#new chapter once a month I don’t make the rules

[neon-danger]

I’ve had the worst day so naturally I’m re reading Starcrossed I can’t wait for a new chapter 🫶

I just posted a new chapter HUH????

[swordsandholly]

Fancy: The Rewrite

Chapter One: Here's Your One Chance

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | next | masterlist | Ao3

A/N: This fic has been haunting me since I stopped working on it. I just wrote myself into a corner and sped through the story far too quickly. Plus, I have some new concepts that I think really fill out the unfortunate issues with the original. Chapter one is the most similar to the original. I'm leaving the original up on tumblr for the hell of it, but I hope you enjoy the re-write as much as I am.

A permanent darkness rests over the city; dense and unbidden. Cold, too. Despite living here your whole life you’ve never quite adjusted to the artificial nature of it - to the shadow hanging above the miles and miles of city. The chill on your skin never lifts. It leaves a shivering underneath, nearly an ache these days. Something ingrained into your very nature by your surroundings.

Really, you aren’t meant to be here. This place isn’t built for humans despite the mass that live within the confines of the city’s dome. It’s purpose made for creatures - beings of the night that stalk and rule. The air has become rotten in the lower neighborhoods over a century of pollution and overpopulation. The constant cover of the dome cannot be broken to filter it - not even for a moment can the eternal night hanging overhead end. Your lungs will turn black before the age of five without proper protection. It’s worse it summer - at least the artificially created facsimile of summer - when the air warms and wets and coats your insides. When the pollutants find their way into the water supply. As if there is any point to the heat with so sunlight in return. Your nails always have a layer of dirt crusted underneath during those months.

The lower city is nothing but old buildings on top of even older structures; all moderately crumbling in some capacity. Apartment buildings are crowded and decent living conditions are hard to come by. Many have a waitlist longer than the human lifespan. Most operate on a dorm system - at least one person per room. Randomly assigned of course, based entirely on who can pay the rent. You’ve lucked out enough to earn a shitty studio to yourself. It’s cracked and crumbling but the locks are tight and it has a window - even if the view is just a building across the alleyway. Even if the smog has turned the tempered glass a semi-opaque grey.

The slippery polyester of your black dress smooths over your skin, just as artificial as everything else in this place. You tie your hair up to show off the double string of pearls on your neck. They’re the nicest thing you own. The most authentic, at least, and the only thing that makes you seem worthy of the upper city. The only thing that can project the image needed to get proper tips - to get what you need to survive. Red lipstick as a final touch, always. It’s corny, and leaves you cringing every time you glance at the damn thing but the vampire clients are always suckers for it. Pun intended.

This job is important. There can’t be a hair out of place; can’t be a single reason to cast doubt that you are inhumanly perfect while never losing that very humanity they crave so desperately. This is your chance. Your one chance to make enough money to get out of the slums and at least make it to the middle city. Once you ruin your reputation at a place like this… well, you might as well call it permanently. You can practically hear the grime on the sidewalk as you make your way toward the metro station. Dirt and debris so caked into the very air down here that you have to wear a respirator as you go. It’ll leave marks when you first take it off, but they usually disappear by the time you’ve made it from the depot to the club.

You don’t bother with sitting on the train. Hell will freeze over before you chance catching whatever new disease has grown in that Petri dish. Instead you join the rest of the patrons in awkwardly standing in the center of the cart, damn near falling over when the train lurches to begin its journey from the slums to the upper city. There are actual names for the two areas, but nobody uses them anymore. They died two generations ago.

The respirator makes a hissing sound as you remove it after stepping out of the train. The cool, clean air of the upper city fills your lungs. It’s satisfying in a way its sticky, filtered sister could never be. The faux fur of your cropped coat tickles at your neck as you walk, blown by that strange breeze that never seems to stop up here. The one that sends all the grime and smog downhill, leaving a fog so thick you can’t even see the building lights properly.

The club sits square in central downtown - bult into the underground level of a historical hotel. It’s an elegant building. Red with curled metal accents over the windows and doors. Modeled after the ancient art nouveau movement. At least that’s what the plaque in the lobby says. You had just long enough to change a glance at it while heading up with a client once. The fixtures sparkle underneath the artificial LEDs of the city - all signs and glowing windows. You can always tell where the humans are, catching glimpses of that unmistakable glow only a UV light gives off.

You duck down the alley behind the hotel. Grimy and dark, the complete opposite of the front entrance. Your heels clack on the concrete loudly - echoing off the hard walls of the building surrounding you. If it weren’t for the small glowing sign that marks the “Back Stage” you might never know it’s there.

It’s easy enough to slip into the routine of your job. Going back and forth to the bartender, carrying various drinks and placating the egos of cowardly men and the vampires they lie to themselves about being equal to. You can see the pity in the ancient creatures’ eyes when they look at their human cohorts posturing to appease them. You can see the hunger, in equal measure, when you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck to the light; when your wrists just pass their noses as you set down their glasses. It’s all purposeful, of course, maintaining the dance of remaining just out of their grasp, but close enough that if they really wanted to take you, they could.

It’s hard work, the dance. Long hours and more days of the week than you would like, but it pays enough for you to afford your little apartment and save some for your theoretical future.

“Hey! You!” The owner barks at you as you gently set your tray back into the stack to be washed.

You whirl on your heel. Shit, did you fuck up? Your mind runs through every interaction over the course of the night - every comment, every stilted moment. Every outcome of whatever mistake you made. Being thrown out into the city before you can even gather your respirator or coat. Choking on the air as you make your way home and praying you survive the symptoms after. Though, there wouldn’t be much point to surviving them without work.

“Y-yes, sir?”

“Need you as a Companion.” He stands in front of you, the pinstripes of his suit warping over his massive, crossed arms. The wrinkle in his nose makes his mustache twitch.

“C-companion!” You squeak. “I’m not-��

“We had a mix up. Need you to take the private booth in the back.”

Your eyes are saucers - heart beating so hard you almost can’t hear him. You don’t know what to make of this. His words are nonchalant and cut right though you, but the prospect they hold… so much opportunity and disaster…

“You paying attention?” He grunts.

Your voice shakes. “Just… why me?”

“You match their preference.” Its blunt. Uncaring. Not that you would ever expect much sympathy from the owner of a place like this - feeding girls to vampires and their kin.

Generally, you’re not the type to be preferred - too big and soft for most. It’s what kept you as a server exclusively, you’re sure. Companion is such a major step up, too. You haven’t had any training. You never thought you’d get there - only a few girls make it from Server to Companion. To have it by happenstance…

With a deep breath you remind yourself that this is temporary. Just for tonight. You are acting as a replacement, nothing more. If you pull this off maybe you’ll get enough extra cash to finally replace the air filtration in your apartment. Maybe you can even get an overhead UV light. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely!

Another tray is shoved into your hands. Is this… actual gold? You turn it over in your hands briefly. Ornate designs line the outer rim - all weaving in and out of each other inlaid with iridescent mother of pearl. It’s cold on your skin and so shiny you catch your reflection in it before the bartender sets a bottle of wine and four glasses on it. You’re fairly certain between the wine and the tray you are holding upwards of ten thousand dollars a in your hands. It takes everything to keep your hands from trembling.

You slowly head for the back booth under the scrutinizing eye of the owner - just beyond the main floor of the bar. It’s far quieter here; the music from the floor muffled by the distance. There are only a few private booths and they are only ever occupied by the city’s elite. The top of the top. You pause at the heavy, velvet burgundy curtain separating you and your clients for tonight.

You just hope they aren’t the type to get rough.

Balancing the tray on one hand, you use the other the push the heavy curtain to the side - entire body alert and tense as your eyes land on the four men sitting at the rounded booth. Their eyes meet yours, and you freeze. A shiver runs down your spine.

They’re beautiful in that way only vampires can be. Untouchable. Marble-esque. Eyes clear and bright even in the low light of the booth - that sheen of night vision apparent. Lions staring down their prey and you, who walked into the den willingly. Their stares tear through you, seemingly pulling you apart at the seams. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think that hypervigilance leaned toward fear.

“Good evening.” It takes everything to keep your voice steady. To slip back into that comfortable service headspace you’ve curated. “I’ll be your Companion tonight.”

“What happened t’ Cherry?” The man on the outer right side of the booth asks, words slow and hushed. His arm is slung carelessly over the back of the booth, body too tense and words too stilted to sell whatever casual air he is trying for.

“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You say softly, carefully sliding the tray onto the table. “If I’m not to your standards-“

“Well, now, none of us said that.” A man with an imperial beard smiles. It softens his face - makes him look less like stone. “What’s your name, dove?”

“Fancy.” You murmur. It’s your chosen work name - based on a song your mother used to play from a century ago. All the workers names are single words. Easy to remember. Easy to request for returning quests.

“Fittin’.” The man to your left grins, bright blue eyes sparkling. His fangs catch the light - your hands tremble for a brief moment.

“Do you know who we are?” The masked man beside him asks. His voice rumbles through your nerves, all the way into your bones. You can hardly look at him - the skull covering the top half of his face makes your gut churn.

Should you know them? Oh, fuck, you probably should. Vampires live forever - their names and legacies travel across centuries. Millenia. It’s going to give you away. You’re just a low class human from the slums. You don’t know Vampires from the uppers.

The illusion of luxury only goes so far.

“It’s not a trick question.” The man to your right smiles gently, tilting his head to the side.

“No, sir.”

“Well,” The one with the beard sits a little straighter. “I’m John Price and these are my… confidants. Cohorts. Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley.” He gestures to each as he goes.

John Price… John Price… Nothing comes to mind. Nothing about any of them, for that matter.

“Lovely to meet you.” You smile pleasantly, slipping back into the script. Swallowing roughly and steadying yourself, you reach for the bottle and slowly pouring a tester amount into the four glasses. “Tonight we have a vintage red for you from 2089.”

John hums, swirling the glass before taking a sip. His eyes don’t leave you and you try not to shrink from them. “You remember the 80’s, Simon?”

“Which one?” The makes you pause. How many 80’s could there be?

John laughs, whole and hearty. Little crows feet appear in the corners of his eyes. “Which d’you think?”

“I remember the blood.” The masked man mutters. He doesn’t look at John either - dark eyes locked on you. You keep up the well trained smile. Neutral, comfortable.

“Och, ye would.” Johnny scoffs, taking his own glass after John gives you a nod to fill the four properly. “Cannae ever remember the good.”

“Well what’s your finest memory then Johnny?”

“There’s was this lass… think her name was Cassandra. Had the biggest tits and-“

“Enough of that. There’s a lady present.” John waves his hand. To your surprise, Johnny actually listens despite looking muffed about it. You can’t help but snort. Lady. As if.

How old are they, anyway? They look young - especially Johnny and Kyle. Definitely below thirty when they were turned. John obviously leads but that doesn’t necessarily mean he turned the rest of them. They could have just come together over the years. Vampire covens vary heavily as to why they came together. Sometimes friendship, sometimes relation, sometimes just convenience.

Simon is still staring you down, hooking a thumb under his mask to raise it just over the end of his nose. Scarred lips sip from his glass.

“Come sit, luv.” Kyle pats the booth beside him, voice hushed.

You snap out of your thoughts at the prompt - moving to sit in the empty spot beside Kyle. The next thing you know hands are on your hips, passing you over until you’re sat square in the middle as if you weigh nothing. You know vampires are strong - you’ve gotten thrown around by your fair share in the slums, whether a mugging or fucking - but it still startles you. They could crush you with barely a flick of the wrist.

Fingers brush over your shoulders, tracing the shape of them and leaving goosebumps in their wake before lowering to rest between your exposed shoulder blades.

“Tell us about yourself, hm?” John prompts.

“Oh, not much to tell.” You shrug and smile. “I’m from the city. Started here about a year ago-“

“How have we never seen ye then?” Johnny interrupts, eyes locked on your chest. You’d think he was staring at the mole just below your collarbone, but that’s probably too presumptuous. “A bonnie thing like ye…”

“Well…” You raise your hand to your mouth like you would when whispering a secret. “I’m not supposed to tell but I’m actually a server, normally.”

“Oh, really?” Kyle leans his chin on his palm. “In a dress like that?”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” You huff, letting the pliant facade slip just enough to make yourself seem real. Just a little less doll like before you return to the script.

“Absolutely nothin’.” Simon hums beside you, eyes near black under the shadow of his mask.

Your face heats. Client compliments never get to you and you’re not sure what about his feels so different. All of their attention is so intense. It dives under your skin and burrows deep in your marrow.

“So, seeing as you implied I should know who you are-“ You tilt your head and meeting John’s eye, “who are you?”

John chuckles, leaning close. “Oh, no one important. Contractors. Independently employed.”

“Ah, so, criminals.” You laugh.

“If you say so.”

“I can’t exactly judge.” You lean in as well, shoulder pressing against his broad chest. The material of his suit is soft and thick. High quality. “I mean, look where I am, hm?”

“Are ye a criminal, lassie?” Johnny grins at you, tilting his head. How he makes a mo-hawk cute is beyond you.

“Shh.” You press a finger to your lips.

“That how you got these?” You startle as John slips his fingers beneath the string of pearls, tugging ever so slightly. You meet his eye, only briefly, only long enough to see something hard behind them that wasn’t there before. He rolls the golden clasp between his fingers absently.

“I… I’ve always had them…” You frown, suddenly wracking your mind as to their origin. You’d never thought about it. They were your mother’s… you’re sure… but somehow that doesn’t feel right. The harder you think, the further the answer seems to be.

Either way, John seems placated by that. He retracts his hand, falling back into the simple banter from before. You allow you shoulders to relax, deciding to take his return to form at face value. Not that you have another option, really. It’s easy enough to look sultry, to play the part, to mindlessly flirt. Easy enough to fall into the simple back and forth. Scripted. Basic. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’re just clients at the end of the day, even if they have more money and power than your usual crowd.

You carefully refill each of their glasses as needed - mostly Johnny’s. His face would probably be red from the alcohol were he alive. You can feel their eyes on you - boring through your very being. It takes more concentration than you’d like to keep your breath from hitching when John’s finger traces the exposed upper curve of your spine above the dress. You lean forward, pushing each glass back to their respective owners.

Johnny takes your hand before you can retract it, placing gentle kisses from your palm to your wrist. He sighs shakily, teeth catching your skin ever so slightly.

“Johnny.” The masked man rumbles in warning.

“Not gonnae bite, LT… she just...” Johnny murmurs against your wrist.

“Have you ever been bitten, dove?” John asks, eyes half lidded as he stares you down.

Prey. You’re just prey.

“N-no…” You shake your head, voice smaller than you’d like. You’re not supposed to. Clients aren’t allowed to bite the girls here - it’s not one of those clubs - but in reality you’re at their mercy. To book one of these rooms they surely have the money to pay whoever necessary to do whatever they might want with you. It’s not like you’re one of those girls anyone would miss.

“Donnae look so afraid.” Johnny chuckles.

“We’re not goin’ t’bite.” Kyle leans forward. “Just curious.”

“Oh…” You whisper. Johnny drops your wrist and you pray that they don’t notice how quickly you retract it. As you settle back into the booth, you allow yourself to sink comfortably into the soft cushions. A jolt shoots down your spine as a cool finger tucks a section of hair behind your ear. Your eyes meet John’s - some undiscernible pain swirls in those grey-blues. It looks wrong, that much emotion on such a statuesque face. He glances past you, toward Simon, you think.

The next thing you know you’re blinking blearily, sitting in John’s lap with your legs across Kyle’s. The younger man’s hand rests on your leg, thumb gently stroking your ankle as you come back to sentience.

It’s like coming up from the undertow and getting your first gasp of air.

“There she is.” Johnny murmurs, smiling softly.

You were compelled - you know that much. There isn’t any other explanation for your sudden, uninterrupted blackout. It’s disorienting. You rub the corner of your eye, purposefully evening your breath. At least your clothes are all still in place. You don’t feel… used. Not bitten either. A choked sigh escapes you against your will, hands trembling in your lap.

“You’re alright, dove.” John coos, cold breath puffing against your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. How much time has passed? When… what… “Can be hard t’come out of it, hm?”

“I’m okay...” You whisper.

“Have some water.” Kyle pushes a glass toward you. The concern on his face feels foreign.

A large, empty decanter of scotch sits in the center of the table accompanied by five empty glasses. That’s the closest hint you have to how long you’ve been here. You take the glass of water shakily and sip, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the rim.

John continues to coo and soothe down your hair. His other hand travels down to rest on your hip, holding you in place against him. It’s strange… this feeling. You’ve been compelled before briefly but it wasn’t like this. John has to be strong. Old. He’s been around a while to have that kind of power - for it to be this difficult for you to come out of the haze. Assuming he is the one that compelled out, of course, though it isn’t exactly a stretch based on his behavior.

It’s taking more concentration to keep from crying than you’d like.

Stranger, though, is the way they watch you. The way John works you back to reality. Most vampires would have been inappropriate while you were gone, wouldn’t bother with the borderline aftercare needed when coming out from under their spell. Most would have left you slumped in the booth - drained of blood or pleasure or both - laughing as they went.

You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter and gathering your wits. “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”

They share a look, one that you can’t quite interpret.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” John asks, voice low.

You look up at him with big eyes. Childlike, almost, staring up in wonder. It’s so strange how vampires aren’t quite white - they just lack the redness of life. The pink under the skin that signifies a beating heart and limited life span.

“I’m sure.”

John presses closer, breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Thank you for being so gracious f’us, tonight.

“Always…” There’s an honestly behind the word that startles you. A craving deep in your bones to prove yourself worthy of him and his men.

Strange.

“We best be on our way.” Simon rumbles, prompting Johnny to let him out of the booth.

John’s eyes flick between yours briefly before he moves you off of his lap with the gentle touch one might use when handling fine china. As much as you want to stay there, dazed and still coming down, you have work to do. So, you stand after them and begin slowly gathering the empty glasses on the tray. They sit heavier in your hand the normal - each movement feels as though you’re moving through molasses.

A cold touch runs up your back and you freeze. Fingers trace the curve of your spine. You straighten, turning slowly only to meet those soft blue eyes again. John takes your hand, eyes alight with something you don’t understand. “I’ll tell the owner he’s wasting you as a servin’ girl. You’re made for more.”

Before you can even possibly decide how to respond, he’s gone. Disappeared through the curtain and into the forever night. Something crinkles in your hand. When you look down, slowly opening your fingers, the contents make your heart jump into your throat.

Cash. A massive roll of neatly banded cash.

How much is this? A few thousand? More?

With frightened eyes and slippery hands you tuck the cash into the secret pocket of your coat. Having that much cash on your person is so out of your wheelhouse - out of the realm of possibility- you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t even get to say thank you.

Your mind whirls as you finish up your shift, eyes glazed over while slipping on your coat and gathering your things from your locker to make the long trek home before the train stops running. The other girls look off put. A few whisper and stare. The air is heavy with the implication that they know something you don’t. They must. You aren’t exactly in on the gossip.

What do they think you did?

Then again, you think as you brace yourself for the lurching and squealing of the metro, there isn’t any way to know what happened. Not unless one of the vampires tells you, and good luck prying any information out of one of them. Even if they tell you, they can just make you forget all over again.

How did you behave? Were you the same as always? Were you an entirely different person?

Some people forget themselves when under compulsion - every inhibition thrown to the wind carelessly. You need your inhibitions. They keep your job secure and yourself safe. You can’t afford carelessness.

The walk back home is tense. That small bulk in your pocket burns a hole though you as your mind runs with every possibility of what might have happened. What you might have done to earn such a massive tip. It can’t have been dignified, could it? There’s no way they just like you. That’s not how vampires are. Then again, at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter. They liked you enough to pay you. There isn’t any point in trying to dissect such a simple transaction beyond that.

It takes everything to motivate yourself to actually take off your clothing and jewelry before falling into bed. However long they had you, it drained you. Left you tired and shaky as you crawl under the thick bundle of quilts that make up for the lack of heating in your home.

Your eyes meet the wad of cash that barely fit in the inner pocket of your coat. It feels like a threat. Use me well or lose me forever! Make me count because you’ll never see me again!

For now, at least, you can bask in the simple victory of it.

banner by @the-aesthetics-shop

[wwilloww]

sh. | chapter twenty two | pjm

PAIRING ot7 x reader RATING Explicit. 18+. GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC 4.8k WARNINGS AND TAGS no use of gendered pronouns to refer to reader. consensual objectification. d/s dynamic. over the panty sex (is this just called dry humping?) fucktoy-ification? teasing. orgasm denial.

AN hi :) i'm so sorry i made you wait so long for this. it's been a rollercoaster these last two years, and i hope you can forgive me for my long absence. if you enjoyed this chapter, i'd love to hear from you: what stuck out to you, what you're hoping will happen in future chapters, or just how you've been. i've missed you. and, as always, thank you for reading <3

← || series m.list || →

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: RULE BREAKER

You don’t talk or think much about your childhood. You like to imagine that when you turned eighteen those years whispered away into the ether of time, as irrelevant and dusty as the old photobook that stays on the shelf, eternally unopened. 

As a child, home was multiplied and many. It was the many places you lived, as you moved often, following your father around with his job. But it was also many in the sense that you learned at a young age that home didn’t have to be a place you lived. Home was between the worn and finger-marred pages of the books you fell in love with, home was the wisping scent of fresh (if not often burnt) pastry in your grandmother’s kitchen each time you visited, home was the place you yearned to travel to but never made the time to visit. 

But as you close the book in your hands, the words echo in your mind: 

Are you going to come home? 

You feel far away from home, even though you find a great deal of comfort in the walls of Namjoon’s mountain house. Ahem, mansion. Confusion riddles little holes of worry through you. Where is home, anyways? The small apartment you left empty in the city? The question opens a void in you. Why bother with home anyways? Sure, home could be anything if you tried hard enough, but couldn’t the opposite be true too? That if you tried hard enough, you wouldn’t need a home?

Still, void and all, the question nudges you. 

Unsettled, you clamber down the tree and make your way back towards the house. The sun has risen higher in the sky and breaks through the chill ever so slightly. Worried that you’ve just abandoned Jimin this morning and that he’ll wake up alone, you quicken your pace. You creak the door open, waving at Jungkook and Jin and Taehyung in the kitchen, who are huddled over the coffee, waiting for it to finish brewing. 

“A watched pot never boils,” you call out to them, noting that Jungkook looks a little cheerier than he had the past several days. Jin’s hand rests on Jungkook’s lower back and a little wave of joy jolts through you as the older man throws you a little smile. 

“Watching it actually makes it go faster,” Jungkook says, his eyes glued to the coffee. “A little motivation and encouragement always lends a helping hand.” 

You smile at that and continue making your way towards Jimin’s bedroom. You pass one room—a gym of sorts filled with a few cardio machines, a set of free weights, and a large mirror, and you’re surprised you didn’t notice it before—and pause. 

Namjoon is spotting Hoseok as the latter bench presses what looks like an unreasonably heavy weight. 

As you watch them, the dream from last night floods back to you. 

The music filtering through the night. The tightness of each man’s grip on you as they spun you through the ballroom, the floorboards creaking beneath you, the high of attention sitting heady in your chest. 

And too, you can’t forget, the way they stared at each other in single-minded competition, hackles raised, teeth gritted. You can’t forget the darkness that swirled at their feet, and you wonder too, if you’re letting your dream drift into the world of the living too.

But here they are, fondly smiling at one another. Had you made it all up? Well, of course you made it up. It was a regency-era dream for god's sake. But the tension? The competition? As Namjoon helps Hoseok lower the weights to the bar and hauls him to his feet, you’re sure it’s all in your head. 

“Nice, man,” Namjoon says, grinning and clasping Hoseok on the back. 

Before they see you, you continue on. Just as you’re about to open the door to the bedroom you’ve been searching for, it swings open before you. Jimin steps out. 

“Oh. You’re awake!” you say.

“I am indeed.” 

“I’m sorry I left this morning—“ 

“It’s okay,” he says, but there’s a tinge of sadness in his voice, a little dust mote of it that you catch. 

“I went to go read in a tree,” you offer quickly as an explanation, hoping it will make up for the disappointment of waking up alone after not spending a night together in a while. 

“In a tree?” 

“In a tree,” you confirm. 

He chuckles. “That seems like a good enough reason to abandon me. I gotta be honest though—“ He steps closer, lets his gaze flicker down, and toys with the hem of your shirt. “I was looking forward to waking up beside you.” 

“Were you?” you smile. 

“I was. I was even looking forward to potentially getting to wake you up.” He says it with a mischievous grin. 

“Oh? And how would you have woken me up?”

His hand drifts lower, beneath the band of your leggings. “You know, it’s really easier to show you, rather than tell you—” His hands pause. “What’s this?” Jimin sends you a knowing look. 

“What?” Your mind sputters as you struggle to come up with what he might be talking about. But he steps closer to you, a hand drifting down to your hips, a finger pulling your shirt up. With his other hand he plucks at the band of your panties. 

“This,” he emphasizes. 

“Oh.” 

You’d nearly forgotten the promise you’d made to Jimin. But now it all comes rushing back, how he’d made you promise in those early days in the house to forgo any underwear. At the time it’d been a silly dare, but the seriousness in his eyes makes you reconsider. 

“What? Do I have to remind you every day?” he says gently. “Or perhaps I haven’t been spending enough time around you, and you’ve forgotten your promise to me?”

“N-no,” you say. “I mean maybe. Maybe I want you around more.” You sidle up to him, running a finger up his chest. “Maybe… I want you to remind me.” 

Jimin steps closer to you, pressing you against the bedroom door. You gasp when he leans in close, close enough to kiss you, but doesn’t. 

“I think you forget too quickly that  I told you there’d be a punishment if you ‘forgot’ about our little rule.” 

“Oh?” You tilt your head as you look at him. “What kind of punishment?” Panties or not, it seems like you win. 

“Like I mentioned earlier, I think I’d rather show you than explain it to you. Let’s just say I’m a hands-on kind of teacher.” 

You think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he presses close, his lips a centimeter away from yours, his hands cupping your cheeks before wandering down to explore your body. You reach for him, struggle to bring his lips to yours, but he shifts his attention elsewhere, leaving you hanging. His hands rove over your body, his lips dip out of reach. So you change your plan of attack too. You let your hands wander over him. When you feel his breath quicken against you, you release him, dipping your head below his chin.

You glide your lips down Jimin’s neck, slow and intentional; a calculated move. You let your breath whisper against his skin, and you can’t help but think back to that night with Yoongi and Namjoon in which sensation—even the lightest of touches—had meant so much to you. To your body. You want to play Jimin like they played you. 

His hands tighten in your shirt, knuckles whitening. 

“Inside,” he gasps, and the desperation in his voice makes you think that he’s lost a bit of his fine-tuned control. His eyes are blown wide. He looks like he could eat you up. “Inside,” he repeats, but enacts the command himself as he pulls you through the door with him, making it sound a little more like a plea than you think he intends.

The pair of you tumble onto the bed, a mess of limbs and lips, teeth, hands. 

He captures your lips, finally, kissing you. The kiss is anything but gentle, nearing the edge of pain, his teeth knocking against yours, nipping at your lips. You groan into his mouth as his hips cant against you. 

It’s not long before he begins to tug at your clothes. 

Then he pauses, lifting your head from his lips. You’re sprawled atop him and you lift yourself up on your hands. 

