#very busy summer ahead of me …

[sporesigil]

evening at the lake

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

they call me the griever because halfway through a thing I enjoy I’m already sad that it’s closer to being over

[smutoperator]

Morning Roses

Park Chaeyoung (Rosé) x Male Reader

Tags: breeding kink, CMNF, (lots of) cock stroking, creampie, (lots of) fingering, good smell, morning sex, passionate sex, pussy sniffing, quickie, (a little) rimjob, switching

Word Count: 3177

Los Angeles, United States

It's early in the morning, and you're already up to go to work. The busy traffic of Los Angeles is implacable. However, as you were preparing to take your regular morning commute, you got a text message from a longtime lover you hadn't seen in a while.

"I'm in LA today; come see me." Rosé texted you. It had been a while since she had sent you a message. It used to be a given that she would come to your place every time she went to LA, but with her taking new steps into her solo career, you two were unable to see each other the last couple times she went to the city of angels.

You immediately canceled any of your plans, ready to see Rosé again after a long time. The selfie she had sent you drove you insane—her long blond hair, short skirt, long legs, and skinny body looking better than ever. She was truly aging like fine wine, becoming a hotter and hotter woman as time passed by.

You arrived at the house Rosé had sent the location to you; she greeted you with the same outfit she was wearing on that selfie. On a hot summer morning, Rosé got herself on the couch barefoot, close to the fan, as she stared at you reading this morning news, running her hands on her hair.

Rosé approaches you. "What are you waiting for?" she asks. "Why didn't you call me the last few times you were in LA?" You decide to play it tough with her. "Sorry, I was busy," she said. "And you don't think I'm busy today?" you punch back.

Rosé takes matters into her own hands, snatching your phone away as she sits on your lap, reclining her slim body onto yours. She doesn't say any words, just letting you slowly build up your uncontrollable desire for her as the flowery smell of hers invades your nostrils.

You two look at each other, pondering who's going to make the first move. You sniff Rosé's neck while she runs her hands into yours. She turns around, but you decide to play it tough, avoiding her seductive eye contact.

But Rosé has more than one way to seduce you. It's been five years since you first met, all the way back to her first performance at Coachella. She knows you can't resist her allure. She moves your hands into her body, placing them right at her erogenous zones. "I missed your touch so much, baby," she says.

"But there is something I missed much more," Rosé says shortly after, loudly unzipping your pants and reaching under them. You kiss her neck and blow a gust of wind into her ears, trying to react, but she's already far ahead, giving you a bright smile as she takes your belt completely off.

Rosé quickly brings you to your knees as she starts stroking your big cock. "Did you miss my touch?" she asks, bragging. "Ohhhh shit," is all you can say, your shaft pressed between Rosé's clothes, yours and her hand, her carefully masturbating your erection and growing bigger and bigger at each move.

You can no longer resist and pull Rosé's top to the side, showing her perky little milky tits and touching them. "Fuck," you whisper, reaching under her skirt and taking her panties off at the same time you pull her skirt down.

Rosé kisses you, taking her hands off your cock and letting you search for her tight entrance. You let out a couple moans as your dick slowly slides inside her slit. Now it's Rosé's turn to moan, holding your hand as her pussy slowly engulfs your cock. 

You dive your head into Rosé's tits as her tight walls crush your cock. In contrast to her usually bustling life in LA, Rosé is in no hurry, moving her hips at a very slow motion and warming up your cock with her sexy moves. She places her hands in her pussy and rubs her clit, following it with some caressing in your shaft. You now move into kissing her armpits and wondering how she can smell so good without any perfume, just au naturel.

Rosé increases the pace of her riding, taking your cock deeper in her pussy while she kisses you and you caress her clit. She then pauses a bit, letting you enjoy her clit as your fingers and your cock now simultaneously penetrate her pussy.

"Ahhh, fuck, your hands massage it so well," Rosé says as they stimulate her throbbing insides, and she kisses you once again. Her moans get louder, your cock digs deeper and deeper in her cunt, your hands do the same in her clit, she moves her hips, trying to answer your increasingly hotter stimulation.

Rosé's long legs shake and close as you massage her clit at full force now. "FUCKKKK, AHHHHHHH," she screams, your touch bringing her to her knees, the stimulation being so much for her that Rosé is unable to keep your cock inside her pussycat. But you don't care and just keep your hands working on her clit, proving that you can make her cum without even using your cock to do so.

You're now ready to turn the slim Aussie into your fucktoy. Your shaft is barely visible, just peeking out of your pants and then quickly disappearing in Rosé's pink pussy. She tries to resume her ride but is already too weak to continue, letting you kiss her perky tits instead. Rosé plays with her nipples as you suck them and goes back to massage her pink pussy. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhh, I can't take it; your hands are so good, fuckkkk me," she moans.

"OH FUCKKKKK," Rosé screams, as you don't even need to thrust upwards to dominate her perfect pussy, just letting your hands do all the work as they hit the Aussie slut's throbbing folds. Rosé once again can't handle your touch, squirting as your cock slides out of her cunt for a second time.

Seeing that you're easily winning the battle, Rosé changes her strategy, turning around and getting your cock back in her pussy as her panties still hang on by her thigh. She starts slow and romantically kisses you as she picks up the pace to ride your cock, pressing her nails against your suit. Her fast rides quickly turn the tide, as you're now the one hanging on for your dear life each time Rosé manages to get your shaft all the way down in her pink pussy and her hips clash against your balls.

