#reading this serious and sober stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months ago

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cowboy like me | r. reynolds

a/n: guess who's back. haha. sorry i said i was on hiatus and then wrote this. i saw thunderbolts and made it everyone else's problem so here is a fuck of a long fic. i dont know i just wanted to put all my ideas in one so there is a lot going on in this one but yeah. uhm. no real smut because i didn't wanna write because they fuck a lottt also the entire concept is based off this one screenshot i have and i do not know where i got it (it was from some sort of meme) but yeah! warnings: SELF HARM!! no really super serious descriptions but the reader is mentally ill and so is bob and reader does hurt herself at some point and bob wraps them. lots of talks of addiction and alcoholism and sobriety. lots of kissing and allusions to sex and teasing and everyone (bob and reader) is mentally ill and, yeah. sentry and void have a conversation with bob in his brain. also book club. word count: 9.4k summary: you get a text from an old friend and think.. you could do worse than a book club.. with some benefits. pairing: bob reynolds x sober!reader now playing: cowboy like me - taylor swift "now you hang from my lips/like the gardens of babylon/with your boots beneath my bed/forever is the sweetest con."

The first text comes at 5:43 on a Tuesday.

‘do you wanna start fucking again like maybe once a week?’

You must’ve sat, staring at your phone for twenty minutes. Who the fuck..?

The second text comes at 6:32.

‘it can be like a little book club, we can read the same book and discuss’

Book club..?

You ask yourself if this is some sort of joke, and another text shows up three minutes later--

‘i also have a real bed now.’

And then you remember this meth head you used to sleep with, some Florida guy who was always taking odd jobs to fuel his addiction—Cashier, house sitter, alligator hunter, amusement park mascot.. until he got fired, which always seemed inevitable.

You suppose you have no room to judge. You had only been in Jacksonville after your last friend in New York told you no more, that they wouldn’t watch you destroy yourself. But you didn’t need them to, you never needed an audience to fuel the urge to rip every little bit of your soul apart.

You had taken a job working at a Dunkin Donuts that was right next to a liquor store. It seemed as if the universe had given you a sign. You could retire here. Nothing but part time shifts, a bottle of vodka, and a shitty room for rent from the kinkiest 72-year-old lesbian you had ever met.. You had a little bit of respect for her, a sort of ‘good for her’ attitude.

And then, you met Bob.

You met Bob at a dealer’s house.

Romantic, right?

Bob was about to take his first hit in six or seven hours, and you sat uncomfortably scrunched against the couch, trying not to think about how many fucked up things had happened there.

And he sat on the other side of the couch, Bob sat, flicking his lighter on and off while he waited.

..The girl you were with was currently.. paying for the coke she wanted. You were never a fan of drugs, alcohol was your one and only, your soulmate—you could never cheat on her. But this girl promised to buy shots at the next bar. And now you had to listen to her ‘pay’ her dealer—and you presumed Bob’s dealer in the other room.

“Hey.” He speaks first.

You give him a side glance.

“Hey.”

“Waiting for.. stuff?”

“Just waiting for my friend.”

“Oh. Cool.”

A beat.

“What’s your—“

“Alcohol.”

“Oh. Cool. Mine’s meth.”

“Great.”

A beat.

“I need a fuckin’ hit man, I don’t know what’s taking her so long to fucking pay—”

God, you wanted a drink in that moment.

“So, he’s your dealer?”

“Yeah. And my roommate. My rooms the one down the hall.”

“Cool.”

Another beat.

You began tapping your foot against the carpet.

“Oh my god, it doesn’t take that long to—”

“It fucking takes a minute, relax,” You scoffed.

“Not this long.” You caught the unspoken words.

And then, almost in sync, you looked at each other, fully turning your heads to really see what one another looks like. Your eyes flickered up and down his features. Drunk as you were, you knew you could do much worse than this guy.

But before you could say anything, he spoke again,

“Wanna see my room?”

Your ‘friend’ didn’t really seem to be finishing up her transaction anytime soon. Plus, it.. had been a while.

“Sure.” You said, and you followed Bob two steps behind on the way down to his bedroom. When he opened the door, you know deep down sober you would be mortified—well, only if the sex was bad.

His room was small, clothes laid about in various piles across the room—a few lighters, a coin or two next to the odd chip bag.. and in the corner of his room, a twin sized mattress laid on the floor, black sheets and a red blanket, one that had been clearly loved.. and a very old pillow.

You just stared until Bob grabbed your wrist, pulling you along to the bed. He sat on the bed first, tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, and gently prompted you to ‘c’mere.’ As you sat on his lap, you realized that this guy was cute enough for this to become a regular thing.

Your lips locked with his, slowly pulling him in with slow, gentle kisses as if the two of you weren’t giving plenty of time for the moment to be interrupted by the end of the transaction in the other room.

And then, your hands traced up from his shoulders, past his neck and ears, curls wrapping around your fingers.

As if you couldn’t help yourself, you found yourself gently tugging at his hair, listening as he let out this soft moan, and you couldn’t deny—you could totally get used to this.

And after, when you laid back on his stupid twin sized mattress without a bedframe, your finger stayed twirled in his curls. Then, when he heard the other bedroom door open, he pulled on his boxers and got up, grabbing a sweatshirt as he headed to the door. He glanced back to you to ask,

“’m going to take a hit, want anything?”

“Something to drink?”

“I’ll get you a beer.” He had offered, and you found yourself smiling.

So, you came back. Again. And again. And again. And again. And then you got sober. Or at least, that’s the version you’d give your therapist when you next spoke.

When you got sober, you had gone from a smartphone to a flip phone, deleting and blocking many of the numbers from your party days.. until you had gotten to Bob. All you did was delete his contact from your phone—he still had your number if he wanted to reach out.

But he hadn’t. Not for the past nineteen months, and you’ll be honest—Month eight was such a big month for you (being able to babysit your niece by yourself for the first time, saving up for your own apartment, no roommates or family, and enrolling in a night class or two), so you had forgotten the meth head who purred when you played with his hair.

And yet..

You felt this.. tug. At something.

You found yourself responding—

“hey, i’ve been sober for nineteen months. not interested if ur still using.”

Your texting habits reflected your archaic tech.

But you meant it—Bob was.. well, you didn’t like to think about the things you felt for him, but it was enough to make you bury it as deep down as you could.

“me too”

And then, seven minutes later,

“therapy too lol.”

You glance at the time. You think about your favorite bar’s bottomless margaritas on Tuesdays, and you realize it has been a while.. it was typical for people not to date within a year of sobriety. But it had been nineteen months..

And this wasn’t a date.

It was book club..

“what do u want to read?”

You toss the flip phone on your bed and walk over to the shelf in the corner of your room. You inspect the spines of the few books you have and realize they’re not book club material.

You pick your phone back up to read the text—

“great gatsby? i never read it in school”

Neither had you. Maybe you had been assigned it once upon a time.

“okay. next thursday enough time?”

You were serious about the book club aspect of this. You know two things—

One, no mater how he answers, you’ll have to talk this over with your therapist. Maybe even your sister. You barely ever take risks, not since getting sober, and this risk scares the shit out of you..

Two—You are almost giddy at the idea of tugging at Bob’s hair. You’ve been alone for too long, but you can’t seem to trust yourself enough to download a dating app and hook up with strangers (you theorize you could become as addicted to hookups as you were to alcohol) and the idea of getting into a serious relationship makes you feel sick.. so maybe this is a good compromise.

You glance at the phone in your hand and see one more text--

“sure :)”

So, you send him an address to a coffee shop near your apartment. He asks you if three works. You say yes.

When you tell your therapist about it the next day, this huge smile grows on her face as you tell her about your dilemma—to be or not to be, to go or not to go, to fuck Bob or not to fuck Bob.

You debate this back and forth, and your therapist eventually tells you—

“As your therapist, I shouldn’t and couldn’t push you to do this. Read the book. Go to coffee. At the very least, you’ll get some closure. Or.. you could have an outlet. Remember your boundaries, and don’t pursue anything you aren’t comfortable doing. Ask him questions about his sobriety if it’s important for you to know to feel comfortable. Think about it, and we can talk about it next week before you go.”

And that was pretty good advice. You contemplated it, back and forth, bouncing a mental tennis ball off a mental wall in an imaginary room. Sometimes, there are bottles of booze in the imaginary room, and other times, Bob sits in the corner. Quietly watching you ‘throw the ball.” Somedays it’s just you and the tennis ball.

You’re very normal.

When you told your sister, she just laughed.

“So, at what point did you start seriously considering this?”

“..When I realized he had an actual bed now.”

And that’s all you can respond, because you can’t explain how curious you are. He was a meth head named Bob who had no bed frame, and yet.. you want him. After nineteen months, you think about the way he focused his attention to you in between sips, in between hits, in between fucks.

How his hand rested on your side, how those stormy eyes studied yours as you talked, asking questions about your delusional rambles—

“Right, but what does that mean?” He had asked one night.

“What does what mean?”

“What the fuck does it mean that I ‘am’ the.. hanging gardens of Babylon?” You had rolled your eyes, and the pads of your fingertips against his lips.

“They were a uh,” Your eyes flicker up and down his face. “These.. gardens. City of Babylon, a long long time ago-- They were supposed to so beautiful but there’s no archeological proof they ever existed, except they’re mentioned in poetry, so.. They may or may not be real and we’ll never know. You remind me of them.”

Bob just stared at you for a long time. He didn’t say anything but the way his eyes fixated on you made you alive.. And maybe more alive than the booze, and that thought petrified you because up until that point, drinking was your life. So, you ignored it. What else were you supposed to do?

When you’re done with therapy for the day, you go to the closest bookstore. You pick up the cheapest paperback you can find of Gatsby and then, your eye wanders, as it always done in a bookstore. You spot a book on The Seven Ancient Wonders of the world.. And you decide to buy it when you see the large chapter on The Hanging Gardens of Babylon.

///

The week passes quickly because you find yourself filling any free time you have with reading, underlining and circling quotes and words that F Scott Fitzgerald decided were good enough to convey his themes.

You barely register that it’s Thursday morning when it comes because all you want to do is reread your favorite parts over and over again while you get ready for the day. Before you know it, it’s.. time for book club.

You decide to get there ten minutes before three, hoping you’ll be able to grab a drink and relax before Bob shows up. The bell on the door of the café rings when you walk in, and there are a couple of patrons..

But you find yourself stopping in your tracks when you see a familiar face in the corner, a book on the table, as his finger traces a pattern on the cover.. absently. Like he’s somewhere else.

And then his head picks up, and he notices you. Neither of you say anything, neither of you smile.

In an instant, you’re not sure if you can do this, if—

“Decaf red velvet latte with whipped cream and cinnamon for Bob?” The barista calls, and he stands and approaches the counter, mumbling a thanks to the barista. When he glances down and notices your name scribbled on the side of a cup marked ‘half n half’ and ‘two splenda’, he picks it up and turns, handing you the cup.

“Hi.” He says, and you find yourself reaching out to take the cup, as if you just saw Bob yesterday.

“Hey.” You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Wordlessly, the two of you sit at the table.

And there is quiet.

Until, Bob asks,

“So.. how have you been?”

“..Fine.”

“..Cool.” You remember this awkward feeling. Like right before the first time, you slept together. “Thanks for meeting with me.” He breathes after a moment, and you nod.

“Yeah.” You breathe, and then he asks,

“You’ve been sober since the last time we—”

“What did you think about the book?” You ask, reaching to take a sip of your coffee. Bob nods, taking the hint.

“I.. liked it.” He says, “It was a good first book for this. I liked that.. that Nick reflects on his life through these other characters and realizes what he does, or doesn’t, want.. How about you?” He asks.

“I liked it too,” and you find yourself wanting to just ramble about your analysis but you bite your tongue. “I think Daisy is a fascinating character too, especially in the way she seems so trapped in her situation. Like being with Gatsby is the only way she can feel alive or free or something.”

Bob considers this for a second.

“Yeah,” He starts, “But she’s.. a rich woman. She’s inherently part of the system that you claim traps her and is actively benefiting from her wealth.”

Wait.. was your awkward meth head situationship kinda.. smart?

You adjust from your rigid position and lean into the conversation a bit.

“Well, Why can’t it be both?” You wonder, “She can benefit from these systems and be miserable in them—she’s miserable, maybe because she’s benefiting from it, and her wealth doesn’t negate the abuse and strain on her marriage.” You say and go to take another sip of your coffee.

Bob is quiet.

Then, he says—

“Yeah. I think you’re right.” He smiles a little, and you feel your heart in your throat. “So do you think the green light was actually supposed to be as important as pop culture makes it seem, or was that just..”

“I think it is as important as we’re led to believe, because it’s a symbol of what things could be.” And then, before Bob can say something that would lead you to change your mind, you say, “Yeah, I stayed sober since the last time we talked.. When did you quit?”

He inhales and then closes his mouth, and you watch as he holds his breath, noting that his mouth is sort of puffed like a chipmunk. When he exhales, he responds,

“Right after that, I guess. I joined this.. medical.. study and quit to do that.. Then, I guess I just.. stayed sober.” He says, and you laugh, so with a bit of a smile, he asks, “What’s so funny?”

“You make it sound so easy.”

Then, Bob starts to laugh too.

“Do I?” He leans forward like he’s about to tell you a secret, and he says softly, “Because some days I feel like I’m drowning and maybe meth would be the key to being able to breath again..”

“So, what do you do when you feel like that?” You ask softly, not because you’re looking for an answer but because you need to know if sobriety is as big for him as it is for you.

Bob gestures to the table.

“This. Sugar, reading—” He cuts himself off like there’s something else when he meets your eyeline. “Do you want to go to your place or mine?”

And there’s no hesitation when you answer,

“Mine.”

///

Bob spends a long time studying the details on your shelves. He notices the pictures of a seven-year-old he doesn’t recognize and you, the small lego structures in between them, and he finds a small jar next to your TV with little chips in them.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He hears you ask.

“No, thanks.” He calls back, and you appear in the doorway.

“Too much sugar in that latte you had?” You tease, and in that way you love, he just stares at you for a long time, in that way that makes your heartbeat too fast.

“Can’t help it,” he says, “No meth means lots and lots of sugar.”

“Right,” You nod.

Your fingers itch by your side, and you decide—Fuck it. You’re not getting any younger, any more sober. So you go over to him. Like a scared deer, Bob just stares at you, while you try to not scare him off. Your hand ever so gently reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear.

Then, he shakes his head a bit.

“I haven’t done anything with anyone in a while.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Then, because you think you’ll tell him to leave and never come back if you don’t, you lean forward and kiss him, and as if that is how he gets air when he feels like he’s drowning, his hands are on your side, slowly stepping so that you’re backing up towards your bedroom.

Then, you pull away,

“Bob,” You start, “I’m not really looking for a serious relationship right now,” You start, and his lips begin to leave sloppy kisses, first along your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck.

“Mhm,” is all he responds with.

“I’m being serious,” You sigh as he continues to step forward, pushing you back towards the bedroom, his mouth hot on your skin. “I’m still working on getting my shit together,” You continue.

“I get it,” he says, his voice gentle.

“Do you?” You ask, but he can hear the smile in your voice. “Because it seems like you’re trying to sleep with me—”

“No, No,” He shakes his head a bit, “I’m not going to sleep with you, silly girl,” He hums, and you never want this moment ends, “I’m going to fuck you.” He says gently. It makes you laugh, and he chuckles too.

You decide to take the initiative and slip your shirt off-- Then, he takes off the sweater he’s wearing, and you have to take a second. You really look at him and begin to smile.

His stomach is rounder than it was nineteen months ago when you last met. He’s.. thicker. His rips aren’t poking out of his stomach. No, thicker isn’t the right word.. He looks.. healthier.

And that is hot.

“What?” he asks, “What is it?” he wonders, and you just shake your head.

“Nothing. You were saying something about fucking me?” You wonder, and he nods.

“Right, right.” He says softly, grabbing your face and bringing you in for another kiss. Your hands trail up his neck and find his hair as he slowly sinks down, so he’s kneeling between your legs.

Your hands find his hair, and in between kisses, you gently tug on his hair, and just completely melt when you hear a soft moan leave his lips..

And old habits die hard.

So, you do it again.

///

You lay on your stomach, your face smooshed against the pillow you have your arms around. Bob is sitting up in bed, and you find yourself looking at him for a long while.

“So, What are you doing for work now that you’re sober and in New York?” You ask.

Bob plays with your sheets.

“Uh,” He lets out a soft half chuckle. “..You know the uh.. New Avengers?”

“Vaguely.” You shrug. You don’t really have the time to keep up with that sort of thing, between your job, between babysitting your niece, between being sober.. And it’s not like you have social media, so.. yeah. Vaguely.

“..That.”

“That what?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“That’s what I’m doing now.”

“Bob, I’m not following.”

His finger begins to run down your arm.

“I guess I.. sort of count.. as a.. New Avenger.”

“…What?”

“I need you to stop asking me that,” He sighed. “Do you remember the uhm.. medical study thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Something they did.. it changed me.. A serum.”

“So you’re like, some sort of superhero or something?” You wonder, and you say it like it’s funny. Bob looks uncomfortable—much more than he usually does.

“..No. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.” He says. “I’m dangerous, I.. Do you remember last year when the.. the Void attacked New York? Right around the time that the New Avengers got announced?” He asks.

You pause.

“I mean, yeah, but I was in Jersey at the time, at a wedding.” Your first since getting sober. It was a rough weekend.

“Yeah, that was me.”

“..What was you?”

Bob wishes he could sink into your mattress and never show his face again.

“The void.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m not allowed to go on missions or.. get into any emotionally challenging situations..” he sighs. “Because I.. I can barely keep him.. or even the.. Sentry at bay.. I’m working on it.” He finally looks at you. “Which is why I don’t want a serious relationship either.” He says. “We.. we could just be friends.”

“Friends who fuck.”

“Book club with Benefits?”

You smile.

“Friends who discuss literature and also fuck.”

Bob rolls his eyes a bit, his lips pursing into a reluctant smile.

“Book club with benefits.” His pointer finger starts at the top of your back and travels down your spine, “Lots.. and lots.. of benefits.”

And if you could focus on anything other than how good that felt, you might’ve noticed the flicker of gold in his eyes.

///

“Decaf Caramel Frappuccino with extra caramel and whipped cream, and a medium hot coffee with half n half and two Splenda for Bob?” The barista calls, and you step forward to grab your drinks.

You hand Bob his glorified milkshake and sit at the same table you sat at last week.

“So,” You start, “Lord of the flies.”

“Yeah,” He breathes, “I.. I didn’t really like this one.” He shrugs.

“I think the concept is interesting enough.” You respond, “And it’s interesting that the group is only made up of privileged little British white boys. The horrors they put each other through might never have happened if they had been a group of schoolgirls, or if they had faced any hardship before this.” You shrug back, taking a sip of your coffee.

Bob nods as he studies the atmosphere of the café.

“Hey, do you wanna split a slice of cake or pie or something?” He asks, and you find yourself giggling.

“You’re ridiculous.” You scoff. Bob huffs.

“You’re boring.” He accuses and you just laugh more.

“I am not boring, I’m consistent.” It makes Bob shake his head.

“Coconut cream pie?” And the way he makes those puppy eyes makes you sigh.

“Fine. But you’re one piece of pie away from me accusing you of being addicted to that in place of Meth.”

“You wouldn’t.” He smirks, like he knows you better than you know yourself.

“Sure I would.” You shrug, “I’m just a concerned friend, Robby.” You smile, and then you watch as Bob gets up to get a slice of pie, ruffling your hair as he passes you.

///

“And then I said to him, I say, ‘If you want to hire spider-man to try and do your bidding, be my guess, but I—”

Bob is biting his tongue as he listens to everyone talk. He’s sitting on a chair at the kitchen island, watching as John moved around the kitchen, preparing dinner. He’s been staring at the same page of The Outsiders for ten minutes, just thinking.

Bucky is complaining about Sam, and before anyone can respond with anything, Bob clears his throat and puts his book down.

“Can I ask you guys something?” he wonders, and everyone’s head immediately turns to him. He barely talks in these group settings, so Yelena, who sits by his side, nods.

“Sure, what’s up?” She asks.

“..I need.. advice. I need to get a birthday gift for.. a friend of mine.” is how he starts.

“Not anyone in this room, right?” John asks, and everyone, including Bob, just looks at him.

“No. I know you think I’m socially inept, but I know not to ask what I should get someone while they’re in the room.” He huffs.

“Alright, who’s the gift for?” Bucky asks.

Bob wants to tell them all about you—your quirks, your laugh, the way your brain works, the way you feel wrapped around his—

But he hesitates.

“Just.. a friend.” He breathes. “From.. Book club.”

“Book club?” Ava answers, and already it feels like a mistake to have asked them but they’re his only friends besides you.

“Yeah, we.. choose a book to read every week and we meet up for coffee every week to talk about it.”

Yelena glances down to the book on the counter.

“Book club..” She nods, “And how long have you known this friend?”

“…It’s complicated.” He breathes.

“And do you hangout outside of book club?” John asks.

Bob’s cheeks flush.

“Sort of.”

“What does that even mean?” Ava asks, and he shrugs.

“We.. do some other stuff. I don’t know, she—”

“Oh, she?” Alexei finally pipes up, letting out a gruff laugh. “So you like her?”

“It’s just difficult to explain!” He snaps, and everyone pauses when the lights flicker. For a moment, no one says anything.

Then, Bucky huffs,

“So just try.” He gently prods. Bob hesitates.

“She’s.. I do like her. We started book club last month, but.. We met before.. Y’know.” He gestures around, “We..” his cheeks are red as tomatoes now. “When we’re done with coffee and talking about books, we.. we go back to her place, and we..”

Immediately everyone either groans or laughs. Bob feels like he might die on the spot.

“That is so weird,” Yelena laughs, and Bob groans as he covers his face with his hands, shaking his head.

“Never should’ve told you guys.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky says after a moment. “You knew this girl before the Sentry project?”

“Yeah. We both were.. were addicts in Florida. We started hooking up, and I knew from before I went to Malaysia that she was moving back to New York, so I looked her up and—and you all said I needed to get a hobby!” He offered.

“We meant like,” Ava shrugs, “Knitting or—”

“Book club?” Yelena smiles. Bob bites the inside of his cheek.

“So, what should I get her for her birthday?"

“Well, what kind of message do you want to send?” John asks. “That you want to be more than.. whatever it is that—”

“..Book club with benefits.”

Everyone looks at him.

“What?”

“..That’s what we call it.”

“Oh, my god,” Yelena and Ava are giggling now.

“Okay. What kind of message do you want to send?” John asks again, and Bob hesitates.

“..That I care about her, that..” he shakes his head, “that.. I’m sorry for..” he picks his head up and notices everyone staring at him. He can hear the Void laughing at him in the back of his head.

“For..?” Bucky offers gently and Bob shakes his head. And then, he begins to tell his teammates about the last time he saw you.

///

Nineteen Months Ago

You and Bob had been sleeping together for months. Hanging out in between fucks and hits—or drinks. He had burrowed his way into your heart and taken up this big chunk of it, replacing booze in your late-night fantasies.

When he wasn’t extremely high, and you weren’t extremely drunk, you found yourself falling for him. The attention he showed you had been it’s own high, and you had let yourself become addicted to someone who you would never have a normal life with.

But he was there, waiting for you with a shot after every shift. You often helped him light up. The two of you encouraged each other’s destructive behaviors. Became each other’s self-destructive behaviors. Like the mentally ill addicts you were.

Your sister had flown down to Florida to see you.

You hadn’t asked her to. You knew she wouldn’t approve of this.. lifestyle. And at first, you wished she had never come to see you, because you did not want to stop drinking.. and then she wore you down. Your big sister always knew how to get you to do whatever she wanted.

So, the night before she was scheduled to fly back to New York, you went to see Bob. His roommate let you in, and you found him high and on his bed.

“Robby,” you said as you walk in. He smiled twenty seconds later when he registered your presence.

“I love it when you call me that.” He spoke.

You smiled weakly. You took a seat on his mattress.

“I have to talk to you.” You had said. He sat up, leaning forwards.

“Mm, All you do is talk to me,” he said slowly, and his hand grabbing yours. “Come kiss me instead—” His lips catch yours, in a soft, sweet kiss. He pulled away, and you whispered,

“Robby, please.”

And only then had he registered an important detail.

“You don’t taste like booze.”

You always tasted like booze.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “that’s why I wanted to talk to you—”

“No,” he said softly, “No, don’t—”

“Tomorrow, I’m flying to New York with my sister. I’m going to rehab.”

He shook his head, sighing.

“What.. what changed your mind?” He asked, and you shrug.

“My niece. My sister told me that.. she’s sick of having to talk about me like I’m dead. That she wants to know me. She’s six. Her names Ella.” A smile tugged at your lips. “She does dance. And she.. she loves to read, my sister said.. It reminded her of me.” Then, you shook your head, tears brimming your eyes. “I want to be in her life. I want to taste my mom’s cooking again. I.. I want to get better.” You cleared your throat.

“I’m going to Malaysia tomorrow.” Bob said, and your eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

“I got fired from my job, so they gave me my last paycheck.. So I spent it on a plane ticket. I’m going to Malaysia with.. thirty bucks in my pocket. Maybe I’ll find the answers. Or, at least more drugs..” He shrugged. “Come with me.” He had offered.

You just shook your head.

“No.”

“No?” He scoffed, “What do you mean no?”

“No. I won’t go to Malaysia. I’m going torehab..” You started, and you inhaled before you asked, “And you should come with me.” You offered.

Bob let out a humorless chuckle.

“You..” He shook his head. “You’re just like everyone else.” He sighed, and you shook your head.

“Robby,” You whispered. “Please come with me. Get clean. Be.. be with me.” You said quietly, and when you leaned in to kiss him, he tilts his head away from you.

Oh.

“You should go.” He huffs. “I need to pack.”

You nod.

“You’re right. I should go.”

You stand, and make your way to the door, wiping your tears as you go.

Bob doesn’t say anything.

You stopped in the doorway, turning around to look at your sweet boy with no bed frame one last time.

“I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

And then, as if you weren’t soul crushingly and devastatingly in love with him, you left. And you hadn’t seen him again. Not until you started book club.

///

“Decaf vanilla bean macchiato with whipped cream and cinnamon and a medium hot coffee with half n half and two Splenda for Bob?” Bob grabs the drinks today, and when he sits across from you, you start—

“So. Frankenstein?”

Bob sighs.

“I liked that it’s the first ever sci-fi novel, and it was written by a young woman. It’s interesting.” He shrugs.

“Yeah.” You nod, and you open your mouth to say something but Bob beats you to it,

“I mean, I don’t.. I don’t know. Victor is just.. so stupid but also so.. self-centered. He’s— He’s the one who created the monster, why can’t he take accountability for it? Why is the monster doomed to always.. be a product of his creator?” He sounds frustrated, so you gently shrug.

“It is bullshit. But I think the person aspect of him, the human aspects of the monster are all him. The best parts of him comes from the work he does on himself.” You shrug, and Bob knows this conversation has strayed from Frankenstein. Kind of.

“Yeah.” He sighs softly.

A beat.

“And I agree.” You shrug, “Victor is a fucking idiot.”

Bob just smiles, and then asks,

“Wanna split a chocolate chip muffin with me?”

///

Bob calls you on a Saturday afternoon between book club meetups.

“Hey,” You say into the phone, “Everything okay?” You usually don’t talk except for your weekly meetups.

“Yeah,” He says into the phone.

“Okay.” You smile. “Do you.. need so—”

“Come over.” He gently requests, “I- I mean, You don’t.. you don’t have to, I was just wondering if you wanted to—I guess..” He breathes.

“Robby, it’s not even Thursday.” You tease.

“I don’t.. care,” He breathes.

“I..” You start, “Would.. really love to, but I gotta do laundry.”

“Do your laundry here.” He offers.

“Bob.”

“What?” he whines, “I..I just need.. to see you.”

You bite your tongue, but it would be nice to see him. To see his new, full bed. And you know that if he has a washer and dryer, it would make laundry a lot less frustrating than doing it in the laundry mat down the road from your apartment.

“Okay,” You sigh. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” You promise.

Bob meets you in the lobby of New Avengers tower, watching as you walk in, holding a bag of laundry as you make your way to him.

“This place is crazy,” You tell him, and Bob just smiles awkwardly.

“It’s.. just a tower.”

“Yeah, but like.. It’s definitely not just—” You cut yourself off when you realize how out of his element Bob looks. “Where’s this awesome new bed I hear so much about?” You ask, and it seems like it’s enough for him to relax.

“Come on, I’ll show you upstairs.” You follow him into the elevator, and when the doors close, he says, “So.. You’ll.. probably meet the team, or at least some of them.”

“Oh, I get to meet—” You clear your throat and wipe the smirk off your face. “That’ll be nice.”

Bob just looks at you for a moment.

“They’re.. kind of.. intense.” He breathes.

“Bob, we were addicts in Jacksonville, I can handle a couple of.. teammates.” You shrug.

Bob gives you an awkward smile.

“Yeah, sure.” He sighs. The doors open, and you follow Bob out, looking around the apartment. Like he’s looking around for trouble.

“Bob, seriously I—”

“Heads up!”

You and Bob duck at the same time when a football comes flying towards your head.

“Sorry,” a voice says, and you see.. The US Agent and The Red Guardian, coming to retrieve their ball.

“Ah, Bob,” The Red Guardian says, “Who is your girlfriend?” He smiles. Your cheeks flush.

“Uh, She’s.. just my friend. Who happens to be a girl.” He says.

“Right, right.” He nods.

“We’re in a book club together,” you start and both men start laughing while Bob looks intensely embarrassed.

“Oh,” One laughs, “You’re the book club girl.. I’m John. This is Alexei, are you staying for dinner?” He asks.

You glance to Bob, who looks back to you.

“Uh,” He shrugs, “I don’t.. maybe.” He breathes.

“Maybe isn’t—”

“Too late, we’re doing laundry, Bye!” Bob says, grabbing your hand and pulling you along. You just smile and bite back a comment about how jealous he seems.

“They seem nice.”

“They aren’t.” He grumbled, and you just laugh.

When you’re done putting on your laundry, Bob takes you to his room, and you can’t help the smile that stretches across your room. It’s a little messy, but there are books here and there, cozy blankets, warm lighting, and.. no meth. No booze.

You jump onto Bob’s bed, stretching out with a soft laugh, this stupidly large grin on your face.

“Oh, My Robby situationship has a real bed now, how divine,” You hum, and Bob just stands in the doorway with a soft smile on his face.

“I missed you.” he says softly, and you shake your head.

“Well, I’m here now,” You offer. He scoffs and walks over to the bed, finding his place on top of you as you lay back.

“Not really good enough for me,” He confesses.

“Needy Robby.” You jest, but before you can tease him further, he kisses you.

Your fingers find his hair in familiar movements, and Bob deepens the kiss further, his tongue slipping past your lips. His fingers dip under the shirt you’re wearing, and a soft shiver runs down your spine as he scratches up your sides, and when you moan in response, it seems to make him more confident in his movements.

Your fingers curl around his hair, tugging just barely on his hair. In between kisses, you mumble,

“Need you,” And he just catches your lip in his teeth, tugs a bit, and goes back to kissing you. And kissing you, and kissing you—

Until you hear the shatter of a glass on the nightstand. Both you and Bob pull away and your heads turn to look at the pile of glass and the water dripping off the nightstand.

“Did you..”

Bob’s face flushes.

“I-I didn’t mean to, I just—”

There’s a brief knock on the door, and then it opens, and a short blonde woman walks in.

“Bob, is everything okay, because—Woah,” She stops, noticing the compromising position the two of you are in, just as Bob takes his hand out of your shirt. “Oh, this is what happens at book club, huh—”

“Yelena!” Bob snaps, his cheeks red with embarrassment. Your eyebrows furrow when you see his eyes flicker gold.

“I was just trying to make sure you’re okay! The lights were flickering..”

Bob groans and rolls off of you.

You just smile awkwardly to Yelena.

“He’s fine, we were just..” You shrug. “Uh..” You chuckle awkwardly.

“Right, just.. Tell him to relax whenever he comes back down to earth,” She says, and then steps forward and holds out her hand, “I’m Yelena, it’s nice to—”

“Okay,” Bob stands suddenly, walking towards Yelena, “I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” He says, and she just smirks.

“Have fun at uh.. Book Club.” She says, turning to leave. Bob closes the door behind her and then glances back to you, and then groans, covering his face with his hands.

“Bob,” You grin, a soft laugh lacing your words, “Baby, it’s really not that bad.”

He looks at you when you call him that.

“It’s not..?”

“No.” You smile. “Come back to bed..” And then, you try, “Please, baby?”

Bob moves like lightning to kiss you again. It’s actually impressive. Not as impressive as breaking the glass or turning off the lights because he was just too.. needy. But, his speed is pretty impressive.

///

“Decaf pumpkin spice chai with extra cinnamon and a medium hot coffee with half n half and two Splenda for Bob?” You take the drinks from the barista, and slide into the seat across from Bob, glancing over to him.

“So,” You start, “1984.” You sip your coffee.

Bob gestures to you.

“Go for it.” He smiles gently.

