She tapped her cheeks and shoved the thoughts of Sherlock into the back of her mind. They, the thoughts, were just a product of loneliness. Jim had been gone a few days already. Jim. 

Y/N started to feel up in the surrounding areas. Her hands searched for the familiar shape of her phone. That small rectangular object soon became like a lifeline in this modern world. It astounded Y/N how much power such a tiny thing contained: the internet, long-distance communications, and entertainment. Another groan escaped her mouth once Y/N realized her phone was not in sight. She’d have to get out of bed. The warm bed. It smelled like Sherlock. 

No. Stop it. 

With that, she pulled back the covers and jumped out of the bed. Every morsel in her body protested. A protest she refuted with her sanity on the line. She was just missing Jim. Her boyfriend. The magnificent Jim made her have butterflies. The gentlemen. The man who ceased to amaze her. 

Her hand reached out to open the door, yet she found her hand hovering over the brass knob. It was a simple thing. Turn the knob and open the door. But the thought of having John just outside the door, or Mrs Hudson–Sherlock. Y/N’s cheeks burned and she was absolutely positive her face had turned a scarlet shade of red. 

Against her better judgment, Y/N opened the door. It creaked open with the loudest screech known to mankind. She winced as the sound echoed throughout the flat. 

“Good afternoon,” Sherlock announced from the living room. 

Y/N gulped as she tried to straighten her thoughts. She could very well go back into the room and pretend she had never arisen from her sleep. A suggestion that her mind heavily agreed with, but Sherlock knew. He knew she was awake. 

“Morning,” Y/N squeaked. She quickly cleared her throat, and her normal voice returned, “morning.” 

“It’s the afternoon,” Sherlock corrected. 

“Right, good aft–wait what? What time is it?” 

“Just a little past four o’clock.” Sherlock chuckled as he heard Y/N reprimand herself for sleeping in so late. 

Sherlock was still making his way through the crates. His finger carefully flipped through the pages. They flicked against each other before Sherlock shut the book, placing it in the never-ending pile. 

“What’s a book that everybody would own?” Sherlock wondered. His mind tired from the stream of words that filled his mind. He was even sure he had a couple of paper cuts from all the books he had handled throughout the night, but that was a problem for a later date. 

“Huh?” Y/N asked. Her mind was still groggy from her slumber. 

“A book that everybody would own,” He placed down the newest book in his hand. His eyes instinctively flew to the woman in the room and his heart did a little backflip. Her cheeks were the perfect shade: rosy and sweet. Her hair was in a bit of a mess and her clothes were wrinkled, but Sherlock couldn’t help but think how overtly domestic the scene was. Her in his flat coming out of his room having slept in his bed. What was he thinking?

“I don’t know…maybe a dictionary? Bible? Harry Potter?” Y/N muttered. 

Books. Right. The case. Sherlock nodded and ran over to his bookshelf and pulled out the allotted novels. His fingers found the pattern once again. “Fifteen. Entry one.” He mumbled to himself. His brow furrowed again as it always did once seeing the words. This time it was “add.” Not helpful. 

“Well, I’m going to go shower,” she looked down at her outfit. “And change. And eat. Just everything…” 

Sherlock nodded, paying her no mind. He flicked through the next book; it was Harry Potter. Same result. His last hope was the Bible. A book Sherlock wasn’t sure why he owned. He was in no way a religious man and never was. As he scanned page fifteen he recalled that he had used it for a case once. A serial killer had been using religious themes and reasonings. Sherlock didn’t think he had read a book as fast as he read the Bible. It took him twenty-three hours, twelve minutes, and thirty-three seconds. Then his eyes landed on the word, “I.” He closed the book with a thunderous thud. 

Sherlock tilted his head. He couldn’t have slammed the book that hard. He opened the book once more to snap it shut. The sound was like the squeak of a mouse compared to the noise from earlier. The sound came from John’s room. 

John emerged from his room. His eyes fell down to the pile of books that had appeared on the desk he called his bed last night. As if on cue, John’s neck was filled with a soreness. Just then he made a promise to himself to never fall asleep at that desk again.

“I need to get some air. We’re going out tonight,” Sherlock stated. 

“Actually, I’ve, er, got a date,” John smiled. 

“What?” Sherlock asked. He eyed John up and down. He was dressed quite nicely: a button-up and his beige trousers, the ones he only wore for nice occasions. Those occasions, Sherlock had noted, tended to dates with women. 

“It’s where two people who like each other go out and have fun,” John commented. 

Without missing a beat, Sherlock replied, “That’s what I was suggesting. You, me, and Y/N.” 

“No, it wasn’t ... at least I hope not,” John mumbled. Sherlock’s idea of fun was chasing criminals and digging through the bodies at St. Mungo's to find parts to experiment with. 

“Where are you taking her?” Sherlock asked. 

“Er, cinema,” John replied. 

“Oh, dull, boring, predictable.”

John scoffed. What did Sherlock know about dates?

Sherlock reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of paper. He unwrinkled it and handed it over to John who had a puzzled look on his face. 

“Why don’t you try this?” Sherlock suggested. 

John eyed his friend carefully. Sherlock seemed genuine enough. John looked down at the paper. It was a circus event. “Yellow Dragon Circus?” 

“In London for one night only,” Sherlock said. His voice presented the event as if it was an Elton John concert. 

John chuckled. “Thanks, but I haven't come to you for dating advice. Never have. Never will.” 

_________

There was a knock on Y/N’s door and then a hiss from Bjørn. A combination that could only mean one thing–Sherlock. 

“One second!” Y/N exclaimed. She hastily picked up the brown cat who was adamant about staring at the door. Bjørn crouched low. His ears perched back. He was waiting to pounce on the man who’d walk in sooner or later. But when he was lifted up from his defensive position,  Bjørn meowed in protest. His meows only grew louder when Y/N threw him into her bedroom, the door closing behind her. 

“Sherlock,” Y/N said. Her face was flushed from her struggle to place Bjørn away from Sherlock. 

“Y/N.” He replied. He looked her up and down as she stood in the doorway. He frowned slightly. “Can I come in?”

Y/N’s eyes widened and shifted to the side. “Yeah, just come on–” 

“I need to get some air. We’re going out tonight,” Sherlock stated. 

“Oh, okay?” Y/N replied. “Where’s John?”

“On a date,” Sherlock stated. 

“Right. Let me just…” She pointed to her room, where the tiny demon’s meowing had turned into a roar. 

She hurried to her room making sure to take extra care to open and close the door. Bjørn hissed at her for thwarting his attempts to catch Sherlock. She profusely apologized only earning a glare from Bjørn. 

“I’m going out,” Y/N explained. 

Bjørn’s eyes narrowed and his tail flicked side to side. It was a judgemental look. 

“What? I’m just going out with Sherlock.” 

Bjørn made a warning noise. It was a mix of a growl and a hum.

“Don’t judge me,” Y/N hissed back at her cat. “I’ll be back tonight. I promise.” 

Bjørn made one last attempt to sway his owner otherwise, before meowing in acceptance. Just this once Bjørn would allow it. Y/N chuckled to herself. She was talking to a cat. A cat who absolutely despised Sherlock. 

“Right, I’m going to open the door. Don’t pounce on Sherlock.”

Bjørn meowed in protest. 

“Bjørn. Please.”

Bjørn’s eyes narrowed before walking in a circle and plopping down on the bed. His furry brown head was tucked underneath his tail. Y/N smiled softly and gave Bjørn a quick kiss on the head followed by a small pat. “Best cat ever.” Bjørn purred in content. 

Without another word, Y/N left the room and accompanied Sherlock out into the cold evening air. It was a strange feeling just the two of them. Hardly, had they ever been alone, and when they were things tended to go sour except for last night. 

Y/N thought of that night. She thought of how she woke up in Sherlock’s bed. An unquenchable curiosity filled her. How did she get into Sherlock’s bed?

“Sherlock?” Y/N pondered.

“Yes?” He replied with a raise of his brow. His eyes looked upon her as she was lost in thought. Her mind carefully thought through her next words. 

“I remember falling asleep on the couch. How did I–”

“I carried you,” He replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Y/N couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, she quickly covered it up with a fake cough, hoping Sherlock hadn’t noticed. He did. “I always get a soreness in my spine when I sleep on that couch. Thought I’d save you the trouble.”

It was a white lie. A half-truth. Yes, Sherlock did want to save her the pain, but in all honesty, he just wanted to hold her. To carry her figure in his arms. To smell her hair and perfume without being seen as a creep. Sherlock, in all honesty, wanted to pretend. Pretend that he could have that–have her. To pretend he wasn’t obligated to follow through with his genius status; to be normal and willingly dance with emotions. Something that entirely scared Sherlock and Sherlock wasn’t one to be scared. How could he have let a chemical defect in the brain grab a hold of him? Sherlock chalked it up to a moment of weakness. Never again would he indulge himself in such things. Yet here he found himself, with her, without John, pretending that once again they were not colleagues, neighbours, that she didn’t have another to call home. And then Y/N smiled at him. A sight that Sherlock could never tire of. He adored the way her lips parted and the way her eyes crinkled in the corner. He cherished how her cheeks grew a slight shade of pink whenever she smiled, something he had only seen her do. He liked how her eyes sparkled with emotion. Her face was so expressive and Sherlock could sit all day and night watching her. His eyes could observe every detail and still find something new and beautiful about her. 

Sherlock tore his gaze away from her. His cheeks turned a shade darker than would be applicable to the chilliness of the evening. 

“Thank you,” Y/N said. 

“You’re welcome,” Sherlock responded. 

Y/N exhaled and the air in front of her turned into a fog. The warmth of her breath fought against the cold, only to disappear in defeat. “Where are we going?” Y/N asked. 

Sherlock sighed. He’d have to tell her. Tell her that they were going somewhere for the case. That, truthfully, wasn’t the case in the first place. He saw something she’d like. An event she'd like to go to as friends. Sherlock never knew he could hate a word so much. It astounded him that in all those hours spent flicking through books the most common word that was page fifteen, word one, was “friend.” Friend. Friend. Friend. Friend. It was a taunt. An unavoidable truth. But for now, it was enough. 

“Out,” was all Sherlock said. Again a half-truth. A white lie to push off the inevitable, but for now, Sherlock would pretend. That’s all he could do. 

_________

John was not taking dating advice from Sherlock. 

Dinner was a success. Sarah and he talked about everything from work to their worst dating experiences. A conversation that was meant to be fun.  However, somewhere along the candle-lit dinner and fantastic pasta, Sarah mentioned her worst dating experience involved a dinner, and then a trip to the cinemas. John paled on the spot and hurriedly excused himself to the bathroom. 

John most definitely was not taking dating experience from Sherlock. Yet there he stood in a bathroom stall, his phone out, and finger frantically ringing Sherlock’s number. 

In a hushed voice, John asked Sherlock for the number to the box office of that circus. He could practically hear Sherlock’s smug face as he told John he had already reserved tickets for him. John rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics. Sherlock practically rubbed it in John’s face. Information about the location and time were exchanged, and John found himself thanking Sherlock. John had thanked Sherlock for the dating advice he did not take. 

Within an hour, dinner had finished, and John was showing Sarah to the next course of their date, the circus. 

“It's been years since anyone took me to the circus,” Sarah admitted excitedly. 

The tone of her voice had made John smile. Maybe he’d start taking more dating advice from his friend. John thought about the idea and then brushed it off. This was a one-time thing. A moment of weakness. 

“Right, yes! Well, it’s ... a friend recommended it to me. He phoned up.” John replied. 

“Ah. What are they, a touring company or something?” Sarah asked. 

“I don’t know much about it,” John confessed. 

Suddenly their path was illuminated by a scarlet shade of red. Hung above them were red lanterns leading up to the building John could only have guessed was their destination. 

“I think they’re probably from China!” Sarah exclaimed.

John chuckled to cover up the tightness that had formed in his chest. “Yes, I think ... I think so, yes.” He was already thinking of ways to scold his friend if what he thought was gut was telling him was right. 

As they entered the building and found the box office, John noted the vast amount of people there. It surprised him. A one-night-only event. An event that Sherlock knew about just so happened to be quite popular. His friend wasn’t known for the popular sort of events. 

“Hi. I have, er, two tickets reserved for tonight.” John said to the box office manager. 

“And what’s the name?” They asked. 

“Er, Holmes,” John replied. 

The manager nodded and riffled through the numerous envelopes behind the counter. Their finger came to a halt over one and quickly handed it over to John. 

“Actually, I have four in that name.” The manager responded as they looked at John and Sarah. 

John shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. We only booked two.”

Suddenly a familiar voice appeared behind John. “And then I phoned back and got one for myself and Y/N as well,” Sherlock explained.

John looked back at his friend in disbelief. Behind the consulting detective was none other than Y/N. The look on her face as she looked at John and his date then Sherlock meant that John wouldn’t have to bother reprimanding his friend. She’d already had that covered. 

Sherlock ignored the pair of eyes that were glaring at him as he introduced himself to John’s date. “I’m Sherlock.” He turned around to Y/N, motioning for her to introduce herself. 

The death glare she had been giving Sherlock moments before had evaporated into a polite smile. “Hello, I’m Y/N.”

Sarah looked at Sherlock and Y/N then at John. “Er, Hi.” She reached out and shook Y/N’s hand. 

“Hello,” Sherlock smiled back. His fake polite smile. 

“Are you two here on a date as well?” Sarah asked, unsure of where to take the conversation. It was clear to her the two people standing in front of her knew John. 

Y/N’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to correct Sarah when Sherlock cut her off. 

“Yes.”

Y/N looked at Sherlock and tugged on his sleeve. “Excuse us…” Y/N said. Her tense voice betrayed her polite smile. 

She dragged Sherlock down the hall, far away from John and Sarah. “You said we were going out!” She hissed at him. 

“We are. Going out that is.”

“I’m not–Sherlock,” Y/N groaned. “We are crashing John’s date. It’s rude.” She then began to mutter to herself. Something along the lines of ‘why do I ever trust him with anything.’

She grumbled in frustration before setting her sights back on Sherlock. “Was this your plan all along?” Sherlock did not need to respond for Y/N to come to her conclusion. “Why are we here? Is it to spy on John? Or it is about th–”

“I thought you and John might’ve liked it. It is a Chinese circus after all. I was planning on taking just you and John, but then he had a date.”

Y/N chuckled at the response. “So you told him to take his date here?”

“Yes.”

“So this is not the case. At all?” Y/N asked. She had an underlying suspicion about the circus. The same one John had. 

“No,” Sherlock stated. It was a lie, but Y/N didn’t need to know that right now. 

Y/N eyed him carefully. “Sherlock, if you are lyi–”

“I’m not.” 

He most definitely was. 

Y/N sighed and placed her hands on her hips. “Alright. But if you are lying,” Sherlock opened his mouth to tell her once again that he was not. “Ah. Just let me finish. If you are lying, I will not speak to you for a week. That is a promise.” 

Sherlock’s brow furrowed in confusion. “How are you supposed to get your job done then?”

“I’ll figure it out. I’m a big girl,” she immediately replied. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and then agreed. He couldn’t go back on his word now. His word that he knew was a lie. A week with no words shared between Y/N and Sherlock. Not horrible. It could be worse, Sherlock thought. 

_______

Y/N and Sarah had accompanied each other to the loo, per Sarah’s request. John and Sherlock stood awkwardly on the stairs near the entrance to the theatre. Couples and other attendees walked past them. John’s eyes followed them. His mind was in debate as to whether to voice his opinions or not. 

“You couldn’t let me have just one night off?” John grumbled. 

Sherlock had to keep up the act. John would most assuredly tell Y/N and Sherlock would be damned to let the truth slip from anyone’s mouth but his. A determination that was immediately thrown out the window the minute John had asked. “Yellow Dragon Circus, in London for one day. It fits. The Tong sent an assassin to England …”

“... dressed as a tightrope walker. Come on, Sherlock, behave!” 

Sherlock leaned down to John and in a hushed voice said, “We’re looking for a killer who can climb, who can shin up a rope. Where else would you find that level of dexterity? Exit visas are scarce in China. They need a pretty good reason to get out of that country. Now, all I need to do is have a quick look around the place …”

“Fine. You do that; Drag Y/N along. I’m gonna take Sarah for a pint.”

Sherlock sternly looked at John. “I need your help.”

“I do have a couple of other things on my mind this evening!”

“Like what?” Sherlock asked curiously. 

John could only stare at his friend in disbelief. “You are kidding.”

“What’s so important?” Sherlock asked. There was a sense of urgency in his voice. 

John sighed. “Sherlock, I’m right in the middle of a date. D’you want me to chase some killer while I’m trying to …” John was not going to answer Sherlock. “Why’s Y/N here?” 

Sherlock went stiff. “If you need my help, then why is Y/N here? She’s capable enough–” John cut himself off. “Oh.”

“What?” Sherlock asked yet again. 

“You didn’t tell her.”

“Didn’t tell her what, John?” Sherlock questioned knowing full well what he hadn’t told Y/N. 

John rolled his eyes. “Right, Sherlock. You’ve got to stop-”

“Stop what Jo–”

“She’s taken, Sherlock! Don't think I noticed that bit there where you told Sarah you two were together this evening.” 

Sherlock turned his head away from John. His jaw was clenched. At that moment, Sherlock regretted having taught John how to read people. It seemed John could see right through Sherlock. “She has a wonderful boyfriend who she likes a lot. She’s your employee. Not to mention she’s our land lady’s niece–granddaughter, whatever, I’m not quite sure. But Sherlock, you couldn’t have picked the–”

Suddenly Sarah and Y/N emerged from the corner. John immediately flashed a pained smile, hoping he just hadn’t outed Sherlock. 

“Heyyy,” John called out. 

“Ready?” John asked Sarah. She nodded. Then he offered her his arm and then guided her into the theatre, but not before sending Sherlock a warning look. 

Sherlock and Y/N stood in the stairwell watching John and his date go. To say it was uncomfortable between the two of them as strangers passed them by, would be an understatement. It was as if the air turned into smoke, making it hard for Sherlock to breathe and even concentrate. He couldn’t help how his eyes fell on her hands which were fumbling with each other. He wanted to take a page out of John’s book. He wanted to offer her his arm and guide her in, but that expression John had given him told Sherlock otherwise. 

So when Sherlock noticed a warmth at his side, he couldn’t help but gasp. Y/N’s arms hugged his own, holding him close. Sherlock blinked. Just the touch of her hands through his coat lit a fire in his body. When her quiet voice broke through his spell, to ask if they should go in, Sherlock knew he was lost. She sensed his hesitancy and took it upon herself to guide Sherlock in and Sherlock knew, he’d rather be lost at her side as neighbours, friends, colleagues, or as a man and his land-lady’s grand-niece, than to not be lost at all. 

The two of them entered the performance area. There was a stage on one side of the hall. The red curtains were drawn with a thin layer of dust on them. In the middle of the room was a large circle. It was painted onto the worn-out floors. The room was lit by candlelight and lights from above that were so dim, one would think that they were not even on. Around the circle stood the guests. There were no seats in sight. Sherlock noticed John and Sarah on one end of the circle. John smiled as Sarah whispered something into his ear. 

Soon Sherlock found himself standing a few feet away from John and Sarah. Enough space that Y/N deemed to be comfortable, but not so much that they’d have front-row seats to John and Sarah’s date. Sherlock and Y/N stood towards the back of the crowd. Y/N had to manoeuvre her position until she had a clear view of the scene in front of her. 

All of a sudden there was the thundering of drums and YN couldn’t help the grin that appeared on her face. She was not going to let the guilt of possibly ruining John’s date take away from the experience in front of her. Then a woman with a heavily painted face and wearing traditional Chinese Opera clothing entered the circle. Y/N gasped at the sight. The colour and designs of the clothing astounded her. Sherlock chuckled slightly at her response. It was like watching a child on Christmas. 