"OH MY GOD BABY, OH MY GOD, YESSSS, KEEP DOING THAT!" you scream as Rosé's pussy bounces up and down your cock. "God damn it, you are such a good slut riding on my cock," you tell her. 

"You like it, baby?" Rosé asks with a smile on her face. She really loves to be on top of the world—well, on top of a big cock, which is basically the same for her—loving to see you struggling with her tight walls after you made the throb a couple minutes ago with that massage. "Damn it, your pussy is so tight," you say to Rosé. "And your cock is so amazing stretching it out," she replies, as you cling into her tits and suck them like a baby to save yourself from cumming.

Rosé takes what is still left of her top off, getting herself fully naked. The contrast of Rosé's goddess body with no clothes on and yours fully clothed as the morning sunlight invades the room is a sight to behold. She climbs off your body and pulls your pants down, getting on her knees to taste her juicy pussy out of your cock.

But before doing so, she teases you a bit, playing with your balls and eating your asshole while sniffing your thobbing shaft. "It smells like morning roses; it looks like I really left my mark on it," she says as she moves up to savor your balls and strokes your shaft, looking at you with naughty eyes as she performs a kissing blowjob, paying lots of attention to the tip and putting her sexy lips all over it.

"Fuck, fuck," it's all you can whisper as Rosé handles your shaft. You push her body close to yours to enjoy it as you two share more kisses; her never stop stroking that big cock, going even faster as you move into her neck and grip her ass, trying to survive her magical hands working all over that cock.

Rosé now holds your cocks with both hands, emerging as the clear winner as she arches her back and dominates you from top to bottom. Her naked butt looks absolutely perfect. You try to counter, using the same fingers that brought her pussy into submission to now dig inside her asshole. Bur Rosé quickly nullifies your attack, diving face-down straight to your cock while putting her ass up for you to look at and drool over.

"Like this, like this," you say as Rosé performs the boss-chair blowjob on you. But truth be told, she's the real boss, sucking the life out of your cock, getting especially sloppy with the tip as she spits all over it. "Yes, oh yes," you say as Rosé massages your prostate, sticking her long index finger up your butthole. She looks at you with dirty eyes, loving how your big cock is all hers to enjoy.

But you are determined to flip things around, putting Rosé in the chair as you dive to suck her tits and reaching your hands into her pink pussy. The chair rocks from side to side as you pin Rosé to it and dominate her, descending down her body and kissing it at every possible erogenous zone: her neck, her tits, her navel, her legs, and last, but not least, her amazing tight pussy.

You rest your head at Rosé's pussy, eating and sniffing it as she closes her eyes and naugtly moans. Good god, her pussy must have the best smell on earth. You never get tired of it. Even though you have known for a long time how good it tastes, each time she manages to surprise you with that amazing rose scent that quickly invades your nostrils and refuses to leave.

Rosé clenches her legs as you sniff her delicious clit. "Ahhhhh, ahhhhh, please eat that pussy like that," she moans, contorting her body all over the chair, trying to resist the magical work of your tongue. You give her a little rest as Rosé gets out of breath, taking your suit off. But not for long. As soon as she gives you that sexy stare that drives you crazy, you two go back to trading kisses and working your tongues all over your mouths.

But now you want to work a different part of your body on Rosé's, getting your cock back in her pussy as you lay Rosé's light body on top of the chair, admiring her perfect bikini mark as the sunlight makes her beautiful body glow.

"Lay down," you tell Rosé, slowly pushing her body down as you touch her breasts, her moans getting sexier than ever. "Please, baby, take it deep in my pussy," Rosé begs as you start thursting once again slowly, building up the heat inside her fuckhole. The summer heat forces you to take your clothes off as you pound her hard and finger her nipples. "AHHHHHHH," Rosé screams as you choke her, your cock now bulging under her skinny belly. You stop a bit to kiss her before coming full force to pound her tight pussy.

Rosé's body gets completely pinned down to the chair as you fuck her in a mating press position. "That's so good, that's so good, you're sending me to heaven," she moans as she fingers her clit, doubling the stimulation as you hit her pussy all the way down to her cervix.

"FUCK DAMN IT!" Rosé screams as your cock stretches her tight pussy even further. You look at her eye to eye, whispering dirty words in her ear. "I'm going to put a baby in this hot Aussie womb," you tell her. "Make you look like a kangaroo when I breed that pussy," you continue.

Rosé's skin turns red as she really gets down to the idea of getting impregnated. "Please, baby, get me pregnant; I want it so much," she says as you rest your cock close to her womb.

But you're not going to do that yet, wanting to enjoy Rosé's slutty body a little more. "First, I'm going to fuck the shit out of this beautiful pussy," you tell her, spitting on her face. "AHHHHHH, PLEASE, DESTROY THAT PUSSY," she begs as you grab her body and hit her cunt full speed, groping her tits with one hand and massaging her belly with the other, feeling your cock poke under it multiple times.

You flip Rosé around as soon as she squirts a little. "I didn't tell you to cum, slut. Now arch that back and put that ass up," you demand of Rosé, who lets out a moan. "Keep going, show me how much that big fucking cock loves to fuck my pussy," she punches back. 

