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cinnaleaf · 2 months ago

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ESSENCE OF US - CH 5: DATE NIGHT*

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 4 HERE | MASTERLIST | READ CH 6 HERE [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGST, SMUT, oral sex (female receiving), language, implied anxiety genre: fluff, angst, slow(ish) burn romance, slight smau wc: ~7.1k a/n: you asked for angst..i hope i delivered. please share your thoughts in my inbox!!

Enchantée(f)/Enchanté(m): 'nice to meet you' Rêveur: 'dreamer'

You stood in front of your mirror applying the final touch of gloss to your lips. Your nerves had been a mess all day and you were mentally spiraling, trying to convince yourself to chill out. It wasn't like it was your first time with Trent. You saw him plenty of times, but tonight felt different compared to the random run-ins and late nights. The anticipation of it all had your stomach doing somersaults.

Why am I so nervous? It’s just Trent. No big deal.

You took a deep breath, staring at your reflection like it was going to give you the answers to the superstorm brewing in your head. This date wasn't like all the other encounters where you ran into him. This date was planned. Intentional. Something about him putting in effort to plan all of it made things feel serious.

“Okay..he's already seen me naked. It can't get any worse than that,” you said to your reflection, trying to hype yourself up. The pep talk wasn't really stopping your heart rate from skyrocketing though.

Then you heard a knock.

The kind of knock that makes your stomach lurch.

You took one glance at yourself in the mirror, trying to keep it together before you opened the door. He looked perfect as always. Honestly, he had no business looking that good. His gaze looked you over before settling on your face. “Damn..you look beautiful.”

“Thanks. You look good too...” you replied neutrally, trying to play it cool. It wasn't really working but it was worth a shot. He stepped closer, his eyes still scanning over you. “Nahh. You're showing out tonight Y/N. Look at you!” You laughed nervously, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “You've seen me before…”

“Not like this..I almost don’t want to go to the class,” he said softly, leaning in towards you. Before you could respond he kissed you. It was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to take his time to savour you. You almost forgot where you were for a second as you felt the warmth of his hand resting on your hip. When he pulled back, he smiled as he looked into your eyes. “Ready for tonight?”

You smiled, although your stomach was still doing somersaults. “Um y–yeah. I think so.”

“You sure? You look like you're about to faint,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh. “I'm not going to faint! This is just our first date. It feels weird.”

“Why is it weird?”

You shrugged, biting your bottom lip. “We've done everything but this. Just feels different, that’s all.” Trent chuckled as he brushed his thumb over the corner of your lips “Don't overthink it Y/N. We'll have fun.”

“Maybe..” you admitted. You definitely had a habit of overthinking and Trent was starting to clock it. He had a way of making you feel comfortable, but anxiety was always lurking in the background, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and mess with your head.

“Y/N..” he said softly, “It's just us having a good time.” You nodded, trying to shake off your nerves. “Ugh. You're right..I'm being dumb.”

“You're not dumb. We’ll have a good time tonight,” he said while kissing your temple. Once you were in his car, his hand rested on your thigh as he drove to the cooking studio. “So..you gonna tell me if I get another date? Really trying to impress you here.” You burst out laughing, “The bar was low Trent..you already passed.” Trent joined in on your laughter, not offended in the slightest. “Low? Never that. I'm setting a standard.”

“Mhmm..we'll see.”

The city lights flickered by as he continued to drive. By the time you made it to the studio, your nerves had been replaced with excitement. The chef greeted both of you with a welcoming smile as she handed an apron to both of you. “Welcome, lovebirds! We're making a three course meal tonight. We’re starting with roasted bruschetta topped with heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil, followed by homemade pasta in a truffle sauce. And for dessert, a chocolate soufflé.”

Lovebirds??

The lighting in the cooking studio bathed the room as you and Trent tied your aprons. The space had a cozy and inviting feel to it while still being romantic. Every time Trent caught your eye, he looked at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the room. Your conversation with him flowed naturally as you began preparing the bruschetta. Trent grabbed a tomato, slicing it with more precision than you expected. Maybe he did know his way around the kitchen.

Trent leaned in closer to you as you started prepping the rest of the ingredients. “So how’d you end up in the perfume business? Love Notes..that’s all you?” You were a bit surprised by his curiosity as you glanced up at him. “Yep, it’s mine” you said, before placing an ingredient down. “I used to mix random things together when I was a kid. My parents would get so pissed off, so I would sneak around and do it while they were sleeping.”

Trent laughed, fascination displayed on his face. “So you turned that into perfume?”

“Eventually..” you said, smiling as you began to chiffonade the basil in front of you. “I studied chemistry in uni because I wanted to learn how to mix things professionally. I created a fragrance during my last year for fun..but it ended up getting some attention. Too much attention, actually.”

“It went viral or something?”

You shrugged, feeling shy now. “Sorta. A fragrance house offered to buy the formula from me. That's where I got the money to start Les Notes d'Amour.” Trent set his knife down, turning his attention to you fully. “So, you made a popular perfume and just..sold it to someone else?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I don't know if you've ever heard of it but it's called ‘Enchantée’. I thought I used too much tuberose but—” Trent stared at you for a minute with an unreadable expression as you continued to talk. Then he broke into the biggest smile you’d ever seen before cutting you off mid-sentence. “Enchanté! That's my mum's favorite perfume.”

“Wait..what?!”

“Yeah! She's been wearing it for a long time. That's wild..you made that??” he said, laughing softly. Your heart skipped a beat once you realized there was another layer of connection between the two of you.

“Trent…are you being serious or are you fucking with me right now? Please.”

The universe sure had a funny way of circling back, always leading you right back to him. “I swear! She talks about it all the time. She never goes a day without it.”

What were the odds? First the train, the café, Paris, and now this. Insane.

“Small world, huh?” you whispered, nudging into him. He nodded, still grinning like he had won the lottery. “Just the universe and all its plot twists. It's been playing matchmaker from the start.” He was right. The idea of fate bringing you together felt more real with every moment you shared with him. You knew there was chemistry, but you never expected it to deepen in this way, it felt surreal. “So..after that I opened Love Notes..” you continued in a softer voice. “I started creating custom fragrances for brides and grooms, celebs, and I made signature collections. I want everyone to have something that’s made just for them.”

Trent reached over, brushing his hand over yours. “That's valid. I didn't know you were out here changing the game like that.” You smiled, feeling your heart race again. “I love it. It never feels like work to me.” You could see the admiration in Trent's eyes. He was taking in every word you said, every part of your journey, your world. “What about you?” you asked, shifting the focus to him. “I know footie is life or whatever, but what about your family? You seem close.”

You saw his expression soften when you mentioned his family. “Yeah, we're close. I've got two brothers who always have my back. We're tight.” You could hear the love in his voice as he continued to gush over his family. “That's so sweet,” you said, admiring how genuine he was being.

“Yeah, they're the reason I’m where I am. Couldn’t do it without ‘em.”

Before you could respond to him, he cupped your chin to tilt your face towards his. He searched your eyes before leaning in, giving you a slow and tender kiss. It felt like a quiet affirmation of the serendipity that seemed to weave your lives together in ways neither of you could fully understand at the moment. He gazed at you, looking like he was about to say something that would change everything.

“Maybe..” he began in a low voice. “Maybe we should stop pretending we're just—”

Your heart pounded, the anticipation pulling you closer as if the entire universe was holding its breath, waiting to hear what he wanted to say.

Was this it?

You felt that familiar tension you always felt with him—like right before lightning strikes. Just as his lips parted to speak again, the chef's voice cut through the silence like a bolt of lightning.

“How's the bruschetta coming along over there, lovebirds?”

You and Trent jerked back, the spell between you breaking as you turned towards her. Trent was clearly thrown off and it was kind of funny. “Uh, right. The bruschetta,” he sounded like he was trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. You laughed, your tension easing once you saw the frustrated look in his eyes. He leaned into you, whispering in your ear. “I swear, worst timing ever.” You giggled, shaking your head. “The universe is just having a laugh at us, no?”

“Or keeping us on our toes,” he joked. “I guess it wants me to wait a little bit before I say what I really want to.” Whatever he was about to say wasn't forgotten...just postponed.

You both turned back to the partially assembled bruschetta, although his eyes were on you a lot more than they were on the tomatoes. Every time your hands brushed against his, you felt your skin tingle, reminding you of what almost happened.

Eventually, you managed to pull it off pretty well. Sure, it was just toasted bread with toppings but it looked delicious. “See? I told you I knew how to cook,” Trent said with a smirk as he slid the bruschetta onto a plate. “Umm, let's not get carried away. All you did was chop some tomatoes and toast bread.” He nudged you with his shoulder lightly, “Ah, just wait til we get to a real challenge like the pasta.”

“Can't wait to see that disaster,” you teased, moving on to the next dish. The chef brought over a bowl of flour, eggs, and oil as she explained the technique of mixing it by hand. “Knead it just right. Don't be afraid to get messy, it's part of the fun!” You saw Trent's eyes light up as soon as the words 'messy' and 'fun' were mentioned. You were in danger, girl.

You made a well in the flour for the eggs as you followed the chef's instructions intently, but Trent was less focused on perfection. He dove straight into the flour, sending small flour cloud puffs into the air. “Slow down!” you shrieked, laughing as you tried to fix the pile of flour that was spilling over the counter. He grinned mischievously before grabbing a small handful of flour and tossed it in your direction. It hit you on the shoulder as a cloud of white dust settled on your outfit.

“Trent, I swear to god–”

He grabbed more flour before you were able to finish your sentence and flicked it at you. You grabbed a huge handful in retaliation, hitting his shirt, his hair, and half his face. “Oh, that's how it is?” he wiped some flour off his cheek, grinning like a kid in a candy store. You tried to dodge his next attempt but he was moving quicker than you were, setting off a flour warfare. Your face scrunched up, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “We have to clean this up later,” you warned. He stepped closer, dusting some flour off your shoulders. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

Unbeknownst to you, the chef had pulled out her phone and recorded the entire thing. “You two are too cute! Don’t mind me..just getting this for the ‘gram.” You hesitated for a second, wondering how this would look to everyone watching online. The thought of it made your anxiety start to creep in, but then you glanced at Trent. He looked absolutely ridiculous and had flour all over him, yet he was still grinning ear to ear. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like a big deal anymore. You were having the time of your life, and you didn’t care to think about the specifics of it at the time.

Eventually, you both managed to get back to the dough. Shared laughter filled the studio as you both struggled to knead the pasta into shape. You managed to pull it together before moving on to prepare the chocolate soufflé. There was no funny business this time, you both worked perfectly in sync before placing the soufflé in the oven.

While the soufflé baked, you and Trent sat down at the table to enjoy the bruschetta and pasta. There were soft flickerings of candlelight which would have been romantic under most circumstances, but the fact that both of you were covered in flour made it feel like the goofiest thing ever. Trent’s shirt was basically covered and you had flour all over your face. You couldn’t stop the fit of giggles every time you looked at each other.

“This is a good look for us,” Trent said, chuckling as he wiped a bit of flour from your cheek. “Ready for me to post our masterpiece?” You hesitated for a second before smiling. The lightness of the evening still had you on cloud nine. “Yeah go ahead. It’s just a plate of pasta, right?” He pulled out his phone, snapping a picture of plated food on the table before posting it to his story. You weren't really in the shot. The only thing that could be seen was the tiniest sliver of hair in the frame, but the flour coated mess in the background was obvious.

Just a harmless picture, you figured. There was no way the chef’s video would go viral. She wasn’t too well known, plus, the night had been too fun to worry about all the little details. It was just a plate of food, right?

But then again… the internet was the internet.

In record time, your phone started pinging. Again…and then again. Frowning, you picked up your phone as the notifications came flooding in faster than you could process. Trent glanced over with his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“All good?”

You swiped open Instagram, immediately noticing SpillTheBeansUK had already reposted Trent's story, along with the chef's video. The video featured you and Trent in a fit of laughter while covered in flour, and people were connecting the dots faster than you imagined:

@.SpillTheBeansUK 👀 Looks like TAA’s mystery girl @.yourusername strikes again! The flour fight, the looks, the vibes..this is more than just a date. When’s the wedding?

@.ChillOutMate its giving hard launch but im shy

@.TAA_Angel03 Girly you’re feeding MY MAN well so you’re good in my book. But Trent..please come home we can fix this baby

@.InTheStands92 T isn’t subtle with his story at all LOL. He may as well have tagged her

@.CuppaT66 Man tried so hard not to reveal and still failed lmao

@.Y2KBabe20 Is this a soft launch or hard launch? confused but INVESTED

@.TeamHardLaunch ok, fuck a soft launch.. when is the wedding

@.YNGotFansNow The chef really did us a solid here. We needed this update!! But the fact they still don’t follow each other is driving me mad 😩

@.YNperfume_fan I wonder what scent Y/N wore for this date night? Something gourmand to match the vibe I bet.

@.ConspiracyBabe they’re not gonna hard launch until Y/N’s new fragrance collection drops. She’s gonna tie it all together and Trent’s gonna promote it. This is all PR strategy. 👀

@.FootieStan08 I want to hate but the way they’re looking at each other in that video is so cute. Fuming tho 😤

@.GossipLuvr ‘The Wait’ a fragrance by Y/N. Notes of suspense and slow burn angst. 😂

@.YNPerfumeJunkie not me refreshing her website just in case a surprise perfume launch happens after this date night 😭

@.TeamYNOfficial liking the chef’s post and then posting his own like we can’t piece it all together. You’re so obvious T

@.LoyalTStan wait…someone said they’ve been married for a year but keeping it private. I saw it on a forum 👀

@.GirlWhatLies A YEAR?? sis they’ve been publicly spotted together like 2 times. Where are you getting this info??! lmao wtf

You handed the phone to Trent, who couldn’t stop laughing as he scrolled through the comments. “Man, these people are wild.”

“Right?” you replied, still giggling. “They’re already planning our wedding and we haven’t even had dessert yet.”

“I guess we’ll have to tell them to RSVP at a later date...” You scrunched up your eyebrows, giving Trent a confused look. “Huh? What are you on about?”

“We can’t have people RSVPing to our wedding if we’re not official yet, right?” he said, with a smug smile. Your brain was struggling to catch up with what was happening.

You blinked, completely taken aback as you realized. “Wait..are you asking me—”

Just as you were beginning to clarify—and possibly answer his question, a shrill, ear splitting beep filled the air followed by the blaring of a smoke alarm. You both whipped your heads toward the oven.

*BEEP!

!BEEP*

*BEEP!

!BEEP*

“Oh! The soufflé!” you yelped, eyes wide with panic. Trent’s laughter erupted beside you, both of you jumped out of your chairs, scrambling towards a chaotic mess of flour and panic. You grabbed a towel, frantically waving it near the alarm as the smell of burnt chocolate filled the air. The noise was so loud and annoying you could barely think, let alone hear anyone over the noise.

“IT’S BURNT!” you yelled over the blaring alarm, waving the towel harder.

Trent, still chuckling, quickly grabbed oven mitts and yanked open the oven door. “YEAH, NO SHIT!” he shouted, barely containing his laughter.

The whole thing was hilarious, truly. There was flour still clinging to both of you while smoke billowed from the oven, the alarm was blaring like a screaming toddler, and your phone was still pinging with notifications. Throughout all the chaos, it felt like your body was pumped with pure adrenaline. You knew what you wanted to say, and you needed to say it now.

“YES!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, continuing to fan the towel wildly. “I’LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!”

Trent whipped his head around, a huge grin spread across his face but the noise was so deafening he clearly misheard you. “YEAH! WE’LL CLEAN THE OVEN AFTER THIS!”

You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “WHAT? NO!! I SAID I’LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!”

Trent stared at you for a second as your words connected in his head, then he burst into hysterical laughter while taking the oven mitts off. “OHHHH! GIRLFRIEND, NOT OVEN! THAT MAKES SENSE!”

You were laughing too now, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. “YES! YOUR GIRLFRIEND, SILLY!”

Without missing a beat, Trent crossed the smoky kitchen in a few quick steps and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep fiery kiss. The fire alarm was still blaring while the smell of burnt chocolate filled the room, but none of it mattered. His hands held you close, your flour covered fingers gripping the front of his shirt as you kissed him back with just as much urgency.

Somewhere in the background, the chef stood with her arms crossed, smiling like she witnessed the greatest love story she had ever seen. She made no move to stop the chaos. She just let it unfold like she knew this was exactly how it was supposed to happen.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless and laughing as you tried to catch your breath. The alarm continued to screech dramatically.

“WELL,” Trent yelled, still holding onto you, “THAT’S ONE WAY TO MAKE IT OFFICIAL!”

You laughed, pulling him closer. “DEFINITELY NOT WHAT I IMAGINED!”

He grinned, his voice teasing. “BUT YOU SAID YES! A WIN IS A WIN BABY!”

As the fire alarm finally died down, and the chef gave you both a thumbs-up from across the room and you knew one thing for sure:

The whole situation was perfectly imperfect in the best way..and it was yours.

After helping the chef clean up the studio kitchen, you and Trent headed back to your apartment for some much needed alone time. Flour still clung to your clothes as you stepped inside, but Trent didn't seem to care. The moment he heard the door click, his hands found your waist to pull you close. The way he gripped you was so needy, like he had been waiting to have you alone all night. He wasted no time pulling you into a hungry kiss as his hands made their way down to knead your ass.

“Shower?” you whispered against his lips, barely managing to pull away.

“I won’t say no to that,” he winked, clearly having more intentions than just a shower.

You both tossed your flour covered clothes aside quickly before stepping into the shower. The water cascaded over your skin as it washed away the remaining remnants of the chaotic date night. Trent's hands immediately found their place, cemented onto your hips to pull you close to him from behind.

He murmured against your neck, "Y'know..I had a good time tonight.”

You turned your head as your breath caught slightly from his hands sliding up your sides, his fingers tracing the curves on your body. "Mmm, me too." His lips moved to your shoulder as you felt heat rush to your core. You tilted your head and rested it on his shoulder when his hands moved lower, teasing the skin above your thighs.

"Trent please.." you whimpered, voice filled with desperation. “I need you.” His fingers immediately found their way between your legs, slipping inside you in a slow and deliberate motion. You gasped, clutching his arm to steady yourself as he curled his fingers inside of you with the perfect rhythm.

“You like that?” Trent whispered against your ear in a low and erotic voice, clearly enjoying the way your body reacted to his fingers. You moaned softly, biting your lip as you nodded. “Y-yesss.”

His other hand slid up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple sending sparks of fire coursing through you. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” he said, moving his fingers faster and deeper.

You moaned in response, your body arching into his touch as the water streamed over both of you. The tension in your core tightened and you could feel yourself teetering on the brink of seventh heaven. Just as you were getting close to falling over the edge, a sudden thought blared in your mind—the shop.

Your eyes flew open, a sudden panic rising in your chest.

Fuck, did I turn off the equiptment?!

Your mind started racing as the anxiety came in full throttle. You hated when this happened. Always thinking about the next thing, especially right now, frustrated the hell out of you. Trent felt your body tense up and his hand immediately froze in place. “Shit..did I hurt you? I'm sorry.”

“No, no,” you quickly reassured him. “I think I forgot to turn something off at Love Notes. I need to go check, like right now.”

Trent stared at you, looking like he was caught between desire and confusion. “Now???”

“Yes, now! I can’t leave it on overnight.” you said, pulling away as you stepped out to quickly dry off and get dressed. Trent sighed, running his hand over his neck. “Only you would remember that right now, Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you mouthed, feeling guilty for letting your mind ruin the moment.

By the time you arrived at Les Notes d'Amour it was late, really late. The streets were basically empty and the shop was dark with the exception of dim lighting that illuminated the displays. You headed straight back to where the equipment was, relief washing over you when you saw nothing had gone wrong. The machinery had been off the entire time. You took a deep breath, double checking everything again to make sure you weren’t losing your mind. Trent stood nearby, leaning on the doorframe and looking completely relaxed like always. “Better?”

“Much better. Thanks for coming with me” you smiled, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders.

“No problem..” he said, stepping closer. “now since we’re here..”

You raised your eyebrow, curious. “What??”

He grinned, a familiar glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “How about we make that aftershave we talked about?”

“Right now? You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning against the counter. “We’re already here anyway. Let's do it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you grabbed your perfume diary and some of your favorite oils. You immediately went into your element, gathering ingredients as Trent wandered around the shop. He occasionally picked up a bottle, sniffing it with curiosity.

“So..” he said, coming to stand next to you, “whatcha got?”

You explained the process as you went along, handing him different oils to smell. He made a funny face at some, but others seemed to catch his interest. You walked him through the idea of base notes, heart notes, and top notes. “I want something warm,” Trent said confidently. “Not too heavy, a little fresh.” You nodded, pulling together ingredients based on his preferences. “How about lavender? It's light and fresh. We can mix it with something like apple and spice for warmth.” While working, you mixed in a note of vanilla, cedar, and sandalwood to round the scent out—it was smooth yet bold as a testament to his calm confidence. While you were busy scribbling the formula down on a sticky note, Trent wandered over with a pen, flipping to a blank page in your notebook to write a note.

He started doodling in soft strokes as he sketched a small eclipse. The delicate lines formed a shadow of the moon crossing in front of the sun. He hesitated for a second before writing the words that had been on his mind since Paris.

I want you for as long as the stars shine. - T

You were still mixing oils on the far end of the room looking like a mad scientist. He glanced over at you to make sure you were still distracted as he closed the notebook, hiding his little secret for you to find later. When you turned back around, Trent was leaning against the counter looking too innocent. You raised your eyebrow, knowing something was up. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” he said with a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Just letting my girl work her magic.” You narrowed your eyes playfully, still smiling. “I know you’re up to no good..” You eyed him suspiciously but decided to let it slide. “Okay sneaky, what do you think of the scent?” Trent took a deep breath, taking in the warm fragrance.

