#this is the longest work i've written in a long time
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It's finally here, the self-indulgent project I've spent two months working on! It started out as an excuse to write a steamy intimate scene but turned into a character study and an experiment all at once... I really hope you enjoy reading it; it was a blast to write, even with all the challenges.
Posting this link here for the Tumblr crowd xx
#personal#writing things#fic stuff#rhaenyra x alicent#rhaenicent#this is the longest work i've written in a long time#i feel proud of a lot of it and i hope that shines through in my prose#also i'm allowing guests to comment this time around so you all better be nice or this fic is getting locked
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*screeches*
#i finally finished writing the fic i've been working on forever#it's not even that long compared to other people's stuff but i generally don't write long stuff#as of right now it's just over 14000 words#that's the longest i've written#it was also just emotionally draining#now time to go back over it and see if i hate it lol#it'll probably be fine but there were some spots that felt rough when i was writing them that might need to be revised#anyways...#off i go...#don't mind me just screaming into the void#sophia talks too much
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Last Line Tag Game
Alrighty! It's been a hot minute since i did one of these but luckily I've actually got a wip i can use for this! (You'd be surprised at how infrequently that's the case 😅.) Thanks for the tag, @erinsworld ! I hope you're, uh... Ready for a rarepair fic for a completely different fandom 😂
The last* Line--written for chapter 2 of "these hands had to let it go free and--(This Love came back to me)":
'This man is still all of those past versions of himself that you knew so well; but now, he's also all the past versions of himself that you never got to know. (And when he breathes your name, it sounds the same way it always did.) "Beca." "...Jesse."'
*-yeah so this is actually the last several lines cause. Well. You can see why a single word/pair of names doesn't exactly make for a compelling final line without, ya know, context. So. Context.
For a more in-depth discussion of what this fic is (vaguely) about, + some relevant art, check out this post i made announcing chapter 1! But the tl;Dr is that this is a Pitch Perfect fanfic exploring the nature of love, relationships, and what "inevitable" really means... Through the lense of a rarepair 😅. And not only that, it is to date the longest (single story) fic I've ever written (currently clocking in at 20,200 words total between both chapters--and im nowhere close to finishing chapter 2) as well as, quite possibly, the queerest fic I've written in terms of themes (the Brady verse was queer by the nature of it centering around a gay couple and their children, plus the handful of other queer relationships around them, but it's more of a family narrative than it is a truly queer one; in contrast the ideas on love explored in this fic are very queer, as are... Just about every character i mention, no matter what canon says about them). It's a doozy! I'm quite proud of it so far tho 😁.
Now, to tag... Alright, how about @impossiblepluto @zeldaelmo @demonicsoulmates @readingwriter92 @wanderingnightingale and @lizartgurl ! No pressure ofc, but I'd love to see what y'all are working on!
#tag games#last line tag#jeca#jesse/beca#pitch perfect#myposts#asks#look upon my blorbos ye mighty and despair#seriously tho when this story and its side stories mainlining other characters/pairs are finished#it will fully be the longest story I've ever written as well as the queerest#this verse has EVERYTHING: bi4pan rights; queerplatonic relationships; trans and nonbinary characters; LESBIANS!#+ a narrative on relationships and how they are never inevitable happily ever afters (but also they always were so long as you choose them)#and how a breakup doesnt have to be the end of a friendship and how love can be found multiple times in life#each time different than the last#AND ALSO THE FACT THAT BREAKUPS DONT HAVE TO BE FOR DRAMATIC REASONS SOMETIMES IT JUST DOESNT WORK OUT#and also. just a little bit. of hyping up my mans Jesse. because he doesnt get that NEARLY enough tbh#actually the fic is just me doing the will smith 'behold!' pose from behind the screen at jesse and beca in turn
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Voy a sufrir tanto traduciendo. Estúpido Inglés, si me vieran... les juro que escribo re-bonito en Esp, y no es arrogancia. ¡¡¡JODER QUE HE LEÍDO TANTO Y SE NOTA!!!
Voy a llorar.
Sólo espero que algún día mi estilo en Ing sea aceptable; no leíble, no historia barata de Wxxxxx no la historia pendeja que recomiendan celebridades que "leen," QUIERO QUE SE NOTE QUE HAY QUIENES PODEMOS ESCRIBIR BIEN PARA FANDOMS.
#I was wondering why the fic I'm working with is the longest I've written so far#when I DO NOT RELATE AT ALL PERSONALITY WISE with the protagonist.#The answer#we:#The popular high school girl#had a controlling abusive mother#religious trauma#longed to belong with the nerds#(even lowered my notes on purpose to don't be considered *smart* which was seen as something bad back in the 00)#Secretly lover of media considered cringe#loves 80's metal#eating disorder#dated arrogant assholes for 'duty'#- always secretly in love with long haired dark clothed sweet men#so... yeah#🤡#“it will be a cute one shot of 3k so I can translate in a week... post it at the end of October”#it's not 3k it's over 60 word pages Times 11 and I'd be lucky if I post it at the end of the year#personal ramblings#THE PAIN
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clueless, kuroo tetsuro
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!
➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader
➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers
➼ word count! about 1.4k
➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡
"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.
Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!
"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.
"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.
Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."
"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"
"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"
"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."
"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."
"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."
Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.
"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."
There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?
"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."
All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.
Right?
A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.
"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"
Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"
"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"
Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."
"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.
"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.
"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"
"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"
"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"
"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.
"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.
Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."
#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#kuroo fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu imagines#hq x reader
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just a fight (b.c)
hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰
feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰
It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.
The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.
“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”
Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.
“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.
“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.
Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.
“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.
Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.
“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.
Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.
“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”
Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.
“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”
His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”
“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”
“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.
A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.
“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.
“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.
~
You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.
Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.
When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.
“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.
“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”
Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.
“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.
Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.
You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.
He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.
“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.
His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.
Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”
You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.
“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.
“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”
He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.
“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.
“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8
#bang chan#bang chan imagine#bang chan imagines#bang chan fanfiction#bang chan fanfic#bang chan fic#bang chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x you#bang chan fluff#bang chan drabbles#stray kids#stray kids imagine#stray kids imagines#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fic#stray kids fluff#stray kids drabbles
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Two professors and a student (part 6)
This is the longest thing I've ever written so please enjoy
Word count: 4300
Warnings: fingering, oral, semi-public, orgasm denial, implied overstimulation, strap-on, edging maybe?, bondage, sex toys, reader is a brat, voyeurism
It’s been a week since the spring semester started, and you’ve barely seen Rio and Agatha at all.
You had spent practically the entire holiday break entangled between the two of them in their bed.
Or on their couch. On their table. Even in the shower.
The memory makes you blush and you can feel your clit start to pulse because you haven’t been touched in days.
The beginning of the semester was always a frantic time for professors, which you soon found out. While you were chilling with your syllabus quizzes in most of your classes, Agatha and Rio were already emailing back and forth with students and dealing with those who were adding or dropping and working on their lectures.
You hadn’t even tried to set up a time to get dinner or hang out because you didn’t want to add more to their plates. You figured when they had some free time, they would reach out.
But today, you’re tired of the waiting. You are needy and desperate, and feeling like a little bit of a brat.
So after your one class for the day, you stroll to Rio’s office. You try the younger woman first, thinking you might have better luck. Rio seems to at least appreciate taking a break from her work every now and then and she might be in a generous mood.
You knock on the door and wait for her to tell you to come in. Pushing it open, you find Rio at the window, pouring a cup of water into a vase with beautiful flowers.
“Forget me not,” she says, glancing at you and then back to the plant. Is she telling you to not forget her?
You don’t think you could.
“What?” You ask, stepping inside and letting the door close.
She walks back to her chair and sits, lounging back to assess you. “The flowers. They’re called Forget-me-nots.”
You nod. “Ah.” Sometimes it feels like Rio is having a completely different conversation with you than the one you think you’re having.
She smirks. “What’s up, doll? Having a good start to the semester?” You pout dramatically and slowly saunter over to her side of the desk and lean against it.
“Yeah, it’s been alright, I’m just a little stressed already and I haven’t seen you or Agatha in awhile, so I thought I’d come pop by,” you say, your voice dripping with suggestion.
Rio’s tongue presses against the inside of your cheek, a quirk you find yourself always entranced by, and she chuckles in amusement. She pushes her chair back and turns it so she’s facing you directly.
“Thought you’d come pop by to…just say hi?” She says, eyebrows raising like she knows what you want but she’s going to make you work for it.
Luckily, you’re prepared for this. Getting what you want with these women is never easy, but you’ve learned.
“Well,” you start coyly, head tilting to the side and giving her your best sad doe eyes. “I was hoping I could do a little more than ‘say hi.’ I’ve missed you. It’s been so long since we’ve spent some quality time together.”
“Doll, these are my office hours. Anyone could walk in right now,” Rio warns, but the look on her face tells you that she doesn’t really care.
“I can lock the door,” you say, sounding a little too eager.
She studies you with her intense gaze, eyes raking up and down over your body, and you fight the urge to squirm. “You’re such a desperate slut, aren’t you? Coming in here when anyone could walk in, begging to be fucked. You’d probably like it if someone saw, wouldn’t you?”
Your lips part, a forced exhale coming out of them, and your eyes glaze over at the thought. You’re not sure if Rio’s going to give in though, so you play your one last card.
Shrugging dismissively, you wait until she leans forward a bit, encouraging you on. “If you’re too busy, I’m sure I could go find someone else to spend quality time with,” you say, and her eyes flash just like you’d hoped.
Whether you’re talking about Agatha or a random stranger, Rio doesn’t care to find out.
She reaches out, grabs the belt loops on your jeans, and pulls you forward so you crash onto her lap. She makes quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts and she slides her hand inside.
“Wow, doll, you’re soaked,” she says and your sensitive clit pulses when she presses against it. You whimper, the urgency of the situation also affecting you, and she shoves two fingers inside you.
Your head drops back at the stretch and your heartbeat quickens while you wait for her to fuck you so well, like she always does, but she doesn’t move.
“Rio,” you whine, pleading for her to do something.
An evil smirk spreads across her face. “Oh, no, doll. You’re the one who wanted this so badly, so you’re the one who’s going to do something about it.”
You grunt in frustration but begin to ride her fingers, bouncing up and down faster. Your arms wrap around her neck for leverage as she holds her hand still and leans back to watch you appreciatively.
“Rio, please,” you beg. While it feels good, it’s really hard for you to get her fingers deep enough to the right spot like this, and she’s not even touching your clit. “I need more, I can’t.” You roll your hips to no avail, the pleasure staying the same.
She huffs, mouth twisting into a cruel smile. “Too bad, slut. This is all you get.”
You grumble in frustration, forcing your hips down as far as they’ll go to take her fingers as deep as you can get, and rut back and forth. This position works a little better and you can at least feel the sensation in your body heightening.
You also find that grinding against her hand like that also means her palm is right against your clit and you’re finally able to get somewhere.
“There we go, doll. You’re so smart, I knew you’d figure it out eventually,” she drawls but you’re exerting yourself so much chasing your high that you can’t respond. You can feel yourself getting closer and your walls begin to flutter more around her fingers, and from her tell-tale smirk, she knows it too.
You’re just about to crash over the wall of pleasure and cum when she finally moves.
But not in the way you’ve been wanting.
Her fingers pull out of you faster than you can blink and her hand swipes across your face, smearing your wetness over your lips.
“What?” You cry, completely dumbfounded, tongue instinctively darting out to lick, and she laughs.
“Do you think a brat like you deserves to cum?” She asks and you nod furiously, willing to do anything it takes to get her to put her hand back between your legs. But she grabs your waist and gently shoves you off until you’re standing again. “Well I don’t. Now get out of my office, I have work to do.”
Disappointed, and still massively turned on, you decide to see Agatha in her office. It might take a little more coaxing with her, but you bet that if you work hard enough, you could wind up with her fingers in you as well.
And Agatha never leaves a job unfinished.
When you push open the door to her office, she’s in the middle of reading something, chewing on her pen in her left hand.
You’re not sure why, but the fact that the older woman is left handed does something to you that you can’t quite explain.
She looks up, and her face brightens. “Hey, sweetheart, what brings you over here?”
“Nothing much, just wanted to say hi. It’s been a bit,” you say sweetly, walking over to her desk to lean against it, just like you did with Rio. Agatha instantly pushes back to give you more space. She gives you a soft smile.
“I know, baby. Rio and I were thinking maybe we could all do something this weekend? If you’re free of course. We just know how busy we’ve been and we feel bad that we’ve been neglecting you.”
Her words are coated in sugar and they make you feel so much better, and normally, those would be enough to satiate you for now, but your brain is completely fogged with desire.
You frown. “This weekend? But that’s so far away.” You drag the word out petulantly, making her laugh.
“Aw, poor baby,” she mocks. “Is someone not getting enough attention while Rio and I are working?”
You stick out your bottom lip and shake your head, trying to look as pathetic as possible, hoping she takes pity. “You could make it up to me right now?” You offer.
“What would Rio think?” Agatha whispers conspiratorially and you debate whether or not to tell her that you don’t think she’d mind as her girlfriend’s fingers were just buried inside you.
But you don’t want to risk Agatha getting upset.
“I won’t say anything,” you say instead. Agatha thinks for a second and looks back at the pile of papers on her desk, worrying on her bottom lip. You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach.
“Why don’t we make a deal?” She says, turning back to you, and your spirits jump. “Get on your knees under this desk and if you can make me cum before I’m done grading these papers, I’ll reward you.”
You fall down to the floor so hard that you can feel the impact in your teeth but you don’t even wince and crawl so you’re where she wants you. You know why she did that; the desk completely covers any sign of you, so if someone were to walk in, you would be totally out of sight.
A little different than Rio, who let you ride her fingers in plain view, door unlocked. You both could’ve been in serious trouble had someone interrupted.
Agatha’s wearing a dress so it’s easy to hike up the hem to her hips. You gently blow over her underwear, smile as you watch her shiver, and turn your head to leave a trail of kisses over her inner thigh. Her hand comes down to tangle into your hair and she yanks it roughly.
“I would hurry up if I were you,” she hisses. “I only have about ten more of these to grade.”
Sufficiently spurred on by her warning, you pull her underwear to the slide and drag your tongue forcefully up her slit, making her hips jump. You moan at her salty taste and her musky smell that fills your nostrils.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” she chuckles and you lay off on the pressure a little while you lap at her clit. You can hear her make little gasps, but you can still hear her pen scribbling, so you lick even harder.
There’s the crinkling of paper and a louder moan, and you smirk into her pussy. Her hand tightens in your hair, a silent message, and you move down to dip your tongue into her opening and stroke against her walls. You’ve realized that you’re also making noises, but they’re muffled by her body.
And then there’s a knock on the door and you jerk so much that your head hits the desk above you. You bite back a strangled groan as her hand swats your cheek and then it retreats back up on top of the desk.
“Come in!” Agatha says, voice shaky and she clears her throat. You grin to yourself.
“Hi, uh, Professor Harkness?” It’s a man, a student of hers, if the nervous twinge in his tone is any indication.
“Yes, that’s me,” she snaps out, maybe harsher than she intended it to.
She shifts in her chair and you realize that her legs are still partly open. A wicked idea runs through you and you gently pry her thighs apart even more. She tenses under you, and you freeze, just to make sure she doesn’t want you to stop.
And then she opens them wider and your heart almost stops.
“I had a question about the syllabus,” the kid says and you roll your eyes. Poor Agatha and Rio for having to deal with incompetent students. At least you might be able to help her here.
You suck her clit between your lips and take a great deal of pleasure in how her voice breaks in the middle of her sentence. You can only hear tidbits of their conversation with Agatha’s thighs crushing your head (what a way to go, though) but you think you can hear her words getting higher and higher as you continue your administrations on her pussy.
You thrust your tongue inside her hole as far as it goes and curve it, and you hear her break into a loud fit of coughing, presumably to hide a moan. You speed up and suck harder on her clit, scraping your teeth against it just to see if it does the same for her as it does for her girlfriend, and you’re delighted when it does.
Agatha’s legs tremble and her walls clench around your tongue the next time you lick inside. Your jaw starts to hurt but your face is drenched with her wetness and you don’t dream of stopping.
And you can tell she’s getting close.
“Thank you very much, Professor,” you hear the kid say, sounding far away. “I hope you feel better.” Then there’s the sound of the door closing.
You laugh into her pussy with your tongue inside her and the vibrations send her over the edge. She cums all over your face, free now to make noise and grind her cunt on your mouth.
You continue softly licking, even slurping once or twice, just so she’s completely cleaned up while she slumps against her chair. When you finally look up at her, she’s already staring at you, eyebrow raised.
“I made you cum before you finished grading the papers,” you say proudly and she snorts.
“That was a dangerous game you played,” she says lowly, fingers wiping her wetness off your cheeks and sticking them into your mouth. You suck, flicking your tongue around them, never breaking eye contact until you finally see a hint of a smile from her.
You sit back on your heels. “A deal is a deal.”
She chuckles darkly. “It sure is. Why don’t you come sit on the desk?”
You’ve never moved so fast in your life, scrambling to your feet and then plopping down, legs already spreading. She stands up so you have to look up at her and then her fingers are opening your jeans.
There’s a mutual gasp when she first slides her hands into your underwear, her from how absolutely soaked you are, and you from how close you already are. Being denied by Rio and then making Agatha cum has you positively dripping.
“Someone liked that,” she muses, sliding a finger into you. Your back arches and you let out a throaty groan. You know it won’t take very long for you to cum at all and it’s the only thing you need right now.
She pushes a second finger in you, and then a third, and she stretches you out so nicely and curls her fingers and rubs your clit with your thumb and you’re so close, so close, reaching the edge –
– and she stops.
Your eyes fly open to find her smirking at you. Before you can say a word, and in remarkably close fashion to her girlfriend, she pulls her fingers out of you and you clench around nothing.
“Why?” You wail. How is this the second time this has happened in less than an hour?
Agatha grabs your jaw and forces you to look straight at her. “That’s for your little stunt under the desk.”
You gape at her. “I gave you a chance to stop me, I paused and you opened your legs!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says innocently and you whine, hands scrambling for purchase on the front of her dress, trying to pull her back into you. “Now you better get going, I have a meeting in ten minutes. And stop pouting, fix your face before I do it for you.”
You roll your eyes, dropping the pitiful act, button up your pants, and storm out of the classroom.
It’s two hours later and you’re still stewing over being refused an orgasm twice when you get a text from Rio: We’re outside your dorm. Come down.
You debate pretending to not be home, but ultimately respond that you’ll be down in a minute.
They better be fully prepared to make it up to you.
“Hey, baby girl,” Agatha says when you slam the door to the backseat shut and you know immediately that something is wrong.
“Hey,” you answer tentatively.
“How was your day?” Rio asks.
Hang on.
Are they acting weird because they both don’t know that you had sex with each of them? And they’re trying to keep it a secret from each other?
You feel like you can breathe a little easier now. “Pretty good. How about you guys? Finish all your work?”
You can play this game too.
They both hum in response and nothing else is said on the way to their house. It’s strange and you begin to get the prickly feeling on the back of your neck, like you’ve just wandered into their trap.
When Agatha parks, you wait for them to get out of the car before you do and you follow them inside and up to their bedroom.
“What’s going on?” You dare to ask.
They share a look and then glance back at you. “Isn’t this what you wanted, doll?” Rio asks. “The both of us?”
Your mouth goes dry and you eagerly nod. They both chuckle and Rio walks over to grab something from the nightstand where they keep their toys. Your breathing quickens, immediately back in the same lustful state you were earlier.
And then Agatha flips you around by the shoulders and Rio ties silk around your wrists to bind them. You struggle and look at them, shock written all over your face.
“You think you can mess with both of us?” Rio says into your ear, shoving you onto the bed by the arm. You almost fall back without the use of your hands but you manage to keep your balance. “You think acting like a brat will give you what you want?”
Agatha trails a finger lightly down your cheek and you try to open your mouth to catch it but she pulls away too fast. “Imagine my surprise,” she says and you know that this won’t be good. “When Rio told me that you stopped by her office earlier begging for her fingers. And after she didn’t let you cum, you came to me, hoping I would give you the relief you so desperately needed.”
Rio comes back into view with a strap and a harness and you gasp sharply. She hands it to Agatha, who pulls up her dress and steps into it.
“And when I heard what you had done to Agatha,” Rio starts, breaking off to giggle darkly. “I knew what we needed to do.”
“See, a brat like you needs to be put in her place. Shown what happens when you misbehave,” Agatha taunts, fastening the harness so the purple cock juts out from her hips.
“You know what happens when you misbehave, doll?” Rio asks, dropping her pants to the ground and revealing her pale white legs.
You squirm against the bed and your restraints, needing to touch or to be touched. “What?” You whisper.
Agatha leads Rio over to the vanity in the bedroom and bends her over on the counter so that their backs are to you.
But they’re looking into a mirror. Your breath catches in your throat when they both lock eye contact with you through their reflections.
“You don’t get fucked,” Agatha says, rubbing the toy up and down Rio’s folds. “You just have to watch. And just in case you get out of those restraints and try to touch yourself, we’re watching you the whole time.”
You moan involuntarily at the memory of you disobeying their orders the first night you slept with them.
How it had led to four orgasms.
But you’re quickly pulled from the memory of that when Agatha begins to slowly push into Rio, the younger woman’s head falling forward onto her elbows.
“Uh uh,” Agatha tuts and pulls her hair so that her face is looking in the mirror again. You feel a thrill run through you when you meet Rio’s eyes that are glazed over with pleasure. “Keep your eyes on her and why don’t you tell her how good I’m making you feel? Just so our little brat knows exactly what she’s missing out on.”
You whimper but you can’t move because you’re so enthralled by the sight when Agatha starts to pick up her face.
“Oh god, you feel so good inside me,” Rio moans and you want to cry. Heat has settled into every crack and crevice in your body and your head feels dizzy. “Aggie, your cock, oh god, fucking me so good, please don’t stop, right there.”
It’s like you can feel it too, the overbearing pleasure you are sure is washing over her.
“Taking my cock so well,” Agatha grunts, slapping Rio’s ass and Rio groans. “This is what happens when you’re a good girl.” Your eyes dart up to meet Agatha’s in the mirror and you can see her smirk. “When you behave, you get rewards. When you’re a brat, you get punished.”
You exhale in time with Agatha’s thrusts into her girlfriend and you ever so slightly dare to grind your hips on the bed. The seam in your shorts lines up directly with your clit so you’re able to get the slightest bit of relief.
“So good, Aggie, gonna cum all over your cock, you’re fucking me so good,” Rio keens and you’ve never heard her be this vocal before. You know it’s just because Agatha told her to rub it in, but it’s turning you on so fucking much you wouldn’t be surprised if there was a puddle on the bed through your jeans.
You switch between looking at both their faces in the mirror and the toy sliding in and out of Rio’s pussy with ease. It is such a delicious sight that you want to drop to your knees, crawl over, and hold your tongue there just to feel it.
“Please, Aggie, please, right there, gonna cum, fuck baby, so good,” Rio chants and your face burns. You’ll never get tired of watching one of them cum, it’s the hottest thing ever. But you’ve also never felt an ache so deep in your bones like this one.
You think if one of them touched your clit, you might spontaneously combust.
“Come on my cock,” Agatha growls, somehow thrusting even faster into her. The sound it makes when Agatha slams all the way in and claps against Rio’s ass echoes in your head, along with Rio’s tiny gasps and Agatha’s pants of exertion. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”
How are you overstimulated when there’s nothing even happening to you? Can you cum without being touched? You wonder if you’re about to find out.
Rio’s entire body convulses and this time, Agatha allows her to drop her head down while the older woman continues to move in and out of her. You’re practically shuddering on the bed from need.
“Poor slut,” Rio chuckles weakly, observing you in the reflection. “Who knew watching would get you so desperate.Think we have a little voyeur on our hands.”
Agatha pulls out and you feel yourself clench as you see Rio’s swollen and red pussy looking thoroughly ruined. Agatha turns to you and your mouth falls open, a stream of begs and pleas for them to touch you.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she says, walking to the nightstand again and pulling out another silk ribbon and a vibrator. You gulp as she comes back near you and you move further onto the bed. “Did you finally learn your lesson about misbehaving?”
You nod. “Yes, Agatha, I’ll be good, I promise, just please let me cum.”
“Oh, we’re going to let you cum alright,” Rio says with a smirk, coming over to hold your legs open. Before you can ask what they’re doing, Agatha turns the vibrator on and presses it against your clit.
Something akin to the noise a dying animal makes escapes your mouth and pleasure washes over you as you cum immediately.
But she doesn’t take it off.
Instead, she positions it so it rests against your pussy by itself and then Rio ties your legs together with the silk so tightly that your clit has direct stimulation.
You try to force words out but you’re already close to cumming again. You try to move so that you can get the vibrations to ease up, but there’s no moving with the restraints on your wrists and ankles.
You are truly bound.
“You wanted to cum so badly, angel,” Agatha says, walking to the door with Rio in tow. “You’re going to get as many orgasms as you could possibly want.”
You gasp, tears already pricking in your eyes, as you cum again.
Rio smirks and gives you a wave. “See you in a bit.”
And then they’re gone.
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness x you#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut#agatha all along#agatha x rio#rio vidal x agatha harkness#rio vidal x reader#agathario#agathario x reader#rio x reader
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top dean/bottom sam fics that perfectly exemplify why bottom sam is the best (the list got kind of super long because i'm just too passionate about this topic):
take the things you love by hathfrozen: i think everybody and their grandma knows this one but i had to include it, this is our gospel. literally changed my life.
mommy dearest by tradwifesam: if you don't like feminization, read this and see the vision.
Softly, as a morning sunrise by LaughableLament: one of my go-to authors for fun and short PWPs.
Noise Complaint by formalizing: a lesson on how to make a thousand words count!
Coast On Through by philalethia: this actually contains switching, but when i tell you it has some of the best samdean scenes ever...
Feel About the Same Most Every Day: pining that you can feel in your bones.
Like a Machine by ani_coolgirl: camboy!sam perfection.
Untouchable for Life by Sintari: another one for my camboy!sam enthusiasts.
Undertow by Molly: starts out angsty and ends with psychic sex vibes, what's not to love?
Birthday Boy by DickBaggins: sam's ass is dean's birthday present, need i say more?
Keeping it Clean by themegalosaurus: swesson filth <3
this thing, for which we break by orbiting_saturn: intense and intimate, as PWP as it comes.
Sweltering by WhoopsOK: brothers with benefits done right. slutty sam as a treat!
weecest:
With A Bit Of Spit And Luck by elsi: in my top 5 weecest of all time, which is saying something because the competition is crazy.
Bulletproof by road_rhythm: gunplay! incredible characterization, if you have a kink for guilty dean who's unable to stop himself, and pushy sammy, this is the one.
Heart of Worms by Ninni: very moody, and beautifully written.
Petulant by formalizing: another short read that hits all the right spots and leaves you wanting more.
and all is right in Dean's world by ladygizarme: loved dean's characterization here, he left me feeling unsettled.
for those like me who need some jokes with your p*rn:
The Koala Conundrum by De_Nugis: (mentions of switching) to this day, one of the most unique & refreshing stories i've read, an absolute masterpiece.
the one with aphrodisiac: this one managed to be hilarious and hot in equal measure, an amazing feat.
Incidentally, It Was Christmas by ani_coolgirl: one of my favorite fics of the year! ani's humor is impeccable! if you also believe in the sam-sexual dean truth, this is a must read.
Tongue-Tied by ADeedWithoutaName: cursed!dean unable to speak, and sam speaking for both of them, you know where this goes...
Dicks in a Box by fictionallemons: buried alive and how do sam and dean decide to spend their time? it ain't cuddling!
Versatile, Tender and Delicious by themegalosaurus: improper use of a zucchini. read and find out.
for my omega sam lovers:
Five Weeks & its sequel Three Weeks Too Late by rei_c: probably my favorite wincest a/b/o of all time! i could've read 100k of this universe, loved the details put into it.
A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey: this is also a favorite! i remember the tension in this fic had me dizzy. this author has an incredible way with descriptions, vivid and unique writing style.
Phantom Pain by hellhoundsprey: weecest! love their dynamic here so much, great blending of a/b/o traits while keeping them in character.
Clover by hellhoundsprey: perfectly done late seasons getting together! with the right amount of schmoop. clearly this author is very dear to me lol
know the feeling by sammyatstanford: this is the longest work in this list, around 40k words, and so worth it! really enjoyed the worldbuilding.
now to my favorite flavor (bottom sam with a side of delicious angst):
Lesser Evils by Dyed_Red: [non-con] not for everyone, but definitely for me. if you love samdean at odds and suffering, this will push all the right buttons. life-changing fic.
Is It Tomorrow (Or Just the End of Time) by elsi: the angst here is so glorious. from beginning to end it's angst, angst, then more angst. there is no resolution to their issues, and i love that.
Collision Course by lovetincture: one of the most believable first time stories i've read, spot on characterization and raw descriptions. didn't shy away from the ugly side of incest.
You can run away with me any time you want by Trojie: sam leaving for stanford fic! oh this one hurts like a motherfucker. there's a line in here that's so beautiful, it lives in my brain.
his skin barely keeping him inside by hathfrozen: another banger by hathfrozen, i have a weak spot for first time in a long time stories.
No such thing as Forgiveness by hellhoundsprey: lawyer!sam getting his life sent off track when big brother comes back to the picture... the unhealthy dynamic here is to die for.
Blood sacrifice sex magic type of thing by Goshen: sam performing ritual sex to cure his demon brother... as he should.
Worship Not These False Idols by killabeez: ruby fucking sam while pretending to be dean. as amazing as it sounds.
Circles of Light by WhoopsOK: there is a "Magical Healing Ass" tag. enough said
end of list! i tried to only include works with less than 10k hits here, so someone might find something they haven't read before. i didn't include warnings, so definitely check out the tags first. all these fics are seriously amazing, i hope more people will read these gems <3
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look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader
A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?
m!dni | requests open.
summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.
word count: 5.5k
tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires
masterlist
There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.
You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.
You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—
“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.
He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.
So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.
You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”
Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.
But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.
“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”
By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences.
“Lead the way.”
Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.
“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”
As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.
“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”
There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.
He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”
You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.
“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”
“What kinda chore we talkin’?”
“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”
“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.
“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”
“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”
-
Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.
You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.
When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.
“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”
“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”
“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”
Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.
“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”
You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.
“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”
He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”
Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.
“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”
Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—
He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”
You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.
“Um, I think he’s out working.”
“Great.”
Great?
Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”
His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.
Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.
“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”
He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.
“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”
You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”
He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”
“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.
Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”
“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”
Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”
Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”
“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”
Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.
“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”
Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.
“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”
You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.
“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”
You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”
“Joel. Just Joel.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.
“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.
You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.
It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.
He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”
His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”
“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”
With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.
It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.
“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”
You nodded hesitantly.
“You know why it’s there?”
You shrugged.
He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”
Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out
“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”
Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.
Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso.
“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.
But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.
A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.
You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.
Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.
“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”
It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.
“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”
And just like that, he was gone.
-
That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.
You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.
So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.
Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.
No pressure on either of you.
You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.
-
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.
“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”
“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”
“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”
“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”
“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”
Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”
You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks, honey.”
Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.
Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?
When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.
And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.
You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.
Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.
The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.
-
Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.
“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”
And Joel’s voice.
You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.
Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.
“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.
“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”
Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”
“Well, what was the usual li—”
“—Were you asleep?”
“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”
Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”
“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”
“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”
No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”
He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”
“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”
He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”
“What? But why?”
Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.
“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”
“Joel, I—”
“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”
You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.”
“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”
You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.
“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.
“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.
He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.
“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”
Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”
You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.
“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”
“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.
You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”
Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”
You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.
“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”
You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”
Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”
And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.
“Unbuckle my pants.”
With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.
“What…” You began, “What now?”
“Whatever feels comfortable.”
With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.
Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”
“—Yes, God, yes.”
You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.
“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”
You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.
“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.
With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.
You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”
And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.
Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.
You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”
“Licking a man’s cock.”
You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”
“Like what?”
“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”
And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.
Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.
“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”
“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.
“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”
You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.
“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”
He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”
“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”
“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.
With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”
“About what?”
“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”
“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”
When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.
“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.
“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”
But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.
“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers.
“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”
“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”
“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”
“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel.
“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.
“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”
“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”
He sighed at that. “You got me there.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.
When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.
“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.
“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”
“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.
Another sigh. “My cum.”
You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.
“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.
“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”
Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”
Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?”
“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”
“What? No—”
“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”
He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller the last of us#tlou x reader#tlou fanfiction#Joel miller fanfiction#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel x reader#pedro pascal#Pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel miller x reader#dbf!joel miller x you#dbf!joel#the last of us smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#tlou smut#tlou show#dbf!joel smut#dbf!joel x innocent!reader#joel miller x virgin!reader
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the good in the bad - yjw
✿ heroes and villains aren't meant to be together... that's what you and jungwon thought at least. perhaps your views have changed after having to work together with the yang jungwon. who would've thought.
pairing - hero!jungwon x villain!fem!reader (ft. heeseung and nct dream's jeno) genre - enemies to lovers, slow burnish, angst, fluff wc - 7.6k warnings - swearing, blood, violence, weapons, daddy issues, betrayal, jungwon's mean to the reader, kissing requested
tiana's note 🎀 - i'm so sorry this took so long to get out ! there was so many details i wanted to add, i know i could've added more but this was the best i can do. i really really had fun writing this, this is the longest fic i've ever written and it's something very different from something i'd usually write. thank you anon for requesting this !
౨ৎ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3 ✧˖° ... (library)
“this way! come on!” jeno yelled as he darted around the corner. you were right on his tail, making sure you don't stray behind.
the building's alarm blared into the calm, quiet night along with the loud footsteps of your pursuers. let’s just say that some people aren’t necessarily happy with what you have stolen.
you had pulled off countless jobs: successfully breaking into buildings, swiftly looting them, and disappearing into the night. you were pretty much considered a pro at committing crimes. but something about tonight was different. the shadowstone - supposedly a very rare stone, one that can "change lives" once you lay hands on it. selling this would earn you millions. you needed this.jeno as he darted around . were right on his tail, making sure you don't stray behind.the building's alarm blared into the calm, quiet night along with the loud footsteps of your pursuers.
you had pulled off countless jobs: successfully breaking into buildings, swiftly looting them, and disappearing into the night. you were pretty much considered a pro at committing crimes. but something about tonight was different. the shadowstone - supposedly a very rare stone, one that can "change lives" once you lay hands on it.you needed this
what you didn’t expect was the large swarm of people chasing you right after you’d stolen it. normally, the ear piercing alarm would go off, signaling that it was your time to disappear off into the night, but tonight felt oddly controlled, almost as if they were waiting for you to steal the stone. almost like it was all planned out…
but that didn’t concern you. the only thing on your mind right now was to escape with your new shiny prize.
11 hours ago…
“heeseung, what’s the reason for this? what am i looking at?” jungwon asked with a puzzled look on his face. heeseung had called for him to his headquarters - something that wasn’t so common as jungwon usually handles his missions on his own. heeseung only asks for him when it comes to serious matters. this must be one of those cases.
“y/n l/n, she also goes by the name of ‘echo’,” heeseung explained, walking towards jungwon, “she is known to be one of the deadliest - not to mention, skilled villains as of right now. she’s made quite the name for herself.”
jungwon’s brow furrowed, “what does she have anything to do with my mission?”
