#so imagine that in march

[dreaminofu]

On 161 176 päivää, kulunut siitä kun lähdit täältä

I made the mistake of listening to Tarkotin sua by Kuumaa and it hit right into my Bojere feels. If Jere doesn’t visit Slovenia for Bojan’s birthday (✨manifesting✨), it’s going to be exactly 161 days in March since the last time they saw each other

(Credits: X, X, X, X, X, X)

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[deerspherestudios]

I'm way late but better late than never 😭! For this March event by lazerinth ❤️

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered

i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you

summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.

Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.

“What question?” He responds.

“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”

~~~

1993

Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.

You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.

The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.

What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.

It was around that time that he had found the mask.

It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.

He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.

Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.

He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.

“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.

“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”

Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.

Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.

~~~

The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.

However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.

So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.

He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.

After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”

Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.

“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.

“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?

“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.

“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”

You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”

“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.

“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.

Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.

“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.

“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.

He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”

He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.

~~~

“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.

Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”

“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It’s seventy degrees.”

“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”

Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”

Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.

So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.

It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.

On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”

“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”

“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”

Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.

“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”

You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.

~~~

The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”

You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.

“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”

You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”

You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.

“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.

“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”

“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.

You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”

“Well, is that what this is about?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.

“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.

“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”

Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”

You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.

“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”

Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.

As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.

You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.

He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.

He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.

When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.

You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.

You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”

“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”

He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”

“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.