“What?” you inquire curiously.

“I’m going to ask you to do something.” 

“Alright.”

With a leveled gaze, he says, “Strip.” 

He pushes you off of him, and you kneel at the foot of the bed, pausing a second, before making the executive decision to stand and undress. It’ll be more, well, graceful that way, you think. The alternative is flopping around on the sheets like a beached hammerhead shark trying to get your pants off. 

So you do as you’re told. There’s something about undressing before him, as he leans back against the headboard, watching you. There’s something about undressing for him, while he watches on, his gaze drinking you in that has sparks running through your body.

Slowly, slowly you slip off your top, and wiggle your leggings off your legs. You try to make it a little sexy, glancing up at him from time to time, to find that warm darkness swirling in his gaze that you love so much. You trip once, because you’re staring too much. 

“Keep the panties on,” he says when you go to pull them down.  

“Oh. Okay.”  Your brow furrows and you can’t help but let a little bit of the disappointment you’re feeling into your voice. You’re a little confused why he would ask you to keep them on when they were the problem that started all of this. 

He stands then, walking towards you. You hold your breath. He finally arrives before you and places his hands on your hips. His fingers toy with the trim of the panties, and goosebumps race along your skin from the delicate touch. 

“What are you going to do?” you ask, your voice breathy.

“You’ll see.” 

With that he hooks a finger under the band of your underwear and lets it snap against your skin. You cry out, more in surprise than anything else. 

“Did that hurt?” 

“No, not really.” 

“Good.” He grins. “Now, I want you to be honest.” 

“I’m always honest.” You correct yourself: “Most of the time. Most of the time I’m always honest.” 

Jimin chuckles at that. 

“Fair enough. But I need your most-of-the-time-always honesty now.” You nod, your hand drifting upward to grip his forearm. 

“Of course.” 

“I want to try something out with you. Something new.” 

“New?”

“A new kind of play.”

Your mind reels with the possibilities. What could he possibly suggest? Chastity kink? Tittyfucking? Technojizz? Ballcuzzi?  

“I want to use you like a toy,” he whispers. “I want to fuck you like a toy. I want to talk to you like a toy, treat you like one.” Your eyes widen when he says it. His eyes go wide too, drinking in your every microexpression, as he waits for you to respond. 

“A toy?” 

“Yes.”

“Where did this come from?” you say it with a little smile, and trace your finger along his jawline. He relaxes at the touch. 

“I saw the way you reacted during group play. When Jin was talking to you, saying things like, ‘You want to be our slut. You want to be our whore.’” Just hearing Jimin repeating Jin’s words sends a shiver through your body. “He didn’t say it like I would have said it, but I knew he wanted to.” He presses his lips to your ear while his hands rove over your body. “You want to be our toy, don’t you?”  

The answer is easy. “Yes.” 

“You want to be used by us, don’t you?” 

“Y-yes.” 

He chuckles. “That’s what I thought. So tell me. Tell me what you want to be.” 

“I want to be your toy.” 

“Good.” He grins. 

He lets his hand drift down to your underwear again, fingers trailing along the inside the elastic hem before plucking at them once more. He seems to like the way you flinch. 

His fingers wander down your skin. He traces your hip, before flicking his fingers beneath the hem that circles your thigh. Slowly, he creeps closer to where you want his fingers most, but before he can touch you, he pulls his fingers away. You nearly groan, and a fleeting grimace crosses your face. Jimin catches it. 

“Patience would look so pretty on you,” he says, and the sting of his words is delightful. 

“Hmph.” 

His fingers continue to explore the thin piece of fabric that separates you from total nudity. They’re not a particularly pretty pair of underwear: they’re nothing more than a tan color brief. 

You say as much to Jimin, and tell him you wish you were wearing something sexier. Lace, maybe. Something black. 

“True,” he replies. “But you know why I like these?” 

“Why?” 

“Because I can see you dripping through them.” 

You warm at the implication.   

“And when I push my cock against them, I’ll see me on them too. I’m a visual man, you know.” He kind of chuckles at that last bit, like it’s some sort of inside joke with himself. 

When he drops to his knees, like that first day in the forest with him, you gasp. Finally, finally, he’s going to touch you. 

But when his tongue presses against you through the fabric of your underwear, it’s only half the sensation you need from him. Still, it feels good, a gentle warmth spreading through your abdomen as he licks and presses against your clit and vulva. 

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against you. 

“I’m—“ 

“You’ve soaked your panties through.” 

You warm at the thought, such little stimulation getting you so ready for him. You wonder if he’ll fuck you hard and fast or if he’ll take you sweet and slow. If he’ll take his time with you. Whatever he decides to do, you know you’ll be happy to have him fill you as you currently clench and tighten around nothing. It’s an empty feeling that sifts through you. 

When he’s thoroughly soaked your underwear with his mouth, he stands and kisses you. You can taste the ghost of yourself on him, and it reminds you of the smell of first summer light hitting the ground at dawn. A space when it is neither day, nor night, but some third plane of existence. Like that, in this moment, you feel like some third kind of creature. Neither yourself entirely, nor Jimin, but some other, third thing that you could only become in his presence. You can feel the shit-eating grin that glides across his lips and presses into yours as he walks backwards, leading you back to the bed. 

There’s something different, too, about all of this, about the way he kisses you today. There’s an edge of desperation, of frustration that you can taste on him. His movements are quicker, less languid. His lids are lidded. His breath comes quicker.  It’s delightful. 

But it’s also brand new. It feels like he has let a part of himself loose from under his usual state of control, and you wonder if your most recent conversation with your friends—where you discussed emotionality and feeling—had anything to do with what he was going through. What he wanted. 

An edge of anxiety tickles at your throat as you think of it. Does he want something more? 

He seems to notice your hesitation. 

“I just want you right now,” he says, as if he’s read your mind. He stops you at the edge of the bed, turns you so that the back of your knees hit the mattress.  You’re not sure if he’s a mind reader or what. 

You fall back into the bed, Jimin leading you down gently with a hand against your back until you sink into the soft bedding. You can’t help but giggle at the gentleness. Not that you have anything against it, but in this moment you feel anything but a toy. The way he looks at you makes you feel, well, precious. 

He breaks his gaze to kiss you again, tongue pressing against your lips. 

“Open up for me,” he says. “Like a good kitten—Like a good toy.” 

You do as you’ve been told, opening your mouth and letting him swirl his tongue through you, swiping at the roof of your mouth and sending tingles down your spine. 

His hands drift down your body before slipping beneath your panties. You glow, so eager for his touch, groaning as his fingers swipe against your clit. Just once. But as if he’s just realized a mistake he’s made, he rapidly pulls his hand out. 

“Oops. Got a little caught up.” 

You pout. “What, you’re not going to touch me like that? There? At all?” 

He pulls back enough to flick his gaze between your eyes and your lips. “Be a good toy and just do what you’re told.” 

“Oh?” The bratty part of you flickers and rises up.

He silences you with a kiss, his fingers circling around your clothed entrance before trying to press in through the thin fabric of your underwear. It’s like he’s trying to finger fuck you through the wet cotton, pushing it into you with his fingers. The pressure surely is something, but it’s not even a hint of enough, and you find your hips bucking up against him, seeking more attention, seeking more pressure. 

“So needy. So desperate.” 

He continues until the yearn within you aches.

“Stop playing,” you gasp. “Just give me your cock. Want you. Want your cock. I’ll be your toy, just–just use me like one.” 

“Don’t good toys say please?” 

“Please, sir.”

He freezes above you. 

“Sir?” 

“I—I… It just slipped out!” 

He grins. “I kinda like it.” He hums, as if contemplating it, then nods. “And since you’ve asked so nicely—“  

Jimin leans back enough to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time, while the knot in your belly begins to recede. You sit up, eager to help him out of it, but he quickly swats your hands away. 

“Patience, kitten.” 

You don’t say it, but your crossed arms and pout say, “Fine, sir,”  loud and clear. He laughs at your expression. 

“Don’t you worry,” he says, tilting your chin up. “I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I?” 

He takes his cock out, stroking it once, twice, his hand gliding expertly over the soft and sensitive skin. 

“I’m going to use you like you’re good for.”

“Like I’m good for?” You echo, desperate for him. 

“All you’re good for,” he whispers in your ear and the words send a shiver of pleasure down your spine.  

With one hand, he takes your ankles and pushes them over your head.

“Hold them.” 

He then settles between your legs, hand wrapped tightly around his cock. With a movement that seems far too familiar to him, he slaps your pussy with his hard and dripping cock, and you groan. Fuck. 

Lowering himself to you, so your thighs press into his shoulders, he finally aligns his cock with your clothed vulva. 

And then with one careful movement, he grinds against you. The simple movement is enough to make you cry out. 

“Fuck, Jimin.” 

At first it’s slow, his cock pressing against your vulva in rhythmic pulses, your clit. At one point he pulls back and presses the head of his cock to your clothed entrance and presses in. 

You whine against him, but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He simply returns to continuing his thrusts. You’re just as wet as he is hard, soaking your panties, his precome painting them too. 

“Maybe I would have woken you up like this. Wouldn’t you have liked that? Waking up to my hard cock pressing against your clit, me ready to come, just from rutting against you? Wouldn’t that make you happy, to know how good you make me feel?”

You look down to where your bodies are pressed together. His cock rhythmically pokes up, the head dark and heavy. Sometimes though, the head of his cock gets stuck on your underwear, pushing the fabric higher and tighter around you. You groan at the sight. 

“Don’t you love how good you make me feel?”  

Your hips buck together, finding a desperate, shared rhythm. Your breath, too, matches up. 

For a moment, your eyes lock. All you can think about is how damn pretty he looks when he fucks, his dark hair falling into his face, his cheeks flushed, his plush lower lip caught between his teeth. And he looks back. 

But then his eyes flicker away from yours. 

He fucks you over your panties, murmuring how good of a toy you are for him, how he wishes he could fuck you properly, fill you up.

“Please,” you gasp, desperate for more. “Fuck me.”

“When you behave,” he grunts. “I will.” Another thrust. “When you follow my rules, I will.” 

When he comes, he presses the head of his cock to your clit. You can feel it twitching against you as he groans and sighs, his come painting your panties white. 

With the head of his cock pressing so rhythmically against your clit, you’ve built up to a delicious pleasure, so close to coming. 

“Jimin, Jimin, I’m so close. Please.” Your hips tilt up, searching out the pleasure he keeps denying you. 

But Jimin just grins at you and sighs dramatically. His breath still comes a little quickly, he seems a little winded.  

“If only you hadn’t been so intent on misbehaving earlier. Maybe I could have let you come.” 

“Oh, come on,” you groan, about a second away from throwing your fists on the bed in proper tantrum form. “You’re in charge. You write the rules. Who said you can’t let me come?” 

“The rules I wrote say so, actually.” 

You huff. 

“Well then. Maybe I’ll just have to take care of it myself.” 

In a swift action, Jimin leans over you, pinning your hands above your head. Your breath leaves your lungs in a quick gasp. 

“Wha—” 

“I think you know you’re not even supposed to be thinking about that, let alone doing it.” 

You tilt your head.

Jimin laughs, a hint of playful hardness in his voice. “Don’t you remember?” You shake your head. “You’re forgetting all of your promises today, aren’t you? Jin had you promise that you wouldn’t be coming unless it was because of one of us.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“Shit. I forgot.” 

“I know you forgot.” 

You throw your head back and groan. “But I thought you said you’d always take care of me.” 

“I did. And I do. But sometimes it’s good for you to wait a little for your reward. Today you took your punishment—” He tilts your head up so you’re looking at him and the pout that had taken over your face fades a little. “And tomorrow, I’ll give you your reward.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Fine.”

“You think you can do that? Wait until tomorrow?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh. 

“You’re so good for me,” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips. His hands glide down to your hips, dipping beneath the band and you think, oh, maybe he’ll do it now. But your hopes are quickly dashed when he tugs on them and says, “Maybe it was a good thing I had you wear these afterall.” He shimmies your come-stained underwear down your thighs. “Easy cleanup.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that, always surprised when Jimin’s practical side pops out alongside his gregariousness. But he balls the panties up, and before tossing them into the laundry basket near the door, holds them up in his hand, shaking them, as if directing attention to them. 

 “I should remind you why I asked you to do this?” 

“I know why you asked me to. You liked the secret of it—?” You think back to what he had said to you, all those days ago, though it feels like a lifetime ago:

“I like walking around, knowing I’m the only one who has your sweetness on my tongue. I love talking to the others while getting to taste you still. Getting to remember the way you squirm underneath my touch. I do it because I want to.”

You still shiver, thinking of those words. But that had been before everyone knew about you and Jimin. 

“I did like the secret of it,” Jimin says, breaking through your reverie. “But there’s more than that, too.” 

You raise an eyebrow, prompting him to go on. 

“There’s knowing you do it for me.” 

He grins, before strutting to the bathroom. You watch his ass as he goes. Plump, you think. When he returns, he’s cleaned up and still grinning. Mulling on what he’s said—”for me”—an image of all eight of you on the living room floor arises. What are the boundaries between one person and another with this set up? What are the lines? What is owed? Your head spins, and you settle into the pillow. You’re still humming in the sensation of your dwindling pleasure, receding far away from your orgasm, and you sigh. 

“If the only way people are going to punish one another around here is by giving them blue balls, I’m going to get tired reeeeal quick,” you murmur to yourself.

“Is that so?” Jimin says from behind you as he collects your clothes. “If that’s the case, we better start coming up with new forms of punishment.” 

“Yes, maybe you should,” you say, mock-grouchily. 

“I’ll start thinking up new and innovative ways. Maybe I’ll consult Jin—he seems creative when it comes to this stuff—especially if you’re going to be so quick to forget what you promised him.” He helps you into your clothes again, but remains naked himself. 

“But—” 

“No buts.” He seals your silence with a kiss. “Just do what you’re told.” The statement stings through you like a bolt of electricity. As much as you hate to admit it, you love when he tells you what to do. Even if you love fighting against it just as much. “You know why you should do what you’re told?” He continues, as he kisses down your throat.

“Why?” 

“Because then I can reward you. I can make you come again and again until you’re crying to stop, or hold you at the edge long enough that when you’re finally ready to tip over, it’s the best fucking orgasm in your whole life.” 

You can’t help but giggle. “Are you saying you’re the best fuck of my life?” 

“No. Not yet. But I can be.” He pulls away from you enough to see the shit-eating grin on your face. 

“I think some of your friends might fight you for that position.” 

“Maybe they should.” 

“Maybe they should what?” a voice comes from the door. 

“Hoseok—” 

Hoseok stands in the doorway, a confused look on his face. You imagine what he must be seeing, a naked Jimin in bed, and you, now entirely naked, too, now that Jimin stripped you of your panties, tangled up in each other. 

“What’s going on here?” Hoseok asks. 

“Do you really want to know?” Jimin asks.

“Um. Not really.” Then his gaze focuses on you. He lingers on your face, reading you, trying to figure you out. But then he catches himself. “Uh, maybe I should come back later.” 

“No!” you say, perhaps a little too eagerly, sitting up. “What is it?” 

“I just was looking for you,” Hoseok says, a little shyly. “I was hoping to steal you away.”  

“Let me get dressed.” 

You stand up, and pull your clothes back on, noting how Hoseok’s gaze flickers to you just in time to see you pull on your leggings without any panties on underneath.  

Jimin sits up quickly, pulling a pillow over his crotch for the sake of Hoseok’s modesty. “Just so you know—if you’re going to go together—I already said that if someone was going to wear panties that someone wasn’t going to be able to come.” He turns to you. “So don’t you go running off to lover boy, thinking you can get your rocks off.” Jimin turns his attention back to Hobi. “This one is very much not allowed to come. At least for the rest of the day.” 

Hoseok coughs. 

“Oh, I, uh, I wasn’t, I wasn’t presuming.” 

“Yes you were, asshole,” Jimin laughs. “We’re all presuming.” 

Hoseok flushes red all the way to the tips of his ears at the implication, but you find it charming. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Hoseok says.

You glance at Jimin, who leans back with his hands laced behind his head. He looks like the perfect image of relaxation and… is that pride? There’s a soft smile curving at the corner of his lip, a kind of jesting smirk. 

“Go on,” Jimin says. “I’m already taken care of.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Asshole.” 

But you stand and make your way to Hoseok nonetheless. 

“You have time?” he asks.

“I have all the time in the world.” 

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[themorningsunshine]

Pancakes

Pie eyed over you - Chapter 4

Mafia - Baker AU

Masterlist                        Series Masterlist

Previous Part

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Implied smut, Making out, wounds, brief mention of first aid, fluff and angst 

Word count - 5.9k

a/n - I really tried writing smut for the first time for this chapter, but realised soon enough that it’s not my cup of tea. Alteast not yet. Maybe some other time. Till then, please let me know what you think :) 

(I couldn’t find a more accurate gif. It in no way represents the reader) 

"y/n, y/n!"

Wanda's voice and her brisking past you to switch off the coffee machine brought you off the hole you were glaring into the wall with your stare.

Your feet walked on your own as you picked up the cup and walked towards the elderly woman, handing over the cup, a smile plastered on your face.

"Are you okay, dear?" The elderly woman, Mrs. Hudson, asked in a gentle voice.

You nodded your head and with a more convincing smile at her concern, replied, "Yeah, yeah, I am totally fine, Mrs Hudson. Just a lot on my mind right now."

"You have to take care of yourself, child. How else will I get the best coffee in the world?"

You chuckled before replying, "Don't worry, Mrs Hudson. You and this town aren't going to get rid of me this easily."

She gives you a wider smile and with small steps, carries her cup and box outside. You wanted to help her and make sure she reached home safely, but after all these months, you just know how stubborn she can be.

"Y/n, you seriously need to take care of yourself. You look tired."

You dismiss Wanda with a shake of your hand, you knew you were tired. You felt tired. But it had nothing to do with the bakery or your chores, you knew it and if nothing else, they were a pretty good distraction from what had been plaguing your mind for what felt like forever now. "I am fine, Wan. Don't you worry about me? You have got enough on your plate." And you meant it. Ever since Wanda gave birth to the twin boys, she had been super busy and the both of you hardly got any time to hang out together, but you understood. She was a mom now. She would eventually take out some time for the both of you, and she did. If the shopping bags and the skip in both of your steps were any indications, she came back for a wonderful girls' day out after all.

"I am never going to stop worrying about you, y/n. It's kind of my birthright." She noted before picking up a cupcake from the shelf.

After a moment of comfortable silence and a couple of customers, when you found yourself lost in your thoughts once again, Wanda spoke up. "Come on, y/n. I know it's been a month and that's a pretty long time, but you need to stop thinking about the worst-case scenarios. Maybe he is safe and sound, and you are just worrying yourself over nothing."

You sighed. You knew she was right but there was absolutely nothing that could calm down your nerves. "I - I don't know, Wan. That day, Steve said it was an emergency. They sounded so worried. And I have got no damn idea about what it even was about."

"What emergencies would mechanics have that could take a month?" Wanda asks with a furrow. The first time she had met James, flashed back into her eyes. She knew something had not been right about him. She just couldn't pin out what. She didn't want to tell you and worry you about it if it was nothing.

"I - I think something is not right, Wan. I think there is something huge he isn't telling me." Your throat contracted as the words left your mind. You had been thinking that for quite some time now. But giving voice to your suspicions and putting them out there, was a different deal altogether. It wasn't just a thought running into your mind anymore.

"You think he has been lying to you?" Wanda whispers, her heart sinking in her chest at your dejected expression. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve lies or even half-baked truths and it hurt her so much that she could do nothing about this.

"I don't know. I mean, he could lie to me, right? It's not like he owes me anything. He could straight up one day decide to never show up at the bakery again and there is absolutely nothing I could do about it."

"But he wouldn't do that. You know it." She puts her hand ahead to try to comfort you.

"Then where is he, Wan? Where has he gone for one month without a single word? And hell, I can't even ask around if someone has seen him, because guess what, he is supposed to be nothing to me." You half screamed with exasperation. You wished it wasn't this way. You wished that he hadn't just gone without any contact for a month and you wished that it didn't hurt this much. You wish you could just care less.

"But is he? Is he nothing to you, y/n?" She asks, knowing the answer all too well, but she needs to hear it from you. But your silence and the slight tears brimming in the corner of your eyes are an answer enough for her.

She puts her hand around you to comfort you before stating what has been obvious to her for a long time now. " You're in love with him. "

You suddenly take a step back, running your palm on your face, before replying, "What? No, no, no. That's not true."

There is a pang in your chest that tells you otherwise. The way the bakery hasn't just been the same since he left tells you otherwise. The way your smiles haven't truly reached your eyes for the past week says otherwise. The way your eyes always instantly look at the door at the voice of the bell, hoping with everything you have that it's him, tells you otherwise.

But you wish to stay in denial for a little longer. You wish to ignore all the feelings James Barnes has ignited inside you locked up a little longer. Because for some reason, you knew that it could only lead to inevitable hurt, and you wish you could live in this blissful ignorance a little longer.

Wanda just puts her arms around you and engulfs you in a hug, muttering comforting words into your hair.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

It was a dead silent night.

The only thing illuminating his path were the few streetlights and lights of the shop that were still open.

Bucky flinches slightly as the wound on his face makes its presence known.

He knows he shouldn't be here. Maybe at work, informing everybody of the long mission, celebrating the fact that one of his biggest enemies is gone for good now, or maybe getting some medical care, but definitely not here.

But it has been too long, and if he doesn't see you right now, make sure that you're okay, even though he's the one who has been in near-death situations more times than he can count, he is not sure he will be able to breathe.

Maybe he should have stopped for a moment and thought about what he would tell you about the scars and the wounds, but right now, he was a desperate man.

As the bakery comes into view, he lets out a sigh of relief when he notices that the light is on.

You would be cleaning up after the day right now. Maybe, if he was lucky, you would let him just sit there for some time and not send him away from the door. After the radio silence he has given you for more than a month, he will deserve that, but he is not sure if he will be able to live with it.

When he reaches the bakery, he stops for a moment and looks inside.

There, you are. In all your glory, wiping the counter with a determined look on your face.

Bucky is stopped in his tracks. Just like the first night he had met you, he needs a moment to catch his breath, to look at you for a moment longer to convince himself that this is real. You are real.

To him, you get even more beautiful every time he looks at you.

As if on instinct, you look up from the counter towards the door, and your movements halt when your eyes meet the blue ones you had missed more than anything.

You stand there, staring at him for a minute, to make sure that this is actually true, that he was here and it was not just your mind playing games.

When you are finally able to get your feet to move, you walk towards the door to the bakery and pull the door open.

Bucky looks at you with a small smile on his face. Even after he had fought through literal hell the past month, the mere sight of you made it all better. It was like he had been lost into the sea for far too long and you were the first sight of civilization, of peace, of life.

But there is a slight fear in his eyes. He knows you had all the right in the world to just ask him to get lost, that after the radio silence he had put you through, he would deserve everything you had to say to him.

But he couldn't have expected what you did next.

You took hurried steps toward him and before he knew it, you brought your hands around his neck, engulfing him into a tight hug.

"James" You breathed his name as you held onto him tighter. You wanted to be angry with him, to let him know just how much he had worried you, to give him a chance to silence all your worries, but the second you saw him, all you could get yourself to care about was that he was here, and he was fine.

After the initial shock, Bucky brought his arms around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer and burying his face into your hair, letting your smell and the feeling of you pressed against him, engulf his senses.

He doesn't know what peace felt like, but he is pretty sure it feels a lot like this.

The both of you stay like that for a moment longer before anger comes sweeping back to you and you pull away.

"Where the hell was - " Your words die on your tongue at the sight in front of you. James' face is bruised and he looks like he has been through hell. He looks tired, and all the shine that you had started to associate with his eyes is completely gone now.

"Holy shit." You almost shout before bringing your hand towards his face to gently run your fingers over his bruises.

He flinches first before closing his eyes and leaning into your touch and you can't help but feel guilty for being angry with him when he has clearly been going through something.

"How did you get hurt?"

He bites his lip and slowly opens his eyes, but doesn't look at you, instead choosing to focus on your palm that's still resting on his face. "I - I got into an accident." He says, cringing at the way he hesitates. He used to be able to lie like a breeze. It was the easiest thing in the world for him. But there is something in your eyes and something inside him that's begging him to stop this. To just come clean and face the consequences. But he knows for a fact that once he does that, your hand wouldn't gently rest on his face like it's doing now, healing wounds that he didn't even know existed and you wouldn't be looking at him like that. Like he could ever in this lifetime be deserving of the affection of someone like you. And he realizes he needs it, maybe just for tonight, but he needs to live in a false lie.

You bring your hand away as his words settle in. There is a hesitation in his voice and a pang in your chest that tells you he's lying, even though you desperately want to believe him. You search for something in his eyes, anything that could convince you that he was telling you the truth, but you find nothing.

You look down, blinking back the tears that are threatening to spill.

You shake your head and then look up only to be met by his battered face and you take a deep breath before reaching out for his hand.

You needed to help him right now. If you knew something about James that was not a lie, it was that he could be extremely stubborn and he would never take care of the bruises himself. You could either wallow in self-pity or demand the truth later. For now, you take his hand in yours and pull him towards the stairs leading to your apartment.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩

Bucky very slightly flinches in pain as you put the tweezers down on the plate, his bare minimum reaction to everything you were doing would have been a concern to you but you knew just how strong he could be.

You look up at his face and feel relieved at what you see. The wounds weren't very severe and you were thankful for the first aid box you always kept tucked inside your washroom.

It had been almost an hour since the both of you stepped into the apartment. His wounds were all catered to now, including the ones on his chest and back.

He sat there, shirtless, in the kitchen of your apartment as you slowly looked after the bruises one by one, using everything you had not to stare at his bare chest. It really should be illegal for someone to be this good-looking.

You could see the scars where metal met skin and you couldn't help the pain that swept into your chest. You had gently run your fingers across them as if that would somehow relieve his pain and Bucky would never say it out loud, but it somehow did.

Not a single word had been uttered between the both of you since you stepped into the apartment. James had tried talking, anything that would make you look at him even for a fleeting moment but your sheer reluctance to meet his eyes made his words die on his tongue.

When you are finally done mending all the wounds, you keep the first aid box to the side and take a seat in front of him, still refusing to look at him.

James looks at you but is met with complete ignorance from you. He knows he deserves this, but he would apologize if you just gave him the chance. He finally decides to fill the silence that has surrounded the apartment for so long. "Sweets - "

"How did you get hurt, James?" You cut him off, looking up to look directly into his eyes for the first time that night, begging him through your eyes to be honest for this once. To just cease your fears and tell you whatever he is so adamant about hiding.

Please, please, be honest with me, James.

I want to be able to believe you, to be able to trust you, to love you.

Please, don't lie to me.

"I told you, sweets. It was an accident."

You feel the worry and hurt morph into anger. "And where were you the past month? Preparing for the accident?"

You watched as he shook his head, unable to meet your eyes and you could feel your stomach drop. You didn't want to do this, not right now. He was hurt, and tired and your heart was begging you to stop and save the little shred of hope left between the both of you, but you had to know.

James let out a sigh and closed his eyes before muttering, "Sweets, I told you. It's nothing."

You let out an involuntary humorless chuckle, before closing your eyes shut, "Why is it so difficult for you to be honest with me, James?"