“Oh nah..what is this..?” he yelped, pulling the bottle away from his face dramatically. Your heart sank for a millisecond before you saw the corners of his mouth twitching. He was just fucking with you.

“Stop fucking around,” you said, rolling you eyes. “You're the worst liar ever.”

He started cracking up before pulling you into a quick hug. “You got me. But nah..you did amazing. I love it.” You pulled away from him, crossing your arms as you pretended to be annoyed. In reality, you were loving the way he was hyping you up. “You're so annoying, I swear.”

“Yeah, a little bit,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “What are we going to name it?”

You paused, thinking for a moment before looking at the bottle. This part of the process was the most fun, naming your creation to describe the meaning beyond the bottle. “What about Rêveur?” you asked, the name rolling off your tongue easily.

“What’s that?” he asked inquisitively.

“Dreamer,” you replied with a soft smile. “It's perfect for you. You already made so many of your dreams come true.” Trent was silent but when he finally spoke, his voice lost its usual playfulness. “Hmm..Rêveur..” he repeated as he nodded. “I like that. Dreamer..yeah, that's perfect.”

As the name hung in the air, Trent set the bottle aside as his eyes darkened with admiration..and something more primal. You barely finished naming the scent before his arms were circling around your waist, his lips ghosting over your neck. “You're amazing, you know?” You opened your mouth to respond but your words were caught in your throat as his lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss. His hands roamed your body as he walked you backward until your body hit the display counter. Your perfume bottles rattled but you didn't care, all you could focus on was the heat pooling between your legs, the sensation of his touch, his lips moving from your mouth to your neck, then lower, lower...

“Trent..” you gasped, gripping the edge of the counter. He pulled back, dropping to his knees with confidence. “You made something for me, yeah? I think I need to reward you.”

Your pulse quickened as his hands slid up your thighs, pulling off the tiny shorts you had thrown on after your shower earlier. He hooked his fingers under your panties and dragged them down agonisingly slow before locking his eyes on yours, daring you to stop him.

You couldn't think clearly around this man, so there was no way you were stopping him. In fact, you needed him to keep going, and quickly.

“You deserve this,” he whispered as he kissed your inner thigh, sending a chill through you. His words made your breath hitch, but then his mouth was on you and you felt your whole world tilt. His tongue moved in perfect rhythm, flicking, teasing, and sucking until your knees buckled. You gripped the counter for support, gasping his name as he held you in place. Every stroke of his tongue brought you closer to ecstasy.

“F-fuck, that feels so good,” you could barely get the words out due to his tongue’s relentless assault on your pussy. He hummed against you and the vibrations had you seeing stars. His hands gripped your thighs tighter to hold you steady. You could feel the pressure twisting, tightening, building until you couldn't take it anymore. You were teetering on the edge of a devastatingly perfect orgasm as your body begged for release. He pulled back just enough to murmur against your skin, “Let go, baby. I wanna taste you when you cum.”

You arched your back against the counter, moaning his name as your orgasm tore through you like a wildfire. It was so intense that it was almost unbearable, but he didn't stop. His tongue was working you through the aftershocks to draw out every bit of pleasure until you were completely undone. When he finally pulled away, he rose to his feet with a cocky grin.

“Best aftershave I ever made,” you panted, trying to catch your breath.

Trent laughed, cupping your chin with his hands as he murmured against your lips, deep with affection. “Thank you.”

No. Thank YOU, you thought to yourself.

The way he looked at you made your heart race, but your mind started racing too as the warmth of the moment faded. A feeling of uneasiness stirred inside you. For a second you smiled at him, but the weight of everything you hadn't told him yet crept up and threatened to pull you down like a rip current. If you were going to have something real with him, you needed to be completely honest. He needed to know the truth.

About you. About everything.

“Trent..” you began in a shaky voice. You pulled away, gesturing around the room. “This...all of this..is like my baby. It's the only thing I've ever truly had control over in my life.”

His brow furrowed, sensing the shift in your mood. “What do you mean?”

You ran a hand through your hair, sighing as you tried to find the right words. “I wasn't always like this. Successful, I mean. I almost lost all of it. Everything I built...all of this.” You gestured around the room again. “Because of him.”

“..Who?”

“My ex,” you spoke quietly, not wanting his name to linger on your tongue at all. “He was older..successful, charming..all of that. It was everything I thought I wanted, well–everything my parents wanted for me.” You swallowed thickly, the memories rushing back like ghosts haunting you.

“I thought the ups and downs were just a part of starting something new, y'know? I thought the struggles were normal but they weren't. He sabotaged me.” Trent's jaw clenched as he sat up straighter, turning his full attention to you. “He didn't want me to have something of my own,” you continued, your voice trembling. “He wanted a young trophy wife..someone he could parade around with at events. He seemed so established..so powerful. I guess I was drawn to that.”

Trent's hand tensed on your leg, “What did he do?”

The words started spilling out before you could stop them. “He fucked everything up. He stole some of my clients and pulled them into his failing business ventures. He shared ideas I was working on with competitors..he wanted to destroy me. He hated that I had ‘Love Notes’. He wanted me to feel like I needed him.” You paused as the bitter taste of the memory made your throat tight. “And I was so stupid..I stayed. Because my parents were so proud of me for being with him. They thought he was perfect. They wanted me to have this perfect life and if I walked away..I knew they'd be disappointed.”

He nodded, silently giving you more time to open up at your own pace.

You could feel tears welling up but you pushed them back. “I thought I had to keep up appearances because it was what everyone expected. Every day I stayed..I lost more of myself. My business was crumbling..my confidence didn't exist. And I didn't even realize it was because of him.” You paused, taking a deep breath. “It wasn't until Camille stepped in that I really started to see how fucked everything was. She saw right through him and hated him from the start��but she never pushed me. She just waited until I was ready.”

Trent looked at you with a mix of concern and admiration. He was being so patient with you. “Camille pulled every string she could to get me away from him. She cut off every business tie he had. Her family–they're connected in ways I don't even fully understand myself..but they made sure he wouldn't come near me again.”

To be honest, they were the only reason your life wasn’t in shambles right now.

“I owe her everything,” you admitted quietly.

“Camille is a real one,” Trent said quietly, still taking in what you had just told him.

“Yeah, she is,” you agreed. “She warned me not to fall too fast for you but–” Trent's eyes softened as he pulled you into him. “I'm not him, Y/N. You don't have to worry about that. He sounds like a piece of shit.”

“I know..but it's hard,” you whispered, feeling the comfort of his words wash over you. “I have this fear that I'm not enough. Like–I'm going to mess everything up. And you're...you. You made all your dreams come true and I'm trying to keep my head above water half the time.”

Trent's thumb moved to your cheek, wiping away a tear that fell down. “Nah, it's not like that,” he said quietly. “I feel pressure constantly. Everyone expects me to win every match, be the best on and off the pitch. I feel like I'm not enough sometimes too.” You didn't really expect him to open up like this, at least not right now. You didn't know he felt the same kind of weight you carried. “You don't show it,” you muttered. "You always seem so confident like you have it all together.”

He smiled but there was a hint of sadness in his brown eyes. “Yeah, I'm good at hiding it. I have to be. Can't show your weakness when the whole world is watching.”

“I just don't want to lose myself,” you admitted in a small voice. “I can't go through that again.” Trent pulled you into a warm embrace to ground you. “I’m not going to hurt you Y/N. Just tell me what you need and I'll give it to you.”

“I want to believe that, but I'm scared of what it means to be with you. I'm scared of messing up and not being enough for you.” Trent kissed your cheek, continuing to hold you close to him. “You don't need to be perfect Y/N. I don't need that..I just need you.” For a moment, you stayed wrapped in his arms as the weight of what was said filled the room. “You won't lose yourself,” he whispered. “Not with me.”

Maybe Trent was right. You clawed your way out of hell a year and a half ago. Despite your short time together, he made you feel something no one else ever had, especially not your god awful ex. Trent wanted you to believe you deserved every little good thing coming your way. He wanted you to see yourself the way others did, and he wasn't going to stop until you finally saw it too.

The drive back to your place was quiet but not awkward; both of you needed a minute to process everything. Trent's hand rested on it's usual place–your thigh. Every once in a while he would give your leg a reassuring squeeze to remind you he was right there and not going anywhere. You glanced at him, noticing his brow was furrowed like he was deep in thought. He seemed like he was mulling over everything you told him and it made you feel vulnerable..but it felt safe. You were thankful you didn't have to speak right now, both of you just existing in comfortable silence together after a heavy conversation.

Meanwhile, Trent's brain was running a mile a minute. What you told him about your ex had him fuming, he couldn't believe someone would do that to you. He didn't show it though. He knew how evil some people could be, and the fact that someone nearly made you lose everything made his stomach turn. And then there was the pressure he knew all too well–the public eye. He was used to it, but the idea of you facing that kind of attention made him want to wrap you in bubble wrap. He was protective.. maybe more than he should have been, but it was clear he didn't want anyone to hurt you again..not even him.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly, breaking the silence. He glanced at you with his hand still resting on your thigh. “Yeah, I'm just thinking.”

“Thinking about???”

“You,” he admitted in a soft voice. “You're strong for getting out of that mess and building a life for yourself.” You swallowed, throat tight with emotion. “But Camille, she–”

“Yeah, I know,” he cut you off gently. “You didn't let him win though, and that says a lot about who you are as a person.” You didn't know how to respond to his statement so you just nodded, feeling your chest warm up at his words.

As you stepped inside your apartment, the quietness of the night settled around you. Trent followed close behind, which made everything feel more secure. You turned to face him, feeling the weight of everything you shared earlier. “Tonight was a lot,” you said, giving him a tired smile. He nodded, stepping closer. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm glad you told me.”

You sighed, feeling exhaustion hit you at once. “You needed to know.” His hands found your waist and pulled you into him, “I’m still not going anywhere, Y/N.” You rested your head against his chest, letting his heartbeat soothe your thoughts. “I'm so sleepy,” you muttered against his shirt. “Let's get some sleep then, yeah? It’s late,” he said softly, guiding you to the bed.

Once you climbed in, you fell asleep nearly instantly as Trent wrapped his arm protectively around you. Your phones were still pinging with notifications, they never really stopped honestly. Trent glanced at the screen as more people pieced together your 'soft launch'—if you could even call it that. He smirked to himself, shaking his head at the chaos that ensued tonight. He reached over gently, grabbing both phones and put them on silent.

While the two of you rested, the world outside hadn't stopped. The internet sleuths were in full force, your phones pinging silently as notifications poured in. The aftermath of tonight's not-so-subtle soft launch had the internet working overtime, piecing together clues you didn't realize were even there.

@.TarotQueenMystic Just pulled some cards for Trent and Y/N: ‘The Lovers’, ‘The Tower’, and ‘Nine of Swords’. This connection is seriously intense but they're about to hit a turning point. ‘The Lovers’ card shows a true deep bond..but ‘The Tower’? That's a warning. Something is about to shake up their world for sure. ‘Nine of Swords’ shows some sleepless nights ahead. Things are definitely going to go up in smoke before they get better! Something or someone could bring it all down, but it’s all a part of the universe’s plan. Stay tuned 🔮✨

@.FanFicReality ngl it feels like we’re being edged bc wtf is this supposed to mean? hello???

@.premierleagueprincess i was today years old when i realised i need a tarot reader on speed dial for my ship omg!!

@.LFCQueen Not the tower card...ain’t that the one where everything goes to shit? 😳

@.soccerchicTX I knew something felt cosmic about them! The lovers card is fate babes. They’re endgame if they can get through this

@.TuberosaConspiracy Omg guys Y/N uses tuberose in almost every collection. It’s all about intense love and dangerous attraction. Coincidence? I think NOT!!!

@.ImTalkingToYouReaders Tuberose means WHAT?!! We’ve been sleeping on these perfume easter eggs!!

im glad y’all told me u wanted angst bc now i’m feeling a bit chaotic 🥳

thank you for reading! 💌

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold angst #trent alexander x reader #footballer x y/n #trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold imagine #footballer x reader #taa x reader #trent alexander x you

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povlnfour · 1 year ago

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ PADDOCK TO PADDOCK (LN) PART 5

series masterlist | prev part | next part

lando norris x fem!horse rider!reader

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 192,306 others

yourusername 🇬🇧⏭️🇸🇬

👤 tagged landonorris

view all 10,093 comments

user3 bestie is travelling the world a lot with him huh

user5 and they still deny they’re dating

landonorris 🧡

liked by yourusername

texts with lily ੈ✩‧₊˚

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by danielricciardo and 90,361 others

lando.jpg exploring singapore

view all 3,498 comments

user4 WHAT THE FUCK MISS Y/N. THAT IS ILLEGAL

user5 so glad i’m not the only one freaking out over that secOND PHOTO

user7 SHE. SHES. MY GOD.

user9 does she not have the olympics or something to train for🙄

daniel.jpg is this why you’ve been hiding from me

yourusername ur not the favourite anymore

mclaren posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by scuderiaferrari, your username and 120,417 others

mclaren P2 IN SINGAPORE AND CARLANDO PODIUM?! WHAT A RACE!

👤 tagged landonorris, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari

view all 10,506 comments

user5 CARLANDOOOO😭😭😭😭

user2 TEARS IN MY EYES

user7 FOREVER OUR MCLAREN BOYS (oscar we love u as well)

yourusername someone raced well huh

mclaren we heard it had something to do with a certain incentive👀

user6 whAT IS GOING ON

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 250,710 others

landonorris an insane weekend. and this time i took away two trophies🧡

👤tagged carlossainz55, yourusername

view all 54,200 comments

user3 huh

user7 i am. is this confirmation? i don’t understand

yourusername baby u are so cute but the caption makes me seem like a trophy wife😭

user5 SO THEY. THEY ARE ?????

user8 CARLANDO PODIUM AND Y/NANDO DATING??? WHAT IS HAPPENING TODAY

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 234,109 others

yourusername told him if he got podium i’d be his girlfriend. guess i’m a pretty proud girlfriend right about now🧡

👤 tagged landonorris

view all 37,008 comments

user5 OH MY GOD THAT WAS THE INCENTIVE

user1 ITS HAPPENING EVERYONE STAY CALM

lilymhe ‘i don’t have time for a relationship’ - you in my messages a month ago

yourusername LEAVE ME ALONE SHDJJSJS

landonorris 🫣

user13 going to cry there’s a new mom and dad on the grid!

alex_albon so i’ve been forgotten

oscarpiastri @/landonorris you can stop pining in my dms now

landonorris PLEASE SHUT UP

yourusername IM OMW TO UR HOTEL ROOM SHOW ME RN.

landonorris made me wait long enough but you’re worth a thousand years of waiting

user7 oh he’s WHIPPED

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, flo_norris_showjumping and 108,333 others

lando.jpg you’ve been my favourite view for a while, but i’m glad i get to share it now. let’s go get you a medal baby🧡

view all 10,926 comments

user9 🙄

user3 HOPE UR CRYING RN

user6 LOLLLLL

user2 y’all are so sickeningly sweet and i love it

flo_norris_showjumping glad you got your shit together bro🩷

user7 MY FAVES ANDBWHXJSJSJ

user1 crying. sobbing. shaking. tears are flowing

yourusername 🩷 i adore you so bad

daniel.jpg you’re still a loser but i’m happy for you

taglist: @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101

a/n: i know it seems like the end but it’s NOT i have a little more planned so hold on <<33 just some soppy relationship stuff really

taglist found here

- giselle xx

#🐴 paddock to paddock #f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #mclaren #lando norris au #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine #lando norris scenario #lando norris smau

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twipsai · 1 month ago

Text

ive been wanting to do something like this for a while, so here we go

Silver's straightforward attitude and anxieties: a poorly formatted analysis

Silver's anxiety is something i havent seen talked about a lot, and im really just barely going beneath the surface here -- i hope i did it justice in anyway sfdkSKHJFDSKFH i think about his obvious anxiety disorder a lot

transcript of all the text i added under the cut incase its hard to read for some ppl ^_^

image 1 (source: IDW #8): "isnt really used to banter, got worried he actually offended Sonic"

"he worries a lot about not being useful, because thats pretty much his entire purpose in life. if hes not doing something, he will find something to do (badly) or panic. he gets nervous at the slightest insinuation that he mightve messed up because the last thing he ever wants to do is get in anyones way."

"for how powerful he is and how much shit he talks, Silver doesnt really think very good about himself or his own worth."

image 2 (source: Sonic Universe #82): "its hard to say anything here that i havent already said, its just another example os Silver having issues with his self wroth, and also a lot of his motivation coming from protecting the people he loves (and, more generally, protecting the world), considering a page after this he gets up and completely wrecks the Second Devourer"

image 3 (source: IDW #8): "Silver will take pretty much anything literally. he lacks the social skills to identify when someones being serious bc he grew up completely alone"

image 4 (source: IDW #14): "he cant lie (is both bad at it, and it really just doesnt cross his mind to do so), but he can change the subject"

"he also really doesnt like it when people are worried about him -- almost every time people show concern for him, he tries (and fails) to lie or change the subject"

image 5 (source: IDW #14): "he didnt see anything suspicious about [Starline giving the "vault code"] because he doesnt usually assume people lie directly to him, its just not something that usually crosses his mind"

image 6 (source: IDW #60, TSR interview): "Silver's rudeness, his naivete, misunderstanding of jokes/quips/banter, inability to lie, it all stems from his straightforwardness. its simple, but but oftentimes effective (yes i chose a bad page to showcase when it works, ignore that)"

"Silver doesnt like to beat around the bush or show off too often. go in, defeat the bad guys, get out. it ties in with his anxiety of the future -- time is always of the essence"

"Q: What are some of your favorite items to use during the race?

Silver: [...]but the Jade Wisps' "Ghost" is the only one I like. I can disappear and focus on the race."

"it does make him forget to stratagize and cooperate with his friends sometimes, though, when his first instinct is "hit it until it stops moving""

image 7 (source: Sonic Rivals 2): "im not really going over his bluntness in this, but literally the entirety of Rivals 2 covers that. he doesnt think to hide what hes doing because he knows hes in the right, so he just expects everyone else to know that. he expects people to believe him just because hes telling the truth. he doesnt see why he would have a reason to lie, so he never thinks to justify his actions."

"a lot of this bluntness is also shown in IDW #64 -- Silver cant be stealthy and observe someone from afar to save his life when he knows hes right about them. he really takes no time to explain that Duo is Mimic before Whisper steps in and attacks Mimic, even though if he took the time to talk through what happened, he probably couldve convinced Lanolin of Duo's true nature"

image 8 (source: IDW annual 2022): "Silver has pretty much zero idea how to navigate the world outside of helping other people and saving the world. he is almost constantly in "survival mode" and doesnt know how to handle low-stakes"

"(he sometimes takes casual conversation too seriously because of this)"

"he is constantly worried about the future. to an almost unhealthy degree sometimes, its often all he thinks about. when he knows exactly what to do, he comes off as confident and powerful, but when he doesnt know what to do..."

"...he completely spirals. to him, an uncertain future is worse than a doomed one. not knowing how to fix things is one of the most terrifying thoughts to him."

"if Espio hadn't been here to calm him down, i think its super likely he'd have had an anxiety attack."

image 9 (source: Sonic Generations, IDW #64, Team Sonic Racing, Sonic Universe #79): "like, i truly cannot emphasize enough how he cannot relax. anything can be a threat, and if he doesnt see an immediate one, he will find something that is one. "

"he can rarely calm down, because every second hes in the past is another second he should be saving the future"

"i cant properly showcase it here, but if you run past him in Gens, he'll immediately be on-guard."

"he has to always be looking for the next world-destroying foe, it's pretty much his default setting."

"there are tons more examples of his overt anxiety, but these are some of the more prominant examples."

image 9 (source: Archie Sonic #235): "we even see in the traitor arc in archie how Silver is constantly paranoid. the idea never crosses his mind that there is no traitor, because something is always wrong. hes like a machine built to find a problem with no off switch"

"almost anything can set him off and make him untrusting of anyone, because thats the only way he knows how to live. anything can be a threat in his eyes, and when there is no threat, he will either find one or panic that he cant find one."

"because when you spend your entire life fighting,"

"how else are you supposed to live?"

#sonic analysis #silver the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog analysis

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ladykailitha · 5 months ago

Text

Sweet Home Indiana Part 6

@anne-bennett-cosplayer I hope this is enough time to recover from that last line. It's technically been 3 business days.

That last line was mean, and I'm sorry. So for being so mean, here's Claudia Henderson with some very tough love for Eddie.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Eddie had done some serious groveling that night. He didn’t know how he could make up for all the hell he’d put Steve through. How does one even begin to make up for a decade worth of shitty behavior?

Especially since it was clear that the one thing that would make it all worth it was if Eddie came back to Steve and he couldn’t do that. Not to Chrissy. Not when she needed him the most.

He did the only thing he could think of and talk to the people who still cared about Steve. He started with Claudia Henderson. Even though she wasn’t Steve’s birth mother, she was more his mom then that shrew ever was.

She gathered him into a hug when he showed up on her doorstep.

“I was wondering when your shadow would darken my doorway,” Claudia said, as she lead the way to the kitchen.

Eddie winced at the harsh words even if they gently given. He looked around the small house, Dustin’s mark stamped on every corner even though he had moved out long ago. But more surprisingly was Steve’s touch had found its way into the decor. And not just his photos on the wall either.

It was in the Pacers blanket on the loveseat, the baseball bat by the front door, the bright yellow pillows on the sofa. Steve was loved here and god did that make Eddie’s heart ache.

He sat down at his usual spot at the counter and watched as she bustled around the kitchen getting him cookies and glass of milk.

