#no sister of hers is going to be out and about without a degree
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caitlynmeow · 1 year ago
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When Daniela graduated from high school and was about to enroll in university:
Bela: What do you want to major in?
Daniela: What do they have?
Bela: This is not a restaurant, Dani 😭😭😭
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hoonsluvr · 14 days ago
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cherry - p.sh
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pairing ; bsfsbrother!sunghoon x f!reader
synopsis ; you never thought that an unexpected obsession formed during your trip to southern italy would teach you one life’s cruelest lessons, never fuck your bestfriend’s brother
genre ; summer au, best friend’s older brother, forbidden romance, smut, a bit of fluff, a bit of angst
word count ; 4.8k
inspired by ; cherry - lana del rey
cw ; p in v, unprotected sex, spit, choking, gagging, oral fem!receiving, mating press, edging mdni
note ; hii, this is my first work so i’m a bit nervous!! lmk what you think of the layout and feedback in general is appreciated! :)
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Was it wrong that you felt happy when your parents announced they wanted to take a vacation alone this year?
You sit opposite them at the dining table, your mom explaining herself for the hundredth time over. Clearly she felt guilty about it but you didn't mind. “You know its our anniversary during that time darling and I hope you understand that we love having you with us, of course we do, but 50th anniversaries are rather special and we’re booking a honeymoon resort.”
You feign a look of sadness to act like you’re listening but your mind is already elsewhere. It wasn’t that you didn’t like spending time with your parents, that wasn’t the problem at all, but now that a family vacation was out of the picture, joining Stella’s family in Italy was back in the conversation.
Soojin, or Stella as she liked to be called was your best friend, your ride or die. Years ago, when you moved to a new town, the Park family were your next door neighbours and you and Stella quickly became close, bonding over your hatred for the town and its people. You two had always felt suffocated in its environment, the way everyone knew everyone’s drama, everyone’s problems, everyone’s secrets. You promised each other that one day you would escape and explore the world together for that very reason.
You were over at her house so much that you were basically a part of the family. You had your thumbprint on their security system, the password to the garage door, and even your own designated chair at the dining table. Her mom used to jokingly call you two sisters, but honestly, that didn’t feel far off. You and Stella had grown up together, seen all of each other’s phases too. The cringe phase, the boy-obsessed phase, oh god- the emo phase, and yet your friendship was still going strong. From weekend sleepovers where you giggled and gossiped all night long to crying on each other’s shoulders after not feeling accepted in school, to smoking your first blunt together, you two had been through every whirlwind experience together. After all these years, you still struggled to express just how much admiration you held for her.
And now, it had come. This was the last summer you had left with her. In 3 months you were going to head North to New York City, to pursue a degree in arts while Stella would remain in your hometown. When you broke the news, you expected her to be angry at you because of the promise you made to travel together forever, but she simply smiled and told you she was proud of you and that she always knew you would make it far.
You felt a pit in your stomach thinking about being apart, you had never really imagined life without her, so imagine your relief and excitement when she proposed that you join her family on their vacation to Italy this summer. One last chance to have the time of your life with your best friend while you were both still young? No one could catch you dead saying no.
-
“Mom, please.” You beg, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from frustration. You sit across from her on the kitchen island, sipping on a mango smoothie as she prepped dinner for tonight. At this point, the conversation had been going on for far too long and both of you were running thin on patience. “I just don’t understand why you won’t let me go.” You huffed, used to getting your way.
Your mother sighs. “Sweetie, I’ve explained this to you. The Parks have done so much for you, your entire life! I just don’t want you to be a burden on them when they’re trying to have a family vacation. They're extremely sweet for offering but it’s a tough situation.”
“Ugh!” You exclaim and your mother shoots you a don’t-be-so-dramatic look. “They offered to have me! And besides, with you and daddy going to Mexico and Stella going to Italy, I’m going to be alone this summer. My last summer before college is going to be spent wasting away. It’ll be years before I see Stella again!” You pout, your eyes sparkling with hope as you see her expression soften, triumphant that you clearly struck a soft spot.
“We’ll see about it darling.” She sighs.
Even with her weary expression, all the tell-tale signs were there. She had been convinced. You stand up, satisfied as you go to text Stella the news.
And that’s how you find yourself going to the South of Italy for three weeks with the Parks: Stella, her mother and father, and her older brother Sunghoon.
Sunghoon had always been a little shy and introverted making him hard to talk to, your four year age gap not doing much to help create a relationship either. Despite that, Sunghoon had always tried being sweet to you. After many attempts of trying to talk to him over the years, you finally managed to break his shell the one time he rescued your prized possession, a teddy bear plush named Ben, from a tree branch. You still remember the warm hug he gave you when you cried over Ben’s stitching being torn and ever since that day, although you wouldn’t call yourself friends, the relationship shifted. It changed from nods of acknowledgement to smiles, from waves of greeting to hugs.
During your last years of middle school, you even developed a small crush on him but you never once told Stella, knowing she would have killed you. Once you turned fourteen, Sunghoon left to go for college and you hadn’t seen him since then. You had no idea what he was like now, his personality, his likes and dislikes, his interests. Honestly, the thought worried you a little. You just decided you would try sticking to Stella on the trip, hoping that things wouldn’t be awkward.
Only if you knew. Only if you knew what was about to happen, you never would’ve chosen to go on that godforsaken trip.
-
The last minute nature of your decision to join the vacation meant that tickets weren’t available on the same flight as the Parks, so you booked one for a flight that arrived in Italy just two days later. You didn’t mind however, you were just excited to spend time with Stella.
And so you arrive in the quaint beach town of Taormina, located on the shorelines of the island of Sicily. The drive from the airport to your location spans over rugged hills overlooking the Loian sea. You maintain small talk with the barely english speaking driver, chatting about what to do in town and what beaches to visit. A gasp leaves your mouth as the taxi comes to a halt outside a stunning Italian villa style Airbnb. You know the Parks aren’t exactly middle class, neither were you, but you weren’t expecting this much grandeur.
Cobblestone bricks line the pathway to the house, leaning up against the ivy covered walls. Heaps of colorful potted flowers are placed at the entrance and a wooden gazebo in the corner catches your eye. Stella is sitting in the gazebo, sipping tea. When she sees you, she jumps up in excitement and rushes over.
“You’re here!” She squeals and twirls you around as you both laugh excitedly. You hear claps of joy from the back as Shin-ah, Stella’s mom steps out of the front door, her husband, Ji-hun in close pursuit. You quickly wish the driver goodbye and thank him before hugging them both fondly.
“Gosh, we only just saw you a month ago and you’ve already become prettier!” Shin-ah exclaims, making you blush and immediately resort to your usual ‘humble’ deflections that you recited out like a poem whenever she complimented you.
You lean to the side, getting up onto your tip-toes to get a glimpse of the dark haired boy who just stepped out of the door. Sunghoon. His short black hair was now grown out into a mullet and he no longer held the smiley expression that his face once always used to carry. You glance at his arms, his thin tank top showing off his muscles, a striking difference to his previously scrawny build. He looks so different. He’s grown now and more confident, no longer the sweet, shy boy you used to crush on. Theres no doubt, Sunghoon Park has matured. He’s a man now. A fucking gorgeous man, that too.
Sunghoon murmurs a half-hearted greeting towards you, reminiscent of the way he used to speak to you before you two became comfortable. You’re not surprised-it had been years since you’d seen him. Traces of your previous dynamics were long gone by now. You return the soft greeting as Shin-ah ushers you into the house, Stella following behind, wheeling your luggage in.
“You must be hungry, come, we’ve already set the table.” And sure enough, the intricately carved wooden dining table was all set up with dishes, cutlery and a large pizza in the centre. Dinner with the Parks is comfortable as you go back and forth with them, discussing the trip’s itinerary, recent stories and more.
Shin-ah glances at Sunghoon before turning back to you. “So, you and Sunghoon haven’t seen each other in a while. He’s been asking what you’ve been up to.” It was horribly obvious that Sunghoon couldn’t care less about what you’d been up to. His mouth opens in annoyance at his mother’s words. “What? No I—" But he’s cut off by a sharp nudge from his father who scowls at him. Embarrassment pools inside of you and you laugh awkwardly before Shin-ah nods encouragingly for you to continue.
“Well uh— I’m going to NYU after this summer. I’m going to be studying art history and I’m hoping to get an internship with a local gallery this summer, after the trip of course. But yeah…” You trail off awkwardly as Sunghoon pretends to be interested. An awkward atmosphere settles over the table and you finish in silence.
After dinner, you head up to your room that you’ll be sharing with Stella. You’re sitting on the floor, unpacking your suitcase while she removes her makeup.
“Hey,” she turns to you, “I’m sorry about what happened with Hoon earlier. I don’t know why he’s acting like that.”
You wave it off. “No, don’t worry about it at all, it’s all good. I’m sure it’ll settle down in a while.”
She nods comfortingly but deep down you feel a little hurt. You knew that it wasn’t going to be the same but you didn’t expect him to be so cold.
-
After a few chaotic days of what felt like never-ending sightseeing and cold shoulders from Sunghoon, you finally collapse onto a picnic blanket out in the back-garden, your white sundress pooling around your knees. You roll over onto your stomach, kicking your legs into the air as you grab your book, the pages soft between your hands as you slowly flip through, trying to find where you left off. Pop. The sound of plastic popping as you open the box of glowing red cherries next to you. Your favorite.
You're a few pages in when a soft voice calls from behind you. “Hey.” You glance behind to see him standing there in a loose white shirt and khaki shorts, holding a book. He laughs softly as you scramble to straighten yourself. “No need for that, you can sit however you want.”
“No, no it's okay,” you shake your head, sitting up straight now, confused at his cheerful demeanour “what do you need?”
“I was wondering if I could join you,” he tilted his head, “you seem to be having fun.”
You squeeze internally. Something about Sunghoon was making you nervous right now but you plaster on a sweet smile nonetheless, “of course.”
You’re hyperaware of his every movement as he approaches and sits down next to you on the blanket. He holds up the book he had and it takes you a second to realise that both of you had gotten the same book to read, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’. You smile at him, “that’s funny.”
“It is, isn’t it?” He hums. “How’s Ben doing?”
You laugh, the anxious feeling in your stomach fading a little. There’s no need to be nervous in the first place, it’s just Sunghoon. “He’s doing okay. No more accidents since the last.”
The two of you fall into silence. He coughs. "Listen... I uh— I didn't mean to act that way when you first came."
You nod almost immediately. "You don't have to explain yourself, I get it, it's fine."
"No, I was acting like a jerk for no reason. I mean- you know how I am with people at first and I hadn't seen you in a while, it just took me a while to get used to. That's not an excuse for how I acted though, I'm sorry."
You peer at him. "I get it, I figured that's the reason you were acting distant. It's okay. I'm glad we can be pause normal again." You both look at each other and for a second you feel him glance at your lips but his eyes move away so fast, it's impossible to tell. He smiles softly at you.
-
Your legs are crossed as you lounge lazily on a chair on the balcony, taking in the view of the salty sea, waves lapping against the rocks. Once again, a box of perfectly round Italian cherries lay on the table behind you. You couldn't seem to get enough of them.
“You must really like these.” Sunghoon murmurs from behind you, pointing at the box of the sweet fruit. You smile lazily at him, not surprised by his interruption. Somehow, he had been finding you in all sorts of odd places recently, almost as if he was looking for you from the second you disappeared from view. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Sunghoon thought you were pretty. You realised fairly quickly from the way his eyes flicked up and down whenever he saw you, resting on your tits for just a second more.
“They’re my favorite.” You nod, grabbing one and popping it into your mouth as he watches. Maybe it's the way he’s staring at you hungrily but a newfound confidence takes over you. You reach for another cherry but this time, you make sure to hold eye contact with him, looking up with big bambi eyes as your tongue swirls around the sweet fruit. You bite into it and the red juice dribbles down your chin, your eyes glinting. His finger instinctively reaches down, a millimetre away from your chin before you nod to give him permission.
He swipes at the juice on your chin, before pulling his finger back, licking it slowly. Your throat suddenly feels like it’s constricting. You should not be doing this— holy shit you should not be doing this. You stand abruptly, coughing slightly. He doesn’t react much but a slight smirk plays on his face. Pause. “I should go,” you stutter as you rush into the house, heart hammering in your chest.
You try your best to ignore him for the next few days because you had no idea what possessed you to do that. Your mind constantly replayed the moment. The way he stared at you. The way he touched you. The way he licked his finger. God you were so fucked. Every time you saw Stella, you couldn’t help but feel guilty but then you tried comforting yourself. It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong, nothing actually happened.
You didn’t even notice what you were doing at first, your actions seemingly innocent in your mind. You just wanted to make the most of the summer clothes you owned and the heat in Taormina was intense, right? But your skirts were growing shorter and shorter by the day, your bikinis became skimpier and skimpier. That, accompanied by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when he came around, batted your eyelashes at him, knowing it made him crazy-you hadn’t even realised but that little incident between the two of you had made you develop a little obsession with Sunghoon Park, just like the one you had all those years ago. And you were desperate for his attention now.
Right from your shiny olive skin that glistened in the Italian sun to your long hair that swayed as you walked, Sunghoon Park knew you were gorgeous, even more so now that you were making it painfully obvious. He knew. He knew you were doing all of this entirely on purpose but that didn’t mask his staring as you lather on sunscreen, resting beside him in the sand in a floral pink bikini.
You know you have him.
"Hey can you help me with this?" You ask softly, holding out the bottle of sunscreen towards him. His jaw ticks but he takes the bottle from your hand.
"Actually," you smile sweetly, "on second thought, I think I'm done, what do you think?"
If looks could kill, you would strike dead at this very moment from the way he was looking at you. “What’s your game?”
You stare at him, not expecting him to say those words so soon. “What do you mean?” You pout, pretending to be oblivious, a little upset that you didn't get to have that much fun with him before he called you out.
He scoffs. “You know exactly what I mean. Don’t play dumb. You like teasing me and then pulling away at the last moment, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, his expression hardens. “You’re trying to win a game you don’t even know how to play.”
Before you get the chance to respond, the two of you are interrupted as Stella runs to you, laughing.
“Hey are you having fun?” Stella smiles down at you.
“I’m having a great time, thanks.”
She nods as she moves to sit down on the sand, between you and Sunghoon.
Theres a moment of silence before you speak. “Hey Stells, thank you for letting me come. I appreciate it a lot. I would’ve had a terrible summer without you and I’m just really glad we get to spend time together before … you know …”
She smiles at you again. A genuine smile. “I’m gonna miss you. A lot. And I know you’re worried but i’m not, because I know we’ll always be friends. We’ve been through everything together and stupid New York isn’t going to change that.” As she pulls you in for a hug, you feel a pang in your heart. You love your friend and the last thing you want is for her older brother to come between you. But you just can’t help yourself.
You glance up at Sunghoon who's watching you two hug with an emotion in his eyes that you can't quite place. He meets your eyes and you shut yours, unable to look at him any longer. You hold onto Stella tighter, suddenly feeling disgusted with yourself. You're sickening. Sickening and selfish.
-
Your phone screen shows 4:36AM and sleep wasn’t coming. You sit up, rubbing your eyes as you glance at Stella snoring beside you. You get out of bed slowly, the wood creaking beneath you. You desperately needed a walk to clear your mind. Stepping into your fuzzy slippers, you leave the room, entering the narrow corridor outside. Sunghoon’s door stands tall in front of your face, which you would have normally ignored, except today, streaks of light peek out of the crack at the bottom. Why is he awake?
You know you shouldn’t. You know you really shouldn’t but you do it anyways. You knock softly. A few moments pass and you think he might not come. Right as you’re about to leave, the door clicks open and he stands there in grey sweats, shirtless. You choke a little but he doesn’t notice, neither does he seem surprised to see you.
He looks you up and down and you realise what you’re wearing—a tiny pink lace-trim nightgown, barely covering anything. He’s smirking now. “Come in.”
“Uh I—“ You start to say as you begin to regret your decision but you’re cut off by his harsh tone, his smirk now faded, replaced with a hardened expression.
“That wasn't a question. Come. In.”
You swallow nervously as you follow him into the room and shut the door behind you. Sunghoon sits on the edge of the bed, motioning for you to stand in front of him. You do as he asks and now you're staring down at his face, your silky hair hanging loosely, brushing against his cheeks. He starts to grab harshly at your waist and you gasp slightly.
"You think this is funny huh? Playing all these games? Do you have any idea what you're doing at all?" When you don't respond he starts again. “What? Cat got your tongue? Are you all nervous now? Don't be, you started this after all."
You breathe out shakily, hands finding his neck. "Please—"
"Please what?" His smirk is back, he likes that he's finally the one in control. "Say you want me."
"God I want you, I do." You whine pathetically. And whatever little power you may have had over him was gone, he had claimed it back. His dark eyes glint sinisterly as he stands, picking you up by the waist and placing you down onto the bed. Your legs are raised, being held up by his hands as he presses kisses on your left ankle. He slowly makes his way down, nuzzling his nose into your inner thighs. His teeth lock onto your panties and you gasp as he drags them off, discarding them on the floor, leaving you exposed.
"Fuck you're beautiful."
He dives in again, his nose pressing against your clit as he laps harshly at your folds. You throw your head back, a jerk reaction to the sudden sensitivity. You cry out and feel him immediately stop what he was doing. You whine softly in annoyance. "Wow baby, it seems like you really want my sister to know I'm fucking you right now." You swallow harshly as his eyes shoot daggers at you. "Keep. Quiet."
He's looking at your pussy now. You wait, burning to see what he would do. And he spits on it. You gasp, biting your lip to stop the moan. He spits right on your pussy, using his fingers to spread his saliva around your messy area. He begins to lick up your folds again, pressing his tongue down on your clit.
You can't handle it. It's pathetic but you already feel a knot building up in your stomach. "Hoon— I'm going to—"
"Not yet," he spits out, coming up.
You moan weakly in protest but he doesn't seem to care. "You don't deserve to cum yet. You've not been a very good girl have you?" You shake your head.
His hands reach for his pants now, pulling them down in one quick move and you could see how painfully hard he is. Your eyes widen as he pulls out his cock. It was big. Too big. Bigger than you'd ever had before and you didn't know if you would be able to handle it. He laughs, looking at your expression. "Don't worry baby, we'll make it fit."
He pushes your legs up all the way and you were practically bent in half in front of him, your knees blurrily shifting in and out of your peripheral vision. He lines his cock up with your entrance and rubs the tip across your wet folds, groaning softly as his eyes shut. Without warning, he pushes it in and you shriek in surprise, causing him to shove his fingers into your throat. You're choking around his fingers now as he thrusts into you, quickening the pace. Tears stream down your face as you gag, you're close again, you can feel it, but so can he. Just as you're about to reach your high, he stops his motion again and you lean back into the bed, panting hard. You're desperate for release now but as you stare up at his fucked out face through your lashes, smirking down at you, you know he's not going to give you that release anytime soon.
So you go four more rounds. Four more rounds of chasing that desperate high that he pulls away from you at the last moment. You're fucked up now, sweating and panting, your hair splayed across your face as you cried and cried, begging him. The sun had risen now and it pooled in through the window, enveloping you in a warm glow, making your tan skin look golden.
"God baby, you look so fucking sexy right now." Sunghoon reaches an arm towards the desk nearby, where a small pile of digital cameras lay. Stella's digital cameras. The one's she had excitedly bought for the trip, wanting to capture every memory. He points the lens of one of them at you and you don't even have enough energy to protest. Click. And just like that, a picture of you in one of your most fucked up moments was captured forever. He tosses the camera aside, turning his attention back to you.
"You up for one more?"
Strings of gibberish come out from your mouth and he chuckles as he pushes into you once again. He thrusts in and out and you're moaning loudly this time but neither of you cared anymore. You're so sensitive at this point that it doesn't take long for that familiar feeling to arise again. This time, Sunghoon lets you have it. You let out a strangled moan as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Pure fucking euphoria. He collapses on top of you after cumming as well. You reach out, your hands tangling in his hair, stroking his face gently.
You realise you haven't kissed yet. You lean down, placing a gentle kiss on his pink lips. He kisses you back immediately but there is no lust behind it. "You're a goddess, you know that?" He speaks, muffled against your arm. You laugh this time, reaching for the camera next to you. Click. Another picture. But this one is much cuter, the two of you staring into the camera, laughing as your arms are wrapped around him. Click. And another. He's kissing you and you just want to stay in this moment forever.
-
The remainder of the vacation is spent stealing glances and kisses with Sunghoon as you two sneak away at random times together. You visited his room every night, sometimes it was sex and sometimes you just wanted to cuddle.
If there was one thing you were sure of by the end of the vacation, it's that you were madly, madly in love with him. And he was in love with you too.
-
1 month later
You step into your room, flopping onto the bed, exhausted from your shift at the gallery. You pull out your phone to texts from both Stella and Sunghoon. Sunghoon's reads 'see you tomorrow :)' while Stella had texted to cancel your bar plans for the night, wanting to hang out at home instead. You almost feel relieved, too tired to even think of going to the bar. Instead, you quickly change your clothes and head over to the house next door. Shin-ah opens the door and she's delighted to see you as ever.
After exchanging some small talk, you head upstairs to Stella's room, briefly glancing at Sunghoon's door.
"Hey Ste—“ You stop. She isn't there.
You look around, confused for a moment before realising she's sitting outside on the balcony.
"Hey, what's up?" You smile at her as you take the seat beside her.
She doesn't respond, staring straight ahead into the pink sky. She's holding an envelope, nothing too special, just a plain white envelope.
"Do you know what this is?" She speaks for the first time, holding the envelope up, still refusing to look at you.
Your eyebrows furrow. "No?"
She breathes out, finally turning to meet your eyes. You recoil slightly when you see the wild anger looking straight at you. She opens the envelope slowly, almost teasingly. "You know..." She trails, "I recently sent in the film from the trip to be developed."
Your stomach drops.
She knows.
The envelope is finally open and she pulls out three photos. The first one of you laid down on the bed, fucked out with his cock still inside you, then you and Sunghoon are hugging naked, then you're kissing.
You're going to throw up.
"Look at me." She speaks softly, gently, but her voice is full of venom.
You look up to meet her eyes but you just can't do it. Your world is spinning.
"I want you to go to New York," her voice drops to a whisper, "and never come back. I never want to see you again. I never want you to see my brother ever again. Do you understand?"
You're nodding now, pleading silently, tears streaming down your face but you know it's not going to do anything.
She takes your nod as a yes. "Good, then we're clear."
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pencil-n-pen · 4 months ago
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Princess ⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚
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⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
leon kennedy x fem!reader
Summary: Being an independent woman and a full time student is all fun and games until final’s season. Luckily, your not-quite academic rival Leon Kennedy is there to pick you up when you fall.
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cw: Female pronouns and description used for reader but nothing detailed (no skin color, eye color, hair type, body type, etc.) This is basically just an x reader for my independent eldest daughters who do nothing but their absolute best all the time everyday and deep down want a hot guy with beefy arms to let them relax for a minute. So i guess expect the related issues that come with being an eldest daughter?
Tags/tropes: hurt/comfort, dom! leon if you squint, leon’s very touchy, leon being a gentleman!! probably ooc, i kinda struggled finding his voice :/
wc: 3.3k
a/n: wowee so i’m not rlly looking to be a full time author or anything but i could NOT get this idea out of my head and i figured i could give back to the tumblr fic community <3 here’s to everyone who wants hurt/comfort without smut, incest, or a needlessly specific reader! hope everyone’s recovering well from finals!
— ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ
The first time it happened, it honestly, truly, was an accident. A mistake, if you will. You would never willingly fall asleep on a random guy at a party. That is all kinds of bad for a number of reasons.
However. There were some… extenuating circumstances.
Finals. They’re a make-or-break for the first semester. Mostly just a break. In the sense that you contemplated how upset your parents would be at you if you dropped out and if the subsequent disowning would be worth it.
You did finals the same way you did everything. You worked. Studied. Borderline obsessed over it. Romanticized it so you could push through when the other’s resolve started dropping. Stayed home. Your friends bemoaned your “no-fun attitude” but they’re crying over their grades and you’re not, so.
Well. Actually you’re definitely crying over your grades, almost every day in fact. But not because they’re bad. Just because you’re tired. Really tired. The kind of tired that makes people have public breakdowns. But you can’t afford to have a public breakdown because you have to succeed at college and you have to work in order to stay on top of your bills and be able to send some money home to your family and make sure you have time to call your parents and make time for your sister to call you and vent because you didn’t have a you at her age and you wish you did so you have to be there for her and your friends need you to be there for them not to mention planning for how you’re going to use your degree after you graduate and—
Most of the time you try not to think about it.
So finals were over. And everyone wanted to celebrate. And you did, you promise. You’re totally the party girl type. Totally. (Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll come true?)
You don’t hate parties. You like dressing up and going out. It’s fun! It’s just… not your idea of an unwind. Not after you nearly ran yourself into the ground for a month straight for the sake of academic validation. You’d prefer to sleep for 72 hours straight. And maybe watch a movie at home in the sweatshirt you cried over your textbooks in. Maybe over a glass of wine? You’re not really sure. Relaxing never really goes well for you. It’s either depression-bed-rotting or full productivity.
Needless to say, you weren’t exactly thrilled to find yourself at this party. You’re not really sure how your friends convinced you.
But you’re here, in makeup and an outfit you like (you’re thankful this isn’t one of the ‘put on a tight dress and dance’ parties) and you just honestly want to go to bed. It’s a house party, so it’s not nearly as crazy as some of the other parties you’ve been (read: dragged) to, but still.
You’re on the couch, ignoring the smell of alcohol in the air and pretending the pounding baseline of the music coming from the speaker in the kitchen isn’t starting to give you a headache.
Ada Wong, a girl you’ve hesitantly dubbed your party friend, is sitting on your left, while the guy you can never quite tell what he is to her, is sitting on your right.
Leon Kennedy.
On a good day, Leon Kennedy is a smart, brooding, annoyingly capable guy who you share some of your classes with. On a bad day, he’s the bane of your existence. On a really bad day, you fantasize about all the ways you could kill him and turn the experience into a really good term paper.
It’s complicated. You’re smart. He’s smart. You tend to clash because neither of you like backing down from a challenge.
But right now, in this moment, at this party, the only thing you can think about is how fucking tired you are and how warm he is.
The music is so loud it drowns everything out in your brain. The few thoughts that make it through the overwhelm of sound are fuzzy and staticky. The cling and slip around in your head like syrup. The worst parts about parties are, funnily enough, working to cancel out the main reason you can’t fall asleep in your own bed at night: overthinking.
That and the fact that you haven’t sleep in forty-eight hours. An energy drink and an iced coffee count as a full nights sleep, right? You’re sure the heart palpitations are normal.
You manage to keep up with the steady flow of the group conversation, but as the night wears on, talking becomes harder and harder and just plain processing the words being said slowly turns into an impossible task. At some point, someone else squeezed onto the couch— you think it might be Chris? Ada did say he was coming late— so now you’re pressed against the one and only Leon Kennedy, and he’s radiating heat like a furnace.
Like you, he opted for a slightly more casual approach to the house party. Of course, he’s a guy, so his wardrobe was probably never that big, but still. It’s nice to see someone else in a sweatshirt and jeans.
You at least put on your favorite jeans! You call them your hot jeans, for self explanatory reasons. So what if you’re wearing an oversized sweatshirt? It’s cold!
You jolt in place, not realizing your eyes had slipped close and the conversation had continued on without you. Something prickles in the back of your head. An instinctual sort of thing.
Don’t fall asleep in public places.
Don’t fall asleep at someone’s house you don’t know.
You know the owner of the house, you think. You’ve been here once or twice. But you don’t know everyone at the party and where your friends have gone because they’re not in the group talking here and you should probably stand up soon, to wake yourself up, don’t let your friends down, don’t be that girl who falls asleep at the party, don’t—
You jolt again.
Wake up. You tell yourself. Leon’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye, but you ignore it.
It feels like a record skip. You’ll blink, and the conversation isn’t the same as when you first closed your eyes. The song isn’t the same. Were the lights always this bright?
“Whew!” Ada whistles from above. When did she stand up? “Someone’s got final’s exhaustion written all over their face!”
The group laughs and you do too, but it sounds different. Leon doesn’t. Why isn’t he laughing?
You jolt again. Harder this one. A full body shake. You wince as your knee knocks into Leon’s.
“Sorr—“
“Stop that.” He grumbles, and oh. A warm, solid hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Closed to that warm, stupidly comfortable side.
This is wrong. It’s Leon. It’s Leon. You can’t. And this is a party, and your friends are here—
“Stop being stupid,” You can feel his chest rumble from where your cheek is pressed flush against it, and when did that happen? He picks up your left arm and drapes it across his stomach, then picks up your right arm and wraps it around his lower pack. “Squeeze.”
You listen, and wow. Who has time to go to the gym this much and be an academic rival? You feel like you’re slacking. Maybe you need to make time to get some—
“I can hear you thinking,” He says, voice deep and rumbly. It’s honestly a miracle you can hear him over the music. It’s probably because your face is pressed against his chest. If you strain, you can feel the dull thud of his heart.
“You have a heart?” You say, half-delirious with exhaustion. It comes out more as a question than a statement
“Mhm,” He rumbles. “I am in possession of one. Great observation princess.”
You frown into his chest. “Why are you always so mean? You call me that stupid name. I’m not a princess.”
“I’m not mean. Whoever said princess was a mean nickname? You decided that on your own.”
“Then how come you call me that?”
“Because,” He huffs, repositioning to a more slouched position that’s more comfortable for your neck. The arm tightens around your waist.
It’s nice. It’s possessive. Protective. No one’s ever really done that for you before. Usually it’s you doing the protecting.
You don’t want to relax. You can’t. You can’t.
“Because,” He continues, “Princesses need to be taken care of. Especially smart, stubborn princesses who never pause for one second. Not even when they should.”
You should get up. Apologize for how weird you’re being. Have another coffee or energy drink. Join the party. Do something that isn’t this.
“Go to sleep,” He says, his voice like a warm blanket settling and slipping into your mind. “Nothing‘s going to happen to you while I’m here. No one is going to be mad at you for sleeping. And if they are, I’ll kick their ass. Go to sleep.”
It’s easy to give in after that.
You sag, boneless. Like a puppet with it’s strings cut. You inhale deeply, breathing in the deep, rich scent that’s distinctly Leon.
Just for a few minutes. Because Leon’s watching. He won’t let something happen to you. Just for a few minutes. You’ll get up soon. You will.
He tucks you closer to him. “Sleep.”
You’re out like a light.
“No way, she’s actually asleep?”
“Holy shit Leon, did you drug her?”
“I did not.”
“Well, thanks, for whatever weird magic-spell you cast. Seriously. We’re all starting to get worried about her. She doesn’t take any breaks and she doesn’t let anyone help. Last week a librarian found her asleep on the printer. Fully standing.”
“Hmm.”
“I’m going to start inviting you to our apartment if it means she’ll actually get some fucking sleep. It’s unsettling finding her in the same position as when I left like, six hours beforehand.”
“Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”
It’s horrific, running into him in the library.
What makes it more horrible is the fact that you’re ugly crying silently in the English textbook section, because it’s always empty. You’re ugly crying in the English textbook section of the university library and Leon Kennedy just walked into the aisle.
You sniff, lifting your head from your knees to stare up at him from the ground. He has a knack for finding you at your lowest, it would seem.
“We’ve got to stop seeing each other like this, princess.”
“Oh?” You sniff hard, running a hand across your face as if that will clear up your red rimmed, puffy eyes, the tear tracks on your face, or the flush on your nose. The action at least wipes away the snot. “I wasn’t aware you ever fell asleep on me at a party. Did I ever find you crying in the English textbook section of the library?”
He tilts his head. “Why the English textbook section? It’s one of your best subjects.”
“It’s the emptiest section. Plus, anyone looking for an English textbook at this hour isn’t going to bat an eye at me.” You wrap your arms around your legs and hug them to your chest. “What are you doing here?”
“One of your roommates called Ada. They said you haven’t been home since this morning. They thought you might’ve been at hers, or with me.”
You snort. “It’s like they don’t even know me.”
He rolls his eyes. “I think they were hoping you’d be there. I think anyone who knows you knew you’d be here.”
“Crying in the English section?”
“In the library, dumbass.”
He stalks forward, leaning back against the bookshelf across from you and sliding his hands into his sweatpants pockets.
“Tell me. Is your pathological avoidance to asking for help conscious or not?”
You kick out, one shoed foot catching him in the shins. “Dick.”
He shrugs. “Just want to know. I can’t exactly gloat over scoring two points above you if you’re not in top form. I want a fair fight.”
“Is that what you're here for?” You ask suddenly, everything in your body going rigid. “You think this is funny?”
“No,” He says calmly. “I’m here because you’re being stupid again. You know what’s not healthy, or smart?”
He gestures to you. You, sitting on the floor, tears drying on your face. “This. Going out to parties to make your friends happy when you should be at home, sleeping. Studying for so long you end up looking like your boyfriend of eight years just broke up with you. Come on, princess. Where’s those brains you brag about?”
“They’re up here,” You tap your forehead. Against your will, your eyes burn, tears welling up, your face tightening. “And they’re tired.”
You drop your head into your hands, forgoing your silent crying of earlier in the place of open mouth sobbing. You can’t help it. You’re just so tired. So done with it all. With trying to keep up, with trying to make space, with trying to make time. With doing your best and it not being enough. You’re tired of being tired.
“Annnd there it is. Come here.”
He lowers himself to the floor next to you, tucking you close in a similar fashion as that night at the party.
“Come on, same thing as before. Hold onto me. Give yourself a minute.”
You wrap your arms around his middle, same way as last time, burying your face into his shoulder. Someone could see. Someone you know might see you crying and think—
He reaches a hand up and pulls the hood of your sweatshirt over your head.
“There. Now no one can see your face. Stop worrying. Just cry, princess.”
You sniffle. “I’m getting snot on your sweatshirt.”
“It’s had worse on it.”
“Gross.”
You can practically feel the eye roll. “Can you stop being dirty-minded and focus on something productive? Like crying? Or not crying, if that would make you feel better.”
You shift, so your head is lying against his shoulder instead of smashed into it like before.
“Why do you care if I feel better?”
Why do you care?
He shrugs against you.
“Told you,” He pushes your hood back a bit, tapping you on the forehead with his pointer finger. “My competition’s no fun if she’s not taking care of herself. How else is she gonna kick my ass?”
“I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to swoop in here, Leon.”
“Mhm,” He says. “And i’m sure you do great at it, considering you’re still alive and kicking my ass at those stupid socratic seminars. Consider this… self-care. In the face mask, getting your nails done way.”
“Who taught you self care?”
“Ada. We have face mask nights.”
You jolt up. “Is she—“
“She’s not my girlfriend, we’re not fucking, no she’s not going to be upset or care in any way about this. Calm down.”
You begrudgingly settle back against him.
“If anything,” He continues. “She’ll be excited to see you at more parties in the coming months.”
You frown. “I never said—“
“You only go to parties if your friends physically drag you or when you feel confident enough in your grades and the general state of your life. It’s really easy to tell which version of you shows up to the party. It’s the way you dress.”
“How so?”
He shifts slightly. Guilt twinges in your stomach as you realize how uncomfortable he must be.
“You wear your pick-me-up pants when you’re dragged there. The ones that make your ass look great.”
You sit up with a gasp. “My hot pants?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you call them?”
Your brain catches up to the rest of what he said. “Hold on. Did you just say—“
“I said what I said. I’m assuming there’s a reason you call them your hot pants.”
He smirks, and you flush.
“Moving onto more pressing matters,” He tilts his head at you. “You have two options this evening. Either I take you back to your place and you sleep in your own bed, or you come to my place and we binge watch the Oceans movies until you fall asleep.”
“How did you know I like the—“
“The icebreaker for club thing. You said they were your favorite movies.”
You look up at him. “You remembered?”
“You were wearing your hot jeans.”
“You’re the worst.”
He scans your face for a moment, eyes sparking with mirth and a little something less innocent. “Maybe.”
You sigh and lean back against him, exhaustion from all your crying hitting you at once.
“Nuh-uh, no sleeping here. You gotta pick one. My place or yours?”
You frown into his shoulder. “Ugh. Fine. Yours, but only because I wanna watch the Ocean’s movies. You better not have a disgusting frat house.”
“I do not. I do have popcorn and ice cream.”
“Ada bought those, didn’t she?”
“Nope,” He says, nudging you with his shoulder to stand. You clamber in gracefully to your feet, your head starting to pound. “Chris likes to have movie nights. It pays to be well stocked.”
Your cheeks warm as a large, steadying hand finds its way to the small of your back. “How many of my friends are you friends with?”
“I was friends with them first.”
“Ass.”
He chuckles incredulously. “For having friends?”
“Yes,” You say, letting him pull you to his side while you walk to your table where you left your stuff. Probably not the best idea to leave your entire net-worth unattended, but whatever. You were going through it. “How dare you.”
“Mmm. I see. My apologies, princess. I’ll tell Chris and Ada.”
“You get on that.”
You can’t help but smile as he helps you pack up your things, passing you items across the table and carefully zipping up your pencil case.
“Don’t touch my papers, I have a system.”
“Is the system absolute chaos?”
“Shut up.”
Once everything is packed up, you zip up your backpack, but before you can sling it on, Leon’s arm darts out and snags it right out from under you.
Your expression grows pinched. “I can carry my own bag, Leon.”
“I know you can.”
“Give me my bag.”
“No.”
You groan. “Why do you want to carry my bag?”
“See, there’s this thing called chivalry—“
“Oh my god, shut up. When have you and chivalry ever been synonymous?”
He shrugs. “Ever since I met the girl in the hot jeans who regularly kicks my ass academically.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Mmm,” He hums, wrapping an arm around your waist and walking you towards the doors to the library. “And you’re stubborn. Come on. Brad Pitt and George Clooney are waiting for you.”
You sigh dramatically, hiding a small smile in your hand.
Maybe you could get used to this.
masterlist | next part
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
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mapileonxputellas · 29 days ago
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A Blast From The Past (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
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I hope you all enjoy...
I've slightly changed the last request but the previous context remains. Let me know if you want a part 2, any requests etc.
.....
Growing up you never used to believe in fate.
If fate was real then why did it feel like nothing ever went your way, why had you been given such a tough hand compared to near enough everyone else?
That was until you met her.
…..