Rosé gets her knees on the floor as you grab her beautiful ass from behind. She looks more submissive than ever. You pull her hair and increase the pace, pounding her pussy fast, hard, and deep and enjoying the massive recoil of her ass each time your balls hit her pale cheeks.

"You're so fucking perfect," you say to Rosé. "Tell me how much you love it then, baby," she replies. "Tell me how much you fucking love fucking me," she continues. "Is that your pussy?" she asks. "It's your pussy, isn't it, baby?" she keeps asking as you keep panting, getting closer and closer to cum at each thrust inside Rosé's tight fuckhole.

"HMMMMMMMM, AHHHHHHHH," Rosé suddenly screams as you give a spank to her ass. You're going to make it red, make it red, even though she's not a member of the group who sings that song. But her ass is so great and round you can't resist; it's just the perfect spot for your big hands to hit nonstop.

Rosé clings to the chair, trying to resist the fast poundings you give her. "FUCKKKKK, OH MY GODDDDDDD," she screams as soon as you add your hands inside her asshole, your cock and your fingers competing to see who fucks each hole faster. You then grab her little waist to get a better grip of the ausie fucktoy's body. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," you groan as Rosé's walls get tighter and tighter the more you pound her pussy. "KEEP GOING, THAT'S SO GOOD, AHHHHHH, SHITTTTT," she screams again.

"Oh baby, thanks for giving me that pussy," you tell her. Rosé just fingers her pussy, getting her walls tighter and tighter and preparing to milk you dry. "How good does my pussy feel, baby? The best pussy you ever fucking had?" Rosé says. "Yes, you're so fucking hot and tight, my favorite pussy in the whole world," you answer back.

"If I'm your favorite pussy, then show me and fill it full of your cum,"  Rosé says as you give her butt another spank. These words make you go feal. You tease Rosé as you rub your shaft between her asscheeks. "That's hot, baby, getting that cock ready to cum as hard as possible," she says. "I loved rubbing it against your red, spanked, slutty Aussie ass," you reply.

You give Rosé's ass a little more claps before lifting her right leg and diving under her to eat both her holes. "I want that pussy to be super tight; grip my cock until my balls are completely drained," you say to her. "Ohhh, yes, baby, that tongue is getting it tigther than ever; eat my pussy good and I'll make that cock cum like it never did," Rosé says.

Rosé chimes in and massages your balls while standing in one leg. "I can feel the cum building up for me; it wants to breed my pussy so bad," she says. "Eat my pussy like that; get it tighter," she demands from you.

"Are you ready for it?" you ask Rosé, indirectly making a reference to one of her friends. "I'm always ready; give it to me," she says. 

You search for Rosé's entrance to put your cock in her pussy for one final time. You two have fucked for a little under 30 minutes, but it's been so hot it feels like you've been going on for 3 hours. Her pussy is so tight you struggle to even hit the hole this time. "Oh my God, it's so tight," you say.

"Ahhhhh, shit," Rosé let out a big moan as you finally manage to get inside her. "I'm ready for it; how bad do you want to cum on this tight little pussy?" she asks. "Wanna fucking pump me until you cum inside it?" she keeps saying, building up the heat. 

"Cum inside that tight little pink pussy," Rosé says in a sexy whispering voice. The more she talks, the more you get turned on. "Give me all that hot sticky load inside it, please; I love it; I want it; fill me up, please," she continues to whisper.

"Fuck fill up that pussy, fucking cum inside me right now; I want it so bad; get me pregnant now. Breed me," Rosé begs with more whispers, feeling your cock pulsating in her tight hole as you start groaning. It doesn't take long for you to pump that hot, sticky load deep into her womb. She can't believe how much cum you managed to put inside that pink pussy. "Oh my God, that was amazing," she said. "It's been a long time since someone came inside me this hard," she said.

"That was a great morning fuck session; guess I need to go now; I'm very late to work," you say. "That's too bad; I'll miss you, and especially miss your throbbing cock pumping that big load in my pussy; who knows when I'm going to get it again," Rosé says, kissing you as you put your clothes back on and drive yourself back into the insane LA traffic.

The next day is really boring. After a morning of Roses, the afternoon is just more and more stressful work, leaving you extremely tired once you arrive at home. You sleep as soon as you get home, only waking up the next day with your phone's alarm clock. You take your regular morning shower and prepare your breakfast until another message from Rosé comes out.

"Come see me again; I got three more pussies for you to breed," she texts you, with this picture attached to it.

Damn, Rosé is really amazing. You know the moment she leaves LA, you'll be counting the days for her return.

[sescoups]

on my knees - choi seungcheol

masterlist

summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?

word count: ~9k oops

a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.

18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!

warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!

You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.

“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.

Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.

“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”

Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.

The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.

Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.

Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.

It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.

Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.

You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.

One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.

“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.

“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”

“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.

“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”

“Cool. Where to?”

“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”

You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”

“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”

“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.

Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.

You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.

The water.

You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.

The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.

“What’s up?”

Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.

“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.

“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”

“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”

You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don’t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.

You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.

Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.

You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.

“What the hell, Y/N.”

The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?

“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”

“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”

His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.

“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.

“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”

For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help.  “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”

You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.

When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.

You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.

Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.

You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.

“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.

“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.

“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”

He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”

Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.

“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”

He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.

Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”

He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.

Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.

After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”

“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.

Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.

Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.

“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”

“Please tell me you have food.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.

When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.

“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.

“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”

He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.

“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”

“9.30.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.

“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.

