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andvys · 1 year ago

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe <;3

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Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up.

He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.

How will he keep going?

Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one.

The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment.

“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles.

The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.”

“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer.

The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar.

“Hey Tony.”

Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling.

“Hey Ed, how’s it going?”

Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?”

Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.”

“With what?”

Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.

“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.”

“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve.

“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?”

Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is.

“Get lost, freak.”

“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness.

“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back.

Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read.

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either.

Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales.

It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room.

Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave.

Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about?

Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing?

How did you even meet him?

You never even talked to him when you were still with him.

“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.”

Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.”

“Tell your old man to come by too.”

“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves.

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie.

“Hey! This is too much, kid!”

“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there.

Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up.

“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes.

Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van.

“What do you want, Harrington?”

Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.

“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him.

Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?”

Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now.

“You’re the stoner.”

Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.”

Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?”

Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?”

“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily.

A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation.

“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up.

“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?”

The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t.

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around.

“Put those keys away, dude.”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion.

“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”

Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson.

“I’ll walk.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”

It’s not about that, it’s about you.

Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance.

“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.”

Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van.

Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”

Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on.

“Your music sucks.”

“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.

Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot.

The song takes him back to last year, back to you.

“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap.

“A Song?" He asked, chuckling.

You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist.

“Uh– probably, Heroes.”

“By David Bowie?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.

“Isn’t it sad though?”

Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did.

“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,

and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?”

Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing.

He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”

“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!”

“Then keep going.”

“No,” you giggled.

“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips.

“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang.

You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed.

“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.”

“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat.

Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest.

Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve.

“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like?

Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie.

“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van.

Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.

Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew.

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault.

He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little.

“We’re here.”

Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley.

“I miss her.”

Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat.

“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”

“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?”

Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick.

“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”

Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again.

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”

Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that.

“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.”

Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods.

“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.”

Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?”

Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much?

Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him.

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more.

“Spit it out, dude.”

Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm.

“T-Take care of her?”

Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.

“I will.”

Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit.

He walks away when he feels like breaking down again.

He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips.

He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how?

How?

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up.

How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable.

Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle.

Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick.

She hums, glancing at you through your mirror.

Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave.

“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?”

“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.

She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray.

“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.”

Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie.

“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”

You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”

“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.

“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face.

“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”

“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her.

She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.

You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face.

“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night.

You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you.

She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.

The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.

The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones.

Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave?

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks.

You nod, smiling at her.

“You seem a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.”

“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes.

Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned.

“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.”

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.”

“As always,” you snort.

“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you.

“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”

She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you.

“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.”

He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously.

“Y/n?” Heather glares at you.

“Have fun, babe.”

You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it.

You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates.

A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup.

“Hey.”

You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”

You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing.

He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness.

“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch.

“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse.

He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”

You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it.

You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away.

You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him.

You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink.

You wish you would have stayed at home.

You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks.

You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.

His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened.

He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly.

None of it makes sense to you.

If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened?

Why is he still with her?

Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along?

The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill?

Are they already going downhill?

Is that why he told you he still loves you?

So that he has someone to come back to?

You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse.

Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep.

It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better.

You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat.

“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?”

Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.

A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”

“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”

You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart!”

He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.”

“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head.

He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.”

You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always.

“You look amazing, Eddie.”

He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up.

“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.

You can’t even help but giggle.

“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance.

He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”

Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?”

He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes.

“My knight in shining armor,” you tease.

He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them.

A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear.

"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders.

“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.

“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh.

Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear.

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.

Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do.

Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.

You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”

Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”

“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly.

“Okay,” she smiles.

When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him.

But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden.

His are filled with longing and sadness.

Yours are filled with indifference.

You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself.

Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

"Yes, please."

next part

only tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things angst

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immortalmrwavell · 28 days ago

Text

Half a Pill

(Original story posted December 11th 2021 and December 17th 2021) Minor Edits and Corrections

This story was originally split up into two parts and posted separately. This time however I’ve decided to reupload both parts as one story for an easier reading experience. I’ve also updated the model for part 1.

(Part 1)

James and Cain had been together for just over 3 years. They’d always seemed to have such a great relationship and usually got on super well. They just loved spending time together. It was as if the honeymoon phase of their relationship had never ended.

However James began to feel a bit uneasy after Cain’s mum got together with a new fella named Dave. She only dated him for a few months before he proposed to her and the two got married! But that wasn’t what worried James. It was that he’d begun to notice his boyfriend’s eyes towards his new Step-Dad every now and then. And not in an appropriate way. Scanning over the older man’s body. Gazing at his bulge. But if James ever asked, he already knew Cain would deny it. Not that he needed to ask. It was obvious Cain had a crush for the older man.

However despite this, James knew Cain would never do anything to betray him… but that didn’t stop him from feeling a little uneasy. He couldn’t just ignore the fact that his boyfriend was very clearly checking out his own Step-Dad on a regular basis. Though to be fair James couldn’t totally blame him. Dave was an incredibly hot mature man and even James had found himself stealing a couple glances at the man here and there.

Even after a year of this, James was still trying to come to terms with the situation. This is until one day when something seemingly impossible happened.

One of James’ friends Kyle had called him into the office building Kyle worked at and told him about this strange pill he got from an old woman claiming to be a Witch. Apparently the pill was imbuded with powerful magic that would only work if the pill was broken in half. To activate its power, two individuals must each consume one half of the pill. Once they do, they’ll trade bodies!

Of course neither of them actually believed it was real but Kyle decided he was gonna try it for a laugh if anything else. James watched as Kyle cracked the pill in half before eyeing another man in the office. Ryan. He’d been Kyle’s work crush for a while now and James knew all about it. Kyle carefully slipped one half into Ryan’s coffee taking the other half of the pill himself.

James was stunned when moments after Ryan had taken a gulp of his coffee, both his and Kyle's eyes rolled back as their bodies jittered and convulsed for a good few moments. It soon subsided but James could immediately tell the man before him was no longer his friend Kyle but rather Ryan in his body!

Ryan began freaking out for a moment before seeing his own body burst into the small office, now piloted by Kyle. It was clear Kyle was ecstatic with his new body as he ran his hands over Ryan’s dress shirt, feeling his new perfectly sculpted body underneath.

“HEY!�� W-WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!… Y-y-you look like… ME!?” Ryan exclaimed in shock as he looked up at his former body. Then glancing down at himself to see a pudgy body that certainly didn’t belong to him.

“Fuuuck yeah I do.” Kyle smirked triumphantly, still rather shocked himself that the pill was real after all. “Mmmm… I can’t believe that actually worked! Fuuuuu…” Kyle groaned to himself as he groped his crotch, feeling Ryan’s thick cock starting to harden.

The three men then spent the next half an hour figuring things out. James tried to keep Ryan from having an emotional outburst over his body being stolen however it didn’t help when Kyle just wouldn't stop feeling himself up. He even undid his belt and dropped his suit pants at one point to get a better look at his new ass. The one he once thirsted after and Ryan once owned. Now belonging to Kyle. He just loved how toned it was. Only pulling his pants back on after when James told him to stop being a dick.

James told Ryan that he would try his best to help him get back his original body (bit of a lie) but for now he’d have to pretend to be Kyle. Ryan agreed reluctantly, glaring at Kyle before telling him to not fuck up his body. With that James walked Ryan out of the tiny office and into the hallway. He gave Ryan directions to Kyle's home along with a pair of keys before sending the apprehensive man on his way.

When James stepped back into the small office however he was greeted by a sight that both shocked and annoyed him… and also kinda turned him on? There stood Kyle in the middle of the room, zipper undone yet again and holding Ryan’s hard pulsing cock in his hand.

“Jesus dude! Really?!” James said in a disappointed tone. “Can you not keep your pants on for just 5 minutes??”

“Hey sorry! I couldn’t help it. Ryan is sooo fuckin hot and being in his body is making me soooooo horny…” Kyle started pumping his new uncut cock, a look of glee plastered on his face.

James found himself just staring at the man jerking off for a good few seconds before he snapped outta it. “Could you at least do that in the bathroom where nobody could just walk in and see you?” He begged, pretending as though his eyes weren’t glued to the other man’s stolen cock as a small glob of precum dripped from the tip.

Kyle looked James up and down with a grin, still pumping away. “Well if you got over here and sucked me off, maybe I could cum a little quicker.”

James was a little taken off guard by the offer. Yet he couldn't help but eye up Ryan’s cock that Kyle was enjoying making his own. It looked so thick… and juicy… and delicious. Just the thought of wrapping his lips around it seemed heavenly.

He watched as Kyle squeezed along the shaft up to the tip, forcing out another drip of precum. James wanted to taste it so badly but he knew he shouldn't. He was with Cain for fuck sake! After being so jealous over his boyfriend’s wandering eye towards that step dad of his, he’d be a complete hypocrite to give into his own desires here right?!

His mouth was slightly agape, eyes darting between Kyle's smirking face and hard cock as Kyle stepped over to James. “Don’t worry. This can just be between you and me.” He sniggered before pressing down on James’ shoulder. James’ gave in and let the man push him down onto his knees, putting him on eye level with that thick 8 inch cock. Kyle gently slapped James across the face with his rod a couple times before until the latter simply couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He grasped the base of Kyle's shaft firmly against his suit pants before going down on the pulsing cock aggressively, earning a very satisfied grunt from Kyle.

“Fuuuck! You’ve wanted to do this for a while as well haven't you?” Kyle laughed, loving how sensitive his new cock was. James’ didn’t respond as he focused on sucking, his eyes wide as he took as much down his throat as possible. How could he not want it? Before this Kyle would never shut up about how hit Ryan was. Always sending pictures of the handsome man. Now Kyle had his body and cock… it was too much for James to resist.

He continued to work the cock well, giving Kyle one of the best blowjobs he’d ever received. James was sucking so passionately and intensely that within just 5 minutes Kyle was already getting ready to bust.

Kyle held James’ head down on his cock. “Oohh I’m gonna fuckin cum!” He almost yelled before remembering they didn’t wanna draw too much attention. He thrust his hips forwards as his whole body tensed for a moment. There was then a long and stifled groan before Kyle emptied Ryan’s heavy balls down James’ throat. James sucked and swallowed every last drop of cum eagerly until those balls had nothing left.

At last James’ pulled away before falling back slightly, allowing Kyle to finally see the bulging outline of James’ dick pressing and bucking against his jeans. Smiling Kyle got down on his knees as well and began rubbing his hand across James’ bulge. He bent down, kissing the dick outline between rubbing and squeezing it until before long James let out a very sudden grunt. Kyle felt the cock spasm under his hand. Moments after a sticky, wet stain appeared on the crotch on James’ jeans. Quite an impressive load to get all the way through those.

The two laid on the office floor for a moment, unsure of what they should do now. It was just then hitting James what he’d done. What was he thinking!? He’d cheated on Cain!! The dread of it was quickly starting to set in.

As James’ mind pondered on the thought, Kyle got up and shoved his cock back in his pants before zipping up. “Hey man… I’ve got a pair of shorts in my bag if you wanna borrow them. I’m not sure how well they’re gonna fit me now with this body but they might fit you a little better.”

James barely paid notice to Kyle’s offer. “I just cheated on my boyfriend.” Those words felt as though they could’ve weighed 20 tons. Justhearing James say them made Kyle begin to feel pretty guilty about what they’d just done. After all… He only pushed James into it because he was horny.

Feeling terrible, Kyle went back to his desk and pulled something out of his draw before offering it over to James. “Here, have this. The woman gave me two pills. I don’t think I’m ever gonna leave Ryan’s body so I think you should take it. Maybe you or Cain could use it to… uhhh… spice things up?” He said awkwardly as he held out the pill.

James looked at Kyle, then at the pill. As horrible as he felt right now, he also remembered Cain’s wandering eye with his Step-Dad… though he had no right to get annoyed about that now. Maybe this pill could actually help them with their relationship. Get it back on track somehow.

“Fine… but do NOT mention to Cain what just happened.” James snatched the pill out of Kyle's hand, clearly guilt ridden. They proceeded to clean themselves up a bit, James changing his jeans for a pair of Kyle's shorts as the former suggested. They awkwardly said goodbye to one another as James stuffed the pill in his jacket pocket.

James exited the office building, trying not to think too hard about what he just did. Instead he tried to focus on the pill in his pocket and how he was gonna use it. Or who he was gonna use it on…

———

(Part 2)

It’d been a couple days since what happened with Kyle at the office. Of course Kyle still had Ryan’s body and Ryan had been making a few scenes both in and out of the office. Still clearly upset about Kyle stealing his body. On the other hand, from what James could tell from their messages and interactions, Kyle couldn’t have been happier. Apparently he’d been constantly jerking off to his reflection and had already hooked up with a few guys. Living the dream it sounded.

James couldn’t help but feel a little bad for Ryan but there wasn’t much that could be done now. There was no way Kyle was gonna let them swap back. However there was something else that had been weighing on James’ mind a lot.

Since Kyle had given him that pill when he… cheated… it’s all been he’s been able to think about. He always had the pill with him either in his pocket or bag. He saw a couple guys out and about whom he thought he’d like to use it on but he just never tried it… and there was a reason for that.

That damn wandering eye Cain had for his Step Dad Dave.

Lately James was beginning to feel as though Cain looked at Dave more than he looked at him, his own boyfriend! The fact that Cain wouldn’t even admit that kinda made it worse. But then there was the pill. Looking at his current situation, James felt as though there was only one way to assure his boyfriend’s true love and affection.

It was a warm Monday evening. James and Cain had gone round to Cain’s mom’s house for dinner like she insisted at least once a week. Halfway through the meal however she got called into the hospital where she worked on an emergency. She apologised before leaving James and Cain to finish dinner with just Dave.

The couple were able to make decent conversation with Dave as they ate. Chatting about this and that as usual. However as always James could tell that Cain was enjoying this alone time with Dave a little too much. He watched while Cain’s eyes scanned over Dave’s pecs as they pressed against his tank top. At this point James probably would’ve pulled Cain aside to have a word with him if it wasn’t for what he did last week with Kyle. And so James did his best to suppress his jealousy until before long they’d all finished and taken their plates to the sink to be washed.

“Right lads, I’m gonna head through there and watch some football.” Dave announced as he leaned into the fridge to grab a beer. James rolled his eyes knowing that Cain’s were almost definitely plastered to Dave’s ass as he bent over. Although in fairness he’d be lying if he said he didn’t take a glance at it himself. Those red short shorts were certainly… fitting shall we say. “Feel free to come join me.” He added before sauntering off into the living room.

Cain was about to grab a beer for himself and follow when James grabbed his hand and finally pulled him aside. He whispered to Cain “Alright I know this is gonna sound crazy but I’ve got something I need to tell you…” Knowing he had Cain’s full attention, James went on to explain the whole situation with the pill. He explained how Kyle got them from a self proclaimed Witch before testing them on himself and a coworker. And that it actually worked!? Then going on to explain how the two were currently living each-overs lives and that it was a dream come true for Kyle! Though of course he left out the part about what did with Kyle.

Naturally Cain was extremely skeptical about it all. I mean body swapping and magic pills? It was crazy talk. But the look in James’ eyes… it looked so certain. So sincere. And so with some convincing, Cain decided to entertain his boyfriend and ask where he was going with this. Just then James pulls the pill out of his pocket before revealing his plan.

“I’ve spent the last few days pondering this. Wondering if it’d be something I’d want.. and I’m fairly certain it’s something you would want. I know you always try to tell me that you only have eyes for me but I’ve seen over and over again how you look at Dave.” He whispered.

It then started to click with Cain. He knew exactly what James was about to imply. “Wait… you’re not thinking of doing what I think you are… right?”

“As I said I’ve given it a lot of thought and have decided that… I think I’d be okay with it but only as long as you are. Besides, being 45 can’t be that bad right?” James smiled somewhat nervously.

And with that Cain’s suspicion was confirmed. James wanted to use this pill to swap with Dave!! The two went back and forth for about 20 minutes or so discussing this further deeper. Weighing out all the pros and cons before finally coming to a decision. Even though Cain was still very skeptical, James seemed very adamant on the fact that this pill was the real deal so he decided to trust him on it.

“Fine… fuck it. Let’s do it.” Cain stated. Even if this wasn’t real the idea of it all was still kinda arousing him. “So how are you gonna do it?”

James didn’t say anything at first, he simply walked over to the fridge before opening it and pulling out another beer. “Chances are he’s finished the one he took through there earlier so all we’ve gotta do is slip one half of the pill in here and let him drink it. Kyle put it in Ryan’s coffee and it still worked perfectly fine so why would this be any different?”

And so that’s what they did. Cain cracked open the beer as James snapped the pill in half. He dropped the pill into the alcoholic beverage and watched as it fizzed inside the bottle for a moment. A faint glow emitted from the pill as it quickly dissolved and became one with the drink. Once it was completely gone, the beer itself glowed momentarily before seemingly returning to normal. The couple looked at each other, Cain now slightly more inclined to believe this as James simply nodded before grabbing another beer outta the fridge for himself.

Dave was sat eagerly watching the game on TV. Just as the couple entered the room, whatever team Dave had been rooting for managed to score a point. “THAT’S IT BOYS! BRING IT FUCKIN HOME!” He exclaimed passionately before downing the last of his beer and letting out a loud belch. Hearing that not only made Cain’s cock twitch but also James’ cock too…

That man. That attractive mature man… All that was about to be his.

“They doing good Dave?” Cain asked, causing the older man to whip his head around and chuckle.

“Yuuup, doing well tonight. So far anyway.” Dave chuckled before turning his attention back to the TV.

With that James made his way over to the couch before offering the spiked beer to Dave. “Here. Figured you might want another.” James smiled innocently.

Dave outstretched an arm and took the bottle graciously. “Well you figured right. Cheers James.”

As Dave sat central on the couch, James opted to sit to Dave’s left while Cain sat on his right. Moments after James pulled out his half of the pill before throwing it in his mouth and washing it down with his own beer. Now all they had to do was wait for Dave to drink up. And naturally that didn’t take long.

It might’ve been due to the pill being diluted in the beer but it took awhile for anything to happen. With every swig of beer that Dave took, James’ heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t until about half the bottle was gone that something actually started to occur.

Both Dave and James began to get the same funny feeling running through their skulls. It was like a constant pushing and pulling sensation until suddenly, they both began convulsing on the couch. Cain was of course worried but also weirdly excited because this was exactly how James described it happening with Kyle.

A moment or two passed and suddenly the two men stopped convulsing, slumping into their seats. Cain stood in front of them, not quite sure who to check on first. Thankfully that decision was made for him as Dave began to stir first. He groaned for a moment before his eyes suddenly shot open with a mix of shock and excitement.

Dave immediately looked down at himself and began rubbing his hands down his torso, massaging his thick beneath the tank top before giving his biceps a squeeze. “Fuuuuck yesss…” He groaned under his breath before slowly getting up from the couch, a look of wonder crossing his face.

Cain looks on in awe as he watches what seemed to be Dave trying to balance his body weight correctly. “James?… i-is that… you?” He asked nervously.

The older man gave him a large toothy grin. “The one and the only.” He stated confidently before bringing up his new arms for a double bicep flex, feeling those veins pop as he did. He might be older now but damn was he buff in all the right ways. “This feels… fuckin incredible!” He claimed, his voice sounding identical to how Dave spoke. Jame continued to flex, beginning to feel his new dad cock start to swell in Dave’s short shorts.

“I… I can’t believe this is actually real…” Cain muttered, still in shock as he watched what looked to be his hot step dad checking himself out and flexing his thick muscles as the bulge in his shorts continued to grow. “Can I feel your chest?” He asked hesitantly.

James smirked. He took a couple steps closer to Cain, arms at his side before bouncing his pecs a couple times. Cain reached up without hesitation, quickly grasping the two large muscle melons on his step dad’s chest. James absolutely loved the feeling. Not only of having such incredible pecs but also his boyfriend worshiping them. Cain kneaded them greedily before eventually sticking his face between them through the tank top.

“Fuuck I love the way you smell.” Cain blurted out when he was eventually able to pull away from James’ chest. As he did however he glanced over James’ shoulder to see that the real Dave looked to be waking at last.

Dave grabbed his head, immediately startled at the feeling of a lot more hair up there than there should’ve been. Not nearly as startled however as he was when he looked up to see none other than… himself!? Of course the real Dave began freaking the fuck out. He jumped up from the couch screaming and shouting about what happened to him and who the fuck this doppelgänger of him was. James and Cain tried their best to calm him down but Dave wasn’t having any of it. Especially as he began to figure out what had just happened. And so James ended up grabbing his former body and putting him into a headlock. Dave struggled but he was powerless against his own strength and muscle. After that it didn’t take long for him to fall back unconscious.

“Well…we can deal with that later I suppose.” Cain said as he watched James lay his former body down on the couch gently. “Let’s just hope Dave stays asleep long enough for us to enjoy this.”

“Dave? His name is James now. I’m the one you should be calling Dave from now on.” The new Dave claimed with a deep chuckle as he strutted back towards Cain. He lifted his arms back up, flexing those impressive biceps again. “Now start worshipping me. I know you want to.”

Cain did just that as he grabbed at Dave’s arms, feeling the bulge of muscle before taking turns kissing each arm. Shortly after relishing in that worship the new Dave lifted both arms up and placed his hands behind his head, exposing his pits. “Go on. I know you’re just dying to smell them.”

Cain pretty much leapt at the chance. Diving his face deep into those sweaty pits. Cain had dreamt of doing it ever since he first set eyes on Dave and now that built up desire was all flowing out all at once. He continued to inhale Dave’s pits aggressively as Dave himself laughed and groaned, loving every second of it.

Before long Cain seemed like he’d gone almost feral, uncontrollably shoving himself into Dave’s pits, frequently switching between them. As much as Dave was enjoying it however, he finally decided to grab Cain by his hair and pull him back, seeing his smaller boyfriends face covered in sweat as he panted.

Dave ordered Cain to undress himself and that’s exactly what he did. Cain stripped himself of his clothes, leaving him stood naked with a boner. Smiling again as he looked over Cain’s arousal, Dave grabbed a hold of the throbbing cock, giving it a few strokes and earning a couple moans from Cain. Dave then grabbed Cain’s hand before gently guiding it towards his crotch, placing Cain’s hand directly on his dick print. The smaller man rubbed over his ‘Step-Dad’s’ bulge, getting even more excited as he quickly came to realise just how much of a monster it really was.

Next thing they knew Dave was kicking off his shorts, leaving him in his underwear. Cain was more or less drooling by this point as he saw a bulging tent spring forwards in Dave’s underwear. Getting on his knees, Cain began kissing and worshiping the bulge while indulging further in Dave’s scent. It wasn’t long before he gripped the waistband and pulled down the underwear, being so horny he didn’t even ask permission before swallowing over half of the nine-incher before him.

“OOOoohh wow… that feels… in-fucking-credible!” Dave shouted as Cain got to work.

The original Dave slept soundly on the couch, unconscious and unaware that his former body was now gripping the back of his step-sons head and forcing him to choke on his cock. The new Dave made sure to push Cain as far down on his shaft as possible, being surprised not only by the sheer size of his new dad dick but also by how sensitive it was at his age. So much so that he had to pull Cain away from his rod when he felt precum start to leak out.

Moments after Dave sprawled himself out on the couch face down, having just enough room with his old body on the end. He sensually told Cain to get over here and worship his thick dad ass and that's exactly what Cain did. In a heartbeat the younger man had his face between Dave’s muscular cheeks, hungrily tasting his step dad’s hole. After a bit more worship via groping and smacking the beautiful ass before him, Cain lubed up his cock before pressing against Dave’s entrance.

Dave roared in both pain and pleasure as his virgin hole was penetrated. Cain opted to start slow so as not to hurt Dave too badly but as time went on he slowly but surely began to pick up the pace. Considering the old Dave never trained his ass to take dick, it was surprising how quick Dave’s ass adjusted to having cock stuffed inside it. Cain continued to pump in and out, still not being able to believe he was watching his hot step dad’s ass jiggling to the rhythm of his dick. It seemed like some kind of insane fever dream!

This must’ve gone on for nearly an hour as the two continuously swapped positions. Cain fucking the new Dave from soooo many different angles as he got to see his step dad in positions he could’ve only ever dreamed of seeing until today. Eventually they returned to doggy style however this time they were on the floor. Cain began to groan out saying he was about to cum. He pulled outta Dave’s ass and brought his pulsing rod straight up to the older man’s face before shoving in his mouth. Dave barely got a chance to suck on it before Cain burst his load into his mouth. A load that the daddy was very eager to swallow. Cain's cum tasted just as good as it did in his former body.

“Well now you’ve had your fun. Time to let me have mine.” Dave stated a stern almost fatherly tone as he picked himself up, licking a bit of cum off his lips. He grabbed Cain before leading him upstairs to the bedroom where he threw the man on the bed face down just as he’d been before.

From there Dave spent god knows how long fucking the life out of Cain with his huge dad cock. Cain's ass somehow taking every inch of it. Dave was able to get balls deep in that ass time and time again before, at last, he began to feel all his stored cum building up. With a few more mighty slaps of his balls against Cain's ass, Dave’s cock erupted inside him. What followed was a tidal wave of hot cum spilling inside Cain and filling him up to the brim.

“FUUCK YEAH!!! IM FUCKING DAVE NOW!” He roared through the orgasm.