“i need you to locate and bring her to me immediately. she has something i want,” heeseung commands, his gaze intense.
jungwon pondered for a moment. how is he supposed to find you? you’re in a very large city, you can be anywhere. and more importantly, why, out of all heroes, does he have to find you?
“jungwon,” heeseung said sternly, bringing him back to reality, “don’t let me down.”
“yes, sir.” he replied. with a wave, heeseung dismissed him.
now to hunt you, echo, down.
present…
after what felt like an eternity of running, you and jeno finally reach a quiet, secluded alleyway. you no longer heard the yells and footsteps of your pursuers so you assume you’re finally alone. kneeling over, you try to catch your breath. jeno doing the same. once your eyes met his, the two of you laugh and celebrate another successful run. he made his way over to you with his hand up, waiting for a high five.
“another point for us,” he said excitedly. “i can already smell how rich we’re going to be.”
you laughed, breathless, “right? jeno, this is huge. this is going to change our lives, maybe we can finally settle down after this.”
you noticed how his eyes lit up, “you really think so?”
“i do. the shadowstone is worth millions, i’m sure it’ll get us the money for the house we wanted,” grinning at him, you put your hand on his shoulder, “imagine months from now, we’re living in our dream house, we’ve retired from this job of ours and we’re finally living in peace… we can finally live the life we deserve, jeno.”
he smiles at you, putting his hand on top of yours, “i would do anything to live that life,” he glanced down at the satchel that rested at your hip and nudges his head towards it, “let’s see that stone of ours?”
“let’s do it.”
as you started to reach in your bag to grab the stone, jeno says, “stay here, i’m going to go check if the coast is clear.”
you nodded as you began to rummage through the bag. your hands finally make contact with the stone. you sighed in content, pulling it out. as you observed the sharp, black stone that sat in your hands, your smile began to fade. the stone wasn’t glimmering, translucent gem you were expecting. instead, it was dull, solid - fake. “fake…” you muttered, heart dropping.
just as you were about to warn jeno, you heard him yell, “echo, run!” but before you could even react, a man appears in front of jeno, attacking him. jeno tried to fight back only for his punches to be blocked, resulting in him being stabbed in the stomach, collapsing to the ground.
hearing his cries of pain, you gasp, tears blurring your vision, “jen-“ you try to run to him but you couldn’t. another man appears behind you and grabs you by the arms. no matter how much you try to kick and break free from his grasp, he’s too strong for you.
“no running now, freak,” he whispers into your ear. “we got her, jakah.”
jakah? you’ve heard that name before somewhere but you can’t seem to recall at the moment. your brain was scattered, nothing made sense. you feel yourself being turned around in the man’s grasp and there you were met with a man that had a tall, lean build. dark brown hair covered his eyes but you still were able to feel his piercing gaze. his energy exuding power and confidence. he was not here to mess around.
you were being pushed closer to him. your eyes meet. those eyes. they were captivating. you almost couldn’t look away from him. you didn’t want to. no. you can’t let yourself surrender to him.
jakah observed you for a moment. his eyes trailed all over your figure - you felt like you could shrink just under his gaze. once he turned his attention back to your face, he tilts his head and clicks his tongue, “you’re not as deadly as he said you’d be… what happened?”
hearing this made anger run through your body. without thinking, you stomped on the foot of the man holding you, causing him to loosen his grip. you took this opportunity to swing around and punch him in the face to create some distance between you. as he’s doubled over in pain, you quickly grabbed your dagger that you had hidden in your leg and swung it at jakah, making contact with his cheek.
his quick reflexes allowed him to grab your wrist to prevent further injury. your eyes widen at how strong he is, he brings his free hand to wipe away the droplets of blood coming from his cheek, his expression a mix of irritation and amusement, “don’t even bother fighting back, echo. you’ll waste your energy.” he smirks, pushing you to the ground.
before you could react, jakah pulled out a gun and aims it at you.
this was it. this was the end for you. as you began to accept the fact that this may be the last few moments being alive, a surge of electricity runs through your body and everything went black.
you slowly began to regain consciousness, groaning as you slowly opened your eyes. you found yourself tied to a chair, the ropes dug into your wrists and ankles. you try to free yourself, but the ropes were too tight. “shit.” you muttered, frustrated.
taking in your surroundings, you realized that you’re being held in someone’s headquarters. in front of you was a man that had his back turned to you. in the dim lights you could make out the red tint in his hair.
“she’s awake, sir.” a voice said from behind you, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.
“good,” the man in front of you turned around, revealing his face. “it’s about time.” he smirked.
“what did you do to jeno?” was the first thing you said. you didn’t care about your safety, you just wanted to know if jeno was even alive.
“hello to you too,” the man started walking towards you, “do you know who i am or where you are?”
“why would i?” you spat out, struggling against the rope, “does it look like i care about that?”
“there’s no point in struggling. you’re only making it worse,” jakah said, next to you. “you can’t escape anyway.”
you glare at him only to be met with his cold gaze. you realize there’s no point in talking to him. “why am i here?” you turn your focus back to the red haired man who stared at you intently, “if this is me finally being caught for my crimes… it sure isn’t how i envisioned it would be.”
“and how would that have been?” he asked, feigning amusement.
“oh you know, a handsome, charming man sweeping me off my feet and carrying me to my roomy cell,” you turn to jakah and scanned his face, “could’ve been you, you seem to fit the role perfectly. what a shame.” you sighed.
his glare only deepens, “you think you’re so funny-“
“jungwon.” the man in front of you interrupted sternly, “that’s enough.” the supposed jungwon looks down at his feet.
“why am i here?” you repeated, growing impatient, “you never answered my question.”
“you’re here because you’re the key to something i want.” he said, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “find me that amulet.”
the energy in the room shifts as you processed what the man said. it feels like time slowed down. anyone would be able to feel the coldness radiating off of you. jungwon watched your reaction closely, confused.
“…you’re heeseung.” your eyes darkened, “so it is you.”
“it’s nice to see you again, y/n,” he smiled. but behind that smile had so much meaning. jungwon had a feeling there was something he didn’t know. but for his sake, he chose not to interfere. you had gone silent as painful, buried memories began to resurface. you wanted to make them stop.
heeseung continued, “i need you to find the amulet for me.”
“why should i help you?” you snapped, “how do i know you’re not gonna just send me to my death?”
“you know what would happen if that amulet is in the wrong hands. we can’t afford to let chaos ensue once he finds what he’s looking for,” he pressed, “and you won’t be going alone, jungwon will be coming with you.”
“what?” the both of you said simultaneously causing you to glare at each other. “i don’t need a babysitter. it’d be quicker if i went alone.” you argued.
“and have you run off? no, that’s not happening. jungwon is coming with you to make sure you return with the amulet.”
you scoffed, “of course, you don’t trust me.” you can feel both pairs of eyes on you, waiting for you answer. “what’s in it for me?”
“if you come back with the amulet, i will release you and jeno and you will have the chance to throw away this life and start a new one without anyone coming after you, just like you wished.”
jeno’s still alive. you felt a sense of relief wash over your body after hearing those words leave his mouth. but for some reason, you couldn’t help but be skeptical at his proposal. it felt too easy. it could be a trap.
“how do i know you’ll keep your word? how do i know you won’t just send people after us?” you questioned.
“i have no interest in what you do besides this. i only need you for this matter so you will be free to go if you succeed.”
“and if i don’t succeed?”
“you’ll be joining jeno in the cells. and be handed over to the authorities.”
figures. you contemplated for a moment. from what you were understanding, you and jeno’s future relies solely on you finding this amulet - to which you may or may not know where and how to find it. it doesn’t hurt to try though. you and jeno needed this.
“okay,” you sighed, “i’ll help you find the amulet,” this caused heeseung to nod, but you continued, “but i need to see jeno first. i have to make sure he’s okay.”
“that can be done.” heeseung said, nodding to jungwon so that he can untie you. you rubbed your wrists as soon as you were freed. “make it quick though, the sooner you leave the better. jungwon, show her to jeno’s cell.”
“come on,” he gestured for you to follow. you quickly caught up to him, eager to see jeno.
you followed him down the hall revealing numerous cells, however there was no one in them. just jeno. he was sitting on the ground, head buried in his knees. seeing him in such state made your stomach turn. “jeno,” you called out, immediately running over to him. he looks up at the sound of your voice. his face lights up and he scrambled closer to the bars.
“y/n,” he says, relieved, “you’re okay. i thought you were-“
“i’m okay,” you reassured, grabbing his hand, “i’m going to get you out of here, okay? i just need to find that amulet for them then we’ll be okay.”
jeno’s eyes widen and shakes his head, “the amulet? no, you can’t go y/n. that’s not going to end well.”
“i have to, jeno.” you whisper, “for us. heeseung and i made a deal. we’re free once i find it for him.”
“and you trusted him just like that? it sounds weird…”
“what other choice do i have? it was either freedom or being stuck here. i’m willing to take a risk.”
jungwon stood off to the side, waiting for you to finish your conversation with jeno. there was a lot he didn’t know: you and jeno’s relationship, how you knew heeseung, your connection with the amulet. he was completely in the dark. but he knew it wasn’t his place to pry for answers. if anything, he doesn’t want anything to do with you. why would he want to? you’re from very different worlds, that aren’t meant to be combined. he doesn’t trust you. he’s only doing this to prove to heeseung that he trusted the right person. he doesn’t want to let him down. never.
“just… be safe, okay? you need to come back.” jeno pleaded, “i can’t lose you.”
“i promise i’ll be back. don’t worry about me,” you lean in closer to whisper the last part, “besides, i have myself this fine man coming with me.” you joked, making jeno scoff at you.
“of course in a situation like this, you’d find someone to thirst over.”
you had to admit, jungwon was an attractive man. you couldn’t help but be drawn to his captivating feline-like eyes, button nose, and quiet persona. jungwon had a lot of qualities that make you curious about him. he intrigued you. you knew there’s a lot more than what he shows on the outside. a part of you wanted to dig deeper into who he is - jungwon, not jakah.
“it’s time to go,” jungwon says, “let’s get this done as soon as we can.” and with that, he began to walk away, leaving you no choice but to quickly say your goodbyes to jeno and chasing after him - finally setting off onto your journey.
nothing was more awkward than this very moment. ever since you and jungwon began your journey, not a single word has been exchanged between you. the only thing that could be heard was the crunch of gravel underneath your feet. you didn’t mind it since you barely knew jungwon - plus it didn’t look like he wanted anything to do with you anyways. but you had to admit, it was getting boring having to walk in silence. you decide to take one for the team and open up a conversation.
“so,” you started, “your real name’s jungwon? and your hero name is jakah. how did you come up with it?” you asked, expecting a reply from him. but nope, you were only met with silence. “okay,” you muttered, “i don’t know how i thought of ‘echo’ to be honest, it kind of just-“
“can you not?” he interrupted, voice filled with impatience, “i really don’t care about what you have to say.” his walking pace sped up so now he was walking in front of you.
sucking in a breath, you try to maintain your composure, “look i get it, you hate me for what i am and you were forced into this mission but i’m doing us both a favor to try to make this experience at least somewhat enjoyable.”
“okay, well don’t. you’re not my friend. i don’t trust you and i don’t like you. if it weren’t for the mission, i would’ve handed you and that partner of yours to the authorities myself.“
you weren’t going to lie, that stung a little. “hey, fuck you too. it’s not like i had a choice either. you were the one that kidnapped us so if anything you put yourself into this mess. you could’ve left us as is but no, you had to go and prove that you were good enough to your precious heeseung.” you argued, if he wants to be an asshole, you’ll be one in return.
jungwon’s face flushed with anger. he hated how right you were. he hated how you knew that he accepted this mission to show heeseung how capable he is to have a job as big as this. he hated you. “tell me where the amulet is. i’ll go get it myself.” he demanded.
“no.” you said firmly, “you won’t be able to get it without me. like heeseung said, i’m the ‘key’ to finding it.” you decided to end the conversation right there.
as you were about to continue walking, you feel jungwon pull harshly at your wrist. “bullshit. you’re not the key. i don’t care about how special you think you are to this mission, tell me where the amulet is.”
“or what? you’ll kill me? leave me for dead? you don’t scare me, jungwon. i’ve been through it all.” you yank your wrist from his grasp, glaring at him.
“fuck this.” he mutters, walking away from you.
“where are you going?” you yell.
“i’m finding the amulet myself.” he yells back, his figure shrinking as he walked away.
“asshole.” you muttered under your breath. there was nothing else you could do. it was very evident jungwon hates you and couldn’t even stand being around you.
that’s his problem.
you genuinely had no idea how jungwon would find the amulet on his own. he had no leads. you tried to warn him. for once, you wanted to be a good person and help someone out, but of course it blows up in your face. maybe this was just how things are for you - always trying to do the right thing, only for you to face the consequences. maybe it’s just a fated thing for you to be a villain.
as you walked to your destination, your mind couldn’t help but wander off to jungwon. this was the dangerous part in the city. it’s basically the abandoned part, no one dares to go here. it has everything bad you can imagine - thieves, gangs, all the sketchy things. you knew this place like the back of your hand unlike jungwon. this was your territory and that is why you should’ve stuck with him. he could get himself killed here. but wait, why are you worrying so much about him? why are you wondering where he is or if he’s even okay? it’s not your business. he was the one that wanted to go off on his own. he hates you. you remind yourself.
but he needs me.
as embarrassing as it is to admit, jungwon was completely lost. he had no idea where he was going. and the fact that the night time is slowly approaching does not help with his situation. everything’s starting to look the same to him. he could’ve sworn he saw that tree 3 times already. is he just going in circles at this point?
jungwon mentally cursed at himself for letting his stubbornness take over. maybe it was a good idea for you to lead the way since it did look like you knew what you were doing. but did he want to admit that? no, not at all. you were a villain and to him, all villains are the same - cold and heartless. of course, he would have his guard up.
…but was he too harsh? the more jungwon recalled your conversation, the more he started feeling somewhat guilty? to how he treated you. you never really fought back unless you had to, you were just doing what you had to do.
jungwon was conflicted. he can’t seem to figure you out. you’re not like any of the villains jungwon has come across. you haven’t tried to kill him or cause harm ever since you started the mission. in fact, you were so willing to go and find the amulet for heeseung - and you’re pretty determined to find it. why is that? and why are you being so secretive about the location of the amulet? why were you the “key”? there were too many unanswered questions. he wants to know more, more about you.
wait what?
snapping out of his thoughts, jungwon checks back into reality only to find him falling to the ground with a rope tied around his ankles. he must’ve stepped into a trap while he wasn’t paying attention. panicking, he tries to quickly untie himself but is suddenly pinned down by a masked man holding a knife to his throat.
“well, well, well, what is jakah doing out here all by himself?” the man cackles. jungwon looks around frantically for his gun but finds it a few inches away from him. it was too far for him to reach. “where’s your little girlfriend? did she leave out here to die? classic echo.” the outline of the man’s wide grin can be seen through his mask, “guess you’ll have to die out here alone. well deserved.”
jungwon could feel the blade pushing deeper and deeper into his neck. he winces in pain but suddenly he feels the man’s hand go limp. he opens his eyes to find that a blade has gone through the man’s chest, blood dripping all over him. he falls off to the side.
it was you. you saved him.
breathing heavily, you stare at jungwon. he stares back, expression unreadable. did you run to him? how did you find him? “it’s you.” he let out a small breath of relief.
you haven’t looked away from him. jungwon observed your expression. you looked relieved? hesitantly you asked, “are you hurt?”
he shook his head, “no, i’m okay.” you nodded, bending down to help untie his ankles. you helped him up afterwards. neither of you knew what to say. last time you talked, it ended badly. you didn’t want it to happen again but at the same time, you wanted to stay by his side. you can feel his eyes on you - scared to look at him, you looked somewhere else. “…i think you should lead the way.” you heard him say softly, catching you by surprise. the only thing you could do was nod. for once, you didn’t have anything to say. jungwon wasn’t used to it.
you were getting closer to your destination. the building was in sight. all you had to do was cross a bridge and go through a run-down building then you have made it. the closer you got, the more the nerves started to kick in. this was not how you expected your day to go. you were not expecting to run an errand for good guys. you were not expecting to see that person again. you didn’t want to.
noticing the slight shift in your energy, jungwon looks to you and asks, “is everything okay?”
“hm? oh… yeah i’m fine. just thinking…” you replied, trailing off. jungwon waited for you to continue your sentence but you didn’t. “we’re almost there. we just need to cross this bridge and enter that building, then we can bring the amulet back to your boss,” you paused, “then i’ll be out of your way.” you gave him a small fake smile but he could easily see through it.
you weren’t going to lie, you didn’t want the mission to end. to your surprise, you enjoyed your time with jungwon even if it was rough at first. it was a different experience, but a good one. you liked being on the good side for once. you also couldn’t ignore the fondness you have developed for the boy… you were going to miss this.
jungwon only nodded, feeling a strange pang in his heart. to his surprise, he also felt a bit of disappointment that the mission was coming to an end. he has grown used to your company in a short amount of time. he’s not used to having a partner but honestly, he likes it. it’s going to be hard for him going back to working alone.
the two of you walked in a comfortable silence but that was soon interrupted when you suddenly gasped in disbelief, “no way!”
confused, jungwon watches you run ahead to look at something over the bridge railing, “where are you going?” he asks, catching up.
he looks at you and notices an excited expression on your face. his gaze slightly softens as he observes this rare expression, “it still looks the same…” you whisper. jungwon looks to where you were looking. there was a small pond surrounded by a beautiful field of healthy grass filled with white daisies. a weeping willow stood nearby, adding to the scene. it looked like something straight out of a storybook. it was very much different sight to see compared to what you have seen throughout your journey.
you turned to jungwon with a grin, “i used to go here a lot as a kid. i’d sit by the pond and take in the silence…” you reminisced, tons of memories were coming back to you - the good and bad.
“you’ve been here before?” jungwon asked, seeing a hint of sadness in your eyes.
“i grew up here actually.” you confessed softly, “it didn’t always use to look like this,” you said, gesturing to the area around you. “it was nice actually, quiet.”
“i can see why you liked this place…” he commented, taking in the beautiful sight in front of him. he’s never seen you this calm before.
you thought carefully about what you wanted to say next. for some reason, you felt like you could tell jungwon anything at this moment. you felt safe. “you must be so confused on what exactly it is we’re doing,” you chuckled, grabbing jungwon’s attention, “uhm, you know how heeseung said that i was the key to getting the amulet?” he nodded slowly, “well, that’s because the person who has the amulet is my father.” jungwon’s eyes widened, it’s all starting to make sense now. “i haven’t seen him in years. i’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know that i’m alive.” you let out a bitter laugh.
“what do you mean by that?” jungwon asked cautiously. judging by your tone, this might be something you’d want to talk about. he’s not expecting you to open up to him especially with how he has treated you.
“i hope you realize i’m about to trauma dump you,” you joked, jungwon didn’t laugh. instead, he looked concerned - something that completely caught you off guard. because of this, your expression changed back to a serious one. “i wasn’t always like this,” you gestured to yourself, “bad, i mean. in fact, growing up i wanted to be a superhero. the idea of saving and helping people always spoke out to me as well as having people look up to you. but, not all dreams come true.” you sighed, “my father isn’t exactly the greatest person, in my opinion. i mean, he left me for dead at a very young age just to save that precious amulet of his. it’s funny cause i actually know heeseung,” hearing his name, jungwon perks up, “heeseung’s been looking for that amulet for all these years because of the secrets it holds. like he said, it being in the wrong hands can lead to chaos,” your eyes begin to water as you recall past events, “one day, my father and i were cornered by heeseung and his men. he demanded for the amulet but, my dad refused. a fight broke out, i tried to hide somewhere but my dad threw a bomb as a distraction and ran off, leaving me behind. everyone leaves, it was just me. i thought my dad would come back for me but nope. i was all scared and alone. so i had to do what i could to survive and unfortunately those things weren’t necessarily considered to be good acts…”
“heeseung didn’t save you? and where was your mom?” he asked, puzzled why heeseung would leave you behind.
“heeseung didn’t care about me. all he wanted was the amulet. and my mom died when i was a baby - complications during birth.”
“i’m so sorry…” jungwon placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing soothing circles. you looked down at your hands, surprised by his sudden gesture. your heart fluttered at his actions. “that must’ve been so hard to go through all alone.”
“i wasn’t alone.” you smile fondly, “i had jeno.”
“what is jeno to you exactly?” you raise an eyebrow at him, “if you don’t mind me asking…”
“why? are you jealous?” you tease.
“no.” yes he was. “i’m just trying to get to know you better.” he quickly clarified.
“you definitely weren’t trying to do that before,” you laugh, “but no, jeno’s not my boyfriend. he’s just someone really special to me. he found me when i was all alone and he stuck by my side through it all. he saved me when i needed somebody the most. so i owe him my life really.”
“is that why you accepted the mission so quickly, despite your father?” he asked.
you nodded, “i can’t just leave him there. he needs me. and it could give us the life we’ve always wanted.”
“and what’s that life you’ve always wanted?” jungwon’s not sure what possessed him but he built up the courage to get a little closer to you. his entire body now facing you.
flustered by the close proximity, you stuttered, “uhm not having to commit any more crimes. living in a quiet, peaceful area, nothing coming to bother us. just enjoying each other’s company…” you trailed off, looking into jungwon’s eyes, neither of you wanting to break eye contact. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flickered to your lips.
“and you want to live this life with jeno?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. his hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face.
“yes…” you whisper.
“okay.” was all he said, before turning his attention back to the pond.
you needed a second to calm down your racing heart. “well, i basically just told you my entire life story, what’s yours?” you ask.
he shrugged, “there’s not much to tell. just your average superhero origin story.”
you scoff, “please, i’m sure your story is very entertaining. i wanna learn more about you.”
he breathes out “well, kind of like you, i have always been on my own my whole childhood. but that was my choice. i’ve always wanted to be a superhero so i made that my entire life. i was dead set on becoming one so i ran at every opportunity to help people. eventually, all my acts got heeseung’s attention so he took me under his wing. he trained me and got me to where i am today. i’ve always looked up to him and never wanted to let him down. i guess it’s cause i don’t want him to regret choosing me to become a hero...”
“you’re a good person, jungwon.” you say, “i have a lot of respect for you actually. i think heeseung’s very lucky to have you. he’d be an idiot to not recognize all that you’ve done.” you smile.
“you know, you’re not the scary villain you make yourself to be.”
you laugh, “everyone has some layers to them.”
you and jungwon finally reach your father’s hideout. standing in front of the door, you let out a shaky breath. you feel jungwon’s hand on your shoulder, “hey, i’m right here.” he offers you a reassuring smile.
“here goes nothing.” you mumbled, opening the door.
you slowly walk in, looking for any sign of him. you gesture for jungwon to look around. as you wandered around and took in the details of his hideout, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the past. how could he just leave you like that? you always thought you and your father had a strong relationship but apparently not since he was able to leave you so easily. you wondered if things would’ve been different if he never left you. maybe you could’ve walked down the better path. but that would mean that you’d never have met jeno… and even jungwon. that’s something you can’t even imagine - and you don’t even want to.
“y/n,” you hear jungwon call out anxiously. you quickly turn your head towards the sound of his voice and the scene in front of you causes you to freeze. there stood your father pointing a gun at jungwon, his hands were in the air, silently praying that he wouldn’t get shot.
you let out a shaky breath, “put down the gun. he’s with me.”
to your surprise, he slowly lowered the gun, “you’ve grown so much.” he said, his voice tinged with nostalgia.
“well that’s what growing up does to you. you could’ve seen it if you hadn’t abandoned me.” you said coldly.
“i did what i had to.” he defended, causing you to roll your eyes.
“you did what you had to?” you scoffed, “so leaving me for an amulet was your top priority. wow, you deserve a ‘dad of the year’ award.” you say, sarcastically.
“we’re not doing this right now, what even brings you here? why are you suddenly working with a superhero.” he motions towards jungwon, who’s eyes were only on you.
“that shouldn’t concern you,” you shook your head, “i need the amulet.”
“i’m not giving you the amulet, y/n.” he sighed, “you should know that.”
“i see you’re still the same,” you spit out, “you stole that amulet, dad. what good does that even do for you? it’s been years and you haven’t even done anything with it. why do you want to live the rest of your life in hiding?”
“i need this amulet for answers, y/n. don’t you want to find out more about our family history?”
“there’s a reason why this amulet was locked away. maybe those secrets could do more harm than good,” you look down at the ground, “besides, i have no interest in our family… i had to learn the hard way that i don’t even have one.”
the room goes silent at your words. all jungwon wanted to do was pull you into your arms and tell you that it wasn’t true - that you are loved and you have a family.
“i know you want nothing to do with me. but please, give me the amulet. you’ll never see my face again, i promise. i really really need it,” you beg, you don’t even care how pathetic you look now. all you wanted was to get this stupid amulet and save your best friend. “i have so much on the line.”
you honestly have no idea what you had just said because suddenly you see that the amulet has been tossed at your feet. you quickly bend down to pick it up and examine it. you had to make sure it wasn’t a trap. “i don’t know why you need this so badly or what even happened but… the last thing i want to is my daughter to lost whatever she has left.”
your eyes fill your tears but you quickly blink them away. “thank you.” you whisper.
“now go before i regret it.” he said with an awkward laugh.
you nod and begin to walk out but you were stopped by your father calling out to you, “i know i wasn’t the best dad but… i do love you, y/n. and i wish you the best in everything.”
you didn’t know what to say to that. it definitely wasn’t something you were expecting. but due to your circumstances, you couldn’t really give him a proper answer… so all you did was give him a sad smile before leaving.
once reaching the outside again, you and jungwon immediately make your way back to heeseung. you felt like you can finally breathe again. you stare at the amulet in your hands. this was what ruined what you had left of a family - this chunk of gold. “are you okay?” you hear jungwon say.
you nodded, smiling out of reflex, “yeah, of course. let’s just get back, yeah?”
his gaze lingered on you, a concerned expression on his face“you know, you don’t always have to put on a strong face. it’s okay to let your walls down, y/n.”
his words made you stop. the walls you’ve spent years building suddenly crumble before you. your breath hitches and for some reason, you were no longer able to hold back your tears. jungwon, without hesitation, pulls you into his embrace.
“it’s just hard,” you sobbed into his shoulder, “ i don’t even know how i got here. how did i fall down this path? i don’t want it.”
“it’s not your fault, y/n.” he comforted, “it’s never too late to start all over. you have it in you, you can be the person you want to be. it’s all over now, you and jeno can finally leave. you deserve it.”
“but i don’t want to leave you.” you confessed, pulling away from him.
his shoulders fell and he gently cupped your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, “i don’t want to leave you either,” he admits softly, “but you deserve a chance at a second life.”
you stare into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. never would you have thought that you’d fall for the yang jungwon. the same goes for him. you’re from two very different worlds, it was never expected you’d even be on good terms with each other. but apparently in your situation, it was possible. it was something special.
“heeseung? we’re back.” jungwon announces, heeseung immediately runs up to you.
“you got the amulet?” he asked, a little surprised that you managed to make it back.
“right here,” you pull out the amulet and gave it to him.
he sighs in relief and examines the amulet, “finally,” he mutters under his breath. you watch heeseung in anticipation, waiting for his next words, “good work.” he comments.
you see him glance at someone from behind you, gesturing something. before you could look back, you felt your wrists being restrained, “w-wait, what are you doing?” you panic.
“you really think i’d let a villain run loose? wow, you really are pathetic.” heeseung snickers, “lock her up.” he tells the man that’s restraining you.
shock ran through your body as you try to process what had just happened. you struggle against the restraints and resist the man holding you back but the more you tried, the weaker you felt. your heart races as you were being dragged towards the cells.
“jungwon!” you call out in desperation.
“hey, this wasn’t part of the deal!” he yelled, attempting to run to you but heeseung holds him back. “let her go!” he tries to fight back but it’s no use. you’re already gone.
jungwon looks at heeseung in disbelief, “let her go.” he commands.
“since when did you care about her?” heeseung’s face drops, “don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her… do you know who she is?”
“i know that she’s a good person. she just fell down the right path but she’s capable.” he defends. “and you,” jungwon points a finger at heeseung’s chest, “you could’ve helped her. she wouldn’t be where she is right now if you’d help her when she was a kid. but you left her.” he accused. “you’re no better than her father.”
heeseung’s face hardens the more jungwon accuses him, “that’s not how you talk to your boss. don’t let your emotions take over.”
“i’ll talk to you however i want to!” he retorts, “you let her suffer. you could’ve saved her but you chose not to. you’re just as responsible for how she turned out.”
you sat in your cell, listening to every word that was being exchanged between heeseung and jungwon. you could hear the echoes of jungwon’s heavy footsteps as he walked away in frustration. now it was just you left alone once again.
you pull at your hair in anger. what now?
it felt like hours since you’ve been locked up. you sat against the wall in defeat. you lost. you don’t know what to do anymore. you shouldn’t even be surprised. of course you’d get locked up - you’re a bad guy after all and that’s a hero’s job, put away the bad guys. you should’ve have gotten your hopes up. “jeno?” you croaked.
he hummed in response, “i’m sorry.” you say, your voice cracking, “this is my fault. i shouldn’t have trusted them.”
“it’s not your fault, y/n. stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control. you did what you could.” he says gently.
“we’re never going to be able to be free. it’s never going to happen.”
“you don’t know that,” he whispers, “this might be another one of those sticky situations we get stuck in. we’ll get out of this.”
“it’s not that likely.” you sigh. you close your eyes, feeling exhausted and drained. there really was nothing you could do. all you could do was just sit and await your fate.
moments pass until you hear hurried footsteps coming towards your direction. you perk up, in caution. turning the corner, revealed jungwon who was out of breath. “jungwon?” you stood up and walked closer to the bars. jeno perks up, watching the two of you.
“i’m getting you guys out of here,” he whispers, “i’m not letting you stay here.”
your heart flutters once more. this boy will never fail to surprise you. “but what about heeseung? he’s gonna kill you once he finds out you let us out.” you asked, concerned.
“that doesn’t matter to me. you’re more important.” jungwon opens your cell and quickly moves over to jeno’s.
“why are you helping us?”
“because i know there’s more to you than being a bad guy. you’re a good person, y/n. you just need a chance.” your gaze softens, “come on, hurry. follow me.”
the three of you run through a hidden passageway jungwon found. next thing you knew, you were able to be the light again. you walked until there was some good distance between you and heeseung’s place. reality begins to hit you and you start to realize what’s about to happen. you look at jeno and he gives you a smile before walking away, giving you and jungwon some space. you stand, looking down at your feet, not being able to look at jungwon. you feel him getting closer to you, feeling his breath hit your face. “you made it.” he whispers, tilting your chin up to look at him.
“thanks to you,” you smile at him. “you saved me...”
“you saved me first,” he laughs softly, his smile then falters, “is… it selfish of me to say that i don’t want you to go even though i saved you?”
you laugh, “i don’t think so. i don’t want to leave you behind either.” your eyes well up with tears, “god, jungwon what have you done to me?” you sniffle.
jungwon lets out a small laugh before closing the distance between you. his lips press against yours, almost out of desperation. you return the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. you let your tears fall. you wish this moment could last forever… but unfortunately all good things must come to an end eventually.
you kissed until you ran out of air. pulling away, jungwon wipes your tears away and kisses your forehead. “you guys should start heading out. i don’t want heeseung finding you.” he says, voice wavering.
you nod sadly, “yeah…”
“i’ll come find you, i promise.”
“and i’ll wait for you.” jeno walks up to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving you a comforting smile. you start to back away from jungwon, who gives you a sad smile. if you were able to hear the sound of his heart breaking, it would be very loud and clear. you had to fight the urge to just run back to him and stay with him, but you knew you had to leave. like jungwon said, you deserve a chance. you can’t give up now.
you give jungwon one last wave, “’til next time, partner.” you saluted and blew him a kiss.
there will be a next time. jungwon will make sure of it.
©berryyuni 2024. all work is written by me. do not copy, translate or repost
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c l o s e t o y o u | carmen berzatto x reader
we've got so much history baby
description: set months after your breakup, you and carmen navigate what it means to be separated. you're trying to move on but waves always return to the ocean.
warnings: kinda angsty but also hurt/comfort. mutual pining even tho you're both trying to pretend it isn't there. miscommunication. kinda mentions of cheating if you squint but not really. no one has cheated but what to call this vibe irdk so! also mentions of using the bathroom if that bothers you!! it's quick!
smut warnings: oral/fingering reader receiving, spanking, dirty talk, hints of dom!carmy, unprotected sex but backshots for 'safety', sexting, semi public sex, lots of hickies/bruises talk bc carmy's a lil shit, multiple mentions of masturbation for both, reader has a drunk bar make out phase post breakup. reader is afab but no major descriptors used.
word count: almost 9.2k. the longest thing i've written so far!
a/n: dare i say this might be my favorite thing i've written possibly. aiming to make this a three part series but possibly could go longer.... i hope you enjoy <3
maybe you and i were meant to be / maybe i'm crazy
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
Carmen’s eyes are trained on you from the second your front door opens. His hands stalled halfway through taking off his jacket, only one shoe clattering across your entryway.
“Where’ve you been tonight?”
Which you have no choice but to shoot him a warning glance in response. It was late, you didn’t have the energy for a fight and that’s the complete opposite reason of why you texted him to come over. “I was on a date, Carmen.”
He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”
You can’t meet his eye, can’t risk seeing his reaction. Would he be upset? Indifferent? It’s hard to decide which would be worse.
When you had broken up a few months ago the roles were clear - A case of ‘right person, wrong time’. He was busy, so endlessly busy. Working late into the night and heading in randomly during the morning or afternoon if he was needed. Which he could easily decide he was.
For as long as you could remember Carmen always took Tuesdays off to spend with you and get life in order. That way he had Monday to help the restaurant recover from the weekend and could trust them to handle what was, usually, an easier day. It was a tradition you took seriously and the two of you regularly made plans together every single Tuesday. Date nights, day trips, a mixture of adventures. It didn't matter what you were doing together so long as you had Tuesday to look forward to and help get you through the week.
Yet things started picking up. More celebrity dining requests, more magazine and tv interviews, more, more, more.
And it wasn’t that you misunderstood how important the restaurant was. Far from it. There were many nights where Carmen would come home a ball of anxiety because it took an hour longer than he anticipated and he knew it wasn’t fair to you. There would be a mess of apologies as he barreled in the door, bracing himself for a fight or to see your disappointed face. All of which you happily soothed by repeating constant mantras - The restaurant was his baby; you weren’t upset; take a deep breath; we’re okay.
Then eventually you stopped saying you weren’t upset, stopped saying you two were okay. Eventually you stopped waiting up for him at all. At first Carmen would shower and climb into bed, confused if he should attempt to hold you or not. Your sleeping (Fine, sometimes you faked being asleep too) frame with your back turned to him. The blankets pulled tight around your body acting like a shield.
Finally he just started sleeping on the couch.
So yeah, the fall apart came quick. It was an avalanche neither of you could control nor did either of you want. There was still love between the two of you - But again it’s the right person, wrong time.
You avoided each other for the following weeks. Carmen threw himself even more into work and you took a week of PTO to go visit one of your friends. He wondered if you were safe, you wondered why none of the people in the bar tasted the way he did. Your friend encouraged you with every sloppy make out conquest but it always ended there. You wanted to get Carmen out of your mind but weren’t ready for him to not be the last person who fully touched you.
It didn’t work but does it ever?