“Why are you even here, Eddie?” she asked in that tough but loving way she always had. “You broke his heart and then threw it away.”

Eddie took bite of the cookie to give him time to formulate an answer. “Because I know I fucked up, okay? But the only way I can see to fix it is to come back to him and I can’t do that. I can’t tell you why, just know she’s in trouble and this is the only option we have.”

Claudia let out a long sigh and leaned on the counter. “You always did know the right things to say.”

“Not when it comes to him,” he scoffed, staring down at his milk like it would give him the answers. “I keep making it worse.”

She hummed her agreement. “That’s certainly true. But I think that was more about you trying to protect your heart from getting hurt, only you ended up hurting his instead.”

Eddie just dunked his cookie without comment, because he knew she was right. It was never about Steve. It was about all the people who hated him, who strung him along until they had their fun, about his mom dying and his dad leaving, about the band deciding they just didn’t want to do it anymore.

He loved being a tattoo artist, but that wasn’t the dream.

“What would you do or tell Dusty if it was him you’d come to see after a decade apart?” Claudia asked, looking up at him.

Eddie sat back in the stool and sighed. “How much I missed him and then I would try to spend as much time with him as possible.”

“There you have it,” she said. She straightened up and knocked on the counter twice. “The bakery is closed Fridays and the carnival is in town. Why don’t you take him and get to know who he is now, all right?”

He rubbed his face and sighed again. “Yeah, if he’ll even go with me. He probably already has a hot date lined up, though.”

Claudia shook her head. “At least not that he’s told me, anyway. In fact he was lamenting that he was thinking about not going because Robin had a date, but he didn’t and he didn’t want to third wheel it.”

That was so like Steve. Instead of finding someone to go with him, like a friend or something, he would just not go. Tell them to have fun without him.

“I guess the worse that could happen is have him curse me out and hang up,” Eddie said with wry smile. “And considering I’ve already had the pleasure once, a second time isn’t going to change much.”

She lifted her chin. “Well go on, then. If you think he’s going to cuss you out, call him. I want to see this.”

Eddie stuck his tongue out at her like a petulant child. But did as he was told.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve greeted, picking up the phone almost immediately.

His heart stuttered in his chest at the old nickname. “Hey, Stevie. I hear the carnival was in town this week and wanted to see if you want to go.”

“With you? Or with a group or whatever?” Steve asked, his voice pitching a little higher than normal.

“Just me,” Eddie confirmed. “When would be good for you?” He looked up at Claudia who had the smuggest grin on her face. He stuck his tongue out at her again.

“Oh, I–um...” he stammered. “Well, I was thinking of opening the shop on Friday even though I don’t usually because I was closed on Sunday.”

Eddie winced. He had a pretty good idea why Steve’s shop was closed on Sunday. Steve had called to bitch him out on Saturday evening when the special courier delivered the annulment papers. Something the law firm had paid for so they wouldn’t lose their best legal assistant.

“But sure, I could use a proper day off for a change,” Steve was saying when Eddie’s brain finally came back on. “How about two o’clock?”

“That’d be great,” he said a small, fond smile on his face. “I can’t wait. I haven’t been to a proper carnival in years.”

“Perks of living in a small town, I guess,” Steve replied.

Eddie started playing with his hair. “One of the few. Can’t say I’m a fan of the homophobia.”

Steve laughed, bright and sweet. “Yeah, okay. You got me there. Look I’ve got to go, Robin’s giving me the stink eye and I really should get back to work.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I talk to you later.” He hung up and refused to look Claudia in the eye. He knew what he was going to see anyway. Her arms crossed over her chest and a triumphant smile on her face.

“I don’t believe I heard any cursing on that call,” she said dryly. He looked up at her and he as right about everything about how she was looking at him, only with the addition of a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah well,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. “He always was a stubborn bastard and having to prove me wrong.”

Claudia’s face crumpled a bit. Because yes, Eddie had done a lot of harm to their relationship, Steve wasn’t exactly blameless in the whole ordeal. Because Max’s situation aside, Eddie was right that ‘the kids’ had families and parents of their own. That they had people who would look out for them. And if Steve hadn’t stepped up in Max’s case, she sure as hell would have. The awkwardness between Max and Dustin be damned.

If Steve had loved Eddie as much as he claimed, he wouldn’t have tried to force the metalhead to chose between his friends and his husband.

“He is that,” she admitted gently. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you two. You were always a better person when you were together, than when you were apart. And yes, he’s struggled a lot since you left, but looking at you now, I can see that the years haven’t been kind to you either.”

Eddie huffed. “That’s what Uncle Wayne said. That I lost my sparkle or whatever.”

Claudia came around the corner and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back tight.

“Your uncle is right, sweetie,” she murmured into his hair. “We only want you to be happy and it doesn’t feel like you are. You say you’re getting married, but where’s the bounce in your step and the smile that won’t stop? Like when you and Steve had come back from a week vacation married if only in the state of Massachusetts.”

He let out a shuddering breath and then another. Soon he was just sobbing. Crying like he couldn’t stop.

Eddie had never wanted to hurt Steve and he was sure Steve felt the same about him.

She soothed him with whispered assurances and stroking his hair. Soon enough he had slowed to a hiccuping sniffle and Claudia stepped back so she could look him in the eyes.

“I have a pretty good idea what’s really going on,” she said firmly. “And you’re being really sweet, but before you do something you regret, spend time in town. Take a look at the things that have changed and all the ones that haven’t. Then decide if it’s still the right thing to do.”

He gulped. He had no doubt that she had figured it out. She was Claudia Fucking Henderson, of course she did.

“You won’t tell anyone,” Eddie asked, tears threatening to spill again, “will you?”

She shook her head. “No, your secret is safe with me. I won’t make things harder on you then they need to be.”

She hugged him again and Eddie felt like he was home for the first time in over five years.

****

“Just where are you taking me, old man?” Eddie teased. He had met his uncle for lunch after being emotionally rung out at the Henderson place.

“You need a pick me up,” Wayne said, “and I need my afternoon brownie. Come along.”

Eddie came to an abrupt stop. “Um...I’ll wait out here, then.”

Wayne looked up at the shop’s sign and then back at him. “Look, son, you’re going to have to face him eventually. Especially with you going to carnival together and all.”

Eddie dug his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and followed Wayne dutifully into the bakery.

“Hey Mr. Munson!” Steve greeted cheerfully. “You here for your usual?”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me ‘Wayne’?” he asked with a chuckle, walking up the to counter.

Steve blushed and hung his head. “I guess I’m just old fashioned.” He cleared his throat and straightened up. “So what can I get you and your shadow today?”

Wayne reared his head back and then looked over his shoulder to see Eddie hanging back, but sticking as close to him as possible.

“That’ll be two monsters, one of your apple fritters, and a half dozen of your snickerdoodles,” he said shaking his head. Then he turned to Eddie. “And what do you want?”

Eddie’s eyes nearly burst out of his head. Steve and Wayne laughed.

“I suppose I should have said ‘what else do you want?’” Wayne clarified.

Eddie blushed and peered around Wayne’s shoulder to look into the case. “A peanut butter madness, please.”

Steve’s face lit up with delight. “These are the ones Jeff’s mom was slandering with having them stale. They are so much better warm out of the oven. In fact, here!” He grabbed it out of the case and wandered to the back.

He came out a few moments later. Eddie nearly melted from the tantalizing scent of warm brownie filled the air.

“What did you do?” Eddie cried as he reached out with grabby hands.

Steve handed it to him. “Careful, it’s hot. I microwaved it for thirty seconds. Should be perfect now.”

Eddie cautious bite and moaned as soon as the peanut butter hit his mouth. He savored every bit of that first bite. “Fuck, Stevie. These should be a sin.”

Steve smiled and then got to work on the rest of Wayne’s order as Eddie devoured every inch of that brownie.

“How long are you in town for, Eds?” he asked as he handed over the boxes to Wayne.

Eddie grabbed a paper napkin from the dispenser by the register and wiped off his hands and mouth of the gooey remains.

“I’ve got to back by Monday,” he said, a tad mournfully. He never thought he’d miss this place after spending so long running from it. The town. Not the bakery. Though he had spent a lot of his time running from its owner, too.

Steve’s own smile faltered a bit too. “Not even a whole week, huh? I guess there really is no rest for the wicked.”

They chatted for a bit before more customers came in and Steve had to get back to work. Eddie and Wayne walked out of the shop laden with goodies. Steve had divided them up for Eddie and Wayne separately. Wayne handed Eddie his box.

“Now was that so terrible?” he asked with big grin.

“No.”

Because it really wasn’t. In fact it was kinda nice just chatting with Steve.

Leaving was looking more and more bleak with each passing moment.

****

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List:

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @ravenfrog @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @vecnuthy @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

7- @blackpanzy @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras

8- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites

9- @mac-attack19 @blondie1006

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rom com au

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sparklypinkflightsuit · 7 months ago

Text

Stars Align: Part 5

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mentions of Abuse, Eventual Smut, Violence, Alcohol, Sexual Themes, Hidden Feelings, Swearing, Cheating, Established Relationship.

-- Part 4 Here --

________________________

18+ Only

________________________

Past:

You and Bradley didn't speak for a few days after your conversation at the beach, but you felt your cold shoulder beginning to fade when Bradley showed up at your door with a bunch of daisies in his hand, which he thrust at you as soon as you opened the door.

''What are these for?'' you asked.

''For whatever I did to piss you off, I'm sorry.'' he said genuinely, and it broke your heart that you'd made him think he'd actually done something wrong.

''It wasn't you, Bradley, I'm sorry for the way I acted.'' You apologised softly.

Bradley grinned and softly punched your shoulder, ''Besties again?''

You chuckled, ''Never stopped, Bradshaw.''

Things went mostly back to normal after that, with Bradley still spending most of his time with you. There was the odd occasion Michelle would call Bradley and ask to meet up, where he'd disappear for a while, only to reappear at your house the next day as if he never left.

Bradley didn't say much about Michelle around you, obviously sensing your dislike for her, but it became more and more obvious that they were getting closer and closer to doing the deed, when Carole let slip one night that Bradley had a romantic date planned for her.

You wanted to be sick at the thought, but instead you smiled at her and mumbled 'That's nice, hope you two have a good time.' as Bradley blushed a bright shade of crimson, you both going back to the lovely dinner Carole had cooked for you.

''So, what's this date you've told me nothing about?'' you chuckled as Bradley walked you home that evening, the cool air wafting his poofy dark hair over his eyes. He smoothed his hair back and chuckled awkwardly.

''It's nothing, just dinner. A picnic actually, up on the hill.''

''Are you gonna... you know?''

''Gosh I dunno, Birdy, what's with the interrogation?'' he flushed.

You were both quiet for a moment, until you neared your front lawn and looked up at him, ''For what its worth, I don't think she's right for you. I think you can do better, Rooster.''

Bradley was about to speak, when your dad walked outside.

''Ah, I'm glad you're both here. Can you two come inside for a second, we need to talk.'' your dad said sombrely, and you could see your mother in the hallway, her eyebrows creased.

''What is it, dad?'' you asked as you walked towards him.

''Just come inside.''

__________________________

Present:

Your most important things were packed in a suitcase, the rest still in your apartment. You'd signed a year lease so you thought at the very least if things panned out, you could use it as a storage unit until things were set up in California.

The plane landed and your stomach was in knots. You hadn't told Bradley you were coming yet, and as you left the airport and got in a cab, you suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea.

It was too late to turn back when you decided it was, in fact, a very bad idea, because you were already pulling up outside of Bradleys bungalow. You took a deep breath as you paid the driver, and you swallowed down the nerves as you took your suitcase out of the trunk. You thought you were going to vomit as you walked up to the front door and knocked.

You waited for what felt like an agonisingly long time, but when the door finally swung open, you knew you'd made the right decision.

''Birdy?'' Bradley breathed in disbelief, his hands cupping his mouth as his eyes scanned your face.

''Hope that invitation is still valid.'' you joked sheepishly.

Bradley lunged forwards and swept you up in his big burly arms, you dangled helplessly like a doll in an overly early childs hands, and you chuckled as he buried his face in your neck.

When he finally put you down, you grinned up at him, and noticed his Adams Apple bobbing, he was trying not to cry.

''Oh, you big softie.'' you punched his shoulder and he chuckled, rubbing his eyes.

''I just can't believe you're here. I didn't think you'd come.''

''Well, are you gonna make me live out here on the porch or can I come in?'' you teased.

''Right! Come in, I have a room for you.'' Bradley stepped to the side and grabbed your suitcase. He gave you a quick tour of the little bungalow that you thought seemed too small for a man of his stature, and lastly to the bedroom he'd prepared, just in case you came.

''Wow, Brad, I thought you said you didn't think I was coming?'' you breathed. The room was already set up, pink floral duvet covers and fluffy pillows awaited you, a poster of your favourite boy band in school, and the canvas you'd painted with Bradley stood pride and centre on the wall.

''I know, but I hoped.'' he said simply.

You looked up at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him down to your height. You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and then wrapped your arms around his neck.

''Thank you.'' you whispered as you hugged him.

''Anything for my lil Bird.''

It took a while for you to let go, but when you did Bradley left you to unpack and relax for a while.

You walked around your room and smiled, it was simple and mostly empty, but it had a sense of home that your apartment in New York didn't have.

You sat on the bed and breathed in the smell of sea air wafting in through your windows.

Once you'd unpacked and changed into a more summery dress, you met Bradley in the lounge, the sound of a football match roaring through the speakers. Bradley turned the tv off as you walked in, smiling at you.

''California suits you.'' he grinned.

You swished your dress from side to side, ''Yeah, I think so too.'' you winked.

''How do you feel about meeting some of my friends?'' Bradley asked, as he stood and met you at the centre of the room. He stood over you, tauntingly close, the smell of his cologne teasing your nostrils.

''You mean that blond guy, Jake?'' you scrunched up your nose.

''There are others, I promise.'' he chuckled, cupping your face in both of his huge hands. He stared down at you so intently, for a moment you forgot where you were.

''Why are you looking at me like I'm not real?'' you breathed out a soft, awkward laugh.

''Because I'm scared you're not and I'm gonna wake up without you.'' he said earnestly. Your heart thudded against your chest as his face grew closer, his eyes dipping to your lips.

Knock Knock Knock

Bradleys front door suddenly interrupted you, and you both stepped back, looking at each other for a moment, before Bradley went to answer it.

''I may have texted the group that you're here, I think they took that as an invitation to come and meet you.'' he said apologetically. You laughed as he opened the door and 5 people walked in.

''Hello again little lady.'' Jake, the only one you recognised, grinned at you, toothpick between his teeth.

''Hi, Jake.'' you smiled politely back.

Bradley introduced you to the others as they filtered in, each toting various drinks and bags of snacks.

''This is Nat, Bob, Reuben, and Javy. You'll meet Mickey at some point but he's on his honeymoon at the moment.''

You said hello to everyone, and Nat pulled you in for a hug. She reminded you a lot of Gabby, and you suddenly remembered you needed to give her a call later.

''It's so great to finally meet you, Rooster has been talking about you for years!'' Nat laughed.

''Great to meet you too! Years, huh?'' you shot Bradley a quizzical glance, and he just rolled his eyes.

You all filtered out into the little back yard, where Jake and Javy fired up the grill as everyone got to know you, drinks at hand and before long laughter filling the little yard.

Bradley made his way over to where you and Bob were talking, slinking an arm casually over your shoulder as he took a swig of beer. He joined in the conversation and didn't notice as someone new walked out the back door.

Bob noticed first, and tapped Bradley on the shoulder, his eyes shooting over to the new comer to alert Bradley.

''Hi all!'' she chirped, ''The door was open, hope you don't mind if I join?''

Bradley groaned, moving his arm off of your shoulder as he turned to face her.

''Hey, Alice. Sorry I was gonna call you.'' he said awkwardly as he walked over to the leggy blond.

''Alice, this is my best friend, Y/N.'' He said introducing you with a grin.

And then half heartedly and with a sheepish look, he turned to look at you, ''Y/N, this is Alice... my girlfriend.''

__________________________________

Past:

“What do you mean? Why can’t you just do that job here?” You demanded.

You were sitting in your living room across from your parents, Bradley was next to you with his face in his hands.

“There isn’t a position here for me, Y/N. This job is going to sort out so much debt for us-“ your mom nudged your dad and shook her head to stop him from talking.

“Are we having money problems?” You asked softly.

Bradley lifted his head and looked around with furrowed eyebrows.

Your dad sighed, looked at your mom and she took over, “We’re fine, but we are struggling. This job is our only choice. I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s going to be difficult, but Bradley can come visit whenever and you can stay with them during summer vacation.”

Your parents left you shell shocked in your living room with Bradley, who just looked at you with wide, watery eyes.

“Well, I guess that’s it then…” you mumbled.

“No, it can’t be. I haven’t planned for a life without you, what am I supposed to do when you’re gone?” Bradley suddenly exploded, standing to his feet so quickly it startled you.

He began to pace, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna be stuck with Michelle as my only source of company.” He ranted.

“Isn’t that what you want?” You asked softly.

Bradley looked at you like you’d just asked the most stupid question ever, “No! God no! She’s boring, and stuck up, and rude, when I’m with her all I can think about is getting out.”

“Then why are you with her?” You shook your head in exasperation.

“Because… you don’t get it, Birdy. I’m the only one in my grade that hasn’t… you know. I needed someone experienced who I could do it with.” He groaned, sitting back down and putting his hands over his face.

“Brad, why didn’t you tell me that’s the only reason? If you’re gonna lose your… you know, it should be with someone you actually care about.” You said gently, placing a hand on the top of his arm. He lowered his hands and looked at you for a while.

Bradley sighed, “The only person in this whole damn town I care about is you.”

You were about to respond when your brother walked into the room and wailed dramatically.

“Have you heard the news? Our lives are over!”

—————————————

Present:

“Girlfriend? Oh, hi, nice to meet you.” Your voice was small and shaky, and you had to clear your throat.

Bob noticed the awkward tension and was the first one to realise what was happening.

“Oh my god! Bradley talks about you non stop! So nice to finally meet you, girl!” Alice squealed, hugging you.

Bob cleared his throat, “Y/N, do you mind helping me grab some of the food from the kitchen?” Bob asked, looking you in the eye and giving you a signal.

You nodded and excused yourself, and as soon as you were in the kitchen, you let out a long shaky breath, tears prickling your eyes. You had just made a horrible mistake coming here.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bob asked, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“Yep. I just… I need to call someone. Excuse me.” You rushed off to your bedroom and closed the door, pressing your back up against it as you breathed through the sudden panic.

You found your phone on the nightstand and dialled Gabby’s number.

As soon as she answered, you began to sob uncontrollably.

“Y/N! What’s going on, can you breathe for me please?” She called over the phone.

You attempted to pull in a few short breaths until you were calm enough to speak.

“I’m such an idiot!” You cried.

“Why? What’s happening? You scared me when you left this morning.”

“I… I went to California. Bradley asked me to, so I did, I thought he wanted me here because he felt the same.” You sniffled.

There was a brief silence on the other end, “He doesn’t?” She sounded surprised.

“He has a girlfriend, Gabs, one he never told me about.”

“Ohhh, fuck. Have you met her?”

“Yeah, just now. I was so blindsided I must have come across as rude. I can’t believe I thought Bradley and I had any future, or that he loved me the way I love him. I’ve loved him for what feels like my whole life, Gabs, when am I going to realise I can’t have him?” You wept.

Suddenly the door creaked, and you turned around suddenly to face Bradley, who stood in the doorway with his mouth slightly ajar and his eyebrows furrowed, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill over.

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “Gabby I have to go.” You hung up and dropped your phone on the bed.

“Brad-“

He held up a hand to shush you, and edged into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t speak.” He said as he crossed the room. He stood over you and a large hand came up to thread through your hair and cup your cheek.

A tear dropped down your face as you looked up at him, your lip quivering.

“Did you mean what you just said?” Bradley whispered, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest against yours, your lips inches apart, his warm breath on your skin.

“Yes.” you croaked out. And that’s all you needed to say, because Bradley’s lips came crashing down on yours, taking your breath away. The room spun as your eyes widened, and then gradually fluttered shut.

His other hand cradled the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, moaning into your lips.

The tears fell faster now as your heart felt as if it was exploding, the fireworks inside you turning your skin alight. You grabbed a fistful of Bradley’s shirt, holding on for dear life as the feeling you’d waited decades for was finally washing over you, better than you'd ever imagined, buckling your knees from underneath you.

Bradley’s hand moved from the back of your head to your lower back and he pulled you into him, holding you up, and still it wasn’t enough, you wanted more, desperate for more, hungry for more, but your conscious suddenly rocked through you like a bolt of lightning and you pushed against Bradley’s chest. You broke away from him with a gasp as you fought for breath. Your hand moved up to your chest to soothe the thrumming inside as you panted.

Bradley looked at you with a confused, longing expression, fighting for his own breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bradley demanded, his face flushed and lips beautifully swollen.

You bit your lip and shook your head before you breathed a laugh, “Would it have made a difference?”

“Yes, Birdy, it would have made all the difference.” He nodded, hands on his hips as he contemplated your words.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend before I flew out here?” You asked him sadly.

“I… I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t know you felt that way.” He looked at his feet.

You shook your head again as you sighed, “I’ve loved you since that stupid moustache began to grow, Brad. In fact I think I loved you the second you saved me on my first day of school.” You breathed.

Bradley’s eyes shot up to meet yours, his bottom lip wobbled as he nodded, “Yeah, that’s about the same time I fell in love with you, too, Birdy.”

You opened your mouth to speak but a sharp knock rasped against your bedroom door and you jumped. The door opened and Bob poked his head through.

“Uhm… you guys should probably come outside.”