———

- Months Later -

Cain and Dave had been through a lot in the past few months. First was dealing with the old Dave freaking out but eventually convincing him to go out and enjoy his new younger body.

Second was hiding this all from Cain’s mom which they did successfully for a couple weeks. The new Dave was able to pretend to be a loving husband to her while fucking his new step son whenever they got the chance. That is until one night the two of them fell asleep after sex only for Cain’s mom to walk into the bedroom later that night to see her ‘husband’ asleep with his dick inside her son's ass!

Then that leads onto issue number three. Cain and Dave now had to find somewhere else to live after they both got kicked out. It wasn’t easy at first but between them they were able to find an affordable place. After all that however, things finally seemed to have smoothed over for the most part.

Something that Dave had noticed though was his slight shift in personality. He found himself doing and saying some things the old Dave would’ve done. He even found himself drinking beers a lot and always letting out mighty belches afterwards like the original Dave would. One of the most notable changes though was his sudden affinity for sports. Before the swap he was barely interested in sport at all. After becoming Dave though, every other thought he had felt like it was about soccer and football. Half the time he’d try to get Cain to sit with him as we watched whatever game was on TV at the time. And that’s exactly what was happening right now.

They sat on the couch watching soccer as Cain began to get horny, like usual, and pulled down Dave’s pants. Still though Dave tried to keep paying half attention to the game as Cain was kissing and sniffing his cock and balls through his briefs. As his cock was worshiped, Dave couldn’t help but reflect a little. He’d traded his body for one 15 years older but there was no denying how fucking hot he was now. Not to mention that his boyfriend now only had eyes for him and only him. And the sex was leagues better than it ever was before!

On the other hand Dave did still feel bad about the whole cheating thing with Kyle and one day he knew he’d have to tell Cain about it. But that day wasn’t today. For now he could just enjoy his boy worshiping his body day in and day out.

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heyaheiya · 2 months ago

Note

Will you write something about single dad bakugo falling in love with his child’s daycare teacher and her or them feeling the same 🥺🥺 -🦕

Sorry this took so long 😭😭

— — — — — —

Katsuki didn’t plan on ever getting into a relationship again; just him and his darling daughter was enough for him. That was until your stupid face somehow wormed its way into his mind.

His girl, Bakugou Chiyo, had been going to daycare for a few months now, but he’d never met you officially.

As much as Mitsuki loved having the little one over most weekdays, she didn’t have all the time in the world to spend babysitting. Eijirou encouraged Katsuki to enroll Chiyo and had recommended the daycare he used for his kids. Despite Katsuki’s hesitation towards it, Eijirou wouldn’t stop pestering the man to give it a chance. Something about ‘socialisation’ or whatever. Still, Katsuki put up a good fight.

“Fuck no, you know how disgusting other people’s kids are?? I don’t want Chiyo catching rabies from those things.”

“It’s expensive, I’m not exactly rich right now you know!”

“How do I know those teachers are qualified?”

“I’m sure Chiyo’s gonna hate it so what’s the bother.”

Unfortunately, Chiyo loved it, waking up early and being pretty self sufficient for a 4 and a half year old. She even packed her bag herself before bed so it was ready the next morning. Yes it was filled with just stuffed animals, and what.

“Baby, do you seriously need all of your friends? Why not pick one?”

“But they’ll be lonely :(“

Katsuki had to write out a whole schedule of which plush goes to daycare on which day. This rotation made sure the toys all got an equal amount of days.

Chiyo had been getting chattier in the recent days. Perhaps shitty hair was right about the socialisation bit… However, at dinner that night, a new name kept coming up.

“-and I was really sad. But then, Smiley came over and made it better!”

“Who’s ’Smiley’, princess?”

“Silly daddy, you see her every day at pickup!”

That was helpful. One out of the army of children he has no time to notice.

“Tell me about Smiley. She nice to you?”

“Mhm! Today she secretly gave me a chocolate from the teacher desk :D”

Alarms went off in Katsuki’s head. Chiyo’s friends with a thief. Chiyo’s gonna turn into a criminal. Chiyo’s gonna get arrested in the future. Chiyo needs to stop being friends with this ‘Smiley’ kid!!

“What??”

“Yeah. She told me not to tell anyone or she’ll get in trouble… But you won’t tell, right daddy l?”

The next day and drop off, Katsuki stomped in, all geared up in his hero suit, with a massive scowl decorating his face. Usually Mitsuki and Masaru drop the sweetheart off in the mornings, and by the end of a long work day, Katsuki doesn’t have time to chat. So other parents and teachers had basically never had a proper conversation with the man. That sure was gonna change.

“Who is this ‘Smiley’ kid??”

The receptionist looked befuddled.

“Oh no.. what did she do?”

“Nunya goddamn business. Point me to ‘er”

A shaken older hand pointed towards a young and surprisingly pretty face across the room. Must be the kids mother.

Katsuki stomped his way over to the woman. Either she shrunk back in fear of the pro hero, or his anger made him grow a few inches.

“Oi! Who do you think you are? Letting your kids behave like that? I swear, don’t give me some shi- stupid excuse!”

“I’m so sorry! Has someone been picking on Chi-Chi?”

“Chi-Chi? Seriously nicknaming a kid that doesn’t belong to you? That’s so fuc- freaking creepy.”

Chiyo yanked at her father’s pant leg a bit.

“Don’t yell at Smiley like that >:(“

Huh. Smiley.. is the teacher. Oh. A normal person would instantly apologise, but Katsuki? Pro hero Dynamight?

“What kind of relationship do you have with my daughter??”

He made you look like a child predator in front of your entire classroom, their parents, and your boss +coworkers..To say he felt bad was an understatement, the look of your terrified and embarrassed face scarring his mind for days.

Then, Chiyo came home balling her eyes out.

“Miss Smiley wasn’t there! She left me!”

Fuck. He knew what he had to do.

+81 XXX XXX XXX: Meet me at the restaurant down the street in 10.

Y/N: What the freak

When he saw you walk in, his jaw dropped. Unfortunately, you were beautiful, like the girls on the covers of magazines. However, your cute and almost squishable face quickly turned to a glare, eyes shooting lasers through his face.

It’s silent for a long time.

“This is the part where you apologise for getting me fired.”

“Right, I’m really sorry.”

…

“Look, I love Chiyo so so much. She’s a good kid and I’m sure you can tell she’s grown an attachment to me. If it’s because you or her mother feels jealous-“

“I’m single, the mother is out of the picture.”

“Oh so you just felt like being a dick?”

“Mind your language, Sensei. Wouldn’t want any kids to develop a fowl tongue.”

“I’m the reason Chiyo doesn’t have some of your key vocabulary. Watch it, Dynamight.”

“Oh I’m so scared😒”

You instantly stood up and grabbed your purse. “If you’re just here to rub salt in the wound, I think we’re done.” Fuck. Katsuki yanked you back down into your seat, eyes begging.

“No, fuck- I can’t stop fucking this up. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Wanna add another f-bomb to that statement?”

“Fuck off.”

“There we go.”

Katsuki groaned to himself, wanting to kill himself right there and then.

“I came here to apologise and fix things, but I’m stupid and can’t fucking communicate!”

“There are other swear words y’know?”

“Take me seriously.”

Your face softened slightly. You seriously thought he might cry in the middle of some random ramen restaurant.

“How do I fix this??”

“Well..”

You didn’t ask for too much really. Shopping spree (clothes, jewellery, cosmetics, skincare, shoes, hair pins, the works), official apology to everyone who was in the room at the time, get job back, and a bunch of tiramisu.

After all that, you were nothing but smiles. Then it clicked. Always smiling. Miss Smiley. Damn, that was a lazy nickname.

“Chiyo was the one who came up with ‘Miss Smiley’.”

It’s the best goddamn nickname anyone has ever made.

“Is there anything else you wanna add to that long ass list of yers???”

“Perchance..”

“Well??”

“A second date?”

— — — — — — — — — — —

This is not my best, I’m sorry 😭😭 hope you enjoyed! And requests are still open. Please, I need inspiration 🙏🙏

#my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha #my hero academy fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #teacher!reader #singlefather!bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou x you #bnha #fanfic #request #requests are open

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trippinsorrows · 3 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + eleven

authors note: i'm telling ya'll right now. this one will probably leave you with a certain number of questions. that's expected. all will, eventually, be revealed and make sense. don't be freaking out on me, por favor. 😭

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, language, suggestive themes, and scene of victim blaming/justifying dv (from character's pov, not the authors)

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 13k (i need help)

The moment the cotton round soaked in hydrogen peroxide makes contact with the largest cut on Roman’s face, a slash across his eyebrow bone, is the first time he visibly displays any sort of reaction. The first indication that he is in fact in pain.

And he’s immediately regretful.

Nakoa, his father, a tall man of muscular build, a thick salt and pepper beard, and dark eyes that seem almost black in dim lighting, is before him with a previously unreadable expression that has now morphed into something different.

Something Roman hates to see on his father’s face.

Disappointment.

“Tell me what happened.”

Nakoa Reigns is a man who only needs to speak once, his deep, baritone voice emanating a level of power and authority that requires no repeating of anything. The first is the only.

Despite the sting of his cut and the bruising of his body, Roman sits up straight, all 78lbs of him and lifts his chin. “I—”

“He was trying to help us, fath—”

Nakoa lifts his hand, effectively silencing the voice of one of his older boys, Pika, Roman’s half brother.

“I asked your brother.”

Pika recognizes his fault and shares a brief look with his other brother, Tane, before both drop their heads, rendered to silent shame.

Nakoa brings his gaze back to Roman as Viviana continues to work on heeding to her son’s wounds.

Roman swallows and answers as evenly as possible. “They were talking about you.”

“So you attacked them?”

Roman quickly debates leaving out unnecessary details then easily remembers nothing gets past his father, and honesty, while uncomfortable, is the best route. “Pika and Tane did first, and then I joined them—”

“You were defending my honor.”

Nakoa’s tone, something of almost pride, takes a young Roman by surprise. Yet, he shows nothing, recognizing that can and typically does change with his father. “Yes.”

It’s a wise decision, because Nakoa’s tone instantly shifts to something chilly. “And yet you lost.” Roman winces again, and it has nothing to do with the dabbing of the hydrogen peroxide against another cut. “Tell me, son, where is the honor in that?”

Knowing that there is no excuse, Roman’s shoulders slump a bit. “There is none, father.”

“If you are to defend this family, you will do it to completion. There is no room for failure. Ever.” It’s a tale as old as time, a lesson Nakoa has drilled into all eight of his children, but especially Roman, the youngest and smallest of the bunch compared to his other sons. “Pika. Tane.”

The older boys stand at attention as their father, The Tribal Chief, turns his disappointed gaze towards them. “You have also failed me. Your brother is small, but you are not. There is no excuse.” His gaze sharpens. “If they disrespect you, then they disrespect me, and if they disrespect me, then they disrespect our entire family. Does this sound acceptable to you?”

Pika, the older of Tane and Roman, is the one to answer. “No, father.”

“Exactly.” Nakoa’s large, intimidating frame is stepping away from them as he instructs. “Come. We will fix this. Today.”

As usual, Tane and Pika fall in line, walking in silence behind their father until only Roman and his mother, Viviana, remain in their large kitchen.

That is when she finally speaks. Her fingers move under his chin, forcing him to look up, her icy blue eyes meeting with his light brown ones, a trait inherited from his father.

“Did you hit your head?” He shakes his head no, and she drops her fingers. “Good.” She studies him, lifting his shirt to see the purple bruises forming. A heavy sigh escapes her mouth as she moves across the kitchen, opening up the cabinet and grabbing the Children’s Tylenol. She pours the appropriate dosage into the medicinal cup and offers it to him. “Here. Take this. It will help with the pain.”

He’s immediately shaking his head, shoulder length hair brushing against his face. “I must pay for my failure.”

“You will learn nothing by suffering unnecessarily.” She again motions for him to take the medicine. Roman hesitates but obeys, downing the red liquid in a matter of seconds. She takes back the cup, rinses it, and puts it away before returning to finish tending to his wounds.

“Never pick or involve yourself in a fight you can’t win, Roman.” Viviana switches to Italian, an intentional tactic to ensure privacy as well as continue to push her eight-year-old son to better his fluency. He's advanced for his age but still not where she would like him to be. Where she needs him to be.

“Should I have done nothing, mother?” Viviana hears it. The edge in his voice, the hint of challenge to her authority.

Again, she grabs his chin, forcing him to look at her. “You should have been smart.”

“Pika and Tane—”

“I do not care about them.” Her dismissal is immediate and bitter. “They are not my sons. You are.” Roman is smart for his age. He’s always picked up on his mother’s dislike of his half–siblings, the five sons born to his father by his late ex-wife. No. His mother has only ever cared and focused on him and his two older sisters, Nesi and Sili. “And you are smarter than them.”

Viviana suddenly gives another sigh and places the cotton round on the counter. She crouches down in front of Roman, taking his hands in hers. “Do you know why your father and I are so hard on you?” She didn’t expect him to reply, verbally or nonverbally, and is therefore unsurprised when he does nothing. “It’s because you are not like your brothers and sisters. You are different. You come from two worlds. You are Bloodline, yes, but you are Cosa Nostra as well. That means you belong to the two biggest crime families in the world. It is your birthright to lead both of them.” Had he been looking up, he might have seen the almost sympathetic shift in her expression. “But the road ahead of you is not easy. They will challenge you. They will hate you. They will reject you, because you hail from two worlds instead of one over the other.” Any sign of sympathy quickly morphs into something determined and hardened. “That is why you must be better. You must be better than all of them. Faster. Smarter. Stronger. There is no room for you to be weak, Roman.” He lifts his head, mindful of maintaining and showing no sign of emotion, no indication of feeling. “You will show them, brutally, ruthlessly, and with no mercy who you are, and then, only then, you will rule them all.”

Roman straightens again, his posture representative of the alignment provided by his mother. By the reminder of his mother why he must always be the best and failure is never an option. He can succeed or he can succeed. There is no second option.

“Never forget, Roman.” She points to his chest, to his heart. “This is what makes you weak. It will distract you, it will deter you, and it will cost you everything.” Viviana speaks with almost sorrow to her, an almost unhealed scar from a time long ago. “But this….” She lifts her hand to his head, pointing to his brain. “This is power. This will bring and keep you on top. It is your greatest strength.”

Viviana presses a kiss to her son’s forehead and stands back up, motioning to the first aid kit. “Finish tending to your wounds, and go do your training.”

Roman is quick to hide his surprise, to hide the disappointment at still having to complete his daily combat training. He tries to be grateful though, thankful that his father, or mother, did not tack on additional training for his failure.

But it’s when Viviana leaves and he moves to grab the gauze, a new voice interrupts.

“Boy, I thought she’d never leave.”

Instantly, Roman’s spirits are lifted in a way only his tina matua can provide.

Her warm eyes are on him, a frown falling on her face as she sees the cuts. It’s unsurprising and one of many fights he’s already been in at such a young age. But, it’s because he’s a protector. She can already see that is one of his defining traits: his strong urge and sense of duty to protect the ones he loves.

To protect his family.

She grabs the supplies and starts finishing the cleaning and bandaging of his wounds. “Those boys got you some good, huh?” She shakes her head, cursing in Samoan. “Don’t you worry. In a couple of years, you’ll be bigger and stronger than them, and then you can get your receipt.”

Fetu Reigns is unsurprised when her nephew says nothing. She knows his small size is a deep insecurity he struggles with, especially when all of his brothers have exceeded expected height and weight. She knows he sees it as a hindrance.

“Did you know that your father was the smallest of our other siblings?” That is when Roman looks up and actually allows himself to show an emotion: surprise. His tina matua has always been the only person he can do as such with.

His parents would never approve, and his brothers would never let him live it down.

“It’s true,” Fetu discloses, adding. “And it bothered him too. Then one summer, he went through a growth spurt and suddenly the scrawny little boy we all teased towered over everyone.”

Fetu can see the continued struggle he has between the words she’s saying and the reality he’s living. She puts down the supplies and gently cups his face.

“Roman, I know there is pressure on you, my sweet boy. In this house and out. And you do carry a burden your brothers and sisters do not, but you also have something else, something they don’t have because your parents haven’t extinguished it out of you yet.” She lays her hand over his chest. “You have heart, Roman, and it does not make you weak. That is what makes you strong. A good leader, a great leader, leads with both his head and his heart.”

She hopes her words can penetrate the deep armor of stoicism that her brother and sister-in-law seem to want to bestow upon the child who already carries such a heavy weight at a young age.

Her heart aches for him a bit.

She then informs him, hoping it will lift his spirits, even just a little, “Rikishi brought the twins over.”

And it pleases her to see the way his eyes light up. For a brief second, he’s just a little boy who wants to play with his cousins. But, it’s just as quickly gone, his shoulders straightening. “I have to do my training for today.”

She’s briefly disappointed but quickly reminds him of the ‘completion’ of that task. “but you did, remember? You got up early this morning to get it done. I was there watching you.” She gives him a wink, and Roman smiles. The first of the day.

“Thank you, tina matua.” He starts to run off when she calls his name, forcing him to look back at her.

“And where is my hug?”

Still smiling, he runs back over, hugging her tightly, soaking in all of the warmth she provides in his dark world.

She kisses the top of his head. “I love you, Roman.”

And his eyes shut, because at the end of the day, when all is said and done, he’s still just an eight-year-old little boy who needs the space and time to just be that innocent little boy for however long it can last.

“I love you too, tina matua.”

“Roman.”

Solana’s almost worried expression is the last and least wanted thing Roman expects to find as he’s ripped away from a memory so long ago that it almost feels unreal. There’s a moment of adjustment, a brief delay as he returns to reality.

“Sorry.” It’s a bit gruff, a bit on the harsh side, an unintended side effect of resurfaced, previously buried memories he’d prefer to keep six feet under instead of at the forefront of his mind.

Solana steps forward, her hand on his forearm. “Are—are you okay?” Her frown deepens. “You’ve been kinda off the past few days.”

He can’t and won’t deny it, an inconvenient result of still trying to navigate just what the hell he’s supposed to do with information that feels almost too painful to sit on and do nothing about. He can’t march over and rip Xavier apart with his bare hands no matter how badly every fiber of his being wants him too. He can’t do that because he promised Solana he would let her make that call.

And now, more than ever, that’s the least he can give to her.

But the knowledge, the truth about the two events in her life he has no doubt sent her on that dark spiral, feels like something she should know.

It also, however, seems like something he feels could destroy her. And not even just the tremendous progress she’s made, but destroy her altogether.

“Just work shit.” There’s also that, but that’s nothing new nor noteworthy. It’s also insignificant compared to everything else.

He doesn’t know if it’s her naivety or his adept skills of persuasiveness, but she seems to buy it. “Okay.” He hates this. The lying to her part. Shit fucking sucks, but he also still has no goddamn idea what he wants or even needs to do, so it’s all he has. “I know—I know there’s probably nothing I can do to help—”

“You can.” It’s an obvious surprising statement to her judging by the shocked expression on her face. Roman moves towards her, hand reaching for the small of her back as he pulls her into him. He watches as Solana bites on her bottom lip but still lays her hands against his chest. It’s a great sign of progress, as he’s always noticed the way she seems almost uncomfortable around him when he’s shirtless. “I want you to think about something for me.”

She answers almost immediately. “Okay.”

He locks his gaze with hers. “Moving into my room.”

Solana is clearly taken back by his offer, the way her eyes widen almost instantly only to settle into something that’s an almost mixture of a smile and a frown. “Really?”

He nods, fingers dancing across her back. “If you want us to eventually have a sex life, then sleeping in the same bed seems like a good place to start.”

Solana is quiet, listening to his words but also still in a bit of shock. She knows he’s indicated a desire to be with her, to want her in that way at least, but she never really imagined he’d be okay with her being in his space like that.

They’ve shared a bed on roughly two occasions now, but those were both by unplanned circumstance. Something that he was okay with because of how they came about. But now, it seems he’s okay and maybe even wants it to be a regular thing.

And when she thinks about, thinks about his offer, there’s no anxiety, no fear. There’s just…okayness.

A state of peace, almost.

“Dulce has to come with me.” She chews on her bottom lip, nervous about this being a possible dealbreaker. “She’s used to sleeping with me now.”

He instead just shrugs. “She seems to keep finding her way in there anyway.” Dulce has also taken on the same squatter mentality of his twin cousins with her having walked her little ass into his room at various points in the middle of the night the past few days. It’s honestly a miracle he hasn’t stepped on her. “So, you’ll think about it?”

“No. I—” She gives a small shrug of her own, answering almost confidently. “I’ll do it. I’ll—I’ll move in.”

His eyes light with something that’s almost similar to excitement. “Good.” Her eyes shut when he dips his head, preparing for him to kiss her only for him to ghost his lips across hers, murmuring, “like you close to me.” He gestures down and adds with his gaze lingering on her chest a bit longer than what’s probably necessary. “I really like this outfit too.”

Roman’s noticed a shit ton of benefits from Solana being friends with Naomi and Bayley, which is a major reason why he didn’t rip them a new one for allowing her to get so shit faced drunk that night. Why he didn’t find a reason to justify keeping them apart. And one of the major benefits has become her change in wardrobe.

The baggy clothes have been swapped out for more form-fitting attire, outfits that accentuate her curves and showcase her beauty. He can also see the relationship between her wardrobe and self-esteem, specifically regarding her body. An increase.

And he likes it.

Happiness and confidence look good on her.

Roman kisses her, gentle at first, almost tentatively, just like most of their kisses. Like he’s always initially assessing her comfort level. And when she doesn’t push back, doesn’t tense, he deepens said kiss, tugging her close against him, their chests touching. Solana bites back a smile, giggling against his mouth, “Roman, you’re still sweaty from your workout.”

He’s unbothered, commenting suggestively with a wink, “you better get used to that, baby.”

Instead of discomfort, there’s only a strange, uncomfortable yet not feeling between her legs that’s unfamiliar but still….welcomed. It’s a hard thing to explain, and she’s thankful for the glance at the time on the microwave that provides her an out.

Still smiling, she informs him, “I’m gonna be late for work.” Solana is certain her cheeks are painted red judging by the heat that’s floating through her core.

He’s unbothered. “And?”

Rolling her eyes, she pries herself away, asking, “are you still going to meet me when I get off?”

He taps her hip, hand close to the side of her ass. There’s a brief slice of anxiety that’s quickly pushed back by her daily reminder. Safe. “Of course.”

Pleased, she leans up, kissing his cheek and backs away before he can pull her back for another kiss. She’ll definitely be late for work then. “Bye.”

He calls out bye after her, and by the time she’s outside, Solo is waiting expectedly by the SUV with that typical scowl. She expects the usual silence but is caught off guard when he observes as she climbs into the truck, “you’re late.”

Confused, she looks over at him, almost struggling with a reply as she reverts back to her overly apologetic state. “I’m sorry, I was—I was with Roman.”

He makes a sound and rolls his eyes. “Of course, you were.”

Her mouth dips into a frown. What’s that supposed to mean?

Before she can ask, or even consider asking a follow up question, he closes the door shut.

Literally and figuratively.

________

The work day seems to go by significantly faster when there’s something to look forward to. And for Solana, it’s being able to spend time with Roman. The more time they interact, the closer and more comfortable she feels.

There’s something so calming being around him. A strange dynamic, she recognizes, considering just who he is and the fact that his name alone strikes fear through most.

But that’s not who he is to her.

He’s….he’s a lot more than that, and though she still doesn’t quite know how to describe and label it accurately, she’s becoming less and less focused on the why and more focused on just allowing whatever this is between them to continue. To grow.

And that includes the intimacy portion, hence their current position, later that evening, laid out on his bed making out after being distracted in the midst of moving her items into his room.

Roman’s big hands are careful to remain in the safety zones of her body. The side of her stomach, the width of her shapely hips, the span of her back. It’s an intentional caution, she’s certain, one she’s appreciative of.

A boundary almost.

But, it’s a boundary she’s currently in the space and range to play around with.

Solana breaks their kiss, Roman instantly checking for her comfort level. “You okay?”

“Yes. I—” She’s not sure how exactly to word it but does the best she can, regardless. “You—you can touch me.” It sounds and even feels a bit weird leaving her mouth, maybe a tad bit uncomfortable too, but Solana knows that a lot about this whole thing will be uncomfortable at first. She just has to trust him.

Trust herself.

And when it dawns on her that a boundary within the exploration can be set, she stipulates, “just….just not there.” She doesn’t want to say it outright, a maybe silly sort of avoidance considering it’s what they’re eventually working up to, but for now, her comfort level is in the category of vague. “I can’t….not that. Not yet, at least.”

“Of course.” Roman looks at her with almost uncertainty. “You sure?”

She nods, fingers brushing through his hair that’s down instead of up like usual. She thinks she prefers it down. It makes him look…almost angelic. “Yes.”

His fingers dance across her back. “Can you lay down?”

Solana answers by allowing him to shift positions where he’s on top of her, hovering over her body. She closes her eyes when that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach forms. It takes a second to redirect herself, to recenter herself to where she is and who she’s with.

And Roman helps with that, his lips brushing over her jawline as he reassures her, “it’s just me, baby….”

She nods, moving her hands to his face, resuming their kissing as Roman carefully navigates this newfound ability to explore her. His hand moves up her stomach in a way that makes her sigh and moan into his mouth. His touch is something that does something so different to her. It’s a combination of nerves but also something else she can’t describe nor label.