“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.

“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”

“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.

“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.

“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.

“Yeah, Cheol.”

“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”

“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”

“What about Chan?”

“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”

Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.

“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”

A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.

“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.

“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you�� serious?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”

“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.

“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”

“Hey!”

“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“Look, I don’t-”

“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”

Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.

His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.

“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.

“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.

This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.

“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”

You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.

You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.

He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.

“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.

“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”

You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.

“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”

He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.

You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.

“Cheol-”

“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.

“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.

When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.

“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.

“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”

Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?

“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.

The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.

With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.

“May I, baby? Please?”

“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.

You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.

“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”

He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.

“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”

Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.

“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”

“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.

You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.

His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.

Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?

When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.

“I- you can’t.”

“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”

“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”

His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.

“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”

“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”

“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”

You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.

As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.

“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”

His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.

As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.

He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.

Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.

Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.

In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.

“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.

Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.

Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.

You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.

You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.

“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.

“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.

You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.

“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”

You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.

“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”

“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.

“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.

“I would love nothing more.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”

It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.

Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.

“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.

“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”

a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3

masterlist

[sometimesanalice]

Save Your Midnights for Me

Summary: This year has thrown you through a loop. You lost your job, you moved to San Diego, and you reunited with your summer crush from all those years ago who still is just as handsome as ever. As the clock ticks down, you can’t help but wonder what the new year might have in store for you.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 9k

Warnings: fluff and two pining idiots in love

(Author’s note: this one is for the hopeful romantics! Happy New Year, friends!)

You’ve always loved New Year’s Eve. The excitement, the fun, the champagne, the confetti. Everyone riding the high of the hope and potential of the new year ahead.

But tonight, you were on the clock instead of watching as it inched closer and closer to midnight with every tick of the second hand.

The evening has been a whirlwind of cheerful faces as you pour pint after pint of frothy, cold beers. Your arms were definitely feeling the burn of all the margaritas and whiskey sours you’ve been serving up. You were putting all your well-earned practice from the last four months of working at the Hard Deck into good use for the steady stream of Naval patrons who had come to gather and celebrate.

But you liked the steady flow. It kept you focused; it kept you busy. With your head down and your thoughts occupied with tasks and orders and drink recipes and tabs, it spared you from having to see Bradley with the girl in the silver dress who was making it more than clear whose midnight kiss she was after.

Bradley Bradshaw had been the star in all your daydreams growing up. You just never could have anticipated that you still wouldn’t be able to kick that summer crush on him, even all these years later.

This year… hadn’t been the greatest.

The meeting you’d thought was going to be the start of a new chapter in your career with that promotion you’d been hoping and working so hard for had ended with you clearing out your desk and turning in your ID badge, but not even the decent severance package they sent you out the door with could have cushioned that blow.

You’d been laid off from your tech job just in time for your industry to be hit with hiring freezes so glacial it felt like there must have been a breakthrough in global warming, as if the ice caps weren’t melting.

You spent days then weeks then months applying and interviewing on repeat like a groundhog’s day from hell, only to encounter more closed doors than open ones. Had enough ever-so-casual networking coffee chats that you were pretty sure you’d need to switch to decaf if you still wanted to have some functioning adrenal glands by the time you were fifty.

Coming close- so, so close- so many times. Having the final decision come between you and another candidate only for your fingertips to slip off the edge at the very last moment.

Still freefalling the same way you’d been since you’d first been let go.

With your savings dwindling and spirits low, you’d decided that what you needed most was to decompress and reassess. And where better than the place where some of your favorite memories had been made.

All it had taken was one call to your Aunt Penny for the little strands of silver lining to peek out from behind the gray clouds that had filled your skies lately.

By the end of the conversation not only did you have a place to land- the furnished loft above the garage with an ocean view from the tiny kitchen- but also a just-for-now job too, getting to work with her at the bar. Something to help get you back on your feet while the dust of your imploded life settled around you as you figured out your next move.

You weren’t known for staying in any place too long as it was, so it had been easy to pack up and leave the city you’d been living in for the Southern California sun, feeling lighter than you had in ages.

Your mom’s longtime best friend was quite possibly one of your favorite people on Earth. And still is.

There was nothing you looked forward to more than those summers you got to spend in San Diego, when you got to trade your textbooks for days out on the boat. Your family would rent at home near the Benjamin beach house and for almost two months it was carefree days of endless blue water and sand between your toes.

But without a doubt, the highlight of your summer was always Bradley Bradshaw.

A few years older than you, he’d been the cute boy who was the object of all your daydreams. You couldn’t remember who you first celebrity crush was, but you definitely remembered the boy with the curly brown hair who was responsible for giving you butterflies in your stomach for the very first time.

While your brother was more than fine trying to ditch you at every turn, Bradley had always made you feel like you were right where you were supposed to be. He always made you feel included. He had been the one to teach you how to wakeboard, gave you his free dole whip when he made a hole-in-one at Tiki Town, and sat next to you the first time you ever rode the Giant Dipper Roller Coaster.

Even though Penny and Mav’s relationship had been on and off for years, Bradley had remained a steady presence in your life every July and August.

Until the one summer when he didn’t show up.

You’d sat on the stairs with your arms wrapped around your knees that first night and listened on as your mom and Penny talked, piecing together the explanation for Bradley’s absence and why your aunt was dating the uninteresting man you’d met earlier that night at dinner.