—————————————

-- Part 6 Here --

Taglist now open 💛 please let me know if you'd like to be added!

@dizzybee03

@lucyjenniferx

#miles teller x reader #miles teller #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #romance

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shinnyshining · 1 month ago

Text

Things I brought today (mostly at the SE exhibition) and some opinions about the whole experience

I couldn’t get everything I wanted I over estimated how much cash I’ll need to have with me so I’ll probably will go again tomorrow

Which is the last day so I need to go early…

I also couldn’t get that one frame magnet I wanted…volume 5 my dads….no… I’ll….I have no choice but to get the whole set just to get them guaranteed cuz I cant go back to the shopping area onceI exit the shop 😭

And its all sold out in the second hand listings on mercari jp ,…hope the whole box is somewhat affordable

Anyway…if I get doubles, yall know how to dm me ;3

Also I got the kid ,liz and patty shikishi as you can see and I only hope to get soul and maka tomorrow cuz its so expensive on mercari I wont be paying 3000 yen just for a shikishi no waaay

WAIT

I FORGOT

I got the only cute exhibition keychain because ohkubo gave them very questionable angled illustrations which didnt translate well in merchs in my opinion ESPECIALLY on the acrylic stands they look nightmare fuels, but crona is fine (I sense some favoritism ngl) patty was cute too actually but I was on a budget

Anddd I got the badges from blind bags so its all gacha I like crona though Im happy and I will give the tsubaki one to a friend.

There were two entry tickets one was 2500 yen as standart

And the other was 3000 yen with limited goods which was this wristband , I think for 500 yen more it was worth it I might get another one tomorrow with entrance its high quality and soft

Lastly if you brought anything over 5000yen total you get this bag, but you wont get a double for every 5000 you buy, quickly learned since I spended around 11k with some goods I picked for my friend, so if anyone is interested in going to the Osaka venue, just so you know if you go with a friend you may wanna pay separately if you want a bag for every each one of you

Also tip from me: dont be stupid like me and bring more money with you if theres something you want that is not guaranteed and is in a blind bag…cuz the chances of you getting lucky is not reliable and if you are as desperate as me you’ll pay for another entrance😭😭😭

Especially cuz you cant go back there if it turns out you didn’t get what you wanted, you’ll need another ticket so…buying the box seems more worth it (only if you need and want something absolutely that you’ll go that far) (actually its not a super big deal for badges and limited shikishi boards and cards since there aren’t many designs. But the mangets…they have 16 designs so it is pricey)

Now as for the exhibition hall itself, most things were okay to photograph and its consisted of mostly manga panels and official arts,there were cool cut outs and giant volume covers on the walls. seeing the panels upclose was interesting especially cuz I do comics as well and aspire to do it professionally in the future

But I guess the coolest experience is that they fully voice acted a certain chapter from the manga (didn’t finish it yet so I don’t know which) but it was so cool cuz it was all newly voiced (manga only duh) and the visuals were in a dynamic video edited pretty well, there were some live 2d just a little but it was there, it was not allowed to film that there which gives me hope that they will upload it to socials after the exhibition fully ends nationwide. But you never know

(italso gave me hope for a possible remake but I don’t wanna get my hopes up)

Anyway I might make a google drive with everything I took pictures of later , Im kinda tired today

but I wanna say to those who have high expectations for this exhibition

don’t expect something revolutionary.unfortunately it was mostly manga pages displayed (the giant official art were cool though cuz you could see more details of them) and as for props, aside from some decorations hanging from the walls and cielings here and there there was a shinigami sama cut out and the mirror, but thats about it) so definitely a little underwhelming for a 20th anniversary exhibition , at least from my expectations

I enjoyed it because I like Soul Eater and Im pretty hyperfixated on it right now, but that doesn’t keep me away from criticizing it and I do just that CUZ I LIKE SOUL EATER

there were so many things they could do and honestly for 20th anniversary it was pretty small and the exclusive merchandise was just… meh??? especially the illustrations made specifically for the Exhibition itself (which wasn’t even that much just the main 3 duo/trio’s) Honestly I have to say Im quite disappointed with Ohkubo it seemed like he didn’t give his all designing the illustrations. they didn’t even performed well as various types of goods and ,sure, he made a design and its not that bad , but he could at least draw them again with no weird angling that only looks okay in a promotional poster, aside from that, you know the magnets are made from previously made official arts and manga covers, there were some cool stuff like kid’s skateboard and Soul’s jacket but those are made to order and you can’t even get them there at the time,

NOT TO MENTION THIS SUPER COOL ART WAS NI WHERE TO BE FOUND AT THE GOODS SHOP IT IS A MISSED OPPORTUNITY TO ME!!

A mini acrylic stand of this could be sooo cool 😭😭😖

The nuis are cool it was well overdue I hope they will make more characters in the future they should capitalize on them a bit more

Tote bags , hoodies and such were something to be expected from exhibitions like this Im not really impressed but they were nice as designs

But my opinion is set, they could’ve done so much more for this exhibition and it was a little underwhelming so only consider attending if you like to see official arts and manga panels up close, and if you like to interact with very limited props and watching the exclusive manga voice acting (to me that alone is worth to visit ngl) and of course the goods, only if you’re interested in

I do some theories why this exhibition was the way it is I mainly think, the budget was set and it was not much to do more than what we got especially considering the made to order goods, but it gives me hope, even after 20 years I think Soul Eater as a series is still profitable and I hope this exhibition does well enough for the higher ups to consider making more things in the future

Thats all from Shining today :3

#SE #soul eater #soul eater exhibition #offical goods #merch #Shining’s yapping #maka albarn #soul evans #soul eater evans #death the kid #thompson sisters #patricia thompson #elizabeth thompson #tsubaki nakatsukasa #black star #very unnecessary shopping information

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horny-p0et · 23 days ago

Text

sfw dadbur blurb

so sorry this second part took forever 🦭 anon, hope it was worth the wait! this was also sort of weird to write since i don't ever want kids lol. made this sort of vague, any gender and ages from infant to child. enjoy some cute fluffy stuffs, got a lot of writing in my drafts that should be coming soon enough :) askbox open for requests and anything else you wanna send my way.

nsfw dadbur here

warnings: none, just fluff c:

wordcount: 493

dont like, dni. please just block me and move on.

────୨ৎ────

taking any excuse to bring up his kid, even for the most minor reason. someone's eating icecream? he's telling a story about how they made a mess of some vanilla last night. a cute plushie in a storefront? he's bragging about his kid's impressive collection and love for stuff toys.

sings lullabies to them every night, sometimes with a guitar but usually with the baby cradled to his chest as he sings 'la vie en rose' until they fall asleep.

once they're big enough he tries to get them into music, they've always loved listening to him play and slapping their tiny fingers against the strings. ends up buying them their own ukulele when they're 5, practicing with them during his free time.

starts taking them to rehearsals, making sure they're wearing big headphones to keep their ears safe. smiling when he sees you two on the other side of the recording glass, distracting him from the chords he's supposed to be playing.

takes a million photos and videos of ever milestone or tiny moment. doesn't post any of them, but shows all his friends and family, he's endlessly proud of his baby.

while he's away on tour it breaks him, knowing he's missing crucial bonding moments. you remind him its his job, and he can facetime you guys anytime he wants, even to just say hi. sings and plays soft acoustic songs in videos to play for the baby when they ask for daddy.

cuddles you with a possessive hand on your tummy, thumb rubbing circles on the flesh as he quietly asks if you want to make your family a little bigger. he's an only child, and he likes the idea of having a big, loving family.

when baby two comes along, the first is starting primary school and growing up fast. watches with a dumb smile on his face as the older one teaches the toddler to play piano, although its more mashing keys awkwardly. but they're both giggling and laughing, and its probably a better song that he's ever written.

gets more protective of you after the pregnancies, keeping his arm or hand on you at all times. hates how much of the burden of housework you have to take care of due to his busy schedule. goes out of his way to pick up the slack when he's home, even if its just a night catching up on laundry while you sleep on the couch with the kids nuzzled up under each arm.

writes soft, acoustic songs he knows his kids can play even with their growing skills. encouraging them every step of the way as they grow attached to certain instruments and genres.

doubted if he could be a good dad, wasn't really sure how to do it and there isn't a rule book. but any doubts he has melted away when he held his baby the first time. everything made sense, and everything would be okay.

────୨ৎ────

taglist: @lillyspeakz@multifandomhallucinations@xxvalentinezxx@charlidog@bellelikesmcyt@heartofwritiing @imahugenerdlol (reply or send an ask to be added/removed)

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wss #wilbur support squad #🦭 anon

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wooahaeruby · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 2: Nothing is Easier Than I Thought

Chapter Word Count: 3,654

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev | Next

September 2015

Why you took a 6:30 PM class your first semester, you will never understand. Some part of you said it was to cram as many classes into one day to maximize your time on other days for homework, studying, and your part time job, but your already tired brain protested. Linguistics was already a hard major to begin with, you were learning three languages; Spanish, Japanese, and Korean, but you debated Mandarin, each you knew to some capacity.

The past couple days, you have been able to feel the anxious and restless feelings of your soulmate. Whoever they were, they haven’t let you have a single day of proper sleep in the past week and with it only being the second week on campus, you were already sick of it. You had hoped your soulmate was feeling your agitation and exhaustion.

Halfway through your two hour long class, an unexpected wave of tiredness washed over you. All the energy you previously had from the energy drink earlier in the evening was wiped away in an instant. At the front of the room, the words coming from the professor were falling on deaf ears, barely able to keep your head up at this point. Your own exhaustion mixed with your soulmate’s feeling had brought you to the brink of passing out. The anxiety that once nestled beside your emotions had faded and yet a burst of joy and excitement filled its space with ease.

For a moment, you rested your head down on your notebook, scoffing quietly to yourself at the odd mix of emotions. Whatever they were going through hopefully is worth it. Although agitation still rested under your skin, a sense of amusement came from your end.

As the rest of class dragged on, you kept yourself awake and coherent enough to take notes and get back to your dorm. Bursts of energy and excitement were pushed through from the bond you shared, your limbs felt strained, on fire even, but the longer it went on the more you got used to the sensation of physical exertion. The walk back to your dorm hall was a feat, honestly you don’t know how you managed to get up three flights of stairs and unlock your door before falling face first onto your bed. Your roommate wasn’t home, she usually came back later after studying until the library closed, which gave you the peace to just take everything and hopefully let it lull you to sleep.

In your semi-conscious state, you wondered who your soulmate was. All the emotional states they had placed you in the last couple months were not what you expected, but the curiosity was eating you up some inside. When there was a feeling of genuine joy that came amidst it all had you compiling a list of exactly what type of life they lived. Were they an adventurous person that explored things outside of their comfort zone? Were they a normal person with everyday anxiety that found happiness in overcoming their fears? Did they gain the physical strain from a demanding job?

Honestly you couldn't tell what their schedule was either. They slept at random hours, and had sudden bursts of energy throughout the day. It confused you when you tried to think about the life they lead.

Slowly, your thoughts did lull you into a deep sleep knowing your alarm was already set for your afternoon shift at the bookstore on campus.

Their first comeback was highly anticipated, but literally blood, sweat, and tears were shed to make it happen. For months on end, Jihoon had been working on compositions and lyrics, some songs even created before their debut. Sleepless nights, countless fights, and inevitable injuries from overworking themselves has led to this very moment.

It was 5:30 in the morning and he couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. Now sitting in the greenroom, makeup artists, hair stylists, and one of their managers were calling out for members to get ready. The contagious yawns passed through the room ten times over, some younger members were asleep after getting ready, however Woozi wasn’t able to settle in for a short nap. His leg bounced with nervous fidgeting and he messed too much with his clothes to attempt to keep himself calm. Within the next hour the group was to have an easy run through on the stage prior to the pre-recorded video. In the later half of the day, the studio would gather fans and they would perform their newest song, Mansae .

Truthfully, he felt bad for his soulmate. The bout of insomnia he had been experiencing was no doubt putting a damper on their mood, he definitely felt the discontentment and unrest through their bond. With staying up, he noticed how their mood shifted throughout the night for him. It at least gave him the solidified idea that they were from another area of the world. Pushing that aside, it seemed they were stressed as of recent. Nearly two weeks back, there was this underlying emotion of distress that was layered beneath anticipation and determination.

Somewhere in the final rush of costumes, hair and makeup, Jihoon felt a firm pat to his back and that same arm wrapping around his shoulder as they walked down the hall to the elevators.

“ Jihoon-ah! Let’s give it our best out there! ” The loud and energetic voice of Soonyoung rang loudly in his ear, making him wince slightly.

“ I’m right next to you, why are you yelling? ” Jihoon’s nose scrunched up as he grimaced, rolling his shoulders to remove the other’s arm from his body. “ And don’t yell, you will hurt your throat. ”

Soonyoung only laughed, a wide smile spreading on his face and he continued to walk beside his shorter friend. “ Energy needs to be up, I’m nervous as hell but I can’t let that stop me. ”

With a roll of his eyes and a small shake of his head, Jihoon watched as Soonyoung walked off to throw himself over Seokmin’s back. Their practice run was simple enough, camera direction and mic checks came back positive. Stylists went around fixing any outfits, hair, or touching up spots in their make up before they were ready for the recording.

Jihoon shook out his limbs before adjusting the mic in his hand. Taking his position on stage towards the back, he let the nerves drive him once the music started playing through his in-ear headset. No matter how fast the adrenaline made his heart race, no matter the difficulty in some of the choreography, he took the stage by storm with his members. It was one of the longest three minutes of his life up until now, sweat matted parts of his pink and blond hair, his feet hurt and his limbs were already growing sore from the tired strain.

However, he felt happy, overjoyed even. As the production crew gave praise for their expressions, hard work, and perseverance, excitement bubbled in his chest at the thought of performing in front of their fans further into the day. Getting back into the greenroom was no different, words of praise came from Seungcheol, their managers and staff were proud.

What he didn’t expect in the end was the outside feeling of amusement that wedged its way from the soulmate bond with fading agitation and fatigue. His heart grew a little bigger at that moment.

2016

How could one person be so…focused? But happy about that focus.

It was a question you asked yourself on a nearly constant basis the last few months. Back in September, there was a nearly month-long period of debilitating tiredness all hours of the day pushing through the bond. It made your ability to stay awake and attentive in class hard and by the end of the day, you were crashing while barely getting through your homework and work. Now, in your second semester of college and a more spread out schedule, the breaks you gave yourself seemed to help with your soulmates physical exertion.

Spring break had brought you home to your maternal grandparents who had been begging you to come visit sooner. They had welcomed you into your childhood home, still the same old decorations that never truly passed the test of time.

“Sweetheart, go freshen up upstairs, take a nap, you’ve been working so hard and you barely stayed too long during your winter time off.” Your grandmother ushered you off towards the stairs, taking your backpack and small suitcase. “And don’t come down until you at least get an hour or sleep, you hear me!?”

A laugh bubbled out of your throat, rolling your eyes. “Yeah yeah, Mimi, just don’t start blasting your old lady music until I’m awake!” As you ascend up the stairs, you hear the huffing scoff and a muttering of your words in a mocking tone.

It was early, close to mid-morning, and you had caught the first train that brought you close to your hometown. It was quiet between watching the scenery and feeling the rumble of the train as you sat. For the first time since the semester started, you felt at peace both mentally and physically. You knew once you got back to your dorm, you’d only have a month and a half before the semester was over., You had an amazing internship lined up at an international business that handles multiple different contracts and if you did well they’d be willing to help with your education and continue on your classes regarding business.

The idea alone had put you at ease to say the least. It gave you hope for a brighter future compared to the treacherous childhood you had been through.

To say practice was brutal was an understatement. With only a month left until their new album was to be released, the member’s schedule was packed and tension was high. The lack of sleep and diets have put people on edge, new choreography needed to be hammered out, and with it being a full album, they had a lot riding on their shoulders.

“ Let’s run it from the top again.” Soonyoung called out, but five minutes after they finished their most recent run.

“ Hyung, it hasn’t even been ten minutes, we are gonna wear ourselves out before we even get going again. ” Mingyu protested, lifting his shirt to wipe the beads of sweat that descended down his face from his hairline.

Laying flat on the hard dance room floors to catch his breath, Jihoon let his eyes stay shut to regain any strength in his body. His legs felt like jello and a headache was starting to come on. Lifting his arm and cracking his eyes open, he groaned at the time on his watch: 4:49 PM. They still had over an hour to finish the rest of practice. The worst part? He knew Soonyoung would get annoyed and a fight – verbal one thankfully – would break out between some of the members, which would ruin practice.

Jihoon was even starting to grow frustrated with the recent events. He hated the fighting and he hated seeing his friends – no, his family – suffering for the reality that was being an idol. It wasn’t fair, he knew that like the back of his hand, but this was the life he did sign on the dotted line for.

“ If we get up and get it all done, maybe we can get out of here earlier, right? ” Dino spoke up, sitting beside Jeonghan and Seungkwan on the floor against the mirrors.

Seungkwan leaned his head onto the youngest’s shoulder, speaking gently to him. “ You have wishful thinking, Hoshi-hyung is brutal, you know that. ”

Still with some protests, practice went on, repeating the same dance over and over and over in mind numbing succession. By the time they had wrapped up and were ready to get home, many were close to falling asleep where they stood. The walk home was close, thankfully, yet getting inside and everyone taking showers was a feat still. No one truly had any sense of personal space or quiet with all thirteen sharing a dorm together.

Crawling into bed, Jihoon let the weight of the day slowly slip from his limbs. The tense muscles, pounding headache, and frustration that presented itself to him sometimes were overwhelming, however tonight was different.

Through the bond him and his soulmate shared, there was a creeping feeling of tranquility. It felt so…breathtaking, like fresh air was hitting his lungs for the first time. That peace was mixed with sleepiness, not the usual exhaustion that pushed through. A part of him would laugh if he wasn’t so tired, finding it comical that they were feeling completely opposite states of mind.

“ Goodnight to whoever you are, Soulmate. ”

2017

How could he describe the discomfort in his chest that was throwing him off his entire game?

This year, Jihoon and the rest of his group had done so much. While last year only brought an Asia tour, they successfully finished their first world tour. Not long after settling at home, they released their second full album, Teen, Age, where the group recently finished album promotions.

Sitting in his studio, Universe Factory he called it, Jihoon let the notes of his most recent composition soothe the discomfort that built up. Over the course of a few weeks, the bond had pushed an encroaching amount of hopelessness from his soulmate. It was eating him alive, keeping him awake when he needed the rest to recover from the year. Eating became difficult, motivation was dwindling to even get out of bed even when the feeling wasn’t his own. He was lucky that he made it to the studio tonight.

The members had been hounding him to leave his room, Mingyu specifically since they were sharing a room together in their new dorm. Seungcheol and Jeonghan had offered dinner, Soonyoung offered to go see a movie, and Joshua had suggested just going to the second dorm and watching anime. Each time, he declined, only wanting to stay in and ride through whatever depressive episode they were going through.

Looking about the room now, he sunk back into his chair, contemplating some way to counterbalance this…dejection. It wasn’t easy to fix this, though he didn’t think there wasn’t a way to fix this. You were someone unknown to him, hell he had figured out you were most likely on the other side of the world. The time on his wrist taunted him with the knowledge that both of you had a lengthy time until you were to meet.

A huff left him, raising both hands to rub them over his face to clear his head. He couldn’t even be there to provide any comfort which for one reason or another made him feel immensely guilty.

“ You look like you are going through every emotion at once.” The voice that called out had Jihoon jumping out of his skin.

Meeting the other’s eye, his shoulders deflated at the sight of his leader, holding a bag of what he assumed was takeout food in hand.

“ You know, for someone that tells the other’s to eat, sleep, and stay healthy, you are really bad at following your own advice.” Seungcheol snorted, taking a seat on the couch just behind Jihoon’s desk. He took the time to take the food containers out of the bag and set the spread out for both of them.

With unseen weight pushing down on him, Jihoon trudged his way to the couch and barely managed to miss Seungcheol as he limply sat back on the couch. “ I’m trying to but every time I try to sleep, they are awake feeling so hopeless. I go to eat and I just lose my appetite. I want to be able to help them, I do, but I can’t because destiny says we can’t meet for like 5 more years.”

Quietly, Seungcheol handed a pair of chopsticks to the younger man which were taken and with slight reluctance, Jihoon began eating.

“ Sometimes we have to accept that there is nothing you can do, you realize that, correct? ”

Jihoon hated how right he was, but he would never admit it. Well, maybe he would but not right now. Not while the irrational part of himself was still blaming himself for his soulmate's depression.

In relative silence, the two ate. Beside him, Seungcheol was keeping a watchful eye to see if the other was truly eating and was satisfied he was able to feed the other without much of a fight.

“ Think of it like this, ” Jihoon perked up, “ Channel it into your music, make something for them that makes you feel good. Maybe lifting your mood can help lift theirs?”

Wracking his brain. Seungcheol swore he saw a light bulb appear above the shorter man’s head. Jihoon stood from his spot and hurried over to his computer, nearly smashing the keyboard for the screen to light up again. As soon as he could see, he was clicking around for a file, an unfinished composition that he didn’t know what to do with. The BMP was on the higher end, high energy. He played through it once, twice, and behind him, his leader was already packing up any leftover food to bring back to the dorm at this point.

Coming up behind him, Jihoon jumped when Seungcheol’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“ I’m going to get out of your hair. Be back to the dorm before it gets too late or I’m having Soonyoung or Mingyu drag you back.”

“ Mm, Bye hyung.”

And with that, he began his work once more, a re-found feeling of inspiration and creativity. It took a few hours, much faster than some of the other times it took to refine a piece and perfect lyrics to convey what he wanted. The work flowed easily, a second natural at this point for the young producer. As he worked, Jihoon failed to notice the tiny smile that was spreading across his face.