The woman raised her hand into the air and the drummer finished his song. Then she walked over to a large object in the centre of the circle. It was covered with a white cloth. A cloth that was quickly removed to reveal a gigantic crossbow. Just like the dress the woman was wearing, the crossbow was painted and carved with intricate designs. Next, the woman picked up a large arrow. The silver edge glimmered in the dim light. Her careful hands presented the arrow to the audience earning some awes before loading it into the crossbow. The woman reached into her pocket and withdrew a feather. She placed it onto the crossbow. Instantly, the arrow was released. It flew across the room lodging into a target on the other side of the circle. 

While the other women and guests in the room gasped at the sight, startled by the sudden action, Sherlock found that Y/N only smiled. Her giddiness only grew. She turned to Sherlock and raised herself up on the tip of her toes. As a piece of instrumental music began to play, a new actor entered the scene, and Y/N whispered into Sherlock’s ear. 

“A Classic Chinese escapology act,” Y/N said softly. Sherlock beamed down at her. His breath caught as she glanced up at him. She pointed to the actor who was now being chained up to the target the arrow was lodged in moments before. 

She then pointed over to the crossbow. “The crossbow on a delicate string. The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires.”

Sherlock nodded taking in the information. He tried his very best to ignore the overstimulation his senses experienced being so close to her; Her smell, the sound of her voice, and the touch of her hand as she nudged him to look at certain aspects of the scene all drew him in deeper.  

He ignored the addition of padlocks on the chains that held the actor. He ignored the cry of the warrior as he showed the audience his predicament. Sherlock ignored the build-up of the music and the crashing of cymbals. He was only focused on her. Something very bad. Horrific event. He was here for the case. He should be watching the scene or observing the people, yet he could not tear his eyes away from Y/N. 

“Look,” Y/N exclaimed. She was practically jumping. Sherlock finally did look away. The woman had taken out a knife. Y/N had opened her mouth to explain when Sherlock interrupted her. 

“She splits the sandbag; the sand pours out; gradually the weight lowers into the bowl,” Sherlock whispered into Y/N’s ear. 

“How d-” She began. 

“I do my research,” Sherlock smiled. “Especially with things that those I care about enjoy.” 

Sherlock didn’t notice the flush that appeared on Y/N’s face. He was too busy hiding his own. His words had betrayed him. His mouth had spoken out of turn. He forced his attention onto the display in front of them. The drums and erhu playing couldn’t have been loud enough to drown out the sound of his beating heart. 

The Opera Singer does just what Sherlock had said – she reaches up to a small sandbag hanging on a long cable and stabs the knife into the bottom of the sack. The Sand began to pour out, grain by grain. As if on cue the warrior cried out once more. His body flailed in an attempt to escape the chains. As the sand continues to pour out of the bag, a weight attached to the other side begins to lower closer and closer to the crossbow. 

Suddenly the warrior whips out one hand. John is watching the weight lower, and Sarah now looks nervously at it as it crosses paths with the sandbag on its way up. They turn to look at the warrior as he gets his other hand free and starts tugging at the chains around his neck. The weight is now only a few feet above the bowl and Sarah clings tightly to John’s arm, grimacing. The warrior cries out again as he pulls at his chains and the weight gets ever closer. As it almost reaches the lip of the bowl the warrior loosens the chains around his neck and struggles to free himself. The sandbag raises all the way to the ceiling just as the weight crashes down. The arrow flung across the room. There was a thud. The arrow had hit the target. The warrior was nowhere to be seen. There was a cheer and the warrior emerged. The crowd let out a collective breath. All was fine. 

Y/N laughed along as cheers and applause filled the theatre. She hadn’t noticed Sherlock missing from her side. She hadn’t noticed Sherlock had to force himself away to the open stage door. He needed to clear his mind and focus on the case. 

A wave of silence fell over the crowd as the woman raised her hand into the air. For the first moment in the night, she opened her mouth. “Ladies and gentlemen, from the distant moonlight shores of the Yangtze River, we present for your pleasure the deadly Chinese bird-spider.”

Broken applause once again filled the air as the woman walked out of the circle. Suddenly a masked acrobat descended from the ceiling. His body rolled and swirled in the air as the silk red cloth around his waist unravelled. The audience gasped in excitement.  

“Did you see that?!” Y/N exclaimed. She turned to face Sherlock only to find him not there. Her face fell slightly. She looked around the crowd. Her eyes scanned the room watching closely to catch sight of a head of dark curls and sapphire blue eyes. Yet there was nowhere to be found. 

As the acrobat continued to amaze the crowd with high sky high feats, Y/N withdrew from the crowd. Her eyes were on the sudden wave that rippled out from the curtain on the stage. The red fabric danced out from a single point. A crack in the red wall. There was a feeling in her mind; a feeling that it was Sherlock. A feeling that this wasn’t for pure entertainment. A feeling that this was all for the case, as everything was with Sherlock. A feeling that told her she should have left when she had the chance. A feeling that told her, her cat was right. 

A feeling that became all too real when she saw Sherlock fly out from underneath the curtain. His back came crashing to the floor on his back. The masked warrior from before was on top of him. A silver knife in hand. John, the closest to the scene, lunged at the man knocking him off Sherlock. The knife flew from the attacker's hand. Y/N looked around the room as the attacker set his sights on John. Her eyes found a broom in the corner of the room and she darted over to retrieve it. 

Everyone else in the room fled from the scene. The attacker, having stunned John, turned back to Sherlock who now stood shakingly on his feet. The attacker at some point had found another weapon–a sword. His arms were raised high into the air and aimed at Sherlock. A killing blow, but not before Y/N whacked him with the broom. The man grunted out in pain and swung the weapon at her. She dodged the attack and lodged the broom in the man’s side with a bruising force. Stunned, she hit him again, successfully knocking him in the head, and labelling him unconscious. 

Y/N stands up breathlessly. Her hand on the broom tightened, unwillingly to let it go. Her eyes were on the unconscious form of their attacker. Sherlock limped over to her. His hand covered her grip on the broom. His warmth begged her to release it. 

“It’s over. We’re okay,” Sherlock whispered to her. She closed her eyes tightly. Her grip was unwavering. “Look at me…please.” He placed his hands on the sides of her face. His thumb rubbed circles on her cheek. 

She opened her eyes. Those tear-filled eyes met Sherlock’s. He swore she leaned into his touch. He could swear time froze as her breath returned to normal. Soon, she nodded and dropped the broom on the floor with a clang. 

Behind them, Sarah ran over to John. Her hands hovered over his body to make sure he was okay. John was able to subdue her worry and then turned to Sherlock who was now removing the attacker’s shoe. A black lotus flower was tattooed on the man’s heel. 

Y/N couldn’t help the tear that slid down her cheek. Her eyes met Sherlock’s. They were sad and disappointed. She had trusted Sherlock. He knew. He let her trust him. He let her believe that they were just going out. That this wasn’t the case. He couldn’t help but question why she never knew. She should have known. She should have walked away. She should have broken the mirage and stopped him from pretending. She bit her lip and shook her head at him. The silence had begun. A week from now she’d speak to Sherlock again. Though there was a thought in Sherlock’s mind, that she’d never speak to him again. The look in her eyes said it all. 

_____

“ I sent a couple of cars. The old hall is totally deserted,” muttered Dimmock. He rubbed his face and grumbled to himself. 

“Look, I saw the mark at the circus – that tattoo that we saw on the two bodies: the mark of the Tong,” Sherlock explained. 

Dimmock turned around harshly on his heels. His eyes bore into Sherlock. 

“Lukis and Van Coon were part of a-a smuggling operation. Now, one of them stole something when they were in China; something valuable.” John added. 

“These circus performers were gang members sent here to get it back.” Sherlock finished. 

“Get what back?” Dimmock hissed. 

Sherlock bit his lip and refused to reply. 

John sighed. “...We don’t know.” 

“You don’t know.” Dimmock gasped in disbelief. “Mr Holmes …I’ve done everything you asked. Lestrade, he seems to think your advice is worth something. I gave the order for a raid. Please tell me I’ll have something to show for it – other than a massive bill for overtime.”

Sherlock’s silence said it all. Dimmock sighed and collapsed into his chair. His hand worked hard to remove the stress lines that had already begun to appear on his face. 

This case was going to be the death of him. 

________

The comforting sight of 221B was not a comfort at all. They all held a collective sigh of defeat when they entered Sherlock and John’s flat. Sarah was still in tow and, to Sherlock’s surprise, so was Y/N. Though not a word was shared between the two of them as she brushed by him to brew some tea. 

“They’ll be back in China by tomorrow,” John groaned. 

“No, they won’t leave without what they came for. We need to find their hide-out; the rendezvous,” Sherlock said. His voice was tight. He refused to give up. Instead, he focused on the photos on the wall. Their yellow code bared at him. “Somewhere in this message, it must tell us.”

Sarah looked around the room. Her coat was still on. “Well, I think perhaps I should leave you to it,” she told John. 

John turned to her. “No, no, you don’t have to go ... You can stay.”

“Yes, it would be better to study if you left now,” Sherlock uttered. He looked back at Sarah and John. His eyes noticed John’s glare. He couldn’t handle any more anger tonight. “Kidding,” Sherlock smiled in his fake manner. “Please stay if you’d like.”

Y/N scoffed from the kitchen. Her hand removed the tea bag and tossed it into the trash. Sherlock lowered his eyes to the floor. Sarah looked nervously toward Sherlock and Y/N. She caught Y/N’s eye and smiled awkwardly.

“Is it just me, or is anyone else starving?” She asked. 

Sherlock closed his eyes and pinched his nose. “Oh, God.” 

John smiled back at Sarah and entered the kitchen. He opened the fridge to find it almost empty apart from a couple of bottles, and a can containing an eyeball lying on a shelf. He sighed. 

Y/N peered over her shoulder at John. “Hey,” She whispered. “Take out. On me.” John smiled and tried to refuse her offer but quickly gave in knowing Y/N wouldn’t let him. He watched her as she stepped out of the flat to call the take-out place. He noted the way Sherlock’s eyes followed her before returning to the photos before him. 

“So this is what you do, you and John, Y/N. You solve puzzles for a living.”

Sherlock bit his lip. “Consulting detective,” He corrected. 

“Oh,” Sarah replied before backing away from Sherlock. She strolled over to John who sat in the kitchen. He continued to frantically look through the cabinets making a mental note to task Y/N for getting groceries for which he made sure she’d get a pay raise. 

John cracked open another cabinet and found a small bag of cheese puffs. He quickly picked a clean bowl and poured the puff into it. 

Suddenly the cheerful voice of Mrs Hudson popped into the room. John felt a wave of relief wash over him as the woman carried a plate of snacks with her. 

“Thank you so much,” John said. His voice was full of gratitude towards the elderly lady. 

Mrs Hudson smiled and waved her hand dismissing them thanks. “I’ve done a punch, and a bowl of nibbles.” She explained before placing the tray on the table. 

“Mrs Hudson, you’re a saint!” John muttered. 

“All Y/N she came down and told me. If it was Monday, I’d have been to the supermarket!” She continued. 

“No; thank you! Thank you!” John repeated. 

Mrs Hudson quietly excused herself, allowing John and Sarah…and Sherlock some privacy. 

As John and Sarah snacked on the treats Mrs Hudson provided, Sherlock continued to examine the photos. 

“So these numbers – it’s a cypher,” Sarah stated. 

“Exactly,” Sherlock said. His voice was tight. 

“...And each pair of numbers is a word.” She continued. 

John and Sherlock looked at Sarah in astonishment. “How did you know that?”

Sarah chuckled. She walked over to the photos on the wall and pointed to the photo. “Well, two words have already been translated, here.”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. There were indeed translations. “John.” Sherlock beckoned. “John, look at this.”

John walked over to Sherlock. 

“Soo Lin at the museum – she started to translate the code for us. We didn’t see it!” Sherlock exclaimed. He pulled the photo close. “NINE” “MILL,” He read. 

“Does that mean ‘millions’?” John asked. 

“Nine million quid. For what?” Sherlock asked. He walked over to the coat rack and pulled on his coat and scarf. “We need to know the end of this sentence.”

“Where are you going?” John wondered. 

“To the museum; to the restoration room. Oh, we must have been staring right at it!” Sherlock answered. 

“At-at what?” Sarah questioned Sherlock. 

“The book. The book – the key to cracking the cypher! Soo Lin used it to do this! Whilst we were running around the gallery, she started to translate the code. It must be on her desk.” Sherlock explained and without another word he had left 221B. 

________

John and Sarah were quick to start up a conversation after Sherlock’s disappearance. A reason for Y/N to re-emerge from downstairs. She entered the room and told John and Sarah that takeout was on the way, before laying down on the couch. 

John was worried that he’d replaced Sarah’s candidate for the worst date. In his Johnly manner, he found a way to apologize for the night only to have it turned into a bonding moment for the two of them. 

“Yeah! No, absolutely. I mean, well, a quiet night in just-just what the doctor ordered.” Sarah joked. 

“Ha-ha-ha” John smiled back.

“Er, I mean, I’d love to go out of an evening and wrestle a few Chinese gangsters, you know, generally, but a girl can get too much.”

“No, okay. You’ve got me there,” John replied. 

Their laughter was cut off by knocking from downstairs. John stood up to go fetch the door only to have Y/N commanding him to return to Sarah. 

“I’ll get the take-out,” She muttered before sending John back to Sarah. John was ever the gentleman but sometimes Y/N really wished John knew how to take help every so often. 

She heard John and Sarah fighting over who set the table. A problem she wished to have instead of the manchild she called her boss. With a sigh, she ran her hands through her hair. It was a mess, to say the least. From sleeping in late that day to having fought a man with a sword with a broom was not her idea of “going out” as Sherlock had put it. 

Soon her steps came to a halt at the door. She turned the knob and swung it open. She doesn’t bother to take notice of the hooded man in front of her. She doesn’t notice there is no food in his hands as she rummages through her pockets for her wallet. 

“Sorry to keep you,” She apologized. “How much is it?”

“Do you have it?” The man in front of her asked. He had a thick Chinese accent. 

Y/N’s blood turned cold. “What?” Her voice trembled, praying that she had heard the man incorrectly.  

“Do you have the treasure?” The man asked. His voice was low and threatening like a growl from a dog. 

Y/N could only freeze as she saw the man remove a pistol from his side. Her lungs ceased to breathe and her vision turned black as a painful impact hit her head. 

______

The door to 221B slammed with a force that shook the walls. Sherlock ran up the stairs. In his hand was the translation of the code. “John! John! I’ve got it!” Sherlock rejoiced. 

He ran into the kitchen of his flat. The table was set for dinner. The punch and snacks Mrs Hudson had brought up earlier lay untouched. The table is empty of its occupants. He turned around to look in the living room. “John the cypher! The book! It’s the London A to Z that they’re using…”

Sherlock feels his face grow cold. The triumphant smile on his face falls. John wasn’t there. Neither was his date. Sherlock became utterly aware of how quiet the flat was. There was no shuffling of paper, no giggling, nothing. 

Then Sherlock finds himself wandering down the stairs and towards a door. He finds himself listening in. It’s too quiet there as well. Sherlock knows he shouldn’t open her door. Sherlock knows that Y/N would be furious for him breaking into her flat again. But it was better for her to be mad than to not be there at all. 

Sherlock’s worry only grew as he scavenged the flat for any sign of her. Nothing. Sherlock’s lungs collapsed as the air grew tight. He quickly reached into his pocket. His phone called the number and finally, he heard a noise. A buzzing from the other side of the living room. It was her phone. Sherlock’s mind began to run wild. 

No. No. No. No. No. 

The memory of the museum. The utter terror at the sound of the gun from the distance. The deadly sound from the room in which she was last seen. The image had pictured to find her flashed in his mind once again. Sherlock gasped out in pain. 

No. No. No. No. No. 

He isn’t sure if he’s saying it out loud. His thoughts and words merge into one. His only thought was her. He ran out of the flat and froze in his step. He scolds himself for not having seen it sooner. Along the hallway was that sickening yellow spray paint. The depiction on the wall was enough to break Sherlock. He bit his lip to muffle the cry. 

He had broken the code. He knew what it meant. DEAD MAN. 

There was no John. No, Sarah. But worst of all, no Y/N. 

The words burned into his brain alongside the image of her lifeless body. 

No. No. No. No. No. 

He could still save her, Sherlock told himself. Still, save them. He gripped his hair tightly. The pain shook him from his terror just long enough for him to focus. He pulled out the translated photo once again. 

“NINE MILL FOR JADE PIN DRAGON DEN BLACK …” Sherlock read. “... TRAMWAY.”

His eyes widened as he muttered the word “Tramway” once again. 

Sherlock’s focus dissipated as a fog clogged up his mind. His watery blue eyes threatened to spill out. His hands crinkled the photo tightly. “Oh, Christ,” he whimpered. 

Think! Sherlock, Think!

The tramway. He needs to find the tramway. 

Sherlock rushed upstairs with a speed unknown to man. His eyes scoured the shelves landing on the folded map of London. He scurried over to the dining table. The map tore as his hands scrambled to get it open. Once it lays flat, Sherlock takes a finger and hunts for the tramway. 

“There.” He slammed the table. Without another word, he’s gone. Fear fills his body. A fear that if he says anything, thinks, breathes, and doesn’t put every ounce of his will into finding them–to finding her, that they’d be gone. Sherlock would be all alone again. His heart, mind and soul were torn open for all to see. The man who’d let everything he cared about to get stolen away from him. Sherlock would be damned if he ever let that happen just like he was damned for loving her. 

______

***

There was a dull ache. Not the needles and pins kind of ache, but the ache as if the world turned upside down and inside out with no warning. Y/N’s head throbbed as light from a nearby fire lit the room. Except, she wasn’t in a room. It was cold and wet. The walls were curved as if she was in a cave. Everything was dark except the fire in, what Y/N could clearly see, was a dustbin. 

“Y/N?” John whispered. 

“John?” Y/N winced as she tried to look around for the noise. Just behind her sat John and Sarah. Both of whom were tied to chairs. It took Y/N a moment to realize that she always was confined to a chair. Dark rope coiled around her ankles, wrists, and torso like black snakes. 

“Are you alright?” John asked. 

Y/N flashed him her best I’m just peachy face, but then realized her friend couldn’t actually have the pleasure of seeing it. “Does it look like I’m alright John?” She closed her eyes and tried to yank her wrists out of their trap. 

Before John could answer another appeared. A clear and commanding voice echoed off the walls. 

“A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket,” a woman’s voice recited. 

Y/N raised her head to the voice. She looked strangely familiar. The tracksuit she wore and those sunglasses. It was the woman who had been taking photos of her and John all over London. 

The woman approached Y/N and held up her chin. Behind her, Y/N could see two men. Their build reminded Y/N of the performers at the circus. The woman frowned slightly at the sight of the dried blood on Y/N's head. She tsked before moving to John and Sarah. As she left Y/N’s side, the two men replaced her. They whipped the chair around to face the other direction. Y/N could see John and Sarah clearly now. Out of the three of them, only Sarah was gagged. She was terrified. Her eyes were red from crying and her hair was tangled up. 

“A Chinese proverb, Mr Holmes,” The woman explained. 

John looked up at the woman confused. “I ... I’m not Sherlock Holmes.” 

The woman smiled humorously. “Forgive me if I do not take your word for it.”  She reached down and picked up John’s pockets. “Tickets under Sherlock Holmes’ name. A cheque for five thousand pounds made out in the name of Mr Sherlock Holmes.” 

“Yeah, he gave me that to look after,” John explained. 

“Debit card in the name of S. Holmes,” The woman continued. 

“Since when did you–?!” Y/N muttered. 

“After the row with the chip and pin machine!!” John replied frantically. 

The woman looked between Y/N and John.

 “I realize what this looks like, but I’m not him.”

“We heard it from your own mouth,” stated the woman. 

Now John was really confused. “What?”

“I am Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone ...” She repeated back to him. 

John groaned. “Did I really say that?” John chuckled weakly as Y/N looked at him in disbelief. 

“I s’ppose there’s no use me trying to persuade you I was doing an impression…” John tried to say, but the woman silenced him with the raise of her pistol. He leaned back and closed his eyes prepared for the shot to fire. It never came. 

