#send more fic rec requests! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

multi-kpop-fanfics · 1 year ago

Text

Cats and Coffee for Two

pairing: photgrapher/barista!Wonwoo x barista fem!reader (ft. other sebongs)

genre: fluff, comedy, coworkers to lovers!AU, mutual pining, smut - minors dni.

warnings: mentions of food, alcohol and cat hairs, mentions of headaches and insecurities

smut warnings: oral sex (f rec), unprotected sex (contraception is mentioned but wrap it), creampie, praise, use of petnames, body worship, semi-public sex, manhandling, marking, making out, aftercare

word count: 12.2k

summary: Job hunting is a tough sport and Wonwoo has experienced it to its core. One fine autumn day comes where he's finally free from the shackles of unemployment, but he will soon find himself in the shackles of coffee, tea and cat hairs, But most importantly, he will have to share these shackles with you.

Author's note: this is my entry for the fall-ing for you collab hosted by @svthub! another long piece written by yours truly lmao

p.s.: huge thank you to @bitchlessdino, @gyuwoncheol, @wongyuseokie, @onlymingyus, @wonwussy, @horanghater and @shuadotcom for helping me out with the fic in more ways than one💕

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“....We received your CV and cover letter. While your educational details are impressive, the lack of working experience does not make you a suitable candidate for the work position in our company.

We thank you for your time and effort, and we wish you the best of luck.”

“Well fuck off, autogenerated e-mail response.” Wonwoo grumbles and sends the mail straight to the trash bin with an annoyed huff.

Another job opportunity flushed down the drain, to the point where another headache punches its way into his skull.

He’s tired. He’s tired, drained and disappointed as fuck. He knew job hunting is a tough sport, but he didn’t expect to be kicked to the curb for such a long time. He was hoping to get a chance for an interview, but not even that?

It makes him wonder if the years he spent in college were worth it after all.

Wonwoo’s headache gets stronger, to the point he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. He closes his laptop and gets up from his seat, making a beeline to the cupboard where he stores his medical supplies.

He swallows a painkiller, followed by a generous gulp of water from a bottle, hoping it will soothe the pain soon enough.

He walks over to the couch, plopping down unceremoniously. His energy levels have dropped to absolute zero and the maroon colored couch pillow suddenly seems like a gift sent by the Heavens. He takes off his glasses and lays his head on the pillow, eyes closing shut within a few seconds.

Two hours later, his sweet slumber is disrupted by the familiar ringtone of his phone, but the noise doesn’t make him any less terrified.

“H-Hello?”

“Hi loser, it’s me, your professional emotional and mental support!” A bright voice echoes from the other end of the line.

Wonwoo checks the ID of the caller and groans when he sees Seokmin’s name.

“What is wrong with you, Seokmin?”

“Bold of you to ask that question.”

“I am serious, Seok. Haven’t you heard of afternoon naps?”

“Dude, it’s eight o’clock.”

Wonwoo checks his watch and sighs in disappointment. “Fuck, I overslept, damnit.”

“Just how long were you asleep for?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. Why did you call me?”

“Oh I don’t know, because you’re my friend and I want to check up on you because you’ve been in a slump lately?”

“Damn, way to call me out, I guess.”

“If I don’t call you out, then who will?!”

“....Fair point.”

“Anyways, I’m planning to grab some drinks with Minghao in an hour.”

“Oh nice, hope you have fun.”

“And you’re coming with us.”

“No.”

“Oh come on! It won’t be anything wild, just the three of us drinking some alcohol!” Seokmin whines. “Please? Just this once?”

Wonwoo ponders over his friend’s request and grumbles from his end.

“Fine, if it means to make you hop off my ass, I guess.”

“What ass?”

“You know what, I changed my mi-”

“I’m just kidding!”

“You better be.”

“Okay okay, no need to get your claws out!”

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys in an hour.”

“Nice! Make sure to shower before getting out of the house.”

“Fuck you, Seokmin.”

Wonwoo ends the phone call and gets up from the couch, stretching his arms above his head. He takes a whiff from his shirt and he scrunches his eyes in disappointment.

“He’s right, I should take a shower.”

Wonwoo is glad he accepted Seokmin’s invitation, because he had no idea how much he needed this. Not that he would ever admit it.

“You seem less tense than earlier.” Minghao comments.

“It’s all thanks to the alcohol.”

“And the good company!” Seokmin butts in with his soju glass. “It’s okay to admit I was right.”

“And let it get to your head? No thank you.”

“Wonwoo is right, it will get to your head.”

“I hate you both!” Seokmin whines and downs his shot.

“Now that’s a lie and you know it.” The younger man deadpans.

Wonwoo watches the bickering between his friends, the rim of the soju glass resting on his bottom lip. But his mind is wicked enough to slip back into his own worries, his face frowning once more.

“Wonwoo? Are you okay?”

Minghao’s voice snaps him out of his trance.

“Hm? Yeah, all good.”

“Buddy, with all due respect, you were looking like your pet cat died or something.” Seokmin narrows his eyes.

“Fuck off, Salem is perfectly fine!” Wonwoo shivers.

“Are you still worried about finding a job?” Minghao asks, hitting the nail on the head.

“Well, how can I not be? I have been struggling ever since I graduated and all I’ve managed to do is photoshoots for stupid influencers!”

He realizes his voice was louder than it was supposed to be, judging from the side-eyeing glares he earned from other customers.

“Damn, you really had to stoop so low?” Seokmin scratches his head.

“Money makes the world go around, or something like that.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Minghao asks again.

“I don’t have enough work experience, let alone serious one, which means my CV doesn’t look very professional right now.”

“Hmm….”

“What?”

“I may have a solution to your problem.”

Wonwoo’s eyes go wide, his irises filling with hope.

“Do you remember Joshua? From the Social Relations department?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“He’s currently working at SVT Cat Cafe, he manages the paperwork and stuff. He could put in a few words for you, if you don’t mind.” Minghao sips the last of his soju.

“You should take the offer, Wonwoo! The cafe is really cute and you will love the kitties!” Seokmin grins excitedly.

“It’s…It sounds really good, to be honest. Almost too good to be true.” Wonwoo lets out a breath he was holding all this time.

“You can always check out their website and send your CV in their email address. They are still hiring people, so it’s a good chance.”

“Hao, I don’t know what to say, seriously.” Wonwoo laughs nervously.

“People usually say thank you.” Seokmin jokes.

“One more word and I’ll shove the entire soju bottle in your mouth, I swear.”

The view through the window is nothing short of idyllic, almost like the aesthetic images you see on Pinterest and Instagram. Maple leaves are dancing to the rhythm of the November winds, adding color to the dull concrete of the pavement, even if you know they won’t stay there for long.

You can’t say you’ve gotten used to the chilly weather, especially after your late vacation in Greece - it’s always too warm there, as you were warned beforehand. But you’re definitely glad you can enjoy a hot cup of coffee with cinnamon and chocolate sprinkles before the opening.

You hear tiny meows behind the mahogany counter and you walk in front of it, letting out a sigh when you pinpoint the source of the noises.

“Tofu, I swear to God.” You put the cup down and pick the white kitty in your arms. “I know you like roaming around but your cat hairs are invisible and I don’t want them in the beverages.”

The feline just tilts her head sideways and purrs in your arms, her green eyes staring at you, as if she is the most innocent creature in the universe (she is, most of the time).

“Your boba eyes aren’t working on me, missy. I know your true nature.”

Tofu responds with another meow, as if she’s asking you ‘who, me?’.

You go back and forth with the cat’s meows and purrs, utterly unaware of the presence of two men just a few feet away.

“Does that happen on a daily basis?” Wonwoo asks with a hushed voice.

“Yeah, with almost every single cat.” Joshua responds. “Although Tofu is her favorite.”

“I think I can see that.”

You hear a couple of whispers behind you and you turn your attention to the two men.

“Oh, Joshua! You’re early today.” You comment. “And who is the gentleman next to you?”

“U-Uh, hi. I’m Jeon Wonwoo.” The man fixes his glasses nervously.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.” You stretch your arm, waiting for a handshake.

“L-Likewise.” Wonwoo hesitantly shakes your hand.

“Wonwoo will be the photographer for our social media accounts and official website, starting today.” Joshua adds.

“Oh, that’s great news!” You exclaim. “I promise you’ll have a wonderful time working here, Wonwoo.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Well, I’m afraid I have to take my leave now, business is calling.” Joshua announces after checking his watch. “Do not worry, Wonwoo. I’m leaving you in great hands. And paws.”

“See you later, Shua!” You bid your coworker farewell.

Tofu walks around Wonwoo’s legs and rubs herself all over him.

“I think she likes you.”

“You think so?” Wonwoo asks as he bends down to pet the cat, a fond smile on his face as the feline leans into his hand.

“She’s pretty picky with people, so seeing her so warm towards someone she has never seen before is pretty much a miracle.” You chuckle.

“Well, I should feel honored then.” He responds with a small smile.

“Would you like to order something? I could fix you a cup before the opening.”

“Um, could I have an iced americano then?”

“Wow, you’re brave.” You laugh in disbelief.

“What makes you say that?”

“You just ordered iced coffee in the middle of autumn. Does your throat have a death wish?” You put a few ice cubes in a plastic cup.

“Force of habit, I guess.” Wonwoo replies.

“That sounded very…moody.”

“Sorry, it wasn’t my intention…” He laces his fingers together and purses his lips together.

“You aren’t quite the extroverted one, are you?” You place the cup with the bitter liquid in front of him.

“Not really.”

“It’s okay! You will be able to overcome it with time.” You try to reassure him.

“If you say so.” Wonwoo takes a sip of his coffee. “I’ll go check out the rest of the cafe, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, feel free to explore a bit!” You smile at him while you wrap your apron around your waist.

“The coffee is really good, by the way.”

“Thank you! It’s my job, after all.”

Wonwoo searches for his wallet in his backpack, but you stop him before he finds it.

“It’s on the house, no need to pay for it.”

“But-”

“Good luck today, Wonwoo.”

“T-Thanks. You too, Y/N.”

He looks at you one last time before he goes to the open space of the cafe to familiarize himself with his surroundings.

The day progresses without any problems - if anything, the regular customers have already started gossiping about Wonwoo, although most of it revolves around his God-like facial features.

You kinda wish you were serving the coffee instead of making it behind the counter. At least you would have been able to see Wonwoo up close in action with his camera. But you can’t say you haven’t been stealing glances through the window that separates the two spaces of the cafe.

“Eyeing the new guy, are we now?” One of your coworkers leans on the counter in an attempt to gossip.

“Oh, shut up, Chan.”

“What? I’m just asking!”

“Define asking?”

“For someone who claims to be the sunshine type in this business, you’re pretty snappy right now.” The ashen-haired man snickers.

“I’m not snappy! It’s rush hour and I’m trying to focus on my job.” You defend yourself.

“It’s rush hour for everyone here, you’re not special, Y/N.”

“Either way, you’re not getting anything out of me, Chan.” You place two porcelain cups filled with hot chocolate. “Now get these to table four.”

“Vibe killer.” Chan grumbles under his breath as he places the cups on the disk.

“I heard that, shortie!”

“No cupcakes for you tomorrow!” He mocks you before disappearing into the outer space of the cafe.

You let out an exasperated sigh, followed by a short laugh and you return to the coffee machine, checking the orders you have received and start making them one by one.

While the cafe hasn’t been operating for long, you’ve been part of it since day one. You feel glad to be finally putting your barista working license to work and do something that you love dearly - blame your undying love for coffee and cats.

Chan was also one of the first employees who joined the team, but he’s on the service part and he’s damn good at it (even if he did break a couple of glasses on his first week). The regular patrons know him by name and he never fails to make them swoon over with just a single smile of his.

Chan is a sweetheart, but also a little shit when it comes to teasing you. Although he never once overstepped with teasing. But he always goes overboard with the treats he gets you from the bakery across the street. You still remember the six pieces of cinnamon rolls he got you two weeks ago and how persistent he was for you to eat them all (you ate them all eventually).

Late in the afternoon, your shift comes to an end and you hang your apron, starting to pack up your stuff. Wonwoo walks into the main area and starts dismantling his camera to put it back in its box.

“So, how did the first day go?” You attempt to strike conversation.

“It was….interesting, I suppose.” He shrugs.

“You sound a bit tired….”

“My social battery died about halfway through the shift, to be honest.” He admits with a heavy sigh. “At least the cats are sociable enough to let me pet them.”

“I think you should go home and get some rest.” You give him some advice.

“I don’t think rest is going to happen anytime soon, but thanks.” He zips up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. “Goodnight and see you tomorrow, Y/N.” He bids you farewell and disappears through the doors of the cafe.

Shame, he’s cute but so uptight, you think. It’s not like there’s anything else you can do right now, so you leave the cafe, locking it shut and you walk towards the bus station to catch your ride back home.

A while later, you’re laying in your bed under the covers and decide to scroll through your socials for a while before falling asleep. You open Instagram and check your notifications, your eyes zooming on the purple circle around the profile picture of the cat cafe.

You click on it and a smile creeps on your face when you see Wonwoo’s picture on one of the Instagram stories, tagging Wonwoo’s account and welcoming him to the team. Curiosity gets the better of you and you click on the tag, leading you to his personal account. You frown a bit when you notice it’s private, but you don’t hesitate to send him a following request.

You hope he won’t think you’re a creep or something. I mean, he can definitely recognize you from your profile picture, right?

To your luck, a notification pops up on the top part of your screen and you squeal when you realize that Wonwoo has followed you back.

You waste zero time to check the pictures he has posted over the years and you quickly understand that he’s not the type to show off his face. But the one thing that’s prominent in his account is the astronomical amount of breathtaking pictures from the places he has visited throughout his life. You break into a giggling fit when you click on a post with his cat and you read a few comments from his friends, lovingly making fun of his ‘cat dad’ tendencies. Your heart swells when you see more photos of him playing with a black cat and petting him until said cat slaps his hands away.

Now you know why Tofu liked him at first sight.

One week later.

Today is an off day for you and you plan to sleep until midday. But your boss has other plans.

You want to cuss at everything around you within a radius of ten kilometers when your phone rings and you rub your eyes to forcefully wake yourself up and answer the call.

“Good morning, Boss.”

“Good morning, Y/N. I’m sorry for calling you so early, but you need to come as soon as you can at the cafe.”

“Why is that? I mean, it’s my day off today.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yoona just called me from the hospital, she had an accident yesterday.”

“What?!” You nearly jump out of the bed. “Is she okay?!”

“She’s out of harm's way, but her arm has suffered a fracture and she won’t be able to work for the next two months.”

“Oh my God….”

“We really need you here, Y/N.”

“Yes, yes of course. I’ll be there in half an hour.” You say and end the call.

You grumble and get out of the bed, your feet taking you to the bathroom to wash your face and fix your hair. Once you’re out, you go back to the bedroom and pick a hoodie with jeans to put on.

You walk out of your apartment and fasten your jacket around you, jogging to the bus station to catch your ride to work.

Twenty minutes later, you arrive at the cafe and you’re welcomed with a literal mess in the barista bench and a yelling Chan and a frustrated Wonwoo.

“This isn’t how you’re supposed to turn it!”

“And what do you know about coffee machines?!”

“All corks are manufactured to fasten towards a certain direction!.”

“You’re just a photographer, not an engineer!”

“And you’re just a waiter, not a barista!”

“Whoa, whoa! Both of you, get away from the machines!” You yell at them and shoo them away to get to work. “Jesus, what the hell did you do here?!”

“We were just trying to make the orders!” Chan defends himself.

“You could have just told the customers that coffee won’t be served until the barista is here!”

“That’s what I suggested as well, but he said ‘he knows better’.” Wonwoo shrugs.

“Yeah, that’s because I’ve been here longer than you!” The shorter man retorts.

“Sometimes, it’s productive to listen to other people’s ideas, they might help you in ways you could never imagine.” You sigh as your hands fiddle with the machine and check the orders one by one.

“Finally, someone with common sense.” Wonwoo points towards you. “At least some people know how to think in here.” He walks away and picks up his camera again, resuming his initial tasks.

“I can’t believe you took his side!” Chan complains to you.

“I didn’t take his side, our opinions just happened to collide!”

“Oh my God, you’re so into him, it actually sickens me.” The man fake gags.

“Can you stop bringing that up?! What if he listens?!” You whip your head around and glare at your friend.

“So you admit it! You have a crush on him!”

“Yeah I do. You can get your ‘detective of the year’ honorary badge now.” You groan.

“I- Ugh, whatever.”

“Look, Chan, I wasn’t even supposed to be here today. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

Chan lets out a deep breath to calm down as he picks up the serving disk.

“I know, Y/N. I hope the remaining apple pie in the box will lighten up your mood and fill in your empty stomach. It’s freshly baked.”

“......You idiot.”

“I love you too, work wife.” He flashes you a grin and runs back to the customers.

You take a peek in the pastry box and the aroma of cinnamon and apples hits your nostrils like the early morning sunlight enters a cold room.

Your fingers don’t hesitate to dip in the box and pick a bite from the dessert, putting it in your mouth to eat it. You hum in approval when the sweet warmth envelopes your taste buds, giving you a much needed energy boost.

You return to your work at hand, completely unaware of Wonwoo’s eyes watching you like a hawk, an unreadable expression overcoming his features. The tuxedo cat jumping on the shelf next to his head snaps him out of it, letting out a cranky meow at him.

“What is it, Taro?” He raises his hand to pet her fur.

Taro meows back as she flops down on the surface to stretch herself out for more pets.

“Jealous of not giving you enough attention?”

She meows even louder this time, as if she’s saying yes.

“I’m sorry, your Highness.” Wonwoo ruffles her belly. “A man has to work to get by.”

Taro narrows her eyes, as if she’s doubting his words.

“Okay fine, I was looking at her! What are you gonna do about it?”

The cat raises her front paws in the air and Wonwoo lets out an airy laugh, positioning his camera towards the long-haired feline to capture her in a few poses.

“Hope those pictures will be enough for you to stop blackmailing me.��

Two weeks later.

God, these double shifts are fucking killing me, you mentally groan while sitting in one of the tables next to the cat trees. But it’s nice working early, since you get to come here and chill with the cats before opening time.

One of the resident cats jumps next to you, rubbing himself on your thigh.

“Good morning to you too, Dino Nugget. Did you sleep well?”

The orange cat jumps in your lap and sits in a loaf position without even asking you.

“Wow sir, it’s not even free real estate.” You laugh and run your hand over his fur.

He turns around and starts pawing at your hand, as if it’s a toy. He then opens his jaw to nibble at your finger, his teeth grazing your skin a bit harsher than usual.

“Ow, dude! That’s my hand, not your chew toy!” You yelp lightly.

You hear the clicking sound of a camera not far away from you and you snap your head to the source of the sound, your eyes falling on Wonwoo.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-”

“No no, it’s okay! You were just doing your job.” You wave your hand.

“Do you….mind if I sit with you?” He asks sheepishly.

“Of course not! I was about to ask you, actually.” You smile.

Wonwoo makes himself comfortable next to you, smiling towards the orange cat.

“You seem to have loosened up a bit.”

“Yeah. But moments like those are also nice.” He says. “It can get….hectic sometimes and I don’t always deal well with pressure.”

“That’s exactly why the kitties are here! They have this magic ability to take away the negativity from you.”

“Including this one?” He points towards Dino Nugget.

“Yeah. But he will try to bite you, no matter what.”

“Well, he’s an orange cat. What did you expect?” Wonwoo deadpans and you look at him with a shocked expression.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to-”

You cut him off with a laughter loud enough to scare Dino Nugget off your lap.

“You’re so serious about cats, it’s actually funny!” You admit between laughs.

“Of course I’m serious about them! And you aren’t?”

“I am! I just didn’t expect that random orange cat fact, y’know.”

“Oh, okay.” Wonwoo purses his lips.

Silence befalls the outer space.

“Great, now I made things awkward again.” He sighs in defeat.

“No, you didn’t! It was just…. well…”

“Awkward behaviour.”

“.....Yeah, actually.”

“God, Seokmin is so fucking right.” Wonwoo curses at himself.

“Who’s Seokmin?”

“One of my best friends and the bane of my existence. He has been pestering me about my lack of social skills and stuff like that.”

“I would say he sounds almost like Chan.”

“Seokmin doesn’t buy me pastries every day.”

“Did you just emit jealousy, Wonwoo?”

“No, I’m just stating the facts. I’m 100% sure he will show up today with another box of fresh desserts.”

“You can always get a bite from them.” You nudge his shoulder.

“I don’t think he would like that.”

“Why are you so negative about Chan?”

“I’m not negative! He’s just… you guys seem really close with each other, that’s all.”

“Wonwoo, we’re just friends! The work husband and wife thing is just for funsies!” You reassure him and his features soften almost immediately.

“If you say so.”

“Wonwoo, I’m being serious.”

“I know. I don’t mean to call you a liar or something.”

“Okay…” You trail off with an uncertain look written over your face.

Another moment of silence passes until Wonwoo speaks up again.

“How are you handling the double shifts?”

“Terribly. My sleep schedule has been fucked up and I don’t think I’ll be able to fix it any time soon.” You slouch in your seat.

“Any updates about the recruitment?”

“Absolutely nothing so far. Unless a miracle happens.” You scoff.

“Can you teach me how to make coffee then?” Wonwoo asks you and your eyes shoot up in surprise.

“I- Uhm, yeah I can, but why?”

“I want to help you.”

“With making coffee?!”

“Yes. What’s so weird about it?”

“N-Nothing! I just didn’t expect you to offer to help me.”

“The truth is that I haven’t been the best towards you, while you’ve been very warm and welcoming towards me since day one.” He admits while averting your gaze.

“But giving you extra work outside of your expertise is outrageous!”

“But I’m the one asking for it!”

A loud chirping sound comes from behind you and you notice Henry shooting a death glare at you for disrupting his beauty sleep.

“Go to sleep, Henry.” You roll your eyes at the tabby cat and the feline yawns before stretching his hind legs.

“So? What do you think?” Wonwoo asks you again.

You look at him and you can see a fire being ignited in his eyes, as if he really wants to do that.

You check your watch and look between Wonwoo and the inner space of the cafe, solidifying your decision.

“Get up.” You pat his back.

“Does that mean yes?”

“It means that you need to pay a lot of attention and catch up quickly. We have less than an hour and a half until the cafe opens.” You walk into the cafe and towards the barista counter.

Wonwoo goes towards the cat trees, smiling brightly towards the felines.

“Watch me learn how to brew coffee and win her over, okay?”

Two sharp knocks on the window wall snap him back to reality and he looks at you furiously waving at him to come inside.

Wonwoo jogs back in the cafe, joining you behind the counter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You put your hands on your waist.

“Uh, to watch you make coffee?”

“Rule number one: Never enter the barista area without lint-rolling your clothes first.” You point towards a shelf away from the counter, where a couple of lint rollers are.

“When did you even clean yourself up?” Wonwoo asks while running the roller over his hoodie and jeans.

“When you were talking to the cats.” You deadpan.

“Okay, my clothes are clean. Now what?”

“Rule number two: Always wear a barista apron while working behind your counter. We hang them right next to the window wall.”

He picks one of the aprons and puts the top strap around his neck, tying the lower one around his waist. You don’t miss the double loop and you wonder how slim his waist must be and how you hands would-

“What is rule number three?” His question cuts your train of thoughts and you try to get yourself together.

“Wash your hands thoroughly, of course.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The first steps of Wonwoo’s barista adventures go rather smoothly - he realizes he’s good at memorizing the various coffee blends. Handling the machine isn’t that much difficult, but it’s definitely not as easy as assembling his camera.

His eyes never leave your skilled hands, effortlessly maneuvering a glass under the machine, clicking the proper buttons to make a serve of espresso.

“That looked so easy, but something tells me it won’t be as easy as I think it is.” Wonwoo laughs awkwardly.

“It’s actually not very hard. You just have to be careful with the amount of coffee you will put in the portafilter.”

“Can I try now?”

“Don’t be impatient. You need to throw away the used shot and then purge the machine with water first.” You explain with a smile.

“Hm, okay. I think I can do that.”

He takes out the portafilter and disposes of the used espresso shot. He cleans the portafilter separately while running the machine with only water.

“Good job! It was smart to clean the portafilter during the machine run.”

“Thought it would save me time.”

“And you thought well. This can be really useful during rush hour.”

“What’s next?”

“You dry the filter and fill it in with the desired amount of espresso. But remember, it needs to be even!”

“Got that.” He grabs the bag of ground coffee and takes a few spoonfuls of the blend and puts it in the clean filter, tapping it on the counter to flatten the surface.

“Use the tamper to tamp it down and make it compact enough.” You remind him of the next step.

He wordlessly follows your tip and does exactly as you told him, locking the portafilter in the machine. He grabs a demitasse glass and places it under the machine and presses the button, watching the dark brown liquid flow into the cup.

“Congratulations, you just made your first cup of espresso!” You give him tiny claps and he smiles sheepishly.

“Moment of truth.” He breathes out and hands you over the glass to taste the coffee he made. You take a sip and allow your taste buds to absorb the rich flavor.

“Not bad for the first time!” You hum in satisfaction.

“Thank God, I thought I would poison you or something.” Wonwoo lets out a heavy breath.

“Why are you so critical of yourself?”

“I have been classified as a kitchen hazard.”

“Well, this isn’t a kitchen, as you can see.”

“But still-”

“No buts. You asked to learn how to make coffee and you have to accept that you’re going to make mistakes in the process.”

“I know, but it’s kinda scary.”

“It was scary for you to work among so many people the first week, but you didn’t give up, did you?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“I am doing it for the cats, Y/N.”