You begin to talk about the political implications of the novel..

And Bob becomes slowly lost in thought. It starts out simple enough.

He notices how gorgeous your hair looks. You’re always so pretty.

We could take such good care of her, a voice says in the back of his head, She should know everything we could offer her.

Or..

No, Bob thinks. It’s bad enough that the ‘Sentry’ wants a piece of you, he wouldn’t be able to stand it if he entertained any thought of letting the Void out.. especially if he wanted to get anywhere near you.

Why not?, the voice asks, you could help.. We could help. She wouldn’t have to worry about her sobriety or any of her silly thoughts.

He’s right, The Sentry agrees, and Bob feels like he might be sick, How could you even know what she wants if you haven’t asked?

Because, Bob thinks, you don’t even want him. Why would you want either of these—

Because I’m better than a God, The first voice tells him, And he’s..

Everything you aren’t.

Exactly.

Shut up, Bob thinks, She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t at least a little bit into me.. right?

You’re so naïve, Bobby, He could hear the Void mocking him, and it was even worse when Sentry cut in—

She could get a fuck from anywhere, and let’s face it, you’re not particularly tal—

“Let’s go back to your place,” He says suddenly, cutting your rambles off.

“Everything okay?” You ask, watching as he stands, grabbing his jacket.

“Uh.. Yeah.” He smiles awkwardly, “I’m just..” He shrugs, “In a.. a giving mood.” His cheeks flush when he says it, and the tips of your ears go red when you realize what he’s saying.

“Okay,” you nod, “No, like—pastry or brownie or—”

Bob clears his throat and inhales like he doesn’t want to regret what he’s about to say,

“I’ll have something sweet real soon,” He says. Your ears get redder.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You stand up and take the last sip of your coffee.

“Okay.” You say, throwing out the cup on your way out the door.

“Okay.” Bob smiles, following you to your apartment.

///

“Decaf caramel dolce Frappuccino with cinnamon and extra whipped cream and a medium hot coffee with half n half and two Splenda for Bob?” Bob takes the drink from the Barista and slides into his usual spot.

He hands you his drink, and then you start,

“I cannot believe she married Rochester!” you whine, tossing the book down on the table. Jane Eyre was the book selection for this week—well, two weeks, it took you guys some time to get through it.

“Yeah,” Bob breathes, shaking his head, “I.. I mean—”

“Do not defend the man who kept his mentally ill wife locked in an attic and got with a nineteen-year-old,” You start, and Bob smiles a bit. He stares at you for a long moment and then you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, no-nothing.” He shakes his head. “I was just..” He shrugged, then he clears his throat, “She got a family, right?” You sigh.

“Yeah, she did.”

“And yeah, it would’ve been.. nice for her to end up with someone her age, but..” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s really good for her.” You just look at him. “Or maybe he died tragically young and left her his money.” You smile then.

And after a moment, you say,

“I guess everyone deserves a second chance, right?” You wonder, and he nods.

“Yeah.”

Bob feels like he can’t breathe.

You notice he looks it too.

“Wanna split a brownie?” You ask, and Bob smiles.

“Yeah.”

///

1:32 A.M.

You’re not sure if this counts as relapsing. You twist your phone in your hands and try to focus on breathing. In and out and—who should you call?

Your therapist? Your sister? What would you even say? ‘Sorry, I know you’re usually worried about me drinking but I just couldn't fight off the compulsions or the depression tonight, so can I come over so I don’t do what I just did again?’

You open your stupid fucking flip phone and dial Bob’s number.

“Hey, everything okay?” You note the lack of sleep from his voice. He must’ve already been up.

You inhale to try and answer, but you hesitate. You don’t want to start crying.

“Can I come over?” Is all you can say.

“Sure,” he answers immediately. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

You do. You want to see him as quickly as possible, but.. you have this insane thought that you don’t deserve the comfort, that you must wait to see him.

“I’ll walk,” And if Bob notices the distant tone, he doesn’t say anything.

“Okay. I’ll see you in ten, I’ll meet you in the lobby.” He says gently, and you nod, even though he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

You get up from your place on the bathroom floor, but you don’t hang up, so after a moment, his voice comes through the other end of the phone,

“Everything okay?” And you wish he would stop asking it.

“Mhm,” Is all you manage as you get your shoes on. You make your way down the stairs, the phone pressed against your ear.

Maybe he knows something is wrong, so he asks,

“Have you started reading The Hunger Games yet?” He asks. It was for ‘book club’ this week, and he just needs to hear you talk so he knows you’re still there.

“Yeah,” You breath as you walk down the stairs, the movement down the stairs more instinctual and second nature than conscious movement, like your brain is fixated on the fact that if you can get to Bob, you’ll be safe—safe from what, you do not know.

“What did you think?” He asks, as he slips on his own slippers, trying to think of anything else he can ask.

And in your daze, in your foggy brain that you try to stumble your way through, as you walk down the streets of New York, the cold air sending goosebumps up your arms, the breeze even stinging the fresh cuts on your arms. A group of girls about your age come down the street past you, drunk and giggling and you think about how alone you feel.

Your feet stop in front of a bar, and you take a moment to just stare at the neon sign, thinking about how easy it would be to get a drink. Another breeze plucks you out of your spiral. You wish you had brought a sweater or something.

Your head turns and you can see the ‘new’ Avengers tower just a few blocks away. So, you keep walking. You can make it there. Bob is waiting for you in the lobby.

“I like that the first thing we learn about Katniss is that she loves someone,” you say, walking towards the tower now. Your hands are beginning to shake. “We don’t know anything about her, her name, her place in the world, or even anything about the world.. we just know that she loves someone.” And when you say ‘someone’, your voice cracks. You can see the doors of the tower now.

“Yeah,” he says on the other end of the phone, and as you get closer you see him there, a small smile on his face as he stands there, and it registers in your brain that he is smiling as he’s talking to you. It registers, just barely. “Sometimes I.. I can’t believe how smart you are.” He says, and it makes you feel almost.. anxious. Like he’s lying.

You hang up as you walk through the doors, and Bob’s shy, isolated smile falls when he sees you. When he sees your arms.

“Holy fuck,” is what he says, and that does not make you feel better.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your tears now falling freely, and not because you’re sad, but because you’re ashamed, and because you feel bad that Bob has to deal with this and because..

This definitely counts as a violation of your ‘book club with benefits’ agreements.

“It’s okay,” he starts, “it’s alright, we can handle this,” He says, but you hear the shakiness in his voice. You know he’s pushing through his own terror in this moment.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, taking a step back from him, but he shakes his head as you continue, “I.. I shouldn’t have come here,” And you go to turn but you feel Bob’s hand grab yours.

“Yes, you should have.” He says, “Because if it were me and I didn’t call you, and I just let myself spiral further, you’d be so mad at me.”

You know he’s right.

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“But I want to.” He says gently. “So let me.”

And you nod, because you know the path you’re on. You know what letting him in leads to.

So does he.

You don’t say much else, but you let him lead you upstairs, his hand clutched around yours.

The ride up the elevator is quiet. Bob just keeps his grip on your hand and then he asks,

“What else did you.. like about the book?” He asked.

You search your brain for an answer. You know he’s trying to keep you distracted.

“I like Peeta. He’s a sweet character.” You say gently. And then, before you can stop yourself, you say, “He reminds me of you.” Your hand shakily comes up to brush a lock of hair behind his ear. You notice the way a small smile tugs at his face. His head tilts and he kisses the palm of your hand.

The doors to the elevator open, and Bob’s fingers lace with yours.

“Let’s..” he nods towards the door, and you nod in return. He walks just a step ahead of you, but you notice the way he takes the occasional glance back. Both of your heads pick up when you hear footsteps approaching, and there stands Yelena, in these plaid pajama pants and a big tee shirt for some beer company. She looks half asleep but she smiles when she sees you two.

“Oh look, book club meets late now, how—” she stops, her face growing concerned when she sees your arms, “What did—” But she stops when she sees Bob shake his head. Instead, she glances back to you and in a way that leaves no room for argument, she says, “You call if you need me.” And without another word, she turns and makes her way past you down the hall.

You and Bob find the bathroom. “Take a seat,” he gently says, and you decide to sit on the edge of the tub. He shuffles through the supplies and pulls out some bandages and some antibiotic spray. He takes a rag from off the counter and soaks it in some warm water. Then, he turns back to you. “Can I see?”

You just hold your hands out, and Bob starts by just looking at the cuts. There’s not a ton of them, but there are enough for him to notice. He gently cleans them with the warm rag and then sprays your wrists with the antibiotic spray.

“When did you learn first aid?” you ask.

Bob shrugs.

“When.. when you’re the standby in a team of superheroes..” he shrugs. “You pick up on a few things.”

“You’re a hero too.” You say softly. Bob doesn’t respond, he just wraps your wrists with the bandages he holds. He doesn’t want to tell you that he’s no hero, that he’s hurt so many people that he thinks he’ll be repenting for the rest of his life.

He turns around to put the spray and bandages away, and when he turns back, he sees you sitting on the floor, leaning against the tub. He sighs and sits next to you on the floor. Then, he asks,

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shake your head. “C’mon..” he says softly. “It’s just me.” He reminds.

“I..” You sigh. “I haven’t.. self-harmed like that since.. middle school. I just wanted to feel something, anything that didn’t feel like I was drowning.” You confess. “I’m sorry I bothered you, I don’t know—”

“Stop,” he says softly, “We’re..” He sighs. “I meant it. I want to take care of you.”

You can’t stop the tears from falling as you shake your head.

“You wanna know the worst part?”

Bob’s voice is genuine when he says,

“I want to know all of it.”

Finally, you turn your head to look at him.

“I’m falling back in love with you.” You tell him. He nods.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asks softly. You feel a smile tug at your lips, and it makes Bob smile too.

“Sure.” You answer.

“I never stopped.” He said, “When I saw you again, it was like..” He shook his head. “I should’ve gone to rehab with you.” He whispered. Your heart aches. “I never.. never should’ve went to Malaysia or..” He frowns. “I could’ve built a life with you. A real life, not just.. One where I have to pretend like I don’t.. like I don’t want to ask you to stay.”

Your heart breaks when you see tears brimming his eyes.

“Robby,” You whisper, even though it’s just the two of you in this bathroom. The lights flicker just a bit, so you lace your fingers with his.

“I.. I was so.. so stupid.” He shakes his head, “I never..” His eyes meet yours. “I really screwed it up, and.. I’m sorry. And I love you.” He confesses.

“What about uh..” You sniff, “What about neither of us wanting to be in a.. serious relationship?”

“Fuck that.” He says, and his confidence in it takes you back, “I’m tired of.. of not seeing you everyday. A week is too long to go without seeing you.” He confesses, and your free hand comes up to tuck a curl behind his ear.

“I love you too.” You tell him. You lean your forehead against his and then say, “So ask me.”

“Ask.. Ask you what?”

“Ask me to stay.” You whisper, “And maybe I will.”

“..Just.. Just maybe?”

“Guess you’ll have to ask and see.”

“..Stay.” He says softly. You can’t help it, so, you say,

“That’s not really a question—” Bob stares at you for a long time, a smile making his glare much less intimidating.

“Will you stay? Here, with me?” he wonders, “Be with me.” He requests.

You kiss him, but there’s no expectation in this one. You don’t expect him to want to fuck, to want to sleep with you. This kiss is pure, with no strings attached. No benefits.

When you pull away, you nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay for as long as you want me to.” You promise, and Bob smiles a bit, looking down to your intwined fingers.

“That’s.. nice.” Your awkward Loverboy responds, and you’re shocked when he asks, “Do you.. uhm..”

“Do I..?”

“Do you.. wanna watch.. Star Wars with me?” he wonders.

You can’t help but smile.

“Which one?”

“The best one.” He shrugs. “Revenge of the Sith?”

“Sure. That sounds nice.” You confess.

Halfway through the movie, you would fall asleep right on top of him, and Bob would realize that this was always where he was meant to be.

///

For your birthday, Bob hands you a small present, wrapped in paper decorated with sprinkles. When you open it, you find a copy of The Great Gatsby.

Only this copy is bound by leather and has this beautiful dark blue and gold cover on it. It must’ve cost Bob—well, it wasn’t cheap, but It’s gorgeous, and inside, you find a note scribbled onto the title page—

“I found what I was looking for.

Love, Robby.”

#thunderbolts #thunderbolts fanfiction #thunderbolts fic #bob reynolds #robert reynolds #sentry #the void #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #bob reynolds fanfiction #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x you #robert reynolds fanfiction #sentry x reader #sentry x you #void x reader #void x you #lewis pullman

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niniwritesxo · 6 months ago

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nsfw alphabet - nam-gyu (player 124)

(it contains things like degrading, threesomes, and nam-gyu being an asshole tbh, if you aren’t into that i wouldn’t read this x)

saw this on @cybrasigilism ‘s page, you should really check that out ! (love their writing btw)

——————————————————————————

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- sorry to burst your bubble but his aftercare is probably none existent, he might hand you the tv remote afterwards but that’s about it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- 100% his hands, obviously he had to add some rings, because he knows girls like you will go crazy over it. favorite part about you is most likely your boobs or your ass (basic am i right?)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- he for sure has a breeding kink (who said that haha)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- a dirty secret about namgyu is the fact he would to have a trio with thanos and you, the thought of seeing thanos fucking you turns him on more than he would like to admit.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- i think he has had a lot of one night stands, so he knows what he is doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- he loves when you are on top of him, that way he can look at your body all he wants, the way your boobs bounce when he is thrusting into you, how you are so out of breath after a few rounds, he loves it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- i don’t think he is very humorous in bed, he doesn’t even think about making a joke in the moment because he is so focused.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- i don’t think he has a insane bush, but lets just say he isn’t perfectly trimmed either.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- he sees you as a fuckbuddy, good for fucking. he isn’t looking for a relationship so he probably isn’t that romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- he looks up your (or your friends insta) and jerks off to your photos.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- i feel like he would love tying you up, seeing how you aren’t able to move while he gets to do whatever he wants. (and knife play ..anyways!)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- definitely in places where you COULD get caught like, fittings rooms & public restrooms.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- praise 1000%

‘Bet you’ve never been fucked like this huh?’ he says out of breath grabbing your chin, at this point it’s almost impossible for you to talk, it’s like he fucked your brains out. You decide to nod.

‘Fucking speak up’ he says glaring at you.

‘n-namgyu please, i need y-you please’ you manage to puff out.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- anal.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- he loves receiving especially when you suck him off. but he is also a munch, he loves going down on you. he could do it for hours.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- he is very rough and fast, it’s almost like hate fucking, nothing sensual about it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- he loves quickies, especially in the games he would find places where he could quickly release his stress onto you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- i think he has tried a lot already but will try all sorts of stuff on you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- depends if he is under the influence of something, if he’s taken something? he could go on for hours on end. if he is sober he’ll probably pass out after a good 40 minutes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- he doesn’t own or use toys, he feels like his hand are good enough to keep you satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- he is such a tease, you definitely need to wait before you can cum and he’ll make sure you beg for it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- i don’t think he moans, he is more like a grunts guy. i feel like he talks a lot tho. (cursing and degrading you obvi)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- it kinda turns him on when you try to be bossy for once, telling him what to do and what he isn’t aloud to do.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- he has a average body, leaning more towards a dad bod than a jacked up guy tho.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- his sex drive is hiiigh, he always feels horny and is always in for a quickie.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- give him ten minutes and he is gone.

english isn’t my first language so if i made any mistakes, i apologize x

#namgyu #nam gyu headcanons #nam gyu x reader #player 124

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aceyalonso · 10 months ago

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we're both winners, sweetheart - LEWIS HAMILTON

pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader | READ PART 1 HERE

summary : Y/n and Lewis going through the typical struggles of marriage (or in other words, the struggle of keeping up the charade of being married)

warnings : THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE STORY IS FAKE!!! swearing, kinda angsty, drinking, nail-biting, talking about sex (nothing too detailed), discussions of raising a family, 11-year age gap (reader is 28 years old), smut, hair pulling, unintentional overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!)

face claim - gracie abrams

word count : 18.6k

song : agora hills - doja cat

a/n : this isn't proofread and SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I WAS DEALING WITH SO MUCH PERSONAL STUFF OMG (this was supposed to be fore my 300 followers celebration thing | i might make a separate series for lyka and lando…………………………

July 8, Monday, 7:09 AM

Toto Wolff sits behind his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. Y/n and Lewis sit on the other side, both looking a bit sheepish and on edge. Toto looks at them, a moment of awkward silence hanging in the air before he finally speaks. "So," he begins, his voice cautious. "I have to say, this is... quite a situation you've gotten yourselves into."

Lewis clears his throat, his gaze meeting Toto's. "Yeah, we kind of... didn't see this coming," he admits, a hint of humor in his tone. "It was a very unexpected development, to say the least."

Y/n fidgets in her seat, her fingers massaging her forehead. She glances at Toto, his expression still unreadable. She tries to sound calm and rational, but her voice betrays her nervousness. "We weren't... fully sober when it happened," she offers lamely, as if it's an excuse.

Toto's eyebrow quirks at this revelation, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Not fully sober," he repeats, his tone heavy with incredulity. "You got married... not fully sober?"

Lewis grimaces slightly at the bluntness of his words but doesn't deny it. "That... that's correct," he affirms, his voice a bit strained. "We were both a bit... impaired when we tied the knot, let's put it that way."

Toto rubs his forehead, seeming to struggle with how to respond to this information. He gathers himself and looks at them again, his expression more somber now. "And what exactly were you doing that led to this... marriage?" he asks, his tone slightly stern.

Lewis and Y/n exchange a glance, both knowing the answer will likely not help their case. Lewis speaks up first, his voice a bit sheepish. "We, ah... we were at a club. A very lively club, if you understand."

Toto leans forward in his chair, expression now a mix of thoughtfulness and strategy. "Okay," he says, "this is clearly a situation that will need some serious damage control if it gets out. We'll need the PR team to make something, anything to spin this in a way that... minimizes the impact on your image, Lewis, and the teams' reputation."

Y/n coughs, breaking the silence in the room and drawing everyone's attention. She clears her throat, feeling a bit awkward under the weight of Toto and Lewis' gazes. "Um, forgive me," she apologizes, her voice a bit hoarse. "But what... what are you suggesting?"

Toto's eyes shift to her, his expression still calculating. "Well, we need to control the narrative," he explains. "We need to get ahead of any potential media storm and craft a story that… makes this look less like a drunken mistake and more like a… a romantic love story, perhaps."

Lewis can't help but scoff slightly at this, his mouth tugging into a wry smile. "A romantic love story, huh?" he muses, skepticism in his tone. "Do you really think anyone's going to believe that?"

Toto's gaze hardens at Lewis' flippant comment. "At this point, any narrative is better than the truth," he says, his voice firm. "We need to protect your image, Lewis, and the team's reputation. We need to control the damage, and that means spinning this in a way that… makes you both look as good as possible."

Y/n mutters under her breath as Toto and Lewis continue their discussion, unable to hide her growing concern. "My dad is going to kill me," she whispers, her voice a mixture of dread and resignation. She imagines her father's reaction to this news, the fury and disappointment in his eyes.

She finally speaks up, her mind turning to her own interests in this situation. "Wait," she interjects, cutting into Lewis and Toto's discussion. They both turn to her, surprised. "If we're going to go along with this… PR plan, I want something out of it too."

Toto and Lewis look at her, a bit taken aback by her unexpected request. Toto quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what is it you want, exactly?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution.

Y/n takes a deep breath, her mind racing as she formulates her request. "I want this to benefit me too," she says, her tone firm but tentative. "I don't just want to be a pawn in this charade. I want my own image to be protected, and… I want it to have a positive impact on my future, on my family's company."

Toto and Lewis exchange glances, both surprised but also understanding the logic in her request. Lewis turns to her with slight admiration, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's… very practical of you," he says, his voice carrying a hint of respect.

Y/n's response is matter-of-fact, and her expression is a mix of determination and practicality. "Business is business," she repeats, her tone resolute. "If we're going to play this game, we might as well use it to our advantage, right?"

Toto nods slightly, appreciating her mercenary approach. "You're not wrong," he concedes, a grudging respect in his voice. "If we can use this situation to our mutual benefit, then perhaps it won't be a total disaster."

Lewis looks at Y/n, a gleam of admiration in his eyes at her business-mindedness. "You've got guts," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips. "I can respect that."

Y/n chuckles a bit at his comment, the humor beginning to shine through despite the seriousness of their situation. "Well," she says with a small laugh, "if you want to get technical, that is one reason we got married, isn't it?"

Toto glares at Y/n, his gaze is stern and reprimanding. Y/n's eyes widen in response, and she immediately feels a pang of regret, realizing she has spoken out of turn. She mutters a quick "Sorry, too soon," her voice a whisper as she shrinks down in her seat.

Toto sighs, his expression softening slightly. "Let's remain professional, please," he reminds her, his tone a bit weary. "We need you to be present at the next Grand Prix, okay? Because by then we'll have the PR statement announced. Lewis can send you the details."

Y/n nods, a bit chastened but also understanding. "Okay," she apologizes again, her voice sincere. "I'll check my schedule if I'm free on... whatever day that is."

Toto nods in acknowledgment, his expression is still weary but slightly less stern. He turns his attention back to Lewis and continues the discussion, the mood in the room now more serious and focused.

With the focus of the conversation now shifted to Lewis and Toto, Y/n pulls out her phone, sensing that she isn't needed in the immediate discussion. She scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself from the ongoing conversation. Occasionally, she glances up, listening to bits and pieces of the talk, but mostly just biding her time.

Y/n scrolls through her Twitter feed, her eyes scanning over the various news and Tweets. Suddenly, something catches her eye, causing her to stand up from her seat and exclaim a surprised curse word.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Y/n exclaims, her voice laced with disbelief and shock. She stares down at her phone, the blood draining from her face as she processes whatever she has just seen.

Toto and Lewis' heads snap in her direction at the outburst. They look at her, startled and alarmed by her reaction. Toto's brow furrows in concern, and he asks, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Y/n holds out her phone to Toto, her face still etched with shock and disbelief. Toto takes the phone from her, his eyes widening as he looks at the screen. Lewis leans over to look as well, his expression turning serious as he reads whatever is on the screen.

Toto's jaw clenches as he looks at the image, his expression hard and guarded. He glances at Y/n, then back at the phone screen, seeming to be processing the implications of this photo.

Lewis shakes his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. "That's just perfect," he mutters sarcastically. "As if we didn't have enough to deal with already."

Toto continues scrolling through the tweet and reading comments from fans and media alike. He pauses, seeing several comments speculating that the woman in the photo is actually Y/n. His expression darkens with concern as he reads these comments.

He glances at Y/n, then at Lewis, and sighs deeply. "This is really bad," he says, his voice a low grumble. "If people start connecting the dots… we're going to have a PR nightmare on our hands."

Y/n is silently freaking out, her mind racing with thoughts and worries. She gnaws anxiously on her nails, a nervous habit she has when feeling overwhelmed.

Toto notes her distress but focuses on the practicalities of the situation for the moment, exchanging a few more words with Lewis.

Toto and Lewis quietly discuss the next steps, trying to come up with a damage control plan. Toto occasionally glances at Y/n, noticing her anxious behavior, but doesn't interrupt his conversation with Lewis for the moment.

Y/n suddenly pipes up, interrupting Toto and Lewis' conversation. "Wait," she interjects, her tone a bit frenzied. "What if we lied? What if… what if we said we've been married for almost a year? Like, we got married during the winter break?"

Toto's expression softens slightly as he contemplates Y/n's idea. "It's a possibility," he muses, his voice measured. "Getting married during the off-season would make sense, given the hectic schedule of the drivers. It would be more logical that Lewis would take time off for a wedding rather than a drunken elopement."

Lewis nods, seeing the logic in Y/n's suggestion. "It could work," he agrees, his tone less skeptical than before. "It would at least make the whole situation seem less impulsive and foolish, and more like… a planned commitment."

Y/n continues to gnaw anxiously on her nails, her eyes flitting between Toto and Lewis as she waits for them to make a decision. The weight of the situation, the impending lie they are about to concoct, hangs heavily on her mind.

Toto notices her distress but is still wrapped up in the discussion with Lewis, he decides to address it once they have a plan. "Let's work out the details," he says, his tone business-like. "We need to make sure our story is ironclad, and our timelines line up."

He turns to Y/n, his expression stern but not unsympathetic. "And I suggest you stop chewing on your nails," he remarks matter-of-factly. "We'll need to present a united, calm front, and that doesn't include nervous fidgeting."

Though Y/n stops biting her nails as Toto advises, her anxiety doesn't diminish. She transfers her nervous energy to her palms, starting to scratch and pick nervously at the skin, leaving slight crescent-shaped marks.

Toto notices her new anxious habit but doesn't address it directly at the moment. He and Lewis continue their discussion, fine-tuning the details of the lie they are going to spin. The atmosphere in the room remains tense, but there seems to be a rough plan coming together.

As the meeting draws to a close, Toto excuses himself to take a call from the head of PR. He motions for Y/n and Lewis to wait, and they remain silent in Toto's office as he steps out to take the call.

When Toto returns, he appears even more tense than before. He bids both Y/n and Lewis a rushed farewell, as he needs to deal with the situation with the head of PR. The two of them are left standing in the office, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of the day's events.

Lewis glances at Y/n, her face slightly pale and tired from the stress of the situation. He can tell that she's still anxious and tense, and he reaches out to gently squeeze her hand, offering a small gesture of comfort. "Hey," he says in a soft voice, "it's going to be okay. We're… we're going to get through this."

Y/n looks up at him, her eyes weary and full of worry. She tries to force a small smile, appreciating his attempt at reassurance. "I hope so," she replies, her voice a bit shaky. "I just… I hope we can pull this off. The lie…"

Lewis nods in understanding. "I know," he says, his tone sympathetic. "It's a lot to take on. But we don't have many options at this point. If we don't control the narrative, someone else will, and…" he trails off, the implication clear.

Y/n nods, knowing that he's right. "I get it," she mutters, her voice laced with resignation. "I just… I didn't sign up for all this, you know? All this… lying, and spinning stories, and… pretending."

Y/n lets out a humorless chuckle, her voice resigned. "You're telling me," she says sarcastically. "I didn't even sign up for this marriage, not while I was sober at least... and now I have to lie about it, pretend it was pre-planned, and… play the part of the dutiful wife."

She shakes her head, the absurdity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders. "It's just… surreal," she continues her tone a mix of disbelief and frustration. "A few days ago, I was a private person, living my life, and now I'm suddenly… a married woman, the center of a media shitstorm, and I'm expected to lie about it all like it's no big deal."

As they walk down the halls, Y/n is still somewhat zoned out, her mind preoccupied with the stresses and worries of the day. Lewis is right beside her, his hand occasionally on her lower back, providing silent moral support. They pass by other team members and staff, and more than a few curious glances and whispers follow them, aware of the situation unfolding but unwilling to speak openly.

They reach the parking lot, and Lewis turns to Y/n, his expression concerned. "Do you want me to drive you home?" he asks gently, his tone sincere. "You look exhausted."

Y/n nods, her fatigue clearly visible in her eyes and demeanor. "Yeah," she replies, her voice a weary whisper. "That would be great, thanks. I'm… I'm feeling pretty wiped out."

Lewis nods in understanding and leads her towards his car. The trip to her home is mostly silent, both of them too emotionally drained to talk much. Lewis occasionally glances at her, checking if she is okay. Y/n just gazes out the window, her thoughts far away.

He follows the directions given by Y/n to her apartment. The car ride is quiet, neither of them speaking much due to the weight of the situation on their minds. Once they arrive at her apartment, Lewis parks the car but doesn't immediately get out. Instead, he turns to her, his expression a mixture of worry and concern.

Lewis watches as Y/n unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. Before she can open the door, he turns to her and asks, "You're going to be okay, right? You'll be okay alone? I can stay with you if you want."

Y/n offers a weary smile, touched by Lewis's concern. "I… I'll be fine," she assures him, her voice soft but strained. "You don't need to stay. I just… need some time to process all this. Alone."

Lewis accepts her decision to be alone, though his expression remains worried. "Okay," he says softly, "Take care of yourself, alright? And… call me if you need anything. Anytime, okay?"

She nods slightly, appreciating his offer. "Thanks, I will," she replies. "I'll… I'll be fine. I just need a bit of space to clear my head."

Y/n exits the car, her movements slow and weary. The weight of the situation seems to hang heavily on her shoulders as she stands outside her apartment, looking up at the building.

Lewis watches her from the driver's seat, a mixture of concern and sadness on his face. He waits a moment to make sure she gets inside safely before driving off.

July 8, Monday, 10:37 AM

As Y/n begins to unlock her apartment door, she hears the familiar sound of her cat meowing on the other side. The sound is both a comfort and a further reminder of her responsibilities, and she feels a pang of fondness mixed with exhaustion.

After unlocking the door, she pushes it open and is immediately met with the soft sound of her cat rubbing against her legs, meowing for attention. Y/n bends down and scoops up the cat in her arms, holding it close to her chest, seeking comfort in its presence.

She holds her cat “Extra Virgin Olive Oil” (“Evoo” for short) close, the familiar warmth and weight of her furry companion a soothing presence. The ridiculousness of the name, a result of yet another drunken decision, momentarily brings a bittersweet smile to her lips.

Y/n walks into the apartment, closing the door behind her and making her way to the living room. She sits down on the couch, setting her bag on the floor before setting Evoo down on her lap and gently stroking his white fur. The soothing motion and rhythmic purring of the cat help to calm her tumultuous thoughts.

As Y/n sits on the couch, gently stroking her cat, she begins to speak to him in a soft, quiet voice. Although it’s not unusual for people to talk to their pets, there’s an undertone of vulnerability in her words, unloading her worries to a receptive but silent companion.

“Hi, baby,” she begins, her voice laced with exhaustion. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” She continues to idly pet the cat in her lap, the gentle motion seeming to soothe her as much as her cat. “I… I’ve gotten myself into a real mess, you know? Things are… complicated, to say the least.”

She leans her head back against the couch, her fingers continuing to absently run through the white cat’s fur. “I know you’re just a cat, and you probably don’t understand what I’m saying. But it helps, talking to you like this. It helps to get it all out, even if you can’t talk back.”

As Y/n continues to talk, the words flow out of her in a rushed confession. “And… that’s not even the craziest, Evoo,” she murmurs, shaking her head slightly. “I got married. Can you believe that?”

Her cat, as if responding to her words, looks up at her with its large eyes, seemingly bewildered by the revelation. It tilts its head as if asking “What?!”

Y/n lets out a soft, humorless chuckle at her cat’s reaction, continuing to stroke its fur. “Yeah, I know. It’s crazy, right?” she continues, her voice still heavy with exhaustion but holding a hint of irony. “I… I got married, and I don’t even remember most of it. Isn’t that just wild?”

She pushes aside her exhaustion and moves from the couch, placing Evoo gently on the nearby rug. She then remembers to change her cat’s water bowl, her actions automatic and routine. As she fills the bowl from the kitchen sink, she glances back at her cat, still resting on the rug.

“Don’t worry, bud,” she calls out, her voice slightly less weary, “He’s… he’s a good guy. I think.”

After refilling the water bowl, Y/n returns to the living room, her mind still swirling with the day’s events. She glances at Evoo, who is now lapping up the fresh water. For a moment, she wishes her life was as simple as a cat’s, where the most pressing concern was the next meal, not an unexpected marriage and a web of lies.

Y/n rubs his head one last time before straightening up. “Alright, buddy,” she says, her tone softer now that she’s attending to her cat’s needs. “I’m going to take a bath. Be a good boy while I’m gone, alright?”

She sits in the bathtub, the water warm and comforting, surrounding her tired body in a soothing embrace. An iPad is placed on a wooden bath tray near the edge of the tub, playing a movie that she’s only partially paying attention to.

In her hand, she holds a glass of lemon water, taking small sips every now and then as she there, letting the hot water work its relaxing magic.

The scent of lavender from a bath bomb fills the room, adding to the atmosphere of calm and tranquility. However, despite the peaceful setting, Y/n’s mind remains restless, the events of the day still weighing heavily on her thoughts. Despite trying to focus on the movie, she finds her mind wandering back to the marriage, the lie, the future.

As the stream from the bath billows around her, Y/n takes another small sip from her lemon water, her mind still spinning. The bath was intended to relax her, to wash away the tension of the day, but her thoughts stubbornly refused to let her rest. She tries to force herself to watch the movie, to focus on something other than her worries, but the events of the day keep flooding back.

The heat of the bath, combined with the subtle fragrance of the lavender, should be lulling her into a tranquil state, but her mind is too chaotic, too filled with worries and regrets. She takes another sip of her lemon water, the tangy taste reminding her of the sourness she feels inside, the unease that hasn't let her go since this whole mess began.

Y/n is wrapped in a towel, her wet hair sticking to her shoulders as she steps out of her bedroom and into the living/dining space. She's surprised to see Lyka walking in with a bright smile, a stark contrast to her own weary state.

Y/n, still wrapping the towel around herself, glances up at Lyka through wet strands of hair. "You seem unusually cheerful," she remarks, her tone slightly teasing as she reaches the kitchen and sets her glass down in the sink. Evoo brushes against her leg, seeking attention, and she gives the cat a gentle pat before turning back to Lyka. "What's up?"