He let his hands dance across the keyboard, hitting enter as he finally named the file; Run To You .

Pulling up his email, Jihoon sent it to his manager and a few of their album production staff, stating he needed it on the special album, no buts. It needed to be there; for himself and hopefully for his soulmate if they listened to his group.

You felt like you were sinking. The more you attempted to swim up for air, the more you were dragged down by the heavy weights around your ankles that you called life.

Back last month in November, only six or so months since you began your internship. They had offered you a full time job, willing to pay for the rest of your bachelors and fund your masters degree if you stuck with them. You made the agreement to go part time with schooling, exclusively online, 3 classes per spring and fall along with 1 per summer and winter semesters. You already did a decent amount of credits your first four semesters, so you weren’t too worried until the new fall semester hit.

Ever since August, you felt the weight start to build up and push down on you. At first, it was small. Your higher up gave you a lot of responsibility, a large role to fill – your boss said – explaining that your ability to translate and review documentation were exemplary. The fall semester brought your classes for both your majors in order to graduate on time. You were keeping up between lack of sleep and a, somewhat thankfully, eight to four job.

Sure, it wasn’t ideal, you lost time with seeing your friends on campus, but you made just enough money to find a small studio apartment and your grandparents were willing to help with whatever you needed. You were learning to take care of yourself alone, albeit with financial help. With the months passing, you were growing tired, not of your job, honestly you enjoyed the work you were doing, but college was tiring mentally and it ate up any free time you thought you were going to have. Nonetheless, you were doing okay in your classes, As and Bs, you were proud of yourself.

Though, as you sat in the silence of your apartment in the odd hours of the night due to insomnia, you felt so alone…

Your grandparents lived upstate, your friends were on campus near there, everything you knew and found comfort in from your hometown was so…far. It was getting difficult to field your grandparents calls, you were telling the truth, you were working hard, you were doing great in your classes, but you withheld the truth about your mental state.

Curled up under the covers, staring blankly at the yellowed paint of the wall opposite of the windows to your room, you couldn’t sleep. You have barely eaten recently, you know you lost some weight, and you haven’t slept properly in about a week but you were functioning somehow.

A part of you felt guilty. Guilty that you were feeling this depressed over something you would consider so trivial and guilty that your inability to regulate your mental stability that your soulmate was most likely suffering as well. Another part of you wanted to curl up in a corner and just ride it out the best you could, but you knew you had responsibilities to yourself, to your family, and to your soulmate to stay around.

Now in December, you already requested some time off around the holidays to see everyone. Deep down you were praying the time away from everything after finals would be able to help your melancholy mood.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #seventeen jihoon #woozi x reader #svt woozi #soulmate au #seventeen soulmate au #seventeen fic #svt x reader

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late-to-the-party-81 · 10 months ago

Text

Finders Keepers - Chapter Five

AN: Yay! Bucky to the rescue. Thanks for all the love on the last chapter. I hope you like this one just as much. Kisses to you all. This chapter is unbeta’d.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard by me.

Bingo Fills - @buckybarnesbingo Square B1 - Enemies to Lovers

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Chapter Four

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Chapter word count: 3.6k

Chapter CW: Alternating POV, angst, Protective Bucky, feels, growing relationship, mutual pining, there was only one bed, nightmares, hurt/comfort, cuddles, first kiss.

Chapter 5 - A change is as good as a rest

As your heart-rate returned to normal and the levels of adrenaline coursing through your body reduced, your awareness of your surroundings and situation as well as your awkwardness increased. Because here you were, clinging onto your worst enemy like he was some kind of life preserver, covering his jacket with your tears and snot.

As your sobs lessened, you carefully pulled yourself from Bucky’s embrace, almost disappointed when he let you, and rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hands.

“We need to get out of here, doll.” Bucky’s voice was gruffer than usual, and you didn’t want to investigate the reason for that too much.

You moved your head up to look at him, a determined tilt to your jaw. “Not without my leg. Bastards took it and I want it back.”

Bucky’s expression as he took in what you said was a picture and under any other circumstances would have been hilarious. His eyes widened and he looked down at where your legs were partially tucked under you. You could pinpoint the moment the realisation hit because his cheeks suddenly flared red with absolute rage.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he growled, and you suddenly realised that his response was now less hilarious and more arousing, and nope, you weren’t touching those thoughts with a long stick. Instead you reached out and placed your hand on his forearm.

“No, you’re gonna help me find my leg and then we’re gonna leave. They aren’t worth it.”

“But he hurt you,” came Bucky’s curt reply.

“Yes, but I’ll live. If we get out of here quick enough.” It seemed as though your reasoning broke through the caveman attitude and Bucky gave you a small nod before getting to his feet. He held out his hand and without a second thought you took it, allowing him to pull you upright.

“Anything else I need to know about?” His voice was full of concern, and you knew what he was asking.

“No. I’m fine other than this,” you replied, gesturing down to your right leg. “Let’s get a move on.”

However, you hadn’t quite realised how tired your left leg was until you tried a few tentative hops, one hand on the wall and the other still being clasped by Bucky. You tried not to make a sound as the pain of lactic acid build up lanced through your calf and thigh, but apparently there was no hiding your discomfort from the man next to you.

“Shit, doll. You must be in agony. I could…,” he made a scooping motion with his free hand, and as much as you despised the idea of needing help, you recognised it was the most sensible option. Definitely sensible and nothing to do with craving the feel of his body against yours once more.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

You nodded and suddenly you were airborne, scooped up bridal style in Bucky’s arms. You let out an undignified squeal at the abruptness of the action and flung your arms around Bucky’s neck for stability. You saw his lips twitch and a grin made its way across your face, completely unbidden.

“I didn’t see your prosthetic when I came in, but there is an office I didn’t check out. Let’s look there first.”

You vocalised your agreement and Bucky started to walk back down the corridor, his long-legged stride eating up the distance easily. When he got to the office, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flicked towards the other room on the opposite side of the corridor and the way his head cocked to the side as if he were listening. Before you could ask him what was up, he strode through the open door and gently deposited you on top of a desk that was situated against one of the walls.

You looked around, and noticed your backpack against the wall in the opposite corner of the room. The zip was partially undone, because your prosthetic, still complete with its shoe, was poking out of the top. Seeing it so casually discarded made you feel a bit sick.

“There, Bucky. Can you bring me my bag.” You hoped your sensor net was there as well, and not too badly damaged. They weren’t the easiest of things to replace.

“Sure thing, doll.” He retrieved it and passed it over. A quick “thanks,” left your lips and then you were turning all your attention onto checking your prosthetic and sensor net for any dents or tears. You breathed a sigh of relief when your examination showed that surprisingly everything was as it should be and you placed the two items down next to you so you could untie the tattered ends of your pants leg.

A glance out of the corner of your eye showed that Bucky was standing near the door, as if on guard. “What is it?” you asked.

“I knocked out all of the gang in the other room, but most of them were only with stunners. I’m worried they’re going to wake up anytime now. And I only got in because one left to go into the city. I don’t know when he’s going to return.” Bucky didn’t move as he answered you, still keeping his eyes on the corridor.

“I’ll be done in a moment,” you stated and picked up your sensor net, smoothing it over your stump and plugging it into your ports. The feeling you got when you put your leg back into place was almost overwhelming. You’d felt incomplete since you’d woken up here and now you were whole again. You didn’t have time to linger though - Bucky’s fears were well founded and you both needed to get out of here as quickly as you could. You tied the ends of your pants leg together behind your knee and jumped down from the desk. Swinging your backpack over one shoulder you walked over to Bucky.

“Let’s go, Barnes.”

He just needed a moment. A moment to try and hold himself together, so once Bucky got to the second office, he deposited you onto the first suitable space. Because you just felt so right in his arms. And, fuck, when he’d realised what they’d done to you, he’d had to resist the urge to race back down and continue smashing Brock into a bloody mess.

Once he’d retrieved your bag and passed it over, Bucky went and stood by the doorway, not only to make sure there were no telltale movements coming from the other room, but also to give himself a chance to get his emotions back under control. When you asked him your question he couldn’t look at you. Didn’t trust himself just yet. Didn’t trust himself not to say or do something that he shouldn’t, because all he wanted to do was pull you back into his arms, kiss you and never let you go. You were under his skin, in more ways than one - despite his best efforts to prevent it - and you deserved better than him

“Let’s go, Barnes.” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to find you at his elbow, a small smile on your face and your bag slung onto your back. Bucky flashed you a smile of his own and the pair of you walked side by side towards the exit. He made certain to stand between you and the doorway to the other office, shielding you from the sight of Brock lying bloody and broken.

You were just approaching the main entrance, when the door slid open, and the goon who’d left earlier walked back in. All three of you stood stock still for a moment in surprise, staring at each other and then the Hydra guy was walking forwards, aggression plastered over his features. Bucky tightened his hands into fist, preparing to swing hard and fast when suddenly you were moving, arms raised in a defensive guard and you performed a snap kick.

With your right leg.

To the man’s crotch.

Bucky couldn’t hold back a sympathetic wince as the would-be assailant fell to the floor screaming. The next moment you grabbed hold of his forearm and drew him forwards, through the door and out into the night. He matched the pace of your jog, and for the next few minutes the pair of you concentrated on just putting distance between yourselves and the warehouse. It was only as the lights became brighter, the buildings more closely spaced that you both slowed down to a walk.

Bucky’s hand twitched, eager to take hold of yours, but he couldn’t. The silence between you was heavy, laced with something almost tangible, and Bucky wanted it. Wanted it so much it was starting to hurt.

When you suddenly came to halt, he realised he’d been more focused on you than where the pair of you were actually walking. Looking around he realised you’d stopped just down the block from your apartment. He looked back at you, questioningly and you blinked back, shifting your weight from one foot to the other and then seemingly becoming interested in the stitching of his jacket.

“Well, umm. This is me,” you said, uncharacteristically shy. “Thank you again for, err, coming to rescue me. I’d best be…”

“No.”

Your head snapped up then and your eyes narrowed, your usual fire glittering within them. “What do you mean ‘No’? You’re not the boss of me, Barnes.”

Bucky coughed into his fist, feeling off kilter, as surprised by his outburst as you’d been. “Look, I know that. What I mean is… your place isn’t safe, doll. Hydra are down, but not out. And even if they don’t know exactly where you live, they know which area you’re in. God, they took you, from right over there.” He waved his arm in the direction of the alley, his passion growing as he spoke. He saw the way you glanced over and shuddered and in the next moment he’d taken hold of your upper arms. “I gotta know that you’re gonna be alright. I can’t… I can’t…” Words failed him and he knew his emotions were plastered across his face for you to see and right now he didn’t give a damn.

You were looking at him. Really looking at him. And when you opened your mouth again, Bucky prepared himself for another verbal battle.

“Okay,” you said, simply. “I’ll go with you. But I need to get some things first, so let’s be quick.”

You had to admit, the look on Bucky’s face when you agreed with him was priceless. But as much as you hated to admit it, he was right - your place wasn’t safe, and until Hydra were sent packing permanently you needed to be sensible. However, you weren’t going anywhere without a few necessities, so you turned and jogged the few hundred yards to your apartment, Bucky lagging slightly behind, still apparently in a state of shock.

You let yourself in and made your way up the stairs.

“You, erm, you don’t have to come stay with me,” Bucky said nervously from behind you, and you stopped mid-stride and turned to face him. He almost ran into you. “You could go stay with your diner friends. I’m sure they’d love to have you.”

You tossed your head and let out a bark of laughter. “And put them in danger? No way. And also, I absolutely cannot put up with their lovey-dovey shit for longer than it takes me to eat a burger. You don’t know them like I do. Totally besotted with one another and no strangers to PDA. Makes a single person sick, ya’ know? Besides, you rescued me once. I figure there’s no safer place to be than by your side, Barnes. And I’ve always wanted a look at your secret HQ.” Turning back around you allowed yourself to smile at the sound of a huff coming from Bucky and then carried on up the stairs.

“You make me sound like a supervillain, doll,” he grumbled, and man was it cute.

“Nah. More like a superhero. At least to everyone who isn’t me. I still think you’re a dick.” Cute he may be like this, but you still weren’t letting him off the hook for his previous behaviour. And you still didn’t know what to make of this shift in dynamic between you. For all you knew, as soon as Hydra were gone, Bucky could go right back to being an asshole. He chuckled at your comment and then followed you up.

When you stopped outside your door, he almost walked into you again and you saw him look around the corridor, a confused look on his face.

“Which is your apartment?”

A wave of insecurity, tinged with shame washed over you, but you still straightened your spine and put on a brave face.

“Don’t have one,” came your blunt reply, and then you unlocked your door and opened it. “Sorry, you’ll have to stay out here - there isn’t room for both of us.” You stepped in and started to go through your belongings, grabbing a few changes of clothing and other hygiene products and stuffing them into your bag. Bucky hovered in the doorway, but you didn’t look at him. Didn’t want to see the pity on his face now he truly knew your circumstances.

“You live here?” Bucky’s voice was incredulous, and you spun, defensive and ready to rip into him, when he stopped you with his next words. “Resourceful, doll. And actually harder to track. I’d never have thought to look for you in there.”

You sniffed. “It does for me. Got everything I need.”

Bucky leant against the door frame and grinned. “I bet you do. Don’t need help with much, do you? Come on. I’m tired, so you must be exhausted. If we’re lucky we can get the last grav-train and save ourselves a walk.”

You gave him a small smile of your own as you exited your small space and he moved out of the way. “Sounds like a plan. Lead on, Barnes.”

Bucky was in hell. How could he not be when he was tossing and turning in his easy chair and you were only a few feet away, breathing gently as you slept in his bed?

He’d been right about the grav-train and it had greatly reduced the travel time back to his place. He’d watched you stare in awe as he let you in, as you took in the vast wall of monitors and his work bench, scattered with half-repaired items. He could tell you were itching to sit down and continue what he’d started, just for the enjoyment that bringing a device back to proper working condition could elicit. However, he’d been right about your state of tiredness, and it had been easier than he’d thought to convince you to go and take a shower and get ready for bed. You hadn’t even questioned where he was going to sleep or argue about the fact he was obviously giving you the only bed. He found he’d quite enjoyed you just trusting him, despite the fact that your usual sassy attitude both amused and antagonised him in equal measure.

But now here you were, and he hadn’t quite thought through what having you so close to him, yet so far, would actually do to him. You were in his bed, your body scenting his sheets and he wasn’t there with you. With every breath you let out, every move that rustled the coverlet, he had to resist the urge to climb in behind you, pull you against him and hold you tight as you slept. And, god, weren’t these just the feelings he’d been trying to avoid from the first moment you infiltrated your way into his life?

Bucky turned over in the chair, trying to ignore how something was digging into his hip and pulled the blanket up higher, determined to get some sort of rest. He was just starting to float, his body finally relaxing, when a noise brought him back awake. Thoughts fuzzy, he looked around in the dim light and then heard it again. You were whimpering - letting out small noises of distress. He didn’t even think -he knew what it was like to have nightmares triggered by a traumatic event - and moved quietly to your side, perching on the side of the mattress. He didn’t immediately touch you, not wanting to feed into your terror, but spoke softly instead.

“Doll, wake up. It’s alright. You’re safe here. It’s me - Bucky. You’re just dreaming. They can’t hurt you.”

You sat bolt upright, wide eyes reflecting the meagre light and then you were wrapping your arms around him.

“Bucky!” The way you said his name was like a benediction and Bucky immediately pulled you into his embrace, stroking over your hair and shushing you softly as your trembling slowly melted away. As your breathing returned to normal, Bucky loosened his grip, intending to leave you to your rest, but you didn’t let go of him.

“Please,” you begged him with a whisper. “Stay. I don’t want to be alone.”

Bucky froze. He wanted to do exactly as you’d asked, but if listening to you sleep from across the room was hell, this was going to be worse, even though it had been exactly what he’d been thinking about. And then your hand came up and cupped his cheek.

“Bucky, please.”

Bucky knew at that moment that he was gone. He’d never be able to deny you a thing.

“Sure thing, doll. Budge over.”

He watched as you did so, and then lay down next to you, on his back, arms straight out by his sides, staring up into the darkness. He let out a grunt of surprise when you snuggled into his side, throwing your arm across his waist and tangling your ankle with his. Your soft snores filled his ears as you slipped quickly back into slumber. How on earth was he going to sleep like this? Luckily, he found out a few minutes later.

You woke slowly. Warm and content. The mattress beneath you was soft and the quiet noises of the person slumbering next to you were comforting.

You opened your eyes and took in the sight of Bucky Barnes, relaxed in sleep. He looked so much younger, so much softer like this, and you carefully reached up to move a lock of his hair off his forehead. This was going to hurt when it ended, but you were going to enjoy every moment you could, even if you did feel a bit of a creep watching him sleep.

You’d never wanted an antagonistic relationship with this man, just the friendship of someone you thought would understand you and you’d never worked out why he hadn’t liked you. But he couldn’t hate you that much, could he? He’d risked his life to come and rescue you and opened his home. He’d comforted you in the night and stayed when you’d asked. And the more you thought about it, the more you had to admit that over time, with all the needling you’d done, all the times you’d bested him, you’d no longer wanted to be his friend. You’d wanted to be his equal. His partner.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Bucky mumbled, turned over to face you and slowly blinked his eyes open. His arm lay across your waist and your leg was still tangled with his, but you didn’t move away, just smiled up at him.

“I’m good, thanks. And thank you for staying with me last night.” Your hand rested against his chest, the cotton of his black tee-shirt soft under your palm.

“‘S alright, doll. You wanna talk about it? Can help sometimes.”

Your brow furrowed as you recalled what it was that had bothered you in the night.

“I dreamt you didn’t come,” you admitted. “That Brock started to do some of the things he threatened to do.” The hand on your waist tightened as Bucky processed what you said, so you hurriedly placated him. “But you did come, and the only thing he did, apart from take my dignity, was kiss me. Luckily it was brief. Yuck!” You tried to inject some humour into your voice to try and lighten the mood. It didn’t work.

“Rumlow kissed you? You didn’t tell me that?” Bucky’s voice was low and shaky, as though he was trying to control his temper.

“Well, it didn’t seem relevant at the time. It was gross, but definitely not the worst thing that happened while I was there. I’m more annoyed because it was the first kiss that I’ve had in years. Grim.” You realised Bucky was staring at you, a strange look on his face. “What is it? Have I got an eye booger?” You reached up to wipe at your face, but Bucky moved his arm and clasped your hand. His thumb brushed over your palm and a jolt of sensation ran through you.

“I could take that memory away,” Bucky whispered and you stared back at him.

“What?” Was he saying what you thought he was?

Bucky shifted, getting closer, his warm breath fanning your cheeks. “I could kiss you. Make you forget about what he did. If you want?”

You looked at each other, poised on a knife edge, because there was no mistaking what would happen here. It wouldn’t just be a kiss. Did you dare? You edged yourself closer, your mouth mere millimetres from his, and whispered.

“I want…”

The words were barely out of your mouth before Bucky crashed his lips onto yours.

Chapter Six

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @wheezy-stucky, @km-ffluv, @mrs-illyrian-baby

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #buckybarnesbingo2023

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leseigneurdufeu · 29 days ago

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First chapter of my story for the 2024 @inklings-challenge

I'll post it all on AO3 when I'm done. Posting it now because I need to put it in the open to force myself to write the rest. estimated 5 or 6 chapters. Content Warnings: there's french people😱

Heart of Gold, Blade of Steel

Chapter 1: The Child

August 1904 – The country house of the Baron de Brûlemont's family

“Damn that gas company!” Georges de Brûlemont exclaimed as the flames burning around the dining-room all dimmed at the same time, before taking back their usual brightness. “I hope it doesn't go dark in the middle of the announcement.”

“We still have time. I'll ask the butler to monitor the lights.” Berthe, Georges' wife, said while putting a reassuring gloved hand on his forearm. “The Marcys are here, go and greet them, why don't you?”

Georges nodded and joined Mr Marcy, highest ranking police officer in Paris, and his wife, the sister of a deputy.

“Thank you for joining us tonight.” Georges said. “I hope you are better?”

Marcy scoffed.

“All just memories. But it might be time for me to consider retirement, which is why I brought Fombe... wait, where has Fombelle gone?”

He looked around until he saw a blond man looking at one of the lamps intently.

“If you'll excuse me” he said, leaving his wife in Georges' care before going and dragging the man back with him. “Monsieur de Brûlemont, may I introduce to you Augustin Fombelle. He is my second at the Préfecture and, if he keeps up with his efforts, he will probably be Préfet after I leave.”

“How do you do.”

Fombelle nodded at Brûlemont.

“Then let me introduce my children as well” Georges said.

He took Fombelle off the Marcys' arms and brought him to the buffet, where a lanky boy in dark blue was eyeing the fish terrine, unsure if he could start picking at it before the announcement that officially kicked off the evening.

“My son, Alfred. Alfred, this is Augustin Fombelle, who works under Marcy.”

The two men, the nearly-fourty and the barely twenty, shook hands in silence. Seeing her shy brother forced to make small talk to a stranger, Georges' daughter, Eglantine, swooped in.

“Monsieur.”

Georges heard her, turned to her, and made the introductions there too.

“So you're the belle of the ball, if I understand?” Fombelle asked.

“Well, it is my engagement that will be announced tonight.” Eglantine nodded. “Did Monsieur Marcy not tell you anything before inviting you along?”

“He told me the evening was in your honour, but he neglected to precise the occasion.” Fombelle said.

They exchanged a few pleasantries, then were joined by Eugène Bredin-Chantaille, only son of the famed banker, and Eglantine's fiancé. The young lady made the introductions, and the conversation went on.