The sun, the sand, and the sights were all the same. And yet everything had changed after that.

That had been your last San Diego summer.

You moved on, you went to college, you grew up. But you had never forgotten the boy who had made you feel like sunshine.

You’d always hoped he remembered you just as fondly.

When you heard that Penny and Mav were back together, you thought there might be a chance to see him again, you were always curious about how things had turned out for you. You just never expected for him to quite literally crash back into your life.

Or for all of those sun-warmed feelings came rushing back.

It was your third day of working at the Hard Deck.

You were still getting use to the lay of the land- and announcing corner whenever you made your way out of the stockroom- when you’d come out of the back with your arms full of refill napkins packs only to collide with a wall of muscles with a less than dignified oof.

“Oh, shit!” The hand that reached out to grasp your hip was probably the only reason you hadn’t landed on your ass, even as the napkins went everywhere. “Sorry, that was my- wait, Bee?”

The nickname from your younger years was exclusively reserved for close family and friends. Shortened over time from busy bee, a name your mom still wrote in your birthday and Christmas cards, because of the way you were always pursuing new activities with the kind of intense tenacity only found in the most precocious of kids.

Although, no one who’d known you squarely post-braces had ever called you that before. And definitely not anyone so solidly built with such a masculine, raspy voice.

But you knew those rich brown eyes and sun-streaked curls.

Just like you knew that under the soft looking linen blend shirt there’d be freckles dotted along his shoulder. Just like you knew that he was left-handed but preferred to throw a baseball with his right. Just like you knew he rode the Beach Blaster four times in a row that one time, not because he liked it, but because he was trying to get over his fear of heights.

“Bradley?” The right side of his mouth pulled up in a smile, seemingly pleased you recognized him. “Bradley Bradshaw?” you repeat, because even though he was standing less than three feet away from you, your brain was having a hard time processing the boy you’d known was now the man in front of you.

You hadn’t seen him since you were fifteen.

Although, you did try to look him up once in college when you and your roommates were tipsy off cheap sparkling wine and talking about first crushes. Giggling over poor choices and high-fiving over the ones who still Had It. Only when it was your turn, you’d found out pretty quick that he wasn’t on any socials- at least none that the four of you could sleuth out drunk on sheer determination and peach Andre. They’d let you have the rest of the bottle as a consolation prize when you’d all come up emptyhanded.

Bradley Bradshaw had remained a mystery to you, until that moment.

Gone was any trace of baby fat from his familiar face, replaced with a defined jaw and crinkles around the corners of his eyes. There were scars on his cheek and neck that hadn’t been there before, but the smile underneath that mustache was the same one from those summers all those years ago.

“It’s been a long time, huh?” Bradley said.

The only difference was the cute boy you’d known growing up was now quite possibly the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

“How’d you get even hotter?” you blurted. It only took a split second for your brain to catch up with your mouth, wincing at the words that hung in the air unable to take them back.

Bradley’s eyes widened in surprise just for a moment before he laughed. Loud and unguarded and amused.

Mortified and flustered you drop down to your knees to pick up the scattered brown craft paper wrapped bundles of napkins that littered the narrow hallway. His presence- and bulk- filling up the already small space.

He kneeled down next to you, helping to collect the packs. “I don’t know about ‘hotter’, but probably taller since that last time I saw you.” You couldn’t help but notice how big his hands were as he reached for the furthest one that was sent flying as victim of your two-person Big Bang.

And broader, you think.

“We’ve been doing a lot of push-ups lately,” Bradley chuckled, “I keep telling the squad to stop underestimating the old man, but they never learn. They’re still just as competitive as ever.”

“Jesus,” you muttered under your breath, needing a rock to crawl under. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that ruffled around a man before. So caught off guard that all semblance of casually cool had left the building. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, and attempted to diffuse the situation with some self-deprecating humor, “Well, I wish second puberty had been as kind to me as it was for you.”

“From what I can see, it looks like it was pretty damn kind to you too.”

You’d pressed your lips together and fought back grin as you shook your head, reaching for another bundle. The last thing you’d needed was for him to be charming too.

You felt his gaze on the side of your face, like he was trying to catch your eye, and when you couldn’t avoid it any further without making it weird you met those warmer than cinnamon brown eyes.

“It’s good to see you again.” There was an earnest smile still in place on his face as he passed you the napkins he’d collected from his side of the hall.

He looked at you- probably the same way you’d been looking at him only a couple moments ago- trying to reconcile the carefree girl with the stunned woman in front of him, seeing what changes could be picked out on a face that hadn’t been seen in over a decade. You didn’t dare call it interest that was flickering in his eyes, but you could safely say there was at least some curiosity reflected in them.

You knew he wasn’t flirting, just trying to make you feel better less awkward about your earlier slip. Playing along the same way he did when he’d sabotage your brother at the water gun war game at Belmont Park so that you could stand a chance at winning a stuffed animal prize.

“It’s good to see you again, too,” you replied, meaning it as you gave him a smile of your own for the first time and watching as his own grew a little wider.

“Bee? Did you find them? The napkins should be-” Penny came rounding the corner, taking in the scene in front of her and who you’d been delayed by. Your whole body jolted like she’d caught you playing 7 Minutes in Heaven instead of crouching on the floor. “Oh, I see you’ve found Rooster. And the napkins.”