Carmen watched your Insta far more than he should have. Risking way too many glances down at his phone during his free time to see if there were any updates about how you were doing. As if you’d post photos with long captions that mimicked a therapy session but he didn’t know where else to go. Sydney would report back what your story shows no matter how much Carm insisted he didn’t care.
Because he didn’t, okay? He was fine. He knew it was for the best. Right?
And then you posted a photo of yourself in a low cut top laughing in a bookstore. He zoomed in to see what titles you had in your arms as if they were clues and his eyes definitely didn’t linger on the swell of your cleavage. He didn’t think about how many nights he took for granted watching as your back arched up under him and you begged for more. He didn’t think about the way you’d crawl into bed at night and his mind would instantly rid itself of anything but you. He didn’t jack off to memories of you in the shower every morning because thinking about someone else, watching porn of other people, it didn’t feel wrong. No, that wasn’t the case at all.
You, on the other hand, turned on Google alerts for anything relating to The Bear or Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. Most of it was just good Yelp! ratings or fluff pieces from the local papers. He wasn’t one for posting on social media, in fact you weren’t sure he used it at all but you still posted like he was, but sometimes you’d find yourself scrolling through Sydney’s feed to see if she was giving you any crumbs. Sometimes, if you were really desperate, you’d find yourself in Richie’s feed even. It was pathetic but you can’t help it.
One late night you came across an Instagram story post Sydney had up. Carmen leaning against a pinball machine at some gaming bar downtown. His hair was pushed back, eyes crinkled up with laughter. He looked at ease, peaceful. You wondered if anyone there felt the same… Was someone whispering to their friends and trying to build the encouragement up to go talk to him? Would he respond?
Right, it wasn’t your place to care anymore. Yet you still cried yourself to sleep and yearned for when things felt so much easier.
Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well.
A few weeks ago you came across Carmen at the grocery store of all places. Both of you had gotten so used to doing the shopping Tuesday mornings and, logically, you were both comfortable going to the location just like you had been weekly for months. Your breath caught in your throat and God he looked better than you remembered. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Great sale on gouda this week.” And the only thing your brain could conjure up was, “Well that’s gouda.”
You both stayed silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter.
Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner.
Lunch turned into you straddling Carmen’s waist in the car while parked in the very back corner of the parking lot and riding him until your eyes watered and you couldn’t focus long enough to keep a rhythm. He wrapped his arms, such strong arms, around your waist and fucked up into you for all that he was worth. Trying to prove himself in whatever capacity you allowed.
If he couldn’t love you like he wanted, he could at least fuck you better than anyone else would.
Once you two broke the seal of seeing each other it was hard to stop. There was almost a forbidden aspect to your relationship now that caused a small thrill to run down your spine every time you saw him late at night. You were pretty sure no one knew you started… Seeing each other again and you were both content keeping it a secret.
So that’s how you ended up here. Standing across from him at 11 o’clock at night on a random Wednesday. You try not to wonder if he left ‘early’ the second you reached out, instead convincing yourself that it just so happened to work out he was ready to go within minutes of you sending your ‘My place tonight?’ text during this horrific blind date your co-worker set up.
Jonathan, 6’1, finance major turned CPA for his family’s company. He was… Fine. Just fine. You left on good terms in case you wanted to call on him for back up one lonely night. The problem was no one else was Carmen no matter how hard you tried to look for him in the people that passed by.
And there he stood across from you with hair falling into his face and his eyes looking up at you like you’re crafted from Heaven. A skirt, thin tinted tights, a shirt that exposed just enough skin but not too much. The soft shimmer across your eyelids and glossy lips from the lip balm you’ve been continuously applying since you knew he was on the way. The last time he saw you like this was when you were fighting because Carmen accidentally showed up 15 minutes past when you were supposed to leave for a birthday party at your friend’s house and that night ended with you locking him out of the bedroom while he had to pretend he couldn’t hear you crying in the next room. He really didn’t mean to be late. Sometimes the nights just got taken away from him.
Carmen hated that you were dressed up for someone else but he pretends you just threw this on for him.
Your arms cross your chest, totally not attempting to push up your breasts, and you let out a sigh while you stare at Carmen. “This has to be the last time.” His face is stoic, a perfect poker face. The last time? Break up or not he couldn’t imagine there being a last time he saw you. Half the time he forgets, still referring to you as his partner while brushing it off and refusing to correct himself. Then there’s times where he comes home to his empty apartment and realizes you weren’t there to light the long forgotten candles on the coffee table or open up the windows to air the place out.
He closes the space between the two of you and stares at your face. Searching for answers he’s too scared to ask for. Your resolve is breaking, cracking under the weight of having him so close. Beautiful eyes staring at you, the way he smells like the cologne you bought for your last anniversary and clean laundry. If you weren’t so drunk on the sight of him you would have put it together that Carmen kept clean clothes at the Bear to make sure he could change before he came to see you.
You’re both silent for a moment before there’s two hands wrapping around either side of your neck and Carmen’s dragging you two together for a kiss. God, he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else kissing you. Would they even do it right? Do they know the way you moan when he licks into your mouth or the way you always grab ahold of his wrists when he cups your face? Do they know the way you forget to breathe sometimes when you’re lost in it? He’d have to pull back in order to give you a second to gasp in a rush of air. Does whoever you were with tonight know any of that?
You pull away from Carmen with a broken out moan, silva connecting your mouths and the faint taste of cigarettes on your tongue from him. Clamping your hands on his shoulders you just faintly push the two of you apart, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. Carmen crying during the break up, sobbing in your bed, living on autopilot for weeks, the way he kisses you like he’s scared it’s the last time anymore because it very well just might be. Everything coming back to you in flashes as he stands before you once again.
“I called you here for a reason, Carm.” His eyebrow is cocked, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his jeans that started growing the second he kissed you. “Uh - Yeah? Isn’t that what… I thought that’s what we were doing?” Carmen’s leaning in again, letting his lips connect to your neck. Warm kisses being pressed in a path up to just below your ear. “No uh, oh, remember how you let me keep the cast iron?” He hums in response, teeth nipping at your earlobe while broad hands start grabbing at your waist. “Yeah, uh huh, the cast iron skillet.” Fuck the stupid cast iron. He’s much more concerned with hooking fingers in the waistband of your skirt, attempting to pull it down while you’re fighting to stay focused.
“Well my friends came over the other night and oh Jesus.” He’s licking a strip up your neck now, only half focused on your story. “Carm, please, they were helping me clean up and someone left it soaking in hot water overnight.” That’s finally got him freezing in place, his aroused little sounds quickly turning into a groan of annoyance. “Fuck. That ruined-… I mean, the seasoning has to be ruined. Assuming it rusted?” You nod helpless, fingers dragging along his chest while Carmen stares over your shoulder.
His eye twitches involuntarily.
There’s a deep sigh coming from his body as he steps around you, finally kicking off his long forgotten second shoe before walking further into the apartment to head towards the kitchen.
And listen, it wasn’t that you were necessarily concerned so much with the pan. Sure the two of you had purchased it together during the first few weeks of talking. Carmen cooked breakfast with it every Tuesday morning and showed you how to care for this damn pan. It was the closest you two came to owning a pet just… In the form of a nine inch cast iron skillet. You were more curious if he would care. A simple way of testing the waters to see if he just cared about getting laid or still cared about you. The answer should have been obvious but you still had to know.
You follow behind him and wince at the stream of expletives that easily fall from his tongue at the sight of the pan in the sink. It wasn’t horrible but wasn’t ideal. “Y’know, crazy thing is I’m pretty sure I can guess who did this. They kept trying to convince me cast iron wasn’t any different from a standard pan no matter how many times I tried convincing them that just wasn’t the case.” He’s grumbling to himself while crouching down to fish out supplies from under the sink, easily navigating your apartment from memory. The two of you had bounced between your places and talked about moving in together once his lease was up. Going as far as touring a few locations but the conversation was long forgotten once the tensions started building.
As much as Carmen claims he didn’t see it coming, he resigned his lease almost two weeks before the break up officially happened.
You hop up onto the counter next to the sink and watch as Carmen gets to work restoring your pan. “Think it's gonna make it through? I can't believe this is how it might end for the poor thing. All because I wanted to make your chicken piccata.” A few of his recipes had stuck with you and sometimes you find yourself making them when you’re missing him extra at night.
“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just some surface damage s’all.” You watch as the muscles in Carmen’s arm move with the scrubbing motion, your lips itching to kiss over every exposed tattoo. Snap out of it! This is just sex between two consenting adults trying to let off some steam. That’s all. You’re both just comfortable and it would take way too much effort for someone random like Jonathan to learn what you like.
Carmen catches you staring at him, not that you were being subtle about it, and feels heat blooming in his chest. He grabs one of your kitchen towels and gives the skillet a good pat down before sitting it upside down to dry off. It’s not perfect, not yet at least, but he’s pretty sure he’ll explode if it takes any longer to finally get his hands on you.
“You look pretty tonight.” He’s coming to stand between your knees, reaching up to you with the hem of your skirt as you hum out a small “Thank you.” It seems like every time you see him lately you forget just how blue his eyes are. So easy to get lost in them especially from this close. Your hands come up to gently trace the features of his face. Just the ghost of a touch but Carmen’s soaking up the affection. He tilts his head in order to press a kiss to your palm.
His hands are dragging up your thighs, feeling the material of your tights under his touch. “Know how much you hate wearing these.” Your heartbeat is picking up so much it’s making you jittery, hands wrapping around the edge of the countertop to grip it as hard as you can. Keeping yourself steady. “Help me take ‘em off?” You arch your hips up off the counter as an invitation for Carmen. He’s wasting no time grabbing ahold of the waistband and dragging them down your body, groaning to himself as inch by inch your skin gets exposed to him.
Neither of you miss the way you press your thighs together once they’re freed, hips twitching in anticipation. The tights are getting tossed across your apartment and left to be tomorrow’s problem. Carmen falls to his knees in front of you, letting them dig into the harsh tile of your kitchen while in pursuit of making his mark on you. He’s grabbing ahold of your ankles, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder while the other is brought up to his lips.
Your eyes fall closed as Carmen starts trailing a string of delicate kisses along the length of your calf. His lips ghosting across your knee until he reaches the fleshy part of your thigh. While your hands finally escape the countertop and find their way laced into Carmen’s hair, he wraps his lips down against your thigh to start sucking a small bruise into your skin. “Carmy,” You hiss out, “What if I see Jonathan again? How am I gonna explain these?” But you’re not pulling his head away, instead doing quite the opposite by keeping his head in place.
Carmen practically growls against your skin, a low and guttural sound coming from the man. His grip on you tights while he mumbles against you, “Fuck Jonathan.” You scrub your fingers against his scalp as Carmen finds another patch of skin on the opposite thigh to begin sucking a bruise into. His head ducking lower and lower under your skirt, the material finally getting you to pull your hands away from him.
Against all better judgment your thighs fall more open as he works his way down your thighs. There’s a series of small moans and whimpers coming out of you with no control as he reaches the top of your thigh, his nose dragging along the cloth covering your core. “D’you wear these for him? Or did you put them on knowing you’d end up texting me.” It’s impossible to answer when you feel his tongue drag along you, your hips rocking up towards his mouth. He’s bringing his hands up under your skirt now too and grabbing handfuls of where your thighs meet your hips to hold you down in place.
“They’re purple, aren’t they?” A color Carmen had long ago decided he liked best on you. Something about the way the color compliments your skin… In all honesty, you were pretty sure he had purchased the exact pair you were wearing. You started the night with no intention of your date getting anywhere near your bed but instead being under the frame of the man who was exactly where you wanted him.
He guides you to scoot you closer towards the edge of the counter, making sure you’re comfortable before mouthing over you once again. Hot, open mouth kisses being pressed almost exactly where you need them. One of his hands comes around your frame to grab a handful of the fleshy part of your ass while the other hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling the material to the side to expose you.
There’s cool air being blown against your overheated body and your hands fly back to clutch at his back, his neck, the hair that’s exposed from under your skirt. Whatever inch of him you can find is being clung to like a lifeboat. He’s kissing the skin where your thigh meets your center, lips ghosting along the outer side of your folds. It only takes a few more pathetic whimpers before he finally takes pity on you and you feel his tongue go flat at the base of your hole, dragging up long and slow all the way to your clit.
He groans into your core and the vibrations make you start to lose your mind. “Fuck. Fuck!” Carmen’s got your clit between his lips now, bobbing his head just slightly while he goes right to sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. If you didn’t want to be teased then he’d give you everything you wanted. One of his hands comes up under his chin now, a finger pressing into your tight entrance as his tongue works to lap at your clit, your folds, even dipping into you whenever his finger pulls all the way out.
A second finger slides into you while his attention focuses back to making out with your clit. You can’t keep track of the way he alternates between kissing and licking at you while his fingers push in as deep as he can get them. “So good, Baby.” Baby. It comes out of you by force of habit and it makes him twitch in his boxes. If you weren’t so drunk on him you probably would have started overthinking but he’s making sure your focus is on nothing else but his mouth for now. Carmen’s chin is slick with everything you’re giving him as he eats you out as if he’s a dying man and this is his last source of solace in the world.
“C’mon Honey.” He’s cooing against you, fingers crooked just how he knows you like it. There’s sloppy licks being delivered to your clit as his fingers pump in and out. His hand finally leaves it’s grip on your ass to apply a gentle pressure to the top of your mound, pressing down against the flesh to add yet another sensation. “Can feel how tight you’re getting. You wanna come for me so bad, don’t you? Be good for me.”
Your hands fist around Carmen’s hair, hips rocking up against him and it doesn’t take long for an orgasm to wash over your body. You seize up at the feeling, thighs clamping around Carmen’s head as he licks you through it. He’s only giving you a moment to recover when you feel his fingers slide out of your sensitive body and he can’t help but go back to licking out the mess you’ve made.
“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”
He’s smirking against you but taking the hint. Your thighs shaking as he pulls back from under your skirt, taking a moment to appreciate the handiwork that was the bruises covering your thighs while you take a moment to recover. The way your pussy looks so pretty covered in the mixture of your arousal and his spit. Carmen can’t help himself but to swirl his thumb around your clit, your hips jolting up as you reach out to grab ahold of his wrist. “Need a minute please.”
Carmen nods and stands up, wasting no time making work of unbuckling his belt. You collect your thoughts well enough to start unbuttoning his jeans for him, letting your fingers linger on his jean clad hardened length. “You, uh -” You won’t meet his eye, opting instead to start pulling his pants down his toned thighs. “You still okay not using a condom?” A roundabout way of saying ‘I’m clean, are you?’. Carmen nods as if it’s the most insane question in the world. Even if he’s not with you anymore, it’s still only you for him for as long as he can see coming. “No one but you.”
You can’t meet his eye, a wave of guilt washing over you concerning your earlier date with Jonanthan that quickly gets pushed away when Carmy grabs ahold of your jaw and brings you in for a haphazard kiss. Mindless, heavenly kissing. The two of you getting lost in the way your tongues know just how to navigate one another while your hand slides into his boxes and begins lazily
“Gotta fuck you or I’m gonna cum on your hand like a fuckin’ teenager.” You giggle into his mouth but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless. Giving him one more tender kiss before turning around to bend yourself over the counter. It’s not the most gracious process but you’re tugging your shirt over your head on the way down, pitching it somewhere else to deal with later.
He’s looking at every inch of you. Underwear still pulled to the side, the way the lace of your bra looks against your back. Memorizing every detail he possibly can just in case you wise up and stop letting him come over to defile you like this at night.
Carmen is dragging the head of his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit while you whine and rut back against him. The weight of his jeans and belt resting heavy against his ankles and keeping him grounded enough to not spill his load before he even makes it inside of you. You weren’t used to taking him all the time anymore, a thought Carmen can’t dwell on, so he goes inch by inch and gives you time to adjust to the girth of him. He was thicker than anyone you’d been with before and every random hookup together lately reminds you of the first time you felt him stretch you out.
It burns in the best way possible and he’s so tender while you get adjusted. Waiting until you start fucking yourself against his length to take that as his sign you were finally ready for him. Carmen still starts slow, a teasing pace of pulling himself nearly all the way out before sinking right back in. “Pussy’s like heaven.” It makes you oddly proud to hear him call that out. To know you still have an affect on him after all this time.
“Think about fuckin’ you all the time.” He’s picking up speed now, “Think about how good you feel stretched around me. Such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Bending over and practically begging for it.” His words, once again, make your head spin. It was a common theme with Carmen. Your fingers lace in your own hair, desperate to grab ahold of something. “Always wanting you to fuck me, Carm. Dream about how good you make me feel.” Like you two were meant to fit together perfectly.
There’s a lewd clapping noise coming from the way your ass smacks against his frame with each deep thrust. Eventually your arms give out, torso falling flat against the shockingly still cool countertop while Carmen fucks into you for all he’s worth. A firm slap is being delivered to your ass that causes you to yelp out, rolling your hips back against him at the same time as an act of encouragement.
His mind is taken up with how good you feel. You’re perfectly stretched around him and leaking out around his base. So wet, so beautiful, so perfect. There’s a hand sliding up your back until it’s fisting around your hair, gently tugging at it and the new sensation has these pornstar worthy moans escaping you. Your loud and needy brain is completely empty as Carmen destroys you the way he knows how.
“D’you think about me fucking you while you were sitting across from some asshole all night? Poor little pussy almost got fucked by someone who doesn’t know how to treat it.” His words are so casually spoken with just the right amount of bite that it’s causing your brain to melt. Jonathan didn’t stand a chance of getting within two feet of your panties, just another mindless date in your series of attempted ways to ‘get over Carmen’ which clearly wasn’t going well. He bottoms out in you, every inch of his length pressed as firmly as he can into your core. It’s so much, so full and he’s got you pinned in place. Unable to do anything but be used by him, just how you both know you love to be. “Or did you go just to make me jealous? Put on your slutty little panties and went to dinner knowing you’d text me to come fuck you tonight.”
He’s grinding his hips into you on the impossible quest to get even deeper. It’s possessive, claiming, and you’d probably even be a little annoyed by his behavior if you were in a better state of mind. For now you’re bent over the counter with bruises blooming all over your thighs and enjoying an odd jealous streak coming from someone who, technically, has no right to be jealous. It’s making you feel dizzy and your heart throb and your pussy clenching around him. “You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me, Carm? ‘Cause if not I’ll call him to finish the job.”
You liked riling him up.
Another sharp smack is being dealt to your ass when Carmen starts to pick the pace back up. His hands are tight on your hips and his pace is brutal. There’s grunts coming from behind you that are making your head spin and if you were more coherent you’d be a bit more embarrassed about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your boyfrie-….. Well, as Carmen takes care of you. He’s admiring the bloom of his handprint on your skin, brushing his hand along it before pressing firmly down to help soothe the buzzing sting of pain.
He wasn’t fucking you as often, didn’t have you nearly as well trained anymore. These bi-weekly meetings are not doing nearly enough for your body. He used to be able to fuck you right through an orgasm and you’d keep going. So used to him working your oversensitive clit to his liking. Now you whine while grabbing his wrist and whimper out pleas for him to give you a few minutes. He hates not knowing your body as well as he used to even if he still knows you pretty damn well.
So when he feels you getting closer, he’s taking note. Keeping his pace exactly the same and letting his hand crash down against the tender flesh of your ass again. “You gonna give me another? C’mon, Honey. Can feel how bad you need it.” And you do. God you need every orgasm you’re lucky enough to get from him.
Your hips buck and twitch and you let out a series of uncontrolled moans as your orgasm starts to wash over your body. If Carmen wasn’t between your legs then your thighs would have snapped shut while your toes curled and your heart started beating faster. You could practically hear it beating in your own ears. “S’good, so good. Thank you, thank you. Shit, thank you.” A mess but you couldn’t judge yourself.
Carmen’s pulling out when he’s close after just a few more strokes, frantically jerking off his length to keep the sensation going. You’re rolling your hips back and riding out the waves of your own orgasm, glancing back over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Carmen with his head tossed back and brows knitted together in concentration. “Come on me, Baby. Wanna feel every drip on my skin. Maybe I’ll let you take a picture of it dripping down all the pretty bruises you gave me.”
That’s all it takes for him to come undone. Warm spurts of cum landing along your back, your thighs, some of it dripping down your folds. The feeling is pulling wanton moans from your mouth that send Carmen into orbit. God, he doesn’t want to come back down to Earth. Collecting his breath and trying to keep himself upright while the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body. How was he supposed to stay away from you when it felt like this? Especially when you just kept calling him baby.
He stopped cumming inside of you since the breakup. It made sense, kinda. But you hated it. Felt like a waste even though you wouldn’t overstep and ask for him to go back to finishing inside of you. He would, by the way. Without a second thought he’d bury himself in until he couldn’t go any further and fuck his cum into you as deep as possible.
You feel a finger swiping up some of his cum off your backside and soon enough it’s pressed to your lips. Without a second thought you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while licking him clean. He wants some of it inside of you one way or another. A subtle way of still putting his claim on you.
The two of you take a moment to recover after Carmen pops his finger out of your mouth. His hands are running a circuit up and down the side of your thighs and torso, still enjoying the view of your body relaxed against the counter in front of him. The tile was starting to become painful as your stomach bent over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. You didn’t fully trust your legs to support your weight without the counter for support.
Carmen’s rustling around behind you now. Reaching down to pull up just his boxes but kick his jeans the rest of the way off finally. He’s not ready for the stimulation of such a heavy material against his sensitive skin yet. There’s a clattering from the sink area as he retrieves another towel to get wet for you and a cup to fill with water. Your eyes feel heavy. Mind’s at ease having Carmen around again, not that you’ll admit it, and your body feeling languid after being fucked so well.
There’s a glass of water being sat in front of you. “Drink.” So you prop yourself up on your elbows and nurse small sips of the water while the cool rag gets to work wiping down your backside from the mess he made. His fingers ghost along the tender flesh of your ass where he was spanking, “Feeling alright?” You hum into the cup, giving him a small waggle of your behind to reassure any concerns he had.
He gets you cleaned up in silence, letting the both of you enjoy the simple moment. Carmen always prided himself on taking care of you. There’s warm hands, still damp from cleaning you up, rubbing up the sides of your torso before wrapping around the tops of your shoulders. His hips rub along your backside and you just feel so warm, so safe like this. “We gotta get you to bed.”
You just sigh and scrub your hands over your face. A beat of silence passes while you collect your thoughts. “Carm, I don’t think I can stand up.” Your legs are still slightly shaking and your mind has yet to catch up with your body.
Laughter’s coming from behind you as he delivers a playful swat to your ass. “C’mon I’ll get you there.” This feels so simple. You find yourself questioning why the two of you even broke up to begin with when the good moments were this good. Easy, content, safe. Would you ever be able to find this again? Would he?
He’s grabbing ahold of your waist while pulling you back into his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder and Carmen allows his lips to once again find your exposed neck. A series of gentle kisses being placed as his arms snake tighter around your body. “Still feeling okay?” You let out a content hum and allow yourself to be held by him. “Feel better than I have all week. Thank you, Carm.” You feel him smile against your skin as he places another delicate kiss. “Always.”
The two of you stay intertwined until Carmen starts to encourage the shuffle towards your bedroom. He makes sure you get cleaned up and ready for bed. Brings you one of your sleep shirts while you brush your teeth and tries to not overthink when you offer him a toothbrush of his own because you just so happened to have an extra. Gives you privacy when you complain about needing to pee and you find it odd there’s a tug at your chest when he ducked out of the room. Part of you hated being that couple who left the door open or used the restroom while the other showered, yadda yadda. It was a sign of comfort and the door being pulled shut behind Carmen was a sign that comfort was long gone.
Not that you cared. Totally didn’t care at all.
He’s going to just tuck you in at first until you’re clutching at his frame and pulling him into bed next to you. Carmen never could say no when it came to you, especially when he feels his back sinking into your soft bed and your warm body curling up along his side. He should go. Get home before it’s too late and try to get some sleep. He’s already planning on getting to work early to avoid having too much free time to think about tonight in detail.
But his clothes feel so far away and the long day is starting to finally hit him. You can practically hear him thinking over his options and your breathing starts skipping as you feel him begin to pull away.
“Carmen.” Your grip on his chest tightens and it pulls directly at his heart. Since this whole… Situation started he never stayed the night when your meetings would run this late. Always picking his clothes up out of piles on the floor and mumbling something about needing to get home to get stuff together from work. You never asked him to stay anyway. Neither of you knew if that would make an already weird and complicated situation even worse.
But tonight was different.
There were hints of a storm in the distance you start telling yourself. If you focused you could hear thunder, somewhere, out there and you just wanted Carmen safe for his sake. That’s all. So you pathetically cling to him and hope you don’t kick yourself out of embarrassment in the morning. It takes just a moment of him looking down at you to understand what you can’t say and he’s giving you a little nod in response. His arms wrap around your shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head. Kissing every inch of you had to be one of his greatest pleasures in life.
“Remind me to season that skillet in the morning.”
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
Carmen, shockingly, sleeps through the night. The warmth of your body next to him coupled with your excellent sleeping experience. A comfortable bed with good pillows, a white noise machine in the corner of your room (the ice maker in the fridge at Carmy’s would constantly go off so you got used to sleeping with background noise to cover it up), it was the best night of rest he’s had in months.
Your sheets smell like home.
He’s slowly waking up now and his first thought is how much he misses the weight of your breast in his hand. Second thought is how much he needs to pee but damn your bed is comfortable.
Carmen allows his body to wake up slowly. Stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of his well rested muscles. Blinking his eyes awake just enough to take in the sight of all the trinkets and items that covered your space. There’s some things he notices that he knows for a fact he purchased you. Bottles of perfume, books you keep telling yourself you need to read, cups you constantly forget to bring back into the kitchen until you’re fully out of them.
Did you keep any of the pictures? Photo strips from Navy Pier and the holiday market at Wrigley Field. Everything from the disposable camera you brought along on road trips and vacations. The polaroids that once littered a cork board in your living room that the two of you added pictures to so often. If he looked around enough would he find them tucked away safely in a box or did you pitch them when you knew the two of you were through.
Carmen still has one. You took most of them while you packed up your things from his place and refused to let him carry any of the boxes downstairs. So stubborn, so full of hurt pride. He just spent most of the day trying to stand out of your way but always available in case you finally admitted that you needed help. Maybe a small part of him hoped that as you packed up so many memories it would trigger a ‘What are we doing?’ reaction and you’d go running into his arms.
You never did.
But you did take one trip down to your car with an overstuffed Ikea bag over your shoulder and balancing a box on your hip. Carmen knew he didn’t have long, and it kind of felt like stealing, but he rushed over to the box you just started packing up and rifles through the photos as fast as he possibly could. It took a moment of digging before there it was. A polaroid photo someone took of the two of you on New Year’s Eve. You’re wearing some cheesy headband and he has those tacky sunglasses on that show off the incoming year on them. His arms are wrapped low around your waist as he stands behind you, one of your hands resting on top of his while the other is reaching up and back to cup his jaw. You’re both grinning and laughing in the photos and nothing bad has happened yet.
He hears you shuffling back up the stairs so he’s quickly throwing the box back together after sliding the photo into his pocket and rushing back to stand in the kitchen. Acting like nothing was happening. You didn’t even look over at him so it wasn’t like he had to put up much of a show anway.
It’s still safely tucked into his wallet.
The sound of the front door opening and hushed whispers are finally pulling him from his half asleep, reflective state. It looks like this day is getting started if he wants it to or not. He’s tilting his head to press it into the pillow underneath him, allowing one last deep inhale to remind himself exactly what your scent smells like before forcing his body to be pushed out of your bed.
Carmen turns the corner in just his boxer briefs and you’re not convinced you aren’t still dreaming because fuck he looks good. His hair’s a mess from the combination of you playing with it all night and him sleeping so well. One of his hands is scratching low on his hips while he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen.
Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable walking around your apartment half dressed still but God is this relationship situation getting messier since the day since the two of you reconnected.
“Ordered some breakfast from Yolk. Figured you were hungry and I’m sure you have to run off this morning but I uh-…. I just wanted to make sure you were fed.” You nod to yourself. Giving him an out as you start popping open food boxes. There was just over an hour until you had to get to work too so there were multiple excuses possible for this morning to end as early as it needed to.
In an odd, roundabout, time to head back to therapy kind of way it almost feels like you’re dating your ex.
“Yeah.” He nods to himself and desperately wishes he had deodorant, cologne, fuck even Axe body spray. Something to make himself smell better or feel more presentable for you. “Richie actually tried installing fuckin’ bidets to the toilets last night. Kept on running his mouth about how prestigious they are and he, obviously, doesn’t know how to install bidets. So the bathrooms are a little-“ He waves his hands through the air.
“Shitty?”
Second questionable pun you’ve made lately. Pull it together.
There’s a breathy little laugh coming out, “Yeah, shitty.” Carmen’s peeking over your shoulder as you plate up breakfast, sneaking a piece of bacon from under your arm before pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “Thank you for ordering this.”
You nod and try to pretend you didn’t stop breathing having him so close to you under the soft morning light.
He leaves $60 tucked under a vase on your dining table to cover breakfast.
————
11:52 am
[DO NOT ANSWER]: Richie put his foot down and we’re stuck getting the bidets
[DO NOT ANSWER]: If you’re wondering how my day is going
12:17 pm
Shockingly my day is much less toilet related. I hope it’s going well.
4:39 pm
[DO NOT ANSWER]: I know so much about bathrooms now
————
You laugh a little too loud as the alert illuminates your phone. There’s a fond tugging at your heart as the ‘normal’ conversations fills your chat history instead of the short “My place tn” or “I still can’t find my jacket. You have to have it”. Maybe saving him as do not answer seemed too harsh but having his contact show up as a photo of you two cuddled up with the Chicago skyline in the background, an innocent and horrifically cheesy “Baby Boy 💙” contact name modeled after Richie saying you baby him too much one night. Every time it flashed across your screen and Richie saw he gave you guys an endless amount of shit. It became a constant bit that none of you got tired of at the time.
You were trying to separate yourself from your past with him as much as possible at first but now those lines just keep getting more and more blurred.
One of your coworkers grabs your attention away from your phone thus leaving Carmen’s message on read. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he gets to work prepping for tonight’s service. Who wants to talk about bathrooms with their… Fuck buddy? Ex? God that’s still so weird to say.
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
Your mind was haunted by thoughts of Carmen Berzatto all day.
No matter how many busy tasks you assigned yourself he always seemed to creep back in. You’d look around for him when a joke landed well at work and the group you were with erupted into laughter. Could easily picture his head thrown back as he scrubs over his face in an attempt to muffle the sound. When you were standing alone your mind wandered off to the way he treated you last night. So claiming. Expertly working your body the way only he could after so much time of getting to know it.
The bed feels so much
You throw the blanket away from your frame and watch as it bundles up beside you. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. You shake out the nerves, fluffing up your shorts and primping yourself for the photo. It takes one, two, seven pictures to get just the right angle. An image of your thighs against the bedding and your oversized sleep shorts bunched up all the way down your legs. Taking a deep breath you steel your spine and pull up Carmen’s contact.
————
11:28 pm
Headed to bed
ONE IMAGE ATTACHED
11:29 pm
[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.
11:31 pm
Goodnight Carmen <3
2:12 am
[DO NOT ANSWER]: Can’t stop thinking about you
ONE VIDEO ATTACHED
————
The sun is warm against your skin as it slowly wakes you up. There’s an air purifier rattling in the corner that acts half as white noise while you sleep, half to soak up the smells of Chicago. Sometimes when Carmen’s especially exhausted you have to bring out the big boy and ask your Google home to play sleep sounds to mask him snoring all night. You typically didn’t mind the sound, knowing it’s a sign of just how badly he needed a good night’s rest.
You’re fishing your phone out of the comforter in a haste to click off the horrific sound of the alarm and your eyes are barely open when you see the alert. A preview image popping up and you can just barely a blurry image of - “Holy fuck!”
Your free hand flies up to clamp over your mouth as a mix of gasps and ‘no fucking way’ come out of you with zero control. With shaking hands you open up the video, half tempted to pinch yourself with a video of Carmen fills your screen. His hand rubbing over the bulge in his boxers and there’s a mess of shaky breathing coming from behind the phone. You can’t get the volume turned all the way up fast enough and you’re terrified to miss a single sound.
And there he is.
Fishing his cock out of his boxers and stroking himself for you. Illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table and his hand over lubricated to mimic how wet you get for him. He’s a mess of filthy moans, bucking hips, are you dreaming?
The combination of the sun beating in and the way this video is making your body go hot is too much. You’re overheating, kicking the blankets away from you while your hand goes into your shorts on instinct. Toying with your clit even though you don’t have much time to spare as you watch Carmen get off for you.
————
8:04 am
HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO
Mine tonight?
Fuck you sound so good
Wish I would have been there to clean you up
Say my name more next time please
How am I supposed to go to work now
————
No response. You aren’t surprised, he’s typically busy in the morning.
So you go along your day and let yourself enjoy the thought of Carmen coming back over tonight to take care of you. You had thought letting him back in was a risky move but things seemed fine so far. Settling into the new version of what normal was going to look like. Maybe things would end up being some version of alright after all.
A chirp from your phone catches your attention and you’re instantly uninvested in whatever task was at hand. It might be a little pathetic how excited you were but that is besides the point.
————
10:32 am
[CARMEN]: Busy tonight
————
Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen!
You waited all morning and THAT’S the response you get? Were the multiple texts too much? Did you come off too clingy? Sure he just stayed the night, was two times in one week where he drew the line?
So you leave him on read and take away the heart from his video. Change his name back to DO NOT ANSWER and instantly feel the urge to get off tonight leaving your body. Replaced by a subtle anger that only he can bring out of you.
The workday seems to go by so much quicker as you have this internal argument with yourself and mentally pick a battle with Carmen. Maybe you were silly to think things would… What? Go back to the way they were? No, of course not.
Ugh!
Carmen who, by the way, truly was slammed. Got stuck hosting an event for an old family friend that he barely knew but was convinced it’d be good for business. He’s overwhelmed by work and anxious with his relationship with you. The breakup was horrific. One of the worst things he’s had to experience so far which certainly says a lot. At the very least - It made sense. This though? Sleeping together, fucking when you have shitty dates and he’s your second choice for the night, taking pictures of dumb things he sees during the day because it made him think of you but never actually sending them, it made zero sense.
If only there was something the two of you could do to figure this whole mess out.
But alas.
You bring home a salad that’s far healthier than anything you’ve eaten all week accompanied by some fresh pressed green juice nonsense you lie to yourself and mentally say is delicious. The boy detox starts now.
The shower you take that night must last an hour. Every inch of your body gets scrubbed, your face and hair both get a mixture of treatments and masks. You primp and polish yourself up and convince yourself that this is all for you and not so you look better than ever and Carmen will have to regret his stupid and shitty ‘Busy tonight’ text because you were also just like so, so busy and -
Fuck Carmen Berzatto.
You decide you could go the rest of your life without hearing from him and be just fine. It was his loss. You’re funny, beautiful, and excellent in the bedroom. There’s thousands of people out there dreaming about finding someone like you!
This internal argument keeps going. And you know what’s annoying? The second you fling yourself into bed you realize he left his scent all over your sheets still. It hasn’t gone away - Cologne mixed with Carmen. And you 100% aren’t hunting out the scent nor are you hunting out a reason to stay annoyed with him. Not at all. So you get back out of bed and grab the fabric freshener to spray your sheets back down with, giving it a minute to dry before falling face first into the mattress with an annoyed huff.