But it’s when he moves his hand to her breast, kneading them almost gently, her back arches on an accord of its own. And she exhales deeply, fingers clawing the soft sheets underneath him. “You’re so sensitive to my touch….” He’s peppers kisses against her neck, mouth opening as he sucks on her soft skin, murmuring, “I fuckin’ love that shit.”

She’s never felt this before, and while there’s a constant battle in her head to push away those dark thoughts that would rip her from this moment, there’s a growing level of almost pleasure that’s so unfamiliar.

But she likes it.

Solana reaches to touch him, her fingers lightly gliding across his stomach.

He hisses against her and says something she can’t make out before smashing his lips back onto hers with an elevated sense of urgency that she finds herself matching. Her arms move around his neck as she tugs him closer to her, Roman’s big hands continuing to explore her body, respecting her request that he stay away from the sensitive space between her legs.

And it’s okay. It’s a level she’s okay with outside of some anxiety.

But then it’s over.

Roman pulls away from her, almost suddenly, like he’d been zapped with something. Frowning, Solana sits up, panting, lips swollen. “What—what’s wrong?”

She watches with continued confusion as he lays on his back, eyes closed, chest moving up and down. “We have to stop.”

She shakes her head, hand moving to his forearm. Solana notices his jaw clenches at that interaction, a strange response. “But—I’m okay.” And she is, though this is broaching new territory, having his big hands explore more of her body, she feels a layer of protection at the fact that she’s still fully clothed. Her outfit is more revealing than what she would typically wear, but it’s another step she’s hoping continues to move her in the right direction.

If the goal is eventual sexual intimacy, then that most likely includes being naked in front of Roman. Working her way up into wearing more revealing clothes around him feels like a way for her to ease her way into developing that level of comfort.

When he still says nothing and Solana finds herself almost wanting to continue, she urges, “really, Roman, I’m—I’m okay. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

“It’s not you,” he finally says, eyes still closed, voice almost strained.

Now Solana is just stumped because if it’s not her, what reason would he have for stopping? Was he…..was he not enjoying it? It certainly didn’t feel like it.

She shakes her head, growing a bit self-conscious. “I don’t—I don’t under….” The trailing off of her words coincide with the way she trails his body, ceasing when she finally realizes why he stopped. “Oh.”

Solana’s cheeks are practically burning. She can only imagine how reddened she must look, and it has nothing to do with the intense makeout session from only minutes ago and everything to do with Roman’s very visible bulge.

He just makes a sound that’s equivalent to a “you get it now?”

“I’m—” She has no idea what to say, no idea how to respond. How did that happen? They weren’t even doing it. She voices her confusion. “But—but we were only kissing.”

Roman chuckles almost darkly. “You still don’t get how attracted I am to you, do you?”

She bites down on her lip, eyes briefly darting to his erection, quickly snapping back to anything but that. “I think—I think I’m starting to.” He smiles, and she asks, “do you….do you want me to leave?”

She may have no healthy sexual experience, but she knows enough to know that there are ways men tend to take care of….that kind of thing when actual sex isn’t an option. And Solana has no desire to be present for that. That’s just too much at this point.

Maybe at any point for her.

“No.” His answer surprises her. “Stay. Just….talk.”

“Talk?”

“Distract me,” he encourages. She has no idea how the hell she’s supposed to do that, how the hell her talking will help that to go away or go down. For her own mental wellbeing, she doesn’t even acknowledge the size of his bulge.

Being intimate with him is one thing, but realizing Roman is just a big human all over is something she’ll save for when that time comes. Another problem for another day.

Suddenly feeling on the spot, she blurts out without much consideration. “I—I bought a bathing suit.” It feels so random, but she doesn't know what else to say, so she continues on this maybe not so great distraction. “I—I also want to try to get in the pool, but I didn’t have a suit, so I bought one. It’s a two piece, and I—I don’t usually like wearing those, but Bay and Naomi said it looked nice.” She thinks about the colorful two piece bikini that shows off more skin than she’s ever shown in public. She’s not sure she could ever wear something like that in public, but maybe around Roman. “The top is…it’s more revealing than I’d like, but I—”

“Solana.”

“Yes?”

He sounds like he’s in some level of pain as he informs, almost kindly despite the suffering, “baby, that’s not helping.”

Her frown returns at hearing his tone, and another glance in his direction reveals why. “Oh. I’m—I’m sorry.” She can most definitely see why now. “I—I should just go.”

He doesn’t protest this time around, just nods, and Solana doesn’t waste any time climbing off the bed and walking out the door, making sure to shut it all the way. She almost wishes that she could lock it too.

Solana finds herself trying to settle her own body as she makes her way down the steps and into the living room where Dulce is curled into a little ball sleeping away.

She closes her eyes and blows out a big breath, a small smile falling on her face. It’s the little things. Like being able to make out with her husband, his hands on her with only a small to medium level of anxiety being generated during the act that brings on the smile. Not even four months ago, they’d been in an eerily similar position with an entirely different outcome. She’d had a panic attack, and while he’d helped her through it, she was also left alone to navigate her big emotions on that even bigger day.

It feels almost like night and day how far they’d come. How far she’s come because this time around, Solana liked the feelings of his hands on her. There was still some uncertainty, but his gentleness with her, the way he kept reminding her that it was him and not them….it made a difference.

It makes a difference.

She finds herself reaching for her airpods, plugging them in her ears as well as the sketchbook on the coffee table.

Years.

It’s been years since she picked up a sketchbook and pencil, years since she escaped in the form of art. Writing has been her main outlet for years, but once upon a time, she had writing and art.

Passions she shared with her mom.

And in moving through her workbook, one of the exercises inquired about passions that died following the traumatic event, and in doing the hard work, Solana realized that the last time she drew was before she was raped.

It was a favorite hobby at one point, and she’d love to tap back into that. Even if just for the connection with her mom.

And it’s something she finds herself fully immersed in, so much so that she misses it when Roman rejoins her until she jumps a bit, pulling out one of her airpods. “Hey. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

He doesn’t say anything, just sits down on the sofa next to her, arm moving around her. Naturally, she moves into his side. “Are you umm—okay?” Thinking about her outfit, she offers, "I can change."

He chuckles. “I’m not a teenage boy, Solana. Seeing you is not going to make me hard.” He dances his fingers across her upper arm as he explains, “it’s just touching you like that….it’s hard to control myself.”

She swallows. His words don’t unnerve her, just make her realize yet again just how attracted he is to her. Still a bit of a hard pill to swallow given that she’s never seen a man as beautiful as Roman. And yet he wants her. It still blows her mind. “Can I—can I do something to help?”

His eyes take in her body. “Not a damn thing.” She smiles as he then focuses on the book on her lap. “Did you do that?”

She looks down, realizing just how far she got in her drawing. A lot farther than she realized, that’s for sure. She looks up, nodding. “Fuck, you’re good.”

It seems like Roman is full of compliments when it comes to her, and it feels good. The more they come, the more she’s starting to believe it. Believe that she’s beautiful and talented and the exact opposite of everything her father and brother ever tried to make her believe about herself.

“Thank you,” she then goes on to explain. “I—I haven’t done it in years, but—but I used to love it.”

He nods as well, facial expression indicating he’s storing this information for later use. “Do you do any other kind of artwork?”

She has to think about it for a second. “I used to paint too. My….mother taught me.” The ending portion quiet, her pencil dragging along the eyes of the unidentified woman.

Roman notices though, asking, “is that her?”

With one glance, without even needing to think about it, she answers, “yes.”

Her mom.

“You know the part I hate the most?” Her voice is still quiet, low and weighed with emotion. “I can’t—I can’t remember what her speaking voice sounded like. I’ve tried—tried to remember, but I can’t.” Her tone shifts to something else, something more of a bitter and remorseful nature. “But I still remember the sound of her screams every time he beat her.” Solana remembers more than that, feels more than that. But revisiting those painful memories to that extent is something she doesn’t feel mentally equipped for. “I used to be so scared. Praying because…because I thought he was gonna kill her.” Had she been looking at Roman, she’d have seen the flash of guilt in his eyes at her soft admission. “And sometimes I wanted him to, so at least she didn’t have to suffer anymore.”

Wetness pooling in her eyes alerts her to pending tears. She sniffles, quickly wiping away any sign of the impact of revisiting those dark days. “I’m—I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that.”

“Because it’s the truth. Because it’s how you feel.” Roman’s voice is soothing, soft, a stark contrast to everything anyone else has ever seen with him. It’s a different, almost caring side. And it’s everything she needs at this moment to feel safe.

She nods, struggling to keep the tears at bay. It’s a failed mission at this point. “I just—I miss her. So much.”

Roman tugs her closer to him, as she angles her body toward him, crying silently into his chest unintentionally creating yet another layer of complexity for the man struggling already as to whether or not the information he’s sitting on could help her finally close a chapter of suffering with the finality of truth.

Or bring her right back to the apex of trauma and suffering.

________

Solana shoots awake with a violent gasp and heavy panting. Immediately, she looks to her side, hoping to see Roman only to find an empty space and ruffled sheets.

Sniffling, she wipes at the tears and tries to regulate herself. Memories are one thing, but the memories that haunt her when sleep should overcome her have always been the hardest. They weigh heavier, leaving behind an emotional stain that’s hard to scrub out.

She wipes away the slight sheen of sweat on her forehead and kicks the blankets off her body. One glance at the ground, and she sees Dulce sleeping peacefully in her bed.

Solana hugs herself, ready to find Roman. For what reason, she’s not sure. It’s not like he can do anything to take the remnants of the nightmare away. She just knows that she wants to be around him.

A swish of a cool breeze brings her attention to the ajar double doors that lead to the balcony attached to his room.

She dabs at her eyes, doing her best to hide the tears before walking out to find him. Solana doesn’t necessarily want him to know the specifics, just needs to be near him.

He’s sitting back against the chair, eyes on the full moon and stars that blanket the night sky. But his gaze quickly shifts to her the second he’s alerted of her presence. He frowns almost. “Shit, did I wake you?”

She shakes her head, doing her best to muster up a smile that doesn’t give away the truth. “No. I just….can’t sleep.”

But, she should know better than that. Better than to think that this man can’t see through any lie thrown at him.

He motions her over. “Come here.”

She makes her way to him, unsurprised as he pulls her onto his lap, keeping her face forward so she can recline back against his strong chest. Solana’s hands rest on his forearms that are almost protectively around her.

Her eyes shut briefly when he brings his lips to her temple, asking, “what’s wrong?”

“Bad dream” she murmurs only to feel a sense of regret at her answer. He’s also obviously up in the middle of the night for a reason too. It’s not just about her.

But in a surprising flip of the roles, Solana feels Roman almost tense underneath her at her answer. “Solana, if us trying is triggering you—“

Her eyes widen almost as she works to assure him. “No. No. It’s not—not that. I haven’t—I haven’t had one of those in a while.” It’s been at least a few months since she’s had a nightmare about that. A far cry from when she would have them at least a few times a week. “It was about my mom.”

He seems to settle a bit, asking, “do you wanna talk about it?”

The answer is easy but also gently supplied. “Not really.” She then angles her head to look at him, asking almost cautiously. “Do you wanna talk about what’s bothering you?”

He chuckles, fingers tapping against the side of her stomach. She tries to focus on his words and not the action, knowing she’ll get too into her head. Her stomach has always been one of her biggest sources of insecurity. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

The rejection, albeit cloaked in vagueness, is a good distraction. She gives him a small smile. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.” For all that Roman’s been for her in the past few months, she would feel remiss if she didn’t at least attempt to be a safe space for him.

It’s the least she can do.

He looks at her, and she can tell he’s trying to navigate his words. “Solana, I’m not—I’m not used to talking about my problems. I keep that shit to myself, and I figure it out.”

She doesn’t deny that one bit, knows that he’s a man who carries the weight of the world but makes it seem like a tennis ball. “I get that.” She doesn’t want to push him. Again, it's more to make him aware that should he ever want to, she’s here. “I just…..I know how lonely it can be not having anyone to talk to.” There’s a hesitation but eventual follow through as she offers quietly, “I don’t think I said it at the time, because everything happened so quickly, but I'm so sorry about your mom.”

He’s tense under her, replying almost stoically. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t matter,” she points out gently. “You—you never get over that kind of loss. Not—not really.”

She would know.

He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and for a second, she berates herself. Chides herself for being too pushy, for bringing up memories that must be painful. Just because she’s venturing down trauma lane, doesn’t mean she has to drag him with her.

Solana swallows. “I’m so—”

“I have to go out of town tomorrow.”

It’s deflection but almost maybe a genuine notice that’s much shorter than she likes. Regardless, her head snaps in his direction, big eyes on him with a mixture of confusion and shock. “What?”

“I have….I have something I need to handle for work.” That feels like an oversimplification, and she has no doubt it is. Knows that there’s so much about his work and what he does that there’s not enough time and space in the world for him to catch her up on. Not that she would even want to know the full truth, to be honest.

Some things are better left unknown.

“How—how long will you be gone?”

Solana hates the way her mood has just taken yet another turn in a downward direction. She doesn’t know why it saddens her to know that he’s leaving, to have this sense of anxiety growing in the pit of her stomach at the knowledge that he’s leaving.

He answers it so calmly, so easily. Like it’s the most simplest thing. “A couple days. No more than a week.”

A week.

The anxiety is slowly trickling into something deeper and heavier. It shows in her face and body language.

Roman notices this and asks, “what is it?”

She feels silly even saying it, but there’s also a small desire to just be honest with him. To not hide anything. Even if she does feel a bit embarrassed saying so. “It’s just…I haven’t been away from you since the wedding.”

Solana hates that she’s making this moment about her, that she’s redirecting attention onto herself, but at the same time, she can’t ignore her anxiety at just the thought of Roman being gone. Roman is her protector. The one who has made it so nothing bad has happened to her since they exchanged vows. Even with the Theory and Waller situation. That only happened because she hadn’t made him aware. There’s no doubt in her mind now that had she told him from the beginning, he would have nipped it in the bud.

But for the first time in months, she has to think about something unfamiliar. She has to think about being without his protection.

Her right hand moves to her pajama shorts, pulling at the cotton. Roman sees this telling action and brings his hand under her chin, lifting and making her look at him. “Talk to me.”

It’s suddenly a difficult thing, because she’s not sure she knows how to describe it exactly. So she just asks him instead, voice small, “will Solo still be here?”

And it’s in how he looks at her, how something flashes in his eyes that she knows he knows. “You’re scared.” It’s more of an assessment than anything, and she can’t deny it, no matter how badly she wants to.

Because no matter how far she’s come, the steps and strides that she’s made, there’s still this deep down fear.

Fear of her dad and brother.

Fear of their anger and punishment for how she’s been made completely out of reach and contact with them.

Fear of their threat from what feels like so long ago.

“Either you kill Reigns, or we kill you.”

And suddenly the fear shifts from what they could do to her and entirely to what they could do to the man before her who suddenly looks like he’s engaging in his own internal dialogue.

“I figured you would be.” She’s listening, but she’s also worrying, mind starting to race with thoughts about Roman and his safety. “Yes, Solo will still be here. And I asked Bayley to stay at the house with you till I get back.”

“Are the twins going with you?”

He looks taken back by her question, and her stomach drops when he shakes his head. “No. I….I need to handle this on my own.”

Her stomach is a resting stop for daggers. Sharp and swift slices of pain circulating. Solana sits up, angling herself so she can see him better. “You’re gonna be alone?” The scenarios could be in the millions now, her chest starting to tighten, matching the knotting in her belly. “But—but what if something happens? Who’s gonna look out for you—”

“Hey.” And he’s sitting up, one hand on her face, the other on her waist. “Solana, where is this coming from?” That only makes her anxiety spike, her eyes watering at horrible, dark thoughts that involve her losing the first person since her mom who’s ever made her feel wanted. “I’ll be fine. I won’t be alone. But even if I was, I’ve been looking out for myself for a long time. It’s nothing new.”

But that looking out for himself probably almost always involved a sense of knowing what to look out for. He can’t look out for her dad and brother if he has no idea they even have their grisly sights set on him. He doesn't know because she still hasn’t told him. Hasn’t been woman enough to be honest with this man when his literal life is at stake.

It turns her stomach for an entirely different reason. Her sudden sense of self hatred.

Her internal strife must show as he gently moves his thumb across her cheek. “You worry that much about me?” It’s another statement, borderline realization, and he’s not looking for an answer.

She does. She really, truly does. Solana admits with all the emotion and vulnerability, both from his leaving and the inner turmoil at sitting on such a secret, “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

And yet, she can’t bring herself to mouth those words, all of the various, horrible ways he could respond rushing to the forefront of her mind. He’ll be angry. Angry at her. He could….he could lose his temper.

He could lose it on her.

And she couldn’t even blame him, couldn't be upset at him because she would deserve it.

She’d deserve whatever punishment he saw fit.

“It won’t,” he says, tone promising and convincing. It briefly brings her back to the main conversation at hand vs the debate going on in her head. “I been doing this a long time, Solana. I know how to keep myself safe.”

She believes it. Knows he’s capable of unspeakable acts in the name of protection and execution. Still, it does little to abate her nerves.

She whispers, “Roman…my father…” She feels physically sick, the weight of it all making it difficult for her to properly express herself, explain to him the real reason behind her concern. “He….he’s dangerous.”

Roman’s expression is unreadable, but she can’t tell if that’s because she’s so in her head or he’s put back on that mask that the rest of the world sees. That obscured countenance that’s no doubt deeply aided in all of his success. “Solana, I told you before, I’m not a good man. I’ve hurt more, killed more, tortured more people than you can ever imagine.” He’s not trying to scare her. She knows this. Just trying to remind her of who the fuck he really is. “That son of a bitch has no idea what dangerous is.”

“I just—” She’s able to simplify it all to one basic word that carries so much more than what he probably realizes. “I’m scared.”

Roman sighs, disposition softening a bit. “I figured you would be…” He matches her gaze, almost needing her to look at him directly as he speaks without an ounce of indecision. “Solana, I would never leave you if I thought danger was present. Nothing’s going to happen to me or you.” He brings his mouth to her shoulder, pressing a kiss. “Solo will guard you, and I asked Bayley to come stay here at the house with you until I get back.”

The last part is what gives her the most pause and a small slice of comfort. “R–really?”

He nods. “I’d have asked Naomi too, but that means Jimmy be over here, and the last time his ass was here while I was gone, I had to redo the whole damn fireplace.”

She smiles and laughs a little, a much needed respite from all of her big emotions. There’s a story there. She’d love to know, but timing is everything. Maybe another day.

His lips linger on her temple, vowing, “everything’s gonna be fine.”

Interestingly enough, even in all of the confidence of his delivery, Roman is secretly wondering the same thing as Solana.

Will it?

________

The house feels strange without Roman.

Yes, he’s typically gone the majority of the days and makes it back late in the evening, but there’s still his presence at some point or another.

The past few days, however, have not provided that.

And while Solana is deeply grateful for Bayley’s presence, it’s still not the same.

It’s not Roman.

She sits across Bayley and Naomi in the living room, Dulce snuggled up next to her as the three women chit chat about any and everything. Solana does her best to be as deeply immersed as possible. It keeps her from checking her phone to see if Roman has replied to her text.

In the time he’s been gone, their communication has been sparse. He always replies, eventually, but she’s noticed that she’s the one who’s initiated most of it. It makes her feel like a bit of a nuisance, like she’s bothering him.

But, it’s the only thing that keeps her anxiety grounded. To be able to maintain contact with him. To know he’s okay.

Naomi notices this, sees the way she keeps glancing at her phone as if that’ll make it light up with a certain five letter name. “Don’t take it personal, girl. Roman does this every so often.”

At that, her attention fully switches from the phone to Naomi’s statement. “What do you mean?”

“He disappears for a few days. No more than a week. Goes completely off the grid. No contact with anyone. Not even Paul. Does it every couple months, sometimes more frequently.” She says it like it’s normal, like it should make sense. “He’s done it for years.”

“Despite the Bloodline being pretty family oriented, he can be a bit of a loner.” Bayley chimes, throwing some popcorn in her mouth.

Solana frowns, confused and slightly troubled by this information. “Where—where does he go?”

Naomi shrugs. “I don't know. Only the twins do, but they’ve never said shit and never will. They all might annoy each other on a daily basis, but the loyalty among the three of them is unmatched.”

Solana’s mind is racing. She can see someone like her husband wanting and maybe even needing time to be by himself. But the fact that it’s a regular thing, not to mention such a secret thing, has her mind racing and wondering just where does he go? What does he do while he’s gone?

Something Naomi said makes Solana clarify. “We’ve been texting since he left. Not…not as much as we usually do when he’s here, but he’s communicated with me.”

Naomi’s eyes widen. “Seriously?” Solana nods, almost unsure. “Damn. That’s a first then. He never talks to anyone when he leaves like that.”

Solana is quiet. Unsure of what to make of that either. Confused as to why Roman would break ‘tradition’ for her. And then she’s embarrassed, frustrated with herself for not being respectful of him and his time.

He doesn’t have all the time in the world to deal with her and her neediness.

Grabbing her phone, she sends out two texts and puts it face down, determine to not check again until later in the evening.

Solana: I’m sorry I’ve been bothering you while you’re trying to work.

Solana: I’ll leave you alone. Just please be careful.

Bayley is looking over in Solana’s direction when her eyes land on something. “Holy shit, is that what I think it is?” Solana frowns, confused as Bayley’s mouth slips into a shit eating grin. “It is. Damn, how did I not notice that before?”

And before Solana can ask, Bayley hits Naomi on her arm, pointing to Solana’s neck. “They must be having a good ass time over here.”

That’s when Solana realizes what she’s referring to. Her cheeks start to burn a bit as she places her hand over the courtesy of a certain husband of hers hickey.

Naomi is also smiling cheekily. “A very good time.”

But, it’s this conversation that paves the way for something else. That reminds Solana that these two ladies are her friends, her confidants, and also a lot more experienced in a certain area where she most definitely is not.

“Can I ask you guys something?” Naomi and Bayley both turn to Solana at the same time with Bayley being the first to speak.

“Come on, Solana. You already know you can ask us anything.”

“Yeah. That shouldn’t even be a question.”

That was the easy part, the harder part comes with unveiling the nature of her request. “It’s umm—it’s about sex.”

While she initially expects some type of discomfort, she only receives an increased level of intrigue.

“You can most definitely ask then.” Bayley quips, pulling her legs up under her on the sofa. “What’s going on?”

Solana starts to ask them to keep it between the group, but it feels redundant. She’s learned to trust that their conversations remain private and confidential. “Roman and I—umm—” Yup. this is definitely the hard part. “I asked him if we could….if we could work up to eventually, umm, having….you know.”

Naomi makes an ‘o’ with her mouth and then nods, almost reassuringly. “Okay.” She seems to be thinking on how she wants to ask, “are you—would it be your first time?”

Solana shakes her head, gaze dropping to her lap. “No. I—umm—” She presses her lips together and briefly closes her eyes, sharing in a quiet tone, “I was raped when I was younger.”

There’s such a mixed, jumbled bag of emotions at saying it aloud. At acknowledging her trauma without allowing that fact to overwhelm her. It’s only the second time she’s said it to anyone other than herself, but there’s also this space that feels a sense of relief at not having to hold it all in anymore.

That part of it….it’s liberating.

Naomi, however, looks distraught. “Oh my god, Solana, I’m so sorry. I didn't know—”

“No, no, it’s okay. How could you have known?” Solana knows they mean no harm, that Naomi was asking out of genuine interest vs trying to get her to divulge her trauma. She also appreciates how neither woman looks at her with an overwhelming sense of sympathy. Like they feel bad for her. Solana doesn’t want that anymore.

Doesn’t want to be seen as a victim anymore.

She takes a deep breath. “That’s why touch is hard for me, but I’ve been—I’ve been using this workbook for people who were assaulted, and it’s—it’s been helping a lot.” That feels like putting it lightly. Solana has felt life changing differences from working through that book. “But now, I—I want to try to have…that with him, but I don’t—there’s a lot I don’t know about….about pleasing a man.”

Bayley again exchanges looks with Naomi before taking over the conversation. “Does….does Roman know about—”

“He does.” She nods, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “He….he was the first person I told.”

And she doesn’t regret it. Maybe regrets that she doesn’t recall how exactly it came out, but she’s happy he was the one to be there with her in that moment of release.

“Okay.” Bayley seems relieved at this knowledge. So does Naomi. “And I don’t mean to make you feel like you need to tell him. That’s your truth. You tell or don’t tell anyone you want, but I do think him knowing could help him be….I don’t know, patient?”

Solana nods, explaining with all the truth and sincerity, “he’s been really great with that.”

Because he has. Roman has met her every step of the way of this journey, ready and willing to give her whatever she needs.

“Good.” Naomi also appears genuinely reassured by this piece of information. “But also, Solana, it shouldn’t be about you pleasing him. It should be about him pleasing you.”

Solana shifts in her seat, shrugging slightly as she admits, “I don’t—I don’t even know if it could be…could be pleasing for me.”

That’s the part she struggles with. Tries not to think too much about it for fear of it hindering her progress. If the trauma of what she endured permanently ruined that for her.

Naomi, however, is quick with the rebuttal. She shakes her head. “Trust me. With the right partner who knows what he’s doing, it can definitely be pleasing.”