Lyka's eyes sparkle with excitement and a hint of pride. "The best night ever," she echoes, her smile widening. "You won't believe it, Y/n. I hooked up with the DJ."

Y/n raises her brows in surprise and recognition. "Oh, Lando?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone. "I saw you dancing with him at the booth last night."

Lyka blinks in surprise when Y/n says Lando's name, her excitement now mixed with a touch of curiosity. "Yeah!- Wait, how do you know his name?" she asks, her expression a mix of surprise and intrigue.

Y/n settles onto a bar stool, opening the wrapper to a small piece of chocolate. She takes a small bite of the chocolate and continues talking to Lyka as she munches on the sweet treat. "I became friends with one of Lando's friends last night," she explains, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Her playful smile fades as the memory of her marriage hits her like a ton of bricks. She chokes mid-sentence, the taste of chocolate turning bitter in her mouth. "I... um..." she stutters, her mind racing to find a way to explain.

"I... I have something to tell you," she manages to continue, her voice a bit strained. She sets the chocolate bar down, her appetite suddenly gone. "And... it's kind of a big deal. Like, a really big deal."

Lyka's expression changes as she senses the seriousness in Y/n's tone. Her eyes widened slightly, and she leaned in, her face replaced by a look of concern. "What is it?" she asks, her voice low and worried.

Y/n takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the reaction that's about to follow. "I..." she starts, her voice faltering as she struggles to find the right words. "I... I got married."

There's a moment of stunned silence as Lyka processes Y/n's confession. Her eyes widen even further, and her hand grips the countertop, her knuckles turning white. "You... you what?" she manages to stutter out, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief.

"And... it may or may not have been a friend of Lando's...." Lyka's eyes widen even further when Y/n clarifies that the person she married is a friend of Lando. "Wait..." she starts, her mind spinning with the implications. "You married one of Lando's friends? Who..."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows hard, preparing herself for the fallout. "Lewis," she finally manages to say. "I... I married Lewis."

As Lyka tries to remember if Lando mentioned anything Lewis, a flicker of recognition appears in her eyes. "Wait..." she says, her soft soft as she recalls the conversation with Lando. "Lando mentioned something about a party of celebrate one of his friends' win. Was that Lewis?"

Y/n doesn't trust herself to speak, so she just nods in affirmation. She can see the pieces falling into place in Lyka's mind, her friend digesting the information with a mix of surprise and confusion.

Lyka lifts her hands in a gesture of disbelief, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and incredulity. "I swear, the universe has a weird sense of humor when it comes to you and alcohol," she says, shaking her head. "Seriously, the weirdest things happen to you when you're drunk. It's like you're attracting weirdness or something."

As Y/n gets up to change, she can't help but notice that Lyka is wearing a hoodie she doesn't recognize. She decides to bring it up later, as they have plenty to discuss when they regroup in the kitchen.

"Alright, let's change and meet here in five," Y/n suggests, her tone a bit lighter now. "We'll compare our crazy nights, and you can tell me about your new hoodie too," she adds with a smile.

Lyka flushes furiously as Y/n hints at the hoodie she's wearing, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "Oh my god, shut up," she giggles, trying to hide her embarrassment. "It's just a hoodie, okay?"

Y/n grins knowingly as she responds, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, it's Lando's hoodie," she teases, emphasizing the name for effect. "And you're blushing like crazy."

Lyka buries her face in her hands, still blushing profusely. "Ugh, I swear, you're the worst," she groans, half-heartedly swatting at Y/n "Why do you have to point it out like that?"

Y/n laughs, enjoying the sight of her flustered friend. "Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing," she says, her voice filled with amusement. She moves towards her room, still smiling at Lyka's reaction. "You get changed, and I'll do the same. Meet you in the kitchen in five."

Y/n sits next to Lyka, a soft smile on her face. As they settle into their seats by the counter, Lyka begins recounting her night with Lando. Her cheeks are still a little flushed, betraying her excitement.

"So, about last night..." she says, her voice slightly giddy, "I had the best night ever with Lando."

Y/n takes a chip from the bowl on the counter, chewing on it as she listens to her friend's story. "Yeah?" she prompts. encouraging Lyka to continue. "Tell me more. What made it the best night ever?"

Lyka emphasizes her point, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "His hands were skilled," she repeats, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Seriously, Y/n, you have no idea. He was so fucking good."

"His touches, his moves, everything just... wow," Lyka continues, the memory clearly relived in her mind. She takes a sip of her water, her gaze distant for a moment before she focuses on Y/n. "I swear, it was like he knew exactly what to do, and how to do it."

Lyka's excitement reaches a whole new level as she starting bouncing in her seat. "Oh my god," she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and excitement. "When he was-" She suddenly breaks off, her words catching in her throat.

She cuts off her own sentence, biting her lip as if holding back a secret. There's a mixture of delight and surprise on her face. "He... he was just-" she stammers, struggling to put the experience into words. "It was incredible," she finally manages, her voice full of awe.

Y/n listens intently, smiling at her friend's enthusiasm. She can tell that whatever Lando did, it clearly surpassed Lyka's expectations. "Incredible, huh?" she teases, raising a brow. "Sounds like Lando's got some serious skills there."

Lyka takes a moment to fan herself, the memory of her night with Lando still fresh in her mind. "Yeah... yeah I was," she says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I was shaking like a leaf by the time it was done."

She looks down at her hands as if reliving the sensation. "It was tense," she adds, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, seriously intense. I don't think I could have handled much more."

Lyka lets out a shaky breath, a mixture of pleasure and disbelief in her voice. "Yeah," she replies, her face still flushed. "He just... he just kept going, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore. It was... it was too much, but in the best way possible, you know?"

She takes another sip of her water, her body still feeling the after-effects of Lando's touches. "He knew exactly what he was doing," she adds, a hint of admiration in her voice. "I've never experienced anything like it before."

Y/n can't resist teasing a little more, a sly smile on her face. "Well," she says, raising a brow, "Maybe Lando was just making up for the disappointing performance your ex put on."

Lyka, still flushed and giggling, enthusiastically agrees with Y/n's assessment. "ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY!" she exclaims, her voice loud and clear. "Lando was the complete opposite of my ex. He made up for that shitshow tenfold."

She takes a moment to catch her breath, her face still glowing. She can't help but gush about Lando's attributes, her voice filled with awed excitement. "I swear, he was HUGE," she says, her voice filled with excitement.

Y/n laughs, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. "Shh, shh, keep it down," she shushes her friend, laughing as she glances toward the wall shared with their neighbors. "The whole building doesn't need to know about Lando's... size."

Lyka, still caught up in the memory of her night with Lando, continues to rave about his skills and his 'size' ''I don't even know how to describe it," she gushes, her voice filled with admiration. "There's just... no comparison. Lando's in a league of his own."

She's so caught up in her praise that she practically glows. "I never knew it could be like that," she admits, her flushed cheeks a clear indication of her satisfaction. "He knows how to handle everything."

Lyka's voice softens as she reflects on the night, her face now taking on a more tender expression. "He was so gentle and caring afterward," she says, a hint of fondness in her tone. "It was like he knew exactly what I needed."

Y/n, curious about the tender side of Lando, asks how exactly he was caring after their night together. Lyka's expression softens even more as she continues. "He was really sweet," she explains. "He held me close, and told me how amazing I was. Kept asking if I was okay, and if I needed anything. Just really took care of me, you know?"

"Oh, and he left me a shit ton of hickeys too," Lyka mentions, causing Y/n to involuntarily spit out her drink in surprise. Y/n's eyes widen as Lyka casually mentions that detail. She was taking a sip of her drink at the same moment, causing her to almost choke on the liquid, spurting it out in surprise. "Hickeys?" she exclaims, her voice slightly strained. "Lando gave you hickeys?"

Lyka grins widely, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She shifts the collar of her shirt to reveal several small, purplish marks on her collarbone and neck. "Yeah," she says, her voice a bit smug. "He marked me up, good."

Lyka lets out a cheeky giggle, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, yeah," she confirms, her voice slightly lower. "He left some on my thighs too, but Lando said those were for his eyes only."

Y/n can't help but stare at her friend in disbelief. Her mouth is still slightly agape, her eyes wide as she processes the information. "For his eyes only, huh?" she manages to say, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

She shakes her head, a little bemused by Lando's possessiveness. "Sounds like Lando wants to keep you all to himself," she teases, grinning. "No sharing allowed."

Lyka grins, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, absolutely," she confirms, giggling. "We made a deal. He wants to be my friend with benefits," she says, using air quotes, "And I just have to look pretty and make him feel good." She adds with a coy smile, paraphrasing Lando's words.

Lyka brightens up even more, her voice eager and excited. "Oh, and I'm going to his next race too!" she exclaims, bouncing a little in her seat. "I'll be in the McLaren garage, of course. Lando said he wants me there."

Y/n nods, a smile on her face. "I'll be there too, slightly against my will," she confirms, "But I'll be in the Mercedes garage." She glances at her friend, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "This is gonna be fun, watching the race from opposite ends of the garage."

"So... what about your night?" Lyka asks curiously, looking at Y/n with amusement through her eyelashes.

Y/n takes a moment, her mind flashing back to the events of her night. "My night…" she muses, her voice a little dreamy. "Well, it was… eventful, to say the least."

She lets out a soft chuckle, the memory of the night still fresh in her mind. "So, I was on the dance floor, just dancing, and Lewis came up behind me," she recalls, her voice laced with a hint of excitement.

Y/n glances at Lyka before continuing, her voice taking on a wry tone. "Yeah, it was around the time you went to dance with Lando," she says, clearly amused by the coincidence. "Lewis just appeared out of nowhere, tapped me on the shoulder, and we started dancing."

She smiles, her cheeks slightly flushed as she describes the night. "We were talking, flirting a bit," she says, her voice holding a hint of excitement. "He bought me drinks at the bar, and we just… connected, I guess."

Y/n lets out a light laugh, her cheeks flushing a little at the memory. "Yeah, so… eventually… we may have found a secluded spot and, you know, things got a bit heated," she explains, a coy smile playing on her lips. "And I may or may not have told him I'd marry him as a joke."

She shakes her head, still amused by the audacity of her own words. "I don't even know where it came from," she says. "Just a spur-of-the-moment thing, you know? A little drunken banter."

Y/n continues, her voice filled with amusement. "Well, Lewis just chuckled when I said it," she recounts. "I mean, he knew I was just joking, right? But then he just… playfully agreed, you know? Like, he said something like, 'Sure, why not? Let's get hitched.' It was all just goofing around, really."

Y/n sees the look on Lyka's face and knows her friend is judging her, but it's in a friendly way. She laughs, shaking her head. "Hey, don't give me that look," she says, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "It was just a joke, you know that, right?"

Lyka gives Y/n a sly smile, her voice filled with mock disbelief. "A joke that turned into an actual marriage," she repeats, her tone dripping with cheeky sarcasm. "Wow, I hope Lewis doesn't mind waking up to your morning breath every day."

Y/n playfully smacks Lyka's arm, laughing. "Hey, my morning breath isn't that bad," she protests, her voice light with feigned offense.

She then swats at Lyka again, her smile broadening. "And for the record, I would make an amazing wife," she boasts, her voice half-joking, half-serious.

Y/n straightens her shoulders, posing theatrically. "I'd be, like, the perfect trophy wife. I'd look good standing next to Lewis during his press conferences and podium interviews."

Lyka laughs out loud at Y/n's confident declaration. "Oh my god," she snickers, her voice filled with mirth. "You're actually picturing yourself as a trophy wife? Standing there, looking pretty while Lewis talks about racing strategy and tire compounds?"

Y/n grins, raising a brow at Lyka. "And what about you?" she asks a hint of challenge in her voice. "Can you see yourself doing the same for Lando? Standing there, looking gorgeous, while he talks about car setup and track conditions?"

Lyka nods with conviction, a sparkle in her eyes. "Absolutely, yes," she affirms. "I can totally picture myself looking all cute and pretty, with a whole wardrobe of amazing outfits courtesy of Lando's earnings. It's all about the perks, you know?"

She grins mischievously. "Besides, watching Lando on the track, all focused and intense, and then coming home to spoil me rotten? Sounds pretty damn good to me."

Y/n nods, her lips curving into a smile. "You know what, you have a point there," she admits, her voice laced with a touch of envy. "Getting to watch Lewis race, all focused and competitive, and then having him come home and… well, show me just how much he appreciates me… yeah, I could get used to that."

She quirks an eyebrow, glancing at the calendar. "Alright, when's the next race again?" she asks, her voice slightly impatient. "I need to check if I'm free that day, cause Toto- his team principal, I believe? said that I have to be there. Some PR bullshit."

Y/n pulls out her phone, quickly searching for the race schedule. "Lemme see," she murmurs, scrolling through her screen. "There we go. The next race is two weeks from now... Let's see… yep, I'm free that day."

She puts her phone away, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "All clear," she affirms. "I'll be there, cheering on Lewis every lap of the way."

Lyka smirks, her voice dripping with playfully sarcastic praise. "Oh, you're such a good wife," she teases. "Making sure you're always available to support your husband's racing career. That's true devotion right there."

Y/n laughs, returning the teasing with a sly grin. "And what about you?" she asks, raising a brow. "Ready to be Lando's arm candy, showing off all those designer outfits he'll buy you?"

Lyka nods vigorously, her face already picturing the fancy outfits she'd wear. "Oh, absolutely," she declares, her voice oozing with enthusiasm. "I'm so ready to be Lando's arm candy, strutting around in all the gorgeous designer outfits he'll spoil me with."

Lyka takes a moment to swallow her chip and then adds, "And hey, speaking of Lando's stuff, I actually need to return that hoodie he lent me. Gotta make sure he gets it back."

She grins mischievously. "Although, maybe I'll 'accidentally' keep it a day or two longer just to remind him of me."

Y/n tsks, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Oh, wow," she chuckles, her tone laced with feigned surprise. "That's such harlot behavior, keeping a guy's hoodie just to remind him of yourself."

Lyka looks at Y/n in exaggerated shock, her mouth dropping open in mock offense. "Harlot? Really?" she exclaims, her voice filled with laughter. "Out of all the words you could've chosen, you went with harlot! That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Y/n shrugs, unable to keep a straight face. "What? It fits!" she replies, her voice laced with mirth. "You're deliberately keeping his hoodie longer just to keep his attention on you. If that isn’t harlot behavior, then I don't know what is."

Lyka rolls her eyes dramatically, a playful grin on her face. "Oh, please," she exclaims, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "It's not harlot behavior, it's strategic flirting. There's a difference."

Y/n chuckles, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay," she concedes, her voice still tinged with laughter. "You can call it whatever you want. Strategic flirting, friendly teasing, whatever floats your boat."

July 8, Monday, 4:51 PM

Y/n is in the middle of preparing dinner, peeling potatoes and chopping veggies, when her phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. She glances down at it curiously, setting down her knife for a moment.

After a few moments, Y/n finishes replying to Lewis' message, a small smile on her face. She sets down her phone, the conversation with Lewis momentarily distracting her from her cooking preparations.

Y/n continues chopping vegetables, her hands moving deftly as she's suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka's phone ringing. She stops for a moment, looking up as Lyka grabs her phone.

Lyka's face lights up with surprise as she answers the phone, hearing Lando's voice on the line. "Oh! Hey, Lando," she replies, her voice already cheerful.

Y/n can't help but smile at Lyka's reaction, hearing the change in her tone. She continues chopping vegetables as she listens to Lyka's side of the conversation.

Lyka's voice is filled with excitement as she responds to Lando's question. "Yes, I'll get the tickets for the flight myself," she confirms, her voice slightly giddy. "I'll be there by Friday, no problem."

Her face flushes with a rosy hue as Lando brings up the subject of his hoodie. She lets out a soft, nervous chuckle and replies, a hint of playful charm in her voice, "Ah, about the hoodie… Well, I was actually thinking I might hang onto it a little longer."

Y/n, unable to contain her amusement, lets out a soft giggle, drawing Lyka's attention. She glances at her friend, a sly smile on her face.

Lyka continues the conversation with Lando, her voice taking on a flirtatious tone as she playfully teases him. "You know, if you miss the hoodie that much, you'll just have to come and get it from me yourself…"

Y/n stops mid-preparation, her eyes widening as she eavesdrops on Lyka's conversation. She gapes at her friend for a brief moment, surprised by the boldness of her response.

She can't help but chuckle to herself, thinking, "Lyka's really turning on the charm. Lando's going to be all over her when he gets that hoodie back…"

Lyka continues the conversation, her voice dropping to a sultry tone. "It seems like you miss this hoodie more than you miss me, if you're that desperate to get your hoodie back, maybe we should meet up tomorrow…"

Lyka smiles widely as Lando agrees to meet up the next day. "Great, I'll send you my address in a moment," she replies, her voice a mix of anticipation. "I need to go now, though. But I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

Y/n watches the exchange with a mixture of amusement and surprise. She can't help but shake her head in disbelief as Lyka ends the call, a cheeky smile on her face.

"Wow," Y/n says, her voice filled with admiration. "You really have Lando wrapped around your finger, don't you?"

Lyka grins, her cheeks still flushed with a hint of a blush. "What can I say? I have my ways of persuasion," she replies, a coy smirk on her face.

Y/n laughs at Lyka's response, amused by her friend's confidence. She continues preparing dinner, adding the ingredients to the pot and stirring it together in the pot, her mind temporarily preoccupied as she focuses on her cooking task. The kitchen emits a warm, savory aroma, the spices blending together to create a mouthwatering scent.

Y/n is suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka spitting out her tea, accompanied by an annoyed meow from Evoo. She looks up, slightly startled, setting down her spoon to look over at her friend.

"Whoa, what happened?" Y/n asks, looking at Lyka, who's wiping her mouth with a napkin. Her eyes move to the cat, who's also looking slightly grumpy from the unexpected spray.

Lyka, still catching her breath, quickly points at Y/n's phone, which is on the kitchen counter. "Check your Instagram," she says urgently, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Y/n grabs her phone from the kitchen counter, a look of curiosity on her face. She swipes through her notifications and opens Instagram, as per Lyka's instruction.

Y/n scans through her Instagram timeline and her heart skips a beat as she catches the first article. The statement from Mercedes about her marriage to Lewis is plastered right on her screen. She reads through it, disbelief and surprise etched across her face.

mercedesf1

liked by lewishamilton, george_russell, lyka.val and 563,447 others mercedesamgf1 Following the recent victory at Silverstone, unauthorized images of one of our drivers and his private life have been leaked. We respect our driver’s privacy and are addressing the situation with the seriousness it deserves. Here’s Toto’s reaction to the matter.

user44 HE'S WHAT? FOR HOW LONG?

lewishamiltonfan446427 who the fuck is y/n.... ↳ george.jpg i just searched her up, she used to be a model! she's still active on social media so it isn't that hard to find her account

mercluvr I'M SORRY???

nepobbylver ms rabbit has fainted.

y/nfan1 I'M GOING INSANE??????????????????????????

lewis.hamiltons.gf does this mean i have to change my username...?

y/nfan2 WHEN DID THEY MEET WHAT

y/nfan3 WHEN WHERE WHAT HOW WHEN HUH

rockstarlewis this is some 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 shit dude

wtfmerc so it WAS y/n

A mix of emotions floods through her as she continues reading. She feels a wave of shock, followed by a pang of confusion. Y/n grips her phone tighter, her eyes glued to the words on the screen.

Y/n looks up from her phone, her voice quivering with surprise and a hint of concern. "I didn't know they were releasing this statement today," she replies, her words tinged with a mixture of confusion and anxiety.

Her voice becomes more frantic, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. "It was just an idea I pitched! The whole 'married for 6 months' thing- it wasn't supposed to be taken seriously, not this soon at least!"

She paces around the kitchen, her heart pounding with worry and uncertainty. "I never thought they'd actually make a statement about it without speaking to me first," she mutters, her voice betraying her growing anxiety.

As Y/n continues to pace anxiously, biting on her nails, Lyka takes action. She stands up from the counter and gently grasps Y/n's shoulders, trying to anchor her in the moment.

"Hey, hey," Lyka says in a soothing tone. "Take a deep breath, okay? Panicking isn't going to help the situation."

Y/n nods, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She takes a few deep breaths, letting the air fill her lungs and gradually slowing down her frenzied heartbeat.

Y/n is snapped out of her anxious thoughts as her phone rings loudly in her hand, jolting her back to reality. She glances down at the screen, wondering who could be calling her at this moment.

Her eyes widen as she sees her father's name on the caller ID. She stares at the screen for a moment, her mind swirling with thoughts. Taking another deep breath, she swipes to answer the call.

"Hello?" she says, her voice slightly shaky as she brings the phone to her ear.

She listens intently as her father's voice comes through the other end of the line, waiting anxiously for whatever he has to say. Y/n's father's voice is stern but concerned. "Y/n," he begins, "Have you seen the statement released by Mercedes?"

Y/n holds the phone a little tightly, her heart rate increasing again. "Dad," she begins, "Yes, I just saw it on Instagram. But listen, it's not what it seems-"

Her father's voice cuts her off, filled with disbelief and disappointment. "Not what it seems? It says you've been married to Lewis for 6 months. Explain that."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her mind racing to come up with a viable explanation. Feeling cornered, she decides to go along with the lie, knowing that the truth will lead to even more disappointment and shame from her father.

"Okay, okay," she says, her voice quivering slightly. "Yes, it's true we got married. But Dad, please understand, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. We wanted to keep it quiet, that's why we didn't tell anyone right away…"

Y/n listens to her father's scolding, her heart sinking further with each question. "I know, I know," she responds, her voice filled with guilt and remorse. "I should have told you sooner. But Dad, you have to understand, Lewis and I wanted to keep things private at first. The public attention can be overwhelming, and we wanted to enjoy our newlywed bliss in peace…"

Y/n feels a lump form in her throat as she hears the disappointment in her father's voice. This is a first for her—she's never had to lie to her father before, and the guilt starts to weigh heavily on her heart. Fresh tears well up in her eyes, but she tries to maintain her composure on the phone.

Lyka sees the tears in Y/n's eyes and immediately takes notice, her face filled with concern. She walks over to her friend and starts rubbing her back soothingly, a silent show of support and solidarity.

Y/n's father continues to press, his tone slightly more subdued now, "And when can we meet Lewis? Your mother deserves to meet him as soon as possible. We can't just be finding out about your husband on social media, for goodness sake!"

Y/n swallows hard, the weight of the lie becoming more palpable. She racks her brain for an answer, trying to come up with a believable timeframe. "Uh, well, we're actually not together right now... he's still... with his family...," she says, her voice still shaky. "Maybe… Maybe this week? Or when their summer break begins?"

Her father remains silent for a moment, mulling over the proposed timeline. "Very well," he finally responds, his voice still edged with disappointment. "We'll plan something for next week then. I expect a proper introduction and explanation. No more secrets, understood?"

Y/n nods, even though her father can't see her. "Yes, Dad, understood. No more secrets," she mutters, her voice tinged with a mix of guilt and resignation.

After the call ends, Y/n closes her phone, a deep sigh escaping her lips. The weight of the lie and the disappointment from her father hang heavily on her shoulders. She feels like a guilty teenager all over again.

Lyka sees the distress etched on Y/n's face and quickly strides over to her, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting hug. "It's going to be okay," she whispers softly, trying to soothe her friend's troubled heart.

Y/n takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and trying to rein in her emotions. She then looks over at Lyka, a newfound determination etched on her face. "I need to let Lewis know about the situation with my father," she says, her voice steadying slightly.

She swiftly opens her phone and navigates to Lewis' contact. She knows she needs to inform him about the recent turn of events. Her fingers grip the phone tighter as she starts typing a message to him.

Y/n closes her phone and sighs, her body still feeling the emotional toll from the conversation with her father. Seeing that Lyka has taken over the cooking, Y/n moves to a nearby chair and plops down, still mulling over the recent developments.

While sitting on the chair, she takes a moment to mentally process everything that has happened. Her mind is filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions - the lie, the need to maintain the facade, the guilt of deceiving her father, and the impending meeting with Lewis and her parents.

July 14th, 5:34 PM

The two sit in the car, the engine idling in the driveway of Y/n's childhood home. The atmosphere in the car is tense, and both of them are dreading the upcoming meeting with Y/n's parents.

She takes a deep breath, stealing a glance at Lewis before speaking up. "Okay, here's the plan," she begins, her voice a mixture of conviction and anxiety.

Y/n goes over the 'story' again, recapping the timeline of their 'relationship.' "We met during my vacation- your Christmas break of 2022, and became friends for about two months before you started courting me for three more months," she reminds Lewis. "We started dating after that, dated for five months, got engaged for around two months, and then got married in mid-January. Got it?"

Lewis nods, taking in the timeline and details of their fictional relationship. He's clearly trying to commit everything to memory, fully aware of the importance of maintaining a consistent story in front of Y/n's parents.

Y/n takes another deep breath, her hand fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Just remember, the key is to stay consistent and make it believable," she adds, her voice a tad shakier than before.

Lewis reaches out and takes Y/n's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We can do this," he says, his voice filled with determination and reassurance. "We just have to stick to the story and not let our nerves get the better of us."

Y/n nods, reassured by Lewis' words and the gentle squeeze of his hand. "You're right," she says, her voice steadier now. "Stick to the story, stay cool, and we'll get through this."

Lewis turns off the ignition, and the engine falls silent. Both of them unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of the car. Standing in the driveway, they take a moment to glance at each other, preparing themselves for the upcoming interaction.

Y/n's heart pounds in her chest as she and Lewis approach the front door. The familiar surroundings of her childhood home bring back a mixture of emotions—nostalgia, nervousness, and the weight of the lie they're about to perpetuate.

She reaches out and rings the doorbell, the sound echoing through the peaceful neighborhood. They wait for a few moments, the anticipation growing with each passing second.

The maid opens the door and greets Y/n and Lewis warmly. "Hello, welcome," she says with a friendly smile. "Your father is still in his study doing some paperwork and your mother is helping the chefs with the dishes. They should be finished soon."

Y/n thanks the maid and glances at Lewis, a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She leads him into the house, the familiar scent of her childhood home filling her nostrils.

She takes Lewis' hand and leads him into the living room. The spacious room is tastefully decorated with a mix of antique and modern furniture, a reflection of her family's taste and style. She guides him to a cozy sofa and motions for him to take a seat.

As they settle onto the sofa, the maid follows behind them and asks, "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water, perhaps?"

Y/n turns to the maid and responds, her voice a bit tense. "I'll have cold water, please. Thank you."

She then turns to Lewis, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy despite her inner turmoil. "Would you like anything, Lewis? Water, coffee, tea…?"

Lewis looks at Y/n and then at the maid and replies, "I'll have tea, please. Thank you."

As the maid exits the living room Lewis sidles closer to Y/n on the sofa, draping an arm around her in a comforting gesture. He leans in and whispers something in her ear, his voice low and barely audible to anyone else.

In a quiet voice, Lewis whispers to Y/n, "Are there any cameras in the living room?" He asks the question, his gaze subtly glancing around for any visible signs of surveillance equipment.

Y/n is slightly taken aback by Lewis' arm around her, but she collects herself quickly. In a hushed tone, she whispers back, "Yes, there are cameras. They're hidden in various spots around the room, my father has access to the cameras from his study."

Lewis places a soft kiss on Y/n's temple and then pulls her closer, his voice a low murmur. "I know, I probably should have asked for your permission before doing that, but I thought it might help our act. For all we know, your father could be watching us on those cameras at this very moment."

Y/n can feel her heart rate increase a bit at Lewis' proximity and his reasoning behind the kiss. She glances at the hidden cameras, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. She nods subtly, understanding the necessity of keeping up the act.

The two of them maintain their close position on the couch, trying to appear as a married couple who are comfortable in each other's company. Y/n glances around discreetly, wondering how her father is handling the surveillance footage.

Just as they are about to continue their conversation, the maid re-enters the living room, carrying a tray with their drinks. She sets the tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa, placing a glass of cold water next to Y/n and a steaming cup of tea next to Lewis.

The maid arranges the drinks on the coffee table, the sound of the glass clinking against the tray cutting through the silence in the room. She then smiles politely at them before discretely exiting the living room again, leaving Y/n and Lewis alone with their beverages.

Y/n watches the maid exit, her heart rate slightly elevated. She picks up her glass and takes a small sip of water, her mind racing with a million thoughts. The sound of Lewis' tea cup being placed back on the coffee table breaks the silence, drawing her attention back to him.

As Y/n starts to bite her nail, Lewis reaches out and gently moves her hand away from her mouth, his gaze meeting hers with reassurance. "Hey," he whispers "It's going to be okay. I'm here with you, every step of the way. We'll get through this together, alright?"

The simple act of Lewis gently stopping her from biting her nail serves as a small anchor, bringing Y/n back from the edge of her nervousness. She glances at him, his steady presence offering a small sense of comfort. She nods subtly, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and anxiety.

Y/n's breathing remains somewhat labored, the anxiety still coursing through her. Lewis takes her hand in his and begins rubbing his thumb against hers, a soothing motion that seems to ease her nerves, if only a little.

As she gazes at their intertwined hands, her eyes move up to the rings and tattoos adorning Lewis' fingers. The sight of them adds another layer to their carefully crafted pretense, the evidence of her supposed marriage right there on display for anyone who looks closely enough.

Their moment is interrupted as Y/n's mother walks into the living room. Her mother's presence brings Y/n back to reality, and the nerves come rushing back. She straightens up immediately, letting go of Lewis' hand to brush off any dust on her shirt and pants.

Y/n's mother enters the living room, her eyes lighting up as she sees her daughter and Lewis sitting together on the sofa. A warm smile graces her lips as she approaches them. "Hello, you two," she greets them, her voice filled with genuine affection.

As Y/m/n approaches, Y/n rises from the sofa, her movement slightly jerky due to her nerves. She tries to force a smile, hoping to appear normal, but the tension in her body is palpable.

Lewis follows Y/n as she nods, his hand gently moving to rest on her back, a small comfort in the face of the inevitable confrontation with her father.

He extends his hand towards Y/n's mother, his demeanor is polite and friendly. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you in person," he says with a warm smile. Y/n watches the interaction, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

The introduction occurs, Lewis offering his hand in greeting and Y/n's mother shaking it warmly. Y/n stands nearby, the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears drowning out almost everything else.

As Lewis shakes her mother's hand and exchanges greetings, Y/n's heart pounds louder in her ears. Her eyes flicker between the two, the casual interaction between her mother and Lewis standing in stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions churning within her.

Y/n watches as Lewis engages in pleasantries with her mother, and the polite exchange is a far cry from the anxiety that grips Y/n's insides. The sound of their voices and the sight of their interaction blur into the background as Y/n struggles to keep herself together.

Y/m/n gestures towards the dining room, saying, "Follow me to the dining room, please. Your father will join us in about five minutes." With a nod, Y/n and Lewis follow silently behind her, the nerves tightening in Y/n's stomach.

Lewis takes Y/n's hand again, his touch providing a source of comfort in the midst of the mounting tension. With a subtle gesture, he begins rubbing his thumb against hers, offering a silent reassurance.

The gentle, soothing motion of Lewis rubbing her thumb helps to ground Y/n, and the simple action is a small balm against the anxiety that threatens to consume her. She glances at him, silently expressing her gratitude through her eyes.

They enter the dining room, and Lewis takes a seat next to Y/n, his presence a silent comfort. Y/n sits down across from her mother, leaving her father's chair vacant. The sight of the empty chair sends a jolt of anxiety through Y/n, her palms beginning to sweat.

Y/n sits across from her mother, her eyes darting to the empty chair that her father is bound to occupy shortly. The sight of the vacant seat is a ghost of the man who is about to confront the facade they've created. Y/n's palms begin to sweat, and the nervous energy builds rapidly within her.

The silence in the dining room is nearly deafening. Y/n's mother makes small talk, but Y/n's mind is elsewhere, consumed by the impending arrival of her father. She glances again at the empty chair, the seconds ticking by like hours as they wait for him to join them.

The wait seems endless, Y/n's mother's attempts at small talk falling on deaf ears as Y/n's mind races with thoughts. Every sound seems magnified, and every breath echoes. The empty chair looms over the table like a storm cloud, its absence speaking louder than any words could.

It seems almost too well-timed. Just as the silence is about to become unbearably awkward, the butlers enter the room, gracefully serving the meals that have been prepared. The aroma of the food fills the air, but Y/n's stomach is in knots, the thought of eating almost impossible.

As they express gratitude to the butlers, Y/n's father proceeds to place food on his plate, his hands moving deftly. Still in the midst of his task, he begins to ask questions, his voice laced with authority and curiosity.

Y/n's father continues to plate his food as he asks questions, his words almost nonchalant, but his tone hinting at hidden scrutiny. "So, Lewis, how did you and Y/n meet?"

Lewis responds calmly to Y/n's father's question, his tone matter-of-fact. "We met back in 2022, during Y/n's Christmas vacation," he says. "It was a coincidence, really. We just sorta bumped into each other and started talking."