Bucky closed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, anything to stop him from spilling out everything to you. You sounded broken, hurt and he mentally berated himself for making you feel this way. There's nothing more he wanted than to let it all out, to lay the pieces of his soul bare in front of you.

But he instead leans his head closer, his forehead brushing against yours, willing you with everything he has to Munster and everything he couldn't put into words.

You let a silent sob as your lips quivered and a tear rolled down your cheek. "I - I don't know, James. You were gone for more than a month and I had absolutely no idea where you were. I was worried, but I shouldn't be. You don't owe it to me to tell you where you were, you don't owe me anything - "

"That's not true." He interrupted, voice pleading, something that felt so foreign to him, but for you, he would do it. For you, he would get down on his knees if it meant you would stop hurting.  "I need you to know that that's not true, sweets. You have no idea how sorry I am that I couldn't reach out to you, but please, believe me when I say this, I would have if I could, 'cause it was killing me. Every single moment not spent with you, not knowing how you are is torture, a torture I am not sure I will be able to survive for long."

You let out a broken sob as he brought his hand behind your neck, gently pushing you towards him, your foreheads now completely leaning on each other, your breaths mingling and you involuntarily close your eyes.

The whole world ceased to exist at that moment. The both of you comfort each other with your mere presence. There were a lot of things unsaid, a lot of things unvisited, for that small moment right there, all that mattered was that you had found each other.

After what felt like an eternity, you let out your worst fear. Something that has plagued your mind for a long time now. "Sometimes, I - I feel like I don't even know you, James like all of this is a huge lie, a front that would fall apart someday."

You don't let him answer as you pull back and stand up quickly to turn away. You had to get away from there. The intimacy of it all, and how real it felt, filled you with dread now.

But before you can walk away from him, James's hand shoots up and grabs hold of your wrist. His hold is gentle, but firm, keeping you with him. He looks up and you see in his eyes how vulnerable he is. How important this conversation is for him, too.

He gets up and takes a step forward and your heart begins beating so fast, you are pretty sure he would be able to hear it.

You take a step back if only to save your heart from getting away, a meek attempt at postponing getting it broken by the man in front of you, the man who had held your heart for a long time now, only for your back to hit the counter.

As James took another step ahead and with nowhere to go, you saw in his eyes as several different emotions pooled through his blue orbs. The intensity of his gaze makes you look away.

He slowly brings his hand under your chin and makes you look up at him and you realize there is hardly a few inches of distance between the both of you. Your thoughts turn frantic and it becomes impossible to focus on your breathing.

"You know me, sweets. You know me in ways nobody has ever before."

He whispers the sentence as if it was something to be kept just between you two, his voice dripping with conviction and honesty. His eyes determined to make you believe every single word falling from his lips, which were now mere inches from yours.

He knows it's true. In all those times when everything became a little too much and he wasn't himself, even when he didn't even realize it, you did. You could read him like a book and it would have scared him if it wasn't for what came after. Your comforting words, your slight touches that made him believe that this world hadn't gone to shit just yet, that everything could still be okay. You didn't have to know what troubled his mind and plagued his nightmares but you made it all better and silenced the whisperings of his troubled mind nonetheless.

You know it's stupid, but you believe him. You believe every single word that falls from his mouth, and you realize the man in front of you was always going to hold a piece of your heart, even if he had no idea. Because he might have lied about something that you didn't know, but it didn't have to matter. Nothing else in the world had to matter if he kept looking at you like this.

His intense gaze falls from your eyes to your lips for a fleeting second and you would have missed it, if not for your sheer inability to focus on anything else but him at that moment.

Your breath mingles as he leans closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

The world stops spinning when his lips finally touch yours.

The silence around you explodes and a world of colors appears from behind your closed eyes.

Every thought in your mind is stripped out and replaced with him.

Just him

The kiss is gentle, soft, almost tender. All the things that have been missing from his life for as long as he could remember.

He doesn't just feel the kiss on his lips, he feels it in every fiber of his being.

The way his bones feel like they are on fire. Like his soul has finally found water.

Like every part of him that came from a dead star is alive again.

It is everything he has ever wanted. You are everything he has ever wanted.

he slides his hand to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as if even an inch of distance between the both of you was too much for him.

You encircle your arms around his neck, your fingers gently running through his hair.

You taste like coffee and cookies, and it's all exceptionally sweet and he wants to taste it all like a man who has been devoid of air for a long time.

When the necessity to breathe arises, you pull away. But James doesn't let you get too far, as he walks you toward the counter, trapping you between his arms.

Your lips are parted, still breathing heavily, when he leans in again. Now that he knew how your lips felt, he never wanted to be away from them for even a second.

This kiss is passionate and desperate, hands wandering, tongues desperately exploring each other's mouth, your back pushing against the counter.

James' hands get lower towards your thighs and he picks you up effortlessly placing you comfortably on the counter, stepping between your legs, not breaking up the kiss for even a moment.

He bites your lower lip and you let out a sinful moan, making all his blood run south.

He breaks up the kiss before bringing his attention to your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your exposed skin.

"James" You hiss out when he kisses that particular spot.

James suddenly stops and looks at you. You would think he didn't want to take this further had it not been for the desperate hold he had on your waist.

He looks into your eyes, not an ounce of hesitation in his eyes, before saying, "Tell me to stop."

You frown before he continues. "Tell me to stop, sweets and I swear I will, 'cause if you don't," He swallows before continuing. "I can't promise you that you will be able to walk tomorrow."

You are soaking wet, which is proof enough that you want this as much as he does, so you don't ask him to stop. Instead, you pull him towards you by his collar and press your lips to his in a passionate kiss giving him all the permission he needed.

He brings his hand under your thighs before picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, encircling his neck with your arms, holding onto him for dear life.

He walks the both of you towards your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*

The warmth of sun rays falls on your face as you slowly open your eyes.

The feeling of an arm splayed on your stomach makes your heart stop for a second before the memories of last night come sweeping back to you.

It all felt like a dream and considering just how good last night was, you would have actually considered it a dream if it wasn't for James' hand laying gently on your stomach while also effectively pinning you to the bed and the feeling of soreness between your legs.

But you didn't mind. Not when he had taken you apart more times than you could count last night, leaving you a mumbling mess every single time.

You look to your side and your eyes land on his sleeping form.

With gentle hues of the sunlight sweeping its away through the window and onto his face, he looked dreamy, ethereal and you couldn't help but stare at him.

It was still early into the morning but you knew you would have to get up soon enough, so, in a desperate attempt to engrave this memory into your head, you brought your fingers to his face, gently touching his cheek, his stubble a little rough under your touch.

It is a tender moment for you. One in which you can engulf in your feelings for him a little longer, before facing reality, a reality in which he might never feel the same way.

You watch as his eyes slowly flutter open, immediately turning into a warm look when they land on you and you can feel your cheeks turning warm.

He smirks before saying, "I could get used to this."

You chuckle and take your hand away before he holds it in his and brings it to his chest. "Good morning to you too, James."

"Good morning, sweets." He leans in and places a light feathery kiss on your lips and it's already the best start to a morning you've ever had.

When he leans back, his eyes never leaving yours, you attempt to get out from under his hand to get the day started, but he doesn't move his arm an inch, effectively keeping you in the same spot.

"We both have got work to do, James." You tried your hardest to be stern but the way he looked with his bed hair and a carefree smile on his face made your insides melt.

"Nope, it's too early." He mutters, closing his eyes and pressing his face on your neck, his breath on your exposed skin making your skin tingle.

You chuckle before wrapping your hands around him, already drifting toward sleep and you feel him smile.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩

The sound of footsteps brings you out of your stupor and you flutter your eyes open.

The bed beside you is empty and before you could think much about it, a voice from the door brings a smile to your face.

"Good morning, sweets."

You turn your head towards James who is leaning at the doorway his arms crossed. He isn't wearing a shirt and even after last night, it doesn't stop amazing you just how perfect he is. Your eyes drift over his form, noticing how his sweatpants hang low. You shook your head, willing yourself to not let your mind go there.

"Like what you see?" He says, a smirk is evident in his voice.

You shrug before blatantly lying, "I have seen better."

He pushes himself from the doorway. He knew you were lying. The goofy smile on your face, and the blissful look you adorned told him everything he had to know.

When you hang your legs from the bed, about to get up, he told you to sit right there, before walking out of the room. Even when he was gone, you couldn't help the smile on your face. Your sheets smelled like him.

He came back a couple of minutes later, a mini table in his hand.

When he kept it in front of you, you gasped as you saw what was on it. There was a plate full of pancakes, a warm cup of coffee, and your living room flowers in a mug beside it.

You looked up and whispered under your breath, "James, you didn't have to do this."

"Are you kidding, sweets? God knows how many sweet meals I owe you. There are a little too many, but this is a good start.

You chuckled before leaning in and pressing your lips to his in a brief kiss.

You took a piece of the pancake and tasted it, doing everything in yourself to not let the grimace show on your face.

James was good at a lot of things. Intimidating people, physical strength, reading, shooting (apparently), knowing exactly what you wanted, and definitely sex. But cooking wasn't one of those things.  

"So?" He asked, squinting his eyes trying to gauge your reaction.

You smiled at him before shoving the piece down your throat. "It's amazing."

His smile widened before he leaned towards the plate. "yeah, I knew it. Let me taste it."

"No, no, you don't - "

You were too late as he took a bite of the pancake and gagged before spitting it out. "It's terrible."

He leaned again and took the plate away from you. "No human should be subjected to this."

You chuckled. "It isn't that bad, James."

He shook his head in disapproval.

The both of you had coffee (which was pretty good) with you telling him everything you had planned for the bakery that day.

Bucky looked at you talking and sipping coffee and couldn't help the grin on his face. Your messy bed hair, sitting in an oversized shirt, talking so passionately about something you loved, filled his heart with warmth.

It was all so peaceful. So serene.

And he might not accept it right now, but if he got to start his day exactly like this for the rest of his life, he wouldn't mind one bit.

Unable to help himself, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss.

You taste like fresh coffee and terribly baked pancakes, it's his favorite taste in the world.

You reciprocate the kiss with equal fever before realizing you were involuntarily slipping into his lap.

It took everything in you to break the kiss. "Nope, we both have got work to do."

You get up from the bed, walking away from him.

"Maybe I could convince you to spend the day in bed?" James said with a voice that made walking away almost impossible.

"It's not gonna be that easy, James." You said with a smirk before reaching the doorway and turning to look at him.

"Your underestimation of me hurts me, sweets." He said before getting up and walking towards you.

You took off from the doorway and ran towards the living room, giggling.

You hadn't even reached the sofas when you felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around you.

James picked you up from the ground, his bare chest pressing to your back before giving you a twirl and turning you towards him.

"Knew I'd catch you, sweets."

Your lips were parted breathing heavily as he brought his lips to yours, entering his tongue into your mouth. His hands pulled you by your waist bringing you closer, before reaching towards the buttons on your shirt.

You gasped as you felt his clothed length against your core, all your resolve fading.

The ringing of his phone became a background noise initially before jolting the both of you out of your haze and you reluctantly pulled back, pointing towards the kitchen counter he had kept his phone on the previous night.

James growled before stepping towards you again, choosing to ignore whoever it was who wanted his attention so badly.

But you leaned back, adamant about him picking up the phone. It could be important.

He stepped towards his phone, pressing it to his ears without checking the caller id.

Steve's voice bellowed against his ear and Bucky knew he was pissed. "Where the hell have you been, Buck? I have tried reaching you since last night."

"I was - I was in the middle of something, punk. Is this important?" He deliberately doesn't tell him where he is, wanting to keep everything between you for as long as he could.

"Of course it's important. We have a meeting with Stark in 15 minutes and you are not even here. This deal is important, Buck and you know, he doesn't like to wait."

"I don't give a shit about Stark, Steve. Why can't you or Sam handle this?"

"Because you know about these weapons more than any of us. I don't understand, you spent months trying to get this deal. What is something so important now?" Bucky could hear the suspicion rising in his tone.

"Fine." He sighed. "I will be there in 10."

He cuts the call before turning back and walking towards the kitchen, where you'd sneak off to give him some space to talk on the phone.

"Sweets, Steve called. I have to go." ��He sounded disappointed and regretful.

You tried to hide the disappointment in your voice before saying, "I told you we both have work to get to."

A moment of silence passed between the both of you, slightly awkward before he walked towards the bedroom to get dressed.

He walked back into the kitchen 5 minutes later, bid you goodbye, and walked towards the door.

He hastily turned back and took hurried steps towards the kitchen.

You looked up from the counter and frowned when you saw he had come back. But before you could utter a word, he pressed his lips against yours for a brief yet firm kiss.

"I was wrong, sweets. You are the best damn thing I have ever had."  He spoke with a smirk before walking back towards the door.

You felt red creep up to your neck and you were stuck in place for a moment before shaking yourself out of your thoughts.

For the rest of the day, you felt giddy, happiness settling inside you, making you feel like you were flying.

But here's the thing.

Flying felt a lot like falling till you hit the ground.

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[gurugirl]

Just For Tonight | Ch. 2

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Y/n's pretty sure she'll never see or hear from Harry again. They had a fun night but he made it clear that it was only just the once. Except Harry can't seem to follow his own rules.

Warning: 18+ only, smut

Word Count: 10,501

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

Having a night with Harry Styles was like having one of those hot-girl secrets that only the most privileged were in on. But what that also meant was that she couldn’t really go talking all about it to everyone either.

She would have loved to have posted on Instagram all about it. Bragged about having seen his cock and then having it inside of her. She would have loved to have seen Dyna’s face when she told her that Harry Styles had eaten her out and spanked her. Dyna was one of those acquaintances in her friend group who was smug and pretty but rude. Thought her shit didn’t stink.

And well, she never would tell anyway. Not only would she never brag about what she’d done with someone during sex, but she wouldn’t want to betray anyone that way.

But it was kind of a bummer that she couldn’t talk about it all. Ady drilled her for information and Y/n had already decided that she’d only spill the details to her best friend, whom she could actually trust. Ady was a work friend at best. She trusted Ady, but not with that kind of secret.

All Ady knew was that Y/n had spent the night with Harry Styles. And when she arrived at the office on Monday morning, half of her co-workers had already heard about it.

“That’s why I didn’t give you details, Ady. You shouldn’t be saying anything to anyone.” Y/n replied as she bit into her sandwich. Ady was trying to extract more information from her.

“But I would never tell anyone those details, Y/n! Come on. Just give me something. Any tattoos we don’t know about? Is his dick as big as everyone thinks it is?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and stood up from her chair, tossing the crust of her sandwich into the garbage, and completely ignoring Ady on her way back to her desk.

After a few days, the gossip had died down and Ady had pretty much given up. Y/n was glad everyone had stopped talking about it and asking her uncomfortable questions.

And while on the outside it had appeared Y/n had moved on completely, on the inside she couldn’t stop replaying the night with Harry over and over again.

Especially when she was alone in her bedroom at night.

Y/n had a housemate. She lived in a two-bedroom bungalow with a microscopic backyard, street parking, and the tiniest closet known to man. And still, she could barely afford to make rent each month. But Brad was nice. And he allowed her to pay a little late sometimes. She didn’t often pay late. Maybe a handful of times over the year.

But it also helped that Brad had a bit of a crush on Y/n. She didn’t want to be that person but it came in handy in this case.

“I’m so sorry. I get paid next Friday and I’ll pay you first thing. Just didn’t keep track of my spending again this month.” It was slightly embarrassing. She wasn’t careless about how she spent her money but that month she had the Harry Styles concert, bought a hotel room (which she didn’t even sleep in), and spent a little extra on her cute new bodysuit. She had saved up her money but overspent just a tiny bit. Okay so maybe she was a little careless with her money at times. And she was getting too old to keep living paycheck to paycheck. It was time to start putting money away.

And she couldn’t do that with her current job and all the bills she had on top of that.

Y/n was going to have to find a second job. Anything so she could get her footing and pay off some loans, and then maybe she could breathe a little.

“No worries, Y/n. I’m good for it until then.” Brad smiled. She could tell he was getting tired of it, though. And for that alone, the embarrassment of having to ask if he could cover her part for a handful of days and to see his expression of pity and probably a little bit of annoyance, yeah. It was time to find a second job.

Her cousin was the floor manager at a posh, expensive restaurant downtown that Y/n would have never dreamed of stepping foot into. Not normally anyway. But there was a job opening for a server spot that her cousin had casually mentioned a week prior. She didn’t know if the position had been filled or not and if they would give her that prime weekend shift but there was only one way to find out.

“Y/n! Hi! How are you?” Laren answered chipper and sweet.

“Hi. Uh… good! How are you?”

Small talk commenced before Y/n finally got into the nitty gritty of why she was calling.

“Oh? The server position? It hasn’t been filled actually. We’ve been interviewing, though. You should come in and apply. I can put in a good word.”

The position was for two weekday nights and rotating a Sunday and Saturday every other week with a draw for the occasional Friday night (the coveted night to serve apparently). It wasn’t ideal but she figured she’d at least apply and see what happened.

Y/n had been a server in college so she was familiar with the work. It was hard, stressful at times, but tips could be good with the right tables.

And part of her didn’t want to waitress again. She was already working 40 hours at her office job. This would leave her with very little free time. But she needed to do something because every time she thought about how she was late on rent again it made her cringe and flush hot with embarrassment.

The interview process was fairly painless. And the fact that her cousin already worked there seemed to be in her favor because the very next afternoon she was getting a call to come back in to begin training. She’d gotten the position.

And it was just as hard as she imagined it would be. Shadowing one of the servers felt strange. She started on a Tuesday night since it would be a relatively slow night. Rushing from her office job to get home, changing into her uniform, and then racing through heavy traffic to get to the restaurant gave her a good idea of how it would be for her on the nights she worked during the weekdays.

Her past experience was a blessing. She only needed to shadow for two weeks before they started letting her have her own tables. Everyone on staff was easy to get along with on some level.

She did learn, though, that Vyra was upset that they were letting her take a weekend night shift so early on. Vyra was also a server who’d been at The Dulcería for a couple of years and wasn’t allowed weekend shifts until she’d been serving for a while.

“Tell them I’ll take your ten top tonight. I don’t think you’re quite ready for the level of service you’ll need to provide.” Vyra placed her tray down and faced Y/n as she spoke.

Y/n had just arrived at the restaurant for her first weekend evening shift by herself. She didn’t even know she had a ten top as she’d only just walked into the door.

“I… okay, well, let me at least put my stuff down. I’ll talk to Mannie and find out what he wants before I ask for that.” She was already annoyed. Not ready for the level of service… Just for that comment alone, Y/n was going to make sure she kept the table and was the best damn waitress that ten top could ever have that night.

“I’m telling you that it’s going to be better for you to just give me the table. We’ll switch off. They’re gonna be here all night.”

Y/n put her purse in the locker and turned to look at Vyra, “How do you know they’re gonna be here all night?”

“Because the reservation was very specific about how long they would be here. Probably someone famous honestly. Just tell Mannie you’re giving me your section.”

Sighing as she clicked the lock into place and tied her apron around her waist she shook her head, “We’ll see.”

Y/n checked the schedule for the night and realized, the only table that she was assigned was the ten top Vyra had mentioned. Which was interesting. Looking at the name on the reservation it didn’t ring any bells for her as to who could be in the party that would require her to stay with them all night but she knew she could take care of the table on her own. Even if they were famous and picky and maybe demanding. There were only ten of them. And it was her only table.

After the first two guests had arrived and were brought to the table by the hostess, Mannie signaled to her to greet them at the table and get some drinks started.

“You didn’t tell Mannie to let me take over. You didn’t even ask. I think it’s in your best int–“

“I’ve got it, Vrya. I appreciate your concern but I’m fine. Really,” she spoke as she neared the private area of the dining room where her table was.

“No. I don’t think you understand, Y/n. You’re new at this–“

Y/n stopped abruptly and Vrya nearly ran into her, “Stop. I’ve waited tables before. And Mannie wanted me to have this one. Just… go back to your tables and give it a rest.”

The pair at the table were dressed extremely casually, which was unusual for the restaurant. Most people entering the doors of The Dulcería wore designer and dressed appropriately in smart casual.

“Hi. I’m Y/n. I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Would you like me to get you started with anything? Wine for the table or appetizers for when everyone else starts to arrive?”

The young woman at the table ordered three bottles of wine to start and a handful of appetizers. Easy enough.

When Y/n returned to the private area with a cart full of wine and water she stopped in her tracks. More of the party had arrived but now she recognized two of them. She blinked her eyes and swallowed as she felt her heart rate pick up before pushing the cart forward again and closer to the table. She could be seeing things, she told herself.

As she neared the party she honed in on the man with his back to her with chocolate brown curls and broad shoulders. Was this…? It couldn’t be.

And yet she was sure it was. Based on the fact that she was looking right at Jeff Azoff and his adorable wife Glenne… She gulped as she parked the cart at the edge of the room and plucked up one of the bottles of red wine to uncork.

Carrying the bottle and a glass of wine toward the young woman who ordered it, she was suddenly aware that all eyes were on her as she turned the label side out toward her. But before she could pour a taste sample the young woman pointed at the man with his brown curls at the other end of the table, “It’s his to taste.”

She let out a quick breath to ground herself and closed her eyes for only a moment before turning to see those bright green eyes already on her. The big grin on his face told her he recognized her immediately. Of course he did.

She smiled, taking a step back, and slowly walked toward Harry to give him the first taste of the wine.

Pouring the liquid into the glass slowly as she stood to his left Harry finally spoke, “I didn’t know you worked here. How have you been?”

Okay. A standard greeting. Even that alone got her heart aflutter. She wasn’t sure if he’d act like he didn’t know her or if he’d greet her kindly. She would assume the latter but of course, one never knows in these circumstances.

“I’ve been well. This is actually a new job for me. And uh, how about you? How have you been?”

Harry sipped the wine and nodded, “S’good. Thank you. I’ll have a glass of this one,” he cleared his throat while she poured a serving for him, “And yeah… I’m great. Thank you. We should catch up soon,” he leaned in closer and finished his thought, “Kind of wish I’d gotten your number.” He spoke the last sentence a little softer so only she could hear.

For the duration of the dinner it was difficult to have any kind of real conversation with Harry while she was taking orders and running back and forth but each time she returned Harry made sure to get in a comment or ask her a question. She noticed the looks from a few of the people sitting around the table.

Heading back into the kitchen to grab their meals she noticed Vrya walking toward her side of the restaurant where the private dining room was. By then, all the servers heard about who was in the private dining room. Most didn’t make a fuss about it but a couple of them were curious.

With the tray loaded she delicately walked back toward her guests and spotted Vrya next to Harry and chatting. Technically Vyra wasn’t allowed to speak to guests at Y/n’s table unless she requested help. It wasn’t a big deal normally, but since Harry was a celebrity, a famous pop star, it would be frowned upon. This wasn’t some Deux Moi tell-all Sunday sightings gossip rag. This was a posh, upscale restaurant where wealthy people and celebrities came to enjoy a quiet meal without being disturbed or spotted. Mannie was not going to be happy about Vrya taking it upon herself to check on Y/n’s table. She couldn’t wait to talk to Laren about Vyra as well. She wished her cousin was there that night so she could vent but she’d be calling her about this later.

Placing the tray onto the stand Y/n frowned at Vrya as they made eye contact, “I was just seeing if everything was going well. Since you’re new and all,” Vrya laughed and looked down at Harry, “Plus having such a big star here we need to make sure service is perfect.”

Harry smiled at Y/n, “Y/n here been more than perfect. You’ve nothing to worry about. I’m sure we all agree,” he gestured toward everyone at the table, “we are in the most capable hands here. Couldn’t be happier.”

The fake smile on the intruder was telling as Y/n began to bring dishes around the table, “Thanks for checking in on me Vrya. It’s unnecessary, though. I’ll call on help if I need it.”

Standing up straight and nodding at Harry she walked behind Y/n and whispered, “His water glass is low,” and then exited the room.

Y/n had no idea what she’d done that would have Vyra acting like such a child. She was polite to Vrya but she really wanted to yank her hair out and shove her out the window for sticking her nose into business that wasn’t hers. But she figured she was better off ignoring the whole thing.

“So, Y/n…” one of the guys at the table spoke up, “We hear that you and Harry met at a recent concert. How did you enjoy the show?”

She felt her neck get hot as she fumbled with the notepad in her apron pocket, “Oh… it was awesome. Yeah. I gave him a pair of sunglasses that he wore that night on stage. That’s pretty much how we met. Brought a co-worker with me. A blast. It was the first concert I’ve been to.” She smiled and then quickly corrected, “First Harry Styles concert that is!”

The look on Harry’s face was cheeky. He was holding in an obvious grin on his face as he gazed at her. She was a nervous thing in this setting. Harry remembered quite well how sure of herself and confident she’d been that night. How she was practically dominating him, leading everything that happened. Mostly.

And even though he made it clear that what had happened was just for that night, he realized he’d been fantasizing about her a lot since then. In fact, every time he touched himself his thoughts made their way to Y/n just before he could come. He hadn’t even slept with anyone since. Not that he’d been holding out for her or anything. He had been thinking about her a lot, though. Missing her even. He was quite delighted that she was his server and that he happened to meet her once again. It felt like fate maybe.

And Harry was a big believer in fate and the universe shifting and creating space and paths for humanity. He was a believer in karma and destiny and intertwined lives. And so because of that Harry was sure this meant something.

When the restaurant was shut down and the servers were calling it a night, Y/n was clearing the table and refilling the last of the wine for everyone. She was told not to rush them, and she had no intention of doing so. She was enjoying the table. Everyone was polite and easy to please. There were no difficult requests or off-the-wall dietary restrictions.

Though Harry was particular with his order (the man was clearly eating strictly healthy which made sense given the state of his body, which she was quite acquainted with) it was easy to accommodate. Plus his presence had set her in a good mood. He was gentle and sweet and everyone in his party was the same.

And the way Harry kept looking at her, as if he knew something she didn’t somehow… a teasing grin, slightly stifled… she was all nerves and butterflies and big smiles. It had been an amazing night at work. It hardly felt like work at all.

Exiting the bathroom after a much-needed bladder release she walked up the hallway but was stopped short when she heard his voice, “What are you doing after you get off?”

His deep rasp had her tummy boiling as she turned and saw him leaning against the frame where the hallway met the corner of the entry to the kitchen. Stepping back toward him she looked up at his sharp green eyes and shook her head, “Going home.”

That smirk, the one that hid what he was really thinking deep down slowly widened until he was grinning full-on, “Where’s home?”

Looking behind her and then over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby she squinted her eyes at him, “Why do you want to know?”

Harry sighed and softened his stance, putting his arms down to his sides, “Because. I was gonna ask a follow-up question and figured it might be important to know if my place is closer or yours.”

She let out a soft laugh in surprise and now her ears were growing warm, “At this hour… A fifteen-minute drive away.”

Harry nodded and reached a hand out to her apron, pulling gently at the bow, “Got it. Would you be interested in having me over tonight?”

Cocking her head and keeping her eyes squinted in scrutiny she responded, “And why would you want to come over to my place?”

She felt like this was obvious. She could have answered this question on her own. But she wanted to hear it from him. Wanted to be sure she was on the same page as him.