“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.

~~~

2011

“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”

All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

[awearywritersworld]

I would be obsessed with a prince!au Sukuna 👁️👁️ him being the cold ruthless prince but then reader comes and he's not to ruthless anymore haha 🤭

Going back to my previous ask with reader eating a finger, that would be so juicy 👀 the angst of it all sukuna and yuji would be devastated 😭

I hope you've been good Mona🩷

-☁️

prince!sukuna's change in demeanor would creep up on you. he's made it clear he's not interested, so you try your best to steer clear of him.

but he watches you from afar. he hears whispers of your benevolent nature, regardless of whether you're interacting with the royal court or the common folk.

even if you avoid him, you still treat him cordially when duty demands you share one another's company. his wickedness is well known, and yet, it doesn't deter you.

he admires that. though it's a secret, even to himself.

one night as you share your evening meal together, a generally new occurrence, small talk passes between the two of you.

when there's a lull in the conversation, you point out. "you're different now."

this confuses him. "because i inquired as to whether you like the duck?"

you nod, doing little to hide the tug at the corner of your mouth. "three moons ago, you'd have been happy to see me choke on it."

"that's... not true."

"oh? were your sharp remarks meant to convey your fond regard for me?"

it's only when he raises his brow at you that you realize you've gone too far. you inwardly scold yourself for displaying such irreverence.

"my apologies, my prince. i meant no—"

"no matter," he cuts you off. "it... pleases me... to hear you speak so freely."

[grissomesque]

I made this for my kid to show her why soundtracks are a Big Deal but uh if anyone has any requests I will happily cut your unhinged song into a Trek clip.

Music Matters: 1/?

[palmtreepwr]

i actually need to know how sunday joining the astral express is gonna go down. like, does he just show up on the train being like, "Hello, dear Astral Express Crew. I am fully aware that my presence may be... shocking to you all-" and March socks him in the mouth

[rokurokuronashi]

Distractions

Yeah!

[raycatzdraws]

Toon Link is aiming through his skull.

I main as Young Link and Toon Link in ssbu and thought it might be fun to tweak their designs a bit based on the alt costumes I wear and how I play. Their names are Zip and Zop (interchangeably) with botw Link as Zap.

[lilybug-02]

me vibing to the absolute, most broad spectrum of music humanity can conjure

[painted-bees]

I wanna know the psychology behind making up your own silly little guys and becoming obsessed with them. It's like a self-producing infinite seratonin hack.

[reineydraws]

wanted: marine hunter takanome mihawk

[harmonictechnicality]

*no rest for the wicked*

my teensy contribution to @thefreakandthehair's spicy six summer collection 💖 | word count: 3k | rating: T | ao3 link | also, this wouldn't exist if @chocoarts didn't send me a sketch that immediately set off sparklers in my brain so bless youuu ✨

Twenty-six hours. That’s how long Eddie has been up. Twenty-six hours and twelve minutes. The heaviness hanging in his eyes is medieval-level torturous, and the cramp in his left calf is probably permanent by now. 

A sane person who enjoys sleeping might be asking, ‘Why? Why put yourself through this when there’s a perfectly decent bed down the hall?’ And Eddie would be forced to reply back with two, simple words:

Concert. Tickets.

That’s right, Eddie is actively murdering his own brain cells to win two vip tickets on the radio. Twenty-seven hours ago, it seemed like a grand idea. Genius, even. It’s free and minimal effort - he just has to call the station every hour on the dot. No biggie, right?

Ha, sure. Tell that to the muscles in his eyelids.

“How much longer do you have?” Chrissy asks, snagging a magazine from the stack on the couch.

Eddie checks his watch. Huffs out a laugh. “Let’s just say, I could watch the entire Star Wars trilogy including the credits for each one.”

“Translating to...?”

“Seven-ish hours.” Robin quickly chimes. She pops out of her bedroom and joins Chrissy’s side, instantly threading their hands together. They share a look, one that makes Eddie believe in nice things, even in his state of misery. It’s their superpower, injecting their optimistic outlook into the atmosphere. Infectious in the best way. 

“I always forget that you speak fluent nerd.” Chrissy snorts.

“Ouch.” Robin gasps and pulls away, stomping off to their room. Too dramatic to be believable. “Get back to bed before I actually feel offended by that.”

Normally, Eddie is charmed by how hopelessly in love his roommates are with each other. But right now, they are his mortal enemies (well, tied with The Clock), because they get to sleep and he gets to stare at the lightbulb in the ceiling fan. Every now and then, it flickers, which never fails to startle him. 

Good. He desperately needs the extra alertness. 

Another forty-five minutes go by before anything noteworthy happens. Eddie’s other roommate gets off his night shift around one in the morning. The front door squeals as it opens, crackling all the adrenaline leftover in Eddie’s body. 

“Scared the shit out of me, man.” Which could’ve been a literal statement if Eddie hadn’t just taken a bathroom break.

“Gotta get this door fixed.” Steve says. That’s what he always says when it creaks. The reaction never changes, always skating his fingers over the door hinges, mouth twisting to the side. Hands on his hips in disapproval. Eddie has to look away before Steve breaks out his insufferably cute ‘foot tap’ routine. “Hey - why are you still up?”

Ah, yes. Just what Eddie needed. A reminder that it’s fucking late. He finds the energy (or common decency, who knows) to point at the phone. Then to the radio.

“You’re still doing that, huh?”

Eddie nods twice.

“Damn, I’ve never heard you this quiet.” Steve sounds genuinely surprised. A little too smug for Eddie’s liking. “Didn’t know your mouth could stay in a straight line for this long.”

There it is. The rich boy smartassery that will never die. Always lurking in the depths of his genetic makeup.

Eddie claps, total deadpan.

The conversation lulls while Steve messes around in the kitchen for a bit. He’s noisily opening cabinets and clanking dishes around in the sink. Eventually, he walks back into the living room with two beers. 

Both for him apparently. “Well, listen,” he starts out. Kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “I’m pretty wired after work, so if you need some company-”

“Six… hours… left.” Eddie musters out.

“Okay well, I doubt I’ll last that long. But I can give it a shot.”

Eddie smirks, raises both eyebrows. “There’s a dirty joke somewhere in there. Too tired to find it though.”

“Good to know the horny part of your mind is still awake.” Steve gives Eddie a small pat on the head. 

“Oh? That’s a good thing?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.” It’s too direct, Eddie hears it. And now it’s just Out There - his inability to flirt in a subtle way. And yeah, he could blame it on sleep deprivation, but he’s never been known for his mastery of ambiguity so…

The pause goes on long enough for the light to flicker again, the room growing darker with it. Steve takes a swig of his drink and smiles. “It’s good to know, Ed.”

The light flickers even darker.

Eddie is fully awake after that. Which could’ve been part of Steve’s plan - stimulate his brain with flirty comments and keep him up with those melty smiles. It’s no secret that Eddie turns into a hair-twirling loser around this guy. 

Even after living together for a year and seeing one another’s most disgusting habits, he still feels this way. Tight throat, stomach flips. Purely smitten in a way that would nauseate deadbeat poets.

In this moment, however, it’s a wonderful remedy to staying awake throughout the rest of the night. Much more effective than energy drinks and Tootsie Rolls.

Steve ends up on the floor, leaning against the edge of the couch. He sips another beer, recounting some bullshit that happened during his shift at the hotel. Eddie does his best impression of Listening to Steve’s stories, but the words are just buzzing around the glow of Steve’s hair and the shine on his lips. Nodding at seemingly appropriate times is all Eddie currently can offer.

“Sleeping with your eyes open, Munson?”

Eddie blinks hard. “Huh?”

“Creepy, but impressive.” Steve laughs, tapping his hand against Eddie’s leg. “You should add that to the Special Skills column on your resumé.”

“Bold of you to assume I have a resumé.”

They spend the next hour doing just that - adding useless skills to Eddie’s nonexistent resumé. It keeps them busy. Content. Steve smacks Eddie’s knee anytime he laughs, leaves his hand longer every time. Maybe that’s all in Eddie’s semi-dormant mind, especially since Steve shows casual affection to all of his friends. But the warmth of his palm is real enough to have Eddie fully committed to making Steve laugh as much as possible.

“What about… Expert Paper Clip Chain-Maker?” Steve suggests. 

Eddie stares at the chain in his hand, the one he was oblivious to creating. He whips it around like a lasso and then shrugs. “A bit wordy.”

“So you’re saying length matters?”

“Christ on toast, Harrington. You’re awfully quick to jump to that conclusion, aren’t you?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just starts laughing again. Eddie didn’t even need to tell a shitty joke this time. 

And when Steve’s hand hits his knee, sliding slightly up his thigh, Eddie laughs along with him. It’s the only way to cover up the heat rushing to his face.

Eddie enters the realm of delirium with three hours left in his challenge. He slumps onto the floor next to Steve, nudging his shoulder, staring into his sleep-heavy eyes. It’s four in the morning, inhibitions be damned.

“Do you think if you ever visit Europe, they’d call you Harring-metric-ton?” Eddie picks a piece of lint off Steve’s sleeve. Perfect excuse to reach out, move in closer.

Steve groans. “Yikes. But yes, that question keeps me up at night.”

“So that’s why you’re still awake. See, I knew it wasn’t because of my silly little concert tickets.” 

As soon as the words leave his lips, Eddie convinces himself that it’s the truth. Which is so dumb, so stupid. But this seed of insecurity keeps him going, fully projecting his assumptions onto Steve’s harmless comment. Somewhere deep down, buried underneath his exhaustion, Eddie knows it was a joke. But he can’t seem to shut up anymore.

“The riddle has been solved, folks! We finally know why Stevie here is still awake.” Eddie exclaims, flinging his arms out to the side. “Alert Scooby and the gang at once! Mystery Incorporated can finally pack up their magnifying glasses and pursue careers with better health insurance. Ones that covers vision costs this time. It’s what dear, ol' Velma deser-”

“Eddie.” Steve places a hand on Eddie’s arm, holding him still. Was he moving? Oh god, was he shaking? 

Fucking mortifying.

Steve’s thumb swipes across Eddie’s skin, tracing diagonal lines back and forth. “You’re rambling.”

“And you’re…” Eddie loses focus. He looks down at the hypnotic patterns that Steve is making. “There. Doing that.”

Steve stops briefly to flip Eddie’s hand over, starts tracing the lines in his palm instead. The pressure makes Eddie’s heart lurch up into his throat. He can feel it thumping in his neck, faster with every stroke of Steve’s fingers. All he wants to do is close his hand around them, keep Steve there for the rest of the night. Longer if he’d let him.

“I can stop if it’s weird.” Steve’s voice is so much quieter than it was earlier. 

Don’t stop. Eddie thinks. Can’t say it like that because gross. Humiliating and gross. “It’s not weird.”

Steve keeps his focus on the motion, Eddie does the same. They stay like this for a while, just watching. Intently staring over the invisible lines like pages in a novel. Eddie is pretty sure he’s breathing too loud, can hear it above the whistle in the air conditioner. Wonders if Steve can hear it too. 

Probably.

“That’s not why I’m staying awake.” Steve says, never breaking the pattern.

“No?”

“It’s who I’m staying awake for.”

Steve finally stops, right in the center of Eddie’s hand. The air in the room goes dense, weighted with acknowledgment. Something has changed and Eddie can feel it everywhere. 

He tilts forward, pulling his gaze away from his hand and up at Steve’s lips. If he weren’t stuck between half-awake and total-delirium, Eddie would just do it. Kiss Steve the way he’s always wanted to. Syrupy slow and deep. Savoring every second.

He could do it right now, right this second. But his focus starts drifting as he closes his eyes. “Did Chrissy tell you?” Eddie grumbles, almost unintelligible. 

“Tell me what?”

Eddie’s head falls, landing somewhere on Steve’s chest. He inhales the scent of laundry detergent (because Steve and Chrissy are the only avid laundry-doers in the apartment). It’s so soothing, drawing him further into a dreamlike place.

“Tell me what, Ed?”

“That I…” Eddie is nearly asleep before he can finish the thought. The confession:

‘That I’m crazy about you.’

Sunlight hits Eddie first, startles him so much that he jolts upward. Fully awake. It takes a few seconds of furiously rubbing his eyes before the dread kicks in. 

Morning.

It’s morning.

“Shit.”

Eddie fell asleep.

Steve fell asleep.

“Shitshitshit. So many shits!” He fumbles through the labyrinth of blankets and pillows around him, snatching his watch from the coffee table:

10:24 a.m.

“Goddamnit!”

Eddie sinks back down to the floor, clutching the phone that serves him no purpose anymore. All of those hours of waiting and calling for nothing. Even if general admission wasn’t already sold out, it’s not like Eddie could afford tickets on his own. He can barely keep up with his share of the rent. Chrissy had to cover for his grocery run last week and he still hasn’t paid her back.

It’s just so expected too - for him to fuck up like this. Always letting opportunities slip through the cracks, making careless mistakes. No one will be surprised that he failed at such a simple task like calling a fucking radio station.

Eddie sets the phone back on the table and cleans up the living room in a daze. Every now and then, he mutters under his breath about being a total moron. He stays relatively quiet for the most part though. No use in throwing a bitchfest while Steve is blissfully conked out three feet away.

Of course he looks good sleeping too, even in the midst of Eddie’s breakdown. Unfair.

Just before heading back to his room, Eddie hears that familiar door creak. Same one that always sets off Steve’s inner handyman tendencies. 

He looks back to see Chrissy padding towards him with a blanket wrapped around her. For someone who hasn’t had their mood-altering cup of coffee yet, she looks extremely pleased to see him. Maybe she knows about the fate of the concert tickets. Maybe this is an early-risers pity party.

Fucking yay.

“Chris, please don’t try to-”

His words are muffled by Chrissy throwing her arms (and blanket cape) around him. She’s so bouncy, the way she always gets with Robin whenever their favorite song comes on at the karaoke bar. He pats her on the back and clears his throat, still trying to piece together what this exchange could be about. However, Eddie is functioning on a few hours of sleep, so his cognitive skills are groggy at best.

She gives him one more squeeze and then looks up, positively gleaming. “I knew it! I knew it would finally happen!”

“That I’d screw up for the umpteenth time in my life? Gee thanks, Chris.” Eddie says.

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and Steve!” She whisper-yells back.

Was she snooping on them last night? He wouldn’t put it past her, snoopiness is the foundation of their friendship. Well, whatever Chrissy thought she saw, she’s wrong. Sure, Steve and Eddie flirted, both letting some potentially mutual feelings slip out.

But it was all cut short by Eddie passing out mid-flirt. God knows how Steve took that reaction. Probably assumed Eddie was so bored that he would rather sleep than makeout with him. Or worse, that Eddie was pretending to sleep to let him down easy.

Christ, he doesn’t wanna think about that right now. Not while he’s still mourning the loss of his precious tickets.