Her father nods, seemingly taking in the information, still focused on loading food onto his plate. His next question comes with a hint of intensity, "And when did you decide to get married?"

Y/n's father's question about their marriage takes her slightly off-guard. As her mind races, she accidentally drops her spoon, the metallic clatter bouncing off the walls of the quiet dining room. Her heart sinks, the unexpected question leaving her feeling even more exposed.

Y/n apologizes for the dropped spoon, her voice a bit shaky. Lewis takes over, answering her father's question calmly. "We decided to get married after being engaged for two months," he explains. "We actually got married right before the off-season started. It was quite a whirlwind, to be honest."

Y/n's mother interjects, curious about the term 'off-season.' "What do you mean by off-season?" she asks, her tone casually curious.

Lewis responds to Y/n's mother's question, his tone casually informative. "The off-season is sort of like Christmas break," he says. "It's the time of year when school is out, and everything kind of slows down for a while."

Y/n's mother nods, absorbing the explanation, and then proceeds to take a bite of her food. She seems reasonably content with the answer, her focus shifting back to her meal.

Y/n's father, seemingly unsatisfied with the previous answers, resumes asking his questions. His gaze remains fixed on a spoonful of soup, but his voice drips with a sense of authoritative interrogation.

He continues to question Lewis, his eyes focused on his bowl of soup as his voice pierces the air. "So, you're an athlete, correct?" he asks, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.

Lewis nods in confirmation, his demeanor still poised. "Yes, I am," he answers, his response firm.

Y/n's father persists with his questions, delving into practicalities. "How are you going to provide for Y/n when you're constantly traveling and training?" he probes, his tone skeptical.

Y/n's mother chimes in, gently nudging her husband and scolding him playfully. "Darling, you're acting as if Lewis is going to be your personal assistant," she admonishes, adding a little humor to the conversation.

Lewis chuckles lightly, finding a bit of humor in the situation. Y/n, on the other hand, lets out a somewhat awkward laugh, the tension still palpable beneath the facade of casual banter.

He responds to her father's question, his tone confident. "I have a well-established career, sir," he says. "I'm well-paid, and I can certainly provide for Y/n and any future family we might have."

As Lewis mentions potentially having a family, Y/n is caught off-guard and inadvertently causes herself to cough, the water going down the wrong pipe. She quickly composes herself while both their parents look at her in concern.

While Y/n recovers from her coughing fit, Lewis gently pats her back, a look of concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Y/n responds nervously, her voice a bit shaky. "Yeah, I'm fine," she reassures, trying to brush off the incident, her eyes darting between Lewis, her parents, and the water in her glass.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone light yet curious. "So, have you two thought about how big of a family you'd like to have?" she inquires, her eyes flitting between Lewis and Y/n.

Lewis expresses his thoughts on starting a family, his voice filled with warmth and optimism. "I'd really like a big family," he admits, "maybe 2-3 kids or more, and a few pets too. But ultimately, it'll be Y/n's call since she'll be the one carrying and giving birth to the children." He smiles affectionately at her, adding, "It's her decision, and I'll support whatever she chooses."

Y/n's gaze softens, her heart warmed by Lewis's words. Despite the awkward family setting, the way he looks at her, coupled with his last statement, touches her deeply. It's a small but significant gesture, emphasizing his support and understanding, something she didn't fully anticipate.

Y/n's father nods in approval, clearly satisfied with Lewis's response. "Good man," he remarks, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind Lewis's words. "Always considerate of your wife's feelings, as you should be."

As Y/n's father praises Lewis, a sigh of relief escapes her lips. The approval from her father seems to ease some of the tension, and she shoots Lewis a grateful glance, silently expressing her relief.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone casual but slightly concerned. "Have you two thought about moving in together soon?" she asks. "I recall Y/n mentioning she's still staying with Lyka."

Y/n responds, her voice laced with a hint of anxiety, explaining the reasons behind their decision. "We haven't moved in together yet," she begins, "due to Lewis's job. With him traveling all over the world for most of the year, it would be quite lonely for me. I have some of my stuff at his place, but we agreed that I'll stay with him when he's home and stay at my apartment with Lyka when he's away."

The explanation seems to make sense to both Y/n's parents and her father nods in understanding. He seems to comprehend the challenges that come with Lewis's job, and the reasoning behind their living arrangement makes sense in their circumstances.

The dinner gradually comes to an end, and Y/n and Lewis bid farewell to her parents. There's a sense of relief in the air, mixed with a hint of lingering tension. As they part ways, Y/n's mother gives them both a warm smile, while her father offers a firm nod.

"Thanks," she says, smiling at his gesture, appreciating the small act of chivalry. She pulls out her phone from her bag before taking a seat in the car, the soft leather of the seats molding to her body.

As Lewis closes the car door, Y/n notices Lyka's name popping up on her phone's screen. She taps on the answer button, the phone pressed to her ear. "Hello?" she says, her voice slightly weary.

Lyka's voice comes through the line, sounding a mix of anxious and excited. "H-hi," she greets, her tone bordering on the guilty, like a child trying to conceal their mischief.

Y/n listens to Lyka's nervous greeting and responds, curiosity in her voice. "What's up?" she asks, setting the phone on speaker and placing it on the dash. Just as she does so, Lewis gets into the car, and they both focus on the now-speaker conversation.

Lyka's voice, sounding a bit unsure, asks, "Are you heading home now?" The question lingers in the air, suggesting that there may be something on Lyka's mind.

Y/n shoots Lewis a glance, their eyes meeting briefly as he maneuvers the car out of the gates. She's silent for a moment, contemplating Lyka's request and the implications of staying over at Lewis's place tonight.

Y/n turns her attention to Lewis, asking the question aloud, even though he had already overheard the conversation. She takes the phone off the dashboard, holding it in her hand as she speaks, her voice quieter than before. "Lyka's asking if I can stay over at your place tonight because Lando is a bit too drunk to go home."

Lewis responds, keeping his focus on the road, his voice calm and unwavering. "Sure," he says, seeming amenable to the idea. "You can stay over at my place tonight."

She relays the response to Lyka, conveying the okay from Lewis. "Okay," she says, her voice a bit lighter now. "I can stay at Lewis's place tonight."

Lyka's voice comes through the phone, brimming with gratitude and a hint of apology. "Thank you so much," she expresses, her tone sincere. "I'm really sorry for the sudden request. We just, uh…" Her voice trails off, leaving the rest unspoken.

Y/n chuckles, still on the phone with Lyka, and teases her gently. "Yeah, yeah, just make sure you take care of your 'boyfriend,'" she says, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "I'll be with Lewis."

Lyka's embarrassed screech comes through the phone, her voice full of flustered denial. "DUDE, SHUT UP!" she practically yells, her annoyance tinged with a hint of humor. "HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!"

Y/n responds, a playful tone in her voice. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Lyka," she teases. "You can tell that to the flowers he's been sending you every day." Her tone takes on a mock serious note. "Anyways, I've gotta go now."

Lyka's frustrated scream comes through the line, her voice muffled as she probably covers her face with her hands. Y/n laughs, having heard this reaction countless times over the years, knowing it's a clear sign of Lyka's embarrassment. "Bye," Lyka manages to say, her voice still tinged with flusteredness before ending the call.

Y/n looks at her phone, opening the text messages app to find the flurry of texts Lyka sent just moments ago before the call. Her eyes scan over the screen, curious to see what kind of messages her flustered best friend sent, no doubt venting about what was happening.

Lewis breaks the brief silence that had settled in the car, starting with a casual, "So…" His tone is conversational, suggesting he has something to talk about. He keeps his focus on the road, but his voice is filled with curiosity and a hint of anticipation.

Y/n sighs, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and uncertainty. She closes her phone screen, resting it on her lap before responding. "Honestly, I'm not even sure," she admits, her tone reflecting a hint of frustration at her friends' complex relationship.

Y/n tries to explain the complicated nature of Lyka and Lando's relationship, her voice trying to convey the complexity of it all. "They're more than friends, but less than lovers," she clarifies, her tone thoughtful. "It's a bit confusing, really. They're stuck somewhere in between."

Lewis chuckles, reflecting on the implications of the "stuck in between" situation. He offers a playful observation. "Well, that could go one of two ways, right?" he muses. "Either it's really good, or really bad."

Y/n smirks, agreeing with Lewis's assessment. "Yeah, you're right," she concedes, her voice hinting at the complexities of Lyka and Lando's dynamics. "It's either going to work out amazingly or explode in their faces."

The car falls back into a moment of silence, the low hum of the engine filling the space. Lewis keeps driving, his focus on the road, his mind likely contemplating the complexities of relationships and the uncertainty of the future.

Y/n breaks the silence again, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. "Uh…" she begins, her tone a bit uncertain, but there's a question lingering behind it.

Y/n's voice softens with gratitude as she addresses Lewis, her tone sincere. "Thanks," she says, her appreciation evident. "For, you know, not making a big deal about me staying over."

Y/n's voice takes on a more grateful tone, her appreciation clear. "And thank you for saving my ass at the dinner," she says, a hint of relief in her voice. "I really appreciate you having my back."

Lewis responds with a warm smile, his tone easy and hospitable. "It's no problem, sweetheart," he says. "You're always welcome at my place, even when I'm not around. I'll give you a key soon so you can come and go as you please."

Y/n turns her head swiftly, her gaze now locked on him. She repeats his term of endearment, "Sweetheart?" Her voice is tinged with a hint of surprise, her head slightly tilted to the side as she processes the familiarity of the word coming from his lips.

Lewis's eyes widen momentarily upon hearing her question, clearly surprised by the inquiry. He quickly recovers and responds, his tone questioning yet gentle, "Oh, is it okay if I call you that?" His voice carries a note of concern, clearly wanting to ensure he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

She lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing away. "Yeah, it's fine," she assures him, her tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's actually better that way. I won't be caught off guard when you call me that in public. It'll make our act more believable for the press."

Lewis nods, the concern in his eyes replaced by a hint of relief and a touch of playfulness. "That's true," he agrees, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It'll make it more convincing when we're around people. Plus, it's kind of nice…" His voice trails off, a slight implication behind his words.

A smile dances on Y/n’s lips, and she decides to tease him a bit. “Oh really? I feel like you have a big crush on me Sir Lewis,” she asks, feigning surprise, her tone lighthearted. Her eyes glimmer with playfulness, expecting him to respond with a playful banter.

His voice takes on a playfully challenging tone as he responds to Y/n’s teasing question. “And what if I do?” he says, his eyes briefly meeting hers before turning back to the road. “What would you do about it?” There’s a hint of a challenge in his tone but also a flicker of genuine curiosity, as if he’s eager to see how she would react if her teasing was based on truth.

Y/n responds with confidence, her eyes locked into his. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she says, her tone dripping with a hint of mystery. Her voice drops lower, filled with playful tease, as if she’s already planning something.

Lewis raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued by Y/n’s response. He can’t help but wonder what kind of ideas she has in mind. “Oh yeah? And what ideas do you have in that pretty mind of yours, sweetheart?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

Her smile widens, her eyes glimmering mischievously. She remains coy, not revealing too much. “Oh, I can’t give away all my secrets,” she teases, her voice playful. “You’ll have to wait and find out.”

Lewis chuckles, enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he responds, his tone playful. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see what you have up your sleeve, sweetheart."

Y/n smirks at the term of endearment, the name rolling off his tongue with a familiar ease. "Oh, you'll see," she teases back, her voice filled with confidence. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

Lewis brings the car into the parking lot of the condominium building, the wheels smoothly coming to a stop. He turns off the engine, the sound of the vehicle falling silent as he shifts his gaze over to Y/n sitting next to him.

"We're here," he announces, his tone casual. He unbuckles his seatbelt and glances over at Y/n. "Ready to head inside?"

Y/n nods, the teasing banter settling into a comfortable quiet. She unbuckles her own seatbelt and prepares to get out of the car. "Yeah, let's go."

Lewis opens the car door and steps out, stretching briefly before closing the door behind him. He then walks over to Y/n's side and opens the passenger door for her, offering his hand to help her out of the car.

She smiles appreciatively, taking his hand and stepping out of the car. "Thank you," she says, her voice tinged with gratefulness. She then follows him as they head towards the entrance of the condominium building.

As they walk into Lewis's penthouse, the faint sound of a low thumping becomes perceptible. Y/n glances around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She looks over at Lewis, a quizzical expression on her face, silently asking if he hears it too.

Lewis catches Y/n's curious look and can't help but smile to himself, fully aware of what's about to occur. He says nothing for a moment, amused by the fact that she hasn't figured it out yet.

Out of nowhere, a chubby bulldog appears, sprinting toward Lewis with excitement. Its short, muscular legs carry it swiftly across the floor, its paws creating a thumping sound as they hit the ground. The bulldog clearly recognizes its owner and makes a beeline straight for him, tail wagging joyfully.

Lewis crouches down to meet Roscoe, his face breaking into a wide smile as the dog happily rolls onto his belly, begging for some attention. Lewis laughs and begins to scratch the dog's belly, his fingers rubbing the animal's belly fur affectionately.

"Hey, buddy," Lewis coos affectionately, his voice filled with warmth as he speaks to Roscoe. "Did you miss me?" The bulldog responds with a slobbery grin and continues to wiggle his short, stub tail on the floor in bliss.

Roscoe looks up at Lewis with big, soulful eyes, his tongue hanging out, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of his owner. He playfully licks Lewis's hand, expressing his happiness in the only way he knows how.

Roscoe, in the middle of his display of excitement towards Lewis, suddenly halts, his furry head tilting to the side as he notices Y/n's presence. His wide eyes focus on her, his gaze inquisitive and a little cautious, as if wondering who this new person in his home is.

Y/n stands there, a mix of surprise and uncertainty on her face, not quite knowing how to greet the curious bulldog. She looks over at Lewis, silently seeking some guidance on how to approach his pet.

He notices the change in Roscoe's behavior and the puzzled look on Y/n's face. He stands up and gestures for her to come closer, a reassuring smile on his face. "It's okay," he says, his tone comforting. "He's just curious. Come closer."

Y/n steps closer, her nerves palpable as she admits to Lewis that she isn't particularly fond of dogs. "Um, is this a good time to say I'm not really a dog person?" she mumbles, her voice tinged with slight unease.

Lewis chuckles, a mix of amusement and understanding in his eyes. He glances down at Roscoe, who is still sitting and watching Y/n intently. "Oh, really? Well, that might be a problem," he teases jokingly.

She cautiously moves closer and gives Roscoe a tentative pat on the head, her touch light and tentative. The bulldog responds by closing his eyes in the pleasure of the unexpected attention, his stumpy tail wagging once again as he basks in the affection.

Lewis watches the interaction and smiles, finding the scene amusing yet endearing. "See?" he says, his voice encouraging. "He likes you already."

He stands up, motioning for Y/n to follow him into the kitchen. "C'mon," he says, gesturing towards the kitchen. "I'll grab us some drinks."

Y/n follows Lewis into the kitchen, her face transforming into a surprised smile as she asks a question. "Why do we need drinks?" There's a hint of curiosity in her voice, as if she's secretly hoping for a particular reason.

Lewis uncorks the bottle, taking out two wine glasses from the overhead cabinet. As he pours the wine into the glasses, he glances over at Y/n, his eyes holding a playful twinkle. "Besides," he says, a sly smile on his lips, "we need to celebrate our marriage properly, don't we?"

He passes a wine glass to her, his fingertips lightly brushing against hers for a moment as he does so. The atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly feels a tad heated as the implications of his words hang in the air between them.

Y/n takes the offered glass, her heart skipping a beat as their fingers touch briefly. The look in his eyes and the undercurrent of flirtation in his tone are hard to ignore. The words "we need to celebrate our marriage properly" echo in her head, causing a flutter of anticipation in her stomach.

Lewis pours himself a glass of wine, then pours another for Y/n as she settles into her seat. He moves around the counter, the wine glass in his hand, and takes a seat next to her. The silence is comfortable, but the air is charged with a simmering tension, the earlier flirtation not yet faded.

Y/n holds up her wine glass, lifting it slightly in his direction. "Cheers," she says, her voice carrying a note of excitement. The clinking sound of their glasses meeting fills the air, the act oddly intimate and charged with unspoken desires.

Their eyes meet over the rims of their glasses, the moment charged with a mix of tension and anticipation. Y/n takes a sip of her wine, the liquid smooth and cool as it touches her lips, but it's the man sitting next to her that leaves her feeling flushed and warm.

Time has passed, and the wine has taken its toll. Both Y/n and Lewis are visibly tipsy, their cheeks flushed and their inhibitions lowered. She finds herself in a slightly drunken state, her speech more slurry than Lewis's. They're exchanging stories, the wine loosening their tongues and making them more susceptible to sharing their secrets and embarrassing anecdotes.

Y/n continues her story, her voice a bit slurry from the wine but filled with amusement. "So, there I was, planning to go grocery shopping, right? But then Lyka calls and invites me out for drinks. And well, as you can imagine, one drink turns into several, and the next thing I know, it's been three hours. I completely forgot about the grocery shopping. Then, instead of coming home with actual groceries, I end up bringing home this stray white cat I found. And thus, my cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil was born."

Lewis can't help but chuckle lightly as he listens to Y/n's story, finding it both absurd and endearing. He leans his face against his palm, his elbow propped up on the counter, his eyes sparkling with tipsy amusement. He glances at her, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "You named your cat what?" he asks, his voice tinged with playful disbelief.

His laughter continues, the image of Y/n coming home with a cat instead of groceries amusing him more than it probably should in his current state of drunkenness. "You named your cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil because you forgot about grocery shopping and got drunk instead?" he asks, grinning widely, clearly finding the situation hilarious.

Y/n grins widely, nodding enthusiastically in affirmation. "Yep, that's right," she says, her voice filled with tipsy mirth. "Extra Virgin Olive Oil. And let me tell you, he's the most spoiled cat ever. All because I couldn't stick to my grocery shopping plans."

She feels a sudden brush of fur against her leg, her gaze dropping down. But before she can even react, Roscoe takes off like a shot, darting away with one of her high heels clenched in his mouth. Y/n's eyes widen, and a tipsy laugh escapes her lips.

Y/n jumps out of her seat, a tipsy grin on her face. "Roscoe!" she yells, giggling as she tries to catch the dog who's now prancing away with her high heel. Lewis watches the scene unfold, his laughter joining hers, finding the whole situation hilariously adorable.

Y/n's pursuit of Roscoe continues, her steps a bit unsteady from the alcohol. She tries to catch him, but her foot catches on the edge of the rug, her already tipsy balance getting the better of her. She trips over, her body stumbling forward, a yelp of surprise escaping her.

Lewis sees Y/n's fall, her carefree chase after the dog abruptly interrupted by her slip on the rug. He gets up from his seat, a slight worry crossing his face. But before he can make a move, Y/n raises an arm up from the floor, and yells out, "I'm okay!" Her voice is slightly slurred but there's a sense of pride in her tone, as if she's proud of her resilient demeanor despite her tipsy state.

As she stands up with a wide smile on her face, she doesn't realize the small cut on her elbow until Lewis points it out. Y/n glances down, noticing the slight trickle of blood on her arm. She touches the spot, a little surprised, but the alcohol has numbed the pain, giving her a false sense of invincibility. She giggles, looking at the cut with amused detachment.

Despite her stumble and the small cut on her elbow, Y/n's demeanor remains carefree, her eyes blinking in a slightly confused manner. The alcohol has dulled her senses, so pain feels distant and the reality of the fall hasn't quite registered in her mind yet. She looks up at Lewis, a slightly bewildered expression on her face as if she's not quite sure how she ended up on the floor in the first place.

Lewis lets out a small, playful exhale and saunters over to Y/n, gesturing for her to sit on the couch. "Alright, come on, sit down," he instructs, his voice laced with a hint of amused frustration. He guides her over to the couch, steadying her a bit as she clumsily flops down onto the cushions.

He turns away, giving her a warm smile, and says, "Okay, sit tight. I'll be right back. I'll get a bandage for that cut on your elbow." He strides out of the room, leaving Y/n slumped on the couch, a little drunk and a bit bewildered.

Y/n lounges on the couch in a slightly disheveled manner, her body stretched out like a starfish. She looks like a ragdoll, her limbs flung about in a completely comfortable yet chaotic way. The alcohol has made her feel relaxed and carefree, completely unbothered by the fact that she's lying haphazardly on the couch, waiting for Lewis to return with a bandage for her now-forgotten cut.

After 5 minutes, Lewis enters the room carrying a small first-aid kit. He looks over at Y/n, noticing that she's a bit more composed compared to a few moments ago. The alcohol's effect seems to have subsided a bit, perhaps due to the short break in time. He walks over to her, sitting down on the couch next to her, the first-aid Kit in his hand.

"Seems like you're getting a bit more sober now," he observes, his tone gentle as he opens the first-aid kit. He takes out an antiseptic wipe and a small adhesive bandage, preparing to clean and cover the cut on her elbow.

"Hold still for a moment," he says, his voice soft. He gently takes her arm and begins cleaning the wound with the antiseptic wipe. The cool touch of the solution stings a little, but he's careful not to cause her any unnecessary pain.

Y/n winces a bit as the antiseptic wipe touches the cut, a small "ow" escaping her lips. The alcohol has numbed her a bit, but the sting of the antiseptic still registers. She looks at her arm, watching as Lewis carefully cleans the cut, his touch light yet deliberate.

"It's alright," he soothes, his tone gentle. "I'm almost done." He continues to clean the cut, making sure it's free of any dirt or debris before gently placing the bandaid over the cut. His touch is light and careful, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her arm.

Once the bandaid is placed, he gently pats the area around the cut, securing it in place. He then releases her arm, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. He looks up at her, a small, reassuring smile on his lips.

Y/n gazes at Lewis, her eyes studying his face intently. She takes in every detail - the curve of his lips, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the slight stubble on his chin. The alcohol still in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more observant. She continues to stare at him, not saying a word.

Lewis notices Y/n's unwavering gaze, her eyes taking in every feature of his face. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. Seeing her silent observation, he jokingly asks, "Got something on my face?" His voice is light, and his words are filled with humor.

Y/n shakes her head, continuing her silent observation, her gaze still fixated on his features. And then, in a surprising move, she leans forward, her lips brushing against his in a soft, slow kiss. The alcohol in her system lowers her inhibitions, making her actions more impulsive and carefree. The kiss is unexpected but filled with an undercurrent of desire and affection.

Lewis is taken aback for a moment, caught off guard by her unexpected kiss. But then, he relaxes into it, his eyes closing as he responds to her contact. His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. The kiss deepens, the alcohol in their systems making it heady and impulsive.

Y/n, emboldened by the alcohol and the heat of the moment, makes another bold move. Without breaking the kiss, she shifts her position, straddling his lap, a leg on either side of him. Her body presses against his, her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer as she continues kissing him, her actions driven by a combination of intoxication and desire.

She suddenly pulls away from the kiss, the reality of her actions sinking in. Her blush spreads across her face, a mixture of embarrassment and desire filling her. She looks at him, her eyes wide, her breathing slightly ragged from the intensity of the kiss. The alcohol in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more impetuous, but she still feels a mix of shyness and confusion at her own behavior.

Lewis looks at Y/n, a hint of confusion and surprise in his eyes. He gently cups her face with his hand, his thumb tracing the contour of her cheek. He asks her softly, "Why did you stop?" His voice is a mix of curiosity and tenderness, his gaze holding hers as he waits for her response.

Despite the buzz of alcohol in her system, Y/n hesitates, her actions and her desires at war within her. The kiss had been spontaneous, driven by a heady mixture of alcohol and desire, but now she feels a sense of self-consciousness and insecurity. Her blush deepens under his touch, and she looks into his eyes, trying to find the words to explain her sudden break in their intimate moment.

"I…I don't know," she stutters out, her voice small and unsure. "It's just…I don't know…" Her gaze flickers away from his, unable to hold his intense, questioning stare. The alcohol and the heat of the moment have made her impulsive, but now she feels exposed, vulnerable in her straddling position, her guard faltering under his soft but insistent touch.

Lewis gives her a reassuring smile, his hand still cupping her face. Seeing her hesitant, he gently draws her back towards him, his other hand coming up to rest on her hip. He pulls her down, bringing her face closer to his, and kisses her again, his lips pressing against hers with a soft but determined pressure. The kiss is slow, tender, and deliberate, his tongue slipping out to caress her lower lip, seeking more.

With a swift movement, Lewis stands up, still not breaking the kiss, his hands holding onto Y/n's thighs to keep her stable. The shift in positioning causes her to tighten her arms around his neck, and their bodies press even closer together. Lewis's grip is firm but gentle, his strength evident as he holds her up with ease, the kiss continuing unhindered.

He walks with purpose towards the bedroom door, his strength and balance holding Y/n securely in his arms. In a move that seems completely effortless, he keeps one hand on her thigh, supporting her weight, while his other free hand reaches out, unlocks the door, and swings it open. He strides across the threshold, carrying her into the room, the kiss never once breaking.

Inside the bedroom, he kicks the door closed behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. The only sounds filling the room are the soft gasps and sighs exchanged between them as the kiss deepens, fueled by a heady mixture of desire and alcohol. Lewis shifts his grip slightly, his hand sliding from her thigh to her waist, holding her steadily as he guides her towards the bed.

Lewis gently sets Y/n down on her feet, helping her regain her balance. Then, with a soft yet firm pressure on her shoulders, he eases her backward until she sits on the edge of the bed. He stands in front of her, his body looming over hers in a way that is both dominant and protective. He looks down at her, his gaze darkened with desire, his breathing slightly heavy.

With a subtle but deliberate action, Lewis's hand moves up to Y/n's neck, his fingers wrapping around the delicate skin in a light but firm grip. He squeezes gently, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to assert a sense of control and possessiveness. The kiss that follows is quick, fierce, and possessive, his tongue invading her mouth in a dominant, needy manner.

Y/n whimpers into the kiss, the sound caught between a protest and a moan of pleasure. Lewis's dominant grip on her neck, the way he claims her mouth in a possessive kiss, fuels the fire within her. Her hands come up to cling to his shoulders, the mixture of pleasure and submission washing over her in waves.

Too caught up in the intensity of the moment, she grips the loops of Lewis's pants, her fingers hooking onto them as if anchoring herself. The action is both needy and desperate, a silent plea for more as she looks up at him, her eyes burning with desire and anticipation.

Lewis glances down at Y/n, noticing her fingers gripping his pant loops, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. Teasingly, he leans down, his face close to hers, and whispers, "So needy, aren't you?" His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, his words carrying a hint of possessive satisfaction.

She looks up at Lewis with wide, innocent, doe-like eyes, her expression a mixture of need and submission. She doesn't respond, her voice caught in her throat, but her grip on his pant loops tightens just a fraction, her body silently begging for more. The contrast between her innocent gaze and her needy actions is striking, and the heat in her eyes speaks volumes.

Lewis continues to look down at her, his eyes taking in her beautiful, vulnerable expression. He reaches out a hand, tracing the line of her neck with his fingers, but the touch light is barely there. He can hear her soft, ragged breaths, can feel her pulse quickening under his touch, and his own need, his own desire, increases exponentially.

He leans in, his lips moving to her ear, his breath against her skin as he whispers, "You're so gorgeous like this, so needy for me." He kisses her ear, his lips moving down to her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, hot kisses down the delicate curve of her neck.

Lewis continues to kiss along her neck, his mouth nipping and sucking gently at her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her sweetness. His hands slide down her body, caressing her sides, his touch both tender and possessive, his own need growing with every soft sound that escapes her lips.

He bites gently at her pulse point, a small, possessive act that makes her gasp and whine softly. His hands move to the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the line of exposed skin, his touch both gentle and firm. "I want you," he whispers against her skin, his voice rough and full of desire, "so badly."

His hands slide underneath her shirt, his palms pressing against her skin, feeling her warmth and softness against his touch. He feels her shiver at the contact, her body responding to his touch like a perfectly tuned instrument. He kisses her collarbone, his mouth moving down to the hollow of her throat, his lips trailing along her skin with increasing need.

His hands move higher, his fingers tracing the contour of her stomach, her ribcage, her breasts. He feels her arch into his touch, her body craving more contact, more of his touch, his caress, his attention. He can feel her need, her desire, the way her breath hitches at his touch, and it only fuels his own fire, his own burning need for her.

Lewis pushes her gently back onto the bed, his body hovering over her, his weight propped up on his forearms. He looks down at her, his eyes roaming over her face, her body, taking in the sight of her beneath him, soft and yielding, yet filled with an undeniable fire and desire.

His fingers move to the buttons of her shirt, his touch slow and deliberate as he unfastens them one by one, revealing her bare skin inch by inch, his lips following the path of his fingers, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.

Y/n's breathing becomes ragged as Lewis' hands reach the last button, freeing her breasts from the confines of her shirt. She pushes the fabric off her shoulders, tossing it aside, her nipples hard and aching for his touch.

Lewis' hands cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples. Y/n moans, her head falling back as she arches into his touch. Her hands roam over his body, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

She slides her hand inside, gripping his erection through his boxers. Lewis groans, his hips bucking into her hand. Y/n pulls him closer, their lips meeting in a rushed kiss as she fumbles with his boxers, freeing his hard cock.

She strokes him slowly, her thumb rubbing over the head, making him moan into her mouth. Lewi's hands leave her breasts, training down her sides to her waistband. He hooks his thumbs into her pants, pulling them down her legs, leaving her completely naked.

Y/n steps out of her pants, her body trembling with desire. Lewis' eyes roam over her, drinking in the sight of her before he pulls her back against him. He reaches around, unfastening his braided belt, letting it fall to the floor.

He pushes her onto the bed, following her down, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, his hand guiding his cock to her entrance. Y/n's breath hitches, her legs parting, welcoming him.

Lewis positions himself at her entrance, his eyes locked on hers, filled with lust and desire. He pushes inside her, slowly at first, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Y/n gasps, her nails digging into the sheets as he fills her completely.

Y/n bites her lip, her eyes widening as she feels the full extent of Lewis' size. "Fuck, you're huge," she hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her.

Lewis smirks, his hands gripping her hips as he begins to thrust, his rhythm slow and deliberate. "Like it sweetheart?" he growls, his voice deep and seductive.

Y/n nods, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusts to his size. "Yeah, I... I love it," she admits, her voice breathy and needy.

Lewis grins, his hand sliding around Y/n's neck, applying gentle pressure. "Good," he murmurs, his thrusts growing faster and more forceful.

Y/n's eyes widen at the added sensation, her body arching off the bed as her arousal intensifies. "Lewis," she whispers, her nails digging into his back, "don't stop."

He doesn't, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his hand tightening around her neck just enough to heighten her arousal. Y/n's moans grow louder, her body trembling in anticipation of her impending orgasm.

Y/n's voice is barely a whisper as she gasps, "I'm... I'm close, Lewis."

Lewis, however, is lost in the sensations, his focus solely on the feel of Y/n's tight, wet pussy wrapped around his cock. He continues to thrust, his hand still tightly around her neck, his body moving in perfect unison with hers.

Y/n's orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cries out, her nails digging into Lewis' bicep. Her walls clench around his cock, milking him as he continues to thrust.

Lewis' thrusts grow more erratic, his grip on Y/n's neck tightening as he feels her orgasm grip his cock. Her shaking only serves to fuel his desire, his release drawing near.

He pulls out of her, Y/n's protest cut off by the loss of his cock. He positions himself at her entrance once more, his cock glistening with her juices. "On your knees, sweetheart," he commands, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n obeys, her body still trembling as she gets onto her hands and knees. Lewis lines up his cock with her wet pussy, thrusting back inside her, this time from behind.

His hand leaves her neck, instead gripping her hair, pulling her head back as he begins fuck her with renewed vigor. Y/n's moans fill the room, her body responding to her every thrust,

Lewis' thrusts become more rushed, his breathing heavy. "You're such a good girl, taking my big cock like that," he praises, his voice thick with desire.

Y/n's body shudders, her arousal building once more as she feels him fill her from behind. "Mmm, Lewis," she moans, her voice thick with lust.

Lewis' hand tightens in her hair, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for me one more time," he says, voice a mixture of command and desire.

Y/n's body responds to his words, her orgasm building once more. "I... I'm close," she gasps, her nails digging into the bedsheets.

Lewis feels his own release building, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me," he demands, his cock pulsing inside her.

Y/n's body convulses, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. Lewis can no longer hold back, his cock pulsing as he releases his hot seed deep inside her. He collapses onto her back, his breathing heavy as he tries to regain his composure.

Her body shudders, her mind swimming in the aftermath of her orgasm. Lewis slowly pulls out of her, his cock leaving a trail of cum between her legs. He rolls off her, pulling her into his arms, their bodies entwined.

They lie there, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Both are out of breath, their hearts still racing from the intensity of the experience. Lewis is holding Y/n close, her head resting on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. The room is quiet, the only sound being their ragged breathing, the sound gradually slowing and evening out as they regain their composure.

Y/n breaks the silence, her voice a bit hoarse but weary. She looks up at Lewis, her head still pillowed on his chest, and says, "That sobered me up real fast." Her words are a mixture of exhaustion and satiation, the aftermath of their passionate encounter leaving her both depleted and fulfilled.