“I am Shan.” The woman introduced herself. 

“You’re ... you’re Shan,” Y/N muttered under her breath. “我有话要对你说.” (I have words to say to you.) Her anger from all the pain Shan had caused seethed through her voice. Y/N thought of Soo Lin. She thought of all those victims whose blood was on Shan’s hands. 

Shan only offered Y/N a glance before turning back to John. “Three times we tried to kill you and your companion, Mr Holmes. What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?”

She lifted her free hand to cock the pistol. Shan smiled and pulled back the trigger. 

“No!” Y/N screamed. 

Shan only chuckled. The barrel was empty. “It tells you that they’re not really trying.”

Then Shan motioned to the men behind her and one of them scurried to her side. He presented her with a clip. The metal of the bullets caught the light of the fire. Shan wasted no time loading the gun and cock it. The weapon found a resting place near John’s head. 

“Not an empty gun. There are bullets now.”

“Okay,” John whispered. 

“If we wanted to kill you, Mr Holmes, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive…Do you have it?”

“Do I have what?” John questioned. 

“The treasure.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” John confessed.

Shan turned away from John and walked back over to Y/N. She looked at the men who nodded in understanding. Moments later the crossbow from the circus appeared. The arrow was already loaded. I would prefer to make certain.

“Everything in the West has its price, and the price for her life …” She lifted Y/N’s head to the light. “ ... information.” 

John’s eyes widened. “No. Please–”

The men lift up Y/N’s chair and place her in front of the crossbow. She can’t help the sound that escaped her mouth. It was a cry. A plea. She’d had her life put on the line too many times. Each time Sherlock was there. How she prayed that Sherlock would come. The feeling of safety that came from his arms. Tears spilt down her cheeks as many thoughts flew about her mind. All the if’s that came if Sherlock couldn’t make it in time. All the if’s that came if the arrow lodged its way into her heart. 

“Where’s the hairpin?” Shan demanded. “The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling. We already had a buyer in the West, and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London and you, Mr Holmes, have been searching.”

John looked at Y/N’s frantic attempts to free herself from her bonds. “Please. Please, listen to me. I’m not ... I’m not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me. I haven’t found whatever it is you’re looking for.”

“I need a volunteer from the audience!” Shan exclaimed. 

“No, please. Please,” John begged.

“Ah, thank you, lady. Yes, you’ll do very nicely.” Shan patted Y/N on the head. Then she walked over to the crossbow. A silver knife glimmered in the firelight. It was raised into the air. The sharp blade had pierced its way into a sandbag. Just like the display at the circus. 

Grain by grain the sand fell. The weight lowered closer and closer to the crossbow. Every second was an inch closer to death. Y/N’s skin began to burn. The snake-like rope rubbed against her wrists. The delicate skin broke, but the pain was nothing compared to what awaited her. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. From the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes’ pretty companion in a death-defying act.”

“Please!” John cried out. He was crying as he fought his own bondage. Desperate to reach Y/N before it was too late. 

“You’ve seen the act before. How dull for you. You know how it ends.” Shan complained. She walked over to Y/N and placed a black origami flower on her lap. 

“I’m not Sherlock Holmes!” John screamed. 

“I. Don’t. Believe. You.” Shan enunciated. 

“You should, you know,” A voice thundered. It echoed off the walls and silence fell upon the group.

Y/N gasped. She knew that voice. She’d know that voice anywhere. 

Shan spun around. She darted around the room to look for the source. 

“Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him,” Sherlock stated. 

Y/N couldn’t the shaky sigh of relief she felt. Sherlock was here. 

Shan raised her gun defensively. 

“How would you describe me, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?” Sherlock asked. 

“Late?” Y/N trembled. 

Sherlock felt his throat clench up at the sound of her voice. “That’s semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand metres per second.”

“Well?” Shan asked. 

“Well …” Sherlock chastised. “... the radius curvature of these walls is nearly four meters. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you.”

Suddenly Sherlock burst out of the shadows. There was a bang, as he knocked over the dustbin with the fire. The light snuffled out. Darkness took over. 

Y/N could hear Shan’s breaths getting heavy. She could hear the trickling of the sand as it continued to spill out of the bag. The darkness triggered something in Y/N. Once again she was in the cabinet in the museum and the room chained to the heater. Fear overtook her body. Darkness and death had something in common they would disappear at the sign of light. Now all Y/N could do was pray that her light–Sherlock would free her. 

Y/N cried out at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. 

“Shhh. It’s me.” Sherlock whispered. 

“Sherlock…” Y/N whimpered. His hands trailed down her arms and found her wrists. His fingers made quick work of the bonds on her wrists. His hand moved up to find the rope around her torso when he was yanked away from her. 

“Sherlock!” Y/N shrieked. 

There was a gagging noise. Sherlock was being strangled. Once again his lungs began to scream. It could have been from the lack of oxygen. That vital compound his brain needed to pump the blood and fight back. But that was not the case. Every molecule in his body screamed out for her. The grains of sand piled higher and higher. The weight was ever closer to the crossbow. The arrow was just moments from stealing the place in her heart that was meant for him. 

By some will of God, Sherlock was able to knock his attacker away. He scrambled back over to Y/N. His hands were a little bit less calculated and sure as he reached to undo the knots. Again Sherlock is pulled from her. The struggle for her life as well as his continued. 

John observed the struggle of shadows and the gleam of the arrow. Sherlock wasn’t going to make it. John groaned as he did his best to stumbled forward. A mixed effort of carrying and dragging the chair across the floor to Y/N. 

There was a thud and John fell to the floor. Sherlock grunted. Sarah whimpered. Y/N sobbed. Her body had given up. Her arms no longer flailed. The chair no longer creaked. Her mind was already made up. The arrow would become a part of her. Staked into her heart, next to her love of records and her stubbornly perfect cat.  

Suddenly there was a grunt from beside her. John had freed his foot just enough to kick her chair to the floor. Y/N cried out in pain as her arm bared most of the impact. The weight dropped. The arrow released. Its path changed from Y/N’s heart to Sherlock’s attacker’s chest. 

Sherlock was on his feet and next to Y/N within the blink of an eye. His mind was foggy from the lack of oxygen. His hand ripped off the rope that tied her to the chair. In an instant, he wrapped his arms around her. Her body pulled flush against him. His head was buried in her neck. His hand was around the pulse point on her wrist. He could feel her heart beating. Frantic, but alive. She clutched onto Sherlock. Her grip made no intent to let him go. 

“It’s all right,” Sherlock soothed more for himself than the woman in his arms. “You’re gonna be all right. It’s over now. It’s over.” His free hand found its way up and down her back in a comforting manner. 

John groaned out in pain beside them. Sherlock looked down at his friend. A grateful look flickered in his eyes. John nodded and smiled softly back up at Sherlock. 

“Mind if you…?” John croaked. He looked down at his tied hands. 

Sherlock nodded and began to pull away from Y/N. 

“Don’t go!” She whimpered. Her grip tightened on his shirt causing wrinkles to form in the fabric. 

Sherlock closed his eyes and leaned back into Y/N. His lips found the crown of her head. “Just going to untie John.” He whispered into her ear. A moment later her grip was loosened. Soon John was free and by Sarah’s side. She hugged him once she was freed. 

“Don’t worry. Next date won’t be like this,” John murmured. Sarah laughed. It was a sob-laugh. 

Y/N was back in Sherlock’s arms. She snuggled into his side. Her grip once again demanded his presence, but Sherlock didn’t mind. For once he didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to pretend she needed him as much as he needed her. He didn’t have to lie to himself to hold her close. So he sat there on the floor of the cold and wet tunnel. His body was safe and warm, as he rocked Y/N back and forth. Praying to god that he would never have to pretend again. 

________

Life had seemed to die down for the occupants of 221B Baker Street. Their lives once again became arbitrary: the daily newspapers on the table for Sherlock to read at breakfast, John scrambling out of bed to get to work at the clinic, Y/N plating some eggs and bacon, Mrs Hudson making tea, and Bjørn collecting all the love and pets he could get from those he did not despise. 

It was one of these fine mornings when Y/N was making breakfast, John sat at the table drinking his tea, and Sherlock read the paper that all seemed at peace. There were no cases. No murderers on the run. Just John, Sherlock, and Y/N. As it always seemed to be. The case of the blind banker far behind them with their pockets full from the check Sebastian had written for Sherlock, and the mystery of the hairpin solved. The vow of silence was long forgotten. 

Sherlock smirked as he read the front page of the news. “Who wants to be a million-hair,” He read to the group. 

John chuckled. “Over a thousand years old and it’s sitting on the assistant’s bedside table every night.”

“Van Coon didn’t know its value; didn’t know why they were chasing him,” Sherlock muttered. His hands found the warm cup of tea Y/N had placed in front of him earlier. 

“Hmm. Should’ve just got her a lucky cat. Right, hubby?” Y/N said as she placed down breakfast. She sent John a wink earning a groan from him. 

“Not this again.”

“It’s better than you holding up a can of beans,” Y/N retorted. 

Sherlock smiled at the two of them. After their laughter subsided and thanks were given to Y/N, they began to eat their breakfast. Sherlock played with the eggs on his plate. His fork barely missed the opportunity to pick up anything worth substance. 

“You mind, don’t you?” John asked Sherlock as he stuffed his mouth with bacon. 

“What?” Sherlock questioned. 

John put down his fork. “That she escaped – General Shan. It’s not enough that we got her two henchmen.”

“It must be a vast network, John; thousands of operatives. We barely scratched the surface,” Sherlock sighed. 

“You cracked the code, though, Sherlock; and maybe Dimmock can track down all of them now that he knows it,” Y/N added. 

“No. No. I cracked this code; all the smugglers have to do is pick up another book,” Sherlock explained. 

Their arbitrary routine began once again: Sherlock picked up the newspaper, John ate his breakfast, and Y/N looked out the window. The morning sun filtered through the window. The sound of sirens was heard in the distance. London was very much alive. 

Y/N thought of Sherlock’s words. He was right. They had barely scratched the surface. They had scratched the surface of something that, she thought, was meant to be left alone. 

__________

In a room somewhere sits Shan. The only light in the room was the screen of her computer. Her image appeared on the screen next to a blacked-out box. It read “No image available”.  

“Without you – without your assistance – we would not have found passage into London. You have my thanks,” Shan spoke to the computer. 

‘M: GRATITUDE IS MEANINGLESS’ The computer typed back. ‘M: IT IS ONLY THE EXPECTATION OF FURTHER FAVOURS’ 

“We did not anticipate ... we did not know this man would come – this Sherlock Holmes. He had assistants. A man and a woman,” Shan explained. Her face flashed with concern. “And now your safety is compromised.”

The computer beeped. 

‘M: THEY CAN NOT TRACE THIS BACK TO ME’

“I will not reveal your identity,” Shan promised. 

‘M: I AM CERTAIN.’

Not another word is uttered from Shan’s mouth. Her body lay on the floor of the dark room. The computer screen had gone black. A bullet hole in the head of Shan.

______

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______

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

Mary Todd pt 18

The Last Chapter

ao3 Beginning Previous

Marinette did not regret moving up her trip to Themyscira. She and everyone around her agreed that she needed to complete her training with Hippolyta as soon as possible. Still there was one thing she did regret.

“You’ll come back soon, right?” Lian said as she tried to squeeze all of the air out of her.

“Of course,” Marinette said, “I think I’ll be coming back to Gotham many, many more times. And I’ll always make time to see you.”

Lian nodded and released her as she went to stand by Artemis. Marinette then turned to Jason and sighed. “I feel like we just found each other.”

Jason shrugged a sad, but proud smile never giving way, not even as he pulled her into another bone crushing hug. “And we’ll find each other again. As many times as it takes. Now, go and show those Amazons what we Todd’s are made of!”

Marinette laughed, whipping away her stay tears as they separated. “Never change Jay-Jay,” she said. “And don’t forget, my parents want you in Paris in no less than one week’s time.”

“Got it!” Jason laughed. As the took one more moment to just look at each other.

“I’ll miss you,” she finally said.

“Miss you too Pixie,” he said, and he kissed her forehead before stepping back.

Marinette looked around the Cave at everyone assembled. Her family had practically doubled in the short time sense she had left Paris, and she couldn’t be happier. They had each said their good byes, and she had thanked them each in turn. But there was still one person left. Finally, her eyes landed on Roy, who was watching her with such love and adoration, Marinette barely knew what to do with it.

She opened her mouth trying to find the right words, but in the end, she didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, he did as he stepped forward, taking her head in his hands and kissing long and deep. Marinette melted into it, smiling in spite of herself as everything else vanished around them.

“Get a room,” someone shouted.

“Lian don’t look,” some else called.

Someone pretended to gag in the corner of the cave, but Marinette didn’t hear any of them. All of her senses were focused on this moment, with this man who needed her. Who loved her. Who was letting her go, but still chose to hold her. Roy ended the kiss but still kept her close as he whispered, “I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Promise?” Marinette said still smiling.

“All we need is right now,” he said. “That’s enough.”

“Time to go,” Wonder Woman declared, as Donna and Cassie put the last of her bags onto the jet.

Marinette separated herself from Roy, and yet despite the fact that she was saying good bye she couldn’t stop smiling. Yes, she was leaving, but she had a mission. She had two homes. And she was loved. And there was an amazing man waiting for her when she got back. What more could she want or ask for. She was moving forward with her life, and for the first time in a long time, her path was clear.

So as she waved good bye, she smiled and called, “See you soon!”

THE END

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[akamikazae]

Love me Mercilessly 🍁Kakashi x Akami🍁 Chapter 32: Loose toothed and tight lipped word Count: 19k tw: mentions of blood/suicide, sexual content, previous chapters: Ao3 or under my tag ‘Love me Mercilessly’

Kakashi struggles with what he wants and what he thinks he deserves, his internal conflict causes him to revert to old behaviors. Sasuke looses the last piece of his childhood and Akami doesn't want to let it go. But it also comes with a sudden, jarring unexpected realization, one she won't admit to.

Kakashi stopped by Akami’s office, she wanted him to see it now that she hauled off all the junk and dusted out the cobwebs. Her very own office with a desk and a window with a view. She even had a cup filled with loose mismatched pens perched on the corner of the desk. The back and side walls were a muted emerald green, offset with a warm beige that paired with the rich natural floors and mahogany furnishings. It felt more like a library than an office. 

“Look!” Akami said, “I’m a real person now, with a real job and a whole desk!” She hopped up to sit on the edge of said desk. “And I don’t get blood under my fingernails or nothing!”

Kakashi smiled, he wouldn’t know—she painted them now, she didn’t before because the nail polish would chip off an hour into training. Now they’re nice and trim and her cuticles are clean, today they were painted a cool shade of red.  Sometimes red nails looked a little trashy but it was a color that suited her skin, she looked especially pretty when she tucked her bangs behind her ears or scratched the side of her nose, red made her eyes shine and the mauve markings around her eyes pop. 

It was crazy how varied one single color could be, like the vivid incredulous red of his fathers blood. The blood he scrubbed out of his own living room floor. That stained his fathers shirt and dripped from his famous blade. That red seeped into the weave of the tatami and spread out turning a putrid pink. And when he came home from the hospital that once rich gooey blood dried on his hands in crumbly burgundy flecks. 

The red of her nails was pretty, not grotesque or trashy. It made him happy that she didn’t have to have blood build up in her nail beds and that her hands weren’t dry from washing out stains with bleach and peroxide. She was a normal person with a normal person job. (As normal as Shinobi jobs got anyway). He didn’t know how he’d fit into her normal life. Would he sit in a framed photograph on her desk beside the one of Sasuke? Or would he be another case file, stored in the tall black cabinet by the door. And Kakashi wondered—right as she leaned back on her palm and crossed one leg over the other—if he’d feel like a normal person inside her. 

His eyes followed the curve of her legs, accentuated by the fit of her normal pants, not at all suited for combat. He closed the distance between them two steps at a time, she uncrossed her legs and invited him in. Akami unzipped his Jonin vest, he wore it all the time, just because everyone already knew he was Anbu didn’t stop him from pretending he wasn’t. 

Kakashi leaned in enough that he could still look at the pretty golden yellow of her eyes, and the parting of her lips as she sighed softly. Her knees braced over his hips. He slipped his mask down to feel her breath fan across his face and brushed his thumb over her plump bottom lip. “Fuck me on my whole desk” she whispered to the hand cupping her jaw, her secrets felt safest there. 

Kakashi leaned in, taking her lip between his. “Yes Ma’am,” he spoke into her mouth. He felt her lips curl and he cradled the back of her head, angling it back to deepen the kiss. 

She ran her hands up under his shirt to feel his chest. She loved and also hated how broad and full he was. It made her feel safe in a way she didn’t think any one person could ever make her feel—she splayed her fingers over his pecs and worried for a minute that Kakashi and that feeling would slip away, oozing through the space between her fingers. 

He kneaded the edge of her hip and he pulled away from her lips with a pop. He hoisted her legs over his sides and laid her back. He swatted the cup of pens to the floor with the back of his hand not breaking eye contact. It made her laugh, and Kakashi wished she had another cup of crap he could unnecessarily swat away just to hear it again. Akami buried her smile into his jaw, nipping and kissing at his neck.

He ran his hands up the sides of her waist and beneath her shirt, hiking it up over her bra. He mimicked her and placed small pecks from her collar bone to her stomach—It was strong like the rest of her except for a tiny part just below her bellybutton, beside that giant sweeping scar. The scar that crept up over her high waisted pants, she helped him shimmy them down. He kissed the jagged pink flesh wet and tender, scraping her skin with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. She hummed her approval and combed her fingers through his hair. He could smell that she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. Kakashi hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants and tugged them all the way off. 

He kissed her over her panties, they were sleek and red–not silk but a material a lot like silk–silk wouldn’t be practical and it made him like them even more. She whined from the back of her throat when he did it again, the bright red satin turned a shade darker from his lips. “These are awfully pretty to wear to work,” he said. 

Akami could feel the thrum of his voice between her legs, it fluttered around her stomach.  “Who said they were for work,” 

He smirked as she struggled to keep her voice composed and he got down on his knees. He pulled her hips to the edge of the desk and hooked her knees over his shoulders. Kakashi slipped her pretty panties to the side. He put his mouth on her and felt stupid for imagining that it would make him feel normal. 

Her painted nails raked through his hair and she tugged when he dragged the flat of his tongue from bottom to top, gathering her arousal and sealing his lips to her clit. She made this gagging gurgling sound so he sucked harder and slipped a finger–and then a second inside her. Her hips jumped and he dug his other hand into the meat of her thigh. “Fuck..” he panted, “You taste so good”.. .being normal was overrated.

Akami’s orgasm started just behind her belly button then hit hard against her pelvic floor. 

Kakashi curled his fingers and she whined soft and high pitched. She felt his tongue, his lips and teeth. She swore she could even feel that mole she loved, the mole beneath his lip, the mole only she knew about… my mole. 

He sucked and kissed and lapped at her clitoris and Akami felt like he was sucking her up with a straw. The pads of his fingers found that spot that made her moan loud and lewd, her fingers twisted into the edge of the desk and the hair on the nape of his neck. 

Kakashi kissed the inside of her trembling thighs, giving them his undivided attention and stroking his fingers into the fat of her hips. Akami opened her eyes which had been screwed shut since she moaned like an animal, Kakashi was looking up at her from right between her legs. It felt like hours had passed, or just mere seconds, time stopped congealing into this single moment. He wanted her to watch as he pulled another orgasm from her. He leaned down to kiss her there, it was soft and sickly sweet. She whispered his name like it meant something more. 

He felt superhuman when she writhed against his mouth. He curled his fingers once–twice, she tried to close her legs around his head. Her orgasm oozed out of her all over his mouth and hand. It seeped into her vital organs and degraded her liver. 

  “Fuck…” Akami whispered, her eyelids fluttered telling. He laughed, kissing the soft part of her stomach, she could feel it vibrate up her spine. 