“If that’s what makes your boat float, then who am I to disagree?” You laugh and clean the machine all over again.

The words die down in Wonwoo’s throat and he tries to find something to occupy himself with.

“You don’t have to do anything else around here now.” You tell him.

“Oh. Was that all?” His voice comes out almost disappointed.

“Only for now. It’s not like we have a lot of time left until customers start coming in and I would hate to throw you in the den of wolves right away. Besides, your friends seem to miss you already.” You turn your head to the window wall and Wonwoo follows suit, breaking out in laughter when he sees Dino Nugget scratching against the window.

“Oh my God, not him again.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to him!”

“Y/N, he literally bit you an hour ago.”

“He’s just an orange cat - or so you said. He’s also Chan’s fave.”

“Well too bad I already have a fave.” Wonwoo unties his apron and hangs it.

“Ooh, who is it?” You ask with curiosity.

“That’s my secret.”

“Okay mister secretive.” You scoff lightly.

Secretive. What a great word to describe me, Wonwoo thinks with a tight-lipped smile that fights to become a grin when he returns to the cafe cats, sitting down on one of the tables to fiddle with his camera.

He skims through the picture he has taken so far, stopping at the one where Dino Nugget is in your lap and you’re petting him with a loving smile on his face.

As if on cue, Tofu tip toes her way next to Wonwoo and puts her paw over his hand, raising her body on her hind legs.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

The feline purrs loudly and rubs her head on the back of his hand.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Hours later, at Joshua’s place.

“So you’re telling me that Wonwoo is smitten with Y/N?”

“Yeah! You have to trust me on this, Shua, I just know it!” Chan repeatedly taps his soju glass on the table.

“Okay, but why are you so pressed about it?”

“Because none of them are doing anything about it! And I hate mutual pining with a burning passion!”

“Sounds like you’re scared of losing your work wife to me.” Joshua smirks in his glass.

“I’m not scared! I just want to look out for her!”

“As her work husband?”

“And her bestie, duh!”

“You’re so dramatic about this.”

“And you’re so nonchalant about this!”

“It’s their business, not mine, Chan!”

“And since when do you not care about gossip, Joshua?” The younger man raises his eyebrow.

“Don’t you see I’m making an effort to stay gossip-free?” Joshua whines in defeat.

“And it’s failing miserably.”

The older man sighs and drinks a bit of his soju. “Yeah, it fucking did.”

“What, you know things I don’t?”

“Let’s just say that running the HR of an establishment grants you perks that someone like you doesn’t have.”

“Just tell me already! I wasn’t there today, come on!”

“Wonwoo and Y/N were both seen behind the barista counter today.”

“Okay….Maybe he was taking pics of her during the deed? Y’know, for promotion purposes?”

“You don’t understand - Y/N was showing him how to operate the coffee machine. He even managed to make a few batches of espresso.”

Chan chokes on alcohol and starts coughing loudly, smacking his chest.

“Whoa, whoa, breathe!” Joshua offers him a glass of water. “I didn’t mean to kill you!”

“Well - gah - I certainly felt like dying!” He gasps for breath. “But - How? When did things escalate so fast?!”

“From what I’ve heard, Wonwoo wanted to help Y/N until someone applies for the position and Boss agreed to it, as long as he’s under Y/N’s supervision.”

“Fuck this, I can help her too!”

“Bitch you don’t even know which way the corks turn!” Joshua laughs.

“Fuck you too, Hong!”

“You know, this could work in their favor. And yours, eventually.”

“How?”

“They will get to spend more time together and grow closer, you idiot!”

“Well yeah, but that also depends on whether one of the two will fuck up the process or not!” Chan retorts.

“Just….have some faith, okay?” Joshua tries to convince him.

“If you say so, I guess.”

Two months later.

“Did you have a secret glow up or something?” Seokmin scans Wonwoo from the top to the bottom.

“You can just admit you were checking me out.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“As long as the right person isn’t checking you out, my eyes don’t matter, friend.”

“Oh my God, just say you want to talk about Y/N.”

“Yes I fucking do, because she’s clearly the reason you’ve changed!” Seokmin slams his hands on the table. “And for the better!”

“I don’t feel like I’ve undergone any drastic changes, though.”

“That’s because you’re extremely harsh on yourself and refuse to see the truth!”

“And the truth is?”

Seokmin grunts in disappointment. “That you are head over heels for Y/N, you idiot.”

“And what if I am? I mean, she hasn’t really shown any real interest towards me.” Wonwoo shrugs.

“Dude, she has literally taken you under her wing and taught you how to make coffee! While she was swamped with work!”

“I just wanted to help her, she was doing double shifts for two weeks straight!”

“And I’m more than sure that she likes you even more because of that!”

“I was just trying to be nice, just like that.”

“Wonwoo, nobody is nice just like that. Everyone has their own agendas.” Seokmin smirks. “It all boils down to the benefits these agendas hold. And yours is going to benefit a lot of people.”

“Let’s say you’re right then. Why didn’t she just confess? She’s like, the definition of an extrovert.”

“Not everyone has the guts or lack of tact to just go to their crush and confess their feelings to them, you know.”

“How can you be so sure that Y/N has a crush on me?”

“I’m going to ask you a few questions and I want you to answer them truthfully.” Seokmin puts his palms together.

“Yes, dear therapist.” Wonwoo crosses his arms in front of his chest and mocks his friend.

“Does she know your coffee order?”

“Yeah, but she knows the coffee order of most regulars, it’s her job.”

“Fair point, but does she make coffee for you during work and accompany it with a snack?”

Wonwoo racks his brain for instances that match Seokmin’s question and to his surprise, he recalls a lot of them.

“You don’t even have to say anything, I can see the answer written all over your face.”

“Is that even enough to count as proof?”

“I��m not done yet.” Seokmin takes a sip of water to clear his throat. “Moving on to my next question - does she ask you about your day, how did you sleep and stuff like that?”

“Yeah, but that’s basic human decency.”

“Ugh, whatever. Have you ever complimented her appearance? Like, ‘Hey, that color looks very pretty on you!’ or something like that?”

“.....No.” Wonwoo replies with an awkward expression.

Seokmin rolls his eyes and drags his palms over his face dramatically.

“Why are you acting like this?! I’m not ignoring her on purpose!”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything?!”

“How can I do something when she’s so pretty and popular and a fucking sunshine and I’m….this?” Wonwoo vaguely gestures at himself.

Seokmin sighs audibly and rests his elbows on the table. “Can you tell me what’s really going on? Because I am not buying the shit you’ve said so far.”

Wonwoo’s expression turns bitter the moment Seokmin calls him out.

“There’s a contender?”

“Yeah, that fucking dipshit called Chan. He never misses a chance to show off that stupid smile of his to everyone and call himself Y/N’s ‘work husband’. He has the audacity to buy her snacks whenever their shifts overlap!”

“Oh my God.” Seokmin bursts out in laughter.

“I’m sharing my problems with you and you’re laughing?”

“I am laughing because you’re green with jealousy!”

“I- I’m not jealous! I’m just stating the facts here! Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Wonwoo, it’s just you and me here, you can be honest.”

“I- Fine, I am jealous of that short bitch and the relationship he has with Y/N.”

“And that’s fine! But you also need to keep in mind that Y/N probably knows this Chan guy longer than she knows you, so it’s kind of natural to have a closer relationship with him.”

“You are not helping right now, Seok.”

Silence befalls the two friends as they pick on the leftovers of their food, contemplating their discussion.

“Something just popped into my head.” Seokmin speaks up again.

“It better not be another brain fart of yours.” Wonwoo grimaces.

“You should go to work tomorrow with your motorbike!”

“Okay. And?”

“And….You should dress up a tad bit fancier for once.”

“Why should I even-”

“Shhhhhhh, just… Just do as I say, okay? Now zip it, I wasn’t finished yet.” Seokmin shushes him. “Let me think…. a white button-up and those dark blue wide leg jeans you have?”

“What about those?”

“You’re wearing them tomorrow. No questions asked.”

“Seokmin, it’s the middle of November, I’m gonna freeze to death.”

“You’re gonna wear a heavy jacket on top, you idiot. Besides, it won’t be that cold tomorrow.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Ever heard of weather forecasts?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m not the one you want to fuck, let’s be real here.” Seokmin smirks and Wonwoo throws a fried potato at him.

“I swear to God, if I end up making a fool of myself or catching a cold, you won’t hear from me ever again.”

“Cool, does that mean I get to adopt Salem after your death?”

“Keep your grimy hands off my cat, bitch.”

“I will, because you’ll be alive and Y/N will be in your arms within the span of….twenty four hours. Maybe less, if you play your cards right.” Seokmin winks.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look scary when you have something specific in mind?”

“You can just admit you like it when I look scary because it makes me even sexier.”

“You’re fucking gross.”

Wonwoo wakes up at 7:30 sharp, as always. But today is different - today is the day he finally confesses to you. Blame Seokmin’s idea, blame Chan’s behavior towards you, blame his own cowardice - whatever the reason is, Wonwoo is dead set on achieving his goal today.

He opens his closet and skims through his clothes until he finds the ones Seokmin specifically told him to wear.

He’s worried he might catch a cold with just a white button down and jeans, but there’s always his trusty fuzzy jacket - the cold never passes through that and it definitely won’t pass now, no matter what he’s wearing underneath.

The thought of wearing this particular outfit to work in order to impress you makes him feel stupid and giddy at the same time, as if he’s the nerdy highschooler in love with the pretty girl of the class.

“How damn cliché.” He chuckles to himself and takes out the clothes to hang them in front of the closet. He goes to the bathroom, jumping in the shower for a quick refreshment. It only takes him five minutes to wash his hair and body, wrapping a towel around his waist. He takes a quick look at himself in the mirror and nods in satisfaction.

The gym has definitely paid off, he thinks and grabs the hair dryer to dry his hair. Once he’s done, he chooses to lightly run his fingers through them, not wanting to disrupt the curly form.

He returns to the bedroom to put on his clothes, humming in approval when he sees his reflection in the full body mirror. He spritzes his favorite perfume all over him and wears his horn-rimmed glasses to complete the look and wears his jacket on top to keep himself warm.

He really doesn’t want to admit it, but Seokmin might be right on the money this time.

He’s about to leave when his eyes fall on the spare helmet he keeps in the corner of his closet and decides to take it with him - in case the plan works out, he wants to keep you safe while you’re riding with him on his bike.

He just hopes you aren’t afraid of motorbikes.

Salem walks in the bedroom and meows at Wonwoo to get his attention.

“Hi buddy. How do I look?”

The cat purrs loudly as he rubs himself on Wonwoo’s jeans.

“Thanks for the approval. I hope Y/N approves too.”

Salem meows again and paws on his dad’s leg.

“I’ll see you later, pal. Hopefully with some pretty company.”

“So it’s official?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Yoona has completed her rehab, but she has decided to move out of Seoul.” Your boss notifies you.

“I see…” You think and mixed feelings wash over you. You’re sad that Yoona is leaving so soon, but that also means you’ll get to spend even more time with Wonwoo behind the barista counter.

“But on the bright side, we managed to get a new employee!”

“W-What? When did that happen?”

“Just yesterday! I asked them if they could start soon and they will be here tomorrow morning.” Your boss grins widely. “Can I count on you to show them the ropes?”

“Oh, um, yeah, of course!” You form a fake smile.

“Great! You’ll get an extra this month for this, do not worry about that.”

“I appreciate it, Boss.”

The lady walks away and your shoulders slouch in defeat, your dreams of watching Wonwoo’s forearms operate the coffee machine.

“A penny for your thoughts, wife?” Chan comes up to the counter.

“A penny might be too little for the amount of thoughts I have, Chan.”

“You don’t seem excited today.”

“Boss just told me that Yoona is leaving and we already have a replacement for her.” You frown.

“I know you’re sad you probably won’t see Yoona again, but at least you won’t have to work overtime again!” Chan tries to lift your mood.

“That’s not the only problem, Chan.”

“What is it then- Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Well, I mean…It’s not like you won’t see him ever again.”

“But it’s not the same!”

“Oh my God, can you just confess already?! I’m tired of this rom-com!” Chan whines.

“You know what?” Your mouth falls open. “I might do it today.”

“Finally! But why is your mouth hanging like that?”

You point towards the door and Wonwoo who walks inside, looking like the male lead of a k-drama.

“Can you please close your mouth? A fly could enter and you could choke.” He snickers and you slap his arm.

“Good morning!” Wonwoo greets the two of you with a bright smile.

“Good morning Wonwoo! You seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Yeah, you could say that. By the way, I bought you some honey cupcakes.” He puts the pastry box on the counter and he walks next to you to wear his apron.

“What?! They told me they had run out today!” Chan is flabbergasted.

“Well, you weren’t lucky enough to catch the fresh batch, Channie.” Wonwoo smirks and the younger man grimaces and almost slams the water glasses on his disk.

“Who are you and what have you done to the Wonwoo I know?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I am him. Just a bit elevated.” He puffs out his chest ever so slightly.

“Does the elevation come with a brand new motorbike?”

“Oh that? I already had it, but it was under repair for a good chunk of time.”

“But now you can ride it again, right?”

“Of course! Otherwise I wouldn’t be here now.”

“It looks really cool by the way.”

“The motorbike?”

“Everything, actually.”

“Everything?” He tilts his head sideways.

You clear your throat. “By the way, Boss told me we’re getting a new barista tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see.” He replies with a monotonous voice. “So no more sessions?”

“Yeah, pretty much. But I’m sure you probably miss your camera.”

“It’s not like I wasn’t touching it at all. Besides, working with you is really fun.”

“Not anymore, since it’s the last day today.”

“Well then, we should make the most of it, right?” He looks at you with a swirling mix of warmth and seduction.

“B-Be careful with the cinnamon, you don’t want to overdo it.” You stammer over your words, turning your head away.

“Yes ma’am.” Wonwoo chuckles, not missing the light flush over your cheeks as he resumes his task.

As if your brains are connected to the same thinking bubble, they both repeat the same phrase over and over again.

This is going smoother than cream.

“Is it legal to do this?” Wonwoo asks with uncertainty.

“Relax, we’re not gonna commit crimes. We can just say we stayed behind to clean up! Not that anyone will care that we made two cups of coffee.” You reassure him.

“But the machine isn’t on. How are you going to make coffee without it?”

You flash a warm smile. “This is exactly why I wanted it to be the two of us.”

You search under the counter for a few seconds and you pull out a black box that has been tightly sealed. You open it carefully and take out a coffee pot made of copper, a sealed bag of coffee blend and a mini gas heater.

“What is all this?” Wonwoo’s curiosity is piqued.

“This is something I learned during my vacation in Greece. I will show you how to make traditional Greek coffee.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he finds himself walking behind the counter and right next to you.

You open the sealed bag and the rich aroma quickly spreads in the air, satisfied hums echoing in the silent cafe.

“You get it now, don’t you?”

“It smells so good.”

“Wait until you actually taste it.” You giggle.

“Judging from the tools, it must be hard to make it.”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” You fill the coffee pot with cold water. “It requires a lot of technique and “meraki”, as the locals usually call it.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s the love and passion poured in the coffee brewing process. Even if it’s served as a product to a customer, it’s always created with fine motions and the hope of conveying said effort to the customer through a cup of Greek coffee.”

“This sounds more like a confession of love to me.” Wonwoo comments and you are happy the lighting is dim enough to hide the creeping blush on your cheeks.

“Well, that’s one way to put it.” You set the coffee pot on the table and take out two small porcelain cups from the box.

“That’s really pretty.”

“Thanks. I got them as a souvenir from a local shop, along with the briki.”

“The what?”

“That’s the greek word for the coffee pot! They use this specific one because it’s the best at storing the heat in its walls and allowing the coffee to roast slowly.”

“I stand corrected. This is a ritual of love, not just a confession.” He chuckles at your excitement.

That’s why I’m doing it, you four-eyed hot bastard! You mentally scream but keep your smiley facade on.

“Why did you get only two of these?” He keeps asking you questions.

“The old lady at the shop had made only two of those.” You explain. “But she did think I was buying it for my boyfriend and myself.” You end your sentence with an awkward laugh.

“I think that’s adorable, Y/N.” He rests his hand on his palm, almost

“It would be, if I had a real boyfriend.”

“Well, you can always share a cup with your work husband.”

You raise your eyebrow. “Are you jealous, Wonwoo?”

“Me? No, not at all.” He brushes it off. “I just mentioned Chan because you’re really close to him.”

“Hmm, if you say so.” You shrug.

A beat of awkward silence passes and Wonwoo attempts to shift the mood to his favor.

“Can you guide me? Making the coffee, I mean.” He almost stutters.

“O-Oh, of course I can!” You slide behind him and watch him tighten his apron around his slender waist. Since when did he have such a slender waist?!

He picks up a teaspoon and puts four spoonfuls in the water, turning on the heat.

“The heat should be medium to low. Stir it only at the beginning and then let it heat through.”

He gives the coffee a few stirs to evenly spread the blend in the water, until it starts heating up.

“Be careful not to stir the coffee all the time, while it is roasting. Give a little bit more love and attention to create the right amount of kaimaki.” You give him gentle directions and he follows them to the last detail.

“What is kaimaki?”

“It’s the creamy foam that forms on top of the coffee after brewing it.”

“It’s dark brown because of the blend?”

“Exactly. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?” You give him a sly smile.

“I have a great teacher.” He reciprocates the smile and your heart skips a bit for the umpteenth time today.

Watching him brew such a difficult type of coffee with his sleeves rolled up and his deft hands carefully looking at the kaimaki makes the butterflies in your stomach dance like a hurricane.

Everything feels so intimate - from the cafe itself to the set of porcelain cups you bought as a memento from Greece, the words of the old lady who thought you bought them for a lover echoing in your head once again.

“I am turning the gas off now.” Wonwoo announces and you nod affirmatively. He does as he said and picks up the briki, but he accidentally touches the side of it and almost burns his hand.

“Fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You gasp and immediately grasp his hands, knocking down the coffee and spilling it over the counter. “Are your hands okay?!”

“I’m okay, but-”

“Oh shit.” You curse and grab a bunch of paper towels to wipe the spilled coffee before it seeps into the wood.

He notices the coffee reaching up to the base of the cups and he picks them up, putting them in the sink to wash them. He washes and dries them thoroughly, followed by the copper coffee pot.

Hurried movements and a curse of strings are heard through the glass wall, the eyes of multiple cats staring at the two of you trying to clean up the mess you made.

After a few minutes, the counter looks as good as new, but both of you look frustrated and even more tired than before.

“Well, this was an ordeal.” You let out a huff as you throw the wasted paper towels in the bin and hang your apron next to the others.

“Y/N, I am really sorry.” Wonwoo sulks, not daring to look you in the eyes.

“Wonu, it’s okay! It was just an accident, accidents happen all the time here.” You try to make him feel better.

“But you were looking forward to this-”

“Wonwoo.” You stop him from completing his sentence. “It’s okay. I am not mad at you.” You gingerly hold his face with your hands, the rate of your heart reaching Mach speed because of the heat on his skin.

You realize you’re too close for comfort and retract your hands, scared you might have overstepped his boundaries.

“Don’t.”

Wonwoo holds your wrists with his hands and gently places them on his chest. He can feel your fingertips almost trembling, the tension skyrocketing.

“Wonu, I don’t understand-”

He gently holds the side of your neck and kisses you with the desire he was holding for the past two months. He lets go of his uncertainty and embraces his feelings for you, expressing them through this kiss.

It feels like you’re in a fever dream, every fiber of your existence is standing on the edge of inferno and you don’t want it to stop. Yet his mouth feels like an oasis - and you won’t let anything separate you from it.

You let out a whine when Wonwoo breaks the kiss, but you shudder when he rips his glasses off his face and lifts you up to put you on top of the counter.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to feel your touch on me, Y/N.” He rasps. “You’ve been plaguing my thoughts ever since I met you and I just couldn’t-”

You cut him off by pulling the collar of his shirt and smash your lips on him again, seizing control this time. You wrap your legs around his waist and jerk his body forward, colliding with your chest.

Your hands are deeply rooted in his permed locks, raking your nails on his scalp. He’s no better than you, his palms glued to your thighs.

“I’ve been feeling the exact same way, Wonu.” You moan against his mouth.

“God, please don’t stop calling me that.”

“I had no intention of stopping, Wonu.”

He breaks the kiss again and pushes you on your back, planting his hands on each side of your head.

“Please tell me you want this.” He begs you. “I want, need to touch you, take care of you, fucking worship you.”

“Do it. Please do it, Wonu, I need you so bad.”

He lets out a shaky breath and unbuttons the first three buttons of his shirt and bunches up your sweater to reveal the hem of your jeans and unbutton it with the same dexterity he uses his camera. He pulls them down and lets the fabric pool in front of his feet, his hands caressing your naked legs.

“Pretty.” He fiddles with the lacey details of your panties.

“Me or my underwear?”

“Both.”

“Smooth. But as much as I’d love you to sweet talk, I think you should do other things with your mouth.”

“Your wish is my command, sunshine.”

Wonwoo puts your legs over his shoulders and tenderly traces his lips on your inner thighs, giving you a glance before sliding your panties to the side.

He gives your clit a quick peck and glides his tongue through your folds, all the way down to your entrance. And repeats the motion, again and again, speeding up with each drag of his wet muscle.

You drag your nails on the mahogany counter and bite your bottom lip to suppress your moans, but his mouth is being so kind and loving to your pussy that it makes you want to scream his name until the windows crash in tiny pieces from the volume of your voice.

He stops to take a breather, a glossy film coating his lips. “Best fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

“Never thought the shy photographer slash barista would be cursing after eating pussy like a God.” You laugh breathlessly.

“I can do much more, if you let me.” He suggests with a gaze full of desire, lips parted again and ready to engulf your clit again.

“I will, but not here.” You put your hand in his hair to stop him. “I don’t want to risk being seen by bypassing people.”

“I don’t know about people, but there are a bunch of cats staring from the glass wall.” Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you gasp when you turn your head towards the window and you see thirteen pairs of glowing cat eyes staring at the two of you.

“I love them but they are fucking scaring me right now, can we please get out of here?” You ask him.

“My place or yours?” Wonwoo picks up your jeans and gives them to you to put them on.

“Mine is a twenty-minute ride with the bus from here.” You say.

“My place it is, then.” Wonwoo grins as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Hope you aren’t scared of motorbikes.”

“Would you laugh if I said I’ve been thinking of being your backpack princess?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I brought an extra helmet just in case you wanted to be my backpack princess?”

“Who are you and what have you done to the cute and super shy Wonwoo?” You shoot him a playful glare.

“He’s still here. He just decided to act according to his desires and feelings.”

“I would like you to pass him my earnest thanks.”

“He accepts them with pleasure. Ready to go?” He offers you his hand.

“Yes sir.” You giggle and button your jeans, lacing your hand with his, as he guides you out of the cafe.

You make sure you turn off the lights and lock the doors before Wonwoo hands you over the extra helmet, checking up on whether you fastened it good enough. As soon as you settle on the bike behind him, he turns on the engine and grabs your arms, putting them around his waist, as if he’s telling you to hold on tight. You let out a squeal when he speeds away from the cafe, but the helmet around your head mutes your voice. Even though it’s your first time riding on a bike, you’re not scared at all. If anything, you find it very fun and kind of liberating.

Perhaps it’s the fact that Wonwoo reciprocated your feelings after two months of mutual pining.

You don’t even realize how fast the time passes when Wonwoo taps your hands to let go of him and get off the bike.

“W-We’re here already?” You ask dumbfounded as you take off the helmet.

“Baby, I wasn’t even speeding up.” He chuckles as he turns off the engine of the bike, taking off his own helmet. “But it’s for the better, I suppose.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it means you’re looking forward to what will happen within that house.” He smirks in your face and you grab his hand, pulling him towards the entrance.

“You’re so eager.” He’s trying to fish out his keys from his bag.

“I wonder whose fault is that.” You tease him.

“I intend to make it up to you, sweetheart.” He reassures you and finds the keys after a bit of searching, sliding them in the keyhole to unlock the door.

As soon as both of you are inside his house, you pin him on the door and kiss him hungrily, your hands sliding off your coat first and his jacket second, aiming for his buttoned shirt next.

“Bedroom, please.” Wonwoo breaks the kiss and you nod in agreement. He lifts you up in his arms, his arms under your thighs keeping you safe.

You’re certain he’s gonna pin you down on the bed, but you’re proven wrong when he pins you on the nearest bedroom wall, grinding his clothed bulge right on your crotch.

“Didn’t peg you for the needy type.” You grip his shoulders to hold onto him tighter.

“How can I not be needy when I have the girl of my dreams right where I want her?” He groans and lets down your legs, hands flying to the button of your jeans. “Can I?”

“Fuck yes, please throw them away if you can.” You breathe heavily.

He eagerly unbuttons your jeans and drags them down along with your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room. He then unbuttons his own jeans, dropping them down to his ankles with his boxers and kicking them away. He’s just one thrust away from entering you, but his mind goes blank.

“Wonwoo? What’s wrong?”

“I- Fuck, I don’t have any condoms.” He curses under his breath.

“It’s okay. I am clean and on the pill, you can go raw.” You reassure him.

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too! Are you clean?”

“Yeah, I got tested two weeks ago and haven’t slept with someone for God knows how long.” He blurts out, cheeks flushed a cute pink.

“You’re so cute.” You stifle a laugh.

“You and your pussy are cuter than me, darling.” He laughs and hooks his forearms under your thighs to pry them open and keep them locked closed to your chest. The wall is cold against your back, but the rest of your body feels on fire.