13 years ago, 18 years old.
You’d been stood up. That much was plainly obvious right now. You should have listened to all the warnings from your friends, dating apps never worked. But how else were you meant to meet someone when you couldn’t afford to be going out every weekend and you were only surviving financially due to the waitressing job you’d taken on.
It was meant to be something fun, to take your mind off studying and then you got messaging one girl, Isobel, who seemed keen to go out for a few drinks. And that’s how you found yourself sitting, alone, in a bar on a Saturday night an hour after you’d agreed to meet.
The margarita in front of you was doing nothing to stop your mood worsening by the minute, if not by the second. Barcelona was your favourite city in the world but now being sat alone in a city where everyone seemed to be enjoying life, it was only rubbing you up the wrong way.
You’d been working all day and now you’d wasted a good amount of that money on two drinks without any company. It wasn’t like they were bad drinks but you didn’t have that money to spare.
Medical school had been a dream for you, it was now a reality but that didn’t come with sacrifices, including moving to the other side of the country. You were here on a scholarship but that only covered the university fees and your accommodation, the rest came from the job you had to work every Saturday and Sunday. You loved your parents but they could barely get by with your two other siblings never mind covering your new life in the city.
“Are you just going to stare at that glass all night?” You almost jumped at that soft voice coming out of nowhere before probably the most beautiful person you’d ever seen sat on the stool next to you. The question left unanswered as you basically drowned in those bright blue eyes. “Hello?”
“Sorry, sorry I was just about to leave.”
“Not on my account I hope.”
“No, my night is over.”
“You got all dressed up just to sit on your own all night?” Oblivious to you, Alexia had been watching the girl sat in the little black dress at the bar all night, waiting for you to be joined by someone and once her friends left, she couldn’t help but make her way over.
The question probably wasn’t meant to rile you up as much as it did. “Yeah well that’s not your problem.” You stood up to grab your purse when a hand wrapped around your wrist stopping your movement. “Everything OK?”
“Yes, sorry. I’m sorry.” She noticed the eyes on her hand and removed it immediately. “It wasn’t meant like that, no-one should spend the evening alone. Never mind someone as beautiful as you. One more drink on me?”
“No offence but I don’t even know your name.”
“Alexia Putellas.” Alexia, the name fit. “Now, how about a drink?”
“One drink.”
……
That one drink changed your life. You stayed in that bar all night, the two of you moving into the corner in your own little world until you were kicked out at closing time.
From there it spiralled.
You were only 18 but there was no doubt in your mind that this was love. For six months you spent the best part of all your free time together, which somehow wasn’t even enough. Alexia, who you found out was an aspiring footballer as well as completing a business degree, became a regular in the café as you worked and you spent an awful lot of time waiting for her in the freezing cold following training.
You weren’t surprised when she asked you to meet her family. Alexia made it official within two months and now she wanted to share you. She talked a lot about her sister, Alba, and she worshipped her mother, assuring you they were the loveliest people, but that didn’t make it any less nerve wracking.
“I promise everything will be fine.” Alexia assured you, her hand almost numb from how tight you were gripping it as the two of you sat outsider her home. “They will love you, just like I do.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Now let’s go in before Alba eats all the food.”
If Alexia had it her way you’d be meeting all her family in one go, all the aunts, cousins, extended family at a big family gathering. You’d managed to tone it down to just her mum and sister and a relaxed family meal. The rest would happen eventually.
You’d never met a girlfriend’s family before, in fact you’d never had a girlfriend full stop before Alexia. But you never imagined it would be this awkward.
It was all smiles at first and whenever Alexia was in the room, but the second she left it was like a switch flicked.
“Alexia tells us you’re a waitress.” Alba started, the 15-year-old not hiding her judgement but Alexia had told you all about the teenager’s tetchy mood most of the time.
“I am, I think everyone knows Alexia’s order off by heart now she’s in there so often.”
“We noticed, she was late to her cousin’s birthday last week because she’d been there.” Eli noted. “In fact if she’s not playing she’s almost always there.”
You’d couldn’t miss the disdain in her voice. “I know, it’s the only way we can spend time together.”
“Who’s spending time together?” Alexia asked returning from the kitchen, her hand immediately coming back to rest on your thigh.
“Your lovely girlfriend was just telling us all about her café.” The mask was completely back up.
“I should take you all one week, they all love me in there.” They did. “Now come on, lets eat.”
The dinner continued with no sense of the obvious tension between the three of you, at least in Alexia’s mind. In your mind all you could think about was the glares you would receive every so often, the tuts that were made when you’d make any comment.
“Have you met Y/N’s family yet Alexia?” Eli asked her daughter once you were finished eating.
“Not yet.”
“My family live near Seville, they aren’t able to come and visit me here with my two siblings being in school.” It was partially the truth. The other half was that they couldn’t afford it and what good would it be when you would be working anyway. “Maybe in the summer when it’s a bit less busy we’ll be able to work something out.”
“I don’t think I could live on the other side of the country.” Alba commented. “I just love my family too much to move away.”
Of course that was a burn, you didn’t have a choice in the matter, the best scholarship and medical school was in Barcelona.
“We wish you would.” Alexia joked with her sister. “Family is the most important thing, I’m sure even across the country that doesn’t change.”
Alexia had done a good job, unknowingly, of protecting you from them. That was until at the end of the meal she received a call from her agent which couldn’t be ignored.
“I’ll be back.” She signalled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving out of the room. “Shouldn’t be too long.”
Again that switch was flicked.
“Look, we can see it’s clear how much you like Alexia.” Eli started. “We’re just concerned that all of this is starting to have a negative impact on her career.”
“Alexia is always training.” You argued. “She’s playing for Barcelona.”
“And yet when she could be training or analysing the game at the weekend she’s sat waiting for you. She can’t spend any time getting to know her teammates.”
“I’ve never stopped that.”
“She’s distracted right now, she’s blind right now but we’re not. We need to protect her future and if you liked her as much as you claim to do then you’ll see it that way as well.”
“I can’t make her not spend time with me.” You never forced the girl, she just showed up at your work one day and never left.
“No, but you can break up with her.” Alba spit it out. “Don’t ruin her future for the sake of a young fling. You know how much she wants to be a footballer, that needs her focus.”
“What about what she wants right now?”
“She knows football has to be her greatest love, the pain will be less now than in a few years’ time when you have to move back home and she has to stay here. It will never work.”
You could ignore the previous comments, you knew how much Alexia wanted to be the best but you always need a life away from your work. You did however know that once this degree was complete you couldn’t afford to stay in Barcelona. You’d have to move away and Alexia would have to stay here.
That’s how on a cold night in February, you made the sacrifice for both yourself and Alexia, the text was sent breaking both your hearts in the process.
…..
March 2025, 31 years old
Barcelona.
The city where it all began, and the city you found yourself in 13 years later.
Medical school had been hard but from the first placement you knew you wanted to be a surgeon. That adrenaline rush was addictive and you’d never tire of that feeling after surgery when you’d made a difference.
You completed medical school with commendations across the board and managed to land yourself a place in a prestigious training facility in Madrid.
Madrid was an amazing experience, you learnt from the best and built up a reputation for yourself in medical circles, however it wasn’t Barcelona.
Barcelona may have been the place you felt your first heartbreak but it was also the place you made some amazing friends. It was home.
So when you got the opportunity to go back and work in main hospital in Barcelona you took it with both hands. You were home.
“We’ve had a request.” The other senior surgeon came into your office one morning, a few weeks into your new job. “FC Barcelona have a player who’s injured their ankle, we usually treat their patients and I’d like it if we worked on this one together.”
“Really?”
“The only way you learn is by doing. It’s quite a complex case. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” Of course you didn’t mind the knee replacements, the broken arms. But you wanted more.  “When do we get started.”
“They’re coming in tomorrow. We’ll do the assessment and go from there.”
It’s fair to say the next morning you were buzzing. This is all you’ve ever wanted and it was becoming true. You’d barely slept the night before thinking about everything you’d learnt, ankle injuries were common in football and came in a range of forms.
“They’re here.”
You looked up from where you were positioned at one side of the large table, slowly nursing the strongest coffee you could find. You were expecting to find the harsh glare of an angry footballer, instead you looked up to find those blue eyes you’d fell for over a decade ago. Of course.
Except she wasn’t alone and maybe you let out a breath of relief when it was the other younger woman by her side who was sporting the crutches.
“Miss Nazereth, Miss Putellas this is Miss Y/L/N she will be working alongside me throughout this process.” Your colleague introduced you and it took all your strength to manage to muster a little ‘hi’.
“Call me Kika,” The other woman gave you a comforting smile, probably what you should have been doing. “This is Alexia, I hope it’s OK I brought her.”
That snapped you back, you had a job to do. “Of course, whatever makes you feel comfortable.” You gave them both a smile, greeting the other Barcelona staff who entered the room and taking your seat.
The only thing you could do was avoid eye contact and get on with your job. You might not have seen her in the flesh for over a decade but it’s hard to avoid Alexia Putellas. You could do little else but watch on proudly as she won accolade after accolade.
“Let’s take a look at the scans…..”
It’s fair to say you’ve never been quite as distracted as you were in that meeting. You noted down all the important bits, the plan you made for her recovery, a complex ligament injury which would require surgery in the coming weeks.
Keeping concentrated was slightly harder though when the woman directly across from you was who she was. As the meeting was closing you dared to glance up and was almost surprised when her gaze was already on your own, a slight smile matched by your own before you both broke eye contact.
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you.” You shook hands with Kika as you all moved to the exit. “If you ever need anything, I’ll give you my card. Any questions, day or night.”
“Thank you.” You could read most people like books and you could tell she was terrified and upset.
“Miss Putellas.” You shook her hand, keeping things professional. “Good to see you.”
“You too, I know Kika is in good hands.”
“Thank you.”
…..
“What happened to you in there?” Kika asked her captain, Alexia driving the two back to the training ground. “In that meeting the other day you couldn’t stop asking questions.”
“What am I meant to ask? They’re surgeons they know better than you and I what’s going to happen.”
“I’ve never seen you that quiet.”
The words do tend to be knocked out of your head when you see someone again for the first time in 13 years, all the confusion and heart break came flooding back. “I was just thinking.”
“What do you think about that surgeon by the way?”
“What about her?” Alexia immediately responded.
“I’m trying to set Ewa up with someone and she seemed nice. She said she didn’t want a footballer and well, a surgeon definitely isn’t one of those.”
“Let her do her job Kika.” Alexia scolded the youngster, not about to let this happen. “No setting anyone up, I’m sure she’s got better things to do than be with a footballer anyway.”
“If you say so.”
“I do, now let me know when your next appointment is and I’m more than happy to come with you again.”
“Thank you Alexia.”
She’d take the thanks even if it was slightly misplaced. She had questions and they weren’t going to go away any time soon.
“I’m going to need that card by the way.”
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cybergoth1 · 4 months ago
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beyond the cowl | prologue | batfamily x isekaide!reader
masterlist | chapter 01.
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synopsis: ❛❛you're just a normal twenty-one-year old girl trying to navigate life with a shitty job and a useless degree. life isn't easy, and between expensive therapy sessions and the constant feeling of failure, you suddenly wake up in a body that wasn't yours, with a past that wasn't yours. now, in another dimension, you're dealing with the fact that you're a crucial part of the caped crusade that shaped bruce wayne's life. you're the second robin, the former girl wonder, and the vigilant gotham needed so much.❞
warnings/tags: swearing. reader being emotionally immature bc we love toxic women. no beta we die like jason todd. reader really needs her lexapro. alfred being a sweetheart in the end (pls lets pretend bane never killed him).
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Sometimes you felt like they had lied to you. Straight to your face. Your friends, your family and your professors. 
They all made you believe that something important was out there, just waiting for you. They patted your back while you poured out your insecurities like the self-doubting idiot you are, and with the most convincing tone, told you that the world was your oyster. That opportunities are everywhere.
They said you shouldn't be that worried about getting a job. You still have plenty of time after graduating. Right? 
Right.
Their nice words turned out to be useless the moment you stepped out of college. Your dreams and expectations were shattered during your first month sending out resumes to every single company and agency you could find. And then, before you knew it, eight months had passed without you landing a decent job. The endless rejection emails and mounting bills started to make you lose sleep as you spent countless nights tossing and turning in your single bed.
That’s why you ended up here, one year later, in a café downtown, learning the difference between a flat white and a cappuccino for a living.
You wiped down the counter for the sixth time in the past half hour, keeping an eye out for any trace of coffee left by the last customer when he spilled it all over your hands and apron. The feeling of the cloth under your fingers was the only thing grounding you as your thoughts began to spiral for the third time that day. You couldn’t even hear the annoying hiss of the espresso machine or your manager's high-pitched voice nagging at you about some shit you didn't care about.
You only lifted your head when a customer called you by your name. It was the same high school kid who always ordered a caramel macchiato. Mia or something. Your mind wandered as you pulled a shot of espresso for the new order.
You shouldn’t be here.
You shouldn't be pretending your lifetime dreams were nothing. You shouldn’t be pretending that you feel fulfilled cleaning counters and serving people who barely looked up at your face while you handed them their orders.
You heard Mia asking for extra vanilla syrup.
Shit, that was so unfair to you. You did everything right; every single thing they told you to do. You checked all the boxes.
You got a degree, unlike half of your family, who barely finished high school. You didn’t get knocked up at sixteen, unlike your mom and older sister, and you didn’t get addicted to fucking alcohol, unlike your dad. So why are you still living like this — paycheck to paycheck, unable to afford dental care, healthcare, or even the most basic stuff like a new pair of shoes.
Deep down, you know why.
Poverty is an eternal, miserable, and unbreakable cycle — you were just naïve enough to think you could overcome it with simple actions. You kept your eyes fixed on the tall iced latte in your hand while zoning out. Yeah, time for another therapy session.
“Here you go” you tried to smile while handing her the cup. Hiding your growing anxiety and negative thoughts behind your customer service voice was a skill you were slowly, but surely, building up. But you probably looked weird as fuck since she gave you an awkward smile while muttering a "thanks".
"I still don’t know how you got this job. You look like a psychopath," you heard Nate, your coworker, from behind you, holding an empty milk pitcher.
He would be a nice, solid dude if he didn't act like a middle school bully most of the time.
"Yeah?" you rolled your eyes, finally turning your body to look at him. Damn, he really needed to shave his sideburns; he looked ridiculous. "Want me to tell you what you look like?"
His red hair and weird face made him look like a distressed orangutan. A very ugly orangutan.
He just smirked at your sarcastic tone. Fucking cunt.
"Nah, I'm good".
As the rest of the shift slowly passed, you kept checking your phone over and over, waiting for that email from the agency you applied to two weeks ago. You got nothing, as usual. Nothing besides a text from your sister asking for forty dollars; she probably ran out of baby formula again.
With a loud sigh, you decided to scroll through Instagram while Nate flirted with some customers. You quickly noticed that your college friend Christine had just been promoted again. She had been working at her father's company since her sophomore year, and her longtime boyfriend, Tom, had proposed to her in front of the Eiffel Tower.
Uh, wow, that's nice—good for her.
"Congrats, babe! Oh my god, he's so lucky to have you in his life. And good luck at your new job," you send her a quick DM, like a good friend would.
And you are, objectively, a good friend. You're even congratulating her on her promotion as if she weren't a spoiled, airheaded bitch who never accomplished anything on her own. Christine had everything handed to her on a silver platter; her parents got her an amazing job at their company, then paid for her boob job, her nose job, her new car, and her apartment—the list goes on.
You watched the couple showing off the engagement ring under the Parisian sunset and felt like the most self-absorbed cunt on Earth. At this point, you're used to feeling like that, at least twice a day. You spent the rest of your shift watching her stories over and over until it was time to close.
“I’m heading out,” you said to Nate as you finally grabbed your stuff from the break room. The city felt colder than usual that time of year; you could feel your lips getting chapped every time you stepped outside, so you quickly wrapped your old yellow scarf around your neck while zipping up your jacket. The café was already empty; the other employees had left fifteen minutes earlier, leaving just the two of you to close up.
Nate barely looked at you when you said goodbye to him.
You didn't care.
During your walk to the bus stop, you looked around the dark street pretending you’re not totally shitting yourself under the dim streetlights—holding your purse tightly against your frame, like you're about to be mugged by the thin air.
In those moments of raw vulnerability and panic, the whole idea of vigilantism seemed pretty cool. People in latex or spandex you don't actually know, jumping off buildings and beating up bad guys, defending the working class and pretty girls in distress. That's pretty neat, uh?
And very unrealistic.
Once inside the bus and comfortably seated, you let your thoughts wander again. You didn't know what you were doing with your life anymore. You never did, in fact.
The beauty of the night, the cold air coming from the bus's open windows, and the lights of the buildings dancing against the dark sky managed to soothe some of your pain for a few minutes. Your legs ached after hours of standing behind the counter, you felt burns on your hands, and your feet were uncomfortably squeezed into shoes that were a size too small.
Gradually, you fell asleep leaning against the bus seat, thinking about a nice pair of shoes you saw in the mall three days ago.
The first thing you noticed while slowly waking up was how comfortable you felt. The fabric beneath your body was as soft as silk, and the scent of fresh lavender emanating from it indicated that it had been recently washed—fuck, what is this? Heaven? You whined, shoving your whole face against it and breathing in.
Yeah, that’s definitely lavender—
Wait.
Public transportation didn’t smell like lavender, last time you checked. Your whole body went rigid as a cold shiver ran down your spine.
You immediately opened your eyes.
Fuck, fuck. What the fuck is happening?
You weren't on a bus anymore, that's for sure. Jesus, where's your purse?
“Fuck!” you almost screamed in pure panic as a painful sensation spread between your ribs and stomach, burning so much it seemed to take your breath away as you tried to sit up.
You were on a bed. A king-size bed. Sitting on silk sheets.
“Oh my god, someone kidnapped me—”
You looked around the bedroom as tears immediately filled your wide eyes. Your heart raced, and your hands trembled as you tried to make sense of the unfamiliar place you had woken up in.
The growing panic and fear for your life were so overwhelming that you couldn’t even notice the beautiful, very personal decor around the room or the several photos on the walls and desk, showing your face next to people you had never seen in your entire life.
"Oh, miss, thank God you're awake" a gentle voice said — is that a british accent? — close to the bedroom's door.
That's it, you're going to be killed by a weird, rich old man, and he's going to sell your organs on the black market.
Oh God, you quietly sobbed, you've always slept on the bus on your way back home, and you've never had any problems before—
Through the tears that blurred your vision, you could finally make out the figure of a tall man slowly approaching your bed. He was holding a cup of tea and a plate with what looked like a sandwich.
A cucumber sandwich.
"It seems like you may have hit your head quite hard. And your ribs," he said, handing you the cup and placing the plate on the bedside table. The man sighed loudly. "Master Damian really needs to contain his enthusiasm during sparring sessions."
The cup shook in your left hand as you looked at him with tearful eyes. He politely pretended not to notice your desperate state or the tears in the corners of your eyes as he walked back to the door.
"Hey, Alfie, have you seen my white socks?" another voice called out, this time from the hall.
"They're still on your bedroom drawers, Master Dick."
"Oh, right, sorry."
Wait, that was Batman's butler or—
Your vision faded to black as you collapsed back onto the silk sheets.
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tag-list: @rosescarlettx, @btsloveer07-blog, @rainbowstar, @xingyunny, @mikyapixie, @sheep-from-rad, @fandomly-obsessed, @migilore, @natsukicookies, @candlewitch-cryptic, @socialmess-jery, @mona1704, @dieforcoffee26, @stupouid, @astrelz, @dind1n, @cxcilla, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @ceridwyn3, @sunako50
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sinofwriting · 1 year ago
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Under His Wing - Jenson Button
Words: 1,177 Summary: Oscar had thought when Mark had taken his sister under his wing that it was a great idea. Turns out it was the worst idea in the world as he stares at a picture of Jenson and his sister kissing. Note(s): Reader is Oscar’s sister. Large age gap between her and Jenson. No part two will be written.
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Masterlist | Support Me! | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration
Oscar had four sisters. All younger than him and all equally as annoying and he didn’t have a favorite. It would be unfair really. But if he was to have a favorite sister? It would be Y/N.
They were nearly twins, just ten months apart, but you’d never think so with the way she always tagged along with him everywhere.
When he moved to the UK for his racing career, six months later she joined him. When he moved out of boarding school and into a flat, she joined him. She joined him at races, at pr and press events, she always joined him. And thankfully when Mark became his manager in 2020 he recognized how important she was to him, really how important his family was to him, and as soon as she got her degree she was working with Mark.
Oscar had been beyond grateful, because she loved f1 just as much as he did, she just didn’t have an interest in driving. She did want a career in it and Mark had given her that opportunity without Oscar having to beg whatever team he was a part of to give her a chance or make her an employee of his, which would have not worked for either of them.
He’s beyond grateful for the chance that Mark gave her, for what Mark has done for him, for his career, for taking them both under his wing, but now as he stares at the photo on his phone, he wishes that he never let Mark Webber meet his sister.
“Jenson.” She giggles as he presses kisses to her neck.
He grins at the sound, nipping at the thin skin and reveling in her gasp. “Yes, sweetheart?”
Her temple presses briefly against his as she gently shakes her head. “I want a kiss.”
He can hear the pout on her lips, the wide-eyed look she has on her face, as she tries to get what she wants. Not, he thinks, that she really has to try and convince him to give her anything.
“Come here, sweetheart.” He murmurs, turning her so she’s facing him and sure enough, she’s pouting up at him, her bottom lip sticking out beautifully. “You want a kiss?”
She nods.
Leaning down, he kisses her, taking that bottom lip of hers in between his own. “Is that better?”
“Much.” She sighs, making him kiss her again.
Releasing her, he watches as she goes over to her bag and pulls out of her phone. A joke is on the tip of his tongue about kids and their phones these days, but his dominant hand is pulling his own phone out of his pants pocket, wanting to check his messages before seeing if he can convince her to join him in the shower, a light sweat clinging to him from their hike.
His eyebrows furrow at the sheer amount of missed calls and texts he has and he quickly answers the next call.
“Mark, Is everything alright?”
“Jenson.”
“What’s going on?” He asks, shooting a concerned glance at Y/N, whose looking at her phone, confused.
“Are you in California right now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you with anyone?”
His eyebrow raises, “no. Why?”
“So, Y/N Piastri, Oscar’s sister and my assistant isn’t with you.”
Jenson freezes. “How did you-?”
The older cuts him off. “You two were spotted on a hike, kissing.”
“Fuck.” He drags a hand over his face while the one holding his phone, pulls the device away from his ear and mouth a bit. “Sweetheart, we’ve got a bit of a problem.”
“Does the problem have anything to do with why Oscar has nonstop been calling and texting me?” She asks, moving back over to him and he winces as she watches her let another call from Oscar just ring through.
“We got spotted on our hike.” He tells her, as he puts his phone on speaker. “Mark called as well.” He doesn’t mention any of the other names he also saw littering his phone screen, that could wait until after.
“How bad is it?”
“PR wise?” Jenson’s nose wrinkles, face twisting in disgust at how that’s the first thing Mark says, considers, even though it’s his job in some sort. “Not too bad. There’s a lot of shock, questions. It’s more Oscar I’m worried about.”
“He’s not happy.”
“Happy?” Mark laughs. “He apparently went ballistic seeing the photos. Lily called me, she was with him when he saw. Last update I had from her, he was trying to get Max to give him his private jet so he could come to California to kill Jenson. Since y’know he found out through twitter that his little sister is doing something with a guy twice her age.”
“You introduced us.” Jenson protests.
“Yeah, because I thought you’d be good friends. Not,” he pauses unsure of what to call it.
“Dating?” She fills in for him.
“Yeah, dating.” He sighs. “Did anyone know before this?”
“No.” They both answer at the same time.
Mark sighs again. “Alright, well it’s time to start talking. You need to call your own manager Jenson, Y/N call Oscar, we can handle our side of the PR after Jenson gets his figured out.”
“Got it. Sorry, Mark.”
“Don’t worry about it, kid.”
Before Jenson can say anything the call is ended and he’s staring at his phone, bemused. “I think he likes you more than me.”
She laughs. “Well, do you blame him?”
He quickly shakes his head. “No. Be stupid to not like you.” He dips his head down, wanting a kiss, but she steps away, shaking her head.
“No, not happening. You can get a kiss after you talk to your manager and I talk Oscar out of killing you.”
Jenson winces, that was not going to be a fun conversation. “I’m alright with a bit of light maiming.”
“Jenson.”
“Sweetheart,” he chuckles at the serious look on her face. “He’s going to want to kill and hurt me. I’m sure your mum and dad are the same way. I’m sure next time I see Mark I’m going to get a nice elbow to the ribs. It’s just what’s going to happen. I made my piece with that after our fifth date.”
She pouts and he can’t help but pull her into a hug. “I don’t want you to get hurt and I don’t want anyone fighting about this.”
“I know.” He kisses the top of her head. “And we can hope that it doesn’t happen, that it goes more smoothly than how it feels currently, but we both knew that us being together would rock the boat.”
“I think we need a bigger boat.”
He snorts. “Maybe. Now let’s make our calls, get them done and over with yeah?”
“Yeah.” She sighs, pulling away from him before smiling and then she’s pouting up at him again, just like earlier. “Kiss?”
He shakes his head, but brushes their lips together for just half a second. “There ya go, sweetheart. Little something to tide you over.”
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luvyeni · 1 year ago
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❛THE SINNER AND THE SIN❜ ( l. heeseung )
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p. badboy!heeseung x fem!reader w. 4.7k+
— 𖦹 warnings. corruption kink, drug usages, virginity loss, unprotected sex, oral ( f. receiving )
authors note. this was supposed to be a short drabble but oh well ,🤷🏽‍♀️— 𖦹 ( heeseung never really liked church until he met you ) !
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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lee heeseung didn’t want a lot of things— he didn’t want to get up and go to school in the morning, or work with his day on the weekends to “keep him out of trouble” — even though that didn’t stop him from sneaking out in the middle of the night to smoke and drink with his friends
he also didn’t want to go to church with his family on sundays — well at first he didn’t, those people didn’t like him, and he didn’t care, the feeling was mutual— but then he met you, and suddenly he was ready for church every sunday; of course he never ended up staying, getting a few glimpse of you, getting up and leaving out the back where his friends waited with beer and other substances for them to try.
“the new pastors daughter? really?” his friends would laugh at him. “at least the last pastors daughter would give blowjobs to anyone who’d look at her.” jake said. “but her, look at her bro.” he’d just roll his eyes, chewing down on his lip ring as he watched you run to your next class; your long skirt flowing behind you, clutching your books as you maneuvered your way through the halls. “she’s running to class and we still have 10 minutes left and it’s gym class.” heeseung smiled to himself, the funniest thing about that is you didn’t even participate in the class, sitting on the bleachers watching everyone else.
heeseung didn’t see you that day; sunghoon suggesting they leave school to go get high at his house — but he knew he’d see you on sunday, even it was only for a few minutes.
“you know my cousin runs a camp for boys like him.” heeseung rolled his eyes at the older man in front of him and his mother. “have him fixed in no time, those scandalous tattoos and the unholy lip gone; all that dark make up as well, make him a good and respected boy, ready for marriage.” his mother couldn’t do anything but laugh awkwardly, something she always did when anyone questioned his ways. “i’ll get you the number at the end of the service.”
“put your jacket on.” his dad said. “its 70 degrees outside, and 80 in here.” he scoffed. “yeah well you should’ve thought about that before messing your skin up with all that scribble.” he said as the music started, they stood up. “you’ll sneak out in about 10 minutes anyway, for now don’t disrespect the lord with that garbage on your arm.” he threw the jacket over his arms annoyed. “thank you.”
10 minutes in and he still hadn’t seen you yet; normally you’re sitting right in front with your mother, legs covered by a blanket, hiding your legs that he'd gotten a peak of a few times before you were quickly covered up by your mother; he was sure she knew he was looking at you, of course she didn’t want her daughter being gawked at, especially by a boy like him.
his phone rang out, some people turned their heads, realizing who it was, shaking there heads before turning back. “do you mind?” his mom whispered. he took his phone out; reading the message from jay. ‘are you done staring at your girlfriend? get your ass on, jake is losing his mind without his weed.’
he tucked his phone away; standing up. his parents don’t even look at him, they’re used to this; guess he'll see you in school. walking out of place, about to make his way out the back. “you can go out the front you know?” a voice made him stop; a voice he’d only heard from afar until now. “you always go out the back, but the front is right there, they can’t keep you here, that would be kidnapping.”
he turned around facing you; your white blouse covered in red and wet. “my sister spilled her juice on me.” Your soft voice calmed him. “my favorite shirt too.” you mumbled to yourself, he smiled to himself, he was about to say something when the back door swung open. “hyung.” jake’s voice rang throughout the hallway. “hurry the fuck up, the beers are getting cold.”
your eyes widened; ready to turn and walk the other way— he was gonna kill jake. “wait.” he called out, you stopped mid walk. “here.” you turned around and he was shucking his jacket off, handing it to you. “to cover up your shirt, your shirt is white and it’s see through.” he watched your arms fly up to your chest, covering yourself, he chuckled; extending his arm out— he’d already seen it. “th-thank yo-you.” you said meekly, grabbing the jacket. “i-i’ll return it tomorrow.”
he nodded, a door swinging open again — this time it was the door to the church. “yn!” you heard your mother gasp. “mother.” you said. “yn get over here this instance.” you turned to the boy apologetically, your mother looked at the boy with disgust in her eyes, he scoffed under his breath. “see you around pinky.” he said, your eyes widened as he turned to walk out the back— your bra was pink. “what were you doing out here?” she asked. “and with that boy?” you shook your head. “nothing mother, just trying to get the stain out the shirt like you said.” you showed her the jacket. “he let me borrow this, that’s it.” You starred at the ground. “you can’t wear this, what would people think?” she exclaimed. “i have nothing else.”
“here.” she took her sweater off, handing it to you. “you are to give that boy his jacket back tomorrow and never speak to him again, you understand?” you nodded. “good, now let’s go listen to the rest of your fathers sermon.” she held your lower back, guiding you back to your seats, you held the jacket in your hand, the cute boy who you always watched leave the church; the boy you’ve watched since you moved here— he gave you his jacket.
“so?” jake slammed his locker shut. “was i wrong and is little church girl a freak?” jay rolled his eyes at the boy. “this is why we tell you not to smoke before school.” jake shrugged. “just asking a question, she looked pretty flustered yesterday.” heeseung frowned. “yeah cause she was soaked.” jake began to cheer— the people in the hall just trying to get to class, looking at the chaos the boy was causing— everyone knew where his mind went. “not like that you idiot, her shirt was soaked.” The boy high out of his mind let out a oh; the kids in the hall.
“i didn’t even get a chance to talk to her, dumbass over there ruined it and her mother walked out.” heeseung grumbled. “i gave her my jacket though so she should be coming around soon.” sunghoon spoke up. “that’s if her parents didn’t make her burn it, thinking it was cursed with some demon.” The group of boy erupted into a fit of laughter. “shut up.”
you sat your things down at your desk; you always chose to sit in the back by yourself; you preferred it that way. “hello pinky.” heeseung sat down next to you with a smirk. “wh-what are you doing?” you stuttered, he never came to first period, you started to forget he was in this class. “wanted to see what was so special about the back seat.” he shrugged. “its nice back here, might have to sit back here for now on.” he tilted his head. “that okay pinky?” you nodded, unable to speak, afraid of what would come out.
“i-i ha-have your jacket.” you said. “it-it’s in my locker, i can give it to you after school.” you could barely look him in the eye, he liked that, gave him a sense of power. “okay.” he smiled, the bell ringing, he stood up, your eyes following his tattooed arms. “whe-where are you going, class is starting, your not staying?” your eyes wide with curiosity, you looked so cute starring up at him.
“oh im not staying.” he said, watching your lips form a pout. “oh.” he smiled, did you want him to stay? “don’t be too upset baby, i just came to see you, i’ll see you later for my jacket.” your mind short circuited upon hearing him call you baby; he chuckled, watching you stumble over your words. “i’ll come find you yeah?” he said, you nodded. “good, i’ll see you then baby, enjoy your class.” you gave him a small wave as he left out the class, smiling to yourself, like a little girl given a new doll— a cute and tall and seriously tatted doll.
he had it all planned out— after a five minute curse out from jake for ruining his plans for “a girl who wouldn’t give you the time of day” — his words; heeseung ignore the boy, he finally got away from them, making his way back to the school, just in time to make it to the final bell, standing by your locker, waiting for you. “he-heeseung.”
“told you i’d be back didn’t i?” you shyly nodded, opening your locker. “h-here.” you pulled out his jacket, handing it to him. “you keep it, give it back to me when i drop you off.” Your eyes widened. “ta-take me home?” you shook your head. “my sister is home, if i show up with you she’ll tell my parents.” you frowned. “im not allowed to be with boys alone, especially.” you trailed off. “boys like me?” you nodded. “im sorry.”
“don’t be baby.” he said. “if i was your dad i wouldn’t want my precious baby being dropped off by a guy like me.” he said, lifting your head up by your chin looking you in the eyes. “he’s a smart man baby.” you felt your knees about to give out with the way he was looking at you. “w-will i see you at church?” he chuckled. “will you speak to me?” he kissed your cheek, your eyes widened. “don’t worry baby i’ll see you.” he let your chin go. “don’t miss your bus baby.” he said, closing your locker for you. “th-thank you.” you walked away, cheeks burning, his jacket still in your hand.
“you disobeyed me child.” your mother opened the door as you got ready for church. “what do you mean?” she opened the closet, pulling out the jacket you were meant to give back to heeseung days ago. “i strictly told you to return him his jacket and then you were to leave him alone.” she tossed the jacket to the floor, you picked it up, holding it to your chest. “what is this you’ve been accepting rides from him?”
it's true, after that day heeseung ask you again; and you agreed only if he dropped you off a few blocks from where you lived. “hanseuls mother saw you get out of his car, how long did you think you could hide this?” she shouted. “he’s a nice boy mother.” you said. “nice boy?” she scoffed. “you see the way he looks, hear the way he acts, he’s no good and he’s damned to hell.”
“i like him mama!” you shouted, it was the first time you shouted at your mother; it felt good. “has he done something to you, to make you act like this, has he tainted your soul?” you were frustrated. “mama are you asking if we had sex?” she gasped. “no we didn’t , he’s respectful.” You’ve never seen your mothers eyes widened. “what has gotten into you child? wait until your father hears of this.”
“nothing has gotten into me mother, but im 18, i am old enough to make these decisions on my own.” you said. “i’ll be off to college soon and i know nothing about anything, it’s like im stuck in a kids mind.” You said. “yn i- im not a child anymore.” you clutched heeseungs jacket. “stop treating me like one.”
the ride to the church was what you expect, your parents yelling at how you were pretty much damned to hell along with heeseung; that he was gonna lead you down a path of horrible decisions , to which you just starred out the window, blocking out the screaming until you reached the church.
you saw heeseung sitting outside the church inside his car, a crowed of people walking into the church— now it was your chance. “there he is im gonna get out and tell that degenerate to leave my daughter alone.” not if you could stop it; as soon as he stopped, you quickly open the door, running across the parking lot ignoring your mother and fathers calls.
you opened the door to heeseungs car; his eyes widened. “yn.” he saw you heavy breathing. “whats- please drive.” you looked out the window, your dad angrily approaching the car. “uh shit, he found out.” you nodded, he started the car. “please drive now.” your dad was about to knock on the window when heeseung sped off, leaving a cloud of dust in the wind. “shit.”
“my parents are gonna kill me.” he said driving down the street, you could no longer see the church. “screw my parents, your parents are gonna kill me.” he turned to you— you were starring out the window, much calmer than before; he smiled. “i can roll the window down if you want.” you nodded, he rolled the window down, the warm air hitting your skin, the sun shining down on your body. “it feels nice.”
“so little runaway, where to?” he said, you shrugged. “you ran away without a plan? rookie move pinky.” He teased. “it was my first time, and its blue today.” he smiled as your eyes widened; you clearly didn’t mean to tell him that. “good to know.” he said. “well you’ve already ran away and according to your dad committed 666 sins, what’s a few more?” he said. “lets go see my friends.” he did a u-turn, placing his hand on your thigh. “this okay with you?” you nodded, so he kept it.
you pulled up to a house, much bigger than yours. “jays parents are loaded and are hardly home.” he said. “this is where you always sneak off to when you should be in school?” he laughed. “little miss runaway judging me now.” you pouted. “cheer up pup, we’re gonna have fun i promise.”
“put that on.” he pointed to his jacket that you’ve been holding this time. “why?” you asked. “because i told you to.” He looked down at your outfit, your pretty white dress, these guys get off on girls like you for fun and he’ll be damned if he loses you to jay or worse— jake. “fine.” you put the jacket on. “how do i look?”
how did he tell you that you wearing his clothes made him want to take you back to his car and fuck you until the block knew his name. “you look cute.” he grabbed your hand. “will your friends like me?” you looked at him. “maybe a little too much, it kinda makes me not want to bring you in.” he said, holding your chin with his other hand. “you’re too cute for those guys to even look at.” he kissed your cheek, you giggled in response. “stop it.”
heeseung didn’t bother knocking on the door, just walking in. “his house is nice.” you said. “don’t tell him that, he hates it.” you nodded as he guided you throughout the house. “we usually hang out downstairs in his basement.” he said opening another door. “yo , jay!” he shouted. “down here heeseung.” he turned to you, fixing his jacket so it covered you. “they’re harmless most of the time, don’t worry.” he went first, still clutching your hand as you went down the steps.
“how was church?” you heard them laughing, the smell of marijuana hitting your nose. “what chapter did you learn today?” heeseung rolled his eyes. “dumbasses look up from the weed.” they turned to you, falling silent— you squeezed heeseungs hand, squeezing it. “hi.” you smiled, waving.
“yall see her too right, this not a bad trip.” all the boys turned to the boy who was laid across the couch in the fully done basement. “shut up jake.” heeseung guided you to the single couch. “sit.” he tapped his lap. “o-on your lap?” he hummed. “yeah.” he said. “or you could sit next to jake.” The boy smiled, obviously high. “i don’t bite.” jay laughed. “you just bit sunghoon.” heeseung pulled you by your waist, you yelp falling into his lap.