“Hate to break it to you, honeyjam, but nothing happened.” Eddie shakes his head, gesturing to Steve who hasn’t budged from the recliner. “It’s just me over here and Steve over there. No conjunction connecting us together in that way.”

He can already tell Chrissy isn’t buying it. She’s getting that little forehead wrinkle right above her eyebrows, just like an angry cartoon character. Her best attempt at intimidation. “You didn’t see what I saw.” 

“Gay desperation?”

“No, you jackass. Come here!”

Chrissy yanks Eddie into his bedroom, demanding for him to lock the door. He listens, mainly because the intimidation is starting to work a little. They sit at the edge of the bed and she begins to explain everything she saw:

Steve constructing a wall of blankets and pillows around Eddie to ensure he slept comfortably. Steve waiting by the phone, tapping his foot in that insufferably cute way that Eddie loves so much. Steve scoring the tickets, celebrating quietly to himself.

“How long were you standing at the door, weirdo?” Eddie teases her to avoid the way his stomach is twisting around her words. 

Chrissy shushes him and squeals. “And he kissed your cheek!”

“Liar.”

“He did, I swear! He kissed you on the cheek or the chin or the nose. I don't know which one for sure because my view was obstructed by all of your hair.”

Eddie instinctively combs his fingers through a few strands, undoing the knotted pieces. Not all of them, but enough to keep his hands busy while he thinks through this. Processing. “And you’re sure it wasn’t a dream?”

“Positive.”

“What about a hallucination? Didn’t Byers make a batch of those infamous brownies again?”

Chrissy gives a deep sigh. “Whatever. You’re hopeless.” She shrugs the blanket back over her arms and heads toward the door. More than a fair assessment, Eddie can’t argue even if he wanted to (he always does). 

He stares at the line of posters along his wall, letting Chrissy’s words replay over and over. Imagining what it might have felt like. If Steve’s breath was warm or if his lips were soft. Eddie wonders how it looked to have Steve dipping down to his level. Staying so quiet, so careful not to disturb him. The visuals swarm his head until there’s nothing left but Steve. 

Him and Steve. Connecting them together in that way after all.

So, Eddie gets up and walks back into the living room. He takes in the view of Steve curled up in the recliner, mouth slightly parted open. Chest falling with every sniffle, not quite a snore.

There’s so many emotions while looking at him. Eddie can’t just pin one down to fully comprehend what's going on. All he can do is repeat the scene that’s occupying his mind, settling in his bones.

“Here,” he whispers, placing another blanket across Steve’s lap. It’s feathery gentle, more than he intends for it to be. So gentle that Steve doesn’t shift or stir. 

Eddie takes a deep breath and bends down, close enough to notice all the little details. The ones he’s been too sheepish to indulge in before last night. 

The tiny hairs on Steve’s forearm. The creases in his t-shirt. The bit of dried toothpaste on his chin. None of it should make his cheeks feel this flushed, but they do.

He lets the rush of bravery wash through him as he kisses Steve on the tip of his nose. Just the way Steve must’ve done to him. It’s swift, lighter than he means for it to be. Barely touching. But it’s enough to switch his heart rate up a few notches, pulsing jumping in his wrist.

Eddie steps away, waiting to see if Steve wakes up. Not entirely sure if he wants that or if he’d rather keep this memory to himself. 

“Thanks… by the way.” Eddie adds, brushing the tips of his fingers over Steve’s hand. Wishing he could trace the lines in his palm. Rewind back to last night and pause it there indefinitely. “I’ll tell you again when you’re up, but yeah.”

“Thank you, Steve Harrington.”

[callumsgirl]

Beautiful Things...that I've got

pairing: Austin Butler x female reader (Elizabeth)

summary: Elizabeth is young and beautiful when she starts a bartender job at the Rough Wheel. A dimly lit bar known for its jukeboxes, pool tables and the Outlaw MC drinking and hanging around.

Elizabeth had been working at the bar for two months and had had a crush on Austin ever since she first saw him playing pool and he called her a Babydoll in a raspy, warm voice, and handed her his credit card. It only got worse from that moment on, because to say Elizabeth was inexperienced with men was an understatement. She was 21, unkissed and a virgin, and Outlaw's number two had it in for her.

warnings: mostly flirting, age gab (21 y.o. and 33 y.o.), light and heavy smut, kissing, sexual unexperienced woman, virgin woman, first sexual experiences, some hard wording, use of pet names, fist fight, blood and smut, tears and mental pain

word count: 15,7 k

A/N: English is my second language. Please have mercy with me!

POV Elizabeth // Chicago, USA

Today is my two month anniversary, and all of my classes at the college are going pretty well for me. My grades are impeccable, I'm almost done writing my senior thesis, and I've made $60 in tips in my last two shifts.

Also, my mother had finally stopped trying to fix me up with a smart young man from her church. She tries to do that all the time and it's annoying. Mom always wants to get me a good match. She's hopelessly romantic. I let out a silent sigh. After combing my hair, I put it up in a plait. A young woman with moss-green eyes and freckles on her cheeks looks at me in the mirror. Hoping to look halfway decent next to the other female waitresses and earn a few dollars in tips, I dab a little lip gloss on my lips.

I'm wearing my favourite dress. It's red, cute and not too short for working behind the bar. I made the mistake of wearing a skirt that was too short once in my first week at the bar…and it was awkward and disgusting when Jimmy - that weird old guy who always sits at the bar - saw my half-naked bum.

Since then I've only worn jeans, skirts or dresses that cover my thighs. I'm also the only one of the waitresses who doesn't wear red lipstick. Callie, a bartender friend of mine, thinks I'm a prude and pretty stupid to miss out on all the tips just because I don't want to wear red lipstick.

To be honest, I need every cent, but I'm not going to earn it by wearing red lipstick, batting my eyes and sitting on some guy's lap. I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath.

I take one last look in the mirror before I leave the student hall of residence and get on my bike to cycle to the bar. My shift starts at 6pm and it takes me about 20 minutes on my bike.

When I arrive at the bar, it's still quiet and empty. I put my bag in my locker, tie an apron around my waist and start taking stock of the alcoholic drinks and snacks.

Just as I'm ticking off the last few lines of the list, Callie comes into the bar and smiles at me. She is tall, athletic and has flawless skin. Her full lips are all glossy and dark red. Callie looks beautiful and sexy without much effort. Life can be really cruel. I curl my lips a little enviously.

"Hey sweet girl. You look pretty. Did you put the dress on for Austin?" she teases me and winks as her hands clasp the hem of my red dress and she strokes it. She really winks at me!

I shake my head gently and feel my cheeks flush.

Damn it. Calm down Elizabeth, I think and give her a shy smile. Just one comment about Austin and my heartbeat goes out of control and I look like a tomato.

Sometimes I think she has an idea of how sheltered I grew up. That my parents kept me a million miles away from all the boys, that all I had to worry about was making sure I got good grades. But then she winks at me and makes these… comments about red lips and that I work in a bar full of hot bikers.

This bar is definitely a place my parents would never have let me go. Plus, this bar is far from my parents' idea of where I should work and who I should hang out with. But I haven't told them about my job yet.

The hourly wage is okay. The tips don't make me rich, but it helps me get through the month and I'm certainly not going to call my parents and ask for a dime.

I bite the inside of my cheek and lower my eyes, embarrassed. "Don't be silly, Callie," I laugh nervously. "I'm wearing this dress because I like it. Austin wouldn't even look at me if I - I gesture in her direction with my pen in hand, pursing my lips at her revealing outfit. "…if I wore something like you. It just doesn't suit me." I can feel my cheeks getting even hotter and quickly brush a loose strand of hair that has come loose from my plait behind my ear.

"You're joking, aren't you?" she asks, raising an eyebrow curiously. Her make-up is striking and dark. Her green eyes look so hypnotizing and intense with the black eyeliner and her red lips distract me.

I shake my head again and turn to more important tasks. Namely, finally getting through this list before the bar fills up.

"No," I reply and shrug my shoulders. "It's obvious that I don't fit in here and I'm sure no one here is interested in me. Look at me." I can't help but smile. It's obvious that I grew up differently and don't belong here. I stand out with my freckles, my clothes and the fact that I hardly wear any make-up. I often feel out of place. That's often the case. I press my lips together.

Callie smirks and brushes another strand of hair out of my face. "You're really sweet, Lizzie, and naïve," she says, pinching my cheek.

I gasp indignantly and frown. "What?" I ask in shock and blink at her. She can't be serious, can she?

"You're clever, and pretty, and cute. You're a lot more dangerous to the boys here than you think. Plus a lot of the men calling you by pet names. It's a good sign and more money for you, sweet girl." Then Callie turns her back to me and starts polishing beer glasses.

What nonsense, I think to myself and stare at her for a few more seconds until I get back to work.

Two hours later, the bar is overcrowded and I'm mixing various drinks in piecework time. I cut fresh lemon slices and decorate cocktail glasses. Then I pour beer and polish glasses again.

The air is warm, stale and when the front door opens again, a cool breeze blows over my heated, slightly sweaty skin. Only now do I realize how out of breath I actually am and how hungry I am. As if on cue, my stomach grumbles and I sigh in bittersweet despair. My break isn't for another two hours and judging by the rush at the bar, I'll be making a lot more cocktails before then. I let out another sigh and chew on my lower lip. The thought of my turkey sandwiches in my rucksack makes my stomach growl and I feel sick.

I roll my eyes. Pull yourself together, Elizabeth.

Then I work through the customers' drinks requests. I mix cocktails and pour beer. I fill the ice and lemons, rinse the glasses and polish them afterwards. Another blonde comes to the bar and waves for a waitress. Just as I'm about to approach her, Callie comes towards me and sends me on my break. Thank God!

I devour my sandwich and an apple during my short break between the current swing and the next. Then I stand behind the bar again and push full glasses across the counter. I'm slicing up more lemons and limes when someone throws a penny into the jukebox and selects a song. This Live by Curtis Stigers.

It's loud in here and it's hard to hear the music, but when the first sounds come through to me, I know immediately that he is here. Only one person in the bar would dare to play just this one song. I exhale loudly and my fingers tremble as I place the lemon and lime slices in a bowl.

My eyes sting slightly and I squint. While everything around me is black and yet so loud, I try to calm my frayed nerves. My heartbeat speeds up and a shiver runs down my spine. I bite my lower lip and whirl around to the counter as a woman's voice calls for the waitress again.

I see him out of the corner of my eye as I'm mixing two Bloody Marys. "Have a nice evening," I murmur in a loud voice and push the glasses over to the blonde woman waiting impatiently for her drinks.

As soon as she's gone, I wipe my hands on my apron and take two or three steps to the left. From here I can see the pool table, and I swallow hard when I recognize Austin among the bikers. It's not unusual for the MC to come here, but it's nerve-wracking for me. It's the closest I've ever been to a bunch of law-breakers on roaring motorcycles.

Young - and attractive, very attractive. He is tall, wears washed-out blue jeans and a black sleeveless top, with his biker jacket over it and has dark blond unruly hair and crazy blue eyes with which he surveys the entire bar.

I take another step closer to the end of the counter and scrutinize him. Describing Austin as handsome doesn't even begin to do him justice. I bite my lip and continue to stare. I don't normally do this, but I can't help myself…he's just so good looking.

"Oh, my God," I moan softly and lean over the bar a little, standing on my tiptoes as Austin takes the pool stick from a younger guy. A prospect I guess. They're all wearing biker jackets and I can feel my pulse fluttering under my skin.

The jackets of the older members are decorated with various patches and the prospects wear completely naked jackets. I don't really know much about life in an MC, but I've overheard conversations from the girls at the bar and know that the prospects have to earn their patches. With character and courage, sometimes with strangely dangerous tasks and other times they have to take a beating. I think it's exaggerated and dangerous, but nobody asks me.

"Damn, kiss me, fuck me," I sigh and watch as he leans his upper body over the pool table, focuses on the balls in front of him and then shoots. An electric wave rushes through my entire body and I press my lips together helplessly.

"Yeah, you'd like that," Callie suddenly mumbles behind me, scaring the hell out of me. I don't even know that I said it out loud.

But Austin isn't paying any attention to me and is smoking his cigarettes and playing pool with his boys. I press my lips and eyes together in shame and turn to face to Callie. "I didn't…"

"Shut up, sweet girl," she puts a finger to my lips and leans closer to me, her lips almost touching my cheek as she murmurs in my ear: "I'd fuck him too. He's really hot."

The two of us watch Austin as he leans on the edge of the pool table with both arms. The subdued light makes shadows dance across the deep ridges of his muscles. His muscles are firm and pronounced and as he slowly raises his head, mumbles something to himself and shoos one of the contenders away, our eyes meet. I need a moment to find my voice again. If this man had any semblance of a middle-class and less dangerous life, I would probably throw myself at him. But he lives for the MC and that… is not for me.

I have been crushing on him since the first night he handed me his credit card, called me with a raspy voice Babgirl for once, and asked me to start a tab for him. That was the starting point and it only got worse from there.

I gasp out loud - once again I feel caught out tonight and as the corners of his mouth lift slowly and sensually, his lips curl into a knowing, dirty smile, my stomach tightens. I stumble back half a step and bump my back against Callie's torso.

"Sorry," I mumble breathlessly and turn around in a flash. I disappear into the break room and sit there for five minutes until my heart rate calms down.

Pull yourself together, my sense of honor whispers to me and pulls my shoulders back. It raises its little chin to the sky and then gives me an encouraging nod. Get out there and keep serving drinks, Elizabeth.

I have regained some control of myself as I step behind the bar. It takes all my mental strength not to turn my head and look back at the pool table, but I persevere. Over the next half hour, I continue to serve drinks and the memories of Austin are pushed back into my mind. However, the biting feeling of shame in my chest continues to remind me that I've made an idiot of myself.

That's just the way you are, the cynical little voice in my head etches, jabbing me in the ribs. Prudish, untouched and not wanted.

Austin is in a different league to me. I scrape together the last shreds of self-respect and lock all my thoughts of him away in a little box in the back of my head.

I am overcome with nausea and only by taking deep breaths do I manage to shake off the feeling. I turn to polishing more glasses when I suddenly feel a dark, slightly cheerful and vibrant presence behind me. My back muscles tense up and I lift my chin slightly. My senses are on alert.

I hope it's not Jimmy again, I think wistfully and curl my lips into an unpleasant grimace. Just as I've mentally resigned myself to having to deal with Jimmy today, I hear a pleasantly hoarse voice murmur: "Hey Babydoll, are you free?"