He leaned in and lowered his voice, keeping a finger looped into her apron’s bow, “Seeing you tonight has reminded me of how much fun we had. I know I said it was only a one-time thing but maybe we could make it a two-time thing,” he smiled broadly and shrugged.

Harry was a confident guy. He wasn’t typically turned down. In fact, on the rare occasion he was turned down it usually had nothing to do with him. So he was pretty sure Y/n would be happy to have him. But even as sure of himself as he felt, he was feeling his nerves peak at the idea she would say no.

“A two-time thing. Okay… well I do have a roommate. His bedroom is connected to the wall next to mine. Privacy is an issue. If you’re okay with that then I’d say… sure.”

Harry let out a laugh through his nose, though it was more out of relief than due to anything being funny, “What makes you think I want to be in your bedroom? Maybe I just wanted to stop by for a movie. Or we could bake cookies or something.”

Harry laughed at the obvious nonsense he’d just spewed. They both knew what this was.

“Oh? So you want to like watch a movie and bake some shit? I’m down with that. I don’t think I have the ingredients to make cookies or anything but I’m sure we could stop somewhere and grab flour–“

Harry pinched at her hip and stepped in close, “I was kidding…”

Now it was Y/n’s turn to laugh before she straightened her back as much as possible and put on a serious face. With his proximity, she was bent slightly back to look up at him, “You were? So you mean you don’t want to bake cookies with me?”

Harry’s grin and his hands at her hips were soft, “I don’t want to bake cookies with you. I want to get you in bed again.”

Well okay. There it was. She knew that’s what it was but to hear him say it out loud had her head spinning and her heart pounding.

She nodded, “Right. So… how do we do it? You want me to drive or…?”

Harry shook his head with a laugh, “Give me your number.”

.           .           .

Harry and his crew left before Y/n did. She’d given him her number and he texted her back right away. It was surreal. Just like how she felt the first time she met him. She almost didn’t believe it was happening.

Vyra was cold for the rest of the night but after the huge tip left, Y/n could understand why. Harry’s table had been her only table of the night. Her shift was only four hours but they stayed the entire time. She figured Vyra knew that some celebrities tipped well and wanted in on that.

In fact, the tip had been so big she had to sit down when she realized the number written in the tip line with a small smiley face next to it. She’d have a talk to Harry about this. It was far more than necessary. Even after splitting the tips up between the kitchen and the bussers in the system, it left her with enough money to cover rent and all her bills for a month. Yeah. Excessive.

She texted Harry the minute she parked her car in front of her house. It was well after midnight. She wasn’t sure he’d actually come, still in disbelief about it all. The fact that he was there and that she was assigned to that table felt like pure luck. Fate if you believed in that kind of thing. Which she didn’t. Not normally anyway.

His return text came back quickly.

On my way.

Quickly showering off her sweat and the smell of cooked food then shaving her legs she tried to calm herself down. The night with Harry in the hotel room she’d been perfectly groomed and ready for anything that might happen. Not that she expected it that night, but one never knows. Going to a Harry Styles concert and having the chance to catch his eye wasn’t something she’d half-ass. She never in a million years would have thought he’d have pointed her out while he was singing and then proceed to bring her back to his suite. But he did.

And this evening, she wasn’t fully groomed but smooth legs and clean bits were the least she could offer in such a short amount of time. She laughed to herself as she thought about it all. Wondered if he’d even care if she was a little sweaty. She wasn’t going to chance it.

When he texted that he was out front she took a few deep breaths and looked in the mirror one last time just to be sure before dashing to the front door as quietly as possible (so as not to wake Brad) to let the famous pop star into her small, rented bungalow.

She gestured to Harry with a finger to keep quiet, “My roommate is sleeping. Do you need water? The bathroom?”

Harry’s grin revealed that he needed only one thing. And neither had anything to do with what she’d just offered.

“I take it no baking cookies, then?”

They grinned at each other as she led him to her room.

Her bedroom was cute. She had cream curtains that draped down to the floor, a wooden dresser with a framed photo of Y/n with her family atop, a coaster from a local bar, a box that appeared to be a jewelry case, and a carton of tissues. Her bed was made and the comforter looked fluffy with a pretty pink and yellow flower pattern all over it. Framed prints of plants and flowers on her walls and a standing lamp in one corner. A closed door, which was definitely hiding a closet behind. A nightstand on either side of her bed.

“Cute,” Harry spoke as he looked everything over and then brought his gaze back to the woman he’d been fantasizing about since their last night together.

“Yeah. Uh… this is it.” She shrugged and felt her tummy warm up under his scrutiny. He was staring at her and she knew he was there for one thing only.

Sitting on her bed she sighed and attempted to lighten the mood, “So… that tip was way too big, Harry. I can’t possibly accept such a thing. I don’t think–“

Harry shushed her as he sat down and took her hand in his, “Nonsense. You are an amazing server and deserve every penny of that. Probably more even.”

His light eyes were scalding. Every inch of skin he took in she felt sizzle.

“Thank you. Just feels weird. Especially now that you’re here…” she laughed quietly.

“Now that I’m here? What do you mean?” His fingers wound into hers, his thumb moving along the edge of her hand. Such an innocent gesture, giving her goosebumps. Though she was well aware his intentions weren’t innocent.

“I mean… Like you just gave me a bunch of money and now you’re in my bedroom,” she smiled and tried to maintain eye contact but it was hard with how gorgeous he was.

“This is separate from that, Y/n. You should know that. I just missed you which is why I wanted to come here. You’re just really good,” he looked at the bed and then back to her, “You know… in this setting.” He grinned wide.

“In this setting?” She laughed at his words and shook her head.

The grin dropped from Harry’s face as he brought his free hand up to cup her jaw, “Can I kiss you? I missed these lips so much. I’ve been thinking of them since that first time with you.”

Nodding her head she felt him pull at her thigh just as his lips found hers.

Things had shifted since the last time she saw him. Somehow it felt a little different. Maybe more intimate in some way. It was probably because they were in her bedroom rather than a hotel suite, and this was the second time they’d be seeing each other in this context. But there was something else there too. She was feeling… less sure of herself. She still had the confidence she needed to kiss him back and unbutton his shirt, but unlike last time when she was feeling very forward, this time something kept her slightly reserved.

And Harry noted her softer demeanor. He didn’t mind it, though. In fact, this time he was feeling like he wanted to show her how good he could be. Give her a taste of him taking the lead and maybe have her begging him a bit. He was in a bit of a mood that night. He was glad that he saw her in the restaurant because it’d been a month since he’d gotten laid (and it just so happened the last person he’d had sex with was Y/n) and she was the only girl he could think of that would scratch the itch he had.

Y/n was pressed back into the mattress as Harry pulled her sweatpants off, “Do you want to feel good, Y/n?”

She nodded and puffed a laugh out, “Well… yeah…” She thought that was an obvious answer and the way she responded told Harry she was mocking him.

Harry paused the movements of his hands as he stuck his fingers into her panty’s waistband. He cocked his brow up at her in warning before he popped her thigh with a smack. She laughed and sat up with her mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Behave. I was just asking a question. Wanna try that answer again?”

She swallowed and blinked her eyes, “Yes, Harry. I want to feel good.” She smirked at him. Her answer was still lined with cheek but he’d give her a pass. He wanted to see her.

He smiled and nodded before proceeding to pull her panties down her legs, “Good. Because that’s what we’re here for. To feel good. Take your shirt off for me.”

Y/n was relieved that Harry seemed to pick up where she was lacking. She didn’t know what had her feeling so permissive but they seemed to be on the same page. She peeled her shirt off over her head and Harry spread her legs apart, fitting himself in between her thighs.

He was still mostly dressed. His shirt was unbuttoned and his jeans were undone. Both Y/n’s doing, but that was as far as it had gone with getting him out of his clothes before he stopped her and began to tell her he was going to get her naked.

“Can you take your bra off too? Need it all off.” He waved his hand toward her chest as he directed his sight to the space between her thighs. It felt so vulnerable to have him clothed while she was naked. But she did as he said and removed her bra for him.

The dim lamp in her room kept everything visible. Harry could tell she was already a bit wet. The gleam peeking out from her labia had his tummy on fire. He couldn’t wait to feel her again. Slip his cock right in and drive into her. He imagined he’d need to keep her mouth covered while he was fucking her to keep her quiet because he recalled how loud she was the first time they’d been together.

But before he could indulge himself in feeling the juicy stretch of her around him, he was determined to have her come in his mouth and on his fingers first. She didn’t orgasm when he ate her out the last time and that was something that stuck with him. He had nowhere to be the following morning and given that it was a Sunday he figured she was free as well so they could play for a lot longer this time around. Not that that stopped them from having a good romp and then a quick fuck in the morning the last time, but he planned to take his sweet time with her now.

He smoothed his hands up her thighs and licked his lips, “I’m gonna lick your pretty pussy until you come and then if you’re still well behaved maybe I’ll let you taste my cock for a bit before I fuck you. How’s that sound?”

She nodded and moaned softly, “Mmm… That sounds so good.”

Harry smiled and pressed his thumb over her clit and gently began to rub back and forth, “It does doesn’t it? I missed this with you, angel. Can’t believe I thought it was just going to be the one time. Seems as though fate had a different idea.”

She scrunched her brows and an ooh feel from her mouth at the feel of his thumb on her clit and his soft words.

Harry leaned over her body, the fabric of his shirt dragging over her tummy as he dipped down to wrap his mouth around her pebbled nipple. She craned her neck back into the soft pillow and sighed at the feel of him on her. His lips on her breast and his thumb on her wet nub.

By the time he’d licked and sucked the expanse of both of her breasts, she was completely on edge. On fire. His teasing thumb gently rolling her clit back and forth was making her lose it.

“Fuck… please, Harry,” she whispered as she stuffed her fingers into his hair. He lifted off her breast and looked up at her, “What is it, angel? Please what?”

“I just… I want you to fuck me. Now.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and looked at where his hand was at her pussy. All wet and shiny for him, “What did I say?” He looked back into her eyes, “Don’t you remember what I said I was gonna do first?”

She let out a shaky breath, “I do. I just thought you could skip it if you wanted. Really want to feel you again.”

He kept his thumb working her clit as he groaned, “I want to feel you too. But I have to have a go at you first. Want to put my mouth right here,” he slid his thumb upward and pressed down, “and make you come.”

Her tongue poked out from her lips as she kept her mouth parted. Heavy lids and wiggly hips.

Harry loved the way she looked. Like she was ready for whatever was to come. She was desperate for him and he already had her saying please. He loved a little begging when he could get it.

“Little tongue coming out to say hello,” he reached forward and pressed his finger onto her pink muscle and she immediately wrapped her lips around his digit. His own mouth dropped open at her desperation. Her tongue pressed into the pad of his finger and she sucked him in.

“Shit, angel. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good. Okay? Don’t worry.”

He felt her lift upward into his hand and he got the hint. She needed something.

Pulling his finger out of her mouth and taking his hand from her pussy he pulled his shirt off over his shoulders and knelt down, pressing his fingers through her crease, coating his digits in her slippery essence.

He looked up at her face as he plunged two fingers into her hole and then lowered his mouth over her cunt and she bellowed loudly before putting her arm over her mouth to keep herself quiet. She’d have to keep herself in check with the noises but her concern about Brad being right next to her room was slowly dissolving.

Harry chuckled into her labia as his tongue slipped up and down, lapping at her arousal.

It was soft but every time he puckered his lips and ran his tongue up and down her clit she felt a spark lighting up her insides.

Her moans were muffled under her arm. But she was so wet that everything in her room sounded exactly like what was happening. Harry’s lips and tongue and fingers moved through her wet labia and creamy arousal and she wished she could record the sounds to listen to later.

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest and he curled his fingers and dragged the tips along her soft ridges on the inside. He flattened his tongue over her clit and slurped before quickly sweeping his tongue back and forth. Her little squeak was a good sign. He smiled.

When he felt her fingers in his hair, pulling gently she began to roll her hips into his face. He lifted up to take a look at her as much as he could with her fingers on his head. She was gorgeous. Her wet pussy was smeared all over his face, her tits swayed softly as she arched and writhed, her hair was splayed out across her pillow, soft thighs parted.

Then he noticed the way she was fucking herself down onto his fingers. Her hips began to move faster and her pathetic mewls were falling muffled from her mouth.

Harry lowered his lips back to her pussy and she sighed in relief. But he only applied a sloppy kiss to her mound before looking back up at her. He moved his free hand up her body and pushed her arm off her face, tilting his head up to speak, “Keep your eyes on me, angel. You can be a good girl stay quiet. I know you can,” he pumped his fingers into her as he spoke against her pussy in hot breaths.

She adjusted her body slightly, using the pillow to help keep her neck angled so she could watch him. To keep her eyes on his. She gasped and tried to stifle her moans as she watched him dig in with his whole face.

His pretty green eyes were mostly pupil, dark with only the edges of crystal green surrounding. She put her other hand into his hair and cradled the back of his head. The hand he wasn’t using to finger her had her thigh held down, his fingers pinching into her soft skin.

But then he used his tongue to move quickly back and forth over her clit while thrusting his fingers deep, curling into the right spot. And there was something about his eyes watching her that made her flush hot. His steady gaze seeped into her brain and wrapped itself around all those bits that supplied dopamine and caused a craving that would be hard to shake.

His fingers were stuffed so deep inside of her that she knew he must be getting his knuckles drenched. Probably his whole hand given how wet everything sounded. The bend of his fingers inside of her and the pressure on her clit, when he sucked her, pulled a loud groan from her lungs. But it didn’t stop him from continuing the sloppy lapping and slurping.

Pulling his hair tighter between her fingers she bucked her hips into his face and tried to close her legs slightly by instinct. Harry kept her one thigh pressed down hard and he used his shoulder to hold her other side down.

She cried out, “Oh god!” And threw her head back, removing her eyes from Harry’s just as she felt the spark turn into a harsh current that began to tip her into the edge of her orgasm. She knew it had been too loud. Knew that it might have woken up her housemate but she was too far away from caring about that just then. Her pussy was being snacked on in a way she’d never experienced in her life.

Harry dug himself in deeper when he could tell she was close. Her loud cry and the quiver of her thighs were a good sign. He kept at what he was doing and looked up at her soft tits as she arched her back and moaned his name.

When she began to clamp down on his fingers and her moans moved into a steady stream of whining and whimpering and her muscles tensed he knew he’d gotten her to come finally. He allowed her to have her eyes closed because he could tell it was intense. He’d have her watching him next time he made her come on his cock.

Which reminded him of what sort of state he was in. His hard dick was painfully achy. But the anticipation for what was to come had him reeling as he licked her through to her end, keeping his fingers inside of her, working her until she slowed her hips and loosened the grip on his curls.

He sat back, grabbing her hands from his hair, and looked over his handiwork. Her pussy was ready to be fucked. She was ripe for more. He knew she’d be good for another orgasm. Her body was made for this.

When she finally opened her eyes she giggled as he leaned over her frame. His face was all wet. His chin, his cheeks, and his nose were shiny with her. She followed him with her eyes as he climbed over her.

Somewhere in between her coming and right then, he’d removed his pants and boxer briefs. His cock hung heavy over her face, “Open.”

She was flat on her back as she opened her mouth for him, reaching a hand up to grasp the base of his cock to guide him to her mouth. She felt his warm tip against her lip, the smear of his precome and her slippery arousal wetting the edge of her mouth before she wrapped her lips around him.

The groan he let out was the sound of pure sex. She had barely done a thing but she was already smiling to herself at the way she made him whine.

Harry held onto the headboard with one hand and used his other to grasp the back of her head as he pushed himself down into her throat. He’d only dip in a few times. Make her swallow and gag around him once her twice because he wanted to fuck her. Wanted to feel her again.

She closed her eyes when Harry’s tip dragged against the back of her throat. He pumped himself into her a few times and she swallowed as she gagged around him. The whimper he let out made her brain swirl. She was thoroughly enjoying having her throat fucked. He wasn’t going in too hard but he was taking control of her and dipping in until she was coughing and drooling.

He pulled himself out and looked down at her, moving his hand up to her cheek with a grin, “My god, angel. Just so fucking perfect.”

She was still catching her breath. From her orgasm, from having his cock in her throat, from the intensity of the moment…

She could hear him ripping the condom wrapper open before he was back in view. He sat between her legs on his haunches as he softly moved his palms over her thighs and up to her hips, “Gonna give me another one? Come on cock this time?”

She planted her gaze on his and nodded, “Yes…” her words were a whisper.

The cheeky grin Harry returned to her had her heart fluttering. He was so painfully attractive she felt like this was all a dream.

“Good. Need you to keep your eyes on me this time, okay?” He paused as she nodded, “Want to watch your face when I make you come. Might have to cover your mouth if you get too loud like you just were. Is that okay?”

Another quick nod and a moan told him she was on board.

Harry moved his hands up her sides, pressing his fingers into her soft skin and up to her breasts, kneading at them for a moment before lining himself up to her hole, “Look at me.”

They kept their eyes locked as he slowly pressed in past her tight opening. Harry knew that if they went without a condom he might come inside of her and not want to pull out. If she felt as good as she did with a condom, he knew he’d be falling in love and down on one knee if he felt her without.

Her puffy, juicy pussy was taking him in just as he remembered. He had to work himself in and out a bit before he finally got himself into her balls deep. He would have loved to tuck himself in further but he was halted from his thick, full balls.

“Feel that, angel?” He groaned quietly as she nodded nodded in gasps. “Yeah? It’s so fucking deep, isn’t it? Love the way you spread open for me,” he rocked into her and pulled back, listening to the slick sounds it made.

He put his palms on the mattress with his body leaned over hers, using his strong back and thighs to fuck into her as deep as he could. He just wanted to be stuffed inside of her guts, fucking into her as far as humanly possible. And she felt that too. It was deep. The sharp ache made her keen but the drag of his pelvis against her clit felt otherworldly.

Her thighs were pushed back, bent at the knee as Harry laid himself into her over and over again. Thick, deep, languid strokes.

“Ahhhh!” She cried when he smacked into her, pushing her upward slightly.

Harry groaned and kept his eyes on hers, “Yeah? It’s that good, huh? Gonna have to cover your mouth now because I’m about to go a little harder.” She wanted harder. Liked soft too, but hard stuck around for days. Loved the feeling of having her pussy fucked so good she was reminded of it later on. Just like the first time they were together. She felt him every time she sat down or stood up for two days. Felt the leftover ache on her thighs and the burn on her bottom.

Harry angled himself down, pushing her thighs apart further with one hand and covering her mouth with his other. And his sudden punishing thrusts had her eyes going wide. It hadn’t been expected so quickly but he got right to it.

He could feel the vibrations of her moans against his palm as he buried himself in and pulled back to his tip before he hammered back into her repeatedly. Long, deep, fast strokes.

She was already rolling her eyes into the back of her head. He wanted her to watch him but he’d give her a small break and make her open them when she was coming. He wanted to watch her face and her eyes as she reached her peak.

Her bed creaked and the springs danced loudly. Muffled sounds of moans and the wet slap of skin filled her bedroom. Harry didn’t necessarily want her roommate to hear them but he did enjoy all the noises that came with sex. And in all honesty, they were both being as quiet as possible given how hard he was fucking her.

His thighs burned from the thrusts and his back muscles held himself steady over her, “Listen to that, angel. Our bodies connecting like that. How wet you are for me…” he moaned his words as he watched her face screw up in ecstasy. Her muted noises were stifled with his palm as he wrecked her insides.

She felt every inch of him taking her. Every slip and thrust, drag and pull, every deep nudge inside… She opened her eyes to see him already looking down at her and she nearly lost it. His hair was in his face, curls swaying, sweat building at his temples, his arms were flexing as he held himself up over her, his chest flushed and glistening from the intensity of his thrusts into her. He was so strong and so overpowering she felt like a rag doll under him flopping and grunting under his hand. She was just a hole to fuck as she clenched down on him when he pasted his hips to hers and rocked inward sharply.

“Keep those eyes open, angel. I can tell you’re about to come on my cock and I need you to look at me so you know who’s making you come,” he spoke his words through gasped breaths as he pushed into her deeply, slowing his thrusts so he could control his own orgasm. He was too close and he knew she was nearly there.

He rocked his hips into hers he ground himself down when he stuffed himself in fully, making sure her clit was being smushed against for friction. Repeatedly he fucked her little hole with slow plunges and smoothed against her clit. Every time he screwed into her to the hilt he felt his balls pressing into her bum, being wetted by her creamy arousal. He keened at the feel of her around him. Every little ridge of her insides taking him in like they were made for that very thing had him spinning.

Harry removed his hand from her mouth. He wanted to see her whole face as he fucked into her. Wanted to watch her mouth drop open as she creamed on his cock when she came, wanted to hear her cries, fuck anyone else that might hear. In that moment it was all about his angel and how good she was feeling. All he cared about was that she was being taken care of and that he was making her feel as good as she deserved.

“Harry, please… oh my god please…” she gasped as she clung tight to his back. His cock inside of her felt full and had her walls tingling and fluttering. She was reeling with pleasure and having him inside of her. Never wanted that feeling to go away. If she could bottle it up and take it with her she would. So she tried to stave off her orgasm for a moment longer.

“Begging me, baby? Want to come so bad don’t you? But it feels so good like this doesn’t it?” He used a hand to hold the side of her face as if he were being gentle with her. As if he wasn’t fucking into her deep with harsh ruts inward that had her gasping for air. His words and his soft touches and his hard cock were doing her in.

She tried. She really did. She wanted to have him fucking her like that for hours but she couldn’t hold on any longer. She began to moan, starting with a low, quiet sound, until she was crying out his name and shaking under him.

She kept her eyes open but found the task difficult as she started to come. And she realized that watching Harry while she came only intensified her orgasm. Her head swirled with his handsome face hovering over hers, looking directly at her as he made her come felt like she was being dominated in a way that she’d never experienced. He hadn’t tied her up or whipped her or anything like that, but it was the sensation of being watched while she was coming that made her feel like he was taking control. The experience of having the man who was making her come as he looked down at her at that moment felt like he’d claimed her as his. He was watching his own work come to fruition and it was a dominant act.

“Fuck, angel. Just like that. Come all over me. She me how good it feels.”

Y/n babbled an unintelligible response and moaned around her syllables and vowels. She didn’t know what she was saying as she forced her eyes to stay on his.

And it had been worth it to keep her eyes open when she saw Harry’s face pinch up and his mouth drop open. She could hear his groan and the harsh thuds into her cunt before he stilled and clenched his teeth as his cock throbbed inside of her. He was coming and she got to see it on the tail end of her own orgasm and it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.

“Ahhh!” He panted as he sucked in a deep breath and choked out a loud moan. The release was heaven. He came so hard he wondered if it could be possible to leak out of his condom. He pumped and throbbed and worked himself to his end as he looked down at the pretty angel under him all fucked out and smiley on his cock.

His chest heaved as he twitched the last little bit and his features relaxed on the comedown. He kept himself over her as he began to smile, “You okay?”

She was melted below him, a soft smile on her lips as she nodded, “So fucking good. Oh my god…” she whispered.

Harry gently pulled himself off of her and checked to verify that he hadn’t in fact leaked out of his condom before pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor. He’d deal with the cleanup later. In that moment he needed to hold her and kiss her for a while.

She felt her body pulled against his and then his lips caressing over hers. Soft and reassuring. Her orgasm had been intense. Maybe the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had. The eye contact was something she hadn’t expected. She thought it would feel silly. At first, it made her feel vulnerable but when she could tell how much he needed it, needed her eyes on his it felt like a rush. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she came so hard.

She kissed him back and put her hands up to his shoulders. Lazy and soft and sweet.

Harry pushed his nose into hers and spoke softly, “That was really, really good, Y/n. You don’t mind if I stay the night here, do you?”

Shaking her head she scraped her nails against the nape of his neck, “I want you to stay. Please.”

.           .           .

Waking up in her bed with Harry next to her felt like a wild fantasy. She considered pinching herself as she fluttered her eyes open and saw his sleeping face smushed into her pillow. The night before he’d been a sex god. A man so fine with a masculine and well-muscled body that he made her mouth water and her clit throb. He’d fucked her so good and it was so hot it gave her goosebumps just thinking about it. But there he was lying in her bed asleep, pink lips and glossy eyelids, small puffs of breath coming from his nose, and adorably messy hair. She couldn’t quite wrap her brain around how he went from the man who took control of her the night before to the soft, cute, sleeping beauty the very next morning.

He asked if he could stay. Said he wanted to be with her a little longer. And that was the part that really stuck with her. Sure he was handsome and then some. They got along so well and everything felt so compatible with him. And that was a problem. Because he wasn’t just some guy. This was Harry Styles. She couldn’t go getting her feeling too mixed up in everything. But he made it hard with the way he treated her and handled her. Like they’d known one another for an eternity.

On their first night together it was clear that what they were doing was just something fun and that was it. Which she was fine with. She happily accepted his terms then. Just as she happily said yes to him staying the night this time. Whatever he wanted she was fine with it. Well, she hoped she’d be fine. Because she was sure he’d never get his feelings mixed up with sex when it came to her.

Gently putting her fingers into his hair she saw his eyelids move and then slowly he graced her with his gorgeous eyes and then a soft smile.

He didn’t say anything before he dragged her the short distance to rest her head on the pillow his head was on and kissed her.

And it went from a quiet soft morning make out to Harry’s erection poking into her hip and then scrambling for a condom with messy hair and soft sighs to a slow break of day fuck.

The springs in her bed bounced gently with every thrust of his hips. Harry kept his mouth glued to hers as he drove into her soft, wet pussy. All of her blankets had been kicked to the floor in a rush for the condom and switching positions on the bed and now it was just two bodies at the center finding relief and catching an early orgasm before their day began.

Harry rocked into her, his cock so hard and thick she felt every single inch of him moving into her and slipping back before he languidly pushed in until his hips met hers. She had her ankles crossed over his back and Harry had one hand cradling the back of her head, his mouth covering hers while his other forearm kept himself held up slightly, his chest against hers.

She gasped under him, reaching for breath every time he thrust into her. His own panting grew more desperate and soon the first sound of his voice was heard for the day, a whimpered moan falling from his throat as he felt her walls taking him in with a decadent squeeze and wet squelch.

Morning sex was always Y/n’s favorite, but it turned out it was Harry’s too. It was less fussy really. Just two tired bodies wanting to connect and feel pleasure in the golden morning light. No preamble or big to-do. Just soft morning sex and a delicious orgasm to get the day started off right.

The moment Y/n’s moan grew loud and Harry felt her cunt spasming and pulling him in deeply he let go, spurting into his condom and licking into her mouth as he throbbed in ecstasy.

And just like the night before and the first night she’d spent with him, she was amazed. Maybe it was the shape of his cock or their natural chemistry. Or maybe it was just Harry, but somehow the sex with him was beyond just good sex. She was going to be haunted by this man.

When he pulled out he held her thighs apart and lapped at her gently, just for a taste. Just to enjoy one more little squeal from her throat, which she immediately gifted him.

“Harry stop! I’m too sensitive!” She pushed at his forehead and he smiled up at her before collapsing onto the bed next to her.