Meanwhile, Alfred had sneaked out. He had been feeling rather feverish all day, and couldn't stand the heat of the ballroom now that every guest was there. Well, almost. As long as General Delbecaut and his wife hadn't arrived, the Bredin-Chantailles wouldn't announce the engagement. He still had time. Alfred loved his sister dearly, and didn't want to miss the announcement. Still, his love and devotion for her didn't extend to staying in the hot room any longer.

It was a hassle to make everyone come from Paris, but everyone so far had admitted that the country house of the Brûlemont family was worth the journey. The house was old, if not ancient; woods spread around its gardens, and the fountain in the back was the only ornament that made the house look more like a stately home and less like a fortress. Still, it was nice to go out in the night like that, flee from the heat for a moment.

Alfred was resting on the stone stairs facing the fountain and the back when he heard a soft sob. He first tried to ignore it. If one of the guests was crying, it would do more harm to witness their sorrow than it would to help them.

But the sobs were soft and high, and sounded like the sobs of a child. Alfred thought back to the list of guest, brow furrowing. There were no children invited, and so the only one at the house would be Patrice, his younger brother. What was Patrice doing out in the gardens, if it was he who Alfred heard? He was supposed to have dined early and gone to bed.

Alfred unfolded his long legs and started walking in the direction of the sobs. Padding around the house with no care for the state of his shoes, he walked through the forged iron door on the side of the garden, which for some reason sent a chill down his spine, and to the fountain outside of it, on which a silhouette dressed all in white was resting. Small as a child, and chestnut-haired as Patrice but not Patrice. Patrice was bigger, at almost fourteen.

As soon as Alfred thought that, the silhouette seemed to get bigger. Perhaps it was Patrice after all, and he had been tricked by a reflection of the light.

“Brother” a voice that was not quite Patrice's said, as the sobs interrupted. “I'm lost. Can you give me your hand?”

Alfred hadn't recognised the brother i'm lost, but the voice had changed to become Patrice's on the final question. It was... it was offputting. Of course, it was possible that Patrice's voice was just changed a bit by the crying. But still.

Alfred stopped at a distance from the child.

“Look at me.” he ordered softly.

The child turned towards Alfred.

“May I be perfectly candid?” Fombelle asked Eglantine.

“Of course.”

“By some aspects, you remind me of my sister. The same wit, the same disposition, dressed in blue, and... may I risk myself on the guess... same taste in champagne. Canard-Duchêne, isn't it?”

Eglantine smirked.

“Monsieur, you seem like a true connoisseur of champagne.”

“I know only two tastes in champagne: my sister's favorite, and the rest.” he joked.

He looked at his pocketwatch, and added:

“But I must not keep you from the rest of your guests. I was not even invited and I am already hogging the mistress of the house.”

“My mother is the mistress of the house, I am not.” Eglantine chuckled.

“You will be mistress of your own house soon enough.”

And I'm terrified, Eglantine thought, but did not say.

Eugène was perfectly nice. The marriage had been arranged by the parents, but only after both of the interested parties had known each other for years and had developed a mutual esteem, respect and affection. Eglantine didn't fear a marriage with him. She feared however that she would have little help to become the highest authority in the matters of the house when she wouldn't know any servant where she was going, had never balanced a budget without her mother's supervision...

Before she could speak any more word, even of farewell, to anyone, her father and Eugene's both walked to the center of the dancefloor, desert at the moment, and called for everyone's attention.

Alfred came running in through one of the great bay windows, ignored by everyone, and Eglantine smiled. At least, he'd realised it was time to come back. She was glad she would have her brother by her side, although he looked a bit too frantic to actually come and stand by her side, when the announcement would be made.

Georges invited everyone to go back to what they were doing, the announcement finished, when he noticed Alfred, shaking – which, with his lanky build, was rather a sight to behold – and trying to reach his sister. Georges intercepted his son, and told him, rather abruptly – it was in his manners:

“Now, calm down, the General is there and you know you have to make a good impression if you want him to take you in his staff for your military time.”

The Brûlemonts were not cowards, and every single one of the men in the family – with the exception of the ones who had become clergymen – had fought valiantly in battle. But as far as military time was concerned, Georges estimated that Alfred could get a soft, safe job and network a bit while he was there. If war there was, Alfred would prove equal to the task – Georges had taught him to shoot, fence and ride himself – but when there were no real stakes on french soil, asking a friend, general or colonel, to take his son under his wing was fair game in his eyes.

Alfred tried to say something about a child out there, but Georges didn't listen. Patrice was in his room and a maid was making sure he wouldn't come out. No guest had brought children. If there was a child, it would be a villager's, and in that case the child knew how to go back home.

“General Delbecaut” Georges said.

“Baron” the General nodded. “I'm sorry we arrived so late. At least we were there in time for the announcement!”

“And in time for the champagne.” Georges laughed, pointing at the glass in the General and his wife's hands. “I see you didn't lose any time on that front.”

“You always have a good nose for wine.” the General complimented him.

“I have no merit in this case: it's Eglantine who picked it.” Georges said. “But where are my manners! This is my son Alfred, whom you have probably already met in passing.”

“In passing, then.” the General said.

Alfred was bad enough with faces not to feel the need to remind the General that they had actually met and spoken at length a few times already. He, himself, only recognised the General because he had a peculiar hair colour and haircut combination that stood out among his parents' friends.

“Then, let's see a bit of you.” the General said. “Tell me, what do you think of the Dreyfus situation?”

Alfred bit his cheek, knowing full well that admitting he supported Dreyfus through and through was not the best answer to give to an officer, and decided to answer:

“The same as you, I'm sure.”

The General chuckled, and said:

“That might actually have been the only correct answer. I don't want people in my staff who will divide it. Diplomats, that's what I need. Very well, Alfred, we'll see you at the beginning of your military time, then. I'll fill the paperwork to have you assigned in my staff.”

And, pretending he had seen some acquaintance, he left the two Brûlemont men together.

“You could have told me he'd test me.” Alfred said.

“I didn't know he would – well, not that way.” Georges answered. “You did well.”

Alfred stayed silent. Now was not the time anymore to speak of the sobbing child, and... well, to be fair, there would probably never be a time for that. Not if he wanted people to believe in his sanity.

#inklingschallenge #team lewis #genre: portal fantasy #theme: instruct #theme: patience #story: unfinished

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oneinterests · 5 months ago

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Hi! i really wanted to make a post describing all of my favorite books (especially since i just reorganized my bookshelf to get one whole shelf for all of my all time favorites) They’re all technically in order from “least” favorite to absolute favorites :D

8: The Golden Compass- This was one of my favorite books/movies as a kid. I wanted my own alethiometer so bad and from what i remember i actually tried making my own with paper. Rereading it again now that i’m older made me feel very nostalgic, and it’ll always hold a special place in my heart :) also the scene where Lyra eats a seal kidney raw is burned into my mind 10/10 i love the weird gory moments in this book.

7: The Subtle Knife- i never knew that The Golden compass had a sequel until a classmate asked me my favorite book- and when i said The Golden Compass he asked me if i liked the other two books. I was so shocked and for some reason never thought they would have a second book out. I really enjoyed this one, and the deaths physically made me put down the book. I 100% need to reread this one again.

6: Bluebird- From what i can remember, this was recommended to me as a Gardians of the Galaxy type adventure with a lesbian main character fighting against oppressive governments. I really enjoyed the story and the characters developments throughout it, and i should really reread it again :)

5: The Salt Grows Heavy- I finished this one in about two hours? it’s a quick and gory read that’s basically about characters from a very fucked up horror fairytale. A mermaid traveling after destroying her now deceased husbands kingdom, and a frankensteins monster like creature being haunted by their past. i love the descriptions of the two main characters and the horror is so so good. if you don’t like flowery writing (i think that’s what it’s called lol) you probably won’t like this one. i love complicated writing, especially if it’s in a novella.

4: This is How You Lose the Time War- Speaking of flowery writing, this one is basically poetry with how in depth the authors go into their writing. Two agents named Red and Blue fight on opposing sides of The Time War. This book really just throws you right into the deep end and it’s really a sink or swim type of read. I love books that make you think or ones you have to reread multiple times to appreciate everything fully :)

3: The Spirit Bates its Teeth- How do i even explain how much i love this one. It’s so horrifying but so hopeful at the same time? Meeting Daphne for the first time made me cry, she’s one of my favorite characters in the book. So many trigger warnings for this one, i thought i was ready but i had to take a break part way through reading it. So worth it though.

2: The Entire Murderbot Series (Seven books so far, and i literally cant rank them)- Quite literally one of two of my most favorite series of all time. It’s very Sci-Fi, with a self proclaimed Murderbot grudgingly saving its humans and figuring out what it wants to do after breaking free of its governor module. All of the characters are LGBTQ+, and there’s multiple polyam characters :D The only downfall is how expensive the books are, and 90% of them are novellas. I believe when i bought the first book it was $15? But i personally think it makes up for the price since i have reread them all at least four times now :)

1. The locked tomb series. (1-Nona, 2-Gideon, 3-Harrow to be specific) :D

I physically can’t describe how much i love this book series. I’m planning on getting a tattoo of one of the quotes in GTN after Alecto drops. They’re absolutely insane books, with random meme references sprinkled in. (“None Houses with left grief.” fucking threw me for a loop when i first read it) They are absolutely books you have to read multiple times to understand- the first pages in GTN took me three months to get through because i didn’t understand half of what was going on. But as soon as it clicked i flew through it and finished the book in under a week. Nona is my absolute favorite, and i annotated the shit out of my paperback copy. (Which i might make a separate post about… because i have literally no one to talk about these books with lol)

(Also yes. I do have two copies of each book… i bought the first two as paperbacks first, and the third one only had the hardcover available. I wanted a full set of matching books after reading them all, especially because i wanted to make a mini shrine for them on my shelf. i can’t wait for Alecto to come out.)

and that’s all of them so far!! i still have 39 books on my TBR shelf, so i might update this list whenever i add to it! :)

#the locked tomb #tlt #the murderbot diaries #tmbd #i’m just going to tag those two for now lol #books #onesbooklist #booktalk #onerambles

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dutchvanwinkle · 2 years ago

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Mr Van der Linde Pt. 4 - Dutch x Reader

Alright you horny bastards, here’s chapter 4. It took me longer than I’d planned, and I had a very busy month, buuuuut I’m hoping it’s worth the wait! Plus, this chapter is almost twice as long as the previous so that should make up for it too.

As always, this chapter is on ao3.

Summary: John makes last-minute plans for his birthday, and you can't say no to visiting him.

Word count: 12,203

Content warnings: drunk sex, smut :)

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Happy birthday!

You set your phone down after sending the message to John, the last birthday in the academic year out of your group of friends - landing in late August. The plan was to celebrate when you all returned to university, considering that was only a few weeks away.

It’d been a couple of months since you all last saw each other, at the infamous Van der Linde party that had more than lived up to its expectations.

It was strange.

You hadn’t spoken to Dutch since then, and while he didn’t exactly have any way of contacting you, you assumed he would be capable of finding a way. If he wanted to, he would, after all.

Still, you were glad you left to go home with Javier when you did. You knew better than to make yourself readily available to a man, even if said man made your legs turn to jelly.

Your phone buzzed, and you picked it up from beside you on your bed to see a train ticket send over by John.

You gotta come down! Javi and our friends from home are going to a pub tonight. It’s an open ticket, so you can come anytime and I’ll pick you up.

John, this is for today! You suck at planning.

He replied with a few smiley face emojis, and you huffed back to lay on your bed. You could hardly say no to that, could you? He’d gone out of his way to buy you a ticket, all so he could see you on his birthday. You didn’t have plans today anyway, and it’s not like it was a long trip. Plus, you’d be out of the house; no chance for any awkward encounters with Mr Van der Linde.

That being said, you no longer harboured any embarrassment towards him. You’d retained your dignity this time around, and were more than prepared to be casual and nonchalant towards him if you did end up seeing him.

You had a few errands to run, but once you were back home you packed a small overnight bag and wore a casual outfit that was still nice enough for a night out. Jeans and a nice top had never failed you so far.

It was mid-afternoon by the time you sat down on the train, pulling out your phone to let John know you were on the way. He replied soon after.

We’re already out. Snooze ya lose

The fucker. Not like you could be mad at him on his birthday, though. Just as you were about to ask where they were so you could make your own way from the station, he sent another text.

Dad’ll pick you up.

What? No! A casual conversation in passing with the man would be manageable, but him coming out of his way to pick you up alone was a horrifying thought. Another text came through.

I gave him your number, he’ll let you know where he’s parked.

You were going to kill him. Or were you? What could you say? How dare you give your father – whom I’ve kissed, twice – my number and ask him to pick me up? No, for once, John wasn’t knowingly being a pain in the ass. Though, maybe there was still time to salvage the situation.

It’s okay, I can just get a taxi

Don’t be daft. I already asked him, he doesn’t mind. See you later

Fuck. You set your phone down on your lap and busied yourself with watching the landscape pass by through the window while you mentally braced yourself for seeing Mr Van der Linde once again.

As the second to last stop was being announced, an unknown number flashed up on your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

Well, that was the first time you’d ever been turned on by the world hello . That man’s voice was something else.

“I told John I’d get a taxi.”

“You should know by now that I am John’s taxi.”

You huffed a laugh, repositioning yourself in your seat. “Alright. I’m about five minutes away from the stop, where will you be parked?”

“There’s a drop-off rank by the exit if you know it? I’ll be there.”

“Sure, I know it. See you soon.”

“See you soon, miss.”

You hung up the phone, ignoring the playful lilt of his voice and willing your confidence in the situation to remain despite how strongly it wavered.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a large train station like in the big cities. Once you were off the platform, the exit was right by you and you could already see Dutch’s parked car. You approached, hearing the doors unlock as Dutch spotted you in his wing mirror. You braced yourself and opened the door.

He smiled warmly at you. That playful tone of his voice had bled through to his facial expression, it seemed.

You cleared your throat. “Hi.”

“You gonna get in?”

You lifted your bag into his field of view. “My bag.”

Dutch leaned over to press a button, and the boot opened. He tilted his head towards it.

You rounded the back of the car and lifted your bag into the boot. After shutting it, you slid into the passenger seat. When you turned to faff with the seat belt, Dutch’s hand reached across you and grasped the fasten. You turned your head to him and shot him a distrustful look.

The bastard just smiled, pulled the belt over, and clicked it into place.

“What are you playing at?” you asked, easily and willing yourself not to laugh, so as not to provide him with satisfaction by playing into his game. Something about his mischievous face made that a rather difficult task.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said casually, starting his car and reversing out of his spot slightly. As he did so, he put a hand on the top of your seat and looked out his back window.

“You know exactly what I mean,” you grumbled, and his smile grew as he pulled out to begin the drive.

“How has your summer been?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Just fine, thank you. How was yours?”

He rolled his eyes, drumming his fingertips on the wheel. “That’s a rubbish answer.”

“How?” you clucked at him.

“I’m genuinely interested,” he paused, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to give you a pointed look, “I’m not just trying to make small talk. What did you get up to?”

A smile quirked over your lips; too much time spent in hospitality and practising your manners, you supposed. “I worked, mostly. But I caught up on my sleep, read a few books and watched a few things on TV that I’ve been meaning to finish. So really, nothing exciting, but I enjoyed it.”

“Better,” he hummed, and if he didn’t look so hot when he smiled smugly like that you’d have been tempted to shove him.

“And you?” you sighed, not hiding your unwillingness to say the expected line in return.

“Went away with the kids for a week. Other than that, I worked. Actually,” his eyebrows pulled up as an idea came to mind, “you should come with us when we go next year.”

You snorted a laugh, then realised he was entirely serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I go?”

At his silence, you glanced over and observed the half-smile on his face. “For my benefit.”

You scoffed, not wanting to reward him with a laugh again. As you recognised the roads on the way to his house, you realised he wasn’t taking you straight to the bar. “Oh, aren’t you taking me straight there? I have everything I need, you can just take the overnight bag back with you.”

“Oh, can I now?” he asked, teasingly.

“So you don’t have an extra trip,” you clarified, not wanting to come across ungrateful.

“Well,” he said gently, “we’re almost there now.”

“Dutch,” you tutted. “I’m already late.”

“Hush.”

With a defeated huff, you relaxed back into the seat and decided not to fight him on this. He was giving you a lift, after all. And truthfully, you didn’t trust yourself alone with him. The train journey, along with the time at home over summer, had given you a good chunk of time to think about the situation you’d found yourself in.

After the party, you’d been disappointed that Mr Van der Linde had acted as though nothing happened, but now you supposed it was for the best. Since, what was the alternative? The two of you start dating ? Or, you have a quick fling, that you’d have to keep from John for the rest of your friendship? No, no good could come from this.

You weren’t going there again.

When John had asked if you wanted to come and stay you were hesitant but decided that no , you do have self-control and kissing his father was a mistake. A lapse of judgement. You couldn’t do it to him. John was more important.

The car stopped and you automatically undid your seatbelt, exited the car, and removed your bag. “I’ll get a taxi to the pub,” you informed Dutch as he locked the car once you shut the boot.

“No you won’t,” he responded instantly, and you followed him up the drive and to the front door.

“What’s the point of your bringing me here to drop my bag if you’re going to insist on dropping me off?” you asked, wondering when you began feeling so at ease with him to treat him as though he was one of your friends, instead of a friend’s parent. Perhaps it was when you shared a drunken kiss. Those were known to bring two people closer together.

Dutch smiled to himself, opening the door and gesturing for you to come in. You rolled your eyes and ignored his chuckle as you entered, before making your way upstairs to dump your bag in the same spare room you’d used the first time you visited.

“Okay,” you said on your way down the stairs but stopped in your tracks when you found the hallway empty. You walked down and to the kitchen, finding Dutch pouring a glass of wine upon your entry. “I’m ready to go, but I can get a taxi, especially if you want a drink -”

“It’s for you,” he held it out, “so you can catch up.”

“I’m already late,” you laughed but walked towards the breakfast bar and took the drink anyway. You leaned on it while you had a sip. “I will drink this quickly .”

“Fine,” he shrugged, that stupid smile on his face once more. He looked you up and down. “You look nice.”

“Thank -”

“A little too nice.”

Here we go again . You tutted at him. “Really?”

He smiled; enough of a confirmation.

“Well,” you sighed stubbornly. “I don’t want to go there again. Not anymore.”

Dutch’s brow quirked, and you hated him for how much he loved these sorts of games, especially since he was so damn good at them. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

He took slow steps to round the island and stopped behind you. His signature smell that propelled you into a hazy pool of lust reached you before he did, his hand coming to rest on the counter beside you. Then his other hand, on the other side. He’d boxed you in. “Is that right?” he repeated, lowering his tone.

You took another sip of your wine and swallowed. “Yes.”

“There’s no need to be nervous, my dear.”

“I’m not,” you answered instantly, but took another swig of wine and that coupled with the quietness of your voice proved that yes , you were nervous. No part of him had even come into contact with you, yet you felt like your legs would buckle at any given moment.

“That so?”

You nodded.

He straightened up, and he was so close you could almost feel him. “How about now?”

“Do you want me to be nervous?”

“Just trying to figure you out,” he murmured.

“And what have you deduced?”

“I’m glad you asked. You see,” he slid his hands slightly closer to you, lessening the space you were trapped in. “You and I are rather similar.”

“We are?”

“Mhm.”

“How so?”

“We want similar things.”

You swallowed. “Do we?”

One of his hands moved off the counter, brushing your hair away from your ear and neck, before lightly tracing your spine and landing comfortably on your lower back. “Yes,” he whispered, lips just an inch from your ear.

“I’m going to be late,” you announced quietly.

“You’re already late. Besides, John can wait – I've been waiting much longer.” With that, he pressed his lips to your neck. You tilted your head, effectively melting into him and his torso met your back at just the right time. His hand journeyed from your lower back to your stomach, thankfully holding you up against him.

You released a slow breath, feeling comfortable enough to lose yourself in the man as he took his lips from your skin. You turned in his embrace, facing him, and placed your palms on his waist. His dark eyes were entirely taken over by lust. He’d seduced you, so easily despite your inner monologue of protest. “You can’t just -”

Dutch cut you off by pulling you into a heated kiss. He took his time, slowly moving his lips on yours but with an undeniable sense of urgency. “You’re fucking irresistible -” he said in between his affections, both of his hands now grasping your hips.

“- This is a terrible birthday present for your son -”

“- What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him -”

“- Shit,” you put your hands on his chest to keep him at bay and to allow a moment of reprise. “Where’s Tilly?”

“Obviously not here,” he said, as though it was the most ridiculous thing for you to be concerned about.

You tsked through your teeth. “Obviously.”

Dutch leaned in to resume the activity, but your hands remained pressed into his (rather delightful) chest. “What if someone comes in?”

“I am fully aware of who resides in my house. And it is currently nobody but us.”

You huffed, his lack of understanding for your worries needling under your skin. “Well, what if you’ve gone senile? It’s possible that you aren’t entirely aware.”

He stilled, looking at you with incredulity. “You aren’t funny.”

You smiled in response, disagreeing with his statement.

“That what you’re into? Senior citizens , if that’s what I am?”

You held in your laugh and noticed the twitch of his amused lip. “Depends, are you always into girls half your age?”

Dutch glanced away with a quiet, defeated sigh. “Touché.”

Your laugh escaped, and you were reminded just how easy it was to be with him. The last thread of common sense that remained in your mind reminded you of all the reasons why you shouldn’t.

"I said I wasn't gonna do this again," you said, regretfully.

"So did I."

That alone was enough to scare you, because god how were you expected to experience this and just walk away from it? Your insides were on fire, your body thoroughly burning up with passion after such a minute exchange. When faced with the prospect of this actually not happening, it was a stark realisation of just how much you wanted... needed it. "Suppose we’ve already done it now."