I stifle an annoyed groan and grit my teeth. Then I breathe in and out quietly before I start draining another glass of beer. Austin called me Babydoll, again and a tiny part of me likes it. Very much so. Apart from the life he leads, which I absolutely don't want for myself, he's insanely handsome. I mean, what's the big deal if I look at him from time to time. As far as I know, no one has ever died from being adored from afar. My self-esteem grinds its teeth alarmingly and crosses its arms in front of its chest. I shake my head slightly, worried about the direction my thoughts are taking, and grab another glass to polish. "I'm busy. Please leave me alone."

"Doesn't look particularly busy," Austin replies. "If you're already behind the bar-"

The day had started so well and now - after my embarrassing reaction to what? A brief eye contact and I'm done. I interrupt him, annoyed and angry at the lapse in my self-control. In one fluid motion, I turn to him and the words flow uninhibited from my lips: "Then what, asshole?"

Shit! I'm fucked, I think the moment I recognize my words. I open my eyes. My subconscious lifts its little head in shock and stares back and forth between me and Austin. It's completely beside itself and hisses angrily: Are you crazy? I stumble a step back and my butt bang against the back of the bar. My hands are shaking and I barely manage to put the glass of beer down on the counter.

A few seconds pass and everything around me suddenly happens in slow motion. The music is muffled and only reaches me to a limited extent, the shouts of the waiting guests are far away and the laughter over at the pool table barely touches me.

"Asshole, hmm? I wouldn't have trusted you to have such a dirty mouth, babygirl." Austin's ice-blue eyes scrutinize me attentively. The intensity of his gaze and demeanor gives me the creeps.

"Don't call me, babygirl", I grumble angrily. Then I hesitate and lower my gaze. I stare at my sneakers and then raise my head again, heart pounding. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have insulted you."

"Ohh, you can call me whatever you want. I've been called far worse," he laughs lightly and licks his lips.

Oh, I can immediately think of some suitable names; arrogant idiot, fool, arrogant ass…I follow the movements of his body and watch as he rests his elbows on the counter, his muscles bulging, and then murmurs dangerously darkly, "Why not? Do you have a boyfriend I should know about?"

"What?" I squeak and blink like crazy. "Do I what?", I add. My gaze is still glued to his lips. Wow, what pink, full lips. I wonder how they would feel on mine....hmm. Stop! I squint my eyes. No, I think angrily. He's a tease and he's making fun of me.

"Do you have a boyfriend, little girl?" he asks again, continuing to look me in the eye intensely as he leans a little further over the counter and reaches for a bottle of brandy.

"Hey," I grumble. "Put it back down," I demand of him and there's that amused glint in his eyes again. To my surprise, or perhaps more likely his own, he puts the bottle back down and raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. At least make me a drink."

I snort and step hesitantly on the spot. None of my colleagues seem to have noticed what's going on between him and me.

Then it suddenly occurs to me that he could get me fired quicker than I'd like. A nasty look from him and Tom, the owner will sack me. I lower my eyes to my feet once more and then tighten my shoulders. I take two steps to the front bar and pick up the bottle of brandy.

"With cola? With ice?," I ask and take a heavy crystal glass from one of the lower cupboards.

"No, just ice," he shakes his head and as I pour the brandy into the glass, he doesn't take his eyes off me. As I break some ice in the cooler, I don't notice how he slowly raises his left arm and shortly afterwards I feel his rough, warm knuckles on my cheek. When his knuckles touch my skin, I feel like sparks are flying. Embarrassed, I pull my head back. Must have been static energy. I blink, about as fast as my heart is beating. I lift my head slightly and look at him with a slightly trembling lower lip.

"What are you doing?", I whisper. "Please stop." I turn my head slightly to avoid his touch, even though it burns me and feels good.

Again, he doesn't answer my question. Instead, he repeats his, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Why does he want to know? He's certainly not checking out his chances with me. I inwardly roll my eyes at this unnecessary comment and the clear side-swipe from my subconscious.

I sigh half annoyed at his arrogance, half shocked that he's touching me. "No, I don't have a boyfriend. Please let go of me."

"That's a real shame," he murmurs, his husky voice doing strangely heated things to me. I'm blinking too fast, breathing too loudly and my hands are shaking badly as I put the full brandy glass on the counter and push it over to him. "You have really nice lips. Not as made up as the other girls here."

I turn deep red. Once again, and when he recognizes the heated glow on my cheeks, he finally leans back slowly. But before his knuckles leave my cheek, his thumb brushes over my bottom lip, tracing its outline. My breath catches and I can't move. Austin raises the glass to his lips and takes a small sip. "That really is a waste, babygirl," he replies, and I swallow hard.

As soon as the meaning of his words get through to me, I tear myself away from him. With unsteady legs, I stumble back and slap his hand away. "Stop it. I'm not one of your whores!"

I feel hurt and humiliated. Really offended by his words.

His eyes flash in astonishment. His slapped hand hovers in the air for a few moments and then he lowers it. He still looks unimpressed and completely calm. But the expression in his blue eyes has changed. In addition to the glitter, shadows now dance in his eyes and it's really creepy.

I really did beat him. Fuck!

Well, not really, but it was wrong. Now he has every reason to have me thrown out.

He strokes his own lip with the thumb that was just touching mine. The way he strokes his lips is hypnotizing and dangerous at the same time. "Hmmm… you're not really," he murmurs, fixing me very slowly. "If you were one, my hands would be around your pretty, slender neck right now."

He can't possibly be serious. My pulse quickens. Why is he upsetting me like this? Is it because of his outrageously good looks? Is it his penetrating gaze? Or is it because he keeps tracing his lower lip with his thumb and glaring at me menacingly? Can't he finally stop doing that?

I catch my breath and unconsciously lift my own hands to my neck. He grins wickedly. "Exactly… I would squeeze and squeeze until your eyes glaze over and your beautiful lips open slightly. I would make you beg and punish you", he confirms without any humor in his voice and stares at me.

"You're physotic," I reply in a low voice. I hardly trust my own voice anymore. The words slip out before I can stop them.

He gently shakes his head again, amused by my choice of words. Then everything happens very quickly. Austin leans over the bar again and grabs my wrist, pulling me towards him with a jerk. The tips of my feet touch the baseboard of the bar and I gasp in his face, startled and frightened.

I blink around, looking for help, but still no one is looking after me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Callie at the other end of the bar and I want to call out to her, but one look into Austin's eyes and I fall silent. He raises his free hand and brushes a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. My whole body trembles with tension and sheer fear.

"No, I'm not," he contradicts me. "I just grew up differently to you, babygirl," he explains, lowering his eyelids briefly. His voice is surprisingly soft. Austin stares at the neckline of my dress from above and can see my breasts rising and falling quickly. Then his eyes fall on my necklace. He licks his lips and takes the small cross between his fingers.

I expect him to say some stupid line about God and Jesus, but none of it comes out of his lips. Instead, he leans down so that his cheek brushes my chin and I raise my hands, clasping his wrist as he strokes my lips. "Just as innocent and pure as I suspected."

"You don't know anything about me", I stutter and in the next moment, I close my eyes and press my lips together. God, how can anyone be as stupid as me?

Austin is grinning and he is so close to me that I can breathe in his scent. He smells intoxicatingly of aftershave, soap and engine oil. I greedily soak up the smell.

"Oh no?" he asks, amused. "Then listen carefully Elizabeth. You're young, so damn pretty and innocent. I could have you broken and floating in five fucking minutes. Don't tell me you're a bad girl who kisses random strange men and spreads her legs," he stops and I jerk my eyes open. Austin leans back enough to look me in the eye again. "You're pure, you're perfect, and yet you're in this fucked up place…with me."

"Please let go off me", I beg.

Austin tilts his head slightly and looks at me. "You've got my attention now and I'm not done with you yet."

His words are both a threat and a promise. What does it all mean?

There are so many confusing thoughts chasing around in my head. I can't bring order to the chaos and when Austin brushes my lips again, muscles I didn't know I had tighten deep inside. "Do you know what the problem is with beautiful things in life, Elizabeth?"

I shake my head, barely noticing. Somehow I fear something bad and I try to pull away from him. The corners of his mouth twitch again. Sick bastard! He's having way too much fun with this whole thing. Intimidating young women like me and making fools of them is probably one of his habits. Austin smiles, fascinated, and loosens his grip on my wrist. A brief illusion of control and freedom that I try to take advantage of. I tug and tug, but he tightens his grip again.

"Shh, shh," he whispers. "You don't have to panic, babygirl. Just answer my question."

"I don't know, what's with the beautiful things, Austin?" I sound much whinier than I would like and shrug my shoulders cluelessly. I just want to get out of this bar and crawl into my little bed in the dorm.

"They are only beautiful until they are broken. What will break you?"

He loosens his grip and slowly lets go of me. I immediately increase the distance to him and wipe my palms over my cheeks. There are a few tears and I quickly wipe them away. Then I rub my wrist gently and look at him, scared and angry.

There is a satisfied, ashamed grin on his lips as he stands up and pushes the brandy glass over the counter. He toasts me and strolls back to the pool table.

I wrap my arms around my torso and try miserably to calm my nerves and my raging heartbeat. I just want to get out of here and wash the entire day off my skin. But when I look over at the wall clock, it's only 11 p.m.

I keep glancing nervously over my shoulder and catch Austin staring in my direction. Maybe this is another one of his strange habits, I think distractedly and purse my lips.

Then a rarely romantic thought rises up in the depths of my mind and I wonder if there is any hope left that there is still some light shimmering in Austin. I'm naïve, but not naïve enough to think I can change him. I realized early on that I'm not the girl that guys quit their jobs or move across the country for. A guy certainly wouldn't give up his lifestyle and values for me. Not when it involves motorcycling and a god damn MC.

It's after midnight when Callie goes into the break and the bar is half empty. I start refilling a few shots, washing glasses and wiping down the bar. When I've done everything behind the bar, I grab a fresh cloth and start wiping down the empty tables in the entrance area. I replace the burnt-out candles with new ones and refill the serving dispenser and cutlery.

It takes me about ten minutes to finish the first tables and say goodbye to the other regulars. Austin and his biker friends are still there. While some continue to play pool or darts, Austin sits on a chair. He sits upside down on it and leans his arms over the backrest, holding a half-empty glass in one hand. A cigarette burns between his lips and I quickly look away from him when I realize how much I'm staring at him. Just after… everything.

"This is so stupid," I mutter to myself after turning my back on him. "Get over him , Elizabeth!" I wipe down the next tables. Some have stains, others are sticky. I scrub like crazy. I'm finally done, my hands a little rough and dry from the detergent. Just as I'm about to disappear behind the counter, I bump into a guy.

I squeak, startled, and stammer: "Sorry, I didn't see you."

"No problem," a pleasantly warm voice replies, and I feel two large hands on my upper arms, gently pushing me back a few steps. "Didn't see you, sweetheart."

I think his name is Benny. He's so young and a prospect in the MC. He does the dirty work and has to be pushed around by the older members.

But for what?, I ask myself.

I take a closer look at him and notice that he has a nice smile, even though he's completely drunk. His brown, wispy hair sticks out in all directions. His dark eyes are narrowed.

"It's okay," I smile. "Maybe you should go home. You've had a lot to drink," I suggest in a cautious voice.

He looks at me silently for a breath, maybe two. Then he nods slightly and makes a slightly snivelling face. "I can't leave until the others do. That's what being new is like."

"Ohh," I gasp in surprise. "I didn't know that."

"It's alright", he reply. "You're really pretty by the way", Benny adds.

His thumbs rub lightly over my bare upper arms and I start to shiver. I tilt my head back slightly and giggle. "Really?" I ask. "Am I pretty?"

He frowns in confusion. "Yeah…"

"Benny, come here." A harsh, hoarse voice cuts through the air. I feel Benny's fingers tighten around my upper arms. Inevitably, I hold my breath and take half a step back. Benny drops his arms and when his hands leave my skin, I feel a chill run through me.

"I'm sorry," he begins. But once again his words are interrupted by Austin's hoarse, strained voice. I press my lips together and close my eyes.

"It was nice talking to you, Benny." I say with a small smile and circle around him.

Just before I stand behind the bar again, he murmurs in a q uiet voice, "I'd like to talk to you more often."

The corners of my mouth twitch and for the first time in a few hours, something feels normal, and nice. I nod slightly, "Okay Benny."

From a distance, I hear a chair scraping loudly across the wooden floor, and then Austin appears in the corner of my eye. He comes towards me with determined steps and I open my eyes in shock as he stretches out an arm and jerks Benny around by the shoulder. For a fraction of a moment, Benny is completely surprised, then he tries in vain to push Austin away from him. Austin wraps a hand around Benny's neck and holds him tight. But it is futile. Austin presses him closer to his chest and his lips almost touch the shell of Benny's ear as he whispers hoarsely in his ear. Meanwhile, his icy blue eyes lock on me. An unstoppable storm rages in them and I stumble back.

Benny looks completely tense. He nods mechanically to everything Austin hisses into his ear. Then Austin lets go of Benny's neck. I breathe a sigh of relief. My heart is pounding in my throat as Austin presses Benny's cheek flat against the sticky counter with a deafening slap. Benny groans painfully, but makes no sign of resisting.

"Do you hear me?" Austin hisses angrily. "You will never talk to her or look at her again or I'll break more than your fucking ribs."

"Austin," I scream, terrified. "He didn't do anything."

"Shut up, baby girl. He needs to learn his place." For a split second, I see something like humility and remorse in his eyes. Then it's gone, leaving behind the dark shadows and the raw aggression that runs through his veins.

I stumble back a few more steps until my legs hit the back of the counter. My fingers rebel as I clutch my hands hard around the edge of the counter, turning my head to the side as Austin pushes it down on the counter once more. A whimper escapes me and I immediately slap my hands over my face.

"Now take it like a man, Benny," he demands and lets him go. Austin takes a few steps away from him and takes off his jacket. He hands it to a guy with a long white beard. I think his name is Hank.

The scene in front of me makes no sense to me at all. I want to intervene and object, but I don't understand what this is all about. My lips open, but I close my mouth again. What should I say?