“It was my bad, Penny, I plowed right into her,” Bradley- Rooster?- said standing back up, wrapping a hand under your elbow to help guide you up to your feet.

“Sorry, I’ll be right there,” you told her, gesturing with your napkin filled arms. He was quick to reach out and catch one of the slipping packs from the top of the pile before it could fall to the ground again, helping you to get them better situated and less like a Jenga stack waiting to collapse.

“There’s no rush. I just wanted to make sure you were finding everything alright.” Her eyes drifted back and forth between the two of you, before landing on him and flicking down to the hand still on your elbow. “Hey, since you’re here, would you mind grabbing a fresh keg of the Stone Brewing lager for me?”

He nodded, letting go of you and hooking his thumbs into his front pockets. “Sure thing, can do.”

“Thank you, Bradley. And Bee,” she continued, turning back to you, “You can just bring those up when you’re ready.” You didn’t know what to make of the smile she gave you before she’d set off back to the bar.

The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, although it hadn’t been the uncomfortable kind.

Bradley cleared his throat, his mouth quirking to one side. “I feel like there’s some kind of ‘the birds and the bees’ joke here. One I’m not qualified to make since you were always the funnier one of the two of us.”

That time it was your turn to laugh. You were more than a little pleased when his deeper one mixed with yours.

You warred with yourself- still holding those damn napkins- whether or not to wrap things up and go take them to Penny, but you wanted to know more.

“Rooster?” you’d asked, tilting your head at him in question.

“Believe it or not, I finally got past that fear of heights,” he explained, “I’m a pilot now.” You felt your smile grow on its own, it was something he’d always talked about. You were happy to learn he’d made it happen for himself. “Rooster is my callsign.”

It was a name you’d heard a few times since moving into the loft above the garage. The way Penny said it always made it seem like you should know who she was talking about, you just hadn’t taken a moment to ask, figuring that you’d meet this mysterious ‘Rooster’ eventually. You just never would have guessed you already knew him.

You told him as much, adding on, “Maybe she thought we’d kept in touch.”

“I would have liked that.” You ignored the fluttering low in your stomach. There was something in his voice that made your mouth go a little dry. “What’re you doing later? Are you here for long? I’d like to catch up, if you have time for an old friend.”

Friend.

The word shook you out of whatever Bradley Bradshaw induced haze you’d found yourself in.

You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but one thing was for sure, all the two of you were ever going to be was platonic. It was a necessary reminder before any coconut sunscreen scented daydreams tempted you off course.

A smile stayed plastered to your face, one that felt more forced than it had been a few heartbeats ago, “I’m behind the bar until midnight, but I’ll be your friendly neighborhood bartender for the foreseeable future.”

Bradley grinned. “Guess, I’ll be seeing you around then, Bee.”

“I guess you will, Rooster.”

And you did.

You went from not seeing Bradley Bradshaw for over a decade to seeing him multiple times a week.

He kept you company at the bartop, swiveling on his stool, on slow nights as you found little projects to keep yourself occupied, like polishing and reorganizing the Hard Deck’s glassware collection. Filling each other in on the important things and people that had helped shaped the two of you into the adults that you’d grown into.

Rooster introduced you to his friends and teammates, making you feel not only included but liked you belonged in that same way he had when you were kids. Seamlessly bringing up common interests you shared with the people closest to him, giving you something to connect with them on your own outside of him. Always taking the initiative to extend invites your way to hang out at the beach or to check out the best spot for breakfast or to experience a Padres game complete with an unofficial culinary food tour of Petco Park.

He helped you paint the kitchenette in the loft a soft blue- with your aunt’s permission, of course. Meticulously taping off the countertop edges and cabinets, yet somehow ending up wearing more paint on an old, tightfitting UVA shirt that had seen better days than he got on the wall.  

And on Sunday nights he was seated across from you at the oak dining table with Amelia, Penny, and Pete for the weekly dinner the five of you all had together. They’d been back together for over a year now, and it seemed like it was for good this time based on the way they looked at each other. Your aunt was noticeably happier than she’d been even just a few years ago, that spark back that had been dimmed from an unhappy marriage.

You were happy for her and Mav.

He’d even taken you for a spin on his motorcycle. It was a one and done event, reaffirming what you already knew, that you were more of a four-wheel girl than a two-wheel one.

When you weren’t at the bar or working on the few remote side gigs you’d taken on to keep your skills feeling fresh, you were helping Amelia learn to code. It wasn’t your forte, but you were having fun spending time with her and teaching her what you did know. And in return, she’d help you to revamp your wardrobe a bit. You thought California cool looked good on you.

There had been a brief moment when you’d been packing up your old apartment when you’d worried about being lonely in San Diego not knowing anyone outside of your family, but you were the furthest thing from lonely and you had Bradley to thank for that.

It was nice to have friend.

However, you were finding that crush on him harder to get over than you anticipated.

You still get annoyed at yourself when he smiles at you a certain way making your cheeks heat up and your stomach flip. Although, you try not to be too hard on yourself because he’s genuinely kind and good looking and you’re only human. God knows you’ve seen enough people notice him too from your perch behind the bar.

But there were worse problems to have.

You had spent that morning getting the Hard Deck decorated for the big New Year’s Eve party.

As the first to arrive, you’d gotten the coffee going on the ancient coffee maker that you were trying your hardest to get Penny to replace when a big hand skimmed the side of your waist, reaching past you to steal the cup you’d just poured for yourself.