“I guess that’s what worries me too. He’s….he’s so experienced, and I’m—I’m not.” She frowns, sharing and unveiling a layer of vulnerability. “I don’t want it to be…..to be bad for him.” Solana has heard and learned enough by now to know that her husband is a person who likes sex, who’s tumbled in the sheets with more women than she’d probably care to know. And that part doesn’t bother her as much as the comparisons component does. It’s hard not to think about how he’s well versed and probably has high expectations that she’s almost certain she could never exceed, let alone meet.

It’s a bit discouraging, to say the least.

“Fuck him,” Bayley suddenly exclaims and then clarifies. “Not literally, but like, girl, this really is about you. This is….this has to be a big thing for you, and the fact that you’re even willing to try it makes me think Roman must be doing something to make you feel comfortable enough to try it with him.”

That’s an understatement. A small smile falls on her face, just thinking about the measures he’s taken to ensure her comfortability. “He is….he’s really good to me.”

Naomi jumps in. “And that just blows my mind because he’s never been with any woman the way he is with you. He’s never given a damn about them, but he clearly cares about you. And that also makes me think he’ll also be all about making you feel good versus you getting him off.”

That gives Solana a slice of comfort. The fact that he seems to be going against his preferred sexual nature to meet her exactly where she is. He hasn’t given off any indication this is something that bothers or frustrates him. At least none that she’s seen yet.

Bayley suddenly shifts gears a bit, seeming a bit awkward as she struggles to get out her sentence. “I will say though, there are….rumors that….well—” She turns to Noami, advising. “Might want to cover your eyes.”

She instead rolls her eyes. “Girl, he’s family by marriage. Not blood. I’m listening.”

Bayley laughs as Solana continues to look on a bit confused. “There are a lot of rumors that Roman is….well, he’s big all over. Like….everywhere.” She gestures to her crotch area. “You get my drift?”

And though her cheeks are painted red to match the heat inside at this conversation, Solana nods. “We….we were kissing the other day. Well, maybe more making out, and he….well, he became…..he got hard, and it was….noticeable.”

Solana feels a bit mortified at sharing such intimate details of her interaction with Roman, but Bayley and Naomi seem almost vindicated. “Oh my god, so they are true. I knew it.”

Naomi is fanning herself as she points out. “also, sis, if he’s getting hard just from kissing you, then he’s definitely gonna be all about you when you guys finally go there. His attraction to you is insane.”

Solana can’t find it in her to deny that.

Because her attraction to him is just as intense, if not more.

Bayley practically squeals but clears her throat, switching back to a more serious tone. “But back to the initial topic, because he’s well endowed, it may hurt a bit at first. It’s a matter of learning your partner, and your partner learning you. Communication is also key. If something isn’t right or doesn’t feel good, let him know.” Solana internally winces at the comment about it hurting. That’s a part that makes her nervous, that pain bringing on flashbacks of her assault. But, that’s also when she knows she has to remind herself that this isn’t that. That Roman isn’t them.

He’s not trying to hurt her.

Naomi gives her gentle shove. “But, once you get past that pain, it really can be a wonderful thing.”

It makes Solana smile a bit. That’s what she’s hoping for.

“Especially with Roman, cause I mean this with all the respect in the world, Solana, but that man is fine as hell.” Bayley lifts her hands in a surrender motion. “Don’t worry, I don’t want him like that, but I’m not blind either.”

“It wouldn’t make a difference even if you did, cause baby, he is all about Solana.”

Solana’s blushing is on level 10 as she looks down, shrugging with one shoulder, “he’s….he’s really great. I—I’ve never had a man be so nice to me before.”

Naomi shakes her head. “That’s because you’ve never dated a real man before. Hell, you’ve never been around real men until now. Because real men don’t do what your shithole ass brother and father did to you. And probably your ex’s too. Cause I feel like you mentioned an ex.”

Solana nods, gently disclosing some details of her last relationship. “He used to…he used to talk about my weight.” One of many things, but that seemed to be his favorite talking point. “I think I tried to make it work because…well, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because he never tried to make me do anything with him. He…he used to say that I—that I was too fat for him to want to fuck me.”

Four months ago, talking about this would maybe have Solana in tears. But now, it just somewhat upsets her that someone could be so cruel, that she ever believed that. That she ever believed she was so unappealing that no man would want to be with her in that way.

Meanwhile, Naomi looks like she’s contemplating murder. “Girl, please give Roman that man’s name so he can fuck his bitch ass up.”

“Fuck that. I’ll fuck him up myself because what in the actual hell?” Bayley seems legitimately pissed off too. “Like bro, if your dick is small, just say that.”

“Solana, on a scale of 1 to 10, how attractive was your ex?”

She has to think about Naomi’s question. At the time, the score might have been higher, but now, it’s much lower due to well learned common sense. “Maybe a 4.”

“And on a scale of 1 to 10, how attractive would you rate Roman?”

That’s probably the easiest thing she’s been asked all day. “A 10.”

“Exactly, so if a fine ass man like Roman sees how equally fine you are, you do realize your ex was just an insecure prick, right?”

That’s also a surprisingly easy answer. Solana shakes her head. “I do now.” He was never good enough for her, and she never deserved to be spoken to so cruelly. These are facts she cannot and will not dispute.

“Good.” Naomi sighs with relief, leaning back into the sofa. “God, I hate the male species sometimes.” She takes a sip of her wine and is back on track, “but anyway, back to you and Roman, just make sure you stretch real good.”

“Oh my god, Naomi.”

“What? We can’t have her out here not prepared.” She defends and advises, “If you’re on top, and I don’t know, that may be better for you so you feel more in control, moving your hips as if you’re spelling your name will make any man come in under a minute. Guaranteed.”

Bayley adds on, “yeah, but you also gotta have strong legs if you’re riding. I be getting cramps and shit.”

Solana is trying to sit on this information, a strange yet pleasant feeling pooling in the small of her stomach at some of the things being said as well as a brief glimpse of those things coming to fruition.

She shifts in her seat.

Naomi then unintentionally provides a nice detour of the conversation. “But wait, I have to ask just how well did your date go with Roman because ya’ll seem to have jumped hurdles in such a short time?”

Just thinking about their surprise date has her smiling all over again. “The date was really nice, but—but you guys didn’t have to go through all that.”

Bayley chuckles. “Not according to Jimmy.”

“Jimmy?” Her frown is back. “What are you talking about?”

Naomi is the one to answer, explaining, “he said when we went to see Roman the other day at his office, ya’ll were arguing. It’s why he rushed to have us set up that dinner. Said it was a bad fight.”

“Arguing?” Solana shakes her head. “No. No. We—we were kissing when he walked in.” And the blush is back again at the memory of his soft lips on hers for the first time. A first she’s certain she’ll never forget. “Roman was irritated because we were interrupted. Not…not at me.”

“Lord Jesus, I swear my husband is lucky he’s fine because the way this boy really had us all thinking ya’ll were about to get divorced or something.” Naomi is rubbing her temples. “So, you’re both good?”

Solana nods. She’s not sure she’s ever been more happy in her life than she has been the past couple weeks.

Not since her mom was alive.

The women continue to chat it up, switching gears and topics when Jimmy and Jey arrive, both heading straight for the fridge to grab the containers of food she had ready and waiting for them.

It’s when the group is trying to settle on a movie or something to watch when Solana finally checks her phone to see her lock screen littered with notifications.

All from Roman.

She immediately unlocks it, reading over the messages.

Roman: Solana, you never bother me.

Roman: Where is this coming from?

Roman: Answer the phone.

It’s only then she sees she has a missed FaceTime call from him as well.

Solana untangles her legs and gets up from the sofa, laying Dulce in her bed so she doesn't try to jump off the sofa.

She attempts to let the group know of her brief absence. “I’ll be right back. Roman called me.”

Bayley sort of nods in acknowledgement, but the other three seem stuck on trying to pick between a comedy and a thriller.

Solana taps at her phone and hits the call button as she moves through the kitchen to go out the backdoor.

Roman answers almost immediately.

She slides the door shut behind her, opening up with a textbook apology. “I’m sorry, I was talking to Bayley and Naomi, so I wasn’t checking my phone.”

He doesn’t waste a second in jumping right to the point. “Why do you think you’ve been bothering me?”

Solana takes a minute to get situated on the sun chaise, setting up the phone so it’s propped against the back of the chaise while enjoying the excuse to not have to give him an immediate answer.

“I don’t know.” She finally answers, gaze on her crossed legs instead of him, an intentional deflection. “I was looking over our texts, and I didn’t realize just how much I’ve been texting you.”

“Solana…”

“I just didn’t mean to be messaging you so much when you’re trying to work.”

“Solana, you should know me by now to know I don’t do anything I don’t want to fucking do. If I didn't want to respond to you, I wouldn’t have.” He says it so confidently that she almost doesn’t feel like she has the right to not believe him. “I would have left you on delivered just like everybody else. But you’re not everybody else, so I responded.”

Solana looks up, noticing that he’s sitting outside as well, on a patio of some sort. Same as her.

“I know something else triggered that for you, and I’m gonna find out what it is, but I’ll let it go for now.” She’s thankful for that too. This doesn’t seem like a FaceTime type of conversation anyway. “How you feeling?”

“Good.” It’s an accurate answer. Him being home would make things even better. “Having Bayley here has helped a ton. Thank you again for asking her to stay with me.” According to Bayley, it was less him asking and more of him telling, but Bay stressed that she was more than okay with it, hence Solana not feeling like she was inconveniencing anyone.

“I knew you wouldn’t want to be alone.” And she’s appreciative of that. That he’s seemed to learn her well enough to know that even with Dulce, it would be an uncomfortable thing for her. “You said Naomi’s there?” She nods. “Fuck, Solana tell me you didn’t.”

And it’s interesting to her how she already knows where this is going. A small smile growing on her face. “They’re your cousins.”

He ignores that, straight up asking. “Did you let them back in the house?”

Feeling a bit emboldened, she throws it back at him, asking. “Did you ban them from the house?”

Solana was wondering why the twins hadn’t been over since Roman was away, only for Naomi to inform her that they’d been getting denied entrance at the gate to Roman’s property.

A directive from Roman himself prior to him leaving.

And he doesn't even try to deny it. “I sure fucking did.”

Solana shakes her head, but she can’t help the smile on her face. His relationship with his cousins is so comical to her. “Roman, that’s mean.”

“Solana, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not a nice person.” She starts to push back on that, push back on his belief that he’s somehow not a good person when he’s one of the best people she’s ever met. “I like you, tolerate them, and hate everyone else. Matter of fact, they asses are about to be grouped into the hate category too.”

“They’re not that—” And before she can finish her line of defense, a loud sound, a shattering of sorts cuts through that attempt. She frowns and turns toward the house.

“Man, what the hell did you do!”

“Aye, it ain’t my fault! I told you the shit couldn’t hold your weight!”

“See, now ya’ll breaking shit in Big Dog house! This why he don’t be wanting ya’ll over here!” Jimmy’s voice becomes louder and clearer followed by the sliding door opening and Dulce running out, jumping at the chaise for Solana to pick her up.

She does as such, noticing that Dulce is shaking, most likely in fear. “Jimmy, what—”

“What the fuck did ya’ll break now?”

Roman’s voice catches everyone off guard, even Dulce whose ears perk up and tail starts to wag as she sees him on the phone screen.

Jimmy looks a shade of anxious asking in a harsh whispered voice. “Damn, SoSo, why you ain’t tell me ya’ll was still on?”

“Fuck! I stepped on glass!”

“I told your dumbass to put shoes on!”

“Ayo, Bay, watch ya’ fucking mouth, alright?”

Jimmy chuckles almost nervously, moving near Solana to be in frame of the camera. “Whasup, cuz. Nothing. We just, uh, was watching a movie.”

Roman looks even more irritated at the obvious lie. “Ya’ll got ten minutes to get the fuck out of my house—”

“Damn, Uce, I hear Naomi calling me. I��ll see you when you get back!” And Jimmy doesn’t even wait for Roman to reply, no doubt the continuation and issuance of a threat anyway.

But it’s as he runs back into the house, bickering continuing between him and Jey that Solana rethinks her initial stance. “Maybe….maybe you have a point.”

“Do you see what I’m saying?” Roman looks at Dulce who continues to look at him through the screen, barking occasionally. She’s so excited to see him. “Look, even the damn dog don’t like em’. Ain’t that supposed to be man’s best friend or something?”

Roman’s irritation is felt through the screen, but it doesn’t scare her, doesn’t bother her. Her smile grows again as she asks, “are—are you still coming back Sunday?”

His answer comes on the end of a long sigh, his anger naturally melting away. “yes.”

An instant wave of relief washes over as she asks a follow up question. “So you got everything figured out?”

He hesitates, looking at her for a bit before answering. “For now.”

Solana wants to ask more, because she knows there’s more. He’s saying just enough to answer her questions, and while she normally would leave that alone, there’s a part of her that worries. Something was clearly bothering him before he left, and he suddenly feels or at least seems better. She can’t help but wonder what was bothering him, what helped him to feel better.

Or who.

Because she can’t stop thinking about the information she received from Naomi. It’s not uncommon for Roman to disappear every couple months, sometimes more frequently, okay. But just where does he go and why is it some big secret?

“You’re overthinking something.” Even however many miles away he is, Roman is still exceptionally adept at reading her. “What is it?”

Lying to him isn’t an option, but the full truth isn’t either. “Just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m good, Solana. I promise.”

She wants to believe him, but it’s hard. She just does her best to not feed too much of the anxiety.

Studying his face, she has to force herself to get past his attractiveness to recognize the dark circles under his eyes. “You’re probably tired.” Not to mention, she feels bad for pulling him away from whatever he was doing. “I should go help them clean up.”

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of talking to you.” Her stomach flutters with all the butterflies only he can seem to give her. “And no, they broke the shit. Let them clean it up.” He easily adds on, “besides, I need to run some things by you.”

This gives her pause, as she stammers a bit. “O–okay.”

“One. I need to know what you want and want to do for your birthday. Two, there’s a Gala next week I have to attend, and I want you to come with me.”

Two major things, the first of which she didn’t realize was coming, the second she doesn’t even know how to think about.

And maybe it’s less she didn’t know her birthday was coming and more it’s been so long since she’s acknowledged her birthday. Since anyone around her acknowledged her birthday. It feels almost foreign just the idea of doing anything.

Finally, she answers more of his first question than the first. “Nothing. I don’t—I’m not big on birthdays.”

She hasn’t been since her mother’s murder.

That was the last year anyone ever told her happy birthday.

Roman, however, doesn’t seem to find this as an acceptable answer. “No, your pussy father and brother probably barely acknowledged your birthday, but I’m not them. We’re doing something. Preferably something out of town, because if my fucking cousins interfere in any way, I’m killing them.”

Her smile returns, soft and slightly amused. “Roman, you don’t have to. I just—just come back home, and I’ll be fine.”

And it’s the truth. Just him being back will be more than enough.

Again though, enough for her, but clearly not him. “I’ll handle it then.”

She shakes her head. “Ro—”

“What about the gala?”

Something tells her his mind is made, and when that happens, there is no room for negotiation. So she redirects her focus on the next topic. A gala sounds fancy, uppity almost. It doesn’t seem like his setting, but something also tells her it’s more an appearance he has to attend as leader of the Bloodline vs a preferred outing.

But, there’s only one main question at the front of her mind. “Will you be with me the whole night?”

“Of course.”

There’s an instant wave of relief as she agrees. “I’ll go.” As long as he’s with her, she’s okay. And if he has to be there, she’d like to at least support him in any way she can.

“Good.” He seems pleased by this, adding on coyly. “Selfishly, I just want to see your fine ass all dressed up.”

Solana giggles as Dulce barks. A comfortable silence settles over them as something flutters in her chest, a warm, almost fuzzy type of feeling.

Happy.

She feels happy.

But….but something else. Something both warm and cool, different but familiar, pleasing but scary. A perfect yet imperfect balance of feelings.

Lips parting, she tries her best to ignore the thumping feeling in her chest. “Roman, I–”

“Ayo, Soso, ya’ll got a fire extinguisher?”

________

“Still nothing?”

It’s the first thing Xavier asks as soon as his son steps foot in his hospital room. It was only a few days prior that Wes was released, finally cleared and recovered enough from his injuries sustained from the Bloodline.

Xavier, however, has not been as lucky. Age and a body already riddled with health issues has prolonged his stay. However, this has only given him time to think, time to plan, time to really evaluate the actions that got him here.

His son answers with a cold, "no."

But while Xavier has schemed, Wes, however, has only stewed. Sat and become overcome with feelings of rage. All directed to one person.

Solana

Just thinking of her makes him snap as he punches his still healing fist into the closest wall. “That little bitch betrayed us!”

Xavier is used to his son’s violent outbursts, so he has no reaction other than a knowing smirk. “Maybe not.”

Wes looks at his dad, wondering if he’s so high on morphine that he has no idea what he’s saying. “Have you spoken to her? Cause I sure fucking haven’t. She was supposed to keep in contact!”

“She was supposed to earn Reigns trust.” Xavier corrects calmly. “And it seems she has.”

Wes calms down a bit, interested in where his father is going. “What are you talking about?”

“Think about it.” Xavier thinks highly of his son, recognizes his potential for greatness. But there’s still some room for growth. Wes can often be blinded by his own hubris. “That level of rage Reigns had….that wasn’t his usual. It was personal.”

Wes is still stumped, not following fully. “What do you mean? That smug bastard is always like that.”

“No. He came after us specifically for her. Because he was upset about whatever she’s told him we’ve done.” Xavier doesn’t waste the opportunity to bestow a lesson upon his son. He asks, challenging his critical thinking skills, “why do you think that is?”

Wes is quiet, thinking carefully on not only what occurred but what can be inferred between the lines of what occurred. And as realization sets in, so does his vile grin “He cares about her.”

Xavier smiles wickedly. “Exactly.” He rests against the pillow behind his back, ignoring the pain that just that slight movement causes to shoot through his still healing body. Damn morphine must be wearing off. “It seems our little beauty has enchanted the beast.”

Wes nods but then points out. “But how can we be sure? It could very well just be him being possessive. Feeling disrespected only because he sees her as an extension. What we see as personal could just be pride.”

Another smile befalls Xavier’s still bruised, cut up face. “You’re learning.” He nods, grabbing his phone. “That’s exactly correct. We must know for certain before making any moves.” He flips his phone showing the exclusive invite to William Regal's annual gala. “But, I know exactly how we’re going to find out.”

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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murfeelee · 1 year ago

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Murf's Top 50 Mods - Part 3 (2020 - 2023 Edition)

I made a Top 50 list (Pt 1 and Pt2) back in 2016, talking about mods that I've used & love. But with all the goated content that the amazing TS3 community continues to churn out, I NEEDED to update my list! This one in no way diminishes or negates the other mods I've already listed--like, I shouldn't have to sit here and explain how NRAAS continues to carry TS3 on its freaking shoulders, ok. This is just MORE mods, the Top 50 most RECENT ones I've tried out since, like, quarantine.

I am a VERY niche simmer--I love fantasy gameplay, so my fave mods are the ones that not only offer general quality of life improvements, but also add new abilities and interactive objects inspired by different cultures, time periods, or genres. So y'all already KNOW which ones have earned my top spots. They're not based on which mods are "better," just which ones I personally have been using the most.

1: Smooth Patch, LazyDuchess

I've already gushed about this mod, but oh well. Like--I use an EFFTON of CC. My Live Mode gameplay itself doesn't tend to lag so much as my game's slow to LOAD, slow to save, CAS is a nightmare, I can do my taxes waiting for the Misc Decor section to open, etc etc. But the Smooth Patch loads everything so much quicker for me! 😭

One thing is that on the EA App version (curse you, EA) the Master Controller package didn't work on my end, so I took it out, but everything else has been great!

2: Search Mod, LazyDuchess

Speaking of the Misc Decor section -- HOW LONG did we ask EA for a Search function y'all? Only to be ignored. Then the second TS4 is released, it ain't got a effing thing in it, but it's got a Search function??? 🤔 ISTG it's like the simgurus were told to take all of the TS3 community's best suggestions, and poach them for TS4 (like vampire coffins--NO I'm not over it!). WHY do modders have to do your frikkin job for you, EA?! I call EA lazy all the time cuz EA you suck, so it's the most ironic thing ever that LazyDuchess is out here KILLING IT.

My ONLY "complaint" about the Search mod is the position of the icon. I use A LOT of Collection Files, and I noticed that the Search icon actually covers the Delete button when in the Collection viewer. So I can't delete items in collections with the Search icon in the way.

But this is a MINOR nitpick--I almost never delete items, it's just something I noticed is all.

3 - 8: OCCULT MODS: EVERYTHING by @puddingface1902

Y'all already know the Enhanced Witches mod is my favorite mod ever made. But PF1902 also made cool enhancements to the Fairies, Genies, Vampires, Werewolves, and Mermaids too! My sims are usually Nraas hybrids (e.g.: Sakura is a faery, witch & plantsim; Magnus Bane is a witch & genie; etc.), so it's FANTASTIC having so many new abilities for my magical occults. 😍

9 - 11: OCCULT MODS by xantak22

Even more occult mods at MTS are for enhanced Plantsims, Ghosts, and Mummies! I was dying for more Plantsim abilities, omg, they're my 3rd fave occult after Witches & Fae.

12: Sim Control Tools by Knight

Sooooo many quality of life mods have come out! ^0^

I've been ABUSING the Teleport To Me function, to quickly get sims off of lots & where I need them to be. It also lets sims unlock more Social/Romantic interactions. (Now all we need is a way to interact with sims from EA's useless thumbnails.)

13 - 18: @anitmb's mods

There are SOOOO many--most I've yet to even try. But so far newer ones I've been using are the Deck of Cards (FINALLY something other than EA's bulky AF poker table!), Farm Mod (look at all these CHICKENS!), and Hunting mod so my 8000 archer sims can actually hunt! (Ofc I've also used the Woodcutter and Anvil mods in my older gameplay posts, too.) And @mspoodle1's edit of the Cup of Tea mod is so pretty.

19: @mspoodle1's Poker table

Another excellent cards mod is this medieval style poker table I use a lot now, too.

20: @omedapixel's Wildflowers DR

I like EA's default wildflowers from SSNS, but Omeda's are just sooooo much nicer. (I haven't gotten around to trying out their Harvestable Plant DR yet.)

21: Swordfighting mod by CyrusBanefort

En garde! This mod is so freaking epic!

One thing I've noticed is that the game lags while it waits for the mod to boot up (a message has to first pop up saying it's running when you first launch your saves). But other than that this mod is excellent.

22 - 24: Yoga rugs

I've long been using the yoga rugs by Kitabalibar and the edited one from @mspoodle1. But now there's the newest one by @twinsimming, with brand new animations & features. The more the merrier I say, LOL. What's especially neat is the kids wobbling around as they try to do yoga! :3

25 - 30: TheSweetSimmer's mods--so cute! :3

Omg so frikkin many, I can't even catch up! The interactions are so freaking precious, like from the More Toddler Interactions (cuddle, look at, etc) & Biggest Little Mod (hug legs), I've never had so much fun playing with kids! <3 And I LOVE that they can Catch Butterflies and Pick Flowers--you'd think plantsim children would be able to do this by default, EA! Honestly, just grab everything by TSS, your kid sims will thank you!

31 - 33: @spheresims Medieval/Nature/Tribal mods

Y'all know I'm crazy about the Functional Fireplaces mod (the cauldrons, baby! 😈), but the One with Nature and Wildlife Hunting mods are great too, perfectly complimenting the off-the-grid realness.

34: @olomayasims/Cmomoney Smoking Mod Overhaul

The original smoking mod was on my first Top 50 list, so it's awesome seeing it get new upgrades, interactions & animations.

I've never smoked IRL, but sooooo many of my sims just puff-puff away; I'm such an enabler. U_U Now all we need is cigars and pipes!

35 - 38: Callia-Evergreen/Camkitty's CAS CC for animal hybrids at MTS

Not a "mod" per se, but whatever--my list my rules! I love ALL of their CC, but I get SO MUCH use out of animal-themed CC like the digitigrade sliders, wolf feet, lizard tails, and fae wings. Do check them out if you like to play with horror and monster-sims!

39: @greenplumbboblover's Sheep

EASILY one of the most incredible mods I've ever seen. Like....HOW? (Once @omedapixel's Goats are done I'm gonna start screaming someone do llamas pleeeeeaaaaase!!!)

40: Arsil's musical instruments mod

I used the sax most recently in my IWTV gameplay, and it was excellent, perfect for the NOLA vibes! However, although I use the flute A LOT more (for my Untamed gameplay--it's been such a GODSEND!), I really wish the hands were positioned better, preferably using the poses from Chisims' flute poseset. (But I don't eff with poses/animations, otherwise I'd do it myself. U_U) Ah well, it's still one of my fave mods though.

41 - 42: Flower Arranging mod by zoe22 + @mspoodle1's Florist Collection

Guys, I've been wanting this mod since FOREVER! ^0^ (I swear, the best thing about TS4 is all the 4t3 conversions, LMAO!) I just wish Teens could Dabble and use it, too--all they can do is stock the table.

43: Just Sit/Nap Anywhere by FloTheory

Sometimes you just want sims to fall asleep anywhere, DANG, EA!