He hated navigating relationships because being famous already put his life under a microscope. Most of the time it wasn’t worth it to keep seeing someone for sex unless it was a person he knew feelings would never be a problem with, and they could both have the understanding that it was just sex. But that was rare for him. Harry was all or nothing with sex usually. It was either a one-time deal or he’d want a long-term committed relationship. And the latter was complicated for someone with his lifestyle. His last long-term relationship was something he’d take with him forever. He considered it a lesson learned. And for him that meant needing to be very picky and selective about whom he let into his heart.

No more mixing business with pleasure and then taking on the guilt of having a public break-up. No more women with super complicated lives that he could get mixed up into.

He felt like he was treading dangerously with Y/n. He didn’t want to hurt her and he didn’t want to get himself hurt either. But he could see himself being with someone like her. He liked her spice and her straightforward demeanor. She was confident and funny. She wasn’t the type that he’d be able to keep his feelings separated from the sex with. He was already getting attached.

“What?” He asked her. She was lying next to him, they were sharing a pillow and she had a small smirk on her face as she gazed over his features.

“Nothing. It’s stupid,” her grin didn’t fall off her face.

Harry brought a hand up to her jaw and he thumbed gently toward her temple, “Tell me. I like stupid sometimes,” he laughed.

She bit her lip and looked away from him for a few moments before putting her eyes back on his, “Your song, Watermelon Sugar. It’s about cunnilingus?” Her smile widened feeling ridiculous asking him such a question but she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Ever since the night before when he made her come from eating her out (a rarity for her) and then that morning after they’d had sex when he went in for a quick lick.

Harry laughed and nodded, “I guess. Yeah. Why?”

“Cause you just seem to really like it.”

Harry took in a deep breath and moved his hand down her side, “I love it. Is that okay?”

She looked at him like he was crazy, “Of course it is. Very much so.”

She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Harry had been fun and sweet. And to know that this famous man could have anyone he wanted yet he chose to spend the night with her felt like something quite special. Something she wouldn’t get the chance to do ever again. To have him in bed at all was a crazy notion. But to have it happen twice?

“I want to see you again. When I get back to LA in a couple of months. Is that okay?” He said as he pulled her in for a hug before they left her bedroom. His car was waiting for him.

His words shocked her. Again?

“Oh. Yeah… Sure. That would be fun.” She was surprised. Stunned. If he wanted to see her again what did that mean? Was he thinking of her as more than just someone to have sex with?

“Well, geez. You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it,” he laughed as he pulled back from the hug.

Shaking her head she grinned, “Just didn’t expect you to want to see me again. You’re gonna be gone for months. I mean… I’d love to. Of course. But you know… No pressure.”

“Of course, there’s no pressure. I’m just saying I’d like to see you again if you’re free when I return to LA. That’s all.”

Letting out the breath she’d held in she nodded, “Yes, Harry. I’d really like that.”

Harry smiled softly and put a hand up to her face to press his palm over her cheek as he looked her over, “Gonna miss you, angel. Wish I could take you with me.”

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[libraryofloveletters]

Bound By Fate

Jenson Button x Fem!Teammate Reader

series summery: the strings of life connect two people; teammates, friends, perhaps lovers. Even when you think you’ve gotten rid of him, the strings of life pull you back in. some things are just meant to be. 

author's note: this was prompted by god knows what but this is my new passion project. jenson girlies, this one is for you. shoutout to @mev33 for losing her mind over this with me <333

bound by fate taglist!

chapter one: united front

attached at the hip, jenson button and y/n l/n are the unstoppable duo. the same soul in two bodies. all but 4 points separating them. // “where you go, I go. What you see, I see. I know I’d never be me without the security of your loving arms, keeping me from harm. Put your hand in my hand and we’ll stand.” - Skyfall by Adele

chapter two: time cast a spell on you

spending nine months with someone is a long time, especially when you’re forced to be with them. feelings grow, both good and bad.  - “Time cast a spell on you but you won’t forget me. I know I could have I loved you but you would not let me. I’ll follow you down ‘till the sound of my voice can haunt you. Oh give it just a chance. You’ll never get away from the sound of a woman that loves you.” - Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac  

chapter three: the blame is on you

two mclarens spin out, drivers at each other’s throat but only one’s to blame. what’s said on track doesn’t always stay there. - “It’s my own design, it’s my own remorse. Help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world.” - Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tear For Fear 

chapter four: no grace

jenson can’t take it anymore; the back stabbing, the betrayal. he did what he thought was best and left. on what was supposed to be the happiest night of y/n’s life, she’s heartbroken and upset. — “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace, so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. You had to kill me, but it kills you just the same. Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. You turned into your worst fears and you’re tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. Crossing out the good years and you’re cursing my name, wishing I stayed.” -  My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift 

chapter five: the final tango

y/n and jenson find themselves front and centre, smiling for the cameras in their sunday bests, yet their hearts are in different places. - “it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. I’ve done the math, there’s no solution. We’ll never last. Why can’t I let go of this?” -  Promise by Laufey 

chapter six: secrets of us

when all is said and done, it’s never really over, is it? jenson spills far too much in a tell-all interview that back fires on both he and y/n. - “And you don’t seem to understand, a shame you seemed an honest man. And the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear. And you know what they say might hurt you and you know that it means so much, and you don’t even feel a thing.” -  Duvet by Bôa

chapter seven: a chapter of me

four long years have passed, both y/n and jenson are in different places of life but they find themselves at Silverstone, together once again. jenson’s a commentator and y/n’s still a racer. seems the dust has settled. - “Just wanna let this story die, and i’ll be alright. We can’t be friends, but I’d like to just pretend. You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again.” -  We Can’t Be Friends by Ariana Grande 

chapter eight: a glimpse into the past

people come and go, life moves on; that has always been your view. you can’t move on when your past comes back to haunt you. -  “So I ask myself, do I let you go or do I keep you in the frame of my mind? Now I’m growing wise to your sugar coated lies, nothing’s sweet about my misery. Yeah, I finally found what went wrong, i finally found the wrong in you.” - On My Mind by Jorja Smith

chapter nine: twelve steps forward, one step back

the final race of your life, mixed emotions truly. your career was one out of a movie, you’re waiting for the final shoe to drop and when it does, it hits you hard. - “Isn’t it strange? I am still me, you are still you, in the same place. Isn’t it strange how people can change from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again?” - Strange by Celeste

epilogue - chapter ten: the last bow

life post retirement is a funny thing, you thought you’d be having fun but you’re bored out of your mind. a solo trip results in seeing a ghost from your past.  -  “I'm sure we're taller in other dimension, you say we’re small and not worth a mention. You’re tired of movin’, your body’s achin’. We could vacay, there’s places to go. Clearly this isn’t all that there is, can’t take what’s been given. But we’re so okay here, we’re doing fine.” - White Ferrari by Frank Ocean 

[songoftrillium]

Likes don’t increase visibility to others! Please reblog this to spread the word! 

I think Werewolf is an inherently queer medium

This is all a part of a larger long-term project.

I am trying to hold the World of Darkness to higher standards of inclusivity.

Book 1: Cliath

Meet The Gaians — a chosen people blessed by Gaia of whom among them there are heroes who are born, blessed with the power to Change. They have been charged with the duty of protecting her and her brood, and among them are fellowships from every culture. They are largely comprised of Kinfolk. Vanguards of the earth, they follow the Codes and Creeds of renown in chiminage to the spirits in exchange for favor, protection, and power to strengthen their Fellowships and they form one of several primary factions.

A small number of Gaia��s chosen have been gifted the ability to shapeshift through either bite or birth into animals; warriors joining the fight against the Wyrm. The Gaians have many secret names for these shapeshifters between their cultures, and they range across many animal species and tribes, but the most common among them in these times are Garou.

This sourcebook includes information on First Changes, Rites of Passage, how people become werewolves, and what they're fighting for. Book 1 is effectively a players guide, including enough comprehensive character creation rules for people to create rank 1 Garou.

The World of Darkness is implied to exist just beneath a facade that all others take for granted as simply being a world gone wrong. When the Change happens to a Garou, human or otherwise, the world they once knew ceases to be. The Apocalypse is said to be something happening to everything, everywhere, simultaneously, and on every level. This transcends the concept of everything succumbing to a singular event but many small ones.

In many ways, the Garou themselves are emblematic of this Apocalypse, with these former lives ending and sweeping the cub into something far bigger than themselves. A Call To Action is the theme of Book 1.

Book 1: Cliath goes into warborn, bitten, wolf-born, and human-born lives leading up to the change. It presents a curated depiction of the Garou from the perspective of those who would mentor them. There are not a lot of conflicts, profound lore, or politics so much as 'this is what we are, this is what we do.' Functionally, this can be considered a Players’ Guide, containing your attributes, abilities, advantages, and Merits and Flaws. Gifts and rites will be truncated to rank 1 for the most part. Guidelines for new STs will be found here, including enough powers and enemy stats to keep their troupe of players on their toes. This will also include things like chargen and descriptions of attributes, abilities, and advantages. This will also have many details on packs and the importance of one's packmates. And what better way to introduce new players than to have it happen in an all-new setting for storytellers to introduce their players to the game: the first three chapters of Dead Mountain!

Dead Mountain isn't going anywhere. In fact, it will be used as the foundation for this series. Already-finished parts of the Dead Mountain will be released over the next few months, and a delayed release of the full chronicle will come next spring. The scope of Werewolf: the Essentials will strongly diverge from past game traditions. In past core books and settings, there was an intent to showcase the world at large, written from the perspective of people who had never been to these places. In the end, many details were laughably wrong or mediocre representations that didn’t appeal to the groups they represented. We want the World of Darkness to be HUGE. So, we will be laser-focusing this project to represent the Garou from the Pacific Northwest as an example, with guidelines on how to make your own World of Darkness at your locale HUGE too!

CALLING ALL CHARACHS!

We cannot make this happen without your help.  We are putting out the call for folx from all parts of the queer, lesbian, trans, bisexual, gay, and asexual werewolf fandom looking to help make this the best possible release we can:

Artists

Horror writers

Editors

Consultants

Hype Wolves to help spread the word

Indie TTRPG creators

Working together, we can create a game that is fun, engaging, and genuinely representative of the diverse community of players and fans who love Werewolf. To help us out, click here We look forward to providing you future updates!

UPDATE: Our team has grown huge, and we're grateful to the fandom for rising up and howling with us! We received far more applications than we were able to fully process, but we promise to deliver you the best possible Sourcebook anthology we can! Meet the Writing Team Meet the Art Team Follow our official account for future announcements! To check out a book preview and help us hire cultural consultants click here

Social Media Shout-out! I offer my thanks to @peltofash and @a-boros-named-seamus for supporting me on the Adren and Athro tiers! Your contributions are directly helping make this game more inclusive!

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [32] - Viscaria

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Honesty makes bonds stronger. 

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence.

Word Count: 4000

Series Masterlist

The following week was very chaotic, and that was saying something considering what this whole season had been like so far.

Daphne was back from her honeymoon and had a lot of things to share with you, and you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be able to recover from that conversation. It was one thing to know and hear that nightly activities were -as Daphne had called them- pleasurable beyond words and it was another to know despite they were pleasurable beyond words, you still hadn’t…

Consummated.

Because Benedict had told you once that he would only touch you when you fell in love with him and you were not going to get rejected again.

The other thing was that Anthony had tempted fate that night apparently, because now everyone was talking about Colin and Marina. As Lady Whistledown had written on her society paper, Marina was pregnant from another man and she had been since she had got to London. Once the news had broken out, her courtship with Colin was brought to an end immediately and she was sent away from London by the Featheringtons to the countryside and as far as you had heard from Eloise, she was to marry the brother of the baby’s father, since the father was dead.

You shuddered to think what that poor girl was going through.

Colin was quite heartbroken but as Benedict had told you, he was slowly getting better. He and Marina had had the chance to talk before she had left for the countryside, so you figured that had to have cleared out the air at least a little.

Not for the ton, of course. That scandal was to keep them busy for at least a month if you had to guess.

As if all that wasn’t chaotic enough, both Bess and your aunt had decided that they would throw balls back to back; Bess’ ball was tonight while your aunt’s was next week, and you had spent the last week rushing from her house to Bess’s to make sure everything was going smoothly.

“I have a question for you,” Lottie said as she flung herself next to you. You still had hours until you would all go to Bess’ ball, so you had decided to relax in the park a bit. Though you were supposed to focus on your book away from the crowd under a tree, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Benedict who was in a deep conversation with Margery and Henry before you frowned and turned to see Lottie better.

“Yes?”

“So you know how everyone is talking about Marina being…” she lowered her voice, “pregnant out of wedlock.”

“Hasn’t escaped my notice.”

“But how?”

“Sorry?”

“I thought one was supposed to be married to become with child.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Well not—not necessarily,” you managed to say and she took a deep breath.

“I asked mama.”

“Oh dear God.”

“And she says it is an act full of love and desire that should only happen once you’re married.”

“Uh huh,” you said, looking around in an attempt to distract yourself. “Oh look at that, a butterfly—”

“What act?” she cut you off and you let out a whine.

“Lottie.”

“What happens when you’re married?”

“You know what, that’s a really good question,” you pointed out. “And the better question is; why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Because you’re married,” she answered. “Not to mention, even before you got married you and Benny have been…”

“Debauched?”

“Full of desire,” she whispered and you felt your cheeks burn. “Even before your wedding, you two—”

You cut her off, careful to keep it quiet. “We didn’t do anything before the wedding!”

Nor after, now that you thought about it.

She lowered her voice. “But you kissed.”

“Nothing more!” you whispered back in a haste. “And you’re telling me you and Anthony did not?”

She repressed a proud grin, trying to keep a straight face.

“Perhaps.”

“There you go!”

“But that’s not our subject right now,” she said. “I forgave you after lying to me for months and you will keep it from me?”

“Lottie…”

“My two best friends and the love of my life lied to me, and now you keep another thing from me.”

“You’re devious,” you pointed at her, causing her to smile at you sweetly. “You really are.”

“I’m just hungry for knowledge.”

“You and I seem to have that in common,” you murmured. “Lottie, it’s just…it’s a pleasurable act.”

“That causes one to be pregnant?”

“Not always,” you said. “Marina’s was just bad luck I’d say. It’s only on specific times if you do that act that you become pregnant, it’s a mystery. I heard people say there are ways to prevent it as well, she must have not known.”

“And?”

“And,” you cleared your throat. “When you’re in love, and you desire that person and they desire you back…It’s—well, it’s divine.”

Or so I heard.

She thought for a moment.

“And you knew all this when you married Benny?”

“I didn’t grow up in the ton,” you said. “People talk about it more back in the countryside.”

“And Benny knew as well?”

“…Mm hm,” you pressed your lips together to keep yourself from laughing but she still saw the look of amusement on your face.

“What does that mean?”

“He’s very well practiced, and that’s the only thing I’ll say about it.”

“You know,” she mused. “There was a lady and one of Benny’s friends during my debut two years ago who were caught in an inappropriate situation at night in her bedchambers, and at their wedding breakfast I asked Benny what that situation was and he only laughed and told me I’d learn after I got married.”

“Wise words from the ton’s horizontal refreshment,” you muttered and she tilted her head.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

“So it’s pleasurable then?” she insisted. “If it is with the one you love?”

“Not to quote Benedict, but you’ll find out soon enough,” you said with a small grin. “Anthony and you will be married before the season is over, you know it as well as I do.”

A bright smile curled her lips, then she took a deep breath.

“I still haven’t forgiven him.”

“How much longer are you planning on making him suffer?”

She let out a giggle. “I would never make him suffer,” she said. “My heart is his completely.”

Your grin slowly faded when your gaze drifted to Benedict chuckling at something Margery had said, then joked back, making Margery laugh. Henry had to have walked away so it was just the two of them, and you felt the bitter taste of jealousy burn your throat before you looked at Lottie.

“So um—are you going to forgive him then?”

“I’m hoping to talk to him tonight at the ball,” she said. “He is coming as well, no?”

“Oh all of them will,” you said. “Even Colin, apparently. Benedict is dragging him there.”

Lottie nodded slowly, then stood up.

“I’d better see if my siblings are up to something, excuse me,” she said and walked away from you. Benedict saw her out of the corner of his eye, then said something to Margery before rushing after Lottie, no doubt to try to talk to her considering she hadn’t forgiven him yet either. Margery looked around, then waved at you and approached you.

“Well hello there,” she said and you offered her a smile.

“Hello.”

“Riveting read?”

“Not quite, but it’s a good excuse to keep myself busy,” you said and she shot you a smile.

“Understandable,” she said. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you said and scooted over so that she could sit down.

“We missed you at the party last week,” she said. “Why didn’t you come with Benedict?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I was quite busy,” you said. “At the ball. But he says it was very much fun.”

“Oh it was!” she said, pressing a hand over her chest. “You really should’ve been there Y/N. Jane throws wonderful parties, you simply must come to the next one, I insist.”

“I will,” you said. “And are you coming to the ball tonight?”

“Absolutely,” she said and let out a laugh. “Benedict was just joking about how he has never seen me dance and he has this theory I’m terrible at it. He says he will see at tonight’s ball.”

You could feel your stomach doing a flip. It didn’t really mean anything, nor was it something that was ought to make you feel this jealous but—

Alright, this was ridiculous.

They were friends after all, so of course they were to joke around, there was nothing for you to feel bad about. You cleared your throat and smiled.

“Does he?”

“My mother used to give me these endless lessons until my dancing was perfect,” she made a face. “I hated it, but I do admit it comes handy at the balls.”

“Things we do for the ton,” you said as your eyes fell on Benedict who was making his way to you and Margery stood up.

“I should leave you two be.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to—”

“No no, it’s no issue,” she said. “I should find Lucy anyway. See you tonight Y/N.”

“See you,” you said as she walked away, and you watched Benedict come closer to you.

“The ton’s horizontal refreshment?” he asked and you repressed a laugh at the look of complete puzzlement on his face.

“You talked to Lottie?”

“Talked at her before she—did you seriously call me the ton’s horizontal refreshment?”

You shrugged your shoulders, adapting a look of complete innocence.

“I could’ve called you the town harlot,” you pointed out. “But I’m nicer than that.”

A laugh escaped from his lips and he motioned at your side. “May I?”

“Of course,” you said and he sat down beside you, making your heart skip a beat.

“So what brought that on, exactly?”

“She was curious about what happens when one gets married,” you said. “You know, with the Marina scandal and everything.”

“Ah,” he said and paused for a moment. “And what did you say?”

“Well I certainly didn’t say she would learn after getting married, which is more information that you gave her,” you pointed out. “Hypocrite.”

“It was not my place to inform her on that,” he defended himself and turned to look at you. “Please tell me you didn’t tell her it’s unpleasant.”

“Wh- of course I did not!” you said in a haste. “Everything aside, I don’t want to listen to Anthony whining about it.”

Benedict made a face. “Let’s just stop talking about that because I do not want that picture in my mind.”

You hummed. “How is Colin?”

“He’s heartbroken but he will pull himself together,” he said. “I’m not sure if Anthony will though. Third scandal involving our family in one season.”

You shrugged. “So far.”

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I honestly think that he might have a heart attack if another scandal happens, and I do not want to be a Viscount.”

You grinned at him before you saw Margery and Lucy walking by the park out of the corner of your eye, and lowered your glances to your book, smoothing out the corner of the page. Benedict frowned.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?” you asked, lifting your head. “Oh yeah, sure. Just thinking about tonight’s ball, Bess put so much effort into it so I hope it goes well.”  

“I’m sure it will.”

“And uh—Margery is coming as well?”

“They all are,” Benedict said. “Should be fun.”

You tried to smile, then nodded your head.

“Yeah,” you said. “Should be fun.”

                                      *

In all honesty, it really was a fun ball. Bess was a wonderful host, albeit a busy one because you hadn’t had any chance to talk to her or Josie or Andrew for that matter. You had hoped to talk to Lottie but you barely had the chance to see her before she had excused herself from the ball after one dance, saying she was still tired from the park. Anthony had left around five minutes after Lottie had, but they were the only ones because every other guest seemed to be having so much fun.

Felix had somehow convinced you into being a part of the next dance which required you to switch partners every once in a while, and you were now paired with him while Lucy danced with Henry and Benedict danced with Margery. You let out a laugh and let him turn you as the dance required.

“An artist and a good dancer,” you said, taking a step forward with him. “Full of surprises, are you not?”

“I hope my art skills are better than my dancing skills,” he said with a smile and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not complaining,” you said. “Any new paintings you have been working on?”

“Just drawings,” he said. “And you? Have you discovered a new flower yet?”

You scoffed a laugh, “Mm hm, I’ll name it Felix,” you said. “And when will I see the drawings? Or does that privilege only belong to my brother-in-law?”

He suppressed a smile and stole a look at the dancing couples, and you winked at him.

“You two are such close friends after all,” you said airily as he held out his arm and you put your hand on it. Felix grinned.

“We talk a lot about art,” he played along. “He has many interesting ideas. It’s quite inspiring.”

“I’m sure it is,” you said, still smirking and clapped your hands together along with other couples, then switched partners and Henry smiled at you.

“Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Sir Granville,” you greeted Henry and put your hand on his shoulder. “Having fun?”

“Quite so, you must give my gratitude to Lady Hadfield,” he said. “A wonderfully planned ball.”

“There’s nothing Bess can’t do wonderfully, except for keeping her plants alive,” you commented and let him twirl you before you took a step.

“Our lovesick couple is back in the honeymoon phase then?” he asked and you shot him a lighthearted glare.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“No?”

“Not at all,” you said with a smirk, stealing a look at Lucy who was now dancing with Benedict, “We were simply enjoying the fresh air.”

Henry chuckled, then you both clapped your hands and switched partners, Benedict grabbing you by the hand to twirl you, making you giggle.

“Hello Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Hello to you too Mrs. Bridgerton,” he grinned at you, “How are you on this fine evening?”

“Enjoying the ball, and yourself?”

“Enjoying the sight of the most beautiful lady at the ball as we speak,” he said and you scrunched up your nose at him, ignoring the burning in your cheeks.

“Ever the romantic,” you teased him. “I should write you a sonnet or something, to pay back the favor. Can’t have you covering that whole front.”

He let out a laugh and you both circled each other as the dance required.

“A sonnet,” he said. “That sounds lovely. Will you carve it on a stone with a knife or something?”

“That does sound romantic now that you mention it,” you said. “And a stone can be a weapon as well, so you would have a sonnet you can actually use if need be.”

“Ever the practical,” he teased you back and you both clapped hands along with other couples, the music coming to a stop. Laughter and chattering filled the dance floor as you dropped a curtsy and Benedict bowed.

“Come on, let’s grab drinks,” he said and offered you his arm, and you put your hand over it so that you both could walk away from the dance floor. Benedict grabbed two glasses from the tray, then gave one to you.

“Is Lottie alright, do you think?” you asked and he nodded.

“She said she was, before reminding me she still wasn’t talking to me.”

You repressed a laugh and stole a look at Colin who was talking to Penelope by the corner.

“And Colin?”

“Pen will make him snap out of it,” he said. “Being around her always makes him feel better. Look at him, smiling already.”

You tilted your head, turning to glance at them but before you could comment on it, someone touched your back, making you look behind you.

“Andrew,” you said, turning around to see him better. “This is a good surprise after what, two weeks?”

“I know,” he said, giving you an apologetic smile. “I have been busy. Hello Benedict.”

“Hello Andrew.”

“Busy with a certain artist?”

“Maybe,” he winked at you. “Where is he anyway?”

“He was just on the dance floor,” you said and Andrew looked through the crowd, then nodded.

“Alright, I’ll be back but before I forget,” he said. “Y/N, Josie says you’ve been worried about the letter from your father and I get that but trust me, even if they do come here there’s no—” he stopped talking as your eyes widened, your heart dropping to your stomach. Benedict slowly turned to look at you before turning to Andrew with a frown and Andrew glanced between you, then hissed in a breath.

“And you haven’t had the chance to tell him,” he muttered. “Damn it. Sorry, I thought…”

“Your parents are coming here?” Benedict asked you and you pursed your lips together, then cleared your throat.

“Andrew, do you mind?”

“Yeah I’ll just—” he motioned at the other side of the ballroom. “Go and mess up another couple’s relationship on my way there so that you won’t feel alone. Sure.”

“Great, you do that,” you said and he squeezed at your arm in an assuring manner before walking away from you. You took a deep breath, your heart beating in your throat before you nodded at Benedict.

“Come with me?” you asked and made your way through the crowd with Benedict following you. You both left the ballroom and you climbed the stairs, then turned left and opened the first door which turned out to be one of the guest rooms. Benedict stepped inside after you, then closed the door behind him and put his hands in his pockets after a pause, clearing his throat.

“So?” he said, his voice completely calm. “What is happening?”

You heaved a sigh and ran a hand over your face.

“My uh…my father sent a letter,” you managed to say and Benedict frowned.

“To you?”

“No, to my uncle,” you motioned outside vaguely. “He talks about wanting to host Teddy for the rest of the season, which will not happen by the way, over my dead body,” you added in a haste. “It’s just a trick to ask for more money from my uncle, at least that’s what he says.”

Benedict nodded. “And they’re coming here?”

“It was implied on the letter,” you murmured, biting inside your cheek. “But my uncle thinks they won’t.”

“And you?”

You could feel your whole body stiffening and it was so familiar to you that it made you scoff, then you shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you said curtly. “Father didn’t send another letter.”

“But why wouldn’t you tell me earlier? When did—” he stopped talking as a look of realization dawned on his face, making you shift your weight.

“That’s what you were going to tell me,” he said slowly. “Earlier.”

You pressed your lips together, fixing your gaze on the wall as you crossed your arms.

“That’s why you…” Benedict let out a breath, nodding his head. “Now it makes sense. You wanted to tell me, and I was at a party.”

That familiar feeling of defenselessness sent a shiver down your spine, making you frown before you cleared your throat.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said almost stoically. “It’s fine.”  

“Y/N, I’m really sorry—”

“No need to be,” you cut him off, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sinking in your stomach as you rubbed at your wrist, his eyes following your movements. “We don’t even need to talk about this really.”

“I think we do.”

“We do not.” You shook your head, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “I’m fine.”

“If they come here—”

“I can handle it,” you interrupted him again and rolled your shoulders back. “It’s fine. I don’t need—I can handle it, even if they do come here. I don’t need anyone’s help, I’m fine.”

That soft light appeared in his eyes and he stepped closer to you to pull you into his arms, heaving a sigh.

“Oh my stubborn girl…” he murmured into your hair, his hand cradling the back of your head as you rested your forehead on his chest. His other arm snaked around your waist and you felt the stiffness of your muscles relax slowly, almost melting into his touch. The music coming from downstairs slowly washed away from your ears as your hearing became muffled and you felt the tears rushing to your eyes, making your whole body tense up again. You took a shaky breath and pulled away from him even if you wanted nothing more than just stay there in his embrace forever, then you ran a hand over your face.

“Are you alright?” his voice was gentle and you nodded.

“Yeah I just don’t—I don’t do that anymore.”

“Do what?”

“That whole crying nonsense,” you rasped out, blinking back the tears as you went to sit down on the bed. A silence fell upon the room before he approached you, and crouched down to look at you while you played with the ring around your finger, your gaze growing distant as you found yourself lost in thought until you heard his voice.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Why not tell me afterwards?”

You shrugged your shoulders, nibbling on your lip.