Kakashi crawled back over her. The sheen of sweat on her skin made it look as if she were glistening, like the surface of the ocean in the moonlight. He liked a stripe up the side of her neck to see if she tasted as glimmery as she looked. 

He nibbled on the skin beneath her ear, and she could feel how slick his lips were. She chuckled–a faint and breathless sound—and wrapped her hands around his neck and tucked her feet into the bottom of his butt to hold him there as long as possible. 

Akami’d been wondering if her stomach bug had actually been a parasite–and she gave it to Kakashi, because since that day he’d been a completely different person. He always left with so many words unsaid. Akami could feel it but she didn’t know what it was he wanted to say. All she knew was that she wanted him to be her best friend and to have the soul shattering sex they had. She knew she couldn’t have it both ways so she let him say nothing. Because she worried that she’d said too much, and pushed him too fast, ‘I love your hands.’ Maybe he’d heard the private confession meant just for his palm, ‘you make me feel seen.’ And he was trying to tell her he wanted to go back, or maybe he was trying to pull away completely but didn’t know how. So she was abundantly pleased that him coming to see her office escalated the way it had…with two necrotic orgasms. 

Akami sat up and slipped her panties off all the way, she thrust them in her pocket. She stepped back into her pants when she saw that Kakashi was satisfied by just satisfying her. 

He opened the door and she pulled his mask up over his face, sliding her thumbs down either side of his nose. Akami didn’t want him to leave. She wouldn’t say as much so she settled for walking him out of the building. 

They stepped out of her office into the hallway, he wrapped his hand around her ass and squeezed. She laughed and leaned into his side. 

Akami moved her balled up red satin panties from her pocket to her other hand. They turned the corner and Akami walked him back into the wall, he smiled beneath his mask and moved his hands to her hips. 

“If you can wait until tonight,” She spoke against his jaw, “I’ll return the favor,” and she traced her fingers over his half-erect cock, he took in a sharp breath. “Think you could hold on to these for me until then?” Akami tried to slip her panties into the front pocket of his pants, she glanced up at him beneath hooded eyes to find he was staring over her head, wide-eyed. Kakashi let go of her immediately and the rest of him went as stiff as his dick…And that was when she felt it. 

Shikaku was sitting on the other side of the third floor lobby chewing on one end of a pen and wearing his slyest grin. Akami turned around and was as dumbstruck as Kakashi. 

Shikaku looked like the big bad wolf himself… My, what big teeth you have. And she swore she saw him think right back with his pitch black eyes…Better to sneer at you with, little lady.  

Akami and Kakashi were so accustomed to being extra cautious at her house that having sex in her office–on the abandoned third floor of the intelligence building–that neither of them considered that Shikaku could swing by his office–sharing the same wall as Akami’s—at any time. They didn’t even sense his chakra…though that was probably intentional on his part. 

It would have been better if he had just gone into his office—and heard all her desperate and depraved moans— and saved them all the embarrassment. But it wasn’t in Shikaku’s nature, not only did he get one over on her, but he had managed to catch two of the highest ranking Anbu operatives in the Village red handed…Quite literally red handed, Akami followed Shikaku’s eyes as they trailed down to her hand, still clutching the red thong half hanging out of Kakashi’s pants. She hastily shoved them as far down in his pocket as they could go.

The second she did Kakashi shunshined away leaving her to get scolded by herself.  She glared at the spot he once stood and promised to make him pay for it later… there will be zero! reciprocation. 

Shikaku snorted and Akami turned her glare to him. She wasn’t worried for the security of her job but only for the complete and total loss of her dignity. She didn’t even know what to say. She was too proud to apologize, not when Shikaku could have left and come back later if he heard things he didn’t want to hear. It was her office, the door was shut.

Akami opened her mouth to try and say as much, flip it so he looked like that creep who got caught, but no words came out. 

“That good huh?” Shikaku grinned as her mouth hung open. 

Akami snapped her jaw shut, and scoffed–though if you asked Shikaku it sounded more like a growl—She stuck her nose up and marched back towards her office like she didn’t care what he thought. She shut the door with a slam, and threw herself into the chair behind her desk putting her feet up. She lost her dignity but she still had her pride…what little pride remained when she heard his croaky laugh as clear as if she’d been in the room with him. Akami sank lower into her seat and groaned… he probably heard everything.  

read the rest on Ao3

[feathers-in-the-night]

Okay apparently im unable to not post something every once in a while if im really pleased with it, so here part of a little moment in the latest chapter

(I was a good girl and wrote two pages on my exam tonight, so im sharing this is a treat)

“Do you want to talk about it?” his voice was soft and unassuming – he feared she’d clam up if he pressed her too much.

Morgan shrugged and got out of her blankets, sitting with crossed legs on top of her covers. “I’m not sure there’s anything to talk about. The nightmare is very predictable.. the worst part is the effect it’s having on my sleep. I – I can’t fall back asleep when it happens, so I just...”

”Don’t sleep?”

She huffed out a breath that failed to sound like a laugh, one corner of her mouth quirking upwards. “Yeah.”

“You should try to sleep,” he encouraged, grabbing her hand, and looking at her imploringly. “I see the bags under your eyes. You look exhausted all the time.”

The golden light outside had all but faded now, bathing them in the grey tones of dusk. The changed lighting made her skin look deathly pale, a grey pallor to her countenance. Usually, he thought she looked vibrant; a dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks from the sun’s kiss and her cheeks flushed with a bit of color that offset her sharp and cool eyes.

Morgan grimaced. “Look, I know I’m not exactly winning any beauty awards right now –“

“That’s not what I was saying,” he instantly denied, because he still thought she was beautiful, eyebags and all.  

She looked at him strangely, but kept going, “I would love more sleep, but I can’t. I know its childish, but I get so uneasy. I can’t close my eyes because I’m convinced he’s lurking. Every shadow looks like its him.” she brought her knees close to her chest again, but tried to shake off the fear he saw on her face. “Besides,” she looked at him with humor and he knew exactly what this was – she’d admitted a weakness and now she was trying to cover the vulnerability with a joke. “I did just spend all of last night in a dank-ass cave on the ocean floor.”

He clenched her hand tighter at the reminder, and he saw how her eyes flickered towards their intertwined fingers. He didn’t care – she could withdraw her hand if she minded the touch, but he was done pretending he didn’t crave her nearness. He wanted her to go back to sleep – he was sure a good night’s rest would give her the energy she needed. But he also understood that she was afraid. He understood why. It wasn’t about the nightmares so much as it was the constant reminder of where she was heading. It was the inability to tell herself that the nightmare wasn’t real - because it was. And the longer they took to fix this, the closer she got to that fate.

“Sleep with me.”

She looked at him with wide eyes and finally withdrew her hand. “Bro, what?”

He shook his head. “No, wait, that’s not what I meant – I,” he let out a small groan at his blunder, feeling his ears redden. “I meant, try to sleep. I’ll stay here so you feel safe.”

Her sharp eyes roved over his face for a long time, the doubt on her face visible. He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“I’m don’t think that’s..” she trailed off. The words came out like a whisper, sounding tantalizingly private and close. He felt the urge to inch closer, entranced by the way her mouth moved at her whispered words, and the way her lips stayed slightly open, almost breathless, as she looked up at him.  

“Why not?” he asked, his voice low. “We’re friends, right?”

He almost felt bad for speaking the words he knew would get her to agree – he was well aware of his own manipulation. But she was exhausted. He could see it seeping into her very bones. He would’ve said anything to get her to go back to sleep. He would’ve said anything if it allowed him to stay close to her for a bit.

“I.. – Fine.”  she relented; fingers clenched into her blankets. How was it he knew how powerful she was, how ferocious she could be, and yet right now she looked tiny, igniting in him every urge to protect her and shield her?

He lay down on top of her blankets as she busied herself with crawling back under them. Her movements were stiff and awkward, and he tried to look completely at easy to help her. Once she was back under her covers, she haltingly shuffled closer, nestling her face against his shoulder. He quickly moved his arm, allowing her to fall into the crook of it. Her hands and arms were pressed between them, preventing her body from laying flush against his, and he was unsure if it was a measure to keep him at bay, or to stop herself. He was glad that she lay on his right side with her head resting on his shoulder, because, surely, if she’d been on the left side, she would’ve heard how loudly his heart was beating. But maybe that wouldn’t matter – from where she lay against him, he could feel that her pulse was just as fast.

[sunrisefairy]

Annoying

Paring: Remus Lupin x fem!reader Warning: NSFW! MDNI 18+ unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of oral sex. If I’ve forgotten anything let me know! Summary: Remus finds the reader so annoyingly distracting.  A/N: for the anon that wanted a mix of enemies to lovers and Remus losing control near the full moon. I hope I did it justice.  Requests are open!

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Remus Lupin isn’t one to hate people, sure there is only a select few people that he actually likes spending time with and considers his good friends but that doesn’t mean that he dislikes everyone else, he just doesn’t have time for a lot of people, especially annoying people. And some people are just more annoying than others and most times those people don’t even realise they’re acting as such. Except for the girl who is basically in every one of his classes, you. Remus is certain you know how infuriating you are, especially when you shoot your hand up to beat Remus to answering a question or how a smile will stretch across your pretty lips when you finds out you scored higher than Remus on a test or how you always seems to giggle a little louder when you knows Remus is nearby. Remus finds it irritating how you seems to know exactly how to get on his nerves, you know precisely how to make his cheeks heat up in anger and make his blood boil and his cock hard, okay maybe you don’t realise you’re doing the last one but still. But the thing that annoys Remus the most is you don’t seem to care.

Being friends with James Potter and Sirius Black, Remus has learnt to obtain the patience of a saint. He finds no trouble in zoning out their constant chatter and ignoring their mindless bickering. However, as it gets closer to a full moon, Remus’ tolerance wears thin and the marauders quickly learnt to simmer down and be wary of Remus around a full moon, unless either one of them wanted a smack to the back of the head. As it gets closer to his transformations Remus’ senses are heightened tenfold, it’s as if he can hear every sound, smell every scent and everything he tastes is 10 times more intense.

His joints were aching more than usual last night so that combined with Peters constant snoring ensured minimal sleep which resulted in Remus being extra irritable today which would have been manageable if he didn’t have a class first thing with you. Beautiful, cute, annoying you.

Remus thought if he could just spend the lesson concentrating hard enough on the professors dull voice that you sitting in the same room as him wouldn’t be an issue, it wasn’t like he sat next to you anyway, James or Sirius always occupied the desk next to him eager to ‘share’ his notes. Expect this day was different, because Remus got little sleep last night he slept through his alarm and somehow even slept through the booming voices of the Marauders when they were getting ready this morning. Remus started off the day jumping out of bed and rushing to get ready, having no time for breakfast (which added to his already foul mood) and practically falling through the classroom door only to find his usual seat was pre-occupied by some girl Sirius was trying to woo and James was sitting next to Pete.

“Ah, Mr. Lupin. How fantastic to see you have finally decided to join us. Please find a seat so I can continue on with my lesson,” the Professor states before continuing his lifeless lesson.

Remus quickly scans the room for a free chair to rush to, he spots one in the far corner of the room but falters in his step when he notices who is seated next to the free space, you. Remus groans when he realises this was the only free chair and very obviously drags his feet before plopping down beside you, he can only hope you decided to not be annoyingly distracting today.

“How scandalous that Mr. prefect is late to class,” you whisper, chuckling when you see Remus roll his eyes, a usual reaction of his.

Remus comes to the conclusion that the best point of action is to just pretend you don’t exist, which goes according to plan until 3 quarters of the way through the lesson. The thing is, Remus hasn’t sat in such close proximity to you this close to a full moon before and he’s struggling to keep his focus on the jumble of words in front of him and not on the way you’re obnoxiously twirling your hair between your fingers. Whatever perfume you sprayed on yourself is suffocating Remus’ nostrils and he can’t get enough. Within no time Remus thoughts are straying away from his textbook to more filthy thoughts surrounding you. The main image that is burning a hole in his brain is the thought of burying his face in your neck and inhaling your scent and sinking his teeth into your perfect skin, he has to bite his lip to stop himself from groaning.

Remus manages to write 2 more messy sentences down before glancing in your direction and noticing the way your lip is pulled between your teeth and he can’t help but fantasise about biting your annoyingly pretty lips himself.

“Stop doing that,” Remus grits through his teeth as he speaks.

You meet his gaze confused, “stop doing what?”

“That!” Remus whisper yells, pointing at your lips as you once again pull your bottom lip in between your lip. “It’s distracting.”

You mumble an apology and go back to writing your notes. You’re so engrossed in reading the selected chapter you don’t even notice you’re bouncing your leg up and down rapidly until a rough hand stills your movements. You’re expecting Remus to remove his large hand once your movements stop, however to your surprise he keeps his hand resting firmly against your bare knee. Mouth agape and staring down at where Remus is touching you, the way his thumb is stroking at your skin seems innocent enough, so why is your stomach in knots?

Remus leans dangerously close to your ear, which thankfully goes unnoticed by the rest of the class given the fact the two of you are seated at the back of the room. “You are being very distracting right now bunny, it’s making me angry.”

A visible shudder runs through your body, feeling Remus’ hot breath fanning the side of your face makes your mouth dry. Remus’ low teasing voice makes you whimper immediately a heat rushes up your cheeks because even though your whimper was quiet Remus is so very close to you right now, you know he heard.

“Come with me,” Remus squeezes your knee and moves to rise from his seat.

You halt his movements by grabbing onto his bicep, “we can’t just leave, we’re in the middle of class.” Your eyes dart to the front of the room to see if your professor has witnessed Remus’ half standing and planning his escape.

“What’s life without a bit of risk bunny, now c’mon.” his tone demanding and firm. Without even a second glance Remus walks out of class, making you wonder if he’s done this before. The odds are high, given that he’s one fourth of the infamous marauders clan.

You look away from the door Remus just so carelessly walked out of and to the front of the class at your professor, he’s sitting at his desk reading over papers and very obviously trying to stay awake. The chances of him catching you are slim but that isn’t what you’re nervous about. You’re nervous about what will happen if you do make it out of the classroom unnoticed, you’re nervous about what Remus will do to you. The endless possibilities are both thrilling and exciting. There’s no way you could stay seated not when there’s a wetness pooling in your panties just from Remus’ hand on your knee.

Carefully you slip out from your seat and rush to the door, breathing a sigh of relief when you successfully make it out into the corridor. Looking around you notice the corridor is empty and there’s no sign of Remus, you begin walking down the hallway in search of the boy.

“Remus?” you’re met with nothing but silence. Just as you’re about to turn and head back to class you feel a strong arm grip yours and tug your harshly into a tiny room.

“Ooft,” your body slamming into someone’s hard chest; if only there was a light source in this closet? yes it’s definitely a closet, if only it wasn’t so dark in here you would be able to figure out who decided it a good idea to scare the shit out of you by pulling you in here with them.

“Took your fucking time,” the other person grunts, Remus you thought, you knew that voice.

“Remus, what the hell? Care to explain why your dragged me out of class and into this dark broom closet?” Although there is no light in the tiny closet you can vaguely see Remus’ outline towering over you, you gulp realising how close the both of you are standing to each other. Remus’ hot breath fans your face and you’re very aware that if you were to angle your head further upwards and stand on your tiptoes you could connects your lips. The thought itself has you shuddering.

“Couldn’t wait.” Remus replies, stepping closer, invading your personal space even more, not that you minded.

“Couldn’t wait for what?”

“Merlin you’re dumber than I thought if you don’t know.”

You scoff defensively, “I am not dumb, do I have to remind you I bet you on the last Charms essay? and on the transfigurations one so-”

The words die in your throat, Remus cutting you off by connecting your lips in a needy and desperate kiss. Immediately you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer by the hair. Remus rests his hands on your waist pulling your hips flush against his, you whimper feeling his hard cock pressing against your stomach.

Remus breaks away from your mouth and starts sucking and licking down your jaw and neck while his hands move to grope at your breasts over the top of your school shirt. “We don’t have much time before class ends.” Remus mumbles into your skin, his mouth is salivating when he breathes in deep, his nostrils filling with the sweet scent of you, it’s so intoxicating and immediately images of you are accompanying his mind, some more sinful than others. Remus wastes no time in sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of your shoulder, his cock twitching at the sound you make.

“Then you better hurry up and fuck me Remus,” you smirk, loving the way Remus groans and narrows his eyes at you. His pupils have seemingly expanded and darkened, his eyes are scanning over every inch of your face leaving you feeling vulnerable.

Your pussy has been throbbing since Remus firmly rested his hand on your leg back in the classroom and you know your panties are soaked by now with the way Remus is rutting his hips against yours but it’s not enough. It won’t be enough, not until you know what it’s like to have Remus’ skin against yours and his cock inside you but even then, you think you will always be wanting more of him.

Your hands are fumbling at Remus’ pants trying to get them unbuckled as quickly as possible, Remus understands the rush and helps you, skilfully undoing his pants and pushing them along with his boxers down his legs with only one hand, the other creeps under your shirt and rests delicately on the small of your back. Just the feeling of Remus’ skin on your back makes you melt further into him, your desire to have him fuck you hard and fast is becoming unbearable. Remus’ cock is sitting hard and angrily between your bodies, desperate for any sort of attention and Remus wishes you had more time because he would love to push you down to your knees and finally force you to shut up by pushing his cock into your sweet mouth and make you gag and choke around his length until you’re crying. But time isn’t on his side right now so instead Remus wraps his strong arms around your arse, silently signally you to jump which you do with no hesitation and lock your legs around his waist.

Remus reaches his hand down to flip your skirt up, he be damned if he couldn’t see the cunt he’s spent way to much time thinking about. Remus pull your panties to the side groaning when his fingers graze your wet dripping core, another thing he wishes he could do is to taste you. He just knows you taste sugary and sweet just like the sounds you’re making as he teases your entrance. He wants to bury his face deep in your cunt inhaling your scent while he licks and sucks until you’re screaming his name, maybe another time.

“You gotta be quiet for me kay bunny? Think you can do that?” Remus’ voice is thick with lust and a condescending tone is laced throughout it.

“You think that highly of yourself?” you retort trying to rile Remus up like you normally do, it seems to be working judging by the way Remus pinches the flesh of your arse.

Without breaking eye contact Remus lines up his cock and drags your hips down until he’s deep inside you, his balls pressed flush against your skin.

Remus isn’t sure if it’s because it’s close to the full moon but he hasn’t even started moving yet and the way the soft velvet walls of your cunt is gripping and hugging at his cock feels so intense and heavenly, he thinks he might cum right there.

Along with a lack of patience around this time of the month Remus also struggles to control himself and his urges. It takes every ounce of self-discipline in him to hold you against the rough wall of the broom closet and slowly rock his hips into yours, feeling the need to control the situation. Remus is very conscious of not gripping your hips too hard and not slamming his hips up into yours too roughly, he doesn’t want to let go mentally and hurt you.

You can tell Remus is holding back, the authoritative tone used in the classroom is vastly different to his actions right now. He’s supposed to be fucking you hard and fast and making you scream, not this.

Although the pleasure from Remus’ rocking into your cunt is great you know he can do better, can fuck you better. “Remus,” you whine, pulling his face away from your neck, forcing him to look you in the eyes. There’s clearly an internal struggle behind his eyes. “Remus, I need you to fuck me properly. I can take it, you won’t break me, promise.”

Remus does pick up the speed slightly, but you can clearly tell there’s still some hesitance on his behalf and you asking nicely didn’t seem break that. You’re desperate for Remus to let go. A smirk breaks out onto your face, an idea forming. Based on your previous interactions you know exactly how to get under Remus’ skin, what to say and do that would have him clenching his jaw in annoyance, after all it was a hobby of yours, annoying Remus Lupin. “Guess we don’t have to worry about me being quiet if you fuck like this. Pity, was kinda hoping you’d have me screaming.”

Something deep and primal in him snaps, blame it on the full moon or how you’re silently challenging him, he doesn’t care, all he cares about right now is proving you wrong, and he wasn’t going to stop until he had you trembling and shaking.