“yn would you like something to drink?” jay said. “jay has sodas upstairs, i can go get you one.” jake said attempting to stand. “is he okay?” you questioned. “jake? yeah, he’s under the influence baby, don’t worry about.” heeseung said, the grip on your waist becoming more tighter. “baby?” jake said. “shut up jake, don’t worry yn i’ll go get you a soda.” jay stood up, walking up the steps.
“so how did heeseung get you here, it is sunday after all?” sunghoon asked. “you are here on your own will right?” you laughed, heeseung scoffed. “she’s the one who ran away.” jake laughed. “you two are like romeo and juliet.” sunghoon shook his head in disappointment. “heeseung.” jake handed him off what you obviously knew was marijuana, that he’d been smoking and a beer. “no it’s fine, im good.”
“what your girlfriend is here and you’re trying to be a good boy.” jake teased. “jake.” jay warned coming back down the steps. “here yn i bought you a few.” you thanked him, opening one, taking a sip. “heeseung at least have a drink.” you turned to the boy. “you don’t have to hide anything, just do what you normally do.”
“you sure, i still have to drive you home.” he said. “you two can stay here for the night, heeseung normally does that anyway.” jay said, you smiled thanking him. “well then i don’t mind, my parents will have my head anyway.” he laughed, jake held out his hand containing the lit up substance. “you know you want you.”
so he did, letting himself get comfortable after a few puffs and a few beers; he was much more laid back, his legs were more spread apartment; man spreading— his hands low on your waist. “so yn are you and heeseung dating?” jake asked. “uh— yeah we are.” heeseung sat up straight, now his hard chest was pressed against your back. “chill bro, she’s all yours.” jake took a sip of his drink. “you got any pretty church friends?”
“jake put the weed down, it’s time you sobered up a bit.” jake slurred his words. “but im sleeping here.” he pouted. “doesn’t mean i want to take care of you.” you smiled, watching the boys fight the other to stop drinking and to take a sip of water. “whats so funny baby?” you felt heeseung rest his chin in between your shoulder blades. “your friends are really funny.”
“you think?” you didn’t notice to shift in his voice. “you okay?” you asked, feeling him continuously shift in his seat. “am i too heavy i can go sit on the couch.” you let out a gasp, feeling his arm wrap around your waist. “don’t move.” you finally heard the deepening of his voice. “you feel good.”
heeseung could normally control himself, but between the weed and alcohol running through his blood— the fact you’d been moving around in his lap for the past 3 hours, it was safe to say he was fully rock hard. “ar-are you getting sleepy?” you stuttered, you knew what he wanted, and you were ready— you wanted him to take your virginity. “heeseung knows where the guest bedroom is.” jay said.
“lets go to bed hee.” you stood up. “okay.” he stood up, still holding your hand. “its nice to meet you yn.” jake said, sunghoon sitting on top him trying to force water into the drunk boys mouth. “yeah good night.” the boy huffed, fighting on top of the other. “night.”
you made it to the room, opening the door. “come.” heeseung flopped down on the bed. “come lay with me.” he whispered; you kicked your shoes off, shredded yourself of his jacket; joining him in bed, sitting down. “no baby.” he chuckled, pulling you down next to him. “i want you to lay with me.”
his face was so close to yours, laying on yourside; his cheeks red from the beer, eyes matching from the weed. “so cute baby.” he fingers traced your jaw. “so cute, you ran to me today.” he whispered. “i like you heeseung.” you held his hand as he caressed your cheek. “oh baby i like you too, so much.” His breath hot against your face, making your breath hitch. “you wanna kiss baby?” you nodded, he closed the small gap.
his lips felt dry against your soft ones, but it didn’t bother you— especially with the way his hands was slowly pulling up your dress, you hips desperately trying to chase his fingers. “slow down baby.” he laughed against your lips. “i’ll give you whatever you want.” he finally found your panties, his fingers touching your clothed cunt. “just let me do everything.”
he was now on top of you, his knee in between your legs. “let me take care of this pussy.” you whimpered at his words. “heeseung.” his hand stroked your cunt. “gonna eat you.” he pushed your dress above your waist. “lets get you out of these, they’re all ruined anyway.” he pulled your panties down, almost moaning at your untouched cunt. “fuck baby, you’re so tiny down there.”
“st-stop it.” you covered your face. “don’t hide this pretty face.” he removed your hands, kissing your cheek. “i wanna see your face when i make you cum for the first time on my tongue.” soon he was face to face with your cunt. “you smell nice baby.” you let out a soft moan as he kissed your cunt. “heeseung.”
he held your thighs open, his nose brushing against your clit. “fuck heeseung!” you moaned out. “language baby.” he chuckled, licking a fat strip against your heat. “my baby doesn’t use bad language.” he pinched your thighs, diving right into your cunt, eating you up like he’d never tasted anything in his life.
heeseung was in heaven, he was no longer intoxicated because of the alcohol or the drugs— it was you; you were consuming his every being, your sweet cunt dripping into his mouth, your soft moans, your tiny hands pawing into the bed sheets desperate to hold something as he sucked on your poor clit. “heeseung it feels funny.” you moaned out. “stop please.”
he forced himself away from your heat. “that means you’re gonna cum baby.” he kissed the inside of your thighs. “don’t you wanna cum on my tongue.” you whimpered out as he kitty licked your clit, the feeling soon returning. “i-i feel it again.” you moaned, he hummed out in approval. “heeseung im gonna cum.”
the feeling was euphoric, your body felt like it was floating, your legs wrapping around his head as you came, he had to undo your legs from his head, as much as he wanted to die in between your cunt, he wanted to be first one to fuck you. “that felt good baby?”
you nodded, he took his shirt off tossing it across the room. “you want something better, you want my cock baby?” you nodded, he lifted your dress over your head, leaving you in your blue bra. “gonna take this off okay.” he unhooked the bra, letting it fall. “so pretty.” his cock twitching in anticipation, desperate to fuck you. “pretty tits.”
he toyed with your nipples, squeezing your mounds, using his other hand to unbuckle his belt. “you wanna see it baby?” you nodded. “ye-yes please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, never been fucked before, you were ready to feel it. “wanna feel it inside.”
he groaned at your words. “fuck baby you don’t even now what you’re asking for.” he quickly pulling his pants off, letting his cock free, your eyes widened, you’d never seen one before, but he was definitely big and thick. “don’t be scared baby, touch it baby.” he guided your hands down his abs, groaning as you made contact with his length. “fuck baby, wrap your hand around it.” You obeyed. “good girl, now stroke it some.”
it felt heavy in your hands, he held the himself up on the headboard as you stroked him. “fu-fuck baby if you don’t stop im gonna cum.” he cursed. “let me put it in.” you let him go, he positioned himself in between again, letting his cock slap against your stomach. “its so big.” he smirked. “yeah?” he grabbed the base of his shaft. “gonna take all of it?”
he pressed his leaking tip at your entrance, you whimpered. “don’t be scared baby.” he slowly pushed inside you. “go-gonna be gentle.” his voice quivered as he forced himself not to stuff you full of his cock— he didn’t want to hurt you, but your cunt was sucking him in. “fuck baby your pussy is swallowing my cock.”
it felt uncomfortable the sudden intrusion, his cock slowly filling you up. “heeseung.” you whimpered. “i know baby, i know.” he pushed the last few inches in. “its in baby, you took me all.” he kissed your forehead. “good job baby.” his voice quivering due to your cunt squeezing his cock like crazy. “fuck baby, calm down my dick feels like its gonna break.” he grunted. “m'gonna move now.”
he slowly moved , dragging his cock along your walls. “fuck.” he cursed. “i love this cunt already.” he groaned. “so glad i was the first one to feel you.” he started to move his hips. “you feeling good baby.”
“so-so big.” You moaned. “c-can feel it in my st-stomach.” fuck— you were gonna kill him. “pl-please go faster.” he picked up the pace, the sounds from your cunt getting louder, right along with your moans. “don’t cover your mouth, let them hear you.” He grabbed your wrist. “let them hear how i fuck you.” you moaned out louder as he sped up. “i feel you tightening around me baby.” he hummed. “you gonna cum for me?”
you nodded. “good girl cum all over my cock, make a mess for me.” you let a few gasp, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck.” he moaned. “you pushed me out when you were cumming.”
he rubbed his shaft along your swollen pussy , trying reach his high. “fuck, fuck baby gonna cum all over this tiny pussy.” he moaned. “fuck you’re mine now, no else can feel this pussy, it’s mine; gonna mold it to only take my cock.” you felt another high cumming, your cunt twitching. “you cumming again?” you nodded. “fuck me too, cum for me, one last time.”
Your legs shook as you came, he cursed stroking his cock until he came, coating your cunt in his seed. “there you go baby -fuck- cum for me.” cum dripping from the tip of his cock.
“fuck you’re so pretty; my pretty pretty baby.”
“fuck my parents are gonna kill me.” he said the next evening. “if the cops already aren’t waiting for me at your house to arrest me for kidnapping.” you pouted, you wish you could stay at jays with him and his friends. “don’t be sad baby.” he said. “just gonna drop you off, i’ll see you tomorrow i promise.” he said. “i don’t even have a phone to call you.” You said, your parents didn’t allow you to have one.
“take mines, i have another.” he said. “really?” he nodded pulling up to the street right before yours. “i’ll call you tonight alright baby?” he grabbed your face. “answer when i call.” he roughly kissed you, this kiss much more passionate, full of fire. “okay heeseung.” You got out the car. “you better answer my call baby.” He blew you one last kiss before watching you run down the block.
speeding back to his house so he can quickly deal with his parents, and then locking himself in his room so he spend the night talking to you.
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©️LUVYENI
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ohcorny · 8 months ago
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i reread all of chobits recently as insp for my next TT book and every time i think about some aspect of it all i want to do is rip it open and tear it apart and go "why?". it brings up so many concepts and scenarios within the premise of "what if computers looked like pretty girls" but it doesn't want to commit to saying anything about it or take its own world seriously.
i have a lot to say about chobits. arguably i have more to say about chobits than even chobits wants to say about chobits.
chobits is about sex except it isn't about sex at all. chi's power switch is in her vagina. we're shown images of chi doing sexy things, she gets tricked into doing a strip tease, and two separate men try to finger her and she does her Do Not Touch Me There magic powers thing, and we eventually learn every time she resets from the power button, her memories are erased, so you can't have sex with her without deleting her.
but we never unpack why her reset button is in her vagina, or why it's so important that nobody can ever touch her, or why people's personal computers were built with vaginas in the first place (we never have it confirmed that all persocoms have them, but that two separate men try to touch her there imply it's expected). why do the personal computers shaped like women have vaginas if not to fuck them. as a product, it is expected that you will fuck them*.
*i assume, because the comic never says so!
the man who invented persocoms is the same person who built chi and her sister, and he built them to be daughters for his wife. he put the reset button in chi's vagina. we never find out why. we never get a HINT of why. he built the chobits so they could feel and fall in love, but also built them so they could never fuck. you can extrapolate a reason why a man might build his daughter-androids that way, but the series itself never touches it, and never makes any sort of point about it. it's just presented as an immutable fact that chi can't fuck without it deleting her, as if it was born of happenstance and not a person's choice.
what does that actually say about anything? what is it trying to say about sex? is it about the commodification of female bodies, how once they're used up sexually they're worthless? that if you can't love somebody without fucking them, what good is your love? that love without sex is okay (but also a huge burden and sacrifice a man must accept for the sake of someone else's happiness?)
what does it want to say! chobits is about sex, but it doesn't want to commit to any specific message about sex.
and that's just ONE issue i have with it. there are so many things chobits wants to be about but won't say anything about. it wants to be about the persocoms replacing human connections, we constantly get told 'gee people hang out with persocoms a lot', chitose publishes a whole inexplicable book series about people preferring persocomes to humans. it's to the degree that a prominent character's husband gets So wrapped up in (presumably) fucking his android that he locks his actual wife out of the house, having just straight up forgotten she exists. we don't have anything to say about it though. she falls in love with a new man. the people who hang out with their persocoms too much are all background characters in crowds. we never look at how the rise in persocoms has affected society as a whole.
it wants to be about grief, in the story about the man who marries a persocom and has to watch her slowly degrade until she can't remember him anymore, or the kid whose older sister died and he tried to replace her with a persocom who he dresses up/treats as a maid and lives alone with despite being omega orphaned and 11 years old. but then it's fine. the man who married a persocom gets in a relationship with a high school girl 20 years younger than him (CLAMP!). it's fine! the boy who tried to replace his older sister just accepts that the persocom replacement won't replace her. still treats/dresses her up like a maid and lives alone. is she his legal guardian. i don't know. don't worry about it.
and it wants to be about women, because everything about the story is about women, all the persocoms are women, all the tragedies are wrapped up in the death of a woman, or a woman's heartbreak, or a woman's feelings. but it has fucking nothing to say about women beside look how pretty they are. my boobs are E cup, sempai :) teehee
it makes me insane.
friend @amphiaria put it best as "Unfortunately the story is uninterested in itself" and i can never forgive it for being so aesthetically good, giving us the best design for an android (the ear things are Perfect) and then being So Fucking Bad.
in conclusion:
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nineteenninety-six · 6 days ago
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"I like doing daughter! and sister! readers but I struggle with ideas so if you have any ideas for them or even just general friendship platonic ideas then please send them my way <3"
You just made my day, I loved your abbot and Robby one ughhh so good written
Hmm what about finally getting alone time with your dad and you’re just about to go inside with him, his shift has ended and boom you slip on black ice, ouch your head hits the ground and your arm with it, now honestly if it’s Robby or abbot doesn’t matter, it’s just fun if it’s abbot he ends up in the er on Robby’s shift and opposite , like she gets a concussion and like maybe a Dana cameo, some fluff since you know angst so well
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Slip and Fall
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Pairing: Michael Robinavitch x daughter!Reader
AN: Don't ask me why this is 2k words, I just couldn't stop. Also idk if any of you are watching tlou but I can't bring myself to watch the new epsiode, like I'm sick at the thought of it.
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Pittsburgh was knee deep in a rough winter, snow fell harder this year and the combined rain and negative degree weather had meant that ice was also a major problem. The roads were plowed and salted but there was no keeping up with the sheer volume that fell.
You were on your way home, looking forward to a night in with your dad who had promised to cook a hearty meal that would heal you from the horrible weather despite his long day and her offer to cook. He had also promised to watch at least two movies with you though you knew he would fall asleep halfway through the first one but that didn't matter to you, you were just happy to spend time with him after a long week.
The biting wind froze you so deep that not even the heat blasting from your dad's car vents warmed you up and so you were incredibly grateful when your dad finally pulled up outside of your house.
You gingerly stepped out of the car, making sure your winter boots were firmly planted  on the ground before you stood to your full height. Your footsteps were slow and steady as you closed the car door behind you and made your way up to front steps where your dad was already waiting for you.
"Be careful. Half the cases that came in today were from accidents due to the weather." Your dad warns as he watches you with hawk eyes.
Once you've reached the bottom step, your dad finally turns around to unlock the door. You clear the second step without any problem but it's not until your boot hits the top and last step that things go wrong.
Your foot disappears from underneath you as you slip on an unseen piece of ice and the momentum wipes you clean off your feet, forcing you to hit the concrete driveway with a solid whack!, your head ricocheting off the ground, and your vision goes dark.
Your father turns around at your startled yelp and watches in frozen horror as slip and falls backwards. It happens so fast that he cannot do anything but watch. There is only half a second of stillness before he springs into action, dropping the bags he held to the ground as he raced over to you, dropping down to his knees and calling out your name, he hesitated to touch your head, fearing a possible head or neck injury.
Robby fished out his phone with one hand and dialled all whilst he rubbed his fist on your sternum, releasing a choked sign of relief at your responding moan as you slowly regained consciousness, eyelids fluttering open.
As he explained what your injury was and told the address to the dispatcher, Robby rested a hand on your abdomen, grounding himself with every inhale and exhale you took.
"D- dad?" You cry out, trying to move your head to search for him, only to be stopped by your father, "Dad?!"
"I'm here sweetheart, I'm here" Your dad's voice brings a wave of comfort that washes over you and he moves so he hovers over you so that you can see him.
"Don't move, you've hurt your head and we don't want to make it any worse" Your father gently wipes the tears off your cheeks, "Don't worry sweetie, I'm here, you're okay."
"It hurts" You sob, pain now spreading across your body. "Help me"
"Tell me where it hurts sweetie "Robby listened out for the ambulance's sirens, waiting for their saving grace.
"All over... my head hurts the most" You gasp, "I feel dizzy and sick"
"Other than that?" Robbie presses his hands up and down your body, searching for any other injuries.
You're halfway through a refusal when he touches your right wrist causing a cry and a fresh set of tears to erupt.
Robby immediately snatches his hands away from your body and apologizes to you.
"You must have landed on your arm when you fell"
"FUCKKK!" You swear, overwhelmed before shiver racks through your body, the chill of the snow and ice finally breaking through the shock you were in.
Finally the sound of sirens sounded down the street as the ambulance made their way to you before they pulled to a stop at the end of the driveway and as soon as the EMT's stepped out their rig, your dad turned into Dr Robby and detailed what happened and what her injuries were.
Robby watched closely as the EMTS placed a C-collar on your neck along with stabilizing your arm before they transfer you to the gurney and take you towards the ambulance where they'll give you painkillers to take the edge off. Robby only has enough time to throw your bags into the house and lock the door before he's climbing into the back of the ambulance to sit alongside you.
Robby grasped your uninjured hand, squeezing it as his stress eased the closer they got to PTMC along with the pain free expression on your face as the painkillers kicked in.
"Who is working tonight? "You ask.
Robby thinks for a moment before answering, "Abbot. Shen and Ellis too I think."
"Shen and Ellis?" Your eyes light up.
"Don't think about it" Your father laughs, "I know they usually get you a coffee and a donut but it's far too late for a coffee."
"What about the donut?" You ask as the ambulance parks in a familiar ambulance bay.
"I think about it" Your father says as you're wheeled out and following after you.
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Dr Abbot did a double take when the EMT's rolled the patient into the emergency department, rattling off your injuries and vitals.
"What the hell happened?" He asked as he snapped on gloves before they transferred you onto a hospital gurney and took you to a private room.
"Slipped on ice and fell off the front steps, hit my head" Your murmur, "My wrist too." 
Abbot let out a low whistle as he looked down at you, "Damn kid"
As Abbot ordered scans, tests and more pain meds, your dad took a seat by your side, hand finding yours once again, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand.
"You'll be okay," Your dad whispers, "Jack is a really great doctor, he knows what he's doing."
"Better than you?" You joke before your expression settles into a slight frown, "I know…I'm just scared I guess, of the possibility."
"You're showing good signs, you're conscious and alert and you can move your arms and legs," He reminds you.
"What's your official doctor's opinion?"
Robby knew you were scared and that's why you were asking so many questions but you were getting lost inside of your head and spiralling into a panic.
"I don't have one, I'm off shift."
You roll your eyes as Abbot returns with the results, the lightness of his shoulders suggesting it was good news.
"The scans for your head came back clear so we can take the collar off and we can clean and close the wound on the back of your head." Abbot says as walks over to you, "You've fractured your wrist but you won't need surgery, just a cast."
"Concussion?" You dad asks.
"Highly likely" Abbot nods, "We'll test after we set her wrist."
Robby nods as leaves your side when the nurse arrives with the stuff for the cast, taking the moment to speak to Jack.
"So she's okay?"
Jack threw him a knowing look, a faint smile on his lips, "All things considered, yes. She'll just have a killer headache and a sore wrist but she's okay."
Jack spoke again at Robby's relieved nod, "You're calmer than I expected."
"If I worry, she worries. I'm trying to keep her calm."
Jack nods, "You're doing a good job."
"You think?"
"I know." There's no space for arguments in Jack's words.
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At your fathers insistence you were staying the night in the ED, despite your protests and Jack's reassurance of your wellness but your father was determined. 
You were sitting in bed scrolling your phone with your dad sitting by your side reading the book he had taken from Abbot when a knock sounded on the door before Shen and Ellis stepped in.
"Heard you took a trip." Shen jokes, "How was it?"
Ellis huffs at the man at his lack of tack before she turns to you and holds out what she held in her hands, "We got you some things, hopefully they make you feel a little better"
"It's not coffee is it?" Your dad says, leaning forward with a raised brow.
Ellis laughs and shakes her head, "We've got you guys some hot chocolates and donuts."
"Don't worry they're not from the hospital, we got DoorDash." Shen told you.
"You splurged on the good shit, thank you." You grin as you happily take the hot chocolate into your hands.
You and your dad thank them again before they leave, having to return to their patients.
You inhale the hot chocolate and donuts with ease only then just realising that you had missed dinner but as they day caught up to you, you found that the only thing you wanted that moment was to sleep and so you quickly drifted off, the sounds of your father reading through the book comforting you.
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Your legs dangled off off the edge of the hospital bed as you waited for your father to return after going to sign the discharge papers. You were itching to leave, you were starving and in desperate need of a shower as well. 
Abbot had offered to drive you back since you had arrived via ambulance and so your dad said he'll take you all out for breakfast. It was nearing seven in the morning so the night shift were finishing up with the last of their patients and preparing for handover while the day shifts were just arriving, getting ready for their day.
A knock on the door was shortly followed by a blonde head poking through the door,
"Hey hon, I heard you were here. Can I come in?"
You quickly nod and melt into the hug Dana pulls you into.
"What happened honey?" Dana ran her thumbs over your cheeks.
"Slipped on some ice, banged my head and broke my wrist."
Dana makes a pained sound as she pulls you into another hug, "You poor thing. You heading home soon?"
"Yeah dad signed the discharge papers and Abbot is dropping us home since we came in an ambulance but dad is taking us to breakfast."
"That's good, you need a proper meal, the little sandwiches they have here aren't any good at all. Let your dad spoil you."
As if he knew we were speaking about him, your dad stepped into your room, "You ready to go kid?"
"Uh-huh"
Dana steps back and supports you as you hop off the bed before all three of you head towards the charge station where Abbot waited for you. You say goodbye to Dana and everyone else before you finally leave the hospital.
As you followed Abbot, your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head, "I'm glad you're okay kid, you really scared me for a moment."
"Really? You seemed so calm." You peer up at him.
"Really." Abbot calls out to you having overheard your conversation, "He was scared out of his damn mind. Now hurry up, I want pancakes in front of me in at least twenty minutes."
You and your father exchange a laugh before you hurry to catch up to Abbot.
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bitchlessdino · 8 months ago
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put it in writing (m)
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In collaboration with @camandemstudios Pairing: college student!seungkwan x Fem!TA!reader Genre: humor, smut Word count: 7.8k tags: college au, TA x student dynamic, push-and-pull, mentions of TXT's soobin, mentions of Ryan Gosling, a lot of fucking lying, explicit content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cream pies, oral, cum-consumption, pet names (baby, good boy), praise kink Summary: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you. a/n: thank you @highvern @sluttyminghao and @strxwberry-skiess for beta reading <3 (late note: I wanna thank @gyuswhore @highvern and @haologram for the brainstorming if I forgot to mention anyone I’m sorry. They’ve been a really big help and we’re super motivating and supportive the entire process I love yall 💕)
You don’t go out. Period. As simple as that.
Until tonight. 
Summer is almost over, and once it ends, you’ll be Professor Yoo’s newest TA. You've worked hard to get to this point and despite the inevitable late-night grading sessions, you expect the experience to be rewarding and maybe even inspirational. You’re sure this achievement would make your academic-forward parents proud. Their daughter, at the top of her class, brimming with excitement and potential, jobs coming in from left and right, all while on her way to...a Writing degree. 
The one downside: they didn’t believe a writing degree would lead to anything substantial. Not like Biomedical engineering or Accounting. The one degree worse than Art. You almost forgot that writing was useless in their eyes because who couldn’t just pick up a pen and paper to scribble some words down?
You down another cheap shot of tequila, muttering your grievances under your breath as your friends revel in the club's pulsating atmosphere. They are only mildly concerned with your drinking habits, accustomed to your tightly wound, studious nature. Typically, you are the one buried in textbooks, rarely venturing into the party scene. Yet tonight, you surprise them all with your ironclad liver, effortlessly downing shots without a hint of a stumble.
“You, okay?”
You scoff, taking yet another shot, “Really depends what that means. ‘Okay’ as in life or ‘okay’ as in financially, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and-slash-or physically fulfilled with proud parents that love me unconditionally?”
“Oh, boy.” Hyeri tries to tear you away from any more alcohol and lays you flat against the back of the leather booth, twisting the top of a water bottle before putting it on your lips. “Let's get you hydrated, hmm? Can’t have you hungover the next day. I’ll be the one you’re complaining to.”
“Suffer my consequences!”
“Of course, darling.”
Hyeri, your steadfast friend since high school and now a new TA from another university, is like a sister to you. She knows your every habit and inclination, no matter how shit-faced you decide to get. “Don’t look, but there’s supple skin, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile looking directly at you.”
You subtly fix your gaze and accidentally meet the young man’s eyes as he nurses a highball glass between his lips. His eyes narrow back at you with interest. You muse back at him, mimicking his action with the water bottle in your grasp. As you drink with your eyes glued on his expression, the water passes over your lips, with the excess trickling suggestively down your chin and neck, your skin glistening in its sheen.
His lips part, dropping in a smug smile–and my, was it prettier than anticipated–and tilt his head as if quietly beckoning you closer. 
“I’m going over there.” 
Before you could get up from your booth, Hyeri is there to immediately tug you back down, eyes full of concern. “Are you sure, hon? You had quite a bit to drink.”
Your eyes crease as you smile back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”
“He looks young, he probably doesn't even know what a 401k is.”
“Do any of us?” You leave off before striding in the direction of the pretty boy, who still can’t keep his eyes off you.
You weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, sidestepping spilled drinks and the pulsating lights of the dance floor, your eyes locked on him. His gaze trails you with every step, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, speaking to you like an incantation. When you finally reach his feet, the distance closing with each heartbeat, his smile grows wider, more inviting. The moment your legs brush against the softness of his leather couch, he leans to maintain your locked gaze, a now more playful glint in his eyes. Your smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is this seat taken?”
“Only by you if anyone else asks,” he smoothly responds.
You gently lower yourself beside him, lifting one leg to cross it over the other, feeling the cool leather beneath you. His eyes follow your every movement, lingering on the curve of your thigh as it presses against the other. You lean in slightly, your curiosity evident in the arch of your brow. “Why all alone? With a face as pretty as yours, I’d expect someone to be all over you by now.”
He shifts his body toward you, his eyes drinking in your appearance, savoring every detail from the whip of your hair and to glitter on your legs. Meanwhile, the subtle spicy sweet scent of his cologne mingles with the ambient aromas of the club, and you can’t even breathe the air without the desire to jump his bones. Especially one in particular.
He regains his smile, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and extends a hand toward you. “I could say the same for you. I’m Seungkwan.”
You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch and the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles. With a graceful nod, you gave him a firm handshake. You return the gesture by introducing yourself, your voice smooth and inviting, matching the rhythm of the music that pulses around you, and that seems to only grow his interest. “What a pretty name. You’ve been here long?”
“Just long enough,” you say, your voice carrying a playful challenge.
“What is it that someone like you does to want to let loose in a place like this?”
“Mmh, I don’t know. It really depends on how much you’re willing to share,” you reply, narrowing your eyes and taking in that body begging to be undressed.
“Well, if you must know, I work somewhere…uncommon,” he says, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
You lean in too, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and propping your chin on your hand, your fingers lightly brushing your lips. “Do tell, Seungkwan.”
“Don’t be surprised, but I’m a bit of a big deal, especially around here,” he brags.
You raise an eyebrow, ready to bite. “That’s very vague. Mind elaborating?”
He briefly shifts his eyes to glance around the room, the smile never leaving his lips. He leans in closer, his breath warm and tickling against your ear, making it burn. “Just know I know the ins and outs of this club,” he whispers, his voice a tantalizing murmur. “Some information you might find even surprising that no one else knows.”
You pull back slightly, your eyes locking onto his, a spark of intrigue dancing between you. “Sounds like you’ve got some secrets,” you murmur, your voice low and rich. You reach for his drink from the table in front of you, your fingers brushing against his thigh for balance as you lift the glass to your lips. You take a slow, deliberate sip, not minding that its rim has touched a stranger's lips. “How sketchy,” you dare insult with a playful glint in your eye as you set the glass back down.
“Care to find out?”
“What part of ‘ sketchy’ did you not understand?” You softly laugh.
“I promise it’s harmless,” his voice brimming with mischief, poking the inside of his cheek playfully. “Or at least, you’d have a little fun.”
You hum amused. “Define fun.”
He takes you by the hand, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor to a secluded corner of the club. The music echoes softly in the background, its bass reverberating through the walls. You follow him through a maze of dimly lit corridors and alcoves, catching glimpses of other partygoers lost in their own worlds.
The air changes as you enter an empty private space, cooler and quieter than the crowded main room. Your eyes fall on a single secluded corner with windows going ceiling to floor, flooding the room with skylight. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of alcohol and the crisp air of a cracked open window too high to reach.
As you settle into a seat in front of the windows, you observe the city through the crystal clear glass, drinking in the scene of small tables adorned with flickering candles, and erotic artwork adorning the walls. The music from the main floor is muted here like the world behind closed doors fell silent for this moment, and only you two are left in the room to bask in it. If temptation was room, this had to be it.
There’s a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something unreadable—resembling pride—before they revert back to his calm suavity. He assumes the seat next to you on the plush velvet couch tucked into a private nook that touches the light of the stars. The soft glow of ambient lights casts a warm, intimate ambiance around you, contrasting with the pulsating beats of the club music that drifts in from the main floor.
“It’s a V.V.I.P area,” Seungkwan explains in a low voice, “Some of the employees don’t even know it exists.”
“But someone like you does?” you inquire, your voice tinged with intrigue.
He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor as his body dipped into the leather. “I have my way around here.”
“Really?” you tease, growing slowly more convinced.
Seungkwan meets your gaze with a playful grin. “I obviously can’t tell you everything,” he says, his tone brimming with mischief. “Just know that I’m involved in ways that keep this place running smoothly. The club would die without me.”
You chuckle softly, savoring his playful confidence, and leaning against the cushions, head turned to him. “What can you tell me?” you ask, your voice growing softer. Your finger traces a teasing path down the collar of his shirt, undoing a button with deliberate slowness. “Humor me,” you exhale, your breath brushing against his ear and your gaze locked with his.
You can hear his breath hitch, and finally, you have him right where you want him. He fixes on the way your legs cross, tracing the curve of your calf up to where they disappear under the hem of your skirt. He seems momentarily captivated by the subtle movement of your flesh as they collide against each other, giving hardly any brain capacity to cumulate words.
You notice the furrow of his brow, a slight tilt of his head—as if he were mentally dissecting his thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes tried to regain clarity. You can almost visualize the gears turning in his mind, each cog clicking into place as he forms a coherent story, if any.
Each word comes out in complete shambles and he is saying more nothing than anything. Whatever the truth is at this point, you don’t care. Seungkwan is just too cute to pass up.
The clearing of his throat tells you he’s finished, the tilt of his smile growing less confident and more anxious as your weight pushes against his chest. He tries to come back from his stumble, picking off strands of hair in front of your face and playing with their ends before changing the subject. “Now tell me your work. What is so amazing that you do?”
“I’m—“ a teacher’s aid in massive debt on their way to graduating with potentially a useless degree neither of their parents is proud of because, although you love it,  you’re too proud to say otherwise, “—a indie movie producer with one of the films up for a reward. Super lowkey right now, but…we got Gosling.” You shrug, impressed with your own lies. “So, things are looking up.”
“That’s quite impressive.” he hums, intrigued and interested in hearing about more. “Is he as nice in real life as he is in interviews?”
“Ryan’s got a screw or two loose, but pretty okay guy. At least not into Scientology or anything.”
“Interesting,” He gaze dips towards you, being drawn to you immensely, if not locking eyes with you, scanning over your features, particularly your lips that wished to be claimed. “You call all big-name celebrities by their first name?”
You shrug, the lying coming more and more naturally than anticipated. “Only the ones I’m close with.”
His palm hugs the curve of your cheek, thumb softly brushing against your bottom lip. “I wonder what getting close to you entails.”
“Are you planning on finding out?”
You give each other a long look, one that keeps waiting and ushering the other until your lips decidedly crash into his. His lips part, making way for your presence, the heat of the kiss flushing your skin and pleased shivers running throughout your entire body. Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth pulling your flesh and a soft sigh escapes his lips before his hand creeps behind your head and muffles a moan that neither were sure from who.
You lift your body from the couch, chasing his pace, and pull him closer, kissing him deeper with all your might. You crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, hands in his hair, breath on his skin. Your chest tightens as he presses you closer by the small of your back, to which you gasp as you part from his lips.
He finds your gaze, his round and glistening eyes meeting yours in soft urgency. “You okay? Something wrong?”
You shake your head, palm clasped against your burning face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
He lets out an amused scoff. “Keep up, Miss producer.”
Your lips reconnect, and fireworks play in your like it’s the fourth of July. Popping and popping. Your lip lock only intensifies as your tongues brush against one another, entangling deeper and soon you realize Seungkwan wasn’t one just to kiss with his lips. 
You ball his clothes in fists when his hands use your hips, running them over his lap, the friction so tantalizing you could hear temptation like a devil on your shoulder. You let him take you, moving towards him replicating crashing waves against sand. Loud. Harsh. Seamless.
Clothes come off soon after, starting with the delicate unbuttoning of Seungkwan’s silk top–donning the torso of one fond of sports and sprayed in excitable perspiration–before then he levers you up and slides slacks down his thighs hurriedly. His bare legs crushed underneath yours, you readily pull up your dress, bunching at your waist as feel him unzip the back, the metal chill against your spine.
“Fuck,” he softly mutters, eagerly digging his fingers in your exposed flesh and whimpering against your kiss. “Don’t hold back with me.”
“Hold back?” you repeat with a chuckle, your fingers that threaded through his hair pulling his head back, angling his head so that he was forced to look up at you in what currently looks to be in awe. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”
“Shit stirrer, huh? I guess that’s why you’re the one handling production.”
Your lips begin to trail down his jaw, front teeth nipping his skin. “Real question is, would you let me handle yours?”
“I’d let you do anything to me,” he mumbles, earnest in every word, every inch of his body vibrating off yours, including the hardening presence between his legs pressing against your stomach. “Just don’t stop.”
Your dress abandoned on the floor, Seungkwan claiming your tits in either hand, kneading them between his fingers as he’s rolling his hips against your plush flesh and feeling your radiating core slide against his shaft. He involuntarily moans through a bitten bottom lip, imagining you ride him just like this until the end of time, thinking he could cum from this alone until he feels you move the tip of his size towards your entrance. “Oh god,” he gives out, the head of his cock readily grazing over your slit, quickly pleased. “So fucking wet. Fuck…”
“I want you inside me,” you admit, not bothering to subdue your desires. “I want to put you inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”
“Fuck…me…” he presses into your skin flushed against one another, lips curled downward in impatience, gripping your full thighs to either of his sides. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Please give yourself to me.”
“You promise you’ll handle it like a good boy?” You tease, pushing his tip only a centimeter deeper.
“Please, please, anything. I just wanna feel that pussy choke me please.” He begs.
Your hand clamps against the couch enthusiastically, “Fuck you’re so needy. That’s so hot.” Gingerly, you reward his pleas, feeling his raw length make contact with your contracting walls, squeezing around his girth and making Seungkwan flip his eyes before he starts guiding your hips.
“Fuck that’s so good, baby.”
You lightly scoff. “Baby? A little soon don’t you think?”
“Thought we found some common ground when you decided for me to fuck you. My mistake,” he chides.
You catch a tendril of his hair between your fingers, “Maybe it’s how you fuck me that grants you such a term of endearment.”
“Better up my game then.” He lifts you up, tangling your legs around his waist before he pushes you on your back, swiftly slamming his hips against you.
Your head crashes deep into the leather, the musky scent of sex now invading your nose as you drown in heat. “Shit.”
“Making sure I get the advantage.” He folds forward to press against you, your breasts back in his hands before his lips wrap around a nipple, his tongue attacking your sensitivity before he inevitably sucks. He leaves you in an ache, your hips thrusting back into him conveniently in time for him to regain his rhythm.
“S-Seungkwan…”
His moan vibrates against your skin, teeth pulling your nipple as he thrusts deeper, grazing your deep end just perfectly not enough. Fucking tease.
You whine beneath him, squirming. Your legs tighten around him, attempting to make friction, and finding a growl in your throat as a hand of Seungkwan’s squeezes your behind. A whole ass cheek in the clutches of his well-groomed hands, squeezing and memorizing its swell, while he’s splitting you in half to deduce you to a bumbling horny mess.
“Where have you been all my life?” He mumbles with glee.
You clench your fists behind him as he heightens his pace, melting into the tender assault of his lips that burn your skin and silence your voice. He ruts into you deeper, pounding away his frustrations and when he makes it known he’s found your spot, you make it clear as day.
“Oh god,” you groan, gripping him tighter. Your jaw drops slack, silent screams coming out of you, and you cling to him like in desperation to maintain that high as you claw against his broad back.
“That’s so good. Is it right there, am I hitting your spot, baby?” he asks with an exhausted grin.
You nod, softly pleading for more, and he generously grants. In an attempt to intensify your core’s pleasure, his hand cups just above your slit, fingers finding your blossoming bud. Your breath is shot, feeling the caress of his thumb press down before rubbing your arousal around your clit. Your hips thrust into his touch, gripping him by the shoulders, feeling your combined sweat drip from your sides and squeaking against the couch fabric.
“Oh my god, oh my god…” You can’t control it anymore. Seungkwan isn’t just pushing you past the edge, he's shoving you off.
“Like that, baby. Yes, what good girl cumming all over my cock,” he sweetly praises.
You reach him by the back of his head and propel him forward, colliding lips in a fervent liplock. Your moans drowned between one another, your climax coming in tenfold as he didn’t for a second stop, even well after you came. 
Yet, it isn’t enough. Seungkwan shifts and tugs your legs to border his torso. He lifts himself from the ground, his feet flat, shutting your legs tight, having the sweat of your thighs chafe against another unsettlingly. It then becomes completely overlooked with his hips, his cock starts pushing in and out of you, and folding himself into you with your closed legs as your pussy choked around his cock. Your walls pulsating around him, hot and lush, he death grips your body and watches your flesh recoil back against him deliciously. 