So yeah, fuck him. You hope you never hear from him again and toss your phone on the other side of the bed. Forcing your eyes shut and making your mind go blank because otherwise you’ll stew all night thus continuing this Carmen induced spiral.
————
1:47 am
[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey
————
Fuck.
#♡: c.b.#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#the bear#the bear fic#the bear smut#carmy x reader#carmy smut#carmy the bear#carmy bearzatto x you
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Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?
(p.s. you can leave this off anon)
(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)
There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing
I'm going to tackle this two ways...
#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.
I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.
And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."
You know what I mean?
#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.
So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥
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Your small town has been invaded by a biker club. They want a peaceful takeover but they can twist your arm if needed.
Holy shnikes, I spent so much time working on this! I almost had to make it a two part story! I've barely been able to work on anything else because I needed to get this story written up instead. I honestly think I've never written anything like this before.
Word Count: ~3.6k
Warnings: Choking, Dub/non consent, Implied violence, Knife play (mild). Please let me know if I missed any!
Next Part
Sheriff Lee Bodecker and Mayor John Walker caved to the bikers pretty quickly. Part of you could understand why; only a handful of officers in the entire county compared to a full biker gang? They'd never stand a chance. Better to be allowed to live without having to worry about ending up in the hospital. The Mayor didn't care so long as he got to keep his job, which now meant making the bikers happy.
Which meant paying the bikers with money from the city budget. Your library's budget in particular.
When you'd tried to argue about it, Mayor Walker hit back with "well we can't take any more from the school! Besides, no one needs the library anymore. They've all got their home computers and Internet. You'll be fine with the new budget."
In the end you'd had to let go all but one very part-time employee, relying on two or three volunteers instead. You were already working long hours but now they felt endless. With the budget cut, you had to reduce the purchases of new books in favor of maintaining the Internet connection several of older patrons relied on. Almost half of your day was spent working on applying for grants for additional funding for after-school programs and free-lunch programs for during the summer breaks.
Looking over everything, you were certain you'd have to dip into your own meager savings if you were going to meet the needs of your community. Mayor Walker really didn't seem to understand what the people of his city actually needed, but he didn't seem to care so long as he was in charge.
During an after-school reading time with the Kindergartners you're surprised by the entrance of one of the bikers. You think he's the second-in-command, but you're not sure. He's definitely not the blond in charge; "Cap" you think they call their leader. Still, you have kids to take care of, and this newcomer is a grown man. He can take care of himself.
When the story is done it's time for a nap for the kids. This is very likely the longest they've ever been away from home, away from family, and the sleep helps keep them from getting overstimulated. It was another thing Mayor Walker just didn't understand. All of these kids had parents that worked full time and couldn't afford a babysitter. There were no daycare options, either. Decades ago the kids could be left with a grandparent or a cousin, but they're all working as well or moved out of town. That left the library as a haven for the kids who didn't have access to the limited after-school activities as an option.
If there's anything good about working in such a tiny library it's that you can keep an eye on the kids and the biker while going about your other duties. Thankfully you'd gotten some WD-40 for the book carts so they wouldn't squeak and wake anyone up while you re-shelve books.
You also get a better look at the biker. He's sitting in one of the chairs reading The Hobbit. You hate to admit it but he does look handsome. Longish dark hair, steely blue eyes. For some reason he's still wearing his gloves. If only his arrival hadn't heralded such troubles for you. Well, at least he wasn't causing trouble.
Shelving the books gets you a bit of stretching and some impromptu squat exercises. You spend so much of your time at a desk that this is the closest thing you get to a workout. Given how your body continually snaps, crackles and pops, you could probably use more.
Your exercise is cut short by Ruth's entry and you have to fight the urge to let out a groan. Ruth is one of the older ladies in town who refused to get a computer for her home. Unfortunately that means each time she visits, you have to walk her through even the most basic elements of using a computer so she can send an email to her granddaughter. The entire time she complains to you about how much she hates computers and how much she wishes her daughter would've raised her own daughter correctly and been happy to just accept a phone call, and on, and on, and on.
"Hello Ruth," you quietly say, customer service smile on. "Let me go ahead and log you in to one of our computers?"
"I'm not an invalid!" she loudly complains. You try to quiet her, pointing to the sleeping children but she isn't having it. "All you youngsters thinking an old lady can't do anything for herself! How dare you imply I can't log on to a computer? I'll do it my own self."
You take a breath to steady yourself before looking over at the little ones. They seem largely undisturbed but, knowing Ruth, they'll be awake sooner rather than later. Sighing you go ahead and get their after nap snacks ready. Just another hour or so until their parents start coming by to pick them up. It doesn't take long before Ruth is yelling at the computer, complaining to you that "it's clearly broken" and "why can't we just write letters" along with her forever complaint of "wouldn't have to do this if she'd just pick up the damn phone!"
The kids start waking up and you quickly have to balance keeping them from being upset by the angry lady while also knowing any attempts to placate the angry lady will be met with more anger. Thankfully the snacks are a good distraction for most.
"Would you like some help on a different computer, Ruth?" you ask through gritted teeth, knowing the answer.
"Oh stop treating me like one of those brats," she snaps back. "What kind of library is this where computers are more important than books? Shouldn't even have these monstrosities here!"
"Excuse me, Ruth, is it? I'm Bucky." You'd been so distracted going between Ruth and the kids you didn't notice the biker had put down his book and walked over.
"Oh don't get me started on you and yours!" Ruth retorts. "Town was so much better before you hooligans came along! Now I can't even call the police to help me out when then those teenagers are loitering in my yard!"
"Well Ruth, let me give you my number so the next time you can call me instead of the police," he offers. You're surprised at how calm he's sounding despite being yelled at.
Ruth huffs, "you no-good-beatniks! How dare you insult me! You should get out of our town and leave us good folk alone!"
The biker, Bucky, smiles, "seems to me 'good folk' don't go harassing people who are just trying to do their job." You have to bite back a laugh at that comment. It's no good riling her up even more.
Ruth storms out, letting you focus on the kids who are looking unsure if they should be upset or not. You give the biker a quick "thank you" before giving the little ones all of your attention. He nods and goes back to his reading.
Soon enough the parents start coming in and picking up their kids. Several of them stick around long enough to check out a book or movie and you have to balance taking care of the remaining children with getting the families out on their way. It's always such an ado that makes you really wish you could hire some extra help. A few parents complain about the snacks you gave their kids and you remind them, yet again, that they are free to donate snacks they consider appropriate. All the while you keep your customer service smile up, despite how much you're internally screaming and crying.
Things finally calm down and you're able to sit and take a breather. You desperately want to quit but this community needs a library, even if the Mayor doesn't think so. And goodness knows they'd never be able to hire anyone else to work these conditions. You look over to where the biker is sitting, still reading. If his gang hadn't shown up, you'd be in a much better position. Maybe even able to take a vacation.
Checking the time you decide to keep your professionalism and head over to the man. "Sir, excuse me?" He looks up at you, bright blue eyes momentarily startled. "Sir, we're going to be closing in about a half hour."
"Oh, yeah, sure thing," he nods as he closes the book. "Also, please call me Bucky."
"Sure thing, Bucky," you nod, too tired to argue.
"Gotta say, you do a lot of work for a librarian."
"What do you mean by that?" You don't hold back the bite in your tone and cross your arms.
He chuckles, "I didn't mean to offend. Just, I thought librarians were just supposed to check out the books, y'know? Maybe answer questions? Didn't expect you to also be a daycare, IT person and all that."
"And that's just the work that you saw," you snap at him.
"Don't you have anyone helping you out?"
"I did, before your gang came along!" You're unable to hold back any longer. "Because of you the Mayor cut my budget! I had to fire pretty much all my staff! I can't get the half the books the people of this community want! I have to beg the state government for funds to make sure kids have food when they don't school meals! Do you know how much cleaning I have to do because there's no room in the budget for professionals?! Do you have any idea how many of the things around here I have to pay for out of my own pocket?! You bikers demanded protection money and it came out of my budget!"
Bucky's gloved hand grabs neck, stopping you from talking. You try to fight but his arm is stronger than expected. Surprisingly he doesn't look angry so much as amused. "You know, I never thought I could go for the librarian type but this fire of yours does something to me." Your nostrils flare and he chuckles. "I've been yelled at twice today, Doll. A man can only take so much."
"I'm sorry," you grumble as best you can.
His hand loosens, "what was that, Doll?"
"I'm sorry," you repeat. "While you are the reason my budget was cut, you're not the one who made the decision. I'm sorry I took my anger and frustration out on you."
"That's more like it," he snickers. He pulls you uncomfortably close to himself. "And I'm more than happy to reward that better behavior." You look at him, confusion written all over your face, as the leather of his glove caresses your cheek. "Like I said, I never thought a librarian would rouse my interest, but you're something else." You roll your eyes and try to pull away, but he isn't having it. His grip tightens around your throat again, even as his smile widens, baring his teeth. "I can be very good to you, Doll, so long as you're good for me."
His implication is clear and you really don't have any options.
"I need to close the library," you grumble.
Bucky removes his hand from around your throat, "good idea. Don't want to get caught now, do we?"
Your body is shaking as you go about the routine for closing the library. Your brain is working overtime to try to figure out some kind of way out of this. Running isn't an option. Even if you made it to your car, where could you go? Calling for help definitely wouldn't do anything. You seriously doubt he would hesitate to make an example of you if you ran.
With the last of the doors locked and the blinds closed you return the biker and almost whimper, "my office?"
"Oh Doll," he cups your chin. "You don't need to be scared of me. I'll be good to you."
"Do...do you...do you have a condom?"
He chuckles, "don't worry, we're not going that far tonight. But I love that you're ready for it."
Without warning he grabs you and pulls you in for a suffocating, forceful kiss. His tongue quickly pushing its way past your lips. Mentally reminding yourself to do what he wants, you open your mouth to give him access and he moans. One of his hands moves down to your breast and you have to will yourself to not flinch away from the touch.
"Take off the cardigan. And the top," he orders.
You back up just a bit so you can oblige. "The bra as well?"
"Nah, that'll be for me to remove." His voice sounds rougher than before and his eyes are definitely darker. He seems amused by the fact that you maintain eye contact while removing your clothes. "You're so pretty when you're defiant," he teases. "But I'm sure I'll have you pleading for more in no time."
Willing your eyes not to roll you instead snipe back, "don't make promises you can't keep. Wouldn't be the first disappointment I've had."
He has the nerve to laugh at that. "I'll make a believer out of you, Doll."
Walking to your office, he sits in your chair, gesturing for you to get on his lap. "Make me think you want this," he commands.
Taking a deep breath, eyes never leaving his, you move to straddle him. He's surprised when you grab the back of his head and turn his face up before shoving your tongue down his throat. He moans in appreciation and his arms wrap around you as he returns your fervor. You bite his lower lip and start grinding against his crotch.
He removes his right glove before undoing your bra faster than you expected. You pull apart from him just long enough to remove the bra and he takes the opportunity to latch himself to your breast. His ungloved hand moves to fondle your other breast while his surprisingly strong left arm holds you up. His ministrations have you gasping as your body instinctively continues to grind against him. His slow, languid movements are in direct contrast to the speed your hips have set and the difference is affecting you.
Suddenly you're on your back on the desk. Bucky had managed to move his left hand to prevent your head from banging on the desk. Your eyes widened from more than just surprise at the realization of how fast and strong he was.
"Sorry, Doll, you were getting me too worked up already," he smirks at you. He moves his hands so they're on each side of your head, hovering over you. "It really is the quiet ones, huh?" You can't help roll your eyes and he chuckles. "Let's see how loud you can get."
He quickly unbuttons your pants and pulls them off of you before getting out a knife. Your breath hitches and he chuckles as he takes the blade to your panties, cutting them off of you. He puts the panties to his nose, "you smell so good. How long's it been, Doll? Months? Can't imagine you get a lotta action in this town."
"It's been a while," you confess, heat burning your cheeks at how turned on you are. You can't bring yourself to look at him.
He stuffs your panties into his pocket and taps your thighs with the knife so you spread them open. "You look so pretty like this," he snickers, clearly amused by your discomfort.
He slams the knife into the desk by your head, making you yelp in surprise. Using his left arm to hover over you, he whispers into your ear, "such a pretty scream," as his fingers start playing with your pussy. He groans at how wet you are, "fuck, Doll, I should'a known you'd be into the rough play."
You squeal as he mercilessly jams two of his fingers into you, all the way to the knuckle. As you involuntarily arch your back he alternates licking, sucking and nibbling your nipples. He adds a third finger and mercilessly drives his hand in and out of your soaked pussy. He pushes himself up and uses his now free arm to start choking you. You try to push his arm away, but it's impossibly strong. You're shocked to feel your orgasm building as your gasping for air.
He must sense it too because he grins and starts ordering you to "give me what I want, Doll. Cum around my fingers. I can feel how close you are." He gives your nipple a sharp bite that pushes you over the edge and cum with a hoarse scream, his fingers never slowing down, his grip never letting up.
It's only after you've stopped cumming that he eases up. "That was fucking gorgeous," he taunts before pulling his fingers out of you and licking them. He closes his eyes and moans at your flavor, making you burn with embarrassment. You start to get up but his left hand keeps you pressed to the desk. "I'm not done, Doll."
"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I shouldn't have assumed."
"God you're a good, smart girl. Keep those legs spread for me." You do as he says while trying to look anywhere but him. He pulls the knife out of your desk and flips it so that the hilt is pointed towards you. "Look at me, Doll. I want you to watch." You struggle to look and he rubs the hilt of the knife against your oversensitive clit, making you jump. "I said, look. At. Me. Doll." You're quick to follow his orders this time.
He puts the knife away before undoing his belt and pants. As much as you could feel when you were grinding against him, as much as you could see the his bulge, you weren't expecting his cock to be so big. Your eyes widen and he chuckles, "like I said, we're not going that far tonight. Now be good and don't move unless I tell you."
Grabbing your legs he pulls you so your ass is a little off the desk and runs his cock over your pussy, gathering up your slick and rubbing over your clit, making you whimper. He starts groaning in pleasure, "god you're so wet from just one orgasm. Can't wait to see how soaked you get after a full night with me." He positions your thighs so that you're squeezing his cock between them and he gives a few thrusts, spreading your own juices all your thighs.
"Gonna mark you up with my cum," he growls as he picks up his pace, squeezing your thighs even tighter. His hands are hurting you but his cock keeps rubbing against your clit and it's feeling so damn good you don't register his words. You moan and whine as you barrel towards your next orgasm. "That's it, Doll. You make the prettiest faces. Can't wait to see you covered in my cum. Gonna look so damn pretty with my seed all over you."
He squeezes your thighs impossibly tight and you cum so hard from the pain and pleasure combination you don't notice him ejaculating all over your stomach and chest.
When he finally catches his breath he reaches into his jacket and pulls out his phone to take a photo. You try to protest but he gives you a warning look. You drop your face, trying to not cry from how dirty you feel. He puts the phone away and lifts your chin, "don't worry, Doll. That photo is just for me." He kisses the top of your head and you try not to wince. "And because you were so good to me, made me feel so good, I'll be good to you. Now get your clothes back on and I'll escort you home."
"Can I clean up?"
"Not until you get home," he growls. "You don't get rid of my marks until I give you permission."
"Yes, Bucky," you sniffle.
"Aw, don't be like that, Doll," he gently chides. "I take care of what's mine."
The next morning you wake up from a nightmare riddled sleep, feeling more tired than ever. After your morning routine you step outside to head to the library but stop short when you see Bucky on his motorcycle, waiting for you. Wordlessly he hands you a helmet and you don't even try to question or talk him out of whatever he has planned, you just put the helmet on and get on the bike behind him, holding him incredibly tight so you don't fall off.
He stops in front of City Hall and helps you off the bike before walking you in. He doesn't stop until he's led you to the Mayor's office. Your shocked to see Cap, the leader of the biker gang, sitting next to Mayor Walker, whose nose has recently been broken. You gasp and try to turn away but Bucky grabs you and keeps you facing the Mayor.
Cap pats Walker's shoulder, "now what did I tell you?"
Walker shudders a little before looking at you and shakily saying, "I'm so sorry for cutting your budget so much. I will amend that today, making sure to take the money out of my own salary."
Your shaking, unable to respond. Bucky whispers into your ear, "what do you say, Doll?"
"Th-thank you, Mayor Walker," you stutter. "I...I really appreciate that you've ch-changed your mind."
"That's my girl," Bucky whispers before guiding you out of the office.
Next Part
Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly
#biker!bucky barnes x librarian!reader#dark!bucky barnes#biker!bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x librarian!reader#dark!bucky barnes x librarian!reader#dark!bucky barnes x female reader
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Nuts - ||k.nj||
Description: how had Namjoon ended up in this situation? What do you mean he had to actually make a connection instead of fucking your brains out?
Genre: Oneshot, Non-idol AU, Rapper!Namjoon x Makeup Artist f!reader, strangers-to-lovers, Too Hot To Handle inspired, SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Hopeful ending.
Warnings: Namjoon is a bit of a player and full of himself, just smut overall with a hopefully balanced plot, eventually he’ll get back in touch with his feelings, this might be the longest oneshot I've written? Oral sex f receiving, fingering f receiving, grinding, slight exhibitionism.
Word Count: 8.5k+
Namjoon thought himself a reasonable person, horny, but reasonable. He never needed to go to extremes to get what he wanted, whether it be an artist he liked to feature on a song, or fuck the sexy girl that kept bringing champagne over to his table at club. She was leaning against the wall of some small maintenance closet, her back was arched as he pounded into her relentlessly.
Once they finished, he could tell she would want more, doing a not so subtle attempt at slipping her phone number into Namjoon’s back pocket. He smirked and walked out after fixing himself up, knowing full well this would be the last time he’d see her, Namjoon never came back for seconds once he had them. It was nothing against the women he slept with, he didn’t used to be this way, but a few instances of heartbreak and a toxic cycle of make up sex can lead one to denounce love all together and give into pure carnal desire.
Such was Namjoon’s case.
When he arrived at his table he noticed his manager, Jin, and his two best friends, Hoseok and Yoongi, did not receive him with the usual knowing smiles, granted, this time he hadn’t waited long to ditch them for some pussy. Namjoon usually gave it about an hour or two into an outing before temporarily or permanently leaving his friends, but he supposed tonight he really needed a quick fix.
“Why do y’all look like you’re mad at me?” he asked, taking a seat and picking at the chips and salsa that had been placed at the center of their table.
The VIP section of the club was nice, it had a great mix of different low and high-grade celebrities, Namjoon liked to think he was making his way up from the low end of the spectrum, now that he’d been picked up a small label and his mixtape would go from SoundCloud to mainstream platforms.
“We’ve barely been here for half an hour, Namjoon-ah,” Jin complained, holding the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, Namjoon just continued to stare at him confused. “Well, it’s not my fault, every time she was serving us drinks her tits were right there, and I don’t know if you noticed but they were beautifully proportioned,” he smiled cheekily.
His friends didn’t reciprocate it.
“The label signed you up for a reality show,” Jin stated bluntly, Namjoon almost thought he heard a record scratch, “why?”
“They think it’s good exposure for you,” the older shrugged, “plus it’s like a retreat, you get to stay in a villa with other people and you play games through the summer to win a cash prize.”
“Will I get to keep the cash prize when I win?” he asked, Yoongi and Hoseok sharing a look of annoyance at their friend’s cockiness.
Namjoon had never really been the cocky type, but once his mixtapes and albums started getting hundreds of thousands of streams, and girls seemed to follow him like bees in search of honey, he’d seemed to have his feet a little too far off the ground, and it got worse once he was signed to the label.
“The label is considering it if you create enough buzz around yourself.”
“Well then, I guess I have my work cut out for me,” he smiled, dimples on full display.
You kept refreshing your email every minute, you needed this opportunity, you needed this. It had been your dream since becoming a makeup artist to open your own salon. You were tired of taking clients in the small living room of your studio apartment.
You had been looking for an investor for months when you finally found one that had been interested in your business. He had arranged an interview with you and had asked for a portfolio of your work, just to see what you offered would be worth what you were asking, everything in the interview suggested it was. You were told to wait about a week for them to get back to you, and now that it had been a couple days after the week mark you were starting to get nervous.
The notification sound of a new email made your heart start to race.
From: Hwang Jongdae
Subject: Investment on 2!3! Beauty Salon
Good morning, miss Yn,
After careful consideration of your proposal, we have unfortunately decided that we will not move forward…
You didn’t need to read the rest of the lengthy email, you slammed your laptop shut, immediately reaching for your phone to call your sister, tears inevitably escaped your eyes as soon as she picked up your call.
“Ynie what’s wrong?” She asked, her face showing immediate concern. You explained the situation to her through sobs and snot.
“I don’t know what to do!”
“You could come out with me and Danbi, we are going to the club tonight, maybe you’ll find some rich drunk guy that will invest in your salon.”
You were apprehensive at first, but in the end here you were, in the middle of a night club making somewhat conversation with some guy who’d long taken off his suit jacket and tie, you weren’t planning on anything, you just wanted to someone to converse with since your sister and her girlfriend had ditched you to go dancing.
It wasn’t your fault you had ended up outside making out. You were just sad and needed some cheering up, making out with a stranger sounded like a quick fix, and maybe you’d get a room somewhere and you could enjoy the brief happiness that came with having a one night stand
“Well, I think, your story could make for great reality TV,” his speech was slightly slurred as he pulled away, a sign that the glass he was somehow still holding was definitely not one of the first ones he’d had tonight, “I’m casting this…um…competition show, you get to spend the summer in a pretty villa with pretty people and play games, you can win a SHIT load of money,” he kept leaning toward you, you had to hold back the urge to puke as his breath reeked of alcohol.
You were interested as soon as he mentioned money, you didn’t care what kind of competition it was, you would do anything to make your dream into reality, even if it meant participating in some stupid TV show and dealing with dumb people.
Namjoon was a bit upset about giving up his phone the night before their first day of shooting, but this retreat was meant to be a place where he could disconnect entirely. Which wasn’t an entirely bad idea, the past few weeks was mainly a lot of paperwork and filming his intro for the show, apparently, he’d be the “first to arrive.”
He was happy to see champagne set up on a hightop table, he served himself a glass and waited, other guys started showing up, and then the girls started showing up as well, and to say he was pleasantly surprised was an understatement, all the women were beautiful and when you walked in?
Namjoon quickly knew that you'd be his target.
He was immediately attracted to you, for a moment he really thought that whoever was up there, if there was anyone, must've put you right there, you were exactly the type he went for when he looked for a quick lay. You were wearing a full body bathing suit, given that the villa was at a beachfront, like shows like these often were. Your hair was down in what he assumed was its natural form, and your make up accentuated your face's features beautifully.
The rest of the girls immediately went to greet you, while the men just stared and spoke amongst themselves about who they liked, it was mostly varied answers. The six girls were the stereotypical body type you’d see in shows like these, although some were definitely on the curvier side, all from different places, the guys were pretty much the same, all well built and mouth-watering.
“Okay so to catch you up to speed…um” one of the girls spoke.
“Yn”
“Right, we have all been scanning the boys and let me tell you, it’s going to be a bloodbath,” she chuckled, as did all the others. She introduced herself as Andrea, and the other girls introduced themselves shortly after.
They walked you over to where the high-tops were, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way the beautiful dragon-eyed man was devouring you with his gaze, and regardless of your small cover-up skirt and your full body bathing suit, you felt very much naked and aroused. If his gaze alone could do that, what could he do to you?. You had no time to calm your racing heart as he approached, his tall frame towered over you.
“Hey,” his voice sounded like honey, “my name is Namjoon, what’s yours?” he wasn’t subtle at all with the way his eyes trailed up and down your body.
“Yn,” you held your hand out to him “nice to meet you Namjoon,” he took it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss, you quickly took your hand away.
“What, you don’t like chivalry?”
“You don’t seem like the type to do it genuinely,” you admitted.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”
Your neck was hurting badly, you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to you, making his stature much more than what you had initially suspected. Namjoon enjoyed the vertical advantage, as it gave him a perfect view to your tits, so beautiful and round, he could feel himself slowly harden, he was ready to tell you to come with him to one of the rooms so you could act upon it, when the host of the show finally showed up.
“Hello guys!” he was a beautiful man as well, did this show only look for good looking people? The producer you’d met said you’d be with pretty people, but this was another level, what a major boost to your ego. “I’m Taehyung, welcome Games in Paradise!” Everyone cheered and clapped as the host gave a pretty boxy smile, “you’ll spend the rest of your summer here, where if you succeed with our challenges, you will win a fantastic prize! Your first challenge will be announced later on by the beach, please explore your home for the next two months and enjoy!” Cheers erupted from the small group again, and everyone dispersed after Taehyung walked away.
And explore you did, the villa was huge, it came fully equipped with everything one could only dream of having. The kitchen was fully stocked with a bunch of fancy appliances for your convenience, the bathrooms were gorgeous and came with both a standing shower and a bathtub, the sleeping area had six queen sized beds and nightstands were full of things to make all the sex everyone was planning on having more enjoyable, from condoms to toys, to lube; a few rooms were locked and you weren’t sure why, but no one really cared, considering everyone starting breaking off into duos and small groups to start enjoying their time there.
(T-4 hours)
Andrea, and yourself were enjoying sun-tanning on the lounge chairs right in front of the pool, your cover-ups long gone as your asses in full display as you laid on your stomach. You were reading a book you had picked out of the villa’s small bookcase, while your newly found friend had her eyes closed.
“So, you and Namjoon huh?” she spoke, you looked up to see her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose as she stared at you suggestively. “He’s hot as fuck, anyone here would stupid not to be turned on by his mere sight,” you shrugged.
“The way he was looking at you I thought he was going to fuck you right then and there!” she giggled. You sighed in response and went back to reading your book, mainly to distract yourself from the godly man you’d met, and the many things you wished he’d do to you, so your wetness wouldn’t ruin your favorite swimsuit.
Namjoon was watching you from far away, two of the guys he’d met on either side of him also watching the girls they so badly wanted. Namjoon would enjoy his time here, whether it was with you, or someone who offered to help with his urges sooner. “Okay,” he stood up from his spot, “y’all can enjoy staring and not touching, I’m going in,” he started walking off when he felt a smack in his ass, surely from Jimin, one of the guys he’d been seating with, and his newest friend.
As he walked down to the lounge chairs he noticed someone else taking your friend away, leaving you alone.
Perfect, no interruptions, he thought.
“Hello again,” greeted you once he was close enough to you, he sat down at the spot your friend was previously laying on, his eyes shamelessly enjoying the view of your ass.
“If we still had our phones I’d tell you to take a picture,” you quipped, Namjoon looked back to your face and found you had been staring at him, he flushed slightly at being caught, but got himself together fairly quickly.
“Can you blame me when you have such a wonderful ass?” he chuckled, his dimples in full display which only made him more attractive in your eyes. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely filled with tension, you took off your sunglasses, a small smirk on your face “I bet you’d love to fuck it wouldn’t you?”
Namjoon wasn’t expecting such a bold response. He choked on his own saliva and got into a coughing fit as he heard you cackle loudly. When it finally subsided, he noticed you’d left, leaving a water bottle at his feet and a note on the lounge chair you had been seated on not so long ago.
Meet me in the sleeping area ;)
(T- 30 minutes)
There truly was no way of explaining your current predicament. How had you ended up like this so quickly? It was truly all a blur.
All you knew was that you were straddling Namjoon, dry-humping his erection over his swimming trunks, and making out ferociously.
Namjoon felt his dick getting impossibly stiff as you rubbed your pussy against it, your moans swallowed by his lips as he put his tongue down your throat. He played with your tits, massaging one of the mounds with one hand and holding your ass with another. “Can I pull down the straps?” he groaned as you moved to kiss him behind his ear and down his sharp jawline; you managed to muster a pathetic ‘mmhmm’ and you felt your nipples brushing against his chest and then being pinched and rolled between Namjoon’s thumb and index finger.
“Your body is so gorgeous,” he complimented before putting the breast he was playing with in his mouth, making you arch your back and moan as he sucked and licked it to his heart’s content. When he released your breast from his mouth he slowly dragged his hand down to your core, expertly moving your swimsuit aside and using his thumb to rub your already sensitive bundle of nerves, “fuck!” you moaned, he then moved his hand so that his thumb continued to rub your clit as he inserted his finger inside of you, “so wet for me,” he added another, “so tight,” and another “can’t wait to fuck this slick, tight pussy until you can’t walk” his fingers curved deliciously against your walls and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening inside you.
“Take off your pants,” you managed to plead.
“Hmm?”
“Take off your pants, please, I want to rid-”
“Hello,” a robotic voice interrupted your pleas, scaring you so badly you almost ended up falling off of Namjoons lap. He gently took his fingers out of you and fixed up your swimsuit just in case someone was about to walk in. “Who the fuck is there?!” Namjoon asked sternly, carefully moving you off his lap.
“My name is Lana,” that’s when you finally noticed the small cone on top of a decorative table. “I hope you are enjoying the retreat, please head down to the palapa, it should be next to the place you arrived at today.”
You and Namjoon stared at each other, having a mental conversation on whether you actually wanted to or not, ultimately going back to making out. Namjoon wanted you so badly, and the stupid Lana robot had definitely not made him any harder, but he was sure he’d be back to it once you guys got back in the mood.
“Hurry up, lovebirds.” Lana’s robotic timbre interrupted them yet again, making you fall backwards on the bed “ugh!” You complained, “Let’s go before she becomes more of a buzz kill.”
You sat next to Namjoon, his arm was around your shoulders. You saw Andrea sitting among some of the girls, one of them in particular, Jihee you thought was her name, was throwing daggers at you with her eyes. All you could do was give her a tight-lipped smile, looking away from her as the small cone that had scared you earlier slowly rose up on a platform in the middle of the table.
“Hello, contestants,” her multicolored light blinked as she spoke, “I have gathered information during this first day of the retreat.” Everyone looked at each other, in a very ‘what the fuck’ kind of way because up until she spoke, you had thought her to be a very fancy diffuser, “it has been most insightful.”
“What the fuck does she mean?” Andrea spoke up.
“The purpose of the retreat is to have you create deep, meaningful, emotional connections, instead of the meaningless flings you’ve all been having.”
“So… have platonic relationships with women?” Jimin looked confused, he didn’t have to wait long for an answer.
“To incentivize you not to do this, I have set the prize money to one-hundred thousand dollars.”
‘Oh my god’s’ were spread out through the group, as they all talked about what that amount of money could do for them, you opened up to Namjoon and Andrea who were the people sitting closest to you, “that money could definitely get me my salon!”
“You’re a hairdresser?” Andrea asked.
“Makeup artist, but I’m planning on having a full service salon,” you smiled sweetly, Namjoon found the sparkle in your eye somewhat endearing when you talked about your dream, but, he couldn’t let himself dwell on it for long, he wanted a good lay, not a deep connection, deep connections had only caused him pain.
“However,” Lana interrupted the group’s chatter, “there are conditions to your stay in order to win the prize,” you hoped the collective complaint wasn’t missed on the small cone, although you were sure it was, it was a robot after all.
“There will be no kissing.”
Your eyes widened, as did most of the groups. “Well, she only said kissing right?” Jihee said.
“No heavy petting.”
“This is fucking stupid,” Daniel, one of the guys Namjoon had been hanging out with spoke.
“No sex of any kind, this includes self-gratification,” the chorus of what’s and no’s that broke out from the group were immediate, and you felt regretful, if you had cut to the chase sooner you could’ve gotten a really good dicking from Namjoon, and now you were all going to be blue balled.
Or were you?
(Day 2)
You woke up the next morning comfy, you and Namjoon decided you would share a bed, and his muscular arms held you tightly, and you felt protected in a way. You hadn’t been one for cuddling in a long time, not since your last relationship almost 4 years ago. It had ended quite tumultuously, especially due to its toxic and suffocating nature. It was mainly why you had one night stands, you didn’t have to cuddle if you didn’t want to, you could just leave right after.
You also didn’t miss Namjoon’s morning wood against your ass, no one was awake yet aside from you, so you decided to be a little risky and pretend like you were adjusting yourself, only to rub up on Namjoon’s dick some more. His grip tightened at your hips, you felt his breath against your ear as he groaned.
“You better stop that, or I’ll fuck you just like this,” he whispered, you could feel yourself getting slick at his words, how badly you wanted him follow through. “Don’t you want the money?” you whispered back, doing your best to hold your moans as he grinded against your ass, “Lana is a dumb fucking robot, how will she know?”
Fuck it.
That’s how you ended up with your shorts and underwear halfway down your legs, and with Namjoon’s fingers deep in your pussy, just like last night. You were biting your pillow and doing your best to hold back your moans. “You ready for me baby?”
Best you could do was reach back and touch him, you wanted to keep quiet just in case someone heard you. He slowly teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, you had yet to see it but when it breached you, you could tell he was thick, and as he slowly fed himself into your pussy, it was ten times harder to stay quiet. Yup. He was definitely big.
He fucked you slowly, and he had to hold himself back as well, your pussy felt so good and it almost felt like you sucked him in deeper with every thrust, he wanted to rail you, to make you scream and moan so that everyone knew just how good he fuck you. “You’re taking my cock so well,” he praised you, causing you to clench harder on him, “if you keep doing that I’m going to cum,” you answered, “why don’t you hmm? Maybe I’ll pump full of my cum too, and make you keep it in so no one knows what we did,” he bit your earlobe and you almost moaned out loud. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your back arched from the pleasure the beautiful man behind you was giving you, it wasn’t long before he came as well, and just like he said, you were filled to the brim.
After your morning shower and getting yourself ready, you were out and about with the girls hanging out in the pool, it was a hot, sunny day, and you were having fun hanging out with the gals.
“Were you okay this morning, Yn? I thought I kept hearing moan?” Jihee asked, making the rest of the girls turn to you. You and Namjoon had agreed to not tell anyone about your little escapade this morning. “I was having a really bad nightmare, I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically.
Jihee didn’t seem to believe you, meanwhile the other girls rushed to ensure you were okay, they kept asking what your nightmare was about, thankfully, before the show you’d have a really bad one, so you used that one for your story, they didn’t know it wasn’t recent. However, you didn’t miss the angry looks from Jihee, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the guys came over to the pool to get you, stating that Lana had called for you all to go to the palapa.
You sat next to Namjoon again, who placed his arm on the armrest behind you. You were staring off, not really setting your eyes on one thing until they landed on his thighs. They were so thick and muscular, you wondered what riding them felt like, perhaps that could be the next thing you and Namjoon sneaked off to do.
“Hello, contestants,” the small cone in the middle of the table spoke, everyone greeted it back. “It has come to my attention someone may have broken the rules,” everyone stared around, except for Namjoon, who was playing with the leftover fabric of the headband you were wearing.
“No one’s done anything Lana,” Jimin stated.
“My cameras picked up movement and audio last night, are you sure?” The girls stared at you so quick you were worried they would break their necks, “Yn? You said you had a bad nightmare last night didn’t you?” Jihee’s voice was laced with cattiness, and you felt a slight tug to your headband.
“My cameras picked Namjoon, speaking also.”
“Her nightmare sounded pretty bad, I was whispering in her ear to calm her down, nothing happened,” the way he lied so effortlessly made you feel weird, and you remembered why you’d been single for so long, you didn’t want to be in another situation where you were gaslighted and lied to.