His grip on your hips tighten, nails threatening to break skin as Remus pushes your further into the wall behind you so hard for a second you think you might go tumbling right through it. You’re grateful for the material of your school top slightly soften the rough texture of the wall behind you. With no warning Remus starts slamming his hips harder and faster into yours, clearly set on making you squirm against him. Each thrust is harder than the last and his cock is poking your g-spot repeatedly. The sounds you were making were positively indecent and only fuelled Remus on. Neither of you cared that anyone walking by the broom closet could possibly hear the sound of skin slapping together or yours and Remus’ moans. None of that mattered, not when the two of you felt this good.

The vigour of Remus’ pace was unmatched and all you could do was hold on tight to Remus’ shoulders and take every powerful thrust. You were hypnotised with the feeling of Remus’ cock inside of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what other parts of his body like his fingers or tongue, would feel like when fucking you.

“Fuck Remus, so good. I-I” you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say, all your thoughts were jumbled and bouncing around in your brain, all you knew is you never wanted Remus to stop.

“You feel amazing,” Remus’ body was on fire, every inch of him alight and burning, his annoyance of how his day started was far from his mind. All he could think of was you and how you were clenching around him. He chokes out a strained sob when he hears you chanting his name in time with each rough snap of his hips, you sound both angelic and sinful at the same time, Remus’ wishes he had one of those muggle voice recording devices so he could record your whines and listen to them when he’s alone in his dorm room.

Using his free hand Remus reaches down to rub tight circles on your clit edging you closer and closer to your release. Your orgasm is fast approaching much like a freight train heading straight for you, sirens blaring but you can’t move, the pleasure is too intense and too powerful to do anything except take it.

Remus’ face is pressed back against your neck and he quickly decides it’s his favourite place to be, if someone offered him 1,000 Galleons to never bury his face in your neck, he wouldn’t take it. Remus can hear the squelching sounds of your soppy cunt as it helplessly takes his fat cock. He’s leaving sloppy kisses and hickeys wherever he can get his mouth. It’s right when Remus’ digs his teeth into your neck and bites down hard do you fall apart, your pussy clenching and spasming around him, right in this moment you’re thankful for Remus holding you up against the wall, your legs are shaking and tensing and you know if you were standing the intensity of the orgasm would have brought you to your knees. Remus’ name is the only word you seem capable of saying as the coil inside your stomach snaps and rapidly unravels as you come undone.

“Remus, Remus, Remus!”

You connect your lips with Remus’ in a lame attempt to shut yourself up, the kiss is rushed and your teeth clash together but you don’t give a fuck. Remus’ name is still spilling from your lips and into Remus’ mouth as your body begins to come down from the high.

The boy holding you up hasn’t faltered in his movements at all, determined to fuck you through your orgasm. There’s beads of sweat dripping from Remus’ forehead, his mind is whirling and thoughts of you are spiralling around his brain, he thinks he might pass out and he’s certain he does for a second when you whisper and bite his earlobe.

“Want you to cum inside me Remus, fill me up,” half a thrust later and Remus’ hips stutter and he’s spilling into your cunt groaning your name as he does so. His vision blurs around the edges before he closes his eyes and he lets out a moan so deep, primal and loud. Remus continues to rock his hips milking his own orgasm until the last drop is squeezed from his soften cock. He stills his movements but doesn’t dare pull out just yet, relishing in the warmth of your pussy and the way your hand is brushing the sweaty hair off his forehead. You rest your forehead against Remus’ sweaty one, pecking his lips, once, twice then three times.

“That was…” you drift off unable to find the right words to describe what just happened.

“Intense?” Remus offers breathlessly.

You nod, “in the best way.”

It wasn’t until you hear the sounds of students outside signalling the end of class do either of you move, Remus helping you clean yourself up. And it wasn’t until the two of you were certain the coast was clear did you exit the closet with the promise of doing that again very soon.

[homoose]

A Timely Reminder

Summary: Prof!Spencer has been thinking about having sex in his office for a while now. Reader helps him make it happen. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut, 18+ (minors DNI)

Warnings/Includes: established relationship, exhibitionism, light sub!spencer (but really just whipped!spencer), oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, insecure!reader, jealous!reader, loud af!spencer, v light hand over mouth action

Word count: 4k

a/n: Because this Tuesday has been hot garbage... have a treat. An anon asked me if reader was a switch... here’s your answer. Also because we already got to see Spencer be jealous af, we deserved to have jealous reader, too. ♥️

a/n 2: This is a companion to the latest chapter of my series, but it can mostly stand alone! All you need to know is it’s an established relationship and she’s been invited to visit him at the university. 

Series Masterlist 

———

Y/N watched from her seat outside his office as a student slipped out through Spencer’s half-open door— looking positively dreamy. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the next girl stepped in the office. 

It took another twenty minutes for the final two students to finish their visits. When the last coed made her way out the door and down the hall, Y/N stood and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. She crossed the hallway and peered into his office, knocking on the door frame.

Spencer raised his head with a panicked look, his face softening into relief when he saw it was her. “Hey. Close the door,” he begged.

Y/N stepped into his office and closed the door quietly behind her. She finally took a look around the space— fairly small but tastefully decorated. The wall across from her was one enormous bookcase, filled to capacity, of course. Light filtered in from a single window, and his mahogany desk sat on the far wall, accompanied by a wingback leather office chair. Behind his desk was a low shelf lined with a globe, some other trinkets, and a plethora of picture frames. 

“Sorry that took so long.” He ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know why my office hours are always so busy.”

She hummed, crossing to the gigantic bookshelf. “No?”

“No,” he confirmed exasperatedly. “No one else has that many students at their office hours. I asked.”

She laughed a little. “You asked?”

“Well, yeah.” He drew his brows together. “I don’t know if my syllabus is confusing, or if I’m— not clear enough in my lectures, maybe?” He ran both hands through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “But there are always so many questions, and I mean— there are no stupid questions, but…” He sighed. “Sometimes the questions are stupid.”

She did laugh at that, full and loud. “Well, if my professors looked like Dr. Spencer Reid, I imagine I’d come up with a litany of questions, too. Stupid or otherwise.”

He was quiet, and she ran her finger along the book she was studying rather intently. She felt him moving toward her more than heard it, felt his eyes on her. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, instead pretending to peruse the titles in front of her. 

“Are you— are you jealous?” he asked incredulously. 

“No,” she defended, a little too quickly and voice a little too high.

“It’s okay if you are. Jealousy is— it’s a very normal human emotion.” He cleared his throat. “It’s, um— it’s kind of hot, actually.”

She rolled her eyes, but truthfully, his confession made her feel a little bit better. He put a hand on her waist to turn her to face him, and she could feel her cheeks burning— hoped he couldn’t see it. She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, instead staring at a spot on the wall behind his head. 

“But you know you have no reason to be, right?” He cupped a gentle hand under her chin, finally brought her eyes to his. “Why would I be interested in girls when I already have a woman?”

He leaned in to press his mouth to hers, soft and sweet. Then his hand was back on her waist and pulling her flush against him, drawing a small gasp from her mouth that had him deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue. His mouth was hot and hungry, moving over hers with a quiet desperation. He slid his free hand to the nape of her neck, fisted it in her hair and tugged. 

She sucked in a breath and bit a little harshly on his bottom lip, moving a hand up to grasp at his forearm. He pulled out of the kiss to rest his forehead against hers, chest already heaving. His voice was raspy when he warned, “The door doesn’t lock.”

“Okay,” she whispered. 

“But I’ve kind of… been thinking about this for a while,” he admitted, dragging the tip of his nose along her cheek.

She swallowed. “Mm, what— what’ve you been thinking about?”

“You, always.” His breath was hot on her ear, and now he had both hands on her hips. He used them to push her gently back into the bookshelf. “But specifically, I’ve been thinking about fucking you in here.”

“Oh,” she breathed, tangling her fingers in the curls at the back of his neck. 

“Yeah.” He ghosted his mouth over her neck, dragged his teeth a little to make her shiver. “Would that be okay?”

She tilted her head back to bare more of her neck to him, and he closed his mouth over her pulse point, sucking wetly. He slid his leg between hers, lifted his thigh to press against her, and she could feel her underwear sticking to the wetness already gathering there. Her breath caught in her throat as she ground down on his leg. He sucked hard on her neck before pressing a gentle kiss to the spot and lifting his head to look at her. 

“Do you wanna do that?” he asked again.

“God, I— yeah,” she nodded.

He brought his hand up to stroke this thumb along her cheek. “You’re sure?”

The knowledge that he’d been thinking about being with her in this space was more than a little overwhelming. His gaze was earnest and lustful, and she knew he was telling the truth— that she had no reason to be jealous, that he was always thinking of her. His declaration didn’t quite douse the fire of her insecurity, but at least it wasn’t burning quite so hot. And the idea that she could bring this fantasy to life, make sure his head was full of her whenever he sat at his desk or pulled a book off this shelf— that was almost too much. “Yes. Very sure.”

His mouth was on hers almost before she got the words out, his tongue sliding against hers. He brought both hands to the hem of her dress, hiking it up and slipping his hands underneath to grab at her ass, pulling her closer. He turned and walked her backwards toward his desk, bringing their entwined bodies around the corner of it, pushing her back, and half-hoisting her to sit on top. 

His warm hands trailed along her inner thighs, pushing up the fabric of her dress and forcing her legs apart. He stepped in between them and attached his mouth to her neck once more, sucking and licking and nipping a path along where her dress cut low in between her breasts. 

“What did you think about?” she breathed, winding her fingers into his hair. “What’s your fantasy, professor?” He bit down a little harshly where his mouth had been sucking. “You want me on my knees for you?”

He lifted his head and stepped even closer, bringing his hands to her hips and pulling her ass to the edge of the desk. “No. I want to be the one on my knees.”

With that, he dropped down in front of her, eye level with her pussy. He looked up at her from his place on the floor, laying his hands flat along the tops of her thighs and pushing her dress up to her waist. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, and she lifted her hips to allow him to pull them down.

She watched as he brought them up to his nose, briefly inhaling and then folding them up into a neat square. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and placed them inside, closing the drawer and then looking up at her from under his lashes. She could barely breathe. 

He started at her ankles, taking one gently in his hands and kissing a warm path up to her knee, and then crossing over to the other side and back down.

“So soft,” he murmured, dragging his open mouth along her shin. He ghosted his fingers over her legs, pulling them up over his shoulders and settling in between her thighs.

He pressed featherlight kisses along her inner thighs, and she sucked in a breath as he inched closer to where she really wanted him. “Don’t tease, Spence.” 

She could feel his smile against her skin, and she brought her hand up to wrap his curls around her fingers, tugging a little harder than she normally would. “I’m not asking.”

He let out a moan that vibrated across her skin, and she tightened her grip on his hair. She pulled him against her, and finally he sealed his lips around her clit, sucking gently. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back with a soft whine. “Mmhmm, there you go.”

He wrapped his hands over the tops of her thighs, using his grip to hold her even more firmly against his mouth as he sucked and swirled his tongue around her clit. He brought his tongue to a point and flicked it rapidly against her, and she had to bring her other hand to his hair as well, holding tight. “Shit, baby, just like that.”

She used her hands in his hair to hold him still as she rolled her hips against his face, and his quiet groans had her heart flipping in her chest. “Fuck,” she breathed out. “Never met another man who loves eating pussy this much.” 

He nodded as best he could between the press of her thighs. “Use your fingers, professor,” she demanded. She smiled when he immediately complied, bringing one hand off where he was holding her against his face and trailing it between her legs. He shifted his mouth back to her clit, circling it with his tongue as he began to press his middle finger into her. 

She tightened her grip on his hair and held back a moan. “I said fingers, Spencer. I know you love to drag it out, but we don’t have time.”

He whined but added his index finger, slipping them into her and curling them up immediately. She had to clamp her mouth shut to stifle the moan that threatened to echo off the walls of the office as he began to fuck into her, dragging his fingers against that spot inside her on every out-stroke. 

He hummed around her clit as he thrust his fingers inside and then sucked as he dragged them out, over and over and over again, his plush lips covered in her arousal and working magic over her cunt. The sound of how wet she was had them both groaning a little too loud for their current venue, and then she was coming with his name on her tongue. 

He didn’t let up after she was finished, still lapping at her entrance and pressing kisses to every inch of her pussy, whining and moaning against her like a man starved. “How are you so good at that, hm?” she gasped. “Had a lot of practice?”

She opened her eyes, slightly unfocused as he worked her to another orgasm, much less intense but still just as good. And then her gaze fell on the shelf behind him, and for the first time she noticed that the picture frames were filled with… her. 

She finally tugged him off by his hair when his mouth became too much, and as he pressed gentle kisses to her thighs, she counted eight different framed pictures of the two of them. There were also pictures of him and the team, his mom, and the boys. But the vast majority of them were of her. 

There was one of her sipping coffee at Soho— from their first official date there. Another of her smiling against the backdrop of the arboretum. One where she was tucked under his arm with his lips pressed to her cheek. Another still where he was hugging her tight in front of the Smithsonian. 

She let out a long breath and then looked down to see him watching her, and her breath caught in her throat. No one had ever looked at her the way he did, and she knew that she really, really had nothing to worry about. “C’mere.”

Spencer scrambled up off his knees, crowding in close and pressing a sloppy kiss to her mouth. Their tongues slid together, and she tasted herself as he brought his clean hand up to her face. Her hands made their way to his ass, pulling him flush against her, and his hips jolted forward and she could feel his erection clear as day. He groaned and rolled his hips against her, and she smiled against his mouth. 

“So hard, baby,” she praised, pressing another kiss to his mouth. “You love being on your knees, huh?”

He hummed in confirmation, and she trailed a line of kisses down his jaw, then his neck. When she reached the collar of his shirt, she brought her hands up to loosen his tie. “You were so good for me.” She got the tie undone and dropped it on the desk. Then she popped the first two buttons on his shirt, dragging her mouth along the column of his throat. “You wanna fuck me now?”

“Yes, yes, please.” 

She dragged her hands down his chest and began to work on his belt. When that was undone and hanging loose, she popped the button on his trousers and lowered his zipper, then palmed him through his underwear. 

“You’re such a pretty boy, Spence,” she breathed. “You know that’s why they come to your office hours, right? Because you’re so pretty.” She squeezed a little where he was so hard and leaking from the tip. “They’re hoping maybe you’ll fuck them over this desk.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide. “Y/N, I would never—”

“I know, baby. I know,” she assured, cupping his cheek in her hand. “You probably never even thought about it.” 

“I don’t.” His voice was a little bit desperate, like he was afraid she didn’t believe him. “I only think a-about you. I— I’m always thinking about you, even when I probably shouldn’t be.”

“Mm, I’d say ‘sorry,’ but... I’m really, really not.” She brought her hands to his hips, forcing his trousers and underwear down over his ass to let his cock spring free. “Is that why you’re keeping my panties? To help you out when you’re thinking about me in here?” 

“Y-yes.” He watched as she dragged her palm over her slick entrance, and then brought her wet hand to circle around his dick. “Oh my god,” he whispered. 

“How do you wanna fuck me? Wanna bend me over your desk?” His fingers dug into her hips as she pumped his cock, and he shook his head. “No? You want me to blow you?” His hips jerked forward into the tight circle of her hand, but he shook his head again. “Then tell me what you want, Spence.”

His flush had traveled all the way down his chest, pretty and red and sweaty. His gaze was settled on her fingers wrapped around his cock. “Can you, um— can you ride me?”

She smiled and then gave him one last stroke and dropped herself off the edge of the desk. She hummed and stepped closer to him, grasping his chin and pulling him down into a hot, possessive kiss. “Should have known you’d want me on top,” she teased.

She leaned down to his desk drawer. “Do you have condoms in here, too?” She opened it and retrieved her panties, wiping off her hand on them and then folding them back up and replacing them in the drawer. 

He whimpered at the sight and then fumbled in the pocket of his suit coat, slung over the back of the chair. She raised an eyebrow. “Do you always have one in there?”

“No,” he defended, ripping open the wrapper and rolling it on. “Only when I know you’re gonna be around.”

He moved to sit on the desk, shoving the student essays and extra papers haphazardly out of the way to make room for her. She stepped in between his knees and laughed a little at the way he reached for her. She kissed him quickly before climbing up onto the desk, shifting around him and cursing under her breath. “You’ve picked possibly the most awkward position for this fantasy.”

“We— we can do it another way or— or not at all if—”

“Just—” she put a finger up to his lips “—shut up and make sure I don’t fall off the desk?”

He smiled a little sheepishly and grasped her hips, and she clung to his shoulders as she got situated over top of his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs. He wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her and leaned in to press their mouths together. “Thank you for making this work,” he mumbled. 

She kissed him again and then rolled her hips down over his cock, pulling a whine from the back of his throat. She did it again just to tease him, and then reached between their bodies to line him up. 

His grip tightened around her waist as she began to sink down on him, and she dropped her forehead to his shoulder. The stretch from this angle was always more intense, and it had her gasping out his name as he bottomed out. He rubbed his hands soothingly over her lower back as she adjusted to the feel of him inside her, pressing gentle kisses to her shoulder and keeping as still as possible. 

She finally let out a breath and circled her hips, and Spencer sunk his teeth into her shoulder. “You feel so good, so fucking thick.”

She got into her rhythm quickly, mindful of the fact that she was riding her boyfriend in his office in the middle of the day with an entire university just on the other side of a flimsy door. She worked her hips over his cock, bouncing on him and ignoring the burn in her thighs. She dropped down and he held her hips in place, grinding himself deep. She buried her face in his neck and tried to hold back the obscene moan that threatened to escape. 

Spencer didn’t bother to do the same, letting out a groan that reverberated in her eardrums and throughout the small space. She clapped her hand over his mouth and lifted her hips slightly, pulling back to whisper, “Jesus, shh— you’re so loud, Spence. Gonna get us caught.”

His eyes slammed shut and he fucked up into her, whining underneath her hand. Her eyes widened a little as he continued moaning into her palm. She rolled her hips down hard, forcing him deep, and he cried out again. 

“You want that?” she asked. “You want somebody to hear us? Want them to know you’re fucking me in here?”

He didn’t answer, just gripped her hips a little tighter and used what little leverage he had to thrust his hips roughly into her. She kept her hand over his mouth and leaned forward, partially to bring her lips closer to his ear and partially to find that perfect angle. “You want them to know I belong to you?”

He whined pathetically against her hand, and she circled her hips and kept him deep, moaning quietly into his ear. “Or is this about who you belong to?”

She felt his dick twitch where it was buried inside her, and he nodded frantically. She began to rock her hips forward and back, her breath hitching. “Is that why you have all these pictures of me?” she asked, and she saw his eyes shift to the shelf behind her. 

“You don’t think about fucking them, but they think about you.” She punctuated the thought with a slow roll of her hips. “You want them to know that you’re mine?” 

He brought his eyes back to hers, and there was a softness there that made her chest ache. She removed her hand to cover his mouth in a kiss, and he brought his hands up to cup her face, licking into her mouth and trying desperately to prove his loyalty. 

She broke out of the kiss and rolled her hips again. He kept one hand on her face and moved the other to wrap around her dress and keep her seated. She threw her head back as he rocked his hips to have his cock bumping against that spot inside her. He repeated the motion, bringing her closer to orgasm with every shift of his hips. 

She came with another gasp of his name, riding out her high and clenching around him. He pressed his mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking at the exposed skin. She continued the movement of her hips, working her sensitive cunt over his cock. “I don’t think they’re taking the hint, professor. Did you want to give them another reminder?”

He nodded, surging up to kiss her and then planting his feet to help drive himself up into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned forward into him as his hips began to falter. He grasped her ass and gave one final rough thrust, whining high and long into her mouth as he came. 

She began to press soft kisses to his nose, his cheek, his jaw. He wrapped his arms back around her waist and then hugged her close, panting into her neck as he came down. She rubbed one hand over his back and smoothed the other over his curls, gently twirling the hair at the back of his neck. He gave her one more squeeze before loosening his arms and lifting his head, his eyes dazed and practically sparkling. 

“Wow,” he breathed. 