You let out a whiny moan when Wonwoo starts by pushing the tip of his cock, taking his time to ease himself inside you and not hurt you. When he finally manages to fit his shaft in your hole, he throws his head back and his mouth falls open, deep moans vibrating from his chest.

“You’re- Oh god, Wonwoo, it feels so full.” You dig your nails in his shoulder blades, bunching up the dress shirt.

“Fuuuuck, I know.” He groans and pulls his hips away until only his tip is inside you, pushing back with a fluid thrust. A gasp escapes your lips when the thrust makes your body jerk up against the wall.

“Ah- Please do that again.” You beg, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“Shit, with pleasure.” He licks his bottom lip and thrusts inside you the same way, his eyes glued on your face to study your expressions.

He gets the green light when you nod in agreement and repeats the same thrusting pattern, full-bodied yet slow thrusts that rub your molten walls deliciously.

None of you are able to form coherent sentences, you only express yourselves through wanton moans. You feel your skin getting sticky with sweat and your orgasm starting to build up dangerously close to the climax.

“Are you close, sunshine?” He asks you between pants and you nod furiously.

“Hold on tight.” He instructs you and you claw on him like a rescued cat as he lifts you from the wall and walks over to the bed, gently placing you on your back on the mattress.

“W-Wonu, please, I need to cum!” You hiccup and try to wrap your legs around his waist.

“I know, baby, I know.” He puts one knee on the mattress and angles your hips upwards to hit it deeper. He bends his torso down to touch your chest, his lips hovering over yours as his breath mingles with yours.

“Wanna cum together, sunshine?”

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside, fuck, do it inside!”

Wonwoo gasps loudly and loses his balance, crumbling on you at the same time his orgasm crashes upon him. His back shudders while his cock paints your walls white and your lips are busy kissing and biting his neck to muffle your own orgasmic noises. Your walls clench around his cock and you milk him dry until he has nothing else to give, breathing against his neck rapidly.

Both of you take some time and remain still, your breaths slowly regaining their normal rhythms. You can feel your body complaining, legs growing limp and your torso being crushed by Wonwoo’s weight.

“Wonu, you’re heavy…”

“Fuck, sorry.” He gently lifts himself off you and his cock slips out of your pussy, the mixture of your cum and his nearly spilling on the sheets. He’s fast enough to catch it with his fingers and push it back inside you, enjoying the way you shudder for him/

“Wonu!”

“I couldn’t help it, sunshine. Not when you look so pretty.” He sucks his fingers clean. “And taste so damn good.”

“Can you just…clean me up?”

“You didn’t even have to tell me.”

He picks you up in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom, letting you sit on the edge of the tub as he lets the water from the tap run warm.

“Do you mind if I fall asleep in the process?” You mumble tiredly.

“Not at all, sweetheart. I’ll take care of everything, you don’t have to worry.” He presses a kiss on your temple.

“Thank you, Wonu.”

You end up falling asleep halfway through the bath, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind. The lovesick grin on his face doesn’t falter until he’s done drying your hair and putting you in a pair of clean comfy clothes - his clothes.

As soon as you’re under the bedsheets, you cling onto him in your sleep, chest rising and falling peacefully in his arms.

Wonwoo can’t believe this is real, even if he can touch your face and hug you closer to his body.

There is one thing coursing through his mind before drifting off to sleep - Seokmin was right after all.

Your deep slumber is disturbed by the ringtone of your phone and you grumble in your sleep to find the strength and get up to search for your phone. You nearly fall down on your knees when you try to stand up, grabbing the edge of the bed at the last minute to stabilize yourself.

“Nngh……Baby? What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks with a scratchy voice, in a similar state as you.

“Someone is calling me and I don’t know where the hell my phone is!” You curse out loud as you keep searching under the pile of clothes.

Your phone stops ringing and you plop down on the floor dramatically.

“Y/N, it was just a phone call.” Wonwoo tries to reassure you as he gets out of bed.

“But what if it was something important?”

“Then whoever it was, they will probably call again.”

Suddenly, it hits you.

“Wonwoo, what time is it?” You ask him with fear in your eyes.

“I don’t know, let me check real quick.” He walks back to his nightstand and opens the screen of his phone, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing from his mouth.

“Wonwoo?”

“I don’t want you to panic, but it’s 10AM.” He deadpans.

“Fuck, I knew it! We’re fucking late to work!” You spring up on your feet and pick up your clothes, making a beeline for the bathroom.

You splash water over your face and almost squeal when you notice the vibrant purple marks on your neck and collarbones, mortified at the thought of someone seeing them.

“Baby, are you good there?” Wonwoo yells from the bedroom.

“No! I need a fucking turtleneck!” You yell back and stomp your way back to the bedroom.

“Okay but why?” He peeks his head from the closet and takes a better look at your torso. “Yeah, forget I asked.” He purses his lips and picks a cream colored turtleneck, giving it to you.

“God, I love you so much.” You breathe a sigh of relief and immediately put it on, running back to the bathroom. The scent of cedar and peaches gives you a hard time to focus on making your hair look presentable, but you resist the urge to duck your nose under the soft fabric.

Wonwoo does a double take on himself and decides to go with a black turtleneck, his eyes shying away from the marks you left on him last night. However, part of him feels very smug about them, knowing he’s gonna be walking in the cafe with your marks of claim all over his body.

“Come on, stop dwindling, we’re gonna be even more late!” You appear in front of him again and pull on his sleeve repeatedly.

“Oh my God, stop pulling me!” He laughs at your desperation and follows you to the living room, picking up his coat from yesterday.

About half an hour after riding on Wonwoo’s motorbike and some annoying traffic, you both make it safely into the cafe. You’re welcomed by a very frustrated Chan and the new barista intern, struggling with the coffee machine.

“And here I thought you actually ditched work today.” He gives you a smile full of irony.

“I’m really sorry, Chan, I slept through my alarm clock. I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You defend yourself with a lie while fastening your apron to get to work.

“Whatever you say.” He sighs. “Just…get to work, I’m so fucking done with this monstrosity.”

You quickly greet the new intern with a warm smile and turn your back on the two men to focus on the training at hand.

Wonwoo begins to put his camera together, checking his equipment. He can feel Chan’s scrutinizing gaze on him.

“For how long are you going to keep burning holes in my back?” The older man asks.

“Until you admit that you spent the night with Y/N.” Chan crosses his arms in front of his chest.

Wonwoo puts his camera down and straightens his back, now towering over the guy.

“Yeah, I did. Want me to tell you how exactly we spent our night?”

“No need, I was able to put two and two together when I came here and cleaned up the entire place.” Chan pinches the bridge of his nose.

“My patience ran thin and so did hers, I guess you already know how things went down.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Well it was about fucking time, dude.” Chan pats Wonwoo’s shoulder. “You were blueballing the poor girl for two months now and I was starting to feel that way as well.”

Chan goes to the outer space of the cafe, leaving Wonwoo utterly stunned. The younger man gets a few orders from the early customers and makes a beeline for the window seats of the cats, bypassing the table Joshua is sitting on.

“I am so sorry, darlings. I hope none of you were traumatized from whatever vulgarities you witnessed last night.” He pets them one by one, cooing at them as if they were his own kids.

“Why are you trying to console the cats?” The older man asks.

“If I were to tell you, you’d need consolation as well.”

“Do I smell work gossip?”

“More like work porn.”

Joshua puts his hand over his mouth like a gossip girl, his eyes shining like those of an imp.

“Don’t tell me-”

“Yeah, they did.”

“Damn, I gotta give it to your intuition.”

“How about giving me a fucking break already?!” Chan whispers in frustration.

“What, you saw cum on the floor or something?” Joshua jokes, but the waiter’s expression is stone-cold.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Fucking try me, Shua.”

He turns his head around and watches you and Wonwoo giggling together, his face turning back to his friend.

“At least your work wife is happy now.”

Chan smiles gently as he leans against the wall.

“That she definitely is.”

#svthub #svthub.collab #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo smut #wonwoo crack #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt fluff #svt smut #svt crack #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen crack #seventeen #tw alcohol

2K notes · View notes

biteyoubiteme · 10 days ago

Text

bitten

beomgyu x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s been a century since the last youve seen him, why come back now?

warnings: 🔞!!! vampire!beomgyu, vampire!reader, mentions of blood, blood drinking, biting, angst, mentions of a break up,mentions of bite mark scars, a bit of soulmate trope, oral (f!rec), no protection,mentions of subspace, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3.8k (now this flung the 2k limit out the window )

an: thank you for the request! I hope that this captured the essence of the request because vamp!gyu was consuming my thoughts after I read those lines. I love vampire fics and im so sad I don't have more on my page already and this was the perfect time to add one. not proofread im so sorry my sweet angel darlings have mercy on me and forgive me of any mistakes found.

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

The bar was dark enough to keep the bruised necks and wrists of the occasional lost traveler hidden. Spots of blood dripped onto crisp white shirts scenting the air in coppery sweetness. It was a sickening smell to those who didn't need to feed, the alcohol keeping the rest of the occupants held over enough to ignore the twinge.

You didn't come to places like this often, the back room filled with half-drunk vampires and humans, desperately grasping at each other as they took from one another. Even the drinks didn't call to you, not when he wasn't standing there behind the bar passing them to you, constantly working his eyes up your body like a desperate plea to have even a taste. He hadn't been turned then, not when you first met. The pull towards you always accounted for the fact you were tainted with blood lust. A moth to a flame, he felt that pull, your hunger enough to send him right into the fire without even glancing at him.

It wasn't often that a human found themselves offering their bodies up to vampires. Most of them felt the hair rise on the back of their necks, the prickling of fear telling them that whoever was standing just round the corner was a wolf in perfectly tailored sheeps clothing, how tight that human look held onto you after your change. The uncanny glow seeping that poisonous warning off in waves, a trap waiting for the truly reckless to trip.

The ones who wandered closer instead of away always found themselves in the back of bars like this, bruised and hazy eyed laying in beds done up in silk and candlelight. Beomgyu, although working behind the bar for years knew never to offer himself up to the ones who sunk his stomach, that warning to run ringing in his ears as he slid a drink across the hardwood. But you, the second the door had pushed open and your skin washed in that low down glow, tripped him up; your waiting trap snapping shut around him like a rib cage around fluttering lungs. Even the echo of fading hoof beats on stone sounded so close to the beating of his heart that he couldn't tell the difference between flight and flush.

But that had been years ago, so many that you couldn't even remember the shade of his irises. You remember they were brown, staring up at ceilings casing empty houses trying and failing to conger up the image. Well over a century's worth of time to hate yourself for forgetting the one thing that drew you in at first glance. But it wasn't as if you didn't try to work your way through the fading memories of him, all flickering by like the passing pages of a notebook you forgot you wrote and held so dearly. All you could see was that empty bed, the sugary taste of his blood still on your tongue, your breast still tender from where he bit you over your heart, so hard the soft outline of his teeth, like a stain you desperately wanted to rid yourself of.

You had come here, back to this bar only three times after he had left to check in. That night with tears in your eyes, heart crumbling, the second taehyun had confessed that beomgyu was gone, packed up with only a shrugged goodbye. “He said he doesn't know when he will be back,”

You had waited ten years to return the next time, so little time when you counted decades like snowflakes, not the glass shattering hail you assumed beomgyu would have still thought of as a recently turned fledgling. But no one had seen him, heard from him, hardly even thought of him. But he plagued you, ran around your head until you could taste the blood coming from overworked joints.

The third time was no better, not when you entered and Taehyun shook his head, apologizing for a friend he wouldn't recognize anymore.

You had given up, moved away, and swore to never think about beomgyu and his puppy stare. That follow you everywhere look that seeped into your bones and begged you to never turn away from him. Only now you were back, sitting in the far corner you fell in love, sinking into the leather seat wishing you could have that first glance back.

Taehyun felt pity when he saw you, knew that you had been locked away in some house countries away, only sending in orders for blood long since cold. He poured you a glass, the same drink you asked for with tears in your eyes that first night back alone, chugging so many of them back he's sure your blood tasted of fire, too sour, burning all the way down one's throat.

“Thank you,” neither of you wanted to bring Beomgyu up but he was the first thing on both of your minds.

“He hasn't-”

“I don't care,” you tossed back your drink, the ripples of mixed in blood making your fangs tingle, ready to push through soft gums and piece flesh not yet provided. It's why you came. Tired of the empty flavored pints of blood brought to you by Soobin and his sorry eyes. You hadn't put your mouth on anyone since that night, not even when it felt as if you had been scooped out with a spoon, carved open, and laid bare from hunger. If it wasn't him you would have nobody.

But that declaration was a century ago, so many cold cups later it was tiring to swallow another. “I want a girl, preferably quiet, business only,” Taehyun nodded to your order, already knowing the best pick.

“Room 615, she can be brought back in about thirty minutes,” there was no room for judgment, not after the years of working behind this counter, sneaking into those beds just like everyone else had. But he knew what it took from someone who hated to drink from a vein, it's why they had the services, those who couldn't go out and find someone or someones to keep up a constant full belly.

But human blood wasn't the same as drinking from a vampire, humans went out too quickly, blinking back their faintness, never able to take more than a few deep pulls before they were at capacity. Feeding from vampires was anything but a rush, that first mouthful was a wash of exhilaration. It made one dependent on each other, one taste and it was never the same. Taehyun could tell Beomgyu and you drank from each other. Could see it in the years after, the way you turned your nose up even at the bitter drink in your glass.

You would never feel full again unless you had him back.

Thirty minutes was enough time to go home and call soobin for a late night order. But your hunger was clawing up your throat, nails on a chalkboard begging for anything else. Having the time to think, sitting here, filled your mouth with the memory of him. Not just the taste of his blood but the faint drum of his turned heartbeat. You still remember the sound his human heart made. The way it pattered at the sight of you, that irregular beat speeding up every time you sat down in front of him, entered through the cherrywood door.

How even after you had turned him his heart still acted as if it was tied to your presence, fluttering weakly even if it was all it could muster.

It was that sound that made you turn, conjured up from memory only now to show up right behind you. Taehyun was frozen, face pale at the sight of his lost friend. He had only seen him once or twice after he had been turned but now he was no half human fledgling.

Beomgyu and you were caught in a web of your own disastrous weaving, stuck in place witnessing the crumbling of love because seeing him only settled the grievances you held into stone.

He wasn't hollow like you were, empty from the time left alone, the bloodlust having fully settled over his skin making him shine in that uncanny beauty. Everything about his gentle human features has been frozen in place, the warmth in his brown eyes only enhanced in the light. How sickening to have to now face the reality of what you had done to him, what he must have run from once he realized he couldn't truly love the monster who infected him.

It wasn't the butterflies of newfound love but sickening maggots wriggling in your stomach. You stumbled as you stood, not even worrying about the key taehyun had left for you next to your drink, not even a meal could keep you from running as far as you could.

It had been too long for him to come back when you had given up on trying to wait for him. How many nights had been spent waiting for this exact moment? Only now for you to run away. How cruel fate could be.

He was calling your name, that twinge of hurt mixed in with something close to pity, every syllable weaved through with the words, no, don't do this, don't make me feel sorry. Even his voice made you waver, the back and forth shake of your head confusing you as you walked down the wrong hallway.

Even through the doors, you could smell the blood from the occupants behind them, like overripe fruit left to sit on the counter, nothing smelled the same after one drop from him. And now with Beomgyu right behind you, weak heartbeat still mimicking that first sight, it was impossible not to pinpoint the smell of him. Wrapping around you like fog; a haze you tried desperately to claw your way out of but you knew it was no use. You had never felt so hungry until then, carved clean through with the need.

“Please, let me explain,” he tried, grasping at straws. He didn't intend to see you first, only planned on catching up with Taehyun and apologizing for leaving him behind without answers. Save this conversation for when he built up the courage. “Please,”

His fingertips only brushed your arm, the shock of it going right down to your toes. It was instinct to turn and slap his hand away, and even in your exasperated exhale, that first acknowledgment was enough to make Beomgyu weak again, as if he had ever been anything but when attached to you. “What is there to explain? You left, you left me there, alone in our bed,”

“I-” The words were stuck in his mouth, hanging right at the edge of his tongue and yet all that came up was a frustrated laugh, “well did you miss me?” even just hearing his own words he could tell you would fume.

“Did I mi- you left me! You fucking left me, if anything now I just hate you,”

It was so easy to fall back into it with you, as if you had woken up alone a few days ago not centuries, “look what you did to me. What I've become, don't act as if you're so innocent in this, don't blame me for decisions we both made,”

The words felt like a slap in the face. That night you had turned him so clear in your mind, the way he had begged, the way he had burned. It was one of the hardest things you had ever done, most vampires went their whole lifetime without infecting anyone because of how hard it was to complete and yet you had.

“I turned you after you asked me. Do you know how much it takes? And then like some love-sick fool, I drank from you and every day I think about how stupid I was to believe you would stay. After I left behind everything I knew just so that I could have some human boy stay with me. How pathetic,” the last word was thick, sticking to your throat and pulling your tears forward. “You should go back to wherever you ran away to, climb into some feeders bed to keep warm for all I care,”

You turned, ready to close the door on a life you wished you had. The one you begged for after nights spent alone clinging to the sheets that still smelled of him. But Beomgyu wouldn't have it, his grip tight on your wrist as he pulled you back, “It was never about changing me, I left because I wanted to know if it was real- that intensity was so…consuming, I was scared and so I ran. I ran and I looked for some way to replicate it because I'm a fucking fool who can't see right in front of himself. You made me addicted to you, I begged you to do this to me and yet I ran. Im sorry,”

“You can say that but you stayed away so long I'm sure you found some poor soul to swallow down by the mouthful,” he could feel your resentment coiling around him, snapping back at his desperate attempt to explain. Because there was no way for him to get the words out, even after running them around his head for the years he had lost all because of his own fear.

That night was stuck right behind his eyelids, replaying over and over. Your body pressed to his, soundlessly sleeping as he looked up at your shared canopy bed. Your blood was still singing through his body, staining his perception of life before you. He didn't know he could be so utterly infected by someone so much so that it colored his sky differently. Your soft breathing was enough to tear him apart, he wanted countless nights spent exactly like that one, just watching you, listening to you sleep. And it scared him. He thought humans had been over-emotional, feeling things as they came, wallowing in them because they had little time to let it spread out. But he was wrong, he hadn't known how full the world felt, how full he was after one drop of love from you. And now he was empty, starved clean from his own doing. “I was ashamed,”

The confession was so quiet matching your question, “And now?”

Beomgyu looked up from under his lashes, he was close enough now that your scent was suffocating him, begging him to give in and just sink his teeth right over your heart. Find the same place they had last been because no one had been able to tempt him to even pull his fangs down, not since you. “And now I'm starving,”

Even just the word from his mouth made your fangs ache. You had been getting by on so little for so long. He was the only thing your body needed and you knew he must feel the same. Your mouth was filled with saliva, that venom that numbed prey or set them ablaze. You tried to swallow but you could already taste him, the movement of your throat making his eyes zero in on your pulse. You were no better watching his adam’s apple bob, connecting the dots on long since gone trails of hickeys you’d left before.

Neither of you knew who moved first, moaning against lips you were sure you’d never kiss again. His sweet venom singing on your tongue. His hands were heavy on your body, pulling you closer as he pushed you against the hallway wall. He wanted to melt into you, his desperation crawling up his skin, hips keeping you in place.

You chuckled into his mouth, the sound rattling in the back of his throat like a prayer he wanted to keep to himself. “You always did get hard from kissing,” his whimper in response is followed by the grind of his bulge against you. How fast his body reacted to your touch didn’t change when he did.

His heart was picking up speed, your fingers running through his hair, the groves of your fingertips slotting back into place amongst the strands. Beomgyu’s fangs were already elongating, nipping your bottom lip. He had always felt so good about his self-control, accounting those early days of overfeeding on you for the simple fact of being so recently changed, he should have known you were the variable that cracked the hold he had on himself. It was only worse now that he'd nicked you enough to mix blood into the kiss, his throaty moan rumbling against your body, sinking into your soul.

You're both stumbling to find a room, twisting knobs until you find an empty one. The silk bed envelops the both of you as you fall into it, peeling off layers of clothes. Beomgyu can smell your sweet arousal between your legs the second he's pushed them apart to kneel between.

“Now look at this,” you can feel the pad of his thumb running over the bite mark scars he's left on your inner thigh, his grin wicked enough to make your knees twitch. “I wonder if your pretty cunt will remember me as well as your skin has,”

“You're impossible to forget,” and when you expected him to bite you, following the pattern of his usual ravishing but he skipped it, shocking you with his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking deeply.

His mouth is on a direct line to your spine, your back arching off the bed. His tongue is hot on you, tracing the lines of your folds, and moaning into your slick. He missed these desperate whines you let slip, the perfect backtrack to the messy slurping sounds he's started. You hadn't even realized how much you had missed his mouth, your fingers twisting into his hair the second he brushed a fang against your swollen bud. He loved to tease but it had been too long since you felt your orgasm rise so fast.

Beomgyu was eating you like he missed your pussy, your stomach tightening, hips sinking into the sheets. It only takes a few more precise sucks with his puffy lips before your toes are curling, eyes rolling back as you cum for him. His chuckle vibrates against you before he pulls away, chin shining with your wetness. “I missed the taste of you,”

He hasn't even tried to find someone else to take care of his needs, not when he knew no other cunt could compare to the way yours perfectly molded to him, sucking him in to the hilt. The memory alone is what had him rushing to get inside of you, cock already leaking rivets of precum.

You've never felt so needy in your life, fangs and pussy aching for him. The drag of his tip from your clit to your weeping entrance makes your knees fall open. One of his hands guides himself to push into you and the other tenderly holds your hip in place. Your mouth drops open at the stretch, slow as he lets you take in the feeling, needing you to remember how full he kept you.

Beomgyu whines, breath quickening as he shoves in the last few inches. He lets his body fall onto yours, needing to be closer, needing to drag his lips over your neck, teeth scratching at your pulse, “say it again, tell me how much you hate me,”

But he knows you can hardly speak, your legs wrapping around him, arms pulling him down closer. “Shut up,” you gasp, his hips rolling against yours.

“then beg me,” he doesn’t even have to say for what. Not when your neck is rolling back to give him better access to your vein, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “If you don’t hate me, beg me to taste you. I know you remember how much I love to mix the flavor of your blood with your cum still in my mouth,”

As many times as he's crossed your mind, thinking about his fangs in your neck was something that would never compare to the moment they finally sunk in. You had never let anyone feed from you, not until he was there in front of you pleading. You were no better, not after you had changed him, needing to drain him of almost everything. But with one nod he was biting you.

Beomgyu’s mouth was flooded with your blood, the familiar flavor of iron mixed with the undercurrent of sweet delicacy. He’d dream about the first bite, mouth tingling, fangs brought forward on nothing but the memory of you. Now he was ravenous, so shocked by his own hunger with its pounding fists on nailed shut doors. His hips stuttered in his thrusting, caught on the ecstasy of quenched starvation.

You felt your mind slip into that hazy space, anything he asked would be answered, every action would be taken, and all you knew was him and him alone. To have that numbing venom injected into your bloodstream was enough to break even the strongest down into puddles of simmering whimpers.

It was hard to pull away and keep himself from overfeeding like he wished he could. But he felt his orgasm cresting, stomach flexing as his balls tightened. Beomgyu shoved his wrist to your waiting lips, your fangs stinging as they pierced his weak flesh. You drank deeply, thick swallows of the ichor you had prayed to get back on your tongue.

Everything was crashing down around you, beomgyu groaning as you clenched around him, fluttering walls sucking him in as you came, taking everything he had to give. He was a mess of moans, clinging to you as if that could keep him grounded when he felt this good. Every slow shallow thrust only pushes his cum further into you, still being pulled from him with every pulse of your greedy pussy.

Neither of you can believe how lost you had become, falling into each other like stars crashing into nothing but pooling darkness, so full of energy the only option was to collapse. And it's just what you did, twisting into each other's hold, beomgyu’s kisses pressed over the puncture marks he's made on you, nose brushing up and down your skin trying to keep your scent close.

Breathing evening you fought back the worry settling in. He had left before, walked right out the door without you knowing anything wrong had been on his mind, what was keeping him from doing it all over again?