You were grateful that you had kept your movement so slow and subtle.
“Just a warning, if you are found breaking the rules, depending on what you do, you will lose money.”
All hell broke loose then.
(Day 14)
You had managed to go this far without you or Namjoon making a single sexual move, and it was killing him not being able to plow you like he wanted to. It was good because you weren’t the first to lose the group money, Daniel and Jihee were surprisingly the firsts to do so, Jihee had given head to Daniel twice in one day, losing twelve thousand dollars. Later on, Andrea and Jimin kissed a few times, losing six thousand dollars.
Namjoon thought that building an emotional connection was dumb, he’d done that before, and each time it ended in a heartbreak worse than the last, his most recent relationship being what made him swear off on relationships. The girl he had dated was someone he’d loved, he’d do everything for her, every song was for her, any money made from his music went to both his and her bills, he almost dropped his best friends for her.
And then he found out she’d been cheating on him all along.
It absolutely broke him, he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t good enough, he’d always been a gentleman, he would spoil her, love her, why wasn’t that enough?
He didn’t care anymore, when he had an urge he would go to the clubs, or even after a gig he would pull a fan he found hot and he would fuck them until he was satisfied, leaving shortly after, or if he was craving something more intimate he would cuddle them after for a little while, no deep conversation, no sob stories shared, no number exchange. No strings attached. It was the only way not to get hurt.
You were so nice, such a good fuck. He almost wished you had met a few years before, then again would he have looked your way? He always seemed to be dating women who only wanted him for his money, women who never appreciated the little things. You did. He’d made you coffee this morning, using the keurig in the kitchen because he knew he would burn the villa down if he did it like some of the others were making it. He did it because you had become somewhat friends, sexual tension aside, your conversations were great, even if they were forced at first to distract you both from how badly you wanted the other, maybe he’d leave this with you as a good friend. All the girls cooed at the nice gesture, and Namjoon visibly cringed “it’s just fucking coffee it doesn’t mean anything.”
Oh, how those words hurt you.
You had unfortunately developed a crush for the rapper. He was so incredibly smart, he had such wisdom and insight, and his face card was crazy. You had felt horny the first few days, after your small rendezvous, but that subsided once you had more and more conversations, you really like his brain. However, how you felt didn’t matter, he didn’t want you like that, you were someone he fucked once and that he wants to fuck again, nothing more, nothing less. So, maybe it was a good thing that new players came into the scene.
Lana announced them, and it wasn’t long before you spotted them walking down the beach, two men. Both men were absolutely ripped, one of them had a full sleeve and piercings, making you salivate at the sight, the other didn’t have any tattoos, but he had a somewhat big nose and a beautiful smile. When they arrived they quickly introduced themselves as Christopher and Jungkook. The latter seemed to have immediately set an eye on you as he immediately started conversing with you and tried to get to know you better. You and the others had to explain the rules to the newcomers, they weren’t exactly thrilled, but they got over somewhat quickly.
“Ynie, do you want to go talk somewhere else alone?” the doe-eyed man asked, and how could you say no to that pretty smirk. Namjoon didn’t really like it as he saw you walk away with the younger man.
“You can’t talk to her the way you did this morning and expect her not to move on,” Andrea spoke, Jimin giggled next to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t care,” he clarified, making your friend roll her eyes.
“Attention, contestants,” Lana’s voice broke through the various conversations, “there will be a special event happening near the garden tomorrow, please go there in the morning.”
“What’s in it for us anyway?” Chris spoke up.
“The person who shows the most progress and success will win a date with a person of their choosing,” now that changes things.
(Day 15)
Without words. That’s what the workshop was called.
Lana had paired all of you up, and you had ended up being paired with Jungkook, whilst Namjoon was paired with Jihee. Namjoon wasn’t one to be possessive of the people he fucked, but it wasn’t that he fucked you before, you were his friend, and Jungkook seemed like he was up to no good, what with the big deceitful doe eyes.
You were excited though, it was a fresh start for you, maybe Jungkook will be able to give you that deep emotional connection you were supposed to look for. You hadn’t wanted it at first, but your growing feelings for Namjoon along with all the workshops you had done so far helped you realize that. This one in particular had two stages, the first one was picking up on your partner’s body language. You had to go for a hug with Jungkook showing a specific emotion, and he would have to guess it later, that emotion was excitement.
Once Lana gave you the go, you ran toward the pretty man and hopped on him, wrapping your legs around him. He quickly caught you, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to hold one of your legs up, you both were so giggly, and everyone in the group could tell you were enjoying each other’s company. Namjoon was hugging Jihee but he wasn’t putting that much effort in it, he was watching you and Jungkook, and the stupid shit eating grin he had whilst you hugged. How badly he wanted to be the one you had your legs wrapped around, he was getting a little upset at how long you were hugging this newcomer for, considering everyone had stopped except for you two.
“We don’t have all day!” Namjoon remarked, his tone was bitter. You didn’t realize you had embraced Jungkook for so long, you had connected a lot during his first day, you talked until the high hours of the night, so you felt good with him, it was easy. You let go and walked back, whispering I’m sorry’s to the group for the hold up. “The next stage is soul gazing, you will stare at your partner in silence, it encourages you to see and connect with your partner on a deeper emotional level,” Lana said.
The silence of everyone was quite comfortable, and watching Jungkook you felt such warmth and kindness emanating from him, and you also saw him tear up a bit. “You have a beautiful soul Ynie,” he admitted, and like the Grinch, you felt your heart grow three sizes from those words. Namjoon, however, was seething, who the hell is guy anyway, why is he making you swoon all the sudden? It was bullshit, absolute bullshit. After the workshop was finally over, Lana announced the winner, you.
“Yn, who do you choose to go on this date with,” the little cone asked, and everyone’s eyes were on you. The expectations were skewed, some were expecting you to pick Namjoon, and some were expecting you to pick Jungkook based on the past two days alone.
“Jungkook,” he had the prettiest smile, “wanna go on this date with me?”
“Yes!” He was very enthusiastic, giving you a quick side hug, the girls rushed to your side to help you get ready.
Namjoon was with the guys as they all watched Jungkook getting ready, he wasn’t very excited about the prospect of you going on a date with someone, he wanted you all for himself to enjoy and he couldn’t have that if you went with Jungkook. He heard Jimin giggling, noticing he’d been staring at him this whole time. “What?”
“Good thing you don’t have laser vision, poor Jungkookie would be dead if you did,” he continued to chuckle.
“I’m not even looking at him.”
“Give me a fucking break hyung, it’s obvious you are jealous of the guy, I mean just today’s workshop alone shows that,” Jimin explained, “if you like Yn you should shoot your shot.”
Did Namjoon like you? I mean he was definitely not repulsed by you, you were a smart, pretty girl. But how would he know you wouldn't use him? Sure you didn't seem like you would but what about when you were out in the real world?
“I'll be back,” Jungkook had a big grin on his face, “wish me luck!”
As Namjoon watched the youngest out of the men walk out, he decided he would get dressed himself, and get his frustration out with the punching bag at their designated workout area. Watching as he met you at the door to the villa. You were wearing a simple gray summer dress and it complimented your skin tone beautifully.
Jungkook was a little confused on why Namjoon was so adamantly upset at him, but he couldn’t worry about him right now, not when he was so excited to see you. You were incredibly nice to him when he arrived, and your conversation had been so wonderful when he’d pulled you aside. You talked about so many things, where you were from, what you did for work, what your goals were.
“I’m a tattoo artist! I’ve drawn most of the pieces I’ve gotten done,” he took off the shirt he was wearing, the white tank top underneath being the only thing keeping you from seeing his abs. His sleeve was beautiful, so incredibly colorful and full of life, he explained most of his tattoos, including the ones that were meant as cover-ups for others. Your eyes got lost in the way his muscles flexed as they trailed up his arm, eventually your gaze ended up meeting his.
He had stars in his eyes, and his smile seemed so incredibly genuine, he cocked his head to the side as he stared at you, “can I ask you something?” you nodded, “do you and Namjoon hyung have something going on? I don’t want to move forward with pursuing you if you are not available,” the question left you a bit stunned and you thought it through before deciding to trust Jungkook with the truth.
“We’ve had some serious sexual tension since we got here,” you admitted, “no one knows this but we actually fucked on our second night here,” the pretty man in front of you deflated a bit, and then it seemed to hit him, “so, not even the weird cone thing knows?”
“I mean she probably knows now,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Anyway, after that we agreed not to tell anyone, and we started building a friendship, I started sort of catching feelings, and I thought he was too, he would do little nice things for me, and then say something mean after,” you sighed, “so I’m not sure about him as person.”
Jungkook was a great listener, he stayed quiet and gave you his undivided attention the entire time you were talking, and now he sat pensive, looking up at the stars as he tried to come up with something to tell you, “I think you are really cool, Yn, and I think you deserve someone who will want you in every way, not just because you’re stunning” you blushed slightly at his words, “I would love to get to know you better and explore something with you, but if you want Namjoon that badly, then I don’t want to get hurt, going after girls who are emotionally unavailable or attached to someone else is exactly why I’ve become a man whore.”
You were shocked at his candor and honesty, but it endeared you to him and made you envy him. Why couldn’t you have your shit together? Why were your boundaries so unclear? Worst of all, a pretty guy who had treated you with nothing but respect wanted you… but your feelings for Namjoon were more, from the small coffee offering to conversations he would have with you about books you both had read, to deep conversations about each other’s life.
“You are a good person Jungkook.”
“But I’m not the kind of person you want.” You gave him a saddened smile, “I’m fine with being your friend Ynie, you are a good person too, and in time Namjoon will realize it too,” the night continued on with so much laughter, Jungkook felt like a long lost friend, and you were happy that life had brought him to you.
Namjoon was not happy. The people in the villa watched as he beat the absolute shit out of the punching bag in front of him, his jaw was clenched, and his mind was playing all the possibilities of what may happen on your date with Jungkook.
Did you do any of the things you'd done with him? Did you kiss him? Did you like him? Will you come back with a stronger connection and leave him to rot?
If you did he wouldn't blame you, he deserves every one of those things, especially after the way he'd treated you, all hot and cold. It truly isn't his fault, so many strings of wrong relationships, with the last one being a constant cycle of toxicity and gaslighting, which Namjoon can now admit he was a part of. Him and his last partner weren't good for each other, but they loved each other so intensely they didn't want to let go.
Love hard, hurt harder, you know?
He heard your unmistakable laughter along with his, and he started punching his bag harder. How long had he been standing here punching this poor bag? He didn't care, currently he was imagining Jungkook’s head on a stake.
“Namjoon?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he turned his gaze toward, whilst still in a punching stance, “can we talk?” Namjoon straightened up at that. He kinda liked the way you were checking how sweaty his body was, he didn't like your sudden frown however.
“Your knuckles are bleeding.”
Were they? Surely he wasn't punching the bag that long that hard. But when he pulled up his hands to look at the damage he couldn't help but cackle.
“I guess they are.”
“Why don't you go take care of them and then we can talk, hmm?” You gave him a tight, close-lipped smile.
Fuck no.
There was no way he was letting you leave after you were the reason he'd been punching this bag, not when he'd spent the last however long wondering, overthinking, what you and Jungkook would possibly be doing. There was simply no way. It was almost a reflex the way his hand wrapped around your wrist, you barely had time to look at him before he pulled you away to a secluded corner of the villa, cornering you against the wall with both of his arms caging you in, droplets of sweat all over his body.
It was crazy, the way your body seemed to respond so quickly to him, he heard the small whimper, and saw how you put your legs together, and fuck sake the way you were looking at him was like you were begging him to…
He wanted to do this right though. He moved away slightly, giving you some space to breathe, “what'd you wanna talk about Yn?”
“My date with Jungkook went well,” okay maybe not what he was expecting.
“Good for you?”
“I think we'll be great friends, him and I,” Namjoon suddenly felt himself taking a deep breath of relief. “Really?” The space he'd given you was gone again.
He hoped you could see just how affected he also was by you, how his own dick was stirring, having your body so close, having you so close. You must’ve sat there staring at each other for a few minutes, Namjoon’s gaze going back and forth between your lips and your eyes, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do to you, with you. He leaned in slowly, your height difference making him bend down slightly, your eyes fluttered shut and he stopped just close enough that your noses were brushing together, you were so beautiful. Before you could ask him what was taking him so long he connected your lips in a delicious, passionate kiss, your tongues explored each other’s mouths and your hands held onto his shoulders.
Namjoon was the first to pull away, only to move his kisses down to your jaw and eventually your neck, causing you to let out little moans, they were the prettiest sound to Namjoon. He found himself reaching for the shorts you had worn under your gray dress, “may I take these off?” he asked, his eyes hooded and filled with want, all you could do was let out a pathetically high-pitched ‘yes’. He hooked his thumbs at the waistband, dragging your underwear down with it, he watched them pool at your feet and then knelt down, “is this okay?” you felt his breath against your center, making you squirm slightly.
“Yes.”
He dove right in, licking the length of your slit, groaning at how aroused you were and he had barely done anything to you. He moved on to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking gently, causing your moans to become slightly louder, “you gotta keep quiet for me baby,” he instructed you when he briefly pulled away to catch his breath, the sight of the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness making you almost want to orgasm right then. He started eating you out again, this time adding his fingers to the mix, and you had to cover your mouth to make sure your moans wouldn’t be heard all over the villa. You felt yourself closer and closer to your climax and Namjoon could too, your walls squeezed his fingers tightly almost as if wanting to keep them prisoner, and he wanted nothing more than to replace them with his cock, especially because it was so painfully hard. You wanted that too, you wanted nothing more than for this to go all the way, but you felt that in order for what you wanted to work, things had to be different.
“Namjoon, stop” he immediately moved away from you, gently removing his fingers. You took a moment to catch your breath, as he slowly pulled up your shorts and underwear and fixed your dress for you, “did I hurt you?” he asked, holding your hips, looking genuinely concerned at your sudden request. He had an almost boyish charm when this side of him was shown to you, so sweet, so gentleman-like, why would he not be like this always?
“No, I just,” you sighed, putting your hands on his chest, “I like you Namjoon, I would like for us to try and get to know each other, for us to get the chance to see if this could go anywhere, but I’m not sure if that’s what you want, and I need to know, because I don’t want to be pining for someone that just wants me for sex.”
Your confession surprised him, he hadn’t thought that all your conversations and your sexual tension would lead to anything more than maybe a friends with benefits kind of situation. However, considering how he's been reacting to the possibility of you and Jungkook together, maybe he did want to explore more.
“I'd love to get to know you more Ynie,” he flashed his dimpled smile at you, and you felt your heart fluttering. Jumping into his arms for a hug in which Namjoon made sure to hold you extra tight. Maybe this was the beginning of his healing.
(Day 27)
The rest of the stay at the villa was great for you two, Namjoon was so very thoughtful, he made you fresh coffee every morning, and you guys had a reading date every afternoon, where you shared the big love seat by the pool, laying back on his chest as he held whatever book you were reading in front of both of you.
People weren't too happy once Lana deducted the money for your offense after your date with Jungkook, and they were even more distraught when they found out what shenanigans you'd been up to on your second night there, you had lost them so much money the price money was down to forty-five thousand dollars. Jihee almost jumped you, thankfully Jungkook was there to hold her back. Speaking of, you ended up having another girl show up, a sweet blonde named Maddie who immediately caught Jungkook’s attention. It was great seeing your friend happy. You guys would have chats by the pool when you got a chance and update each other on the happenings of your relationships.
Lana had also been a bit more liberal by giving you all bracelets, when they lit up you’d be allowed to kiss the other person, this would only happen if your emotional connection had been proven to strong and genuine.
Although you and Namjoon were still very much in the eyes of everyone, “getting to know each other,” that would all change three days before you left the villa. You honestly had no clue when he had the time, but when Lana announced you were going on a date with Namjoon, everyone seemed to be beaming at the idea. He told you to dress nice. So you opted for a two-piece white set, with a loose halter top, white loose shorts, and wedges. Turns out you were going on a boat ride.
“Oh my god Joon,” you beamed as he helped you sit down at the front of the boat, where an assortment of sushi was waiting for you. You sailed along, enjoying the sun on your skin, and the beautiful man that kept feeding you sushi, especially since even if he tried to show you how to use chopsticks you still couldn’t keep the sushi in your grasp for long. You talked some more about life, and you ended up opening up to one another.
“My last relationship was like, three years ago,” he started, “she basically only wanted me for my money, but I didn’t really notice, I just wanted to love and be loved, and I thought that I was being good, I spoiled her, gave her everything and she still cheated on me, so I swore off relationships and became a man-whore,” he chuckled bitterly. “My last relationship was four years ago, it was very toxic, he basically made me feel bad for not always wanting to be on his dick, or because I spent time with my friends and not him, he went around telling everyone our business but always left out how awful he was to me.” You had been staring at the horizon, the sun slowly setting bringing golden hour to you.
“Eventually when we broke up, he tried getting back together with me, and when I said no, he started shit-talking my friends and myself, and all I could do was watch as they got tired of dealing with me and my drama, so now I only had my sister to rely on,” you felt Namjoon’s hand on your cheek, he watched with sorrowful expression, “you were crying.”
“I swore off relationships after that too, I have never felt more alone than during that time, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.”
“I know at first I didn’t do the best job at not making you feel that way, but I hope I can help you feel less lonely,” Namjoon said, still caressing your cheeks, you felt your wrist vibrate, seeing the big green checkmark on your watch, Namjoon had the same. You were ready to lean in to kiss him, but he stopped you.
“Before we kiss,” he started, “getting to know you has been amazing, I find myself learning some much about myself and slowly coming back to who I was before all the bullshit. I want us to be real, I want to go back to the real world and make it work with you, would you be my girlfriend Ynie?” Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling, you never really thought of yourself getting back into a relationship, you had sworn you were too damaged for something like that, but maybe this was the start to your healing. “I want to make it work in the real world too, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” his dimpled smile gave you butterflies, and as his other hand reached your cheek to fully cup your face, he closed the space between you with a kiss that had been different from the ones before, the others were hungry, desperate, and horny, this one was slow, passionate, and breath-taking. You felt your wrist vibrate again, making you pull away much to your dismay.
“I’m excited for the outside world together,” his gaze was sweet and soft, something you had never seen. He laid back, opening his arms up so you could cuddle.
“Me too,” you smiled, quickly moving your picnic stuff out of the way and scooting over, you laid your head on his chest, you heard his heart beating so fast and so loud, “your heart is about to beat out of your chest,” you giggled.
“I was so fucking nervous,” you looked up at him, “but I am happy I think, hopefully we’ll make it through.”
Fingers crossed.
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HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU
a/n: eddie alden has lived in my head rent free for so fucking long. ever since i saw someone like you i was done for. actually in the first five minutes i was done for. this is a labor of love. something i have spent so long writing and editing because i needed to put this somewhere. it's the longest one shot i've ever written and i am so terrified to share it. i hope you love it as much as i do.
summary: being best friends with eddie alden proved a challenge. you knew him at twelve when he'd push you down for fun. you knew him at sixteen when his parents divorced. you knew him at twenty-two fresh out of college and ready to live his life. and you knew him now. yet the version of him that still remained was the one who loved you - hopelessly, endlessly, and entirely devoted to...you.
word count: 26k
pairing: eddie alden x f!reader
warnings: childhood best friends to lovers trope, oblivious reader + obvious eddie, jealousy, possessiveness, arguments, flirting, cussing, teasing, yearning, love confessions, he's in love and it's detrimental to his health, cigarettes & alcohol, p in v sex, masturbation, smutty books, feral eddie, oral (f receiving), cumplay, desperate sex, reverence, hand holding, the nostalgia vibes of a 2000s romcom.
PLAYLIST
New York’s winter left a taste in your mouth that always reminded you of childhood memories you'd never get back. The biting cold stung your nose until it dripped—your fingers numb as you clutched the cigarette between your index and middle, smoke trailing to the cloudy sky.
An ugly brown suitcase that passed from your father, brother, and eventually you sat by your feet. The bottom no doubt soaked through from the puddle of half melted snow. The temptation to get a taxi and meet him there nearly made your choice for you. Seeing as how standing in the fucking outdoors was your only other option. But the argument over the phone left you relenting within seconds—his voice eager and older.
You scrubbed your hands together for some warmth, lips burning on the but of your cigarette, as yet another round of cars passed you by. Soon enough you'd get to chew him out for making you wait. You'd pull out every guilt trip proven to work on him in the past, and get him to agree to some outrageous ask. That's how things went with you and Eddie.
He fucked up in some way or another. Begged for forgiveness with late night food and a soft smile. And like a fool you forgave him...every time.
"C'mon Eddie what the fuck," you muttered, wiping your nose with the end of your sleeve. You were pretty sure you'd freeze to death in another five minutes, and all Eddie would be left with was your corpse proudly presenting a middle finger.
A horn blared beside you bursting your eardrums. Counting down from five under your breath, you eyed the corner of the building, expecting to see a familiar mop of brown hair. When nothing happened you grabbed the handle of your shitty suitcase and began to walk. He'd reluctantly given you the apartment number and address halfway through the call in case something came up.
Something must have come up.
With a huff, you hauled your suitcase up to rest against your hip, the cigarette burned out and crushed beneath the toe of your boot. Waiting felt like a waste of fucking time. When you could instead be inside of his place already, thawing with a steaming mug of the shitty burnt coffee he made with pride.
No matter how many times you offered to teach him—rectify the recipe that shouldn't be ingested by humans—he claimed you drank it. Clearly that meant you loved it. There was no other reason for why you took his coffee with a smile and gulped at it like you'd just paid twelve dollars and all the change in your pocket.
Even after all this time...he still never saw it. The gleam in your eyes as you watched him make it. The ache in your heart that formed when he set it in front of you with a smile. The butterflies you learned to ignore when you thanked him for something so simple. A single slice of the domesticity you would never get with him.
People shoved you to the side as you walked. Doing what you could to refrain from slipping on the icy bits of the sidewalk. Taking a cab was out of the question with what little cash you had stuffed in your wallet. Your boss decided to withhold your paycheck for the second time—claiming you should have come in to collect it.
The temptation to scream at him in person left the second you realized the money wouldn't even cover the rent next month. So like an idiot...you booked a flight to New York (much to Eddie's delight) and packed a bag large enough to stuff two weeks worth of clothes in it. He believed it was his incessant nagging that finally got you here; you didn't have the heart to tell him that you held no other option.
"Watch it," you snapped at a man who's coat probably cost more than your grandmother's gold ring you wore around your neck.
He scoffed, turning back to the conversation he was invested in on his phone. Getting into a fight wasn't exactly a part of the plan. But the anger began to eat away at your heart—gnawing at your patience the longer you were here. Wandering the city streets. Alone.
"Now that's not the Kit I know."
You whipped around, eyes wide and hair upright on the back of your neck as Eddie's broad smile came into view. The leather jacket he wore complimented his tall figure; the once skinny shoulders you remembered now a broad form you certainly didn't expect. Pictures crinkled by the mail didn’t do him justice. Yet the hazel eyes you knew sparkled with a joy that still managed to entrance you in a single glance.
It felt pathetic how quick you turned into a simpering girl in his presence. Still the eleven year old kid he used to push into muddy puddles because it made him laugh. Somehow that made heat spill into your cheeks—a flustered expression flashing across your face.
He squinted, hands on his hips, as he bent down slightly to push his face directly in front of yours. "What'd you do with her? My little kitten?"
"Fuck off Eddie," you scoffed, shoving at his shoulders.
The suitcase slipped from your hands, dropping to the floor. Eddie didn't waste a second before he was scooping up the handle in his large hand, his arm slinging around your shoulder as he dragged you across the traffic infested street. You squeaked at the horns that went off when you sped in front of them; a multitude of cuss words shouted into the cold air.
"I thought I told you to wait at the airport entrance?" The warmth of his body soaked into your frigid form, loosening your limbs slightly. You'd never experienced such bliss.
"You took too long, asshole."
He laughed—loud and boisterous and perfectly Eddie. "Well forgive me for making an effort to try and get you breakfast. The line was so fuckin' long I had to forgo your coffee."
"Shame." Unconsciously you leaned into his hold as you walked down a street covered in barren trees. "Guess you'll have to make me some."
"You always say you hate my coffee Kit."
"I don't hate it."
"You're a fuckin' liar." Yet he still smiled, his face tilting to see the little furrow of your brows as the cold air began to sting your nose.
You rubbed at it, hoping to alleviate the sensation. "It's just always so burnt Eddie. I never got that. Even when I bought you that fancy coffee maker for your twentieth birthday!"
"Hey!" Shoving you closer as a couple walked past, you did what you could to not stumble. "I never said I put coffee making on my resume. So really it's your fault for making assumptions."
"My–" you spluttered. "Oh fuck off Alden!"
He laughed and you felt the sound shoot through your body like the trigger of a gun finally being pulled. Phone conversations did nothing to appease the longing you felt in his absence. There'd been an Eddie shaped hole in your life for years. Now suddenly you were at a loss with what to do once it was filled. You chastised yourself for pining over a man who would never see you as anything but a friend. Yet somehow...he never knew.
Even through highschool and all your blatantly obvious reactions to how he affected you, Eddie Alden remained entirely oblivious to how much you truly loved him. How your heart screamed for him each morning and night. He was the balm to every wound that ailed you—yet you were only gifted with its comfort every few years.
"My place is one block over, but we could grab some food if you're hungry." His voice ripped you from the depths of your mind, shoving you back into the present.
Where you were pressed against his side by an arm that felt stronger than you remembered. You glanced at him, tracing the curve of his side profile before you realized you eventually had to respond. None of this helped the preexisting crush you spent years trying to get rid of.
Whatever feelings you believed to be evicted from your heart came tumbling back with a fury—a vengeance you'd never experienced before.
"Kit?"
You jumped, catching his gaze; to realize you'd been staring at his lips for far too long. "Your place. I'm fucking freezing out here. Could do with some blankets."
His grin deepened. "Blankets I've got. And a bed. Well a separate bed. Had it put in the guest room for when I managed to finally get you here."
Surprise filled your system—eyes wide and mouth parted. "You bought me a bed?" you exclaimed.
"Nah. I bought a bed."
"Right. Sure." He pinched your arm, chuckling at your pained yelp. The hit you landed to his stomach in a feeble attempt at backlash only seemed to make him laugh harder.
Fuck. You missed him.
A horn blared behind you, slicing through your nerves as he weaved the both of you seamlessly through the crowds of people. New York was far louder than you expected it would be. Sure, you'd heard the noises while on the phone with Eddie, but this felt twenty times that. You were surprised that he got any sleep in this place; though knowing him...he rarely slept if the slight dark shadow under his eyes was anything to go by.
He spent days running around at his job, nights chasing the tail of someone pretty, and what time he could spare talking to you. Giving you the dirty details on people he came across, drama with his coworkers. Every little aspect of New York he could shove your way—knowing how much you longed to get away. How your heart ached with the thought of traveling to distant lands.
He bought you the maps hanging on your apartment wall back home; a celebratory graduation gift when you finally managed to accomplish getting your masters. Back then he thought you'd join him out here.
Or perhaps he was merely holding that hope like an oblivious idiot; his mind fixed on the idea of you here for longer than a visit.
Although you could say the same for yourself. The belief that your life would start somewhere other than at Eddie's side began to fester in your heart, becoming a wound you could never heal. Merely a twisted game you played with yourself. The constant push of wanting more when a part of you knew he would never see you that way.
No matter how many times you pushed...he'd never tell you about them. The women that twisted his head around; the ones that brought a familiar flicker of bitter heat to your chest.
Eddie wasn't yours.
You knew this.
You accepted the truth halfway through high school when you stumbled across him with his tongue down a cheerleader's throat. The lingering pain thickened the longer you spent in his warm charismatic presence—like a knife suddenly protruding from your chest. But much to your own detriment...it was your own knife. Not his.
So you swallowed the brief seconds of jealousy, your body leaning into him with a heavy exhale of winter air. If he noticed your split second mental battle, he didn't say anything. You supposed that's what you loved about Eddie. He understood your cues faster than you did—giving you the room to breathe, to garner enough sanity to push through whatever hell you created in your own mind.
He let you anchor yourself to him, willing to drag you out of the well you dropped yourself in whenever you needed a helping hand.
"So I have a proposition," he exclaimed, tugging you across the street to a building that looked eerily familiar.
"I might have an answer."
He snorted, rummaging in his pocket for the jingling keys that were pressed to your side. "There's a bar on the bottom floor of my place that has shitty beer and shittier nachos."
You smiled, wide and stupid and hopelessly head over heels in love with your best friend. This trip would no doubt come back to bite you in the ass eventually. You practically felt the sharp teeth of reality begin to sink into your heart. Ready to rip you open with jaws coated in your own blood.
Really this was your fucking mistake; letting your best friend talk you into this with the claim: 'You're gonna have the best fuckin' time Kit.'
You followed him through the bulky metal door. "I'm listening."
"I know how much you love shitty nachos." The stairwell echoed with your footsteps—a drip from a leaky pipe splashing every few seconds. "It's not much, but I figure it'll get you acquainted with this grand old city."
Saying no to him felt as if you were pulling teeth, but the fatigue from your flight was beginning to weigh heavy on your shoulders. While traversing the city at night with Eddie sounded like a dream come true. You knew that if you didn't get some rest you'd be kicking yourself tomorrow.
"Tomorrow night," you requested, lugging your bag over your shoulder as he fumbled with the door to his apartment. "I'm ready to keel over and die."
He smiled, letting you wander in before him. Eddie trailed after you, watching in rapture as your eyes went wide with awe at the sheer size of his place. Large windows allowed sunlight to spill into the living room, casting a soft yellow glow throughout the kitchen. Ethereal in its simplicity.
You could practically see the spots where he spoke to you on the phone; the echo of him rummaging in his own fridge now put into perspective with the sight of it. How he would smoke on his fire escape during the summer months when the air finally turned crisp with the promise of fall. How he'd lay on his couch, television blaring as you both watched the same channel.
"Ya like it?" he asked, dropping his jacket on the back of the couch.
"Eddie it's..."
"Massive?"
You turned, sunlight forming an angelic silhouette behind your head and Eddie felt the breath get punched from his lungs. Suddenly he wished he wasn't such a shit artist. That dream was discarded long ago in an art class he would later fail. He longed for charcoal, paints, paper, anything to commit your beauty to a canvas. To hang it in his home as a permanent art fixture—a glimpse at what heaven must look like.
"It's beautiful," you gushed, your smile dazzling in the late afternoon sun.
So are you.
He'd never say it out loud, entirely aware of what you'd say—play it off as a joke, pretend he was teasing you—but the fist around his heart squeezed until he couldn't deny the truth. Mentally he cussed out your future lover. Too ashamed to admit that if you kissed him right now, he'd buy a damn wedding ring tomorrow.
"Bathroom is small enough to drive you a bit insane," he said instead, shoving the thoughts in their respective boxes and throwing away the key. "My room. You're always welcome. And this–" He pushed open the guest bedroom. A fancy duvet and collection of pillows was placed neatly on the queen mattress; frames were propped on the empty dresser—images of you and Eddie throughout the years. "Will be your room."
Stepping into the space felt like taking a breath of familiar air—your heart fluttering at the care he took before allowing you here. It reminded you of all the times he put you before anything else in his life. His fierce protective nature that was always placed upon your shoulders. How he claimed you the second he locked eyes on your timid form.
"Homecoming?" You gestured to the largest frame on the nightstand.
Eddie in a red football jersey, his face painted in white streaks, sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead. He held you beside him—helmet in his hand and a smile big enough to blind half the girls in your school on his face. You could recall that day with vivid clarity. The butterflies you felt at seeing him so happy, so carefree.
Your childhood was filled with memories both good and bad. But Eddie somehow managed to solidify himself in those tinged in warmth and overflowing with a wonder that left you breathless.
"It's a good picture," he replied, running his hand along the back of his neck, cheeks flushed a light rose. "My mom sent it to me a year ago. Said I'd take better care of it."
You smiled, tracing the corner of the brown frame. "Seems like she was right."
"Yeah..." His eyes followed the curve of your hips, pausing briefly on the shape of your ass in jeans he knew you only wore for special occasions.
His favorite jeans if memory served.
The same denim fabric he imagined peeling off you in senior year of college when you showed up with a bottle of wine and the promise of a week spent by the beach. They were in second place, right next to your little red bathing suit that had him fucking his fist for hours in your shared hotel shower. Shame might have burned in his chest at the memory, but Eddie couldn’t help himself when it came to you.
Insatiable, needy. Every fucking synonym in the book would classify how he felt around you.
"So Alden." Your voice dragged him out of his lust addled stupor, heat curling around the base of his spine. He swallowed thickly, forcing it down until he felt comfortable meeting your gaze again.
His eyebrow curved. "Kit?"
"What fun activities do you have planned for me tonight?"
He choked on his spit. "W-What do you mean?"
"Movies? Dinner? Anything?"
"Right."
Trailing to the kitchen with you hot on his heels, he rummaged in the take out drawer full of old menus that needed replacements eventually. Pages were stained, ripped, and crumpled from years of use. You snatched the only pizza place one out of his grasp, eyes flicking through the selections with a grin. Predictable. He could have ordered blindly for you if he'd have known your tastes were the same.
"Lemme guess–"
"Pepperoni–" you began.
"With sausage and jalapeños," he finished.
"Fuck off Eddie."
He smiled, confident enough to have your mind falter on anything except the man before you. How did he do that? Render you a bumbling fool who could barely put the correct words in order to form a complete sentence. One day you might have to ask if that was just his Eddie charm, or if it only worked on you in particular.
"I would. But it's my place kitten." Dialing the number he knew by heart, he left you to wander spots in the apartment that hadn't been on his grand tour.
A corner table held a photo of Eddie's mother, his father nowhere to be seen in the background. You didn't blame him for avoiding the man entirely. After what occurred you were surprised that Eddie hadn't killed him; although he once came close at nineteen. The night his mother spilled the truth over one too many glasses of sherry.
The night Eddie figured out the man he once looked up to had a different family in an entirely different state.
If you trailed your fingers down the back of his neck you'd find the spot where his father slammed him into the banister of their front staircase. The fight bordered on brutal. A viscous act that left what relationship remained tattered and torn to shreds on the floor around them. Both men landed hits with no true aim, teeth bared and seeking blood through the red haze of their anger.
Eddie wanted revenge. His father wanted submission.
They'd always stood on thin ice ready to crack beneath the weight of their baggage. A horrendous cycle of push and pull—each one aware of how to tear the other down with ease. Their bond was built on torment. And to watch the tension explode, drowning them both beneath the glacial waters, left you stuck in a dark chasm of helplessness.
Stupidly you got a scar to match when you threw yourself in front of a near unconscious Eddie, attempting to stop the man from landing a final punch to his son's face. He hit you instead. The scar on your shoulder was small, barely there, but you could still feel Eddie's lips on it when he cleaned the wound. Apologies spilling from his lips until he fell asleep in your bed.
But you supposed that was Eddie. A protector above all else.
The man who would throw himself into the heat of battle before considering the consequences that came with a choice that reckless.
"They'll be here in twenty minutes." He crept up behind you, glancing at the photo of him on his Mom's birthday. "Thinking about that night?"
You jumped, glancing at him over your shoulder. "Yeah."
"Hard not to."
"Has he ever..."
"No." The darkened shadow across his face gave you enough of a response. It was time to move onto a different subject.
"So..." You settled on his couch with a heavy sigh. "Your work."