The other bikers have now also stood up and some of them, mainly the older ones, are watching the show with amusement. Then Knickers comes over to the bar and leans sideways on the counter. He gives me a surprisingly sympathetic look. As if he can grasp my confusion, he says, "It's not personal, sweetheart. Those are the rules at the MC and Benny has to respect them."

"But he only spoke to me," I mumble in exasperation. Austin's lips are curled into a promising grin. The tip of his tongue darts out from between his lips and he moistens them. Then he raises his hand and holds up exactly one finger. "You have one free stroke, Benny. Then I'll finish you off."

"What?" I gasp. "Hank?" I chastise in shock and open my eyes. "He's not really hitting him, is he?"

"Relax, little one. It'll be over quickly." He pats my hand like I'm five years old.

"No." I shake my head wildly. "I can't let that happen." I'm halfway to stepping out from behind the bar when Knickers grabs my hand, gently but firmly. "Stay here, little one. Austin can be a moody son of a bitch, but he's fair."

Fair?! This is a really bad joke. I audibly expel the air from my lungs and watch as Austin encourages Benny with a wave of his hand. "Go on!" he shouts.

Benny raises his fists and in the next moment he dashes forward with a big stride. He swings his right fist and misses Austin's chin by a hair's breadth. I squeal and squeeze Hank's hand.

Then they circle each other like predators and it's as if Austin is taunting him and deliberately not landing any hits. A frightening darkness flickers in his blue eyes again and I bite my lower lip. Benny takes advantage of the moment of inattention and delivers a brutal left uppercut to Austin. I squeeze my eyes shut and the next time I open them, Austin is wiping his thumb over his split lip and spitting blood onto the scratched wooden floor of the bar.

"You little fucker!" Austin curses and spits again, this time right at Benny's feet. This is followed by two quick steps and a combination of uppercuts and frontal punches to Benny's ribcage.

A deafening crack followed by pain-filled moans pierces the bar and my ears. Benny sinks to his knees and a breath later Austin pushes him to the floor and starts hitting him with wild combinations of punches. All I can see is spurting blood and hear loud, uncontrolled breathing.

I pull my hand out from under Hank's and flee to the back of the bar. As soon as I reach the back office, I push through the crack in the door and close the door behind me. Salty tears run down my cheeks and I try to contain the adrenaline rushing through my body. I stroke my cheeks, then my hair and walk in circles.

My head is spinning. What the hell just happened? What have I got myself into?

"Fuck," I mumble breathlessly. "Benny…what have I done," I cry. I throw myself onto the brown leather couch and pull my legs close to my chest, crying bitter tears. I am overcome by a wave of guilt. It all happened so fast - one second I was wiping the table and the next Austin was pining over some poor, innocent guy…because of me. I am the reason for this outburst of brutal, bloody violence. My chest rises and falls heavily and I gasp desperately for air. Tears blur my vision and I sniffle, and sniffle. It's no use and within a few minutes my nose is completely blocked and my cheeks are burning from the salty tears. I wipe my face roughly with my hands.

I'm so lost in my thoughts and tears that I don't even notice the heavy footsteps approaching me. It's only when the office door opens and Austin steps into the room that I raise my head, startled. My legs tremble and my fingers feel numb and cold as I struggle to my feet. Defiantly, I jut my chin up and sniffle: "I didn't invite you in."

"You didn't have to, babygirl," he replies harshly.

Damn it, go away, I plead silently and when he doesn't move, I scrutinize him from head to toe. My gaze first falls on his clenched fists. His knuckles are swollen, partially burst open and full of blood. I feel sick in an instant. I quickly turn my eyes away from his hands and look him in the face. His ice-blue eyes gleam wildly and impenetrably in my direction and I bite my lower lip. His lower lip has split open and blood is slowly drying on his chin. I swallow hard and turn away from him. "I don't want to see you. Please go away!"

Again, there is no answer. I don't hear the door either and the next moment I feel two warm, large hands resting on my upper arms and turning me around. His arrogance pisses me off and I want to scream at him, but at the same time I'm terrified of him. Austin has just beaten up a man…over an innocent conversation.

"That's not true," he insists in a gentle voice. "Why are you crying?" he whispers. He hugs me to him with one arm while he lets the fingers of his other hand glide tenderly over my cheek. I avert my gaze and close my eyes. His fingertips trace the contours of my face and when his thumb strokes my lower lip, his breath catches and I open my eyes. Austin looks me in the eye, and I return his smoldering, bewildered gaze before his shapely mouth catches my attention. Despite the swelling already setting in and the dried blood, his lips are still pink and full. For the first time in my twenty-one years of life, I want to be kissed. Even if all the circumstances speak against it.

Damn it, kiss me!, I beg him silently.

"You hit him," I whisper in a trembling voice. I'm paralyzed, completely captivated by him. I stare at his mouth, spellbound, and Austin looks down at me with a darkly veiled gaze. He cups his palm around my cheek and chin. His touch forces me to lean towards him.

"He was looking at you," he explains and I stare at him, confused.

What? "Just like every other guest tonight. Do you even hear what you're saying?" I ask, frowning. I raise my arms and press my palms to his chest, which turns out to be a clear mistake. He doesn't move an inch and feeling his warm, firm muscles and heartbeat under my fingers feels so wrong and yet so outrageously good.

"Even if I explained it to you, you wouldn't understand," he sighs and strokes my cheek again. This time his cracked knuckles touch my skin and I flinch. Austin shows no pain, though. "The rules in MC are very specific. He had to understand that there are rules, and you're one of them, babygirl." He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head almost imperceptibly, as if to answer my unspoken question. When he opens his eyes again, the expression in his blue eyes is distant and there is a steely determination in them.

"Elizabeth, I'm exactly what you don't want out of life," he whispers.

Excuse me? How does he know that? Where did this sudden change of direction come from? Surely that's my decision alone, even if he's absolutely right and my reason applauds his words. My thoughts swirl out of disappointment at his confusing rejection. "You don't want me! I'm fucked up," he announces, swallowing hard. "I'd only break you," he adds hoarsely, gently pushing me away from him.

No!, my subconscious screams as he detaches himself from me and half turns away. Suddenly I feel very lonely and exposed. He watches my reaction carefully and a thought flashes through my mind: I wanted to be kissed, I made it damn obvious, and he didn't do it. He doesn't desire me.

I feel like a naive fool.

"You can't just say something like that and then walk away!" I mutter indignantly. The disappointment at his rejection and the cryptic meaning of his words make me angry. I grab his wrist and force him to look at me. "What do you mean I'm part of these MC rules?"

Austin looks at me silently for a while. Then he nods slowly and licks his lips. "Okay babygirl," he murmurs softly.

How can just a few words sound so enticing? I let go of his wrist and sit down on the brown couch. I look at him expectantly and watch as he somehow searches for the right words. Wow! I didn't think it was possible that someone like him - dark and dangerous - could be speechless; reaching for the right words.

"Some of us enjoy certain…privileges because of our rank in the club. We eat first, drink first, pick women," he pauses and rubs his knuckles together. "I picked you, and that includes the other guys keeping their distance from you."

"You did what? Picked me out, reserved me?" I shout at him angrily and stand up. I don't normally tend to use loud words and I immediately lower my voice again. Shouting has never helped anyone.

I straighten my shoulders and stare at Austin. My pulse starts to race. Something tightens in my stomach and the next moment I push past him wordlessly to leave the room. I can't believe it - I feel objectified, like an thing that can be reserved. My eyes start to sting again and I bite the inside of my cheek. This evening is a nightmare. I just want it to be over and I can leave. I'm sure if I find Callie and tell her I'm not feeling well, she'll let me go.

Just as I grasp the doorknob, an arm wraps around my waist from behind and spins me around. I collide with Austin's chest and gasp in shock. His fingertips tighten their grip around my waist and squeeze the fabric of my dress. He grabs my chin with his other hand and forces me to look him in the eye. My lower lip trembles and my choppy breath collides with his as I open my lips slightly. Austin stares at me, dark and promising. Is he going to kiss me after all?, I wonder, and in the next moment I receive a powerful jab between the ribs. My inner voice warns me and shrieks wildly. Fight him off, growls my subconscious. I silence it.

"Yes and no…I was protecting you with it, Elizabeth! Don't you understand that at all?" he asks, his jaw grinding.

How is he trying to protect me? He reserves me and puts his brand on me, and then?

"Protecting me? You're kinding right, Austin." I roll my eyes and press my hands against his chest. I desperately try to break away from him, but he won't let me escape. I turn my head jerkily and tear myself away from an engaging touch.

I hit his damn hard chest again. Son of a bitch!

He doesn't budge an inch and I realize how my nerves are slipping away from me repeatedly that evening. My blows become more uncoordinated, sluggish and weaker until my palms are just resting on his chest.

He lifts my chin again and I reluctantly give in. "Would you rather I kept my mouth shut and let some random guy throw dirty comments at you, grab your ass or pull you out of their laps, huh?"

I shake my head dejectedly and pause for a moment. I take a moment to memorize the sight of him. I have him to thank for the fact that I have mostly been left alone for the last two months, neither adjusted nor pulled onto any laps…after all the silence and my silent, bittersweet pining, he is still looking at me. Why me? I don't understand.

We remain silent. All thoughts are blown away and what remains is darkness and emptiness in my head. I risk a furtive glance up at him and at his lips. When Austin notices, his lips twitch.

He tightens the grip of his arm around my waist a little more and presses my upper body against his. My hands are now trapped between our bodies and suddenly the atmosphere in the room changes. Maybe it's because we're in such close quarters, or maybe it's because the hint of blood mingles with his unmistakable scent and numbs my senses. Tense, heated anticipation is in the air. My breathing and pulse quicken and he lowers his head a little. His eyes shimmer like liquid ice water and I bite my lip.

"Oh, shit!" he curses. "Maybe I'll regret this later, but I want to break you so badly, Elizabeth." He wraps one hand around the back of my neck and before I know it, his hips are pressing against mine. My God! I can't move my hands and desperately stand on my toes as one of his lips touches mine and he kisses me. His lips soften beyond measure and I moan into his mouth as I taste the blood. His tongue explores my mouth and then my own glides over his. I slowly feel my way forward and then our tongues begin an erotic dance. He spins me around and pushes me backwards a few steps until my ass touches the edge of the desk. I can feel his erection against my stomach. Wow… it's explosive.

We are both breathing heavily when the kiss ends. "You're amazing and beautiful," he gasps.

Beautiful. The compliment brings a blush to my cheeks. Austin thinks I'm beautiful. I risk a glance into his glowing eyes.

"Have you ever been kissed by anyone?"

"No," I whisper back. I do my best not to sink into the floor with embarrassment. Well…maybe Bobby tried to kiss me once in high school…never mind. It was childish and not worth mentioning.

"How is it that no guy has knocked you out yet? I don't get it. Men must be crazy about you." Suddenly my mouth is numb. Austin runs his fingers down the back of my neck and twists my braid around his wrist, forcing me to look him in the eye. I suck in the electrifying air around us. He gives me a wolfish grin, and I promptly feel that strange tugging in my abdomen again.

"You really are pure, so perfect." His thumb glides over my lower lip. His words act like an accelerant on me; my blood boils. He leans down to me, kisses me passionately and sucks on my lower lip. I moan and he smiles against my lips. "How old are you, Elizabeth?" he then asks in a low, raspy voice and I frown at his curiosity.

Why does he suddenly want to know? I swallow and open my mouth. "I'm twenty-one, almost twenty-two."

Something dark flashes in his eyes that I can't place. "How old are you?" I ask before I can stop myself.

A shadow flickers across his eyes and he continues to trace my bottom lip. "Thirty-three."

Oh man! There are several years between us. I slowly pull my hands back and intertwine my fingers.

"I really should leave you alone. You're far too young for me. Far too beautiful and I shouldn't want to break you."

It's that little compliment again. It's the second time he's said that he thinks I'm beautiful. I try to hide my stupid grin. Do you hear me now? He wants to break you?. my inner voice is shouting at me. My subconscious raises its head weakly. At least it's still alive. It's been suspiciously quiet for the last few minutes. Where was it when I needed it?

"What happens if you stay?" I whisper and his breath catches. "What happens then?", I add.

He grins darkly. "I don't know if you're naïve or just inexperienced, but you're remarkably brave," he says, his voice hoarse.

His words encourage me. They set me completely on fire and I press myself closer to his body. My hand trembles as I lift it and slide it along his neck. Austin freezes at the touch and blinks about as fast as my heart beats. My eyes fall on his lips again and I blush. He kissed me with those lips…wow.

I take the next step and run my fingers from his neck to his cheek to his chin. The blond stubble feels surprisingly soft and I look at his slightly swollen lips. The blood has dried and a crust is slowly forming. My fingertips hover in the air and I hold my breath with a pounding heart as I touch his lips. "Does it hurt?"

I don't know who this hurts more. Him or me. Austin stands perfectly still, not making a move. Only his fingers twitch around my waist and send pleasant shivers down my spine. "Not really. I've had far worse injuries after a fight," he explains with a sphinx smile. He opens his mouth slightly and licks my fingertips with his tongue. I gasp and then it takes my breath away. Why is that so sexy?

"Would you feel better if you tended to my wounds?" he whispers, hitting the mark with his words. I would really feel better if I knew that nothing was wrong with him. Not really I mean…my inner goddess sleepily lifts her head as she realizes we're about to touch Austin again. Suddenly she is wide awake and full of energy.

I nod gently and he releases me with a confident grin. My breathing is shallow; I can't take my eyes off him. He grabs a first aid kit from the filing cabinet next to the couch and places it on the desk next to me.

"Ready?", he asks.

"Hmmm," I hum and he puts his hands on my hips. He lifts me up in a flash and sits me on the tabletop. I squeak and open my eyes. Now I'm almost at eye level with him and he smiles in amusement at my reaction.

I turn my gaze away from him and take the first aid kit in my hands. I open the zipper and examine the contents. There are plasters, bandages, cleaning cloths, gloves and… condoms. My cheeks flash deep red. It's not really much, but it will be enough. I press my lips together in concentration and think hard about what to start with. I've never treated anyone after a fight before.

"Clean first, then treat", he helps me out.