“Stop thinking,” he muttered, mouth finding yours, mixing the flavors of your blood together as he kissed you. “I don't think I could find it in myself to ever leave again,” but he was pulling away, his playful smirk lingering on his lip cleansing your worrying mind if even for a movement. “How could I ever leave again after seeing how happy and full you are after only one round?” he pulled his still hard cock from you, the gush of cum slipping out, pooling on his ready fingers only to shove them right back into your waiting cunt. “No, nothing could keep me from this sight ever again,”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @chasingthatjjunie @no1likemybbgcharlie @beomiracles want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

#cams!1kevent #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt smut #yeonjun #soobin #taehyun #hueningkai

333 notes · View notes

becausebuckley · 1 month ago

Text

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 46!

another week, another rec list! before we dive in, though, i have a request: please have a look at this fic description and help anon find it!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

a lighthouse in the fog | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 6.8k | T

The one where Buck wakes up after surgery and realizes that Tommy doesn't meet his emotional needs. i love the descriptions of buck and what he's feeling and experiencing here!! so so good

all my little words | youbetsya/@fleabagdiaz | 11.4k | T

Eddie: Did you just send me an email?? Buck: yeah lol (in which buck and eddie email while eddie is in el paso). email correspondence my beloved!! i love how well this captures their voices and dynamic through emails and texts. such a lovely fic <3

a straight guy and an ally walk into a bar... | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 23.2k | M

After Buck gets dumped, he remembers he agreed to go to Abby's wedding with a date. Eddie steps up and pretends to be his boyfriend. All hell breaks loose. buddie fake dating!! shenanigans!! this is unhinged and also soft and i love it so much. the scene where taylor pops up had me laughing so hard. brilliant!

bad idea, right? | brewrosemilk/@gayhoediaz| 6.8k | E

Buck stumbles across Eddie's grindr profile. no no this is the BEST idea actually. the coding is brilliant, this looks so so good, and it's also just fantastically written!

darling (you're the one i want) | archerincombat | 2.5k | G

Eddie keeps buying Buck gifts and Buck keeps not getting the idea. friends to fiances! barnes and noble! flowers! this fic has everything!! loved reading this <3

giving way to labored breath | serenelystrange/@serenelystrange | 1.5k | T

In which falling in love was the easy part, and learning how to actually be together is another beast entirely. They work it out. blanket rec for an author whose work i've really been enjoying this week <3 this one in particular is such a brilliant look at buck and eddie getting together <3

i could give you fifty reasons | marviless/@marviless | 15.7k | T

buck is on a mission to help eddie recover his self-confidence. it goes well for exactly zero parties involved. this might not go well for anyone who's actually involved but it went very very well for me <3 i love buck being earnest and a little embarrassing and so very full of love for eddie!!

if you love me right, then who knows? | ipretendtobesane/@userbuddie | 3.4k | E

buck and eddie stumble upon a feminization kink, and eddie really likes his boyfriend's tits. there's something about buddie playing around with feminisation that just hits so hard. this is so so good!!

love in the shock of lightning | justhockey | 4k | T

It was real. It had happened. It had happened to Buck, and to Eddie, and to see it again…to be confronted with it so abruptly, without any time to steel himself against the memories of that night? Eddie had almost collapsed to his knees then and there. hmmm yes spec fic we love to see it!! and stress baking! loveliest emotional hurt/comfort getting together fic <3

never seen a bluer sky | Chash/@ponyregrets | 1.9k | T

"Hey, what brings you joy?" Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper. buck and eddie finding joy my beloved <3 this hits the spot just right!!

promise you'll put your hand in my hand | farfromthstars/@doeeyeseddie | 4k | T

5 times buck and eddie hold hands platonically, and 1 time they don't. holding hands <3 so fluffy so sweet so so lovely <3

put on a slow dumb show for you | fleetinghearts/@shitouttabuck | 2.3k | T

they’re sleepy and a little drunk and buck’s one step behind. do i even need to say how much i love bed sharing fics? like i think you all know that by now lmao. anyway this one in particular hits that fluff and crack spot so perfectly and i love it so very much <3

since forever | @hotshotsxyz | 1.3k

the loveliest tumblr fic!! soft and sweet indeed <3 this eddie is brilliant!

skin still wet (still on my skin) | marrows | 6.2k | E

Buck’s hand is on his thigh. Eddie chokes on his beer, eyes fixed on the curl of Buck’s fingers, tucked in just above his knee to where his skin meets the sofa. He hadn’t noticed, how hadn’t he even noticed? 8xo6 codas haven't failed me yet lol and this is one of my favourites!! it follows the episode so naturally <3 also another appearance of buck's praise kink, my best friend yay

somebody i can kiss | Rianne/@rianneeyre | 7.9k | E

Buck might be a little touch-starved. And he knew that, but he was not prepared to deal with how the knowledge would interact with his newfound awareness of his crush on—no, realistically, his undying love for Eddie. [...] The point is, he should not spend Christmas on a fucking sleepover with Eddie. But he’s gonna. christmas sleepover <3 i for one cannot wait to drown in holiday fics soon and i already know i'll be revisiting this over the next few weeks. this is soft and spicy and just absolutely brilliant <3

take the bed warmed by the body | lecornergirl/@clusterbuck | 2.5k | T

It’s three parts bravado and one part reminder. He thinks about it, sometimes, his first shift at the 118—he doesn’t think either of them quite knew how much they’d meant it when they’d promised to have each other’s backs. He definitely hadn’t known, then, that he’d wake up one day and wonder why Buck isn’t in his bed. i love this twist on sharing a bed so very much <3 so brilliantly them!!

that kind of music just soothes the soul | KejfeBlintz/@kejfeblintz | 1.8k | G

Settling back into the corner of his couch with a happy sigh, Eddie let the fizz of excitement from his impromptu dance party hum beneath his skin. He had done something joyful for himself and had been rewarded with his best friend and a six pack of beer appearing on his doorstep. He’d danced and the world hadn’t ended. he'd danced and the world hadn't ended!! lovely episode coda and such a well-written eddie <3

through the looking glass | jukoist | 6.4k | G

Buck likes Tommy. He does! And he definitely isn't in love with Eddie. He's just... worried. Because Eddie keeps vanishing on Sundays, leaving Buck with the boyfriend he definitely likes as much as he should. Everything is fine. the dialogue in this fic is particularly great <3 lovely lovely fic!!

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic rec #911 abc #911 fic #911 fic rec #michelle’s recs #fic rec list #so many fics!!#it's been a good reading week #also! anon who asked for specific recs i gotcha <3 will share some when i have a moment to put them together!

295 notes · View notes

my-castles-crumbling · 11 months ago

Text

📝🦊Cas🏳‍🌈🎵 - they/them/she/he - queer - married

Click to view only Marauders/Harry Potter content Click to only view asks/advice

Decorate my tree!

Age: Over 21

Fandoms: Marauders with a side of drarry.

Ships: Jegulus, Jegulily, wolfstar, rosekiller, pandalily, dorlene, drarry.

Music: Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Olivia Rodrigo, Lana Del Ray, Hozier, Renee Rapp, Chappell Roan, Gracie Abrams

AO3: my_castlescrumbling

Writing: Requests open!

Link to list of crisis hotlines for many different countries Link to Marauders Knowledge Quiz Link to list of requests (requests are open)

***Please allow me 3-5 days to get back to advice asks! Remember to check back if you write anonymously, you won't be tagged. If I don't reply after 5 days, please resend, sometimes tumblr eats my inbox messages 🙄

(Also please note that I am not a professional. All advice is just one random person's opinion. When you send me an ask you are acknowledging I am not liable for whatever happens if you chose to listen to a random person on the internet 😋)

Please do not post any of my work on fanfiction.net/wattpad. I welcome collaboration, podfics, and translation with permission. I do not support the use of AI in fanfiction/fanart. I do not want to join any websites that involve writing fanfiction for pay.

If you are a minor, please do not interact with any content I mark explicit-minors DNI. This is for both my protection and yours.

Below the cut:

My ao3 Fics

My Microfics

Fic Recs

Request/reading boundaries

Advice/ask boundaries

LGBTQIA+ resources

Writing tips

Song covers

My ao3 Fics:

Note- I am writing all fic ratings. If you are a minor, please take heed. If the fic is rated E and you are a minor, do not interact with it.

AHHHH this got to long! Click here to go to my google doc version of my masterlist!

My Microfics:

Jegulus Microfic Archive

Wolfstar Microfic Archive

Rosekiller Microfic Archive

Jegulily Microfic Archive

Explicit Microfic Archive - Minors DNI

Kinktober Microfic Archive - Minors DNI

Fic Recommendations:

AHHHH guys this list got too long! Please click here for a link to a google doc I made with all recs!

Request/Reading Boundaries:

A lot of people have asked to send me things to read or requests for writing. I LOVE when people send me these things, but just a few boundaries:

No MCD

No incest

No illegal age gaps

No noncon, in any sense

No EDs, SH, or SI

Advice/Ask Boundaries:

Advice about sex (how-to, positions, etc)

Personal topics like my own intimate life, my own personal information (IRL name, names of family members, etc)

Topics that I am not educated on, or do not have a right to give my opinion on. While I am happy to talk and give advice about LGBTQIA+ issues, I am uncomfortable sharing my opinion on issues that I am still working to learn about, because I don't want to spread false information or be unintentionally hurtful. Also, since I hold a lot of privilege, there are certain topics that I would rather amplify the voices of others about, rather than taking up my own space.

LGBTQIA+ Resources:

Here are the websites I often link to when giving people advice. I'll add to these as I find more!

Need help? The Trevor Project has Crisis Counselors

The genderbread person- (sexual attraction versus gender versus romantic attraction)

List of nonbinary identities and definitions

List of ace identities and definitions

A highly-reviewed chest binder that ships to like a hundred countries

Pronouns explained

LGBTQIA+ travel safety guide- world

LBGTQIA+ rights/safety by state in US

United States LGBTQIA+ student rights

The Trevor Project- Sexual Orientation Information

The Trevor Project- Gender Identity Information

Pronoun closet (try different pronouns)

Writing Tips:

Write a lot.

Don't worry about mistakes or editing. Just write a lot to get your ideas out. Practice makes better, and writing a lot will help you gain confidence. You don't have to post it anywhere of you don't want to!

2. Try microfics!

Microfics are a great way to practice writing certain ships, or just practice in general. They're also lovely for getting a feel of posting! They're low-pressure and low-commitment, which is lovely!

3. Find people to write with.

Whether it's people online or in person, find people to talk about writing and write with. It's very motivating and helps hold you accountable.

4. Be gentle with yourself!

This is supposed to be fun. Don't beat yourself up or be too hard on yourself.

5. Write down your ideas.

Ideas come at weird times. Write them down, because you'll forget them.

Song Covers

Sometimes I sing...

People Watching - Conan Gray

Gravity - Sara Bareilles

Blank Space- Taylor Swift

Idontwannabeyouanymore- Billie Eilish

Sparks Fly - Taylor Swift

So Long, London - Taylor Swift

572 notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 10 months ago

Note

hey hey hey I love your work and was wondering if you could do some sort of dad Fernando fic that’s just him fussing over his family, something cute and fluffy yk (sorry this is super vague I’m to tired to think of details 😭)

- 🪐🌚

im so happy im getting nando requests - if y'all got any nando fic recs, pls send them this way

Fernando Alonso fucking loved his family.

Before his family, his life was racing. He did little else. Even in the off season he found a way to keep racing, even if it wasn't in an F1 car.

But then he started his family. He met a woman, took her on dates, and fell in love. Before they knew it they were getting married, dancing under the moonlight with her in a white gown and him in a pristine suit.

Three months later she found out she was expecting. The couple were so fucking happy. Fernando couldn't quite believe it. He had a wife and they were having a baby. His life was complete

Fernando's wife insisted that he kept racing, that he kept doing what he loved. He missed his family so fucking much while he travelled, but he knew they were only a phone call away.

Their daughters first word was 'box'. Actually, it was 'box, box, box, box, box', which traumatised poor young Charles Leclerc when he heard it.

When Emilia was three years old, they decided to take her to the first grand prix. She was a little star, wearing her Aston Martin hat. Her favourite part of the weekend was when her daddy took her to see uncle Jenson and he interviewed her.

The Aston Martin garage loved her, especially Lance. If he knew she was coming to a grand prix, he made sure he had some sort of gift for her. Lance might have been her favourite uncle, if only because he got her gifts.

The entirety of the paddock loved her. More so, they loved her Fernando was with her. He was still a ruthless, villainous killer on the track, but he had become so soft since she was born. Family life really suited him.

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso x reader smut #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #fa14 #fa14 imagine #fa14 x reader

530 notes · View notes

justabigassnerd · 1 month ago

Text

New Relationships

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 13.2K

Warnings - angst, arguing, swearing, fluff

Summary - you meet someone new, and while at first you don't get on... you soon change your tune

A/N - it's time for the return of Hangman Junior y'all! it's certainly been a long time coming and it's been so fun getting back into this universe! I do apologise if this fic isn't great I was trying my best lol. but I hope y'all enjoy (and don't worry I'm planning a follow up fic that'll go more into the stuff that happened at the end). as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

Growing up, Javy had always been a staple in your life. He was your dad’s best friend and he had played a huge part in your upbringing. You had even regularly spent nights at Javy’s house when your dad was away. With all the time you had spent with Javy, you thought you knew him better than most.

But you didn’t know that he had concealed a secret no one other than Jake knew about.

One day while Bradley was up in the air, training some of the newest recruits that had joined Top Gun, Jake was lounging in the rec room, listening to all the conversations happening up in the air on the small radio. Javy had been in the room but had to step out of the room when his phone began to ring.

“You got this, Bradley,” Jake muttered with a small smile as he listened to his husband explaining what flight exercise he and the other recruits would be doing. Jake had loved seeing how much Bradley’s confidence had grown since the uranium mission. He had stopped hesitating so much up in the air and had truly become a fighter pilot others would fear when in a dogfight.

As Jake listens carefully to the radio, chuckling to himself when he hears the cocky remarks from the new trainees who reminded him of himself, Javy comes back into the rec room, visibly shaken as he moves to sit down, collapsing on the couch opposite Jake who is instantly concerned about his best friend.

“Whoa, Coyote, what’s up man?” Jake asks worriedly, now distracted from listening to the radio and giving his best friend his full attention.

“I just got a call from CPS. Iris has been caught drunk and high in her house. They’re removing Mateo from her care and wanting him to move in with me.” Javy explains, propping his elbows on his lap and burying his face in his hands as he lets out a sigh.

“She what?” Jake asks, eyes wide in shock as he processes what Javy has just said to him.

“Apparently some teachers at school were concerned about Mateo and called CPS to investigate the house and they found Iris high as a kite with some random guy in the house while Mateo was nowhere to be found and Iris sure as hell had no idea where he was.” Javy elaborates, dropping his hands and looking at Jake who softens in sympathy for his best friend, getting up from where he was sitting and moving to sit next to Javy.

“Well, he’s gotta come out here, right? He shouldn’t be shoved into the system.” Jake says as if it was the most obvious answer.

“I know. They’ve said they want to call again later to figure out when will be best for him to fly out here. I just don’t know how to tell anyone about this.” Javy says quietly as he glances over at Jake, his eyes displaying every ounce of emotion he is feeling.

Javy had never been as open about his private life. He told the Daggers bits and pieces but he had closely guarded secrets that only Jake knew about. The biggest one of those secrets is his son Mateo.

Mateo was not much younger than you, only a few months give or take. Javy had been in college and met a pretty girl at a party. The alcohol in his system definitely helped aid the decision he made to sleep with her that night. A couple of weeks down the line, Iris discovered that she was pregnant and both she and Javy had made the joint decision to keep and raise their baby together as they continued their college journey. By the time they graduated, Mateo had been born and was a couple of months old. Iris was well aware of Javy’s intentions to join the Naval Academy and train to become an aviator but just as he began his training, they had a huge argument which led to Iris moving away and taking Mateo with her. It broke Javy’s heart to watch her take his son and leave, so much so that he opted to keep Mateo’s entire existence a secret to hide his heartbreak from everyone around him. After meeting Jake and discovering that Jake had a daughter of his own, he found himself inclined to open up about his son but made sure that Jake promised to keep this information a secret. And true to his word, Jake kept it a secret, even from Bradley and from you.

Javy had always made attempts to visit Mateo as he grew up. Every Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and birthday he’d travel to Utah in an attempt to spend some time with his son. Yet no matter how much he tried, Iris would refuse to let him spend a decent amount of time with Mateo, and he was never allowed to invite Mateo to spend time with him once he settled in Miramar. Javy just couldn’t make any sense of it. Half the time he was sure she didn’t care for their son but the moment Javy would mention visiting or paying for a flight so that Mateo could come to Miramar, she’d start claiming that she didn’t want her son to get hurt by Javy, seemingly ignoring the amount of effort Javy was willing to put in just for a short visit.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out together, okay? They already love y/n, so I can’t imagine any reason why they’d not love Mateo too.” Jake’s gentle voice shakes Javy from his thoughts, causing him to look over at Jake and offer him a soft smile.

“I don’t feel like I’m prepared for this,” Javy whispers, worry in his voice as Jake offers his friend a supportive smile moving to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Nothing could prepare you for this, but I’m going to help. Go and tell Maverick you’ve had a family emergency and that you need to head home, he’ll understand. Then go home and check out your spare room, text me a list of things you think you’ll need for the room for when Mateo arrives. And while you call CPS to organise Mateo moving out here, I’ll run by the store and then meet you at your house.” Jake says, explaining his thought-out plan as Javy nods, inhaling sharply before standing up and moving to exit the room. Upon realising that Jake wasn’t following him, Javy turned to look over at Jake.

“Are you not coming?” He asks, confused as to why Jake wasn’t coming when he had made it clear that he intended to join him.

“I’ll come along later. Bradley’s awful at checking his phone at work so I need to tell him what I’m doing face to face otherwise he’ll damn near have an aneurysm when he realises I’m not around. Just make sure Maverick knows I’ll be leaving too.” Jake says with a chuckle, waving his hand to dismiss Javy who nods before rushing out of the rec room in search of Maverick.

When Bradley had landed, Jake had rushed out to meet him on the tarmac, with Bradley beaming as Jake approached.

“It’s not often my husband meets me out on the tarmac. What’s up?” Bradley says as the two reach each other.

“Coyote’s had a last-minute family emergency so I’ve offered to help him out. I just wanted to let you know before I went off to help. I don’t need you panicking when you can’t find me.” Jake explains, watching as Bradley’s smile fades slightly in worry.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, concerned about Javy.

“I’ll explain everything when we’re both home, okay? I promise.” Jake says, keeping a small smile on his face to try to keep Bradley from worrying too much about what could be happening.

“Okay. I’ll see you later.” Bradley says with a sigh before leaning in to press a quick kiss to Jake’s lips to bid him a silent goodbye. After they break apart, Jake whispers a quiet goodbye before backing away and heading back into the building to gather up his things before heading out to his truck so he can head to the nearest store.

As Jake pulls into a parking spot, his phone buzzes with a message from Javy consisting of a list of things he needs Jake to buy in anticipation of Mateo’s arrival. As Jake enters the store, he begins to come up with a game plan to get in and out in as little time as possible so he can get back to Javy as quickly as possible. Jake went up and down each aisle, grabbing the things Javy needed, doing his best to pick things he thought a teenage boy would like. Jake picked up a couple of various plain coloured covers for the spare bed in Javy’s spare room, he grabbed some snacks he thought Mateo might like to try and make everything seem a little more homely. When Jake had finished shopping, he loaded all the bags into the backseats of his truck before getting behind the wheel and driving to Javy’s house.

Upon arriving at Javy’s house, he unloads the shopping and approaches the front door, knocking on the wooden door and waiting patiently for Javy to let him in.

“Thank you for doing this,” Javy says gratefully the moment he opens the door and sees Jake on the other side, stepping aside to allow him into the house.

“It’s no problem,” Jake says with a friendly smile as he follows Javy into the living room, both men unpacking the bags and sorting things while making quiet conversation.

“How much do I owe you?” Javy asks, reaching for the receipt he found at the bottom of one of the bags, stopping only when Jake snatches the piece of paper from the bag before Javy can reach it himself.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Jake says, beginning to fold the receipt up and holding it away from Javy as he attempts to reach out for it.

“Come on, man. You just went to the store and spent however much money on stuff for my son when you didn’t have to. I owe you.” Javy says, letting out a frustrated huff when Jake continues to hold the receipt out of reach and eventually tucking it into his pocket to conceal it from Javy as he softens.

“You’ll never owe me anything. You’ve looked after y/n more times than I can count. The least I can do is help you organise everything for when Mateo arrives.” Jake says gently, a supportive smile on his face as Javy smiles back, overwhelmed with gratefulness towards his friend.

“We should probably take all this stuff upstairs and start setting up his room. I called CPS and they told me he’d be flying out within the next couple of days, they’re just in the process of getting flights and sorting out everything he wants to bring with him.” Javy explains as the two men begin to head upstairs with some of the newly bought items.

“Whenever he flies out, I’m more than happy to help however you want me to. Give me a call and I’ll be there.” Jake promises as they reach the spare room, entering the room as Javy smiles appreciatively.

“Thank you, Jake,” Javy says, as he approaches the bed both men beginning to strip the old bedding off and replace it with the new things Jake had bought.

“Maybe when Mateo arrives you can take him to Home Depot or something and do up this room with colours and decorations that he’d want. That might help him settle in a little better.” Jake suggests as he puts a new cover on one of the pillows, fluffing it as he goes.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll offer it to him as an option when he arrives. I’ve taken a few days off work to make sure everything’s ready and to help Mateo settle in.” Javy says as he unfolds the new bedspread.

“Good plan. Having one-on-one time with you will surely help him settle in.” Jake agrees, taking the other half of the bedspread and helping Javy make the bed.

“Obviously I have to enrol him at a high school, y/n’s school should take him, right?” Javy asks, looking over at Jake who nods.

“They’ll be considerate of your circumstances I’m sure. They’re pretty used to accepting new students during the year. I’ll vouch for you if needed.” Jake says, confident that your high school would accept Mateo with little to no questions asked. The two men continue to finish setting up the room, making sure it’s clean and tidy in anticipation of Mateo’s upcoming arrival.

“Hey, maybe we could have a get-together when Mateo’s settled? Maybe a barbeque on the beach or something so he can get to know the Daggers.” Javy proposes, receiving an enthusiastic nod from Jake.

“That sounds good. It’ll give him a chance to get to know y/n as well before he’s tossed into school. He can at least then know one person when he starts school.” Jake says in agreement, focusing on making sure everything looks neat. When they finished preparing the room, they headed downstairs and Jake helped Javy organise the newly bought snacks, arranging them neatly in a basket to act as a warm welcome. Once everything is prepared, Javy walks Jake to the front door, thanking him with a large hug.

“I have no idea how to thank you, Jake.” Javy mumbles as the two men embrace.

“You don’t need to. You’ve been there for me more times than I can count. It’s my turn to be there for you.” Jake says softly, pulling away from the hug and squeezing Javy’s shoulder slightly with a supportive smile before they both bid each other goodbye and Jake makes his way out to his truck to head home.

When Jake gets home, he unlocks the door and is greeted by an enthusiastic Moose who bounds around Jake’s feet, whining for attention until Jake begins to pet him. After Moose begins to quiet down, Jake hears footsteps approaching and looks up to see Bradley entering the hall. Jake hadn’t anticipated Bradley being home already but he also knew he hadn’t been keeping track of time while at Javy’s.

“Hey,” Jake says softly, skirting around Moose and approaching Bradley to press a soft kiss on his lips.

“Hey. How’s Coyote?” Bradley asks after pulling away from the kiss, immediately wanting to know what was up and whether Javy is okay.

“Come on, let’s sit down and I’ll tell you everything. y/n’s out isn’t she?” Jake says, following Bradley into the living room with Moose on their heels, both men settling down on the couch as Moose hops up alongside them, laying his head in Jake’s lap.

“y/n said she was going to Lily’s house after school today, she won’t be back for a while I know she’s excited to see her again after so long,” Bradley confirms, remembering how you had told him that your friend Lily had been someone you knew when you were younger and had moved away from due to Jake’s job, as he focuses solely on Jake as he waits patiently for an explanation. As Jake talks, Bradley has his full attention on him, hanging on to his every word. He was shocked at the revelation that Javy had a son, but he could also understand why he had kept it a secret. After all, he’d kept his broken relationship with Maverick a secret from everyone when they all came back to Top Gun. Once Jake has finished talking, Bradley nods slightly in understanding.

“I get why Javy kept it a secret from everyone. And I’m more than willing to help out in any way I can when Mateo moves here. I’m sure y/n will be the same.” Bradley says, smiling supportively at Jake who nods.

“We’re trying to figure out when will be the best time to tell y/n. She’s known Javy all her life and this is a big piece of information to find out days away from Mateo’s arrival.” Jake explains, guilt written all over his face as he talks.

“Hey, she’ll understand. It might take a little while to come to terms with it but she’ll be there for Javy when it counts.” Bradley says reassuringly, reaching to squeeze Jake’s hand, both men smiling softly at the comfort of the contact.

By Friday afternoon, Mateo was due to fly to San Diego, Javy, Jake, and Bradley had come to the conclusion that it would be best that you knew about Mateo before he arrived so you’d have time to process the news.

“Dad, Uncle Javy is here!” You call through the house, after opening the door, smiling at Javy as Moose nudges the man, desperate for attention.

“Hey, Kit-Kat.” Javy greets, reaching out to ruffle your hair as you lightly grumble, swatting at his hand as he enters the house. Javy follows you into the living room where Jake and Bradley are just walking through the living room from the kitchen to meet Javy, all of the men smiling as they greet each other.

“Let’s sit down, shall we?” Bradley says, gesturing towards the couch as you sit down on the couch, your dads sitting on either side of you while Javy opts to sit on the armchair.

“What did you guys need to talk about? It’s not bad is it?” You ask worriedly, eyes flicking between each man as if you could tell what they might talk about judging by their reactions.

“It’s not bad, promise,” Jake says softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his side to comfort you.

“Well, what is it then?” You ask, looking over at Javy who sighs lightly, resting his arms on his legs and squeezing his hands together as he prepares himself to speak.

“This might be a shock to hear but… I have a son.” Javy says quickly, looking up at you as your eyebrows furrowed, trying to make sense of what you just heard.

“What? Since when?” You ask, confused at the news.

“Since before I met your dad. We had Mateo while I was in my last year of college, and just as I was preparing to go to the Naval Academy, his mother and I got into a pretty nasty argument to the point she took Mateo and left. I tried my best to visit him on holidays or just whenever I could but let’s just say Iris wasn’t very welcoming. But long story short, Iris has been caught being an inappropriate guardian for Mateo and I’ve offered to be his guardian. He’s flying out here tomorrow.” Javy explains, studying your reaction carefully as you finally look at him.

“Why didn’t I know?” You ask quietly. Deep down you knew it was unreasonable to ask, but you had known Javy for so long that you were shocked that you had never known.

“How long have you two known?” You ask, turning on Jake and Bradley who exchange sad glances.