44: @sweetdevil-sims' Toddler Food DR

Cuz EA's food is UUUUUUUUGLY~! I kept forgetting to install it, only to be rudely reminded every time I had to look at my toddler sims eating MUD.

45 - 46: @mspoodle1's mail pen quill DR and @omedapixel's pencil quill DR

I looooove quill pens IRL (ballpoint pens, not the fountain pens--I'm way too messy), so having mods that let my sims use them too is 👌

47: Fireflies Enhanced! by Canibal_MLO

I love anything that enhances the wildlife and collectibles/harvestables to be more dynamic and interactive. And I was JUST about to do a firefly catching scene for my IWTV insp. gameplay, so this came right on time! The falling leaves effect is delightful, but I kinda wish it was falling flower petals instead, cuz ofc I do. 🌸

48: Unicorn Aurora DR by Canibal_MLO

GORGEOUS. This mod replaces the unicorn mist with northern lights, like.... I love the genius ideas simmers have.

49: Custom Plumbbob Color tool by CrossTheMersey

What a neat idea! Although the default Maxis colors are ingrained in my psyche, with the iconic green plumbbob, as soon as I saw this mod I knew I wanted to at least try something different and play around with it.

50: @aa6x7's Teru Teru Bozu + other edits [Honorable Mention]

I rave about Cmomoney's Time/Weather Mod all the time, I use it constantly. AA6x7's Teru Teru Bozu (Japanese "Sunshine Monk" charms) is kinda like a simpler version of it, as it just resets bad weather back to Sunny. But it's such a cute idea and perfect for my gameplay. Plus, AA6x7 makes all kinds of neat edits/mods to EA's bulky AF meshes, so if you haven't checked them out already, DO!

And that's all the mods I've managed to try out recently!

I don't have anywhere near the kind of free time that I used to, so my simming has been put on the backburner and I've missed all kinds of cool and exciting releases. But trust: I am taking note, so that I know what to try once I have time.

All my deepest & sincerest gratitude & love to the entire sims community, for keeping The Sims 3 going--this year was the 14th anniversary! Here's to 14 more! 🥳 Happy Simming!

#simblr #sims 3 mods #sims 3 content list #the sims 3 #sims 3 medieval #sims 3 fantasy #sims 3 supernatural #EA you suck

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sscieloz · 7 months ago

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Heartbeat

Shin Ryujin x reader

Synopsis: you’ve promised to take your best friend to an awaited party, located in a nearby city. Ryujin catches your eye, and you fall right into her web of plans, with the promise of having a good time once and for all.

Warnings: mentions of gangs, guns and drugs. smut. blood. violence. nsfw.

Word count: 13.8k

Notes: i thought abt this after watching ryujin’s solo mv! it was so good <3. this was a fairly new topic for me to write about, so I apologize if it’s poorly written or unrealistic. nevertheless, I had lots of fun writing it ˆˆ. english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

You don’t mind helping out your parents by working at the family’s Diner: there usually weren’t many customers, and days went by slowly without you being bothered.

“Hey, Y/n. Can I grab another soda?” Your best friend asks, brushing her hands in front of your face to get your attention. Facing you from the other side of the diner’s endless counter, Chaeryeong looks like a hyper child, standing up from her seat to take a look at the soda machine, placed behind your frame.

You roll your eyes at her, simply grabbing the large cup she hands you and filling it up with Coke Zero, this time. “Here.”

“Awn, man, come on!” She protests, grunting. Lets her head fall back. “Coke Zero tastes like shit, Y/n! Give me something tasty, damn.” Chaeryeong turns to the few other customers, gesticulating, “What does a girl have to do to get the good stuff around here? Stop with the misery!”

She has her finger pointed at you, to which you giggle. You’ve known Chaery since your diaper days, with her living in the house in front of yours, and the two of you have been best friends ever since. Her careless, playful nature provides a nice balance to your calm, responsible one. You love her to pieces, which means you are always taking care of the dark-haired girl, in many ways.

“You’ve reached your daily quota of sugar.” You don’t even look at her as you answer, busy giving an elder woman her exchange in cash. “And don’t make those faces. I might as well just give you water, from now on.” Smiling at the customer, you ignore your friend. “Thank you, ma’am! Have a pleasant day.” Chaeryeong gulps, knowing fully well you mean your words.

She keeps her thoughts to herself, mumbling something incoherent while the loud slurps of the iced drink can be heard. Still not paying her much attention, you lean your elbows on the counter marble, sighing tiredly. Even though it was only an hour past noon, you could feel the heaviness in your eyes, the tiredness getting to you. Not having any orders, you allow yourself a few moments of rest, closing your eyes and resting your head on your hands. Just some seconds of peace, you decide.

The bell chime’s noise announces the end of your calm state of mind. In a blink, your sister is placing a medium-sized box on the counter, her usual smile directed at you. You know better than to trust her angelic looks, though — behind her rose gold hair and delicate features, Rosé is nothing but a devious manipulator.

However, she’s still your older sister, and you love her to pieces. It’s the only reason you don’t ignore her, crossing your arms and waiting for her to speak up, instead. She pushes the box towards you, smiling sneakily.

“Good morning, baby sister.” Rosé greets you. As usual, she never goes straight to the point.

You narrow your eyes at her. “It’s past noon, Rosé.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She brushes you off, winking at Chaeryeong to say hello. The girl nearly drowns in her coke, coughing violently.

Chaeryeong has had a massive crush on your sister ever since she was fourteen. Fortunately for you, Rosé has never seen her as anything apart from a little sister too, like yourself. Although the not so subtle rejection has never stopped Chaery from freaking out whenever Rosé addressed or acknowledged her.

“Good morning to you too, Rosie unnie.” She says, after finally gathering her breath. You huff, muttering about how biased she was and being promptly ignored by both girls. The package catches Chaery’s attention, ever so curious, and she pokes it with her bony fingers. “And what’s that about?”

Rosé pulls the package towards you, shrinking her shoulders down a little. For some, she might seem hesitant, but you know her too well to be aware that her movements are anything short of calculated.

“Could you deliver this for me?” She asks —tone dripping with sweetness. It always is, whenever she wants something from you. This is no different. “They asked for the pieces pretty urgently, and I’ll be off to deliver another package in a nearby city in a few minutes.”

Apart from the Diner, your father also owned a mechanical workshop, and would often sell and deliver car pieces to his clients. Rosé, being her outgoing self, dealt with them and the business part of it while you preferred to step aside, helping with the Diner instead. It was only when she had too much work to do that you had to deal with her customers, instead —and those were never pleasant experiences.

Perhaps you were just not cut for the job, or your calm aura was easy to be taken advantage of, but it was a matter of fact: you sucked at negotiating deals and making small talk. It made you uncomfortable and anxious, having to put up a superior act and bargain with assholes until you got enough profit to go home satisfied, so you avoided it vigorously.

Unfortunately, Rosé never hesitated to ask for a hand.

You eye the box suspiciously, trying to figure out the content inside without having to touch it. Even though it seems heavy, you can never truly trust appearances. After all, car pieces are not the only thing they sell at your father’s shop.

“I mean… I could.” You smirk back at Rosé, your identical smiles mirroring one another. “But I don’t want to.”

Before you even register, Rosé smacks you on the head. You’ve never been able to buck from her quick hands anyway.

“Hey!” You massage your scalp, moving your upper body forward to give Chaeryeong a push, too, since the action has her laughing loudly. “Bitch.”

Rosé giggles, too, standing on her tiptoes to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“Pretty please, Y/nnie.” She sighs, joining her hands in a prayer. “I’ll owe you one. I’ll even give you that dress of mine you love, promise.”

Chaeryeong gives you a thumbs up, biased as she’s always been.

“Come on, Y/n, let’s just do it. It’ll be fun! It’s too monotonous to be at the Diner all day, anyway.”

“See?” Rosé gestures to your best friend, pleased to be supported. “Chaery, you’re so sweet.” Your sister pinches her nose, and Chaeryeong’s face turns as red as a strawberry in a matter of seconds. She turns to you once again, then, still faking that hesitation. “Please? It’d be an outstanding deal for us. Lots of profit and all.”

You roll your eyes, still not convinced. Even though Chaery’s eyes are nearly popping off her face with how intensely she’s glaring, you refuse to give in. Rosé was stubborn, but you share the same blood, after all.

“Aren’t any of your friends available? I can’t just close the Diner and go.” Lies. You simply refuse to bulge, to relent to Rosé’s wishes as you always did.

She doesn’t even blink, though, unbothered by your lack of cooperation.

“Lisa, Jisoo, and Jennie are all busy with other work deals too, as well as the boys.” She shrugs, going around the counter to grab a beer for herself. “Trust me, Y/n: if I had anyone to go deliver this, I would… but you know how busy these past weeks have been, and we’re all so overworked. Help me out, please?” She touches the cross hanging on her chest, identical to the one you never took off.

A symbol of your bond.

You sigh, jumping off the balcony and giving in to Rosé’s orders for the nth time. “Fine.” You mumble, grumpy. “Chaeryeong can take care of the place while I go.”

“What the fuck, Y/n!” The girl jumps from her seat, suddenly interested in the conversation as if she hadn’t spent the last five minutes scrolling on her phone, all bored. Suddenly, she’s all ears, eagerly advocating for herself, “I don’t want to do the boring stuff! Let me go with you.”

Before you’re able to tell your friend to get fucked, Rosé stops you with her hands, signaling for someone to come in.

“It’s good for you to not go alone, baby sis. Chaery can make you company.” She nods, grabbing the young girl who came in by the shoulders and positioning her in front of you and Chaeryeong. “This is Rami. She’s Mingyu’s little sister, remember? She said she could handle the diner for a few hours while the two of you are at it. Such a sweetheart, is she not?”

The girl — Rami, nods energetically, looking at your sister with adoration in her glittery eyes. It was no surprise Rosé had brought one of her little fangirls to help, actually. Living in a small city for all your life, everyone knew Rosé. She’s been a notable presence since her teenage years, whether it was attending fancy balls or setting fire to the shops downtown. The blonde girl has been remarkable for as long as you can remember. She’s always been either feared, hated, or loved, but remarkable nonetheless.

Which only proved your theory that you were not going to deliver any car pieces, after all.

You and Chaery exchanged a knowing look, neither caring enough to ask anything about this girl or explain the job she’d have to take at the Diner for free.

“Very well, then.” You sigh, watching Rosé’s excited clapping and giggling. “I’ll grab my car keys.”

Chaeryeong follows you closely, also jumping of joy. You’re well aware she hates being at the Diner, always complaining of boredom, but it isn’t like she has any other friends to go out with. Behind her bubbly, chatty, and energetic personality, she’s is actually very frail and shy, which makes her an easy target for the mean fuckers your age. She struggles, and would much rather just have a single, loyal friend. And you’ve always made sure to protect her fiercely.

“Adventure!! Finally.” The dark-haired girl raises her hands, thanking God you’d go out.

“Don’t get too excited.” You warn her, turning to Rosé. Pointing a finger at the rosy-haired woman, you add. “I hate you.”

She pulls you in for a suffocating hug, used to your harsh behavior. “And I love you so, little sis. Thank you!”

Both Rami and her wave as you and Chaeryeong leave the diner, the package weighing heavily in your hands. You don’t have a big 6th sense, but something does not feel right. Although you ignore it anyway, turning the car on and driving to the address your sister texted you.

“Do we really have to do this?” She whines, closing the passenger’s door rather roughly — to which you grunt, paying her a harsh stare for not being careful with your precious car.

She realized the whole thing would be anything but fun sometime mid the 40-minute journey to the abandoned warehouse you were currently walking into. Besides, once you reminded her that Rosé’s request would put off her wishes of going out and partying for a few hours, that little pout of hers hasn’t left her lips. Now, Chaeryeong is all regretful to have supported the older girl in her wishes.

“Not really.” You pay your friend no mind, walking towards the place that was falling into pieces. Seeing you weren’t backing her up, her pout deepened.

“It’s my birthday.” She argues, kicking rocks along the way.

“I already bought you a cake. And milkshake, and fries.” You roll your eyes, remembering how you’d all chanted your best friend happy birthday at your parents’ Diner, during breakfast. “And a shit ton of booze, throughout all these years of knowing you. You haven’t paid me back once.”

Chaeryeong sighs, hurrying to your side, defeated. You keep walking without waiting for her, making it harder for her to catch up — truly opposites, the two of you.

“Fine. But let’s do this quickly. You promised we’d still go to that party.” She decides, playfully bumping into you. Any other time, her actions would’ve helped you to be at ease, but you’re unable to relax this time. You know this is some serious shit.

“Yeah, let’s do this quick.” You repeat her words, entering the abandoned place at a slow, nearly languid pace.

Let you both be out of here in no time. You wish, once again sensing the bad omens.

The warehouse, although old, mistreated and nearly falling into pieces, is not unsettling to you. It’s merely the place Rosé sometimes treats business, and you’ve accompanied her once or twice, before. The wooden beams are rotten, and the flooring has long disappeared, fading into dust that clings to your combat boots. You’d have to clean them later, and that somehow annoys you more than the situation itself. The place is empty, with walls that were once covered by big, expensive windows, yet all that remains are tainted, broken glasses hanging wherever you could look. Machines are still forgotten in random locations inside the building, a ghost of times when the government tried to rebuild the massive area. None of that was successful, obviously. Now, this ghost of a place belongs to your father, your sister, and the other people who were also part of the darker side of this shitty town.

Only a single table hangs in the open area of the first floor, clearly meant for dealerships and businesses. Upon arriving, you notice 5 — no, nearly 10 people waiting not so patiently. Wearing dark, shabby clothes, none of them seem welcoming, to say the least. Rosé had told you’d be doing business with Wendy, a familiar customer from another small town nearby, in hopes to ease down on your nerves. It worked, in a way: having met with Wendy a few times prior, you weren’t all nervous about the upcoming meeting. She was intimidating and oh, so pretty, but you got along well with the auburn-haired woman and her business partners, from previous experiences such as charity dinners and dealerships alongside your sister’s presence.

The woman that stands in front of you, however, looks nothing like Wendy. You know her, naturally; it was impossible not to. Jinsoul’s troublemaker fame was much different than your sister’s — while Rosé’s actions, even though batshit crazy at times, are dreadfully calculated, Jinsoul’s insanity comes with the sole purpose of enticing chaos. Her unstable nature is much of a pain, you’ve personally experienced so from watching herself prove her influence on a crowd by torturing some poor girl who accidentally spilled champagne in her dress at a ceremony, or setting fire to a man’s car at one of the car rifts you often attend. Out of all the girls from her gang, Jinsoul is the least pleasant one to set off deals with.

Naturally, Rosé and Jinsoul hate each other with a passion, being two different flames of the same fire.

With all of that knowledge, you fix your posture, observing Chaeryeong do the same with your peripheral vision. Even though you absolutely despise it, you’ve been taught well how to keep a powerful, imposing façade. Standing tall, you tower over Jinsoul and her subordinates.

“I see Rosé sent her little minion, instead of herself. Must be really busy, of course.” Jinsoul doesn’t greet you, as expected. Her tone is dripping with venom as she examines you and your best friend with harsh eyes.

Now that you’re in front of her, you’re no longer hesitant or scared. Instead, you’re bothered, irritated that you have to deal with your sister’s cheap copy instead of Wendy or Joohyun. Taking a step towards the young woman, you curse Rosé under your breath, fully aware the eventful encounter is not a misunderstanding.

“Nice hair. I love the new color.” You say, leaning your head with a knowing look. Jinsoul’s hair falls a little past her shoulders, in a strawberry-blonde tone that is exactly like Rosé’s past one, from a few months prior. “I’ll tell Rosé her oldest, most faithful fan sends her regards.”

Your words seem to stir something inside the leader in front of you. She scoffs, gritting her teeth. “This is too tedious. Give me the shipment we agreed on, I’ve got better things to do anyway.”

Rolling your eyes, you gesture for Chaeryeong to drop the box on the ground. She does as told, the metallic sounds of the guns moving inside. It echoes in the empty place, as the box falls onto the ground.

Jinsoul remains stoic, hands resting neatly inside her pockets, while her guards reach out for the box. Before they can touch it, though, you step on it, preventing anyone from moving.

“Give us the money first, Jinsoul. No funny business.” You stare right into her eyes, remembering the times you’ve caught her fooling around in her deals, leaving other people empty-handed. “Then you can check as much as you want.”

She laughs, knowing you’re no fool. “I see you’ve gotten wiser, Y/n. Well done.”

In a second, she’s handing you another small, compacted package. You take the money with your delicate hands, not in the least made to deal with such dirty stuff. You count it, already feeling the blood in your veins boil. Chaeryeong breaths are heavy beside you as you say. “This is not what we agreed on, Jinsoul. Stop being a whore for once and give me the other half of the fucking money.”

You and Chaery don’t need words to understand each other. She grabs the box back from the ground as soon as she sees you go rigid, holding on to it with the same look of disdain you bear.

“Oh, my dear.” Jinsoul stands close enough to grab a strand of your long fringe, knuckles brushing your jawline with feigned affection. “Your sister should know I am only faithful to the people I treat business with… and I didn’t discuss anything with you, precious.”

Turning your face, you hold Chaeryeong with one arm to prevent her from jumping on Jinsoul and beating her up.

“You bitch!” Your friend screams at her face, her voice muffled by Jinsoul’s hectic laughter as she walks away, back turned to you and Chaery in a clear show of disrespect.

Before you can go to Jinsoul yourself, her guards strike, going straight to the two of you. You manage to buckle and give them a few punches — causing a fair amount of trouble for someone who didn’t practice often at all, honestly. However, you were outnumbered, and soon enough you find yourself on the ground, punched and disheveled.

Coughing violently, you turn to see one of them kicking Chaeryeong in the guts, a few meters from you. The sight of your friend, cheerful and pure Chaery, being hurt enrages you to the core. You spit at their feet to gather all the attention to yourself.

“Don’t touch her, fucker!” You scream, breathless. They pay you no mind, having the time of their lives.

You feel something on your jacket, then. When you look ahead, Jinsoul has poured a thick, horizontal line of a viscous liquid through all of the massive warehouse. Other guards help, with gallons, but you know most of it is her doing — she loves to get her hands dirty in the business. There’s fire in her eyes, and by the time she lifts the lighter dramatically, you’re already well aware.

Gasoline.

“Goodbye, dearests! It’s always a pleasure doing business with you.” She chants, before throwing the lighter and walking away, without any rush.

You have to use both hands to stand on your fours, then on your knees. Your jacket is long thrown elsewhere as you grab Chaeryeong by back of her neck, much like a kitten. “Let’s go, and quick. Are you badly hurt?” You murmur, looking for any bad bruises on her porcelain skin. The girl shakes her head, running her hand through her bloody nose. She whimpers, and you know she’s trying her best to be strong in front of you. You give her a hug, as well as a kiss on her dirty cheek, in hopes of bringing her a little comfort. “Good. Now come.”

You hated — no, you despised Rosé for always deceiving you. Only this time, she’d pay.

Leaning on each other, the two of you go back to where you’d parked your car, in a hidden area a few minutes away from the warehouse, just as you’ve been taught to do. You take a deep breath, appreciating the humidity and the nature that ruled the place, a forgotten piece of the city. It had rained while you were inside, and you were glad for that. You loved the smell of rain, especially in nature.

On your way to the car, you spot a water tap nearby. You take Chaeryeong’s arms from your shoulders, then, opening the tap and turning to her. “Clean yourself up.”

“You’re so bossy.” She mumbles, but is quick to do as told, grabbing a hold of the water and splashing it on her face, cleaning up the dust that gathered. Chaeryeong nearly drenches her whole head, too — her pitch-black hair all shiny within minutes as the color slowly returns to her face.

While she takes the dirt off her arms and legs, you look around to check on the fire. It is still lively, a bright beacon as the night falls by, but you know it won’t spread. The place was all rotten by rust, with barely any ceiling left, so the rain would most likely put it off.

Still, Jinsoul’s message was clear, and it stung on your pride.

At least she’s always been like that, never presenting herself differently. Much different from your sister, who tells lies for breakfast.

Your mind is still clouded by troubled thoughts when Chaeryeong lets out a tired laugh, smiling once you kneel to clean up yourself. “They beat up our asses hard out there, you know.”

As much as her statement annoys the shit out of you, you’re grateful to have her cracking jokes again. Your best friend’s delicate features suit the red color on her mouth, a sign she’s well and ready for the next one.

You feel the dust gathering under your fingers and all over your skin. It’s all over you, so intensely your honey hair can be misguided as black, with how much of it is covered by dirt.

“I’ve barely noticed.”

Chaeryeong chokes in her saliva to keep herself from laughing, knowing your patience’s running thin. Even if you have the softest spot for her, she decides not to push it.

“Yes, obviously.” She nods. You think she’s finally going to be quiet, but it’s your best friend you’re talking about. Naturally, she continues. “Let’s go to the party, please?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you finish washing up, feeling refreshed and no longer too bothered. “Yes.”

You both arrive where the car is parked before she adds. “And we need fighting lessons once we get back home.”

“Chaeryeong.”

“It’s true, sorry! It is.” She raises her hands as if to keep herself from being attacked by your rage.

You limit yourself to giving her a harsh stare, and she shivers under it. You can be quite intimidating when you wish to be, especially since you’re not exactly a chatterbox.

Turning the car on, you indulge your friend’s wishes as you drive towards the party she’s been nagging you about for the whole week.

The night’s already taken over the sky once you park on the crowded street, after hours of speeding on the free road. As you hop out of the car, your thoughts go to your sister: you know the meeting with Jinsoul had been arranged all along, with her words about Wendy being merely for you to agree on doing as told. How could she fool you like that? As if you were nothing more than another dischargeable person, like many of her toys.

It’s not the first time Rosé has sent you and Chaeryeong to some skimpy situation, but knowing she was well aware of it being a clear trap all along leaves you absolutely outraged.

Even though she knew of the risks, she still sent you. You would’ve never gone, had you known it was a situation like that, and that’s the reason she didn’t warn you beforehand.

You hated Rosé’s guts.

Chaery rushes to your side once again, side-eyeing you with as little discreetness as possible — unlike yourself, she’s never been good at hiding her expressions. You don’t even attempt to smile, still mad about your earlier encounter and all that went wrong.

Not even your bubbly, cheerful best friend can lift your spirits, at the moment.

“Don’t tell me you’re still pissed, Y/n.” She shakes her arms, sighing. Her tone is serious, and you know she means it. “Come on! Live your life, and stop being so strict all the time. You deserve to have fun.” Chaery grabs you by the shoulders, lifting your chin so you’ll stare at her. “So have fun! I know it fucking sucks, but it’s done! Let’s just enjoy the night and deal with the whole problem tomorrow morning.”

You roll your eyes, knowing she’d never comprehend your feelings. As much as you love how carefree she is, you also know your personalities are too different.

You allow her to interlock your hand with hers, though, as the two of you pass the sea of cars in the direction of the crowded mansion.

“You could use a little fire within yourself too, you know.” You murmur, examining the place with harsh eyes.

The front garden alone is already impressive. Its deep green lawn is impeccable — clearly trimmed and well cared for, aligning with the lavish fountain that stands in the center and all the animals sculpted in the bushes. A cupid stands in the middle of the marble fountain, water flowing smoothly from its carved bow. You recognize the modern styling of the mansion, with plenty of massive windows that cover both floors of the house. With its wooden walls, the place has a rustic yet cozy surface. There is no doubt whoever owns such property has a great sense of style.

Even that front area is crowded, too. People nearly having public sex, others throwing up vigorously while being helped by friends, a few others just passed out on the lawn… although you’re surprised to see many groups simply drinking and chilling, leaning on their cars, too — most likely seeking an escape from the vivid music and the heat wave that must be inside. You already feel the energetic music echoing through the whole atmosphere, the rhythm reverberating through the walls and on the ground. You bite your cheek to suppress a smile, not wanting your friend to notice yet. To you, there was something appealing about attending such crowded spaces. Amidst the sea of people, you were no one: known by no one, cared for by no one. It was strangely comforting, as if a weight was going off your shoulders, and you liked it.

Interrupting your thoughts, Chaeryeong shrugs, “I mean, it’s Rosé we’re talking about. Did you seriously not expect the deal to be suspicious, to say the very least?” She sighs hard, adding. “That lying, dreadful hot bitch. I’d go to as many sneaky warehouses as she commands me to, sorry, Y/n.”

Her tone is truthful enough to have you shaking your shoulders in laughter, squeezing her hand to make her stop walking through people so fast. As a matter of fact, Chaery’s fat crush on your sister isn’t by any means new to you — going on for many years already, but it always surprises you to hear her say stuff like that.

You find it hilarious, actually, that Chaeryeong is, to this day, one of your sister’s fangirls.

“I seriously can’t believe you sometimes.” You say, although youthful spirits have been lifted. Your best friend smiles brightly at you, her button nose scrunching adorably.

“You just love me so much.”

You leave her at that, and stand by the door, making your way to the main, open area — the living room. Chaeryeong is smart and attentive, which also helps to access the whole place rather quickly. Soon enough, both of you have some kind of fancy drink in hands, and you stare at the dark-haired girl rather hesitantly.

Her bright humor and the room’s energy, bustling with excitement are enough to have you feeling much better, even a little happy yourself. Still sensing your hesitation, she brings the cup to your mouth with her small hands, both of you downing your drinks within seconds.

“Okay,” She says, looking around for anything interesting. “Now the real fun begins.”