“Fucking shit,” he groans, plunging deeper as your cries moisten your cheeks and he brings you to a foreign level of ecstasy. 
His release from what you can tell is thick, warm, and inviting. Your legs find a mind of their own when they decide to lock the stranger in place, feel every ounce of pure pleasure shooting down inside you, coating you in your collaborative efforts, and residing peacefully deep, deep in your sore heat. 
Your lover collapses against you, eyes barely managing to open as he guides your bodies in a more comfortable position, his cum and cock still inside you. 
He’s softly pant, red on every inch of his face, residual from his raging orgasm and…fluster? “I…I don’t usually—“
“I don’t mind,” you gently reassure, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I wanted that to happen.”
“But what if—“
“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” you hint and fortunately he gets the clue, cuddling up to you closer.
“Good.” He nods, sounding off in relief.
You play with his ear, thumbing over the flaming red tip. “That was really good.”
The boy can’t help but grin, “I make good on my promises…and if you want, we can do it again.”
Your movement stops. “Oh.” Now you’re panicking. “I don’t think we should.”
His cock slips out of you with ease at your confession, both flaccid and disappointed as cum drips down the leather. “Why not? I thought you liked it.”
You begin sitting up, taking Seungkwan with you. “Of course I do! It’s just…my schedule doesn’t allow me to date—let alone see people outside of work—so, this wouldn’t work.” You offer him an apologetic pat on the back, feeling the muscles pulse against you before you regretfully pull away. “This is actually my last night in town, I was gonna leave soon for another shoot…but this was wonderful.”
You cup his cheek, flushed red and soft as can be, and kiss its fullness, letting your lips linger. “I’m so sorry.” For absolutely lying about everything about me when you gave me the most incredible orgasm I’ve had in centuries and to myself for cutting lose the hottest fucking man fiction and nonfiction you’ve ever fucking met.
“No, I get it,” he answers, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “You got things going for you. That’s ok. Just let me know when you’re in town, hmm? We can get together again, maybe?”
His sense of hope is admirable, something you saw in yourself a few years ago before the toppling towers of crippling debt fell on you. “I don’t think so, handsome.”
He sighs. “Alright. I get it.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “Don’t be.”
“You ended my vacation the best way you could’ve,” you egg on, “Couldn’t have ended my last night in town any better.”
“Yeah?” He chuckles, finally a light flickering back in his eyes. “Then maybe I can give you a parting gift.”
You raise an eyebrow, following his figure leaving your body and find his knees back in the ground and between your legs, “Seungkwan?”
“Can’t have you leave a mess.” His hand glides over your thighs, gaze flickering from you and your cunt oozing in cum, and his full lips kissing your inner thigh, tingling legs and garnering goosebumps down your shins.
“Are you actually—“
His tongue scraps on the skin just next to your lips, a mixture of your climax settling on his tongue, and you mewl at the sight. He kneads your flesh, his moans tickling your skin and admiring it how he knew how: worship.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers play against your sensitive folds, tension pressed on your clit. “You’re everything I could want…tasting you and pleasing you is the least I could do.”
His mouth wrapped around your lips before sucking, tongue parting what’s between, and sighing at the harmonious flavor dancing inside his mouth. Your worn walls contract around him, it feeds his desire as he pushes his face deeper inside you, and melts at your hands finding hair in soft strokes. 
Your voice aches for another release. The sensation of his jaw locking and nodding in your heat as his tongue fucks his cum back inside you drives you to up a wall. You squirm the faster he flicks his tongue, legs pulling back and forward, overwhelmed by Seungkwan’s mouth until he holds either one at either side, locking it around his neck.
His eyes ooze with determination and his face falls from color. The compromising position he put himself in is not one free consequence, but for the last single of the most greatest fuck of his life, losing a bit of oxygen was worth it, and his efforts are soon proven.
When you cum this time on his tongue, Seungkwan has never tasted anything sweeter, or rather bittersweet knowing this would be the last he’d get the chance to. He’s tasting you, savoring you, worshiping you. From the scent of your body, to the face you make, from what you feed him. If he knew how impossibly decadent you just were–only for you to leave–maybe he wouldn’t have done this. Or maybe he would.
Reluctantly, Seungkwan breaks apart from your lips to reconnect with another. One last shared, heated breath of this spontaneous exchange. One that he’d remember for a long time, and think about over long nights. Tenderly, your foreheads are the ones to kiss in a silent farewell, sad smiles on both your faces.
“Thank you…for reminding me what it feels like to live my own life.”
The pretty boy softly scoffs, kissing you once more, the tingle his lips lingering on yours. “Make your stories magical as you’ve made my night. Take care, Miss Producer.”
You quickly get dressed before the sexy stranger pulls you right back in his trace and you drag your friend and club attendee all the way back home, giving you the pleasure of finally resting in bed, body still aching from the sweltering sex hours ago. Sadly, without the warm body you enjoyed so much tonight. He made a lasting impression on you and you hope maybe one day on better circumstances you’ll meet again and the lie may someday be true. If you’re so lucky.
Eventually, summer takes its final laps and you’re entering the college semester and start working closely with the professor you’re aiding. The matter that your life is slowly being sucked away becomes more real the longer you look at his lesson plan and although you love writing, you know you’re about to dread the long evenings of paperwork to come. 
The first day of being a TA: get in the building by the car you have barely hanging on, meet with the professor, get in lectures and “TA”, skim through your new work for graduate classes, and sadly eat your late lunch/dinner alone because you know the ziplock of trail mix marinating in your backpack would not be enough. That’s the plan. Easy to follow.
Students start trickling into the classroom about twenty minutes before actual lecture time, some with nervous faces and excited expressions. Then a few minutes before the lecture starts, hoards of students are coming through, the classroom getting louder and louder as there is not enough space for white noise. You feel your heart beating increasingly–admittedly more nervous than anticipated–finding yourself focused on papers to avoid eyes with the other students until you can’t anymore.
With over 100 students, you start to feel like an imposter, a kid playing dress-up in her mom’s closet. Normally, you're not one to get nervous on the first day, but being a teacher’s assistant makes this situation different. You’re terrified of screwing up, whether it’s a big mistake or a small one. You tell yourself you need to get out of your head.
When roll call becomes necessary, the professor hands you the clipboard, forcing you to introduce yourself and make your presence known. Your hands tremble from natural nerves as you call out the names on the list, doing your best to pronounce each one clearly and coherently. Then your gaze lands on a name all too familiar, one that’s been on the tip of your tongue before. You can’t help but look up, eager to hear the voice that responds.
He stares at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, his lips curling up at the corners as his eyes gleam with intrigue—just like that night before.
You clear your throat, quickly averting your gaze, and resume roll call. You decide right then to ignore him for the rest of the day, the semester, and possibly the rest of your college career, if you can help it.
When you finish, you don’t dare look up again, telling yourself it’s because it’s the first day. You’ve done everything you needed to do for now.
As the lecture wraps up, it’s time to leave. The professor dismisses the class and exits the room, leaving you to pick up the pieces and answer any lingering questions from students. You just hope this particular student isn’t one of them.
“I had a question, Miss LN.”
You’re reminded that hope is just another word for wishful thinking. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. His voice is already etched into your memory, feeding the part of you that wants to respond, and you clench your thighs at the memory.
“Sure, what… um, what is it?” you respond, still not looking up.
“It’s about the syllabus. I was hoping we could discuss it in private?” His tone carries a hint of something familiar, something that doesn’t belong between a student and a teacher’s assistant.
“The syllabus is pretty self-explanatory,” you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral, though your pulse quickens.
“But I wanted to ask, just in case I misinterpreted anything.”
You make a show of straightening the papers on your desk, the crisp shuffle loud enough to make it clear you’re not amused. “You're a writing major. I’m sure you understand everything just fine.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” he says, a casual shrug masking the intent behind his words.
You sigh, knowing you won’t easily shake him off. Finally, you meet his gaze, catching the anticipation simmering in his eyes. With a resigned breath, you gather your belongings and stand. “Fine, follow me.”
As you lead him to a tucked-away corner, your footsteps echo in the quiet hallway. You glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes before stopping. He waits until you’re both out of sight before speaking, his voice lowering in that familiar way that sends a shiver down your spine. “So, how’s the indie film coming along, Miss Producer?”
Your arms cross instinctively, a barrier against the playful look on his face. His eyes sparkle with amusement, as if this is all a game to him. As if your college career and your career career didn’t hang on the very balance of this conversation and your history. “Very funny,” you reply, glaring at him. “Just two big liars caught in their own webs of lies. How serendipitous.”
He chuckles softly, the sound unnervingly familiar and instinctively arousing. “I know why I lied, but why did you?”
You plant a hand to your chest defensively. “Excuse me, I never anticipated seeing you ever again. It’s natural I’d lie—wait, why did you lie?”
“To get laid. Duh.” He answers as if it was the obvious thing in the world.
You roll your eyes, back knocking against the wall behind you. “Of course, fucking dumbass college boys.”
“You fell for it, so who’s the dumbass now?”
“Still you? Were you even drinking age?”
“Uh, yes that’s how I got in, otherwise they never would’ve let me in.”
Your palm runs over your face in embarrassment, cringing for long nights of thinking of your student of all fucking people. “I fucking knew you didn’t own the Gemstone.”
“Yet, you fucked me anyway.”
You rush towards him, your breath catching as you pin your fingers in front of your lips and hiss, “Will you shut your mouth?”
He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Why? You’re a TA, not a professor.It’s perfectly kosher.”
“It’s still highly frowned upon to fraternize in that manner, regardless of whether I’m a TA or a professor. I grade your fucking papers,” you shoot back, your eyes narrowing as the frustration rises in your chest.
He just shrugs, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Hey, if it gets me a good grade…”
“Or watch me fucking fail you,” you snap, stepping even closer, your voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever speak a word about that night again, got it?”
His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, geez.”
“Good.”
But he can’t resist one last jab, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “My lips—and pants—are sealed.”
“Seungkwan!” You hiss his name, barely keeping your voice down, your cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge.
He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, it’s been a while since you screamed my name.”
You grit your teeth and speak through harsh whispers, your patience wearing thin. 
“I will drop-kick you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”
He grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in just a fraction. “Like I said, I keep my promises. See you on Wednesday, Miss TA.”
With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, seething, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway. The air still buzzes with the tension between you, and you take a moment to collect yourself before heading back, wondering how you’re going to survive the rest of the semester with him in your class. If all your encounters are like this, you might as well quit now.
As expected, that initial confrontation isn’t the last you see of Seungkwan. While being your student, your forced interactions have become a bit of a spectacle among other students, especially considering Seungkwan stares back at you every lecture like you’re the only two people in the room. His routine of pestering during and after lectures has become something his peers have look forward to and you wonder if this kind of thing is normal for a teacher’s assistant.
It seems to have stirred up varying opinions, even among students from other classes—ones far removed from your department, who typically wouldn’t give a second thought to your work. The rumors have even reached the ears of other TAs, the ones you’ve built strong camaraderie with, turning casual conversations into whispered speculations. Some of those speculations have been harmless, fueled by curiosity and mild intrigue. But others? They’ve taken on more confrontational, and their tense gazes have you questioning just how far these rumors have gone.
But is it really a rumor if its all true?
"So, you and that Seungkwan kid, what's that about?"
You give a grand sigh, the weight of your colleague's curiosity pressing down on you as he peers at you, eyes alight with nosy mischief. His intent is clear—he's fishing for details about your relationship with one of your many students. But Seungkwan is different. Far different, even if you’d never admit that aloud knowing how your reputation would stand.
"Really not your business, bud," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, though it’s hard to miss the edge beneath your words.
Your colleague, Soobin, raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your attempt to shut him down. "Funny enough, I’m in the business of making things my business."
You scoff, fingers curling tightly around the handle of your freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of the cup your only source of comfort in this conversation. The rich aroma wafts up, offering a brief distraction. "He's my student, obviously, and he’s going to stay that way."
The words come out sharper than intended, the finality of your tone surprising even you. You take a long sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness anchor you. This conversation is tiptoeing too close to a line you’re not ready to cross.
Soobin raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. "Okay, okay. No need to be so defensive. Good thing you’re keeping it professional."
"I know that. Why are you mansplaining, Soobin? Don’t you have work to do?"
"Of course. Just wanted to point out—it’d be a real problem if you did."
"Uh, yeah. Obviously."
"Good."
"Good."
"I just wouldn’t want to lose anything over it."
You narrow your eyes at him. "What now?"
He hesitates before continuing, grinning sheepishly. "Okay, okay. There might be a bet going around about whether or not you and that kid sleep together again."
"What the—again? Again? What are you talking about?" You gape at him, incredulity painting your features as you struggle to process his words.
"Oh, come on, don’t play dumb," Soobin says with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows."
You blink, your mind racing to catch up. "…Everyone?"
"Everyone." He nods emphatically, the corners of his mouth twitching as he takes in your stunned reaction.
Your face falls, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration, your shoulders slumping. "Well, fuck." The words escape you like a dismayed exhale, your voice tinged with disbelief.
"And I bet that you wouldn’t. At least, not until the end of the semester."
"You bet  money on me?" You’re seething, anger now directed at him.
"Not money," Soobin says quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off any further criticism. He leans in slightly, his tone taking on a pleading edge. "But seriously, just don’t do it, okay? Be a good TA and a good friend. Don’t sleep with the boy. Just... don't."
You glare at him, incredulous. "I oughta do it just to make you lose."
"Please don’t! It wasn’t money I bet!"
You narrow your eyes further. "What did you bet, then?"
Soobin shifts uncomfortably. "Just... test answers."
"Soobin."
"Please! Just help me win this. I’m begging you!" Soobin’s voice is desperate, his eyes wide and pleading.
“You could jeopardize your scholarships with this kind of bet.”
“So don’t let me lose this one!” His frustration is palpable, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.
“I could just hit you,” you threaten, though the words come out more resigned than menacing.
“But I’m so lovely. Don’t you think?” Soobin’s attempt at levity falls flat, his forced grin barely concealing his anxiety.
“Soobin, this is seriously messed up.”
He continues, undeterred, “The money I could win could buy me a new apartment to rent out. I’d finally be able to move off-campus.”
“This is so fucked up,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I know, I’m literally on my knees here, dude,” Soobin says, lowering himself as if pleading for mercy.
You run a hand through your hair, trying to stave off the growing irritation. “Fine, damn it. Okay. I hope you’ve fucking learned your lesson and won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”
You meet his gaze head-on, your patience visibly thinning. "Are we done here?"
He nods vigorously, a small, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course."
As Soobin walks away, you watch him go, the remnants of the conversation hanging in the air like the fading scent of coffee. You take another sip of your drink, this time more deliberately, letting the warmth seep into you. You try to channel your remaining energy into something productive, determined to salvage what’s left of your day. The knowledge of the bet and the weight of your friend’s reputation hanging in the balance makes every decision weigh heavy on your shoulders.
Despite the sprawling campus and the vast number of students, gossip is as vibrant and pervasive as ever. Seungkwan doesn’t help matters, especially with the frequent discussions you’re having about his late assignments. No matter how stern and resolute your tone becomes, he meets you with a gaze that’s both wistful and enigmatic. His eyes, filled with a mix of wonder and intrigue, follow your every movement. They start by meeting yours directly, then drift downward, lingering on your face, then lower, then lower, and finally–
"Are you paying attention, Seungkwan? Or am I going to have to talk to Professor Yoon about you finally dropping the class?"
Seungkwan leans against the auditorium chairs, averting his attention to the sharp expression on your face, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "No, nothing of the sort, Miss TA. Please, continue to lecture me about what an awful student I am."
Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms, forward on your desk, tapping your foot with growing impatience as you shuffle through to gather your belongings. "I will—and starting where your assignments have been showing up several days late. I can’t keep making exceptions for you."
"Why not? You’re so good at making me feel special," he teases, head tilted, his voice dripping with a sultry sarcasm.
Your patience snaps as you sharply tap the stack of aligned papers on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Stop it, will you? Your grade is sinking fast, and at this rate, you’ll be repeating the class."
He shrugs, that maddening grin still in place. "Would that really be so bad? You’d get a whole new semester with me."
You scoff, standing upright, pacing a few steps as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. "Are you seriously going to waste your tuition money just to fail? At least pretend to make an effort. Chatgpt exists for students like you I’m assuming."
He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If only someone wasn’t so distracting, maybe I could. You’d understand, Miss TA."
You stop mid-step, spinning to face him, your voice sharp. "Enough. And stop calling me that—it’s like you get off on it."
"Oh, I do." The playful tone in his voice is laced with something else now, something heavier.
Your jaw clenches, heat rising to your face, thighs sealed against one another.. "Your assignments. On time. By the end of this week, or I’ll recommend to Professor Yoon that you drop the class."
"Fine," he mutters, his tone nonchalant, the smirk still lingering lazily on his lips as he halfheartedly stuffs his books into his bag. His movements are careless, and a few sheets of notebook paper slip out, drifting lazily to the floor without him even noticing.
You sigh, bending down to pick them up. As you straighten, your eyes unintentionally flick over the handwritten lines—only for something to catch your attention. You freeze, blinking at the words on the page. "What the...?"
Seungkwan’s demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes widen, and he lunges forward, panic flashing across his face. "Don’t read that!" His voice is more urgent, almost desperate.
But you dodge his grasp, holding the paper just out of reach, your brow furrowing. "What is this? And why is it actually... interesting?"
"Give it back," he says, his tone softer, pleading now. 
"Why don’t you put this much effort into your assignments?" you ask, glancing up at him, your curiosity overtaking your frustration.
Before you can react, Seungkwan steps closer, his movements more deliberate this time. He snatches the paper from your hands, but his proximity catches you off guard. He’s standing close—too close—backing you into the edge of your desk. His face is flushed, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and you can see the embarrassment in his narrowed eyes, the tips of his ears burning red.
Your heart stutters in your chest, your breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. The air feels thick, charged with something you know too fucking well. For a moment, neither of you moves, your eyes locked like you’re frozen. You’re acutely aware of every small detail—the way his fingers clutch the paper tightly, how his chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth radiating from him as he towers just slightly over you.
Suddenly, he stumbles, his foot catching on the leg of the desk, and you gasp as his weight nearly knocks you backward. Your hands shoot out, gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Your glasses slip down your nose as you blink up at him, your pulse quickening, his face inches from yours.
"Sorry," Seungkwan mutters, quickly pulling away, flustered as he hurriedly gathers the fallen papers, stuffing them into his bag. "I’ll do the assignments. Just... don’t fail me. And don’t repeat whatever you think you read."
Without waiting for your reply, he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving, the ghost of his presence lingering in the suddenly too-quiet space.
You try to steady your breath, ignoring how ragged it had become, and the unsettling way your blood pulsed—not just through your heart, but in places you'd rather not acknowledge. You forcefully push those thoughts aside, desperate for any distraction. Tonight, that distraction would be class assignments.
With an iced coffee marinating at the corner of your office desk, the papers in front of you blur as his face flashes through your head. You can’t help but recall the way his lips looked—full and slightly parted, the way his eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and something else entirely. And the warmth of him—how heavy and undeniably right he felt as he leaned over you, his presence lingering even after he was gone.
You shake your head, determined to refocus on grading, gripping the red pen a little tighter. But your mind drifts again, this time to the words you’d glimpsed on that crumpled page. The writing had a familiarity to it, something deeply personal that tugged at the corners of your mind. Reminding you of how much you remembered that night. Specifically how good that night felt.
‘Her whispers, haunting, breath heavy. She gazes at me with eyes full of want, strands of hair falling over her forehead, tantalizing and wild. Her cheek is warm beneath my hand as I pull her closer, our lips meeting, tasting the sweetness of something long desired but never claimed. For this night, she is mine—even if it's only for this night alone.’
Your cheeks flush as the memory hits, the realization settling in with a mix of shock and something you can't quite name. The words were unmistakable—vivid, intimate, dripping with a desire that mirrored the tension between you two. You recognized the inspiration behind them immediately.
He’s writing his own fanfiction. And it’s about you.
Suddenly, you’re not so much thinking about the bet Soonbin warned you about.
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punkshort · 1 year ago
Text
i'll be home for christmas | part two
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)
WC: 12K
A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.
Series Masterlist
Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.
That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.
Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.
He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.
It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.
"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.
"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.
"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.
"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.
"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.
"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.
"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.
"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.
"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.
"Go brush your teeth," he said.
"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."
She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.
"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.
"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."
Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.
"Christ," he muttered.
"What's the big deal?"
Joel sat up and opened his eyes.
"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.
"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.
"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."
"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.
Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.
"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"
Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.
"I know that look," he said, still grinning.
"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."
"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.
"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.
"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.
"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."
"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."
"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.
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You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.
Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place
You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.
Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.
With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.
You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.
"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.
"Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.
"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.
"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.
"What?" you asked loudly.
"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?
"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.
"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.
"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.
"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.
"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.
"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.
"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"
"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.
"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.
"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.
"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.
"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.
"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.
"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.
"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.
"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.
"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"
"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.
"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.
Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.
Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?
You grinned as you typed out a response.
You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)
Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.
You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off
You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.
Joel Miller: What are you doing later?
Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.
You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...
Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.
You: oh? lol
Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.
You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.
You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?
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Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.
"Hi," you said breathlessly.
"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.
"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.
You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.
"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.
"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."
"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.
He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.
Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.
"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."
"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.
"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.
He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.
"Everythin' okay?"
You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.
"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"
He smirked and nodded.
"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.
"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.
He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.
"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.
You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.
"You're not embarrassed?"
"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."
You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.
"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."
You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.
"What's the story with the nickname?"
You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.
"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.
"Well, now you gotta tell me."
"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.
"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.
"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.
"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."
"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.
"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"
"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.
"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."
Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.
"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.
"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.
"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"
"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.
"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."
"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.
He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.
"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.
"Brighten my day," he clarified.
You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.
"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"
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You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.
"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.
"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.
"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.
"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.
"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.
"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.
"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."
His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.
"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."
He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.
"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.
"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.
"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.
"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.
As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.
"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.
"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.
He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.
"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.
"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.
"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."
That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.
"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."
Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.
"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."
Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.
"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."
"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.
"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.
"No, you don't have to-"
"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.
He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.
"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."
Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.
"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."
You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.
"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."
He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.
"Joel-"
"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."
"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.
He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.
"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."
"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.
"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.
He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.
Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.
"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.
Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.
He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.
He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.
You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.
"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.
"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.
"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."
He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.
You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.
He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.
He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.
You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.
He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.
"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"
"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.
"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.
"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.
"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.
"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."
"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.
"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"
You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.
"Sarah, this is-"
"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.
"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.
She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.
"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.
"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.
"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.
You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.
"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.
"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."
You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.
"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.
"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.
"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.
"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."
"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"
"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"
"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.
"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."
"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.
"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.
"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."
You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.
"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."
Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.
"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.
"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."
"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."
You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.
"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.
"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.
Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.
"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.
"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.
"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.
Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.
When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.
Fuck, this was going to be so hard.
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"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.
"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.
"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"
Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.
"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.
"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.
"Then what's the problem?"
Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.
"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.
"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.
"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."
"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.
If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.
Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.
"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"
Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.
"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.
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You: good morning :)
Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.
You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing
Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?
You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.
You: I was thinking about you...
Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?
You: VERY ;)
His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.
Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?
You smirked and bit down on your lip.
You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now
"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.
Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?
The answer came back almost immediately.
You: nothing
He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.
Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.
You: i'm sorry ;)
You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?
Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.
Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?
He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.
Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.
He sent his second text right as your reply came through.
You: I would love to!
He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.
Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.
Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.
"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.
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"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.
"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.
"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.
"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.
"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.
Sydney: OMG!!!!!!
You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.
"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.
"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."
"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.
"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"
"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"
"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."
"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"
"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.
"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"
You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.
"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.
"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.
"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.
"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.
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Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.
"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.
He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.
"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.
"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."
He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.
"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.
Fuck the camera, let them see.
You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.
"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.
He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.
On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.
As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?
Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.
"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.
You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.
Love? Oh, no.
"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"
"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.
"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."
"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.
"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.
"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"
"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."
You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.
When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.
Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.
The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.
The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.
When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.
He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.
"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.
"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."
"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.
"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.
"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."
"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"
"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.
"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.
"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.
"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.
"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."
"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."
"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"
"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.
"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.
After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.
He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.
He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.
He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.
Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.
"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.
"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.
"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the cafés nearby.
"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
Oh.
"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.
You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.
At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.
Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.
"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.
"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.
"What d'you want, then?"
You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.
"I want you."
His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.
"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.
He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.
You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.
You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.
"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.
He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?
"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.
"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.
"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.
His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.
"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.
"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.
He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.
You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.
Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.
"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.
"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.
You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.
"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.
"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"
"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.
"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."
His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.
"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."
He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.
You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.
He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.
He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.
He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.
He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.
"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.
"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.
He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.
Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.
"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.
"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.
You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.
You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.
He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.
"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."
You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.
"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.
"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.
You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.
He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.
"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.
"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.
"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.
"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.
"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.
"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.
He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.
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georgiapeach30513 · 3 months ago
Text
Weight of My Sins, Part 1
Summary: You thought life on the ranch was over. Couldn't bear the sight of Kayce anymore, so you fled all the way to Texas. You found a new relationship. You lived. You got a degree. But you missed Montana more than anything, but he wasn't leaving Texas. Now you're back on the ranch, and you and Kayce both lived your life. But that draw to him is still there, even if you're terrified to let those walls back down again. No matter how much you crave him.
Pairings: Kayce Dutton X Reader
Rating: mature
Warnings:  explicit language, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 5.1K
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @saradika-graphics
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“Stop fidgeting,” Rip’s gruff voice bellows in the truck, and you press your hands under your legs.  Continuing to stare out your window.  The closer you get to the ranch the worse the feeling in the pit of your stomach gets.  This has got to be a bad idea, and nothing good can come of it.  You need a job just as much as you need a place to stay.  And Rip did you a solid in getting John to allow that for you.  Under different circumstances this would be the perfect solution to your problem.  
“You’re going to stay in the bunkhouse, so I’ll have to go over some ground rules with the wranglers,” you roll your eyes as you turn to look at him.  Ever the protective big brother role.  He isn’t your biological big brother.  Just a man that felt sorry for you as a kid, and helped out when he could.  You were his pet project.  And one of the few people he was kinda nice to.  Some things never change. 
“I don’t want you fucking around with them.  And believe me, they’re a bunch of lonely, horny cowboys.” 
“Aww, but you’re not interested in me.  Are you still lonely and horny?” He gives you an eat shit grin, shaking his head.  You are not the least bit worried about the wranglers.  They are the least of your worries.  “What if this doesn’t work out?” 
“Grow a pair of balls and make it work,” he shrugs as the ranch comes into view.  Immediately your fingers start fidgeting under your thighs.  So many memories remained here.  Up until the point that you left for veterinary school.  Anything to help out the ranch.  That’s Rip’s philosophy, even if he won’t say it.  Anything.
“Quit fidgeting!” He growls at you.
“I’m not!” You don’t want to admit that being here is turning your stomach inside out.  Don’t want to admit what just seeing the last name Dutton does to you.  Some things just are better left unexplored.  Especially now that you’re going into his territory.  His home.  
Rip puts the truck into park, and you inhale slowly.  Letting the fresh air fill your lungs before you slowly exhale.  Popping your neck for good measure before you sling the door open, and jump out.  Time seems to stand still here.  Very little has changed, except your age.  “Come on,” your adopted brother says, and you follow along with his long strides.  
Slinging the door open, Rip drops your meager duffle bag on the floor, and every man in there turns to glare at you.  Lloyd gives you a slight dip of his chin, “Welcome back, Bronc,” you nod to him.  The others you don’t truly recognize.  
“This here is like a little sister to me.  You treat her with fucking respect, and you stay out of her damn pants,” clearing their throats they return to their card game, leaving you puffing out a nervous breath before giving Rip a head nod.  “Yep. That’s it,” he says, turning on his heels, and leaving you in this den of bears.  
“Which bunk is available?” 
“One of those back ones,” Lloyd points in the direction without removing his eyes from his hand.  You didn’t expect a grand welcome, but this is pathetic.  Your eyes roam around each of the bunks.  Examining the spaces, looking for anything familiar. 
“He’s not here,” Lloyd answers, finally looking at you. 
“Who?” the old man’s eyebrows lift, as he nods at you sarcastically.  Judging asshole.  You weren’t looking for anyone.  You were trying to figure out how you fit in with these men.  Reaching into your bag, you stuff a few peppermints into your pocket.  You sling your duffle bag onto the bunk before turning to go towards the door, “I’m going out.” 
“Uh huh,” Lloyd answers knowingly.  You didn’t care what the man thought of you.  You need to get out of this room.  It’s stifling being in this bunkhouse.  Hell, it’s stifling being here.  With all these memories.  But ones that you love so much.  You miss it. 
Sighing at your contradictory thoughts, you kick gravel as you walk to the barn.  Getting away from humans, and joining animals.  They were better than humans.  They didn’t offer any words of wisdom, or judgement.  They are just there.  Lifting up a peppermint to one of them, he eats the treat off your hand, and you lean your head against his nose petting him.  
“First night here, and you’re already spoiling my horse, Bronc,” you didn’t have to see him to know that voice.  The one voice that makes you weak in the knees, and sick to your stomach all at the same time.  The one voice that has stuck to you like a bad habit, and you seek comfort in it with every sylablle. 
“Dutton,” you respond before starting to walk away.  He steps in front of you, and you turn to walk the other direction, but he jumps in front of you again.  His mouth turns up into that irresistible smile, and ‘it just makes you angry, and also makes you want to touch him.  The conflicting emotions just don’t stop.
“Why are you feeding my horse treats?” 
“Why are you hiding in the dark?” He shrugs.  A cute smile creeps onto his face, and you bashfully look away as heat flares your cheeks, “Did you follow me out here?” 
“No, I didn’t know you were going to be here.  Why are you here?” 
Somehow him not knowing you are going to be living here floods you with relief.  “This baby wanted a little treat, and I doubt you were giving him anything.” 
“You’ve not changed,” smiling, you let your eyes coast down his body, freezing at an ugly ring on his finger, and your blood turns cold.  Why is he even here giving you any ounce of hope?  He notices where your sight is, and hides his hand, but it’s too late.  Everything from that last night boils in your chest.  
“But you’ve changed,” you try to smile, and it just hurts.  You didn’t expect Kayce to not have a life and live it, but moving on with a wife is not what you expected.  
“It’s complicated,” is the only thing he says as he stuffs his hands in his pocket. 
“It always is with you, Dutton,” you respond, starting to walk away.  This time he doesn’t follow.  You can almost see him standing there with his pretty puppy eyes.  
“We’re separated,” you stop in your tracks, but don’t turn around.  Saying something like that is almost a death sentence.  Separated did not mean they weren’t going to get back together.  It could mean they needed space.  And you weren’t going to be the space he filled.  You sigh, turning to look at him.  
“Mmm, I don’t know if that’s good enough, Kayce,” his smile doesn’t falter.  You used his first name.  Using that name is so much warmer than using Dutton.  When you bring out the last name, he knows you’re slightly annoyed.  
Walking up to you, his calloused fingers brush over your cheeks, and he pulls you in for a familiar embrace.  Caressing your back as he brings you too close.  Like your bodies were made to meld together.  
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you respond, pushing out of his hold and you turn to give the horse a kiss.  
Your body is on fire.  Trembling as you take a step back from him.  His scent of sunshine and leather blinds you.  The want for him is almost too strong.  “What do you want?” 
He grunts, “You,” but you shake your head no.  Everything is always so damn complicated with him.  “We are separated.” 
“And yet, you’re still married.” 
“Do you think that if I was happily married I’d be out here after midnight?  I’ve moved back to the ranch, and we rarely talk, unless it has to do with,” his voice goes softer, and your eyes slowly close, “My son,” the twisting of that knife hurts so much worse than hearing he’s married.  “I never meant to hurt you.” 
“Yeah.  And I can imagine how it is with you.  You come here to be separated, and somehow you end up feeling sorry for yourself, and lonely, and then you're driving out wherever, and right back into her arms to play house.  Is that how it goes?” 
“Not exactly.” 
“Why is it different now?” There’s no answer that he could give you that would make you feel better.  You’re left feeling like a junkie, and your drug of choice is Kayce John Dutton.  Always was.  Probably always will be.  
“Because of you.” 
“Oh, no.  I just got here, and you don’t get to come here with your pretty words when I’m trying to do a damn job.  You and your cute ass need to keep things professional.  I don’t need this Kayce.  It’s my first night.” 
“So you don’t hate me?” You could never truly hate Kayce.  You could have your heart broken by him.  Again.  But you’ve never hated him. 
“No, but I’m also not fucking you,” he chuckles as you walk backwards, and out of the barn. 
“Again!” He yells, too loud, and you hope that no one hears the two of you out here alone.  You didn’t need any rumors going around about how you were fucking him in the barn on the first night.  
“It was a mistake,” you wink at him.  Lying in this instance is a way to protect you.  There’s nothing that you regret with Kayce.  Not on your end.  
“And why was it a mistake?” 
“Premature ejaculation,” he looks down at his feet, as he toes the ground, “Due to the fact that neither of us knew what we were doing.  But it sure did get us into a lot of trouble, huh?  Have a good evening, Dutton.” 
“That wasn’t nice,” he peeks up at you, smiling anyways.  
“Nice?  Was it nice that I saw you with some girl in our spot?  You sure were curled up, and enjoying her with your mouth.  Was that nice?” 
“Wait…” you have to rip the bandaid, and let him know that you knew what he was doing.  You should have confronted him then.  Maybe you could have truly moved on and healed.  Maybe you wouldn’t have longed for Montana, and those pretty brown eyes still. 
You shake your head, because you need space from him.  He is crowding your thoughts, and your vagina.  If you didn’t get away, you’d be rolling around in the hay with him.  “I get we were teenagers.  Too young to be fucking.  And too stupid to remain faithful.  
“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
“Like we have a choice,” he stands there smiling.  Not fully defeated by your words.  You weren’t bending to his words and charm, but you also weren’t refusing to talk to him.  “Don’t wear the ring.” 
“Whatever you say, Bronc,” you wouldn’t forgive him if he kept showing up with that ugly thing.  It pains you to know that he went off and married someone and had a child with someone that wasn’t you, and you couldn’t blame him either.  He’d moved on, and in so many ways you haven’t.  
You hope you don’t regret this decision to be here.  Hope that Kayce doesn’t infect your mind, and heart in the way he’s always done.  Knowing that he’s married, even if separated, helps.  And he has a kid.  Time didn’t change your feelings because you still ache for him.  
Separated.  
What did that even mean?  How did he define that word?
How long has he been separated?  Were his sweet words anything more than that?  Would he return to his wife?  He has a kid with her, so it’s not like he can just walk away easily.  Unless he already has.  But how can you be sure that this is it?  It’s the end and he’s never going to be with her again?  And if he was sure, why not going through a divorce? 
No.  You’re here to do a job, and doing a job is what you’re going to do.  You want to be treated just like everyone else on this damn ranch.  You weren’t going to become a love sick puppy for him.  You’re going to enjoy the Montana air.  The view here.  And finally doing something with your life.  And for you.
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“Bronc and I are going to take the back,” Kayce smiles at Rip, and the older man’s eyes narrow at him.  
“Why?” he asks, giving you a quick look as you saddle up a horse, ignoring the conversation.  You’ll go where you’re told.  “Why are you bringing up the rear, and why is she even coming out with us?” 
“Because if something happens, we have a licensed vet right with us.  She’s bringing up the rear because she’s never gone out with us before, and this will give her a chance to learn.” 
Rip places his hands on his hips, gazing out to the sunrise, sighing, “I’m still not sure why you’re with her.  Put Jimmy in the rear with her, and — why the hell are you shaking your head at me?” 
“She doesn’t know Jimmy.” 
“And yet she sleeps in the bunkhouse with him,” Kayce clears his throat, and only because the last place that he wants you to be is with Jimmy. “What the fuck is your problem?” 
“Bronc and I are taking the rear.  Jimmy’s got flank.  Is the bunkhouse really the best place for her to be?” 
“Hell, Kayce, she’s not going to learn anything by getting special treatment,” you aren’t getting special treatment from him.  He just wants to make sure you stay comfortable, and be with him.  He needs more time to talk to you.  “Fine,” Rip growls, getting on his horse.  “She’s your responsibility then.” 
“I’ll try to keep her out of trouble.” 
Rip turns his horse around and heads towards the front, “Bronc, you're with Kayce in the back,” you sigh, climbing onto the horse.  Kayce gives you a wink as he climbs on his own, and waits for you. 
“You’re not subtle, you know?” He shrugs, and you can’t help but take a peek at his hand.  The ring thankfully is gone.  He kept his word.  And while it does ease your stomach, there’s still a part of you that knows that still isn't enough.  It’s easy to not wear a ring in private.  It’s easy to pretend it doesn’t mean a thing, but it does.  It should. 
“Are you planning on making sure we’re always together?” He shrugs again.  He’s the one that wanted you in the rear with him, and now he’s not talking.  But maybe you’re just not asking the right questions.  “So how have you been?” 
“Doesn’t matter.  I’m better now,” you scoff, keeping your eyes on the cattle.  “What?  Is my response not satisfactory?  Remember you left Montana.” 
“And you had your hands in some other girl's pants.” 
He winces, sucking air through his teeth, “Are you ever going to let me explain, so I can maybe get your forgiveness?  I told you I was stupid?” 
“Are you ever going to do it again?” 
“Are you ever going to go on a date with me?” 
“Not anytime soon,” you click your tongue, and tap your heels on the horse.  Speeding up a bit more, but he keeps his pace with you.  “Things can’t go back to how they were,” you wonder if he thought any relationship can return to how they were before, or if you’re just the lucky one.  Did he still carry a torch for you, like you did him?  
“So no more sneaking off into my room, doing things we were too young to be doing?” Him and his stupid little smile get you every time.  Not to mention the passion you always felt with Kayce.  You were never going through the motions, you loved every moment with him.  Even your fights that quickly were resolved, and you went on loving each other anyways, and loving harder.  
“Why did you leave?” His voice darkens, and he turns his face away from you.  
“I needed air,” he nods, understanding.  You needed to get away from him.  “Why did you do it?” 
“Kiss someone that wasn’t my girlfriend?” 
“You weren’t just kissing.” 