“I’ve known since Javy and I became friends. Bradley only found out a couple of days ago.” Jake explains softly, his heart breaking at the look on your face.

“So you said he’s flying out tomorrow?” You ask, steeling your expression and turning back to Javy who nods.

“Yeah, we were thinking on Sunday we’d have a barbeque or something on the beach as a welcome party so he could get to know everyone.” Javy then says, continuing to watch your reactions as you nod, your mood significantly dampened even as you try to hide it.

“That sounds like a good idea.” You say, a forced smile on your face as you nod before getting to your feet and heading up to your room with a quiet goodbye. The moment you’re out of the room, Javy’s head drops, a sigh escaping his lips.

“She hates me,” Javy says quietly, his heart hurting that he had upset you.

“She doesn’t hate you. It’s just a big piece of news to process. I bet you any money that by Sunday she’ll have come around. She just needs a little bit of time.” Jake assures Javy softly, both he and Bradley watching Javy carefully as he nods quietly.

“I should probably head home. Mateo flies in pretty early tomorrow and I want to make sure everything’s all ready for him. Some stuff has already been shipped over so I want to make sure things are organised.” Javy says, lifting his head and rising to his feet, Jake and Bradley mirroring his actions.

“Do you need any help with anything?” Bradley asks, watching Javy carefully as he shakes his head.

“No. Thank you, though. It’s just the last few things I need to sort out before tomorrow. Then we’ll meet up on Sunday, okay?” Javy says before he heads over to the door, both men following behind him.

“We’ll see you on Sunday. Give us a call if you need anything.” Jake says, both he and Bradley bidding Javy goodbye with friendly hugs, watching him make his way down the driveway and walk in the direction of his house with sad smiles on their faces, only hoping that you’d processed the news and be back to normal, and that you’d get on with Mateo when he arrived.

The next day, you decided to head down to the beach, wanting to take advantage of the sunny weather so you could spend time with Lily. You had been overjoyed when she walked into your classroom, indicating that she had moved to San Diego and after a catch-up, the two of you were acting like you’d never been apart.

“So, beach day?” Lily asks, getting in the passenger seat of your car, your Honda Fit had been fixed up after the rear ending accident and you were back to driving around like nothing had happened.

“Beach day.” You confirm with a smile, driving off from where you had parked just outside Lily’s house to pick her up.

“It’s definitely the perfect day to tan. Ooh, and I bet there will be some hot guys there too.” Lily grins, glancing over at you as you roll your eyes.

“Seriously? Is that all you care about? Boys?” You tease, your focus never shifting from the road as you drive, the journey to the beach one you had memorised quickly and easily.

“I mean it’s the weekend. Everyone will want to be at the beach over the weekend.” Lily then says, wiggling her eyebrows as you sigh with a laugh. When you find a place to park, you and Lily get out of your car, grab your beach gear and head down to the beach.

The two of you lounge on beach towels, chatting to each other, continuing to catch each other up on what you have missed in each other’s lives. You even dared to head into the ocean and splash around before heading to one of the nearby diners to have something to eat. After eating you and Lily head back outside to spend a couple more hours sunbathing before heading home.

When the two of you finally called it quits and decided to head home after spending a good few hours at the beach, you and Lily began to make your way back to your car, smiles on your faces as you talked.

“So, did you have a good time?” You query as the two of you near the small parking lot.

“The best. The beach is gorgeous, and there were loads of cute guys.” Lily gushes, clinging to your arm as you laugh.

“Glad you were impressed.” You say as you roll your eyes, already digging into your bag to grab your car keys.

“I’m easily impressed and that hasn’t changed, okay?” Lily giggles as the two of you round the corner to enter the parking lot a roar of a motorbike engine entering the parking lot, stopping dead in front of your car, making your jaw drop slightly when they don’t move, even when you make it obvious that you needed to get out.

“Hey, Asshat! I need to get out so you need to move.” You demand firmly as the biker turns their head to look at you lifting their hands to pull off their helmet.

“I’m sorry, Darling. Did you say something?” The mystery biker says, a shit-eating grin on his face as he places his helmet in front of him, resting his arms on it and leaning forward slightly.

“I did, Asshat. You’re parked right in front of my car and I need to get out. There are spots for motorbikes right over there.” You say firmly, glaring at the biker, studying him as he scoffs. He had dark skin, brown eyes, and short-cropped hair on the sides as the hair on top was beginning to grow out, the tight curls becoming obvious. You honestly might’ve found him attractive had he not been a massive asshole.

“It’s a free country is it not?” He then says, raising an eyebrow as he smirks at how easily you were getting riled up.

“Not when it comes to blocking me in. Just move your bike five feet to the right so I can get out. It’s hardly a big deal.” You say, exasperated by his attitude.

“I don’t know, Darling. I’m quite happy parking my bike here. If you were a good driver you could get around me.” He says, patting his helmet lightly, his smirk widening when he sees you huff. You then see Lily step forward to try to calm things down but you hold a hand up to stop her before focusing back on the guy in front of you.

“This is literally the quietest parking lot, find any spot that’s not you parking directly in front of my car and blocking me in.” You say, your frustration growing as he refuses to move.

“What’s in it for me?” He says teasingly, making you clench your jaw in an attempt to hold yourself back from punching him in the face.

“What’s in it for you? I won’t punch you in the face, how about that?” You offer, raising an eyebrow as you fold your arms across your chest.

“Threatening assault? Didn’t know you had that in you, Darling.” The biker grins, unfazed by your threats.

“Will you stop calling me that?” You say, your eyes narrowing as you glare at him, your anger continuing to bubble within you.

“What, you don’t like it when I call you Darling? I’m just trying to be nice.” He says with a light shrug, his clear mocking of you driving you more insane.

“Last chance, Asshat. Move the bike. We just want to leave, you can have the spot, or you can park where you are right now again. Frankly, I don’t care, just let us out.” You say, your patience wearing incredibly thin as you continue to glare, neither you nor the biker before you were willing to back down. Before another word could be spoken, you hear someone come up behind you.

“Is everything okay, here?” You hear someone ask, and you turn to see a middle-aged woman looking between you and the boy in front of you.

“Everything’s fine, thank you. This guy was just moving his bike out of the way so we could leave.” You say quickly before the guy has a chance to speak, grinning as you look over at him, challenging him to go against you now that there is a witness.

“If it pleases you, Darling. I’ll move the damn bike.” The guy says, eyes narrowed as he glares, his voice almost a spiteful hiss as he starts the engine of his bike up, putting his helmet on before roaring out of the parking lot, finally giving you the peace you had been craving.

“He wasn’t bothering you girls, was he?” The woman asks worriedly as you turn to face her.

“It was nothing we couldn’t handle.” You say with a laugh, waving your hand dismissively as the woman visibly relaxes at your words.

“Well, good on you. Take care of yourselves, girls.” The woman says softly, receiving a nod in response from both you and Lily before she turns to leave as you and Lily move to get into your car to head home.

“Man, he was such an ass.” You complain the moment your car door is closed, leaning back against your chair and letting out a sigh.

“Try not to let him get to you. You’re probably never going to see him again.” Lily offers softly, smiling as you nod, reaching to turn your key in the ignition.

“Good point. I’m not going to think about him any more.” You say, looking over at Lily with a smile, preparing to drive off.

However, despite your words. You had forgotten all about your promise to not think of him again.

“Hey, Sweetheart! How was the beach?” Jake asks with a large smile as you enter the living room, petting Moose who demands your attention.

“It was great until some asshat with a bike blocked me in and refused to move.” You say, already beginning to launch into a tangent about the events that had happened.

“He didn’t move?” Bradley asks, entering the living room from the kitchen, and handing Jake a coffee as he sits down with a drink of his own.

“Nope. I asked multiple times and he refused to move. He only moved when a woman showed up and asked if everything was okay. I think having an audience spooked him, but I’m not going to complain.” You say with a shrug, settling down on the armchair as Moose tries to force his way up onto the chair with you, ignoring your joking groans as he settles onto your lap.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him, anymore. You won’t see him again and you have other things you can focus on.” Jake says with a supportive smile as you nod.

“Lily said the same thing.” You agree with a smile.

“She’s a smart girl,” Bradley says with a smile.

“She always has been. I need to focus on tomorrow. We’re meeting Javy’s son, right?” You say, looking from Bradley to your dad as they both nod.

“That’s right. We’re having a get-together just outside the Hard Deck to welcome Mateo.” Jake confirms as you fight the urge to frown slightly.

“I owe Javy an apology for the way I reacted yesterday. That wasn’t fair on him.” You mumble, feeling embarrassed for the way you had acted.

“Hey, it was a big piece of news. Javy knows you weren’t being malicious in your reaction yesterday. Talk to him tomorrow and I’m sure the two of you will be fine.” Bradley then says, both he and Jake smiling softly as you nod.

“I agree with Bradley. You can talk to Javy and I’m sure the two of you will be back to normal in no time.” Jake agrees, getting nods from both you and Bradley.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow after I’ve met Mateo. I owe him an introduction since he’s new to town.” You say as you lean back against the armchair cushions, absentmindedly petting Moose.

“I can’t wait to meet Mateo. Him moving here means so much to Javy.” Jake says, thinking of all the times Javy had forlornly told him about Mateo and how he wanted to visit desperately.

“Well, if he’s anything like Javy. We’ll get along just fine.” You muse softly, exchanging soft smiles with your dads.

But when the next day came. You found yourself eating your previous words.

You, Jake, and Bradley arrived at the beach just outside the Hard Deck, jumping out of the truck with Moose alongside you and approaching where the Daggers had gathered outside.

“Do you see Javy?” You ask as you approach the group, searching for him so you can talk to him.

“He’s just over there, and that must be Mateo nearby,” Jake says, pointing out where Javy is before pointing at someone sitting at a nearby table with their back to you.

“I’m going to go and introduce myself.” You say with a smile, handing Moose’s leash to Jake and beginning to make your way across to where Mateo is sitting.

“Hey, you must be Mateo, I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself with a smile as Mateo turns to face you, your smile dropping the instant you realise that the guy sitting before you was the same biker from yesterday who had refused to move after blocking you in.

“I must admit I wasn’t expecting to see you around here again, Darling. I thought you’d be licking your wounds after you needed a grownup to fight your battle for you.” Mateo says snarkily, turning around to face you fully and leaning his back against the wooden table as he smirks.

“I didn’t need a grownup’s help, Asshat. I was doing perfectly fine without her.” You say angrily, silently wondering how someone as lovely as Javy had a son who acted like this.

“So you’re the daughter my dad kept raving about? Seems like his breath was wasted on your praises.” Mateo says, barely glancing over at Javy as he speaks before focusing back on you.

“You don’t know anything about me, Asshat.” You say, eyes narrowing into a lethal glare.

“I know you’re my dad’s best friend’s kid. You’re going to the same school I’m being forced to go to, and my dad practically kisses the ground you walk upon. Anyone would think you’re his kid with the way he talks about you.” Mateo says with a roll of his eyes, his frustration evident in his voice.

“I forget, those little bits of information ensure you know absolutely everything about me.” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes in response as you fold your arms across your chest.

“I know more than you think, Darling. I’m not stupid, you know.” Mateo says, making you grit your teeth.

“You could’ve fooled me.” You say, your irritation reaching a breaking point. You then look around, locking eyes with Javy. You smile softly and take the opportunity to move away from Mateo to talk to Javy finally.

“Hey, Kit-Kat,” Javy says quietly as you approach him, his smile small yet genuine.

“Hey, Uncle Javy. I wanted to apologise for how I reacted the other day.” You say, fiddling with your fingers to try and calm yourself.

“You don’t need to apologise, y/n. I had kept a pretty big secret for a long time and it makes sense for you to need time to process the news.” Javy says with a gentle smile, reaching up to rest a hand on your shoulder, making your smile widen before you move to hug him an action Javy reciprocates in seconds.

“I do need to apologise. It wasn’t fair of me to act like I was entitled to that information. And I’m sorry for that.” You apologise as you hug Javy tightly.

“If anything I should apologise. I could see the way you and Mateo were interacting just a minute ago.” Javy mumbles embarrassed at his son's attitude that he had been on the receiving end of since Mateo arrived the day before.

“I thought he’d be a bit more like you in personality.” You admit with a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.

“I did too. Unfortunately, it seems he has a problem with me and no matter what I try, he won’t talk to me.” Javy admits softly, disappointed that Mateo won’t even give him the time of day.

“Maybe he needs some time. It’s been a big change for him and maybe he’s just lashing out because of it?” You offer as you pull away from the embrace slightly so you can look up at Javy.

“We’ll have to see,” Javy says softly, seemingly unconvinced by your words of support. Not knowing how to respond, you offer Javy one last hug before heading back over to Jake and Bradley.

“It looked like you and Mateo were getting into it. Is everything okay?” Jake asks the moment you reach their side.

“Turns out Mateo is the guy who blocked me in yesterday.” You say with a shrug, crouching down to pet Moose who greets you happily, tail swishing excitedly.

“That was Mateo?” Bradley asks, shocked as he looks across to where Mateo is sitting, unable to believe that Javy’s son would act in such a way.

“I think Javy needs someone to talk to, Dad. It seems Mateo is giving him some attitude and he might need someone to talk to about it.” You say, glancing over at Jake who nods, giving you Moose’s leash so he can cross to Javy.

“Hey, let’s hang out with the others, if Mateo doesn’t want to get involved then that’s his loss.” Bradley offers as you stand up, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you to where Mickey and Bob are standing nearby, drinks in hand as they converse.

“Hey, Hangman Junior!” Mickey greets you happily with a hug which you reciprocate quickly before moving to hug Bob.

“Hey, Mickey. Hey Bob. Have you guys met Mateo yet?” You greet the two men, looking between them as they nod slowly.

“He’s a bit… different to what I was expecting,” Mickey says awkwardly, eyes flicking across to where Mateo was sitting before looking back at you.

“Phoenix and I tried to introduce ourselves to him but we got the cold shoulder. It seemed like you managed to have a conversation with him though.” Bob says before taking a sip from his water, watching you carefully.

“Oh, that? No, it turns out Mateo was the ass who blocked me in at the beach yesterday and he decided to keep picking a fight with me. I don’t think we’re going to get on at all. He’s nothing like Javy.” You explain, shaking your head as you tell the story, making sure the men know that you’re not going to get along with him like you had previously thought.

“We can agree with you there. He is nothing like Coyote.” Mickey agrees as both he and Bob nod, everyone glancing over at Mateo and watching him curiously for a moment before turning back to each other to continue your conversations.

By the end of the get-together, Mateo had ended up disappearing much to everyone’s shock. The only person who wasn’t panicked at the revelation was Javy, who had dealt with him disappearing the day before and just defeatedly told everyone to head home, apologising for the way Mateo had been acting and for wasting everyone’s day. You had given Javy a big hug after hearing him say that, feeling bad that his own son wasn’t putting in the same effort he was to forge a relationship.

“Hey, would you like to come to ours for dinner? We could order some takeout or something?” Jake offers his friend softly, fighting back a frown as Javy shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s best I stay at home in case Mateo comes back. He may not want much to do with me but I don’t want him locked outside without any keys.” Javy says, his smile sad as he attempts to wave you and your dads off.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call us.” Bradley then says, reaching out to pat Javy’s shoulder lightly.

“Thank you,” Javy says softly before allowing you and your dads to make your way over to Jake’s truck so you can head home for the day. As your dad’s truck pulled away from the Hard Deck, all you could think about was how much Mateo was going to be a pain in your ass when he started at your school.

It turned out that your prediction had been correct, Mateo had joined your high school halfway through the week after the beach get-together and much to your dismay he had been put in most of your classes. You and Lily had tried your best to avoid him, and you constantly found yourself biting your tongue when he decided to bother you both during and in between classes.

“Hey, Darling. I thought I could feel a chill in the air.” Mateo teases from where he is leaning against a locker, a smirk on his lips as you glare at him.

“Do you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice, Asshat?” You say, not even stopping as you walk down the corridor, causing Mateo to push himself away from the locker and trail along behind you.

“I could ask you the same question. You’re the damn teacher's pet, not me.” Mateo says with a shrug as he continues to follow you.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t participate in class. I’d hate to have to prove you wrong in front of everyone.” You say, raising an eyebrow as you briefly glance his way, smirking to yourself.

“If that helps you sleep at night, Darling. You can think whatever you want.” Mateo says.

“How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?” You say lowly, stopping short in your tracks so you can turn to face Mateo who mimics your actions.

“I thought you liked it,” Mateo says, a fake pout on his face to irritate you further before breaking out into a smile when he achieves his goal.

“We don’t even have the same class now, can you just leave me alone?” You say, your irritation quickly reaching its peak as you begin to walk away.

“You’re no fun,” Mateo says before walking off, not noticing how you roll your eyes at his words.

“Why does he constantly bother me?” You complain to Lily as she joins you from her class.

“It’s because you argue back. You’re giving him what he wants.” Lily says with a shrug, ignoring how you huff in annoyance.

“If he stopped bothering me I wouldn’t need to fight back. He could make life easier for the both of us if he just shut up.” You say, turning to head into your next class with Lily following behind you, hoping that Mateo will stop bothering you.

When lunchtime arrived, you entered the cafeteria with Lily, chatting with her as you discussed your plans for next weekend. After you had grabbed a tray, you surveyed the busy cafeteria, you noticed Mateo sitting by himself and felt your heart sink slightly. Despite your frustration and lack of friendship with Mateo, you found yourself sympathetic to the fact that he had clearly been spending his time alone without anyone to talk to. Walking away from Lily, you make your way across the cafeteria towards the table Mateo is sitting at, placing your tray down and easing down into your chair.

“What are you doing here?” Mateo asks as soon as he looks up and realises it was you sitting opposite him.

“I saw you were sat alone and I thought I’d-”

“You thought you’d play the sympathetic hero and sit with the new kid, huh? Well, I haven’t got time to deal with you trying to make yourself feel better.” Mateo snaps accusingly, glaring at you with a ferocity you hadn’t seen from him since you had spoken at the beach.

“I wasn’t doing that-”

“I know exactly what you’re doing. You don’t give a shit about me. You just want to make yourself look good in front of everyone else. Just leave me the fuck alone.” Mateo growls angrily, making you grow angry, grabbing your tray and raising from your seat.

“Fine, have it your way. You’re never going to make friends with that shitty attitude of yours.” You say angrily, unable to believe the attitude you were getting for a kind gesture.

“I don’t need friends. I’m fine on my own.” Mateo says as you begin to walk away, not able to see how you roll your eyes, finding Lily sitting with some other girls in your grade and joining them instead.

“Did you really just try and sit with Mateo?” Lily asks as you settle in the seat opposite her, beginning to dig into your food.

“I thought I’d try and be nice. I know if I were sitting alone I’d want someone to take the step to sit with me. Turns out he didn’t want anything to do with me.” You say in between mouthfuls, glancing around at the girls around you who watch you sympathetically.

“I heard Zack tried to sit with him on his first day and he got cursed out pretty quickly. It’s clear he’s a loner and doesn’t like people.” Marcy says, recalling what a boy had told her before and frowning. Unable to voice the thoughts you had regarding Mateo’s outbursts, you found yourself nodding along to Marcy’s theory, glancing over your shoulder to where Mateo was sitting, watching as he ate his meal alone.

Over the next few days, Mateo started to be less annoying towards you and more standoffish. He didn’t bother you in classes or in the corridor. He’d barely spare you a glance if you and your dads were over at his house to check in on him and Javy. You had longed for the day when Mateo stopped bothering you but now that he had stopped, you found yourself missing his presence, no matter how much you complained about it. You also longed to learn what his problem with you was, you admitted that you hadn’t gotten off on the right foot with him but you had made an effort at school and he had brushed you off. Javy had told you to not worry about it, since he had been treating everyone around him like that no matter how hard he tried to forge a relationship with his son.

One day after school, you had been promised by your dad that he’d pick you up after school since your car had gone in for a service so you found yourself waiting outside your high school, alone as more and more people began to disappear home. It wasn’t until nearly everyone had left that you realised that Mateo was still around.

“I thought you would’ve hopped on your little bike and ridden off home by now.” You say, barely sparing Mateo a glance as you notice him sidling up alongside you.

“I could say the same for you. You haven’t driven home to daddy, yet?” Mateo says teasingly, his snark matching yours with practised ease.

“My car’s being serviced, what’s your excuse, Asshat? Or have you decided to start bugging me again?” You retort, glaring over at him briefly before focusing back on the road ahead of you, hoping that by some miracle your dad’s truck will pull up in front of you.

“That dad of mine confiscated my bike keys. Damn asshole said I apparently can’t be trusted so he told me I have to wait to be picked up like I’m a kid.” Mateo complains, making you grit your teeth at his words, enraged that he could speak in such a way about Javy.

“He has every right to treat you that way because quite frankly you are acting like a child and it’s ridiculous.” You say firmly, checking the time on your phone one more time and sighing at the time. Coming to the assumption that your dad had forgotten to pick you up, you made the executive decision to begin to walk home with Mateo beginning to trail after you.

“Why are you following me?” You complain, quickly noticing that Mateo is following you along the path.

“I’m walking home I’m not following you. It’s just unfortunate that we live so close together so I’m stuck walking with you.” Mateo says, an almost offended tone to his voice at your accusation.

“Well, if you could keep your mouth shut that would be great and maybe I won’t kill you on the way home.” You say, your grip tightening on your bag as you continue to walk, hoping that Mateo will get the hint.

“Again with the threats but no follow through. You’re all bark and no bite aren’t you, Darling?” Mateo says with a whistle, raising an eyebrow as you scoff.

“I can fight back if I need to. I just won’t stoop to that if I can help it.” You say, your eyes focused on where you are going so you wouldn’t give Mateo the satisfaction of looking at him as you begin to head through the park, grateful that if you continue to argue, people won’t be around to witness it.

“You’re just trying to sound tough. We all know you’d hide behind your daddy at any confrontation.” Mateo says, enjoying how quickly he is getting under your skin as you stop in your tracks, turning to face him.

“What exactly is your problem with me? I’ve tried to be nice and you keep pushing me away and acting like an asshole.” You ask, genuinely wanting an answer from him but not attempting to mask your anger in any way.

“It’s none of your business.” Mateo retorts, snapping quickly as you only grow angrier.

“It is my business. You have some sort of problem with me, and even more so, you have a problem with Javy who doesn’t deserve that treatment from you.” You say angrily, your voice raising.

“Of course, you’d defend him. You know, he was never around when I was younger. I was that kid who grew up with no dad and pretty much never had a mom either. You have no idea what it was like to go through that.” Mateo says angrily, taking a step closer to you as he talks.

“You’re not even giving him a chance. He’s really trying to make a bond with you. At least meet him halfway. You can hate me all you like but don’t hate Javy.” You say, fighting the urge to plead with the stubborn teen who stood before you.

“I never said I hated either of you,” Mateo said exasperated, running a hand through his short curls in his frustration.

“You’ve made it pretty clear that you hate everyone around you.” You say, not believing Mateo’s recently spoken words for a second.

“Now you’re just putting words into my mouth. I never said that.” Mateo says, rolling his eyes.

“Then why are you acting like you do? I’ve heard Javy telling my dad about how you treat him and it’s ruining him. You truly cannot see a good thing even if it’s standing right in front of you.” You say bitterly.

“Fuck it,” Mateo whispers before launching towards you, capturing your lips with his, taking you by surprise. Once the shock had worn off, you found yourself kissing him back, your hands reaching up to pull him closer as Mateo pushed you back until your back met a tree. You continued to kiss until the need for air got too much and you forced yourself to pull away, both you and Mateo panting slightly as you gazed into each other’s eyes, neither one of you knowing what to say.

“What was that?” You ask quietly, unable to remove your gaze from Mateo’s eyes.

“Proof I never hated you,” Mateo responds, swallowing thickly as he awaits your reaction. You remain standing in place, unable to form any coherent thoughts as you stare at the boy standing before you.

“I don’t know what to say…” You force out, your brain scrambling to make sense of the thousands of thoughts swimming around in your head.

“You hated it.” Mateo mumbles, beginning to pull away from you but you act quicker, cupping his face and pulling his lips back to yours. Much like you previously, Mateo was soon kissing you back once the shock wore off, forcing you back against the tree once more. This time when you pull apart, you manage to muster a smile.

“I can’t believe we just did that. Twice.” You admit with a laugh, getting the courage to briefly brush your thumb over the apple of Mateo’s cheek before dropping your hands.

“So you didn’t hate it?” Mateo asks, a small attempt at a smile gracing his lips.

“Do you need me to kiss you again to get the answer through your head?” You ask with a light laugh.

“Maybe.” Mateo muses, placing his hands on your middle to pull you into a third kiss, this time you are both prepared and able to enjoy the moment.

“Did that give you your answer?” You tease with a smile as you pull away enough to speak, your lips barely brushing up against his.

“It sure does, Darling,” Mateo says, his smile growing. Seeing his natural smile, one that wasn’t forced or teasing, made you realise just how pretty Mateo was. He looked so much more himself when he smiled and you wanted to see that smile from him even more.

“So, you never really hated me?” You ask, your eyes searching Mateo’s for an answer, in response, Mateo takes your hand softly and leads you to a nearby bench, both of you easing yourself down onto it.

“I never hated you. I mean sure, I thought you were annoying the first time you met, but I also loved how you weren’t afraid to back down against me. Finding out you were the one my dad talked about hurt, I won’t lie. He spoke about you like you were the greatest gift to mankind.” Mateo finds himself uncharacteristically willing to open up to you.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t exactly make you feel welcome. I was just so angry that you spoke in such a way about Javy.” You apologise, watching Mateo as he shakes his head.