She laughed. “I can tell you that this is not where I thought I’d end up today.” She lifted off of him and clutched a little at his arms as she navigated off the desk. She sucked in a breath as her feet made it to the floor, her knees and thighs already screaming. “I bet your fan club wouldn’t be this sore,” she joked. 

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards him, bringing his free hand up to brush her hair back. “There’s nothing to bet on, because that’s never going to happen.” He cradled her face in both hands. “You know that, right?” 

She covered his hands with her own, rubbing her thumbs over the soft skin. “I know.”

“Good.” He leaned forward to press their mouths together, unbelievably soft and sweet in comparison to the way it had been just a few minutes ago. “I love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree,” she whispered. She pressed one more kiss to his lips and then stepped out of his embrace. “Now, put that thing away before we actually do get caught.”

He gaped at her, fighting a grin as he tied off the condom and tucked himself back into his pants. She retrieved his tie from where she had discarded it earlier and dragged it from her knee all the way up to her inner thigh under her dress, cleaning herself up as much as she could.

She lifted her head to see him staring at her, his mouth hanging open. “You don’t mind, do you? I figured it was an even trade since you’re keeping my underwear.” She dropped the messy tie into her bag and draped the strap over her shoulder, tilting her head innocently. 

He lunged forward to crash their mouths together, and she clutched at his waist. “You are so fucking hot,” he mumbled, nipping at her bottom lip. 

“Mmhm, and don’t you forget it.”

“I’m literally incapable of forgetting it.” He kissed her again. “Thank fuck.” 

She laughed and used a light hand to push him off her, taking a second to take stock of his appearance. She fixed the tuck of his shirt and smoothed a few rogue curls back into place. He looked decidedly fucked out, sweaty and flushed all the way down his chest, his sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons still undone… and she couldn’t bring herself to be bothered. 

He held his hand out to her and smiled radiantly when she accepted it and laced their fingers together. “I was thinking we could get a late lunch?” he offered. 

“Sounds perfect.” 

He grabbed his suit coat and his bag, and they crossed to the door together. He opened it and allowed her to step out into the hallway, following close behind. She swung their hands a little as they made their way down the hall. “That was so fun. Thanks for letting me come.”

Spencer choked on air, looking surreptitiously around the hallway. She laughed brightly and squeezed his hand. “Funny how you’re so modest all of a sudden. Thanks for letting me come visit, professor.”

They walked out together into the quad, hand in hand, and with more than one pair of eyes on them.

———

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[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 6644

Shoutout to @damianodavide​, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘

***

Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact. 

He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.

He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again. 

***

“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.

“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?” 

“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.

Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.

Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”

Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.” 

“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”

“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably. 

“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”

“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”

The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”

*** 

The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.

The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.

She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.

“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”

Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.

“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?” 

Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms. 

“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.

“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.

“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.

“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.” 

“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.

He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!” 

*** 

Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.

“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.

He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”

Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.

Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.

A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.

“Do I look silly?” 

“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”

She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”

“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.

“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.

“I need some air.”

The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.

She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.

***

Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.

"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."

Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then. 

“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.” 

He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.” 

"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"

She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."

Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."

Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now,  he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.

"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."

As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.

"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."

"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."

***

A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.

Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.

This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.

A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now. 

“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.

“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.

It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.

“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”

Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”

“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.

“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”

Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.

“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before. 

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”

Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.

The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional. 

“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.

“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”

“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.

“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.

A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.

“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.

“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.

“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”

Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.

She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the  examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table.  It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.

“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”

***

It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.

“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”

Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.

“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”

He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.

Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.

“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.

“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.

“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”

He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.

He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.

“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it. 

“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.” 

She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.

He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.

Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.

***

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[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song vi (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader   au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, smut; basically a montage of the sex they’ve been having during the rest of the summer lol, they can’t keep their hands off one another, seokjin’s mouth gets progressively dirtier as time goes on, he also gets strategic with condom storage, smut includes; 69, face riding, condomless sex, creampie, biting, (light) spanking, there’s cute things too, like arin’s birthday party and oc meeting his parents   words; 12,064

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You spent the whole of Sunday in bed – which you thought was Seokjin’s plan all along, only finding your way downstairs to eat, and even then he couldn’t keep his hands off you for long enough. (Not that you minded.) He was making the most of it, he told you, before he had to leave you for work. That, and he was waving goodbye to his celibacy the right way… Despite your snort, you understood what he meant. You had fun familiarising yourself with the wonders of sex again… Miraculously blessed with an abundance of energy. Although, when it came to Seokjin, how could you even think about resisting him?! You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. And neither could he… 

“Mmm. What time is it?” You asked Monday morning, voice heavy with sleep, eyes still closed as you heard Seokjin’s alarm go off. He stirred beside you, sitting up to knock the device off before burrowing back under the covers to wrap his arms around your naked body. 

“Half 6,” he grumbled, mouth pressed against the back of your neck. “I don’t want to work.” With one squeeze to his chest, you felt that very obvious erection of his pressed against your ass. “Can’t I just stay here for the rest of the day? Inside you…”

You giggled, attempting to roll over and face him. A hand cupped your cheek instantly, puffy lips finding yours. Morning Seokjin wasn’t good for your heart. His messy hair flopping over his eyes, pillow marks marring his skin, the slight stubble beginning to grow along his top lip… It was all just so… sexy, and now you were wide awake. Still, some teasing couldn’t be helped. 

“We literally spent yesterday all day in bed…”

“Yes, and it was amazing,” he declared. “I’d do it all again today.” 

You raised an eyebrow, a palm holding him steady at the waist. “All again? You do realise we still have all week to go, right? I wouldn’t want you to fail on me so soon…” 

He huffed out a laugh, fingertips ever so cheekily grazing the underside of your right breast. “You underestimate me…” His voice was still gruff from sleep, it made his words ripple through your body, settling between your legs. “I still have 95% of the condoms to use. So,” he grinned, dipping his head to capture your mouth. “You,” – he rolled you onto your back expertly – “better,” – he kissed your throat – “keep,” – then your cleavage – “ up.” His tongue around your nipple had you gasping out immediately, back arching, wanting more. 

Spreading your legs, he nestled in between them easily, the muscles of his meaty thighs protruding as he kneeled up slightly. You gripped them urgently, needing to anchor yourself somehow, knowing what was about to come. 

His teeth grazed your nipple as he dragged away, lifting his head up to smirk. “What do you say, baby, one for the road?”

Baby. Yesterday he’d become quite partial to that word, learning quite quickly what it did to you, what effect it had on you. (Yes, a curse word – or two, or more – may have slipped out of you yesterday… He’d won, embarrassingly soon.) 

You refrained from rolling your eyes, but still told him to shut up. Two minutes later he was buried inside you making you moan out his name. 

It wasn’t even 7am. 

.

.

When Seokjin finally got off to work (after about a bajillion kisses…), you slipped into the shower, attempting to work it without breaking it. With that successful, you wondered downstairs to make some breakfast. It was strange being inside his house alone. You’d arrived to meet him for lunch early a couple of times, yes, but Misook and Arin had always been there ready to greet you. Today it was just you, playing music as loud as you could just to drown out the deafening silence as pottered about in the kitchen. After eating, you washed the dishes (most leftover from yesterday) in the sink, unsure how to set the dishwasher correctly, and wondered to yourself how Seokjin had managed to cope living here alone before Arin moved in… 

You busied yourself with unpacking your case, not having a chance to do it yesterday – too preoccupied – while watching the clock. You had a lunch date with Soojung at half 11. You’d managed to text her a brief reply yesterday but other than that you’d been AWOL. You knew it must’ve been killing her. By the time you met up at the food court, she was frothing at the mouth, desperate for all the details, which you gave to her in hushed whispers over a shared thin crust margherita. You didn’t divulge all though, just enough to keep her nosey butt satisfied. 

“This is not fair at all,” she whined. “You were getting dilfed the hell down and I was getting farted on by Tae.” 

You laughed, wholly impressed. “You’ve turned it into a verb now? Very creative. I’m so glad to have you as a best friend.” 

Although, she wasn’t so happy to have you as one when you confessed to telling Seokjin about his plethora of nicknames… 

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Seokjin came home a little earlier than you’d expected. After lunch with Soo, you’d popped to the local grocery store, picking up a few things for dinner and then you’d sat in front of the television for the afternoon. It wasn’t the most productive day you’d had by any means, but you felt contented, excited to greet Seokjin after his long day at work. You were in the kitchen, beginning to prepare dinner when you heard his voice. 

“Honey?” Before you had time to reply, he was calling your name, closer down the hallway. “Y/N? Where are you?”

“Kitchen,” you called back. 

You weren’t looking when he entered, back to him, so suddenly you were engulfed in his arms from behind. He held your back to his chest tightly. “Hey,” he murmured, nestling into your neck. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” you said with a smile, holding his hands that were around your stomach. 

He shook his head, pressing his crotch to your ass. “No, I really missed you.” 

“Seokjin,” you hissed in surprise, feeling his erection instantly. You were getting déjà vu. Laughing, you wriggled around, facing him. He already had his tie loosened around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt free. “Control yourself. You’ve literally just gotten through the door.” 

His facial expression looked immediately agonised. “I can’t. You’ve awakened the beast.” 

“The beast?” You snorted. 

He stared you down. “Yes.” And then he was on you, no time to return his kiss with just as much enthusiasm before he was at your neck, growling playfully. You fell into a fit of giggles, held prisoner by his hands pinned to your hips. “I was – distracted – all – day.” He informed you between tugs of your skin, tongue dutifully swiping where he’d bitten. He repeated. “Couldn’t stop thinking –  about you naked – and moaning my – name – while I ate your–”

“Seokjin!” you roared, heat instantly travelling up your face. You swore his mouth was getting dirtier by the hour. It made sense. He was teasing in nature… you just needed some time to get used to it. You would not let him finish that sentence for fear your legs would collapse beneath you. 

He broke away and leaned back, pupils so dark you could just about make out the brown of his irises. He panted slightly, lips wet. “Do you want to?” 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Right here?” It didn’t practically look like he was about to sweep you up in his arms and dash you up to the bedroom if the urgent grinding of his crotch was anything to go by…

He grinned wolfishly, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“It’s not very sanitary.” You glanced to your left as you spoke, eyeing up the two bell peppers you’d placed on the counter five minutes before Seokjin and his penis had shown up… 

You watched in pure disbelief as Seokjin eased back and pulled a square foil packet out of his inner breast pocket. “Why? I have protection.” 

“What the hell?” You exclaimed. “Why do you have a condom with you?” He’d gone to work with that in his pocket? Attended meetings? Was he crazy? 

“It’s not what it looks like.” He chuckled, looking momentarily bashful. “I just thought… easy access. We never know when we’ll need one.” 

Folding your arms, you stared at him. Frustratingly you were unable to keep the corners of your lips from quirking up. “We’ll need one at your office?”

He shrugged casually, a smug smirk on his face. “Who knows. I’m a man of very many fantasies…” 

Oh, my god. Unbelievable. But you couldn’t pretend that his words weren’t having an effect on you, nor that the office fantasy didn’t sound hot… You stepped forward, hooking your fingers between his belt and slacks, pulling him forward – which was easy because he was caught off guard. “Enough small talk. Are you going to fuck me in your CEO suit, or what?”

He composed himself expertly, hands reaching for your waist as he leaned in. “First of all, hearing you curse will never not completely obliterate me, and second of all…” He paused to grin, so full of himself it was unbelievable. “You want me to fuck you in my suit?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, tugging on his tie. 

And fuck you in his suit he did, spread on the counter, your tank top yanked down so he could watch your breasts bounce as he pounded into you…

You spent the Tuesday in his home office, making the most out of idle time to lesson plan for your new class come September. You facetimed Soojung (who tried her best to get you to give her a house tour) and then ended up sunbathing with a book for an hour or so outside. After Seokjin came home he called Arin, asking her what she’d been up to so far and if she was having fun. Despite how much he was enjoying your company you could tell he was missing his daughter, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you with words. You sympathised with him, it must have been weird not having her around. 

Unsure what to do for dinner, Seokjin suggested making a last minute dinner reservation. That sounded fine by you, too lazy to think of preparing something tonight, so off you went upstairs to get ready, but of course, Seokjin found ways of distracting you… (You were thirty minutes late for dinner.) 

The days were passing by quickly, and you could quite honestly say the week with Seokjin was bliss – and not just because of all of the sex. Although, it did play a very big role… It was the little things that meant the most, such as grocery shopping on the Wednesday afternoon. Generously, Seokjin had used two of his vacation days for the end of the week, saving the others he was due in the summer to spend with Arin for her birthday at the end of next month. He’d arrived home early on the Wednesday afternoon, informing you he would be making dinner tonight and as silly as it sounded, walking around the store while Seokjin pushed the cart was one of the sweetest activities you’d shared together. The domesticity of it made your whole day, but the pasta dish he prepared later that night almost ruined it. His seasoning quantities were a little off, shall we say, all those years out of practice, so it turned out he was a danger with those chilli flakes. However, the coughing fit you both had after the first bite made for great entertainment… You didn’t know whether you were crying with laughter or because your throat was on fire… 

The next day, as great as staying in bed and having sex all day sounded, Seokjin wanted to take you out and spend some time together as a couple. You were left to decide what you wanted to do, and of course you chose shopping. A new mall had recently opened up about an hour away and because you were so nervy on highways, you hadn’t had a chance to go yet. Seokjin was more than happy to take you, and kindly enough he did spoil you a bit that day. Usually you wouldn’t allow it (he’d tried it in the past), but there was no harm with once in a blue moon, was there? Besides, he got great use out of a few of the gifts too… One being the black skimpy laced lingerie he’d picked out… (The panties had an open crotch…) That evening you shared a bath and a bottle of champagne before you’d given him a very indulgent fashion show… 

On Friday, you prepared a picnic and went hiking, which left Seokjin with an incredibly (and comically) red nose even though he’d applied sunscreen. You spent the afternoon cuddling in front of the television, making the most out of your last day alone together. Truthfully, you felt a little sad at the prospect of tomorrow. You missed Arin too and couldn’t wait to see her but spending your days so intimately and lovingly with Seokjin had been amazing. You told him just as much gone midnight, wrapped up in his arms and bedsheets, head pressed against his sheened chest as you listened to his heartbeat slowly even out. This week had made you fall for him harder – if possible – and you were sad it was ending, but just so excited this was only the beginning… He kissed you long and hard, agreeing wholeheartedly, words unneeded. 

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.

Arin was due back early afternoon, so you and Seokjin shared breakfast together before you packed up your things. He clung to you the entire time, sighing every time you folded up an item of clothing and placed it in your case. 

“How will I function without having sex with you every morning?” He bemoaned after one particularly loud unhappy exhale. 

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” you laughed. He was unbelievable. And whiney. But then again, so were you… 

Stood beside your car an hour later, saying your goodbyes, you hugged him tight. “I’m going to miss youuu.” How were you expected to sleep alone tonight?! It wasn’t fair. 

It was now Seokjin’s turn to chuckle at your ridiculousness. “I’m not going anywhere.” He assured, cupping the back of your head as you pulled back to look at him. His expression softened instantly. “But I feel the same.” Kissing your nose, he smiled. “You know that you can spend the night here anytime you want though, right?” 

You held out until Monday. You wanted to give Arin some time alone with Seokjin after her week away, you bet she’d missed her father like crazy, but apparently she’d missed you too… Seokjin called you while he was at work – his second call of the day. (His first had been at six o’clock this morning, waking you up to let you know he (and his dick) missed you.) Arin had asked him to ask you if you wanted to come over tonight for an impromptu movie night. You were touched to say the least. You let Seokjin know you’d  be there 6pm on the dot with snacks at hand. He told you to bring an overnight bag… 

Having sex with Arin under the same roof took some time to get used to. The first time was so hilarious looking back. It was 1am, time was ticking on and Seokjin had to be awake in under six hours, Arin was long asleep – and across the hall! Yet still you were both anxious fools, listening out for the slightest of noises just in case the unthinkable happened. Not that it would have, Seokjin knew Arin was a heavy sleeper so there was little chance of her barging in… but it still didn’t stop him from whispering “What was that?” every five minutes, eyes pulled wide like a deer caught in headlights. 

It definitely got easier though, and soon movie nights became a regular thing as the last weeks of summer rolled by. You had a routine; one movie of Arin’s choice and then it was her bedtime, and then if Seokjin and you felt like it, you’d choose a movie yourselves to watch. Tonight was a Saturday, so after Enchanted had finished and Seokjin put Arin to bed, you decided to watch something too seeing as he didn’t have work the next morning.

Halfway in, however, you were getting distracted… Your hand sneaking inside the blanket you had wrapped around the both of you to run up and down Seokjin’s thigh. This week had been an odd one. Your boyfriend had been super busy with work and you’d missed him – obviously. You’d done well to keep your hands off him for this long, now you were finally caving…

“I guess this movie is boring?” Seokjin whispered into the darkness, face lit up with a blue glow. His eyes sparkled as your gazes met, your palm hovering over his crotch. He lifted his hips a touch, brushing against you. 

“No,” you grinned, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re just more interesting…” 

He chuckled against your lips. “I definitely agree with that.” 

Groaning, you went to lift your hand away but he snatched it back, pressing you into him, encouraging you to rub. With your tongues entwined, you soon felt his erection stirring, cock stiffening under his sweats. 

It was a wonder you both heard the creak of the wooden floorboards in the hallway – but thankfully you did. Movements stilling, you pulled back. Eyes wide in question, you mouthed, “What was that?”

You both listened out for another noise, hearing the tell-tale sound of footsteps walking towards the movie room. “Arin,” Seokjin breathed, and just like that the moment was over. You broke apart, Seokjin rearranging his junk expertly (a round of applause) before he stood up. 

On cue, a tiny voice sounded from behind the door. “Daddy?”

“Arin, sweetie, what is it?” He asked, walking over to pull it open. 

Arin was stood there, looking perfectly wide awake hugging her rabbit plush. “I can’t get to sleep.” 

“And why’s that?” Seokjin asked. 

She ignored him completely, walking into the room. “What are you watching?”

“A grown-ups movie,” he replied, sounding amused. “Come on, let me take you back upstairs. Say goodnight to Y/N again.” 

Arin whined loudly, turning to her dad. “But I can’t sleeeep!” 

“Maybe she can stay up for a little while?” You suggested, looking over at Seokjin before you turned your attention to Arin. “Until you’re tired, hm, Arin?”

Her face lit up immediately. “I think that’s a great idea, Y/N.” 

You laughed and Seokjin wasn’t close behind, bending down to squeeze Arin’s sides, playfully causing her to squeal. “Do you, little miss?” You met Seokjin’s gaze, both of you coming to terms with the fact your moment had been well and truly ruined. It was fine… You had later on tonight… 

“It’s the weekend, she can stay up a little later than normal, no?” You asked with a smile. 

“Fine,” he mock sighed, pretending to only give in right now. 

Arin cheered in victory, rushing over to sit next to you on the sofa, cuddling in immediately. She had gotten what she’d came downstairs for. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, an action that had become more than normal these past couple of weeks. The more time you spent here, the closer you had become. You were no longer the teacher who had started dating her father. You were now his girlfriend, someone she saw regularly, someone she could laugh and joke around with. Someone she felt comfortable around, and vice versa. You were Y/N. Just as your relationship with Seokjin was growing and developing on the daily, so was your relationship with Arin. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Arin looked up at her father and grinned. “Can we watch another Disney movie, Daddy?” 

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As it happened, Arin didn’t last an hour before she was fast asleep between you both, softly snoring, her bunny fallen forgotten to her side. Deciding to head upstairs too, you followed Seokjin as he carried her to her room, stopping by the entrance to watch him lay her down and place a soft kiss to her forehead. You smiled to yourself, warmth flooding your chest at the touching scene in front of you before you both headed off for Seokjin’s room and began getting ready for bed. 

Seokjin was lying on top of the mattress when you exited the bathroom, knowing you’d left your pyjamas in the closet somewhere. Only, the sight of him sprawled out in baggy shorts and a t-shirt, so casually sexy, had you suddenly distracted. In just your underwear, you viewed him from the end of the bedframe. “Where were we earlier?”