Lewis gives a soft laugh, his fingers still tracing patterns on her back. He nods, agreeing with her words. "I guess that's one way to sober up," he replies, his voice still a little breathless. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch soft and affectionate.

Y/n jokes, a weary but playful smile on her face. "Well," she says, "that was like our very own little honeymoon night, wasn't it?" Her comment, although lighthearted, carries a hint of seriousness, a nod to the intense and passionate connection they had just shared.

Lewis chuckles softly, a smile on his lips. He gently pulls her closer, his arms tightening around her. "I guess you could say that," he responds, his voice warm and gentle. "We definitely made some memories tonight." He looks down at her, his gaze filled with tenderness and affection.

Y/n hisses as she adjusts her position, a slight wince on her face. Her body is likely still sensitive from their passionate encounter, and she moves gingerly, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Lewis notices her hiss and the wince on her face, his expression immediately becoming one of concern. He asks her gently, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice is laced with worry and concern, his fingers lightly coming up to caress her cheek.

Y/n shakes her head, her eyes meeting his. "No, I'm alright," she reassures him. "Just a little sore, I guess. But it was worth it," she adds with a sleepy smile.

Lewis continues to look at her, his eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. He asks again, his voice filled with concern, "Are you sure you're alright? Soreness is normal, but I don't want to hurt you." He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and caring.

Y/n nods, a small smile on her face, and jokingly says, "Well, I guess there's an easy fix for that. Just take me out on a shopping spree, and I'll feel like a million bucks again." Her tone is light and humorous, indicating that she's not entirely serious but also hinting at her desire for some pampering and shopping therapy.

Without hesitation, Lewis reaches for the nightstand near the bed and grabs his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a credit card, then hands it to Y/n with a smile. "There," he says, his voice lighthearted, "your ticket to feeling a million bucks. Go wild."

Y/n's eyes widened as she took his credit card. She playfully gasps, a mischievous smile on her face. "Are you serious? You're giving me carte blanche with this?" she says, holding the card up and examining it like it's a precious gem.

Lewis nods, a smirk on his face. "Dead serious," he confirms, leaning back against the headboard. "Go nuts. Buy whatever you want, and don't hold back. It's on me."

Y/n places the credit card on the nightstand, her smile playful. "Oh, it can definitely wait till tomorrow," she says. "I think we should both rest and recover from tonight's… activities." Her tone is teasing, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Lewis chuckles, a knowing smile on his face. "I agree," he replies, his voice deep and gravelly. "We definitely need some rest after tonight. But tomorrow…tomorrow is all yours. Shopping sprees, pampering, the works. I can't have you sore for too long, can I?"

Y/n smirks at his words, her eyes narrowing mischievously. "You know, you might be starting to regret giving me that credit card already," she teases. "You're creating a little monster here."

Lewis laughs heartily. "Oh, I'm fully aware of the monster I'm creating," he replies, still sporting a smile. "But honestly, I find it kind of hot. The thought of you going on a shopping spree, spending my money without a care in the world… it's strangely alluring."

Y/n teases, a mischievous grin on her face. "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting something for you too," she says. "After all, a good shopping spree isn't complete without a little gift for the guy who's footing the bill."

Lewis pulls her back towards him, drawing her close against his chest. He settles back against the pillows, his arm wrapping around her in a protective, comforting embrace. Y/n's head rests against his chest, her body tucked snugly against his, and he gently kisses the top of her head. "Sweet dreams," he whispers, his voice soft and affectionate.

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mysterious-musings · 3 months ago

Text

Closed Position: Week 8 (Viennese Waltz)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 10.6K

👉 Fic Warnings: Sexual tension, mutual pining, angst, so much smut (we get a little dom and sub Dieter, intimacy, use of a sex toy, sex acts in public, spanking...really it's all too much to list here - it's Dieter, use your imagination), spicy language, themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not by Dieter), past alcohol abuse, past drug abuse, and shitty parents. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Cat dad / plant dad Dieter comes with his own warnings.

👉 Chapter Warnings: Self-sabotaging thoughts, sassy Dieter, smutty stuff (light dom/sub dynamics (Dieter's in charge), restraint with hands and body, nipple biting, finger sucking/biting, fingering, p in v, intimacy), so much angst.

Note: In case you missed it, check out this post before reading. There will be call backs to a couple of past conversations. It may help to have a refresher.

Chapter Quote: “Don’t tell me that or you’re gonna lure the horndog out again. He’s not above dry humping a thigh.”

Kat's POV

The last two and a half weeks with Dieter had been nothing short of perfect as we settled into a new routine. I had hardly been home, now spending all of my time with him at his place or rehearsing. It almost felt like it had always been this way. Our lives were quickly falling into place so seamlessly, to the point that I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and allowing the doubt to slowly creep in. I knew this couldn’t last forever, and it was stoking a fear in me that I didn’t really understand. I couldn’t pinpoint the cause, so I tried to pack it away in a box in the back of my mind. However, its presence never ceased. Lurking. Festering. Waiting for the thing that would unleash it.

Tuesday morning, I was stepping out of my car in the Television City Studios lot ahead of our weekly production meeting with Stacia and Joe. The moment I closed the door, I was met with several paparazzi coming toward me. I was momentarily stunned given they shouldn’t have been on the property, but I tried not to let it get to me as I made my way toward the main entrance at a brisk pace.

I tried to ignore them, but they made it damn near impossible as they shouted questions my way and followed too closely.

“Kat, how are you feelin’ about Dieter’s new relationship?”

I couldn’t help smiling to myself. His Instagram posts really were causing a stir. “I couldn’t be more happy for him,” I replied.

The pap moved in closer, “Have you met her? What do you think?”

I had to bite back a chuckle as I continued my brisk walk, “I know her well. They both seem very happy.”

They were beginning to crowd me as another yelled, “Do you think it’s serious? Do you really think it’s gonna last given his history as one of Hollywood’s biggest playboys?”

Something about that question made my gut turn. I didn’t bother to answer, pushing past them as I inhaled a deep breath to calm the sudden uneasiness. It was about that time one of the security guards caught sight of the intruders and came to my rescue, stopping the paps in their tracks as I entered the building. I was feeling flustered as I approached Dieter, who was already seated in the lobby with our usual coffees. After a glance, he stood and met me halfway.

His brows were furrowed with concern as he asked, “You OK?”

I nodded, “Yeah…just some paparazzi caught me in the parking lot. I’m good…just wasn’t expecting it.”

He rolled his eyes, “That’s bullshit. Security needs to do better.”

I sighed, “Yeah, I mean they stopped them. It’s fine.”

He looked about as confident as I felt with my response as he handed my cup of coffee over. I gave him a tight smile in thanks as we moved to sit on the small couches. My mind kept circling back to that comment about him being one of Hollywood’s biggest playboys. It wasn’t like it was a secret, but for some reason it was getting to me today. I pushed the thought aside, blaming my insecurities as I turned to face Dieter. I was surprised to find him staring at me, the crease still present between his brows.

I gave him a small smile in an attempt to brush things off, “So, what do you think we’ll get stuck with this week?”

He pursed his lips in thought, “Hmmm, my vote is on the Samba.”

I huffed out a laugh, “God, I hope not. My hips need a break from Latin dancing.”

He fought a smile as he leaned in closer to speak in a quiet voice only I could hear, “You sure the problem isn’t from all the horizontal dancing?”

I snorted out a laugh, “No, definitely not. If anything, that makes me forget my issues exist.”

His eyes briefly dropped down to my lips as he smirked. I could tell he wanted to kiss me, but refrained given the public setting. He leaned back into the couch, licking his bottom lip as he looked at me in a way that could only be described as sinful. “I hope they put you in purple this week. You look good in purple.”

I chuckled, “That’s random. Why purple?”

He was smiling now, “I was just thinking of that SNL photoshoot, when they had you in that deep purple dress. The color looked amazing against your skin. That purple bikini looked pretty fucking hot too…”

His words made my heart flutter. Knowing that he noticed the purple dress before anything had happened between us and actually remembered it was hitting kind of different. It definitely took my mind off the negative thoughts I had been having a few minutes prior. The mention of the purple bikini also had me thinking about everything that happened after it came off.

A PA chose that moment to appear out of nowhere, letting us know that Stacia and Joe were ready for us. We stood, and made our way to the conference room where we were met with two very agitated looking executive producers. There was a tense energy in the room as we took our seats across from them. I could feel Dieter’s leg press against mine under the table. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to help me relax or seeking reassurance for himself.

Their eyes focused on Dieter for a beat before Stacia finally spoke. “I’m gonna need for you to tell me what the hell is going on because we’re getting inundated with calls from the press.”

Right to it then…

Dieter shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific…because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Stacia scoffed, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You know exactly what I’m talking about…the social media posts? The mystery brunette with you on the beach that’s plastered all over the tabloids? You’ve got nothing to say about that?”

I glanced over at him, just in time to see the side of his lips twitch upward. “What is there to say? That I’m seeing someone? It’s my personal life. I didn’t realize I needed your permission.”

Stacia looked like she could have punched the smug look off his face. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing over how worked up she was getting. She leaned forward, pinning Dieter with her eyes as they flashed with anger, “If it affects this show, then yes, you need to give a heads up. Our ratings may plummet over this, you realize that right? The fans have bought into shipping you two, and if they can’t do that, then they won’t watch.”

Dieter huffed out a laugh, “Kat and I never agreed to that narrative. That was all you guys. I’m not gonna stop living my life just because of some bullshit story line you two dreamed up on our behalf for a reality show that’s supposed to be about DANCING. There was nothing in my contract that forbid me from doing it, so you can fuck right off with that attitude.”

I rolled my lips together as I fought a burst of laughter. Funny enough, Joe seemed like he was trying to do the same as Stacia’s mouth fell agape. She scoffed in disbelief as she sunk back into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

Joe leaned forward as he held his hands out in a peaceful gesture, “Look, you’re right. We have no say in your personal life. A head’s up still would’ve been nice so that we could expect the influx of inquiries from the press. It’s been nonstop since you made those posts and that TMZ article went up. We just need to know how to handle this.”

Stacia chose that moment to break into the conversation, her eyes now on me. “Is it you? Are you two tryin’ to play some clever game because you got caught?”

I couldn’t help my eye roll that followed. She thought she was so smart. She was obviously on to us, but I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

“I think it’s up to Dieter if he wants to divulge the details of his love life. As far as I’m concerned, it’s none of your business and I’m not saying a word about it. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get to the reason we’re here and discuss this week’s performance.”

She let out a controlled breath as her nostrils flared. It was obvious she was about to snap.

“Why have you been so combative this season?” she asked.

I shook my head, “I’m not being combative right now. This is a Dieter thing…not a me thing. So, I’m removing myself from the discussion.”

Dieter snickered quietly beside me. I could tell he was enjoying himself way more than he probably should be, but I couldn’t fault him for it because I was too.

Stacia threw her hands up in frustration, “So what the hell are we supposed to tell these reporters that keep calling for comments?”

I watched Dieter as he gave her a sarcastic smile, “How about nothing? No comment? We don’t comment on the private lives of our cast members? It’s not that fucking hard.”

There was something about him being like this that was melting my insides. I was proud of him for standing up for himself - for us. I was also insanely turned on by it too.

I shifted my attention back to Stacia, who was sitting still, staring Dieter down with wide eyes. Joe sighed before reaching for the folder in front of her, pulling out the costume sketches for the week and sliding them over to us.

Dieter smirked as he peered down at them, bumping his leg against mine as he spoke, “Hmm, lavender is a good color. I approve.”

I couldn’t help the smile on my lips as I leaned over to look at the sketches. His day had obviously been made by the light purple gown they had me in. The front of it was in the shape of an X, crossing over the chest with a triangular cut out around the navel. The back was completely open. The bottom half looked to be made of a lightweight flowy fabric. Dieter would be wearing a matching light purple shirt with dark trousers.

I nodded in approval as I slid the sketches back toward Joe. He gave me a tight smile, “Good. You’ll be doing the Viennese Waltz this week. I’ll have the music sent over.”

He looked away, shuffling papers in the folder, seemingly dismissing us. Stacia continued to watch us with a sour look on her face as we stood to leave.

Both of us nearly burst into laughter as soon as we were in the lobby. I could have kissed him right there, but held back as he smiled at me.

“That felt fucking amazing. Right?” he finally said.

I chuckled, “It did, honestly. I’m not sure they’ve ever had so much resistance before. It’s driving Stacia crazy that she doesn’t have control right now.”

His smile widened, “I know we’ll probably regret this later, but totally worth it to see her face.”

I moved in closer, gently tugging on the front of his shirt, “You know…it’s kind of hot when you put your foot down like that.”

He was beaming now, causing his cheek to dimple and eyes to crinkle in that way I love.

His eyes scanned the area around us before settling on mine as he leaned in, “How about we have lunch at your place today before we head to the studio?”

I snorted out a laugh, “I don’t think lunch is what you’re after.”

His brows arched, “No? I do actually plan to have a very nice meal…and maybe even some dessert…”

I peered up at him with a smirk, “I fear we may not make it to rehearsal…”

He feigned shock and clutched his chest before shifting into a mischievous grin, “I would never skip rehearsal. I'm a good student. Besides, I’m fully capable of being quick with my meals. It’s the number of servings that get me in trouble. You’ll just have to cut me off before I’ve had my fill…so long as you’ve had yours.”

Two and a half hours later, we finally made it to the dance studio after thoroughly having our way with each other as soon as we stepped through my front door. Both of us were still feeling giddy and energized from our exploits as we stretched out on the floor to listen to the song for this week.

I turned over on my back as I hit play. The song wasn’t new to me. It was a popular song used for the Viennese Waltz in competition, but for some reason, hearing it now felt different. My skin broke out in goosebumps as I really listened to the lyrics for the first time. They were striking a nerve, causing me to suddenly feel on edge for absolutely no reason.

When it ended, I turned to look at Dieter. He was stretched out on his side with his head propped on his hand, staring at me. The space between us suddenly felt heavy with tension. This tension felt different, almost smothering.

I cleared my throat, avoiding his gaze as I asked, “So, what’re your initial thoughts on this one?”

He sighed, “Well, I think it’s talking about the vulnerability and fear that comes with a new relationship where there’s a deep emotional connection…and overcoming the obstacles after past struggles. Having that fear of opening up and letting them in…trusting again after being hurt.”

It was obvious to me then, this song was everything I was trying to shove in that little box hidden in the back of my mind. As if I needed a reminder. Maybe this was the universe’s way of forcing me to deal with those feelings.

I gave him a weak smile, “Yeah, that sounds right. So…how do we wanna translate that to dance?”

He shrugged, “I guess, maybe focus on the vulnerability and connection? The internal battle?”

I nodded, sitting up before moving to stand. I needed to change the topic. “Yeah, sounds good. So, let's go over the hold and footwork…then we can get into the choreography.”

Dieter stood, framing up his arms without prompting. He already knew the drill.

I walked around him, observing his frame before moving in to make adjustments. “You’re probably gonna hate this one because it’s a very unnatural position to put your body in. Your shoulders should be down with your elbows up and you’ll need to bend your knees. It’s definitely not a dance for beginners.”

He groaned as I essentially manhandled him into the correct position. “You’re right, I hate it already. This is gonna wear my back out isn’t it?”

I chuckled, “Yeah, probably. But hey, at least it’s not a Latin dance. Our hips will finally get a break.”

He snorted out a laugh, “No they won’t.”

I could feel the heat creeping up my face at his implication. I shook my head, fighting a smile as I moved to stand in front of him to take my position.

“Alright you horndog…focus.”

He mumbled out a quiet, “Sorry,” before rolling his lips together to hold in his smile.

I was still smiling up at him as I continued, “This is called a rotary dance because of all the turns involved. It has a 1-2-3 fast-paced rhythm that consists of natural and reverse turns and change steps that should be smooth and elegant. We should have sort of a rise and fall as we move, but you have to make sure your shoulders stay parallel with the floor as we maintain the closed position. Your footwork has to be precise or it’s gonna look messy.”

He followed as I led him into the steps, talking him through it as we moved around the room. He, of course, picked up on it quickly. I gave him a smile of encouragement as he took over leading after several minutes.

“This is another one of those forbidden dances. When it first came about, couples were dancing with little to no contact between them. It was very scandalous as you can imagine. So, leaning into the space between us, being close together is part of it.” I added.

He was fighting a smile, “Don’t tell me that or you’re gonna lure the horndog out again. He’s not above dry humping a thigh.”

I couldn’t help the cackling laugh that slipped out as I melted against him. He seemed delighted with himself as his face lit up from eliciting such a response from me. His arms tightened around me as he leaned his forehead against mine, “God, I love it when you laugh like that…best sound ever.”

Movement in the hallway caught my attention, causing me to sober and pull back from him. It was just a random staff member of the studio passing by, but it was enough to bring me back to the real world - reminding me that we had to watch ourselves here.

We got back to it after that, beginning our process of planning out the routine. Wednesday and Thursday went much the same way. We had a fairly well choreographed dance in place by the time we had filming on Friday.

As the week wore on, I noticed that I was feeling strangely disconnected from it all. I could feel myself dissociating as Dieter and I danced, causing a weird energy to buzz between us. Dieter seemed to pick up on it, often asking if I was feeling ok. I brushed it off, chalking it up to feeling tired, but deep down, I could feel something brewing. I couldn’t put words to it. All I knew was that it felt terrible and destructive.

Dieter seemed to be extra attentive in the evenings, making sure I was taken care of. It was more than I deserved from him considering I was slowly building a wall between us as I drowned in my thoughts and fears about our future together.

As we got ready for bed Saturday night, after an unusually quiet evening, I could see it in his eyes. He could feel the shift in me. We were standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom as he pulled my hair back into a single braid. I avoided his gaze as he watched my reflection. When he finished, his arms snaked around my waist, hugging my back to his front as he buried his face in the curve of my neck. It felt like he was trying to anchor me to him - keep me present and pull me back from whatever dark place I was slipping into.

He stayed like that for a while as I leaned my head backward against his shoulder and reached up to run my fingers through his messy hair. I felt strangely disconnected from the scene being reflected in front of me, almost like I was having an out of body experience.

Dieter inhaled deeply before finally pulling away. I gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. Afterward, we undressed each other as had become the routine. He crawled into bed behind me and pulled me against him just as tight as before. We lay in the dark for a time in silence.

“I feel like you’ve been distant for the past few days. Is something bothering you? Did I do something wrong?” he eventually asked.

I didn’t really know the answer to that question. I could confidently say he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I didn’t understand what I was feeling, so I lied.

“No, you haven’t done anything. I think…I’m just wearing down. I haven’t had to dance this much in a long time.”

He didn’t say anything, but the tense set of his shoulders told me he wasn’t buying it. I turned to face him, wrapping myself around his body as he tangled his limbs with mine. After nuzzling my face into the nook under his chin, I took a few minutes to simply exist with him surrounding me. I welcomed his warmth as it sunk into bones. I inhaled his musky scent, allowing it to calm me as I tried to understand why I was feeling this way.

We stayed that way through the night, clinging to each other like it was our last night on this planet. I needed it. It helped bring me back to him, or so I thought.

My downward spiral hit hard on Sunday. I was nearly feeling back to normal when I awoke with a consuming need to have Dieter. We hadn’t been together since lunch at my place on Tuesday, which suddenly had me feeling empty and needy as I watched him sleep.

I let my hand trail down the smooth contour of his back, making small circles that caused him to squirm against me in his slumber. He looked so relaxed, the permanent crease between his brows nearly nonexistent. His lips parted slightly as he inhaled deep, steady breaths. His hair was a mess of fluffy curls that hung down over his forehead. He really was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

My hand moved to trace along the curve of his nose with the tip of my finger, which seemed to rouse him from sleep. His dark eyes blinked open just as my thumb grazed across his perfectly pouty lips. He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulled me a little closer against his chest.

We didn’t speak, instead choosing to get lost in each other's gaze as our hands explored - gliding over any exposed skin they could reach. Something crackled in the air around us, creating an intensity that I wasn’t expecting, making me feel a little emotional as I sought out his lips with mine.

His kiss was slow and sensual, yet still passionate and needy. He took his time, letting the need simmer as his mouth moved against mine with soft touches and gentle sucks. It had my body burning for him as his large palm rested on my neck, grasping under my jaw with his thumb and fingers as he used his weight to shift me onto my back. Something about it made me feel possessed by him, like I was his. Oddly enough, it was exactly what I needed at that moment.

He tilted my head slightly, allowing him to capture my lips and deepen his kiss. His tongue licked into my mouth as his hand released my face and moved south. The backs of his fingertips lightly grazed between my breast and down my stomach before settling at the apex of my thighs, rubbing tight circles in the place I needed it most. His fingers dipped lower to spread my arousal before returning to the sensitive bud. His lips moved lower, placing open mouth kisses along my neck, pausing only to nip along my shoulder with his teeth.

He moved lower still, teasing a nipple with his tongue before nibbling with his teeth. He didn’t bite hard, but it was enough to make me gasp as it sent a jolt of electricity through me. I arched into him as his lips suctioned around the peak and sucked it through his teeth. I let out a quiet whine as he repeated the motions to the other side.

By the time he sunk his fingers into my wet heat, I was near the edge, it only took a few curls against that sweet spot to push me over. He was leaning above me now, his eyes on mine, pupils blown wide as he watched me fall apart under his touch in a way that no one else had ever been able to accomplish.

I went limp, melting into the bedding as his hand moved upward, rubbing along my hip while he gave me a chance to regain my senses. A devilish smirk formed on his lips as his hungry eyes roamed over me. I let out a controlled breath, reaching for his face, allowing my thumb to brush against his now swollen bottom lip. He surprised me, dipping his chin to capture it between his teeth, not really biting it, just holding it there as his lips closed around the tip before dragging them off. The sharpness of his teeth combined with the sucking sensation of his lips sent another jolt through my body, causing me to whine for more. His hand reached for mine as he turned his head, kissing my palm before wrapping his fingers around my wrist to place it above my head.

He shifted, grabbing my free wrist so it could join with the other one. He trapped them both there with one of his large hands, pausing to watch me - giving me a chance to stop him. I could feel my breathing pickup as I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip in anticipation of whatever he was about to do. The smirk was back as he moved between my thighs to line himself up at my entrance. He sank in slowly, jaw going slack and eyes squeezing shut from the feeling. A quiet groan rumbled in his chest, the sound of it nearly had me coming undone all over again.

I watched as the muscles in his torso tensed. His mouth snapped shut as he took a few deep breaths to center himself, his jaw flexing as he did so. His eyes blinked open, focusing on mine. His free hand dropped to my thigh, snaking under it to lift my leg over his upper arm as he leaned forward and pinned me to the bed. He began to move at an agonizingly slow pace, pausing to grind his hips against me between each thrust. He dipped his head just close enough to run his nose along the contours of my face, ghosting his lips against mine but never fully touching them. It was maddening.

As he increased the pace of his thrusts, his grip on my wrists and leg tightened. He watched me squirm under him, seeking more friction. More of his skin. His mouth. His smug smile told me that he had me exactly where he wanted - under his control and at his mercy. He could have done anything he wanted to me because I couldn’t move under his hold.

I never would have allowed Alec to pin me down like this. I never trusted him enough to have that kind of control over me. But with Dieter, it was different. I wanted him to claim me as his. I wanted him to have his way with me because I knew he wouldn’t take advantage of having that kind of power and I was enjoying every second of it.

I could feel the tension building again, both of us panting and sharing the air between us as he pressed his forehead against mine. His groans became louder as he got closer to his release. His lips finally crashed into mine the moment my core tightened around him. His hand released my wrists and came to rest on my neck as his fingertips and thumb dug into the sides of my face. He whimpered against my lips as he fell over the edge with me, his thrust becoming erratic before his body tensed with a guttural groan deep in his chest. He eventually relaxed against me, nearly dissolving into a puddle as my fingers tangled in his hair.

His arms wrapped around me, shifting us to lay on our sides as he buried his face in my neck. We lay with each other in silence, not having said a word to each other since waking. We didn’t have to. Our bodies did the talking for us.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed before he mumbled out a cheeky, “Good morning,” against my neck. I laughed against the top of his fluffy head as he hugged me tighter. The silence stretched between us again, allowing my mind to begin the self sabotage.

The fact that I was willing to give up that much control to him scared me. I could lose myself to him so easily. Hell, I was pretty sure I already was. A part of me worried that it wouldn’t be enough, that I wouldn’t be enough for him. My past was now working against me, making me question everything. I had been so wrong before, to the point that I now couldn’t trust my own judgement.

As we went through our morning routine, I could feel the funk settling in again. It was in full swing as we walked into the dance studio for rehearsals. The damn song for our performance definitely wasn’t helping. It played over and over again as we worked on perfecting our choreography for the week. I was half tempted to find the instrumental version, just so I didn’t have to hear the lyrics anymore because I felt like they were seriously fucking with my emotions. I definitely didn’t need any help with that.

I became distant again, dissociating and only going through the movements. Dieter realized it, of course, but he didn’t say anything. He only watched me, his mind working double time to try and figure out what was going on. He offered to take breaks often, assuming perhaps that my joints were hurting. He was doing everything right, like he always did.

That evening was spray tan night for the cast. The tanning crew were running behind on setup, which left us waiting longer than normal. I ended up needing to excuse myself to go to a nearby restroom, which turned out to be a terrible idea.

I was just finishing up in the end stall and reaching for the handle when I heard someone mention Dieter’s name. I froze as the voices got louder, clearly thinking they were now alone. One of the voices I didn’t recognize, possibly one of the new dancers, but the more prominent one was definitely Anika.

“She can’t seriously think that whole thing is gonna work out with him, right? She is sooo not his type. Everyone knows that Dieter Bravo is into freaky shit. I seriously doubt Kat can keep up with that. She’s so boring. And…let’s be real…the man is known for hooking up with his cast mates and dumping them when the show’s over. Why would she think she’s any different? Guys like that don’t change. It’s just the way they’re wired. I honestly can’t believe she’s even going there.”

The other girl snickered, “Maybe it’s just a rebound thing…something to keep her distracted after that whole Alec and Lana mess. I can’t blame her, I would jump on that as a distraction too. That man is aging like a fine wine. He’s looking really good lately…and the way he moves, you know he has to be a good fuck.”

Anika sighed loudly, “I know, right? I’m a little disappointed he’s not working his way through the cast. I’ve heard he used to be notorious for that. I know that I definitely wouldn’t tell him no.”

Their voices faded as they exited the room. I sunk against the stall door, clutching at my chest, silently begging my heart to calm itself. As if I needed to be reminded of my doubts. Clearly everyone else thought the same thing, I wasn’t enough for him. He was eventually going to get bored and want something more. Just like Alec did. And my heart was going to be absolutely obliterated by it this time. I couldn’t handle it, not from Dieter.

I spent far longer than I should have in that stall, willing the tears not to come. I finally pulled it together enough to rejoin the group. I could hear the blood pumping in my ears as I moved to stand next to Dieter. He noticed something was wrong immediately, his brows pinching together as he looked at me. I avoided his gaze, shaking my head and saying it was nothing. Across the room, I could see Anika and one of the new cast members giving me the side eye.

Luckily we didn’t have to wait long. They were ready for us soon after that, making sure Dieter and I were the first two in and out in an effort to keep us away from my asshole ex. I was thankful for it, needing to get away from the crowd. They were making me feel claustrophobic all of a sudden. I couldn’t help wondering if everyone who stared at us was thinking the same thing as Anika, that I wasn’t enough for him to keep me around.

We made our way back to our dressing rooms after that. Dieter made sure everything was clear in mine before heading to his. I changed quickly, trying to keep my mind on gathering everything I needed to pack into my gym bag. I soon realized that I really needed some time to myself, to figure out what the fuck was going on in my brain.

Dieter was back at my door within minutes. He had a concerned look in his eyes as he asked what I wanted for dinner. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I turned to face him.

“I think…I’m gonna head home for the night. I’ve got a bunch of things that I’ve been neglecting to do…and I need to call my sister. She’s been blowing up my phone about that last TMZ article.”

He inhaled deeply, releasing the breath slowly as he nodded. “Yeah, that’s…fine. I don’t wanna keep you from things.”

I shook my head, “No, you’re not. That’s…on me. I’m procrastinating.”

He pursed his lips as he turned to look down the hallway, rolling his eyes as he looked back toward me. “Alec is wandering around. I’ll walk you to your car.”

I gave him a tight smile, reaching for my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. He walked along beside me, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans as he stared at the ground. I felt like everyone was staring at us as we walked past, which only increased the anxiety I was feeling.

When we got to my car, he pulled the door open for me. His eyes looked sad as they roamed over my face. He swallowed thickly before speaking, “Call me if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.”

I nodded, forcing a smile before turning to get into the driver's seat. After I fastened my seat belt, he shut the door. I watched him as he walked toward his car, head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck with his right hand. His left, was clenching and unclenching into a tight fist. I sighed, leaning my head against the steering wheel as I took deep breaths.

“What the fuck am I doing? He’s not like Alec.”

I had to keep telling myself that like a mantra as I started the car and drove to my house. By the time I got home, I was spiraling hard. Overhearing Anika had really done a number on me. It had me doubting everything.

I sank back onto the sofa with my phone, wasting no time dialing my sister’s number. She answered on the second ring.

“Well, well. To what do I owe the pleasure?” she said in greeting.

I sighed, “Lyd, I need for you to talk some sense into me…please.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, “What happened? I thought things were going well?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, “It was…it is…it’s just…am I being stupid about this? Do you think I’m enough for him?”

“Oh Kat, honey…don’t do this. Everyone can see that man is obsessed with you. I don’t care how hard you try to hide it.”

I rubbed my palm against my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “Yeah, right now he may be…and you know how that is with the dancing. The whole dancer connection thing…he may just be feeling that, ya know? I don’t think I’m what he usually goes for. Not from what I’ve seen anyway. What if he gets bored with me? I can be a very boring person.”

She sighed, “Kat, don’t let what happened with Alec get in the way of what you’re building with Dieter. It’s not the same. He is a completely different person. He actually cares about you…I’m not sure that Alec ever really cared about anyone but himself.”

I sunk down further into the cushions, debating if I wanted to say what I was thinking. Because once I did, it was out there. I would be admitting it out loud to myself and my sister.

I let out a stuttered breath as the tears pooled in my eyes, “I think…I’m in love with him, Lydia….and not in the way I was with Alec. That was nothing compared to this. If he doesn’t want this, I won’t be able to handle it. I think…I think I jumped into this too soon. I’m not sure that I’m ready…”

Lydia huffed into the phone, “Have you talked to Dieter about this? If you haven’t you need to.”

I shook my head even though I knew she couldn’t see me, “No. I haven’t. I don’t know what to say. I don’t understand what I’m feeling because I’ve never felt like this before.”

“So tell him that. You never know, he may feel the same way.”

The tears were falling now. I absentmindedly wiped them away, “And if he doesn’t? Then I’ve made an ass of myself.”

“Hmm, well…something tells me he does.”

I let out a controlled breath, “Maybe…I should just slow things down. We’ve been all in from the first second…literally days after I ended a six year, very toxic relationship. I jumped in head first and it’s just going too fast.”

I could hear shuffling on the other end of the line, then a door closing. “What’s happening that makes it fast? Did he ask you to marry him or something?”

I scoffed, “Geez, no.”

“What then? Did he ask you to move in?”

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “No. But I mean, I’ve basically lived at his house since we got back from New York.”

She chuckled, “That’s kind of what couples do when they're in the honeymoon phase, Kat. Has he even told you that he loves you yet?”

“Umm, no. He hasn’t. That word has not been said and that discussion not had.”

“So how the hell is it going too fast? Just because you feel like you’re in love with him? Some people feel that the first time they meet their significant other. I did. I knew immediately.”

I whined, “I feel like you’re missing the point. It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it though? That’s all it boils down too. You’re worried it’s too soon. It’s not.”

I fell over onto my side, burying my face into a decorative pillow and groaning in frustration. “OK, well…aside from that. I’m still worried he’s gonna get bored with me and move on once the show is over. I’m still not convinced this isn’t just due to the situation and hormones. God…the hormones. I seriously don’t know what he’s done to me. I swear, I could spend a whole weekend in bed with the man and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Lydia snorted out a laugh, “That good, huh?”

I sighed, “Yes, he is. I’ve let him do things to me no one has ever done…and I want him to do more. He’s addicting. The sex is addicting. That’s not normal…”

“Ehh, please stop there. I don’t wanna know the details of that…”

I let out a humorless laugh, “The sad part is, it’s all been pretty tame. I’m so fucking vanilla.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that…Look, obviously your cock-whipped. I get it. You haven’t had a decent lay in years. I guess I can see where you're coming from…BUT being in love and lust are completely different. You said he was making a point to make it not about sex, right? That means something…”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I considered her words, “Yeah, he does do that. We do go days without doing anything. He’s actually capable of having intimate moments without escalating it.”

“See, that’s why I think it’s something more. He’s putting in the effort. And have you seen the way he looks at you? Even if he hasn’t said it…and maybe he hasn’t put a word to it yet…but I’m fairly certain that man has big feelings for you. He’s never put this kind of effort into a relationship before.”

My brows furrowed in confusion, “What, are you two having secret conversations behind my back? How the hell would you know?”