“I was so jealous of you. You knew my dad better than I do. You got your whole life with him around and I didn’t get to see him at all.” Mateo continues, having to look away from you to conceal the threatening building tears.

“It’s not too late to get to know him.” You offer, your voice soft as you reach out to take Mateo’s hand in your own, causing him to turn and look at you.

“I knew if I let myself fall for you I’d have a problem.” Mateo manages to say, a teary laugh escaping him.

“A problem? That’s a bold thing to say after three kisses. What problem?” You ask with a light roll of your eyes.

“You’re too soft for your own good, Darling. I knew if I fell for you I’d get soft too. I’ve worked so hard to protect myself my whole life that I never thought I’d fall for someone. Trust you to swoop in and mess up my plans.” Mateo admits, blinking furiously to try and rid himself of his tears.

“There’s nothing wrong with letting people in. It took my dad a long time to learn that one and now he’s happier than ever.” You say softly, squeezing Mateo’s hand as you talk to offer him support.

“It’s just… scary. I’ve relied on myself for so long.” Mateo admits, the embarrassment covering his features as he reveals something he’d kept hidden for his whole life.

“Well, let’s take it slow, shall we? There’s no rush.” You offer quietly, doing your best to sound confident for Mateo’s sake. Slightly comforted by your words, Mateo carefully moves his hand so that he was now holding yours.

You and Mateo then decide to sit together on the bench for a little while, both still trying to wrap your heads around the sudden large advancement you had made in your dynamic. Neither of you felt the need to talk, you opted to spend your time getting used to each others presence more. After spending twenty minutes together in the park, you both decide to continue to make your way home, knowing that if you stay out too long you’ll be on the receiving end of multiple worried texts from your dad.

As you approach your house, you find yourself slowing down to try and spend even more time with Mateo, something he picks up on almost instantly.

“You okay?” Mateo asks with a concern you hadn’t heard from him before.

“I’m fine. I just want to do this before we get to my house. Can’t risk my dad’s seeing this.” You say quickly, turning to face Mateo and before he can even question you, you pull him into another quick kiss, both of you smiling softly as you pull away.

“Keeping this a secret, huh Darling?” Mateo teases, raising an eyebrow as you nod.

“If that’s okay with you. Just for now.” You say, studying Mateo’s reaction carefully, relaxing slightly when he nods in understanding.

“That’s fine. I don’t really think I’m on good enough terms with my dad to open up to him about anything like this just yet.” Mateo says, his voice soft as he watches you softly.

“Maybe you could try talking to Javy? Not about this of course but about everything else. Maybe you two will be able to have a fresh start and create a bond?” You suggest, watching as Mateo nods, albeit hesitantly.

“I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises,” Mateo says as you offer him a small nod and smile before you whisper a quiet goodbye to Mateo which he returns before you go your separate ways.

You make your way into your house, noticing how your dad’s truck is still absent from the driveway and rolling your eyes. While you were glad you and Mateo were able to make something good out of being left behind, you couldn’t deny that it didn’t annoy you that your dad had forgotten to pick you up from school, especially after he promised he’d do so. When you enter the house, you’re greeted by Moose who excitedly whines in greeting as you reach down to pet him.

“Hey y/n/n. Where’s Jake?” Bradley makes his way into the hall to greet you with a hug, quickly noticing his husband’s absence.

“You tell me. He never showed up so I had to walk home.” You grumble, your mood now significantly soured as you remember that your dad had forgotten you entirely.

“He what?” Bradley asks, eyes widening in shock at the mere thought of Jake forgetting to pick you up from school.

“Yeah, his promise meant absolutely nothing to him, didn’t it?” You say, beginning to beeline for the stairs with Moose following along behind you as Bradley watches you sadly.

By the time Jake had come home, you and Bradley had sat down for dinner and the smile that Bradley had managed to bring onto your face vanished the second you noticed your dad’s presence.

“Hey guys, what’s on the menu?” Jake asks with a large smile, completely ignorant of your lack of acknowledgement as he enters the kitchen.

“I put a plate for you in the oven to keep warm,” Bradley says, glancing over his shoulder to watch Jake who nods, thanking Bradley as he opens the oven and removes the dish.

“Have you had a good day at school, y/n/n?” Jake then says after placing his plate on the table, and ruffling your hair, missing the way you scowled at him as you fixed your hair while he settled in his seat.

“It was fine.” You mumble, stabbing at your food without removing your gaze from your plate.

“Are you sure? You sound a little annoyed. Was it Mateo again?” Jake asks, watching you carefully.

“Jake.” Bradley attempts to interject before you speak up.

“No, it wasn’t Mateo.” You say quickly, finding yourself leaping to Mateo’s defence, much to Jake’s surprise.

“Then what’s bothering you? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Jake offers, his voice soft as he watches you.

“Can I say you? You’re bothering me right now.” You say firmly, finally lifting your gaze from your plate to glare at your dad whose eyes widen slightly at your snappy tone.

“y/n.” Bradley then says, sensing the rising tension and trying to calm everything before an argument kicks off.

“What do you mean by this? Where has this attitude come from?” Jake asks, his voice raising as he grows angry at your attitude.

“It doesn’t matter.” You say dismissively, returning your focus to your plate, fighting the urge to stab your food more aggressively than you had been previously.

“It does matter when you’re giving me an attitude. I’ve had a long day at work and the last thing I need is my kid giving me an unwarranted attitude.” Jake says, putting his cutlery down as he addresses you. His eyes narrow as he glares at you, ignoring how Moose whimpered and lay down from his position near the table.

“I don’t think the attitude is unwarranted. You promised me that you’d pick me up from school today. You know the walk is long and my car is in for a service. You let me down and you come waltzing in acting like nothing is wrong.” You say bitterly, now rapidly losing your appetite and so putting your cutlery down and pushing your chair back, getting to your feet and leaving the table so you could head to your room with Moose rushing after you. After hearing your footsteps grow quieter, Bradley turns to look at Jake who is now sitting with a shocked expression.

“You couldn’t just leave it could you?” Bradley says, a disappointed tone to his voice as he talks, lifting his fork to his mouth to take a bite.

“She could’ve texted me. I would’ve dropped everything to pick her up.” Jake says, annoyed that you’d snapped at him over something you could’ve resolved in a simple text.

“She shouldn’t have had to, Jake. You had promised her that you were going to be there. You were the one worrying about the walk home in the first place. But you decided that going to the beach was more important, huh?” Bradley mutters, his irritation obvious, revealing that he had checked Jake’s location as he gets up from his seat, picking up both his plate and yours before putting the plates in the dishwasher.

“That’s not fair, Bradley. Javy needed someone to talk to and I stepped up.” Jake says, watching as his husband shakes his head softly.

“But you couldn’t offer your daughter the decency to tell her that you wouldn’t be coming? Jake, if you couldn’t pick her up I’m sure she would’ve been fine with it if you had just told her. She could’ve gotten a ride with a friend or taken the bus if you had given her a heads-up.” Bradley says, understanding why Jake had been unable to pick you up but disappointed that he couldn’t even tell you that he wasn’t coming.

“Bradley...” Jake says, now unable to formulate a response.

“Whatever apology you want to say. I’m not the person you should be saying it to.” Bradley says with a shake of his head as he makes his way out to the living room, leaving Jake alone to think over his words.

While Jake mulls over the words spoken to him, you’re curled up in your bed with Moose by your side, snuggling close to you as you stroke him softly, appreciating the dog’s comfort. As you mindlessly watch a random show on your laptop, you find your eyes being drawn towards your phone. You longed to text Mateo, to ask him if he wanted to meet up with you so you could get out of the house just ot get your mind off everything. But you didn’t have his number and you doubted that any of your friends would have his number. With no way to contact Mateo, you debate sneaking out to see him, thinking about whether it would be worth being questioned by Javy if you showed up at his door. Eventually, as you conclude that it wouldn’t be worth sneaking out, knowing that Javy would’ve more than likely informed your dad about you showing up at his house, the door to your room opens and you look up to see Bradley sticking his head in.

“Hey, Kid. Are you okay?” Bradley asks quietly, his smile gentle as ever as he watches you.

“I’m fine.” You mumble, returning your attention to the laptop in front of you as Moose whines softly, sensing your mood.

“I know you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to but, I am here if you need someone to talk to.” Bradley offers, not daring to cross the threshold into your room without permission.

“I’m not really in the mood to talk to anyone, but thank you, Bradley.” You say, lifting your head to look at Bradley with a small smile, making sure you let Bradley know that you were appreciative of his efforts.

“Well, you know where to find me if you need me,” Bradley says with a nod and a smile before leaving and closing the door behind him, allowing you to settle back into the pillow. Secretly, you did long to speak to someone, it’s just that Bradley wasn’t that someone right now.

By the time it grew dark and everyone was beginning to go to bed. Jake hadn’t made an effort to come to talk to you and in your stubbornness, you refused to be the one to give in so you remained in your room, listening with bated breath as Jake passed your room, hesitating for a brief second before continuing down the corridor to his bedroom. As you hear your dad walk away, you let out a small sigh of relief before curling up under your covers, closing your eyes and willing tomorrow to come faster.

The next morning, you managed to get up and out of the house without crossing paths with Jake, leaving you to walk once again to school since you weren’t scheduled to get your car back until the afternoon but after talking with Bradley, he had promised to swing by the garage to pick up your car, you had the confidence that he’d stick to his word and pick up your car before picking you up from school. By the time you arrived at school, you were searching for Mateo the moment you joined the crowds swarming the halls.

“Hey, Darling,” Mateo says as he sidles up alongside you, keeping his smile as suppressed as possible to avoid attracting attention.

“It’s good to see you.” You say softly, fighting the urge to reach out and pull him into a kiss.

“Getting soft on me already? Didn’t think it was possible.” Mateo teases, winking subtly as the two of you continue to make your way down the hall.

“Bring your ego back down to Earth I’m not getting soft.” You say with a roll of your eyes, shaking your head with a laugh as Mateo smirks.

“You say that now but I give you a few days before you soften up,” Mateo says, nudging you with a smirk.

“Nah, it’ll be you going soft first.” You insist, laughing softly as you walk side-by-side. As you reach your homeroom, you take your seat next to Lily while Mateo takes his seat at the back of the class.

“Were you talking with Mateo?” Lily asks, shocked as you settle into your seat.

“He was just asking some questions about something.” You say with a shrug, trying to deflect her question as she watches you suspiciously.

“And you gave him the time of day? You never do that.” Lily asks, confused as you lean back in your chair.

“I’m making an effort to be nice. He’s Javy’s son and I can’t exactly get rid of him since my dad is literally his best friend.” You say, hoping your explanation is enough to get her to back off. Thankfully, she hesitantly nods and focuses back on the schoolwork she was hurriedly trying to finish before classes started.

As the day progresses, you and Mateo continue to interact as subtly as possible, exchanging small smiles across rooms, and when walking in the corridors, Mateo’s hand brushes up against yours, neither one of you making the jump to hold each other’s hand, desperate to maintain the secrecy of your relationship. You were aware of the side-eyed stares you were both getting from other people in the halls, but you didn’t let them bother you. At the back of your mind, you were still dwelling on the argument you had with your dad the evening before, still wondering how you had been forgotten about so easily, and it was obvious that Mateo had picked up on your mood and decided to question you about it over lunch.

“So, what’s got you all gloomy. You’ve been trying to smile all day and it’s not convincing anyone.” Mateo asks, fork in hand as he watches your reaction.

“I’m fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You attempt to brush off his attempts to question you as you take a sip from your drink.

“You can lie to yourself but not to me, Darling. You think I don’t know what your real smile looks like? I’m an asshole, not stupid. So what’s up?” Mateo answers as if he was answering the easiest question in the world.

“Just a stupid argument I had with Dad last night.” You mumble, poking at your food with your fork, fighting the frown that threatened to tug on your lips.

“Dad’s are dicks, what’s new?” Mateo says, his lips turning up in a small smirk as you glare up at him.

“Not the time, Asshat.” You grumble as Mateo nods slightly, his eyes flicking down to his tray.

“Just trying to make a joke.” He mumbles.

“Dad and I don’t argue often. He forgot to pick me up yesterday and he couldn’t even send me a text to tell me why. He came waltzing in acting like nothing was wrong. It’s just not like him at all.” You say, your focus entirely on your plate as you talk, missing how Mateo rolled his eyes slightly at your words.

“My dad forgot me too. Shit happens, you know?” Mateo says as you glare up at him once more.

“Seriously? You asked what was bothering me and the moment I tell you, you make jokes?” You ask incredulously, shocked by his nonchalance.

“Look. I don’t have a relationship with my dad. You do. If you want to fix it, maybe you should take a page out of your own book and talk to him. You told me to try to talk things out with my old man. If you ask me, you just need to take your own advice.” Mateo replies, watching you as you pause briefly in your movement, looking back up at him with furrowed eyebrows. As you looked at him, Mateo shrugged lightly before continuing to eat his food and his words began to sink in slightly as you watched him.

“Mateo, I’m sorry.” You apologise, nearly missing how quickly Mateo looked at you, a look of slight shock on his face before he forced himself to smile.

“Don’t apologise,” Mateo says with a shake of his head as he focuses back on his food, continuing to eat as you continue to think over his words.

By the time the end of the day had come, you had carefully planned out an apology after thinking about how Mateo talked some sense into you. As you made your way out of the school with Lily by your side after bidding a secret goodbye to Mateo where you both finally exchanged numbers, you saw your car parked outside and assuming Bradley was the one driving it, you walked over with as smile that only faltered slightly when you opened the passenger side door and saw your dad inside instead.

“Hi, Dad.” You mumble quietly as you get into the passenger seat, shoving your backpack into the footwell in front of you.

“Hi, y/n/n,” Jake replies with a small smile, waiting for you to plug in your seatbelt before beginning the drive home.

“I thought Bradley was picking me up after grabbing the car.” You ask, trying to hide any potential attitude in your voice.

“I thought I should do it. I let you down yesterday and I should do something to make up for it.” Jake responds, his eyes fixed firmly on the road as he drives.

“I didn’t mean to get mad last night.” You begin, glancing over at your dad as you talk.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologise. I had promised I’d pick you up and I let you down. If anyone should be apologising here it should be me.” Jake says, looking over at you as he stops in front of a red light.

“I didn’t even stick around to hear if you had a reason for why you hadn’t picked me up.” You say, feeling bad about your treatment towards your dad.

“It’s okay, y/n. I owed you a text at the very least. Javy asked me if we could talk after work and I completely forgot about everything else, I just wanted to make sure Javy was okay.” Jake explains, feeling awful that he had so quickly dropped everything to help his best friend while forgetting about his daughter in the process.

“Is Javy okay?” You ask worriedly, your attention now shifted at the mention of Javy.

“He’s okay. I think Mateo has been giving him a bit of a hard time and he just wanted some support.” Jake explains and you find yourself focusing on the surroundings zipping by you instead of looking at your dad. You had suggested to Mateo that he attempt to form some kind of bond with Javy and you could only hope that you were able to get through to him.

“Sorry. I didn’t realise Javy was struggling. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” You apologise once more, barely able to look over at your dad as he shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, it’s fine. It’s on me for letting you down. I think your anger was warranted.” Jake says with a small smile, briefly glancing over at you as you nod slightly.

“I’m still sorry. I hope Javy is doing okay.” You say softly as Jake turns the car down the road your house is on.

“I spoke to him at work today, he seemed happier. He told me Mateo made the effort to talk to him last night over dinner.” Jake says as you smile lightly, relieved to hear that Mateo has listened to what you said and tried talking to his dad. After Jake had parked on the driveway, you both get out of the car and before Jake could begin to head towards the front door, you round the car quickly and trap your dad in a hug, holding him tightly.

“I love you, Dad.” You say as Jake wraps his arms around you, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you too, y/n. Are we good now?” Jake replies softly, pulling away slightly so he can look down at you.

“We’re good now.” You confirm with a smile, hugging your dad one last time before you pull away and head into the house where Bradley is standing in the hall with a smile and folded arms.

“Have you two finally made up now?” Bradley asks, quirking an eyebrow as the two of you nod lightly, smiles gracing all of your faces.

“We have,” Jake says, crossing to Bradley to press a soft kiss to his lips while you take your shoes off and excuse yourself to your room, claiming to want to do homework but all you wanted to do was text Mateo, leaving your dad’s downstairs.

Over time, your relationship with Mateo began to develop. You found it difficult, constantly having to sneak around when you were at school or around your parents. You had decided to make it known that you and Mateo were now on friendlier terms, but you had to keep your PDA on the down low and you often found yourselves having to go around to each other’s houses if you knew you had an empty house.

However, thinking you were alone ended up being the reason you both got caught.

“Hey, Darling.” Mateo greeted you at the door before you even got the chance to knock on the front door.

“Hey, Asshat.” You say teasingly barely stepping through the door before Mateo’s lips connect with yours, his hands reaching for your waist to pull you closer, slamming the door behind you the moment you cross the threshold.

You decided to forgo heading upstairs so you went into the living room, your lips barely pulling apart as the two of you strumbled through the house before you ended up on the couch. The two of you continued to make out, only pulling apart for brief seconds for air before reconnecting your lips, your arms wound around Mateo’s neck, attempting to pull him closer while Mateo’s hands tangled in your hair. The two of you were oblivious to the world around you, in your head it was just you and Mateo and nothing else mattered. What you didn’t acknowledge, was the sound of the keys in the door and the sound of the door opening.

“What the hell is going on here?” You both leap apart at the sound of Javy’s shocked voice, your eyes wide as you look over at him.

“I… we…” you start, glancing from Mateo to Javy and then back again.

“I mean is it not obvious? You do have eyes.” Mateo answers as if he were answering a simple question, leaning back against the couch, one arm lying along the back behind you as if he were waiting for an opportunity to hold you.

“I could do without the attitude, Mateo.” Javy exhales, his hand coming up to rub at his brow, already beginning to feel a headache forming.

“I’m not wrong, am I?” Mateo says with a shrug.

“How long has this been going on?” Javy asks, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“A couple of weeks?” You reply, your answer coming more as a question as you sheepishly watch Javy who sighs.

“You know what? I’m not going to question you any more. I just wanted to come home and grab something. I’ll leave you alone. Just… be safe if you’re going to do anything.” Javy says pointing at the two of you as you feel your face heat up while Mateo rolls his eyes and Javy grabs what he had forgotten and makes his way towards the front door to make his exit.

As Javy exits the house and makes his way towards his car, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, typing a message to Jake.

‘Did you know our kids were dating?’

At the sound of his phone buzzing, Jake grabs his phone off the table, glancing up at Bradley apologetically before looking down at his phone, his eyebrows furrowing before he flipped his phone around to show Bradley.

“What the hell?”

taglist (comment or ask to be tagged):

@zbeez-outlet @kaceywithak @tsnelf7 @starkleila @cassadilasworld @shanimallina87 @madstxo @chaoticassidy @padsdarlg @lauraseresin @alohastitch0626 @angelbabyange @kmc1989

168 notes · View notes

harryshouseenthusiast · 1 month ago

Text

Here are some ficrec masterlist !! I’m also making this for myself because I’m always looking for things to read!! If y’all know anymore masterlist I can add lmk❤️❤️

Thank you to all these lovely people for constructing these❤️ maybe one day I will have the patience to do this 😭

I’m also making it my pinned post so it’s easily accessible for you guys and me’

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #masterlist #harry styles blurb #harry #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic

132 notes · View notes

pedgito · 29 days ago

Text

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | Lucien De Leon x reader

summary | it was never a favor, allowing him to take up space in your apartment. but, time after time, he finds his way back and somehow, it brings an unexpected normalcy to your life.

author's note | in my heart, it's still flores. but canonically its de leon. i had the opportunity to watch the movie and hot take, it was...alright. but pedro's character made me just as feral as i expected. so here's this absolute monster for no reason other than, well, me ovulating.

content warning | 18+ mdni, the uninvited spoilers, set post-movie, roommates to lovers, enemies to lovers, reader works in the film industry, financial hardship, shitty living situations, lucien is a schmooze and a drunk, but also a sweetheart, angst, feelings, reader has shit luck with dating, there's also smut in here somewhere i swear (oral, couch sex, unprotected piv, all the good stuff)

word count — 11k (sorry lmfao)

“Lucien?” You grumble around the chewy granola bar you’ve snatched from the craft table, “Lucien De Leon?”

The agent, Lucien’s agent—James, also working for a few of the on-set cast, looked hopeless.

He nods, squeezing tight at the phone in his hand, one more inconvenience text from snapping it in half.

“No,” You refuse, chewing at the sweet and sticky granola, “why—why me? My tiny apartment?”

“He’s exhausted any other chance,” The agent explains vaguely—yeah, real convincing, this guy, “listen—I like you, you’ve helped me in plenty of binds. It’ll be two weeks before he’s leaving for work, I just need somewhere to keep him for a while.”

“You’re making it seem like I’d be dog sitting or something,” You retort, watching as the agent glanced down at his phone, notifications spilling in, “this is Lucien—controversy magnet, and he’s rude—”

“You’ve gotta get to know him—”

“The one set I’ve worked on with him he spilled my coffee on me and acted like I made him do it. Fuck him, tell him to sleep on a bench.”

“I’ll pay you,” He scrambles, “Just—please?”

You pause, narrowing your gaze. Being a production assistant hadn’t been the life of luxury, minimal pay in an overpriced city in a shitty apartment with barely decent and affordable rent was nothing short of miserable.

“How much?”

“A thousand,” He offers—a shrug of uncertainty follows.

Silence stretches.

“Two thousand? Come on–that’s a thousand for each week.”

“Make it three and you’ve got a deal.”

The agent is quiet for a few seconds before he caves, sighing heavily, “Fuck, fine. Three. Can I drop him off tonight?”

“Tonight?” You balk, “You know, you’re actually the worst.”

His hands grip your shoulders, shaking you with far too much force than needed, “You’re a lifesaver, thank you.”

He’s long gone and buried in a phone call before you grumble a disgruntled, “You’re welcome.”

You consider later that evening that disclosing the recent…activities around your apartment complex would have been a good idea, especially with someone as high profile as Lucien taking up space in your one bedroom apartment.

Three break-ins in the past two weeks, noisy and unruly neighbors both above and sandwiching you—it wasn’t exactly peaceful or safe, but it was something.

You wait with a creeping anxiety as you tap your chopsticks against the homemade ramen you’ve made for yourself, one true moment of happiness in the day as you’re finally sitting down to relax, feet aching terribly.

It was coffee runs and constant back and forths over forgotten supplies or paperwork—it was the perfect job to keep you active and on your toes, never sure when someone might blow up on you for whatever reason it may be—you were nothing special, helpful, but when it came down to it, you were more or less in the way, so you often made yourself small out of habit.

The knock that startles you is hurried, like a panic. It sends your heart rate skyrocketing but your name echoes on the other side of the door, scrambling to open the door, you’re faced with two men.

The agent, James, a decent man despite his unorganized and erratic personality—and Lucien, a piss poor disguise covering his face.

You snort, addressing the ball cap and sunglasses with an amused expression, it was doing nothing to cover the instantly recognizable wispy brown hair of his and aquiline nose—the upcoming king of stage and screen. It was a wonder he even made it here in one piece.

“A natural chameleon,” You joke, widening your door to let them inside—the apartment was clean, thankfully. You’d scramble to get home after work and pick up, given you didn’t have much time to actually prepare, “seriously—get inside before someone clocks you.”

The agent stays though, like his feet were planted.

“He’s all yours,” He tells you, “you’ve got my number—don’t let him leave. I’ll check in when I can. Keep an eye out for paps.”

“Hey, no—” You interject, watching as the agent turned on his heels and departed, “we didn’t agree to—”, turning the corner with a shout of a long, helpless, “that!”

You sigh with a deep frown, turning over your shoulder to find Lucien with a chopstick in hand, noodle dangling from the utensil with a curious face, sniffing it cautiously.

“Hey!” You chastise, plucking the chopstick from his fingers, “Stop that.”

He looks at you curiously, obviously taken aback by your tone of voice and lack of intimidation by him, like a startled cat.

Jesus, okay.

You force a calming breath through your nose and look up at him, “Would you like some?”

“Is it gluten free?” Lucien inquires, peering over your shoulder at the still steaming hot bowl of soup.

“Actually, yeah,” Your brow furrows, “it—it is.”

“Sure,” He shrugs, beginning to remove his cap and glasses, along with his jacket, resting them haphazardly on the kitchen island as he takes a seat on the only other unoccupied barstool in your kitchen.

“Oh no,” You swiftly rectify his actions, “we’re not doing this—there’s a coat rack for a reason and a shelf by the door for things like,” You walk toward the front door, hand circling the object like a cherished belonging, “keys—sunglasses, hats,” You stress the final two words and point at the items before jutting your thumb frustratingly at the door, “—if you don’t mind, while I make your dinner.”

It was clear he’s spent most of the past several years with people ready and waiting on him, never questioning or ordering around, but it was basic human decency, you weren’t going to allow him to be amiss to it.

He obliges quietly, a surprise to you. You hide the satisfied smirk as you pour the broth into the bowl along with the noodles before placing the bowl on his side of the island, placing another dish near him, scattered with different toppings.

Lucien looks silently intrigued, the ends of his mouth curling down in interest as he sprinkles various toppings over his food, beginning to eat silently as you return to your own meal.

After a long enough silence and Lucien’s occasional slurping you decide to set a hard boundary, given the various personalities you’ve dealt with in the industry, it was you being proactive out of habit.

“Let me be clear, I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” You inform him, locking eyes with his intense stare, something you hadn’t forgotten, not since the on-set incident, “This is still my home. Don’t be an asshole about it.”