“We weren’t on best terms,” you muttered. “I could not.”

A gentle smile curled his lips and he entwined his fingers with yours, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb as if trying to assure you.

“No matter what happens between us,” he insisted. “No matter what, I will always protect you. Nothing could change that.”

It felt as if someone was squeezing at your heart inside your chest but you managed to find your voice.

“Benedict, if they do come here…” you trailed off and he shook his head.

“Even if they do, nothing will happen,” he said, his voice determined. “I promised you, remember? No one will touch a hair on your head, ever.”

You dragged your gaze to his as you swallowed thickly, then nodded. For a moment, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat, the desire rushing through you. If you leaned in just a little to brush your lips against his, you could—

Your head whipped around as the sound of what was probably a vase falling down to floor and smashing reached inside and you heard Andrew’s laugh and Felix shushing him before someone slammed a door down the hallway. That was enough to snap you out of the haze you were in and you pulled back, blinking a couple of times to focus.

“Can we, um…” you muttered and Benedict seemed to understand what you were going to ask.

“Back home or back to the ball?”

“It’d be rude to Bess if we went home, we must stay,” you said as he stood up but you didn’t let go of his hand and stood up as well. You gave him a small smile, swinging your hands absentmindedly and Benedict raised your hand to press a chaste kiss on it, then shot you that lopsided grin of his.

“Would you spare me another dance, Mrs. Bridgerton?”  

The simple joke made you feel as if that heaviness in your chest was lifted off, letting you breathe again. A giggle escaped from your lips and before you fixed a serious expression on your face, pretending to consider it for a second.

“I suppose I can,” you mused in an airy manner and tugged at his hand to lead him to the door. “You are quite easy on the eye after all.”

Chapter 33

[tmwcs]

WHAT IS UR OPINION ABT THIS HEE😣😣😣 He is so attractive!!!! and the ERGHH BICEPS💪💪💪 IM REALLY WEAK WHEN IT COMES TO THIS🧘🧘

btw how are U😁

Warning; extreme non/dub con content below. This is a little one shot within the TO series (ongoing) I would highly recommend you read the chapters of TO (The Otherside) before reading this, otherwise you might just get confused. This is heavy duty yandere love. Mentions of murderer/serial killer (if you know…you know).

You threw everything you could grip your hands on. Smashing all of his collectables on the floor, you rampaged his entire studio apartment and tore everything in sight. What else was new? You snapped…again.

“Are you done?” He asks as he stands with his arms crossed, not even bothered by the amount of damaged you had just caused.

You breathe out heavy pants as he smears away the glistening beads of tears from your cheeks. Why did he have to do this to you? Why can’t he just let you go? Why did he have to do all those terrible things, yet claim it is all out of his unyielding love and affection? Is being forced on and contained away from the world really love? You don’t know anymore. It’s been so long since you saw fresh faces, and heard different voices, apart from his friends; the cannibal and the rapist. You fell into a state of hopelessness and gave in, even after jumping back and trying to fight it once more. But just as usual, he stands tall and defiant, with that damn smirk on his face. He knows he will win at the end. The man who saved you from being butchered by your original captor, has become the one who holds the key to your freedom and the life you once had. He, your savior, he took it all away from you. You don’t know which one is the lesser of two evils. After being forced upon time after time, hearing his whispers of love and obsession as he grunts in your ear and pounds into you relentlessly and making you scream, not out of fear or hatred…you wish it were that. Instead, he made you scream out of pleasure and yearning for more. He made you desire for more of it, and when after each session was finished, you fell into a state of regret and hated yourself. You hate yourself for caving in and holding on to him as he finished off deep inside your body while he tenderly kisses you, taking full advantage of your mind and soul being lost and confused from the isolation. You don’t even know who you are anymore. What can be done? Other than to oblige by his words. You finally give a slight nod as you started to sob once more.

“Good.” He merely responds as he chuckles, stroking his thumb over your quivering lips as he affectionately shushes you. “You’re just tired. Don’t worry, we’ll get a house with a nice yard for you to play in. You just need some air.”

A yard? A funking yard?! Why does he do this to you? Can’t he see that this was so wrong? Why is he being so blind and nonchalant?

“I love you.” He cuts your thoughts mid way and presents you his hands forming a heart shape. “I love you so much. Nobody is going to hurt you or try and take you away. I won’t let anyone do harm to you, okay? Now…”

He wipes your tears and shushes your lips once more. “I’ll take you outside for some air, maybe even get you a treat…but you have to be good and calm. You know the rules baby. You going to be a good girl? Hm?”

You begrudgingly nodded. He won…like always. What could you do? Even when he took you out, there was no chance of escape, not with his cunning little gadgets he had custom made to keep you connected to him, or tracked. God forbid if you started to cry or scream out for help, the first time he took you out, roughly three months in your captivity, you made the dire mistake of trying to reach out to a local police officer, in which Heeseung effortlessly dismissed as he lied to the officer and claimed he had just picked you up from the hospital and that you were feeling the affects of some narcotic medications. He proved it by cunningly having a forged prescription already in hand. He already knew and planned for anything you may have had up in your sleeve, that slick bastard. After providing the false prescription to the officer, you paid for your mistake regretfully. He left you in a sealed room and darkened room for days, maybe even weeks. Each moment he came to check on you, it was to bend you over on his lap to spank you, but not in the way that may seem alluring. You were in so much pain, the sting was unbearable, thank God there weren’t any marks, though he made sure of that since he didn’t want to ruin your pretty little skin, just wanted you to understand the pain of you breaking the rules. If it wasn’t the spanking, it was him using his little toys on you, causing you extreme pain from overstimulation as he repeatedly tied you up and fiddled with your cavity until the soreness caused you to cry out and apologize.

He grabs your jacket and places it over your shoulders. “It’s a little windy babe.” He smirks once more. “Let’s go out for a walk, and get you a pastry. After that we’ll come home and clean you up, and if you’re still good we’ll watch a movie. Would you like that?” An eerie smile forms on his heart shaped lips. You step back out of fear as his eyes darkened and his laugh grows louder and malicious. Oh no…not that….anything but that side of him. For a moment, through his calm demeanor you forgot the real side of your savior.

“Let’s come back and watch a movie, I’ve got so many homemade films baby.” His wicked countenance hinted at what those films were. He made you watched them before…the films of when he brought you here and raped you, yet you succumbed to the pleasures and begged him to keep going. You hated those films, yet he loved watching and pointing out how you were desperate for him to keep going. “Let’s watch them snd listen in to how you kept begging for my dick to scramble your insides. Maybe it will get you wet enough so we can make another one.” He tugs on your waist as you try to peel yourself away. “Yes baby. You love it when I fuck you and bounce you on it. Don’t you?”

“No!!”

He begins to tear your blouse apart. “You love it when I suck on your tits and lick your neck.”

“Stop!! No!! Don’t!!!!”

“You love it when I make you cream on my dick.”

“Noooooo!!!!! Stop!! I don’t want this!!! Let go! Stop!”

………………

*squeak squeak squeak*

“Ugh! Ffffff-uck!”

“Yeah? You fucking like that baby?”

“Mmmmm….!”

“You want me to go in deeper?”

“Uuuuuugh…!”

“Say it, you beautiful bitch.”

“D-deep…deeper!”

“Yeah? That feel good y/n?”

“Y-yes!…oh God yes…”

“Come here baby, let’s fuck you harder.”

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

Forbidden Love: Chapter 2

Next chapter Previous chapter

Can we just kiss like real people do?

Summary: Professor!Emily x fem!student reader explore their new relationship.

Word count: 1.3k

TW: kissing, mainly jut fluff

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader

Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist Emily Prentiss Masterlist

Emily’s pov: 

I can’t believe we are going out. I know she’s a student but honestly, I couldn’t care less about the rules right now. She’s perfect. We’re currently standing in the lecture hall and she's in front of me, my hands on her waist just looking into her eyes, trying to memorise every little feature on her face. I lean down and whisper in her ear “What do you think about dinner tonight?” I feel her lean into my touch as she says “I’d love that.” A bright smile breaks out on her lips. God, I could look at her smile all day, it’s infectious. 

I pull her into another kiss and take her hand as I lead her to my car. I open the door and she mutters a small ‘thank you’ and I smirk at how even the smallest gestures make her swoon. I walk to my side and turn the car on. Once we’ve gotten on the road I place my hand in hers and bring it to the gear stick, feeling her tense up at first but relaxing after a second. I look over at her and see her smiling still while looking out the window, her eyes flick to mine for a second and then back as she blushes again. She’s going to be the death of me. 

Reader pov:

Her hand is in mine, HER HAND IS IN MINE? I’ve never been so, I don’t know, jumpy? Because of another person before. It’s just something about her, the way she holds herself, the way she talks, the way she looks, the way she says my name, the way she cares. God, everything about her makes me nervous. 

As we pull up to a restaurant near the outskirts of town my mouth drops open. Not only is it Italian food -my favourite- but it’s super fancy. We’re in the wealthier end of the city right now so that really shouldn’t surprise me but it did. In my haze I didn’t see Emily leave the car and make her way over to my side, she opened the car door and took my hand to help me out, scarlet creeping onto my cheeks. 

“Such a gentlewoman.” I say teasingly.

“Only for my girl.” She husked into my ear. Her girl? Oh my god.

As we got seated, she pulled my chair out for me and motioned for me to sit, “Thank you.” I looked down at the menu to distract myself from her sheer presence making me hot. She sat opposite me and asked me “Do you drink?” I smiled at her politeness.

“I do, and I’m not fussed about what.” Her eyes lit up when I said that - clearly excited to have control over the drinks for the night. Without sparing a second she waved over a waiter and asked for some fancy red wine with a fancy name that seemed like it cost a month's rent. The waiter came back with the bottle and two glasses, poured us both one and left the wine in the ice bucket he also had with him. She picked her glass up and gestured towards me and I lifted mine.

“To our first date.” She said with a smile which I gladly returned. 

“To our first date.” We clinked our glasses and each took a sip of wine. My mouth watered at the taste. She really did know what she was doing when it same down to wine.

“Good?” Emily wondered out loud.

“So fucking good.” I replied. She seemed pleased with my answer and continued to browse the menu. God she’s gorgeous.

After dinner - which consisted of enjoyable, easy conversation and just generally getting to know each other outside the teacher, student setting - I got back in her car and she began to drive me home. While we were driving in a comfortable silence the pleasant hum of the radio in the background, my favourite song came on: Like Real People Do by Hozier. My eyes lit up and a grin made its way onto my face. “I love this song!” I say to her excitedly. 

“No way, same, Hozier right?” I turn to look at her even though she can’t look at me because she’s driving.

“Yeah, I love his music! What’s your favourite song by him?” She pondered for a minute before answering.

“Probably Work Song, what about you.” She seemed genuinely excited that I knew his music and it made my heart flutter.

“Either Work Song, the one that’s playing now: Like Real People Do or, Cherry Wine.” Her hand finds mine and is trapped on the gear stick again once I finish talking.

“You’ve got amazing taste in music.” My heart felt like it was going to soar out of my chest when she said that, it’s honestly my favourite compliment. 

“Thank you so much, so do you!” Her hand squeezed mine as she said,

 “Thank you angel.” My head ducked to hide the blush bought on by the pet name, which she clearly has picked up on by now, but her unoccupied hand found my chin and turned my head to face her. I hadn’t even realised we stopped but I didn’t question it.

‘Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips and we can just kiss like real people do’

The song played as she pulled me in closer to her and locked her lips with mine. It was like heaven on earth, like two puzzle pieces sliding into place. Her lips already felt like home. We pulled away breathless, and she still held my face in her hand, the other one still preoccupied holding my own and gazed into my eyes, “Can I have your number honey, so I can check up on you and stuff?” I grinned affectionately at her rambling and the fact she just asked me for my number, I said yes and gave her my phone, unlocked. As she typed in her number I couldn’t help but stare, her gorgeous smile gracing her lips, her eyes lit up in the light of my phone, her raven hair sweeping her shoulders, her nose scrunching as she sniffled a bit, she’s just god sent. 

I was pulled from my thoughts when she handed me back my phone, allowing me to chose her contact name, knowing she was going to watch whatever I put in I named her ‘em ❤️’. I closed my phone and looked at her, seeing her smirk already forming. “A heart hm?” I just nodded my head as she chuckles lightly, “You’re so cute love.” She pecked my nose before bringing me in for another kiss, stealing my breath yet again. As we pull away I try to stifle my yawn, feeling the affects of the lecture and dinner catching up to me. “You should probably go get some sleep y/n/n.” A nickname already? God if I wasn’t down bad before I am now. 

“Y/n/n?” I questioned her just as she did me. A crimson layer painted her face and not mine for once. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you?” She tilted her head slightly as she beamed at me teasingly, already knowing my answer. 

“Of course it is.” Another kiss was planted on my lips and I smiled so hard my cheeks burned. I looked towards my flat and got my bag from the footwell. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I said hoping she wouldn’t have to be away for a meeting and actually get to teach. 

“See you tomorrow princess.” I smiled again at the nickname, shut the door and waved to her as I got to my front step and walked into my flat. She’s perfect.

[bird-in-the-space]

Echoes of the Unknown

You participate in your last summer at Lynx Wood Summer Camp. You dread the future that awaits you at the end of the summer, but luckily, you have your best friend, Emily, to soothe your worries.

Warnings: angsty thoughts, mentions of a difficult family life, reader being rather moody, strange sounds, and comfort.

Chapter 1

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

The summer had come to a quick start. The sun was out, it was dead hot, the birds sang in the trees and the bugs flew around either without destination or making their life’s mission to bother as many people as possible in the summer camp Lynx Wood, a place you once loved and grew to hate when you grew older since your parents always forced you to go there so they would not have to deal with you, or that’s what you believed at least. They once promised you all would do something together in the next summer but nothing happened, instead, they just sent you to the same summer camp over and over again. This time would be your last since you have turned eighteen. After this, you will make sure you will never return here, even if you become old and cripple. 

“Earth back to (Name)!” someone’s hand waved in front of your face. You snapped back to reality and looked at your best friend of six years, Emily Walkerson. 

“The welcoming ceremony is about to start soon. Do you want to get it over with or go get our stuff at the bunk beds?” she asked. “Since we’re eighteen we’re not technically required to join the entrance ceremony,” she added. 

“Let’s get it over with. You know, how Mr. Robin will get if we don't follow the schedule,” you replied tiredly. 

“Yeah, you're right. I still can’t believe this is gonna be our last year here. We had so much fun during summer breaks here. It feels like it was just yesterday when we first came here. Time flies fast,” she said with her positive attitude. She loved the place where she had made more friends than you. You knew some people, but they were more like acquaintances than friends. 

“I wouldn’t say all of them were fun,” you uttered as you two followed the other people to the theater area where the entrance ceremony should be held. 

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. We are going to graduate and then we don’t ever have to come back here,” Emily tried to sound comforting. “Your parent then have no right to send you here without your will,” 

“It’s not just that. But my mom expects me to start living on my own like a full-grown adult, or she might kick me out. I don’t even have another place ready and I don’t even know how to pay taxes,” you threw your shoulders in exaggeration. 

“It will be fine. Your dad said he was gonna help you, right?” Emily asked. 

“Yeah, that's the only comfort,” you mumbled, remembering the argument you had with your mother before you left for Lynx Wood. 

“Cheer up. It’s only two months. Let's spend it with fun and clear heads. Then we can brood about the future later. Sounds good?” Emily nudged you. 

“Whatever…” you groaned as you two joined the entrance ceremony.

The entrance ceremony went as it always did. The camp counselor welcomed the new and old faces, explaining the rules, events, and stuff till your ears fell deaf to the rest and your mind went elsewhere. You were then finally allowed to leave and meet up with your camp leaders. 

You and Emily met with old friends and settled in your new bunk beds in the camp houses. You were given new shirts as you were now the seniors of the camp and would be joining some activities you were not really excited about. It was hard to feel the excitement. You had done them several times and after your argument with your mother,  you were not in the best mood to enjoy the summer. 

You met with an old face, Amanda, and her friends. She was the pretty girl of the camp while sometimes she could be nice and tolerable, other times, she could be pretty annoying. You preferred to stay clear of her. 

The day luckily went fast. You did some dull activities together and finally settled down with your usual routine of spending time at the campfire with Mr. Robin, your camp leader since you were fourteen. 

The fire was crackling in the bonfire. The night was chilly despite it being summer. Some stars twinkled and you could hear some crickets. 

A loud boom reached your ears. You looked toward the mountains and frowned. All day you had been hearing strange booming sounds coming from there. This was the fourth time you heard it for the day. 

You looked toward your camp leader. “Mr. Robin. Is there some kind of construction happening in the mountains? I have been hearing sounds coming from there all day?” you questioned, pointing toward the mountains. He and the other members of your group looked toward the mountains.  

“I have been hearing them too. Maybe a new road is being built there, or maybe the mine there has finally been reopened for business,” Mr. Robin said thoughtfully. 

“Didn’t that mine get shut down due to the unstable conditions?” Emily asked, eating from a bag of candy she had brought to the camp. 

“It did. It had been shut down for three decades now,” Mr. Robin nodded. 

“Or maybe the ghosts there have been awakened and now want to get out,” Amanda grinned as others looked toward her. 

“Not funny,” you frowned. 

“What? Do you feel scared?” she teased. 

“I would if you were someone who could be taken seriously,” you said and others giggled. 

“Now, I’m curious though. I never looked into the abandoned mine’s history. What happened that caused it to go abandoned?” Emily questioned and you nearly cursed her curiosity. 

“Okay. The story goes like this…” Amanda started and everyone paid attention to her. “One day, when the miners were mining something. An accident happened. Four miners fell into the depths of the caves and were never found. It was said that there were blue crystals and giants made out of metal that took them and trapped them beneath the earth,” she explained and everyone whoaded at the story. 

You only rolled your eyes at her. 

“Blue crystals and giants made out of metal? I wonder where those came from?” Emily stated. 

“It was said one of the rescuers claimed to have seen giant metal beings for a brief moment while trying to find the miners. The miners weren’t found and that rescuer was sent to a mental institution. The mine itself was then shut down due to its unstable structure,” Mr. Robin finished. 

“One thing that rescuer claimed was that those metal giants were aliens,” He grinned and most of you chuckled at his expression. Aliens? Really? 

“Alright, lynxes. Clean up and get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow,” he stated. 

You all cleaned up after yourself, then went to your camp houses. 

You tumbled around your bed, unable to find sleep. The camp house was dark, save for the moonlight that came from the window. Your mind was bothered by the argument with your parents and all the other things that followed. You were scared. Your mother wanted to kick you out and your father said nothing. Did you mean that little to them? How do they expect you to survive on your own if you have only finished high school? 

No matter how much you disliked this camp. You felt more fear about leaving it.  

Tears fell from your eyes as your mind was silently tormented by these thoughts and how alone you felt. 

“Hey, (Name)” Emily’s voice snapped you back. 

You quickly dry your eyes when you see Emily and that she is awake. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked with a worried tone. 

“I’m fine,” you said. 

“Obviously not. You are crying,” she said. “Tell me… what’s going on? Is it about your family again?”

“I’m scared…” you sighed.  

“My mother wants to kick me out and my father doesn’t even care. They don’t even give me time to figure out how to live on my own,” you confessed. “I’m gonna end up living as a street dog by the end of this camp,” you dreaded the thought. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Emily comforted. 

“And if that does happen then you can come live with me? My mother doesn’t mind and my folks like you,” she smiled. 

“Really? But wouldn’t I just be an extra mouth,” you asked, nearly baffled by her suggestion. 

“Not at all. And knowing you, you will most likely automatically take half of the housework to compensate even if you don’t have to,” she giggled. 

“You might seem aloof with a resting bitch face, but you are a really sweet person,” she smiled. Your face warmed at the praise. You didn’t feel deserving of it. 

“You are way more approachable than I am,” you stated.  

“You just need to learn how to lower your guard once in a while, but who knows you will eventually find the people you belong with,” Emily assured. 

“Thanks, Em. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” you looked at her softly. 

“Definitely lost. You need to upgrade your social skills,” she smiled. 

You smiled in return, the silent noises in your mind finally vanishing into calmness. 

You both then heard a loud bang sound coming from outside. 

“Did you hear that?” you asked. 

“I did…those road makers are really blowing through those rocks,” she mentioned. 

“Anyway, try to get some sleep,” she turned her back toward you. 

“Goodnight,” she said. 

“Goodnight,” you replied. 

You stared through the window toward the mountains, thinking about the sounds and Amanda’s story about those lost miners and alien metal giants. You shook your head. It was just a story from the long past. You closed your eyes and finally found the strength to fall asleep.

[freetobee1216]

Hi I'm writing a Zutara fic and this is the first chapter

Warning, literally zero mention of Zuko yet, I plan for this to be the slowest of slow burns. Also I change cannon slightly, basically the events of the show take place over the course of 3 years instead of 6 month, just cuz I think it makes more sense.

Anyways, enjoy chapter one!

Chapter 1:

The wind ripped at her howling skin as she tried to manage the swelling gathering under her eyes. Far below, she could feel the crashing ocean waves of her element calling to her, screaming a familiar song that sounded like home. Pull yourself together she scolded herself, Aang was expecting her for dinner. Katara took one deep breath. Two. Three, and the emotions that moments ago were ruling her every action, telling her to run to where she belonged, ceased to exist.

Walking away from the cliff that overlooked the clouds swirling around the southern air temple, she stuffed the crumpled letter deep into her pocket. She could hear the sounds of meditation instruments coming from the gardens. Here, the newest air acolytes were coming to terms with their decision to turn their back on the life they once knew in order to follow the teachings of the Air Nation. A worth cause, a good decision, but that fact still couldn’t take away the sting of homesickness.

Raja, a girl from the southern tip of the Earth Kingdom, sat cross legged struggling to focus on her breathing. Her knee kept bouncing at an alarming rate and her eyebrows were so scrunched together that they looked like a unibrow. Katara waved to the girl and she sheepishly smiled back. Raja was sweet, only a year younger than Katara at 18, and the two had become fast friends in the month she had been here. Katara raised her eyebrows at her friend as if to say, need a break? Raja quietly looked at the rest of her group, specifically at Angi, the group leader, to see them all peacefully meditating. She silently stood up off the orange pillow and tip-toed to the path where Katara was waiting for her. The pair linked arms as they walked trying not to laugh and get Raja caught for playing hooky. When they cleared the corner and the music faded into the wind, they both broke into barks of laughter.

“You looked like your head was about to explode back there,” Katara said through her snorts.

“I honestly thought it would, I just can’t seem to get this sitting still concept.” Raja laughed back. “They’re doing that for the next hour, hopefully no one will notice I left.”

“I doubt it, wanna help me cook some dinner in the meantime?” Katara asked her friend.

“Yeah, anything other than that sounds good to me, what’s on the menu tonight?” She responded gratefully.

The pair went off to the vegetable patch to grab some ingredients then spent the next half an hour cooking together. Raja told her all about the drama with the new acolytes; who was just trying to rebel against their parents, who had already been caught hooking up, and who was out to steal her boyfriend. Katara laughed at all her friend’s stories, she had a way of imitating the others and embellishing just the right amount to make the story compelling. She was also aware of the many girls who joined the acolytes just to try and get closer to Aang, though she didn’t feel that pang of jealousy like she used to. She assumed she was just so desensitised to it at this point. Two and a half years of fending off pursuers and watching your boyfriend be absolutely oblivious to it, will do that to a girl.

“So, are you gonna pull out some master waterbending on the new ones to clear them off?” Raja joked as she chopped up carrots.

“Honestly? I don’t really care anymore, is that bad? O-or mad?” Katara contemplated while stirring the stew boiling beneath her making her face flush.

“Or wise?” Raja interjected adding in the carrots to the large cauldron.

“But, shouldn’t I feel something? You know just something more than nothingness?” Katara blurted out before she could help herself, these were thoughts that shouldn’t be voiced. Katara hid her face from her friend as she went to grab some herbs from the shelf on the other side of the kitchen.

Raja was quiet for a little bit before smoothing over with, “I think its fine, I mean it’s not like any of those girls are a threat to what you and Aang have, he loves you and would never cheat on you with some floozy.” She laughed out the last bit.

Katara swallowed and turned back to her friend with a smile and joked back, “Oh he’d never even dream of that, he knows he couldn’t take me in a fight if he did.”

The girls dragged the bulky cauldron filled with the vegetable stew out to the communal mess hall on the other side of the door. The room was already filling with hungry acolytes and Katara heard Raja curse under her breath. A stern looking Angi was stomping her way through the crowd that was gathering and making a beeline straight for Raja.

Raja sighed, “Well, I gotta go deal with her wrath, this is the third mediation I’ve skipped out of this week.”

“Wait, it was my fault, please let me talk to her,” Katara said, guilt spreading through her bones.

“Nah, it was my choice, I was looking for any excuse, don’t worry about it,” she said before skipping up to Angi. Katara could hear he start to apologize when she felt someone sneak up behind her.

The master bender was about to steal the water from her pouch and get ready to fight when she felt a pair of familiar hands cover her eyes. “Guess who?” the voice said. Aang.

Katara’s shoulders relaxed and she turned around to give her boyfriend a hug, “Hey Aang.”

“The stew smells great, thanks for cooking tonight! I know it wasn’t your night, but Sheejik wasn’t feeling great and I didn’t know who else to ask” Aang apologised.

“It’s fine, I like having something to do, should we grab a bowl and go to our normal spot?” Katara asked.

“Yeah, sounds great!” Aang said. Normally, they would eat in the mess hall with the rest of the air acolytes, but occasionally the two would sneak off to the private balcony downstairs that was build directly into the cliffside. It was beautiful, overlooking the other mountain islands in the sunset. It was a place where they could feel both of their native elements, the ocean below and the whipping winds around them. It had felt balanced, or well, it mostly did.

“The sunset is beautiful tonight,” Aang remarked. It was burning a bright orange that let into a salmon-like pink on the edges of their vision. The waves below perfectly reflected the light of the sun, and far to the east, dots are starlight where starting to breakthrough the periwinkle.

“Yeah, it is,” Katara said, being drawn to the last lights of the sun.

“Not as beautiful as you though,” Aang said softly.

Katara once might have blushed at a comment like that, but she was far too mature now. At least, that’s what she thought was keeping the heat from creeping up her neck. She did however paint a smile on her face and lean over to kiss his cheek, when she puled away Aang was bright red. “Thank you.”

“Have you, uh heard from Sokka?” Aang asked changing the topic.

Katara felt the letter in her pocked multiply in weight tenfold, “Uh yeah, you?”

“I got an awesome letter from him this afternoon, he’s been named Chief in Training! And he told me all about his plans to expand the Southern Water Tribe with the aid they’re getting from both the North and the Fire Nation. It’s really great what he’s doing down there,” Aang rambled on about things Katara already knew about.

She tried to hide her face by looking south towards her home, “Ye-yeah, I got a letter today too.”

“You don’t sound that excited,” Aang noticed.

“Well, I just, I don’t know Aang, it’s a lot of change.” Katara said, frustration beginning to build in her chest.

“But change is good Katara, it’s a natural part of life,” Aang tried to reason with her.

“I know that,” she snapped, then tried to regain control over her words when she saw his hurt face, “It’s just, it’s hard that all of this is happening without me.”