“I like your way of thinking, girl,” his low voice dripped with pride, and it didn’t help.

He kissed you once more, and you swore you could happily just do this all day. His lips against yours felt like something you’d been looking for your entire life, and then there was him , broad and charming and mature and smart and he wanted you -

It’s John’s birthday.

“Right,” you proclaimed, and you’d have physically slapped yourself out of it if it wouldn’t make you look completely insane. You pushed his chest with more force, allowing enough space between you so you could slip out of his embrace. He reached for you again, and you put your hands up in surrender, stilling him. “No. I need to go. I’m already going to have to tell John my train was delayed,” you pressed your lips together, “and reapply my lipstick.”

Dutch chuckled fondly, dropping his hand down. “Fine. I’ll just wait for you to get back.”

You tilted your head at him exasperatedly. “ Dutch .”

He was gentle when he reached for your hand again, and held it, bringing your knuckles to his lips and folding your fingers closed around his. “Alright. I’ll drive you now.”

John was... very drunk.

It was his birthday, so you didn’t blame him one bit, but you’d honestly be surprised if he even remembered you’d been there come morning.

“Another shot for the birthday boy!” Javier announced, multiple shot glasses of... something somehow balanced between his fingers. He placed them down before jovially patting John on the back.

John didn’t take a single moment to ponder what was in his glass before it was down his throat, and you could only laugh.

“Javi,” you lamented fondly, “it’s all well and good turning all his insides to ethanol when you’re not the one that has to get him home alive.”

Javier laughed, picking up a shot and shunting it towards you, clinking his own against it once it was in your hand and knocking it back. You followed suit. “I’ll see if I get him to do a tactical -”

“Chunder?” Javier interrupted, “he’s already done it.”

“God damnit,” you sighed with a laugh, keeping an eye on the security guard who somehow hadn’t noticed the sloppy state of one of its patrons.

“He’ll be fine ,” Javier slurred, “always is, somehow. Things just work out for our Johnny.”

“Don’t they just,” you snorted, watching with amusement as he swayed to the music in his seat. Only a matter of time before -

“I love this song!” John grabbed your hand and pulled you up, nodding his head towards the more open area of the bar where a few people were dancing.

“Ah,” Javier hummed as he followed behind the two of you, “not long now before he passes out.”

You gave him a look of agreement; John was nothing if not a creature of habit, following the same cycle every time he had one too many drinks. Mentally, you made a bet that in twenty minutes the two of you would be outside, trying to flag down a taxi.

Twenty-five minutes later, and there you were.

“New record for him, ain’t it?” Javier commented as he tried to find an Uber that’d accept his ride while steadying himself on the lamppost and honing all his concentration on his phone screen.

“Yeah...” you shrugged your shoulder up in an attempt to straighten the John that was slumped on you for support, “remind me why I’m the one holding him up and not you?”

“Ah, I got one!” Javier ignored you, squinting at the screen to read the number plate.

With a sigh, you once again tried to readjust John to prevent him from falling face-first onto the concrete, despite how amusing that would be. Thankfully, the taxi didn’t take long to arrive, though since Javier’s stop was first, you were left alone to try and heave John out of the seat and into the house.

“Come on John,” you grumbled, supporting him up the few steps to the front door while trying to block out your own drunkenness, “work with me here.”

As you were trying to get his key from his pocket, since he had no desire (or ability) to listen to your instructions and get them out himself, the door opened, and Mr Van der Linde stood there with a blasé expression, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt.

Wordlessly, you removed John’s arm from your shoulder and handed him to his father, who chuckled at your eagerness to part with the responsibility of keeping his son upright.

“Good night?” he asked John, who answered by putting his arms around Dutch’s neck, and you laughed to yourself at how much like a kid he seemed at that moment.

Dutch rolled his eyes as you shut the front door, giving the stairs a weary look. “I’m pretty sure I can’t carry him anymore.”

“I don’t know,” you hummed as slow steps were made towards them, “he’s like a string bean.”

“And so is my spine.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckled. “Go on, I’ve got the back.”

And thus began the descent, and while he managed to pull his own feet onto each step, with each one John became weightier – or Dutch’s strength lessened, you weren’t sure.

The three of you made it up without any broken bones, and Dutch opened the door to the next flight of stairs that lead to John’s room. “I’ll get him into bed,” he positioned John at the doorframe before leaning towards you, a twinkle in his eye, and murmuring, “you stay right there.”

You bit your tongue and gave him a daring look, folding your arms across your chest. It’s not like there was anything you wanted more, the alcohol in your system making him look that extra bit more attractive, but you didn’t want him to know that.

Unfortunately, Dutch had already deduced that to be the case and gave you a half-smile after glancing down your form, then proceeded to get John up the stairs.

You took out your phone, quickly checking your appearance and being thankful that you didn’t look too dishevelled.

Dutch returned momentarily, pointedly closing the door and breathing a sigh of relief. “You don’t seem very drunk," he commented.

"No. John was already wasted when I got there so I presumed I'd have to look after him."

"My son. The liability," he proclaimed with mocking disappointment, and you laughed softly.

The following quiet pause hung in the air between the two of you, and you cleared your throat.

“Care to have a drink with me, now? The night is still young,” Dutch said charmingly, but you blanched at thought of doing anything while your best friend was under the same roof. You’re tired and ready for bed? That’ll work.

“It’s...” you checked the time on your phone, and your excuse thinned out into the air. “Jesus. It's only eleven.”

“Exactly.” Dutch began the journey downstairs to the kitchen, not leaving you with room to argue, and so you followed him there. You didn’t want to argue. You wanted to sit and have a drink; to spend time with him. But as usual, and rightfully so, your conscience willed you to protest. Perhaps reasoning that he hadn’t provided room to argue was a cop-out, but you stuck with the excuse all the same. Dutch took out two snifters from the kitchen cupboard along with an already-open bottle of brandy.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Van der Linde?” you asked, eyeing the generous measure he poured for each of you.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” he asked innocently, swiping the drinks up and walking into the adjoining living room.

“So you can make an advance on me?” you gently accused him, getting yourself comfortable on the sofa as he did the same.

“I don’t need to get you drunk to do that,” he tilted his head at you, handing you the glass.

“No?” you took a sip and ignored how many drinks you’d mixed that night, hoping your body would do the same. The brandy tasted more expensive than anything you’d ever drunk before.

The tension built as he took a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on you. He didn’t need to clarify his answer further. “How cute,” he smirked, and you rolled your eyes.

“What do you gain from teasing me like this?” your soft voice betrayed your act; there was no fooling Dutch that despite your question you rather enjoyed his teasing.

He chuckled easily, watching his brandy swirl around the glass before taking it to his lips. His gaze flicked up to you and remained there for a short moment. “Let’s just say you’re rather expressive.”

“Expressive?”

Dutch hummed his agreement.

“How so?” you wracked your mind, suddenly feeling as though you were exposed bare in front of him. In your opinion, you’d done a semi-decent job of blocking the outward display of your desires. Though maybe you had, the strength of said desires made it impossible to hide them fully.

He tilted his head, examining you. “Your lip tightens ever so slightly,” he said softly, continuing his appraisal of your face, “those eyes of yours too, I can practically see your irises take over the rest.”

You scoffed. “All that tells me is that you spend far too long looking at my face.”

Your opponent's own face softened, Dutch’s hard features somehow gentle in the low light of the living room, illuminated only by a standing lamp in the corner. A small smile seeped onto his face. “It’s cruel to blame a man with refined tastes for admiring something so well crafted.”

“You and your tastes ,” you muttered into your glass, taking a swig.

“I must say, you do continue to impress me.”

“Yeah?” you raised your brows, patiently awaiting whatever silken spool he was winding you with.

He nodded, expression content but with an underlying playfulness; as though the two of you were in on some unspoken inside joke. “Your willpower far surpasses mine.”

You snorted a laugh, though it came out quiet and not fully committed. “You view yourself rather highly.”

“We must all have our own frame of reference.”

“I suppose,” you took another sip, the surface of your skin prickling thanks to the strong spirit. “How come you refer to it as willpower?”

“What would you call it?”

The way Dutch spoke to you, the way he asked his questions and observed your body language along with the answer you gave, provided an odd sense of security. It was as though he was sifting through your brain, almost getting lost in the abyss that was your thoughts. Every answer you gave provoked a new avenue of exploration, and it gave you a small measure of power to have someone listen so intently to what you had to say. In your experience with men, conversations had often been one-sided as they waited for your response only so they could have their turn to speak. Had his communication skills been refined with age, or was it simply him , harbouring a desire to learn more about you? “I’m not sure,” you settled on your answer, “but how do you know it isn’t just unreciprocated feelings?”

He smiled proudly at that, a laugh coming from deep in his chest. His eyes practically shone with awe, as they usually did when you tested his boundaries. You supposed this was what this whole thing was about – how many boundaries would the two of you test in the pursuit of... what was it? Pleasure?

“I know that’s not the case,” he said lowly.

“Like I said. You view yourself highly.”

There was a pause, Dutch sighing contently as the two of you took another sip. “I would like to return our topic of conversation to the subject of my tastes.”

“Well... what about my tastes?”

Dutch’s eyes glinted, as though that was a question he’d been waiting to answer. “We can talk about those, too, if you like. Though I already know what you want.”

“Is that so?” you swallowed.

His answer was a shuffle closer to you, taking your glass along with his and setting them down on the coffee table. He turned his eye line to your hair, of which he gently brushed a strand away from your face. “Yes,” he answered, keeping his attention on the movement of his hand. “You recall our earlier conversation.”

You nodded, despite it not being a question. Dutch lowered his hand; its journey slow as it made its way to your thigh. His palm rested there lightly, but it was self-assured. The sensation of his big, firm hands on you sparked something deep in your gut. His head tilted downwards, he looked at you through his lashes, and there was no denying the lust plain on his face.

But he wanted to play games, so you planned on giving him his way. Dutch may believe he’s the only one with the upper hand of knowledge, but you knew just what he wanted.

There was a part of Dutch that wanted you to give in, for need and desire to overtake your composure and to have you throw yourself at him. But the way you sat, unmoving yet relaxed, furthered his interest in you. He did love a challenge. And at the feeling of your thigh under his palm, he set himself the task of reducing you to your purest desires.

“I was reading a book recently,” he mused, gently running his thumb back and forth on your thigh.

“Were you now.”

“About the dangers of men and their greed,” he continued, “until they destroy all that lies in the path of their pursuit until there is nothing left. You know what happens then?”

His arm snaked around your shoulders, and you ignored it, but you couldn’t help softening slightly into his supportive limb.

“I asked you a question.”

“I don’t know.”

“Once they’ve destroyed all this earth has to offer, they in turn destroy themselves.”

“Forgive me, Mr Van der Linde -”

“Dutch, darlin’,” he interrupted absentmindedly.

“ Dutch ,” you allowed his name to roll off your tongue and didn’t miss the low growl of approval in the man’s chest as he leant further towards you. “I don’t see how this is relevant.”

“I’m not finished,” he said plainly.

“Then please,” you stretched your back minimally, enough for his eyes to dart to your chest, “continue.”

Dutch's attention turned to his hand, still on your thigh that he kneaded firmly then returned to its resting position, gripping you noticeably harder than it had previously. “I have always prided myself in valuing what I have , not allowing my desires to manifest in things I do not need.”

You waited patiently when he checked your reaction, his torso entirely pressed into yours.

“Yet...” his voice dropped almost to a low hum, close enough for you to practically feel the vibrations of his baritone. His face moved to the side of yours, his lips beside your ear. “Yet I find myself desiring. ”

You swallowed.

“The modern man is taught to give up his pleasures, a mere insult to our existence, considering inside us there exists the human, and the animal...”

He brushed his nose up the side of your head, breathing in the scent of your hair.

“To ignore either one goes against our very nature.”

“It does,” you said, intending your words to come out as a question but instead they reached Dutch as a confirmation.

“Instead of leaning into those pleasures,” Dutch’s palm slowly brushed up your thigh and he felt the muscle underneath twitch involuntarily, “they allow society to tell them what they want. Struck by a fear of delving into the recesses of their own minds to find out what they truly desire. Instead, they want to acquire for the sake of acquisition, things that serve no purpose. So now you see my problem - I find myself wanting to acquire what I currently hold in my hands.”

He squeezed your flesh, angling himself towards you, that carnal desire he spoke of hard against your leg. His arm that’d been over your shoulders returned to its owner and he brushed the back of his finger over your cheek. You tilted your head towards him, eyelids relaxed, and a warmth spread in Dutch’s chest at your slow undoing. Though, he still had some work to do. Experimentally, you leaned in, and Dutch took it as his cue to speak once more and took his hand away.

“But then,” - your next breath out was slightly audible - he already had you where he wanted you, didn’t he - “I was struck by an epiphany. I am not like them. You know why?”

You shook your head, releasing a shaky breath as Dutch’s fingertips returned, and slid up your neck until reaching your chin, holding it between his fore and index finger while he gazed intently at your bottom lip.

“ Those men, they don’t place value in the having of the thing. They want it until they have it, then they want something else,” he sighed contently, moving forward as though to kiss you but pausing, pulling your chin down until your lips parted and then continuing, instead taking your bottom lip gently between his teeth. He dragged them against your skin until your lip released, and the slight part in your mouth remained, though now your bottom lip was redder than before – your blood rushing to sit underneath the surface. A beautiful sight.

You remembered then, your earlier intention of remaining sturdy, but didn’t have enough in you to cease the softening of your body bit by bit, falling gladly in the mould Dutch presented for you. There, the world seemed simple, comfortable, a place where you didn’t have to constantly think , and could just be...

“Man,” Dutch continued, now almost consuming you in every way one can be consumed, “when left to his desires will induce hell. I believe it is our business to find heaven, and I think I know the first place to look.”

“Where?” your question came out in a thin sigh, barely there at all.

He smiled, glad that you’d asked as much as he was glad that you were listening so well. He ran his lips along your jaw, his hot breath skirting down your neck and you could hardly notice his hand on your leg creeping up the remaining distance. “ Right between your thighs. ” He cupped your clothed pussy and squeezed .

Your gasp was staggered, a noise that wanted to be a yell, but you repressed it as much as you could. Finally, your hands reached for Dutch and gripped to the first thing they could find: the sides of his firm waist. You pulled him to you and demanded he kiss you back, which was no big ask for him.

While he could feel your wanting hands tugging, there wasn’t much direction from them except closer , so Dutch allowed his weight to lean in and convinced you to lay on the sofa until his frame covered yours. His palm remained in place, and you ground your hips up into it while kissing him fervently. It was the sort of kiss where both parties refused to back down, each of their desires – the irony didn’t escape you – wishing to conquer. But Dutch had the upper hand, being above you and controlling your pleasure just by squeezing . Your head dropped back, a sigh of ecstasy releasing, and all Dutch could do was growl.

“That’s right,” he praised soothingly, pressing his palm harder into your mound, “give in to me.”

You happily obeyed that command, wrapping your arms around his neck and shifting your thighs, the wetness in your pants growing to a level of discomfort. That, coupled with the sweat pooling on your skin, made you feel positively dirty . It was a happy state of being, to be so okay with that and truthfully, wanting more.

Dutch moved his hand away and you whined pitifully, him chuckling at the extent of power he now had over you and rewarding himself with a desperate squeeze of your breast.

There was a pause, one where you just looked at each other with chests heaving and desire rippling from your bodies in waves. All you could see in his eyes was a certainty, what for you weren’t quite sure, and his intentions were clear as day as he silently communicated them with you. The relaxation of your shoulders was enough of a response for him, and his façade of seduction slipped only for a moment as he offered you a warm, slight smile.

It left as quickly as it had appeared, Dutch opting for doing the one thing he’d thought of more than anything since he’d met you. He pushed the fabric of your top up your stomach, and you shifted onto your elbows to allow him to remove it. You hardly noticed his fingers trace around the wire of your bra until they reached the back, unclasping it in one swift motion. Holding your arms out, he took it as his cue to remove the garment and his gaze transfixed on your bare skin.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his index and middle finger slowly swiping up to run a nipple between his digits.

It was... different. He was admiring you, taking his time despite his arousal bursting at the seams (literally - you could see it). It felt like it had always been missing in your previous encounters, and while you recognised the sweetness in his zealous actions, this time you wanted to be rushed. Just a little, to allow yourself to remain in the heady state you’d found yourself in.

You interrupted his infatuation by leaning up, shucking his t-shirt up and he smirked while raising his arms. “My turn.”

“Of course.”

Dutch moved to sit back on his haunches, to allow you both a moment to drink each other in. He forgot that you’d already seen his chest, as delightfully toned and hairy as it was, in much better lighting some months previously. Sure, you could look at him all day if given the task but one glance at his skin was enough for you to want to feel it against yours while the opportunity presented itself. You sat up with a huff, practically pouncing on the unsuspecting man and taking a seat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Oh, darlin’,” he said with an air of surprise, and before he could start talking again you landed your lips on his thick neck, kisses and licks that turned into grazing bites evaporating all his thoughts from his head.

Despite his joggers and your jeans separating the two of you, Dutch was so furiously hard that it was more than enough friction for you to grind against. So you did, you rocked your hips over his length and build up that stimulation, tilting your head up with a breathy sigh and squeezing your legs around his.

Your eyes fell shut, the buzz of alcohol coupled with the buzz of arousal too tempting not to chase. Dutch’s eyes, however, were transfixed as he watched you. His big palms held your thighs while he enjoyed your show, the crease between your brows, the part of your lips, and the flush underneath your skin was a delight to watch. However, his favourite thing about your show was that it wasn’t for him; it was for you.

His dominance and desire to pin you down and fill you up was still there, somewhere, but drifted further away with every greedy grind of your hips. “You are perfect like this,” he said lowly, almost to himself, but you stalled your motions and blinked your eyes down to look at him questioningly. “Being selfish looks good on you,” he clarified.

Your laugh was muted when you rolled your eyes, and you opted for kissing him again and favouring slow movements of your hips.

Dutch allowed it, for a moment, but his practised patience was beginning to wear thin. “I think that’s enough teasing for me,” he muttered against your mouth.

While you were a sight to behold, he’d allowed you to turn him into a speechless deer stuck in a beam of headlights, allowed himself to give in and become pliant. That wasn’t how it was in any of his fantasies. There, he ploughed into you while you whined, and prepared your grounds for the sowing of his seeds. With an effective grunt, he gripped a hand on each of your upper arms and twisted you to lay on your back, resuming his dominating position over you.

You smirked up at him, a little surprised but with no complaints. This was really going to happen.

Dutch’s joggers now sat low on his hips, and your eyes were drawn to the dark hairs that led down into them. “Ah ah,” he teased, “it’s my turn now. Remember?”

You flicked your eyes up to him and shrugged, settling into the sofa and gesturing to your jeans to give him the go-ahead. His face lit up with poorly contained excitement, either that or you were beginning to read his emotions better, and he swiftly got to work undoing your jeans. He slowed enough to remind himself that this was rather a big deal and took his time as he dragged the material down your legs. He bit down on his tongue at the sight of you exposed, save for your underwear which was moist with your desire. Dutch was drawn to it, pressing the pad of his thumb over the wet patch and you were responsive as ever, moving your hips to chase the pleasure.

He would’ve been happy to watch you squirm some more, but you were nothing if not fair and decided to carry on implementing this rule system the two of you had created. You sat up, placing your fingertips on his waistband and glancing up to get permission. He nodded once and leaned down to kiss you while you slipped the joggers over his delightful thighs.

When the kiss broke, you widened your eyes in surprise when you looked down to see his cock, hard and frustrated.

“Where’s your underwear?” you asked him, and he tilted his head at you with incredulity.

“Why would I wear underwear to bed?”

Oh. You’d forgotten this was just his sleeping attire. “Good point,” you agreed. “That means I’m out of turns.”

“That’s alright,” Dutch leaned over you, hooking his thumb into your underwear, “I do believe it’s my turn, anyway.”

With that, your underwear was off, and you each took a moment to admire the other, your mind turning to filth at the thought of all he could do with... that...

The most appropriate way you could put it was that he was rather blessed. And soon you would be, too.

Dutch leaned over you, his skin on yours enough to keep your mind cloudy and content. “Positively... delectable,” he purred, lowering his lips to commence a slow kiss and you gripped his forearms; anchoring yourself to him.

“Now darlin’,” he huffed, attempting to order his scrambled thoughts, “I need to be fair and honest with you.”

You paused, frowning. “About what?”

“I told you earlier, I am not interested in desire. While I desire you now, I do not wish to desire something I cannot have.”

Your frown deepened, and you glanced down at yourself. “But, I’m allowing you to -”

“I know ,” he soothed. “I don’t just mean now.” Dutch paused for a moment, too many wonderful parts of you that he wanted to look at, so he instead opted for your face, which he was already rather fond of. “If I have you... then I must have you. If I become accustomed to the taste of your skin, I know, I just know...” he trailed off, running his hand up your flank and across your chest, lazily thumbing a nipple. “It will no longer be want. Having you, it will be a need .”

You relaxed, eyes returning to their softened state.

“Do you understand?”

You nodded.

“No - do you really understand? What me having you now entails?”

You nodded again.

“Words, darlin’.”

“I -” you faltered, understanding perfectly what was to come next but deciding instead to indulge yourself in the honeyed prose that oozed from his mouth. “Tell me.”

His brow raised, impressed that even in your lust-filled state you were able to continue the act of teasing. “Very well,” he agreed, scanning his eyes down your naked form underneath him, the head of his cock leaking onto your leg. “I will have this,” he lamented with a hand on your stomach before it drifted down to rub the sides of your folds, toying with the almost-pressure between his alternating fingers. “And I will have this. I will take from you, my sweet, and grip onto that waist of yours while I also give . I will give, I will pump you full of me until I have nothing left.”