She laughed nervously, “Well, when my only sister starts seeing a new man after being with an absolute dick for so long…you better bet I’m gonna investigate the fucker. I did my homework…and from what I’ve seen and what you’ve told me, this is different for him too. He’s invested. And if you need proof, get on YouTube and look up videos of you guys rehearsing and dancing. It’s obvious. There’s something there that was never there with Alec. Has he given you any reason to doubt him?”

I sighed, “No…it’s been the opposite actually. He’s been perfect…but that doesn’t mean he won’t get bored with me later.”

It was her turn to sigh, “Well, you have to decide if that’s a risk you’re willing to take. He probably has the same fears, ya know? Especially if he’s as into you as I think he is.”

My head was spinning. She had some good points, and she was right. I needed to decide if I was willing to risk it. So, really, I was right back where I started. My mind was working overtime examining every detail, and in the end, I was really just psyching myself out.

Lydia broke through my thoughts, “So, what was with the social media posts and the TMZ stuff? You guys fucking with them or what because I know my sister’s ass when I see it.”

I snorted out a laugh, “Yeah, something like that. Just keeping Stacia and Joe on their toes more than anything. They were pissed over it.”

She cackled, “Good. They deserve it.”

We hung up soon after that. I had hoped that I would feel better after talking with Lydia, but in reality, I felt even more confused. I took her advice, pulling up YouTube on my phone and entering our names in the search bar. The search results populated every second of our time on the show together. I spent a good hour watching clips, starting with the oldest ones first.

It was obvious from week one that we had chemistry. Even on those filming days that hadn’t been so great, the spark between us was still there. I had joked with him about having heart eyes in recent weeks, but looking back now, he had them all along. The only difference was the longing was no longer there. It was replaced with something else. Happiness maybe?

There was something sort of comforting about seeing his confidence grow through the clips. More than that, seeing our trust in each other grow. There was no hesitation between us now. We were completely at ease with being in each other’s space, anticipating the other’s movements, moving as one. The connection between us when we danced really was something to behold. I could now understand why it had become such a big deal on the show. We weren’t fooling anyone. The fire burning between us was too big to hide.

I was beginning to feel better about things, until I made a major mistake. I opened google and typed in his name. The first thing that popped up in the search results was the most recent TMZ article. I, of course, clicked on it. I took a few minutes to inspect the pictures. I could tell it was me in them, but it really could have been anyone from that distance. Dieter’s broad frame was unmistakable though. Not many people had a shoulder to waist ratio like him.

I scrolled to the bottom of the article, clicking the “Dieter Bravo” tag to see what else came up. I shouldn't have. It linked to an endless amount of articles that showed him out at clubs, women and men hanging off of him. More times than not he had either a cigarette or bottle of liquor in his hand, sometimes both. There were videos of him making out with people. Sometimes more than one person. Some of the faces I recognized from the films he had been in.

What stood out to me was how he was behaving. In some of the clips it was obvious he was high on something. Even in the clips where the paparazzi caught him walking down the street during the day. He looked disheveled and seemed fidgety and agitated as he responded to questions with smart ass remarks. This definitely wasn’t my Dieter.

What caught my attention the most were the types of women he surrounded himself with. They all looked the same, small and curvy with big chests and fish lips - very plastic. Very fake. Very Hollywood. More times than not, he was with multiple women and men as he left a club or after party. I couldn’t help wondering if that was something he was into. Was it his preference to be with multiple people at once? Would I be OK with that if it was? No, I wouldn’t. I don’t share.

I was spiraling again, realizing I wasn’t his usual flavor. Sure, I was fit with a dancer's body. However, where these women were soft, I was not. My body was lean and toned from a lifetime of movement. My boobs were damn near non-existent by their standards. I definitely didn’t have over inflated lips or a straight nose. I was suddenly feeling inadequate in every way when it came to Dieter’s preferences. I didn’t really understand what he saw in me if this was what he typically went for. And if he had a taste for multiples, he was definitely going to get bored with me because that is the one thing I would not do, even for him.

This line of thinking brought me back to the dancer connection, the chemical reaction that happens between two people who are forced into such intimate circumstances for an extended period of time. They bond and form an attachment that quickly fades. I had seen it happen so many times on this show, often fizzling out as soon as the season ended. But there were some couples that didn’t. Some of them were now happily married with a family.

I was questioning my own feelings now. How real were they? Was this just an infatuation? If his feelings were real, would I hurt him? Would he hurt me? He did seem to form attachments to his co-stars and quickly discard them. I didn’t understand why I was so confused. I felt lost. Deep down, I knew the majority of this stemmed from what Alec had put me through. I knew I needed to stop comparing Dieter to that asshole, but I couldn’t help it. Alec was my only real relationship prior to Dieter. It was the only comparison I had. Given Dieter’s history, it didn’t feel like that far of a stretch. However, I knew they were both in completely different places in their lives.

I sighed, tossing my phone on the table before digging my palms into my eyes. My mind was exhausted and so was my body. I reached behind me and pulled the small throw blanket off the back of the couch and covered myself up. I had only intended to take a quick nap, but it turned into something much longer.

It was near 6:30 AM when I awoke from my very restless sleep. My body ached from the crumpled up position I had been sleeping in. I puffed air out of my cheeks and reached for my phone, expecting to see a message from Dieter, but there was nothing.

I felt like shit because I didn’t even tell him goodnight and now he was probably upset. Or, maybe he was happy to have a break from me? I shook that thought away, standing and stretching as I moved toward the shower. I didn’t have a lot of time before I had to be at Television City Studios for show day, so everything turned into a rush.

Dieter was already there waiting with my coffee in hand. He gave me a tentative smile as I approached, taking the coffee from him and immediately inhaling a big gulp. I felt exhausted. I could already tell today would be a struggle.

My eyes met his as I wiped away the excess liquid on my upper lip, “Sorry I didn’t text or call last night. I completely knocked out on the couch, and now I feel like I slept on a bed of rocks.”

His brows pinched together, “Are you good to dance today?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be fine once I stretch and move around some. I’m just stiff.”

He stood staring at me, looking unconvinced as we were called up to do our camera blocking. I once again found myself zoning out and going through the motions. The routine felt flat because of it. I knew I would need to get it together before the live show or else it wasn’t going to go well.

I was in a daze as we went through our final fitting and hair and makeup. I could tell that Dieter was trying his best to carry the bulk of conversations for us as he snuck concerned glances my way. I tried to act normal, but it was getting harder as the day wore on. My mind was swimming with negative thoughts and they were beginning to overwhelm me. I knew this couldn’t continue. I needed to talk to Dieter about it. It was the only way to fix it. I decided I would after the show.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I forgot my phone as we moved to the staging area, which meant our whole pre-performance hype song tradition was broken. It didn’t seem to phase Dieter. He just shrugged it off saying it wasn’t a big deal. Instead, he pulled me to stand in front of him as we watched the couple before us dance. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me back against him.

I let his body heat sink into me, wrapping me up like a warm blanket. For a brief second, I forgot it all as I turned to glance up at him. He looked absolutely breathtaking. They had styled his hair in loose curls this time, allowing them to hang freely over his eyes. It was my favorite look on him so far. So much better than that slicked back bullshit they had been doing to him. The silky lavender button up he was wearing emphasized the broadness of his chest and shoulders, hugging his arms in a way that should be criminal.

He seemed to notice me admiring him, causing him to move his mouth close to my ear, close enough that I could feel his warm breath exhaling against it. “I don’t think I’ve told you how amazing you look today. I love this color on you.”

I glanced up at him with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. It was nice to hear the compliment given that I found myself feeling extremely self conscious today, suddenly very aware of how small the dress made my boobs look. Fucking hell Kat, you’re being ridiculous.

The minutes seemed to shrink to seconds as we waited for our turn. It came much faster than I anticipated. Before I knew it, we were taking our places on the dance floor. As the opening notes of the piano sounded through the ballroom, Dieter approached me from behind, wrapping one arm around my waist to pull me back against him. His free hand rose to my cheek, turning my face so that I would look at him. His nose nuzzled against mine as he caressed down the curve of my neck. His eyes pulled me into a trance-like state, like they always seemed to do when we performed together. The fire between us was set ablaze as I let the lyrics of the song really fully settle into the pit of my gut for the first time. I felt every word, every syllable, and poured those emotions into our performance as he spun me around the dance floor.

A good portion of this routine had us making eye contact, lips grazing, hands gliding over bodies - it was probably our most intimate routine to date and it had me feeling everything. All the things that I had been desperately trying to shove into the box at the back of my mind were now strewn half haphazardly across my mind. It was overwhelming, causing the panic to bubble to the surface. I could feel it in every fiber of my being. I was terrified and unsure if I was ready to fully open my heart up to him, because if he didn’t want this, it would break me in a way that I knew I would struggle to come back from.

I wasn’t strong enough to do this. Even though I didn’t feel this strongly for Alec, he still hurt me. I hadn’t realized how bad until this moment. I was still guarding my heart, struggling to knock down the wall that surrounded it, convinced my relationship with Dieter would eventually meet the same end…because I would never be enough.

I knew Dieter could sense the turmoil in my thoughts. I could see it on his face. It didn’t take long before the tears were prickling at my eyes. I could see his nostrils flare as our eyes met, the panic was spreading to him now. I swear he knew what I was thinking as he seemed to try and reassure me with his eyes and his touch.

Once we reached the end of the song, he surprised me by pulling me into his arms rather than doing a dip as planned. His hands found my cheeks as he pressed his forehead against mine. I could faintly hear him over the roar of the crowd asking me if I was ok as the lights dimmed. I couldn’t speak, because if I did, I would fall apart. So, I shook my head. He leaned in next to my ear and hugged me, “It’s ok, I’ve got you. I’m here.”

When the lights popped back on, I peered up at him with tears in my eyes. He let out a controlled breath before pulling me along behind him to our interview spot. It took everything in me to hold it together through the judges' comments. I could feel Dieter’s arms tensing around me, his embrace tightening like he was trying to hold me together. It was obvious he was distracted as he rambled through his responses to whatever questions he was being asked as he shot worried glances my way.

I knew I had to look like a lunatic on camera with my unblinking gaze fixed on nothing as the storm brewed inside. My breathing was slowly becoming more shallow as I fought back tears, because in that moment I knew that I couldn’t do this. My feelings for him were too much - all consuming. I had never felt anything this intense in my life and it scared the hell out of me. I knew this thing between us was absolutely going to destroy me if I let it go any further. If I gave that last piece of myself over to him, and he decided he wanted to move on after this, I wouldn’t survive it.

I didn’t register what our scores were, simply going through the motions as Dieter forced a smile and hugged me against his side. Once they gave the signal that the camera was no longer on us, I pulled away, intent on going to my dressing room before I completely broke down in front of everyone. I couldn’t be in the middle of all the chaos of the show right now, I needed to be somewhere where I could breathe.

By the time I stepped into the hallway, I was struggling for air as tears flooded my vision. I could hear Dieter behind me brushing off questions from the cast and crew as he trailed behind me. He called my name several times as he ran to catch up to me just as I was entering my dressing room. I moved to shut the door before he could enter, but his large hand stopped it. I looked up, our eyes connecting through the crack. I could see the panic on his pleading face, like he already knew.

“Kat, talk to me. Please.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore, turning away from him as I buried my face in my hands and fought back the sobs that were threatening to break free. I heard the door close behind me, then his hands were on my shoulders, pulling me toward him. I shrugged him off and stepped away. When I finally turned to face him, the tears were flowing freely. Am I really gonna do this? Yes. Yes, I am.

The look on his face nearly split my heart in half and had me second guessing everything.

“Dieter…I-I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He shook his head from side to side, “Kat, don’t… please.”

“I’m sorry, it’s…just too much…and I don’t know if any of what we’re feeling is real. I think…I think we just need to put on the brakes, at least until the show’s over. This is just too much, too fast. I can’t do it.”

Understanding seemed to cross his expression, “You think this is just another on set fling for me?”

I sighed, “I-I don’t know. The circumstances we’re in, it’s not unusual for dance partners to have intense emotions like this. What we do, it requires a lot of trust and a bond that doesn’t always last after the dancing ends.”

He came closer, hands reaching for me, but pausing to pull back at the last minute, “So, then we don’t stop dancing. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you in my life, Kat.”

His voice broke as he spoke. He was on the verge of tears himself now.

I backed away, shaking my head, determined to stick to my decision. “I can’t. This was a bad idea. It was too soon, for the both of us.”

His hands fisted at his sides as the tears slid down his cheeks, “I asked you…and you said you were sure. I told you from the beginning that I can’t go back to the way things were before. I meant it when I said it was all or nothing for me…and you said you were sure.”

The memory of that night on the terrace in New York flooded all of my senses. The thrill and excitement that I had been feeling left no room in my mind to consider the consequences of our actions. All I knew then was that I wanted him, consequences be damned. I never imagined we would end up here.

He sighed, wiping at his face. “I know…my history doesn’t work in my favor, OK? I realize that…but I’m not that person anymore. Any remaining pieces of that person completely disappeared the moment I walked into that dance studio the first day. All those times before, they meant nothing to me and I’ve told you that. I didn’t have feelings for any of those people. I don’t even remember half of them…I wasn’t in a good place…I just wanted to feel something, but I didn’t. I was numb to it all…until you. I need you to understand that.”

My heart was shattering seeing him like this. His response was visceral and raw. He was saying all the right things. I wanted to believe him, but I had been here before. I had heard a similar plea from Alec the first time he fucked up. I wanted to trust Dieter. My gut was telling me that I could, but my heart was building the wall taller. I stood in silence, watching every emotion play out on his face as I thought through things. He looked almost hopeful as I began to speak, but it quickly faded.

“I - I…can’t. I just can’t. I wasn’t ready for this…I didn’t expect to…” fall in love with you.

My words trailed off. I couldn’t say it out loud, realizing this was the first time that I had ever actually been in love with someone. I don’t know what it was with Alec, but it wasn’t this. It was nothing close to this.

I shook my head, “I’m sorry, Dieter. I can’t go through this again.”

His mouth fell open as he huffed out a breath, “You…don’t believe that I’ve changed?”

Fuck. That wasn’t what I was implying at all. I shook my head, “Dieter, no…I...”

He held up his hand, rolling his lips together as he nodded, like he understood everything now. He seemed stoic all of a sudden, his distant eyes roaming over me like it was the last time before turning toward the door. He didn’t even bother to close it behind him as he disappeared down the hallway.

My heart shattered into a million pieces as realization set in. I could sugar coat it all I wanted, but he wasn’t wrong. When I dug down to the root of the issue, it was because of his past. The seed had been planted and completely poisoned my thoughts and emotions against him. I had unintentionally done the one thing that would cut him the deepest, I didn’t believe in him - I didn’t believe he had changed.

I didn’t know where to start or how to handle this. So, I did the only thing I could do at that moment. I moved to close the door, then turned to press my back against it. After sliding down to sit on the floor, I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face to muffle the sobs that raked through my body. I had made such a mess of everything, handling it in the worst way possible and completely fucking it all up.

Tonight, I would go home. To my home - alone. I would spend the night replaying the last few weeks over and over in my mind, chastising myself as I tried to figure out where things went wrong and what I actually wanted. I felt overwhelmed and broken for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with Dieter, yet he was the one being punished and I was the one punishing him.

Next: Week 9

✨Your Viennese Waltz video for this chapter can be found HERE. It's a steamy one. 😏

Hello my lovelies! Finally! A new chapter! Yay! 😬

Are you ready to come at me with pitch forks now? We knew the honeymoon period could only last so long, right? Kat has been in her head about this the whole time. I was surprised more people didn't see it coming...I think there was only one that sort of got it?

So, this chapter was a little different. We were very much in Kat's head and focused less on what was happening around her because she was focused less on it. Though...there was that steamy quality time with Dieter that she was very present for. 🤭

And before you ask, I did not list this week's song on purpose. There is a reason. We will find out what it was later...but there are hints. If someone can figure it out, I'll be nice and answer any question you have, even if it's a spoiler. 😏

The next chapter is going to be a doozy. There will be more angst. Dieter is going to have a little bit of a blow up (on camera). Kat has another conversation with her sister and it goes about like you might expect it to. There is so much scheming going on from Stacia, Joe, and Anika! Dieter struggles a bit and we get a classic misunderstanding. And something I'm sort of excited about...one of the characters we love to hate might get a little bit of a redemption arc. Any guesses on who?

Until next time, 💜Mysty

P.S. It seems some of my minor edits were not saved. If you see errors, that's on me because I'm too lazy to go through it all again. 😅

CP Taglist: @titlee78 @legendary-pink-dot @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed

@hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin

@cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza

@girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer

@darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions

@myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter

@burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923

@sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held

@gwendibleywrites @senorabond @annalovesflorida @sandaltoesocks @katw474

@txlady37 @inkmonster21 @sunnytuliptime @jeewrites @fifitheragertot

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dancing dieter #sober dieter #soft dieter #cat dad dieter #plant dad dieter #slow burn #closed position series

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runninriot · 4 months ago

Text

No Universe Where Our Paths Never Crossed

written as fill for the @steddiebingo card prompt: romance

wc: 2.457 | rated: E | tags: declarations of love, fluff and smut, sexual content, established relationship | also on ao3

The room is dark apart from the faint glow of the string of fairy lights hanging above the bed frame. Covering them in a warm yellow hue just bright enough to see Steve’s soft eyes whenever their lips part for a second or two.

It’s late, already close to midnight, but sleep seems to be the last thing on either of their minds. Both too busy keeping their lips and bodies pressed together, still revelling in the afterglow of post-orgasmic bliss. Slowly sobering up, the violent rush of passionate overindulgence still buzzing in their veins.

Still caught in that in-between state of coming down from the adrenaline high and giving in to bone-deep exhaustion. That floaty-happy state of mind where the world seems to turn a little slower and time seems to almost-stop for the sake of making the moment last longer.

Eddie had never known a peace quite like this before Steve came into his life, with his unapologetic love and unwavering devotion.

He makes everything better, takes his life to a level of perfection he never thought he’d reach. Makes him feel like the luckiest man on earth, to have someone in his life who sees him for who he is and loves him not in spite but because of it.

Who isn’t afraid of all these big feelings that sometimes are too much for one heart to hold and helps him carry the weight of it all, offers his own to take half the burden. Always ready to fight for what they have and even the things yet to come, all the dreams they share and whisper about in secret when it’s just them and the night as their witness.

This is the stuff Eddie had only known from romance novels and movies, the ones he’ll deny for the rest of his life to have read and watched because he’s a tough guy.

Only Steve knows he really is not.

Because with him it’s so easy to be soft.

With Steve, being vulnerable doesn’t feel like a weakness, doesn’t feel like defeat.

With Steve, it feels good to let down his guard because he’s always there to catch him when it gets too much.

It’s like a never-ending dream, this reality he finds himself in, and he has to remind himself sometimes that this is not just a fantasy he creates in his mind. That lying next to a naked Steve is something he can just do now. That he’s allowed to drag his blunt nails over Steve’s skin just to watch him shiver. Allowed to place a kiss on every mole and scar that paints this beautiful canvas. To touch him where no one else does. To love and cherish him in all these special ways.

To indulge these sweet, gentle moments as much as the ones where their love becomes messy. When they fuck, loud and raw and unashamed. Because there is no shame in wanting each other so much. To love with their hearts and their bodies – sometimes it’s easier to show than tell because it’s impossible to put into words what he feels for the man at his side.

“Hey Eddie?” Steve’s voice suddenly pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Would you still love me if-“

“Yes!” Eddie answers immediately, doesn’t have to think about it.

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Not how I remember it but okay,” he snorts, finds himself hilarious.

“Babe! I’m trying to be serious here.”

Steve scoots back a bit, only bringing enough distance between them so he can look Eddie in the eyes.

“Sorry, I’m listening. Would I still love you if…”

Whatever scenario his hypothetical worm-boyfriend is thinking of, the answer will always be the same, Eddie is sure. But he waits patiently nonetheless for Steve to continue.

“I mean- do think we would still be together if it wasn’t for the Upside Down?”

Oh, this is not what Eddie expected at all.

“Would you still love me, if we hadn’t met like that?”

They’ve obviously known each other from school, long before the whole Vecna disaster, but Eddie knows what Steve means. It’s hard to imagine that their paths would’ve crossed naturally if it hadn’t been for the horrors of the world almost ending. Sure, there was the possibility of them running into each other at Hellfire, thanks to the little shits‘ endearingly annoying ways of using both their older friends for rides and other conveniences.

But would they ever have taken the chance to talk, to get to know each other? Highly unlikely. Especially with all the false ideas Eddie had about Steve. All the stupid, prejudicious bullshit feeding into the illusion of unfounded, non-existent rivalry between them.

And still, considering all of that, Eddie’s answer remains unchanged.

“Yes.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

He does. This isn’t just him saying that to make Steve happy; he truly believes it.

“There’s no way I wouldn’t find my way to you, Stevie. In this life or any other.”

His boyfriend looks at him with eyes so achingly soft, it makes Eddie’s heart flutter.

“You make my life complete, baby. It wouldn’t be right without you in it. My heart wouldn’t stop searching until I found you, no matter where and how.”

“That-” Steve rubs his eyes, not so subtly wiping away the stray tears making their way down his face, “was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”

He snorts but Eddie can hear how choked-up he is, try to hide it as he might.

“Come on, that was romantic! And I mean it, baby. There’s no version of us, in any universe, where I’m not in love with you.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Well, yeah. And we both know that’s part of why you love me.”

Eddie uses the moment of surprise to roll on top of Steve, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists on either side of his head before he leans down to kiss him. Gentle at first but it soon turns into more tongue than lips, the rhythm rough and needy.

Beneath him, Steve answers with soft noises and rocking hips, chasing more of Eddie’s closeness, more of his body’s warmth, more of everything he can grasp.

“Say it, baby. Say you love me,” Eddie demands but doesn’t give Steve the chance to comply. Keeps his words trapped where their tongues curl around each other, sharing a different kind of confession in the form of spit and breath.

“Love you, baby,” Steve finally confirms when Eddie’s mouth wanders to the side of his neck. “In this universe and every other.”

Eddie’s lips Instinctively find the twin moles that are his favourite – because they look like they’re past-life vampire bites – and Eddie wonders amused, if maybe in another dimension, he is the one that gave them to him. If maybe there’s another timeline, where the Demobats did finish him off. Where their blood mixed with his and he came back to life – changed, but with a heart still beating for the young man in his arms – because not even death could keep them apart.

For the sake of this fantasy, he bites Steve’s throat hard enough to make him squirm and wince at the unexpected sensation of teeth pressing into sensitive skin before he kisses it better, seals the mark with a firm press of lips.

He continues his path further down Steve’s body but ignores the urge to stop and close his mouth around the pebbled flesh surrounded by a lush patch of hair, driven by the desire to offer his boyfriend another kind of sensation.

Eddie moves slow, his breath ghosting over Steve’s skin, not breaking eye contact on his way down.

“Baby, please.”

Steve’s needy whine goes straight to his head, makes his cock ache with longing for the body that was made to fit his own.

With one hand wrapped around the base of Steve’s cock, Eddie darts his tongue out to savour the familiar taste of his boyfriend’s arousal and feels instantly high on it. Captures beads of precum on the tip of his tongue and lets it mix with his spit; lets it collect there until it starts to dribble, watching the sweet mess he’s making with greedy eyes.

Steve lets out an appreciative sigh when Eddie finally wraps his lips around him, taking him in and taking him down, sinking deeper in agonisingly slow motion.

“Oh fuck, baby. Feels s-so good.”

One of Steve’s hands takes hold of his hair, fingers digging into tangled curls. The grip is tight but he doesn’t push or pull, just holds on to Eddie while he’s taking his time, keeps the movement of his head slow and steady, dragging the pad of his tongue up and down the pulsing vein beneath tender skin. Sucks and licks and indulges his own longing for Steve’s desperate pleas – the whimpers and moans of a man slowly losing his patience.

He'd use his fingers now to stretch and prepare Steve for more. But he’s already had his fill, has already been spread open on Eddie’s cock when he fucked him earlier, quick and hard because sometimes Steve likes it a little rough. And Eddie always gives him what he wants. Loves every version of their shared obsession for each other.

Right now, even if he doesn’t say it, Eddie knows Steve needs more than just the ardent act of two bodies consuming each other whole. Needs that gentler kind of worship, that not only goes deep but leaves a lasting impression. Something to ease his mind that too often drifts to a place of uncertainty. Where Steve worries too much about what ifs he couldn’t change either way. Rotating alternate outcomes of what they’ve gone through – What if you’d died? What if we had never met? What if the world we know didn’t exist anymore?

Eddie gets it. It’s hard sometimes to believe that the reality they’re living isn’t just some kind of fever dream. That they actually made it out alive and took the gift of second chances to steer life into a direction that seemed impossible before.

Like this, right here. Having Steve’s naked body beneath him. Getting to taste him, all of him. Getting to see him at his most vulnerable – lying in between his parted legs, letting his lips glide over burning skin, collecting his purest essence on his tongue when he lets it curl around the leaking tip of Steve’s cock and down his length. Does it again and again until Steve’s breathy moans become frustrated groans. Until the hand gripping his hair pulls hard enough to make it sting, sending a zapping pain through his scalp and down his neck. Until Steve’s thighs are shaking with unbearable pleasure – he’s close, Eddie can feel it.

But he’s determined to draw it out this time, wants Steve to fall deeper than before. Wants to tease all his worries out of him and replace them with colour and light, bathe him in a million shades of love, each representing another them in another life.

With his muscle still loose, Eddie’s fingers slip in easy – first two, then three – his spit-coated tongue making sure the glide is smooth and slick.

Steve writhes and moans, repeating Eddie’s name like a prayer, every thrust another plea, every drag of his tongue coaxing out another delirious confession.

Only you. Always us. Forever mine. Yours, in every universe.

“Kiss me, baby, please!”

Eddie follows the pull, lets Steve’s hand drag him up to where he’s waiting with parted lips, panting hard, eyes glazed, so beautiful it’s hard to tear his gaze away. But he relents, closes the distance between their lips and kisses him deep.

Doesn’t stop when he wraps his arms around Steve’s thighs to bend and adjust and reposition himself. Keeps kissing him when the heat of Steve’s body welcomes him in, welcomes him home. Taking his cock with little resistance, clenching around him with every deliberate drag against his inner walls that drives him closer and closer to the edge.

Eddie fucks him slow and deep with measured movements and a steady pace, no uncontrolled snapping of hips, every thrust and pull tensive and teasing – it’s torture, not to give in. Not to follow the silent request of Steve’s heels digging harshly into his back. Not to speed up and let loose, to surrender to his own body’s desperate need for relief.

“Baby, ah! Please, I-“

Steve’s a trembling mess and Eddie feels no better off, feels the undenying pull of his building orgasm that threatens to take him out cold.

And when it does, it’s like whole galaxies collide and explode to form something new. Creating a cosmos that is made just for them. Where every particle, every atom holds a piece of their love.

Eddie comes inside Steve and Steve follows not seconds behind, makes a sweet mess where his cock is trapped between their rocking bodies. They’re both crying out the other’s names, holding on to their sweat-drenched skin with trembling hands, like it’s the only thing that keeps them from falling apart completely.

It doesn’t matter how many times they’ve done this; fucked each other into oblivion and back. Eddie will never get used to the feeling, will never stop wondering how he deserves to shine in Steve’s light when they’re burning together like falling stars on their way through the atmosphere.

How lucky he is to have found the other half of his soul in a man whose heart beats the perfect rhythm to the song that rings in every cell of his being.

Their come down outlasts the previous, makes time stretch out like thick molasses while they breathe and touch and kiss. Drifting together in the here and now of every parallel universe they exist in.

Eventually, they find their way back to themselves and each other – like they always do and always will.

“I would love you always and everywhere,” Eddie answers Steve’s former question once more just for the sake of it.

“In every universe,” Steve adds and affirms his words with another kiss.

That’s how they fall asleep in crumpled sheets, arms wrapped around each other tightly. No space between them for any doubts or worries to spread and stick. Just them and their love, drifting in the tranquil hours of the remaining night.

And as his minds starts to wander, Eddie dreams of fantastical worlds – of pirates and mermaids, of angels and demons, of kings and jesters, of rock stars and fame and a future with rings on their fingers – him and Steve together in all of them.

No happy ending without the man in his arms.

No universe where their paths never crossed.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #steddiebingo2025

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wordpress-blaze-36010151 · 1 hour ago

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I am a Failure

Recently, I have been contemplating failure and its spiritual dimensions. In large part, this is because failure’s counterpart, success, is such a strange thing to pin down. I think Daniel Berrigan was onto something when he referred to success as being a weasel word and horribly American. But this recent contemplation of mine is also because, by all accounts, Jesus of Nazareth was a failure as well. Certainly, he had the makings of a successful person, but in the end, he died scandalized and humiliated on a Roman Cross.

As I was recently reminded at a gathering of Lutherans, many are certainly happy to celebrate Jesus becoming a failure for us, but those qualities that brought him to a Roman cross seem to be overlooked for the systematic nature of Paul’s letters. At times, I am not so sure what to make of this dynamic, because when Jesus’ words are referenced, they are just as quickly taken out of context.

It might seem strange that I am writing about failure, given my background as a pastor and professor with a Ph.D. I think I would be considered a “success” by some. However, in a very real sense, I don’t know what to do with such a judgment. Not because I am against being considered a success, but because there is so much more to me than just these things. There are many places where I might be deemed a failure. I resigned from a reputable pastoral position in part because of interpersonal dynamics, I struggle with OCD, I can certainly worry about the most ridiculous things, and I can be harsh and impatient. My successes can all too easily cover up my failures or, in another very real sense, my humanity. However, what strikes me through all my experiences is that it is in the failures and the struggles that the gold is found. After all, Christians believe that one man’s failure is what saves us from our sins.

Recently, I read a great interview with theologian William T. Cavanaugh concerning success and failure. In the interview, Cavanaugh explains how, when it comes to positions of power and our desire for them, we rarely ask or consider how the position might change us. Rather, we often view it in the opposite direction, with a very individualistic lens, on how we can change the world through our position. I thought this was such a powerful insight, as we tend to approach the world around us in such ways when, in all actuality, the world around us influences us far more than we influence it. And really, wasn’t that the struggle of Jesus of Nazareth, not succumbing to the influence of the world? Satan tempted him with the very things that make for a successful person: power, prestige, and security, and certainly, no cross. Peter rebuked him over all his cross talk. And certainly had Jesus been more agreeable, he could have found a seat at the table of his enemies, the Pharisees. Yet, the ultimate symbol of failure lay ahead of him for all to see. I suppose we can say that such is what happens when one does not seek success, but instead faithfulness to the ways of God – failure.

Source: I am a Failure

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vminizzle · 2 years ago

Text

Wanna get married

pairing : bestfriend!jungkook x f.reader

genre : FLUFF

warnings : mention of drinking alcohol, reader is tipsy, jungkook is bestfriend goal, they cute, that's all :)

word count : 1.7k

A/N : Hi my lovely people, I hope you've been doing good. Like I told you, I wrote a little drabble for you guys since I'm making you guys wait for sweet lips 3,, It's just a little something just to thank you guys for your patience and reading my stuff. REMINDER : poor English,, I wanna apologise in advance like you guys already know English is not my first language so please don't mind the mistake. Love you guys - sunny

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED 🍂

“wanna get married?” you asked between giggles.

“you confident?” he raised an eyebrow amused at the sudden burst.

“I’m asking if you can handle.” he smiled teasingly as you let your body rest on his.

“Of course I can.” you replied as you looked up at him, your hand going up to his hair to play with the long black locks.

Jungkook bit on his bottom lip, staring down at you. You looked so beautiful, the moonlight showing off your pretty features, he could only smiled.

“I want to kiss you.” you whispered eyes sparkling as you stared at his lips with lust.

“angel, you know we can’t do that.” Jungkook laughed slightly, holding you by your waist.

“I love you Jungkook.” you blurted out after a few seconds, arms wrapping around his neck.

His heart skipped a beat at the words, throat getting dry. He knew you weren’t thinking right so he avoid the conversation.

“y/n, you’re drunk.” he flicked your forehead making you whine in pain.

“noo I’m not!” you punched him lightly on his chest making him laugh.

“C’mon let’s go home.” he held you tightly, helping you walk as you kept on struggling to stand straight.

“my feet hurt.” you whined tiredly letting your body dropped on the ground.

Jungkook watched as you took your shoes off throwing them at the other side of the road.

“hey hey no don’t do that.” he closed his eyes exasperate.

Your best friend crouched down sighing at your current state.

“I shouldn’t had let you drink.” he shook his head before grabbing your hand helping you up.

He went to grab your shoes handing them back to you.

“C’mon, we’re not so far from home.” he encouraged you making you shake your head.

“I’m tired. I can’t walk anymore.” you huffed.

“You can go home, let me there.” you pointed to the sidewalk.

Jungkook watched in disbelief as you sat on the ground again.

“are you serious right now?” he tilted his head to the side.

“good night.” you yawned as you were about to lay down making Jungkook rushed to you to stop you from executing your stupid idea.

Your best friend sighed heavily before pulling you up again.