“All of it is happening because of you Katara, without what me, you and Sokka did, going to the Northern Water Tribe and getting them to care about the South again, stopping the war. Without that, this wouldn’t be happening.” Aang said.

“But it’s not fair! That’s my home, and it’s changing without me there! Am I even going to be able to recognize it when I return? What if the North takes over too much? What if I wake up one day and my culture is so different it doesn’t make sense anymore and I did nothing to stop it because I wasn’t there?” Katara yelled, her anger and confusion bubbling up to the surface.

“Katara, it’s going to be okay; you just have to trust in your tribe, they’ll find the right way,” Aang tried to reassure her, grabbing hold of her hand.

“It’s not about trust it’s-” Katara started pulling her hand away, but then she sighed. He doesn’t understand her anger, how could he? He has to put all of his hope into trust at the moment for his nation, or else there would be nothing left. He is trusting these new members from all over the world to find it’s way back to some semblance of the Air Nation and what he lost all those years ago. Looking at Aang, she sees the scared homeless kid from the iceberg, the pain that is still there hiding under the surface. She takes a deep breath and dissipates her anger, grabbing back hold of his hand; this isn’t something that is helpful for him to hear. “You’re right, it’s all going to work out, I was just being anxious. Of course, Sokka will figure it out.”

Aang smiled at her and leans in for a kiss, she closes her eyes and reaches within herself to try and feel how she used it, something small in her chest tried to wiggle its way out, but it feels as if it has been locked away. Their lips touch and she’s just going through the motions. It’s fine, she tells herself, this is just what happens when you’ve been a couple for a while.

The door behind them bursts open and a young boy no more than age 13 named Ren blushes profusely, “I am so sorry Master Aang to bother you and your girlfriend, but there is a reporter from Ba Sing Sei here and he wanted to get an interview about the progress of the Air Nation,” he blurts out in one single breath.

“Uh yeah, Katara do you mind?” He asks, still concerned about their earlier discussion.

“Of course, send them in.” Katara says giving Ren a maternal smile, not wanting to make the boy any more akward than he already looked.

“Of course!” he squeaks out and turns down the hall. They can hear him say something to the other side of the door then pronouncing, “Right this way sir.”

A well-dressed man in his mid-20s appears at the threshold. He is wearing a traditional Earth Nation robe and sports the most fashionable facial hair in Ba Sing Sie, a well-groomed moustache and goatee. He gives a low bow in the way of greeting towards Aang, “Avatar Aang, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Manu Sho and I have been writing for some time about the tireless efforts you have been making towards restoring the Air Nation with the Air Acolytes. It would be an honour if I could receive an interview with you.”

“Of course, come join us, Katara and I were just finishing our dinner, would you like a bowl as well?” Aang offered.

“That would be lovely,” he said and looked expectantly at Katara. “Oh, you must be Katara, Avatar Aang’s faithful girlfriend.”

Katara squirmed in her seat a bit but said, “Yeah, that’s me.”

“And you are from the Watertribe?” he asked gesturing to her outfit.

“Yeah, from the South, that’s where I first found Aang.” Katara said, feeling as though she was being looked at through a microscope.

“It must have been so nice for you to get to travel with the Avatar and learn waterbending from him!” He said joyfully.

“Oh, actually, I was Aang’s teacher.” Katara said, and edge entering into her voice. This wasn’t the first time she had to clarify this.

“I thought the Avatar was taught by Master Pakku in the North?” Manu said in confusion.

“Well yeah for about a month or two, but I was the one teaching him for almost 3 years,” Katara said haughtily.

“Yeah, Katara is a master waterbender!” Aang added in helpfully.

“Oh, I’m sorry I was misinformed,” the reporter said looking more like the uncomfortable one now. Good, Katara thought to herself. “Um, may I have some of the stew please?”

“Oh right, of course, uh Katara, would you mind grabbing Manu a serving?” Aang asked trying to smooth over the rough interaction.

“Sure,” Katara said through her teeth and crossed arms. She stomped back upstairs to the mess hall and grabbed Manu a serving, muttering to herself the whole time about blatant sexism and forgotten female narratives. When she returned, Aang and Manu were laughing together, talking about cabbages.

“Here you go,” Katara said shoving the bowl into Manu’s hands, then sat down next to Aang. Manu looked a bit unsure at Katara, but she was refusing to move. She had been helping with the efforts to rebuild the Air Nation just as much as Aang was. Katara stared the journalist down in a dare, he didn’t take the bait. Instead, he continued to ask about the progress from the last two years after the war ended. Both Aang and Katara answered his questions about the acolytes, the program they were following, the diet and efforts to restore traditional Air Nation vegetables in the gardens, the newest recruits, everything. It was going pretty well and Katara had calmed herself down now that Manu was actively listening to her. But then it happened; he brought up the idea of kids. This was something she and Aang had been avoiding speaking about ever since they got into a huge argument last month about it.

“The air acolytes are great, but when are you planning on hopefully producing the new generation of airbenders?” Manu asked bluntly looking between the two of them.

“I’m sorry what?” Katara asked her mood going south immediately.

“The new generation of airbenders, when will you be producing them?” he asked as if she were slow.

“Yeah, I heard your question, what I don’t understand is why you are asking it,” Katara snapped at him.

“Well, Ms. Katara, it’s an important question, the world is out of balance, we will be needing more airbenders,” he said.

“Well, Katara and I aren’t sure on the timeline,” Aang answered trying to be diplomatic.

“Aang, I do not want to discuss this publicly,” Katara hissed at him.

“You are a few months away from being 20 are you not? And the Avatar has just turned 18, that is a perfectly respectable age to start having children, especially because you will probably need to have a lot in order to get the new generatio-” Manu began.

“Okay that it, we are done here!” Katara interrupted grabbing his quill and scroll out of his hands that he was taking notes with and packing them into his bag, “You can go now.”

“But, I, uh, miss I am not finished,” Manu sputtered.

“Master.” Katara said.

“I’m sorry what?” He asked.

“It’s Master Katara, and you are dismissed,” She ground out, pulling the water from her pouch and getting into a defensive stance.

“Uh yes of course, Master Katara, Avatar Aang,” he said quickly bowing to them both and running off.  

Katara slammed the door to the balcony shut and let out a grunt of frustration. She then walked over to the balcony to put her head down onto the railing. Aang watched her quietly from the bench. “Katara, we need to talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” she huffed moodily, still staring out at the horizon. The sun was almost completely set by now, just a small sliver of it that was reaching out towards her.

“I had a feeling people were going to start asking us this, that’s why I’ve been really wanting to talk about it with you, but you keep avoiding this,” he said gently, standing up to walk towards her and putting hand on the small of her back. “I could make you a necklace first if that’s what you’ve been waiting for, well I have been car-”

“No!” Katara said, protectively placing a hand onto her mother’s necklace and backing away, “No, I don’t want a new necklace.”

“Well, what do you want? We need to talk,” Aang repeated.

“But I’ve already told you how I feel about this. Yes, I want kids someday, sure, but on my terms. I’ve been acting like a mother since mine died, and I want my freedom Aang. I never got the chance to be young and, I’m just not ready,” Katara spoke feeling as if they had been here before. The moon began to shine above them as the sky went dark.

“But, when will you be ready?” Aang pleaded.

“I don’t know, I’m just confused right now and I can’t give you an answer. I… I don’t know if I’ll ever have an answer for you…” Katara trailed off.

“Katara, being a dad, it’s not only something that I really want, but it’s also a duty I have to fulfil. It’s my destiny to bring balance to the world, our destiny,” he said reaching to hold her hands in his.

“Well, I didn’t know that falling in love with the Avatar meant I would have to sacrifice so much!” Katara yelled in frustration dropping her hands out of his grasp.

“Sacrifice?” Aang asked, his voice cracking in hurt.

“Yes! This is a sacrifice! I don’t want to be a breeding farm for airbenders! Or give up my culture to serve another! Or lose myself in your projects!” Katara shouted, her anger getting the better of her. She was saying things that she had hid deep inside her soul, things she never wanted to tell him because she couldn’t bear the pain it would cause.

“I’m not asking you to do any of those things!” Aang yelled back at her.

“Yes, you are, that’s exactly what you ask of me every day, how do you not see that? Where am I in any of this? People don’t even remember what I have done, what I have given up already to bring peace to the world. Where is my peace?!” She couldn’t stop the hot, angry tears from spilling down her face at this point. Everything she had been holding in was spilling out of her in thunderous waves of hurt. Every breath was strained with emotion.

“I thought I was your peace, like how you’re mine.” Aang whispered, tears filling his eyes as well.

“I thought you were too, but…” Katara said and turned away from those eyes, so filled with hurt and betray. Her guilt was eating her alive. She sobbed inwards, crossing her arms over her chest as if she could hold herself together.

“I’m not anymore. Am I?” he asked, emotion welling in his throat.

Katara’s sobs turned silent now, but the tears wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t see out her eyes. Why was this so hard? What had happened? This place, once lovely, now was her prison. She cried, “I don’t know why you stopped, why I stopped.”

“Do you think I could be it again?” he croaked out.

“I don’t know,” she whispered back, staring at the dark waves below.

They stood there, her back still turned to him, silently crying for an interterminal amount of time. At one point, Aang reached out towards her, taking one step, but then stopped. His reach hung in the air for a full breath, but then he turned and walked away. Out of the balcony, out of the building, and took off towards the skies on his glider. She was left to drown in a bed of her own making.

That night, Katara packed a bag.

[lunarthecorvus]

Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa Major Character Death fanfiction recommendations

part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

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Slipping away by @ven-brekker

Wordcount: 1,689 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker

Tags: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Blood and Injury, Kanej - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Touch-Averse Kaz Brekker, Whump, Major Character Injury

Author's summary/notes: “Keep talking, Wraith. Don’t slip away from me.” “But it’s what I do best.” - Six of Crows, Ch. 12 Inej waits for her Saints to finally have her. My summary/notes: Now this fic is the of major character death whump. There is no ambiguous ending its a death fic to its end. It cuts deep and would definitely fulfill the death fic mood. It HURTS and will make you bawl.

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

for once, my teeth bleed for you by @pbandjeremiah

Wordcount: 1,903 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa

Tags: this is upsetting, Major character death - Freeform, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Mix of Show and Book Canon, Hurt No Comfort, kaz and inej loving and respecting each other SO DAMN MUCH, i'm sorry this is sad but like, married kanej, shadow summoner kaz, kaz is a grisha

Author's summary/notes: For once, Kaz Brekker didn't have a plan. For once, it was going to cost him all that he had. Kaz and Inej are put on trial for murder and crimes against Ghezen. Neither of them are going to survive this. My summary/notes: This was one of the first kanej death fics I read and I still adore it now. It really shows the lengths kanej will go to protect and respect each others wishes.

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our youth will take the blame by @pinspec

Wordcount: 3,612 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck

Tags: Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Denial, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst, Sad Ending, Protective Kaz Brekker, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, kaz is so in love with inej it actually hurts, neither of them can say 'i love you', please don't sue me

Author's summary/notes: A mission goes badly wrong, and amidst the carnage Kaz fails to save his Wraith. My summary/notes: This shit hurts. Just everything about this hurts. However in my opinion the ending provides a sense of comfort at least...

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she was supposed to come back by maryadmitrievnalikesundays

Wordcount: 2,840 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Wylan Van Eck, Jesper Fahey

Tags: Character Death, Death, Grief/Mourning, Madness, Descent into Madness, Insanity, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Author's summary/notes: She was always supposed to return. That was the deal—eight months at sea, four by his side. Eight months of letters and news clippings with her name saved in the locked drawer in his desk. Eight months of yearning, working, killing, waiting for her to come back and give it all meaning. And then The Wraith would roll into port, and the Ketterdam clouds would break, and the King and Queen of the Barrel would walk back home together, hand in hand. But ten months have come and gone since her last departure. And the sky is thick and dense with clouds, and the only thing in his hand is a knife. —— Or, the one thing that could push the Bastard of the Barrel past his breaking point. My summary/notes: I'm not kidding you, the title is enough to make my heart hurt. Be warned that this as depictions of very bad mental health, in case of any triggers <3

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Who lives, who dies, who tells your story by leehab23

Wordcount: 4,717 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar

Tags: Sad with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Character Death, Some mourners some funerals, I just really think this whole city would go to pieces without him, Some rule of wolves spoilers related to Nina, Book 2: Rule of Wolves Spoilers, Minor violence in the beginning, Minor obstruction of correspondence at the end, somewhat happy I promise, or at least I think so

Author's summary/notes: He continued on, speaking of Kaz’s good deeds, of the great man that lay in hiding behind the terrible one. Of Kaz’s legendary brains, unbelievable grit, and overwhelming impact on the city he called home. As he spoke, he noticed movement in the back of the crowd. Fighting? Fleeing? Wylan couldn’t tell. The ripples grew wider, men and women tripping over themselves to move away from the center of the street. Suddenly a path cleared, as though the crowd had been cleanly torn in half by the point of a sharp knife. “Inej,” Jesper breathed. OR: All of Ketterdam is left reeling in the wake of Kaz Brekker’s death. Despite his frequent objections to the concept, there are mourners and a funeral. My summary/notes: When reading kanej death fics I have noticed that there is less Kaz death fics compared to Inej death fics. So if you're in the mood for a Kaz death fic (I have been many times, don't ask me why but I find it so interesting reading Inej's reaction to Kaz dying). You will feel Inej's pain and it hurts so much. And this fic has Nina helping Nina through the pain and them bonding over dead partners..

[flatassthrowaway]

Passionately and Deeply

~Chapter Two~

New to the series? Read the prologue!

As always, let me know what you think! Enjoy!

“Well, perhaps if you’re Irish, you may enjoy the leprecorn,” he told me about his most vexing oddity that he discovered in his younger years as we strolled through the streets of downtown Gravity Falls.

“And it plays ‘Danny Boy’ through its horn? Come on Ford! You don’t like that song?” I asked.

“The song itself is fine. The way that leprecorn plays it is maddening,” he said, making me laugh.

We’ve been hanging out like this since that fateful night when his brother was mean to me. That was almost a month ago, and it’s the first day of spring.

Since then, I found that he lives at a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack with his twin brother. He also neglected to tell me he had a twin brother. Soos (who is the one who runs the show) aka Mr. Mystery, Melody, and Abuelita also live there, and his great-niblings also come to visit during the summer.

That shack looks so small from the outside, but… it must be one of those houses that’s actually a lot bigger on the inside.

I would know, because I actually spent quite a bit of time in that house. While Ford was working on his projects, I took the time to either complete my work alongside him or raid his bookshelf. When I raided his bookshelf, I found that he had the Lord of the Rings series. That series always interested me, but I never got a chance to read them.

Ford also introduced me to a game he adored called Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons. Thankfully, he guided me along the way, but it was confusing when first starting. I did enjoy FCLORPing, which seemed similar to this, so it ended up being fun for me too once I started to catch on, and I knew what the rules were.

I also hooked up an Apple TV to their own TV (which was surprisingly compatible with the newest technology, but I’m not going to question it), and we’ve been watching documentaries on Netflix. From Blackfish, to Mission Blue, it’s held our attention pretty well.

And it’s bonded us closer. Not only us, but Soos, Melody, and even Abuelita.

Speaking of Soos and Melody, she is about to give birth any day now. She is officially on bed rest, and Abuelita and Soos pamper her.

I hope I have that when I start having children. I’ve been longing for a strong, familial unit of my own for a while now.

The only one who still isn’t my biggest fan is Stan. I thought since I showed everyone who I was that he would start to ease up on his rough attitude towards me, but… no. He still doesn’t like the fact that I’m hanging around his brother.

It’s making me question if I’m doing something wrong. It’s a little too late to say that Ford and I should stop being friends, because we would both be hurt in the long run. We work really well together, and… honestly, I can’t picture not having him in my life anymore.

“Hey,” Ford said my name. “Are you up for a little trek? I want to show you something that I’ve only shown a select few.”

“Really? What is it?” I asked.

Ford smiled. “It’s something so rare, not even my brother has seen it. Only my closest friend and my great nephew have seen this.”

“C’mon, quit holding out on me, dude! You have to show me this thing!” I nudged his shoulder.

Ford put his hands up in defense, smiling jovially. “Alright, alright,” he said, as if he wasn’t the one who tried to get me all excited to see this object of his suggestion. “If you insist.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Shut up!”

“I never said anything, dear.”

We walked along a path into the forest, where I admired all of the wildlife along the way. Deer, squirrels… gnomes… minotaurs… handsome men…

Wait, what?!

I whipped my head around as we walked to look at a random blonde haired blue eyed man in designer clothing sniffing the ground as if he were a dog, and lifted his bottom in the air as he walked on all fours.

Ford had noticed I stopped, and grabbed my shoulders to keep me moving. “Come along, dear.”

I looked over my shoulder to keep staring at that man. That was a sight I never thought I’d see. It’s almost like that man was completely feral. I looked up at Ford, and he was completely unfazed.

Well, it’s Gravity Falls. If it’s not weird, that’s what’s unusual.

We arrived at a clearing that overlooked a strange shape in the cliff facing it. It was mostly what you’d expect a grassy clearing to look like, except there was a small hill in the middle of the clearing.

“Woah… what is this place?” I asked, in awe of its beauty.

“This is the Crash Site Omega or the CSO for short,” he told me. “It’s a place that… well… only the closest people to me have seen.”

“I can see why,” I told him, turning to see the town. “The view from here is amazing! You can almost see the whole town from here.”

He smiled. “Exactly,” he said. “And… there’s also another reason why I brought you here.”

I turned to him as he walked up to where I was standing. “Yeah? What’s that?” I asked.

“Later tonight, I was planning to stargaze here. Apparently, a meteor shower is supposed to take place at eight thirty,” he told me. “I checked the calculations myself, and for once, the news is correct. And… I would like it if you joined me.”

I nodded eagerly. “Definitely! This will be my first meteor shower!” I told him.

Ford smiled. “This will be the first meteor shower that I’ve seen in over thirty years,” he told me.

“Now we have to make it extra special!” I said, before my face dropped. “What does one bring to a meteor shower to make it special?”

He chuckled. “For starters, some may bring lawn chairs or blankets, but I settle for the latter,” Ford said. “They’re much comfier to sit upon.”

“Ah, that’s it!” I exclaimed. “I’ll provide the hot chocolate! We just… have to meet in town again. I don’t know how to get back here, even if I tried.”

Ford chuckled. “Not to worry, dear,” he told me. “You can meet me by that clock with the fist indent in the pole at 7:30.”

I smiled. “Great! It’s a date. See ya later, Ford!” I told him, going on my way back to town.

Before I could even make it a yard away, Ford called my name. “The way to town is that way,” he told me, pointing in the opposite direction to where I was going.

I felt my face get hot with embarrassment. “I knew that,” I told him. “I was just testing you to make sure you knew that, too.”

Ford laughed at my bullshit excuse. “Let’s get you to town safely,” he said as he began leading the way.

“My hero!” I cheered, running to catch up with him. He cracked a smile, and looked at the trees. His ears turned a little red… unless they were already red from before. I mean, it is the first day of spring, so it is still a little cool.

Ford led me back to town, and from there I bought a whole box of hot chocolate. I returned around 7:30 to the clock with the fist indented pole with my thermos and two mugs and waited for him to arrive. Thankfully, he didn’t keep me waiting long, and had the flannel blanket underneath his arm.

“Shall we get going, my dear?” he asked.

I nodded, smiling at him. “We shall.”

We both softly laughed as we made our way back to the Crash Site Omega, or the CSO to set up camp. Ford straightened out the blanket on the grass as I poured the hot chocolate in the mugs.

Once he was finished, we both sat on the blanket and placed our mugs together with a small clink. Afterwards, we watched over the night sky with no sound but the crickets playing their lovely melody for us.

After a while, the meteor shower started. Never did I see so many natural lights in the sky at once. It was breathtaking, how the meteors danced across the sky. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the display that nature had gifted us on this sunday night.

Good thing I’m off tomorrow.

The peak activity started to die down a few hours later, and Ford decided to break the comfortable silence between us by calling my name. I looked at him.

“You know, it’s rather rare for a meteor shower to be so visible at this time,” he said with a smile on his face. “They usually appear after midnight, and this is usually due to the fact that the Earth is facing forward in its orbit, which means more space debris may be encountered.”

“Woah… that’s so riveting,” I said, looking at the night sky again.

It started to hurt to crane my neck to look up at the night sky, so I laid down on the blanket. I think Ford had the same idea, as he laid down next to me.

“Ford.”

“Yes, dear?”

“What do you think happens when we die?” I asked.

“What an abrupt question…” he said.

“I don’t know why staring at this meteor shower triggered it, but… I was just curious what you thought.”

“Well…” he started. “I believe there is some sort of afterlife.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” he said. “To be honest… I believe that when we die, we gain all the knowledge we lacked in this life, as without our physical bodies holding us back… we can achieve so much more as spiritual beings.”

“Wow… Stanford, that’s really profound…”

“Isn’t it?” he said. “That, and we get to traverse the universe without harm. We are observers, but there is the rare chance that we can meddle in the physical world, just very subtly, though.”

I sighed with a smile. Being here, with him… it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside… almost as if the voice inside of me is telling me that I was supposed to be here, at this exact time, in this exact location, with this exact person, talking about… this.

This must be what it feels like to be at peace.

“What about you, dear? What do you believe?” he asked.

“I believe the same as you, believe it or not,” I told him. “I feel a strong lull from the universe, like I am exactly where I need to be at this moment.”

I’m being really vulnerable with him right now… maybe a little too vulnerable.

He must think I’m insane for saying something like that.

“It’s extraordinary that you said that,” he said my name, looking into my eyes. “Because I feel the same way. I was supposed to be here at this exact moment… with you.”

I smiled serenely, looking into his copper brown eyes. “So you feel the same way.”

Ford nodded, looking back at the night sky. “I… was honestly afraid of how quickly our relationship formed,” he admitted. “I thought I had been finally losing my mind… but I think I finally found someone with whom I can be my complete self.”

I felt my eyelids become heavier as I turned my gaze to the meteor shower, maintaining my smile. “I completely concur…” I said, my eyelids closing.

💚

A/N: I've been thinking about uploading on Saturdays instead of Fridays for this series, but it depends on how I feel. If you've read to this point, thanks for reading!

Next part is here! Click for childfree route!

Click for other route!

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and he wants you to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI, Angst,Fluff,Eventual Smut,Hurt, Comfort,MMF dynamics. General warnings for each chapter. Anything sensitive will be added to individual chapters.

WK-5.5K

A/N-This starts out angsty but I don’t write sad endings so keep that in mind going forward. Reader has a best friend very near and dear to my heart.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter I

Dave looks over the file on his desk again before he makes the call. He reviewed it the night before and was going to contact the client until he realized not everyone holds the same weird hours as he does. Insomnia. 

  He takes a sip of his coffee as he dials the number with a Florida area code. At least he would get to enjoy some nice weather this time. The last soulmate he tracked down mid winter lived in Buffalo New York, he wasted weeks trying to find him only to find out he was happily married and had no intention of leaving his current wife. The woman who hired him was devastated but…devastated doesn’t pay the bills so she was out twenty grand, and went back to being single a few states over. 

  They don’t always end in misery but he’s used to it now. He wonders why he still does it, maybe helping these people will erase the thought of killing someone’s soulmate when he’s contracted for his other job. He can’t think about that one too much. 

  “Hello Santiago speaking.” Dave glances down at the file once more to be sure. 

  “Ugh yes I’m Dave York calling to reach Francisco Morales?” He hears a low curse on the other end and some apologies. 

  “Oh ya, just give me a second.” He can hear ruffling and the sound of a sliding door. My patience is already wearing thin. 

  “Thanks for returning my call. I’m actually hiring you on behalf of my friend Francisco.” 

  This wouldn’t be the first time he was contracted to find someone’s soulmate because some friend or family member couldn’t keep their nose where it belonged. There would most certainly be drama and resistance. Two things Dave did not handle well. 

  “That’s very generous of you. Is Francisco eager to find his soulmate?” 

  “He ugh…well…yes, yes he is.” Fat chance

  “I would need to meet him of course to go through with this, you understand?” 

  “Of course, that won’t be a problem at all. I sent you the details of when and where we can meet and provided you with the deposit.” At least he means business, either way Dave doesn’t care about the in’s and outs of why people do it. He knows it’s important… or at least he did. 

  He finishes going over the rules with Santiago that will hopefully get relaid to Frankie. He’ll find your soulmate and set up a meeting. If the person does not wish to pursue the relationship he will relay that to you to avoid any in person embarrassment. No stalking or harassment involved. If he can’t find them within 30 days you get your money back. 

  Some people frowned upon what he did. Purists thought you should meet your soulmate organically. They were rarely alone for more than a few years before they found theirs so he didn’t like listening to what they had to say. 

  He wasted years trying to find his love. When he did find her…it was already too late. Those six months were the best and worst of his life. Knowing he’s found his soulmate and gets to spend every waking moment with her only to have it ripped from his grasp. 

  If he had to spend the rest of his tortured life helping others not waste time then he would. 

  ****

  Why the hell did Will make them wear bow ties? This must be Amanda’s suggestion, there’s no way he decided they should all be this uncomfortable on his wedding day. 

  Frankie looks over at Ben and Will having some brotherly talk as if the younger miller has some wise words of advice having been married for all of six months. He loved rubbing it in that he was able to tie the knot before the rest of them of course excluding Tom who got married years ago when they were all in basic. 

  He tries really hard not to be bitter on these days but he can’t help himself. Of course he ran that risk when he married someone who was not his soulmate. He loved Sophia so much it didn’t matter to him. It’s worked out for plenty of other people and it worked for him…until it didn’t. 

  He didn’t try very hard to find his soulmate. Between being in the military, not being able to put down roots for so long and the fact that his soulmate probably hated him for all his scars and tattoos he can’t say he put much of an effort into finding them. 

  The hummingbird tattoo on his wrist practically taunted him his entire marriage. He pretended he didn’t care and so did she. She always told him they would try for kids when she was ready and he never pushed. He thought she was finally ready when she told him they needed to talk. Never in a million years did he expect her to say she found her soulmate and she was leaving him. 

  Their baby boy should be a year old by now, Sophia was pregnant within a month of the divorce being finalized. This was information Santiago insisted despite the others protests that he needed to know so that he could move on. 

  He can’t put the blame all on her. He left for Colombia to bring home money so they could start a family and he came home with nothing but news that her best friend's husband was dead. 

  It must be some kind of fucked up karma that they went back for the money and now he’s alone. If he’s really being honest with himself, he knows they never really loved each other. It was convenient for both of them. Frankie doesn’t like being honest with himself so he'd rather continue on painting her as the villain in his story. 

  “Hermano, you need some help with that tie.” Santiago starts fidgeting before he can even answer no. He slaps his hands away and Santi backs away with his hands up in surrender. 

  “Why are you being so nice?” 

  “I’m always nice.” Frankie scoffs at that. Santiago was never nice unless he wanted something from you. 

  “You picked up my tux, gave me a ride here and now you’re offering to fix my tie?!” He gives him a look and Santi knows it’s only a matter of time. 

  “I have a surprise for you.” He resumes fixing his tie despite Frankie’s protests. 