You laugh, knowing she’s going to find some source of entertainment for the night — whether it is a pretty girl to lose herself in or a newly discovered gossip to watch and comment over like a TV series.

Chaeryeong disappears and comes back with another fancy-looking drink, stumbling and nearly falling in the process, and you quickly grab the one she hands to you, taking a small sip this time. She’s already had a handful of hers and stares at your choice of savoring the liquid with playful eyes.

“What? I would rather not pass out. That’s your role.”

“You never forget, do you? It was once, Y/n. Once. And forever ago, too! I’ve never done that again.” She huffs, bringing her free hand to her chest in a fake display of resentment.

You giggle as you hug her sideways, shutting off the older girl’s whines. She quickly steps aside, though — not wanting people to think she’s not seeking some fun, and you take the opportunity to look around, observing the inside of the mansion properly.

It’s a beautiful house — a mansion, indeed — and the first floor is nothing but lavish. The bar, where you and Chaeryeong stand, is nearly the size of the one at the Diner, filled with expensive drinks and crystal cups as the bartender — not at all like the junk places the two of you usually attend— mixes drinks with experience.

It also pleases you to see how such a person is not afraid of spending money to host a good party, even if the people enjoying it are complete strangers. The lively atmosphere of young people having fun, mixed with the grand decor of the place balanced each other well, giving a lived-in aspect to said gorgeous place.

The open area has plenty of windows, allowing you to watch the gardens and the pool, outside — even though it’s massive, there’s barely any space left in between the waters, making you gulp with disgust. It was hard for you to understand how that many people would muster the courage to get in, with so many germs and fluids certainly dirtying the once crystal-clear waters.

Looking back inside, you’re able to observe the planned furniture, which is clearly well thought out, with the wooden ceiling and the thick, marble columns. There are rugs lacking, you notice, but it is surely so they don’t stain or anything.

You wonder what the place is like during a quiet, common day. One where the only noises come from the birds, chipping and singing while flying through the trees, and the running water that drips on the pool fountain.

Besides that, it is absolutely crowded. Nearly every single space is occupied by either a couple kissing like there’s no tomorrow or people screaming and dancing, yet everyone seems to be having a nice time. The atmosphere makes you smile, surprisingly cozy on this chaotic yet lively night. That’s how you feel, specially after the prior encounters: alive.

You have to make that feeling worth it.

Time goes by fast once you’re trying to have fun.

You quickly learn so, as you drink, smoke, and dance with Chaeryeong. Even with the alcohol leaving you happy, you’re still uneasy. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being observed, no matter how many times you tell yourself that’s absolutely insane — there are people in every possible corner of the place, and no one’s paying attention to you.

However, Chaery also seems to be opposed to the logical part of your brain.

“I think you should go for it,” Your best friend tells you, after long minutes of heavily flirting with a barbie-like girl from afar.

You’re nearly sure you know that girl, actually. She’s from your hometown, most likely; her heart-shaped mouth and cherubic features are impossible to miss.

There’s nothing more like Chaery than going to a party located 2 hours away just to fuck around with the same people you’ve known since elementary school.

Your best friend turns around, filling up both of your drinks, even though yours is only halfway empty.

You frown. “Go for what?”

It’s Chaeryeong’s turn to be annoyed at you. She throws her free arm on your shoulders, gesturing to the middle of the living room area, where four good-looking girls stand with critical looks, acting like they own the place.

Which, judging by their style and the way they carry themselves, they might as well do.

Chaeryeong points in their direction with her head, never in her life subtle. “The one in the middle has not stopped staring at you ever since we’ve arrived. Ryujin, they say it’s her name.” Your friend’s excited tone grabs your attention, and you finally take a look at the small group she’s so enamored by. “I think you should go get her.”

Your friend has always had a good taste in women, and this time’s no different. They are beautiful, crushingly so, all hanging out by the long couch, circled by many people who seem to fight for an ounce of their attention. They stay disinterested, though, not paying them as much as a quick look.

One has sharp eyes, listening attentively to what a jumpy redhead and a blonde girl have to say as she sips on her Marguerita. At last, you observe the raven-haired girl Chaeryeong mentioned: she stands powerful in the middle, her sharp features giving her an intimidating look. To your surprise, she’s already staring— her dark eyes examining you with such hunger your heart starts beating rapidly as if there were no one else in the room. Electric shocks fly through your body upon her piercing gaze, and you look away immediately.

“She’s creepy.” You take a long gulp of your drink, in hopes of washing away the urge of sneaking her a glance once again.

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, nudging you. “Just how you like them.” She scoffs, then, when she realizes you won’t answer — not in the mood to indulge her little monologues. “Please, Y/n, for once in your life just—“

You interrupt your friend, taking a step back and giving her a fake smile. “I need to use the bathroom, but I’ll catch up with you soon, Chaery.” Getting away from her as fast as you can in such a crowded space, you’re still able to hear her voice as you ascend the grand staircase, screaming while raising her cup in your direction to prove her point.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE ME, Y/N! IF YOU TAKE TOO LONG, I’LL COME AND GET YOU.” You can’t help but laugh, fully knowing she means it.

Even though you escape her lecture — hearing that same discourse at least once a day ever since you can remember, you know Chaeryeong means well. It’s a matter of fact: you’ve always been the responsible one, caring and supervising others, to the point people always referred to you as “lame” or “boring”. Whether it was at the Diner, with your reckless family, or dealing with your friend’s spontaneousness, you’re unable to help it: being careful comes naturally to you, always thinking about countless opportunities for every situation possible.

Before opening many doors — the place was indeed massive, leaving you to wonder how many rooms there are — you finally find a bathroom. Without rushing, you take a deep breath, washing your face in hopes of easing your mind, too.

For the first time in many hours, you have time to truly think about the events of the day. Weariness infiltrates your bones as you grip both sides of the sink, not daring to look at yourself in the mirror. Looking at your face, your features, means staring at your sister, too. At your father, the whole dirty business you do for a living and how you’re also to blame, no matter how much you avoid taking part in it. You belong in this world, there’s no denying it.

Only you so wish you weren’t.

Sitting on the toilet, you hug your knees, waiting for the tears to come. They never do; you only feel an emptiness inside your tainted soul. Somehow, you’ve already gotten used to this entire mess. Crying and pitying yourself won’t change anything.

The door opens, and Ryujin is standing in front of you before you can make yourself look presentable. She’s as intimidating as she was from afar, her thick boots making her look taller.

“Sorry for taking so long, I needed a moment. I’ll go now.” You get up quickly, trying to brush past her as you murmur excuses for keeping the bathroom all to yourself, even though she doesn’t seem to mind.

With a hand brushing your waist, she says, tone low and husked. “It’s ok. I can take you to somewhere quieter if you’d like.” Her posture is relaxed and patient, waiting for you to answer. “Listening to loud music for too long can be a bother.”

You don’t exactly know why you agree; perhaps it’s her voice, soothing and sensual — even though you somehow know her invite is not one seeking sex, or her dark eyes, staring at you like she could undress your soul and be aware of your deepest secrets. Regardless of the motives, you feel drawn to her, almost as if she’d cast a spell on you, luring you in. So you nod, allowing yourself to enter the labyrinth of corridors as Ryujin walks by your side, without rushing. Only when the two of you stop by a black, wooden door, she turns back to you. You step inside, as the world behind you suddenly turns quiet.

You’re fully aware of the risks you’re taking. She’s a stranger, and you know nothing about each other. You should be jumpy, wary in the least.

Instead, for the first time in many years, there’s not a train of thoughts running through your head, thinking about millions of possibilities and outcomes of every little thing you’ve ever witnessed.

As you walk into the middle of the spacious room, you feel nothing but calm.

Ryujin has good taste.

You’re not stupid: you know the bedroom you’re currently in belongs to her. The walls are made of wood, carved in light brown, and most of the furniture is black, a true portrait of how she presents herself — all dark and mysterious. Her bed stands appealing in the middle, the covers undone and inviting, while numerous papers rest neatly on her desk, but it’s the content on the wall that catches your attention. A map of the country, covered with red strings and pins linking numerous places. There are names written, too, as well as keywords and small texts.

“I’m a good listener. If you’d like to, naturally.” She takes a blunt out of her pocket, gesturing to you. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” You give her a small smile in acknowledgment. “It’s your room, anyway.”

She laughs. “Smart girl.”

“I’ll pass on your invitation to listen, though.” You continue as you stare at her closely, curious about how she’d react. Her blazer made her shirt ride up, revealing part of her toned abdomen, and you can’t help but ogle, mouth dry at the sight.

God, she’s so hot, sitting casually like that.“As you wish. No problem.” Ryujin doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, which provides you with enough confidence to start looking around again.

A black wooden bookshelf catches your attention, standing on the opposite side of the windows and the balcony, and you’re appalled by how vast it is. It nearly occupies the entire wall, with numerous books. It’s the only part of the room that has any color besides black, brown, or white, and the books all seem pretty worn out. You brush your fingers through the shelves, lost in paradise.

“Do you expect us to fuck?” You don’t turn to face her as you ask, without shame. Strangely, you feel like you could tell her whatever you wanted to.

She shrugs, adjusting her pillows so she’d lie comfortably, looking rather small in the massive bed. The words leave her mouth so casually like nothing was ever complicated. “If you'd like to, maybe.” Her eyes travel to your body, and you shiver, once again feeling exposed. “You’re pretty. You have a beautiful body, too. So, sure.”

“Why did you bring me here, then? If not to fuck.” You murmur, eyeing her as your fingers brush a specific book, waiting for her permission.

You take it from its place once she nods, freeing the smoke from her lungs. The Waves, highlighted and annotated.

“You looked as if you had many thoughts going on in your head.” She runs her hand through her shiny, pitch-black hair, casually. “This is my quiet place. I figured you could use a little peace for a while, too.”

She was so right. From the time you entered her room, you felt nothing but peace, as if your emotional turmoil had cooled down for a few moments.

Maybe it was the calming energy Ryujin emanates or the way she looks at you so curiously. Anyway, you decide she’s worth it.

You were not exactly fond of meeting new people, much less welcoming them into your life. You didn’t feel the need to add anyone — you could barely keep up with the amount of drama you had, with not that many people. You have a best friend, a father, a stepmother, grandparents, a sister, and her friends who were your acquaintances. Not a massive crowd, but just enough for you.

However, you feel the need to let this girl in, too.

Jumping on the bed, you don’t stop until you’re near enough to feel the warmth of the blunt Ryujin holds. You lean on your elbows, facing down whilst she’s facing up, hands behind her head to support herself as she stares at the ceiling.

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you.” You say, determined not to feel threatened by her piercing gaze and those midnight eyes that carry such mystery.

Ryujin laughs, shaking the hand you offer. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. I’m Ryujin.”

She stares back, her eyes undressing you as if she’s the keeper of all your secrets. You look away. She laughs again.

Your mind wanders to Chaeryeong’s words, always eager to talk about how you should take more risks and live freely. Perhaps she’s right; you should stop worrying too much and overthinking every single thing.

You snuggle yourself even closer to Ryujin, still deciding. “But are you good?”

She frowns, turning to you. “Probably. But good at what, exactly?”

“In bed, obviously.” You roll your eyes. “Are you a good fuck?”

Being so close to her allows you to see the switch your words provoke. Her eyes darken, and she fixes her posture, no longer carefree and unbothered. No… the girl whose eyes roam over your body is far from inviting or calming. She’s powerful, just as you watched her present herself downstairs, earlier at night. With strong hands, she grabs one of your thighs, bringing you so close you’re able to play with the collar of her silk shirt.

“Why do you ask, Y/n?” Ryunjin’s hands brush your neck in a careful motion, tucking your hair away so she’s able to run her nose through your skin. One look at her, and you know she enjoys toying with you like that too much.

As she must do with anyone, you suppose.

“Well…” You look down, although still leaning at her touch. “‘Cause I want you to fuck me, of course. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be asking.”

She doesn’t mind your impatient tone but doesn’t touch you either, even after your words. If anything, she just keeps staring at your body, as if imagining all the things she’d do.

“And how would I do that, exactly?” You roll your eyes, ready to give her a defiant answer when she grabs you by the chin, ever so gently. “Make sure to be clear with your words, my angel.”

And it’s that tone once again — so low-pitched and raspy, that makes you gulp, barely breathing under the enchanting, mysterious girl’s touches. Besides being in control at all times: when you’ve decided to accompany Ryujin to her bedroom, when initiating this battle of desire… you finally come to realize how different it is, this once. This time, Ryujin’s question presents itself as a warning, its meaning loud and clear even though it was unsaid. If you agreed to this, she would be the one in control. She’d take as much as she pleased, however, you wished her to do.

Something that is so appealing to you. Not because you feel the need to let go; no, you’ve done much of that throughout all of your life — being your family’s pawn, toy, and little doll to show off to other powerful families, making a profit over the image of perfection.

No, Ryujin’s offer is appealing simply because you’re curious to see what she’d do to you. You feel drawn to her, with a sudden urge to be under her touch, to have her inside of you.

You want her to do the most unspeakable, filthy things to your body, bringing you enough pleasure to fuck you dumb, until all of your worries are washed away and long gone.

Her. You want her.

So you stand on your knees, taking your time with unclasping your bra and throwing your shirt off the ground, long hair flowing gracefully as you move, cascading down your hips. It’s only once you’re done that you speak, long after letting her watch as you make a show out of the small act.

“I want you to pleasure me.” You say, with a voice just as lustrous as hers. “I’m sure you’ve been spoiled enough in sex. Prove it to me, then. And if you’re good enough, maybe I’ll satisfy you, too.”

She smiles, exposing her canine teeth as she watches you crawl to her. Within seconds, you’re between her legs, her mouth hot and wet on your clavicle — then wasting no time to go to your breasts, as she kisses and sucks on your skin. Making sure to bruise, to mark her presence. Territorial.

“Your wish is my command, angel of mine.” She murmurs, breath warm on your skin.

Ryujin’s taste is bitter, much like poison. Still, her lips are addicting, and it’s easy to lose yourself in between the sultry kisses you share. Your skin, your insides — you’re on fire, so turned on it burns.

Her hands, skilled and lithe, wander through your body, squeezing and groping as she pleases. Such a tease, she is. You can easily tell how delighted she is to be able to take her time, caressing the insides of your thighs as you huff, impatient. She’s so close, yet so far from where you need her. Your cunt aches, sticky and needy for something, anything.

Yearning for release after such a stressful day, you feel your body trembling with anticipation. Soon enough, you’re under her, both of your clothes long thrown on the ground. It’s hard not to blush with how she’s looking at your naked body, licking her lips as she spits, a long trail of saliva going from her fingers to your wet cunt.

You need more of her. Desperately.

Tugging her hair, you let out a loud whine. “You’re so mean, Ryujin.”

“I am.” Her answer comes immediately, as she lowers her body until her mouth is close to your pussy. She brushes the hair away from her face, eyes still heavily focused on your dripping cunt. Ryujin cups your ass, one of your legs resting on her shoulder as she brings your sex as close to her face as possible. Her eyes are starstruck, long-lost in your body as she parts your folds before giving your cunt a messy, wet kiss.

Her actions are more than enough to turn you into a withering mess: her mouth is everywhere, working her way inside of your walls with such vigor you feel so full, your troubled thoughts long forgotten. She works wonders, her tongue teasing your entrance and alternating between lapping on your clit, circling your hardened bud as you moan, squirming almost desperately. You’ve never been this sensible, yet Ryujin reverberates all of her actions through your body harder than usual — even the mere brush of her fingers has her holding your thighs firmly, to keep you from moving so much and closing your legs away.

Incoherent words leave your mouth so fast that you’d be ashamed if you were able to think about anything. Your long nails scratch her bare back in random patterns, leaving her skin so red you close your hands in a sudden wave of consciousness, shy as you bring them to your chest.

She stops too, ignoring your whines as she looks up to you with a serious face, her mouth swollen and glistening with your juices. “If you stop, I’ll stop.” She grabs your hands, placing them on her once again. It’s so sweet, somehow delicate how she handles you, much different from the way she acts with anyone else. “Don’t hold yourself back.”

You nod, gulping. She has two of her fingers aligned with your slit, spreading your juices through your pussy with that little smug smile of hers before easing them inside. They slide in easily, the gushing sounds filling the room along with your voice. “Ryujin… oh f-fuck!”

“Touch your nipples.” Ryujin commands, mouth closing against your clit once again. She licks and applies a weak suction, not yet enough to overstimulate you. You’re long gone, though, incapable of forming any thoughts on your pretty head, let alone following any commands. She knows it, which is the reason her hands grope your tits with strength, massaging. “You’re sensitive, angel. Touch them for me, will you?”

It seems to work, this time. You mumble a response to her patient tone, hands going straight to your nipples as you cup your breasts. They weren’t exactly big, but certainly not small either. If you squeezed them tightly — as you were currently, doing, you could fit them in your hands. Biting your lip, you flick your thumbs through the hardened buds, circling your areolas as your fingers twist and pinch your nipples.

The action sends a shock of electricity through your body, and you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Good girl, Y/n. God, your tits are so pretty. You look so pretty like this, doing so good for me.” You barely register her words, although it doesn’t seem necessary; if anything, Ryujin seems to be speaking to herself. She lifts her head, fingers thrusting in even deeper as she judges the bruises on your hips with hard eyes. Her voice is different, too, serious as she adds, “Must’ve been a tough day, hm? You’re all bruised, my love. And I haven’t given you any of these.”

“Something like that, I guess.” You murmur, closing your eyes to focus on how good she is making you feel.

She kisses each one of your bruises with delicacy, looking somehow annoyed. Her brows are furrowed, and her lips are pouty, making it easy to tell she’s lost in thought. Because of her reaction, you lift her chin, cocking your head to the sides as you try to figure her out. It seems to wake her up from her trance, instead. Ryujin takes your fingers and sucks, staring at you while her tongue wets your index and thumb just as she was doing to your pussy, moments prior.

This girl’s going to be the death of you.

Her attention returns to your cunt, swollen and red, as she fastens the thrusts on your slit. It hits deep, each movement bringing you closer to the orgasm you ache for. A third finger is added, then, and you feel yourself close to the edge. Ryujin must’ve felt your muscles clenching, too, since she’s quick to give your clit one last, deep suck.

It feels like there’s no air left in the room. The pleasure that was building up in your lower abdomen explodes, with violent waves of pleasure erupting and giving you the best sensation you’ve ever felt. It’s ecstatic, as if thousands of fireworks live in every little space of your body. You feel spectacular, but more than that, you feel alive. With a high cry, you cum, Ryujin’s fingers still working their way inside, helping you ride out from your orgasm. She’s careful to not touch your clit, just staring at your fucked out face as your chest moves rapidly, trying to even your breathing.

After a few minutes, you squirm, expecting her to distance herself and stop touching your cunt.

It’s not what happens, though — in a blink, she’s all over you, working her way up your body with wet kisses until your lips meet once again in a messy kiss.

“You’re relaxed now, right?” She says, sucking on your lower lip. “And you were so perfect, angel. It’s my turn. Can you give me one more? Do you think you can do it for me?”

Suddenly, you’re all hot again, as her fingers thrust into you deeper and deeper. You’re dizzy, more than happy to drink on her and let her drive you into pleasure as she says so.

“R-ryujin…” You chant her name, clinging to the girl.

It doesn’t take you long to cum, this time. The orgasm that drags through your body is strong but slow, leaving you full in more ways than you’ll ever be able to describe.

“So good.” She says, hands tight on your waist and caressing your abdomen, with no rush at all. “You’re doing so good, Y/n.”

Your cunt feels empty without her fingers inside, pussy swollen and pleased. Even though she’s right by your side, you miss her, reaching out for her touches. She’s more than eager to comply, holding you close as she kisses the top of your head, brushing the long strands of hair away from your face.

The two of you stay like that, wrapped up in a warm bubble that has you completely in peace. Your muscles relax, and you feel the tiredness in your bones, pleading for sleep. It’s easy to get lost in Ryujin’s arms, forgetting your duties and obligations until your mind is filled with her.

Just as quickly, you’re thrown back into reality by the doorknob — it’s forced from the outside, although the door doesn’t move, thankfully locked. It’s most likely someone drunk, searching for a place to have fun with someone, but the action is enough for you to remember the reason you’ve attended such a party: an energetic girl with dark hair and the worst sense of humor you’ve ever seen, who was probably worried sick about you and cursing your entire existence.

With that in mind, you get up, grabbing your dispersed clothes on the floor and putting them on. Ryujin’s stare is attentive, following your every move. She’s still comfortable in her bed, not bothering to cover herself as she reaches out for the blunt on her nightstand.

“You can stay, if you’d like.” Her voice has a special effect on you. It makes your body relax instantly, and you breathe in. “Enjoy the quietude. There’s no need to run away.”

“I’m not running away.” You frown, somehow bothered that she thinks so. Grunting, you clarify, “I’d like to… hum, continue this. But my friend’s been waiting for long now. She must be going crazy, thinking I’ve been kidnapped or something. I have to take care of her.”

“Why so?” There it is. That smirk, the air of superiority that adds to Ryujin’s strong façade. It’s almost as if she’s mocking you, playing with her words. “Is she a child? Or just so stupid she can’t take care of herself…”

Your face reddens, and you finish tying your shoes just as quickly as you turn to her, both hands gripping her bed frame so you’re able to jerk your body forward. “Chaeryeong’s not stupid. Watch your fucking mouth.”

People could say anything they wanted about you. In fact, they already did — ever since you were little and your mother had left, people judged and made assumptions about your life. It was impossible not to be a target, with a family like yours, handling the business that you do. It did hurt, at the beginning, but you’ve eventually figured it out: people talked about everyone, and you weren’t special. They were so miserable and uninteresting that they’d criticize every single little thing, no matter how invisible you tried to be. It’s just how they were.

However, any words directed at your best friend are enough for you to get into messy fights. No one was allowed to talk shit about her. Not cheerful, bright Chaeryeong, who had the biggest, cutest smile and the purest intentions in her heart. You’d never allow it.

Seeing how serious you were, Ryujin’s smile dropped. She tapped her blunt in the ashtray, careful to not let the dust spill. “You’re right, she’s not. I apologize.” Although she doesn’t look sorry at all. It’s as if everything is a big joke to her; which, with such a lavish house, you know it most likely is.

Rich people are always assholes.

Humming, you roll your eyes as you try to fix your hair, failing terribly. It’s still as wild as ever, stubbornly fighting your fingers when you run your hands through its entire length, in attempts of detangling something. The subject’s been brushed off when she speaks again, breaking the silence without any awkwardness. “Yeji is keeping an eye on her, anyway. So you don’t need to fry your neurons and die of preoccupation.”

It’s awkward — you’re awkward, meanwhile, the girl looks completely at ease as she takes another hold of smoke into her lungs, naked in all her glory. God, she’s so hot; her muscles are defined, and she’s simply beautiful, like a fallen angel. It takes all of you to not fall down on your knees immediately, begging to eat her out and make her scream in pleasure like she’s done to you. But you’re also tired, and you really need to let your friend know you’re alive and well. There’s nothing more that you hate than being a bother, so you can’t let her alone, wondering if you’ve forgotten about her presence.

“You really are good.” You stare at your hands, letting out a faint giggle. It’s amazing how suddenly shy you are, given how you were begging just minutes prior. “A good fuck, I mean. You are.” In a blink, you’re by the door, gripping the doorknob with an unnecessary amount of strength. “I hope to return the favor, someday.”

“Someday.” She says, tone enigmatic as ever. You’ve noticed she’s annoyingly good at hiding her expressions, always with a bored look on her face. “See you, Y/n.”

You don’t say anything else as you leave the room, losing yourself in the labyrinth of corridors without looking back.

Turns out Chaeryeong is still at the same place she was when you left, thankfully. She jumps into your arms as soon as she sees you, sighing in relief. “I’m going to kill you! Where have you been? I looked everywhere!”

You hold her firmly by the waist, her voice a few quarters higher than usual. Chaery might not be tall, but in this drunken state, she’s heavy, nearly dragging both of you to the ground. She laughs uncontrollably, happy to have you by her side once again.

“The bathroom line was too long.” You lie, taking the drink from her hands as you take a sip. It’s strong, provoking a nauseous sensation that you ignore as you swallow it down.

The lie comes naturally, not because you feel like you have to hide what happened from your best friend, but simply because you find yourself too tired to explain. She’s going to make you repeat yourself as soon as she sobers up again, anyway.

She knows it, though. “Liar! You were doing something.” The girl narrows her eyes, a confused expression on her face as she brushes the hair away from your neck. “Where’d you get a new necklac— Y/n! You dirty whore!”

You can’t help but laugh as she examines the hickeys Ryujin left on your skin, mouth opened in a big “O” — slightly pushing her off you. Chaeryeong stumbles, hitting the wall with her shoulders as she tries to gather her balance.

“I’ll tell you about it later, okay? M’ too tired right now.” You promise, not giving her drink back once she reaches out for it.

Chaeryeong doesn’t seem to mind, jumping up and down in excitement. She grabs you by the shoulders, shaking your body with a smile that nearly covers her entire face. “My girl’s getting some game, wow! I’m so happy for you, Y/n! You have no idea. Do you know how many times I wished you got someone? I seriously thought you were going to turn into a nun or something.”

“Hey!” You protest, “I’m not a prude! The last time I had kissed someone was like, last month or something.”