You bit down on your tongue, rolling your hips with not an ounce of shame. “ Okay .”

Dutch smiled, pleased. He sat back on his haunches, taking a hand to the innards of your knees before kissing each one and opening your legs. He stared at what he found, cock twitching as it stood impatient against his abdomen, his tongue darting out on his lip absently. He brushed his hands up your thighs until they reached your waist, and he pulled you roughly towards him, towering over you as he chuckled darkly. A slight gasp left you, and you squirmed with how close he was to joining the two of you.

And there it was. You, needy and flustered underneath him, and it was beyond worth the wait.

Though it wasn’t necessary, Dutch resumed the stroking of your folds, this time dipping into your slit to tease your entrance. He bit back a moan, the hint of wetness, warmth, and plush flesh that he was about to experience very intimately almost making him lose his wavering control over the situation. Your walls clenched, willing him to relieve you and truthfully not believing you needed any form of preparation, but perhaps it was a precaution – or he was being a gentleman.

The fact was that Dutch just wanted to feel you, not only with his fingers but his tongue, too; though that would have to wait for another day lest he wanted to finish before he’d even started.

He slid a finger in without resistance, your body doing everything to ask for more , to keep what was already filling you. It slipped out a few inches and a second finger entered along with it on the next experimental journey in and you released a breathy moan, feeling nothing aside from pleasure. Briefly, you wished this had happened at the party a few months back so you could’ve done it while he wore his rings. Though, you weren’t in a position to complain.

Dutch’s approving hum accompanied his slow ministrations, crooking his fingers slightly so that they just brushed against the raised bump in your walls and your next breath came out lined with frustration.

“Come on, Dutch,” you’d intended to be assertive, but your voice hung in the air with a seductive tone, one that still had the desired effect as Dutch immediately removed his fingers and held his hand around his cock, leaning over you some. You smirked at his eagerness and didn’t miss the flash of annoyance over his eyes, though it was borne from a now-familiar fondness on his part.

“You are a rather,” he paused to run the head of his cock over your slit and you bit down on your bottom lip, “ demanding young woman.”

With his cock meeting your pussy for the first time, the stark realisation hit you of just what you were doing. It must’ve shown on your face, causing Dutch’s brows to tense with concern.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, reminding yourself to take a breath and relaxed some. It was an odd mix of emotions, your excitement and nervousness coming together to make you almost giddy, and you laughed a little with apprehension. “John’s right upstairs.”

Dutch’s expression grew gentle, and he ran the head of his cock down your slit once more, leaning down to touch the tip of his nose to yours. “Then you better keep quiet.”

The barely-there sensation turned to a dull pressure, and then his cock slipped past your entrance and you moaned as he filled you, arching up and gripping the fabric of the sofa as you felt what must be the best sensation of your entire life.

He just kept going , and your attention was drawn to how big he was as he pushed all the way in to nestle his hipbones comfortably into your ass. “That’s not quiet,” he warned, voice restrained as he too kept his response to a minimum.

You chuckled, and Dutch felt it vibrate on his shaft and screwed his eyes shut as the delightful feeling you provided took over him. The man in him withered away, until he was more animal than anything and he briefly questioned whether desire was truly that bad. Then, he internally reprimanded himself for thinking about Evelyn Miller, however briefly, while he was nestled inside a beautiful woman.

“God,” you breathed, making it difficult for him to think about anything else other than you, “you feel so good.”

Dutch felt the heat rise to his cheeks and planned to blame the alcohol in case he actually blushed at your compliment. “Good? Darlin’ you’re...” his mind was empty. There wasn’t a word to describe the way it felt to have your warmth envelop him, even perfect didn’t quite do it justice. “It’s like you’re made for me,” he settled on, surprised his mind could even form a full sentence.

“Dutch?” you said seriously, tilting your head inquisitively.

“Mhm?”

“I have a confession.”

“What is it?” he smirked.

“I’ve been thinking about this for some time.”

He smiled, again feeling coy thanks to your words. It was sweet, and he hadn’t expected this to be so sweet . Then your following words brought him back to reality.

“And every time,” you sat up on your elbows, brushing your lips against his and feeling brave with desire, “you fucked me. Properly.”

Thankfully, Dutch registered your insinuation, and the lust returned to his eyes and wiped out the almost starry-eyed look he’d had in them previously. His hand cupped the back of your head and he kissed you roughly, his tongue invading your mouth as he slowly inched out. He let off, allowing you to take a breath and proceeded to slam his hip into yours.

Finally , that was more like it. Your gasp was high-pitched as he repeated the motion, gradually speeding up and fucking you deeper than you thought was possible.

Dutch’s fingertips gripped the sides of your hips as he tried to pull himself further in, despite that not being possible. Your words had snapped something within him, and he leaned down to suck harshly at your neck.

“Don’t,” a quiet moan broke your sentence, “leave any marks...”

And then, the suction increased, and you gripped a hand into the back of his hair and pulled him off despite yourself. Dutch smirked down at you.

“I’m warning you.”

“You are just a vixen ,” he said with a deep thrust, “so much more to you than meets the eye, sweetheart...” his breath was hot against your ear as he returned to littering your skin with affection, his hand coming between the two of you to knead your breast. Your hand remained in his hair, fingertips running across his scalp at the base of his thick curls, though you weren’t pulling him away this time. His tongue travelled around your neck and ears, leaving cool wetness in its wake as proof of the parts of your skin he’d tasted.

So far, your teasing had been well received. You wondered where his line was. “Am I?”

Dutch hummed his agreement, hardly listening and too infatuated with the feeling of your dripping cunt, soft breasts, and delicious skin. He’d turned quieter than usual while he thrusted into you. You took one look at his face, the furrow of his brow, the tightening of his lips...

He was focusing .

It was sweet, really, that your pleasure was at the forefront of his mind. It was a breath of fresh air that you needed, but right now, wasn’t what you wanted . Screw Dutch and his books and his high horse about desires, you wanted him . You wanted to see that animal he talked so fondly of that apparently inhabited us all. This was the man, but you knew it wasn’t entirely truthful. You wanted him to let go, to take what he wanted. To give into that desire. Fuck it .

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

He paused comically, stilling his thrusts and taking his lips from you, to meet you with a glare. “What?”

“Here I was,” you relaxed back theatrically, “thinking Mr Van der Linde would be all demanding and dominant like he is during the day...” you sighed for effect, “but no. I had to practically beg you to fuck me.”

Dutch’s face didn’t crack as he pulled out of you, moving to kneel on the sofa between your legs. The humour ran cold off your face, you were the one that wanted to find the line, after all .

“I -” you began, sitting up, “I was just teasing.”

He raised a brow, and you sighed.

“Sorry, alright?” you placed a gentle hand on his forearm, “it was a joke. Too far, clearly.”

The silence hung between you, and the lack of change in Dutch’s expression was almost eery. As you moved your hand away from him, he gripped your wrist and yanked you towards him, so close that with your face in line with his chest, you had to look straight up to see his expression. Contrasting the iron grip, his other hand gently caressed your face. “Oh, you are a foolish little girl.”

He was menacing. You couldn’t read him, whether this was part of a bit or whether he was genuinely pissed off you weren’t sure. Perhaps you’d gotten so caught up and forgotten the sort of man you were dealing with, or you didn’t spend long enough at the start trying to find out. “Sorry,” you repeated. “Please.”

“Now you see,” he squeezed your jaw, “ that’s begging. But I don’t think you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you? Just a sweet little lamb following the scent of fresh grass right into the wolf’s den.”

He released you harshly, knocking you back and a strike of adrenaline ran through you at the dangerous look in his eyes. You didn’t have long to observe, as before you knew it, he’d flipped you over and hiked your ass into the air. Then, a slap reverbed around the room, followed by a sting of pain.

“Dutch!” you squealed quietly, and looked behind at him, “don’t - John!”

He put his hand to the back of your head and pressed your face into the sofa, leaning down to put his lips by your ear while his cock lay comfortably between your ass cheeks. “You asked for this, sweetheart. If it’s a dangerous game you want, it’s a dangerous game you get,” he bit your earlobe and released, “I pride myself in being a thorough man,” his cock began to slide into your cunt, “a man of my word .” He dragged your hips back to him with the hand that wasn’t holding your head. “Let this be a lesson, should you be tempted to try testing my integrity ever again,” you growled in your ear. “Now, princess, I think I’ll fuck all of that attitude out of you.”

With no time for you to protest, not that you wanted to, he began fucking you deep and fast, both pushing his hips forward and pulling you back. The angle was different, deeper as his cock dragged along your walls in a new way. Knowing John was upstairs was no longer a point of guilt for you, instead, it made it all the more exciting. This was wrong . You could get caught. You moaned at the thought, continuing in time with his erratic thrusts.

“Jesus,” he grumbled, reluctantly holding his hand over your mouth instead of on your head, “you’ll wake the dead with those noises of yours.”

With your head tilted up to accommodate for his hand, your back arched and Dutch furthered the bend by pressing his palm onto the middle of your back to provide an even needier view for him. “Stupid,” he grumbled between thrusts, “little, girl. Doesn’t know w-what's good for... her.” His words, while broken with grunts and restricted moans, went straight to your core. There you lay, presented like a common whore and unable to manoeuvre yourself into any other position while he pounded you into the sofa. Dutch had achieved his desired control, and you trusted him fully to bring you pleasure.

As if on cue, his hand moved from your back and round to your clit, rubbing harsh circles over it with his index finger. You moaned into Dutch’s palm, feeling your saliva seep onto his skin and feeling all the filthier for it. The man himself enjoyed it too, this was your truest desire. That tight and unwavering grip you had on your control must be tiresome, he mused while he continued to defile your cunt. “Just look at you,” he breathed, “little miss tries her hardest to be perfect, doesn’t she?” he asked, his tone patronising but only further your building arousal and you were sure you’d soon burst, “so squeaky clean yet here you are... filthy ,” he smacked your ass for good measure, “want someone to take control of you, hm? Someone to -” Dutch took a breath as he continued to hold off from finishing as long as he could. He flat-out refused to come until he got to feel your contracting pussy as you came around his cock. “Someone to look after you, someone who knows just what you need...”

He was truly a bastard. A bastard that had figured you out, and sounded proud for it. But what were you to do? Deny it? Keep up the façade - which, he was right, was truly tiring – or accept it? Allow this to be the one arena where you could just fucking let go. You nodded, despite the restriction of his palm.

You let go , of the pent-up arousal and control as it whooshed out of your body, from your abdomen and down your limbs, to the tips of your fingers and toes. Your legs tensed in an effort not to shake as you buried your head into the pillow of the sofa, aware of Dutch’s low moan of ecstasy followed by a sopping warmth entering you as he filled you up, entirely with him .

Your eyes had teared up, both from the exhilarating pleasure but too from the damn release . You relaxed into the sofa, feeling floaty and a little overwhelmed. But it was fine, you were fine. While he had been the one to warn you that there was no going back on this, you feared Dutch was the one that didn’t know what he’d gotten himself in form. This was what was missing from your life. This was the thing that poets wrote about, musicians sang about, and what the whole world seemed obsessed with. Love? Not yet. But that passion the two of you created? That shit was art .

“Darlin’?” Dutch questioned, pushing the hair off your sweaty brow and you blinked your eyes open with a tilt of your head backwards to look at him, his face full of concern. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, your best attempt at making sure he didn’t worry about you. He didn’t seem entirely fooled but also not entirely panicked. He gently eased out of you and lay beside you, coaxing you to turn over and lay against his chest. You did, a hand in his wiry hairs while you listened to the pounding of his heart gradually settle.

“Sorry, I - I lost myself a little there -”

“No,” you interrupted, and when you looked up at Dutch he thumbed underneath your eye to wipe the few fallen tears away. “No it was – it was just what I needed.”

That was all it took for Dutch’s face to relax, a genuine smile returning. His deep, brown eyes were a place of warmth, and no part of you felt like you had to appease him or lie to him or change yourself to behave perfectly. It was strange. It was like you, as you were, was enough . He kissed you gently. “Me too.”

While it was possible that your lust-induced brain was reading all the wrong signals, something about the way he looked at you was like a promise it would all be okay. That the two of you had a mutual understanding, that this was perfect for the both of you, not some gross fantasy shit as it had been in your head for over half a year. Well, maybe it was both.

You nestled your head into his chest, and he drew patterns on your back while the two of you lay naked on the sofa, returning to be wholly present in the room.

After a while, how long exactly you weren’t sure thanks to how serene the passing of time was, Dutch spoke.

“I’m sorry for not coming to find you at the party.”

“Oh,” you craned your head up to him. “That’s okay, I just assumed you were busy.” He nodded, a little relieved and you reminded yourself not to be too soft on him just yet. He was fun to tease, after all. “Plus, I don’t see it fair that I should sit around and wait for you.”

“Yes, you’re correct. Something came up that required my attention.” Dutch’s smile at you was proud, and the subsequent kiss he pressed to your cheek was almost endearing. “Good girl. That’s much more like it.”

You rolled your eyes, the praise stoking the fire still dwindling in your abdomen. “Don’t say that.”

“But why?” he questioned, leaning in to kiss your neck, “you’re such a good, good girl...” His kisses grew tender, yet sultry enough for you to make you melt.

“Shut up,” you laughed, and Dutch’s chest vibrated with amusement as he returned to embrace you. Your laugh was so true, and while a voice in the back of Dutch’s head reminded him that he was a serial romantic with a volatile tendency to rush into everything, he found he simply couldn’t help himself. This really was your truest form, not in a sense of your desires, but you . Carefree and unbound by whatever pre-conceived notions you had in your head about what part you were to play as you moved through life. He found himself adoring it. Adoring you. He kissed the crown of your head.

After another unknown length of time, your absent-minded tracing of his forearms reminded you that he had a watch. You titled his wrist towards you.

“Shit, it’s three in the morning.”

“How time flies,” Dutch murmured, and you were sure he was close to falling asleep.

“Hey,” you sat up, “we definitely can’t fall asleep here.”

“No,” Dutch sat up reluctantly, already missing your warmth and chasing it by wrapping his arms around your abdomen and placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Come stay in my bed.”

“What?” you tutted, “are you insane?”

“Some have said so.”

“No way,” you laughed, swinging your legs off the sofa and finding your jeans, your top... “hey, where did you throw my underwear?”

Dutch shrugged, immediately following suit and grabbing his joggers from the floor. You frowned at him. “What?”

You reached over to his joggers and into his pocket. Lo and behold.

“What?” Dutch repeated.

You dressed quickly, walking out of the living room and up the stairs, then into Dutch’s room. You sighed, deciding where to look first. After a minute, Dutch caught up and leant casually on the doorframe while you searched his room.

“What is it, you lunatic?” he asked casually.

You huffed, giving up rather quickly. “Where are they.”

“Where are what?”

“My pants. They grey ones, with the lace. I know you have them,” you pointed accusingly at him.

Dutch broke out into a grin, a laugh accompanying it that you knew would be much heartier if you weren’t sneaking around in the dead of night. He walked nonchalantly to his nightstand, opened the drawer, and then held up the pants for you to see.

The bastard! You could hardly believe what you were seeing.

“I have been looking for those,” you scolded, going to grab them but he just lifted him further out of your reach. “Give them back!”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” he said, annoyingly.

“You stole them!”

“You left them here.”

“You’re a liar.”

Dutch smirked.

You made another futile attempt at grabbing them and failed. “They’re my favourite pair!”

“Mine too,” he said diplomatically.

“You’re a fucking pervert,” you narrowed your brow at him, placing your hands on your hips.

Dutch just shrugged. “None of us are perfect. Except maybe you,” he teased, giving you a patronising pat on the head.

So, even now, he still had time for games. You stripped off your jeans to reach your current underwear that he’d too tried to steal and pulled them off before redressing in just your jeans. “What are you doing?”

“Trade,” you held them out to him. “You can have these ones if you insist on being deranged. But I want those back.”

“Aw, no,” he shook his head disapprovingly, “it’s much less fun when you give them to me.”

“So you admit you stole them?”

Dutch didn’t respond, instead reached out and snatched the ones you held, joining them in his other hand.

“Dutch!” you said in a hushed voice.

“I’m a man with needs,” he countered, like a child hoarding toys they didn’t want to share, or a dog that had issues with resource-guarding.

“And I’m a woman with no underwear!”

“It’s a souvenir of our first meeting.”

“And what about that pair?” you shunted your hand at his newest theft.

He shrugged. “Sport, I guess.”

With a fold of your arms, you tried to give him an angry look but with his smirk, tousled hair, and fucked-out, tired expression, your smile cracked. The man was nuts, but you couldn’t deny that he was funny. “Fine. I give up,” you opened up your arms in surrender, then walked past him.

“You really aren’t staying here?”

“Not if I want to leave with my clothes.”

“I’m not interested in the rest of your clothes.”

“You have no shame.” Dutch smiled at that, pleased with himself. “And I’m tired. I will see you in the morning.” You gave him your best doe eyes and gently made your way towards him, brushing a hand over his arm. “Goodnight, Mr Van der Linde,” you said sweetly, leaning up to kiss him and when he returned your affections you reached for the pants clutched in his hands, for him to move them out of reach once more.

He chuckled, taking his lips from yours. “Nice try.”

“Bastard,” you grumbled, turning on your heels and exiting his room.

Once in the spare room, you quickly changed into a baggy top and wished you could have a shower, but that would have to wait. Although, something about falling asleep with Dutch still filling your insides was a rather erotic thought. With a silent thanks to the existence of contraception, your tiredness caught up with you and you didn’t even remember falling asleep.

Your choices came back to haunt you when you awoke the next morning, no longer feeling sexy and instead just feeling grimy. It was enough to get you out of bed, and you thanked the stars the shower was free.

When you walked downstairs, fresh-faced and clean, you were greeted with an empty kitchen but heard the television in the next room. In there, you found John, half-dead on the sofa.

“Morning Johnny,” you crooned leaning on the sofa with a teasing smile.

John’s response was a groan, and he shifted slightly from his face-down position to crank an eye open at you. If he only knew what that poor sofa witnessed a few hours previous.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Please,” he murmured, and you almost felt sorry for him. However, the knowledge that he wouldn’t learn his lesson and would absolutely repeat his actions blocked your empathy from fully forming.

“Alright,” you laughed, making your way back into the kitchen and looking over the fancy coffee machine. After figuring out how to work it, you waited while the machine whirled, and it wasn’t long before the kitchen door opened behind you.

“Good morning,” came Dutch’s gruff voice, and you turned to offer him a smile. He seemed genuinely pleased to see you, and you supposed you did have a track record of disappearing before morning.

“Morning,” you greeted back, moving one of the cups out of the way for another. “Would you like a coffee?”

“Sure,” Dutch came up beside you, placing a ginger hand on your black while he pressed the button for a black coffee.

“Huh, you really are crazy.”

“You don’t like black coffee?”

“I read that those who do are more likely to be psychopaths.”

Dutch smirked, tracing his fingers up your back to your shoulder and leaning down to your ear. “Then you better watch yourself.”

You turned your head to him, and you half thought the two of you were about to share a kiss when the machine beeped to let you know it was finished. Clearing your throat, you gripped his mug along with John’s and handed them to him. “That’s for your son. He’s next door.”

“Aren’t you an obliging woman,” he took the mugs from you with a wink and walked into the living room. You heard them chatting, mainly Dutch poking fun at John, while you made your own drink and joined John on the sofa when you were finished.

“All in all, good birthday then?”

John nodded, placing his mug down on the coffee table and snuggling up beside you. You snorted a laugh, and when you glanced at Dutch you could’ve sworn a wave of jealousy passed over his face.

The three of you sat chatting for some time while the news played in the background until John began to get antsy at not yet having a cigarette. Dutch decided to join him for one, leaving you alone. That was when you saw Dutch’s phone on the table, and an idea came to mind.

You picked it up, smiling briefly and the sweet picture of his three kids that made up his background, then wiped that image from your memory to prepare for what you were about to do. They’d be at least a few minutes, and you’d hear the back door when they decided to come inside. You shucked off your trousers and hiked up your shirt, sliding Dutch’s phone to the side to access his camera. You lay on the sofa, attempting to find a good angle and being pleased the lighting was forgiving in here. Once in a position you were happy with, you snapped a quick photo, closed his phone and returned it to its spot. Swiftly, you redressed and sat back on the sofa, with a few minutes to spare before the pair returned.

You weren’t sure if there was anything planned for the day, and while you didn’t want to overstay your welcome you figured out another way to tease Dutch one last time before your departure. Who knows when you were to see him again, after all.

Once you’d washed up the mugs, you leant on the breakfast bar to pull out your phone and book a taxi while John and Dutch came in from the garden.

“You two up to much today?” Dutch asked casually, and John leaned up beside you.

“No, I’m actually going in a few.”

“You’re welcome to stay for a bit,” John offered kindly, looking slightly more alive after some caffeine and tobacco.

“Thank you, but that’s alright. I’ve got some stuff I need to get done.”

“Well, I can give you a lift to the station,” Dutch interjected, adding, “John’s probably still far over the legal limit to drive.”

John laughed to himself in agreement, and you paused to raise your brows at Dutch.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already booked my taxi,” you held up your phone screen for him to see, the taxi only a couple of minutes away.

Dutch’s face twitched at your defiance, and you made a show of walking around the kitchen and slinging your overnight bag onto your shoulder.

“See you in a few weeks, John,” you hugged him, and smiled kindly at Dutch once John released you. “Nice to see you again, Mr Van der Linde.”

“Yeah, thanks for coming,” said John, and Dutch gave you a barely noticeable shake of his head, but his playful smile was prevalent. “Goodbye, miss,” he added.

With that, a satisfied smile grew on your face, and you made your way out of the Van der Linde house once more.

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

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