  “The last time you surprised me someone died.” Santi clears his throat but doesn’t protest, it must be bad. 

  “I hired a PI to find your soulmate.” That last part is rushed out but Frankie hears him clear as day. 

  He shoves him back a few steps which draws the attention of Ben and Will. “Why the fuck would you do that?” 

  “Chill out Fish, what’s your problem?” Ben steps between the two of them as Frankie looks as though he could spit fire. 

  “I told him about the PI.” Ben whips around to Santi. 

  “I thought we were gonna wait until tomorrow.” Frankie looks over at Will in disbelief. 

  “You fucking knew about this?” He can see it in their eyes and how no one will look at him directly.

  “Can we please talk about this tomorrow? I’m getting married in an hour.” 

  Sure he’ll talk tomorrow, they can all talk about staying out of his life and meddling in his business. Pope can call off the PI and they can all go back to being happy with their soulmates and Santiago can go fuck off somewhere in another country as he always does, leaving Frankie to mope alone with his thoughts. 

  “Ya we’ll talk tomorrow.” Ben comes over to fix his tie and Frankie clenches his fists at his side. 

  This is going to be a long day. 

  ****

  The new Mr.& Mrs. Miller do look very in love on the dance floor as Frankie enjoys his second piece of cake. Cake never betrayed him…his ex wife and his best friends maybe but never cake. 

  Ben dips his wife and it sorely reminds him of his wedding day when he and Sophia ended up with calloused feet from dancing all night. 

  His chest tightens at the sight of Molly dancing with her girls. She stayed so strong through it all and she looks so happy, maybe it’s just a front or maybe she’s choosing not to be a miserable sap like him. She lost her soulmate and never once judged them for what they did. She knew how Tom could be. Frankie doesn’t know how someone could treat their soulmate the way Tom treated Molly. He’s better off alone than with a soulmate who doesn’t love him back. 

  Santiago makes his way over to the table and gestures to the seat next to Frankie. He nods his head for him to sit down while he watches the dance floor. They sit in silence for a moment and Frankie thinks about how selfish he is for being so petulant about the whole thing. 

  Santiago never cared about finding his soulmate, maybe because of their line of work or maybe it was the nature of his being. He’ll never forget the look on his face when his tattoo’s disappeared. He told the guys it was fine but they could hear him trying to muffle his cries in his bunk. 

  “I’ll do it Pope.” Santiago looks at him with a mixture of shock and excitement. 

  “I came ready for an argument.” He slides Frankie’s plate closer to him to steal a bite of cake. “We meet him tomorrow.” 

  “Jesus what if I said no?” Frankie slides the plate back to himself, not ready to let go of his precious dessert. 

  “You might want to lay off the cake if you’re going to meet your soulmate soon.” Frankie flips him off as Santi grabs the plate and saunters off to the dance floor. 

  ****

  Dave’s always early to meet a client, but never this early. He couldn’t find a lot of information on Francisco Morales but he did find out he was Delta Force and so was the man that hired him on his behalf. He always met potential clients in a public place of their choosing to get an idea of who they are. There's no doubt in his mind that this coffee shop holds no significance to the two men and will most certainly not help him figure out anything about Francisco. 

  He knows it’s their military training that they will never seem to break free from. It doesn’t make it easy for your soulmate to find you when you're as mysterious as Francisco Morales. No social media, no parking tickets, no convictions. A minor hiccup with his pilot's license but his record was scrubbed clean a few years ago. It takes a lot of money to completely wipe your record. 

  Their trip to Colombia wasn’t as off the books as they thought. With Dave’s connections he can find out a lot more about the average person than they think. It’s true he is paid to find your soulmate but he has a duty to uphold to not put said person in harm's way. Frankie’s sketchy past and interesting finances make him a little wary to just introduce him to the person he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. He doesn’t know the circumstances behind his wife leaving him and that also has his guard up. Who just up and leaves after 8 years? 

  He pauses his thoughts momentarily as he notices an old Jeep pull into the parking lot of the cafe. He hasn’t seen a Jeep like that in years. His suspicions are correct when two men around his age step out. Still relatively in military shape, the shorter of the two in a black t-shirt much too tight for him and black jeans. The taller one in an open flannel and blue jeans donning a dirty cap and aviators…that must be Francisco. 

  They both survey the area as if it’s their first time here and that confirms his other notion that these men wanted to meet somewhere not near their home. Probably thirty minutes to an hour outside of where they actually live if he would guess. Fifteen minutes early to be safe but still not earlier than him. 

  “I should’ve worn something nicer.” Frankie smooths his hands down the front of his worn flannel as they approach the coffee shop. This was his nice flannel but maybe he could’ve taken an iron to it or something. 

  “Relax hermano, he didn’t bring your soulmate to the meeting.” 

  “You vetted this guy?” Frankie couldn’t find much information on David York, which worried him a little. 

  “As much as I could.” Frankie holds the door open for Santiago as they enter and head straight for the counter. Coffee is much needed after imbibing too much at the wedding. He’s grateful in hindsight that he chose this location just outside of town. 

  “Corner,black suit.” 

  Frankie glances up, hopefully shielded by his sunglasses. “He looks smug.” 

  “Don’t start.” Santi hisses under his breath as he steps up to place their order. “ Two black coffees please.” 

  Best case scenario, this guy finds his soulmate and Frankie can’t even wrap his head around what he would do with that information. It scares him to even think about it. 

  Worst case scenario, Pope is out some money that he didn’t ask him to spend in the first place and he can go back to whatever semblance of a life he was living before all this. 

  Way to be positive Frankie

  ****

  Introductions are awkward to say the least. Frankie and Santi seated at the small cafe table across from Dave who has set a notepad down next to his small coffee. The silence is deafening as he scribbled down a few things after giving them a once over. 

  “So I’m sure you have some questions for me. If you don’t mind holding those until I’ve gone over everything.” He’s not really asking and Frankie already had his hackles up at the grim outlook of the man in front of him. 

  He always hated ‘suits’ . This guy is obviously ex-government and he’s not really sure how someone like him ended up in the line of work of finding someone’s soulmate. Besides the obvious monetary aspect there is a lot of love and emotion involved and the man seated before him doesn’t strike him as the romantic type. 

  “Why did you decide to hire me to find your soulmate?” I didn’t hire you. Frankie looks over at Santiago hoping he’ll help him out a little. 

  “Well ugh…I actually didn’t.” Dave raises his eyebrows at that but lets him continue. “My friend here was kind enough to give me a push in the right direction.” After too many drinks and a lot of talking he reconciled with Santi that this was something he should at least try to pursue. 

  Everything seems pretty straightforward once he starts going over his normal way of doing things. Frankie understands after the initial round of uncomfortable questions that Dave needs to make sure he’s not some weirdo. He opted to return a few peoples initial deposit upon meeting them and not deeming them safe enough or sane enough to track down their soulmate and uproot their lives. 

  Frankie’s thankful he doesn’t pry too much into his reason for divorcing. Dave mostly wanted to make sure that he was not still legally married because he won’t set anyone up for heartbreak. 

  Dave has a thirty day guarantee, if he doesn’t find them in that time frame you get a full refund. Frankie is a little shocked at his confidence. People spend their entire lives trying to find their soulmate and he can somehow guarantee it. 

  “So, now that I’ve gone over all the logistics. Do you have any questions for me?” Frankie looks to Santiago who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout this meeting. Maybe out of courtesy for Frankie or perhaps he’s sizing him up. Either way, Frankie really only has one thing he is curious about. 

  “Why do you do it?” 

  Dave takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee. It’s pretty bad if he’s being honest but he needs a moment. He always needs a moment when this question is brought up. It’s usually one of the only questions he hates answering. Truthfully answering would require to let people in ‘strangers’. 

  These same strangers trust him enough to do this so as uncomfortable as it is he provides enough of an answer to suit both parties. 

  “I hate to say that it pays well, but I have to state the obvious.” For the first time during the meeting Frankie can see his hard exterior crack a little. The first time where he seems nervous and unsure of what he’s going to say. 

  “Also…I wish I had met my wife sooner. I may have had more time with her.” 

  Santiago excuses himself from the table. He doesn’t do well with emotions. Frankie knows that probably stung a little. He’s not sure if it’s worse that Santi never got to meet them or if meeting them briefly makes it all that more painful. 

  “I appreciate your honesty Dave.” He sends him a tight lip smile that doesn’t meet the eyes. 

  “If that’s all you have for me I’ll be in touch in the next few days hopefully with an update.” 

  Frankie shakes his hand, a firm handshake he notes to himself. Dave has a nice build, he’s not sure why he makes a note of that as well. 

  Frankie finished the rest of his coffee and headed outside. Santi leans against the back of the Jeep scrolling idly on his phone. He looks up at him but says nothing as they both get in, Frankie in the driver's seat. 

  “I just needed some air.” Santiago looks out the passenger window seemingly fixated on the passing cars. 

  “I know hermano.” He doesn’t need to say anything more. 

  Neither of them speak for a while, too many thoughts on their minds as they ponder the meeting and what all of it means. Seeing Santiago still struggling with losing his soulmate makes Frankie want to give this his all. 

  ****

  Santi can’t shake the thought of Dave doing all this because he didn’t have enough time with his soulmate. At least he got to spend some time with them. He's lied to himself all these years after his tattoos and scars of his soulmate were long gone. This was not about him though, this is about helping his friend move on and be happy. That’s all he wants for them after the chaos he caused in Colombia. He has to make things right for him. Frankie may not see it as his fault but Santiago can’t help but think maybe Sophia would’ve stayed if things hadn’t gone so poorly. 

  Santiago would never know that things started to sour in their relationship long before that Ill fated trip to steal someone else’s money. 

  Frankie was the one who had it all together. A real job he could be proud of , a wife he loved , a house for their future family. Things quickly fell apart for him after they returned and he was no longer the one that they looked to for guidance. 

  Santiago made it his mission to help Frankie get back on his feet after they went back for the money. Frankie got his license back, he bought a home that didn’t remind him of all his memories with his ex wife, now all he needed to do was find love. 

  Santi rubs his hands across his jeans trying to shake himself from the trance. Frankie eyes him cautiously from the driver’s seat. 

  Santiago leans forward to turn the radio down. “So how are you feeling about all this?” 

  “Considering he has a guarantee, a little better than I felt going in.” 

  He doesn't want to get his hopes up too much but he’s starting to get that feeling like things may be taking a turn for the better. 

  Frankie pulls up to Santi’s house and puts the car in park. 

  “I know what you’re gonna say, I’ll be fine I promise and I’ll call you later after I sleep off this hangover.” Frankie smiles at that,Santiago only lets a select few into his world and he won’t push it any further. 

  “I just want to say thanks Pope. This really means a lot.” Santi waves him off and hops out, he knows how much it means but he’s not gonna get any more emotions out of this day. 

  “Love you hermano, this time next year we’ll be planning your wedding.” Santi calls out over his shoulder before he enters his house. Frankie wants to roll his eyes at that but he secretly hopes that he’s right. 

  ****

  “Alicia! We’re gonna be late.” You stand in your bedroom in front of the floor length mirror putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The modest yellow sundress and strappy heels you bought ages ago are finally getting some use. 

  “I can’t decide on what to wear.” You faintly hear her yell from her bedroom. 

  You’re not particularly excited about this singles event she signed you up for but you certainly didn’t want to walk in late and have all eyes on you. She’s your best friend so you agreed to accompany her on one of her many schemes to get you back on the dating scene. 

  You cross the hall to her room and find a mountain of clothes on her bed and more clothes flying out of her closet. 

  “Let me see what you’re wearing.” She emerges from her closet in a slinky black dress to match her long black hair. She was a bombshell in anything she wore so you aren’t sure what the hold up is. 

  “Alicia that looks hot, wear that.” She gives herself a once over in the mirror as she smooths her hands down the front. 

  “You don’t think this is sending the wrong message?” 

  “Babe you said yourself you need to get laid.” You glance down at the time on your phone. “Shit we’re gonna be really late.”

  “You’re right, I did say that. Thanks for talking me off a ledge.” She grabs her phone from the nightstand as you follow her out of the room. 

  “You’re gonna need to pretend my room is yours if you bring someone home though.” You gesture towards the disaster she left on her bed. 

  She turns to you, grabbing your face and kissing your forehead. “Only a true friend would let me defile her bed for the sake of a hookup.”

  You laugh as you shoo her along out the door. “That’s what friends are for.”

  ****

  The bad news, you were indeed late. The good news is no one seems to notice as you both enter the hotel lounge for the event. Everyone is talking and mingling amongst themselves so you and Alicia have an opportunity to grab a drink and settle in. 

  You haven’t been on a proper date in years so she thought this would be a nice way to ease back into things. No pressure or obligations and no awkward first date etiquette. People were just here to simply talk and get to know each other. If you made a connection that was great but if you just didn’t like someone then there were no hard feelings. 

  “Cute guy at twelve o'clock is checking you out.” You try to do a subtle scan of the room as you sip your fruity drink. 

  “Alicia I don’t know what that means…Wait how do you know he wasn’t checking you out?” She steps in front of you to slightly block your view. 

  “He’s in the gray button down on my right .” She half whispers as she attempts a head nod. “Do you see him?” 

  “Oh shit he’s coming over here.” You both do your best worst to act casual as a tall and very attractive…distractingly attractive man walks over. 

  “I do have to say yellow is definitely your color.” 

  “Told you.” Alicia says under her breath as she leaves you at the bar with this stranger. 

  You thank him politely for his compliment and introduce yourself as you try to ignore the lewd gestures your best friend is making with her hands behind his back. Thankfully she’s interrupted by a man with a tap on her shoulder. He’s noticeably not the type she goes for. He’s much too tall for her…she prefers to tower over her love interests ‘it makes me feel powerful’ in her words. 

  Jeff was nice enough as he engaged you in conversation. He mostly droned on about his job in finance and his hobbies, his five year goals and now come to think of it…you didn’t really get a chance to talk about yourself. He excused himself from the conversation when he saw someone he knew in the crowd, leaving you in your comfortable silence once again. 

  Your moment of reprieve is short lived when a woman approaches you. You actually enjoy talking to her and you can tell she’s listening intently. She’s beautiful, funny and smart. Perhaps another time you would be interested but she mentioned she just got out of a long term relationship and you don’t have the energy to be someone’s rebound. You’ve spent years repairing your broken heart and if this is your one attempt at trying to find love again it just wouldn’t be fair to either of you. 

  You still exchanged numbers after she’d said how nice it was to meet you. Your eyes immediately find Alicia’s across the room with a man who could be her grandfather. He doesn’t seem to notice her look of save me etched across her face. You take this moment to tease her a bit, making the same hand motions she did earlier. An older woman looks on in shock when you realize a little too late that you’ve caught the attention of others in the room. 

  After offering an apologetic smile, you gather yourself and join her across the room. 

  “Sorry to interrupt, Alicia, can I borrow you for a moment.”

   She loops her arm in yours pulling you close to her side. “It was nice to meet you Irving.”

  “The pleasure is all mine dear.” He takes her free hand, planting a sloppy wet kiss on the top. You bite your cheek to stifle a laugh as she waves him off. You can feel her eyes on you as you exit the lounge. 

  If looks could kill you’d be a goner. 

  “Irving seemed nice.”

  “Shut up.” 

  You both burst into a fit of giggles as you make it safely to the hotel lobby out of sight of anyone trying to vy for your attention. 

  These were the moments you lived for with your best friend. The reason you were able to get back on your feet when you moved across the country to start your life over. She took you in like a stray cat, no questions asked when you replied to her ad looking for a roommate. You didn’t find out until later on that she didn’t need the money, she just hated living alone. 

  She came from a wealthy family and traveled the world before settling in Naples Florida. She never had a soulmate…it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to go their entire lives without so much as a mark or tattoo. It makes you wonder if the universe chooses at random or if people are destined for that path. She is such a free spirit it almost makes sense why she can’t be tied down to just one person. Her biggest problem is making sure her current interests aren't only after her for money. 

  “So…what’s the plan for the rest of the evening babe?” You both step out still arm in arm. It’s a beautiful sunset starting just over the tops of the buildings downtown. You could walk down to the beach or drab a drink at another bar. 

  You can feel your dress starting to cling to your back from the humidity and you made a huge mistake wearing heels that weren’t broken in yet. Alicia looks at you and then pulls out her phone to call a car to come get you. “Let’s go home and eat ice cream while we discuss what a train wreck that was.” 

  You let out a sigh of relief as you push back trying to stand on the heels of your feet. “That sounds like a perfect night.” 

  ****

  “At one point he actually took his dentures out to show me.” Alicia buries her head in the pillow as you make a disgusted face. 

  “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” You’re laughing to the point of a stomach ache. 

  “Ya, you sound really sorry.” She throws the pillow at you on the other end of the couch. “So tell me about the girl. You were talking to her for a while.” She raises one eyebrow at you as she reaches down to the coffee table for the carton of rocky road. 

  “She was nice.” You lean forward grabbing the carton from her hands. “She was more than nice actually…but she just got out of a serious relationship.” 

  “Ugh…no one wants to be a rebound.” 

  Your thoughts exactly. 

  You swear sometimes you share a brain, or maybe you have just spent so much time with each other that you can’t help but think alike. 

  “I’m glad we went, I needed to break the ice. It’s not like the love of my life is gonna waltz into the record store.” You loved your job, you always had a love for music. There was something so special about the medium of records standing the test of time. That’s the kind of love you wanted. 

  “Let’s just marry each other if this dating thing doesn’t work out.” She holds out her pinky as you wrap yours around hers. 

  “Deal.” 

  “Deal.” 

  You raise from the couch gathering your plush blankets. “I’m gonna turn in for the night, love you leesh.” 

  “Love you too hon’, get some sleep.”

  ****

  Sleep

  That was a joke in its own right. The problem with having anxiety is the one time where your brain should quiet down is when it wants to be the most active. 

  You brush your thumb along the etched roses on your ring finger. It’s such a fine and delicate tattoo, the line work is beautiful and the stem of it perfectly curls around coming to a point at the end of your finger. 

  You hate to assume, but it’s always felt feminine in nature. It doesn’t seem like a drunken mistake or a rushed decision. The tattoo feels intentional. You had a lot of tattoos in a short amount of time when you were in college. These tattoos were overtly masculine. A small Blackhawk tattoo on your left wrist, almost mirroring your hummingbird. A gun of some kind on your left ankle…you weren’t familiar with firearms. A tiny elephant on the inside of your left thigh, by far the most adorable of the set. 

  In short succession they all adorned your body before you graduated from the California Institute of the Arts with a minor in arts management and a major in music history. Your step mother always said it was a waste and your father couldn’t be bothered to defend you. Your mother would have been proud though. 

  It was years before the roses showed up on your finger one beautiful spring day. It was so unlike the others it turned your world upside down. 

  The reason you moved across the country to escape the control and the pressure of someone who couldn’t love you with those scars and tattoos. Resenting you more and more each day knowing that you belonged to someone else. 

  It’s those thoughts that keep you up at night. The nightmares and horrible things that only your mind thinks up. As much as you try to push those thoughts away, you know deep down someone is out there. Made for you. 

  We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses. 

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[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun Park x Reader: this is our place (we make the rules)

Chapter 9 - Probably should read ch1 first

Gun has a new neighbour. Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

Things get a little weird after that.

Gun has ample sexual experience but no relationship experience. He does not know how to take the next step.

(He does know how to pleasure you in bed... though he knows definitively that that’s not the best way to proceed.)

And you are a lost cause, having little experience of anything at all.

You both tiptoe along the blurred line between tentative friends and something more.

The routine continues though it’s not as easy as it once was. You are on edge, reading into every little thing, face blushing and voice stammering at the slightest flirtation or touch.

Gun is Gun. He is how he always is. 

Yet he pulls back a little, taking your reactions as hesitation and uncertainty about him.

It doesn’t stop his eyes lingering on your lips whenever you try to get your words out. 

For the first time in his life, there’s a hunger in him that he knows exactly how to satiate but finds his hands completely tied.

.

.

Gun is the one who graces your front door, a very unusual occurrence especially at this time in the morning. Fully dressed despite the early hours and a duffle bag at his side.

He waits for you to answer, hears your sluggish footsteps approach the door and wonders if this was what it was like for you all those months ago.

The door swings open, and he’s greeted with the sight of you still half asleep and hair wild.

(I want to see this every morning, a hopeful voice in his brain offers. One that has grown confident and loud. Louder than his bloodlust. Louder than his search for a successor.)

“Gun? What time is-” The sentence is cut off with a large yawn.

Even that. Gaping mouth, bleary eyes, the way the yawn travels through your body and you stretch - he finds it endearing.

“I’ll be gone for a few weeks on a business trip.”

Gun pinpoints the exact second his words take hold, your eyes flying open and all signs of sleep gone from your face.

“Few weeks?!”

A brief nod. “If it goes to plan”

“Are you,” you bite your lip, wondering if it’s too forward for you to ask but you choose to bite the bullet instead, “Are you going to keep in touch?”

“When I can, of course,” Gun doesn’t even hesitate, no doubt in his mind that he would.

He does hesitate at his next move though, for a fleeting moment, before he takes a leap of faith and hands you a small envelope.

“Open it when I’m gone.”

“Ok…” Your hands grip the edges tight.

It’s only a few weeks. You’ve already survived many weeks, months, years without him and he said he would be in touch. Why are you feeling such a pang of sadness? 

Gun sees your face drop, lips turning down into a frown and starting to wobble. So he allows himself a small indulgence. Gives in to something he has wanted to do for a while. 

He takes your hand, holding it firm in his, brings it up to his lips and kisses each knuckle. 

Gentle, delicate. He didn’t realise he could ever be this tender.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he murmurs against your skin.

.

.

As soon as Gun is gone, you tear open the envelope.

Out drops a note enclosed around a key, very similar to the one you have.

The handwriting you can never mistake for anyone else’s.

‘Treat my home as if it is your own. Look after it for me.’

Running your finger along the jagged edges, you check to see if this key is actually real and won’t disappear the next time you blink.

Feels solid enough.

You give your wrist a harsh pinch.

Ouch. Fuck. Not a dream either.

You’re not stupid. You know what a grand gesture this is, and one you didn’t think would come from Gun. 

Giving a key to someone else is huge. A big step in a relationship, an even bigger step for you and him because who knows what the hell this is.

Although it is expected, now you think about it. Everything he does has an intensity, never without purpose. 

And actually. A trusted neighbour having your house key is perfectly normal.

(Idiot, a mocking inner voice taunts, you know exactly what this is.)

You grab your phone and fire out a message immediately.

You: your house key?!

You: are you sure? are you comfortable with me being in your apartment without you?

Gun: Yes.

Y/N: so what?? you want me to sleep in your bed? eat your food?

Gun: Don’t break anything and don’t leave a mess.

Y/N: That’s all you have to say?

Gun leaves you on read. 

.

.

He receives a few more texts from you through the day, each time Goo peering over and trying to read his screen.

“Is that Y/N?”

“...”

“Tell her I love her!”

“...”

“Ask her to reconsider the date.”

“Fuck off.”

.

.

On the second day, you cannot focus on anything. Not your lectures, your college course, books, TV. 

Phone incessantly pulled out of your pocket, thinking you heard a phantom buzz.

In the end you think it’s better to have it always in sight or in your hand. 

…Leading to your eyes flickering to the screen every minute. 

By evening, you decide to be the one who reaches out, sick of waiting to see if Gun will message you. Chiding yourself for being so childish in the first place and playing these games. 

And he’s on a business trip. Likely busy as hell.

You angle your dinner in a flattering light, snap a few pics, select the best one along with ‘not as much fun to cook for one’ and press send.

A few hours later you get a response.

A picture of his own meal in what looks like a very upscale restaurant if the plating and tableware is anything to go by.

‘Your food is better.’.

.

.

The third day you get a picture of a breathtaking sunset with mountains in the background.

‘Thinking about you.’

.

.

You return a selfie of you on his sofa the day after.

‘Thinking about you too.’

Gun replies in the next hour: ‘Good.’

.

.

It’s weird how being in Gun’s home without him is not weird.

You’ve been there enough times to know where everything is. The place now has a sort of nostalgic familiarity. Even the sleek and minimalist design which you scoffed at before, has a peculiar cosiness. Almost homely.

Maybe because it is so very much Gun Park.

Initially, you don’t stay much longer than is deemed polite - if it could be considered polite at all.

Over time, you find it harder and harder to leave.

Gun knows you better than you do apparently.

Maybe just maybe he realises how much you would miss him. How much being surrounded with his things would help, a part of him embedded in everything in his home.

Including you.

.

.

Nothing of significance happens over the next few days. The pictures and selfies increase in frequency.

Gun tends to send you pictures of landscapes and his surroundings, accompanied with a surprisingly romantic caption that leaves you giggling.

Car dashboard to show he's travelling, pictures of coffees and patisseries in overpriced and trendy cafes where he would no doubt fit in, and then images of food from even more eye-wateringly expensive and fancy restaurants.

And then one your eyes have poured over the most, a picture of an empty gym.

With a reflection of Gun, topless. Almost but not quite out of shot. 

Truthfully, you replay the image of him post-shower in your head multiple times a week. It pops up when you least expect it. Over time, the memory has grown blurred at the edges, and this has slammed everything back into sharp focus.

Today you get a glimpse again of his body. Shiny and slick with sweat, muscles flushed red and pumped.

You zoom in - not before shiftily looking around his empty apartment, as if someone will jump out and shame you for being thirsty. 

Eyes tracking over the collar bones and the curve of his shoulder, bicep popping with the phone gripped loosely in his hand. 

A peek of hip hones and one half of the delicious V muscle, the arrowhead that points straight down.

Ughhh. 

He’s not posing at all. You just know it’s one single picture Gun has taken and fired off without thought.

But you still feel the need to take a cold shower right this second.

You: 😋

Gun: 😯

The thought of Gun, a man so cool and calm and collected, using an emoji catches you off balance and you burst out laughing.

(... The photo? That is not true. Gun knows exactly what he is doing.)

.

.

One afternoon, you receive a selfie from Gun - which is unusual in itself.

Upon reveal, it’s a picture of Gun’s business associate - Goo Kim, smouldering at the camera and a fuzzy outline of Gun in the background.

‘Hey cutie pie, how you doing 💋’

Moments later, another picture. Blurred and taken from what looks like midair, phone falling to the floor. You squint at a fuzzy image of Gun trying to kick Goo, who aims a punch for his head.

Gun: dhakjsdhaksjdhs

Gun: kfdjhsdkfhd

Gun: Ignore that

Gun: Sorry

.

.

Another few days later, Gun’s eyes soften at the picture and caption he has just received. It’s a welcome reprieve from the day he had

You beaming with your arm around the plant, both in his apartment.

‘look whos finally home! we miss you!!’

“Huh.” Goo leans over Gun’s shoulder, adjusting his glasses and thinking his eyes are deceiving him. “I thought you would have killed that thing by now.”

.

.

“Since I left, I've been surrounded by all this noise. All I can think about is being with you at home. By your side. Listening to you, seeing you. Just existing... You have no idea the hold you have on me.” 

You don’t hear anything until the next night. A voice recording. Hushed, like a confession.

A slight grumble and a sigh. 

“I won’t be able to contact you from now until I’m back… Y/N.  I wanted you to know that I-,”

A pause. 

“I miss you too.”