He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know, I think I’m in a Disney Princess coma.” 

Chuckling, you placed a knee on the bed. “You enjoyed yourself really.” Then your hands. Then your other knee. Slowly crawling towards him. “Do you want to enjoy yourself now?”

He immediately sat up, back against the headboard, his eyes falling to your cleavage. He smirked softly. “That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.” 

Ten minutes later you had him in your mouth, knelt to his side, ass facing him as he rubbed and massaged the flesh to his heart’s content. “You’re so good at this,” he praised, his fingers slipping into the side of your underwear teasingly. You sucked him deeper. “Fuck. So good. Baby, let me make you feel good too.” He removed his fingers and ran them along your ass, stopping at your entrance to rub. You were soaked through, could feel it yourself. He moaned. Either because of your tongue or because of what he felt. Maybe both. “So wet and you’re only sucking my cock.”  

You slid your mouth off of him, running your fist up and down the solid and slippery length instead. He jerked his hips into your touch, chasing the pleasure. “Quit inflating your ego,” you quipped. 

He chuckled, turning to his side as his fingers moved up to the waistband of your underwear. “Mm. Like this?” 

You got the message loud and clear, letting him slide the fabric down your ass before settling down on your side too. You ran your fist over the tip of him as he rid you of your underwear altogether, wrapping his arms around your hips to angle your heat towards his mouth. You wriggled as you felt the first press of his tongue, earning you a quick, playful smack to the ass and after that you let him hold you tight, the tip of his tongue digging between your folds to flick against your clit. 

You leaned forward, wanting to return the favour, and sucked him back into your mouth, the angle now making it easier to slip him deeper. You’d never done something like this together before, which was surprising in itself considering the sheer amount of times you’d been unable to keep your hands off each other these past three weeks. It was so erotic hearing him groan against you as he continued to pleasure you, your own moans vibrating down his cock as you both grew more eager, lost in the feeling. 

He came first. It probably had something to do with the way you massaged his balls, concentrating on sucking the tip of him as his hips grew impatient and he began rocking into you. He moaned your name, mouth faltering, and all he could do was grip your ass tight as he felt his orgasm take over, grunting as you swallowed each drop. 

“I win,” you gleed softly, pulling away from him to kiss down his softening length. 

“Of course you do,” he murmured, sounding fucked out. “Fuck, I needed that.” Rolling onto his back, he ran his hands down your thighs. “Come here, let me kiss you.” 

Moving to straddle him, you leaned in and kissed him hungrily, still very much horny, and tasting yourself on his lips didn’t help matters. His hands cupped your bare ass, spreading it slightly so he could run his fingers along your lips, so wet he was sinking in before he could realise. 

You moaned, rocking into him and he cursed softly, pushing his head back into the pillows. He tugged you forward. “This way,” he got out, panting slightly, out of breath from the way you’d kissed him. You understood from the way he was lifting you up where this was going…

Moving up his body, your thighs were soon either side of his head. He wasted no time in lunging forward, mouth picking up where he left off. You held on to the headboard, careful not to press your entire body weight into him for fear of suffocating him. Not that he would mind, you thought… He was all over you, licking and kissing wherever he could reach, hellbent on tasting every inch of you, humming in enjoyment the entire time as you panted. 

You kept your eyes on him, one of your hands moving to caress his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, his forehead on show as well as those deadly eyebrows of his, currently furrowed in determination. When his dark eyes flickered up to your face, you shuddered, moaning loudly. He loved it. It set him off. 

“I love the way you taste so much,” he praised, pulling back to rub his thumb over your clit. You bucked into him, fluttering when he kissed the spot lovingly. “That right then,” he almost rasped. “It’s been a fantasy of mine for a while.” 

In other circumstances you’d 100% shoot a witty comeback his way, but not now – definitely not now.  Not when he was slipping two fingers inside of you right this instant. You were soon rubbing your hips into his face like a woman possessed, needing to feel his tongue again as you choked out a few extra moans. 

“Honey, that’s it,” he encouraged with a long groan. “Ride me a little. You have no idea how much this turns me on. I could get hard all over again.” 

Moaning, turned on by his words, you listened, relief flooding you when you felt the warmth of his tongue against your clit. You moved like you usually did when he had you spread on your back, grinding against his tongue, only this time you had a lot more control – and he seemed to love it, free hand digging into the side of your ass, the other dragging against your walls, making you tremble. With one hand clutching the headboard, the other in his hair you used the leverage to rock against him, the squelchy wet noises fuelling you further, until you were panting and out of breath, unable to take much more. 

You lifted your hips a little, feeling your legs tremble like jello, and let Seokjin kiss the inside of your thighs, his fingers now shallowly fucking you as you attempted to catch your breath. “I love how wet and warm and soft you are,” he groaned. His lips brushed past your clit, breath fanning over you. “You really have the most amazing pussy.” 

“Seokjinn,” you moaned, unable to stop from jerking against his face again. His mouth would be the death of you. He latched his lips against your clit, sucking the bud gently into his mouth over and over again. You were done for, sighs of pleasure rolling out of you as you stared down at him. 

“Mmm, baby? You gonna cum?” He asked, stroking your walls deeper, pressing and curling as he went. You nodded, incoherent noises all you could manage as your thighs tightened. “All over my face?” He prompted. 

You didn’t need much encouraging. 

It was inevitable the need for condoms would become unnecessary soon enough. Which was a shame really, given Seokjin’s bargain hunting, but it wasn’t long before they became a bind – inconvenient, more so. That, and you wanted nothing more than to feel Seokjin bare inside of you, to be as close as physically possible, and nothing could be as close to feeling him come inside you. It had been a while since you’d been on birth control, years obviously, but highly organised and a bit of a control freak, you’d be damned if you ever forgot to pop that pill every goddam day. 

The first time without a condom had been mind-blowing. You were under the impression sex with Seokjin couldn’t get better than it already was, but you were wrong – very wrong. You were home alone, Arin staying with her mom for the night and you were taking full advantage of the opportunity. Who needed dinner at a time like this? But Seokjin (who had now become reacquainted with his culinary skills) insisted on preparing a candlelit meal. It was almost reminiscent of your first time together entirely, Seokjin keen and eager to pull out all the stops, and you teased him to no end. Was coming inside you for the first time really that big of an occasion? His reply: Yes. Very much so yes. 

Not an hour later, half your plates still full and too excited for no more than ten minutes of foreplay, you were both naked, sweaty and way beyond control. The bedsheets were rumpled, barely hanging onto the bed as you rolled around, the pungent smell of sex in the air, and in hindsight, you should’ve knocked the aircon on… 

Not that you had time to think right now. You’d successfully gotten him onto his back, riding him into submission until all he could do was hold onto your breasts and meet each bounce with a roll of his hips. You clutched him to you, hands over his own as you concentrated on the burning pleasure travelling up your body. It had been a couple of weeks since the last time you’d been able to fuck with such abandon. Arin was obviously home 90% of the time and on the odd occasional Seokjin spent the night at your place, Soojung was there (maybe even Tae too), her bedroom right next to yours. 

Seokjin’s hands soon found their way clamped to your hips, pushing you back a little so he could see himself as he thrust up into you. You cried out, the sound of his skin thudding against yours telling you just how hard and fast he was pounding into you. His eyes were glued to where your bodies met and he could see perfectly just how well you were soaking his dick, just how good you were taking it, stretching over his girth. 

“I’m close,” he panted, hips stuttering. He slowed his pace, but kept the pressure, his cock getting deeper. You held on tightly to his thighs, anchoring yourself, your walls clamping down around him. He groaned, feeling every minute sensation without the latex barrier. “I’m so fucking close. Can’t wait to cum inside you.” 

You moaned in response, holding eye contact with him, your face contorted with pleasure, and that seemed to set him off, your pants and sighs of pleasure happening in unison as he sped up one last time, ready to fill you with his cum. The veins in his neck burst as he grunted and his cock twitched, flesh scorching. He fucked you through each wave of his orgasm, holding you still, your body jerking with the force. In the back of your mind you realised come tomorrow morning you’d be sore as hell, but honestly, who cared? 

Carried away, no longer able to think straight, his cock fell out of you with one awry thrust. He was growing flaccid anyway, sensitive, so it was impossible trying to push back inside of you. Which was sad because you were still a mess, warm with his cum and desperate for more relief. You plopped down on his thighs, your breasts rising up and down with each laboured breath and then Seokjin’s eyes caught something. Something seeping out of your body… 

“Fuck.” He half moaned in amazement. “It’s dripping out.” 

After that you didn’t have a moment to think. You were flat on your back before you could truly process his words, his fingertips circling your swollen entrance, smearing his cum in the process. You pulsed in anticipation, body greedy, and he gave it to you swiftly, plunging two fingers inside you. You moaned on impact, feet planted to the mattress as he started snapping his wrist, pushing his cum back into you. 

“Baby, you drive me crazy.” He husked, sounding positively tormented. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you.” All you could do was moan in reply, walls squeezing around his digits as he coaxed you to orgasm. “I can feel it,” he grunted, pressing his body into yours, his mouth chasing for a kiss. Your tongues meshed together urgently, kiss sloppy, done in haste. 

“Seokjinn…” Your voice was a whine and you clutched at his shoulders, closing your eyes when you felt his lips trail down your chin, moving southward, towards the valley of your breasts. 

He growled as your body jerked, his tongue swirling around one of your hard nipples. “You’ve started something now. I’m gonna have to cum in you every single day.” 

You were on fire. His words affecting you in ways you didn’t think were possible. “Don’t s-stop,” you implored, although if anything, he was snapping his wrist even faster now, fingers curved, hitting right where you needed. You moaned loudly. “You always make me feel so good. Mm. I’m-I’m… Fuck.” 

Grunting, your curse ruining him, he made his way back to your mouth. You held him tightly, back stuck to the bed with sweat. “Cum, baby.” He told you. “Please.” 

That sent you over the edge, waves of pleasure rocking your body and he swallowed each one of your moans greedily, his fingers gradually slowing, easing you through your orgasm until he slid out. He pulled back with a drunken grin. “You’re so sexy.” Then he looked down your naked body, sighing in wonder. “God, you’re amazing.” 

“Quit it!” You exclaimed with a laugh, whacking his shoulder. Still very much out of breath. 

Summer continued to fly by, not long left now until you were back at school. As much as the prospect excited you, you couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. Having so much time off had worked out perfectly for your relationship with Seokjin, because even though he was still very much busy with work, you had all the free time in the world to match his schedule. It made you sad to realise there would be no more lunch dates. No more impromptu midweek movie nights. Actually, thinking about it, staying over during the weekday would probably be pretty impossible too – with all the lessons you’d have to plan and the work you’d need to score. In fact, you were about to be a hell of a lot busier from September onwards. 

Seokjin reassured you as best he could. You’d fall into routine soon enough and things would work out. You could still meet up for lunch – he’d drive over and you’d eat in his car if needed, and you could still spend the night on a weekday. He’d wait patiently while you finished up work, make you dinner and then make sure you were asleep by 10pm. You appreciated the sentiment, he always did know how to cheer you up. Although his “Think of it this way, you left school single and now you’re going back with an incredibly kind and insanely sexy boyfriend. I’d call yourself lucky, if I was you.” wasn’t as treasured… He thought he was funny, but he wasn’t at all…

Still, you had two weeks left to go, there was no point being miserable over the inevitable. You’d had the best summer of your life, you were lucky. (Just not in the way Seokjin had implied…)

.

.

“I can’t wait to take this off you tonight,” Seokjin murmured against your ear as he zipped the back of your dress up, insinuation deep in his tone. 

Turning around to face him, you placed your hands on his shoulders. “We can always skip tonight and go straight to the sex.” 

Laughing heartily, he tapped your ass. “Nice try. There’s nothing to be nervous about, okay?” He ignored your grumbling and stepped away, reaching for his cufflinks on the bedside table. “It’s just a dinner, honey.” 

“With a bunch of the country’s richest people,” you exclaimed, feeling sick all over again. Every few months or so Seokjin had dinner with a few of his colleagues. They brought their partners along, and this time Seokjin was ecstatic you would be joining him. You on the other hand were this close to hyperventilating. 

“That’s a small exaggeration,” Seokjin scoffed, cufflinks now attached as he made his way back to you. He cupped your waist, tilting his head to the side with a smile. “Besides, your boyfriend is included in that bunch. Are you nervous around me to?”

“Shut it,” you muttered, reaching to straighten his bow tie. He looked amazing in his suit tonight, hair parted to the side. Skipping dinner seemed like an excellent idea… But when he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, you knew you couldn’t. Seokjin was looking forward to “showing you off.” (His exact words.) I’m not a trophy, you’d shot back, but of course you knew he hadn’t meant it like that. It was sweet actually. He was proud. And happy. And cute. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you hugged him close. He nosed your neck, humming happily before nipping a patch of skin with his teeth, growling playfully. “Seriously, I can’t wait to rip this dress off you.” 

You squealed as he began to tickle your sides, trying to push him away. “Stop, you’ll crease it.” 

“It’s fine,” he reassured, easing up to gaze at you. “You’ll still look stunning. Always do.” The black floor-length dress you were in was nothing you were used to, and maybe that’s why your nerves were worse than what they should be but knowing Seokjin liked what he saw helped ease your reservations. How could it not? He always made you feel like a million dollars. 

He was looking forward to tonight, so you should try to as well… You had nothing to worry about. 

.

.

You really didn’t. 

The night was a success. Despite your lives being vastly different, you got along with Seokjin’s colleagues well. They seemed like lovely people, especially the wife of Seokjin’s CFO. She was around your age, a couple of years older maybe, and you bonded over your favourite book series like a pair of nerds. You both left with a recommended reading list saved into your phones, numbers exchanged with plans of encouraging one another to read more. Seokjin was delighted you’d enjoyed yourself so much and you spent the chauffeured car journey to your place talking about the night. 

Although, as soon as you got inside was an entirely different story altogether. It had already been pre-decided that Seokjin would spend the night with you, Misook babysitting Arin at his home, and you soon realised that he had not been messing around when he’d informed you he was going to rip the dress off you. You weren’t even up the stairs before he was attempting to unzip you, bumping his crotch into your ass with every step as he kissed your neck, blowing raspberries as he went. 

“Shhh. Shush,” you giggled, trying your best to whisper successfully. “They may be still awake.” You knew Taehyung was staying over tonight too, he’d been here spread out on the couch before you’d left for Seokjin’s place this afternoon. 

“Better get you to your room quickly then.” He said confidently, pouncing on you at the top step as he wrapped his arms around your middle. 

You bit back a squeal, shoving your foot into his shin. “Seokjin!” 

In the privacy of your bedroom, you shut the door tight, turning back to see your boyfriend already stripping out of his tux jacket. He didn’t have shoes on either and as you looked around for them, spotting nothing, you realised he must have kicked them off back downstairs. When?! He reached for you, running his hands down your curves before they settled on your ass. He looked at you as if he wanted to eat you. Your stomach stirred, only now realising exactly where tonight was heading. He really hadn’t been bluffing… 

“Did I tell you how stunning you looked tonight?” He asked, popping his bowtie off and unbuttoning his shirt halfway. His collarbones sharp enough to cut, the outline of his chest clear enough to make you dribble. 

You chuckled, although you could hear the aroused tremble so obviously. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.” 

He smiled your way, although it was more like a smirk, and stalked towards you. “Turn around.” 

You obeyed in an instant. His fingers reaching for the zip of your dress. It was already halfway down – something you hadn’t realised. (He was obviously somewhat success back in the hallway.) As he revealed the expanse of your back he kissed the nape of your neck, gently pushing the straps over your shoulders to let the fabric slide down. With an expert snap he had your bra loose, removing that too, and it fell to the floor in front of you, hands reaching forward to cup your breasts, fingertips pinching your nipples. You moaned, disappointed when he moved, but then he started mouthing down your spine as he helped the dress along, surprising you when he crouched down, and then inevitably got on his knees, pushing the garment past your hips. He groaned when he saw your thong, lips parting to caress you with his tongue. 

“You have the most perfect ass,” he gruffed against the skin, giving you a squeeze. “Have I ever told you that? Could worship it all night.” 

Please, you wanted to murmur, but you held back, biting down on your lip as you felt him sink his teeth into one of your ass cheeks. What was with him tonight? You could already feel your arousal collecting between the small band of your panties. It wasn’t going to hold for long. 

“Let’s get you out of this dress.” Despite his casual tone, he tugged the garment harshly, causing you to stumble at the sudden movement. 

“Seokjin!” You chided lightly, clutching onto one of his hands now at your hip. “I still have my heels on, could’ve broken my ankle.” 

“I was here to keep you safe,” he assured you with a chuckle, and then as an afterthought, “Maybe you could keep them on while we…” 

You bumped your butt into his face, silently telling him to shut it, and kicked the footwear off, now able to remove your dress easily. Seokjin stood, spinning you to face him, mouth pressing into yours with haste. He kissed you passionately, wrapping his arms around you, holding you to him, your breasts pushed up against his chest. He was still clothed, but you could feel his erection pressing into your stomach. You wanted to touch it, but your hands were too busy caught up in his hair. 

“Bed,” he panted up against your mouth, practically lifting you up to push you down on the mattress. You settled on your elbows, watching him as he tore open the rest of his shirt buttons, throwing the item to the floor, his well-defined torso now on full display. 

He pounced on you, kissing you hungrily once more, so hungrily in fact, you needed to pull away to catch your breath. He moved to your cheek, wet kisses finding their way to your ear. Sensitive, you had to push him away with a hand to the chest. “Sorry, am I being too much?” He murmured, lips sticky. 

You shook your head with a shaky giggle. “I just can’t keep up.” 

“Just lay back and enjoy, baby.” His tone was reassuring, encouraging, and insanely sexy. He lifted your hips, scooting you up the bed to rest your head on the pillows. “Can you do that for me?” 

“Of course.” You watched him raise up on his knees, the clank of his belt making you pulse down below as he undid it. He unzipped his pants but made no effort to take them off, running his palm once along the curve of his length before he crawled over you. He placed a sweet kiss to your mouth, smiling as he pulled away. “Did you notice I didn’t go for dessert tonight?” Puzzled, you stayed silent waiting for him to explain. His smile widened, more of a grin now – a very amused one at that. “I was saving myself for something tastier.” 

You scoffed. He was unbelievable, but it was easy to let him get away with such corny lines. Especially when he had you spread out near naked on your own bed. “Lame!” You exclaimed, immediately clamping your hand across your mouth. You needed to remember to keep quiet, Soojung and Taehyung were asleep next door, but you were feeling uncharacteristically unbothered tonight, too eager and excited.  

He chuckled at your silliness. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard them have sex before. Think of it as payback.” 

His nonchalance was pretty attractive so you let his words ease your mind. Although maybe it had more to do with the way he was trailing kisses down your stomach… He leaned back to spread your legs, already bent at the knee. You were pretty sure your thong was doing nothing to protect your modesty anymore.  

He confirmed your assumption with a sharp intake of breath. “Honey, you’re soaking. I haven’t even done anything yet.” You braced yourself, waiting to feel the brush of his finger, but instead it was the softness of his tongue. He licked a strip up your clothed mound, a noise of delight rumbling from him. You pulsed uncontrollably, eager for more. 

He gave it to you. Lips wrapping around your hidden clit, tongue laving, soaking the delicate material even more. Your legs instantly squeezed around his head, unsure what to do with the sudden influx of pleasure before you moaned, rocking your hips into him gently. 

He eased away slightly, replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing skilled circles that caused you to squelch. “Love your pussy so much,” he murmured, going back for more hastily. 

You moaned again at his words, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you, but it wasn’t long before he was kissing back up your stomach, mouth now attaching itself to one your nipples. Your hands flew to the back of his head, looking down at him as he flicked the bud with his tongue, moaning as he did so. It was such an erotic sight you felt speechless, and when his chocolatey brown eyes met yours, pooling with desire, you felt beside yourself. 