You turned to see a sleepy looking Bradley standing behind you, his curled looked more like they were fresh off his pillow than the way you usually saw them styled.

“It’s too early for this.” You watched as he took a big swig from the cup, wincing as he registered just how hot Jimmy’s machine had brewed the coffee, just a couple degrees below scalding.

You gave him an unimpressed look, “Says the man who routinely wakes up at 5am for a sunrise run.”

“It’s the weekend, Bee,” Bradley said like it explained everything.

“It’s a Wednesday.”

“Schematics.” He took another deep sip of your coffee, but not before you caught the mischievous way his mouth was curved upwards. “Everyone knows the days between Christmas and New Years Day are the Wild West of the calendar year, every day is a weekend day from the 26th to the 1st.”

You actually hadn’t seen Rooster since Christmas.

You’d decided to spend the holiday in San Diego since your parents had decided this was the year they were finally going to check out the Christmas markets in Europe like they’ve always wanted too. And you didn’t want to crash your brother’s first Christmas as a dad, instead you’d sent the most obnoxious baby toy you could find online in addition to a silky soft stuffed rabbit with your niece’s name embroidered on the ear.

When you opened the front door with the pretty stained glass sailing boat picture window, you’d been surprised to see Bradley standing there with a white faux fur trimmed Santa hat and holding a bag with unexpectedly well wrapped presents in one hand and a creamy, cranberry-colored pie in the other.

Your hand stayed glued to the doorknob as his eyes trailed over you. The house had been warm but a shiver still worked its way through your body as he took in your festive pajamas.

Before he could say anything Amelia ever-so-helpfully pointed out the mistletoe you’d conveniently forgotten about that had been hung above the wood door. Frankly, she sounded a bit too enthusiastic about it.

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like little punk, although his tone was so affectionate that you thought you must have misheard him. But you didn’t get to think on it for too long because then he was leaning in, in, in.

Your heart shot straight into your throat at the first prickle of his mustache and then the slightly dry lips as they brushed against your cheek for the briefest of moments.

And then he pulled away all too soon.

Friend. Friend. Friend. You tried to remind yourself, but your heart was too aflutter to get the message.

He looked you straight in the eyes as he stepped back, “Can you do me a favor, Bee?”

You must have made a sound that was close enough to an mhm, because then he passed you the bag of presents and the pie waiting only long enough to make sure you had a good hold on them both before darting around you to chase after Amelia.

Amelia squealed when Bradley caught her, ducking his head down to drop a playfully chaotic kiss on her cheek.

He ended up giving Penny and Mav the same treatment too. Although Pete shoved him away good-naturedly when he tried to plant a particularly sloppy one on him.

All while your feet stayed glued to the same spot they were when he kissed you.

But that was six days ago. Probably the longest stint without seeing him since you collided with him that afternoon a few months ago.

The smell of strong coffee and cinnamon had coaxed you back into the moment, and you’d shook your head a bit like that would help you clear your mind with Bradley standing so close to you again.

“I don’t think it’ll take us too long,” you declared, trying to get focused back on the task at hand- that being the unofficial head of the NYE decorating committee, “I even made us a schedule.”

“Of course you did. Is it color-coded?” he asked over the rim of the chipped mug.

“And if it is?” you countered, unashamed of your planning. And then there was that damn smile of his.

“Then I’m really going to need this coffee,” he winked, and poured you a cup of your own.

You’d been right though. With everyone pitching in things came together rather quickly.

The morning moving steadily as the Christmas decorations were replaced with classic the gold and white and black color scheme you’d went with for the party. The silver tinsel tree covered in beach themed shaped ornaments with a few planes hung about by the front door might have stood out at odds with everything else, but metallic was a neutral in your book so you’d opted to keep the cheerful tree up just a little bit longer and tucked a few party blowers into the branches to tie it in with the rest of the space.

It was easy for you to get in the zone, delegating and divvying up the tasks on your color-coded schedule, putting all your project tracking skills to use. There were dozens of strands of string lights that had to gone up on the ceiling and along the walls. All of the windows with the snowflake cut outs you and Amelia had made for Christmas were framed in a metallic fringe. There was a station with hats and headbands and glasses in case anyone was feeling particularly festive. The tables and booths had been stocked with noise makers and confetti poppers in addition to the mirrorball centerpieces and confetti scatter.

Everything sparkled and shined, the light bouncing off everything gave the bar a wonderfully hazy glow, it was the perfect ambiance for the most hopeful night of the year.

At one point, you’d been working on hanging up some dangling golden stars from one of the ceramic mug rounders only to find Bradley standing there at the base of the ladder behind you with a well-defined arm stretched out just in case you lost balance.

And then just like that, your focus went out the window. Because then he was everywhere. He made it impossible for you to not notice him, especially since so many of your jobs and his overlapped, something you’d come to regret more and more as the hours went by.

You’d been working on tying off balloons and lamenting the fact you didn’t order another pump with the tying tool, when you’d decided to take a break to massage your numb fingertips. You looked up to check the progress made with fresh eyes, to see Rooster on a ladder helping Mav to get the netting set up for the balloon drop.

The athletic shorts he’d been wearing were hanging low on his hips. And as he reached up to hand Pete another nail it caused his t-shirt to ride up giving you a glimpse of toned stomach and tantalizing v-lines. It was just as tempting as it was taunting.