Chaery stops jumping, thankfully. She pays no mind to your grumbling, twirling, and moving along with the blasting music’s rhythm. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

You eye her with narrowed eyes, but she stops all of her movements before you can give her a sneaky response. Her face pales, and she gulps deeply.

“Are you okay, Chaery?” No response. Chaeryeong’s eyes are fixated on the wall behind you, the colorful lights and blasting music from the living room surely doing nothing but overwhelming her even more.

“Yeah.” She looks up, sighing. “Just felt this sudden urge to t—“ The way she covers her mouth is enough of a sign, for you. Acting quickly, you pull her to the gardens, as Chaeryeong tries her best to not jerk her body forward. It’s immediate: she throws up as soon as she finds a bush to lean on, the effects of the alcohol, adrenaline, and visual stimulation from the party getting to her organism.

“I guess you kept your drinking game high while I was busy?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood. It works, you can tell Chaery’s laughing by the way her small shoulders move. She gives you a thumbs up, too, her face still shoved in between the leaves. “Okay. Are you good to be by yourself for a few moments? I’ll get you some water, then I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.” Your friend manages to say, lying down on the grass. Her hair is all messy, and her face remains pale. “I’m fine now, though. 100%.”

“I’m still getting you the water.” You get up from where you were kneeling, too, rushing towards the kitchen entry with hurried steps.

You’re not too worried, though. This wasn’t exactly an unusual situation — sometimes Chaeryeong would drink too much, too fast… sometimes you would. It was a pain in the ass, naturally, and you’d always wake up deeply hungover the next day, but it wasn’t something to be deeply preoccupied with.

Humming to yourself, you open the fridge, in hopes of finding a bottle of fresh water. It was better than going to the bar set in the lively living room and asking for one, anyway. You barely notice a girl standing next to you, handing exactly what you’re looking for. She’s one of Ryujin’s friends, you reckon — her sunset, pin-straight hair compliments her features effortlessly, as her hypnotizing eyes stare at you attentively.

You know a judgmental look when you see one. This one’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“For your pretty friend.” She says, waiting patiently for you to take the bottle from her hands. You do, still silent, yet your lack of enthusiasm doesn’t scare her away. She keeps babbling, not minding you at all. “I hope she feels better.”

It’s as though she knows something you don’t, and the hidden mockery in the air leaves you uneasy.

“Thanks…” You murmur, playing with the bottle in your hands. Before you brush past her to return to your friend, she adds.

“—Yeji. That’s my name.” Yeji tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, waving you goodbye with feigned innocency. “Bye, Y/n. Make sure Chaeryeong arrives home safely.”

Chaery’s had an eye on her earlier, nearly fucking her from afar while you were in your own world, lost in thoughts. They probably had some fun before you came back to your friend, that’s all.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you lean next to Chaeryeong again, trying to ease the knot in your stomach as you give her the plastic bottle.

“Here, don’t drink it all at once.” You say, chuckling as the girl nearly drowns herself in the water, desperate to get rid of the bitter taste in her mouth. “It’s been a long day, Chaeryeong. Let’s go home.”

She gladly takes the hand you offer, groaning as she shakes the remains of grass from her pants. “I had fun, though. Today was a fun day, Y/n. Did you have fun too?”

There’s mischief all over her face, making it impossible for you to feel down. It’s her gift, being able to lift your spirits with her lame jokes and energetic nature.

“Of course, Chaery. I always have fun when I’m with you.” You nod.

Your words please her, and she leans her head against your shoulder as you make your way to the car, side by side.

It’s late, and you’re tired. You’d handle it all in the morning.

Despite the weariness that penetrates thick in your bones, you’re punctual as always, doodling in your journal by the counter as the sun fights its way up against the messy fog of the morning. It’s a routine you’ve been doing ever since you were a teenager: going out, partying, and going to so many places until dawn, while still showing up to work at the Diner in the following morning.

You’d get some rest, eventually. For now, the four hours of sleep you had were enough to keep you up, somehow. Besides, Saturday mornings are always some of the slowest days at the place, with hardly anyone coming for breakfast. People liked to sleep in, trying to gather all the hours they’ve lost from having to wake up early for work, you guess — which is why the place is empty, no customers to be seen.

There’s a hard slam on the corner, and you lift your eyes to follow the sound. You’re greeted by Rosé: her baby-pink hair is even messier than usual, and her leather jacket seems to be the only thing protecting her from the chilly weather. It does little to ease her, though — Your sister’s shorts expose her legs, dirty and scratched. At least her crop top is thick, the black clothing making her seem even more intimidating. And she smells of smoke, instead of her usual cologne.

“You look like shit.” You’re the first to break the silence, as your eyes return to your sketch. It’s not an easy thing to do, but you try your best to act indifferent to your sister’s piercing stare. “I’m taking you haven’t had any sleep at all.”

She’s fuming, you know that. Somehow, Rosé’s cold attitude is much worse than her red fire. Her quietness scares you, as it should. It’s never a good sign.

“Have you ever been anything other than useless, all your life?” She spits, and her words hurt, no matter how long you’ve mentally prepared yourself to have that talk, ever since you left the warehouse. “I asked you to do one thing, Y/n. One fucking thing, and you managed to fuck it all up! God, you’re such a failure.”

Your mouth is dry, all of your courage going down the drain as you stare at the woman in front of you. Suddenly, you’re a little kid again, playing your part as Rosé’s little doll so you’d receive a smile, a praise, anything from her. You’d do anything to get her to acknowledge you, having to fight for her attention like everyone else.

But not anymore.

She hits the counter again, visibly enraged. You shove your finger at her chest, fighting back before she destroys you with her words — like she’s so good at.

“And you’re a fucking liar! Fuck you, Rosé. You fucking lied to me, saying we’d meet Wendy because you knew damn well I’d say no to dealing with Jinsoul. And you know what? I was fucking right!” Saying the words out loud is enough to give you courage. When you speak again, your tone is low, sharp like she’d taught you. “We could’ve gotten seriously hurt out there, Rosé. And you were fully aware of that when you sent us into that fucking trap! You’re in no position to demand anything.”

Rosé runs her hands through her hair, and you can tell she’s exhausted, too. She’s always hidden things from you, so it’s impossible to know what’s going on in her life. Although you can’t bring yourself to care, anymore.

“We need that money, Y/n!” She shouts, exasperated. If her stare could burn, you’d be long dead. “How do you think things work, huh? Who do you think is paying for that fancy college of yours — our house, the food we eat every day? It’s me! I provide for us, with that dirty money you hate so much. So wake up! Fucking idiot. Stop being such a burden and help, for once.”

You know it’s true. Even though your father is supposedly the one in charge, Rosé is the true leader. Needless to say, you’re grateful for all of those things.

Which doesn’t make Rosé any less of an asshole.

“You’re a shit sister.” You lean on the chair, your icy tone placing a blunt contrast to her fiery screams. “And an absolutely horrible person. I despise you.”

A flash of hurt passes through Rosé’s eyes, so fast you wonder if you’ve imagined it. But as fast as it happens, it’s over with. Instantly, her defenses are up again, and your sister looks down on you, rolling her eyes as she crosses her arms in the middle of her chest.

“You’re tiring me.” She huffs, her tone making it clear she is done with the conversation. Rosé leans on the counter and shoves your shoulders on a punch before storming away, slamming the entry door loudly. “I’m going out, to clean the mess you’ve made. Like always.”

Tears start to cloud your vision as you watch her hop on her car, the roaming of the engines making her feelings clear enough for anyone to understand. She’s an asshole, you know it; but it’s hard to not be upset by her lack of care towards you. You long for her approval and affection, getting anything other than that is enough to leave you deeply hurt.

It’s frustrating, to feel like that over such a shitty situation. You don’t even know if the tears you shed come from sadness or from anger, as you brush them away from your face.

A lithe figure hits the window to grab your attention, and you’re deeply surprised to see Ryujin barging in, walking towards you in confident steps. She chooses the table closest to you, resting her arms over the chairs next to hers.

“Good morning, Y/n.” She says, completely comfortable.

“Morning.” You can’t help but frown, confused. At least her presence offers enough of a distraction from your actual problems. “What are you doing here, Ryujin?”

Ryujin smiles, her eyes small and dazed, so pretty it should be a crime. The rays of weak sunlight brighten her face, making her seem almost innocent. Much different from the night prior. “I heard this place had great food, so I came to check. I woke up pretty hungry, you know.”

“Sure.” You hum, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I’ll have some waffles, pancakes, and coffee. Black, and with no sugar, please.” She says, after looking at the menu. You nod, making your way to the kitchen as quickly as possible, in hopes of escaping her intense stares.

It’s unsettling, how you’re able to feel her gaze burning holes on your back. The sensation takes you back to the night prior, a tingling sensation looking for a place in your core. You push it away, opening the double doors of the cooking area.

“Yoona unnie?” You look for the woman, watching her put her phone down to pay you attention. Smiling, you hand her a small note. “We have a customer.”

“Oh, so early! No one comes on Saturdays.” She mumbles, peeking out behind you to spot Ryujin, who stares at the road in boredom. “I’ll prepare it quickly. Meanwhile, you can go entertain her.”

You laugh at Yoona’s suggestion, shaking your head. “I’d rather wait here, with you.”

Yoona’s face turns serious, as she points at you. “No one is allowed in the kitchen while I cook. Goodbye, Y/n.” You grumble, having no choice but to go back to Ryujin while the woman pushes you out the doors.

Having coffee without any sugar is a trait reserved for psychopaths, which you think suits Ryujin well. You pour her drink in your favorite mug, before returning to her table.

“I thought you also cooked.” The raven-haired girl stands when you approach, promptly pulling the chair in front of herself.

She gestures for you to sit, and you frown, ready to argue that you are still working. The knowing look she gives you is enough to make you sit down, obedient.

“I can’t cook to save my life.” You explain, giggling to cover the shame of having to admit such a fact. “Yoona does it effortlessly, though. Her pastries are the best.”

Ryujin nods, scrunching her nose as she looks around. “And where’s your friend, may I ask?” Her smirk turns playful, pointy canines exposed at you. “Are you not taking care of her right now?”

“She’s not a child, right? She can take care of herself.” Although you play along in her game — repeating what she’d told you the day prior, you’re also quick to add. “Besides, she’s sleeping right now. Chaery always sleeps until late after a party.”

“Lucky her.” Ryujin whistles, and you agree. You wish you could sleep like your best friend, too. Not only did Chaeryeong often sleep until late at noon, but she’s also the heaviest sleeper you’ve ever met, unlike yourself. You envy her ability to sleep through literally anything possible.

Yoona calls for you to get Ryujin’s order, which you quickly do. The dishes look impeccable once you place them on the table. Yoona never misses.

It wasn’t rare to have customers who came by themselves, with the desire to have a moment of peace and enjoy their meals. With that in mind, you motion to leave, leaving Ryujin alone to do just that. She surprises you by grabbing your hand, ever so gently.

“This one’s for you, actually.” She pushes the pancake plate in your direction, hand still holding on to yours. Her fingers trace gentle circles in your palm. “Would mind joining me? I hate to eat alone.”

Leaving you without words is, apparently, one of Ryujin’s many talents. Once again, you feel drawn to her, incapable of saying no. It’s something in her eyes, you suppose; the way she stares at you, attentive, from the moment you first met each other. She acknowledges every little detail about you, and most importantly, she listens. You didn’t know someone could understand you entirely like that — it’s both thrilling and scary, to know you’re so aligned.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You murmur, and she shakes her head, in a clear sign that you don’t.

The two of you eat, soon engaged in lively conversation. It’s a pleasant surprise, to know Ryujin is much more than a pretty, intimidating face: she’s smart, funny, and very attentive. You both enjoy the same books, and she’s respectful and mindful when sharing her perspective about topics you disagree on. Time flies, and you find yourself comfortable in her presence.

Getting you to talk about yourself is difficult — even Chaeryeong has to ask repeatedly to get information from you. You just can’t help it: being raised to be a discreet, private person has created the habit of bottling up your emotions, and hiding things until you couldn’t handle them anymore.

However, the words flow freely with Ryujin. You want to share about your life, your hobbies, the people you love… it’s just somewhat easy when it comes to her.

And she doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Far from that, Ryujin drinks from you: acknowledging every little detail about yourself, enchanted and marveled.

You barely notice how quickly you’ve eaten breakfast, not even a small bite left. Ryujin is surprised, too, to not have noticed either. You’ve distracted her and knocked down her defenses without even meaning to do so.

“Okay, so I might’ve come here with a purpose…” She says, and you shake your head. Of course, she did. “In my defense, I found this on my bedside table, a little after you left, and it looked pretty fancy to just keep to myself.”

In her hands, there’s a cross necklace, shining in bright silver. Your fingers go to your neck unconsciously, in hopes of touching the one you kept with yourself at all times — only to hold on to the air, instead. You grasp, bile bundling up in your stomach at the thought of the hours you’ve spent without your precious necklace.

As soon as you reach out for it, Ryujin holds the jewelry away from your hands.

“May I?” She unclasps the lock, gesturing to where it should be rested.

You nod, eager to have your necklace back. Holding your hair away from your face, you turn around, waiting for her. Her breath is hot on the back of your neck, and for a moment, you think she might kiss you. Instead, she takes a step back, a proud look on her face as she runs her thumb against the bruises on your collarbone. “There. All done, angel.”

“Thank you.” The words that leave your mouth are sincere, and you can’t muster how grateful you truly are. “I… Thank you, really. This is so important to me. How can I repay you?”

No matter how much you might hate Rosé at the current moment, that necklace means everything to you. It reminds you of a time when things were less complicated. When you were too young to understand what was truly going on in your life, lost in the innocence of childhood.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ryujin brushes it off, getting up quickly. She drops some money on the table, definitely much more than what she’s ordered. “We’ll see each other soon. Bye, Y/n. You look beautiful, by the way.”

Just as fast as she appeared, Ryujin’s gone. Leaving you to wonder what’s underneath all that mysterious façade, you go back to your chores, unable to brush the raven-haired girl off from your thoughts.

—

Rosé’s been having one hell of a week. Weeks, or even a month.

As if dealing with her family’s business wasn’t enough, with people constantly waiting for an opportunity to betray her and plan their downfall, this new gang that’s been stealing all her clients and supplies has been pissing her off in ways she didn’t deem possible. And now, she has your stupid feelings to worry about. God, you’re so damn sensitive it drives her crazy.

“Rosie?” Lisa’s voice reminds the woman she’s in the middle of a meeting — one she called herself. “What’s going on? You’ve been distracted ever since you walked through the door.”

“Yeah. This fucking sucks, but don’t fret too much. It’s not like we’ve not dealt with situations like those before. Those bitches will get what they deserve.” Jisoo says, in an attempt to soothe Rosé’s nerves. Her tone is excited — perhaps too much.

She’s always been a little masochist.

They’re right, which only makes Rosé more frustrated. She should be planning her revenge, not pouting over a stupid fight.

“I know, it’s just—“ She sighs. “Never mind. Let’s get this over with.”

They all nod, chatting vividly, but Rosé’s phone lights up before she’s able to join the conversation. There’s a message from an unknown number, which is unusual.

The content of it is what unsettles her the most. Her mouth dries and the air runs from her lungs as she stares at the image sent — A picture of you, boobs covered by someone’s arms and bare waist filled with bruises.

The message under it says Thank you for the guns and the snack. I’ll make sure to come back for more, later.

It doesn’t have a slight indication of who sent it, but Rosé doesn’t need a confirmation. She knows exactly who did.

“Jennie!” She screams, even though the girl is not far away from herself, sitting by the long table in the dining room. “Grab the stuff immediately. We’ll do this at my house, instead.” And so she turns, barging orders as she goes.

No one’s going to use her little sister as bait and live.

This newcomer might’ve had a few strikes of beginner's luck, but Rosé’s patience had run thin. She wouldn’t tolerate any insolences anymore, no.

She’ll have Ryujin’s head.

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partycatty · 7 months ago

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older!johnny cage > listen up

you just can't seem to follow orders, so johnny explains them loud and clear... :3

warnings: you're a dilf obsessed freak and you get yelled at idk, he's meaner than usual, idk how the military works

[ masterlist ]

• lieutenant cage was, at the best of times, a strong advisor and wise man.

• at his worst of times, he's barking orders at the squad like a pack of dogs, not that you'd complain if he forced you to all fours, if we're all being honest here.

• some bat out of netherrealm must've pissed in his coffee this morning, and johnny was making it everyone's problem by forcibly refreshing everyone on basic commands. you wonder if it was just an excuse for him to yell his frustration away.

• "fall in!" his booming voice startles you from your trance and you're snapped back to your position, you and other recruits standing in front of johnny in dead-still positions.

• "ten-hut!" he calls, and your back snaps straight. you groan to yourself at the sudden movement, and lieutenant cage catches the sound. his head snaps toward you with a scowl. "no complaining or we're here til sundown, is that clear?!"

• "yes, sir!" your voice can only boom as much, far less trained in the art of... yelling at people.

• cage rattles on about something regarding everyone not knowing their lefts and rights, and decides everyone is deserving of a refresher. so, he stands with his hands behind his back.

• "left face!" you pivot instantly, the choir of shuffling around you moves with you like a strict ocean. "right face!" you return to your previous position with your stick-up-your-ass military posture.

• he barks the directions out in rapid succession, the crowd following it seamlessly... except for you. maybe you didn't get enough sleep, or maybe johnny's cruel voice was making you dizzier than the pivoting was. you stumbled over yourself, a beat behind the rest.

• you stood out like a sore thumb as much as you wished to blend in out of embarrassment. your wonky timing was painfully obvious against the crowd, and johnny let out a loud groan, ripping his sunglasses from his face.

• "christ on a bike," he grumbles, uttering your last name. "are you gonna follow orders or sit there like an idiot?"

• your lips shut tight, eyes forward as johnny stomps up, nearly brushing his chest in your face. his breathing stutters, and you fight every urge to not look up into his eyes.

• "you don't know how to listen, do you?" he growls, nearly speaking into the top of your head. "wasting my god damn time."

• "sorry, sir," your voice shrinks in your throat, which apparently deeply offends johnny today.

• his hand flies to your jaw, holding somewhere between your neck and your jaw as he tilts your head up, applying pressure as the sides of your vision blur out.

• "you're gonna speak loud and clear to me when you answer me, is that clear?" his voice teeters between a whisper and growl, eyes darting between yours.

• you wanted to be scared, you wanted to be compliant and listen to his order, but his hand was literally on your neck. this flustered you, embarrassingly easy and words were almost impossible. your vision spaces out, eyes wandering as you try to ground yourself.

• johnny tugs at your face, drawing your attention back. "look at me when i speak to you."

• "yes, sir," you choke out, a little clearer this time.

• his brows furrow for a moment, lip twitching in a dubious expression you'd never seen on his aged face before. "you're gonna be the death of me."

• you don't even get a moment to contemplate his curious choice of words, as his hand pulls away from your face and he spins on his heel, retreating to his previous position.

• he barks that everyone is starting over because of you and a quiet wave of sighs and shuffles heat your face. it was already mortifying to be humiliated in front of your squad, but you were berated by none other than your dilfy work crush... your boss. maybe you could curl up into a ball and die here and now.

• after a few hours of stupid, repetitive training you want to do nothing more than rot in your bed, ignoring the pissed looks of your colleagues. just as you're about the exit the room, a hand shoots out to squeeze at your wrist, nearly dragging you backward from the unexpected force.

• a firm voice states your last name, and you instantly recognize it as your very upset boss. you swallow thickly and try to put on your best neutral expression as you turn to face him.

• "my office," he says, though it doesn't sound like a request and more like a command. "now."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk11 #marley writes ☆

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 8 days ago

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Under the Hood

Pairing: Eddie Munson X reader

AU: Mechanic! Eddie

Warning: fluff, mentions of everyone being jerks to Eddie

Authors note: I hope yall enjoy this fic,i miss Eddie so here he is :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

It was late afternoon, and you were stranded on the outskirts of Hawkins, parked along a dusty road with your car that had, quite inconveniently, decided to give out on you. After a few useless attempts to get it started, you finally accepted you needed help. A friend mentioned “Munson’s Garage”—a small shop you’d vaguely heard about. The name, though, rings a bell. Could it be… Eddie Munson’s garage?

You remember Eddie from high school. Loud, unapologetically different, and definitely the furthest thing from the Hawkins social elite. Back then, you’d watched him from afar. While most people dismissed him as the school’s “freak,” you knew there was more to him. You’d even gone to see him play with his band, Corroded Coffin, a couple of times at the Hideout. You remembered the intensity on his face when he played, his talent radiating off him in waves. He’d never noticed you back then—just a quiet girl in the crowd who stayed out of his way, not one of the jerks who taunted him.

But now, years later, maybe fate has other plans.

After getting the garage’s address, you pull up and park. The building looks a little worse for wear, but it has a certain charm, with an old “Munson’s Garage” sign barely hanging onto the front. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door, stepping inside.

Eddie’s there, of course, leaning over an old car, one hand gripping a wrench, the other holding up the hood. He looks different, in a way, older and more grounded, but still undeniably Eddie. His hair’s pulled back under a bandana, and his faded T-shirt is smeared with grease.

He glances up as you approach, his expression turning from suspicion to surprise, and then to a slow grin. “Well, well. Hawkins royalty, gracing my little shop,” he says, a teasing edge to his voice.

You roll your eyes. “Royalty? Hardly. My car broke down, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a miracle worker with engines.” Eddie leans against your car, his grin widening. “Guess I should properly introduce myself… Eddie Munson, resident mechanic and car wizard.”

“I know who you are,” you say, smiling. “I remember you from high school.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah? That’s not what I usually hear. Most people pretend they don’t.” He chuckles, but there’s something a little vulnerable in his expression.

“No, really,” you continue, feeling a bit braver. “I remember your band, too. Corroded Coffin, right? I actually came to a couple of your shows.”

Eddie freezes, blinking in surprise. “Wait—you actually came to see us?”

You nod. “Yeah, you were amazing. I always thought you had serious talent.”

For a moment, Eddie just stares at you, something softening in his gaze. “Huh. Guess you’re one of the good ones, then.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks. “Most of the people from high school didn’t have much good to say about me, you know? Especially the basketball crowd.”

“Well, I’m definitely not one of them,” you reply firmly.

Eddie’s expression changes, his usual cocky demeanor dropping as he looks at you with something more serious in his eyes. “I’m… I’m glad you’re not,” he says softly, his gaze lingering on you. There’s a tension building, and you can feel the air grow thicker. For a moment, it seems like he might lean in.

But then, he clears his throat and glances away. “Anyway, let’s get that car of yours looked at, huh?”

You nod, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

Over the next few days, Eddie works on your car, keeping you updated with every little detail. He even insists on teaching you a few things—“just in case” you find yourself stranded again. The garage quickly becomes a second home, with the smell of oil and the sound of rock music on the old radio.

One evening, he invites you over to check on the progress, and you find him deep under the hood. He’s humming along to a song, his fingers deftly working over the engine, and he doesn’t notice you until you clear your throat. When he looks up, he gives you a grin that sends a spark straight to your heart.

“You just gonna watch me, or you wanna get your hands dirty?”

You scoff. “I’m not about to ruin my nails.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, laughing. “I’ll teach you the basics. Maybe you’ll be a natural.”

Reluctantly, you agree, and he shows you how to check the oil and recognize a few key parts. The entire time, he stands close, guiding your hands, and you can feel every touch linger just a bit too long. His fingers graze over yours as he explains things, and his voice is softer, almost as if he’s talking to himself.

“So,” he murmurs, breaking the silence as he watches you, “did you really mean what you said about liking my band?”

You nod. “Yeah. You were great. You looked so… free up there.”

Eddie swallows, his gaze dropping to your lips. He leans in, his face close, and for a second, it feels like he might kiss you. But he pauses, pulling back with a slightly flustered smile.

“I, uh… guess we should finish up here,” he says, looking away. There’s a strange tension in the air, and you leave that night feeling both excited and frustrated, wondering what might have happened if you’d been braver.

The next evening, you return to the garage. Eddie’s face lights up when he sees you, and he offers you a playful smile. “Couldn’t stay away?”

“Maybe I wanted to make sure you were doing a decent job on my car,” you tease.

“Oh, please. I’m an artist with engines.” He winks, tossing a rag aside. “Actually, I was thinking maybe we could take her for a spin tonight. You know, just to make sure everything’s in order.”

You nod, and soon enough, you’re in the passenger seat while Eddie drives. The road is quiet, the sky dimming with the last light of the day, casting everything in a warm glow.

“So… if you really liked Corroded Coffin that much, why’d you never come say hi?” he asks, glancing over with a curious smile.

You shrug, feeling shy. “I guess I thought you wouldn’t remember me. I wasn’t exactly memorable back then.”

“Trust me, I would’ve remembered,” he says, his voice soft. “Not a lot of people actually saw me as more than… you know, the ‘freak.’”

You reach over, resting a hand on his arm. “You weren’t a freak, Eddie. You were brave. I always admired that.”

Eddie stares at you for a long moment, his gaze intense. He pulls the car over, turning to face you completely, and there’s something vulnerable in his eyes.

“You’re not like the others, are you?” he whispers. “I don’t think anyone’s ever looked at me the way you do.”