“Yeah, that’s all we did,” you shake your head no.  That is not what she implied happened.  And just kissing is enough anyways.  “It was stupid.  And I quickly realized that she wasn’t you, and did I say that I was stupid?” 
“You did,” you look over towards him, smiling, “But you can keep saying it,” a comfortable silence settles between the two of you, and you breathe in the fresh mountain air.  Realizing all the reasons that you missed Montana, but also the Yellowstone.  Things are peaceful in their way, of course, but there’s just this home feeling here.  
“Did you miss it?” 
“Do you mean did I miss you?” You turn to peek towards Kayce, and he chuckles, shaking his head.  
“I asked if you missed it as in this?” 
“Every day,” you enjoyed school, and you would do it all over again for the experience, and to say you have a skill.  You did miss some of the people, and now that you’re here you miss some of the people in Texas.  One of the people. 
“What did — did you — I mean,” he clears his throat.  Looking up to the clear blue sky, before back over towards you.  You already know exactly what he’s struggling to ask, and it’s due to the fact he doesn’t really want to know.  “How was Texas?” 
“You want to ask me the real question?” sometimes it’s best to just know the truth, and lay it all out there.  Even if you’re scared to know the answer.  You can learn ways to cope or just get over it. 
Kayce sniffs deeply, and tilts his head to the side in thought, “Did you meet anyone there?” Not the right question.  He’s such a coward. 
“Cowboy up, Kayce.  You can do better than that if you really want to know.  Just ask me like a man.” 
“Are you dating anyone?” 
“No.” 
“Did you?” 
“Was that so hard?” Surprisingly he nods his head.  He can respond but just asking was like pulling teeth, and it kinda gave you a bit of a confidence boost.  “I did.  Was.  I was dating someone.  It was pretty serious, but he wanted to stay in Texas, and I wanted to be back here.  We split amicably, and I packed up my stuff, moved out, and now I’m back here.” 
“What was he like?” His jaw flexes when he asks.  He doesn’t truly want to know what he is like, but you’re going to tell him anyway.  Kayce always had a possessive streak.  It never reached toxic heights, thankfully. 
“He’s a mechanic.  Older than me.  He’s a good guy.  He didn’t have much growing up, but he made something of himself, despite his setbacks,” Kayce just nods his head, refusing to look at you.  You like seeing him squirm a bit.  Not that you’re into comparing, but you didn’t have a child with him, nor were you married.  “I think you’d like him.” 
“Not likely.”  
“He played football.” 
“Definitely wouldn’t like him then.  Let me guess, he’s just a regular ole pretty boy that treated you okay, but it wasn’t great?  Maybe borderline annoyed you?” 
“He’s a good guy.  We were getting to a more steady part of our relationship.  It wasn’t too exciting.  And we never fought,” Kayce snorts, causing you to look towards him.  “We didn’t.” 
“Sounds like there was no passion.” 
“You mean it doesn’t sound like us?” 
“We’re adults now, Bronc.  We’re not going to act like two lovestruck teenagers anymore.  We were figuring ourselves out.  We didn’t know the meaning of compromising.  Now we’re grown,” no, you weren’t teenagers anymore.  He’d definitely grown.  At times you and Kayce just didn’t want to see eye to eye.  There was absolutely no compromising in your relationship.  So him admitting that makes you feel happy.  You left something steady, albeit boring at times, because the two of you couldn’t compromise on where to live.  He wasn’t leaving Texas, and you wanted to be in Montana.  
“So just how boring was this guy?” 
“Tell me about your son,” you counter.  Kayce smirks while looking up ahead to the herd.  You aren’t supposed to go out with them often, but you wanted to see the land again.  “How old?” 
“He’s eight.” 
“You didn’t waste any time did you?” 
“He wasn’t planned, and I was distraught.  I don’t regret him though.  He’s perfect.  Reminds me of myself.” 
“Did you love her?” He goes silent.  His puppy dog eyes scan over everything as he contemplates.  “I think I loved him,” Kayce turns to look at you, his smile now returning.  “What?” 
“Did you ever tell him?” 
“Yes.” 
“So did you lie?” It’s an odd thing to say, really.  It shouldn’t be hard for you to admit that yes you loved him or no you didn’t.  It felt right at the time but hindsight is always twenty twenty.  Now, you’re unsure just how you felt about him, “So what you mean is you didn’t love him like you loved me?” 
“No,” definitely not what you meant.  Right?  All those years weren’t a lie.  You had fun.  You enjoyed yourself.  You loved, and felt loved, and — so easily left it for here.  And Kayce.  “I didn’t say that.” 
“You didn’t have to,” he looks towards you, slowing his horse down, but your mind is racing too much to try and look at him.  You need space again, and yet have to stay.  You want to run, but towards him or away from him?  You knew that the forever there complicated feelings towards Kayce would return the moment you saw him, but you weren’t prepared for this.  And if you left again, those feelings would remain.  Eventually you’ll have to explore those feelings.    
Questioning your relationship was not something you had planned.  You loved him, but could live without him.  It’s why you chose to come here.  Back home.  And to him.  So why is it so hard to admit that out loud, and to Kayce.  Why does this man crowd your brain space, and make you question every decision you’ve ever made. 
The only reason you left Montana was to get space from him.  You needed to breathe and make sense out of everything going on.  And to find yourself without him in it.  Without anyone in your life.  To know you could do it.  Kayce was supposed to give you time to figure this out.  You could have a life out of this bubble.  
This beautiful, amazing bubble. 
“Why did you come back?” 
“This is the place that has always felt like home.” 
“Because it’s where I’m at,” he sure is cocky.  Brazenly full of himself.  Part of this being home is him.  But that doesn’t mean that you are referring to him as home.  It means… “You can deny it all you want, but…” 
Kayce clicks his tongue, and starts a faster gallop, leaving you contemplating what he said.  It’s what he does.  He weasels into your brain, and makes you think and question things.  And then he finds himself in your pants, and then in your heart.  But that isn’t the concerning thing, the concerning part is not fully knowing if he is correct.  And do you want him there?  
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“You know what I always liked about that girl?” Kayce looks up at his dad, confusion laced in his eyes.  “She never tried to change you.” 
“Who?” 
“Oh, are you still denying that you had a thing with Rip’s little orphan project?” Instead of responding, his son takes another bite of food.  The two of you weren’t exactly quiet about your feelings for one another, but you also didn’t parade it around.  “I see.  So she comes back to town, being hired on as a personal vet or wrangler, I can’t keep up.  And the first thing she does is go on the trail with you, and rides right beside you?  Okay.” 
John eats a piece of meat, smiling at his son who still says nothing.  “You speak more when she’s around.” 
“Are we going to talk about Bronc this whole dinner?” 
“Still got that same nickname for her.  How do you feel about her sharing a bunkhouse with a bunch of men?” Kayce despises it.  Hates even thinking about someone getting too close to you.  He’d offer for you to stay with him, but you’d immediately jump to conclusions.  You could sleep where you wanted to, but he did have an extra room.  “I see.  Must make you sick to think about all those cowboys around fresh meat. We know Bronc can take care of herself.  But she did just get out of a relationship because he didn’t want to take things to the next step.” 
“He didn’t want to move to Montana.” 
“Where she wanted to get married, and settle down with him,” John shrugs as he wipes his mouth with his napkin.  “She’s quite vulnerable.  Don’t push her, but don’t have her too far away from you,” he nods as he pushes his chair back from the table.  “You should offer her some of the food Gator made.  I’m sure it’s better than whatever microwave food she’s got there.” 
There is a lot of freedom being here.  However, the food sucks.  You’ll have to remedy that soon.  Sitting out on the porch, you kick up your feet, and inhale deeply.  Letting the mountains absorb your problems.  Hope that they will, so you have some clarity.  
Even with everyone in the bunkhouse carrying on and playing a game of poker, you feel relaxed.  Today felt good.  You didn’t exactly know what your job here would entail; maybe you’d need to travel to some other ranches and tend to their animals.  But tonight, it’s just you.  And the annoying music coming from somewhere.
You won’t let it bother you.  
You don’t care if it’s annoying ‘country’ music.  What even is that shit?  Nope.  It won’t bother you.  You’ll just sit and eat your microwave Mac and cheese, and ignore whatever is going on over there.  This is your bubble.  Your safe space.  You are calm and collected.  Not annoyed at all.
That music is just very obnoxious, and you swear it’s getting louder.  You could ask them to be quiet.  You don’t even know whose cabin it is.  Someone that works here, obviously.  But it’s like they're purposefully trying to get under your skin.  
You sigh as you stand up stretching.  Going inside the bunkhouse would involve you trying to ignore the wranglers.  While not impossible, you’re now more curious as to who is being obnoxious.  It won’t hurt to go check it out.  
Making sure to throw your garbage away, you start to head towards the door, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Lloyd calls after you, but you don’t listen.  Don’t even turn around.  You have some exploring to do.  
You have to know.  Need to know who it is.  You don’t have far to walk judging by the sound.  It’s close.  Far enough away from the bunkhouse for some privacy.  There’s nobody here that would hurt you.  There could be other things that could be dangerous. 
“What are you doing out alone?!” You spin around, and hit him due to your veins coursing with  adrenaline.  “Ow, you still got an arm on you,” Kayce winces, rubbing his arm. 
“Why the fuck are you sneaking up on me in the middle of the night?” Whisper screaming as you hit him again.  “What is wrong with you, and what is the deal with this shitty music?” 
“So the music worked?” You stare at him dumbfounded, trying to figure out what he’s meaning.  “It got you over here, didn’t it?” 
“You ass, Kayce Dutton.  I was minding my business, eating dinner, and looking at the stars.” 
“Your dinner wasn’t good enough,” you have to look away when he licks his lips.  Causing every fiber in your body to heat up.  Being with him alone in the dark is a sure fire way to get you in trouble.  You’re resisting the urge.  You could fall for Kayce again, just not tonight. 
“Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?” 
“I brought a plate from the lodge,” bare minimum.  Don’t fall for this.  This is barely anything.  You want him to work if he wants to get you back.  And you know you shouldn’t rush into anything serious.  With Kayce it will be serious.  “I can heat it up.  We can dance, talk, watch a movie, sit out here?” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. 
“We’re not dancing to this shit.” 
“Of course not.” 
“And I don’t think dancing is something we should do,” he nods his head yes, agreeing to that.  “We can sit out and stare at the stars, and I’m going back to the bunkhouse.” 
“I have an extra bed.” 
“But I won’t stay in it.”
“Why’s that?” Kayce steps too close to you, invading your bubble, and it’s hard to breathe.  Be strong.  Do not fall for this.  If you want to be with Kayce the wait will be worth it.  You want to be able to give you and him the best possible chance.  Start from the beginning. 
“Because I am weak when it comes to you, and I don’t want to be.  So my happy little ass will walk right back to that bunkhouse, and I’m going to sleep there.  And tomorrow is a new day, and you’re going to stop flirting so hard.” 
“I can try and do that,” his hand brushes away the baby hairs off your forehead, and you fight not to lean into him.  Glancing down to his left hand, you count this small moment as a win.  
“Thank you,” you whisper to him before spinning around, and walking towards the cabin. 
“Why?” 
“If I have to tell you it doesn’t have the same gravity,” he smiles serenely before jumping in front of you to open the door.  He’s had that ugly ring off twice now.  It’s a small thing that should not mean much, and yet it does.  You just hope that he keeps it off.  Because you can’t handle another heartbreak like that.
Next
Masterlist
@tis-thedamn-season @theinheriteddutchess
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago
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Dirty Minds 1
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson
Summary: You start a new job after being fired as a programmer and it's more than you could have anticipated. (maid AU)
Note: I should stop.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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“Yeah, mom, I got the job,” you huff. “On my way right now. You really think Auntie would say no?” 
“I know my sister,” your mother harrumphs from the other end. “She doesn’t do favours.” 
“I mean, couldn’t she just give me some money instead of making me scrub floors,” you joke to the deathly silent speaker. “Alright, cool, well, guess I should go. I’m here.” 
“Good luck,” your mom sighs. “Please don’t mess this up. Your father and I already postponed our vacation once.” 
“I won’t,” you croak, deflated by the reminder. “Love ya.” 
She hangs up without returning the sentiment. Yep, she’s still mad about that. You didn’t ask to be fired. Actually, you worked overtime and bent over backwards just to avoid the fate. It happened anyways. Every company in the state culled their numbers. Looks like your programming degree is now as coveted as English Lit. 
You look up at the Upper East Side townhouse and suck your teeth. It’s just another reminder of everything you don’t have. Of everything you lost. Your order-in pad thai and sushi have given way to peanut butter on stale bread and canned soups. You can go without, it just stinks. 
This should help. Aunt Jan says the job pays well if you do a good job. The more clients you can pick up, the better. For now, you’re starting out with one. Probation, she calls it. Even if your mom hates her sister, they’re more alike than she cares to admit. 
You grunt as you swing the bucket of cleaning supplies with your steps up the concrete steps. The compact vacuum strapped to your back doesn’t aid in your struggle to maintain your balance. You couldn’t afford the rental fee for the company car so you schlupped everything here on the subway. Not ideal. 
You put the kit down and tap the buzzer, struggling to catch your breath. There’s no answer. Jan said that might happen. Try again and if there’s no answer, let yourself in. 
It’s not that complex, is it? You got through coding and calculus. You can figure out all those attachments for the vacuum. You hit the button again. 
“Ah, welcome lady maid, you’ve come at last,” the booming lilted voice crackles from the speaker. You flinch. There’s a lens there too. You try to smile. 
“Uh, hi,” you reply. “I was sent by the Agency.” 
“Yes, yes, as Stark recommended. Please, come in. Ehhhh, which button....” 
The door clicks and beeps as it unlocks. Wonderful. The blind leading the blind. That might be better. You definitely don’t need a stickler pointing out the streaks on the windows. 
You push the door open and heave the bucket over the threshold. You take off your shoes and unhook the vacuum from your back. Should you start with the instructions in the app or go find your new boss? 
You wander further in, sheepish as you look around the interior. There’s red satin strewn over the back of the French-style sofa and clunky boots beside it. And there’s a few takeout containers piled across from the large television. Oh, right, it definitely is a man. 
“Lady maid? Is that you?” The voice calls through the doorway to your right. 
You slowly follow it as you hear clinking from within. You peek into the kitchen and cry out at the scene. You don’t mean to stare at the naked ass but it’s the first thing that you see. The large man, with blond hair spilling past his shoulders, is nonchalant as he loads the coffee maker. Entirely naked! 
“Uhhhhh.” Your voice unfurls dumbly and you bring your hand up to block your view. “Um. You—you're...” 
“Oh my, yes, I do forget myself,” he chortles and searches around. He grabs an apron and ties it around his waist. “In Asgard, the natural form is not stigmatized. Rather, we do much unfettered. Cook, clean, wrestle.” 
You reluctantly drop your hand as you’re face by the man and his immense chest. He’s huge. And familiar. He isn’t a man at all. He’s... 
“Thor?” You utter dumbly. 
“You know me? Did I perhaps save your cat?” He asks. 
“No, I saw you... on TV.” 
“Oh yes, how amusing. It was I!” He grins triumphantly. “They don’t always tell me when there are cameras.” 
“Hm,” you nod awkwardly. “I... should I just start.” 
“Ah, diligent maid, how admirable. To work so earnestly,” he praises and turns to grab his cup as the machine quits grinding. His ass is still out as the apron only conceals his front. You’re not going to get hung up on it. He’s probably hung too. 
Wow. Wow. Keep your head above board. 
“I’ll start out there,” you point over your shoulder. 
“Whatever you like, lady maid.” 
You retreat and try not to picture his muscular ass or statuesque shoulders or bright blue eyes. It must be a godly trick. You’re not one of those fan girls. You’re not pathetic like that. 
You start in the living room. You open a bin bag and start to gather the containers. A fan of burritos, you see. You make your way around the surfaces. You should be methodic. Clutter first, then floors. 
You continue back into the entryway and organize the shoe rack. You hang the cloak left on the sofa and take the boots over to the mat. There’s several cloaks and many shoes and boots. The green satin holds your curiosity. You didn’t think that was his colour. 
You carry on through each room, avoiding the kitchen as long as you can. You go into the bathroom, bracing yourself. You wipe off an errant glop of toothpaste and some darker hair strands near the drain. Those are black, not blond. 
A groan tickles your ear and you glance over as a shadow steps into the doorway. The lithe figure stretches his arms above him as he tilts his head back, arching so his chest puffs out and his... bits dangle freely. You squeal and cover your eyes. 
“Oh god!” You cry out. 
“So I am,” the other Asgardian sweeps in without bother, brushing by you as he approaches the toilet. 
“Uhhhh, oh, oh,” you squeak as he flips up the lid. “Jeez!” 
You hurry out of the bathroom and swing the door shut behind you as his stream hits the water loudly. You stand on the other side, breathless in shock. That was him. Loki!
You don’t know what’s more off putting. The shameless nudity or that you’ve been assigned to clean up after two gods. Not just gods, avengers. Well, at least Thor. 
It doesn’t matter. You’re here to clean, so keep your eyes and your brain under control. You don’t need Aunt Jan getting a complaint, even if this is the last job you wanted. 
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simplyhughes · 5 months ago
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Reunion | Evan “Buck” Buckley x Reader
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WC: 2.2K
Request: “Pis pls plss do a childhood friends to lovers w buck like she moved to La to be close to buck and everyone at the 118 thinks they're dating because of how close they are but they aren't dating YET and can you please try to throw in a heated argument between them that ends with a heated kiss!!!!!! Pls plss plsss”
Pairing: Evan Buckley X Fem!Reader
Warning: sad childhood ?? Idk nothing rlly
A/N: Please give me feedback!! I hope you like it!!!
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It was always Buck and Y/N—everyone knew that. The two of you had been inseparable ever since you moved in next door in the second grade. It all started with Maddie babysitting you for some extra pocket money. You adored her; she was the sister you’d always wished for. And when Buck began tagging along, the rest was history.
The day Buck told you he’d been kicked out of community college, your heart broke for him. When you pulled away from the hug meant to comfort him, he shared that Maddie had given him some money to figure out his next steps. You questioned him, pestered him, trying to keep him from doing something irrational. By the end of the conversation, he stormed out of your apartment, slamming the door behind him, leaving you sitting there in tears.
Once Buck hit the road to California, his regret set in. He knew he had to do this for himself, to find himself. His guilt poured in like rainfall. After a couple hours of driving, A few hours into the drive, he pulled into a rest stop with a diner and ordered coffee and pancakes. Without thinking, he dialed your number, desperate to make things right. The two of you talked for over an hour, hashing out everything. You understood his need for a fresh start, but it devastated you that it wouldn’t include you.
When the call ended, both parties felt relieved. You promised to come visit when you finished school and both of you vowed to stay in touch. The vow was never broken. Everyday you hear new thrilling anecdotes of Evans' life. The trashing fire he put out, now that he was a firefighter, or the crazy new fling of the week. Though every time he brings up a new girl you feel your heart pang, you stay happy for him and you're grateful to hear his voice.
After you received your diploma, you wasted no time. With your degree in hand and a mix of nerves and excitement in your chest, you booked the next flight to the City of Angels. Maddie, now living in Los Angeles herself, was the one who gave you Buck’s current address.
You’d thought about this moment for years, imagining how it would feel to see him again. The two of you had kept in touch, but phone calls and texts could only do so much. You wanted to be there in person, to see him in his element, living the life he’d always dreamed of.
When you arrived, standing outside his apartment door, you hesitated. What if things had changed too much? What if the years apart had built walls that even your bond couldn’t break? But before you could overthink it, the door swung open, and there he was—Buck, with his boyish grin and those familiar eyes that held both surprise and joy.
“Y/N?” he said, his voice laced with disbelief.
“Hi, Buck,” you replied, your heart pounding.
Without a second thought, he engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug, sweeping you off the ground and spinning you around like a rag doll. When your feet finally touched the floor, his hands cupped your face, his eyes searching yours.
“You look beautiful, Y/N. I missed you so much,” he confessed.
Before you could reply, his excitement took over. “Oh! You have to meet my team! They’re going to love you…” He rambled on about how great they were, how much he’d missed you, and how everyone already knew all about you.
Grabbing your hand, he led you out of the apartment and down to the parking lot. It was crazy—like no time had passed at all. Everything between you felt natural, just as it had before he left.
Buck opened the door of his Jeep, helping you into the passenger seat before rushing around to climb in himself.
“Wait… Are we really going to meet them?” you asked nervously. You’d heard so much about his team, but this was all so sudden.
“Well, I was already on my way to work. This is perfect! Don’t worry—they already know all about you,” he assured you with a grin.
The firehouse was bigger than you’d thought. Buck leads the way with you trailing closely behind him, almost hiding yourself from the fire fighters inside the house.
“HEYYY BUCKAROO!” Echoed through the house, originating from on top of one of the fire engines.
“Hey Chim! Look- I brought someone!” Buck chirped.
“You brought someone?” Spoke a man who had walked out of the locker room. From all the pictures that Buck sent of his new LA family, you were pretty sure this was Eddie. Now standing in the middle of the fire house, Buck tugged on your arm pulling you out in front of him. You are now face to face with three members of Evans team. Chim, who was on top of the Engine, climbs his way down standing next to Eddie.
“Guys, this is Y/N!” Buck exclaims, acting as if this was an elementary show and tell.
“Wait, the Y/N?” A woman you “knew” as Hen questioned.
“Like Pennsylvania Y/N?” Eddie followed up.
“That's me.” You reply sheepishly, giving them a small wave.
“It is very nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Bobby” The older of the four introduced himself, sticking out his hand for you to shake.
“Captain Nash, right?” You question, shaking his hand softly. In return, he nods with a sweet smile.
You shuffle back, finding your place next Buck, whose beaming smile never left his face. He loops an arm around your waist, giving you a reassuring nod. Buck announces he is gonna give you the “grand tour” of the fire house. He clasps your hand with his as he pulls you off upstairs.
Hen, Chim and Eddie lounged across the couch, subtling watching you and Buck. Your elbows rest on the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of water Buck poured for you. His mouth is talking a mile a minute, subconsciously always keeping a hand on you. The other firefighters watch Buck, noting his eyes gleaming with awe. Buck sweeps his large hand across your forehead sweeping a strand of hair out from your face.
“I missed you” He whispers as he pulls you in for a hug.
“I missed you too—” You began to respond before you got rudely interrupted by the piercing sound of the alarm.
“Hey, you can go back to my place or hangout here. Whatever you want, mkay? I gotta go, but I'll see you too.” He quickly explains releasing you from the hug, placing a soft kiss against the top of your head. You didn't even have time to respond before he ran away with a grin. He shoots down the firepole meeting the rest of the team for departure. Overlooking from the banister, you watch him in action. The engine pulls out, sirens blazing. Now you are left all alone.
After a minute, you decided to call an uber back to Buck’s place. Only one problem, you couldn't find your phone. You retraced all your steps and still couldn’t find it. Ten minutes later is when you realize your phone was left back at Buck's apartment. You didn't want to take Buck's car and overstep, so your only option left was to hang around until the 118 got back.
A couple hours later, the truck pulls back into the bay. You watch the team file off the truck, shedding their heavy gear and recapping about the recent call. After a minute you spot Buck and his group.
“So, what's with you and Y/N?” Hen asks.
“What do you mean?” He hums, tossing his jacket over his shoulder.
“You’re like attached by the hip!” Chim jokes.
“You guys together?” Eddie pesters nudging Bucks shoulder.
“Huh? What? Nonono, she has been my best friend since forever! Like a second sister!” He defends himself. That felt like a kick to your gut. Suddenly, your stomach swirled with lost hope. A gloss film spread across your eyes, but you tilted your head up to rid the tears.
After the team put all their stuff away, Buck spots you in a similar spot to where he left you. He gestures you to make your way down to him. You sluggishly trot down the stairs, approaching him.
“I thought you woulda left.”
“I forgot my phone back at your place, I wanted to call an uber.”
“You could have taken my car! But m’sorry, I hope you were able to entertain yourself.”
“It was no problem.” You shrugged.
“You good “Y/NN?” He questioned, voice laced with concern.
In return, you nod offering your best smile. “Just jetlagged.” You lied.
“Here i'll get you an uber. I'm on call for a few more hours and I'll be home ASAP.” He smiled, opening the app on his phone.
You sprawled out against Bucks couch, flicking through the channels on tv. But you are too lost in your head to decide on a show. Not only did you realize your feelings for Buck but how could you have been so foolish to think he thought of you that day? He is a jacked firefighter with all the gorgeous LA girls at his disposal. You were just next door neighbor Y/N.
Buck arrives back at the apartment a few hours later, exhausted but grinning when he sees you sprawled on the couch.
“Y/N, you here?” he calls out, dropping his bag by the door.
“Yeah, on the couch.,” you reply, sitting up, though your voice lacks its usual spark.
He notices. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You hesitate, but the events of the day are still fresh. He tosses a pillow off the couch, making room for himself, plopping down next to you. Finally, you blurt out, “Why did you say that to them?”
Buck freezes, confused. “Say what?”
“That I’m like a second sister to you,” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them.
Buck’s brows knit together. “Because that’s what you are! What’s wrong with that?”
The emotional dam breaks. “Because I’m not your sister, Buck! I flew across the country to be here—to be with you. Do you even realize how much you mean to me? And to hear you say that…” You trail off, your voice cracking.
He steps closer, his voice softening. “Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”
“You just don’t see me the way I see you,” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. “And that’s fine, Buck. But I can’t keep pretending this is enough.”
Buck’s jaw tightens, and his frustration rises. “You think I don’t care about you? I care about you more than anything—maybe too much. That’s why I said it, okay? Because if I lose you, I don’t know what I’d do!”
His words hit you like a freight train, and the room goes silent except for your uneven breathing.
“Then stop saying things like that,” you whisper.
Buck stares at you, his chest heaving. “You have no idea how hard it was to be that far away from you. And now to be this close to you and not—”
“Not what?” you challenge, stepping closer.
His restraint snaps. “This,” he whispers, and in one fluid motion, he cups your face and crashes his lips against yours.
The kiss is searing, all pent-up frustration and years of unspoken feelings spilling over. Your hands tangle in his hair as you pull him closer, melting into him as though the world outside doesn’t exist.
When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, his forehead resting against yours, the only sound being you struggling to catch your breath.
“I’ve loved you for so long, Y/N. It killed me to leave you.” he admits, his voice hoarse.
Your heart swells, and a small smile tugs at your lips. “Took you long enough to say it Buckley.”
He pulls you into another hug, his strong arms wrapping around you tightly like he’s afraid to let go. “So…does this mean you’re not leaving anytime soon?”
“Not unless you want me to,” you tease, your voice lighter now.
Buck leans back, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t want you to go. Ever.”
“You’re stuck with me, Buck,” you murmur, a soft smile playing on your lips.
“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss to your hair.
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iridescentxstars · 10 months ago
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-> 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 .ೃ࿐ [ — bangchan ][part one]
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➳ published: 23.06.24 ➳ credit: banner: @aaagustd || beta: @wooahaeproductions ➳ werewolf!au || bakery!au || enemies to lover!au || genre: smut || angst || supernatural || fluff || dark || rating: m ➳ pairing: alpha!bangchan x bakery!reader (fem) ➳ summary: a decision in chris' past leads him down a road that brings him to his mate and even though he says he doesn't want her - it seems destiny, and others, won't take no for an answer. ➳ word count: 28.5k (this part) || total: 56.6k ➳ warnings: mentions of cheating (on the reader by an ex), violence, toxic behaviour, manipulation, unprotected sex, light degradation/praise, accidental claiming, drunk sex (still able to consent and make decisions), no aftercare ➳ author's note: hello, it's me! it has been 4734873294 years since i started this fic and wow, i hope you love it! the mc is affectionately nicknamed 'sugar' and has minor descriptors just to help flesh her out a little more and she is implied to be curvy and soft (no eye colour, name, etc.). ➳ taglist: @byunparklimchoi @djeniryuu @sanjoongie @honey-andmilktea (please let me know if you want to be tagged in future works)
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Life has always been about the choices you make, the ones you allow to change the trajectory of your future. Sometimes, these decisions are terrible and you learn lessons that you may never have had to otherwise but others can put you on the path of a future that turns your life upside down in all the best ways.
This wasn’t the thought you had when your sister called and asked if you wanted to join her in a new adventure. That adventure happened to be starting a small business, a bakery, in this cute little town on the coast. You didn’t know whether it was something you really wanted to do with your newly acquired business degree but how could you say no? How could you possibly say no to Spice when she pouted, holding her hands and pleading that without her darling little sister, she couldn’t possibly make this work?
Six years in university, the better half of your twenties, and you were packing up your small apartment to move out of the city to a new town. A new life. A fresh start. Considering that your loser boyfriend of several months had cheated on you and the exhaustion that ultimately came with being a university student had drained you significantly; this change in scenery could be something that is actually beneficial to you – especially since you were about to build the cutest little bakery with your sister.
‘Everything Nice.’
It took a lot of planning, hours, blood, sweat, and tears but after several months and many, many mental breakdowns, you and your sister were proud owners of a bustling little business that slowly grew to be something loved by the locals and tourists alike. It might not have been as flashy as the bakeries you would frequent near your university but it was everything that you both had dreamed about.
Apparently, it was also something the locals needed as well. You had plenty of regulars who would come as soon as you opened up their doors and others who always came in on their breaks for something to treat themselves before rushing back to work.
Your routines had changed and you went from a life of the party girl to someone who would be exhausted in bed before 10pm. You missed your old lifestyle, you missed going out with friends and getting into trouble that often resulted in silly, fun stories the next day but you had to admit that living near the beach, surrounded by fresh air and forests, was peaceful. The months rolled into a year and it never wore off – that peace, the serenity, and the healing that comes with time. You had managed to grow, to learn, to find more to your life than chasing after boys and passing out in random beds every weekend.
Plus, you were able to bond with Spice and eat her delicious baking whenever you wanted.
Like right now, as the mouth-watering smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the kitchen into the front of the bakery. You start to salivate, comedically following the sweet scent towards the viewing window and smiling at your sister. Serena, or Spice as you affectionately call her, is standing in the messy kitchen with her hair tied up in a messy bun and an apron on with flour over the front where she’s used it as a hand cloth. “Are they ready?” You stare intensely at the oven while Serena laughs in amusement, shaking her head, “what?!” Your voice raises an octave as you pull away from the window, heading towards the kitchen with the door swinging closed behind you as you enter.
“Nothing, I’m just surprised that our customers have anything to eat with the way that you are always ‘taste-testing’ everything I make.” Scrunching your cute nose up, you swipe one of the bakery’s signature chocolate chip cookies sitting on the tray and take a bite. The deliciousness is overpowered by the heat, causing you to tilt your head back and breathe out hot air with a whine. “You literally just watched me take it out of the oven, silly! What are you doing?” Oh, don't you look so funny trying to cool down the burning cookie in your mouth?
“I couldn’t wait! They smelled so good!” You tried to speak with your mouth full of goodness.
Clicking her tongue at you, Serena passes over a plate for you to quickly place down the cookie and grab a glass of milk to help soothe the burning sensation in your mouth. “Clearly.” She laughs when you begin acting a little more dramatically than you need to, helping the woman settle her nerves about the massive catering event later. “You can’t eat everything that comes out of the oven today, I’m sorry that you’ll have to make do with what we already have out the front. With the size of the catering order, I need every cookie I make.”
You smile and giggle, nodding your head as you grab your plate and take another bite, “don’t forget about our regular coming in today for his order!” You wave the cookie in goodbye before heading out to the front, just in time to hear the front doorbell chime, announcing a customer walking in. “He hasn’t missed a week since he started coming here!” Serena hums softly to show that she hasn’t forgotten and getting back to work, You turn to smile at the newcomer. “Hello!” You smile brightly, your cheeks soft and round, as you place your plate out of sight under the till. You walk out to the front of the store, past all the breads and pastries, to check over some of the items, “if you are after anything in particular, feel free to ask.” The customer bows in acknowledgement while browsing while you simply tidy the savoury displays up.
The day passes by rather quickly and you are certain that if you didn’t go and annoy Serena every few moments then she would lose her mind or drown in the amount of cookies and macarons that she has made today. You help where you can, mostly with the savoury items, placing all the food onto trays and organising them so that they are ready for pick up while Serena focuses on baking and making sure that nothing in the store is running low. A lot of work for you two but you both manage to get it done and before long, you are finally able to sit down on your little stool behind the counter. The clock indicates it’s time for the kitchen to start getting cleaned so now you can focus on selling whatever is left over so that you don’t have too much waste when closing.
You realise as you scroll through your notifications that the regular hasn’t arrived to collect his order and honestly, you pout at the thought that maybe he had forgotten; not only does Serena put extra effort into the order because he’s their first regular since you established the bakery and gained a reputation around town but also because… well, he’s hot. You know that the food isn’t just for him, the amount alone is way too much for one person to eat by themselves and it doesn’t matter whether it’s for friends or a girlfriend because you're far too shy to actually ask but you just like looking at him. From a distance, of course, you’re not that weird… or you hope not. He has this smile that makes you melt inside every time you see it and he is really friendly – is it wrong that you have a little crush?
“You could always help me with the cleaning, you know,” Serena pops her head through the door, glaring at the younger sister as you sit on your phone replying to a friend about a party happening in the city this weekend. It’s been a long time since you had gone and seen everyone and while most of the group that you spent time with in university are people you still get along with, there are some you could happily go without seeing ever again but your friend thought it’ll be good to catch up.
It should be fine, right? A party, plenty of people, it shouldn’t be that bad.
Looking over at Serena, you smile innocently, pointing to the front of the store where you had placed some of the sandwiches and pastries to entice people to come inside and see what else you had to offer. “Oh, but dearest sister, if I am out the back helping you then who is going to make sure that nobody is stealing your delicious goodies?”
Serena scoffs, raising an eyebrow as a man stops and looks over the assortment, “and what? If he stole a sandwich, would you chase him down the street and tackle him to the ground for theft?”
Gasping dramatically, you place your hand over your chest in faux offence, “Rude! Are you saying that I can’t run?”
“Can you?”
There’s a moment of silence before the two of you start to laugh, her head disappearing from the door to carry on with her closing while you stand up and place your phone in your apron pocket. Straightening out your dress, you try your best to stifle your laughter as the man walks inside with a brown paper bag full of sandwiches. “Welcome to Everything Nice!” You chime cheerfully, watching as he slowly walks around, grabbing a few extra items here and there before making his way to the counter. 
The man’s attire stands out in contrast to your soft pastel purple dress, with pockets you like to point out. His black band tee has been made into a singlet by having the sleeves cut off and his black jeans are paired with some black boots and of course, you wonder where this man came from. “If you want anything else, everything is half-price since we are closing soon.” You smile at him, hoping that maybe his attitude is brighter than his wardrobe. You didn’t manage to get a good look at him earlier while he was strolling his way through the small bakery but when you take in his features, you pause, blinking slowly as you take him in.
Seriously, where in all that is holy did this man come from?
You’ve lived here for a while now, you’ve made friends with some of the locals but never have you laid eyes on this man but then… Why does he feel familiar? Not that you can figure it out right there but you’re certain you’ve never met. Yet, there’s this strange feeling, a flutter in your stomach as your eyes slowly trace over his face, that he is someone important, like a long-lost friend that you’ve forgotten.
Maybe more but surely not.
His deep brown, almost black, eyes are on you as he patiently waits for you to do something other than stare at him – like your job. His features are masculine, strong, and makes you wonder if he was in one of your classes but if you did go to school together, he’d have said something by now right? You have a good memory, most of the time, so you’re certain there’s no connection to him but it doesn’t chase away that feeling. Eerie. The sharpness of his jawline is in direct opposition to the softness of his full lips, which are currently pulled into a frown because instead of working – you’re openly staring at him and probably making him uncomfortable.
Scratch that. Definitely making him uncomfortable.
Clearing your throat, you pull your gaze away from his face with a tinge of pink colouring your cheeks. You hadn’t missed the size of his biceps when he crossed them over his chest while waiting, and the unholiest thought went through your mind in that moment – and a sudden need to know what it would be like to feel them around you.
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Chris’ day started about as good as it would go walking across a room filled with mouse traps. As the Alpha of the Moonlight Grove Pack, he’s been stuck in discussion with other neighbouring packs about a peace deal. They’ve had a few close calls with some hunters lately and this way, they can keep under the radar to prevent them from getting any closer than they already are. Most of the Alphas have agreed to the terms of the deal as they all know that this is the best way for them to get through these next few months unscathed.
Hunters are always finding new ways to capture them, to destroy what they consider the darkness that haunts the forests but usually they give up after failed attempts to find a wolf. A lot of these packs have been here for generations, Chris’ pack being one of the oldest and while there are always risks that come with staying in one place, his father refused to run away and so does he.
There have always been talks about fighting back but an all-out war with the hunters isn’t a smart move and while Chris might have a short temper, he likes to play things smart; he’s not the type of Alpha who will rush into a fight without knowing whether he’s going to win or lose. He also doesn’t lose, or particularly like losing. He doesn’t care about wolf pride, he doesn’t care about fighting until his final breath, he couldn’t give a shit about all of that if it means being a mounted fucking head on the wall of some human who happened to be a good shot.
He’d rather keep his pack alive than have them torn apart like he’s seen with other packs.
Some of the rogues, however, are not as eager to back down and comply. They don’t care for peace, they don’t care about following orders and they also don’t care for hunters. This is why they left the packs that they were connected to, not wanting to be tied to some rules that forced them to bow down when they’d rather die fighting. It’s a painful thing to do but for some wolves, it’s better than being what they consider being cowardly.
The wolf rubs his chin as he thinks about the look on his old beta’s face when they stood nose to nose earlier during the meeting. Sure, it was a hit to the gut when he saw Minho standing there with the other rogues, his oldest friend having left the pack a year ago when Chris didn’t retaliate against the death of his mate. It’s not that he didn’t want to – fuck, the wolf in him wanted nothing more than to tear the entire pack apart with his best friend beside him. He wanted to provide vengeance, feel their necks snap in his strong jaws, and taste their blood on his tongue but nobody could have afforded a war then, just like they can’t now, so the Alpha took the diplomatic approach and had the offending wolf rejected from his pack.
It’s forbidden to kill another wolf’s mate, considered one of the most heinous crimes anyone can commit against their fellow wolf kind, and he should have died for the act but it wasn’t going to bring Minho’s mate back.