Dragging the throw blanket his mother knit him over your legs, he clambered onto the empty space beside you. The heater was slowly sputtering to life—radiator giving it all it had to keep the both of you warm. But beside him you felt the heat practically emanate off his body in waves.
What you wouldn't give to curl into his lap and seek it from the source.
"The drama has been exquisite," he stated, draping his arm on the top of the couch behind your head. "You remember me tellin' you about Jane?"
"Goodall?"
"The very one." He settled further into the cushions, legs spread beneath the blanket until he nudged yours. "She and Ray broke up. It's been hell in the office dealing with their confused tension."
"Wait, isn't this the guy who cheated with her?"
He nodded. "Now I'm not saying he's horrible. But you gotta at least break up with the girl before you go with another."
"Ahh you're taking my teachings to heart," you smiled, leaning your head against his arm.
"I have to Kit. Every time I don't I feel like you're gonna pop out and whack me–" Landing a weak hit to his side, he clamped his hand around your wrist, tugging you close with a laugh. "Like that!"
Attempting to free yourself was futile when he outmatched you in strength and speed. Yet you found that you enjoyed being this close to him. Laughing as you once did in the years of your youth. When all that mattered was which movie you were seeing that Friday and what school the team was playing.
Somehow—in the blink of an eye—you were two adults stuck in your own travesties. Forced to forgo the blithe energy of your childhood. You'd jump at the chance to go back; if only to get more time with Eddie. To spend a few more hours in his bedroom watching horror movies that left you both shell shocked and restless.
To cheer him on at every game with the promise of burgers and shakes at the local drive in afterwards. To watch him grow up and move to New York. Only this time...you'd follow him the second he asked.
His eyes softened as your smile slipped from your lips, fingers curling around his fist. Hazel had never been your favorite color until Eddie left. You rarely thought of it when he was home, but as his absence became a reality you could no longer suffer through you began to see the color everywhere. In the trees, in the color of your old blanket you stole off his childhood bed, in the flannel that once belonged to his grandfather.
You found traces of Eddie Alden in every little aspect of your life, except him.
"Kitten," he murmured, a fraction closer than he'd been a minute ago. His eyes dropped to the curve of your lips, how they parted so sweetly at the sound of your pet name.
"Eddie..."
All that remained was the space between your heads—your body practically leaning into him the longer you talked. He could lean in and kiss you. He could finally learn what you tasted like, figure out how you'd sound if his tongue licked along yours. Fuck he'd never wanted something more.
The dazed glint in your eyes made his heart twist, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. Your gaze fixed on the movement immediately and Eddie felt his cock twitch in interest. One day he'd explain to you how fucking beautiful you were; how his mind went haywire at the sight of your smile. How he'd destroy himself to get you to look at him like he hung the moon and stars.
One day he'd spill his deepest darkest secrets to you.
Starting with three little words that kept him up at night tossing and turning.
He swallowed thickly. "I..."
The door buzzed loud enough to scare the shit out of you. Leaping back, you felt the breath catch in your throat painfully and like an idiot you began to cough. Eddie's eyes went wide, his hand tapping your back as you waved him off to get the pizza. Leaving you to sit there on his couch and choke...on air.
Dumbass.
"Thanks man," Eddie muttered, handing off what cash he had left in his wallet. "Keep the change."
He rushed back to the couch, pizza in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Kit, you okay? Here drink this before you die on my fuckin' couch."
"Shut up Eddie," you snipped, eyes burning with a glare. Though the smile on your lips told him something else. "Hand over the pizza before it's you dying."
"Yes ma'am," he muttered, flipping open the box and swiping the remote off the coffee table. Taking his spot by your side back with a grin.
"I can't fucking move," you grumbled, leg splayed on Eddie's lap as the movie credits rolled across the screen.
He scoffed, kneading the flesh of your calf. "That's cause you ate five slices of pizza."
"You're one to talk Alden. You ate the other five." Nudging his leg with your socked foot, you tried to get a rise out of the man who couldn't stop smiling. At one point it would have unnerved you. Given you the impression that he was making fun of you, but then it dawned on you as bright as daybreak.
Eddie Alden was happy.
"It's one a.m. Kit," he groaned, head falling to the back of the couch. "I've gotta get up for work at six."
"That's so early," you sighed.
"Yeah well. Some of us work for a living."
Another nudge to his thigh deepened his smile and your heart notched another mark that began to form his name the day you turned twelve. His lethargic form struck you in the stomach. Sexy in his long sleeve black sweater rolled at the sleeves. Beautiful with that broad smile and twinkling eyes of joy.
Bewitching in every aspect that made him yours.
Though that remained a blatant fantasy in your mind that would never come to fruition. If only you took a peek inside Eddie's mind. If only you looked at him for longer than a few minutes at a time. You would finally see that his heart started beating for you the day he met you; unable to find a rhythm for anyone else because your song kept him alive.
Your heart's song held him on his knees hoping.
"So that means curfew?" you muttered.
He shrugged. "For me. Doesn't have to be for you."
Disappointment flickered in his eyes, masked quick enough to conceal the ache that rang in his chest. But you caught onto it, tugged it towards you to inspect what exactly he wanted from you. Perhaps it was stupid to put all your energy into pleasing a man, but when it came to Eddie you couldn't help it.
Seeing him happy made your entire body sing. It brought you a light you didn't know could exist in a life that remained bleak without him.
"I'm fine going to sleep early."
"Are ya sure?" he pressed, his thumb curling around your ankle—the soft brush teasing chills down your spine.
Biting on the inside of your cheek hard enough to distract from his touch, you nodded. "Just make it up to me tomorrow."
This time…he didn't bother to hide the effect your words had on him. A smirk curling onto his lips, eyes dark enough to shove the breath from your lungs. How could a man look so alluring? Eddie was your siren. A predator who called you out to the depths of the sea with his soothing song of love. A man who never knew how your heart broke each night. He'd never know how you cried yourself to sleep that first night he left, never learn that you struggled to breathe without him.
He would go on as he always did and you would watch with a somber smile.
"C'mon," you sighed, sliding off the couch and effectively breaking his hold on your leg (much to his dismay). "You've got to sleep. I'm not gonna be responsible for you fucking up at your job."
With a snort he followed dutifully, hands grabbing for yours as you walked him to the small corner by his bedroom door. "I fuck up already Kit. And try as I might, I could never quite figure out how to pin it all on you."
His smirk cracked into a full blown smile, laughter echoing in the large apartment when you landed a smack to his chest. Wrestling your wrists into his hands, he turned you swiftly until he leaned against his door, a lazy grin on his lips. That fucking grin. A hazard to your own heart.
"You keep hitting me, kitten. Living up to your name every day."
You glared. "Unless you prefer I bite you."
A jolt went down his spine, body warming the longer you stood there eyeing him with a barely controlled fury. The playful anger that landed him in trouble more than once. Endless nights of wrestling like fiends, challenges won and lost, board games that turned violent too quickly to control. You were each other's kryptonite—the weakness never to be mentioned beyond shared looks and bouts of possession.
You were his to love. His to keep.
If only you knew.
"I'm never opposed to biting," he replied, eyebrows raised.
"Gross."
"It's not gross." Leaning down he pressed a kiss to your cheek, thumb running along your pulse point on your wrist. "It's kinky."
You scoffed, shoving at his chest. "I don't want to know!"
"Oh come on Kit! I've got stories–"
Slipping free, you headed to the guest room. "Go to sleep Eddie."
"You don't want a bedtime story?" He trailed after you, leaning against the doorframe, gaze intently watching you dig through your suitcase for a weathered graphic tee he bought at nineteen from a shitty indie concert. To see you kept it all this time made his heart flutter, his stomach twisting into familiar knots he longed for when you were apart from each other. "I can easily put you to sleep."
"Keep being gross. See how long I stay," you joked, pointedly staring over his shoulder. "Do you mind?"
He settled further, arms crossed at his chest. "Definitely not."
"Get out you freak."
"Now there's no need for name calling–" A pillow hit his face. "Or for violence. I swear you keep wanting to hurt me."
"Well if it works."
He snatched the pillow off the floor, tossing it back onto the bed before he jabbed a finger in your face—even as you smiled up at him with those eyes that catapulted him directly into the damn sun. "Behave kitten."
"Oh bite me Alden."
"See now we're talking!"
A shove against his chest had him stumbling towards the door, your entire body being used like a counterweight to push him out. He fell into the hallway with a grunt, teeth clamping onto his bottom lip to silence the laughter that threatened to echo off the empty walls. This wasn't an unusual position to find yourselves in—fighting like children who each held onto one end of a life altering secret.
Nights spent in the comfort of your home in high school with Eddie forced to sleep on the floor (per your mother's instructions) lead to picking on one another until the other caved. A past time you often ached to get back.
Maybe that's why you couldn't stop smiling at the sight of him trying to cling to the edge of your doorway. Maybe that's why your heart was set to burst when he snuck back in to simply hear you shout his name.
Two humans helplessly gone for one another with nothing to show for it but a lifetime of friendship. Never meant to be more than this.
"Night kitten!" he called from his room, the door shutting with a soft thud as you slipped beneath the thick comforter.
"Goodnight Eddie," you sighed, settled atop the mountain of pillows, your eyes fixed on the frame a few feet away.
The smiling image of younger you mocked the current situation; her haughty demeanor formed a sour pit in your stomach, your body desperate to curl in on itself the longer you stared at the past. You were so naive back then. Ready and willing to jump when Eddie gave you the go ahead. But what's changed? How had you moved away from that young hopeless girl? You still gave into his pleas, you relinquished your strength and handed it over without taking a second to think perhaps you should have considered the fallout.
Eddie said jump.
And suddenly you found yourself in New York.
Still naive. Still hopelessly in love with a man who might never see you as anything other that high school girl. The kitten who trailed after him looking for an owner who might show you some love, who might spare you a second glance.
"Pathetic," you muttered, flipping to your other side in the hopes that sleep would find you.
The creak of your partially shut door is what roused you from a restless and fitful two hours of chasing sleep to no avail. Your eyes cracked open in the pitch black, body rolling to see the kitchen light illuminate a rather tall and shirtless Eddie. He rubbed a hand over his face, eyes bleary with lack of sleep, and wordlessly you pulled the blankets back to the empty side on your right.
A smile curled on his lips, lazy and barely there, but it lit you up from the inside out—his feet softly padding on the cement floor as he stumbled through the room. Unsuccessfully if the whispered cuss word muttered under his breath after hitting his leg was anything to go by. You hid your grin beneath the edge of the comforter, feeling the bed dip when he shuffled to find the comfiest spot.
"'S fucking cold in here," he mumbled, shoving the blanket up to his neck.
"It's your apartment."
"Yeah, yeah. Just c'mere." He sighed, long and bordering on defeat. "I missed you."
He didn't give you the option of backing out, his hands grasping blindly for your waist. Of course, you didn't put up much of a fight either. The bed felt desolate in his absence. As if it'd been waiting for him all this time—hoping he might come to fill the gaps where frigid air seeped through. Somehow Eddie remained your knight in shining armor. Your savior against the horrors no matter how minuscule.
Dark bedrooms and empty beds included.
Silence swept over you in gentle soothing waves. The promise of sleep settled contently in your grasp, allowing you a moment to finally rest for the first time since you got on that plane. But you couldn't find it in you to close your eyes. Instead you let your gaze wander over Eddie's face as he sunk into the depths of sleep—his hand clasped in yours and settled between your bodies.
"Hey Eddie," you whispered.
"Hm?"
"I missed you too."
His lips curled slightly, body shifting close enough for you to feel his breath wash across your face. Warm and minty fresh and so much like Eddie it chipped another piece of your heart off. He didn't know how painful it would be to leave. How you'd cling to memories as tiny as this in the dark of your own bedroom.
He wouldn't understand how you broke sleeping next to the love of your life, yet a chasm deep enough to drown you sat between you. Oh, what you wouldn't give to swim across with ease and find yourself on the shores of his love. You wished for him on every falling star, with each set of birthday candles, and yet the powers of the universe felt compelled to keep you apart.
"Hey Eddie." He hummed, his thumb running across your wrist. "Did you buy this bed for me?"
His laugh was low, a mere breath let loose in the wild for you to intake with your own. Yet you felt his hand tighten around yours and the slight shift of his face as his nose nudged yours.
Where you expected to get a firm no—a repeated response from hours before—Eddie Alden still had a way to surprise you.
"Yeah," he admitted softly, effectively setting your heart on fire.
Sunlight illuminated the open doorway, spilling into the bedroom with its soft glow. You ached to sleep for a few hours more, or at least until you could effectively wean the jet lag from your body. The bed was cold to the touch on Eddie's side—his furnace-like qualities doing nothing to keep you warm in the early afternoon air.
On winter nights he made sleeping with a shitty radiator worth the lack of blankets. But that might have just been because it was him beside you and no one else.
You winced when your bare feet made contact with the frozen floor—the shock to your system forcing you to remain awake. The urge to ask for a rug rose to the forefront of your mind, but Eddie had already spent so much time perfecting the bedroom. Each detail catered to your distinct style and taste. A small offering of home in the middle of an unknown city.
A small basket of your favorite snacks—that certainly hadn't been there last night—sat on the dresser. You chose not to question it, grabbing a cookie out of the pack to quell your stomach. Chocolate and peanut butter, a dangerous combination.
The same cookies you shared on the roof of his house—the echo of his parents shouting about everything and anything muffled in the background. A shitty radio propped by his feet to drown them out and the echo of your voice filling his ears. He never complained, so you kept talking. All the way through high school and college and each late night phone call.
You unknowingly became the salve to Eddie's pain.
The bandage that held up when all the others withered away. You kept him stable through endless fights with his father, on nights he simply couldn't take hearing his mother cry anymore. You held him on days when the grief of being the only thing tying their toxic relationship together became too much. The expectation to maintain a perfect standard ate away at him, until eventually…he didn't care anymore.
Until you made him change his mind; the invisible red string of fate connecting the two of you dragged him out of the darkness. Since then he refused to let go—not that you wanted him to.
"Eddie?" you called, ambling to the kitchen.
Burnt coffee stung your nose, drawing a smile to the surface. But a press of your palm to the half filled cold pot let you know he made it several hours ago. Probably in the hopes that it would rouse you from sleep before he took off for work. You caught sight of a small ripped piece of notebook paper attached to the fridge beneath a overly large magnet of Lady Liberty.
Coffee's for you (since you asked for only the best). I'm at work if you need to reach me, but feel free to grab breakfast at the cafe down the street. On me.
-Eddie
A twenty was stuffed beneath the corner of the magnet, crinkled and folded more times than you could guess. You wondered if he dug it out of his pocket—coat or jacket—and figured it would hold you over until he came home. The gesture simmered low in your stomach, fluttering up in waves of cascading love that longed to drown you. Some other day you would have let it, but today you stood in Eddie's apartment.
Today you got to spend time with your favorite person.
That was reason enough to swim back to the shore and claw your way along wet sand that your hands sunk into.
Dragging your heavy coat up and over your body, you pocketed the spare set of keys Eddie left out on the counter. A set that was always meant for you—not that he told you. Exploring New York on your own was never a part of the plan, but something warm burned bright in your chest at the thought of getting to witness parts of it for yourself. Things that Eddie wouldn't be attached to. Moments stolen for your own safe keeping.
Perhaps one day you'd tell him about this small adventure. Or maybe he'd pry the information out of you tonight over drinks. Either way you felt lighter than you had in years, strolling along the icy sidewalks, your breath forming a cloud with each soft exhale.
People rushed past you, some stuck in a phone call—a briefcase attached to their hand—others weighed down by gift bags meant for the upcoming holiday season. All with somewhere to be.
Clouds of dark gray were scattered across the sky, as if created by a single brush stroke with no real purpose. You longed to have a camera in your hands, to snap photos of your first time in the city. Pictures you would be able to look back on and hold in your hand; time that you'd never get again. At least then you might get to leave with something other than a broken and heavy heart.
The cafe was sparse with a few people sitting at tables, books or notebooks or even a newspaper propped in front of them. Steam rising off their various mugs. Everyone was looking to escape the cold for a bit. For some reason that made you smile.
Fishing the twenty out of your pocket, you barely got two feet into the place before ramming into someone's back. You braced yourself to fall, hands clenched in fists to give your arms the impact, only for someone to grip your forearms and drag you into a proper standing position. People's eyes were fixed on the scene before them. Someone about to make a fool of themselves—a person they would no doubt speak about to their significant others and friends later on today.
"Fuck I'm sorry," you gasped, righting your feet to keep some form of balance.
The first thing you noticed was his laugh.
Dark and raspy and soft enough to fill your body with a flutter that felt unknown to you in the presence of someone else. Your head rose to thank your savior, but brown eyes were all you could see. Warm with honey and amber that lit up with the quirk of his lips. Only once in your life had a man stolen the breath right from your chest, yet there he was. Drawing forth that spark of fleeting want that stirred low in your stomach—filling your head with a haze that felt soothing on your nerves.
"You alright?" he asked, voice a smooth match for his laugh.
Swallowing thickly, you attempted to drag common sense to the forefront of your mind. "I'm…um…okay."
Another laugh left you flustered enough to feel a thrill of panic streak down your spine. "In a rush for coffee?"
"What?"
He glanced at the way your fist was clutched around the twenty dollar bill. "You can go in front of me if it's an emergency."
"Oh. No I'm just wandering," you admitted, a bit breathier than you would have liked. "I'm not from here."
"Ah. Visiting?"
You nodded. "Came to see my friend. Although I guess I'm shit out of luck cause he's at work right now."
"And you came here for coffee?" His laugh was quickly burrowing in your mind, finding space where there's only ever been room for one man. Eddie. "He doesn't have good taste in coffee does he?"
"What's wrong with this place?"
A shrug had him lifting his hands in surrender. "Okay coffee, short lines. Although I guess I can't complain now that you're here."
Oh.
He was flirting with you.
He looked at you with a kindness that melted the armor that encased your heart for one man. The protection you thought was needed to survive loving someone who may never be able to love you back. Countless years of Eddie falling for woman after woman, times that left you broken and bitter simply thinking about the concept of romance in any form. But here stood a man who possibly wanted to get to know you.
Someone with a nice smile and eyes that screamed endless joy.
The grin on your lips came with ease this time around. "Your lucky day."
"Now that you mention it." His brows pulled together in a mock thought. "I did have a pretty good feeling about this place."
"Fate's doing?"
"Could be." Moving his way up to the counter, you quickly took that chance to fix any part of yourself that could be in disarray. "I'll take a latte and whatever she's having."
"That's not–"
The barista clicked the sharpie with an expression screaming of boredom. "Name?"
"Louie."
"Five minutes."
"Thank you ma'am." Snatching a small card placed at the front he scribbled something down and shoved it your way. "For you."
The wary glance didn’t seem to deter him. "The bill?"
He chuckled; you ached to hear that sound as many times as possible before the both of you parted ways. "My number. And name. Figure that might help."
"Louie…Parker."
"That's me."
The both of you huddled near a corner table, his back leaning against the wall and hands shoved into his coat pockets. A part of you dug for faults amidst his perfect smile and sharp nose—any chance for your heart to come to terms with why you should walk away. Useless reasons why you didn't need to stand here entertaining a man you might never see again. Yet nothing sprung to mind.
He was kind. Open and willing to let you pick through his mind—to see that what he wanted wasn’t the opposite of the other man your heart pined for.
Suddenly the name Louie sounded sweet coming off your tongue. The letters mixed with the lyrical melody of a future you didn’t consider before meeting Eddie. A chance to finally grow the way you wanted. You weren’t tied to one single person and to trick yourself into believing that was a disservice to yourself.
His name rang through the small cafe, signaling that your time together was slowly coming to a close. But you found yourself attempting to come up with a way to stay on this page—stopping the story in place.
“Here you go.” He handed over your order with a full blown smile that shone with a nervousness you felt linger in your own stomach.
So this is what you’d been missing all these years.
“I don’t do this much,” he began, tearing open two packs of sugar with a shaky cough. “But if you happen to find yourself free or with loads of time on your hands. I’d be happy to show you around the city.”
You sipped at your drink, biting back the smile that still forced its way onto your lips. “Adventuring with a stranger. Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Well I wouldn’t recommend it,” he huffed. “But cross my heart, boy scout honor, promise that I am normal as they come around here."
“Boy scout?”
His cheeks flushed scarlet; you finally understood the appeal of flirting. “Nothing wrong with being a boy scout.”
“No you’re right I’m sorry,” you giggled.
He straightened and graced you with a smile bright enough to rival the spark of caffeine in your veins. “Call me. If you want of course. But…I hope you do.”
At one point in your life this would have been the exact opposite of everything you dreamed of. The small fantasy created in the mind of an impressionable and naive child slowly began to break apart the older you and Eddie got. Some piece of you still longed for the boy who held you when you cried over small mishaps and boys who called you names. But she was placed on a shelf long ago—she served her purpose, she lived with a smile, and you were thankful to have known her innocence.
They say growing up is the hard part, letting go of childhood comfort. They never spoke about letting go of childhood love, of moving past something you counted on. A future that would never be.
“I’d like that.”
“Really?” You nodded, practically watching the relief wash over his tense shoulders as he fell into step with you, heading for the door. “Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll uh…” He rammed into a woman, nearly spilling his coffee. “Shit sorry miss.”
Latching onto his jacket, you tugged him into you to keep his feet steady—the cuss she offered in response loud enough to follow the both of you outside. Neither of you could discern who laughed first. But the first domino was set into motion, leading to the uncontrollable ache of laughter that burned through your stomach. Your cheeks hurt, the tears were rising to the surface, and Louie fared no better.
The crimson tinge of his skin spread to the tip of his nose with the cold icy chill of the afternoon air. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his beauty. The both of you were bent over, gasping for a full breath of air, and in the midst of this small joy it hit you. This was the first time you weren’t thinking of Eddie. You weren’t wondering what he was doing, what his days were occupied with.
You were blissfully free from the thought of your true love.
And it felt good.
“I’m going this way,” he gestured behind him, the steam from his cup curling around his face.
“I’m going the other way.”
He nodded. “Exploring?”
“Probably.”
“Well.” He sucked in a breath, reluctance in his stance. But eventually the pages would flip to the final page and even though you both wanted this to go on longer, the understanding of what this was still remained. You didn’t live in New York, he would never hear from you again, and that was the beauty of strangers. “Have a good day.”
You grinned, watching him walk into the throng of people on the street, the head of dark hair melting into the crowd with a sigh. “You too,” you mumbled, heading towards the corner with a lighter heart and weightless mind.
The city sang to you while you walked. A symphony of voices, of car horns and shouts, of people chattering on calls to nowhere and everywhere. You resided in the middle of a civilization that both welcomed and ignored you. Somehow that held a string of familiarity to it. The unconscionable knowing that somewhere in the chaos of New York, you belonged here.
Old sayings came back to your mind as you passed businesses and restaurants. A truth you clung to on the days that Eddie called to relay a week's worth of information from the city that never sleeps. Something awaited you here, a piece of your future yet to come true. Perhaps that’s why you got on the plane and agreed to his constant pleading. Not to appease him, but to find that something.
Your feet hurt after an hour, the cold breaching the thick layer of your jacket, and eventually you found yourself back at Eddie’s place. The pungent scent of fish became easy enough to follow the closer you got. His key felt cold against your palm, the weight of it suddenly looming in the distance now that you crossed paths with Louie. He wanted to get to know you, he wanted to spend time with you.
Eddie left you alone to wander on the first day of your visit.
“Yeah,” you sighed, sliding the key into the lock with ease. “I’ll call him.”
“I don’t understand how you can take so fuckin’ long in here.”
You swatted the imposing hand heading straight for your near perfect eyeliner. “I’m not against biting you Alden.”
The grin he flashed you in the mirror nearly broke the resolve you built up all day—his charm striking your heart with a lethal promise. Two hours of alone time in his place gave you a chance to collect yourself. Louie’s name and number was pressed into the small notebook you kept at all times. You itched to call him, make plans for a date that was long overdue in your life.
That is until Eddie waltzed through the door with the plea for you to get ready for a night out on the town. Some time to finally be the adults who took over for two young and reckless teenagers. Reality shattered clean over your head, reminding you that this trip—this short lived time of fun—was always meant to be spent with Eddie.
He made the plans, he got you here. To spend it with another man felt inherently wrong.
“Again with the biting kitten,” he sighed, sipping his cocktail made messily in the kitchen. “I’m starting to think you like the idea of marking me up.”
Your hand faltered, the mascara wand nearly ramming into your eye. “You’re delusional.”
“Mhm.” He popped the olive in his mouth with a grin, shaking his head at the glare thrown over your shoulder. “You don’t have to be fancy. It’s just a bar.”
“I’m doing this for myself Eddie.”
The slight roll of his eyes didn’t slip past you—his muttered words brushed off with another swipe of lipstick. Rarely did you get the chance to head out at home. Stuffed into cheap back road bars that believed the shitty beer would stop people from commenting on the state of their bathrooms. Forced to listen to nostalgic conversations that always stemmed back to the good old days of high school.
After a year or two of friends dragging you past the thresholds of buildings that’d seen far more than necessary from a string of generations that came before you, it eventually led to the confines of your apartment being your safe space.
Soon…they stopped asking for your presence already knowing the answer that sat urgently on the tip of your tongue.
“Never thought you’d be one to go fancy,” he mused, leaning against the door frame—his looming height throwing you off. “You never used to do it.”
You sighed, bitter and jaded and filled with empty words of irritation. “We had to grow up eventually. Consider this me being grown up.”
“Oh believe me,” he breathed, burning gaze dragging down to how your jeans molded to your hips. “I know.”
Downing the final dregs of his drink, he ripped his eyes from the dark denim with a disgruntled sigh attempting to ignore the ache in his stomach that rapidly spread to the tight confines of his own pants. Discouraging you from putting on pretty things was the last thing he wanted. The exact opposite rang in his mind like a bell without end—a reminder that if he stepped up and opened his fucking mouth this wouldn’t be an issue.
He wanted to reach for you, slide his hands into the pockets that were stretched over your ass and grope the flesh without concern for what it would do to your friendship. He longed for the chance to try and keep you in his apartment, to peel the fabric from your body with enamored words of worship.
The fear held him by the scruff of his neck, sliding down his spine with a vicious promise that this would shatter on impact. The bond stretched tight and thin over years and distance was vulnerable. To tamper with it was a catastrophe waiting to happen. He’d never forgive himself if he became the reason it ripped and frayed.
So he kept his mouth shut and watched as you admired the top that hugged your breasts, adjusting it slightly to pronounce their plushness. The second you puckered your lips, leaning forward to touch up the smudged lipstick Eddie felt his breaking point rush to the surface. With a barely hidden cough, he rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water—desperate to calm the incessant throbbing that stirred his cock to attention.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, the cold tap water sliding down his throat with a icy burn.
It didn’t help.
“Go the fuck away.” He snarled the words under his breath, gripping the edge of the cold counter until his knuckles paled.
“Are you talking to me?”
With wide eyes, he whirled around at the soft echo of your voice filling the empty space. You with trepidation in your gaze and mouth pulled into a frown. Those pretty lips carved from marble, accentuated in a mauve he wanted smeared over the bare skin of his chest. Shutting his eyes to the sight felt like the only way he could survive tonight, but you were waiting for him to reassure the doubts that spilled into an already hesitant mind.
Worries that overtook your mind at the worst times.
“No,” he blurted out. “Not really talkin’ to anyone. Just uh…needed some water. Sore throat.”
Your brows furrowed, lips curling into a grin. “It’s cause your apartment is fucking cold!”
“Lies,” he retorted, dragging his leather jacket up and over his body. “‘S cause you got me sick.”
“Oh bullshit!” An arm draped over your shoulders, leading you to the heavy metal front door. “I didn’t show up sick. It’s all your own fault for not taking my advice.”
“Advice huh?”
“Get a better radiator or fix it. I’m not getting hypothermia for you.”
Digging his teeth into his lip, he swallowed the smile—eyes gleaming beneath the stairwell lights. “Who says you’re gonna get hypothermia? You’ve got a heater right here.” He gestured down his body with a cocksure smile. “I won’t let you get sick.”
“You have a bedroom of your own.”
“Kicking me out already?” he exclaimed, following you down the steps. “I thought we were bound for life.”
Scoffing, you turned to glance up at his imposing form—the saliva drying in your mouth instantly. “Well…we’re…friends. Not roommates.”
He clutched his heart. “You wound me kitten.”
“Fuck off Eddie,” you laughed.
“I can’t.” He fell into step beside you, guiding you out into the frozen night air. “Unfortunately you’re stuck with me.”
Two bars later and three glasses of beer had you and Eddie stumbling through the doors of his third and possibly final pick of the night. The first wound up being downstairs. A small hole in the wall that served relatively good drinks, yet held no space for two extra people to add to the madness. So he dragged you downtown to a tiny hovel beneath the towering buildings of the city—only to wind up with a shitty pungent aftertaste at the back of your throat.
The space reeked of cigarettes. Butts of smoked joints and Marlboros scattered the floor as people cheered for whatever song came up next. Couples or strangers or first timers danced aimlessly, lost in the alcohol that filled their veins. You wanted to say you fared better, but the days of drinking Eddie under the table were long gone.
A forgotten piece of youth scattered along the back roads of your town.
“I’m gonna grab another beer.” He pressed the words to your ear with cold lips and a tight grip on your hip.
“Sublime,” you drawled, watching him push through the throng of people with a determined gait in his step.
Relenting yourself to the fitful search of an empty table, you nearly rammed your hip into the corner of a booth on your way past a small group of women. A bachelorette party from the veil and flushed cheeks of a soon to be bride celebrating her future. You swallowed the sour tang of jealousy, easing yourself past with a halfhearted grin at the woman who tossed a flawless smile your way.
Marriage was never in the cards for you. Eternally bound, tied by more than the strings of fate.
How could you think of anyone else filling the space Eddie stood in for years? He was the groom in your mind, the man waiting at the end of an extremely long aisle. Replacing him felt wrong. A betrayal that nearly threw you for a loop of dizziness.
Your eyes slid over the groups of people, finding him with ease at the bar—a beer gripped tightly in his hand and a smile on his lips…for the woman on his right. Bile crept up the back of your throat, burning your stomach ruthlessly. This wasn’t jealousy, this surpassed that. What you felt was a possession that settled in your bones the second you looked at him; a part of your mind that screamed he was yours.
But he wasn’t yours.
He was a single man living in New York and you were…his friend.
Swallowing thickly you navigated past another set of tables with your head down to watch the stumble of your feet. Only to feel someone slam into your shoulder, nearly toppling you over. Yelping, you gripped the hands that reached for your shoulders—eyes wide and breath lost at the prospect of getting injured while piss poor drunk. Brown eyes flashed in your vision, a face that echoed with familiarity, and suddenly there you were.
Back in that coffee shop in the arms of a stranger.
“We have to stop meeting like this.”
You blinked rapidly, lips tilting into a grin at the sight of Louie Parker. “But how will I make an impression if we don’t?” you quipped with a breathless laugh.
“Believe me–” He settled you back on your feet, his hands dropping to the small of your back. “–you’ve made an impression.”
“A good one I hope.”
He smiled, still warm, still…different. “A great one.”
Someone shoved past you, landing you right into his chest with a muffled grunt. You longed to get out of this stuffy bar, to find your way back to the spacious yet freezing apartment. But the arrival of Louie kept you rooted to the spot, intrigued to find out what might happen next. His smile drew you in with a serene lull of quiet in this crowded and loud place. The people melted into the background as he kept you close.
A different song came on, people cheered, and yet you found that hanging out with Louie was the best option for the night. You felt bad at the thought you were forgetting Eddie entirely, but he chose to leave you on your own to hit on someone. Why couldn’t you do the same?
“So since this is our second meeting,” he started with a nervous glint in his eyes, cheeks flushed with the alcohol he no doubt drank before this. “I was wondering if you’re free…um…in a few days?”
Sucking in a breath, you felt an unfamiliar flutter echo in your chest—one that solely existed for Eddie. “I’m not here for a long time–”
“Then tomorrow night?”
You froze, eyes wide at the thought of finally getting a chance to live. You owed it to yourself to finally experience this. To give the prospect of love in a different person another chance. So with a smile you placed a hand on his chest and found your footing in an unfamiliar space.
“I’d love to.” Heat spilled across your spine where he touched you; an unexplored path you tried not to be terrified of.
“Really?” His breathless voice echoed with a rasp that had you hanging onto every word. “I can pick you up.”
Nodding, you felt the rapid rate of his heart pump beneath your hand. “Just let me know the place. Easier that way.”
“Well I don’t want you to get lost,” he drawled, eyes half lidded and burning dark with a want that left you jittery. “It is a big city.”
“That it is,” you mumbled, teeth sharply pressing into your bottom lip hard enough to keep you level.
The beer tasted shitty enough to hold him over for another twenty minutes, knuckles rapping on the bar to order an extra for you. Aria slid into the spot beside him, her lips pulled into a knowing smirk that curdled his stomach. She worked at his office, often trading her girl troubles for his. It wasn’t uncommon for him to drink a bit too much and let loose the name of his dream woman—his favorite person.
He swallowed the remainder of his drink as she turned to him, eyebrow raised as silence and the chatter of people filled the space between them. That was the thing about Aria. She refused to let him get away until he spilled his guts. Until the one thing that bugged him fell upon her attuned ears.
“Shut up,” he muttered.
She laughed, taking a sip of the vodka soda pushed her way. “You’re like a dog with a bone, Alden.”
“I don’t know what you’re fuckin’ talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” She glanced over his shoulder, no doubt at the stunning person he’d come to call his best friend. “That her? The soulmate?”
He swallowed down another mouthful. “I didn’t say soulmate.”
With a snort she leaned close. “I believe your exact words were: I met my soulmate at twelve and she doesn’t even know how much I fucking. love. her.”
“I was drunk,” he exclaimed.
“Still said it Eddie.”
Grumbling under his breath, he sipped at the second beer meant for you—eyes fixed on the sticky wooden bar-top that held an infinite amount of rings from glasses set there over the years. It wasn’t the finest establishment, but he found it to be a part of his life here in the city. A piece of the man who learned how to live on his own in a place that nearly throttled him on the first day.
“She’s visiting,” he mumbled into his glass.
Aria hummed. “Sure seems like it’s more than that. Especially with that guy.”
Pain splintered through the tendons in his neck with how fast his head turned, picking you out within seconds. A smile played along your smudged lips, your gaze transfixed on the man whose hands were curled around your hips. The same spot Eddie craved to touch each night, the same body that he longed to love with his teeth and tongue.
Rage simmered at the top of his stomach, his fingers clenching around the glass hard enough to crack it—jaw ticking and teeth grinding at the sight of your carefree laugh directed at someone else.
He never wanted to burn the world more. To ram his fist into the face of a man who might have been astronomically nice.
“Excuse me,” he spit out, getting to his feet with a lungful of air.
Her knowing laugh fell on deaf ears while he shoved past people. He was five seconds from vaulting over the tables to get to you, his heart hammering sharply against his chest. This hostility towards your dating life wasn’t born from malice. Not in any way that was directed at you. He merely hated each man who showed even a partial interest in you.
All through high school he shoved them away with duplicitous words and rueful smiles. Claiming that you were already dating someone, that you weren’t looking for much.