“James said you were a firecracker,” Lucien smirks slightly, resting his chopsticks along the top of the bowl, “and a little bit of a bitch, but—”

“Good, he hasn’t lost his mind then.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a professional at this shit now. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Highly unlikely, you think.

He even makes a point by grabbing his bowl and emptying it before placing it in the sink before extending his hand out to your own bowl. You watch him wash the dishes, something that looks unnatural, but you aren’t going to complain.

“You always cook like that?” Lucien asks curiously over the running water, head turning over his shoulder briefly.

“No, only Friday. I never have time otherwise, work is…busy,” A generous way to describe it, but Lucien doesn’t seem to care or question, drying off the last dish before extending his hands out by his side in a grand gesture.

Maybe he was expecting a roaring applause, but you don’t give him the satisfaction. You offer him a genuine thank you but it doesn’t extend beyond that before you’re trailing a few feet over toward the living room, a clean pillow and blanket draped over the couch, along with a fitted sheet if he felt like using it. It was all unmade, allowing him to set it up himself.

“Also,” You clasp your hands together at your front, “James didn’t mention this because I didn’t tell him but we’ve had a string of break-ins for a while now, so—always keep the deadbolt locked. Please.”

His eyes widen, looking around the apartment for the quickest escape. You were on the seventh floor, the only other escape option was a less than reliable balcony that you barely used.

“I have a bat,” You tell him, before pointing toward the door beside the entrance, “in the shoe closet, but I think we’re okay.”

“Think?”

You shrug, “It hasn’t happened yet, but the police have shit response time around here.”

Lucien looks overwhelmed, but nods.

“Oh, and the neighbors like to have really loud sex—walls are thin. Have fun.”

“No puedo creer esta mierda—” He mumbles under his breath as you turn your back, a sharp flap of a sheet, and a short laugh from you follows.

“Blame your agent, Lucien.”

He didn’t think you’d understand him, but your astute hearing proved otherwise.

Lucien was putting on an act with his gesture, clearly.

He doesn’t respond, pouting his way through the process of setting up his new bed for the next couple weeks in silence, ignoring the soft click to your door as you turn in for the night, the creeping and soft city noises filtering in through the thin apartment walls.

It wouldn’t be an easy night but he's never really liked big, empty houses anyways.

—

The weekend is uneventful; you fear it might be a dream, too good to be true, a complete fluke.

Maybe he had a change of heart overnight, but Lucien is overly polite.

He deconstructs his bed both mornings, packing it away in a corner of the living room, listening to the television at a reasonable volume with fresh coffee in the coffee pot, he cleans up his dishes and leaves a marginal mess.

The real kicker—he has the ability to keep the toilet seat down with your now shared bathroom attached to your bedroom, a real…gentleman.

You eyed him suspiciously most of the day, when he’s unaware and preoccupied, wondering when the facade would drop. Does he even remember the coffee incident?

He had to, right?

He approaches with a silent gesture of his emptied cup as you fill your own.

Fine—you pull the cup from his grip and fill it to the brim, sliding it back over carefully.

He sips gingerly as he raises it to his lip before speaking, “S’good coffee.”

“Thanks,” You answer nonchalantly, pouring a generous amount of sugar and cream into your coffee and stirring, watching as the dark black lightened into a soft brown, “are you a coffee guy?”

“I’m an anything guy,” Lucien responds, “but—good, it’s good. I’m impressed.”

“Why?” You ask with a little more bark than needed, a flippant tone rounding out your morning irritation as you readied for work. “Are you—you really don’t remember, do you?”

Lucien raised his eyebrows in question, expectant.

“Your last job, up in Hollywood Hills. You spilled coffee all over me, blamed me, then got me suspended for a week, because of your outburst. I barely managed rent that month”

His eyes narrow, recollecting the thought like he’d been stricken with temporary amnesia.

“You’re all so much of the same, y’know?” You continue, sipping generously from your cup as his face relaxes, following your movements with a casual glance. “Cocky, egotistical, little dicked men. Without me you wouldn’t have that ridiculous fifteen dollar hyper whateverthefuck water you insisted you needed in your trailer, or your dry cleaning? God forbid. Seriously, fuck you.”

“Wait—” Lucien staunches, hold his hand up in pause, “hold on—”

You wait for approximately half a second before you roll your eyes, pushing beyond him to gather your bag and keys, “You know, I don’t need a disingenuous apology. I’m not doing this as a favor. I’m being paid.”

James had lied to him, that much he was figuring out as he processed the situation. You weren’t someone offering up free charity, a helping hand for a starving actor in need—except that wasn’t the case for him. Despite his team's careful guidance; he was a repeat offender of bad choices and money management, a part-time alcoholic, and a serial flirt. He knew how to play his hand and he was good at it, but with you—it was clear that you were a challenge.

But, it was only a couple weeks. He could survive that. He was a people person first and foremost and he’d charm the hell out of you if given the opportunity.

“James said he’d be by in an hour to pick you up for your meetings today—lock the door when you leave. Please.”

Still speechless, he watches you leave with a stiff, crisp shut of the door.

He couldn’t remember, racking his brain for one incident after another. His own fair share made him cringe in hindsight, but he…couldn’t remember. He’d almost hoped you were a fresh face, leaving him free of judgment, but it was clear that this situation was about pure survival.

“You did do that,” James confirmed to him as they left the first brand meeting that morning, “It was the morning of the big awards show—you remember?” He doesn’t wait for Lucien’s response, continuing, “Poor kid got her ass chewed out and had to take a trip to the clinic for the burns. It was…a mess. Never cried, though. I’ll give her that.”

And, like a strike of a match, it floods back. You’re shocked expression, mouth slightly agape as the sting of pain settled in, bracing for the impact of Lucien’s wrath because you knew. A man allergic to accountability, oozing power, it was almost too easy.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Apologies seem pointless now, but it could help. But…be genuine.”

“I’m genuine.”

James gives him a certain look, one that argues otherwise.

“I am.”

Only time would tell, really.

By the end of your work day, it was with great relief as you stepped through the door of your apartment until you remembered one fine detail you had told Lucien more than once.

Lock the door.

The eeriness hits you as the door clicks shut behind you, the place falling into a dead silence for a brief moment, your bag hitting the counter as you maneuvered your keys between your fingers, ready to take on what you could with what little strength you had to offer.

Just maul their face off, that seemed like the best option.

You count the seconds in your head, breath held tight and constricted in your chest. You quickly check the available pathways—living room, kitchen, before slipping down the hall, left with the only room to flee if not away from your apartment.

Bedroom light off, not a thing out of place, pristine even—but your eyes track toward the bathroom light seeping underneath the gap in the door. With careful, measured movements you approach the door although you haven’t thought through the actual process of what you wanted to do.

But, before you can react the door is swinging open as the bathroom is plunged into darkness, revealing a sopping wet Lucien, towel tied tight around his waist as he slings a smaller one over his shoulders, completely relaxed until he spots you.

Both of you scream—you out of anger and fear, Lucien at the incoming hand that he snatches by the wrist, your eyes landing on each other, your nostrils flaring in frustration.

“You’re insane!” Lucien shouts, shoving your hand away, “You nearly tore my face off.”

“I thought you were an intruder,” You seethe, “—what kind of maniac showers with the front door unlocked while home alone?”

“You said you had a bat,” Lucien excuses, “I could have defended myself.”

You sigh, plucking the keys from your grip before you toss them on your bed, stepping away from Lucien and away from the radiating heat of his body as it glistened, obnoxiously.

“Get out,” You snap, “get out—go—”

“I was just gonna…grab my clothes and come change in,” He weakly gestures toward the bathroom, earning a sharp look of distaste in his direction, “alright—alright, Jesus.”

He pauses for a moment, though. Before the lightbulb clicks on and he’s scrambling into the living room and back in record time, shoving a small white envelope into your hands.

“What is this?” You ask tensely, blindly ripping at the seal as you stare at him.

“It’s uh—what I owe you, for the coffee thing. I…I remember now. Figured I could pay you for the work I made you miss…is that about right?”

You peer at the wad of cash. It was indeed, enough.

“You’re unbelievable,” You reply, shaking your head.

It gives him false hope, wondering if it was all going to be brushed under the rug and that he could continue the rest of his stay in a somewhat semblance of peace, but then your expression flips and oh…that’s not…

“Are you physically incapable of saying the words “I’m sorry”—would it kill you? Allergic to accountability? God, you know what, I’m gonna call James and tell him I just can’t do—”

“No,” Lucien panics, hand around your bicep as you attempt to push past him, immediately recognizing the fierceness of his grip he loosens it, calms himself, “no—please, listen…I…I didn’t think you’d care enough to hear it. I do remember now and I was a dick, I was trying to offer a gesture of good faith. Peace, even?”

“Is this even your money?” You ask curiously, brow furrowed as you help up the envelope.

“Yeah, yeah—I pulled it out of my savings. Why? Do you…not want it?”

You quickly snatch the envelope away, “No, I’ll take it. But, words mean a lot. Like calling me an ignorant little bitch.”

“Okay, okay. I am sorry. I had a lot going on and I know that isn’t an excuse either, but I am.”

You tilt your head in examination, peering through the raw emotion on his face, whether he was putting on a masterclass in acting or not, it was believable enough. You could remain bitter, even if it meant suffering in silence, but you liked the peace just as much as he, so you compromise.

“You still have to get out,” You inform him, walking your fingers tauntingly toward the door, “and I swear, Lucien, if you used all the hot water—”

Lucien was insistent about rehearsing at least five hours a day, even on weekends. Luckily, most of those days you were spared, but when you’re barricaded away in your bedroom, sound travels. And Lucien doesn't care much to stifle his performance, maybe it was a weapon to backfire at your inconsiderate neighbors, but it was driving you insane.

He’s stuck on one scene, clearly a building tension that explodes and apparently he can’t nail, having heard the lines a hundred times over through the muffled walls—your first instinct was to complain, tell him take it elsewhere, but you remember your deal with James. Lucien just needed a place to stay for a while and this was his job.

Eventually, you poke your head through your bedroom door with a cautious expression, watching Lucien examine his face in the mirror, filing through various emotions before he finally gives up, tossing the script against the counter.

He spots you as he turns, already gearing up to apologize or maybe even excuse—but instead, you speak.

“Is it for an audition?”

“How’d you know?”

“The yelling, the emotion—I guess? I help on set with self tapes from time to time. I’ve learned to spot the difference between just memorizing lines and trying to feel the script.”

Lucien pushes his lips out in thought, tongue rolling over his teeth as his hands settle against his hips, pushing the sweatpants lower on his hips as he stands, deliberating.

“Just ask,” You tell him.

“You any good?”

It was a genuine question, not meant to attack your own ego. Besides, it makes you laugh.

“I’ll get your good side,” You promise him, surfacing from your room as you beckon for his phone with your hand, getting straight to work.

It only takes a few minutes to find a solid place to set up, against one of your cream colored walls, pictureless and plain, but with ample lighting from inside and out, it highlighted the wispy grays in Lucien’s untamed curls hanging over his forehead, the wrinkles creasing there as he looked down at the script and examined the text.

“Do you have them memorized?”

Lucien nods absently, his finger trailing down the side of the paper until it was suddenly gone, snatched from his hands with a smile on your face as you pointed for him to slide into frame. You take a step back, watching the screen with a careful eye before motioning with a finger for him to move a few centimeters to the left, “There. Perfect.”

You flatten out the creased paper as you speak, “From the top?”

Lucien smiles halfheartedly—the stress washing from his face for a moment—and nods.

–

You could keep up, that much was obvious.

Lucien is used to the monotone voice on the other side of the camera during auditions, forced tones and half-cocked emotion, it was hard to act against and with, but he’s learned to push through for the sake of a role.

It was an emotional scene, almost a requirement to have that intensity to act against and Lucien caught your eye line at one point, face buried in the script as you uttered the lines with teary eyes, letting your own emotion fill you to the brim and flow out, giving him a real and authentic reaction to act against.

He watched it back with a grin, mostly out of his own cocky admiration for himself but the secret you’ve been hoarding, a welcome surprise.

“Have you never considered acting?” Lucien asks curiously, emailing the video off to his agent.

“Cameras are daunting,” You shrug, folding and filing away some freshly washed towels as Lucien reclined on your couch, “I prefer being behind them.”

“You’re a natural,” He offers honestly, “that’s really rare.”

You shake your head in amusement as you riffled through the unfolded laundry, separating in different piles until you come across a no longer white blouse, stained a soft pink—and of course, Lucien. It was Lucien who offered to take laundry down the night prior, needing a moment away from being cooped up in the apartment, swearing he had it under control.

“I told you not to put this in the wash load with the colors! Look at this—” You held up the obviously stained blouse, crumpling up the fabric and tossing it to the couch with a frustrated huff.

“To be fair, it’s been years since I did my own laundry,” Lucien responds casually, “—don’t worry, I’ll have James buy you another.”

Your face twitches, actually twitches.

“No, no—it…it’s fine. It’s only a shirt,” You tuck a loose hair behind your ear as you heave the towels into your arm, “just—whites and colors, always separate them.”

And while living with Lucien had mellowed out some, it was still tumultuous at times.

Fighting over the bathroom was a regular occurrence, both of you guilty. But, that could be worked through, it wasn’t the end of the world. Occasionally it was the lights, a bad habit of Lucien’s to leave them lingering in his wait, lamps and fixtures, nothing was safe. Opened cabinets, items forgotten and out of place. It was all tedious and frustrating, picking and choosing your battles as they came, brushing far too much under the rub for the sake of peace.

You knew it was almost over, enjoying a quiet night to yourself while Lucien was apparently out at dinner—you weren’t sure, you didn’t really care, but you enjoyed the glimpse of what was to return to you, tucked away on the couch while half-dressed, hand stuffed into a freshly popped bowl of popcorn.

It was Friday and your neighbors never failed to come home from a rowdy night of partying with everything but sleeping on their mind, getting straight to business and your grab for the remote was immediate, turning up the volume to drown out the obnoxious moans and groans of drunk sex happening on the other side of the wall.

Lucien arrives back somewhere near the middle of the movie, the soft laughs from you pulling his attention to the couch as he clocked the nineties rom-com on the television, your cheek resting against your balled up fist, placing his wallet against the counter to signal his entrance.

“Loud enough for you?” Lucien jokes, approaching the singular piece of furniture in your living room, fingertips pressing against the arm of the couch as he takes in your appearance, shirt barely reaching beyond mid-thigh, thick socks keeping you warm as you curled in on yourself, careless that Lucien was definitely looking you make a noise in question, the words processing in a delayed manner.

You reach for the remote, pausing the movie briefly to reveal the reason; the insistent thump of wood against cheap sheetrock and moans, squealy and high-pitched, forcing a raised eyebrow from Lucien that needed no words.

“Nevermind,” He concedes,hands thrown up in defeat with a chuckle hidden behind his teeth, walking closer to examine the screen, filing through his internal rolodex of films and drawing a blank.

“Are you going to keep standing there like a total weirdo or are you going to watch the movie?” You ask with a joking tone, tucking your feet underneath you as you made room, glancing down at your phone as a notification brought the screen to life.

Lucien catches the faint tug of a smile on your face as you type away, clicking the phone into sleep mode a few moments later before continuing the movie without a word.

You’re not sure which one of you succumbs to sleep first, but it didn’t matter, finding that you both aligned together easily as you slept, covered with a blanket that Lucien must have snatched somewhere near without disturbing you—and when you wake in the middle of the night, complex quiet throughout, you can’t even find it in you to move.

–

Lucien’s length of stay was diminishing quickly and you were relieved, only a few more days and things would be back to normal, you’d be three thousand dollars richer, and you wouldn’t have to confront the fact that Lucien wasn’t entirely as bad as he seemed, temper aside.

You’re both on your way out the door on a weekday morning when you spot him, navy blue hoodie draping his body, one you favored because of its size and comfortability.

“That’s mine,” You utter as you’re fisting your keys into your hand and tucking a makeup applicator away in your bag, “that’s…mine—why is it on your body?”

Lucien looks down, perplexed. He could’ve swore…

“It’s mine, I swear,” You’re peering over his shoulder and pulling at the collar, examining the tag by his neck, or lack thereof—you always cut them out, hated the feeling against your skin.

“It’s mine,” You say with finality, “But, it’s fine. I’ve been meaning to replace it anyways. And now that you’ve worn it, definitely.”

“Ouch,” Lucien chuckles, shaking his head at your bluntness, “I guess I deserve that. I did think it was mine, though. Swear. Must’ve gotten mixed up somehow.”

“Oh, well, just burn it now—oh, shit, before I forget,” You point your finger at his chest, stopping him in his tracks, “I’ve got a date tonight. I’ll more than likely be gone when you get back here. I’m leaving a key under the mat, you know the deal. Respect it…protect it like you give a shit if anything happens, it’s all I have.”

“Date?” Lucien teases, “Sounds—”

“We’re not doing this,” You cut him short, finger raising higher in reprimand, “don’t do that.”

Again, Lucien values his well-being, so he admits defeat.

It was difficult for him, his eagerness to please and charm, to command the conversation and impress—but with you, it was impossible. Truly, it was mesmerizing to him.

It was several hours later when Lucien arrived at the apartment, pointedly locking the door behind him as you had reminded him several times—he wasn’t completely aloof.

His orders takeout on a whim, disguised under a fake name and the careful directions to leave at the door, having practiced the art of subtly when it came to laying low, enjoying a couple beers from a pack James had bought him as a small celebration for a week of good, decent meetings.

Things had been looking up recently and it made Lucien unsettled in a way, but thankful nonetheless, sipping at the beer generously and relaxing well into the night, dusk turning to black skies and few twinkling star lights, drowned out by the thick smog of city pollution. It started raining eventually, a soft pattern picking up gradually and he, for natural reasoning, is slightly concerned. So, he stays up despite some lingering exhaustion, barely hitting a quarter beyond eight o’clock when the door handle rattles, soft curses on the other side of the door that send him to his feet, peering through the peephole to spot a sufficiently blurry outline of you.

And what he opens the door to is not what he’s expecting, although, he wasn’t even sure what he was expecting in the first place, but this…it wasn’t it.

You were wet, clothes dripping and rain water pooling at your feet, everything sticking to you like an uncomfortable glue, cold and shivering, your bottom lip trembling.

Without thinking, Lucien shifts into action.

He doesn’t ask a single question, not at first. Silently pulling the items off of you as you allow him; keys and purse first, clanging against the counter before he’s pulling your coat of, blouse, even kneeling down to remove your shoes before he’s carrying the clothes to the bathroom with you in tow, turning on the shower until it was steaming up the mirrors, heat radiating through the room as you pulled at the button of your jeans weakly, fumbling with cold and feeble hands.

He holds his hands up, careful not to approach in a way that would startle you or force you into attack mode, which seemed unlikely with the disheartened look on your face and he asks quietly, “Do you need help?”

You’re quiet for a long, tense moment before you nod, trying to quell the full body shivers as he assists you in stripping down to your underwear, also soaked. He pulls the curtain back and helps you over the side of the tub with the solid weight of his hand and speaks again despite your silence, “I’ll wait in your room—do you need anything?”

It doesn’t take a genius to piece things together as Lucien settles against the edge of the bed and it angers him for some forlorn reason, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in a long time. When the shower cuts off, he straightens, hesitates—should he leave?

You’d want privacy, right? Yeah. No, definitely.

He rises to his feet without another thought, his awful timing sending you straight into his chest as you swung the door open, towel snug around your body and smelling sharply of fresh, citrus body wash.

“S-sorry,” You stammer out, “you don’t—you don’t have to wait around, Lucien. Or give a shit, either. I don’t expect you to and I don’t care—”

It was unusually cold. He’s become familiar with your snark, that sharp and cunning personality, but this was different. This was a push, a defense of hard and impenetrable walls building up before his eyes and he speaks without thinking, hoping that it slips through the cracks.

“Regardless, I’ll listen,” Lucien provides—it wasn’t an overwhelming expression of fake, forced care or, god forbid, love. But, it was a raw enough response that it grabs your attention, “—if you want me to.”

—

He cranked up the heat while you dressed, flipped open his leftover takeout, and listened. You weren’t used to this and for a while, you were half-expecting him to find a way to turn the situation on himself, a sob story for a sob story. But, he doesn’t.

“This sushi…” You savor the taste, eyes falling closed.

“Good, isn’t it?” Lucien smirks, popping another into his mouth with careful precision, chopsticks in hand.

You could cry, it was such a strong and startling feeling that it caught you off-guard, “Yeah, really good.”

You clear your throat, tears shoved aside, “Have you ever ditched a date before?”

Lucien shakes his head with a subtle frown.

“Right, Lucien De Leon,” You respond jokingly, that magical emphasis around his name, “any woman would be dying for all of….this,” You gesture to him lazily with a faux disgust that couldn’t even be forced, both of you divulging into a laugh.

“Hey, you said it,” Lucien shrugs with a pointed wink that you shouldn’t find so attractive, but the natural charm he emits makes it impossible, “—but, no. Can’t say I have.”

“Even the ones who wouldn’t put out?”

“At the risk of sounding like an asshole—“ Lucien begins, but you follow the rhythm of the conversation and it isn’t long before the lightbulb strikes on and you’re nodding.

“Right, you probably don’t have an issue in that department. Stupid question, sorry.”

You pluck the last piece of sushi off the styrofoam and chew, speaking behind your hand, “I should’ve known that dude was a prick, only stared at my tits the entire date.”

Out of reflex, his eyes drag to your chest and you click the movement in an instant, “Not helping,” You warn him lightly, “I guess I was too blunt, he kept…touching me. I told him I didn’t feel comfortable going back to his place, he made some excuse to go to the bathroom and I waited for a half hour. Until the server came by with the bill—so, not only did he ditch me, I paid a hundred dollar tab and I didn’t even eat my food.”

Even in Lucien’s wild days, he couldn’t imagine doing that. Not when he was drinking more heavily, partying, hooking up on a daily basis—before his first failed marriage, it was foreign to him.

“You could’ve called me, or James, shit—an uber.”

“Phone died,” You shrug lamely, “it doesn’t matter, anyways. And don’t get me wrong, casual sex—it’s fine, but I got too hopeful, I guess. All men are the same.”

“Come on,” Lucien jests, “that’s not fair.”

“Fine, enlighten me, then.”

“You can’t expect fairytale shit—I mean, I’m one failed marriage and plenty of missteps in my life. Do you think I’m a bad guy?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

Lucien sighs in defeat, scratching at his mused hair as he tosses the empty food container aside.

“I’m fucking with you,” You offer in a quieter tone—even if you weren’t friends with him, he didn’t have to put in the effort to help or listen, but he was, “I’m—just, thank you.”

“I’m in good graces now?” Lucien asks curiously, that playful mischief gracing his face with a smile.

You make a motion with your hand from your head as you grab, like pulling a thought and throwing it away, “Coffee incident? Forgotten—unless you pull some heinous shit.”

“You know, I might actually miss this,” His finger does a swirling motion, encompassing your living room, “you—eh,” a shaky hand motion that earns a jab to his thigh from your foot, “shit, ouch—that was a joke.”

“I know,” You concede with a smirk, “—I won’t, though. I want my couch back. And my bathroom.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think you’re a catch,” He tells you, “although, I do like the ones that bite, so—“

You reach forward this time, swatting playful at his chest with the back of your hand, but his fast reflexes beat you, your fingers smacking into solid rings.

He snickers softly and examines the grimace on your face as you pull back, “Pobrecita,” He coos mockingly, reaching for your hand and pressing a gentle kiss against the skin, “see what I mean?”

You ignore the heat that strikes through your body like a freshly lit match, pulling your hand away with a distinct eye roll.

He’d be gone soon and this would all be a ridiculous memory to think back on.

There was no room for newly evolving feelings, or worse, infatuation.

—

The three months you spend falling back into your normal routine is monotonous, safe, but the kind of security that has you itching for change. You find yourself checking on Lucien more often than you should, regular social media checks, the occasional subtle question to James when you happened to catch him on set. It wasn’t healthy, but you couldn’t help yourself.

He did seem more erratic, often coming across other quick clips and social media stories of him at the club during waking hours, pure reckless abandon, he was having the time of his life—you couldn’t blame him, but it was…slightly alarming.

It was a Saturday night when all hell broke loose, police sirens raining down the street as you raced to your open window, peering down at the obscured face of a man in cuffs as he was roughly shoved into a police car before there’s a pounding knock at the door, your heart nearly bursting out of your chest at the sound.

Turning on your heels and swinging the door open, you can’t help but find yourself speechless at the sight.

“Think they caught your burglar,” Lucien notes under his baseball cap, eyes catching the cascading red and blue lights outside your window, duffel bag at his feet and a regretful look on James’ face.

You tilt your head at the discovery, your brain working overtime before your eyes widen.

“Just hear him out,” He pleads with prayer like hands, phone sandwiched between two begging palms, “Lucien—go,”

Lucien seems to stutter-step in his mind, not expecting to be the one leading this proposition as he side-eyes James, “I…need a place to stay…again,” Lucien squints his eyes and stares up at the ceiling, looking almost embarrassed, “for the next six months.”

“No,” You nearly shout out incredulously, “the first time wasn’t a trial run.”

There’s a long moment of tense eye contact and uncertainty.

An underlying worry in your gut at the sight of Lucien, a little worse for wear but still mostly himself, gripping tightly at his carry-on bag in his hand, thumb rubbing nervously at the leather strap.

Goddammit.