Then I expel the unconsciously held air from my lungs and grab a bottle of disinfectant. I pour some of the blue, alcoholic liquid onto a white cloth and hesitate, muttering, "It'll probably sting."

Austin's eyes twinkle in amusement. "Go on, babygirl. I can take it."

I dab gently over his forehead, his cheeks, and when I reach his lips, his hands suddenly settle on my thighs, clasping with gentle pressure. My movements stutter and he grins smugly. What a bastard!

I squint slightly and press the cloth against his lips harder than necessary, wiping away the dried blood. Austin hisses softly and now I'm the one smiling with satisfaction. Ha!

"I didn't know you could be sadistic," he teases, watching me put the cloth away and reach for some ointment. A wave of heat chases through my body again.

"I'm not," I contradict and demand: "Hold still", I command then.

The corners of his mouth twitch, but he holds still. I put a little ointment on my index finger and stroke his eyebrow, his left cheek and his lips. He breathes in loudly through his nose while I concentrate on my work.

"Just keep telling yourself that," Austin murmurs, and a feeling of hot lust flashes through me. He stands in front of me, looks me in the eye. He's so damn sexy.

I ignore his words and ask instead: "Have you been caught anywhere else?"

"I don't know." He shrugs and then whispers playfully, "But you're welcome to look, Elizabeth."

I gasp for air. He's clearly taking the piss.

"I'm serious, Austin."

His fingers twitch around my thighs again and squeeze lightly. His palms are warm and rough. Every slightest movement of his hands makes all the senses in my body sing on high alert.

"Me too, babygirl." His hands wander up my thighs and reach the hem of my dress. My heart stops beating.

"Do you have any idea how seductive you are, Elizabeth?" He lets his hands wander tenderly over my thighs and pushes the red, fluffy fabric up. I automatically spread my legs for him and he steps closer to me. "Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you?", he adds as I whimper softly.

The muscles deep inside me contract deliciously. I would love to close my eyes, but the wild expression in his blue eyes hypnotizes me. Unpredictable waves of lust and darkness break in his eyes and I want to drown in them. He releases one hand from my thigh and I immediately miss the feel of his warm fingers there. But then he curves his hand half around my chin, half down my neck and leans in for a short, sweet kiss.

"Once you say yes, there's no going back," he whispers and as I realize he's not only offering me a warning, but also a way out of this messed up, heated situation, my nerves are completely shot. I breathe in and out frantically. I can almost feel the chaotic feelings - or is it the hormones? -that are coursing through my body. The voice of reason calls out to me and holds out its small hand. Ready to take flight with me, but I stare at Austin unblinking. I want him so much, even though all reason rebels inside me. I wrap my hands around his upper arms and feel his firm biceps.

His blond hair is tousled, his black shirt clings tightly to his chest - his blue eyes flash out at you. "Yes, please," I whisper. Honestly, I'm not sure what exactly I want from him. I'm just sure that I don't want him to let go of me and walk away.

"Please what?", he asks teasingly. His gaze is very intense, half in the shadows and half in the dim light of the office.

"Please kiss me, touch me, Austin." ...fuck me. As soon as the words have left my lips, he kisses me again. So wishes can come true after all.

He breaks away from me, his face only centimetres away from mine. "I'm not exactly known for being gentle, babygirl. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You know that, don't you?" He sounds very serious, almost desperate, and his eyes are glowing. His words surprise me.

Who would have thought that this handsome, tough biker would care about my well-being. "I would never do anything I didn't want to." As soon as I get the words over my lips, I'm not so sure anymore. Right now, I'd probably do anything he asked of me. My answer seems to satisfy him, though.

"Show me!", I demand and the corners of his mouth twitch furiously. His lips meet mine again and the kiss is unlike anything I've ever experienced before. Not that there's much to compare it to.

He strokes the contours of my lips with his tongue and asks for entrance. I open my mouth and our tongues touch. A muffled moan escapes me and he intensifies the kiss. Then his lips leave mine and he breathes feather-light, moist kisses on my jaw and neck. When he starts to suck on a sensitive spot under my ear, I shiver.

"You react very intensely," he whispers huskily. "Your skin is so soft and you smell good," he adds.

Why does he say he can't be affectionate? His words make my arms and legs melt and heat rushes through my veins.

Austin lets go of my chin and grabs my own with his hand, pressing it to his chest. My fingertips twitch and I feel a surge of nervousness race through me. He wants me to touch him, it occurs to me, and I run my palm hesitantly over his bulging pecs. He pulls his head back so far that he can look at me and I breathe heavily. I avoid his gaze and continue to stroke his covered upper body. Despite the fabric, I can feel his warmth and the hardness of his muscles. Both his hands rest on my thighs again and this time he doesn't stop at the hem of my dress. He grips the hem and crumples the fabric in his fists, pulling it up until he catches a glimpse of my white lace panties. Luckily I'm wearing nice underwear!

"Fuck," he growls and licks his lips. "Your skin is flawless. I want to smell and taste you. and get you all dirty, baybgirl."

His uninhibited, rough words totally arouse me. I turn red. His dirty words are in stark contrast to his gentle touch. His fingers glide over the insides of my thighs and he spreads them wider. I'm putty in his hands. He exhales audibly and closes his eyes as he runs the knuckles of his right hand over the soft lace fabric. I gasp for air and my toes curl in my shoes. Oh…how can I feel that touch down there?

"I love delicate lace," he murmurs, pushing the red fabric of my dress further up and stroking the lace pattern of my panties with the fingers of one hand. His next kiss is demanding, his tongue and lips teasing mine. I cling to him and crumple the fabric of his black shirt. He presses his body against mine, pushing my upper body back until I'm lying half on the tabletop. One hand clasps my bare thigh, the other moves down my back to my waist and my bum. As he thrusts his hips forward, I feel his erection.

I let out a muffled moan and swallow his quick breath as he kisses me again. I carefully stroke his neck and hair. It is soft and yet unruly. I tug gently and he moans hoarsely. He runs one hand over my collarbone and pushes me down onto my elbows with the flat of his palm on my chest. The cold wooden board collides with my bare arms and sends shivers down my body.

I expect him to undress me, but he doesn't. He lets go of me, straightens up and sinks to his knees, grips both my thighs and pulls me jerkily towards the edge of the table. He's not going to, or? My inner goddess swings her hips in boundless anticipation, while a little voice in my head whispers doubts. However, I don't have time to get to grips with the chaos in my head. My legs float in the air and then they suddenly rest on his broad shoulders and I close my eyes, fluttering. He kisses the inside of my thighs and gently scratches my hip bone with his teeth. He gently nibbles and kisses his way from my left hip bone to my belly button and sinks his tongue there. I moan again.

Seeing him on his knees in front of me and feeling his mouth on my skin is unexpected and exciting. My whole body is on fire and the excitement comes over me in waves. I try in vain to control my loud breathing. He looks up at me with his blue eyes under his incredibly long eyelashes, kneads my thighs and licks his lips. His nose grazes my skin down there. Before I know it, he leans forward and pushes his nose between my thighs. I can feel him down there. His hot breath collides with my own warmth. Oh God!

"Hmmm…you smell so good," he murmurs, inhaling deeply. I let myself fall back onto the tabletop and chew my lip. Something seems to explode deep inside me.

He blows lightly against my covered centre and I shiver. "Ohh," I whisper and he chuckles. He spreads my legs wider and bends my knees upwards. I'm completely exposed and can't think a sensible thought as Austin drags his knuckles over my centre. Although the touch is light as a feather, I can feel the reverberations all the way to my abdomen. I press a hand to my mouth and gasp for air. Oh boy, that's intense.

When I briefly lift my head, there is a sensual expression in his eyes and he lowers his lips. His lips move over the thin lace of my panties and he growls. The vibration reverberates deep inside me. One of his hands grabs my briefs and pushes them aside, revealing me and then I feel his lips on my bare skin for the first time. I moan, feel the pulsation between my thighs and how wet I am. Please, I beg silently as one of his arms wraps around my stomach and stops me from wriggling around. I clutch his forearm and dig my fingernails into his skin.

"Have you ever touched yourself and brought yourself to orgasm?" he whispers smokily.

I try my best to sound offended. "Yes," I breathe breathlessly - but none of my touching has felt anything like what you do.

"Maybe one day I'll watch you rub that sweet little pearl and moan breathlessly."

In the depths of my foggy mind, the thought arises that I might even like it. To see him in front of me, half naked, and his eyes are only on me. That would be definitly something.

His lips open and with the next breath I feel his tongue. The tip of his tongue slowly and sensually circles my clit. His fingers part my labia and when he briefly lifts his head and blows against my wet centre, my body rears up. But Austin holds my hips in an iron grip and I sigh in sweet agony. He doesn't let up and continues his sensual assault.

"Now let me explore this litte thight hole." He strokes my entrance with one finger and I feel my muscles tense and pulsate down there. He pushes a finger inside me, again and again.

When he stops circling my clitoris and starts sucking lightly instead, my vision blurs and all my muscles tense up. Something knots in my stomach and I chase after a tingling flicker. His finger pumps into me at a steady pace, becoming more urgent as he adds another. A cry of pleasure escapes me as he speeds up.

"Please," I beg and throw my head back. My lips open and my legs tense and tremble.

"Let go, babygirl." His teeth scrape over my clitoris and he slides two fingers inside me. Just before he pulls them out again, he curves his fingertips and grazes a sensitive spot inside me. My eyes go black and I see stars. I cry out and freeze. The madness! I've never experienced anything like it.

My eyelids are heavy as I flutter them open again. He lifts his eyes and looks at me with a satisfied, dark grin. I return his smile shyly and am sure that I have just collided with the sun. I feel like Icarus who flew too close to the sun and got burnt.

I come down from my orgasm with a gasp. His hands glide over my thighs and he slowly rises from his knees. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch as he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the fabric over his head. Oh wow…Adonis and David's michelangelo can pack their bags next to him. Austin is outrageously hot. A light film of sweat glistens on his skin and I wander with his eyes over the peaks and valleys of his pronounced muscles. My mouth is watering and I'm suddenly overcome with the desire to taste him on my lips. I straighten up into a sitting position and reach out for him.

Excitement and triumph dance around in his gaze and he breathes heavily. "How was that?" he asks in a raspy voice.

I blink and think about what would be a suitable answer. Exciting, explosive… definitely world-shattering. "Good," I whisper back. He laughs and grabs my face with both hands. Then he kisses me and I taste my own arousal…it's dirty…and exciting…and feels far too good.

"You're killing me. How can you be so innocent?"" With his fingers he gently grips my wrist and directs my movements up his chest and along his ribcage, then down to his stomach and my fingers graze the path of blond hair disappearing under his waistband. I stare at the spot where our hands rest and widen my eyes as I see the bulge in his jeans.

I swallow hard and there's that promising, dangerous grin on his lips again. He lets go of my wrist and unbuttons his jeans, then pulls down the zip. I hold my breath. His palm is pressed against his erection and he closes his fist around his cock. I slide my fingers over his upper stomach muscles and they tense under my touch. It's a heavenly feeling to be so turned on. He pushes his jeans down and kicks his boots off his feet. Then he's standing in front of me in just black, tight-fitting boxer shorts and when his fingers slip under the fabric, I bite my lip. Tense excitement slowly builds up and watching him touch himself blows my mind… insane!

Austin takes half a step closer to me and wraps his other hand around my chin. I crane my head and sigh as he kisses me again. It's wild and hard on the edge of pain as he presses my head back and stretches my neck muscles. This time I feel braver and search for his with my tongue. He moans in surprise at my initiative into my mouth. I slide my hands further down his stomach and touch his forearm. He's still pumping his hard cock and I wrap my fingers around his forearm and wrist.

"Let me…" I stammer awkwardly. His muscles quiver under my fingers. "Show me how…"

He nods and pulls off his boxer shorts. My eyes widen. His cock is big. The tip is red and wet, and he grabs my hand again. "Keep your fingers loose, babygirl," he instructs me and I obey. When I look into his eyes, there's a lewd grin on his lips. I want to punch him in the face, but I'm too nervous and curious about what's going to happen next. He clearly enjoys my stunned expression and lays a quick kiss on my lips. It's smooth, wide and beautiful. I want to touch him, but I don't know how.

Austin leans down to my ear. His lips brush the sensitive skin there and I lick my lips in anticipation. Hm…all right.

He guides my hand towards his penis and whispers. "Close your fingers." I close my fingers into a fist and gasp. His cock is much harder than I expected in my hand, but also soft and warm. "First slow and firm," he whispers, moving my hand up and down, and his eyes shimmer like boundless oceans as he looks at me. He sets the pace for my movements. My mouth is slightly open, I lower my gaze and watch our hands glide up and down, mesmerised. It's fascinating how the wet tip of his cock keeps disappearing and reappearing between my fingers. I wonder what he tastes like?

"That's it, babygirl." He lets go of my hand and cups my face with both hands, then leans his forehead against mine and closes his eyes in pleasure. Seeing him where…aroused and out of control fires me up and I grow bolder. When he thrusts his hips forward slightly, I involuntarily tighten my grip.

A deep groan echoes from his chest. Ha! He likes it and a new, electrifying warmth spreads through my chest. It's a sound I'd like to hear more often. I remember Callie and the other girls talking about blokes and how they like it. So I speed up my movements a little and at the same time carefully slide my thumb over his glans. I watch his reaction carefully.

"Shit", he growls in a deep voice. Austin opens his eyes, and I repeat the slide of my thumb. I also start to twist my fist a little with the up and down movements and get another deep, hoarse moan from Austin. He's both hard and soft, like steel, covered in velvet, and when I switch hands, bringing my wet thumb to my lips, he tastes amazing, good, a little salty. While I'm not so sure about this flavor, one look at ihim and I don't care. Seeing him so aroused and wild is worth it.

Austin groans and thrusts his hips towards me more and more often. I continue with the twisting pumping movements of my hand. I feel powerful! My tiny little inner goddess is delighted with my skill. I can drive him crazy with my hand. Again I let my thumb glide over his tip and his hips jerk. "Fuck, babygirl and you've never done this before?," he growls and when I make a sign to lean forward, he shakes his head breathlessly.

I bite my lip and shake my head. "Never."