“C’mon.” he turned around, bending his knees slightly.

“piggyback?” you said excited, jumping on his back making Jungkook groaned.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed loudly, voice resonating in the dark empty streets, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Be quiet y/n.” he warned shushing you.

“yessir.” you whispered giggling making Jungkook smiled softly.

You nuzzled your head into his neck, your warm breath caressing his skin gently.

After walking for a few minutes, you were in front of your best friend’s house.

Jungkook was hesitant about you sleeping at his house tonight. Not that he didn’t like you staying over. Not at all. He loved when you’re spending time together. You’re used to do movie nights, sleepovers at each others, but tonight was different.

You were not really sober.

And he wasn’t sure of how you were about to act.

When being drunk, you often try to kiss him, confess your love to him; you’re just really clingy.

Unlocking the front door, he gestured you to enter first before locking it after him.

Turning around you envelope his body into a big hug surprising him as you look up at him.

“you’re handsome tonight.” you said shyly making him smile with a breathy laugh escaping his mouth.

“thanks. You’re not bad yourself.” he flicked your forehead making you pout.

“go upstairs, I’ll come in a few minutes.” he pushed you gently to the stairs.

“you can change into confortable clothes. You know where it is.” he said before walking away.

A few minutes late, Jungkook was standing in front of his bedroom’s door knocking softly on it, waiting for you to allow him to enter the room.

“y/n?” he knocked again when he heard nothing. It was silent.

“Can I come in?”

Jungkook threw his head back tiredly before huffing getting a bit sleepy. He just wanted to sleep.

“Can I come in? Are you finished?” he asked again a bit louder.

Did you fall asleep?

Are you in the bathroom?

Did you faint??

Entering the room almost panicked, Jungkook‘s eyes widen slightly in relief.

Here you were standing in the middle of the room wearing one of his Calvin Klein oversized shirt.

“Koo!” you ran to him with a wide smile on your face, hands coming to his broad shoulders for another hug, the oversized shirt ridding up your thighs when doing so.

“hey.” he gulped feeling your body pressed oh his tightly.

“didn’t find a sweatpants?” he asked walking to his wardrobe when you shake your head.

Handing you the comfy clothes, he informed you that he was gonna freshen up a bit.

You snuggled into his bed under the warm sheet waiting for him.

After a few minutes, Jungkook exited the bathroom finding you in his bed.

Don’t get him wrong, you often slept with him in his bed during sleepover but when you’re drunk he rather not. For his own good.

He didn’t want to make a mistake so he approached the bed, laying a soft kiss on your forehead before grabbing his pillow making you frowned.

“where you going?” you tilted your head to the side confused.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch… I wanted to.. hmm I wanted to watch a movie before sleeping.” he lied not wanting to make you sad.

“aren’t you tired? Your eyes are puffy and you keep on yawning.” you pointed out yawning yourself.

“Not.. not really.” he looked down avoiding your eyes.

He didn’t like lying to you, he started feeling guilty.

“Please sleep with me.” you said a small pout drawing its way on your lips making him sighed as you sat up.

“Princess, I can’t-“

“You don’t love me.” you started, tears bubbling in your eyes.

“hey no no! No don’t say that. That’s not true.” he rushed to the bed shaking his head.

“I love you.”

“Really?” you sniffed making him sit on the bed nodding.

“I do. I really love you.” he said reassuring you. He meant it. His heart beating way too fast for his liking. He knew he loved you, more than what you were… best friends.

“sleep with me.” you pleaded at him with doe eyes making him bite on his bottom lip, hesitating on what to do.

He finally sighed, putting his pillow on its usual place making you squeal happily.

Laying down on his back next to you, you joined him, laying down again, staring at him as you approached him.

“what?”

“you’re cute.” you breathed out.

“thanks.” he replied.

“you’re cute. I wanna kiss you.” you whispered, face getting closer to his.

Before he could say anything, you connected your lips together softly making him widen his eyes in shock.

He didn’t know why he kissed your back, the feeling of your soft lips on his making him hummed into the kiss.

No. No, he couldn’t do that.

Wake up, Jungkook! he scolded himself.

He pushed you slightly away, breathing heavily as he shake his head watching you frown, feeling disappointed at the short kiss.

“I.. I can’t do that. I’m sorry. You’re not sober y/n. That’s not right of me doing that. I don’t want to.. y’know. You’re not thinking straight. I won’t take advantage of this situation.” he explained slowly.

You just nodded, not understanding everything he just said before scooting closed to him again making him furrow his eyebrows.

“Can we at least cuddle?”

He hesitated staring at you.

“I won’t kiss you.” you pouted making him smile.

“Alright then. I trust you?” he checked again.

“I promise!” you put your hand up in the air, with a huge smile.

“good. come here.” he opened his arms as you snuggled into his warm embrace.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you murmured against his chest catching his attention as he hummed.

“But don’t tell yourself.” you added.

“What?” he laughed at your nonsense.

“so you’re telling me a secret but I can’t say it to me?” he couldn’t help but smile.

“yup!”

“I’m listening.” he replied curiously.

“I’m in love with Jungkook since I’m 10.” you smiled, hand playing with his fingers.

Jungkook was speechless as he didn’t know what to say or what to do. You really did surprised him right now.

“Do you think he feels the same?” you finally looked up at him, a bit of shyness and curiosity filling your eyes.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he just said, not replying to your question.

“yes.”

“I’m in love with you.” Jungkook said with a cute smile.

“but.. I love Jungkook.” you sat up looking down at him feeling confused.

“I don’t want to break your heart, but I love him already.” you started hands on your lap.

Jungkook wanted to burst out laughing but you were so cute.

“well, that’s ok then.” he shrugged.

“But do you want an advice?” he sat up too making you nod.

“You should tell him you love him.” he bit on his pierced lip trying to stop himself from smiling.

“Really? But I’m scared if he feels uncomfortable if he doesn’t love me the same. I don’t want to lose him.” you explained sadly.

“you won’t lose him, don’t say that. Just tell him, he’s your best friend right?” he raised an eyebrow.

“yes he is!”

“So, tell me- I mean tell him you’re in love with him when you’re sober tomorrow.”

“Sober? Am I drunk? No! I’m sober!” you slapped his arm earning another laugh from him.

“yea yea whatever. Come sleep now.” he pulled you down with him, putting the blanket over your bodies.

“good night angel.” he caressed your back gently making you hummed.

“good night.” you laid a quick peck on his cheek before resting your head on his chest.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile. His heart melting when thinking about the whole conversation. He felt the unfamiliar butterflies in the pit of his stomach, it felt unreal for him.

He slept good that night, feeling excited to wake up the next morning.

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lovejongseob · 1 month ago

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Jongseob x Stoner reader hcs

Jongseob would spend a few nights awake, wondering why he felt such a specific attraction to smoking or doing light drugs. He gives up on putting it into words, but the taboo aspect of it just causes his adrenaline to rush and makes everything feel so much more serious or intense. The physical look of smoke swirling in the room, or whatever you were having sitting comfortably in-between your lips, are just a few things he would keep staring at.

Even if hes not smoking, he likes to be a little involved. He really can't explain it but there's just something about you looking down at him and blowing smoke onto his face. He loves helping you light stuff, especially when you're holding it in your mouth. Makes him feel super trusted. Straddle him and use one hand to caress his face or rub his head, while the other holds a slow burning blunt.

Possibly giving Jongseob his first hit ? Basically feeding it to him, holding his head back slightly to look up at you and placing whatever he was most comfortable smoking against his lips. Not the biggest fan of smoking itself, doesn't really like the burn or the coughing. Also worried about how it could affect his vocals, however, the feeling itself is something hed find comforting. Somehow had a good first 'trip' and it was almost a little scary how natural he was with it.

Obviously you didn't let him smoke thinking it'd go horribly, but it's only natural for the first time to be more uncomfortable or anxious. Usually the second time goes a little better, but with Jongseob, it almost felt like he was the stoner. He ends up really enjoying edibles and especially tinctures, but would rather stay sober than smoke most nights.

He honestly just thinks you seem so cool, and when you get high with Jongseob, that's all he can think about. He moves slowly, more relaxed, and maybe it's just your head, but he seems so much warmer. Needs skin to skin so badly, not even in a sexual way. He just loves how the textures feel together, and likes feeling your temperature against him.

If you don't want to be skin to skin or you're smoking outside, hes pulling you as close as you could be with clothes still on. Loves resting his face in the middle of your thighs while you play with his hair. Although this is something he jumps up to do while sober as well , he is more prone to falling asleep, and possibly drooling a little on you like this.

Most of the time, when you're the only one high, a lot wouldn't be too different from you both just being sober. He acts pretty much the same, only getting more nurturing when he sees you a little too high or stressed. Finds everything you do adorable, and lets himself speak his more personal and intimate thoughts a bit more freely.

Writing the Soul and Theo requests as soon as possible, just felt like I should slip in some more Jongseob content before I do !!Thank you for reading 💞 Im actually so tired while writing and proof reading this im so sorry 😭 i feel like I'm forgetting something

#jongseob x reader #p1h x reader #kpop x reader #p1harmony fanfic #p1harmony x reader #piwon x reader #jongseob fanfic #p1h fanfic #piwon fanfic #kpop fanfic

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months ago

Note

Hi Miss Raven!! Idk if u have done this already but I've just seen the Masquerade event (I'm sorta a new player and it seemed interesting) and I would really like to hear ur opinion and analysis on Rollo!!

Welcome to the Twst rabbit hole, new player~!

asfkafdivfeetog8qetapafs YOU'VE AWOKEN THE BEAST NOW... I WILL NEVER SHUT UP aBoUT GLORIOSU MASQUERADE AND ROLLO mY BELOVED... 🤡

So first of all, I think it's important to bring up that when this event was first announced in JP, there was outcry from English speaking Twst fans. Numerous fans, primarily concentrated in the west, claimed it was problematic for Twst to "twinkify" Frollo, a villain that is not fantastical at all, but is sinisterly close to real life bigots that use religion to justify said bigotry. People fear mongered and made claims that Twst would try to sanitize Rollo or would present him in a way that was offensive to the crimes his Disney inspiration committed. And, might I add, all of this was before ANY of the event story was released--this was just upon the announcement. (If you want to read more about the controversy, I explained it in detail + shared my own thoughts about it in this post.) Today, you'll rarely find such claims floating around because the event story came out and spoke for itself. Glorious Masquerade is widely regarded as the BEST written event Twisted Wonderland has ever put out, even including 5 years' worth of content out on the JP server. No other event story has topped it in quality--and that's a sentiment that I personally agree with. I honestly don't know if Twst ever will top GloMasq. That's how strong the writing is.

As for my opinion on Rollo! I consider him one of my favorite characters due to his complex character writing and internal conflict (and honestly, I gotta appreciate his grind as a hater). To repeat what I've said in an older post: [I love how unpleasant and dedicated to his goals he is.] He stands out from the crowd thanks to his very blatant disdain for Malleus and acts in some of the most unhinged, overdramatic ways I can fathom (LIKE THAT STUPID TRAP DOOR PART… OR WHEN HE TRIED TO GO “SIKE” ON MALLEUS AND STRIKE HIM WHEN HIS GUARD IS DOWN). It’s the perfect balance of serious villain while also being so serious he almost comes off as desperate and pathetic. I also relate to his neurotic behavior. and conservative manner of dress. I talk more at length about my thoughts on Rollo here, though even that post doesn't fully encapsulate all I could discuss about him. I could go on and on about the dark implications of his unique magic, or how Rollo and Idia are mirrors of each other and sobering reminder of what can happen to someone that turns their grief into fuel to blame the world for his sorrow, or how the consequences Rollo faced at the end of the event were so fitting for his particular character, or the validation I feel that someone finally calls out Malleus for his potential to be a monster. IN FACT, I HAVE. And I have also gushed about his SSR here!! There's just so much interesting stuff to explore with him and his fucked up psyche.

#disney twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #glorious masquerade spoilers #notes from the writing raven #question #Frollo #Idia Shroud #Malleus Draconia #Rollo rot

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tangylemonade · 1 year ago

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Family

Pt 2 of No One Else

Jeonghan x afab reader

18+ MINORS DNI (istg 🫵🏾 ಠ_ಠ if I catch you)

Word count: 11.4k

꧁ ☂︎(angst) & ⚠︎(smut) w/ a pinch of ☁︎(fluff) ꧂

🍋’s Queries: Did this fic make you think of a song when you were reading it?

WARNINGS: unprotected sex (don't forget the casing before you stuff your sausage), cursing, mentions/descriptions of abuse/violence, Mafia au, mentions/descriptions of injuries. Jeonghan smokes a bit, talks about having killed someone. Please let me know if I missed anything.

“A liability!” Said Jeonghan’s father, glaring at him as he spoke. “If you are willing to jeopardize a mission then it’s a liability.”

“Everything went well, Father. There was no other way than to kill her.” Jeonghan responded. Forcing himself to remain calm knowing that getting angry would be of no benefit.

He slammed his fist on the table and stood up from his chair, sending it rolling hard into the wall.

“A liability Jeonghan. You deal with it or I do.” He walked to the door.

“Don’t you dare.” Jeonghan said. His voice was serious and cold. It scared him when he heard it.

His father turned around sharply; his hand raised in an angry fist. “Is that a threat boy?”

Without so much as a flinch Jeonghan stared at his fathers angry eyes. Suddenly his father chuckled, clapping Jeonghan on the shoulder.

In his fathers old age he’d become slower and weaker. Jeonghan noticed how the old man's touch didn’t leave behind as much fear. Jeonghan held his place, glaring at his father and maintaining his icy stare.

“Do what you will, boy. But if you ever go against my orders again… you too will be considered a liability. And I never leave loose strings Jeonghan. You know that best of all.”

Jeonghan's father walked out of the room leaving Jeonghan all alone in the dimly lit lavish office to massage his aching shoulder.

His fathers' words echoed heavily in Jeonghan’s mind as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

The woman his father claimed to love. The woman who carried his unborn child. It didn’t matter that what she did was to save her life, and the life of his son. She was a liability, so he dealt with it leaving their prematurely born baby crying and hungry until the maid took pity.

Jeonghan was raised by the head housemaid Kim, living in the servant quarters and only being allowed in the main house to attend lessons and training. He spent his adolescents clawing his way through insults and blows just to prove himself. It wasn't until he was older that he realized he would never be enough and trying so hard wasn't worth it, but by then the damage was done.

He had a bruised ego and a misplaced heart that struggled to tell the difference between right and wrong.

But in this very moment he was certain about one thing. No one was going to lay a finger on you, not even his father.

His clenched fist left cuts in his palms until the sharp pain sobered him. Without another moment wasted Jeonghan left that dreadful house, his heart only steadying once he was in his car driving towards…you.

☾

“Why do you think Boss sent us together?”

Jeonghan paced in boredom smoking his second cigarette as his slightly younger brother Jisoo worked on opening the newest shipments crate.

“He didn’t. I lied.” Jisoo smiled at him, charming as ever. “Why do you still call him boss? You’ve known he was your father for-like-ever.”

Jeonghan angrily stuffed his hands in his pockets. “He’s no father of mine… wait what do you mean you lied?”

Jeonghan kicked at his brother, but he dodged it without even looking and continued his work.

His brother stopped fiddling with the crate he was opening so he could shrug. “I just didn’t want to go alone.”

He then turned to Jeonghan so he could speak to him directly. “I don’t know why you insist on saying that.”

“What? Why wouldn’t I?" asked Jeonghan. He was starting to feel annoyed with his brother's lack of understanding. “You and I both know he only told me because DongYul is a failure.”

His brother’s expression turned serious as he placed his hands on Jeonghan's shoulders. “Don’t speak about DongYul like that. Besides, it does us no good turning against each other. And listen, Father made sure you got the same experiences as us, only now you understand why. Shit man you probably had it better.”

“How so?”

“At least you have Kim. Our mother didn’t even tell us before she left.”

“Well my mother is dead. My *father* killed her, remember?”

Jisoo shrugged.

Jeonghan looked down. Jeonghan wondered if Jisoo could see the glistening in his eyes as they began to sting. He shrugged off his brother's arm in hopes of shaking off the emotions as well.

“Hey, aren’t you glad that finding out about your lineage included the perks of two awesome brothers?” Jisoo said, changing the subject.

Jeonghan scoffed. “DongYul was a piece of shit, Jisoo.”

“He never got over the fact that your mom was the mistress that made our mom leave. He's actually really sensitive, you know?

“Oh Jisoo The Great Defender of The Sad and Sensitive.” Jeonghan said with a condescending bow.

Jeonghan’s experience with his older brother had been nothing short of cruel. If Jisoo hadn’t kept the peace Jeonghan and DongYul probably would’ve killed each other.

Jisoo rolled his eyes at his brother’s dramatics. “I know he wasn’t the kindest to you, but you have no idea what he’s been through.” Jisoo continued. “The things he’s had to do.”

But Jeonghan did know. He knew of the burdens that came with being the eldest son of Yoon DongHan. He was always nearby when Kim would tend to his brothers after training, missions, and… disciplines. He would hear their horror stories as they recounted in jest to distract from the pain, Dong-Yul drinking alcohol to numb it before he was even 15. He learned before anything else that their father tolerated little.

Mr. Yoon would decorate Jeonghan and his brother for even the slightest incompetence. He would always say “You either learn here or you learn out there, and the world is not as forgiving as I am.”

Their father was right. At least he would stop before they died.

DongYul being the eldest was hit with the brunt of responsibility. He was constantly busy with transactions and helping with the many businesses the Yoon family owned. DongHan only recently split the workload between his sons, not out of compassion but rather for efficiency.

But did it really excuse the way DongYul treated him? Did it matter that his brother was in far more pain than he would put Jeonghan through? And most of all… why did Jeonghan miss him?

•••

When Jeonghan opened the door to the cabin a fragrant aroma filled his nose. Looking around he discovered the source, a pot simmering on the stove.

He turned around to find you reclined on the living room couch, your chest rising and falling with each soft breathing you took.

Jeonghan sighed, his hands scrubbing his eyes as if that could rub some sense into his thoughts.

Taking another look, he picked up a blanket from nearby to drape over you. He hesitated as his eyes took you in up close. There you laid in only panties and one of his white tees that were practically see through. It was hot in the living room and the thin sheen of sweat on your visible skin made it seem as if you were glowing under the warm light.

Smiling, he discarded the blanket and went to turn on the fan.

The noise of the appliance was enough to startle you awake causing you to slide right off of the couch. But before you could hit the ground Jeonghan reached out, catching your body in his arms.

“Careful now.” Jeonghan's voice fell soft against the pounding of your heart in your ear drum.

“Sorry.” You mumbled as you fixed your (his) shirt and sat up straight. “When did you get here?”

You had been in Jeonghan's little secret cabin for a couple weeks now, so things naturally began to slip into a rhythm. Jeonghan would visit in the daytime a few times a week and never stayed the night so you couldn't help but wonder what he was doing here.

“Just now.” He said standing and heading upstairs.

Scurrying to the kitchen you turned off your stew and then walked upstairs after him.

“Are you staying long? I made dinner and it just finished so I'm about to eat.”

His room door was open, so you stepped in while you continued to speak. “Good thing you showed up or I might have burned the house down. I knew that book was too boring, but I wanted to give it a fair shot, you know? Next thing I knew I was…sleeping...” Your voice disappeared as your eyes laid on Joenghans naked form.

He stood there relaxed and unbothered by your intrusion only raising an eyebrow before continuing to undo the clasp of his watch.

You quickly turned around in shame. Before you could slip out of the room, he called your name, and you froze in place.

“Oh- the door was open- I'll just...” You started to walk out again when Jeonghan called out.

“Wait. Help me with this.”

Assuming he meant the watch he was just struggling with you answered quickly. “Of course.’

Trying your best to angle your eyes upwards you turned around and began walking towards him only to be stopped in your tracks once again.

His watch laid neatly on his bed and his hands were busy stroking the semi-hard on he was now sporting.

“If you’re gonna walk around like that you could at least have the decency to help me out.”

You looked down at your thin clothes and wanted to perish on the spot.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight. If you called, I would’ve put on more clothes.”

“Well then, my apologies.” Jeonghan said incredulously in that nonchalant way that you recently discovered made you see red.

“What do you think I-“

“Follow me.” He said firmly, cutting you off and walking towards his bathroom.

You stood there defiantly. What did he think this was? Did he really think you were just going to listen to him? You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. He is just so…so…. ugh. Does he really think you were just at his beck and call?

But weren't you?

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. And it wasn’t the first time you’d helped him out.

Your voice of reason screamed at you as you walked into the bathroom.

The shower was already on, and you could hear a soft grunt coming from behind the curtain.

Your heart pounded through your body as you once again vacillated between your choices.

‘Fuck it.’

You quickly strip before carefully sliding the curtain over. His back was turned to you, his head under the shower as he slowly pumped into his fist. If he noticed, you entering the shower he made no show.

Standing closer to him one arm wrapped around him, resting on his stomach, while the other steadied the hand that he stroked himself with. He relinquished his cock to you, his tired body instantly leaning back into your embrace. His eyes shut contently as your soft hands enveloped him.

Pumping faster and faster you pleasured him until his hot seed coated your hand and the shower wall. Still leaning against he let both of your arms wrap around him, one hand resting on his heart and feeling the slowing rise and fall of his chest as the water splattered against your bodies.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly. You wanted to savor the moment, but his abnormal behavior was making you worried. Normally after he’d finish, he would simply clean up and leave. But today he didn't move, his heart still pounding.

Jeonghan didn’t respond. Instead, he turned around pressing you against the shower wall, his knee pressing into your swollen core before moving over to spread your legs.

His calloused fingers wrapped around your neck with gentle pressure, his lips hungry attaching to yours. The kiss was fiery and urgent, his teeth pulling your bottom lip and drawing blood that you tasted on his tongue as he slid it into your mouth. His free hand wandered your body squeezing and kneading your flesh with gusto. The wayward hand eventually found purchase on your hips, holding them in place as he unceremoniously pushed inside of you.

Your vision blurred as the pain stretched into pleasure, his size pushing deeper into your hot and wet cunt.

Jeonghan groaned into your neck in between sucking harsh bruises into the sensitive skin. Without giving you any more time to adjust he thrusted again, this time coaxing tears from your eyes and his name moaned from your swollen lips. His strokes were quick and angry, but you could feel the tension in his body begin to dissolve. With now slower movements you were able to match his pace with the rocking of your hips. It wasn't long before you were both falling apart, his arms holding you in place as your exhaustion took over.

After showering off and helping you to do the same, Jeonghan pulled you to his bed. You didn't let your bafflement stop you from laying with him and allowing him to rest on your bosom, his arms holding you close.

“Jeonghan…” You softly ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp the way you always did after at some point realizing it always relaxed him.

He softly shushed you, his voice thick with exhaustion. “This is nice.”

He was right. This was so nice it hurt. You knew it wouldn't last. A relationship without honesty is destined to fail.

Nevertheless, you selfishly savored the moment, holding him tighter as if it would keep him with you forever. But Jeonghan was gone when you woke up.

Getting up you brushed your teeth and examined your skin in the mirror. The bruises that were kissed into your skin last night and the previous nights now took the place of your old ones that were filled with the haunting memories of your capture. You briefly wondered if that had been his intention before shaking the thought away and getting dressed.

Downstairs there was a simple breakfast on the table for you of toast and eggs. You poured yourself some water, ignoring the food and going back to bed.

☾

Laying in his bed Jeonghan looked at your soft and warm bare body sleeping soundly beside him. His fingers gingerly traced your skin as he breathed in your heavenly scent. Although his heart knew you were safe besides him, his mind still tormented him with the images of you the night he found you. Paranoia forced him to watch over you even though he knew you were safe and sound.

He had killed Stella himself. It wasn’t the first life he’d taken. But it was the first he’d wanted to take. His first kill that was not an order.

When he saw her crouching over your bloodied body… the wicked smile on Stellas face when she saw Jeonghan was the last moment before... he snapped.

The memory of it all played through his mind time and again. He was supposed to bring her in, there were still assets to recover and accomplices only she knew the location of now gone forever.

But Jeonghan didn't hesitate until he was holding you in his arms again.

He did it for you. He did it for…Dongyul.

His eldest brother had been his biggest enemy growing up. But now…it all felt so insignificant.

DongYul who craved compassion his whole life was met with the harsh glares of his father and even harsher blows. Like a moth to flame Stella was intoxicating for him. Despite Jisoo's pleading words he would run to her, taking comfort in the lies she wrapped him in.

Only a few months ago he’d busted into Jeonghan's room, rage burning in his blown-out pupils. But Jeonghan didn't fear him anymore. He stood up looking his brother who no longer towered over him in the eyes.

“Get out.” Jeonghan said calmly and was met with rough hands on his collar.

DongYul reeked of alcohol and his tank top allowed Jeonghan a view of the needle marks that decorated his skin.

“DongYul! What is this!” Jeonghan grabbed his brother's arm, ignoring his brother's aggression. “What were you thinking?”

His concern for his brother surprised them both.

“Save it!” Dongyul growled. He shrugged Jeonghan’s hand from his arm before letting go of his collar.

“What do you even know? You just lay around while everything gets handed to you.’ His voice was bitter and angry.

He pushed Jeonghan hard and Jeonghan stumbled back, banging his head on the wall. Securing his footing, he prepared himself for a fight, but DongYul only sat on the bed, burying his face in his hands.

“You won Jeonghan… you can have it all…but I need her.” His brother's voice was slow and slurred now.

“What do you mean?” Jeonghan asked as you rubbed his now pounding head.

“Kim…Jisoo…S-Stella…” his brother mumbled as he continued to sink as if he weighed a ton.

“…DongYul” Jeonghan began as he walked towards his distressed family member. “I'll call Jisoo… we can help you whatever it is.”

His brother stood up suddenly on shaky legs. “It's too late. I screwed up big time.’

He’d never seen his brother who didn't even flinch while getting stitched up this…broken.

It petrified him.

“Sit here, I'll go get you some water and find Jisoo. Please…we can fix this.”

Jeonghan carefully sat his brother down. Taking his compliance as an agreement Jeonghan rushed to get their youngest brother and grabbed a bottle of water before hurrying back.

But Dongyul was gone.

Unable to look inside his casket, that night was the last time Jeonghan saw his older brother. A raid on what was meant to be a routine weapon exchange ended as a bloody massacre that killed almost ½ of father's men…including his eldest son.

On the night of his eldest son's funeral Mr. Yoon called Jeonghan into his office.

“It’s about time you start taking on more responsibilities as a member of this family. Not just trades, there is more important business for you to attend to.”

Jeonghan did even know why he was shocked; this was exactly like with father. But it still made bile rise in his throat.

“The soil hast even settled yet…’

“As my eldest son I expect you to know your place.’ He cut Jeonghan off without even looking up from the work at his desk. “Don’t become foolish like your brother. And don’t be a coward like your wench of a mother.” He said before waving his hand, ending the conversation and sending Jeonghan away.

“Don't speak about my mother like that!” Jeonghan said without control. Normally he wouldn’t speak back after being dismissed.

His fathers glare wasn't enough to make him back down.

“Do not overstep, boy. I suggest you learn your place before you end up learning it like her. I told you already, I clean up my own messes.”

He looked up at Jeonghan with dark eyes that shone like the devils in the dim light of his office.

Jeonghan used all of his strength to calmly walk away. He shut the door before racing to his bathroom and hurling in the toilet. Kim, who had heard of his meeting with his father from Jisoo, came to check on him.

“Oh dear.” She said when she found him leaning against the bathtub.

She left and returned with tea before sitting next to jeonghan on the bathroom floor where he layed, tears angrily falling from his eyes.

“Did you know?” He asked quietly.

“Know what darling?” Her soothing voice did nothing to calm the turmoil Jeonghan was feeling.

Jeonghan looked at her with tearful eyes. “Did you know that that monster killed my mother?”

Kim could only nod.

She wiped his tears as her own began to fall. “I watched it happen...”

Jeonghan sat up and looked at the woman who his heart now broke for.

Kim had raised him as her own after having a stillbirth only a week before his birth. To her it was meant to be. When the other maids all cowered in fear she stepped up taking the shivering baby in her arms and wrapping him tightly in her sweater. Her body that had been preparing to be a mother fell right into step as she fed and held him close while she worked.

Although that period in her life was hard to look back on, she still felt Jeonghan should know so she held his hand as she spoke.

“Your father would have done anything for your mother. He was crazy for her, but he wasn’t careful. It didn’t take long before one of his many enemies had her. She was young, pregnant, and… so scared. Then one day she was back. She said they got lazy, that she had escaped while they were distracted.’

Kim paused to swallow the lump in her throat.

“You don't have to tell me.” It disturbed Jeonghan to see her struggling.

Kim shook her head and continued.

“She used to always hang around smiling and chatting with the workers but she wouldn't leave her room. One night she called for me and the state she was in scared me half to death. She was all panicky and high on whatever they had given her while she was there. That night she broke down and told me that she gave them information in exchange for her freedom. She loved your father but she didn’t fear him…and that was her downfall. Then I found out that she wasn't the one who called for me. When she wouldn't talk to him, he knew she would talk to me. He killed them and then he…”

Kim couldn't continue, her sobs swallowing her words. Jeonghan could only hold her as heartbroken tears spilled from her eyes.

☾

Waking up you stretched out as you always did, this time your arm knocking into something. Opening your eyes you turned over quickly to find Jeonghan laying in your bed next to you. He stirred before opening his eyes.

“You’re still here?” You asked in surprise.

“Ouch.” Jeonghan chuckled and propped himself on his elbow, looking down at you with a smile.

“No no, I didn’t mean it like that.” You said, sitting up and turning towards him. “It’s just that you’re normally gone by morning.”

He nodded at you but his eyes seemed distant.

“What is it?” You asked scooting closer to him.

“It’s been over a month and yet no one has come asking about you.”

“Wasn't that the point?’ you snipped back, pulling your knees to your chest and burying your head in your arms.

You felt his arm on your shoulder causing warmth to spread through you but you shrugged his hand away. You were starting to feel aggravated with him.

“What are you getting at anyway Jeonghan?”

“Well…if I kept you here forever no one would even care.”

Your eyes welled with tears as you looked at him in horror.

“What the hell is wrong with you!”

Jeonghan instantly noticed the heartbreak in your voice.

“I didn't mean it like that i-”

You stood up now, grabbing the robe that hung beside your bed and covering yourself with it.

He pulled himself to the edge of the bed and grabbed your arm.

Your view of him began to blur and your breathing came quickly. His arms were around you fast, pulling you towards him and holding you tightly.

“I promised to keep you safe.” He whispered to you.

“…This…this isn't living, Jeonghan. I’m going crazy. Trapped here as you come and go. You hardly speak to me. When I wake up, you’re gone and then I'm left here feeling used and …all alone.”

He sat there quietly holding on to you.

Feeling dejected from his lack of response you started to free yourself from his grasp. “Never mind.”

“At 7 years old I’d gotten my first broken bone. Training, my father called it. Preparation. My leg still hurts when it rains.”

You stilled in his arms as you listened.

“He used to make us spar. The winner was whoever was still conscious. Loser was locked in the penalty box without food and water for a few days. He chose the number in pair with your level of failure.”

The way he spoke was so indifferent as if he was simply recounting tales of a grocery store run instead of years of abuse. Turning on his lap so that you were facing him you held his face in your hands.

“Then run away with me. We don't have to live like this.” Your face was inches from his as your lips hovered together. Holding your hand he stroked your knuckles. “We can leave this all behind and never look back.”

You felt Jeonghan’s lips smiling against your cheek where he kissed your hot tears away.

“Don’t be so naive.”

His words cut through you like daggers.

You pulled back, searching his soft eyes for answers that they never gave.

“I told you all of that so you can understand how I was molded. So you can understand that all reality with me in it will never be peaceful.”

“Jeonghan-“ your voice broke.

“Have you ever taken a life before?” He asked so quietly you nearly missed it.

“N-no.”

“You can never understand how silly you sound at this moment.”

Frowning at him you hit his chest. “Don't you patronize me.”

He grabbed your wrist so tightly it hurt a bit.

“Let me go Yoon Jeonghan.”

His gaze lost its softness as it pierced through you, but you didn’t back down.

“You wouldn’t last a day in my world.” He said, his voice bitter and harsh.

Pulling your wrist from his grip you fixed him with your own icy gaze.

You began to move again but this time his hand on your hips secured you against him.

You frowned at him. “I said let me go!”

“Stay.” He said softly. “I need you to stay.”

You felt the fight deflating from you, only exhaustion remained. “I’m suffocating, Jeonghan.”

He rubbed circles into your hips, his voice soft and low. “Without you it's all unbearable.”

How did he know just what to say to you? Your heart was racing and your skin felt clammy and hot.

No! You can’t live like this. This isn't living.

But were you okay with never seeing him again? Never feeling his warmth? Never tasting him?

Holding your face, Jeonghan roughly pulled you closer to him, placing a hot kiss on your lips. He was fiery and addicting. Your answer was clear.

“No.” You whispered, gently pulling away although it pained you. “I won’t be your pet, I can't.”

This time when you went to stand, he didn't hold on, his arms fell to his sides dejected.