Perhaps it was awful. Maybe he destroyed your love life to sleep easier at night. But he did it because none of them would know your favorite color, or remember the album you played on a constant loop in tenth grade, or envision the home they’d build with you and what color the kitchen would be. They’d never see the depths of your heart even as you blatantly wore it on your sleeve.
He would.
He always had.
Call it selfish, call it insanity, call it hypocritical for bringing you heartache as he slept with half of New York. They all rang with a truth that haunted him—picking him a part with the ruthless edge of a sword he walked daily.
Because he was selfish and insane and a fucking hypocrite. He was everything you’d call him and more the day you found out. And he’d take it with a smile, the taste of you on his tongue as he stole a kiss. He would face the wrath of your anger if it meant you were his.
“How are you liking New York?” The man’s question echoed with a reverence that made the alcohol in Eddie’s stomach churn.
Somehow in such a short time you managed to charm a man before Eddie could gain the courage to tell you the truth. He knew he would be sick the second you guys got back to his place. He’d find himself on the bathroom floor as you pulled and strangled his weeping heart. And he couldn’t even blame you for it. You didn’t know the extent of his feelings, you were completely unaware of how he spent some days thinking of what you were doing—what you were thinking about—and it was all his fault.
“The city is packed–”
Eddie sauntered over with a smile, his hand finding purchase on the small of your back. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get out of visiting me, kitten?”
You froze, expression swirling with the guilt of being caught with your hand in the cookie jar, and Eddie had never felt more pathetic in his life. How could he make you feel bad about this? How could he ruin another prospect that clearly seemed interested in the way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks with each quick blink? Was he truly this inconsiderate?
“Oh!” You glanced at Eddie, your pupils dilating at the sight of his smirk. His ego swelled at the sight. “Eddie there you are.”
“Here I am.” At long last he finally acknowledged the man who clung to you with rapturous awe in his eyes. “And who is this?”
The stranger relented his hold on your hip to extend that same hand towards him. “Louie Parker. You must be the best friend?”
“And oldest friend,” he replied in a snarky tone of reproach, gripping hard enough to see him wince. “Since elementary school. Right Kit?”
“Kit?” Louie grinned at you; Eddie seethed.
You seemed none the wiser of the obvious pissing contest directly in front of you. “Old nickname. Eddie’s mom gave it to me. She used to call me the stray kitten he found next door.”
“It’s cute,” Louie replied. “Kitten.”
Eddie’s fingers curled into fists, eyes burning with enough anger to set the entire bar ablaze. You looked happy with Louie, blissfully so. It dug at the insecure parts of himself he thought he buried in college—the parts that screamed for peace. He didn’t come from a perfect family. He didn’t have the greatest hold of his temper. He wasn’t…the man you deserved. Maybe Louie was and maybe Louie was meant to be your husband—your forever.
That alone left him aching to snuff out the sparks even as they flew above his head. Selfish, greedy, possessive. Eddie was all of that and more, and he refused to be ashamed of things that kept you in his life.
You’d hate him for it later. That he could handle.
As long as you were there to hate him.
“We gotta go,” he announced, hooking a finger into the back belt loop of your jeans to tug you closer. “There’s another spot I wanted to show you.”
Staring at him incredulously made him dizzy with the sight. “It’s almost midnight.”
“Bars don’t close till three kitten.”
The pout on your lips had his heart dropping to his stomach. Fuck what he wouldn’t give to lick the mauve stain off your mouth. He wanted to taste the alcohol off your tongue, to test his theory of it being better off your tastebuds. He wondered what you would do if he were to kiss you right now in front of everyone. Would you push him off? Would you curse at him with vitriol on your lips? Or would you sink into it with the same needy ache that spread down to the tips of his fingers?
He hoped for the former even as he knew the latter was reality.
“But I…” A quick glance at Louie left you floundering for the right answer. Eddie played it up with a ruthless streak of defiance.
Leaning in, he felt you go slack in his hold at the sight of his wide eyes pleading for you to say yes. “Please.”
You sighed, pulling free from Louie’s hold with an apologetic grin. “I’ll call you.”
Pride bloomed in his chest, guilt clinging to the last dregs of beer that sat at the top of his stomach. This vacation wasn’t meant for you to fall in love with someone else. But who was he to make that choice for you? You should have spit at him, cussed at him with the teenage fury handed to him in the past. The girl he longed to see once more.
The one you buried the day he left you behind. A way to escape the pain of his absence.
“This better be good,” you mumbled, hand gripped into the back of his jacket as he led you through the crowd.
His hand itched to slide into the pocket of your pants; instead he sunk his teeth into the flesh of his cheek. “You’ve never seen the city at night.”
“I’m here all week. We could have gone some other day.”
A shrug became his only answer. The opportunity for silence grew easier as you traipsed beside him, the echo of night drumming the chaotic beat he grew to harmonize with. Taxi’s honked their horns, people shouted across small streets. New York in all its glory. A list of spots to take you formed in his head, the bars and cafes still open past midnight. You would loathe most, find no entertainment in others, and so he led you aimlessly—no true destination needed when all he craved was your company.
Much to his surprise you looped your arm around his, soaking in the glow of streetlights and frozen air of an icy winter. Eyes filled with wonder and lips curled into a grin, he knew this was it. The moment he’d think back to after your plane departed, after you finally left him to survive the gaping hole forged in his unsteady heart. You with starlight in your eyes—rapture painted across a face he saw in his dreams.
A haunting angel that saved him long ago.
“You look like you belong here Kit,” he admitted with a whispered reverence.
Your gaze met his—the sparkle bright enough to rival the glow of the moon. “I do huh?”
“A true New Yorker if I’ve ever seen one.”
“High praise coming from you.”
A beat of silence echoed with decades of a future brimming with one single possibility. A life spent here…with you.
“So stay,” he uttered.
The whip of your head sent pain down your neck. “Ha ha Eddie.”
“I’m not joking.”
Your smile faltered. “I can’t stay here Eddie. I don’t…”
“You don’t what?” His brows furrowed—other hand sliding to keep you close.
“I don’t belong here.” With a sigh you ducked your head, the streetlight playing off your hair, forming a halo. “Not like you do. I’d have nothing holding me here, nothing to do.”
His chest twisted, heart stuttering an unknown beat of anguish. “Yes you do.”
“Eddie–”
“You belong here more than you know. With…”
With me.
To wrench the words out of his chest felt impossible. A feat he’d been trying to overcome since highschool. One that grew in size the more years that passed—his secret tucked away from reality, its frail unsure nature reeking with a vulnerability he was too ashamed to reveal. But you knew more than anyone. You knew his quirks, how he dreamt of being a screenwriter, how he broke down crying the night his mother officially signed the divorce papers—splitting his life down the middle.
You’d seen him on his knees begging the world to cease his suffering. And in a way it did. Because with every smile you gave him, all the nights spent laughing until your stomachs flared with that soothing ache, you healed his haphazardly stitched up heart.
A question still burned in his chest, spurting out of his mouth without thought. “What do you think of love Kit?”
The incredulous expression on your face nearly made him take it back. But then…you answered.
“It’s ridiculous.”
He blanched, swallowing back the nausea. “What…”
Truth tumbled from your lips with a spite he’d never seen before—an anger that lay unresolved in your spirit. “It’s all bullshit. The whole romantic true love notion. It doesn’t exist.”
“Kitten–”
“No. You told me a long time ago that the whole true love soulmate shit isn’t real. And I tried to defend it—like really tried—but I think I’ve gotten tired of waiting for the knight in shining armor who doesn’t exist.”
Swallowing thickly, he shut out the piece of his heart perilously close to breaking off. “How do you know he doesn’t exist?” he croaked.
“Because he would have found me by now.” With a weary sigh, you shrugged. “Or maybe he does exist and just doesn’t want me.”
I want you. I want you till the end of time. I want you in this life and the next and each one we wind up in together.
But like a coward…he stayed quiet. “Oh…”
The words damning love—striking it down with a whip of fury—sounded different coming out of your mouth. As if you believed their bitterness. Took it to heart with the vow to escape from the emotions he never knew how to control. Soulmates weren’t bullshit, true love wasn’t fake. He knew that now.
He’d known the second he met you.
If only the stupidity of youth hadn’t dragged him down to a place he could never return.
“It’s freezing Eddie.”
Jolting out of his flurry of thoughts, he watched your eyes wide and shining look at him with hope. A fleeting need that simmered at the base of his stomach. The alcohol was starting to wear off, the lingering effects of a morning doomed with the hangover flaring to life. He sucked in a breath, steadying himself with a needy rush that fortified itself in the back of his head.
Focusing on the sound of your voice became difficult when all he could hear was the pleas to kiss you. His own mind turning against the docile moments of silence meant to swallow his affections.
He was nearing his breaking point. That alone should have terrified him.
“C’mere.” Looping his arms around your back he tucked you into his jacket, his chin finding a spot against your head, hands pressed into the heavy coat that never seemed to be enough.
A perfect placement of two halves unsure of whether or not they fit together.
The puzzle would remain unfinished, disjointed. But that’s how you’d grown to love one another. Perfectly imperfect.
“They sell hot chocolate at a cafe near here.”
You perked up with a smile, chin resting on his chest. “Hot chocolate? With whipped cream?”
“What do I look like? An animal?” he scoffed. “‘Course they got whipped cream.”
“Lead the way Alden.”
Sunlight felt odd when coupled with the frozen air of his living room; a fresh blanket of snow coated his balcony—the tops of buildings layered in what you could only describe as a white winter. The picture perfect background to time spent in New York during the holidays. Only your time was quickly coming to a close, your last two days moving exponentially fast given who you were spending it with. Although you supposed the melancholy of leaving your best friend behind made it worse.
You didn’t want to go home. You didn’t want to spend the holidays in a town scattered with memories of Eddie when he wasn’t around to make new ones.
So you resigned yourself to his couch with a book, a scratchy throw blanket covering your legs and a flattened pillow set behind your back. Both should have made for a time of awful relaxation, but you’d never been more comfortable. Surrounded by Eddie’s scent in his home as he hummed a broken tune in his bedroom. The clack of his keyboard loud enough to drown out the traffic outside—the horn of cars and taxis drifting through the thin glass.
The contrast of the two worlds left you sinking a bit further on his couch, your eyes soaking in the words typed neatly on the page. A love story. Ironic given the conversation the two of you had last night—confusing yet filled with clarity as to what you really believed. What you were unsure of from the start. Yes you believed in love, no you didn’t think true love was about to happen upon you on a random night in the city.
You wondered if Eddie was referring to Louie. The man he couldn’t pull you away from fast enough. Perhaps he saw something in the stranger. A flash of darkness you were too blind to notice.
The game of romance felt brand new, the fear of taking all the wrong steps swelling in your chest the more you strived towards it. Having your heart broken was bound to happen given that you’d never experienced much in love. The past was littered with memories of Eddie, of time spent with him as the only man in your life—the one who should have taught you what to do.
But now you were wading into open waters, desperate to see what lay on that small island of love, the hope in your heart diminishing the more your body ached from swimming.
Louie was nice. You liked him.
That had to be enough.
She cupped his face, lips searching for plush lips and whispers of the next day. The night echoed with the beat of their hearts, a tangled intermingling of souls who searched eternity for the prospect of forever. He kissed her with a husk filled groan, fingers gripping the base of her neck and cock sliding through dripping folds—
“Story must be pretty good to have your nose so far into it.”
You jerked back, eyes wide as Eddie’s broad form filled your eye level. “W-what?”
The sly raise of his eyebrow went unnoticed by your racing mind. “I asked if it was a good story.”
“Oh–” You shut the book on your finger, coughing subtly as your thighs pressed together. “Yeah. Great story.”
The original plan to visit his work was overshadowed by the hangover blinding the both of you into submission. Painkillers were your savior and cheap coffees bought down the street were your resolute salvation. It took two hours of laying in bed as Eddie moaned and grumbled down the hall on the phone in an attempt to snag yet another sick day. Eventually you dragged yourself out to the freezing cold kitchen, wincing as bare skin touched cement and effectively turned to ice.
That was an hour ago. Enough time for you to find the strength to focus your eyes on pages lined with lascivious and vulgar acts that made your heart race. It was a standard bodice ripper, picked up at the airport as a hopeful distraction on the journey here. Only to find that you actually enjoyed the story.
“Wanna tell me what it’s about?”
Heat prickled beneath the cold skin of your cheeks—his gaze unwavering and perceptive. “A love story.”
“Love story,” he mumbled.
“Standard romance. Man likes woman, proceeds to try and woo woman…stuff like that.”
“Ah.” A hand ripped the paperback from your grip quicker than you anticipated, his eyes devouring the page you marked as you sprang to your feet.
“Eddie!”
“He kissed her with a husk filled groan, fingers gripping the base of her neck and cock sliding through dripping folds…” A ruddy scarlet flush bloomed across his face, traveling rapidly to the tips of his ears—his eyes wide and lips parted.
Spit was smeared across crimson lips, his fingers finding a home on her waiting tongue—body curving over her pliant form with a moan. She was spread beneath him, eyes shining in anticipation, a cry tearing from the base of her elongated throat at the first thrust into her drooling cunt.
Eddie couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.
“You fucker!” you shouted, yanking the novel back with a sneer. “You don’t have to know everything.”
The sharp edge of your words spilled out onto deafened ears as he regarded you with dark eyes, teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to split it open. His cock twitched in his sweatpants, leaking into the boxers he knew he’d have to wash the second your attention was elsewhere.
It’s not that he had no self control—he did. Eddie prided himself on his restraint knowing how many times he could have kissed you, how many nights he watched you sleep and held back from caressing your cheek.
All his life he spent every fucking day keeping himself from begging you to take him, to break and ruin him beyond repair.
But at this very moment he felt another strand of the rope around his throat snap; the invasive feral need to have you—ravish you—pounded through his body. It screamed with intent. Clawed at his mind as images of you trapped in that same scenario began to shove their way to the forefront. You in his bed, lips forming around the letters of his name, the comfortable clothes you wore in a heap on the floor.
You taking his cock like the good fucking girl he knew you were.
The nice sweetheart he belonged to.
“We’re going out,” he said abruptly, biting harshly on the inside of his cheek. The sticky wet sensation in his sweatpants felt unbearable when you were here, his body aching to just let you touch him—to drop to his knees and let you have your way.
Except that felt too forward; that would scare you.
“Where?” you demanded, eyes narrowed at his blank face.
“Lunch.” His tongue swiped along the bitten and swollen bottom lip. “I’m starving.”
The audible click of your swallow seared into the back of his head, gratification pouring out into the open at the thought that you reacted to him. That your now flustered expression was due to him. He swiveled on his heel, bee lining for the bathroom as you stood in shock. Your heart thumping a rapid and unknown beat that spread down between the thigh clench of your thighs. You wanted to hear him rasp those words again. His eyes shadowed by the aching need of a man who hadn’t been laid in days.
Even if you could tell the book was the only thing to rile him up. That look alone would plague your dreams for months on end—your fingers working tirelessly to give you just enough.
You didn’t hear the thump of Eddie’s forehead hit the shower wall—his body humming with anticipation. Nor did you hear the gruff biting moan that bounced off tile, soon drowned out by water the second his hand wrapped around his already leaking and blushing cock. What control he clamped onto flew out of his body at the first pump of his fist, a wet grunt tumbling out of parted lips slick with his spit.
The last time he got off this fast reared in his mind. You prancing up and down a beach in a bikini, tits bouncing and the fat of your thighs rippling with each dash into the water. He came in his hand quick enough to make him go blind, his head fuzzy with the high of imagining you on your knees. Mouth parted to swallow his spend with soft breathy moans.
“Fuck,” he spit, thumb pressing beneath the head of his throbbing length.
Embarrassment should have washed over him by now—that twinge of shame tugging at his gut. But your flustered expression stamped itself behind his shut eyelids, desperation his base state in the confines of the small shower. For a brief second you wanted him. You yearned for him to keep going.
A stuttered moan ricocheted off the walls. No doubt loud enough to spill into the kitchen, but Eddie couldn’t fucking care. He was climbing towards a searing release, his body curling forward and hand pressed against the cold wall. The tremble of his thighs was the telltale sign that it would be over soon, but something shifted. Suddenly he wasn’t just thinking about you on the floor sucking him off to a quick conclusion.
Now he pictured you in the bedroom, bent over his kitchen counter as coffee brewed, on the floor of the living room strewn across a heap of blankets. He imagined you writhing in ecstasy with his name on your lips—your back bowed and head tipped as a cry wrenched from your throat. How his cock would slide into you with ease, slick pouring out to make a filthy mess between your sweaty bodies. He’d have you any way you wanted, but this he took for himself.
His imagination was his only solace in a life spent parted from you.
The stutter of your name ripped from his lips with a whine, the slap of his hand bouncing off the walls as he came with a hiss. Spilling over pale knuckles and washing down the drain with a sigh.
Pathetic wasn’t the word to describe how he felt the second he wrapped the towel around his waist, water dripping across the floor as he wiped down the fogged up mirror. He was the mud beneath a soldier's boots. The grime stuck to old cars left to rot in junkyards. Eddie had turned into a whimpering mess of a man at the mere thought of having you—yet he never tried to make that dream a reality.
“Nice going Alden,” he muttered, glaring at his flushed cheeks. “Fuckin’ up one day at a time huh.”
Jumping at the soft knock on the locked door, he felt his heart flutter at the lilt of your voice. Truly he was losing it—a hopeless case with no chance of being salvaged.
“Can I get in there Eddie?”
His teeth dug into his bottom lip, eyes rolling back at the violent twitch of his still sensitive cock. “Y-Yeah. ‘M done here.”
Wrenching the door open seemed to be a mistake given how close you were. Stumbling forward, your hand found purchase on his wet naked chest to steady yourself—the gasp filling his ears soft and high and everything he imagined. Your eyes dropped to the towel that hung low on his waist, the trail of hair leading beneath it, water dripping along the vein you’d seen before. Somehow up close it felt like more, like an invasion of privacy.
It startled you how much you craved to trace the shape of it with your tongue.
Heat flooded your face, hand falling to your side as he smirked, his arm propped against the door frame beside his head. “Take a picture kitten. You can frame it.”
Your face fell. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Getting to stare at yourself all day.”
“I wouldn’t not like it. Pretty sure I’ve got a camera around here somewhere.”
Shoving him to the side with a groan you set the small toiletries bag on the sink’s edge. “Maybe later. I’ve got to get ready.”
“We’re just going to lunch Kit.”
“Oh I know,” you replied. “But I’ve got a date tonight.”
There were times in his life Eddie wondered what torture felt like. A strange odd thought at the early age of twenty whilst watching a shitty action movie. But there standing two feet from the love of his life, he finally understood.
His heart dropped—stomach churning hard enough for a wave of bile to claw up his throat. He felt surprised he was still up on two feet, his mind reeling with the information you handed over with an air of joy. As if you couldn’t be more excited. Nails dug into his palm as he formed fists tight enough to hurt—the need to slam them into something (or someone) growing by the second.
You were going on a date.
A date.
With a man.
With someone that…wasn’t him.
“Who’s the lucky bastard?” he croaked, anger flaring in his tightening chest.
“Louie,” you said with a bashful smile, eyes bright and beautiful.
Eddie felt the knife slice through his chest, digging beneath the depths of where he could reach. Yet you still smiled without a care in the world. You couldn’t see him bleed before you, could barely notice the wound you inflicted, and he would never blame you for it. Because you were happy. You were overjoyed.
How could he rip that from you?
But even as the question crossed his mind he knew…he’d do it anyway.
The dress cinched your waist tight enough to expel the air from your lungs. Uncomfortable. Irritating. But flawlessly perfect with its velvet fabric that wrapped around you like a second skin—the maroon shade dark enough to match your lipstick. Within two hours you’d be desperate for it off, aching for the large t-shirt swiped from Eddie’s drawer and sweatpants that held enough coffee stains to change their color entirely.
You weren’t used to dressing up, primping and prepping for someone who may never tell you the words that lingered in the back of your mind. The heels dug into the back of your foot, black and awkward and everything you tried to avoid. You rooted around the bottom of your worn makeup bag, the mascara tube scratched and smudged. Even as you swiped it across your lashes you felt the burden of tonight settle heavy and palpable.
A guilt that stemmed from the very person outside this bathroom.
The man who built your idea of romance over the years—the knight in shining armor who might never come to your rescue.
Fidgeting with the hem of your dress, a silhouette cast in shadows appeared in your peripheral. Statuesque and hopeful with his arms crossed and spine stiff. You could feel the discomfort swirl in the air as he peeked his head around the corner for a small glimpse of what you were doing. At this point you couldn’t blame him. An hour and a half was definitely too long to spend in the bathroom.
“I can see you standing there,” you called, fixing the strap on your shoulder with a sigh. “If you needed the bathroom you could have told me.”
Heels clicked on the cement floor and the whisper of you sliding the zipper shut on your bag echoed in the relatively quiet living room. You passed him with a grin, tossing the essentials on the guest bed beside your coat. The color didn’t go with the dress—a disappointment you had no time to rectify—and borrowing one of Eddie's jackets would only send the wrong message.
The thump of his boots trailing behind you filled the space with a solemn farewell he had yet to bid you. He bit his tongue longer than you expected him to. No jesting or teasing. No jokes or shots taken on your behalf. For all intensive purposes Eddie Alden was suddenly at a loss for words—his blank expression and dark eyes throwing you for a loop that felt precarious.
He’d never done this; his mouth always moving faster than his own thoughts. A trait that got him into a fair bit of trouble back home. It’s what you had in common, what you were both known for.
Tonight however your playful Eddie was replaced by a man who watched you in complete and utter silence. A hawk trailing its prey. Which only made the hair stand on the back of your neck.
“For fucks sake,” you muttered, spinning to find him leaning against the door frame. The scrutinizing eyes you were unable to escape trailing down your velvet clad form. “Out with it you bastard.”
“Kit–”
“No. You’ve been tailing me all night since you heard about this date. So let it out, get all the jokes and sly comments out now before I leave. Because after tonight I’m not giving you the chance.”
With a heaving chest and wild eyes, you watched in utter shock as Eddie Alden…cracked a smile.
A fucking grin that stretched from one side of his face to the other. You should have felt peeved by the sheer nerve for him to pick at your temper this way, but the slow steps as he walked closer left your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. Warmth found a home in the base of your already thumping heart—your hands picking at the hem of your dress to distract from his slow gait.
He looked you up and down, sizing up your body with a soft chuckle, before knocking the tips of his boots to the front of your heels.
“You look beautiful tonight kitten.”
Breath felt nonexistent in a space as small as this. You searched for it, clamored for even a morsel of oxygen, but found yourself standing there—mouth parted and eyes wide—with empty hands.
Beautiful.
Eddie called you beautiful.
How could you respond to something so shifting? Life altering, world teetering. You hadn’t felt this hopeless for something to say since he dragged you to prom kicking and screaming with a tux wrapped around his body and a gown around yours. Where you might have laughed—called him out on whatever bullshit he would pull any other night—you instead were left with absolutely nothing in your arsenal of spiteful vernacular.
And he seemed to be thrilled with the speechless flustered woman before him.
“Cat got your tongue sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
Heat burned right down to your core, the strength in your knees suddenly weak and brittle. As if you didn’t know how to stand on your own.
“W-What?” you managed to choke out, unable to rip your gaze away from his glowing face.
“No response for my compliment?”
“Oh…um…”
He shuffled forward, knocking you back slightly. “I mean I was pretty nice and even if it is the truth don’t I deserve something nice back?”
Sucking in a breath, you felt the edge of the bed hit the back of your thigh. “Nice?”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I am your best friend after all.”
Best friend.
Cold water drenched the top of your head, pouring an icy reality check down your spine with enough sense to wrench you out of whatever twisted fantasy your mind was conjuring. He was fucking with you. Pulling this move on purpose to keep you from making it to your date on time. It should have irked you—should have sent you into a state of fury—yet you couldn’t help but wonder if something else was hidden beneath his saccharine words.
You scoffed, shoving at his chest and drank in the satisfaction when he stumbled back with a gaping mouth. “I’m gonna be late.”
“Wait but–” The echo of his footsteps rushing after yours resonated off the window panes. “I’ve got something to say to you.”
“Can’t it wait until later? I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
An audible snort reignited the flare of irritation in your chest. “Who? The joke of a guy from last night? You barely know him and don’t forget you came to New York to see me not to–”
Whirling around you met him with pent up emotions that began to spill over an already full cup. “Not to what? Not to have a good time on my terms? Not to go out with a man I actually like?”
“You don’t know him!”
“But that’s not your decision!” Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you swallowed the wave of hot tears that rushed to the surface. “You always do this to me Eddie. You drag me along in your adventures and yes I go willingly, but you never—not once—allowed me an adventure of my own. Why? Why can’t I choose for once in my life?”
Somehow the silence hurt more than anything he could have said. Any excuse he might have offered as a shitty apology that would never come. He simply stood there, unable to form a decent string of false promises he’d never live up to. And for the first time you welcomed that unnerving sense of clarity with a bitter wave of your hand.
No matter how much you yearned for it to be true, the reality would always remain the same.
Eddie Alden would never love you.
Not in the way you loved him. He’d never feel each piece of his heart fracture as you slowly and yet all at once slipped from his grasp. That was the truth and you accepted it with a resigned sigh of utter heartbreak.
“Stay,” he finally admitted, eyes shining with tears that would eventually dry up and vanish. “With me.”
“Eddie–”
“Stay here and we’ll talk about this. And I’ll order a pizza with jalapeños and make you shitty coffee and let you hit me and yell at me.” Moving swift enough to throw you off guard, he gathered your hands in his. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do to make this right.”
You wished it were enough.
You begged it to be enough.
But you’d taken too many hits from a love life that suddenly felt fictional in comparison to what he offered you tonight.
Pulling away with a sigh, you didn’t see his expression of false joy crack right down the center. “I’ve got to go Eddie.”
“But–”
“Don’t wait up, okay?”
The door shut with a thud that bounced off each wall, settling unevenly against his hammering heart. He felt sick to his stomach. The grief of losing you—of quite possibly fucking up the only good thing in his life—rushed to the surface. Clawing up his already burning esophagus with a hostility that consumed him. His mind screamed to run towards the open door of the bathroom; his body wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment.
But his feet remained glued to the floor. Eyes trained on his now shut door simply waiting for you to come back. To waltz in with a different opinion, to rehash an argument that festered in both your minds for far too long.
He could hear his own heartbeat and the rush of blood in his ears.
He could hear the horns blaring and people shouting as the city took on a new persona as night came calling.
He could hear every breath he took in, every stunted exhale he let out.
But you were nowhere to be found.
The leather jacket was gripped in his hand before he could think it through, keys shoved into his pocket without realizing it. He acted on fear. The terrifying knowledge that this was it. That the moment he’d been waiting for all his life passed by and he fucking blew it. He watched it crash to the floor and made no attempt to save would could have been.
This love was written in the stars long before you met one another. The makeup of your hearts were carved directly into the makeup of the universe, forged by celestial beings and stray comets colliding together. You were more than best friends, more than soul mates. You were split down the center, always meant to find your other half in the touch of one another. If only he could make you see that.
Heavy footfalls echoed off the stairwell as he rushed out onto the busy street and into the icy cold. This wasn’t Eddie Alden the adult fuck up rushing after yet another notch in his belt. This was the boy who held you when you cried. The teenager who walked you home after classes. The high schooler who dragged you to parties you never wanted to go to. The football player who sprinted directly to you when they won each and every time.
The man whose heart was etched in the letters of your name.
Bundling the coat around your neck tight enough to stop the chill from seeping into your skin, you dashed into the open entryway of the restaurant Louie talked about last night. A fancy space filled to the brim with sparkling holiday decor, a tree that towered over you, and waiters dressed fancier than the patrons. You felt out of place the second you crossed the threshold. A fish out of water and dropped into waters that didn’t belong to you.
It shouldn’t have deterred you. A man wishing to take you somewhere magnificent on a first date; something you hoped might happen one day.
“You’re here!”
Louie Parker seemed to blend right into the glamour and opulence in a three piece suit—a golden chain dangling from his waistcoat and wool overcoat folded over one arm. He belonged. A member of a society you may never find yourself in again, but for tonight you met his stunning smile with a sheepish grin and cheeks filled with blossoming warmth.
“Sorry for being late. I couldn’t find the place,” you said, choosing to ignore Eddie’s blatant act of annoyance.
He shrugged, leading you to a coat check stand as if this were second nature—perhaps to him it was. “You’re new to the city. Bound to get lost at times.”
“You’ve got no idea.”
“Our table is safe.” He tossed a grin over his shoulder—effortless enough to throw you off balance. “I ordered a bottle of wine beforehand. Something decadent.”
“Wine’s good.” The words slipped off your tongue awkwardly as you handed off the coat with a soft thank you.
“I promise it is.” How his eyes trailed along the shape of your dress wasn’t lost on you, nor was the shift of his shoulders in his attempt to stand taller. “You’re stunning.”
The word should have made your heart flutter. It should have elicited the exact same response Eddie’s softly spoken beautiful did. Yet all you could offer him was a tight smile layered in a false air of hope diminished and dashed long before you entered this place.
He wasn’t Eddie. He’d never be Eddie. And you loathed that all it took was that simple fact for your heart to grow disinterested before the night truly began.
“I didn’t think I’d get to wear it on this trip,” you admitted, speaking directly to his back as you trailed after him to the table.
He spared you a glance and yet another smile. “I’m glad you did.”
“For your benefit or mine?” The tease felt wrong when directed at him. It felt like a lie.
“Mine I hope.”
Digging your teeth into your bottom lip to swallow the grimace, you shifted in the seat. “Guess you’re lucky.”
“I’m luckier than most.” His words were punctuated with a hand gesturing to the nearest waiter. “I think we’re ready.”
Floundering, you dug through the menu as Louie tossed his already thought out order into the air. There didn’t seem to be any reason for rushing, but there you were. Forced to quickly choose a meal before you even settled fully into your seat. The waiter glanced at you, eyes flashing with a look you’d seen before. A piteous apology he couldn’t say out loud.
You were stuck with a man who couldn’t see how out of place you felt. Someone who didn’t know how to read your pages.
“And for you miss?”
“Um…I’ll take–”
“She’ll have the same. Steak medium rare with an extra glass for champagne at the end.”
With that he signed off on what you were denying the whole way here. You weren’t meant to be sitting here with a man more interested in showing you off than asking what you wanted. But silence was all you could muster, swallowing the bitter wine with a hidden choked sneer of disgust. You longed for jalapeños on pizza and shitty beer and the promise of a good movie on Eddie’s horrible couch.
Oh how you’d rather be holed up in that apartment.
“So do you work?” he asked offhandedly, pouring another glass of wine for you.
“I do,” you replied, nails digging into your palm to stave off snarling at him with a rudeness Eddie would have enjoyed.
“Good. I prefer women who work.”
The meal dragged on the longer he spoke, barely giving you a chance to respond before he started up again. Topics you could barely keep up with, statements that felt one sided and drastically different than what you believed. Until finally you were halfway through chewing with a steak that cost more than your plane ticket and Louie directed his questions to you.
A surprising turn of events given his track record through the whole evening. You were annoyed, the dress dug into your waist, and the heels felt restricting even as you sat still and silent. A doll primed to perfection for a place that would have otherwise tossed you out.
“So you’re in New York with your friend?”
Swallowing the food with a sip of warm water, you nodded. “Yeah my best friend Eddie.”
Louie hummed. “Your best friend is a guy?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Did you two ever date?”
The itch to toss the remainder of your wine in his face grew by the second. “No we haven’t. We’re just friends.”
Another soft hum left his throat—another strike on your tally of shitty responses. “I just wanted to make sure. Don’t want to enter a state of drama in case things went further between us.”
“Further…”
“I have tickets to The Nutcracker in three days.” His hand slid across the table, laying over yours with a warmth that felt wrong. “I was hoping you would go with me.”
“Oh…”
“You could wear this dress again if you want.”
“Louie…”
His grip tightened, smile widening at your hesitancy. “You’ll be the prettiest guest there.”
“I’m not sure…” A flash of a man bursting through the doors caught your eye—a whirlwind of commotion that left you distracted for a moment.
Eddie’s face came into view, slightly red and distraught as the hostess attempted to grab his attention. He stood with his hair ruffled and clothes in disarray, eyes scanning the tables for someone. Until he landed on the one person who watched him with a flicker of need. The world melted away, Louie’s voice now a muffled echo in the background, as Eddie smiled wide enough to outdo all the shining lights in the room.
Any piece of decor paled in comparison when he looked at you as if nothing else of importance mattered. You were here, sitting in a red dress, and Eddie could feel hope surge in his chest.
Louie pulled you back to the present moment before you caught Eddie slipping past the front. Directing his way to the table and dragging a spare chair behind him he set it up at the edge of your table, plopping into the seat with a grin—shedding his jacket with ease. Like he’d been invited all along. You were irritated, angry about the stupid fight from earlier, but a small piece of you that longed to be rescued now rejoiced at his presence.
“Can I help you man?” Louie demanded, fingers tight around your wrist.
“No,” Eddie replied. “Just came to get some extra time with my best friend.”
Louie scoffed. “Alright come on, you can give her one night out without you clinging to her.”
“Am I clinging?” Eddie turned to you with a deep faux frown. “Kitten, you'd tell me if you needed space right?”
“Do us a favor and fuck off,” Louie snapped.
You flinched, pulling away the second his attention was off you. Unfortunately Eddie caught onto it with a grim expression and fists curled against his thighs. Always the protector, the dog with a fucking bone. Some days you relished in his nature to keep you safe, to snarl and bite at anyone who dared to pick on his favorite person. But tonight his otherwise cherished nature suffocated you where you sat.
He drowned you in the waters of his familial love as romance slipped between your fingers like sand.
“I’d watch your fucking tone,” Eddie warned, turning his glare to your date. “There’s a lady present.”
A biting laugh echoed in the still air—Louie finally reaching past the limit of tolerance. “She told me you guys didn’t date, but of course she fucking lied.”
“No I didn’t–” You gaped, sitting upright at his accusatory tone.
“You don’t have to lie for him sweetheart.”
Anger burned hot and painful in your chest, growing the longer you sat there stuffed between two men who couldn’t give a shit if you were hurting. With a sharp intake of breath, you snatched your purse off the floor and headed towards the coat check—leaving them behind to gather some sort of fresh air. Even as Eddie no doubt followed with blatant intent in every step he took.
You couldn’t take this anymore. The push and pull of a best friend who would never let you go. He’d never allow you to find a life that didn’t include him.
He’d never let you move on.
Tears spilled over before you could stop them, your fingers shaking as you tied the coat at your waist. The cold air filled with the stench of gasoline and nicotine became what you latched onto. A way to drag yourself back to the shore; a chance to survive Eddie’s dark waters before you were swallowed whole by them. He called your name while you walked, rushing to catch up with your quick pace—the heels doing nothing but slowing you down.
“Kitten wait!”
The familiar touch of his hand on your arm set off the wave of fury desperate to topple over. You turned with a shout, ripping away from his hold with a curse loud enough to startle him back.
“You are unbelievable!”
“Kit–”
“Do me the favor and shut the fuck up for once! It was a date. A date! That’s it! I get that you can’t handle when the attention isn’t focused on you and when I’m pulled somewhere else, but you had no right to act like an asshole!”
Heaving in a gasping breath, you watched as his pained expression blurred with the wave of fresh tears. “I can’t do this Eddie. I can’t live half a life until you decide to finally give up on our friendship.”