Why not? Before I can sulk, he whispers: "If you curve those pretty pink lips around my cock now, I'll come deep down your throat." I feel the muscles in his legs tighten and he breathes heavily as he closes his hand around my wrist, slowing my movements before pulling my fingers away from his cock.

My pulse quickens as he grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head. Now I'm only wearing my white lace bra. "I'd much rather feel your tight little pussy around my cock when I come."

I shudder at his crude words and he flicks my bra open, slips it over my shoulders and as the cool room air brushes my breasts, my nipples harden. His fingers glide over my one breast as he kisses my neck. He rolls his thumb over my nipple and I feel a longing tug between my thighs. His lips leave wet kisses on my neck, my collarbone and when he cups my one nipple, I threaten to burst.

The next second he kisses me again passionately, completely wildly and wraps his arms around my back. He lifts me off the tabletop and stands me on my own feet. I cling to him with wobbly legs. But before I can wrap my arms around his naked torso, he turns me around so that my bare back touches his chest. He grab a condom package. What is he up to?

"You're really pretty, Elizabeth," he whispers and I shudder. His hands wander over my shoulders and down my arms. Then they rest on my hips, exploring the soft skin of my lower back, and when he slides one palm between my shoulder blades and presses me forward onto the ice-cold tabletop, alarm bells start ringing in my head.

He wants to take me from behind. I press my palms on the tabletop and push against him. His palm presses further into my back and I panic.

No!, my little inner goddess screams indignantly. This is not how she and I had imagined my first time. Part of me resigned myself some time ago to the fact that there would be no roses, candles and sweet words, but being taken from behind… hard, that's absolutely non-negotiable for me.

The echo of Austin's words reverberates through my head. I'm not exactly known for being gentle, babygirl.

I realize that if I don't say anything now, he will take me from behind. He's probably used to getting his way and the women he normally fucks have long since resigned themselves to not experiencing romance or expressing their desires. But I'm certainly no whore…I grit my teeth as he traces the contours of my ass with his fingers.

I feel his warm body firmly behind me and as his fingers slide between my thighs, I press my legs together, even though it feels damn good to be touched by him. I lift my head, "No!"

He pauses in his movements. "No, what?" Austin asks roughly.

I take a deep breath and think about what to say. "No," I repeat stupidly. "I don't want it like this. You're not going to take me from behind like one of your whores."

The pressure of his palm on my back finally disappears and I straighten up. When I turn around, there's an indefinable expression in his eyes and I swallow. He looks so lost; like I've slapped him in the face. Oh, Austin.

For a fraction of a moment, I can see through the walls he's built around himself. He frowns in confusion. Austin almost doesn't understand my objections, but then it hits me like a blow. How could he know otherwise? That's the way he lives, and it makes me a little sad.

It's the first time I've seen something like vulnerability flicker in his eyes. Austin seems speechless and overwhelmed. So if I want this to work, I have to do something.

I don't have any sexual experience, but I know what I don't want. That includes a hard fuck from behind. I sigh softly and wrap my arms around his chest. Then I stand on my tiptoes and lift my chin until my lips hover over his.

He finally wakes up from his stupor and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is different - somehow full of emotion and when he puts one arm around my upper back and the other around my bottom, I press myself against him. We are both breathing heavily when the kiss ends and he suddenly lifts me up. I automatically wrap my legs around his hips and he walks over to the couch. He sits down with me on his lap and his hard cock slides right between my labia. I freeze and shudder at the same time.

"Once you say yes, there's no going back," he mumbles and it feels like deja vu.

"Please take me," I whisper and press myself against his naked body. I don't know where the courage comes from, but I lean my cheek against his, lick the shell of his ear and rock my hips against his lap. "You're not going to break me right now, Austin," I add in a soft, gentle voice. Even though there are some doubts in my mind about that, I continue to encourage him. At least not immediately and completely, my little subconscious grumbles.

I dispel the unpleasant thoughts in my head and blow a kiss on his jaw. His hands glide over my back and within a breath he has spun us round and my back is pressed into the seat of the couch. I blink and shiver like a deer in headlights. So it's really happening. Bloody hell! Now I'm getting a little scared. I think of his big cock. How is that supposed to happen? How?

Austin pushes his knees between my thighs and leans over me. His arms are propped up next to my head and I stare up at him from below. My mouth is dry as dust and I whimper softly.

He slides one of his hands round the back of my neck and holds my head in place. As he lowers himself onto his elbow, our naked bodies touch and his hard pecs rub over my sensitive, hard nipples. I gasp and follow his words as he murmurs, surprisingly calmly, "Pull your knees up a little."

I look between our bodies and chew on my lip as the tip of his cock rubs over my clit and then slides along my labia. A pleasant muffled sound suddenly hums in my ears and I don't know whether it's me moaning or him. "Take a deep breath and relax, babygirl. I'll let it pass quickly."

I lift my head and take a shaky breath. I wrap my arms around his ribcage and press my fingers into his warm, firm skin in joyful yet anxious anticipation.

His glans slides further down and as he pushes his hips forwards a little, he finds my entrance. His blue eyes glow intensely and unyielding desire, lust and the devil of darkness dance a tango in them. I close my eyes and take another breath. Then he lowers his forehead against mine and whispers in a smoky voice, "I'm going to enjoy breaking you, Elizabeth. Quick and dirty until there's nothing left of you, babygirl." I open my eyes and he thrusts his hips forward, penetrating me deep with a single thrust.

The unaccustomed stretch burns and the feeling of being completely full squeezes all the air out of your lungs. I gasp for air and squeeze my eyes shut. A whimper escapes me and when Austin's fingertips twitch on my neck and he kisses my cheeks, I realise I'm crying.

"Ah, you're so fucking tight," he whispers and kisses me. All my muscles are tensed to the breaking point and only when his lips part and his teeth pull lightly on my lower lip does a little tension leave my body.

I'm out of breath and a ball of fire races down my spine and explodes between my thighs as he slowly pulls back and then slides back inside me. More fluid and deeper this time; I run my hands from his ribcage to his cheek to his hair. I bury the fingers of one hand in his unruly hair and tilt my head back as the burning sensation turns into a less urgent pain and subsides.

"That's it!" he praises me and slides out of me, only to penetrate me more firmly the next moment.

I press my lips into the crook of his neck and lick and suck at his skin. "Austin," I moan, overwhelmed.

"You take me so well, babygirl." He gyrates his hips and new sensations race through my body again. My toes curl and I wrap one leg around his hips. He sucks on my neck and scratches my sweaty skin with his mouth and teeth open. "You smell so good."

I melt under him. Why does he say he can't do the romantic thing?

Before I can follow the loose thread of thoughts in my head, he lifts his head and his eyes lock on me. His fingers slide from my neck to my throat and wrap around it. I blink at him under half-lowered lids and then his thumb slides over my parted lips and he grins wolfishly. His eyes darken as my hot breath hits his thumb and then something unexpected happens. The grip of his hand around my neck tightens. He squeezes the air out of me with controlled pressure. It's close to the pain threshold and I panic.

The corners of his mouth twitch devilishly and his eyes darken. He savours the hint of my panic and as I slide my hands out of his hair and around his wrist, he intensifies his gyrating hip movements. I groan again and notice a tingling sensation building in the depths of my muscles…just like before when he knelt between my legs. I swallow restricted by his hand and the grin on his lips darkens into something…more dangerous, more unbreakable.

In something that really scares me. Scraps of memories from the past few hours appear before my eyes. Austin's first grab for my wrist at the bar, then the gruelling back and forth of our gazes across the evening, to the fight with Benny, and his lips between my thighs.

Austin narrows his eyes and licks his pink lips. His thrusts alternate between fast, and slow and hard. Then he changes the angle of his hips, leaning from his elbow back onto his hand. He wraps his fingers around my neck a few shades tighter and I gasp slightly.

Panic flutters over my body and I try to squeeze my legs together. But with him between my legs and over my body, I hardly have a chance to defend myself or move. He enjoys my reluctance and takes pleasure in my burgeoning panic. Sick bastard!

"Yes," he grins devilishly. "Lose yourself in desire, babygirl." His thumbnail traces my lip and then slides into my mouth. My vision blurs and I suck on his thumb. He growls and suddenly there's no holding back. Austin speeds up his movements; sliding in and out of me, again and again with heavy breaths, and I melt beneath him.

The panic and my desire for redemption are close together. I can't keep the two feelings apart as they blur and send hot, cold shivers through me.

"You look so pretty underneath me," he whispers. "So fragile," he pushes hard again. "So wonderfully dishevelled," another hard thrust. "…and so fucking wet around my cock. Do you like that, babygirl?" His thrusts are hard on the edge of pain and as the tingling continues to brew in my stomach, spreading through my arms and legs, my eyes begin to water.

"Austin", I shout. Go easy on me, I beg silently. The grip of my hands around his forearm weakens and as he realises this, he loosens his vice-like grip and oxygen floods my airways.

I gasp and scream with pleasure as my orgasm approaches. "Come for me," Austin whispers, breathing heavily, and I burst into a million pieces. He thrusts hard a few more times until he comes too and pours my name into me, panting.

While I try to calm my racing pulse, my thoughts sink into chaos. Wow… that was amazing. That was… erotic and psychotic.

He lowers himself onto his elbows and presses his entire body weight onto me. He breathes loudly and heavily into the crook of my neck and I pull out my arms, which are now trapped between us, and wrap them around his neck. His muscles twitch under my fingers and he is still inside me. Then he lifts his head slowly and looks at me with a dark gaze. The unstoppable storm in his eyes has receded and for a brief moment I think I recognise something like warmth and tenderness on his face, but then he shuts up again.

Austin kisses me softly and then murmurs as he looks at me, "I've never seen soemthing that was so beautiful while I was breaking it."

It's strange that he says something like that. Basically, I don't feel broken, just cracked open. I swallow, barely comprehending his words. Austin has cracked my hard shell, and sticky, sweet infatuation oozes out of me.

He slowly slides out of me and I close my eyes. "Oh." I wince at the unfamiliar sensation and immediately wrap my arms tighter around his back as he try to stand up. "Please stay. Just a minute."

Confusion flickers in his eyes again, but he nods almost imperceptibly and lowers his face into the crook of my neck. To be honest, I don't know what I'm doing, but asking him to stay feels terribly intimate. Austin isn't the kind of guy you cuddle with, but a tiny spark of hope ignites in my chest as he relaxes over me and stays put.

I run my fingers through his slightly sweaty hair and enjoy the weight of his body on me. "Are you okay?" he asks, still hiding his face in the crook of my neck.

I hesitate and close my eyes. For a moment, I hush inside my body. A bittersweet burning sensation sets in between my legs now that the arousal has subsided and my muscles feel heavy. Tomorrow I will have sore muscles everywhere. A giggle escapes me and he lifts his head. I slap a hand over my mouth and mumble, "Sorry. It's just so ironic that you ask me that after you…well…choked me."

His blue eyes glow. "I'm well aware of that," he says dryly, lowering his gaze to my neck. His fingertips gently stroke the sensitive skin and I sigh silently. "Was I too rough? I know I can be pretty wild", he adds.

Pretty wild and hot. A little scary and controlling, but hot. I give him a gentle smile and kiss his jaw. "I'm okay, but thank you."

Now that he has cracked my hard shell, the feelings just bubble out of me. Butterflies are dancing around in my stomach and I know that things will only get worse from here on out.

I feel strangely cared for as he rubs his knuckles over my neck and whispers: "Your skin is so beautifully red from my hands." He drags his thumbnail across the edge of my chin and my toes tense. My body twitches beneath him and he grins triumphantly.

Then he leans towards me and kisses me tenderly. Just as I'm about to lose myself in his lips, he ends the kiss and makes an effort to get up.

That's it now, isn't it, I think disappointedly. No, that can't be all. My subconscious lazily lifts its little head and blinks at me. Where has it been for the last hour? It eyes me skeptically and shakes my shoulders. Pull yourself together, Elizabeth. Understand that he doesn't stand for romance. He's rough, wild and unrestrained. I grin mischievously at the thought.

I watch Austin stand up and reach for his boxers and jeans. He quickly puts them on and when he reaches for his shirt, I'm on my feet in a flash and pick it up off the floor. He gives me a wolfish, playful look.

"What are you doing, babygirl?" he asks, clicking his tongue.

I realize I'm still completely naked, and in another situation I'd be damn uncomfortable, but I try to stop him. At the ridiculous performance, my sense of honor props his face in his small hands and shakes his head. Fuck that! This can't be the end.

"I don't want you to go." The words pass my lips before I can stop them and his eyes widen.

Then he looks at me very seriously and comes towards me. He reaches out a hand and curls it around the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him. "I'm not staying the night-guy. I'm just not like that, babygirl," he states dryly.

Everything inside me roars. I know, I know. I press his shirt against my bare breasts with both fists. The bitter disappointment that he wants to leave and leave me alone hits me unexpectedly. Even though the sensible part of me had foreseen all of this.

"So you're done with me now after you broke me?" I sound more emotional than I should. I taste the bitter truth of my words on my tongue. Austin blinks at me, startled by my emotional outburst, and rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

"Don't do that. Don't make it so hard on yourself, Elizabeth," he murmurs. "You knew what you were getting yourself into. I'm not your prince in shining armor."

I squint my eyes. "Obviously." I sound hurt and biting. He takes a step closer to rip the shirt from my hands. I shake my head, barely noticing. I dare him to do that!

"So I'm only worth one fuck?" I then ask, suppressing the trembling in my voice with all my might. "Got it. that you won't take me out or love me, but do you have to be such a bastard. You just took my virginity and you're so - ah -," I mumble angrily, my tongue flicking out of my mouth. "…such a fucking bastard! Couldn't you at least have had the decency to cuddle me for a few more minutes?"

Austin grinds his jaw and his blue eyes flash emotionlessly. The hardness in his gaze makes my blood freeze in my veins. "It's better if you're angry with me. Hate me if you have to, but don't fall in love with me. You don't want me in your life," he makes it clear and rips the shirt from my hands.

Too late, I think.