The tension between you feels almost electric. He reaches up, his hand brushing gently against your cheek, and you lean into his touch. He leans in, his lips hovering over yours for a heartbeat before finally pressing them to yours.

The kiss is soft, lingering, and when you pull back, both of you are a little breathless.

“So… you wanna grab a bite to eat or something?” he asks, looking at you with a hopeful grin.

“Yeah,” you say, laughing as you give him another quick kiss. “I think I’d like that.”

He drives you to a small diner, where you laugh and talk for hours, sharing stories and dreams. By the time he drops you off at home, it feels like something new and beautiful has started between you two.

As he leans in for one final kiss, he grins against your lips, whispering, “Guess I’m not so hopeless with love, either, huh?”

You laugh, shaking your head as he pulls you into one last, lingering kiss, and you know this is only the beginning.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

#x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction

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solecize · 8 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining, jungkook as a parental figure 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5.4k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. mentions of death

part seven: the all-nighter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

xvii. the all-nighter

for the last three years of your life, you were used to living alone. you naturally gravitated solitude as you grew older and away from your days with your family and college dorms. nothing really “freaked” you out, even when you lived in the city with a higher crime rate. spiders? just step on them. random noises? it’s just creaky floorboards.

however, you were not prepared for someone pounding at your door at one in the morning.

on days that you worked, you had a strict ten thirty bedtime and couldn’t break it unless you had time for a nap or more than one cup of coffee the next day. you were fast asleep when you woke up, thinking you heard banging over the sound of your white noise machine. for the first few minutes, you shook it off, trying to grasp again onto your slumber. but, the banging continued and your eyes immediately opened, wide.

on instinct, you rolled over and with your head to the ground, grabbed the crowbar that you kept underneath your bed. there was some yelling that accompanied the banging and your blood ran cold. eyes darting around for your cell phone, you realized it was charging in the living room.

“are you kidding me?” you whispered to yourself, tip-toeing as carefully as you could across your bedroom’s usually creaky floorboards.

head ducked down as far as you could, you creeped slowly below your window and tugged your linen curtains to the side. then, centimetre by centimetre, you tried to peer outside. you thought your heart dropped when you woke up to the sound of pounding, until you took sight of the source.

you were filled to the brim with anger, groaning out loud. immediately, you made a beeline down the stairs and nearly ripped the door open.

“jeon jungkook, you scared the hell out of me!” you yelled, feeling like your voice was bursting out of your throat.

in front of you stood jeon jungkook in baggy grey sweatpants and a white tank-stop, sweater tied around his waist. you noticed how his hair up in every direction imaginable. the image forced you to reel it in for a second and you almost felt bad for screaming at jungkook. though, the panic in his eyes briefly flashed away when you also took in the sight in front of him and you noticed the way his shoulders were holding back a laugh.

jungkook finally let the laugh out. “why are you holding a crowbar?”

even though you discovered it was just him at the door and not a serial killer, you were still clutching onto your weapon when running down the stairs. you huffed and didn’t answer him, placing it next to the shoe rack at the door. this was also when you realized that you hadn’t done anything before answering the door, meaning that you were only wearing a baggy t-shirt. if jungkook noticed, he didn’t make it known - then again, it seemed like he was looking in every direction but your own.

“is everything okay?” you asked, grumbling and closing the door slightly, just enough to hide the bottom part of your body and for your head to stick out.

“no. jiwon is missing.”

jungkook ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, bouncing up and down on his feet. his lips were pressed in a straight line, deep in thought. meanwhile, you felt sick.

“what do you mean, jiwon is missing?” your mouth was wide open.

“i’m so stupid!” jungkook yelled, now beginning to pace back and forth. “it’s my fault!”

at this point, you had to step out from inside the door and grab jungkook to get his attention. “jungkook! jungkook, hello? what happened?” you demanded.

he sighed, still not meeting your eye. “we had a fight after dinner and i accidentally fell asleep after. when i woke up an hour ago, she was gone.”

your head whipped around, trying to get a look of the clock in your living room. it was nearly twenty after one. you immediately made a beeline for where your phone was charging, shouting for jungkook to shut the front door behind him.

“have you called the police? where have you checked?”

“bunny, are you crazy? i can’t call the police!” jungkook exclaimed and the aggressiveness of the way you turned to face him again was marked by disbelief.

you were convinced he had lost his mind. your phone was already in your hand, thumb hovering over the dialpad. instead, he walked towards you and gently pushed it down.

jungkook sighed. “i can’t call the police.”

“i don’t understand,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“i can’t call the police because what if they take her out of my care?” he said. “maybe it sounds like a stretch, but i’m afraid the government will see me as an unfit guardian. i don’t want to get any officials involved - at least not yet.”

you squeezed your eyes shut. it was understandable that jungkook had these concerns, but it seemed like either decision was going to be risky.

jungkook continued, “look, the court gave me a really hard time when i was making my case for guardianship, demonstrating responsibility and everything. i was lucky when they granted approval. even then, for the first little while, they had eyes on us constantly - monitoring me for any little fuck up i could make.”

it was something that often came to mind when you thought about jiwon, how jungkook managed to take on so much and seemed to be fine. you understood that there were many people close to the family that helped out where they could, but it was still an extraordinary feat in your eyes.

“what if she’s in some serious danger?” you said.

he shook his head. “c’mon. we live in the valley, nothing bad ever happens here. she probably just got mad and got lost.” jungkook seemed calm by his voice, but he hadn’t stopped pacing. it was as if he always also trying to convince himself of his own words. he had a point, as the town was relatively peaceful, but your own mind was racing and you were stunned with fear.

“jungkook, i don’t know - “

“she’s all i have! i’m so fucking worried out of my mind, but she’s all i have!” jungkook cried out, finally stopping to crouch down and hand his head down. he did his best to shy his face away from your view, covering himself with his arms.

without missing a beat, you immediately stepped towards him and got down on your knees. his stance was strong, but you managed to wrap your arms around his back from behind him. you could feel his body shake with every sob, releasing each one like he’d been holding them for far too long.

“okay, okay, shh. . .” you soothed, rubbing his back and pressing your cheek into his shoulder. you felt his shoulders drop ever so slightly at your touch. “we’ll find her. we’ll find her, i promise and no one is going to take your sister away from you.”

“i thought i was doing a good job. . .”

“kookie, you’ve been doing a great job with her,” you interrupted and the nickname fell out of your mouth before you even knew it. you didn’t even know you remembered the nickname. it’d been years since you’d ever said it and not once did you call jungkook his childhood nickname since moving back.

at this, jungkook could only reciprocate your touch, snaking his own arms around you and holding you like you were going to fly away. you tucked his head under your chin, whispering more reassurances into his hair. his sobs slowly decreased, as he hastily swiped at his face.

you said, “let’s go look for her. but, if we don’t find her in an hour, we have to call the police.”

jungkook nodded, sniffling. he slowly droped his arms from around your torso, though you could have sworn you felt him hesitate to do so.

and from here, in all your grogginess and anxiety, you picked yourself up and jumped into the first pair of pants you found to head out with jungkook. despite your exterior, you were also quite shaken that jiwon was gone and unlike jungkook, you were worried that she wasn’t simply “lost” somewhere in town. even in sleepy town like amber valley, anything was possible, but you didn’t want to give him more reasons to worry.

when the two of you walked out the front door of the farmhouse together, jungkook briefed you on the specifics out what was happening.

“i asked the boys to help out. namjoon and jimin are heading to the woods, taehyung and seokjin are by the river, and hoseok and yoongi are checking main street,” he said, walking a step ahead of you in order to lead the way. “and, um, sorry i went and woke you up like that. you weren’t answering your phone.”

there was about sixteen missed calls from jungkook when you checked your screen and the sight made your heart heavy. you would have picked up in a second, whether not or not you were to wake up at five in the morning. you apologized to jungkook and he waved you off, saying it wasn’t a big deal.

it was also made clear that jiwon left her phone at home, which frustrated jungkook even more because of his constant reiteration to her in regards to always having it. there was absolutely no sign as to where she could be and jungkook needed trusted eyes everywhere, just in case.

the next little while was only filled with silence between the two of you. he passed you a flashlight, while holding his own, as the majority of roads in the valley had very few streetlights. you weren’t sure where the two of you were walking towards, as jungkook had his eyes glued to his phone and thumbs tapping rapidly - presumably talking to the other boys.

“the beach,” jungkook suddenly said, as if reading your mind. “we’re heading towards the beach.”

you recognized several landmarks that confirmed this, looking around and rubbing your arms from the wind. despite the summer season, it had no chance against the dead of the night. the surroundings only grew cooler with each step towards the beach.

you said, “any updates?”

“no,” jungkook responded with a sigh. while on his phone, he was looking up every other second to identify any sudden movements that could have been jiwon. but, it was all road and no sign of the little girl.

you paused, before mustering as much strength as you could. “JIWON!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, as soon as the two of you stood at the path towards the beach.

jungkook looked at you, almost jumping at your sudden shout. he then brought a hand to the side of his mouth and did the same, screaming his sister’s name at the top of his lungs.

the two of you continued doing this, jogging down the path until the dirt beneath your sandals became sand. you had yet to visit the beach since moving back and although it was dark, the smell of salt filled your senses and that was enough to take you right back to what it was like spending your youth by the ocean.

still screaming for jiwon, the two of you split up in opposite directions and wildly waved around your flashlight at every nook and cranny in sight.

“jiwon! jiwon! ji - “ you sighed. it had been nearly ten minutes at this point and you were freezing cold. the beach stretched far and you had yet to cover even half of it. the more you checked for the time, the more anxious you grew.

then, you felt something drape over your shoulders and you turned around, knowing it was jungkook. his eyes were bloodshot red, looking like he hadn’t stopped crying since the two of you parted ways. despite his, his features were expressionless and that was in spite of the cold conditions, as his arms were still bare and he kindly gave up his sweater to put over your own body.

jungkook’s voice was low. “this is hopeless.” he turned around, facing where he had come from. “nothing on that end. i thought i’d join you.”

“this isn’t hopeless, don’t say that,” you shot back, immediately forgetting your own worries to shut down jungkook’s.

“it’s my fault, too. she was so pissed at me earlier,” he groaned. “and we never fight. this is all my fault.”

“stop that,” you said.

jungkook shook his head. “i don’t know what’s gotten into her lately.”

he trudged on with you at his side, while you continued to scream for jiwon at every other second until jungkook tapped on your shoulder. you stopped, looking at him in confusion.

“maybe we should tone down the yelling. we’re walking towards some houses and, well, i don’t want to wake people up,” he mumbled.

“you mean you don’t want the town to talk. it’s okay,” you replied at a lower volume, lips pressed into a thin smile.

jungkook’s eyes softened at your understanding. “the community helps me out as much as they talk. there’s people i trust, but i’ve always been given a hard time for being in charge of jiwon. i can’t imagine what the kids might be saying to her at school for having no parents. . .”

“well, instead she got the best big brother in the world.”

“yeah, the best big brother who lost her,” he nearly spat, bitterness coating every single word.

you understood more and more why jungkook didn’t immediately call law enforcement when he found that jiwon was gone. the legal challenges that he could face was one thing and possibly something that could be successfully overcome, but the whispers that spread around a small town were sticky like honey. he didn’t need more on his plate to add on to what he was already likely dealing with.

“so,” you began, hoping that small talk might ease jungkook’s tenseness, “how’s work going?”

“work is work,” he replied dryly, not saying anything more.

“i mean, your only co-worker is a thirteen year old. i can see why it might be boring,” you attempted to drag the conversation, but jungkook was unresponsive. outside of the current situation, you remembered your last encounter with jungkook at the market, which was a week ago at this point.

you thought things were slowly going back to normal with him, but it seemed like he was holding himself back from letting it happen every time. now that the conversation was drawing away from the objective of finding jiwon, it was like jungkook was reminded of what was going on with you. you let out a deep sigh, which made him look at you.

“what? i can’t sigh because it’s obvious you’re mad at me for something?”

“i’m not mad at you,” jungkook said.

you grumbled, “you definitely are. why have you been acting like this?”

“like what?” he responded, looking back ahead and not at you.

it was nearing an hour since departing from the farmhouse at this point and although you were no long half-asleep, you were instead felt growing distress. there had yet to be a call from any of the boys either.

“oppa!” a voice shrieked and your heart jumped out of your chest.

jungkook froze, looking around as if he was hearing things. the voice screamed again and just like that, he jumped to a full sprint towards the direction of the voice. you followed instantly, using all of your strength in your legs to dash alongside jungkook.

“jiwon? JIWON!”

he was much, much faster than you were and although you were doing your best to keep up, he eventually surpassed you. by the time you caught up, your throat was as dry as a desert and your head was levitating above your shoulders. every breath you took was aggressive and every huff was strained.

but, in front of you, jungkook was on one knee and clutching jiwon in his arms. she was sobbing into his shoulder and he, too, was crying with his head hung low. in between each sob, jiwon kept apologizing to her brother.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to - i’m sorry!” she wailed, drool now leaving her mouth and mixing with her tears.

jungkook could barely take in air, hiccuping through his weeping. “don’t you ever scare me like that again - what would i do with myself if something happened to you?” he managed to spit out, trembling with every words. his entire body cried with him, shaking uncontrollably. the sight of jungkook’s pained face and the complete breakdown of his body was foreign to you.

now, you noticed there was another figure in your presence, having completely missed it at first. it was another tiny frame and you recognized it to be sangwoo from the general store, jiwon’s friend. it seemed like he came here with her.

you wiped away the stream of salty tears down your own cheeks, approaching the jungkook and jiwon. you took off jungkook’s sweater, biting back the sharpness of the ocean air, and wrapped it around jiwon’s body.

to your surprise, jiwon let go of jungkook and immediately jumped in your arms.

“don’t cry, honey. shh, we’re here, you’re safe,” you whispered, caressing her hair with one hand and wiping her cheeks with the other. she squeezed your body so hard that you thought she was crushing your bones.

you hugged her back just as hard, rocking her slightly until her sobs became quiet whimperings of apologies. across from you, jungkook watched the two of you, still displaying clear pain on his face. he was still catching his breath, inhaling deeply with a crease in between his eyebrows.

squeezing his eyes shut, jungkook finally spoke. “what were you thinking, jiwon?”

“i thought i could find my way back,” she responded, her volume growing once more and transitioning back to sobs.

“don’t blame her! it was all me!” interrupted sangwoo and jungkook’s eyes flashed with anger, finally taking note of the other boy.

“what the hell happened?”

sangwoo’s eyes were wide in fear. “i’m sorry! she said she was upset and wanted to go on a walk, so we came here,” he said, nearly on the verge of tears himself. “then, we got lost. i’m so sorry!”

you frowned, pulling jiwon’s tiny body closer and shaking your head at jungkook. she needed a second and he sighed, understanding this. jungkook also understood it was time to swallow his anger at sangwoo, deciding a death stare was sufficient and mouthed to him that he would deal with him later. poor sangwoo looked like he was seeing a ghost. then, jungkook instead stood up and walked a few steps away, making a call.

when you saw this, you couldn’t help but gesture for sangwoo. you widened your arms, making enough room for a second body and sangwoo quickly joined the group hug. you continued telling the two children that everything was okay.

“yeah. . .we have her. yeah. for sure, thank you so much,” he murmured into the phone, just barely audible over the sound of ocean waves in the background.

while he was talking, jiwon finally calmed down again. she pulled away, sniffling and met your eyes.

“i’m sorry. i thought i was helping,” jiwon said, which confused you. you weren’t sure what she was talking about.

you responded, “helping what, honey?”

she bit her lip and somehow, you just knew. it was identical to the guilty expression jungkook wore when he was hiding something or he knew something you didn’t. jiwon tugged the sweater tighter around her body before she spoke again.

“you and oppa. . .”

“oppa and who?” it looked like jungkook was finished with his calls, appearing out of nowhere. he no longer looked upset, especially when he saw the look on his sister’s face, and narrowed his eyes at her.

you shot jungkook a look. “let her speak. later.”

the four of you decided it was best to leave the beach, especially since neither you or jungkook had any outerwear to shield yourself from the elements. it was growing later and later, too, and it was agreed to walk back towards the direction of your respective houses. the entire time was filled with silence again, but it was mostly because jungkook looked like he was going to snap if anyone were to talk.

sangwoo was dropped off at his mom’s house, pleading for jungkook to not tell his mom.

he looked genuinely conflicted, even through his anger at the younger boy. “i respect your mom a lot. sorry, kid,” jungkook shook his head.

sangwoo groaned, shoulders dropping. “okay. . .i understand. i’m really sorry again,” he said. “it won’t ever, ever happen again.”

there was light on when you all arrived to the oh house and that was when sangwoo knew he was done for. a shadowy figure moved from behind the front windows, swinging the door open before he even made it up the stairs. you winced when you saw the blank look on mrs. oh’s face, scarier than any kind of anger imaginable.

“get inside,” was all she said, arms folded firmly across her chest.

“i’ll see you tomorrow. . .or never, if i get grounded for life,” sangwoo said to jiwon, visibly sulking.

they exchanged a quick hug and he headed in, right past his mother. you fought a smile because, despite the circumstances, there was nothing more pure than a friendshp at their age. they were ready to go bat to bat for each other, each attempting to take the entirety of the blame. mrs. oh then shut the door behind her, features now softened. she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“you’re okay, sweetie?” she asked jiwon, who silently nodded. “i’m sorry. sangwoo should have known better, he’s the older one.”

somehow, it reminded you of something, maybe a memory, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. you couldn’t dwell any longer because mrs. oh now turned to you and jungkook, who had already begun apologizing and bowed at a ninety degree angle.

“oh, that’s enough, jungkook. i know it’s not your fault,” mrs. oh said, tapping him to stop. “i’m not angry at you at all, got that?”

“but - “

“listen, sangwoo and jiwon safe, that’s all that matters to me. you must’ve been terrified,” she frowned. "i wouldn't have even known he snuck out if you didn't call me."

the last thing jungkook wanted to do was ruin his relationship with a woman who took such good care of him and jiwon, but she was more concerned with the three of you getting some sleep. she even kissed jungkook on the temple when saying goodbye and he visibly eased up afterwards.

eventually, you and jungkook found yourselves on the porch of the farmhouse. it was a quicker trek back than it was towards the beach, likely due to the suspense of trying to locate jiwon. you were pleased at this, though, given the already long night. it was nearly four in the morning now and you knew that this would create chaos for your sleeping schedule, deciding in your head to take the day off.

“get in, i’ll deal with you later,” jungkook muttered, opening your front door slightly for jiwon to walk in. “bunny and i are gonna talk, just go sit down.”

jiwon, with her head still hung low, followed her brother’s orders and walked inside. he closed the door behind her, running a hand through his disheveled hair. jungkook was the most calm he’d been all night, but it still looked like he was ready to scream his head off.

you tucked a stray hair behind your ear, taking a seat on the bench beside the door. he joined you, mumbling something under his breath about how he couldn’t believe that just happened.

“hey, it’s okay. we found her -” you murmured, rubbing his back gently.

“- thank you,” jungkook interjected, finally spitting out some coherent words. “you saved my life today.”

“i only helped where i could.”

“and it means the world to me. thank you,” he whispered, meeting your eyes.

you still couldn’t believe how the events of the night unfolded. you were relieved and tired, but most of all, you were overjoyed for jungkook. it was like you physically witnessed a huge weight lifted off his shoulders.

you said, “in a heartbeat, jungkook. i’d help you at any time, anywhere.”

and this was the truth. even though tension was growing between you two and even if he came banging at your door in the middle of the night, jungkook was still your friend at the end of the day.

“i’m sorry to have kept you up. looks like we stayed up all night,” jungkook said.

“like we used to when we were kids. you know,” you paused, trying to think. “i think this happened once when we were younger. sangwoo and jiwon got caught staying out late the same way we did that one time.”

this memory was slowly becoming less blurry the more you focused on it, trying to put together the puzzle pieces. on the walk back to the farmhouse, something felt all too familiar about the stroll in the middle of the night. jungkook was quiet, thinking about what you said, until it hit him, too.

“wait, you’re right,” jungkook managed to chuckle, the first time you’d seen him smile all night. “we stayed out late one time because you heard a rumour about a ghost in the woods.”

“yeah, from freaking jimin. i can’t believe i believed him,” you laughed, swinging your feet.

jungkook replied, “you dragged me out to find the ghost and my mom came looking for us!” and of course, though he didn't mention it, jungkook took the blame for you back then. in fact, he always took the blame the same way he let you win every argument.

the two of you shared another laugh together, before it faded into silence again. it looked like jungkook was deep in thought again.

he sighed, looking up at the night sky littered with stars. “so, jiwon and i fought earlier because today marked the anniversary of our parents’ accident. i’ve never wanted to do anything on this day for years, not even visit their grave. mrs. oh had to take her,” jungkook admitted. “she was really mad at me for that. said something along the lines about how i haven’t been able to let myself be happy since they died.”

“well,” you began, carefully, “have you?”

the question was heavy, prompting a blanket of silence for a few seconds. you weren’t sure if you said something wrong, but the look on jungkook’s face seemed to be a pondering one, as if genuinely reflecting on your question. the fact that he had to think about it made you sigh.

“i just don’t know what made her say that. . .” he trailed off.

“why don’t i come with you next time?”

jungkook raised his eyebrows. “to where?”

“to visit your parents,” you responded, smiling softly. “is it hard to visit with jiwon?”

you knew exactly how it felt. it was difficult for you to visit your grandfather’s grave with either of your parents, unable to let your guard down around people you wanted to present a strong front to. with jiwon, you wondered if jungkook had a hard time because of his role as her guardian, his role to assure that he was strong.

he frowned once more, looking at his shoes. “i’d like it a lot if you came.” jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper. “you always seem to help.”

“you deserve to let yourself be happy.”

then, jungkook looked up at you again and you felt the intensity of his stare. you noticed suddenly how close the two of you were sitting to one another, legs pressed up against the other. this was despite the large space on your other side, more than enough room on the bench for you to scoot over, but the option never came to mind.

his eyes glanced down to your lips and quickly, as if it never happened, back to your eyes. you were holding your breath. he slowly moved towards you, so slow that you could count every half centimetre he moved.

you knew what jungkook was doing.

more importantly, at that very same moment, you realized the vulnerable state he was in. you couldn’t, not now. what kind of person would you be if you kissed him right after he thought his sister was missing? jungkook’s lips were brushing just against yours when you sharply pulled back.

jungkook didn’t have time to react because a beat later, the front door creaked open. it was jiwon, frowning at you for some reason. she peeked her head out, before fully stepping onto the porch.

“were you standing there the whole time? i told you to stay inside,” jungkook whipped around and his stern voice grew in volume. his face was turned away from yours and you couldn’t tell what his reaction was to you pulling away.

jiwon sighed. “well, i need to tell you guys something.”

she waddled over to where you guys were, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. jiwon played with her hair nervously, as the two of you could only stare at her.

“what is it?” you asked, making sure your voice was soft. it was also imperative that you were fighting off the shakiness in your voice, as if she caught you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing.

jungkook also sat there, pretending like what just happened didn’t occur at all. he sat too stiffly, in fact, and moved away from you as far as he could. you clenched your jaw, not fully processing that your lips touched his. there were goosebumps up and down your arms, visible to both siblings.

“i didn’t run away just because i was mad about today,” she took a deep breath. “i, well, i wanted to see you guys together.”

“what?” you and jungkook said in unison. both of you had your jaws dropped, completely stunned at jiwon’s confession.

“i knew that oppa would ask you to help him find me,” jiwon mumbled, turning to you. “i just didn’t know i would actually get lost.”

“you - “ jungkook started, but you elbowed him before he could continue.

jiwon panicked, eyes wide. “i’m sorry! i really am!” she began rambling at this point and you could barely make out what she was saying, stumbling on every words. “ - and it seemed like you guys were fighting and i just wanted to help and i thought you guys would make up and - “

you knew you had to interrupt before jungkook could. “come here, honey,” you said, opening your arms wide. jiwon sniffled and stood up, walking into your hug.

as jiwon kept rambling into your shoulder, you looked up and saw the frustration on jungkook’s face. he didn’t say anything, only mouthing the words “i’m sorry” to you. meanwhile, you could only assure jiwon that you and her brother were still very much friends. the entire time, jungkook leaned back watched with his arms acrossed.

the blood orange of the sun was creeping up on the sky when you bade jungkook and jiwon goodbye, a sunrise that would have been otherwise beautiful, if not for the unsaid words between you and jungkook.

jiwon grew drowsy, nearly asleep when it was time to go. jungkook carried her on his back, telling you goodbye and nothing more than that. you also did not bring up what nearly happened between the two of you earlier.

at the end of the long night, there was only one thing on your mind. you could finally accept that you had feelings for jungkook. you only knew this because, for the next while, you kicked yourself constantly for not kissing him. but, of course, you had doubts in your mind about him. you were convinced that he only tried kissing you because his emotions carried him away. you thought otherwise after your failed confession, where you shut down all possible emotions after jungkook suggested to ask out taehyung. then, there were your recurring dreams of him. there was the almost kiss. you were fighting with yourself up until this moment.

of course, nearing two months since moving back to the valley, these thoughts could only be contained for so long. with that, you and jungkook could only avoid each other for so long. even with jiwon interfering, nothing could prepare you for what was to happen the next time you saw jeon jungkook.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822 @taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177 @myseokjinji

#jungkook fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts au #bts series #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #kpop imagine

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