“That’s not why I showed up–”
You laughed, bitter and loud enough to garner looks, but you were past the point of caring. “No? You didn’t show up to embarrass me? You didn’t fuck up the one chance I had at a romantic relationship because you weren’t included in the choice I made?”
“No I didn’t,” he retorted. “And even if I did, why don’t you just admit it? Huh? You weren’t having fun on this fucking date anyways.”
“Why because you said so?” you shouted.
“I know you better than anyone.”
“Oh that’s rich. Just because you’ve known me longer doesn’t make you the final hammer in the nail that is my life. Mine Eddie! My life! Not yours!” Throwing your hands up at the first advancing step in your direction, you turned away from the man who saved you with the intent on ripping you open for an autopsy you never asked for.
A surgery of your still beating heart.
“Let me explain myself, would you?” he called, chasing after you down the sidewalk. “But of course you won’t, because you always run. You’ve run away from me your whole life!”
“Fuck you Alden!”
Down city sidewalks and past groups of people having fun, Eddie followed you every step of the way. Though his words died down, the anger dropping to a slow simmer in your chest, he still remained behind you—his hands tucked into his jacket pockets and eyes trained on the slight wince of your body with each step. The heels were digging sharply into your already raw skin but you refused to give him the satisfaction of helping you.
Not when the apartment was so close. Mentally you formulated a list of things to get done before your flight in a day. Pack your bags, flip Eddie off, cuss him out until the sun came up, and leave him behind as you stewed in your heartache and fury.
He couldn’t fight his way back into your good graces today. Certainly not during this trip.
This didn’t come from nowhere—you were entirely aware of that fact. The anger that spewed out of every word dipped in vitriol and pain stemmed from the deepest parts of your pining heart that screamed for him. A piece of yourself you buried continuously over years of hope. Time that you might never get back. You loved him without end, begged silently on every star that he might one day feel the same way. Only to understand he was stuck in his old ways.
Merely a boy loitering around in the body of a man.
Someone who never found the time to grow up—to become the man you needed.
The stairwell echoed with your footsteps, a melancholy beat to a song that should have ended long ago. Your time was up. The clock had run its course. And all that remained was the final goodbye to a friendship that began to fall apart long before you came to New York.
“Please talk to me.” The soft lilt of his voice nearly made you jump as he shut the door behind him.
“I’m tired Eddie.”
“We’re not done with this.”
Pain felt familiar in this moment, a new push of rage finding its footing in your weary form. “Give it up would you?”
He gripped your arms, turning you with a bruising yank that shoved the breath from your lungs. “I’ll never give up on you Kit. Don’t you get that? Giving up stopped being an option the day I met you.”
“Why?” you yelled, shoving at his chest. “Why can’t you let me go? Why do you have to keep me in this fucked up pattern of friendship? Don’t you get that it hurts Eddie? It hurts to see you chase after women, it hurts to never get a chance to do the same with someone else!”
“Tell me why,” he begged. “Tell me why it hurts. Keep yelling at me. Keep calling me a fucking asshole. Just talk to me. Please.”
“No!” Finally free from his touch, you stumbled back into the counter—your face a mess of tears. “You are an asshole. You’re the reason I can’t move on with my life! You’re stuck in my veins and I can’t get rid of you! The most pathetic childish man who can’t seem to handle his best friend finally getting a life of her own. Well I’m sorry Eddie but things don’t revolve around you.”
What little breath you had dissipated as you heaved between choked sobs. You knew he would leave your life eventually. You knew he’d get bored with the friend he barely saw in person. But this felt like torture—an agony he refused to take accountability for.
“Why?” you sobbed brokenly. “Why do you want to hurt me so much? What did I do to make you so angry that I’m finally moving on?”
“I’m not angry.”
“Then let me go!” You wiped roughly at your cheeks, uncaring that he stepped close enough to touch you. “Why can’t you let me–”
“Because I love you!”
Gaping stupidly at him the words failed to process—silence swallowing you before you could even fight against it. “What?” you whispered.
Chilled hands cupped your cheeks tenderly, his forehead falling to rest on yours—cold nose pressed to your frozen one. “I can’t let you go cause I’m fucking in love with you kitten. I’m yours.”
“Eddie?”
“I’ve been yours since I pushed you in that damn mud.” His sigh was warm, washing across your face and filling you with the wake up call you needed. “Through everything, through all the games you came to and nights on my roof.”
Disbelief colored your world as you gazed up at him, fingers curling around his wrists. “You…love me?”
He nodded, leaning close enough for his lips to brush yours. “Desperately baby.”
“You love me,” you murmured, lashes fluttering as he tilted you closer.
“I do.” Sighing, he pinned you to the counter until you had nowhere to go—no escape from the man who longed to wrap himself around you. “Let me kiss you, yeah? Can I kiss you? I’ve been dreamin’ about it since high school.”
Since high school. Since…
At this point you couldn’t tell if you were standing in the midst of reality or if your mind started to play tricks on you. Even as he said the words they felt misplaced. A way to keep you there instead of explaining himself. But for once you finally divulged in the dream you’d been harboring since childhood. An extraordinary moment of romance—a bliss you might never get again.
Catching him off guard you leaned up and slotted your lips against his with a soft sigh. He met you with a sharp inhale, fingers digging into your jaw as he kissed you back with a fervor that threw you off guard. His lips were chapped with the cold yet warm enough to soothe every ache in your body. Each sliver of pain now a fading memory with the swipe of his tongue along your bottom lip.
You should have pulled away. You should have forced him to talk, to explain everything in great detail. But the feel of his hands sliding down your back knocked every ounce of sense from your mind as need took over the cognitive choice for your actions.
His tongue found yours with a hoarse moan, your fingers twining into his hair still mussed by the weather outside. A sharp tug had him careening forward, his hand slapping against the counter behind you—a wet groan swallowed by the soft whine wrenched from the base of your throat.
You never thought kissing him would feel so exhilarating. You were nothing but a sharp bundle of nerves ready to be set alight with each touch, each lick into your mouth.
“Eddie,” you gasped, his mouth finding purchase at the side of your neck. Teeth scraping the soft skin and hands digging into the plush flesh of your ass.
“Stay with me,” he begged, hips canting against yours as a dizzy side effect of kissing your best friend rose to the surface. “Let me love you.”
“But the argument–”
“Fuck the argument,” he growled, biting down on your bottom lip. “Let me not be an idiot anymore.”
Your lashes fluttered, mouth falling open with the soft touch of his tongue sliding against yours. A heady moan dripped onto his taste buds, needy and wanting as you gripped his hair hard enough to elicit a sharp slice of pain. His cock throbbed in his jeans, mind hazy with the taste of wine off your tongue, but Eddie could feel the hesitancy in your veins. The knowledge that his words left you unsure of his emotions—lost in the sea he dragged you into.
He loved you painfully.
With every fiber of his being that slowly ripped itself to pieces at the thought of you never knowing the truth. You needed to know his heart beat for you. That his entire body screamed in agony at the lack of your touch—the need of more ripping at his chest.
He was yours to do away with.
Yours to toy with.
Yours to love and cherish.
However you wished to have him, he’d do it. Eddie would fall to his knees with the prayer of your name on his lips—begging to drink from your crystalline waters with the parched tongue of a dying man. He was in agony until you looked at him. Offering your own love on a silver platter.
“Can I?” he whispered, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“Can you what?” you asked dazedly, lips swollen and slick with saliva. The sight made him voracious for more. For the sight of you coated in his spit.
He grinned, stealing another kiss with a whimpered sigh. “Can I love you how you deserve baby?”
The nod was subtle, a slight shifting of your head as glazed eyes darkened by lust met his searing gaze. But it was all he needed for his lips to find yours again, hands leading you into a stumbling walk to the guest bedroom lined with your things. He dug for the zipper of your dress, tugging it down quickly as you wrapped your arms around his neck—intent on keeping his mouth on yours.
A soft breathy moan emanated from your parted lips when his bare hands touched the skin of your back, sliding the velvet fabric off your body until it pooled in a heap at your feet. Nerves leapt beneath layers of hot flushed skin, your heart a ramming echo in the silence of a room filled only with his breaths.
But you heard him loud and clear.
The soft uttered fuck of a man who acted like he just witnessed a religious miracle. He was doomed the second your eyes finally opened to find his gaze. Pupils dilated and mouth open as he drank in the sight of you.
“You’re…” Sucking in a breath, he slid a hand over your stomach up to where the lace of your bra connected in the center with a jeweled bow. “Perfect.”
Rucking up his t-shirt, you let him kiss the breath out of your lungs. You fell into his hold with ease, because this was your path. Life led you straight to him, holding your hand through the heartache, promising you love at the end of it all. You just never expected his love would burn this way—a needy ache that built and built until you were ready to detonate. A hand curled around your thigh, hitching it over his thigh as he dropped you to the mattress.
His shirt beside your dress and jeans unbuttoned as they hung off his hips. With a shuddered breath you traced the vein along his stomach, smiling at the way his muscles contracted. A shudder running down his spine. He gasped, tongue sliding between your breasts—teeth nipping at the flesh with a growl.
“Wanna taste you.” Grinding his hips down hard enough for his cock to catch on the wet spot of your black cotton panties, he grinned at the soft cry that echoed by his ear.
Dragging him back up with a fist in his hair, you licked along his back teeth—hooking your other leg over his hip. “You already have baby.”
“Oh fuck,” he gasped.
Baby.
You’d never said that before, your voice pitched high and hazy with a hunger that curled at the base of his spine. Devouring you the way he wanted might be too much for you to handle.
He certainly didn’t want to scare you. Not when he’d been dreaming of this moment since his adolescence. But the thought of pounding you into the mattress, your melodious cries bouncing off the walls and the wet squelch of your pussy drove him to the brink of insanity.
“Say it again.” His teeth latched onto your nipple through the lace, sucking with a groan.
“Baby–” The pad of his fingers slid through the slick mess over the soft fabric, circling your clit hard. “Eddie!”
He smiled. “Want to taste you the right way.”
That unfamiliar high began to pull at your insides, spilling into veins and latching onto the base of your spine. He pulled the soaking scrap of cotton to the side, his thumb finding the source of absolute bliss and toying with it mercilessly. As if he wanted you unable to form coherent sentences. Your legs shook, hips meeting the gentle touch of his fingers.
“Look at her.”
The haze in your mind muffled the sound of his voice—his words taking a second to fully register. Until you realized who he was talking about. Or rather what.
“Gorgeous fuckin’ girl,” he muttered, transfixed by the drooling slick that clung to the lips of your cunt. Smearing it down to your fluttering hole, he felt the familiar wash of starvation creep back in.
He licked his teeth like a wild animal, panting at the sight of you so spread open and vulnerable. Your bottom lip was sucked into your mouth to muffle the wanting cries that slipped free anyways. Fuck what he wouldn’t give to keep you here past the point of no return.
“Want you to—ah—” Teeth found the inside of your thigh as his finger slipped in with ease. “Fuck. Y-Yes.”
“Yeah?” Another pressed in tight, his palm sticky as he plunged them in a quick paced rhythm.
Pitched high and cresting at the top of your lungs, his name rang through the room, the hot slide of his tongue through your folds pulsing heat between spaces in your body you didn’t know could exist. He sucked at your clit with a moan, nose buried in your mound and eyes bleary with an overwhelming need. The taste of you drove him feral, the squelch of his fingers as they found that patch along your walls loud enough to drown out anything else.
Eddie knew he’d never get enough once he got a taste. He just never expected it to feel this consuming.
“I’m fuck–” Gripping his hair, you dragged yourself along his tongue, biting back a cry of his name. He fell into it—drowned in your cunt with a hoarse moan. “G-Gonna. Eddie–”
“Please,” he mumbled, sucking at your clit with a sloppy languid kiss. “C’mon give it to me.”
“Wait,” you rushed out. He stilled at your touch, fingers still buried knuckle deep while you dragged the words to the forefront of your mind. “I need…”
Kissing your thigh softly, he nuzzled the skin with a satisfied sigh. “What do you need baby?”
“You.”
“You’ve got me.”
“Up here.” If your mind was in the right state you might have winced at how pathetic you sounded. But Eddie leapt at the softly whispered request, crawling up your body with the drag of his lips against skin—his tongue following, tasting the salt of your sweat.
Finding your mouth with a hum, he let you explore the tang of yourself off his tongue. That burning flame roaring to life at the sight of his chin coated in you. His hazel eyes were swallowed by the darkened pupil. The only time you’d seen him this way was after football games when the adrenaline was high and you were intent on celebrating in shitty burger shops. Which later turned into hole in the wall bars.
He ate your body and soul with one look. A man who lost all sense the second you kissed him in the kitchen. Even if you were still unsure of the verity of his words.
“I want you to fuck me,” you breathed against his lips, hoping the sultry echo of your voice was strung with each syllable.
Eddie fell over your with a harsh groan, fisting the sheets as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. “You—fuck baby.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
“Wrong?” he chuckled. The flicker of distress clouded your mind, a different kind of sensation pulsing in at the top of your chest. But Eddie caught it before you could open your mouth, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a zeal that shocked you.
This kiss was different. No reverence bled through the sharp bite of his teeth against your lip. This was Eddie pouring gasoline on your shame and burning it with the flick of a match. He sucked the breath out of your mouth, replacing it with his own until you were sure you’d never breathe right again. Pulling away, you felt him chase after your lips with a hoarse growl—his body settling over yours before you could move.
“You can’t say shit like that to me,” he gasped.
“But I thought–”
A bruising grip around your wrist cut off the meek response—the coarse hair at the base of his stomach filling your mouth with saliva. He guided your hand beneath the elastic of the black boxers, the hot sticky head of his cock brushing your palm. Your eyes went wide, mouth falling open as he moaned loud enough to echo towards the kitchen—his brows furrowed and teeth bared.
“Oh…”
He grinned, letting you touch him gently, the soft pads of your hesitant fingers enough to stimulate him close to the edge. “Gonna make me cum in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager.”
Stroking him slowly, you watched with a prideful sense of exhilaration when he crumbled to pieces before your very eyes.
He hissed through his clenched teeth, fucking your clumsy version of a tight fist. Although that didn’t seem to matter to him. All he gave a shit about was that you were the one touching him. You were getting him off with dewy wide eyes and a mouth he dreamed of having around his throbbing cock.
“Shit,” he grunted, leaking over your skin at the soft gasp you uttered. “W-Wait. Hang on.”
Ripping himself free, he sucked in a breath with eyes squeezed shut and body stiff as a board. Somehow his experience didn’t seem to matter when it came down to you. All the years building his stamina vanished at the first pump of your hand, and Eddie held back his quickly rising orgasm by the skin of his fucking teeth.
Trembling above you, he managed to right himself enough to keep going. That still didn’t stop his cock from twitching at the sight of your parted lips—gaze burning into the side of his face.
“You’re dangerous kitten,” he finally said, pushing his jeans down and tugging at your panties before you could offer a response. “I want that off too.”
You nodded, undoing your bra quickly and failing to notice how his eyes immediately dropped to your breasts finally exposed. Eddie was dumbfounded. Mouth open as spit pooled on his tongue and eyes glazed over with the sight of you naked beneath him. You smiled at the blush that crept over his cheeks, spreading down to the top of his chest—his fingers digging harshly into the thin sheet he’d tear eventually.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, swallowing thickly at how your chest bounced with each shift of your body.
The wet heat of his mouth on your nipple surprised you, his hand twisting and tugging the other. Your back arched, nails clawing at his back but that’s not what dragged out another side of you—unmistakable in the flutter of your heart. A part of yourself that buried itself beneath years of pain. It burst forward, snatching what he gave you with a greed you swallowed happily.
His cock sliding through your slick had your head tipping back, hips shifting to catch any pressure on your pulsing clit. Eddie seemed to understand long before you could wrench the words out of your chest. The pad of his thumb found the bud, his mouth a hot cavern against the skin of your breast—other hand shifting to line himself up where you needed him most.
Reality dawn on you then.
The weight of this moment. A dream you held for near a decade.
Cupping his face, he fixed you with the heady glaze of lust that mirrored your own. That untenable feeling flowing from your chest to his—a permanent mark of forever you finally managed to unearth. He sunk in slowly with shallow thrusts and caught your lips in a kiss you felt down to your toes. Love, heartbreak, longing, it all collided at the back of your mind. Shining with a glow that left you breathless.
Doubt begged to rear its ugly head, but Eddie demolished it with a final short thrust—his hips settling atop yours. Sex wasn’t unknown to you. Merely a quick itch to scratch in your years of loneliness. But you’d never experienced being so full.
“That’s it,” he murmured softly, circling your clit to loosen your tight walls. “Let her open up for me.”
“Move,” you gulped. “Need you to–”
Pulling out he shoved his way back in with a harsh bitten out curse against the skin of your throat. The pleasure blinded you. Each thrust short and wet enough to echo in the room. He gripped your hips as he moved, slowly and then all at once. As if he couldn’t fathom the thought of sliding out of you completely—the heat of your cunt drawing him back in before he knew what was happening.
Eddie lost himself in you. He groaned and sunk his teeth into your shoulder and fucked you the best he could. And you cried against his neck, clinging to his back with each roll of his hips into yours. Something wound tight in your stomach, that oh so familiar sensation of bliss and you chased it. You spread your legs wider, your nails digging into his lower back, as the head of his cock brushed right where you needed.
The high whine he ripped from you had his head flying up from your neck—eyes glimmering with a wild haze that should have scared you.
“There it is,” he grinned—grinding down until you sobbed his name. “She’s singin’ for me, kitten.”
Sobbing a string of incoherent pleas, you felt him do it again. Slamming into it with an accuracy that shook you to your core. Come morning an array of red lines would be marked across his back, but the rasping shout of your name told you he liked it.
He soaked in the sharp pricks of pain as his balls began to draw up, heat building on his spine with insistence. But he was greedy and wanton and the thought of you never finishing first drove him off the edge.
Fucking down into you, he witnessed your face crumple with the intensity of it all. Your mouth permanently formed around the broken cry of his now incoherent name. Skin slapped against skin, the wet echo of your cunt sucking him back in spilled into every crevice of his apartment. And Eddie felt himself nearly fly off that tantalizing edge.
“Need you to cum right now,” he snarled, slapping your clit softly.
The air caught in your lungs, thighs trembling as he did it again, splashing your wet slick along his stomach. Yet no matter how hard you reached for that high you couldn’t grasp it in your hands. You longed to tell him—shout what you needed, but the words were lost to your dizzying state of ecstasy.
His lips sealed over yours, fingers pinching your clit. “I love you kitten. Fuck. I love you.”
Your back arched, walls clamping around his cock tight enough to hurt, as you came with a broken sob he swallowed. It poured through you like lava. Burning you alive with a mind numbing bliss you’d never be able to live without—an addiction settling into your veins. He panted into your mouth, crying out like he’d been scorched with the same fire, and followed you off that cliff.
The hum in your ears set in before you could hear the string of mumbled I love you’s he pressed against your tongue, his cum dribbling out and making a mess you could feel between your thighs.
He collapsed with a grunt, face burrowed into your neck as you tried to catch your breath. The thump of your heart finally in sync with his. Sparks trailed down your body where he touched you, fingers kneading soft skin, lips sliding up your throat with the last licks of his hunger. A man starved for the love of his life. He was helpless in your post coital presence, unable to even think straight while his cock softened inside you.
But he knew this would happen. He knew he’d never be able to let you go after this—forever attached to your heart with an invisible string now wound into a knot.
“Stay here with me,” he whispered against your lips.
Stay.
Even with the thick fog that filled your head you couldn’t deny that was what you truly wanted. This was the forever you always longed for. So why couldn’t you accept it without a hint of doubt? Why couldn’t your own mind settle on the words he spoke like a prayer. Something you always dreamed he’d whisper to you in the middle of the night.
You blinked up at him, brows furrowed until he kissed them with a grin. “Okay,” you said, hoping it would click the final piece into place.
The tears are what woke you up. A flood you couldn’t control, wave after wave that poured down your cheeks and stained the pillow beneath you. Though the dream remained a translucent memory right on the fringes of your mind, you knew what it was. A rendition your mind never seemed to let go of.
Eddie saying goodbye on his way to New York. Eddie making the choice of a different life.
Eddie leaving you behind.
His snores filled the room with a gentle echo you sunk into, his arm wrapped around your waist and face buried in the back of your neck. A morning you never thought you’d get. A dream finally come true.
You wanted to smile, to wake him up with another round, but the pain in your heart grew the longer you lay there in silence. The problem wasn’t last night or even what he said. The problem was what came next. You couldn’t just leave your hometown and Eddie would never make the choice to let go of New York. A city that burrowed itself deep in his heart, carving into the space that belonged to you.
This would always be his path.
A man with a future far too big to give it all up for a girl from his past.
You didn’t belong in New York. You knew that now.
Swallowing the harsh sob, you managed to wrangle yourself out of his grip, gathering a fresh pair of clothes to change into. But the sight of him splayed on the bed, sheets around his waist and arm tossed over his head left you breathless. A picturesque painting come to life. He was your muse, your whole heart on display for the world to see. The person embedded in your very DNA.
You would love him until the day you died.
And even after that.
The small suitcase remained packed near the dresser, your dress from last night a forgotten memory that lay strewn on the floor. You left it behind as you shoved on the only jacket you owned, your purse and wallet gathered next. The pulse of your racing heart nearly forced you to sit down somewhere and gather your thoughts. Yet if you did that…you’d never buck up the courage to finally let him go.
This wasn’t fair to him. You knew that.
You knew Eddie would fight you on going, his words lingering like a bruise on your heart. The softly whispered I love you still scratched into your skin. He loved you. He loved you.
He…loved you.
So why couldn’t you accept that? Why were you taking one final glance as the door shut behind you with its familiar thud. Loud enough to echo off the empty stairwell? Though you’d never say aloud, you knew the truth.
Fear.
The type of fear that clung to every breath, choking you from the inside out. You didn’t know how to love someone who finally loved you back. After so long pining, you suddenly felt like you were sailing out into the treacherous open waters of a heart you didn’t actually know. He loved you and yet there you were acting like a coward and running from the promise of more. The hope of a life fully lived.
Eddie jolted awake with the thud of the door, his body catching up with sluggish thoughts that filtered through his mind. Half awake and bleary, he reached for the other side of the bed expecting to find your curled up body on the edge of the mattress. Always pulling away in the middle of the night, always running. He grinned, blinking away the last dregs of sleep, and found an empty room.
“Baby?” he asked, leaning on his hands.
His gaze darted to spaces in the room that once held your things. The suitcase by the dresser, the purse on the desk. The jacket draped over a singular chair. Only to find nothing but the dust outline that remained. Eddie’s heart stuttered, stomach rolling painfully, as he clambered out of the bed and pulled up his jeans still in a heap on the floor.
Beside your dress.
“Baby!” The kitchen was empty, void of any life and Eddie frantically searched the fridge for a note, for that key he gave you.
It was discarded by the coffee machine, sitting in the lonesome shine of the afternoon sun.
“Shit,” he whispered, the burn of tears cresting.
Rushing to grab his things, he didn’t bother to check if the door was locked before sprinting down the stairs. Nearly tripping on his way down. You couldn’t have left him behind after last night. You weren’t capable of that kind of pain—that amount of soul crushing agony. Yet you endured it all through his time in New York. You listened to him ramble about his life here, about the women he never outrightly told you about—the memories that didn’t include you.
He left you behind without a second thought.
How could he think you wouldn’t do the same?
“Taxi!” he shouted, grabbing the nearest one to him with a panicked rushed out order to take him to the nearest airport.
The only place you could have gone.
“Where to miss?”
Sighing, you offered a tight lipped smile and set the worn suitcase by your feet. The chatter of the airport blended together, forming a mad rush of emotions you’d never witnessed before today. People coming home from a flight. Families going out for the holidays. Lives that rushed past you even as you stood still at the counter, explaining the details of how you’d like to move up your flight date.
A chance to get home before any bad weather sets in. Half a life.
“Perfect,” the attendant replied with a grin. “There’s one in twenty minutes. You can head straight to security.”
“Thank you. And happy holidays.”
You were given a curt nod in response, their arm extended to your gate number. The final goodbye to a life half lived.
“Can you hurry up please?” he begged, glancing at the line of traffic that eventually led to the front.
“I’m goin’ as fast as I can buddy.”
Eddie sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Alright yeah. Here’s fine.” He tossed the cash on the passenger seat, swinging the door open before the car stopped. “Thanks! And happy holidays!”
His boots pounded on the pavement lined with melting snow, people moving out of his way as he ran fast enough to nearly bowl them over. Apologies flew out of his mouth left and right, the edge of his jacket catching on stray luggage and shoulders slamming into groups of people. He couldn’t give them a second thought as he sprinted faster. His mind entirely and solely focused on the other half of his heart.
The piece that refused to beat without you there.
Even though he wracked his brain on the drive here he still couldn’t understand why you left. What made you decide to turn tail and run? Until it suddenly hit him hard enough to bruise the inside of his chest.
You never said you loved him.
He repeated the words over and over until his tongue went numb and lips went raw from kissing you. But never—not once—did you say it back. Did you love him? Did you want him? Or were you simply rushed into something without knowing what it was. That alone made him sick with fear. The thought that you didn’t want what happened last night and simply gave into him based on his need alone.
“C’mon kitten where are you,” he muttered, glancing at the lines of people that stretched on for miles.
“It’s just clothes,” you said, heaving it up onto the table. “Nothing unusual.”
“Good,” the man curtly responded, unzipping the suitcase with a sharp tug. Eventually you would have to find a new piece of luggage, but leaving again might not happen for quite some time. At least until you gathered the courage to finally flee your hometown. “Seems like it all checks out.”
You grinned, unable to make it reach your eyes. “Thanks.”
“You can go on to your gate.”
“Excuse me, where can I find this flight?” Eddie frantically asked the attendant at the front desk, his eyes still scanning the never ending crowd.
“Straight to the back. But you’ll need a ticket–”
He was gone before they could finish their sentence, his heart jumping with each step he took. The blaring echo of people everywhere he looked set his teeth on edge, his eyes burning with unshed tears as he searched for you everywhere he was able to see.
Rushing past groups of families and friends bidding their farewells, he finally spotted a familiar worn out brown suitcase gripped tight at the side of the final step in his path.
“KIT!” he shouted, watching with bated breath as you stilled, body going stiff at the sound of his voice.
With a gasping breath, you turned on your heel, catching sight of a ruined and broken version of the man you belonged to. The man who held your heart in his hands. Who could shatter you upon contact if you weren’t careful. He’d be the one to destroy you, but oh how you longed to be ripped apart by him. Oh how you ached to be that broken toy he did his best to fix—the stained glass window he might piece back together.
“Eddie, what are you doing here?”
“Stopping you,” he harshly breathed, striding towards you. “You’re gonna stand there and you’re going to fucking listen this time.”
“I’ve got a flight–”
“Do me a favor a shut the fuck up,” he cut you off, lips curling into a smile that sucked every ounce of willpower out of your limbs.
Your mouth clamped shut, eyes going wide as he finally reached you. His hand wrenching the suitcase out of your grip without even asking. But Eddie was done asking. He was done with appeasing others.
The boy torn to shreds by the hands of a father who never loved him. Only to be put back together by the girl who did.
“I asked you to stay.”
The dip of your head and frown painted across lips he could still taste shattered his strength. “I know Eddie. I just…”
“You just didn’t think I would say I love you?”
Your eyes met his, a fire flickering back to life. “You don’t love me Eddie.”
“Bullshit.”
“Eddie!” you squawked.
“You heard me, kitten. I love you. Of course I love you. How could I not? And you love me too. I know you do.”
“Don’t flatter yourself Alden,” you snapped, fighting against the tears.
“What about homecoming?”
“Homecoming?” you exclaimed. “What about homecoming?”
“You kissed me! And you expect me to forget about that? About the day you killed me?” Before you could argue, he glared at you—his lips still pulled into that fucking grin you adored.
“I have loved you since I was twelve years old and pushed you in the mud baby. I’ve loved you through every rooftop conversation, after every argument with my goddamn father. After every football game and college party. I have loved you through every fucking second in this city, because I don’t know who I am without you kitten. I never have.”
“Oh…Eddie.”
The suitcase dropped to the floor with a thud as he rushed towards you, hands cupping your cheeks stained in fresh tears. “I’ll love you till it’s me in the ground right next to you. Cause that’s where I belong, Kit. At your side. I am hopelessly, undoubtedly fucking in love with you. Forever.”
“I love you,” you admitted, finally letting go of the one secret that kept you going every fucking day of your life. “I always have.”
Smiling, he swooped down and pressed his lips against yours hard enough to hurt. But you welcomed the pain with a choked gasp of his name, burying your fingers in his hair to keep him close. An arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you forward with a breathy chuckle. A sound you burned into your mind as you kissed him back with everything held in your heart.
“Stay with me,” he begged, gripping the back of your neck tenderly. “Live in New York with me. Fuck marry me one day. But stay.”
Sucking in a breath, you searched for that sliver of doubt that always reared its ugly head and found nothing but warmth. The piece finally set in place. Where it belonged.
“Yes,” you whispered. “I’ll stay.”
Maybe you didn’t belong in New York, maybe you weren’t meant for the big city life. But you belonged to Eddie. You were always supposed to be with him, stuck to his side like glue—wrapped tight and safe in the arms of your protector.
He laughed, wrapping you in a hug tight enough to crush your lungs. “Let’s go cancel your fucking flight.”
Grabbing your hand, he dragged you past the people saying goodbye, past the families saying hello. Onto a path you knew well, a future overflowing with the warmth of his love. Eddie Alden loved you. He’d loved you all along. And it was everything you could have wanted. He offered you a life fully lived—a home inscribed in your story—and you took it without a second thought.
His fingers looped with yours, keeping you close, and you smiled at the sight. Leaning into his touch with a contented sigh.
“Hey Eddie?” He glanced to the side with a hum. “Will you make me that coffee now?”
A smile crossed his lips, arm wrapping around your shoulders as his lips found yours. As if he’d been doing it all along.
“You got it, kitten.”
FIN.
note: i still kinda can't believe that it's all over. but to those who let me know how excited they were for this story i want to thank you! i wouldn't have found the drive to finish it without you guys.🖤
#eddie alden x f!reader#eddie alden x reader#eddie alden x you#eddie alden x y/n#eddie alden smut#eddie alden#my writing
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More Body, More Money
Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader
Word Count: 1.1k
warnings: Allusion to smut towards the end, references to a female body and that body being bigger
an: holy shit sorry for disappearing for so long. I make no promises as to when I'll come back as I seem to have a habit of breaking those. I've been in a Bridgerton mood recently though and typed this on my phone in like an hour so no promises that it's all that good. I will say though that I've been working on a request recently and it's currently at 4k and counting which is by far the longest fic I've ever written and I'm not even to the good part yet. I've also finished outlining the rest of the parts for my Kili x reader fic. I think that's it though, thanks for reading this far if you did and for putting up with my bs.
“Darling, could you come here a moment?” Your husband called from his desk. Recently you had taken to reading while lounging on the couch in his study. It was a great way to spend time with your busy husband while also letting him get his work done.
You didn’t exactly know what he was working on at the moment but apparently, your presence was needed to solve whatever issue he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until you got closer to his desk that you noticed the receipts and ledgers sprawled across his desk. He was updating the families' books and tracking the spending that you and the rest of his family had done that month.
“Yes, my love?” You moved to rest your hand on his back and traced it across his shoulders and on his neck. It was as if you two were magnets, unable to keep apart for very long. If you were close enough then you would feel your hands gravitating towards him. And if the way his arm moved to rest on your back as well, he had the same urges when in proximity to you.
“I’ve noticed something odd in the charges from the modiste.” Anthony handed you the papers. Both you and Eloise had gone to the modiste at the beginning of the month to be fitted for some new gowns to prepare for her second season in the marriage mart and your first season as the Viscountess.
“I’ll admit to not being the most knowledgeable about gowns and other frivolities my love, but is it normal for the cost difference to be this large? I mean when Ben and I get new suits the price is almost always similar.” He pointed to the two prices listed on the bill from Madame Delacroix.
You didn’t know how to respond to this, you knew the reason behind the price difference between yours and Elioises dresses, of course, it was something that you had thought of already. After all, it was the same reason that your younger sister always got more gowns than you every season that the two of you attended growing up. You were larger, and as the modiste you had gone to grow up with had said “More body means more fabric means more money.” more money that your father had deemed unnecessary so you had only ever gotten one or two new dresses while your sister would be fitted for five or six of the newest and most flattering styles.
But how could you explain this to Anthony? That your dresses cost more than his sisters because you were bigger, and that meant more money.
You knew Anthony loved your body, he worshiped it often in fact but there was a difference between getting lost in the softness of your embrace and seeing the real-life sometimes the financial consequences of living in a bigger body.
“Oh, Anthony, it is uh- just a matter of resources I suppose.”
He raised a brow at you. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean by resources?”
“Well dear husband, you and your brother are very similar in height and build which means the two of you have very similar resource usage, whereas myself and your sister are quite different in the… resource usage department.”
“My love, I need you to speak to me as if I am an idiot.”
You deeply sighed and prepared yourself to have the conversation that you had been trying and failing to get out of. “Eloise is small, therefore it does not take as much fabric to make her dresses, whereas I am quite well endowed and my dresses require more material. More body means more fabric means more money it is as simple as that.”
“That is preposterous, are you both not getting dresses?” His tone was getting more defensive, and it warmed your heart to know that he was willing to get upset at the simple fact that Madame Delacroix had charged you more because your dress was bigger. You had expected him to be embarrassed, and deep down somewhat afraid that he would realize that he had signed himself up for these extra expenses for the rest of his life by marrying you.
“Well darling, think about it, would you expect to pay the same amount for a child as you would for yourself? Do you not pay more for your suits than you do Greg’s?”
“No, I see your point darling.”
“That is all this is my love, different sizes of clothing cost different amounts. If it is a problem I can just see about getting some of my old gowns altered to make them somewhat nicer for the new season, that way you would not have to spend as much.”
“What? No. Darling, this is not about the money, I was merely worried that that woman had tried to take advantage of you, charging you far more than Eloise for the same thing. I couldn’t care less about the money. In fact, I think you should get ten more gowns made, show everyone in the Ton that I am married to the most voluptuous, sensual, and desirable woman in the world.” He pulled you closer to him so that you were standing in between his spread knees, you still standing over him as he leaned back in his chair.
Anthony began training kisses up and down the arm that he had grasped within his hand. Turning your wrist over so that he could place one at the center of your palm.
“I do not need ten new gowns, Anthony, that is far too much.” You giggled and protested, feeling more enamored with the man you married with every word out of his mouth.
“Perhaps I shall buy you ten diamond necklaces then so that I can have an excuse to stare at your chest as often as I’d like.” You snorted and gently smacked the back of his head. “Anthony Bridgerton, that is scandalous talk and you know it.”
“Nothing is scandalous between husband and wife, especially when the two are alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and lifted the corners of his lips into a sultry grin, one that had your knees feeling weaker by the second.
“All I really need, dear husband, is you.”
A smile that you could only consider adoring spread across your husband's face.
“And I you, my love.”
“No Anthony, I need you.”
His grin turned to a full-blown smirk spreading across his face, “Well, what the Viscountess needs she gets…”
;)
#anthony bridgerton#Anthony Bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x wife!reader#anthony bridgerton x plus size reader#x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton imagine#plus size reader#fanfic#plus size!reader#fluff#requests open#requests wanted
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