"It scares you," I say, startled. As the words slip past my lips, his eyes widen and he freezes in front of me. Apparently I've hit the bull's eye. "You finally care about something in life besides your MC and now you're trying to push me away by being disgusting to me. Stop it, you son of a bitch!"

Austin growls. "No, you're wrong." He leans his lips so close to my ear that I can feel his warm breath on my skin. "That didn't mean anything to me with you. It was just a fuck."

My pulse quickens and I jut my chin out. Even though his words hit me hard, I blink into his eyes and murmur, "If it didn't mean anything to you, you can spend the night with me. It wouldn't change anything, right?" I raise an eyebrow defiantly, and the moment Austin inhales loudly through his nose and licks his lips, I know I've hit his sense of honor.

Maybe my provocation is pathetic and maybe I'm making a fool of myself because it really meant nothing to him, but in the way his muscles tense and the corners of his mouth twitch, I know I've found a vulnerable spot.

"Fine," he grumbles in a low voice. "As soon as the sun comes up, I'm gone. Come here." I can hardly believe my triumph and I stifle a squeak with all my might. His big hand clasps mine and pulls me towards him. "Lift your arms," he instructs me and pulls his muscle shirt over me. Then he picks up my panties and helps me into them. I watch him without comment and bathe in the tingling waves of my little victory.

He walks with me by the hand to the couch and lies down. His back is half leaning against the backrest and when he spreads his legs and pulls me between them, I almost trip over my feet. Austin wraps his arms around me and looks tense as I rest my cheek on his bare chest. I close my eyes and just before I fall into a dreamless sleep, I feel his fingers stroking my hair and a soft, husky voice. "Maybe you just mean too much to me."

Hey FELLAS ❤️

OMG, I can't even believe I wrote this emotional and steamy adventure! Please commet down below your thoughts and feedback! It would mean the world to me if you reblog the post, show it to your friends and community or like it 🫢

It would make me the happierst author in the world if you (my fave people) commet down belong.

tagging: @bloodynereid @obsessedvibee @avonne-writes @austinbutlermischief @austinbutlerslovers @hogans-heroes @sempervera @sagesolsticewrites

xoxo callumsgirl

[jays-bookmarks]

There was only one bed, but... (Dan Heng x gn!reader)

It's basically this picture. You're both nerds who don't know how to flirt and continually dance around your feelings.

Summary: March tries her best to set you up with the man you've been pining after since you first joined the Express, but her best-laid plans are foiled because both you and Dan Heng are socially incompetent. Words: 2.5k Warnings: secondhand embarrassment, awkward pining, reader is "short" (tiptoes to reach the top shelf lol), reader has some skimpy nightclothes

It had been a long day for you, March, and Dan Heng. After what happened during your mission, all you wanted was to flop down on a bed and sleep. As your group made its way to the inn, a very sheepish receptionist came to greet you. He apologized and explained that there were only two rooms left available.

“Oh, that's okay,” you said, glancing over at your teammates with a shrug. “I can share with March.”

March, however, quickly declined.

“No, uh—you should go with Dan Heng!” she said.

Your eyes widened at her words. “What? Why?”

You couldn’t hide the small blush on your face as you glanced over at Dan Heng. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice your nervousness, having been equally surprised by March’s sudden proposition. He tilted his head, waiting for March to explain.

“Well…” March looked a little nervous under Dan Heng’s scrutiny. She gave you a meaningful look. “Since you’re so new to this, wouldn't it be safest to stay with Dan Heng? Don’t forget he’s the guard of the Astral Express! Besides, I, uh… snore pretty loud!”

She ended her sentence with an awkward giggle. You narrowed your eyes at her. You knew March was only taking this opportunity to set you up with Dan Heng, but you tried to play it cool and let him have the final say. There was no way he'd agree… right?

“...I suppose that makes sense,” Dan Heng said, turning to you. “Are you alright with that?”

“Huh? Uh—yeah!” You froze up under his gaze, then quickly glanced away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your face was so hot that you were sure Dan Heng didn’t miss your blush this time. You weren’t expecting him to agree so easily… but then again, why would he refuse? Despite the shiftiness of her delivery, March did make a sound argument. And Dan Heng clearly didn’t have any feelings he needed to keep hidden…

From the corner of your eye, you saw March pumping her first in victory before quickly hiding her hands behind her back. She bit her lip to suppress a grin. You shot her a glare, but she only giggled in response before ushering you all down the hall.

Once you saw the room you were staying in, your heart dropped. Of course, there was only one bed.

Dan Heng seemed completely unfazed, immediately moving to set his stuff down on the floor.

“You can have the bed,” he said, glancing back to where you stood frozen in the doorway. His gaze lingered on you for a moment. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but then he turned away and began taking off his coat.

You tentatively stepped into the room.

“A-are you sure? I… think there's enough room on the bed for both of us…” you said, but you could already feel yourself combusting at the thought of sharing a bed with Dan Heng. Sure, the bed was technically big enough for two people, but just barely. Trying to share this bed would definitely result in you two being squished uncomfortably close together.

You glanced over at Dan Heng, who shook his head and set his coat on the floor as a makeshift bedroll.

“I’ll be more comfortable on the floor," he said. Then, after a pause, he added in a quieter voice. "It would be best to keep a distance…"

Your face fell at his subtle rejection. Or, maybe you were just reading too much into it. He was probably just used to sleeping on the floor like he did in the archives. Or maybe he saw your awkwardness around him as you being uncomfortable with his presence. Or perhaps he just meant it would be easier for him to jump into action if the two of you weren’t tangled up together in bed. Oh gods, why did you word it like that? You shook the thought from your head and took a deep breath.

“Right, well… do you want an extra pillow or anything? A blanket?” You gestured to the bed.

Dan Heng shook his head again. “Don’t worry about me,” he said.

You sighed and turned to the closet anyway to look for an extra blanket. You had to stand on your toes to take it from the top shelf, but you managed without having to grab a stool. With that small victory spurring you on, you held the blanket out to him. But Dan Heng shook his head once more.

“You should take it,” he said. “It’ll be cold tonight.”

“And what are you gonna do? Just freeze?” you retorted.

He chuckled. “I’m used to sleeping in all sorts of conditions. I’ll be fine.”

He seemed adamant about letting you take the extra blanket. Unfortunately for Dan Heng, you also knew how to be stubborn. You frowned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Come on… Just take it,” you said.

Dan Heng didn’t budge. You huffed, pouting a little.

“Please?”

He simply raised an eyebrow in response. You pursed your lips, trying to find another angle.

“Okay… how about this? If I get too cold tonight I’ll come and steal it from you. Deal?”

After a pause, he sighed and took the blanket. You grinned as you watched him lay the blanket down next to him. Grabbing your bag, you went to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

By the time you returned, Dan Heng was settled on the floor. He had Cloud-Piercer in his lap and was polishing the tip of the spear. You gestured to the bathroom as you passed.

“It’s all yours,” you said.

He looked up and you noticed his gaze briefly flick over your body. You blushed as you realized how little your sleepwear actually covered. Dan Heng quickly looked away, placing Cloud-Piercer against the wall as he stood.

“Thank you,” he said. He paused when you didn’t move from where you stood. “…You don’t have to wait for me. Rest.”

“Right… um, goodnight!”

“Goodnight.”

Despite the way your heart still hammered in your chest, you fell asleep surprisingly quickly. But not long after, you awoke to the sound of movement from the floor beside your bed.

As you blinked the sleep from your eyes, you heard Dan Heng mumbling something in his sleep. Concerned, you leaned over the bed to check on him. His brows were furrowed, and he was covered in a cold sweat while he tossed and turned. Was he having a nightmare? You stared at him for a moment longer, pondering whether you should try to wake him up. He was always such a private person… would he appreciate you butting into his personal life like this?

Still, you thought it would be best not to leave him to suffer. Sliding out from under the covers, you crouched down next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. You called his name, trying to gently wake him up.

“Dan Heng…”

In a flash, you were pinned to the floor, your wrist held at a painful angle behind your back while Dan Heng’s other hand gripped the back of your neck. You sucked in a breath, too shocked to even say anything. A beat passed.

You heard Dan Heng quietly say your name in a surprised voice. He seemed to realize what had happened and quickly released you. His hands hovered uncertainly around you as you pushed yourself back into a sitting position with a groan.

“A-are you alright?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“I know,” you said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I was just—”

You shrugged and rubbed at your wrist to ease the pain. A look of guilt flashed over Dan Heng’s face.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I should be asking you that. Are you okay? Were… you having a nightmare?"

Dan Heng opened his mouth to reply, before closing it again. He seemed hesitant to say anything. You could tell he was still shaken up by his nightmare, whatever it was. Eventually, he let out a sigh.

“...No. It’s fine. Forget it happened,” he said.

You paused for a moment, biting your lip. If he didn’t want to talk, then you couldn’t exactly force him to open up. You nodded.

“As long as you're feeling okay…” You began to stand, but paused halfway to look back at him. “Um, but if you want to stay up and chat about other stuff… just as a distraction… I wouldn't mind.”

Though you were making the offer for him, part of you secretly wanted this late-night conversation. It was a way to get to know him better. As a friend, of course. You looked at Dan Heng, hoping he would accept.

“...I suppose I wouldn't mind a distraction at the moment.”

You let out a small sigh of relief. Flashing a smile, you returned to sit down beside him on the floor. After a brief pause, you realized that Dan Heng had expected you to start the conversation.

"Um. Okay, well…" you floundered for something to say. You were never good at holding a conversation, and the fact that Dan Heng was sitting so close to you wasn’t helping you in the slightest. You tried to tell yourself not to think about it—he had already rejected you, anyway, you could take a hint—but your body was reacting on its own. You hoped that he didn’t notice the flush on your cheeks in the dark room.

Dan Heng remained silent for a while longer, waiting for you to finish your thought, but when it became clear you had nothing to say, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“It seems we’re both quite bad at conversation, aren’t we?” he said.

You laughed as well, feeling a bit of the tension between you dissipating.

"Yeah… I guess I should've thought of that when I offered…"

The two of you fell into silence once more. Since you were so preoccupied with searching for a topic of conversation, you were unaware of how Dan Heng was struggling not to stare at you in your sleepwear. The chill in the room seeped into your exposed skin, and you shivered slightly, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“Here.”

Before you could react, Dan Heng had leaned over you. You froze, your mind going completely blank as you felt his breath fanning over your cheek. His arms trapped you on both sides and you tried not to move lest you accidentally touched him. Your eyes flicked down to his lips…

But then Dan Heng pulled back, and you felt something being draped over your shoulders. He had grabbed the spare blanket from behind you and was now wrapping it around you. His hands, no longer covered by his gloves, grazed your bare skin as he did so, leaving a pleasant tingling in their wake. When you finally managed to snap out of your shock, you reached up to secure the blanket with your own hands, and Dan Heng retreated into his space once again.

You thanked him quietly, hoping your voice didn’t shake too much. He nodded in response before glancing away with a cough. If you weren’t panicking so hard over what had just happened, you would’ve laughed and called him cute.

But you were panicking, and right now teasing him was the last thing on your mind. You tried desperately to think of something, anything, to change the topic and move away from this tension between you two.

You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“Uh... what's your favorite animal?”

You blushed immediately after the words left your mouth.

“Um. Sorry, that was kind of a stupid question…” you said. “I'm... not very good at... talking."

Dan Heng chuckled. You let out a relieved laugh as well, glad that you hadn’t made things more awkward, at least.

“The white tiger,” he said. “They’re quite striking, and very elusive... To the people of the Xianzhou, it is known as the Guardian of the West, representing the season of autumn.”

You nodded as he spoke, trying to indicate that you were paying attention to his words and not the way his lips were currently curled into a smile. He turned his gaze to you and you quickly looked away.

“What about you?” he asked.

You blinked, pleasantly surprised that he was willing to continue the conversation. Glancing up at the ceiling with a hum, you thought about your answer.

"I like dragons,” you said. “Oh, actually—aren’t the Vidyadhara, like, dragon people? Can they turn into dragons?”

“Only some could turn into dragons. The power was a rare inheritance, passed down only to those who could successfully complete numerous rites and challenges.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Dan Heng began to explain. You nodded along, your fatigue beginning to catch up to you as you listened to his soothing voice. After a moment, you yawned and leaned against him with a sigh. Your tired brain had pushed the memory of your awkwardness from just moments ago to the back of your mind. You didn't notice the way Dan Heng stiffened at your touch, nor the way his breath hitched as he stopped mid-sentence.

A moment of silence passed, then your eyes flew open as you realized what you had just done. You quickly withdrew, stammering apologies.

"I'm so sorry! I don’t know what— I'm sorry!" Your face was flushed and you couldn’t meet Dan Heng’s gaze.

"No… it's fine.” Dan Heng’s voice was quiet and seemed to waver slightly. He took a breath before clearing his throat. "Don't worry about it…"

You took a breath as well, willing your heart to calm down. "Right, um..."

You glanced down at the floor as you fidgeted with your hands. That tension was back again. You were acutely aware of how close you came to touching each other every time one of you shifted on the bedroll. The silence stretched on as you once again wracked your brain for something to say.

“It’s getting a bit late…” you finally said. “Should we go to bed?”

You weren’t trying to drop any hints, per se, but you didn’t think your heart could handle any more accidents tonight.

“Yes... let’s try to be well-rested for tomorrow,” Dan Heng said.

He stood and offered you his hand. You paused, a little surprised, before you flashed a nervous smile and took it. You couldn't help but stare at the way his muscles flexed in his arm… You quickly shook the thoughts out of your mind and handed the spare blanket back to Dan Heng. You sat down on the bed, leaving him to settle back on the floor.

“Goodnight, Dan Heng,” you said. “And... thanks for chatting with me.”

“Goodnight. And—” Dan Heng paused for a moment, seemingly debating something in his mind. After a moment, he continued with a faint smile. “It was... nice to talk to you as well.”