Minho had left shortly after, not wanting to follow his Alpha’s command about no violence, and sought out revenge on his own. This resulted in him severing his connection to the pack and that was the last time Chris had seen him.
Weak. That was what Minho had called him back then and the word swirls around in his mind as he remembers the incident. Shaking his head, Chris pushes away the thoughts as he rounds the corner to the pastel yellow bakery that he’s been frequenting for the past few months.
Not him directly since Felix, his new second in command, has been collecting his orders but it’s still him who pays for the orders.
He remembers hearing about Everything Nice opening up. The stir that the two sisters created when they moved into town and opened up the bakery was enough to have the Alpha and his pack curious about who they could be. It isn’t unusual for people to come and go but considering that the town isn’t what he would consider a dream location for two young women – their reasons for coming here did cause rumours to fly around. He scoffs, thinking about how easily amused people can be when they have mundane lives of their own because realistically, he couldn’t care less about why they had moved here. The only reason he had been curious was because this was his territory and he wanted to make sure they weren’t going to bring trouble with them.
It makes sense though, a bakery like theirs should be doing well here as it’s a business that has no competition, locals that’ll happily purchase their treats, and during the summer, tourists coming for the beach.
While Chris may not really care about their reason, as he approaches and looks over the sandwiches left outside, he does admit they made really good bread. He fills up a paper bag and heads inside, his nose instantly bombarded with an abundance of smells that make his stomach growl in hunger.
“Welcome to Everything Nice!” A soft and sweet voice calls to him when he enters the bakery, the bell ringing above the door almost unheard as he looks over in her direction briefly before he looks back at the other items in his path, half listening to what she’s saying. Something about deals. Chris hums, more to himself than anything, looking over the pastries and grabbing a few extra items since he knows that the boys will complain about him not bringing them back as much as he can carry.
Who said he was a bad Alpha? Like fuck he is.
When he finally reaches the counter, placing all the bags on the glass bench, he watches as the woman’s eyes widen, her mouth slightly parting in shock and it takes everything in him to refrain from sighing as she openly checks him out. Honestly, it’s not unusual for him to gain this type of reaction from women and it’s usually followed by some type of hair twirl and batting of the eyelashes. In the past, he would have engaged, flirted with them, and gotten their number but today – he doesn’t care… oh?
All that happens is that the woman blushes as she rings everything up on the till.
Interesting.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” Chris’ lip twitches slightly, amused that despite her attempt to seem unaffected, it’s obvious that she is with the way her voice hitches slightly and her heart is racing.
Tilting his head to the side, Chris checks her out with the same openness that she had before, causing her to get more flustered by his actions. There’s something about her, something he isn’t going to try to figure out while everyone is waiting for him so he hums, nodding his head instead of asking for her name.
Maybe he’s fucked her back in university.
“I have an order here, it should be ready by now.” He speaks, his voice softer than usual but still holding that timbre that has most women swooning for him. “The order is under the name ‘Christopher’.”
“Oh?” She sounds a little surprised, confused maybe, but she doesn’t elaborate as she nods her head and turns on her heels to grab a large box from behind her. “I was wondering when he was going to come in, can you tell him I said hi?”
Chris raises an eyebrow, it’s not hard to figure out this woman is under the impression that Felix is him. It’s not surprising really, it’s not like there was a photo attached to his name but surely the beta would have said his name at some point… it’s been months. “Are you close with him?” Felix hasn’t really spoken about her specifically but he does always hear the beta talk about the two sisters and how cute the younger one is, bright and cheerful, as sweet as the cupcakes that they make.
She shakes her head, the softest smile on her face. “Mm, not super close, no. He’s our favourite regular, especially since lately, he brings us flowers.” She brings his attention to the bouquet of freshly picked peonies and it takes everything in Chris not to growl in annoyance. Those are from his garden, he was wondering what was happening to his flowers and why they were oddly disappearing. “We are very happy to have his support!”
Oh, it would be so easy to burst that little bubble of hers but Chris decides that he’s not going to do that – yet. Instead, he takes a deep breath, inhaling in an addictively sweet, sugary scent mixed with the peonies, and forces himself to smile. He’s going to have fun with this, it’s been a while since he was able to fuck around like this so why not pick on the human who doesn’t know better. Not only is Felix never allowed to come and collect his order anymore, but he’s going to see how long he can drag this out.
Does he need to do this? Absolutely not but with everything going on lately, he needs the entertainment.
“Ah, well, I’ll make sure to let him know,” he passes the woman his card, noticing that she doesn’t even bother to check the name on the card as she swipes it down the machine and hands it back to him. “See you next time,” he winks, making that deliciously pink tinge return to her cheeks, grabbing the handles of the bags and heads for the door. “I swear to the fucking Moon Goddess, Felix…” he growls through gritted teeth as the door swings closed behind and he walks with purpose back towards his car.
His peonies? Seriously?
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The man comes in to collect the order every time over the next month, the order that is his and you still haven’t figured it out. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t told you that it’s his so how else would you know this? It must really amuse him whenever you pass on your wishes to Felix… or well, him. He walks in, carrying a few extra items from out the front every time, and would even buy a loaf of bread or a small pack of cupcakes on top of the order. “For myself,” he says while you neatly box everything up and place a little discount coupon for him to use the next time he comes in.
You have learned that he’s not one for conversation, choosing to listen unless you directly ask him questions but it’s clear that he’s observing everything around them; like he needs to be aware of his surroundings at all times, which has you wondering who he is for him to be so on edge like that. He’s definitely not famous… maybe it’s an ex that he’s trying to avoid seeing. Sometimes, he makes a few teasing comments that cause your cheeks to heat up because you don’t know whether this insanely attractive man is actually flirting with you or if he’s just pushing your buttons since you’ve been caught several times checking him out.
Yeah, you’re not exactly subtle about it.
“So, are you a part of the ‘everything nice’?” He asks one Friday afternoon, leaning his hip against the counter, arms folded as the black tee he wears strains over the muscles of his chest. Dark, curious eyes twinkling lightly as he looks you up and down before making their way to your face, watching your reaction. 
You giggle, playfully rolling your eyes because that isn’t the first time someone has tried their luck with that particular pick up line. Every single guy that has walked into the bakery has tried it but honestly, it almost works with the amount of confidence he spoke with and that smirk on his lips has you feeling like you could melt. He could ask you for anything and you’d probably agree. Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, you pack the items. “You do know that you aren’t the first person to say that, right? I’ve had three guys use that on me already.” You shake your head, amused, before entering the total into the EFTPOS machine, and the man hands over the card.
A low hum escapes him as he tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, “And you turn them all down because you have someone already?”
“Well, I didn’t say that, did I?” Your lips quirk upwards into a teasing smile as you pass the card back to him, meeting his eyes and you wonder if that’s interest swirling within those dark irises or if he always looks this intense. Probably both. Either way, it really does something to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.
He’s about to say something, clearly wanting to be able to continue this, but the ringing of his phone cuts the conversation short and he pulls away. “I’ll see you around, sugar~.” He says as he grabs everything before taking his leave and of course, you watch him as he goes.
Damn, he’s got such a nice ass.
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“What is it?” Chris growls lowly into his phone as he walks out of the bakery, not glancing back even though he can feel the pretty woman’s eye on him, watching him closely leaves. Oh, it’s tempting to turn back and watch her fluster when she knows that he caught her staring. The way her cheeks go the loveliest shade of pink every time and her eyes widen like a deer in headlights before trying to busy herself has started to become his favourite reaction yet.
He’s wearing the same style as he always has when he’s come to visit, a black tee that fits him perfectly, sometimes missing the sleeves but always hinting at the strong muscles hiding underneath, and some kind of black pants. His wardrobe doesn’t really have a lot of variety these days but he couldn’t really give a shit about it when he had more to worry about than being some kind of fashion icon. His short black hair isn’t usually styled since he’s often running his fingers through it all day so it’s slightly messy by the time he arrives and while Chris doesn’t care if he looks particularly show stopping – she seems to find it to be with the way she’s looking. Maybe she’s looking for a prospective mate, she seems to be in that age where women are usually doing that, and the way she’s checking him out makes it clear that the woman is single but if a mate is something she’s after… Chris is not the man for her.
Even in the cutest dresses that change every single time he comes in, even when her smile seems to take up all of his attention that he forgets why he’s there, and even when her scent lingers around him, drawing him in – Chris is not the man for her.
He’d be the worst thing to happen to a human and oh, this woman is far too precious to break. Like that, anyway.
A name grabs his attention, pulling his wandering thoughts away from the sweetest thing he’s laid his eyes on and causes his jaw to clench. “He left. What the fuck is he doing hanging around my territory?”
When a wolf leaves the pack they are in, depending on the circumstances they are either forbidden to return or can come and go without consequences. It’s not that Chris has actually told Minho and his little band of wayward followers that they can’t visit the pack territory, it’s more about why they are here. His former beta only comes when he wants something or wants to cause trouble and from the way the wolf has been hanging around lately - something is coming Chris hates that he’s in the dark about it.
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“He still hasn’t told you his name?” Serena walks out of the kitchen when the man leaves, watching as you walk back from having locked the door behind him and trying to get one last look at the tasty treat of a man before he disappears for another week. “You’d think that because he’s picking up the order, he would have given you a name too.” She leans a shoulder against the wall and looks at the front door with that disapproving big sister scowl.
Shrugging your shoulders, you pout slightly because she has a good point. You had been meaning to ask for his name, maybe his number, but the chance never really came up since it’s not like he’s very forthcoming with any type of chatter unless he’s flirting and making your poor heart stutter. “If he’s hot then there’s surely going to be some kind of red flag about him,” you recite the saying that you and your friends would say whenever they found a new fling. Spice looks at you for a moment, lips pursed as if she’s about to say something but then decides against it; instead, she sighs and heads over to the register to start the cash up while you put everything away and begin closing down the store.
Usually, you get rather chatty, laughing and playing music as you clean up but tonight, the both of you want to get out of there as quickly as possible. You both have plans, plans that will end the week on a good note and you don’t want to waste a moment since you still need to head upstairs and get ready.
Girls night. It has been a while since you have managed to get your sister to get out to Seoul and you  want nothing more than to go catch up with your friends, let loose, and paint the town red. While the town has a nightclub or two, it is always the same people who frequent them and it is so hard to be free for the night when one mistake could end up becoming the town’s gossip the next day.
You also refuse to have to serve the man at any point afterward.
Once everything has been done, you lock the back door behind her, rattling the handle to make sure it’s locked before rushing up the stairs behind Serena. Your two-bedroom apartment is conveniently located above the bakery and helps you both out with travel costs since you don’t need to commute to work. Most people who come from the city might say that it is a downgrade and in a sense, it is; modest and small, half the size of what you once had but it has everything two women could possibly need. You love the space and you don’t have to pay a ridiculous amount of rent for the place. Your bra comes off immediately as soon as you close the door and kick off your shoes. “You know…” You start as you flop down onto the couch and drop the cursed item of clothing onto the floor.
“No,” Serena states as she places her bag down on the table and shakes her head while you lift yours to look over at her, appalled that you were shot down before you could even state your case. “Your breasts are big enough that you will be able to tell that you aren’t wearing a bra. We want people to come into the bakery for our food - not men coming in to stare at your nipples.”
Sitting up, you frown at your older sister like a child who has just been told off by a parent, “That’s rude.” You grumble before getting up and heading to your room. “Since you’re being such a spoilsport, I’m going to use the shower first!” You poke your tongue out before pretending to stomp your feet on your way out.
Serena hums in acceptance as if to simply please the tantrum you’re having while continuing her own routine. You toss your bra into the washing basket in the corner near your bed before going to the wardrobe to browse through your clothes. You want something that’ll catch attention, something that’ll help make sure that the pent-up sexual frustration will be taken care of because you refuse to resort to Tinder in this tiny town. Imagine sleeping with the guy who always messes up your coffee order!
Oh? This should do perfectly. You think to herself as you find a pretty red dress with a very low cut, revealing back.
“You look like you’re going to try and get in trouble.” Your sister comments when she gets out of the shower and finds you sitting at your vanity doing your makeup. You’re taking your time to make sure that you look dangerous, your hair a little wild and your makeup bold, you want to look like you could catch the attention of those mafia boyfriends you love to read about.
Maybe enough to catch the attention of a dangerous man who frequents the bakery. You can only hope.
Smiling proudly, you stand up and twirl around before striking a silly pose, causing Serena to laugh. “Thank you~. I’m going for the deadly Queen vibe.” You pucker your lips, making herself look even more ridiculous in the hopes that it’ll help your sister loosen up about the night. She’s protective, she always has been, and while you love her to the moon and back – she needs to leave that protectiveness behind for one night and focus on getting laid.
Not that you’ll actually tell her that… okay, maybe you will. Who knows what you’ll do? The night is young.
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A hand claps on his shoulder, causing Chris to tense briefly before he relaxes and turns his head to face Felix. The younger wolf smiles at the approaching bartender before telling her the orders that the Alpha didn’t provide before. “The whole reason to say you’ll order drinks is to actually, you know, order the drinks, man,” Felix speaks quietly, throwing a concerned look at the other. Chris looks like he’s suffering from a headache from the music but really, the ear-splitting volume isn’t the reason. “You coming back to the table?”
The both of them look over at the table in question and Chris’ upper lips curl, a low grow emitting from deep within his chest. The reason for the possible headache is smiling over at them, waving his fingers before looking around the room. He doesn’t know why he agreed to this, coming to a nightclub to have a serious talk like this but apparently, this is considered neutral ground. Being out of the territory and surrounded by humans would mean that they would all be on their best behaviours but that’s where they underestimate who they are dealing with – Minho doesn’t exactly have a ‘best behaviour’. Scheming, ruthless, and manipulative, Minho has always been good at getting himself into trouble, equally as good at getting out of it too, and this setting wouldn’t actually stop the wolf from causing trouble.
It’ll only stop all of them from starting a fight in a place where hunters could be lurking.
“You could ease up on the alcohol, you know,” Chris says pointedly, helping Felix grab the drinks placed in front of them. It’s not unusual for Felix to be with him since he is the second in command but Felix isn’t a warrior. He was never trained to be a fighter like the betas usually are, he’s smart, and fast but he’s more of a gentle soul. The only reason Felix is with him tonight and not someone like Changbin is because there is too much bad blood between Minho and the other betas and Chris is reducing the drama as much as he can tonight; they might not have a blast but they can get through it alive at least. “Now,” Chris clears his throat when they both approach the table, placing the drinks down before taking a seat and leaning back into the worn black leather. Folding his arms over his chest, he looks at the former pack wolf, eyes narrowing slightly, “We’ve had a few drinks, what the fuck do you want?”
Minho acts like he has all the time in the world as he grabs his drink, ignoring the question while taking a sip. It’s obvious that he’s exerting his freedom, showing he doesn’t have to respond to the Alpha if he doesn’t want to. However, when Minho finally speaks, Chris is sure that he’s had too many drinks to be serious. Alcohol doesn’t affect wolves the same way that it does humans, supernatural healing allows them to filter out the effects faster so it takes a lot to get them drunk but there is no way he said something that fucking insane without being drunk. Chris snorts while Felix coughs into his glass before looking as dumbfounded as the older. “Shall I repeat myself?” Minho says calmly, looking over the rim of his glass at his former Alpha, “I. Want. To. Challenge. You.” Each enunciated word sounds as ridiculous as the first time he said it.
“Are you fucking brain dead? You can’t be serious?” Chris laughs shortly in disbelief.
Minho remains perfectly at ease as he places his glass down, his eyes flash for a moment that has the other two tensing up, “Deadly.” It’s almost like he’s certain he’s going to win, like there is absolutely no way that he could lose. “You’re unmated which means that the leadership of the pack will eventually be up for grabs so why not take my chances early?”
“So you think that you can challenge me now and fucking take over?” His jaw clenches so hard that it feels like his teeth could almost shatter from the tension. “I have a while before I need to worry about–”
“You avoid every mating ceremony, even wolves without packs attend those. Word gets around. The great Christopher Bang refuses to take a mate. Stubborn as fucking always, Chris. You know that having a mate makes us stronger.” Minho knows the right buttons to push, he knows the reasons why Chris won’t accept a mate, and like the master manipulator that he is, he’s using it against him.
For what reason, nobody but he knows.
“Is that what it did for you?” He bites back, his jaw ticking as his hand nearly crushes the glass he’s holding. It’s a shitty comment to throw back at him; Minho was happy when he had his mate and what happened wasn’t his fault at all, it was something nobody could have known would happen, but Chris couldn’t help himself.
He thought that Minho might lose it, might find that stab as painful as the day his mate died and give them away, just so he could have a good reason as to why he wouldn’t accept the challenge but he’s only left disappointed. There’s a flash of gold in Minho’s eyes before he closes them to take a deep breath, settling himself back into the calm state like before. “You can try and get out of this, Chris, but the only way that you can secure your hold is by either accepting the challenge and winning or by finding your mate.” He turns his head as if he is looking for something, maybe someone, eyes scanning the crowds around them, but really, he’s looking for a reason to leave. “You have until the end of the week, Alpha, and if you haven’t decided by then – I’m going to take this to the next meeting.”
With that, Minho gets up and makes his way towards the door, pushing his way through people with Chris glaring after him. “That fucking asshole!” Chris growls deeply, drinking the entire contents of his glass before slamming it back down as he takes deep, heavy breaths. “He’s doing this to start a damn war.”
“Well, don’t let him.” Chris can tell that Felix has somehow gotten distracted, his attention barely on his Alpha and the meltdown he’s currently having but on the two women that Minho is now talking to. The interaction has both of the wolves’ hackles raised as they watch from their seat as Minho leans in close to whisper something in the shorter woman’s ear. “She looks… God, look at her.” He whispers, more to himself than to Chris and it takes everything in him not to snap at the beta for whom he thought Felix was looking at, talking about, thinking of.
It would make sense, right? Felix has been bringing her flowers, talking to her, and giving her a good image of himself, so good that she’s always asking about him. When is he coming back? How is he doing? Did he like last week’s order? Fuck, it drives him crazy that she’s clearly more interested in his beta but it drives him insane that he’s even caring about something like that. 
Why wouldn’t Felix like her? She has this air about her that is captivating, even if she isn’t aware of it. She’s beautiful, more beautiful than the peonies Felix has been gifting her. She captures attention with her smile, brighter than the sun, and it makes Chris want to be the reason for such a sight. He wants to be the reason she laughs, a contagious little laugh that makes his own lips curl in response. This woman is the flame and the wolves are the moths that are attracted to her and why wouldn’t they be? Especially now. Fuck sakes, she looks–
“Shit.”
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When you walked into the club, arms intertwined with Serena’s, the last thing you expected was some scarily handsome man coming up to you and striking up a conversation. He totally lucked out in the gene pool, his features similar to the men on the covers of her favourite books and that smirk on his lips really does something to her. You are aware that you’ll attract attention tonight because you dressed to impress but hitting the jackpot like this before even stepping onto the dance floor and showing what you’ve got to offer? That’s some type of lottery luck that you don’t think you have.
Serena keeps your arms interlocked as this man talks to you, acting a little too friendly for her liking. Isn’t it strange that he was heading for the door, clearly wanting to leave but all of a sudden, he’s suddenly happy to stand and chat? You clearly don’t have the same mistrust and thought process as your sister but that is because you did drink significantly more and are more susceptible to the sweet compliments he pays. “I’m so sorry for the mistake, doll, I honestly thought you were in my class last year.” He says after a while, pretending that his friendliness was due to him thinking you were someone he knew, “I swear we have met before.”
“Maybe!” You giggle, covering your mouth with your other hand, “maybe you’ve seen me in your dreams~.” The comment is only meant to be a joke, a little flirtatious comment said offhandedly and not meaning anything at all but his eyes darken slightly.
Leaning in, his hand rests on your waist to keep you close enough for him to whisper in your ear. You shiver slightly, the alcohol confusing your fear for excitement, while Serena tenses at his closeness. Clearly, one of them is thinking about the intentions of this stranger. “Little lamb, I would be very careful about whose dreams you choose to wander into~. You never know what’ll happen in them.” 
Blinking, confused, you laugh slightly to cover up the feeling of uncertainty about whether he just flirted with you or if he had threatened you. Surely not the latter, right? You don’t know him, why would he threaten you like that? However, there’s no time to ask or linger on the thought since the stranger is bowing politely and bidding you both goodnight, leaving without waiting for a response and causing you to watching him go.
What a strange interaction. Did he mean that the dreams could be spicy? That has to be it, right? Surely, he didn’t threaten you…
Your sister pulls you towards the bar and your head turns back to the door for a moment, running it through your mind briefly before shaking your head. He’s a fish that’s gone back into of fish, there’s no need to waste time thinking about a failed catch – there’s plenty more to lure in and hook. “What a weirdo,” Serena grumbles under her breath as she waves her hand to catch the attention of the bartender.
You nod slightly, “Yeah…” Immediately, the encounter is gone out of your mind as the DJ starts to play your favourite song, almost like everything is telling you to not focus on what happened and focus on what could happen. “Oh my God!” You squeal, turning to Serena and giving her arm a tug, “Come and dance with me!”
Out of the two, you have always had the passion for dancing, originally you wanted to be a ballerina before your parents pushed you towards a career choice that would ‘actually make money’. Serena never really had the same excitement as you did so while one practices and takes classes in her spare time, the other has two left feet.
Brushing you off, Serena shakes her head which has you whining slightly before looking out to the dance floor longingly and then back to the bar before the decision is made. “You know what I want!” You kiss your sister’s cheek, “I’m going to dance! Come find me when you have our drinks!” You dash towards the crowd, narrowing missing the way that two men are watching you and Serena with curiosity and interest.
It's not unusual for you to rush off, especially when you’re drunk. You have always lived your life a little more carefree than your older sister, even while you were studying hard in university, you never sacrificed your social life for sleepless nights in the library. Healthy and balanced lives keep you mentally sane – that’s what you would tell Serena whenever the older worked herself too hard and you were dragging her out to have fun. Whenever the opportunity came to let loose, to go out and do something crazy, you never failed to take the chance with both hands simply to see where the night would end.
The night usually ended in someone’s bed but hey, at least they were cute!
Closing your eyes, you move in time with the music, letting your body move freely and the more into it you get – the wider your smile becomes. You don’t notice the bodies around you, anyone who might be too close to you because everyone is doing exactly what you’re doing – living in their own world on the dance floor. A slave to the music, hypnotised by the atmosphere, you close your eyes and let your body move however the beat wants it to. You don’t notice when a firm body presses against your back, calloused fingers ghosting over your hips, not touching but close to, the tease of the connection has you leaning against him and allowing the stranger to pull you closer, moving in time with you.
The anonymity of the strong body behind you keeps your eyes closed as you raise your hands to wrap around behind his neck, head resting against his shoulder, tilting to the side as you can feel his hot breath against your neck. You can feel electricity rushing through your veins where he’s touching you and it’s like you’re one, bodies moving in time with each other. His large hands hover over your wrists as you bring them down before your fingers intertwine and wrap around your stomach to keep you against him. Everything in your body is alive with a fire that you’ve never felt before, so sensitive as his fingers trace as light as a feather over your body, having you react in ways that shouldn’t be so easily pulled with such little effort. It is like he knows every string to strum, a musician knowing how to play you with a skill that should take a lifetime to master, not seconds, and you’re merely the willing instrument wanting to sing for him.
Soft pillowy lips rest on your pulse and you instinctively give more access, wanting to feel the pressure even if it’s for the briefest of moments. The world no longer exists, your name unheard over the music because all you can focus on, all you know in this moment is your stranger. Nothing else matters, nothing but him, you, and this feeling blossoming within you.
A growl erupts from those lips, so tantalisingly close, and vibrates through his chest before the warmth that you feel, the firmness of his muscles against your back, and the moment that you’re wrapped in is gone and you take a while to fully realise that it has left.
“What…?” You blink, opening your eyes a little too late to catch his retreating back push through the crowd, towards the door. It takes another second longer to figure out where you are before you see Serena, waving at you from a booth with your drink getting warmer by the minute. Running your fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face, you let out a sigh of disappointment and head over to your sister, hoping that she saw the man that you were dancing with. “Did you—”
She must have known exactly what you were thinking because Serena shakes her head, making you pout as you dramatically plop down in the seat next to her. “No, when I saw you dancing, his head was lowered to your neck, it looked like he was kissing it.” You subconsciously rub the spot where you had felt his lips, faintly feeling a tingle there, before reaching for your drink and consuming almost half the glass. “I couldn’t see his face but from the size of him, he would have been your type. What happened?”
You think about it for a moment, trying to remember what exactly happened but the moment you felt him against you, everything blurred together and you couldn’t even figure out what was going on. You were alone, he was there for what felt like a magical moment, and then you were alone again. Shrugging, you groan and bury your face into your hands. Seriously? He could have been the perfect man to break your dry spell with and now you’re not going to be able to even think about anyone else because you’ll be too busy dreaming about what it would have been like to be broken by what felt like a God.
“Of course, I’m going to obsess over this mystery man.” You grumble to yourself as you take a sip of your cocktail, staring out into the crowd as if you could catch a glimpse of him.
Tsk, what crappy luck.
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“What-”
“Shut it.”
“Chris, wow, she was-”
Felix’s back meets the brick wall with Chris’ nose almost touching his, the younger is now on the tips of his toes thanks to the hold he’s in. The older wolf is breathing heavily, almost like he’s gulping down the outside air to get rid of her scent. “Don’t fucking say it, you hear me? Don’t even think it. If you say anything to anyone about what just happened then I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to you.” The image is vivid and Felix nods before Chris shoves away from him and storms off in the direction of the car.
Chris doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about her. He doesn’t want to think about the way she looked, the way she smelled, oh, the way she could have tasted. The last thing that Chris wants to think about right now is her, especially when his body is coiled and ready to stalk back into that club so that he can drag her out. Kiss her. Claim her.
Do everything that he’s refused to do.
Chris has been talking to her, has been in the same space as her a few times now, and never, not once, had he thought about her afterward… Well, actually, that’s a lie, isn’t it? He has thought about her but it wasn’t anything serious, just a few thoughts here and there. Sure, he couldn’t get her scent out of his system whenever he was there but that’s because it was always mixed in with the bakery. How could he get rid of it when he would be surrounded by it the moment he walked into the bakery and then had it linger on the packaging that she’d give him? There’s no other reason as to why he can pick it up anywhere he’s been, not one… Fuck! He should have known it from the moment he saw her, from their first conversation, he hated the way that she was so taken by Felix and his angelic sweetness; he should have known but the Alpha was far too preoccupied with everything else going on that it just didn’t register.
It all hit him like a fucking freight train when he saw her tonight though. The way her outfit fit her perfectly, making her look like one of the delicious treats her sister makes so well, something to be savoured, tasted only with the finest palate because everything about her is perfection and deserves only the best. Try as he might, Chris could not deny the overwhelming jealousy that had reared its ugly head when Minho stopped to talk to her – which got even worse when Chris could pick up on his scent still lingering on her skin when he got close.
It still bothers him actually. It bothers him that out of all the people in the club, Minho somehow managed to single her out and spoke to her – despite how he clearly made her sister feel. She seemed to have a normal reaction, a reaction that a prey would have around a predator because something in the back of their mind knows that danger is close, that a monster, a killer, is nearby… would she think that about him?
She didn’t seem to have the same reaction that her sister did, she didn’t recoil from him but instead flashed the prettiest smile until he said something that wiped it from her soft lips…
Jesus, fuck, he needs to stop thinking about her.
Chris shakes his head, refusing to let those thoughts continue their rampage on his mind. He’s thinking about Minho speaking to her and what purpose he had for it, not thinking about how she might have felt or marvelling at her beauty.
Damn, Chris, get your head on straight.
It’s like Chris couldn’t keep himself away from her when she walked onto the dance floor; she had walked right past him and didn’t even notice him but it honestly didn’t matter because he was zoned in on her. So much so, that when her body started moving so flawlessly, she was a siren and Chris was nothing more than a helpless sailor diving into the deep to answer her call. Of course, he lies to himself about how he didn’t want to touch her right away, he didn’t want to claim ownership right then and there even though… his wolf knows that he wanted to. He knew that he couldn’t claim her right there, that she needed to come to him, to open up to him, accept his advances for him to cave, and when she did – everything clicked into place.
He never thought it would feel like that. He never thought that someone could feel like an extension of himself but now that he knows… How can he possibly forget that feeling?
She’s going to be his downfall, his destruction, and fuck, he doesn’t know whether he actually wants to fight it.
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Anyone would think that Chris realising that this woman is his mate would mean that he’d dote on her, that he’d go out of his way to make her day better.
No. Oh, lordy no.
Despite how much his body is drawn to her, no matter how badly his wolf calls for her in the back of his mind, the Alpha refuses to give in to the pull of his mate and since she isn’t aware, sweetly oblivious to the supernatural world and werewolves, it makes it easier for him to remove the obstacle. Well, the easiest way to get rid of her, to stop their paths from crossing, would be to stop ordering those delicious treats from the bakery, to stop going and collecting them for the chance to see her, but Chris refuses to be weak.
He is also an idiot who seems to not understand that always doing things the hard way isn’t going to get him ahead.
Fighting a mate bond, even one that hasn’t been established, is one of the stupidest things a wolf can do. Even if they reject their mates, a wolf will always feel that bond because it’s predestined, something that really isn’t within their control but who is going to tell him that?
“You’re coming with me.” Chris orders, turning to look at Felix who is sitting next to him in the car. He was stopping to pick up his order before they had to go and see one of the visiting Alphas; Chris has decided that he’s going to keep placing this order because, after today, the sweet scented woman will never want to see him again and he can move on with his life. It’ll be easy after this, in and out, or he can send Felix – an idiot’s plan but what is he? He can’t reject her, that wouldn’t really work and the Alpha knows that so he needs to make sure that their paths cross as little as possible, don’t let her become more of a temptation than she already is, and there’s one way that he can do that.
He just needs to make her look and feel like a fool. 
Ever since day one, he’s allowed her to believe that Felix was him, he’s played into it the entire time because while he hated the way that her smile would light up whenever she spoke about the beta – it meant that he could pretend that she would smile whenever she talked about him too. A smile so contagious that his own lips curl up as he thinks about it until he remembers why he’s here.
Chris knows that this would make her dislike him, hate him even, because while he hates the cursed apps and is often teased for being a dinosaur – he found her dating profiles the other day. On accident, or so he says. He had read it and found out her name, her age, and her Instagram, something he also decided to check out and spent way too much time looking at. He researched this woman, his destined mate, Y/N – that’s your name and during his research, Chris managed to find out that not only did you dislike it when men didn’t make the effort to make plans, you also hate when people pick on and tease other people.
You’re so soft, so sweet, fuck, you’re everything he isn’t. Isn’t it perfect? He can be everything you hate and that would be enough for the bond to remain as a faint tug in the back of his mind. The more he ignores it, the more you stay away from him, the easier it’ll get and he can carry on with life as he always has.
“Let’s go.” He grumbles, getting out of the car and slamming the door a little too aggressively while Felix throws him a look of concern. The younger wolf knows that something is going on but because Chris isn’t going to open up and tell anyone what it is – he goes along with it even if he can tell that his Alpha is on edge.
Not… bad. No, it’s not like how he is when Minho is around or whenever Chris is pulled into a meeting with the other Alphas. There’s just something there, lurking beneath the surface, that has Chris’ jaw tense and fingers flexing at his sides like he’s ready to fight.
“Hello, welcome to- oh!” Your voice raises an octave when you realise who has walked into the bakery, “You’re early! Chris! Hey!” Chris tries to avoid looking at you directly, which would be funny if this was any other reason but he just knows that the moment he sees your smile, the smile that makes your eyes sparkle like they hold all the stars within them, he will lose his resolve to do this.
He can’t. He needs to do this. You are not made for this world and besides, he doesn’t want a mate, he’s never wanted a mate and because of that – it’s better this way.
Felix is already at the counter, chatting away to you while Chris takes a deep breath and pushes down all the guilt that bubbles up in his throat, reminding himself that this is for the best. If he tells himself enough, he may convince his wolf to believe it. His eyes meet yours as if you were waiting for him to look at you, and a cocky smirk spreads across his lips as he makes his way over to the counter. Leaning against it, getting close, Chris looks you up and down before holding your gaze, “Say my name again, sugar.”
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“Say my name again, sugar” It takes you a moment to register what he has said because you’re still confused about how quickly he just changed up. One minute it looked like he didn’t want to be there, like he didn’t want to get anywhere near you which was strange. You have never had a man actively avoid you like that except your ex in university who had fucked up so badly that being anywhere near you would have resulted in bodily harm. The man had been hanging back, avoiding your eyes, not engaging with you in any way but now?
You blink a couple of times and look at the man who you think is Chris, tilting your head like he might give you some insight about what is going on but he’s now avoiding looking at you, looking guilty. While you do not know these men outside of the few interactions you’ve shared with them in the bakery – you can tell that something is going on and you’re the only one not privy to what it is.
“C’mon,” the man folds his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you as if you’re not understanding him. He must know that this is so out of the left field, right? He must know that anyone would be confused by the way he’s going about this because he couldn’t have switched up that quickly… could he? You don't actually know this man, you don't even know his name so judging him based on the small interactions they’ve had in the past is a mistake when he could be the complete opposite. “You seem like a smart woman, surely you’ve figured out my name by now.” It’s a statement, not a question, implying you should know.
You look at him, brows furrowed in confusion, before shaking your head and taking a small step back. “No?” You answer slowly, drawing out the sound of the word. “You’ve never told me your name.”
There’s a glint behind his eyes, as if he’s seen a weakness in you that he can now exploit and his lip curls up into something that’s more like a sneer than a smirk. “Who is the order for, sugar?”
“Christopher Bang.” You answer in the same confused tone, looking over at ‘Chris’ for help with this questioning but the man is looking like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. His hands are playing with the front of his shirt while his blonde locks fall into his eyes as he looks at the other man. Whatever is going on, he wishes he didn’t have to witness it and that doesn’t bode well for you.
The man nods his head, continuing with his game. “And who is Christopher Bang?”
“Ch-” The blonde is about to say something but a warning growl rumbles through the other’s chest and he shuts his mouth quickly, looking down while chewing his bottom lip. This raises more alarm bells in her head, the type that should warn you to back away before you fall into the trap set up by the predator before you.
“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice not sounding as strong as you want it to be. You don't want to play whatever weird game he’s trying to get you to participate in. You were actually excited to see the both of them but now, you just want him to get his shit and leave. You may be sweet, you may be the softest petal on a rose but you tire quickly of the games men play. If you aren't going to let your ex make a fool of you then you’re not going to let a stranger play with you.
Shaking his head and clicking his tongue almost in disappointment, the man meets your eyes, looking amused out of all things. “I’m asking the questions, sugar, be a good girl and answer them.” Okay, who the fuck does this man think he is? “Who is Christopher Bang?” You look over at the blonde as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world and he scoffs, “and why do you think that?”
You originally had thought that he was nice, hot actually, maybe you had even been working up to asking for his number or flirting to see if he would be interested in the slightest. He looks like he was plucked out of one of your books and dressed like the guy you should avoid but secretly has a heart of gold. Sadly, he’s just radiating the same energy your ex has now and while the switch up is extremely confusing – it’s also extremely disappointing.
Your shoulders rise in a shrug, “because–” Because what? You made the assumption that he was Chris because he always came and grabbed the order so when things changed and someone else collected it, you just went along with it. You were never corrected whenever you spoke about ‘Chris’, you were never told that this man wasn’t who you thought he was and that Chris was in fact someone else. You had made an assumption based on the limited information that was given and was led to believe that you were right because nobody said otherwise.
Oh, those bells are screaming now.
The realisation must have become clear on your burning red face since the man questioning you begins to laugh as you piece it all together. You bite you tongue, unable to curse him out since he’s a customer in the store. As much as you want to, you can’t yell at him and cause a scene but oh, do you really want to do it. You’re sure that if you did, Serena wouldn’t tell you off… maybe… maybe all you have to do is say that he’s been playing you for a fool and your older sister will give him a piece of her mind too. You’re screaming in your head at all the scenarios playing in your mind about how he must have been finding this so entertaining, silly girl on the counter, thinking he was someone else.
God, you must have sounded so stupid!
Asshole!
Bastard!
God, you hate very little things in this world but one of the things that make you angrier than finding out that your ex was cheating on you, is being made to feel like you’re an idiot. You know you look like you’re just a pretty face, someone too sweet and soft for their own good and yes, you’ve had people take advantage of your kindness but you are not a fool. You’re smart, you’re stronger than you look, and having people rub your mistakes in your face like you should have known better when anyone could have done the same – enrages you.
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes for a moment before looking back at him with as much disdain as you can muster while simultaneously smiling. A forced smile, that much is obvious. Chris, now you can put a name to the face, might think that you’re some kind of fool but you aren't going to let him use this against you or laugh at you like you’re stupid. You refuse to allow this insignificant man to hold something like this in his grasp and wield it like a sword; you’ve dealt with worse men in university, hell, you dated worse men than him. The type of men who view you as someone who is easily torn down, naïve, a target to poke at whenever you make mistakes but you’re not weak, you’ve changed. You refuse to be that girl over something like this so you’re not letting him see that it bothers you but you do allow him to see the icy glare that you’ve perfected over the years.
“Here’s your order.” You say through your grin, boxing everything up and pushing it towards him. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of an answer, he can keep waiting for that.
Holding out your hand for the card, telling him the total, you wait to get this over and done with but it seems Chris isn’t finished playing. Just because you don't want to be a part of the game that he’s decided he’s won, for some reason, he still wants to play. “Check the name on the card next time,” he smirks as he places his card in your hand, both of you clutching it while staring at each other for a brief moment. Daggers are being shot from your softer eyes while his darker eyes narrow slightly as he lets out a soft scoff and releases the card. “Next week, I want this order doubled since I’ll be entertaining guests.”
He is just like your ex. Gross.
Rolling your eyes as you type the numbers into the machine and finish paying, you hand the card back to him, “You can make that order online. As you always do.”
“I’m telling you now, you can put it in for me.”
“Sorry,” you smile falsely, “that’s not my job. You can put it through the system properly.” Honestly, you could take the order now and do it for him, you’ve done it many times before whenever someone calls up and orders but since he’s pissed you off, no, he doesn’t get to boss you around like he owns the place. Seriously, who does he think he is?