Backing away from him slowly you turned around and began picking your clothes off the floor.

“Either you take me home or I find my own way.”

Jeonghan didn’t call out for you or plead. He only nodded before walking out. After a few minutes you heard his car start.

Nothing here was yours so you quickly dressed before leaving.

☾

“Get your ass up!” Jisoo yelled, kicking Jeonghan in his side. We have to go check the shipment today and Father is starting to notice that you haven’t been showing up to meetings.”

Jeonghan groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head. His brother hit him again and ripped the blanket away.

“I’m serious dude. And I still need to vet a new treasurer because the last one was skimming whom I had to handle last night BY MYSELF. I’m tired of covering for your ass.” He walked out screaming “I swear to you Jeonghan I will come back with a taser.” Before shutting the door behind him.

As much as Jeonghan wanted to punch his brother he knew he was right, so he begrudgingly got up and got ready. Walking into the kitchen he stopped short when he saw his father seated at the kitchen table.

“You still follow around Kim like a blind puppy.”

Jeonghan angrily pulled out a chair, sitting down across from his father.

“I live here, remember.” He grumbled as he poured himself a cup of tea. His appetite was gone at the sight of his father.

“Yes, well I expect you in the main house by the end of the week.”

“What! Why?” Jeaonghan was completely caught off guard.

“It’s time you stop lazing around and get to some real work.” With that his father stood and headed out the door showing that his word was final.

Jeonghan slammed his cup down, breaking off the handle and spilling tea on the side of the table.

“Oh my.” Kim said, suddenly in the kitchen and rushing to clean the spill. “And I really liked that set.”

Jeaonghans mood relaxed as he looked at Kim's somber expression.

He knew she had hundreds of teas sets all around this house, all which she called her favorite.

He gently held her hand and she leaned down into a hug.

A quiet sob shook her shoulders.

Jeonghan knew as well that his world would change completely once, he left. Even in Kim’s warm embrace he still felt the weight of his father's expectations on his already heavy soul.

☾

Trying to get back into the swing of life proved to be as difficult as you’d expected. Eventually you got the strength to go and collect your things from work. You realized that it wouldn't be appropriate to ignore any more of your bosses' calls, the final one saying that your things were going to be disposed of if you didn’t come for them, by the end of the week.

There was nothing important there, but you went and got it anyway. You tried to smile and ignore the concerned questions and glances of your ex-coworkers, but they still bothered you. If only they knew how right, they were to worry for you.

You spent the rest of the day outside just roaming around aimlessly. Your house felt so small and lonely. Once the sun had set you forced yourself to go back home.

Walking into your house you placed your box of your things on the counter instantly reaching for the bottle of wine you’d left there this morning. You felt around but when you still couldn’t find it you sighed and turned on the light.

Frozen in terror your brain rushed through all of its possible escape options as your eyes looked to the stranger that was sitting at your dining room table sipping your wine.

“You know I’ve never drank the cheap stuff before, but this really isn't half bad.”

He took another swig before flashing you a charming and all too familiar smile.

“Are you Jeonghan’s brother?” You asked, your hands reaching for your keys. You remembered Jeonghan mentioning his siblings, but you couldn't remember their names.

“Astute.” He said without a genuine smile. “But not smart if you think those keys will do anything other than piss me off.”

The man stood up and walked towards you, stopping before he got too close. “My name is Jisoo. I come in peace.” He showed you his empty hands before putting up two peace signs and waving them at you with a goofy smile.

“I’m here to offer you a job opportunity.”

........

"Okay."

"Seriously?" Jisoo asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

It only took a moment after he had explained what it was that he was offering you before you agreed. you weren't entirely sure why it felt so easy to say yes but you didn't question it at al.

You knew that you were absolutely crazy to say yes to Jisoo. The new treasurer for one of the biggest gangs on this side of the country.

“It will require you to move.” Jisoo said, still a little surprised by how quickly you agreed.

“Sure. no problem.”

Jisoo only shrugged before scribbling his information on a napkin.

“Call me when you’re ready.”

With that he downed the last of the wine, gave you a wink, and walked out of the door leaving you drowning in your thoughts.

☾

You periodically dried your hands on your jeans while clutching onto your duffel bag.

All that you'd packed fit only in one duffle bag. Has your life really been that small?

“You’re a pretty one.” Jisoo said, looking at you instead of the road.

You returned his comment with a frown. “Pardon?”

“You know I didn't really get a good look at you before because your house was all dark and depressing but now, I can see why Jeonghan has been all screwed up.”

Jeonghan hadn’t even so much as tried to contact you since your last interaction. Hearing Jisoo's words made your heart constrict. Was Jeonghan feeling just as shitty as you were?

The Yoon house was more like that of a palace. Now parked, you tilted your head to see the top of the huge building through the car window.

“Beautiful isn’t it.” Jisoo said, stepping out of the car. “You’ll be working in the main house, but your room will be in the servants' quarters…which is this way.” He grabbed your bag from you and walked away leaving you no choice but to follow him.

“Don’t worry, it’s also very nice.”

He was right. Although the servant quarters were significantly smaller than the main house it was still beautiful and grand.

You followed him inside and he led you past the kitchen and into a spacious and elegantly furnished bedroom.

“You’re free to use anything in this house. This is your room. I’ll call you to the main house when you have business to attend. For now, just get settled and comfortable.”

You looked around the room taking in the beautiful layout when a familiar small frame peaked into the room with a warm smile.

“Oh, and this is the head maid-“

“Kim!” You said excitedly. You ran to her and gave her a hug, her arms wrapping around you warm and welcoming like soup for your tired soul.

Even though you only saw her a few times she already felt so familiar, causing a breath of relief to wash over your anxious mind.

“I see you've met already.” Jisoo said but was ignored as you and Kim caught up with each other. “Well since you’re in good hands I’m gonna head out ... .aaand I’m invisible.”

Jisoo shook his head and walked out of the room.

“Oh darling, it's lovely to have you here.” Kim said holding your hands. “Now I can have someone to talk to.”

“Aren’t there other house workers?”

“Oh, there are plenty. But none of them are like you” She winked at you with a smile that you couldn’t help returning. “These workers come and go so often I stopped bothering with anything more than pleasantries. But I have a feeling that you and I darling are going to be great friends.”

It felt nice to know there was someone around that you felt you could trust and rely on.

•••

By now you had been in and out of the house plenty of times as you get acquainted with their records and logbooks that you needed for work. And yet… you still had not run into Jeonghan. Was he avoiding you?

You rolled your eyes as you packed your things and headed back to the servants' quarters. What would you even say if you saw him?

It was late and you had been working all day trying to sort the mess of files Jisoo had dumped on you. The last guy really did a number on them and Jisoo wanted it fixed as quickly as possible. You wondered what happened to the last treasurer but ultimately decided to shake off the thought. ‘Best not to over think.’ You told yourself.

After a long hot shower, you still weren’t in the least bit sleepy. Insomnia was wrapping its cold fingers around you and it was starting to become more and more exhausting. With a sigh you put on your pajamas and made your way to the kitchen to brew yourself some tea.

You brought some files back with you to sort and review while you sat down and sipped on your tea. Preoccupied and completely engrossed in your work, you didn't notice the gentle sound of the door opening and shutting.

“Kim?” A voice softly whispers as a familiar frame creeped into the dim kitchen.

You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Turning around quickly your eyes landed on the slender man that stood before you. Even after months apart your treacherous heart remembered the dance it did just for him.

“Y/n!” Jeonghan looked truly shocked, his eyes wide with confusion.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. “Jisoo said you live in the main house.”

“I was looking for- wait shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

You shrugged. “I live here. I’ve been working as your treasurer for a bit now. Didn’t Jisoo tell you?”

“No… he didn’t.” Jeonghan said a little distractedly. “You shouldn't read in such dim lighting.”

He went and turned on a light that was on the side of a cabinet, filling the room with a bright glow.

“So that’s where that was. I couldn't find it and just gave up.”

“You could've asked someone.”

“Everyone is sleeping.”

You both fell into an awkward silence as you looked everywhere but at each other.

“Uhm…Do you want some tea?” You asked. You smiled timidly and you saw his body relax a bit.

Jeonghan carefully pulled out and sat in the chair right next to you.

You got up, grabbed another cup and poured Jeonghan a cup of tea, placing it in front of him.

In the time it took you he was already flipping through your papers only taking a pause to taste the tea.

“This is good.” He said, taking another sip. “Where’d you buy it?”

“Thank you, I mixed it myself. Please don’t mess with my papers.” You quickly gathered up your papers from where he had moved them in front of him. “I’m trying to sort them and you’re making a mess.”

You reached for the papers in his hand, but he smiled and pulled them out of your reach.

“That’s really mature Jeong- '' as you reached for the paper you slipped and fell into him, his arm wrapping securely around you and holding you close.

With Jeonghan's close proximity all but your beating heart had abandoned you. In a stupor you allowed his warm lips to wrap around yours, tasting as sweet as you remembered them.

You pulled away with hot tears suddenly spilling from your eyes.

“Absolutely not Yoon Jeonghan.” you stood and backed away from him, his face blurring in your eyes.

“Y/N…”

The way his voice called your name was deadly for your health.

“I told you already. I’m not your plaything.”

He stood up now, reaching out for your hand but you swiftly pulled away as you took another step back.

“I hate feeling used. My whole life… never again.”

He walked closer and his darling scent filled your nose. Green tea and cigarettes… and liquor. You hadn’t taken notice before but… had he been drinking?

He reached out again but this time you stayed still, allowing his calloused hands to softly hold your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks and swiping away your tears.

In the next moment you were watching his back as he left you feeling confused and …tired. You cleaned up and went to bed falling asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow.

•••

“Jisoo you piece of shit.”

“Good morning to you too. I'm a little busy right now.”

He gestured to the moaning mound underneath his covers, no doubt his flavor of the week.

“The new treasurer. Jisoo what the fuck?!”

“Oh, so you’ve met her.”’ He placed his hand on the mound, stopping the movement as he looked up at Jeonghan’s angry face. “I thought I told her not to come over without telling me?”

“I ran into her last night when I went to check on Kim.”

“Good god, Father is right, you do follow her around like a puppy.”

“Don’t you ever quote that dick head to me again.” Jeonghan’s voice came low and serious.

“Okay okay calm down. What happened to you? You used to be so chill? Listen, you know Father hates distractions. Don’t give him a reason to think Kim or Y/N are, okay?”

Jeonghan felt true horror at what Jisoo was insinuating. He knew that his brother was right.

Jeonghan leaned against the wall feeling deflated and dizzy with anger.

“How did you find Y/N anyway?”

“Seriously?” Jisoo asked sarcastically. “Super sexy by the way.”

He followed the last sentence with a smirk that was met with Jeonghan’s furious glare.

“Oh relax. You’re no fun anymore.” Jisoo said dismissing Jeonghan’s attitude with the wave of his hand. “Listen Jeonghan, brother to brother, you need to get your shit together before Father does it for you. I can assure you he won't be as careful about it as you. Now get the fuck out of my room.”

Jeonghan left without another word, the moaning starting up again before he closed the door. He knew his brother was right, it was time to pull his head out of the sand.

☾

In a job like Jeonghan’s there was always something that needed to get done. The bigger you are the less people think you notice. Unfortunately for them you don’t grow from the lack of concern, there are eyes everywhere.

As Mr. Yoon got older his lifestyle allowed him more youth than his peers but alas age was catching up on him. That meant the Jeonghan and Jisoo's responsibilities were increasing 10-fold.

In a family like the Yoon's where they didn’t take the easy way out through human and drug trafficking business management was important. Jeonghan's job tonight was dealing with an overzealous CEO of one of their liquor companies who was brave enough to start a slush fund.

Thanks to their new and ever so clever treasurer a lot of those kinds of parasites were coming to the surface.

Jeonghan wished the man had just chosen the easy way but irrational and crazy was always the theme. Father always told them that if someone started a fight it didn't end until one of you was dead. Even though the ass hole had gotten a few good slices in, Jeonghan had been the victor.

Coming home tired and exhausted he just wanted to shower and… see you. Wracking his brain for an excuse to visit the servant quarters he pulled off his bloodied shirt and headed to his room. A light peaked through the cracks of a study room door and Jeonghan figured Jisoo was working late. As he walked closer to check in on his brother when a familiar laugh filled his ears.

Suddenly high alert he crept closer, his back to the wall as he listened in.

“No no, those don’t go over there Jisoo!” Your voice came like honey to his ears. “You’re not helping.” There was that laugh again cutting through Jeonghan more than the tussle earlier that night had.

“Whatever you say Madam. I’ll just sit here and watch you work your magic.” Jisoo’s voice was coated in honey as he laughed along with Y/N.

‘What’s even so funny?’ Jeonghan grumbled quietly to himself. He took a deep breath before opening the door and casually strolling into the room. He saw red when his eye landed on you sitting crossed legged on the table in a tank top and shorts as Jisoo leaned over your shoulder reading the paper in your hands.

Jisoo looked up first, a smile playing on his lips when he spoke. “Well, you look like shit.”

You looked up, your face crumbling with concern the moment your eyes met with Jeonghan’s battered body.

He had a bloody shirt in his hands and fresh cuts on his slim frame, the biggest of which was still bleeding through the bandage that was haphazardly wrapped around it.

“Thanks.” Jeonghan said sarcastically to his brother before throwing the shirt at him and sitting down on the chair near the wall. His hair fell into his face but the shadows draping around him couldn’t hide the bags under his sleepy eyes. Jisoo blocked the shirt, and it fell with a wet thud to the floor.

“Gross! This isn't all your blood, is it?” Jisoo wined, wiping his hands on his pants.

The urge to brush his silky hair aside and hold him to your chest was so all-consuming it made you feel nauseous.

“You could’ve helped me, you know.” Jeonghan continued to his brother, completely ignoring you.

“Serves you right after the shit I did for you.” Jisoo retorted, still wiping his hands in disgust before smiling smugly at Jeonghan. “Besides I knew you could handle it, and I had to keep my new friend company.”

He placed his hand on your shoulder, giving a squeeze and smiling down at you.

“Eww, don’t touch me with those hands!” You laughed and brushed Jisoo's hand away before quickly looking at Jeonghan and catching something flicker across his face that left as quickly as it came.

“Well.” Jeonghan said standing and walking to the door. “Don’t work too hard, I’m going to bed.”

The moment he shut the door behind him you hopped down from the table, giving a good stretch before you began stacking your papers.

“Well, I better go before it gets too late.” You said with a shy smile as you suddenly felt awkward.

“Booo, you guys are boring.” Jisoo leaned against the table, his eyes watching you as you gathered your things. “You know there’s no point ignoring him if you're waiting around for him anyway.”

“What?” You looked up at Jisoo's' bored expression.

“Sleep with me.”

You searched his face for something to tell you he was joking, rolling your eyes in frustration when you found nothing of the sort.

“Both of you are so…so…ugh” You gave up with an exasperated sigh as you finished picking up your things.

“I'm just saying…” Jisoo began with his hands up defensively. “If you don’t want to sleep with me you must still want to sleep with him. So why are you giving each other the cold shoulder?”

“Oh my- good night, Jisoo.” Waving goodbye, you left the room in a huff.

Jisoo was crazy just like his brother. Crazy and annoyingly right. But you didn’t need Jeonghan’s handsome and extremely slutty younger brother to tell you you still wanted Jeonghan.

After a quick shower and a cup of tea you found yourself tossing and turning in bed as you thought about that man who plagued your heart.

Was he okay? Those cuts looked pretty bad. And he was still bleeding. Did he need help?

You groaned in frustration holding your pillow over your head. What even was your life?

Jeonghans shower proved difficult with open wounds. Most of the blood on his body wasn’t his so he couldn't bear another moment longer with it on his skin. Struggling to wash his hair with his sore arms proved drying as completely impossible. Only having the energy to pull on pants he flopped on the floor and leaned his head back, his damp hair leaving a wet spot on his blanket.

Drifting off he figured he had imagined the gentle rapping on his door but when it came again, he got up and took a look.

“Y/N!” He said in disbelief. “How did you find my room?

“Jisoo told me.”

You didn’t wait for him to let you in, pushing past him you hurried through the door in fear of being spotted. You carefully placed the bag of things you brought for him against the wall. “I wanted to see if you needed help.”

He was quiet for a moment, carefully letting the situation flip around in his head before speaking.

“Well…my hair is still pretty wet…”

You nodded and headed straight for his bathroom finding the blow dryer abandoned on his sink counter.

Finding an outlet near his bed you sat down before gesturing for him to come.

He silently sat between your legs with his back leaning against his bed, his head resting on your stomach.

Your thigh was soft and warm against his arm as your fingers delicately combed through his hair as the warm air blew.

Feeling completely relaxed the moment passed too quickly for Jeonghan and he found himself wishing he never replaced his broken dryer that barely worked.

He felt disappointed as you stood but you only picked up the bag you brought with you and pulled out a first aid kit and a canteen.

Walking towards him you placed the canteen on his nightstand and sat down next to him on the floor.

“These don’t look like they need stitches, but I’ll ask Kim to check in the morning. For now, I’ll clean and bandage them, okay.”

All Jeonghan could do was nod as your soft fingers tenderly cared for him. You finished quickly and once again he found himself feeling ridiculous as he wished that he’d taken a few more cuts in the fight.

You sitting so close to him left him feeling incomprehensibly ravenous.

Your body felt a shift in the atmosphere, so you quickly stood up and scurried to the door. You feared your own treacherous desires in his presence.

“There is some porridge in there for you. I can’t promise it’s good, but it is still warm.” With that you grabbed your bag and slipped through the door shutting it silently behind you.

You came and left like a breeze leaving Jeonghan to wonder if maybe he’d imagined it all. But the still warm container of porridge on his nightstand and that sweet scent of you that lingered in the air told him that it had all been true.

Each bite made him more tired than the next, but he forced his eyes open as he finished the savory meal you prepared for him. Feeling peacefully warm he slipped under his covers and fell fast asleep.

You quietly cleaned up the kitchen, apologizing to the workers who were just getting in for the noise before going upstairs to your room and slipping into bed. Flashes of earlier flooded your thoughts but it wasn’t long before you were fast asleep.

☾

The ringing blare of the main house sirens alerted you awake. Quickly jumping from your bed, you ran from your room only to be swept in the crowd of staff that were rushing from the house. Once outside and still in a daze you stopped in your tracks and looked up in terror.

People crashed into you as you watched the huge dark gray bellow of smoke that rose from the main house. An entire wing was engulfed in bright orange flames. Someone knocked into you hard causing you to fall to the ground. The wet earth seeped through your thin nightwear as you watched staff rush to set up the hoses to the water lines. Finally snapping out of your stupor you pulled yourself up and rushed to help.

When the fire was gone, and the commotions died down the silence settled like the embers that lightly fizzled out in the damp grass. The news traveled fast amongst the staff in waves of shock and horror.

Mr. Yoon was dead.

While his sons were away on a mission someone had killed him and set his mansion wing ablaze. Carefully trekking through the rubble a few of his men retrieved his body.

The funeral was private with Yoon DongMin’s place of rest being somewhere only his sons knew.

Every day following the house was quiet and somber as the brothers worked tirelessly in search of the culprit.

Some nights they would walk through the door of the servant quarters with exhaustion slowed steps and blood splattered across their clothing. It wasn't sadness that fueled their restless hours, it was pride and principle.

“It doesn't make sense!” Jisoo yelled, kicking over the chair beside him.

You looked up from the files you were tirelessly pouring over every night to get their business affairs in order after their fathers passing.

Jeonghan ran his hands through his hair in equal frustration. He took another drag from his cigarette, but it didn't calm him.

“How could someone not only sneak into our high security house but also find Fathers room and catch him off guard enough to slit his throat!” Jisoo was pacing now as he spoke.

“Maybe it's someone he knew?” Jeonghan said pensively. “A prostitute? A set up?”

Jisoo shook his head. “He would never let his guard down like that. And also, how would they know the layout enough to shut off both our main and backup cameras.”

“An inside job?” you threw out into the conversation.

“We question everyone with that level of clearance…extensively.'' Jeonghan said, flexing his fingers to soothe the aching of his bruised knuckles.

“We've all got a shareholders meeting in the morning and you guys are beyond exhausted.” You said soothingly. “Let's all get some rest and regroup tomorrow.”

“You're right.” Jisoo mumbled, suddenly aware of his exhaustion.

The boys had been sleeping in the servants' quarters recently for safety measures so Jisoo tiredly trudged to his room and shut the door.

After you were done packing your things away you turned to Jeonghan who hadn't budged from his chair.

“Do you want me to put on some tea?” you whispered with a small smile.

When he didn't respond you got up and turned on the electric kettle. You pushed in your chair and sat down in the one beside him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Without a response Jeonghan leaned over resting his weary head on your shoulder. You hesitated for a moment before gently running your finger through his hair. The kettle clicked off telling you water was boiled but you ignored it.

“Come with me.” You stood up pulling Jeonghan along with you to your room and shutting the door.

You stripped down to your underwear tossing the day's exhausted clothes in your hamper and then encouraged Jeonghan to do the same. He looked at you with curious amusement but still complied.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his small smile giving away his fatigue.

“Just trust me, okay? Let me take care of you. Please?”

Once he was done you pulled him into your bed, laying him down with the push of your hand against his chest.

You laid down next to him, resting your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, giving a squeeze.

To Jeonghan, the feeling of your warm body flush with his had healing properties.

“I think I sort of get how you feel.” Your voice was soft and careful as you spoke. “When I found out my brother died it felt so weird. I hated him so much but…”

“He’s still family.” Jeonghan finished for you.

Jeonghan lifted his head and looked into your face framed by the cool moonlight.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Moving on to his side he propped himself up, gazing down at you with what resembled the twinkle of a galaxy in his eyes. You smiled up at him, your cheeks bashful from his attention. Holding his face, you pulled him towards you until your desperate mouths met in a fever.

His body was hot and heavy on you as he leaned into your embrace, stealing more of your kisses.

Butterflies from his touch sprinkled across your sensitive skin, the velvet of his tongue intoxicatingly potent. Reaching under you he unclipped your bra, pulling it off, throwing it aside, before leaning down and kissing in between your soft mounds right above your heart.

You lost yourself in dizzy lust as his nimble fingers skillfully played with your swollen clit.

“W-wait.” You said, stopping his hand.

His lips vibrated against your nipples as he hummed to question you.

“Let me take care of you.”

You gently pushed at his chest until he laid back on the bed. Sitting up you straddled his hips and looked down at his amused face.

Jeonghan couldn't take his eyes off your alluring physique. The way your perked nipples still wet with his kisses glistened in the moonlight made it hard for him to form any amount of a coherent thought.

He couldn't resist squeezing your tensed thighs while you rubbed your pussy, wet and warm, up and down his painfully hard erection.

Sultry sounds fell from your pretty lips and made his cock twitch with need.

Just as Jeonghan was sure he couldn't take more of your teasing you lifted on your knees and rubbed his tip at your silky entrance. Completely entranced by your touch he fell apart just from watching the way you pulled your lips into your luscious mouth and crimped your eyebrows as your glistening core slowly swallowed him up.

Once you fit as much of him as you could, you stilled and blinked to halt the spinning of your lust hazed mind. The titillating feeling of your hot hungry walls squeezing around him caused his hips to lift into you in search of more.

Steadying yourself with your hands on his chest you worked your hips against him. His soft grunts poured lustrously in your ears filling you with pride as you continued your movements despite the increasing exhaustion of your hips. As the coil tightened in your core you steadied your breathing so you could last longer for him.

You felt Jeonghan's hands squeezing and guiding your hip, one hand slipping down to your clit and sending your mind into a static like fuzz. Your movements slowed but Jeonghan didn't mind taking the lead a bit by lifting his hips and meeting you halfway.

Missing your lips he reached up and pulled you to him, your sweaty skin rubbing together as the new position pushed him into you deliciously. The drink of his lips accompanied with his thrusts filled you with more ecstasy than your body could contain. The rush of your high overloaded your senses, shutting you down and leaving you feeling as if you were floating. You came back to the mumble of your name spilling from Jeonghan's lips as his hot seed filled you, mixing with your juices and slicking between your sticky spent bodies.

His heartbeat like a drum beneath you, his chest rocking you with every breath. Using your remaining strength, you lift yourself up and peppered Jeonghan with lazy kisses on his smiling lips. The fluttering of his feather-like eyelashes was hypnotizing as you watched him fall peacefully asleep.

Smiling to yourself you moved his sweaty hair from his face, holding a kiss in between his tensed brows until they softened.

“Sweet dreams my Hannie.” you whispered into his neck as you snuggled into him and shut your eyes for the night.

☾

You thanked past you for the alarm that woke you two up in time to get ready for the early morning meeting you had to attend. You shower first before waking him up. Instead of getting ready he laid still watching you with a smile as you scurried around and pulled on your clothes in a panic.

“You know it's okay if we're late.” Jeonghan spoke with a teasing lilt to his voice. He was thoroughly enjoying watching the way you wiggled your pants on.

You looked at him, smiling when you saw his signature mischievous head tilt that destroyed your every defense . You closed your eyes for a second to reset your weakening heart.

“I don't think being late is appropriate if you want to show respect and dignity.”

You sat down next to him on the bed to pull your socks on when he reached over and tickled you.

“Loosen up.” Jeonghan said laughing along with you. He sat up, pulling you closer and placing a kiss on your bare shoulder.

You took the chance to tickle him back, but his reflexes were quicker. Grabbing you he fell back on the bed, pulling you atop him.

You stopped his lips between your two fingers as they littered your breast with kisses. You felt him growing hard beneath you and lifted yourself back up with a teasing smirk.

“I'm going to make breakfast.”

Pulling away from his pleading grip you patted him playfully on the chest and stood up walking away with a sexy sway of your hips leaving him to figure out his own issue.

Jisoo raised his eyebrow at you when he heard the sound of the shower from your room's direction instead of Jeonghans. Without a word he poured his coffee, shaking his head and laughing at the blush that now colored your face.

After the meeting you went home first to finish up with the files in their father's office.

When lunchtime rolled around the brothers ate and then went for a little walk before they had to get back to the stuffy offices in their stuffy suits while stuffy people bored them to death.

“No wonder Father was so fucking miserable; this is depressingly painful.” Jeonghan said to his brother as he stretched and rubbed his eyes.

“Jeonghan. I think that old lady’s been following us.” Jisoo grabbed his brother's arm before he could turn around and look. “Let's just keep walking until we get somewhere more private and then we'll confront her.

Jeonghan nodded and they slightly picked up pace only taking small glances to check if the woman was still following them, which she was.

As the crowd thinned out, suspecting she wasn't alone, the brothers prepared themselves for a fight.

But when they turned around a middle aged woman stood there by herself.

She smiled and stepped closer. Instinctively Jeonghan stepped over to block his brother without taking his eyes off the woman's hands that were hidden in the sleeves of her jacket. Jeonghan reached for his gun and Jisoo quickly turned around to make sure no one was behind them.

“I came alone.” she said, her voice soft and low.

The women, although young looking, had long silver hair pulled elegantly into a bun. She wore a sweater dress with a collar that was low enough to reveal a ghastly scar across her neck. Jeonghan couldn't shake the familiar feeling she felt when he looked at her.

“Jeonghan….”

“How do you know my name?” Jeonghan demanded, now pulling out his gun and pointing it at the woman.

He knew never to underestimate an opponent so despite her small frame he was still on guard. She wouldn't get a chance to hurt him or his brother without a bullet through her head.

She put her hands up to show that they were empty.

“Please, I mean know harm. I just want to talk.’

When Jeonghan did not respond she inched closer.

Once she was a few feet away she smiled up at Jeonghan and spoke. “Jeonghan it's me. It's your mother.”

At that moment he saw it. The young face that smiled brightly in the picture he found in his father's draw when he was younger. The face that Kim had shown him when he had begged her to know more about his mother. Now small and thin her eyes still shone the same whimsical way.

Jeonghan could only lower his gun in quiet shock but Jisoo’s words spoke his mind. “No, that's impossible. You're dead.”

She shrugged casually. “Your father should've known best of all the importance of burying your own bodies.”

If it wasn't for his brother's support Jeonghan might have fallen over.

“It was you, wasn't it?” he asked quietly. “You killed him.”

Jisoo looked at his brother in confusion until all the pieces clicked together for him as well.

“That's how the killer knew where to find the cameras, and his room…” Jisoo thought aloud, his voice sounding almost impressed.

“He was so surprised when he saw me.” she bitterly chuckled as she recounted the night. “I'd never seen him look scared before…” she touched the scar on her neck before stepping closer again.

“So what exactly do you want?” Jeonghan asked, he was struggling to hold back the unidentifiable wall of emotions he was feeling.

“Nothing. I only wanted to free you of that monster, it was all I could do for you.”

She reached for Jeonghan's face, and he let her put a gentle hand on his cheek. Looking into his estranged mothers' eyes made tears well in Jeonghans.

“And to tell you that I love you so much.”

Jeonghan reached to wipe away the rivers that spilled from the woman’s shaking eyes, but she timidly backed away.

“Take care.” she whispered.

“Wait!” Jeonghan called out but the woman quickly turned and hurried away.

He started after her, but he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder. He turned to Jisoo to find his brother shaking his head.

Suddenly Jeonghan found himself laughing. Of all the emotions that whirled through him he wasn't sure why laughter was his outlet, but he didn’t fight it. At first Jisoo blinked at him, completely baffled but soon he was joining his brother.

“I think we've lost our minds.” Jisoo said, wiping tears from his eyes as their laughter finally subdued.

“Actually, I feel great.” Jeonghan said, draping his arm over his brother's shoulder and walking back to their car. “Let’s go home Jisoo.”

☾

Tiptoeing down the cold hall with your bare feet and your throw blanket wrapped securely around your barely dressed body you searched for your lover. Poking your head in each room as you passed it you finally rejoiced upon finding him in his study. His body languidly poured over the papers in front of him as he finished up the day's work.

You carefully creeped towards him in hopes to startle him in his focused state, but he looked up at you and smiled.

“You’re not exactly a ninja, love.”

He tilted his head in that adorable way that still owned your heart.

You spun his chair towards you and threw yourself in his lap.

“Come to bed.”

“I will, soon.”

Jeonghan took a deep inhale of your scent as your deliciously warm body straddled his lap. “You smell delicious.” he said playfully biting your shoulder, your giggle filling him with energy as you swatted him away.

“Did you talk to your mom today?”

“Umhm. She went back to Japan last night, so she called me when she landed.”

You could tell he still felt weird talking about her.

“Before I forget, open that draw.” Jeonghan said pointing to the right draw of his desk.

You smiled at him curiously before turning around on his lap and pulling out the draw. Your breath hitched the moment your eyes laid on the open jewelry box that was reviled to you.

“I figured I owed you something proper. These are all custom made just for you.”

Jeonghan reached around you and picked up the beautifully carved wooden box, bringing it closer to you.

Reaching inside you picked up a necklace with a delicate golden chain and a pendent that sparkled. You took the box from his hands and closed it before setting it on his desk and giving him the necklace.

Jeonghan placed a tender kiss on your neck before clasping the necklace around it. Holding your cheeks he gently turned your face to him and left a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Can I stay here while you finish up?” You said with round pleading eyes that he would never resist.

“You have to hold on, I need my hands free so I can work.

“I've got an idea!”

Jeonghan's eyebrow raised at you as you lifted the hem of his tee shirt, ducking under and crawling inside, resting your head on his chest.

The vibration of his laughter was soothing as he wrapped the cover around you, tucking the sides so it wouldn’t fall off.

“You are a very peculiar person.” He said while rubbing your back to still the shaking of your giggling.

His shirt was large and it secured you nicely against him, the warmth of his body and scent completely relaxing you.

“Hey! Don’t tickle me.” He said patting your butt in jest-full scolding.

“Then don't be so ticklish.” You said poking him once more.

“Either you stop, or I toss you out.”

You exaggeratedly gasped. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me.” He said, grabbing hold of your waist and lightly beginning to pull.

“Okay okay I won't tickle you.”

You had to wrap your arms tightly around him to stop from slipping as you laughed.

“What’s this?” You asked, your hands brushing against slightly raised skin down by his hip bone.

“Just a tattoo Jisoo wanted to get with me. You can see it later, stop moving.”

“How about you read aloud so you can stay awake, and I can go to sleep?” You request.

The soft hum of his voice vibrating through his chest was absolutely serene causing you to drift into a comfortable sleep.

When you woke up again you were in his bed still cuddling against him, his shirt gone and his arms like a cocoon around you. You struggled to slide from his embrace you as he mumbled protests against your shoulder and pulled you closer.

“Shhhh, I’m just going to pee.”

When you came back for the bathroom he was sprawled out in the bed, the covers no longer covering his torso.

Sitting down next to him you examined his new ink.

“Family….” You read in a whisper.

You delicately traced the thin loopy letters until Jeonghan stirred. Grabbing your hand, he smiled sleepily at you before pulling you against him.

“Jisoo wrote mine and I wrote his. To remind us of what’s important, of why we’re still doing this.”

He paused for a moment, thinking as he rubbed your back. You could feel the gentle thump of his heart… feel the peace in each beat.

“You, Jisoo, Kim… you guys are my family.”

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