–

He’s paying the entire six months of rent he planned on staying there while he filmed for a movie they were shooting a short ten minute drive from your complex, a quaint little studio gracious enough to let the crew film free of charge—he’d given you the whole spiel, in one ear and out the other still wondering how you’ve tangled yourself in this web again.

“Can I just ask you one thing?” You inquire, helping him file away some of his clothes in a drawer you had emptied out for him like this was normal. He makes a soft noise of acknowledgment with his lips pursed together, tired sunken eyes staring back at you, “Why not get your own apartment? A house? I mean, you’ve got the money?”

Lucien clears his throat, scratching at his neck where it jostles his chains, fingers slipping under the silk fabric of his shirt, “I, uh—feel weird…livingalone,” He rushes out, quickly turning to grab more clothes as you stand, hand placed against the top of your dresser as your brow furrows, feeling like you’d just fallen deaf.

“Come again?”

A small huff as Lucien passes a stack of expensive shirts, material that had to be ethically sourced or…some bullshit like that, he’s told you the story before in passing.

“I don’t like living alone, ‘s why I float,” He offers lamely, tossing the empty duffel into the corner of your room—you’d pick it up later, it didn’t matter, “I left all my old stuff to my ex-wife, it was easier that way.”

Often you had to remind yourself that Lucien was older, nearing his late forties while you were still managing through your late twenties, a big thirty on the horizon.

It dawns on you then that you don’t know much about Lucien at all outside of tabloids and gossip sites, the rumor mills running through Hollywood—you often find yourself reminding you of the fact he was still a person, with troubles, clearer now more than ever.

“It wasn’t always like this,” He assures you, “I’m a fuckin’ mess, I already know.”

“I think we’re beyond judgment, Lucien,” You assure him, “You saw me sobbing and nearly naked—just keep this place clean, like you give a shit about it, alright?”

Lucien nods dutifully, “Yes, ma’am.”

–

You learn quickly that his long term stay meant that little quirks were beginning to surface—always organizing your things out on the sink opposite of his own, a small gesture that didn’t go unnoticed when you were rushing out the door on days he wasn’t given a call time. Or how he always made sure there was food waiting when he arrived before you—takeout or not. He wasn’t a great cook, but he could manage.

In turn, you tried to cook more often. And he loved to hover, but not with a homey, warm feeling that made you feel safe, rather like a curious dog nipping at your ankles. And more so, he would finish his own plate before looking cautiously at your own before you nod, allowing him to pick from your plate with a greediness that made you giggle under your breath.

“My ex-wife never cooked,” He had told you once, “I mean, she tried—but she was terrible. And this,” His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek as he steps at the homemade ravioli, “is there anything you can’t do?”

“Say no, apparently,” You gave him a solid once-over, a look from head to toe—he’s never offended anymore, taking the playful jest in stride, it had already been a month and it was beginning to feel like normal, again, having him there.

Your conflicting schedules meant a lot of time away from each other, which wasn’t bad. It almost helped more than you expected and while your apartment wasn’t well-fit for a roommate, Lucien made the place feel less empty.

You couldn’t say it out loud, but you were starting to understand the charm. You could see beyond the facade and the persona—a troubled man with ambition, purpose, but a mountain of struggles. The drinking wasn’t a surprise, nor his uptick in smoking. He always smoked out the window so the smell wouldn’t permeate, but the drinking started to become…an issue.

It wasn’t that Lucien couldn’t handle himself when he drank, but he often did it to fill the dead time—so he said—when you were still at work, fighting with his own demons in his mind. He always ended up on your bed those nights, curled up in a fetal position at the wrong end and you couldn’t find it in yourself to move him, draping a blanket over him before you decided to spend the night on the couch. It was a weekly occurrence after a while, slowly growing in frequency.

He always apologizes, tells you he won’t do it again, but eventually you find yourself melding around him, sleeping in a way that keeps you comfortable and doesn’t disturb him. You don’t judge him, don’t think any lower of him—but there was concern and Lucien could see it growing with every passing conversation as the weeks dragged along.

By the third month, the dam breaks.

You don’t sugarcoat anything for him either.

“Do you need rehab?” You ask bluntly, watching him peel the gold-flaked under eye patches from his face, shoulder leaned against the doorframe, “Or, like, therapy?”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” He defends, washing his hands under the warm water, “I can get sober if I wanna, but it helps with the stress, you know?”

“No,” You respond honestly, but softly, “I don’t. Unless this is just some big excuse for you to sleep in my bed, which if it is—”

Lucien chuckles, toweling his hands dry, “You caught me.”

“You would tell me if it was getting bad, wouldn’t you?”

It seemed like the least he could do, considering how greatly you were carrying the burden for him by allowing him to stay in the comfort of your own home, treating him like a human. You ignored the tabloids anymore, always negative and nefarious toward him, like he wasn’t allowed to make a few mistakes along the way. He had to be perfect, given his troubling start in the industry. DUIs, cheating, eventually settling down to marry but that didn’t work out great for him either—you’d done some research lately, out of pure curiosity to understand what he wasn’t always willing to share, but you preferred to hear it from him.

Lucien squeezes at your chin in a comforting manner that makes you grimace in feigned disgust, forcing a gentle laugh through your nose as he answers, “Yes, I would.”

–

When he should, he doesn’t.

Award season was approaching and work was hectic, Lucien had wrapped on his next project and his previous one was gearing for a big release and line of promos, which meant Lucien had to be on his game.

The lamp in your living was broken, a shattered glass bottle on the floor beside it, a trail of clothes following to your room and a heat in the apartment that was sweltering in a way that had you stripping down immediately to the thinnest layer you could manage without getting to your underwear, jeans and a thin strapped top as you walked barefoot toward your room.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting or hoping for, but it isn’t this.

He’s naked, completely bare, save for the blanket draping his groin to save his modesty, out cold but skin obviously clammy, reeking of alcohol and sweat and you can’t help scrambling to the floor, unable to form any type of tangible sound. You check for a pulse, fearing that you might have just found yourself in an inescapable scandal, but it was there. That soft thump, thump, thump under your fingertips before you press the back of your hand to his skin and despite the sweat, he’s cold. He must have sweat out most of the alcohol in his system, your eyes dragging to the forgotten bottle on the ground.

You sigh, eyes falling closed as you gather your thoughts. You devise a plan, slow and methodical—first was to clean, grabbing the clothes and broken glass from the ground, leaving no trace of his mayhew before you’re returning to your room and straight for the bathroom, immediately turning on the cold water, the stream forceful as it pushed through the showerhead.

“Fuck,” You curse to yourself as you glance at Lucien who is mostly dead-weight, struggling to understand how you can get him from one point to another—with another quiet huff you approach him, shifting until you can get your arms under his armpits and heave him up, blanket falling from his waist as you yelp, eyes shooting toward the ceiling as you continue to drag his slumped body toward the tub, “okay—god, Lucien, you fucking owe me.”

It takes some maneuvering and the unbelievability that you are so incredibly close to his bare ass and dick in a way that most would fall over backwards for, regardless of the situation—it felt wrong, seeing him in such a manner and so completely helpless, but you shove the thought aside as you finally get him in the tub, the cold water waking him almost immediately.

It starts with a gasp, a sharp tug of the curtain and coarse, “Shit,” that assures you he was alive and well, coherent, even. A small smile tugs at your lips as you hear him let out a string of curses before he finally settles.

“There’s a bottle of water and some Advil on the counter—take it,” You instruct behind the curtain, “I’m going to grab dinner—try not to hurt yourself, please.”

He doesn’t acknowledge you, not that you expected it. And it doesn’t take long to grab the food either, calling it in and driving there and back in about twenty minutes, finding Lucien freshly showered and sitting on the stool near the counter, eyes telling a story of exhaustion but his insistently bouncing leg telling another.

“Chicken or steak?” You ask nonchalantly, holding the styrofoam containers in both hands.

He takes a moment to answer, unsettled by your calmness, “...steak.”

You hand it over without a question, grabbing a couple drinks before you’re digging in, standing opposite of him rather than sitting, eating in a silence that grows, thickens.

“It’s quiet,” You note the obvious before you scroll through your phone, searching for a soft tune to play through your speakers, something to fill the air, “better—how’s the food?”

“I like it,” Lucien responds with a full mouth, somehow endearing as he swallows and sips at the second water you offered him, attempting to help keep him hydrated, even if it was still annoyingly hot in your apartment, “—I…I think I broke your AC.”

“You did. I’ll put in a work order for it to get fixed,” You answer, a solution to the problem, “are you okay?”

If Lucien was being honest with himself, he can’t remember the last time anyone has asked him that—not genuinely, anyways. He falls silently, biting at his bottom lip in deep thought as his eyes squint, poking quietly at his food.

Talking was hard, you understood that. But, you hoped there was some trust built between you in the past few months, that you hadn’t laid your vulnerabilities out bare the night you came home rain soaked without the ability for him to share too. Plus, he’d broken your favorite lamp.

“It’s complicated,” Lucien diverts, but that doesn’t stop you, eyes lying in wait as you laid your utensil down to listen, “—I’ve got two kids. One, he’s eighteen…awesome, awesome kid. His name is Raynor. I didn’t meet him until a few years back, I’ve been tryin’ take make up for that. We even went on a roadtrip a couple summers back.”

Lucien fiddles with the cap on the water bottle idly, speaking further, “I, the other, my daughter, she’s a couple years old—it was a crazy night with a co-star,” You clock the information immediately, knowing who he was talking about without the confession, and he knew too—it wasn’t exactly a well kept secret in Hollywood as Delia was now married, to another co-star, raising that child, “a long story for another time, but we’re going through this nasty court battle.”

It would explain his financial situation a little, his willingness to take roles as he could, but the growing stress on his face as weeks passed, the tendency to hide or ignore the situation rather than face it—you understood, to a degree.

“So, all the drinking? The transiency?”

“It just helps,” He shrugs—helps him forget, temporarily, before it all comes barreling back at him, “she wants to revoke shared custody—she’s got her more anyways, with my work and everything, but she wants to deem me unfit, make it—” Lucien’s throat tightens, exactly why he wanted to avoid this conversation entirely, “she wants to erase me and the moment the press gets wind—”

All hell would break loose.

“Lucien, I don’t think it works that way,” You assure him, even if your knowledge was slim, “there’s…that's your right, she’s your child.”

“Given my history, the judge could consider it,” Lucien replies lackluster, ashamed, “look—I’m sorry to dump this shit on you, I fucked up your apartment, I can find another place to stay and I’ll pay out the rest of the rent like I promised.”

You look at him with a gentle expression, tilting your head until his eyes finally rise, “I asked,” You remind him, “and I hated that lamp anyways, so you did me a favor,” It was a lie, but given his emotional state it was acceptable, watching as he forced a weak laugh, “I’m not kicking you out either, if the media publishes anything about it, you hunker down here. I can deal with a few paps, you know? We do work in the same industry, after all. I may not understand the full scope but I do understand, Lucien.”

He returns a look with sad, red-rimmed eyes as you reach to clean up your shared dinner, before approaching him with a careful few steps, a hand gliding over his bicep and your fingers rubbing at the small dip in the back of neck, your first real initiation of genuine touch. He was a touchy person himself and seemed at ease by the feeling, your lips coming to press a soft kiss against his cheek. Kind, friendly, you pat at his back.

Something changes between that touch and the look he gives you as he turns, eyes flicking toward your lips out of desire, silently he pushes logic aside and leans forward, pulling your chin into his hand like he has before, a familiar touch followed by a foreign one, plush lips against your own that has you swimming in a mix of emotions, eyes falling shut briefly before you realize what was happening, lips parting slightly as the tip of his tongue touches your own before you’re ripping away, eyes wide.

“Oh my god,” You utter out, wishing the words had stayed inside of your head, “I, uh–I’m—”

You stutter relentlessly before you’re scrambling toward your room, door falling shut with a soft click as you sink into your sheets, heart racing uncontrollably and your hands covering your face, unable to face what you had just escaped from as a knock comes a few minutes later on your bedroom door.

You couldn’t face him. You couldn’t.

Eventually, he leaves. Slow footsteps that eventually lead toward another door that closes too, unsure of where he was wandering off to, but you couldn’t think about that, not with the conflicting, battling emotions in your head and chest, a startling yearning coming from just a simple touch.

He was everything you despised—somehow finding level ground, adoring him, caring about him, it was never supposed to go this far. He started as an inconvenience, a disruption to your life…and now, you weren’t sure you could imagine it without him there, in some form.

It takes a couple hours, already deep into your slumber, but the dip of weight in your bed startles you for a moment before the movements stop, the strong press of a back against yours, and an unspoken security that pulls you both under quickly.

He’d gone out drinking again, but at this point, you couldn’t blame him.

–

He awakes to a sweet smell, distinct and fresh. And air, cool air. It can’t be dawn, the sun is too far in the sky to be early morning. Lucien rises with a heavy grogginess, rubbing at his eyes as he finds his footing and walks toward the living room of your apartment, finding your back turned to him as you fiddled with the buttons on your AC as you bid someone goodbye, a man carrying a toolbox descending toward the hallway.

He gears up for an apology, the words balancing on the tip of his tongue.

Suddenly, you’re in front of him, two filled mugs in hand, coffee just the way he liked.

And Lucien doesn’t know when or why the feeling overtakes him, but he kisses you again. It isn’t a simple peck. It was full, all-consuming, feet lifting off the ground type of kiss.

No, literally—you rise to your tiptoes as the cups jostle in your grip as two large, warm hands curl around your back and his lips melt against your own, earning a starling gasp that slips through slightly parted lips, followed by his name after a moment too long.

“Coffee, coffee,” You mumbled quickly, “hot—burning, my toes,” Lucien pulled away quickly at the words, watching as the tan liquid pooled at your feet before he rushed to clean up the mess.

You watch with an amused expression before you finally hand the cup of coffee over, “Good morning to you too, I guess,” You smirk, biting down on your cheek to stifle the laugh that was fighting it’s way out, “please don’t tell me you’re still drunk.”

“I need to apologize,” Lucien tells you, “...again—I’m—I’m sorry for kissing you—again, like that, assuming that was something you wanted. I got pulled into the moment—”

You’ve had all night and morning to think it over, mulling over the emotions and feelings, still not quite sure, but you couldn’t help the swirling feeling of nervousness that had grown more frequent in Lucien’s presence, his looks, his flirtatious nature and touches. You were under his spell completely.

And if you didn’t want to kiss him, you would have stopped him.

Besides, you didn’t want to be the bearer of more bad news after his terrible night, having been let go from your job position that morning, no notice—you were still reeling, but didn’t want to burden Lucien with the news.

You needed something else to occupy your mind.

“Drink,” You instruct, taking a seat on the couch as you sip at your coffee in silence, watching as Lucien mirrored your actions and sat at the opposite end, legs out-stretched and his chest on display, tanned skin with neatly trimmed chest hair, soft tummy leading into the charcoaled, stretchy lounge pants leaving little to imagination as he fidgeted in his seat.

“Where’d you go last night?”

Lucien’s face immediately flushes with guilt, “The—a bar. I didn’t drink. I swear, I—”

He makes a small noise of frustration and closes his eyes, “I did something stupid, I needed a distraction, alright? I shouldn’t have kissed you, that’s not what you wanted, I know that.”

With a silent reservation, you press the coffee cup into the table in front of you before slowly make your way toward him on your knees before you pluck the half-empty mug from his grip and return it to a similar spot, feeling a surge of bravery as you climb onto his lap—there’s some underlying stupidity there, you think. But, fuck it.

“You don’t know what I want,” You assure him, fingers dragging along the top of his head before you’re tugging at the stands to tilt his head back, kissing him soundly, sweet dark roast on your shared breaths as you lick into his mouth, the opposite hand pressed flat against his bare chest. It takes a while, but eventually his brain catches up, along with his movements, and his hands curl around your bare thighs, fingertips grazing the silk shorts you wore to bed the night prior, like butter against your soft skin as his fingers climb and dig, pressing into your skin as you continue to discover every inch of him he had to offer—mouth, tongue, neck, chest.

It was a dormant hunger that had awoken after careful thought and pure primal need, tired of waiting things out for perfection when you had something tangible in front of you.

He’s mumbling your name softly as you lean into him, the bottom of your lip dragging against the tip of his nose as he pulls you away, strong hands encompassing your face as he looks at you, searching your glazed over eyes, “What are you doing?” He asks, apparent concern.

“Distracting you,” You tell him, immediately diving back in to kiss him, nipping at his chin playfully, a shaking sigh falling from his lips, “are you distracted?”

He chuckles weakly, “What happened to me being a cocky, egotistical, little dicked man?”

“I can go back to hating you if you want,” You respond, nipping at his ear before you pull back to look at him, so close you can feel his breath against your lips, “If you’re into that sorta thing.”

He could see in your eyes that you needed this too, a way to shut your brain off for a while, months of failed dates you’ve told him all about, in detail, he can’t help but chuckle at your eagerness, stifling a groan as you core grinds against him, cock stiffening with the movement.

“Maybe,” He’s undecided, “we’ll see how this goes.”

You smile wide, feeling a surge of pride as he returns the kiss more fully, a hand twisting around the back of your neck as he kisses you fully, all wet and uncoordinated but it makes your heart flutter in excitement.

“Let me taste you,” He begs, clawing at your top in an attempt to get his hands on your skin, pushing up the fabric as you follow his movements, top off, stripping your shorts down along with your underwear, an eager Lucien gripping at your hips to maneuver you down into the cushion as he hastily shoves the table away with his feet to make room for him on the floor, no reprieve as he hooks your legs over his shoulder and splits his tongue through your folds, licking up the center.

A man of his word, he tastes. Noisily he licks and prods, tongue dipping inside of along with wandering fingers, sucking gently at your clit until you’re yanking at his hair, hand curling over the back of his scalp, fingernails digging into the top of his back, moans spilling from your lips like a flowing river, the rapids rushing through, walls clenching around nothing but cool air as Lucien parts from you, admires.

He’s got two hands on your thighs to keep you open, “Wider,” He coaxes, your breath quickening as he squeezes at your thighs, “right there, don’t move.”

He shoves his pants down his hips, the heel of his palm rubbing down his shaft as he wraps his fingers around his cock, jerking himself off at the sight of you, glistening and eager, your fingers digging into the cushion fabric—you’ve seen him before, naked, in starkly different context.

But, he had nothing to be ashamed of, your eyes counting the faint splattering of freckles on his chest as his hand glides over his cock, tugs, thumb sliding over the tip to spread the precum down his shaft and you don’t hear him calling your name until his hand touches your skin, gliding over your knee as he taps, coming to with a weak, “Huh?”

Lucien laughs under his breath before he’s beckoning you closer, pushing up with your palms as he cups his hand under your chin and asks—no, demands, “Spit,” He tells you, following his order without missing a beat, the saliva dripping into his hands as you push it past your lips and he moves closer, knees settled on the plush rug in your living room, guiding you until your ass was nearly hanging off the couch and using your saliva to aid the tug of his cock.

“No condom,” You quickly interject, slightly out of breath. His mouth opens like he wants to respond but you quickly shush him, “we can avoid the spiel, I’m on the pill.”

Lucien shrugs with a cocked smile, “Just checking. You alright?”

You nod eagerly, dying for a reason to shut your mind off.

It was the perfect angle, his hips just level enough with your hips that he slid in with ease, adding his own string of spit into the mix as rubbed it down your cunt and pushed his cock inside—deeper, deeper, the head of his cock sliding against your folds teasingly as he rocks his hips until he’s fully flush inside of you.

Your anxious hands are taken hold by him, curling around his wrists instinctively before they’re being shoved over your head and against the back of the couch, his towering frame leaning over you as his hips piston you at a bruising pace, deep enough that it aches. It’s been long, so long and you feel pathetic for already wanting it so bad, core pulsating with an insatiable need.

His breath is hot, wet against your skin as his teeth graze against your breast, sucking the skin between his teeth as you gasp, “Louder,” Lucien coaxes, “let ‘em hear you. Think they deserve it after all they’ve put us through.”

You laugh at that, full-body and airy, eyes falling shut as Lucien plants a foot against the floor, changing up the angle to an intense degree, his cock slipping out briefly as he adjusts, catching glimpse of the string of shiny slick that connects you both before the thick head of his cock pushes back in, a soft squelch of admittance, a tell-tale sign of your obvious enjoyment.

If he knew this would shut you up, he would’ve tried seducing you months ago—though, he had a feeling the attempts would be futile, he was floating on his own cloud of disbelief that after all his wrong-doings, his missteps, it hadn’t pushed you away.

“Show me—huh, show me what you like,” Lucien pleads through baited breath, hair sticking to his forehead from the sheen of sweat, his own hands leaving yours with the silent promise that you wouldn’t move them, finding purchase underneath your thighs and pushing them up toward your chest, your fingers gripping around the back of the couch in desperation, “touch—touch yourself, show me.”

The drag of your hand is slow, but eventually your fingers hover over your cunt, pressing against your sensitive clit as you circle, slow and intentional movement that rips a loud moan from your chest matched with his pointed thrusts, feeling his stamina weaning as he watches, hips stuttering.

“You’re a fucking dream,” Lucien admires, “makin’ a damn mess, too. You hear that?”

He slows down on purpose, partially for his own benefit but he’s proving his point, that sticky squelch of arousal, his faint grunts mixed with your quickly rising moans.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” He asks curiously, eyes locked on your pussy, watching his cock split you open, gripping him and pulling him back in eagerly with every thrust, “Look at me—answer me, baby.”

There’s something so distinct in the way he says it, laced with an addictive drug.

Your eyes peel open, bleary behind near tears and you shake your head.

“Do you wish it did?” You counter, earning a subtle head shake from Lucien as he pulls out.

A moan of disappointment leaves your mouth before he’s quickly jostling your around, chest against the couch, his hand spreading wide over your back as he bends you over, fisting his cock as he feeds it back into your greedy cunt, the swollen head making you gasp as it pushes through your over-sensitive folds.

He uses the leverage as his hand climbs, gripping at your shoulder to pull you up, bracketing your body into the couch with a knee at your side, pressing you tight into his chest, his hand sliding around to your chin and turning your face to his, lips parting as he fucks you with a newfound ferocity, eyes rolling back so deep you aren’t expecting the fingers that find your clit, circling the senstive nerves until you’re tipping over the edge, soft encouraging words pulling you through your orgasm like a gentle wave, his fingers slowing down as you resurface.

He comes soon after, his hips stuttering out of pace again as you lean forward, feeling him pull out at the last possible moment before he’s painting thick strips of come against your lower back, the fingers of his left hand digging into your skin as he grabs you tight, the tip of his cock sliding against your ass.

You collapse with a content laugh, oblivious to Lucien searching frantically for something to clean you up before settling on one of the kitchen towels, your body slumped lazily against the couch and sighing when you feel his warm touch, the words slipping out on their own accord, “I got fired.”

“What?”

He tosses the dirty towel aside and passes over your clothes, pulling his own lounge pants back up his hips, sans underwear—and it makes you curious how often he does that normally, comfortable as he takes a seat, legs spread wide as he settles into the cushion.

“They called this morning,” You explain easily, pulling your top over your head and maneuvering your panties and shorts back on, “wouldn’t give me a reason, but it doesn’t matter.”

Lucien’s brow furrows in thought, rubbing his thumb against his fingertips out of habit.

“Is this one of those situations where you’re gonna ask if I’ll sign an NDA?” You half-joke.

He shakes his head almost immediately. He doesn’t seem to find it amusing, almost slightly concerned—or wounded?

“Come work for me,” He insists, “I’ve been needing an assistant.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” You ask him, staring at his flush chest and mused hair, evidence of rigorous sex all over his face, it was almost enough to have you confessing some unspoken feelings, but you weren’t that easily broken down.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Are you just trying to find a reason to stick around longer?” You tease him, a smile peeking out behind your tired expression, “Because it won’t work.”

“No—I’m serious about getting my shit together,” Lucien promises, “I might need a little help…but I want to.”

“Can I think about it?”

Lucien nods, hands dropping to his lap as he fiddles with a ring on his finger, eventually trailing toward the chains around his neck before his head is popping up, a quizzical look on his face.

“Wait—was that because you were having a bad morning?”

The sex, he means.

A smile breaks out on your face, “Nothing an orgasm won’t fix.”

He can sense it isn’t the full truth, but he doesn’t pry.

“Damn straight,” He chuckles, both of you falling into a comfortable silence.

–

Your answer doesn’t come for a solid week, thinking over the pros and cons. It was complicated, indeed bound to be messy if you allowed it, but Lucien was promising to double your pay, no undermining, no hovering—it seemed too good to be true.

But, you were taking the risk.

Lucien was still awaiting the imminent release of the court documents, the storm of press, but when you were secured in the safety of your apartment, hidden under the blankets as Lucien clung to you, head buried in your chest and his cock still buried inside of you, a slow and lazy day was what he needed, but he also craved you—and he was addicting, impossible to deny.

“We can’t keep doing this when I start working for you,” You remind him.

“Who says we can’t?” Lucien asks curiously, adjusting his hips as he slides deep inside of your cunt, peering up at you with soft eyes, “We keep it casual, if we decide we wanna stop. We stop. It won’t affect your job. I’m not that much of a dick, baby.”

“Well, for starters, you can’t call me baby at work.”

Lucien nods dutifully, listening to you divulge into a long lists of hardset rules, eventually pulling your focus back to him, his hips moving at a slow but gradual pace until you can’t focus any longer, giggling loudly as he buries his face into your neck, a sufficient end to the conversation.

The rest could be figured out later.

dividers: @/saradika-graphics

#lucien flores #lucien de leon #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien de leon x reader #lucien de leon x you #lucien flores smut #the uninvited #the uninvited fic #lucien de leon smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #my writing

468 notes · View notes