As if on cue, Serena walks through the doors and looks at the three of them with a questioning brow raised. She had heard parts of the conversation and wanted to make sure you weren't being harassed by the customer. “Sugar,” she says the pet name with an inclination of her head, indicating for you to come with her. “I need your help in the kitchen before we close up, are you alright to come and give me a hand?”
You are thankful that Serena waits and doesn’t leave you with the walking asshole and his suddenly quiet, nameless friend. “If that’s everything,” you mumble, no polite lilt to your voice, no smile that reaches your eyes, just a simple bow of your head as you walk away with the two men watching you go. You shake your head when walking past Serena, not wanting to talk about it right now before pushing through the doors and the moment you’re out of Chris’ view, you scream. You don't care if he hears you, you don't care if he never comes back, you need to get it out before you explode.
“Ugh! What a DICK!”
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Chris chuckles when he hears you scream, the sound so loud that even if he was human, he’d have heard it loud and clear. Grabbing the food, he strolls out of the bakery with your curses and insults following after him. Felix walks beside him, looking back at the store but doesn’t bother to say a word until they are both in the car, food placed safely in the back seat.
He can tell that the younger is mulling over his words, the steam is almost coming out of his ears. “What is it, Lix?”
“Did you really have to go that far?” This is the exact question Chris is almost asking himself as it settles into his mind that he has effectively, even if unknowingly, pushed a button that his mate hates enough to name him public enemy number one. He knows he didn’t need to push you that far, that he could have just avoided you and your sweet scent for the entire time that you remained in his town, on his territory, but he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk you smiling at him on the street and Chris forgetting where he was, he couldn’t risk you being near him and Chris wanting nothing more than to feel your skin under his fingertips. Chris may not have needed to go to such an extreme but he did have to do something that would mean you’d avoid him as equally as he’s going to avoid you.
Did he really have to go that far? “Yes.” He says gruffly, the good mood he just had dissipating as he starts the car and heads towards the pack house.
Felix doesn’t say a word, he knows better than to question Chris even if he feels like he’s doing the stupidest shit ever. Chris, while not known to often be doing dumb shit, likes to think that everything he does is for a reason. Any action that would be considered personal always seems to cause him some kind of pain but whenever it comes to actions that involve the pack – he never falters in what is before for them. Except now. As much as Chris will argue it, even if the beta won’t bring it up as a way to avoid his Alpha snarling at him and telling him to walk home, Felix knows that Chris finding and accepting his mate is what is best for the pack in so many ways.
First off, it’s no secret that the dude needs to get laid.
The other reason is because wolves are stronger with their mates, werewolf or not, there’s this connection between them and their mates that seems to heighten everything about them. A wolf will find their mate’s attention and care to be healing, having them close makes them stronger and when it comes to the future of the pack – a pup born from a mated couple is blessed by the Moon Goddess. It’s why a lot of the current pack is the way it is because Chris’ parents – mates themselves – made sure to encourage the rest of the pack to find their counterparts.
Everyone does it, and everyone is willing to accept it – except the current Alpha himself.
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“Are you sure?” Serena asks, watching you pace through the kitchen, hyping yourself up and giving yourself a not-so-quiet pep talk to get through the day. “It’s okay if you want me to go out and deal with him today.” She knows that this has really been getting to you over the past month and while you try to play it off like you’re okay – every interaction that you have with Chris causes you to scream in the walk-in pantry afterward. Honestly, if they had any mice in there, they definitely would have scurried away and moved out with how intense you had gotten.
Once a week would have been tolerable. Once a week would have meant that all she had to do was deal with Chris coming in and paying for his order before screwing your face up at him as he walked out the door. Once a week should have been all you would have to put up with but it seems this asshole of a man has decided that you need to see him more just to make it clear that you hate him. It’s like he’s a masochist and gets off on the sarcastic responses and cold glares you throw in his direction. Chris has his usual order which he always comes with Felix to collect now, the younger happily chatting away to Serena like a little puppy while Chris keeps saying shit that makes you want to strangle his perfectly biteable neck. He’s somehow decided though, once a week is not enough, and now Chris comes in randomly just because he’s ‘hungry’.
That’s a lie and you both know it.
He comes because he knows that it puts you on guard, it causes your entire body to react to him even when you try your best to ignore his presence and focus on the other customers in the store. You’re sure that he loves it, a Grade A asshole like what you dealt with in class, you can see the smirk on his stupidly plump lips whenever you stutter over certain words and throw daggers in his direction. Chris seems to have found a way to be able to get under your skin even when you try and tell yourself that he means nothing. He’s crawled under and hit every single nerve by simply existing and with every encounter, it messes with your head. Your dreams. Your reality basically because you’re sure that you see him even when you’re out and about.
You need to get this man out of your system before you become insane.
Serena has offered to take over, to deal with him instead but you refuse to seem weak, to run away when he’s clearly doing this as some weird dominance thing – not that it makes sense since you don't care about him. “I’m okay,” you nod your head, jumping up and down on the spot and shaking your hands to try and hype yourself up. Serena can’t help but chuckle at your antics and while there’s this big sister protective urge to deal with Chris, she finds it amusing. 
“This is really giving enemies to lovers, like those books you love to read.” She teases and you gasp in shock that Serena has actually listened to your ramblings about your recent reads – and horror at the suggestion. “I’m just saying!”
“Ew! No!” You shake your head, “no. This is not that! That is hot, sexy, ugh, their slow decline into falling in love while denying that it’s possible– no. He’s not even close to that!” Serena chuckles, humming like she believes you. “He’s not going to win this!”
“Sugar! This isn’t some competition that you can win?” She sounds surprised by your words even though she knows that you refuse, and always have refused, to be beaten by any man. Even after being cheated on, even after having text messages shared throughout your class, you had to come out on top out of spite. Your stubbornness is the reason why you managed to get through university and also making sure this store has been able to flourish in the way that it has.
“Sure it is,” you say as you stop moving and take a deep breath as if you’re about to step into the ring, “clearly he has his head so far up his ass that he thinks he means something. You see the way he walks in here? Like he’s some sort of king and everyone around him is his loyal servant who should drop to their knees and kiss his feet.” You scoff, snatching your apron off the hook and wrapping the strings around your waist to tie it at the back. “I’m not going to let him think that he’s getting to me. Nothing pisses men like him off more than giving back the same attitude that they give to others. He wants to play this game then it’s time to step up and play it better than he can.” You aren't someone who likes to be confrontational, a soft soul who prefers to take the gentle approach but sometimes even the soft ones are pushed to their breaking points.
Serena simply watches as you walk out the front, slightly speechless but mostly amused about the whole situation. There’s no point stopping you and honestly, it’s about time someone has caught your attention – even if it’s in the worst way because Serena has seen you look at those pictures on your phone of your ex that you haven't deleted yet.
Putting on your best smile, you greet the store, even when the man you were just talking about is standing in the store, a basket in his hand as he browses the freshly baked breads. “Good morning, welcome to ‘Everything Nice’.” You don't falter with your overly cheerful tone even if you weren't expecting to deal with him this early in the day. You had barely finished opening the store before heading into the kitchen so Chris must have been hanging around, waiting for that sign to switch from ‘closed’ to ‘open’.
Whatever, it doesn’t matter. He’s not getting another win today. Chris will not leave the store with another mark on the proverbial scoreboard against you. Today, you will claim a victory in this war even if it only adds fuel to the fire.
“You’re here early, Chris.”
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Why he’s here, he doesn’t know, or that is what he keeps telling himself every single time he enters the store. Chris tells himself that he’s doing this because he needs you to curse his very name, he needs to ruin every and any chance there could be for a bond to form. He could have just left it as it was when he dropped the bomb that day but for some reason, Chris finds himself heading to ‘Everything Nice’ more than he cared to before.
You need to hate him.
He needs to make sure that you hate him.
The food is good.
You smell better than the food.
He just wants to make sure you’re doing okay…
Even though Chris tells his lies to himself and everyone around him, it boils down to the fact that he is the cause of your negative emotions and it has him wanting to make sure that you’re okay. Even when he says things that only cause the fire behind your soft eyes to burn brighter, even when he doesn’t stop himself from acting like a royal ass, Chris needs to be around you even when he’s trying to avoid you.
Unsuccessfully avoid you.
The moment that he sees you walk out in his peripheral vision, it seems like every nerve in his body becomes alive and alert which pushes his own buttons because he’s trying so fucking hard not to respond to you, and yet, his body betrays him. Hearing your voice, the way you’re feigning kindness makes the wolf smirk as he walks over and leans against the counter, meeting your glare head on. “I heard that the bread is even more delicious when freshly baked so I thought I’d grab some to take home for lunch.”
You hum, nodding your head like you care about what he has to say but he can see the temptation to roll your eyes lingering just behind those pretty eyelashes. Fuck, he shouldn’t want to count them, watch them fall softly against your cheeks as you fall asleep in his arms. With the way his thoughts are going, he has to try his best not to give in right then and there when you lean closer. “So you decided to grab it right when the bakery opened?”
Oh, he hears that tone, and hell, he shouldn’t feel proud learning that there’s a fighter underneath all those times you took his shit. He knew you had it in you and now seeing it? Makes you more attractive.
“To be one of the first customers of the day to grab fresh bread? I have a tendency to be the first in everything I do.” He says with an upward quirk of the corner of his lips, the words having a double entendre which you don’t seem to catch onto – or if you do, you don’t show it.
“Mhm, good for you, the bread is over there, Chris. Not here.” You point to the other side of the store before going to the viewing window to grab some fresh baking that Serena has put on the sill.
His jaw ticks slightly as he realises that he’s not going to get the fight that he wants from you. He expected you to get a little more worked up than this but instead, you are effectively brushing him off like an insolent child and Chris refuses to be treated like that. Even if that’s how he’s been acting. Heading over to the bread, he watches as you carefully place the fruit tarts on a tray and slides them into the chilled cabinet sitting under the counter. “What do you recommend?” You pretend not to hear him, humming softly to yourself as Chris chuckles before loudly clearing his throat and asking his question again when you look at him.
A deep sigh leaves your lips, a dramatic rise and fall of your shoulders shows that you’re not really hiding your reactions to his annoyances. You don’t move from your spot, simply looking over at him as you point in the general direction of the bread. “The bacon and cheese pull apart bread is one of our best sellers. You can warm it up and have it with some butter – it doesn’t need anything more than that.”
“What’s your favourite, sugar?”
The use of your nickname, even if he doesn’t know it is, causes you to pause and narrow your eyes ever-so-slightly. You raise an eyebrow, clearly wondering what his angle is, and Chris shrugs nonchalantly, “People tend to speak highly of the things that they like. So, sugar, what is your favourite?” He watches, examining the way that you contemplate answering truthfully before pulling your mask back down and shaking your head, “wonderful customer service.” A low blow and he knows it, he’s the one pushing, being an ass, and you’re simply trying to do her job. “First, you don’t even know my name and have been giving my order to someone else, then you ignore me unless you have to talk to me, and now,” he shakes his head, folding his arms over his chest and he swears he can feel the daggers you’re throwing at him with your eyes. “I’m simply asking a question and you aren’t going to answer it?”
He can faintly hear you grinding your teeth together from where he stands, watching as you try to control yourself but Chris can also hear your heart racing in your chest, the deep breaths that you take – all it’ll take is one more push. If he pushes a little further, he might be able to get you to snap…
“Oh, what about how you were talking shit about me, a loyal customer, while I was in the store?”
Your eyes widened and your cheeks heated up because it was obvious that you didn’t think you were so loud that Chris would have been able to overhear every single word you had said. You weren’t actually, you had managed to contain herself quite well except for that one time, but you didn’t need to know the specifics, right? It would only take away the fun of the tease if you knew that Chris is a werewolf with supernatural hearing.
Grabbing a loaf of the bacon and cheese bread, because that actually does sound pretty delicious and the smell of the bacon is making him salivate, Chris walks to the counter with the basket of food that he’s collected. “So, what do you have to say for yourself, hm?” He says in a mocking tone, sounding like a father reprimanding his child.
“What?” You ask, shocked he would talk to you like that. Your shock fades almost immediately and you scoff, folding your arms over your chest, and glare pointedly at him, “Do you want an apology or something?”
Humming, Chris smirks with a nod, “Sure, if you don’t mind, sugar~.”
Opening your mouth as if you were about to answer, Chris is left disappointed when you close it again and begin to pack up the food. “Your order won’t be ready until later today but if you would like, your friend Felix can come and collect it for you. Since I know who he is now, at least we both know it’ll reach you. Chris.” You pass over the bag and Chris takes it before you drop it, trying to avoid accidentally touching his hand at all costs.
“That won’t be necessary.” He smiles kindly, knowing it’s only going to annoy you even more, “I’ll be back at my usual time to collect.”
“Great.” You utter under your breath before finishing up with him and turning back to your work, while Chris heads to the car feeling like he had just won. Maybe it’s not a sweet victory like the previous times, this time you had given him a bit more of a push back but oh, seeing how you react when he’s close makes him feel victorious.
He should leave you alone now. He knows he should. There’s no reason for him to keep coming around now, especially since you obviously don’t want to see him. This should be it, this should be the end of it all…No, it will be. Chris nods as he sits in his car momentarily to remember your scent. He takes a moment to remember every small thing about you, even if you hate him now, he wants to remember all he can because today is the last day he steps foot into ‘Everything Nice.’
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You didn’t know it was going to be the ‘last time’ that you’d see him. You couldn’t have guessed that when he came back to collect his order that final time, everything in your life was about to change. You had no idea that Chris hanging around the bakery, annoying you, and pushing your buttons was actually the main reason why you were safe but also a target for something that you could never have prepared for.
All you want is to get him in and out as quickly as you can. The moment you see the man walk through the door, you are packing up his order and placing it on the counter before he can arrive. You’re focused, refusing to acknowledge any of his little quips that are about to come but it surprises you when Chris simply hands over his card without a single word. 
No quips, no mocking, nothing at all.
“Nothing to say?” You ask, unable to help yourself from starting a fight. You usually wouldn’t, you typically prefer to keep the peace but being so close to this man makes you want to fight without any reason to pick one. Swiping the card, you input the amount and push the machine towards Chris but instead of responding, he shrugs his shoulders without even glancing at you. You take the moment of silence to look him over, noticing that his posture is stiff, uncomfortable and there’s a tick in his jaw that is ridiculously too attractive for a man with his attitude. Everything about him right now is the opposite of the man who acted like he owned the place. He looks like he can’t wait to get out of there just as quickly as you want him gone.
But, that’s the problem.
You want him gone. You want him out and now that it looks like he does too, you want him to pick a fight. Nobody has gotten such a reaction from you since university, since your ex and you swore you wouldn’t resort to that type of low again…
“Are you really not going to say anything?” You pushed, your brow furrowed slightly in both annoyance and confusion. Chris spares you a look before letting out a breath that sounds like he’s been holding it the whole time; grabbing his order, he pauses for a moment like he’s about to say something but decided against it. He turns his broad back on you so he can leave and you scoff, shaking your head, hell no, you’re not letting him just walk away like this!
You move quickly from behind the counter, grabbing him by the bicep before he makes it to the door. “Let go.” Chris pulls his arm back with enough force to loosen your hold and goes for the exit before you can chase after him – it doesn’t mean you don't though.
Chris has barely made it a few metres from the store, clearly trying to get away as fast as he can before he halts due to you calling out his name. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t look over his shoulder. No, he simply stands in the street with his back to you while you speak. “After everything this morning, after everything these last few weeks, you’re really going to just… give up?” You sound so desperate, a whine to your voice that almost sounds pained and you can’t understand why. This is what you’ve been wanting ever since he started to act like a right ass but you can’t just let this go, not when it started out of nowhere and seems to have ended just as abruptly.
You need something more. An explanation. A reason.
Somewhere along the way, even though you refuse to voice it, you started to look forward to fighting with Chris. A sick little game being played that made you so mad but when life follows the same script every day – even a negative change can help you feel alive. Sure, he pisses you off and you’ll say you hate him but your life has been so quiet lately, mundane, following the same routine over and over again, and the fighting seemed to give you something that was different from your norm. Somewhere along the way, you had started to rely on the rush that you got every time you fought, just to feel something more than boredom.
God, you sound like you need to go to therapy.
While you and Chris are standing there, neither of you speaking, simply remaining in place, neither notices that you are being watched. You never expected to be watched so you wouldn’t have been keeping an eye out for it but Chris should have been aware of the attention that he was bringing you. Himself. Neither of you notice that there’s a small group hiding just out of plain sight and watching the way the Alpha is frozen, clearly struggling to leave his mate behind. You’re so unaware of the connection between you but yet, you can’t let him go.
A smirk spreads across a wolf’s lips, a snicker coming from the man next to him while the other blows out a lung full of smoke and tosses his cigarette onto the ground while scowling at the scene. “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice rough and gravely.
Minho nods, keeping quiet for a moment longer until Chris begins to walk away and you stand there, watching a little while longer before giving up and heading back inside, shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m positive. I didn’t know it when I met her at the club that night. Funnily enough, I thought she was Felix’s mate with the way that beta was always going to the bakery but it seems the Alpha was having his second in command act as a delivery boy.” The man moves out from the hiding spot that gives them the perfect view of the bakery, “Chris has been going there a lot more than he needs to. Knowing him, he’s reasoning with himself as to why he needs to be around her but clearly, he’s pushing her away.” The scene they just saw shows that Chris isn’t being overly accepting to his mate – which is what they had expected.
“As expected,” another rouge beta, Seungmin, says as he watches Chris’ car pull into traffic and head in the direction of the pack house. “He’s predictable, he always has been.” Seungmin had followed Minho out of the pack that day because while believed in Chris as an Alpha, he knew that the wolf’s stubbornness and refusal to change was going to be his downfall – and the pack’s.
The wolf that was smoking, a beta from another pack and one Chris had personal issues with for many different reasons, walks out from the shadows to stand beside Minho. He hums in thought, looking at the bakery while scratching his chin. A scar runs from his upper lip down the side of his face, his calloused hand running over it as he scratches. “Has he responded to the challenge?”
Minho snorts, “only to tell me to go and fuck myself.”
“He’s fucking insufferable,” the wolf growls, rolling his dark eyes. “When are the packs meeting again about the hunters? Tomorrow, right?” Minho nods, “Go to it and tell Chris he has until the next full moon. He either takes his mate or he takes the challenge.”
Seungmin counts the days in his head, tilting it as he looks at the older wolves, “why are we giving him a month to decide?” One look from Minho silences him but it doesn’t stop him from rolling his eyes in annoyance. He doesn’t understand why they are dragging this out when they could walk up to the pack house’s front door and challenge him now.
“All in good time,” the eldest speaks, giving a cruel smile and showing his fangs as he looks at you as you come out to check on the front of the store. “Everything will be revealed soon.”
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You want to say that after a few weeks without seeing Chris your disdain and dislike for him has started to simmer down and that you have started to forget about the arrogant son-of-a-bitch but no. How can it settle when you have to see Felix and be reminded about the way Chris embarrassed you and then continued to poke fun at such an easy mistake? It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had been a little teasing, a little prod, and a giggle when he had realised your mistake but instead, for an entire month, he allowed you to believe the sweet, freckled ray of sunshine was someone else and from the way that Felix looked uncomfortable that day, made him go along with it too.
That made it so much worse.
“Ah,” you rub your hand over your face in frustration as you sit down on your bed. You need to stop thinking about him, you want to stop but it seems that he’s gotten under your skin so bad that you’ve begun to obsess about him.
You look at the time and notice that you have about an hour before it’s time to think about dinner so you decide that you’ll go for a walk to clear your head. It’s been something that you’ve picked up since moving to this town because with all your friends living in the city and your life there being only accessible during the weekends, you have nothing better to do.
Well, you could read your books but that’s not fun when all you’re thinking about is him.
The town is pretty enough, the beach not that far from where you live, which means on nice evenings, you take your walk down there to enjoy the pretty golden sunsets before heading back home. It’s been getting better and even prettier to see as the days warm up and the spring slowly moves towards the summer.
So, with a gentle push up, you start to change into the cute lilac purple activewear that you’ve been wearing lately as it gives you enough mobility to run when you want to but also isn’t super heavy where you’re sweating too much. “Where are you going?” Serena asks, poking her head into your room when she hears all the movements. “Are you heading down to the beach?” You hum, stretching a little before heading towards her, “What time will you be back?”
Raising an eyebrow, you look at her suspiciously, “Why?” You ask, narrowing your eyes. You have an inkling that Serena has been going on dates and not telling you about it because she’s been a little bit secretive lately but you haven't asked. You may be close but you do like to keep certain things to yourselves and Serena’s dating life is one of the topics that are usually locked up in a vault.
“No reason,” she shrugs before making her way towards the kitchen where she already has dinner cooking, “I can leave yours in the oven if you’re not back in time.”
Simply humming in response, you give her a kiss on the cheek, “thank you”, before going to put your running shoes on and heading out the door. It takes you until you reach the bottom of the stairs to realise you’ve forgotten your headphones. “Oh-” you rush back to your room with Serena yelling after you about your shoes. “I’m just grabbing my headphones!” You shout back before running out on your tiptoes to try and minimise the amount of shoe touching the clean floor. “I’ll clean the floor tomorrow!”
With your playlist designed to get you energised blasting your favourite songs through your eardrums, you walk with purpose down the road, dancing to the choreography that you know and lip-syncing like you’re giving the world a concert. You love it when it’s like this, where you couldn’t care less about who is around you, like the world is yours to own and you don't need to be overly aware of what’s around you.
You love it but it does tend to make you blind to what’s coming.
Nothing could touch you when you’re walking like you have all the confidence in the world and it’s amusing to watch really, how there’s a little bounce in your steps, a word or two accidentally being sung with you realising too late and you go back to mouthing the lyrics with a passion. You do miss being in the studio, dancing your heart out, and performing on weekends but you haven't been able to find a space to facilitate that in town.
“Adorable.” Minho chuckles as he shoves his hands into his pockets and glances around before slipping off the path and making a shortcut through the trees so that he can get to the beach before you.
You’re unaware, oblivious to what dangers Chris has brought into your life and even if you were told, you wouldn’t really believe him anyway, especially not after everything. Maybe not ever unless you see it with your eyes.
Even then…
The beach starts to open up before you, the reeds and dunes making way for the large expanse of the clear blue sea and white sand. You take a deep breath and inhale the salty scent of the water that has become one of your favourite smells because it is so far removed from the smell of the city that you feel so revitalised and calm. Sure, you miss the city, the life and luxuries that you had there but there’s something about it here that feels so right and you love it. “Amazing,” you say to yourself before going to one of the large, sun-bleached tree trunks that have become popular seats for people who simply want to watch the rolling waves.
Taking your headphones out and placing them back into their case, you turn on the trunk and lie down with your eyes closed, listening to the sounds of pure peace around you. There are no families on the beach today, no sounds of children laughing or people shouting at their young ones to be careful while playing in the water – just the sounds of crashing waves and seagulls.
“Roman!” Your brows wrinkle when a man’s voice ruins your peace, “bad dog! Come back here!”
Your leg had been hanging over the side of the trunk and clearly, this man’s dog has decided that it needs to investigate who you are, sniffing the bare skin of your calf and causing you to sit up with a slight giggle. You're ticklish.
“Roman,” the name is said with a slight growl to his tone that has both the big, golden, shaggy dog and you looking at him, “get here!” He points at his side and the dog walks towards him with his tail in between his legs, making you pout softly.
Pushing off the seat, you smile kindly at the man who is looking sternly at his dog, “Hey, he’s okay. He’s just a curious boy trying to make a new friend.” You crouch down by the dog and hold out your hand, allowing him to come to you for a nice scratch behind the ears. “See,” your voice raises an octave, “you’re a good boy.”
When the owner gets close enough to pull the dog’s attention away from you, leashing Roman to keep him from running off again, you smile before something clicks in your brain. You’ve seen this man before, you’re certain of it, you can’t quite pinpoint it and it’s a little annoying but from the bells in your head and the smirk he wears – you know you’ve crossed paths before.
How come you can’t pinpoint it right away?
“He likes you,” the man says, catching your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts. “He’s not usually so friendly with new people.”
Chuckling softly, you smile sweetly, “You and me both, Roman.” Which is… not entirely true. You’re pretty friendly to everyone, that's the reason why your nickname is Sugar but you’ve always been a little hesitant to be fully open with people – especially after what happened.
Thanks to…
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” The man blatantly lies – not that you know that. “Do you come to the beach often?”
You’re a little cautious with sharing your comings and goings with a complete stranger so you just hum, giving him a tight smile, “now and again. It’s been nice lately so I couldn’t miss out on seeing it.” As you talk, a chill runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands up, usually a warning that you need to leave even if there aren't any obvious dangers.
There’s something about this guy that has you feeling slightly on edge and you can’t figure out why. You’re pretty intuitive and prides yourself on it most of the time, usually able to spot a problematic person from a mile away but lately, it’s been acting up so you don’t know if there’s really a reason – or if it’s just because you are alone and there’s nobody around.
As if Serena knows that you may need saving, your phone starts to ring and stops the conversation from going further. “Oh, I’m sorry. I have to take this.” The man backs away as you answer the phone, using the call as a good excuse to walk away while speaking, only looking back to smile and wave. “You have no idea how glad I am you are calling,” you say when you think that you’re out of earshot, glancing over your shoulder and moving quickly when you catch him still standing there and watching you leave. “No, no, I’m okay…” You’re not sure if you fully believe it since your blood is pumping through your veins and adrenaline is kicking in to move your feet faster back towards the safety of your home.
Serena stays on the phone the whole time until you walk in the door, “What is his name and what does he look like? I’m going to call the police.” You jump, caught off guard by her voice being louder than it was on the phone and also by how quick she is to involve the authorities.
“Oh my God, you don’t need to call the cops, Spice. He was harmless! It was just…” You sit down to get rid of your shoes, tossing them in front of you. “I don’t know. It was just weird.”
This causes the woman to go into a full rant about how men who are weird don’t just stare at people walking away from them, that’s what stalkers do and for all you know, he could have been following you for days until you were alone. Neither of you are aware of how right Serena is – or how close to it she’s actually getting with her accusations – because he has been studying your every move and now that Chris isn’t around to keep Minho away, he’s going to come back.
In a different way, he realised this when he watched you practically run away from him at the beach. Approaching you alone isn’t going to gain your trust like he wants, he wants you to feel comfortable enough to talk to him and the best way to do that is through the same method Chris used.
The bakery.
A game is about to be played, a game you aren't aware you’re going to be playing until it’s too late, and even if you somehow managed to figure it all out before their hand is shown, you’ll still be playing regardless.
You are the key piece.
You’re the piece that both sides need but only one can have.
You are either going to be Chris’ downfall or his salvation and since he’s taken himself out of the game, or thinks he has, you are now free for the opposition to claim.
To use.
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Chris leans back in his seat, straightening out the newspaper in his hands as he sips his morning black coffee. A sigh passes through his lips when he hears someone running into his house, “The rogues are here.” One of the betas says as they enter the dining room, bringing in mud from the outside on their shoes since they had been in too much of a rush to take them off. “There’s… Alpha Chris, there’s more of them than last time.”
This isn’t news to Chris or any of the other Alphas. Lately, the rogues have been teaming up. Nothing that could be considered a pack, or even compared to one, but definitely more than what they usually do. Minho and Seungmin have been collecting strays and bringing them around more and more, every time challenging Chris and posing empty threats.
Little does he know, soon, they won’t be so empty.
“Alpha?”
Chris hums, still looking at the newspaper and reading about an accident last night, “What?”
“Did you not hear what I said?”
Clicking his tongue, the wolf closes the newspaper and looks over at his beta, lips in a hard line. The younger wolf clearly recognises his expression as that of annoyance and from the bags under his eyes, exhaustion, since the rogues have been coming and going constantly. “I did.” He pushes away from the table and stands up, stretching with a groan and a couple of cracks since the morning is still too early for his body to want to be awake. “I’ve heard this far too often because it seems that these rogues don’t know when they’ve overstayed their welcome.”
He’s tolerated them for a while now, mostly due to him still missing two of his betas, but they are progressively getting more and more on his nerves. Especially when they’ve been trying to rally support from the other packs to try and use it as some kind of legitimacy to their challenge.
While there are some of the other Alphas who agree that Chris needs to take on a mate or accept the challenge, they all agree that it is ultimately up to Chris on the direction that he and his pack are going to take. “Though, if the next meeting comes around and you haven’t figured it out, we will make the choice for you.” Chris scoffs as he remembers one of the elder Alpha’s words. So much for agreeing it was his choice. Usually, they don’t like getting involved in how other packs are run but they will take action if they have to especially if there is cause for concern – apparently, rogues working together is enough of a reason for them to start getting nervous and poke their noses into Chris’ business.
As the Alpha walks outside, Minho at the head of the group of rogues who are all standing behind him, Chris notices something that does not match the scene. “I brought you something,” Minho smirks as he holds out the box of cupcakes that Chris knows far too well, the sweet smell causing his nose to twitch in response as if he’s trying to pick out your scent amongst the strong scent of strawberry icing.
Fuck, he’s missed that smell.
There’s a deep growl emitting from Chris’ chest, so deep, so guttural that everyone except Minho stumbles back a step as he stalks forward – though, he can tell by the shift in Minho’s scent that the younger is still smart enough to be intimidated by the Alpha.
However, clearly not smart enough to not taunt him.
“Why do you have those?” Chris growls, careful not to knock Serena’s hard work out of his hands and waste them.
Minho shrugs, opening the box and taking a cupcake out, taking his time to eat it in front of him. Chris could rip his throat out right then and there and he knows that, but with the audience that they now have, the older wouldn’t let his anger get in the way of his pride. “She’s cute, you know.” Minho says thoughtfully as he chews, “She thinks you’re a right fucking asshole and well, it makes her smart too, I guess.”
Chris grits his teeth, his eyes flashing gold as he holds onto his anger tightly but not enough that it doesn’t show through in minute ways. “What. Have. You. Done?” He enunciates the words through a tightly clenched jaw while Minho leisurely eats another cupcake.
From what Chris recalls, nothing has been going on in the little bakery, everything has been going just fine and there hasn’t been any unusual visitors coming and going but it seems that Minho has been able to be around you without Chris’ surveillance picking up on it. Yes, he is fully aware that he refused to go back to the bakery again but he didn’t ever say anything about making sure that you were left alone regardless of you knowing or not – you’re still his mate. He may not want to claim you but he won’t reject you either because… he simply doesn’t want to.
He refuses to explain further to anyone even himself, while it may not even work due to you being a human, he refuses to reject you because there’s a small, teeny tiny part of him that wants to be able to accept you. He wants you, every fibre in his body screams for you when he sees you from afar, his wolf growls darkly in the back of his head when he hears your name on someone else’s lips, and when he catches a whiff of your scent in any store he happens to walk into – fuck, he nearly goes out to search for you.
The longer he keeps himself away, the harder it is to resist you and that’s why he cannot be around you, as twisted as his logic seems to be.
The moment his hands are on you – you’re not leaving him ever again and that’s the excuse he’ll use as to why he cannot be near you. He cannot lock you into a life that he knows will only destroy everything that you have because what nobody seems to understand is that Chris won’t simply protect his mate – he will bring the world to its knees for you. This life isn’t as magical as books might make it seem, it’s surrounded by darkness and the last thing Chris would ever do is taint the light that he can feel residing within you with everything that goes bump in the night. He’d destroy it and himself to keep you safe.
Chris has known this ever since his first girlfriend, ever since he first fell in love, he would destroy anyone who dared to hurt her. His father had to tear a teenage Chris off a packmate when they had the audacity to scare his girlfriend at the time and thus began Chris needing to learn how to control himself better. He had to learn how to manage his anger, how to deal with his wolf’s more aggressive nature because training to be an Alpha is a hard journey and if he couldn’t contain his most primal behaviours as a teenager – he’d steer the pack into a dangerous future when he took over.
So, he did his best. While he’s not perfect, not by a long shot, he has a bad temper most of the time and he will absolutely throw the first punch – Chris tries his best to keep himself in check so he wouldn’t take the pack down the road that his parents feared he would.
Is it hard? Hell yes, but Chris is determined.
When Minho lost his mate, the reaction that he had, both confirmed and solidified the reason why Chris couldn’t accept his mate when he found them. If he would cave in the skull of a packmate for simply scaring his girlfriend when he was 16, what would he do to those who killed his mate? What lengths would he go to to avenge his fallen lover?
Would he be able to stop even after the war had been won?
No. He knows he wouldn’t be stopped unless he was killed and considering he’s a fucking good Alpha – he refuses to leave the pack without one… even if it means holding off giving the pack an heir.
“Minho.” Chris growls, getting in the other’s face when he doesn’t answer, “the fuck did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” the younger smiles, not averting his eyes from Chris’ as if he is challenging the Alpha. He’s not. Yet, at least. “You’ve left her unattended except for when your second goes and picks up the order you always keep. I was curious to know why you were so attached to that bakery and then I discovered a sweet little lamb called Sugar~.” He gives a wolfish grin, tilting his head. “It wasn’t exactly hard to figure everything out after that.”
Minho has known for a while but Chris doesn’t need to know that otherwise, it would throw off their entire plan. Sure, part of the plan isn’t to turn the entire pack against their Alpha but with the way that the pack is, he isn’t surprised that some of the wolves that have gathered around are intrigued by what he’s saying.
“Does she know?” Minho asks, a twinkle in his eyes showing that he’s loving this, the struggle of Chris keeping himself together. “Does she know what you are and what she is to you?” He can feel the rage rolling off Chris in waves, so strong that some of the wolves around him are responding, either by moving away from their Alpha or growling at those who are the cause of the problem. Looking around at the confused and curious wolves, Minho moves closer to Chris, closing any distance that they had between them, and bares his teeth. “Do they know that you’ve been hiding her?”
There’s silence, the sound of Chris’ heavy breathing is all that can really be heard as he tries his best not to tear his former friend’s throat out.
“When?” Chris grits the word out through tightly clenched teeth. “When the fuck do you want to do this?”
Pretending to think about it, Minho strokes his chin, humming for a moment before simply saying, “Next full moon. One month.”
Nodding once, Chris accepts. “You’ll stay away from her.”
Minho indicates for the other rogues to leave using a simple head gesture that causes them all to push past the pack that has surrounded them. They are greatly outnumbered but they weren’t here for a fight so it doesn’t really bother them if the others were trying to intimidate them by boxing them in, none of them have the same fire that Chris has. “No guarantees.” Minho says confidently, turning his back on Chris to leave with the others.
Chris watches, shoulder rising and falling with his shallow inhales, staring daggers into the back of Minho’s head until his view is blocked by Felix. He knows that everyone is going to want answers, answers that he’s not ready to give, not right now.
Was this part of Minho’s plan? What the fuck is his plan considering the other must know that he would not be able to win in a fight against Chris? No matter how strong Minho is, Chris has always been stronger and on a full moon – even greater so.
“Chris,” Felix pulls his attention away from the retreating rogues and back to his pack who are all waiting for answers.
“No.”
Felix grabs his arm to keep him from leaving and the younger nearly gets his hand broken for such an insolent action. “You can’t just leave after what just happened.” The others all mumble in agreement and Chris can feel a headache forming, “I had my suspicions but… you said she meant nothing.”
“You found your mate and didn’t tell us?” One of the other betas, Jaehyun, steps forward, looking pissed. “Seriously, Chris?” One warning growl from the Alpha has everyone stopping what they are saying or about to say but it doesn’t stop them from looking to him for an explanation, wanting to know he’s refused to take his mate when he’s found you.
“I did it for a good reason.” He says definitively, pushing past everyone even though he can still hear them muttering their disapproval of his actions and their disappointment in their Alpha.
Was this the whole reason Minho came here? There’s something sinister about what they have planned because Minho is one of the only people who knows why Chris won’t take a mate and yet, he’s pushing it. He’s even willing to turn the Alpha’s pack against him to force Chris into doing what he wants. Is that why he challenged Chris? Thinking that the older wouldn’t take the challenge in fear of losing everything?
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs as he walks back into the house and heads straight to his room to lie down and rest. There are far more questions than answers and with all the noise that’s going on and the minds he now needs to ease and explanations he has to give, Chris needs to rest before his head fucking explodes from all the tension that’s building.
He’s going to kill him, he thinks as his head hits the pillow, what for? Chris doesn’t know which reason he’ll use but he knows that if Minho continues down this dangerous path, one filled with mystery and games, Chris will have no choice but to kill him.
Even if he doesn’t want to.
He refuses to let a rogue best him, no matter whom it is and what they had meant to him once upon a time.
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You hear the doorbell chime and look up with your signature smile, laughing softly at the man who is walking into the store holding an iced coffee, smothered with whipped cream, just how you like it. “You are a quick study,” you basically skip out from behind the counter to meet him. “I’ve been dying all morning since I haven’t been able to have my sweet, sweet caffeine.”
Minho laughs, shaking his head at the way you nearly down the entire cup while you walk back to the other side, leaning against the counter and folding his arms over his chest. “You know, with the amount of coffee you drink a day, I’m surprised you aren’t breaking the sound barrier when you walk.” His teasing tone has you laughing loudly with him and pushing his arm before you sip it slower. “How has today been?”
You get to chatting about the day and how slow it’s been, only leaving his side whenever someone comes in to buy some food but he doesn’t mind, you’ve learned that he seems to enjoy the way you’ll smile at customers and get them to buy a little treat for themselves even if it is at a discounted price so that they can avoid having any wastage at the end of the day.
Minho, while strange at first with his habit of coming to the beach at the same time you did, has quickly become one of, if not your only, friends in this small town. He’s shown you some of the best places to get coffee and delivers it to you on days when you seem too tired to function, he’ll drag you out of the house and take you to quiz nights which you’ve learnt he sucks at but still goes every time, and he never makes you feel like utter shit whenever he teases you. There’s always a lightheartedness to his teasing, nothing that degrades your intelligence or pokes fun at you for not having picked up on something, he teases you about how sometimes you wear odd socks or that you drink the milkiest, sweetest coffees to stay alive.
In a few short weeks, Minho went from being a stranger on the beach to being a good friend who you actually enjoyed being around. You don’t know anything about his intentions, he’s never given you a reason to question his motives for befriending you, and there’s no suspicion about him hiding something from you. All you know is that he’s funny, he listens and he takes the time to bring you coffee and talk about the day.