“Turn around.” He whispered, roughly. “On your knees for me?” 

You had never listened so fast in all your life, scrabbling on your hands and knees in record time. You waited as patiently as you could, ass in the air, anticipating his next move. You startled when you felt a puff of air against your entrance, the sound of Seokjin’s sticky lips loud in your ears. “You look so good in this thong,” he praised, snapping the thin line of fabric between your ass. 

Pushing into him, you smirked. “I wore it just for you.” 

He hummed – in contemplation almost – before he pulled your panties to the side and dove straight in with his mouth. You yelped, ducking your head at your volume. You’d been expecting him to go straight to the sex, not continue to eat you out. He’d never done it in this position before – it felt amazing. A noise dragged from his throat as he pulled away, fingers dipping under the sides of your panties to drag them over your ass impatiently. As he did so, he bit into your ass, his hands now spreading your thighs, exposing you more so he could bury his face between your legs. 

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue but nothing could prepare you for the pleasure he was about to inflict on you. He flicked his tongue out against your clit, nose and mouth pressed flush against your heat, hands rooted to your ass and you moaned right away, bucking into him instinctively. Unable to hit your clit as well as he usually could he slid his mouth along your slit, tongue beginning to lick at your entrance, sucking your inner lips gently into his mouth as he did so. You were soaking, could feel yourself starting to drip down the inside of your thighs, but Seokjin didn’t seem to have a care in the world, lapping you up as if he was a man dying of thirst, rough moans letting you know just how much he was enjoying himself – enjoying you. 

When you felt his tongue push inside you, you jolted, sensation instantly making your thighs squeeze together. Not that they could with Seokjin hunched between them. He began to experimentally push in and out of you, noticing the way you tensed around him and hearing the way your breathing got shallower. Wordlessly, his hand reached forward, around your thigh to hook between your legs and start rubbing your clit with his fingers. With his other hand he gently (but firmly) pushed down at the small of your back, your ass rising higher, giving him better access to keep fucking you with his tongue. With the added stimulus you could feel yourself breaking, knees trembling, pushed hard against the mattress. He felt so warm, and wet, and just incredible. Your moans got more frequent, heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

“That feels so good.” You managed to choke out, your orgasm so close you could taste it. That’s usually when you gabbled. “Right there. Don’t stop!” He listened, speeding up his movements, the squelch getting louder as he grunted in exertion. He sounded so hot it just turned you on even more, and you lifted your ass higher, pushing into each thrust of his tongue. He rubbed your clit desperately, determined to push you ever the edge. 

You gasped, unsure how else to stay quiet as more words rushed out of you. “Seokjin–! I’m going to– Oh, my god, I’m coming!” Burying your face into the pillows your moans turned muffled as you came, white hot pleasure bursting through your veins. So sated, you couldn’t even find it in you to feel embarrassed with how loud he’d just made you orgasm. 

His finger moved away first, clit pulsing against nothing as he massaged the round of your ass instead, coating you in your own arousal, before his tongue eased off, placing a delicate kiss to your entrance as a goodbye. 

The mattress shifted under his weight as he moved back a couple of inches and you heard him slide his belt out of the trouser loops, the sound flying straight to your core. He stripped behind you quickly, you couldn’t even bring yourself to take a peek, too dazed, yet your imagination worked quite well. Instead, you kept kneeling for him, waiting for his return. 

He wasn’t even a minute. You felt the warmth of his dick press against the small of your back as he made his way closer once again. 

“Are you ready for me?” Despite the deepness of his voice – how obviously he was affected – you could hear the care in his tone as he checked in on you.  

“So ready,” you insisted, jutting into his thighs. 

He chuckled, pushing his dick between your legs now, sliding it across your slit. You were still sensitive, squirming against him, but you were also still so greedy, so you let him do what he wanted, soaking his cock along your wetness unhurriedly. You were so distracted by his movements, the smack he suddenly landed on your ass had you yelping more so from shock than sting. If you weren’t so drunk with pleasure right now you’d chew him out for being so loud. 

“Did that hurt?” He asked curiously, voice dripping danger. You felt your gut squeeze. That was new. He’d slapped your ass before but never with that much intent. The sting melted into your skin as he massaged the spot. “Mm, baby?” He pressed, voice now dripping honey. “Do you like pain?” He spanked you again but this time you were ready, biting down on your lip. “Like it when I’m mean to you?” 

You nodded, some type of agreeing noise leaving your throat which seemed to appease him. He rubbed your ass soothingly, the head of his cock now dragging across your entrance. How he had this much patience was beyond you. You could not relate. 

“Quit teasing.” You whined. Put it in me.” 

“Don’t be a brat, honey.” He chuckled, but he pushed ever so slightly into you. He let out a sharp exhale, starting to fuck you shallowly with the tip, hands at his sides. You squeezed around nothing, flinging your head back frustratingly. “Seokjin!” You wanted him to fuck you. And touch you. 

Chuckling again, throatily, he pushed an inch deeper. He wasn’t even halfway inside of you. “I want to antagonise myself. Shush.” But he gripped your ass, pulling you apart slightly to slowly push inside of you all the way. You both groaned with the drag, taking a breather as you squeezed around him, getting used to the feeling. You always felt so full in this position, trembling around his crazy big dick. 

Soon he began to move, sliding in and out of you with intense concentration. You couldn’t see him but you knew his gaze was welded to where your bodies met, watching himself disappear inside you over and over again. “You’re the tease, Y/N,” he murmured,  picking up the pace. You could hear yourself squelching around his girth. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He felt you pulse and his breath hitched. 

Bunching the meat of your ass in his fists, he pounded into you for a few moments, holding you still, making you take it. You whimpered, trying your best to stay quiet. “Always take my cock so well. Don’t you, baby?” 

“Ye-ess.” Your voice broke, a moan tearing through you as he rammed himself deep inside , stopping dead. “Fuck, Seokjin.” You were burning up. You needed him to move before you sobbed. 

With precision, he started fucking you slowly, bottoming out each time, revelling in your warmth, your wetness. It was so intense your eyes started to water, trying your best to stay as silent as possible but each breath was sounding more and more like a moan. You could hear yourself squelching around him every time he moved. So could he. 

“I love that,” he said, voice tight, as if he was trying his best to keep calm. “I’m gonna cum so deep in you tonight. Fill you up good.” 

You moaned loudly this time. It was always hot to hear your well-spoken boyfriend fall off into the deep end, articulation deteriorating with each thrust. It turned you on like no tomorrow. “Please do,” you urged, walls clamping around him at the very thought. 

He lost it at that, begging with your words and your body, and it wasn’t long before his movements were speeding up, his hips snapping against your ass as he held it tight. “Can you cum again?” He sounded frantic. 

“M-maybe – oh.” You jolted, feeling Seokjin’s fingers at your clit.  

“I really want you to cum again for me.” His fingers became persistent, rubbing circles against your sensitivity. 

Holding your breath, you concentrated. On each thrust, how good his dick was, how the motions on your clit felt. Everything… You willed your second orgasm, feeling it start to be pulled out of you. You started to meet each of his thrusts, skin slapping as your sweaty bodies worked together. “Yes, yes, yes, yes–!” You urged with each thud, so close you were trembling. Your voice broke as the sensation took over, moan turning into a squeak as you tried to shut up. 

This time your orgasm was shorter, but it didn’t make it any less intense. In fact, it immediately exhausted you. “Shit. Fuck.” You mumbled, pretty much collapsing into the bed, Seokjin wedged deep inside you. 

“You feel different.” He groaned. You felt him twitch. “Love that feeling.” Ever so carefully, he drew back, hands gliding along your back. “I’m okay to finish?” 

“Yes,” you nodded, turning to press your cheek to the pillow. You jutted your ass out, feeling him slide back in almost involuntarily, your tightness calling him back. “Be quick though.” You were tired – and sensitive. Still horny though…

He found that amusing, chuckling throatily. “I promise you I will. I’m so fucking close.” He pulled back again, grunting. He was taking his time, easing you into it. “Ngh. I’m almost too big for you now. You’re squeezing so much.” 

You moaned in reply, loving the way he held your hips firm and rolled into you, slowly fucking you into the mattress. 

“Tell me how much you’re loving it,” he pretty much pleaded, ever so slightly speeding up. 

“I love it so much.” You professed. “You have n-no idea.” You jerked forward as he hit deep, crying out. “Seokjinn! Please. Go a little faster.” 

He grunted, sounding smug. “You want my cum.” You moaned in reply. “Say it for me.” He demanded. “Please, baby, say it for me.” 

“I want your cum,” you moaned. 

And that was enough. With a strangled cry he began to snap his hips faster and faster, fucking you hard, chasing his end. It didn’t take long. A minute later he rammed himself deep, stiffening as he came inside you, groan of relief loud as all the tension left his body. “Shit.” He muttered, collapsing on top of you, careful not to press his full body weight into you. 

He held your shoulders, nuzzling into you as he slid to your side. You used what was left of your energy to turn around, letting him smother you with kisses. “That was… I don’t know what came over me.” He exclaimed. 

“It was amazing,” you gushed, running a hand down his sticky chest. You could spot your arousal, now dried to his face, his hairline damp with perspiration. You leaned in for a kiss, pulling back when he began to laugh. You looked at him puzzled. 

“You want my cum,” he gleed.

“Get lost!” You groaned, pushing him away. He rolled onto his back, his chest still rising visibly as he caught his breath. 

“I need the bathroom,” he announced, standing and looking around. “My bag? I thought Misook said she dropped it off for me?” 

Sitting up, you glanced around. “Maybe Soo left it downstairs.” She’d probably thought you’d spot it by the door when you arrived home. You’d been too distracted… “Wear my robe.” You suggested. 

“That?” Seokjin questioned, looking sceptically at the pink fluffy nightgown hooked onto your closet door. 

“Why not? You’ll look cute.” 

“True,” he agreed, turning to reach for it.

“Nice ass.” You had a great view from here. 

“Hey,” he whined, throwing the robe on quickly to hide his modesty. 

“What, you have a really nice ass for a forty year old!” You insisted. 

He clicked his tongue. “Now that’s just rude.” 

You giggled as he left, calling out a not very believable sorry after him. A few minutes later you heard Soojung’s door open, footsteps in the hallway and then, voices. Taehyung and Seokjin’s. They’d bumped into each other. You laughed to yourself, imagining how awkward it must be for them right now. Amazing. Twenty seconds later Seokjin and your fluffy robe were shooting through the door. 

“Oh, my god.” Seokjin grimaced. “That was so awkward. Taehyung wanted the bathroom as I was leaving.” 

“I heard,” you chuckled, amused by your boyfriend’s unnecessary mortification. 

He laid on the bed, groaning. “We had to small talk. He was in his boxers… I think he knew we’d just had sex.” 

“Yeah, he probably heard us too…” 

Seokjin made a noise of discomfort. He wasn’t so sure of himself now, was he? You rolled your eyes and reached for him, gathering the collar of your gown in your hands to kiss him. You grinned. “You look really sexy in my pink fluffy gown.” 

He hummed against your mouth, “I know, right?” He didn’t need persuading when you pulled him over you, untying the middle of the robe before pushing the fluffy garment over his broad shoulders. His dick was soft, but he was eager if the way he kissed you was anything to go by. It made you feel guilty when you inevitably pushed him away, robe victoriously clutched in your arms. 

“Where are you going?” He whined, watching you stand. 

You slipped into the nightgown, smiling cutely. “I need to pee.” 

.

.

When you woke up the next morning there was a text waiting for you from your beloved best friend… 

Soojung (08:12am) Tae just told me he woke up and heard you guys having s e x last night  Then he bumped into Seokjin who was wearing ur robe  I’m glad I’m a heavy sleeper  But he said it sounded like you were having a GREAT time 😏  Dilf got movesss 😳

The embarrassment! 

Today was a very important day, according to one little person. Arin’s seventh birthday. She’d mentioned it almost every single day since August had arrived. Seokjin had worked really hard organising her a garden party, inviting all their family and friends, including a couple of her friends from school. You were a bit nervous about that, knowing you’d be met with a few curious questions but there were more pressing issues at hand... You were about to meet Seokjin’s parents for the first time. (As well as numerous other members of his family, but a girl could only worry about so many things at once.) 

He’d already met your family a couple of weeks previous – joining you for lunch with your mom one afternoon and then accompanying you for dinner at your father’s house a few days later. Seokjin had taken it in his stride, so even if he was a little nervous he never once showed it. He was good at that, you admired him for that. You on the other hand were this close to breaking out into a nervous sweat. 

You were thankful Arin had you preoccupied all morning, insisting on helping Misook and you put up the decorations for her own birthday party. Helpful as always, although be it a little buzzed. Scrap that, a lot buzzed. She was still on a high from celebrating her birthday with her mom for a couple of days. She’s only gotten back yesterday afternoon, and that’s when Seokjin had surprised her with two pet rabbits – one snowy white, the other midnight black. Her excitement levels were through the roof today. Seokjin had called you this morning informing you he’d been woken up at 5am and he needed your assistance ASAP because he couldn’t handle a hyperactive birthday girl all on his own the entirety of the morning… 

By 1pm some of the guest had already started arriving; Seokjin’s brother and his wife, along with their two twin boys who were a couple of years younger than Arin. Aunts and uncles, and a few cousins, Seokjin’s friend Namjoon, who had two children; a 9 year-old daughter and a four year-old son, and then a few of Arin’s friends, some from various clubs she attended and two you recognised from school. They recognised you too of course, and you overheard Arin adorably telling them that you were her “daddy’s girlfriend.” No matter how much time past, and no matter how natural this all felt now, you were still so happy that Arin was on board with all this. It was the best feeling. 

Seokjin’s parents were the last to show up seeing as they lived quite far away, and you waited nervously to meet them as your boyfriend took their luggage upstairs to one of the guest rooms. Meeting his brother and his friend and the rest of his family hadn’t been bad at all, so you were feeling very optimistic by now. Still, you could hear your heart beating frantically when you saw Seokjin leading them into the kitchen where you were blowing some last minute balloons. 

“You must be Y/N,” his mom greeted with a smile, arms wide as she walked towards. With a quick embrace she kissed you on the cheek. Seokjin had warned you about that. 

“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you,” you smiled back, relaxing slightly down to her warm attitude. (It also helped Seokjin had taken place by your side, arm brushing against yours.) You glanced towards his father, greeting him with the same smile and he gave you a nod, a friendly “Likewise,” leaving his lips. Seokjin had also let you know that his father was the silent, polite type. Seokjin was similar. They even looked quite alike. His mom was slim and elegant, and incredibly beautiful. 

“You’re even prettier than your pictures,” she informed you, taking your hands in hers. 

“Pictures?” You chuckled nervously, glancing up at Seokjin. 

He groaned quietly. “I may have sent her a couple of us together. My mom’s very nosey. Dad not so much.” 

“Oh,” you blurted, hearing his father laugh. You smiled coyly back at Mrs. Kim. “Thank you.” 

“Nonsense. I’m not nosey,” she insisted, raising an eyebrow at her son. “Curious, I’d call it.” 

Seokjin chuckled. “Of course, mom – Oh!” Something caught his attention out of the window and he rushed off, opening the sliding glass door to stick his head out. “Arin, your grandparents have arrived. Come say hi.” 

Mrs. Kim let go of your hands as Arin came dashing in like a hyper puppy. “Grandma! Grandpa!” She squealed, throwing herself into her grandfather’s arms. “It’s my birthday!” 

“Is it?” He asked, playing clueless, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. “Of course it is!” He kissed her cheek. “Happy birthday, pumpkin.” 

“Happy birthday, Arin. Are you having fun so far?” Her grandma asked, fluffing her hair. Arin went to hug her next. “What gifts did you get? We have yours in the car, but you have to wait until later, okay?” 

Arin nodded, before proceeding to talk all about her day. She didn’t come up for air, which was highly amusing for all four of you. However, inevitably, she got bored, her hand slipping into yours, tugging it gently for your attention. “Y/N, can we go and see if the buffet is ready now?”

“Of course we can.” You glanced at your watch, then up at Seokjin who was doing the same. It was half past two, you’d agreed to start eating at 3pm. Arin’s senses were perfect. 

“No sneaking anything off the table, young lady.” Seokjin told her. “Especially not cake. You won’t have to wait long.”

Arin couldn’t help but giggle at that, already beginning to drag you off. 

.

.

You were on your way back from the lower floor bathroom when you bumped into Seokjin’s mother again. She was stood by the dining room entrance, rooting around in her purse, pulling out her cell phone. “Oh, Y/N, dear, I was just getting my phone so I could take a few pictures of Arin. I need to show them to my mother. She’s a bit too old to make the journey down here.” 

“Awh, that’s a shame,” you replied, coming to a halt politely. 

With a nod, she changed the subject. “I’m so glad the weather is hot for her birthday.”

“I know. She’s been so excited, hasn’t been able to stop talking about it for the past month,” you laughed. The party had been a success, the food and games going down a treat. It had been a long time since you’d attended a child’s birthday party – your siblings were long past that age, and you’d forgotten how fun they could be, even if you were much older now.

Being surrounded by Seokjin’s family wasn’t as nerve-wracking as you’d initially thought. They were all so lovely – not that you didn’t expect anything less, of course, you were just thankful you could hold a natural conversation with his mom. 

“She really likes you. I can tell.” Mrs. Kim said out of the blue, surprising you, but you tried to hide it well.

Smiling softly, you replied, “I’m fond of her too.” 

“I heard you were her teacher?”

“For a short while.” You nodded. “That’s how Seokjin and I met.” But you guessed she already knew that, you know, mother’s curiosity and all. 

Her mouth quirked up and then she snorted. “My son definitely knows how to make an impression. I heard he hit your car?”

Laughing, you’d been correct. He had told her how you’d met. “Yeah, but I try not to tease him too much about that anymore.” 

“It sounds like fate, no?” She smiled, before shaking her head and raising a hand. “Sorry, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. The first time my husband and I set eyes on one another it was love at first… You probably don’t want to hear about that,” she chuckled. You opened your mouth, ready to disagree, but she spoke again. “I just… I haven’t seen Seokjin this happy in a very long time. Not since Arin was born.” 

Speechless, you tried to think of something to say. Just what? “Oh, I –”

“What are you two conspiring about in here?” 

You heard Seokjin’s voice from behind you and turned to see him walking towards you both with a grin on his face. When he reached you he cupped your waist, kissing you on the cheek. His mom watched on fondly. 

“Nothing… much,” she replied, a teasing lilt to her voice. It caught his attention. “I was just telling Y/N that I haven’t see you this happy in years.” 

“Mo-mm,” he whined, immediately growing red. 

“What? I’m just speaking the truth, Seokjin,” she laughed and looked in your direction. “He gets embarrassed so easily. Have you noticed?” 

“I have,” you laughed along. 

Smiling tenderly at him, she stepped forward and touched his arm. “I’ve loved hearing my son laugh all afternoon.” Seokjin dropped his head, even more embarrassed now. He was cute. “Okay.” She clapped her hands, taking pity on him. “That’s enough from me. I’ll leave. Your father’s probably on his third slice of cake by now…” Kissing Seokjin’s cheek softly, she began to walk off. “You love me really.” 

“Of course,” Seokjin called, turning to you once she’d left, heading back in the direction of the garden. “Sorry about that.” 

You chuckled. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We were just talking.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him. “You’re cute.” 

“You’re never too old to be embarrassed by your mom,” he muttered, kissing the top of your head. Snorting, you leaned back, but he held you tight, gazing into your eyes. “You look really pretty today.” 

“You say that every day.” 

“Because it’s true.” He kissed your lips, stopping any clever remark you may have had dead. 

Instead, as he pulled away, you brought your hands up to his chest, straightening the collar of his shirt. “Let’s get back outside. I’m enjoying myself.” 

“I’m glad.” Seokjin beamed, eyes twinkling. 

At that moment, it hit you how happy he looked… You’d not really noticed it prior, but now his mom had pointed it out it was so obvious. 

You hoped he could tell just how happy you were too… It was all down to him, after all.  

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021