“You want to come to a party this weekend?” Minho asks after you serve a customer, still smiling as you look over at him, “A friend of mine is having a house party and I thought you might want to go. You said you’ve never been to one before, right?”
This is true, sort of. There was a difference between what you’d seen being thrown at houses in places with the space and getting drunk at a friend’s place before going to the clubs. “When?” You purse your lips, pretending to think about it even though you both know that you’ll say yes because you’ve never been one to turn down an invitation to a party.
“Saturday.”
“Will it be big?”
Thinking about it for a moment, Minho tries to figure out whether he should share exactly who the person hosting the party is but then again, if you know then you might decline. “Yeah, it’s a massive house just out of town, no noise control and you know small towns – everyone shows up eventually.”
You grin, excited, you’ve seen those types of parties in the movies, the rich kids that throw lake parties when their parents are out of town and you can’t help but vibrate with excitement at the thought of doing something like that. Oh, it’s definitely going to be different from what you’ve done before. The reason why they never really did that in the city, choosing to pre-game at home and then going to the clubs is because eventually, noise control turns up and ruins all of the fun. “I’m in!” You bounce on your feet before looking over at the kitchen, “Is it okay if I ask Serena if she wants to come?”
He’s not going to tell her no, Minho knows better than to try and get in between the bond that the sisters have but he knows that the best way for this plan to work is to have you alone rather than under the protective older sister’s watch. She reigns you in, he’s realised, she makes sure that you are being responsible when you want to let loose, he can see it, hiding beneath the surface and all you need is one night – this night in particular – to be free.
It all rests on you letting loose and throwing caution to the wind.
Walking into the kitchen, you see Serena kneading dough with her sleeves rolled up, apron covered in flour, and stand beside her with a childish grin that can only ever be used on a parent or sibling. “Yes?” Serena asks, not even looking at her sister and you lean a little closer, moving into her personal space, “What do you want?”
“Party on Saturday?” You wiggles your eyebrows and leans away when Serena turns to look at you, “Minho said it’s at his friend’s place and that it’s going to be big!”
“If Minho is spending so much time here gossiping, maybe he should grab an apron and help.” She says shortly before huffing out a breath and taking a moment to think about it. She’s looking at you in a way that almost feels like she’s scrutinising you but doesn’t say anything about her younger sister’s new best friend. It’s obvious that she’s worried, of course, she’s happy that you have friends but she’s been suspicious of Minho ever since he started coming around. Maybe she wants to look out for you so you don’t get into a relationship with someone who seems like he’d rather play the field but there’s never been anything romantic with Minho – not that you’ve noticed. “I have plans,” she says finally, your brow furrowing because this is news to you.
“Plans?” You begin to question but Minho’s voice calling from the front has you remembering that you have a job to do. “This is not over~.” You say with a wink before rushing towards the door, greeting the customer walking in.
“So,” Minho leans close, your eyes quickly shifting to his side profile before looking at the customer walking around, “what did she say?”
“She has plans,” you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, a little disgruntled about the fact that your sister hasn’t been as forthcoming with her private life as you have been. “It’ll be just me.” You push away the attitude that’s brewing, choosing to focus on the party and getting excited about it instead.
Knocking on the counter twice with a grin on his face, Minho moves away, “Great, I’ll pick you up out front around 9ish, okay? Don’t overdress, city girl!” You laugh loudly, shaking your head at him before he waves and heads out, “See you then, Sugar~.” You wave back, telling him goodbye before turning to the customer approaching the counter, and giving them a warm smile. It’s easier to smile when you have something to be excited about. 
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The music from the party is so loud, it can be heard down the road even without werewolf hearing and it only grows louder and more intense the closer he gets to the house, making Chris want to turn around and head back home. He couldn’t though, he had heard that the rogues had decided to rent out this house which meant they had been staying on his territory without his permission. The Alpha isn’t going to cause a scene, he knows better than to do that of course but he isn’t going to let them throw a massive party and expect him to not turn up and make sure shit doesn’t go down.
Little does he know, Minho and the others actually expected him to turn up. The need for control is something that makes Chris predictable and with the challenge coming up and him still not taking you as his mate, they decided to lay a trap that the Alpha wouldn’t be able to run away from.
What’s a better way to mess with an Alpha than to dangle his mate like bait?
“Oh, look who arrived,” Seungmin walks over to Chris when he walks through the front door, immediately noticing several members of his pack are here as well as other wolves from surrounding packs. “I don’t think you were formally invited, Chris, but yet, here you are.”
Glaring at the young wolf, he wonders if he should have come at all. “This is happening on my territory, Seungmin. You and Minho should both have known I would turn up regardless.” Chris’ name is called from somewhere amongst the crowd and it doesn’t take him long to find the wolf trying to get his attention. One of his betas has noticed the presence of their Alpha and is waving at him, Chris smiles politely and gives a short wave back before turning back to look at Seungmin. “What do you think you guys are doing?”
“Well, we couldn’t exactly just leave with the full moon coming up and the challenge so we thought it might be easier to stay close, stay nearby so that if you happened to change your mind, you’d be able to find us.” Chris scoffs, finding their reasoning to be a bunch of bullshit but he couldn’t care to argue or fight with the amount of people slowly filling up the rooms. Clearly, they’ve managed to get the word around pretty quickly to have this many people turn up already. “If you do decide to stay, have a drink. Loosen up. You want to blend in and keep an eye on everyone then stop looking like the disapproving father and look like every guy your age.” Shoving a beer into his hand, Seungmin walks off, not waiting to listen to the Alpha’s retort.
Chris’ jaw tenses, grinding his teeth as he sniffs the beer and places it down before heading over to the kitchen and helping himself to the fridge. It will be harder to get any form of information if he’s looking extremely pissed off in a room filled with humans and wolves having fun and mingling but he’s unimpressed by their antics so it’ll take a while for him to settle. He chooses to do that in a corner that is far enough away from everyone so they won’t be able to bother him and he can observe before trying to blend in.
He’s the only Alpha and while the humans won’t know who he is, the wolves will so he needs to make everyone less on edge to get what he wants.
He sits there, a few beers into his night and he notices that the place has filled up more than it was an hour or so ago. Did the town really have this many people or have they been bringing people from surrounding towns to come and party with them? Shaking his head, Chris finishes his beer and decides that he needs something stronger to get him into a more social mood; he makes his way over to the kitchen only to be intercepted by Minho.
Where the hell did he come from?
“Where have you been hiding?” Minho laughs, the glazed over look in his eyes and the stench of alcohol on his breath shows he’s had a few drinks so maybe he’s been here for a while. “You’ve been drinking the weak shit if you aren’t out on the dance floor already.”
Raising an eyebrow, Chris is curious at how the other wolf is drunk considering alcohol takes a longer time to have an effect on their bodies. “You’re drunk?”
“Tipsy,” Minho corrects with a grin before slapping a hand onto Chris’ shoulder, causing the older to look at the limb and wonder if he’s planning something. “Oh, come off it man, you are so suspicious. Let loose. This is your fucking problem.” He leads them towards the kitchen and goes for one of the bottles that are sitting on the table, pouring another drink for himself and taking a swig before pouring Chris a drink. “You are so uptight.” Minho continues to drink before Chris slowly brings the plastic cup to his lips and tastes the sweet alcohol, nose wrinkling but he continues to down the whole cup. As if seeing the sight is something that is worthy of a cheer, Minho claps and snatches the empty cup from Chris before shoving his own into the elder's hand. “Help yourself next time~ there’s plenty to go around and for fuck sake, enjoy the party, man.” As Chris sips on the new drink, Minho decides that he’s bored and it’s time to go and mingle, walking out of the room with a wave of his hand and some parting words, “Enjoy your surprise.”
Chris’ brow furrows as he tries to figure out what Minho means by that, the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge as if he’s in danger but his thoughts are interrupted by the hooting and cheering coming from the other room. Finishing his drink and crushing the cup in his hand, Chris discards the crumpled plastic in the nearest bin as he goes to investigate the commotion. What has everyone whistling so loud that anyone can hear it over the bass blasting through the speakers?
He stops dead in his tracks as he enters the room, everything in his body suddenly on high alert as soon as he finds the reason. Standing at the other end of the room with the DJ’s hands on her waist, pouring vodka into his mouth, is the last person that Chris thought he would have to see again.
A person he told himself he didn’t want to see again. A person that he needed to see again – though, not like this.
Everything moves in slow motion. The hands in the air, fists pumping, waving, the sounds of the cheers as you kiss the DJ afterward, the way the DJ’s hands move to your ass and grabs so greedily. Everything moves in slow motion but Chris’ heart races in his chest at the show of his mate letting another fucking man shove his tongue down your throat.
His nostrils flare, his fists tighten and the muscle in his jaw clenches as you pull away, laughing and shouting with the crowd.
The music gets louder, pumping with the alcohol running through everyone’s veins and the Alpha parts the bodies that separate him from his mate. He only sees you, jumping and dancing with someone else now, he doesn’t notice the eyes that are on him as they nudge each other and watch the wolf stalk toward you.
Chris is blind to the dangers around him because all he can think about now is removing the scent of the DJ from your body.
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You don’t even notice Chris making his way towards you, you’re having way too much fun and feeling so good. Minho had promised a good night where you could let loose, where you could do all the things that you wanted to do without needing to be good and behave with your sister around. A night where it’s all about feeling alive! You know that there’s no way that Serena would have let you do that with the DJ in front of the room – Minho did though, in fact, he encouraged it.
You close your eyes, swaying with the bass as you stand in front of the speakers and wow, you feel like you’re flying. The vibrations from the bass has your heart racing on a different level and with the amount of alcohol you’ve had tonight, you feel like you could take on the world and win. Confidence and no care was a dangerous mix when living life in a way that you’ve never really been able to before.
Nothing can ruin your night.
Nothing can ruin your vibe.
Nothing in this world can ruin your fun.
Well, maybe except for him.
You feel the warmth against your back, electricity rushing through you as you lean into the solid body behind you. There’s a familiar feeling in the way this feels, a sense of deja vu but you don’t think about it, why would you? You don’t want to think about anything except the way the song’s making you feel. You lift your hands up and as if the man behind you know what you’re wanting, he allows you to wrap them around his neck, guiding him to the curve of your neck while his hands slowly creep around your waist.
There’s a possessiveness in the way he holds you, in the way that he tries to encompass your body and it sends a sweet shiver up your spine as he moves with you to the music. You don’t quite know it but he radiates it and anyone who dares to look at you with the slightest bit of interest suddenly looks away due to the look in his eyes before burying his nose into your neck.
Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck and smiles at the response that he gives against your skin. The softest lips place wet kisses along your pulse, reminding you of a dream you had once. The mystery man from the club that has been plaguing your dreams is slowly being replaced by this stranger who isn’t as gentle in his touch but creates the same heat in your core as his teeth graze that sweet spot just behind your ear.
“Are you having fun?” A deep voice growls into your ear as he nips on your earlobe and while your insides melt, your brow furrows for a moment because you’re sure that you know that voice. A voice you’ve thought about more than you like to admit but haven’t heard in a while.
No, it can’t be him.
A soft hum vibrates at the back of your throat, nodding your head as you turn her cheek in the direction of his lips, body pressing against him so that your swaying is rubbing against his crotch. “I’m having a lot of fun.” You smile, trying to turn in his hold so that you can feel more than his teeth nipping your jawline but he keeps you from doing so, from seeing him, and your soft red lips pull into a small pout.
“Tell me, do you like to kiss every man you see?” He dips his head back into your neck, inhaling deeply.
You giggle and shake your head, causing him to lift his own slightly. “No, only the hot ones~,” you say playfully.
With a hand slowly ghosting over your body, grabbing your chin so gently but securely in between his thumb and index fingers, he speaks lowly into your ear. “Close your eyes.” It’s almost like he’s testing you, seeing if you’ll kiss him without knowing what he looks like or maybe it’s because Chris knows that the moment you know it’s him – you wouldn’t dare.
“Hm, that’s not fair,” your lips twitch at the corners, deciding to play along with his game. “How about you tell me your name first?”
Tilting your chin towards him, just enough that you can see the lower half of his face, you see the way those plump lips smirk before he speaks. “You know my name, sugar.” And with those five words, you’re hit with a wave of emotions that all conflict with each other.
Part of you is happy, excited almost, to see Chris again, fuck, you didn’t think that you would ever feel that way about him considering everything but you do. Another part of you is pissed off that he toyed with you like this as if he hasn’t been the biggest asshole, or a close second, that you’ve ever met. You don’t want to move away from him, enjoying the way that your body seems to fit with his, loving the way that his hands are holding you like you belong to him. Yet, you want to push him away, remove the feeling of him with force if you have to.
You both want to slap him for taking you for a fool and kiss him because you want to know if his lips are as soft as they felt against your neck.
“Fuck you,” you push him away, storming off through the crowd but Chris isn’t too far behind you, not wanting to give you up even though he had fought against his bond with you for weeks, if not, months.
Chris manages to catch you in the kitchen, grabbing your wrists when you reach for another drink, and without even thinking, you slap him. It’s loud, louder than the music that has followed you into the next but if anyone heard it, they didn’t give any indication that they had. You both stare at each other for a moment, both lust and anger coursing through your bodies as your eyes lock, his chest rising and falling in rapid success as he stares down at you, the redness on his cheek standing out against his fair complexion.
“I–” You’re about to apologise, you don’t know why you were going to but it just feels appropriate to say sorry for causing a handprint on his face. You never managed to finish the sentence though because Chris pulls you closer and helps break the tension between them. Kissing you roughly in a way that has you losing your breath. Your hands lift to rest against his chest and Chris pulls away, thinking he messed up but you simply fist his shirt in your hands and pull him closer, making him kiss you again while backing you towards the bench.
You shouldn’t be doing this, not here, not where anyone could walk in and see you having a heated make-out session with a man you swore as your enemy but the moment his lips met yours – you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anyone seeing you or anyone having a problem with it because this is exactly the type of letting loose you feel like you need.
His tongue slips inside your mouth, coaxing yours to dance with his and his hands move down to your ass, squeezing and pulling you so close that you could almost become one person. You feel his muscles over his Nirvana shirt as your hands move down his chest and over his abdomen, firm and hard, something that you had guessed once by looking at him but feeling it? A rush runs through your body that seems to set fire to your core.
Your fingers are close to touching his skin, at feeling him but his hands are so fast at catching your wrists and moving them away with that stupid smirk against your lips. “Uh uh, sugar, not so fast.”
You groan, hating the sound of his voice and hating how he’s worked you up so easily, gotten you right where he wants you only to deny you of something that could make him seem at least enjoyable to hate. You bite down on his plump bottom lip, harshly but not enough to draw blood, and Chris growls deeply in his chest, the vibrations rumbling against your own. “You’re so mean, you know that?” You hiss at him when you let go, “You started this and now you’re stopping? Ugh, that’s so annoying.”
Wow, you really sound like a child who isn’t getting your way.
Chris seems to find your anger at him amusing and he pulls away to look at you, his dark eyes dancing with the lust that you’re bringing out of him. He lets go of your wrist, only one as he holds the other tightly, and lifts his free hand to your chin; his fingers hold you securely as his eyes never leave yours, reading the heat behind your burning gaze. Turning your head towards the party, Chris brings your attention to the area that they are in while his lips ghost along the shell of your ear.
“You want to give them another show?”
Using all the strength that you can muster in one hand, you push hard against his chest and Chris steps back as he chuckles, knowing that he’s rattled your cage. “Fuck you.” You say as you storm off towards the bathroom so that you can cool off – or get off.
You feel Chris behind you, not letting you get too far away from him, and while you want to round on him and give him another piece of your mind, another side of you has a completely different thought, one you’ve read far too many times in your books. You want him to follow you, to lock the bathroom door behind him, and cage you against the sink. You want him to fuel that fire, to mock you, tease you, and then kiss you until you both can’t breathe. You want him to run those stupid, large, veiny hands down your body and cause goosebumps to cover your skin. You want him to fuck you like you’ve been dreaming and fantasising about.
You don’t know where it comes from, this need for him, this passion that runs through your veins when it comes to Chris. His irritatingly sexy voice whispers in your ear as they enter the small bathroom together, reaching behind him to lock the door. His infuriatingly firm body presses against your body as his annoyingly handsome face is seen in the mirror.
Why? Why can’t you get him out of her head when he pisses you off so much? Why are you so attracted to him when he’s showing everything that you say you hate about a man?
They say that there’s a fine line between love and hate but this? This is something else entirely and you want to say that you don’t want him but as his hands rest on your body, tightly holding onto your waist, you push back against him. You grind her ass against his groin and feel the effect that you have on him. It’s like everything you’ve been thinking in your mind before is about to play out and you can’t help but think that this is a pretty typical encounter for enemies who can’t stand each other.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” He growls, teeth clenched as he pulls you closer while rolling his hips and making you feel his length. “You’re driving me insane.”
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Everything he says he doesn’t need, everything he lies to himself about when it comes to a mate, it all went out the window the moment that your lips met. Chris had no idea what he was thinking but the moment that he saw you with another man’s lips against yours, something inside his mind snapped and all he could think about was making sure that he erased that man’s taste off your tongue. The slap added fuel to the burning fire building in his abdomen, a slight sucker for pain maybe, but it only pushed him towards you instead of making him step back.
He should have left you alone when you headed to the bathroom though but he didn’t. He should have stopped at the threshold and let you be but here he is.
Here you are.
And there goes his sanity.
Pushing against you, he can smell you, your arousal, and it is so fucking intoxicating. It goes straight to his head and fills his mind with many different ways that he could claim you. You are his after all, his mate, he should take you and make sure that everyone at this party knows who you belong to but Chris tries so hard to hold onto whatever broken sanity he has. He can’t force you into this life, not without knowing what it is, he needs to remember that… he needs to focus…
“What the fuck are you doing to me? You’re driving me insane.” Your eyes are locked in the mirror, Chris watching you react so prettily to his need pressing against your ass. The bathroom is too small, there’s not enough space to put distance between you even if he tried. Your scent is filling up the room quickly and all his blood is rushing to his cock, making his pants tight and uncomfortable.
He needs to get you away from him before he can’t hold back. The way your body is responding so readily to him, moving in time with his movements as you practically dry hump while staring into each other’s eyes – it is not helping. All it’s doing is telling him that you want him, that your body can take him, and now all Chris can really think about is how he could slip right between your folds and stretch you out nicely. Shit, that thought definitely isn’t helping.
“Sugar,” your hum sounds too much like a moan and Chris tenses his jaw as if he’s one movement away from breaking. “I need you to leave.” Your brow furrows, confused and he takes a few shallow breaths as if that’ll clear his head with you surrounding him. “If we don’t- fuck-” You push against him and his fingers flex, nearly holding you tight enough that you’ll bruise, “don’t fucking do that.” He growls and your body shivers at the sound.
“Why not?” He can see the smile playing on your biteable lips as you do it again and Chris groans deeply at the feeling. You’re loving the fact that he’s unable to get away from you on his own, that it’s really up to you. It’s the reason you won’t leave, knowing that you have the power to basically make or break him right now, that you are able to get under his skin, why would you back away and stop this?
You don't understand that he’s doing this for your sake as well as his own. You just know that you’re winning and that’s all you want.
You brush your hair to the side as you press your back against his chest, your scent fragrant and strong as Chris grits his teeth and closes his eyes. A happy place, he tries to convince himself, go to a happy place, and not give in to your temptation but it seems his wolf is taking your side and giving in. It’s a battle of the wills and Chris has very little self-control in this situation. It’s true that he hasn’t had sex in a while, suppressing every rut with whatever magical potion he can get his hands on and exerting the energy through training so being presented with a sweet treat like you makes it hard for him to resist.
What is he other than a simple wolf?
His nose runs down the length of your neck, inhaling deeply and tightening his fingers on your hips. If he slips, even just slightly, his nails will dig into her soft skin and break the skin so he needs to be… “Fuck.” Chris growls deeply as his teeth graze softly over a patch of your skin that makes you moan and the sound bounces off the walls, or at least that’s what it feels like. “You’re dangerous, sugar.”
Giggling, fucking giggling, you lean forward and grip the basin while pushing your ass right against his bulge, his cock throbbing and begging to be released. How the fuck is he going to get out of this? No, how is going to fuck you without– “I taste just as sweet as I sound.” Your words cause Chris to freeze for a moment as his brain registers what you just said and it seems that it is all the wolf needs to lose the battle since his fingers automatically move to push your dress over your perfect ass.
Now, he’s not someone who cares about a woman’s body. They are always beautiful no matter their size but your soft hips told him that you were built like a meal. Licking his lips, Chris looks down and runs his hands smoothly over your rump before giving it a spank. You yelp softly, eyes locked on his face but Chris is too busy watching the little jiggle he’s rewarded with and he does it again, just to revel in how your body reacts. “Is that so, sugar?” Fuck, your arousal is so much stronger and it causes his mouth to salivate like he’s so close to his dessert that he can taste it on his tongue already. “You offering a free taste test?”
“Only if you are man enough to try it.” Your words are meant to be a jab but Chris simply chuckles, his lips lifting in a smirk as he moves one hand up your back, dress lifting more, while the other runs teasingly along your clothed core.
You’re soaked, he knew you would be but feeling it is better than he can imagine. The teasing, the thrill of the fuck, hell, maybe even the fighting turns you on. “Do you always get this wet around me, hm?” Applying a little more pressure, Chris rubs back and forth and notices how you stand on your tiptoes to give him a better angle. “When we fought in the bakery, were you clenching your thighs to stop yourself from begging me to fuck you?” You gasp lightly as he rubs circles over your clit before continuing working you over your panties. “Does a little fighting count as foreplay for you? Maybe you’re not as sweet as you look, sugar, hm?”
He can hear you trying to retort, trying to reply and get back at him but your body betrays you by clenching around nothing and just feeling it, knowing it would feel so good around his cock makes his wolf howl in the back of his head. 
“Spread a little for me, baby girl,” Chris gently slaps your thighs and you comply. “There’s a good girl.” He growls out before using both hands to rip your panties messily, the pieces still clinging to your hips while the crotch hangs pathetically. Well, they were ruined anyway.
Before you can say anything, before you can try to tell him off for ruining a seemingly pretty set of lingerie, Chris plunges two calloused fingers into your soaked pussy. His digits slide in easily with no resistance just like he imagined, just like he’s dreamed about, your walls accepting him as they flutter around his fingers and sounding so messy as he prepares you for what’s to come.
You are but that’s not the point.
“Such a pretty little whore, hm? Letting yourself get fucked in the bathroom at a house party,” Chris grins as his eyes meet yours in the mirror, your eyes hardening slightly before he moves his hand and curls his fingers, watching your reaction to him hitting that sweet spot. “Huh? What was that?”
Your head drops as you push back, trying to take him deeper, “fuck you.” You manage out in one breath before biting your lip harshly, as if you’re trying to stop him from hearing those sweet moans he knows you can make.
“Sorry, kitten, I didn’t hear you.” Chris brings his other hand into play, reaching around you and rubbing your clit while still fingering you from behind. The moans break through, knuckles turning white from how tightly you’re holding the basin and he knows it’s getting hard for you to keep yourself from falling completely. He can feel it, the way your body tenses and relaxes, the push and pull, the internal fight unlike what he was having – you want to mess with him but you also want to give in and feel so good. “You were saying?”
“You’re cruel!” You whine, clenching around him. He doesn’t know whether you’re referring to the fact that Chris hasn’t picked up the pace and has basically been keeping you on the brink or the fact that he’s enjoying turning the tables on you despite him barely holding back. “God, please! Just… please!”
Ah, the pace.
It won’t be that easy though. “Please, what, sugar?” Chris slows down ever-so-slightly. You shake your head, biting your lip and not wanting to give him what he wants, so he slows down a little more, fingers barely doing anything but keeping you on edge and making your body jolt. “You want something, tell me and I’ll give it to you.” He rubs your clit a little and you moan softly before he stops again, “Otherwise, you won’t get to cum.”
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You contemplate, wondering if this really is worth it but when he rubs your clit again, you fold almost instantly. God, it’s been so long since a guy has made you feel this good and you refuse to go home with your pussy throbbing for the thickness you could feel beneath his pants – not without having it stretch you out and fill you up first. A bitch in heat maybe, you’re starting to feel like one right now with the way your body is heating up and begging for more. “Please, let me cum.” You try not to make it sound like you’re begging but the whine you let out makes it impossible to play off otherwise.
A deep growl of approval is what you’re rewarded with as Chris picks up his pace and finds the perfect rhythm to send you over the edge. You feel it starting in your toes before making its way up your body and mixing with the heat in your core. It reminds you of when you’ve been playing with your vibrator and haven't cum in so long that your whole body responds so intensely. A visceral reaction to the stimulation. Your hand slaps down on the stone basin, stinging your palm while your body goes rigid for a moment as your walls clench and flutter around his fingers, still moving and not slowing down. A long moan escapes you but you can’t slap a hand over your mouth out of fear that you may collapse without both hands to support you.
“So fucking pretty,” Chris says as he slows down his movements and pulls his fingers away from your throbbing heat. “You feeling okay, hm?” He asks, eyes on yours as if he’s really concerned for you and he waits, a few heartbeats, for you to nod her head. “Good.” Your eyes widen when Chris brings his fingers to his lips, unashamedly keeping eye contact while sucking them clean before tilting his head back in pleasure. The way he moans at your taste goes straight to your empty cunt, sensitive but needing more. “You do taste so fucking sweet.”
His eyes almost shine as he looks back at you and there’s something slightly different about him. You can’t explain it, not really but it’s almost like he’s more gone than he has been showing or like another side has come out, whatever it could be, you can’t linger on it for too long because Chris is unbuckling his belt and releasing his cock. Not that you can see it, even if you were to look over her shoulder, you wouldn’t be able to see from the way that you’re leaning forward but it’s not long before you feel it.
Chris rubs the tip through your folds, gathering your slick and using it as a lubricant before grabbing your hips and pushing forward to sheath to the hilt. You whine at the intrusion, thicker than his fingers, but feeling so good that you don’t think about anything else. He moves slowly, allowing you to feel every inch stretch your velvet walls and all you can say at the feeling is, “holy shit.” He knows that you’re still feeling high from your previous orgasm, so you’re only given a short moment before Chris is pulling you up by your shoulder and wrapping an arm around your body.
Breath hot against your sensitive skin, his cock as deep as he can get it at this angle, Chris kisses your neck. One hand is on your hips, holding on for dear life while the other arm is wrapped around your chest, just under your breasts, as you’re crushed against his firm body. “You feel even better than I imagined.” Chris’ voice is deep before he starts to move.
There’s barely any thoughts that come through your brain after that, barely anything even registers other than the pleasure coursing through your body as Chris fucks you like he’s as desperate as you are. His head buried in your neck, his low grunts and groans sounding in your ear as you moan and call his name – as well as to whatever Gods may be unfortunately watching. You enjoy sex, it always makes you feel good and she can’t say that she’s never had mind-blowing sex before but this, this is something else entirely. It’s like you fit together perfectly, like he’s filling you completely, hitting all the right spots and making you whimper and whine as another orgasm starts to build.
“Hold it,” Chris commands, his lips pressed against your bare shoulder, eyes locked on your face as you barely manage to make eye contact. “Don’t you dare cum.”
Your hands reach for his, one clinging onto the hand that’s digging, bruising, your soft hips while the other digs into his forearm. This is your only lifeline right now, the only thing keeping you aware. Sure, maybe you didn’t have to inflict pain on Chris but considering his command has your body almost immediately responding – you have to do something. “Please–”
“Not. Yet.” He grunts, picking up the pace. Chris angles his hips to hit the spot that should make you see stars but it doesn’t push you over the edge, not yet, almost as if everything is waiting for him to give permission. He commands your body, he commands what it’s needing and feeling and you are nothing but the puppet following along. Your head falls back against his body, giving in completely and allowing him to build up your orgasm until his strokes begin to get messier and harsher.
It’s as if your body just knew what was about to happen or maybe it’s something else that triggers it but the moment Chris buries himself deep inside her, letting out a deep growl as he harshly bites into your shoulder – you cum around him. Your body feels light, weightless, as he holds you tightly in his arms, teeth breaking skin while your pussy milks his cock. It feels like minutes tick by before Chris pulls out, causing a slight mess between your thighs as cum leaks out of your still pulsing cunt.
In and out. Deep breaths. Nothing but the sound of you two breathing can be heard as you look in the mirror, eyes focusing on Chris only to see him staring at your shoulder. “You have some sharp teeth there, Chris.” You laugh breathily, reaching to touch the bite mark and wincing slightly at the tenderness. You like hickeys, you don’t mind being marked but it was kinky that he bit you like that.
This sets off a chain of events that has you standing there confused and understandably upset. Chris adjusts himself, tidying up his clothes and pulling as far away from you as he can. It’s almost like he didn’t know what had just happened and why he was touching inside you, a shift from how he couldn’t stay away earlier. You’re turning to face him, looking a little happier about being this close to him than you first were when you entered the room but Chris looks like being near you is the last place he wants to be. With a small, uncertain smile, you reach for him, “come on, it couldn’t have been that bad, hm?”
But, Chris pulls his hand away from yours. “This was a mistake…”
The words are said so quietly that you could say you misheard him, only for Chris to make a speedy exit afterwards, so fast that if he was a cartoon, there’d be a cloud in the shape of him.  This sudden retreat has you standing there in shock, your lust filled brain getting a harsh reality splashed onto your face. You don't know what happened, why this happened, especially when it seemed like it was something that you both wanted. It wasn’t bad, in fact, while there are so many things you know could have been better – like not being in a bathroom – the way it felt so electric, like your whole body was in tune with his, it was definitely a great way to break your dry spell. None of that is what she’s fixated on though, you can forgive the way he left you to clean up by yourself, you can forgive the slight throbbing from where he bit your shoulder, but what you can’t forgive are those words that Chris dared to utter.
This was a mistake.
Tears well up in your eyes, and your hands shake as you lock the door so you don't get interrupted. As you clean up, those words echo over and over again. This was a mistake. You remember saying that when you broke up with your ex, you remember saying that your relationship was a mistake because you were two different people. You remember hearing Serena say that when she tried to double a recipe she really shouldn’t have and made a monstrous cake that nearly overflowed in the oven. You have heard those words plenty of times in your life but never, ever have you had them said to you like that.
This was a mistake. Damn right, it was. A mistake that will never happen again.
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illbegottenfaith · 5 months ago
Text
symphonia ix - theo nott x reader
brothersbsf!Theo helps you recover from a terrible case of burnout at his family’s lakehouse
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a/n - this is one of the more self-indulgent things I’ve written. a few months back I experienced my worst case of burnout ever. It was bad, like drop-out-of-college bad, and I really wanted to talk about it with my best friend at the time, except that we had just broken up and I forgot that he wasn’t my best friend anymore and god I rlly miss him :( anyways this was rlly cathartic to write enjoyyy
P. S. thank you so so much to everyone who has left a comment on my fics! I rlly appreciate it so much 🥹🫶 will start working on a lucky pt 2 once I get the inspiration heheh
tropes/warnings - angst, description of burnout, self-loathing, hurt/comfort, brothersbsf!theo
word count - 1.7k
You were one of the first to arrive at the lake house. After your breakdown about a week ago, your parents made sure you were on the first train out of Hogwarts the second your last final was over. Though, from what you gathered, you were soon to be joined by a few of your brother’s friends, as if to make it seem more like a vacation getaway than a rehabilitative trip.
You dropped your bags by the door as soon as you entered, a frail breeze barely stirring the living room air as the humidity made your hair plaster itself to the back of your neck. There was a tiny window looking out to the glittering lake and the all-too-familiar boy lounging near it, leisurely smoking in nearly 40-degree heat. After all, this was who the property belonged to - Theodore Nott. He had almost immediately offered it up as soon as news of her breakdown spread in an embarrassingly short amount of time. From the way the blazing sun beat down on his lean, toned back, you could tell the lakeside agreed with him.
You slipped your bathing suit on under a T-shirt and shorts. It was simply too warm to not consider a dip in the lake. Too warm to do anything except have the shrill cicadas bear a hole through your skull. Too warm to do anything except watch the flimsy reeds sway in the nonexistent breeze. Too warm to do anything except thread your fingers through your brother’s best friend’s hair with eyes fluttering shut as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.
“Do you want a drink?” Theo asked hours later, when the sun was just a little past its zenith. You were reclined on a lawn chair with a tedious book while Theo was sitting at the edge of his, watching a school of carp crisscrossing with one another. It was afternoon, and without much breeze, the air was starting to border on stifling, even with your cover-up off. A cold soda sounded perfect about now.
“I’m fine,” you said instead, feeling irritable and sulky in the sweltering heat. Your eyes were glued to the way his back muscles tensed and relaxed under the blinding sun from behind your sunglasses. 
Ever since the both of you had gotten a little too drunk at that one Halloween party, you’d occasionally spend the night together, and if either of you got a little handsy, well…you were teenagers. Other than the occasional flippant remark of ambiguous vulnerability, what you had was purely physical, and you guessed that it had something to do with him avoiding acknowledging you as his best friend’s little sister. For whatever reason, it was easier when you were just another warm body in Theo’s bed, and in your moments of weakness, that was more than enough. 
You didn’t know what you were doing or why you were doing it with Theodore Nott, of all people. It wasn’t like he could seek you out in public, and the way things were going, that didn’t seem to be changing anytime soon. But between your maddening, idiot brother and your well-meaning if distant friends, there were days when he happened to be the only person in the world you didn’t hate.
But the more time you spent together, the more likely it was that either of you would slip up. You had already had a couple of calls too close for comfort, and it was becoming increasingly clear how fraught their situationship was making him. There way he’d occasionally hesitate or seem off pointed to how much this going behind your brother’s back weighed on him. Though you’d never admit it, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if he decided to end things. He already had the upper hand, being the older and more experienced half. You weren’t about to give up any semblance of a bargaining chip by admitting you needed him as much as he wanted you. So the only thing you could do was keep kissing him and hope that he liked the feel of your body under his enough to keep sneaking around.
But some days, like today, all you could think about was the ache that came with playing house with him when your brother wasn’t around. 
“You shouldn’t be here,” you started, in a clipped voice. “Your friends must be missing you.”
Theo looked up, half-distracted by the lake, scratching his face. “Who? Zabini? Riddle? They’re joining us in a couple of days."
As if all this wasn’t humiliating enough. “What for?”
He stopped scratching his face. “For moral support, tesoro. We know how difficult this must be for y-“
You threw your book into the lawn chair next to yours. There it was again. More unwanted pity. God, were you really that pathetic?
“Principessa -“
“Shut up, Theo.” You felt him stiffen next to you. A small, nervous part of you knew you were being unfair, but the larger, angrier part of you didn’t care. Maybe this days-long meltdown or whatever it was would finally drive him away. Good riddance. It was what you were destined for, anyway. It was what you deserved. You stood, fumbling to pull on your cover-up with your trembling fingers.
“Go home. You and your friends. I don’t know what you’re doing here. It’s not like you’re my boyfriend or something.”
You relished the surprised look of hurt that flickered across his face before marching back to the cool, shaded lake house. Your mind was a blunt mess of chaos and hurt. You suppose you meant to draw yourself a bath because you find yourself submerged in lukewarm water in the bathtub, still fully dressed.
You’re not sure how long you sat there, feeling the tepid water cool around you, watching the sun and shadows shift through a tiny window near the ceiling. Eventually, you hear the front door creak open. You close your eyes and relax against the tub as you subconsciously follow Theo’s footsteps until he stops in front of the door. He taps against it and calls out your name, but you don’t deign him with a response. He sounds unsure of what to do. You’re not sure what you want him to do either. Eventually, he tries the handle and finds the door unlocked.
"What are you doing here?" Theo asked conversationally, keeping his tone light, as if he found strange girls fully-clothed in bathtubs every day. You continued staring at the tiled wall in front of you. You felt rather than heard him crouch closer to you and tentatively hold your wrist, preparing to sling your arm over his neck.
“Let’s get you out of there, hmm?”
You twisted your wrist out of his grip and you felt him retreat minutely. “Get away from me,” you rasped, your voice brittle with disuse.
Theo was no longer able to disguise his stricken tone. "Tesoro, please. You'll feel better once you're dry and warm-"
You shrank away from him, hugging yourself tighter as your head spun. The water was cold, so cold, filling you with a chill that was settling in your bones. A chill that made you feel like you could never be warm again, no matter how hard you tried. “I don’t want to be dry. Or warm. Don’t you get it? This is...this is it for me. I'm sickand...and crippled. I'm small. I'm weak."
Your voice died to a whisper towards the end. Theo gently, but firmly, reached for your arm and knees again, scooping you up like some sodden, fearful downtrodden animal. You were too exhausted to stop him this time, melting into a boneless heap on his lap, hissing from the feel of his burning skin against your freezing body. He swore softly under his breath as he held you closer and started rubbing your arm, trying to warm you up. With his arms around you, you didn’t feel so exposed to the whims and fancies of life and its cruelty. You felt safe.
You felt the overwhelming urge to cry. "It's so stupid," you mumbled. "Everyone does this. I've been doing it, for years and years now. I just..." you squeezed your eyes shut, sagging against Theo. "I can't do it a day more. I can't. I really, really can't."
"I know," he murmured into your hair, massaging soothing circles into your lower back.
"Theo," you choked out, as if you were only just realising who was holding you. Good Theo. Kind Theo. Beautiful Theo who rarely raised his voice at you, who waited up for you no matter how late it was and who held you like you were the most precious thing in the world even after you'd gone off the deep end.
Merlin, you didn't deserve him.
He captured one of your trembling hands in his own. "’M here, amore." 
You exhaled shakily, pressing an ear to his mildly agitated heartbeat. “Why am I so-so broken?” you hiccuped.
'You're not broken. You're just...exhausted. You'll get better."
You subconsciously tightened your grip on his arm. 
"But what if I don't? What if…what if I never get better?"
He pressed a kiss to to the top of your head before tucking you under his chin. "That's okay too."
You swallowed hard, casting a guilty look towards Theo’s chest. You didn't dare meet his eyes. “You’re soaked,” you muttered, half-heartedly trying to free yourself from his hold. His arms tightened around you as he drew you in even closer, rocking you gently. You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, him whispering comforting sweet nothings under his breath while you alternated between sobbing into his shirt and feeling numb to how your world had unravelled around you.
But here was Teddy, warm like the sun, and just for a moment you could believe that the world wasn’t truly ending.
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