You’d switched to ice water after that.

The image was seared into your mind for the rest of the afternoon. Not even the freezing cold shower you’d hopped into the second you made it back to your loft to freshen up before the party had helped. Neither had the rushed orgasm to take the edge off, because it wasn’t your own fingers that you wanted.

He’d found you before the party well and truly started.

You’d been double checking all the prep, making sure you had the bar stocked up as was possible without losing any valuable space, when you felt a hand on your back. Bradley was dressed up in a navy suit that fit him in all the right places, looking more handsome than you knew possible. All broad shoulders and thick thighs. The top button of his pristinely pressed white shirt undone, giving you a peek at the divot base of his throat.

You weren’t sure what made you more flustered, that hint of his neck or the skin under his bellybutton that you’d seen only a couple hours ago.

A soft smile coasted over his face as he took in your New Years’ Eve finest. “You look-”

“I know, rhinestones for New Years’ Eve, how groundbreaking,” you joked, cutting him off and giving your best Miranda Priestly impression.

You were wearing a black velvet jumpsuit for the party. You loved the way it fit the curves of your body and the way the halter top made your collarbones and shoulders look. There was just a hint of skin with the keyhole near the bust. But it was also practical- right down to your plain black no-show panties you had on- so you could move easily without worrying about giving anyone an eyeful. It wasn’t the flashiest of outfits, there’d be more than enough sequins later on, but the way Bradley was looking at you made it feel like your off the rack might as well be haute couture.

“I was going to say, you look good. Really good.” Bradley takes his time letting his eyes drag down your body, his cheek kicking up when he lands on your shoes. “I especially like the birks, they tie the whole look together.”

The clogs you were wearing were decidedly unsexy, not many people could pull of the potato shoe, but you weren’t there as a party guest, you still had work to do and your night was just getting started. “I don’t think stilettos and stouts would mix together very well,” you said by way of explanation.

Bradley chuckled and reached out taking an end of the little rhinestone bow that dangled from right beneath your neck where the straps met and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. “I think this might be my favorite part though,” he rasps lowly. There was an intensity in his eyes directed at you that you hadn’t seen before.

For a moment it looked like he was about to say more, and then a glass shattered.

The sound of it caused you to crash back into your body.

“And so it begins,” you announced, taking a half step backwards and out of his touch, that rhinestone cord falling back against your sternum with a gentle thud that you felt reverberate in your chest.

You heard him say your name, but you were already setting off for a broom.

So you’d kept your head down and your hands busy.

It felt like for every drink you made, two more were ordered. Barely noticing as the final minutes of this year flew by while you garnished drinks with bright cherries and slices of lemon with a flourish before handing them off.

Offering smiles and well wishes to those here to celebrate. True to your namesake as you swiped cards and counted bills and mixed and poured and served the drinks to the ever-rotating people in front of you.

You made eye contact with Rooster a couple times throughout the night, the same way you usually did when you were behind the bar and he was there. Eyes drawn to him like a magnet against your will.

He hadn’t come up to you at all since before the party started. You’d seen him with the Daggers when you went to refill the water tank, heard the keys of the upright piano when you grabbed more ice from the back room, saw him talking with the girl in the shiny dress and her interested eyes as you put the freshly washed glasses away.

Just like he’d been the best parts of your San Diego summers, he’d become the best part of your year.

You’d spent the last four months trying to convince yourself that it was a silly crush, that you could will it away or get over it. But now just a couple moments shy of a new year barreling towards you, it was time to face the fact that Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t someone you were ever going to get over.

Although if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure you wanted to get over him.

You’re giving the counter a quick wipe down, taking advantage of the brief lull when the music cuts off, startling you out of your thoughts.

Twelve!

The countdown had snuck up on you. Just like everything else had this year.

Eleven!

You’d had your fill of unexpected surprises, some for the worse and some for the better. While it felt like you’d had more downs than ups, you were ending the year feeling the most content you have since you were laid off. And that was more than good enough for you.

Ten!

At the beginning of this year, you never would have guessed that you’d end it in San Diego. This year had taken from you, but it had also given you a lot. New friends, new places to explore, new memories, new hopes.

Nine!

You were still figuring things out and that was ok. Even though you still weren’t sure what was next for you, you knew everything would work out. One way or another you’d find yourself on the other side of this and able to look back with pride for making it through all the challenges that had been thrown your way.

Eight!

And while things didn’t shape out the way you anticipated them to, with goals still yet to be achieved and a vision board of ideas that you’d carry into the new year, you had so much to be grateful for.

Seven!

You liked San Diego- and not in the just-for-now way. You liked the life you were building here. You liked the beach and the sand and the sun. You liked you Sunday dinners with Penny and Amelia and Pete. You liked the people you were surrounded by. You liked the stories you’ve collected from your side of the bar. You liked the diner down the road with their perfectly shaped coffee cups. You liked your new normal while you got your feet back under you. You liked the potential you felt was here.

Six!

And then there was Bradley.

Five!

You were avoiding looking in his direction, too worried about what you might see, not wanting to end this year with another disappointment. You’ve come to accept that he had a piece of you that you weren’t sure you were ever going to get back. But that was something for you to deal with next year.

Four!

For now, you are right where you are supposed to be.

Three!

Because what is meant for you will never pass you by. Not in life and not in love. And that was something you could count on, something you could hold onto.

Two!

You smile to yourself and close your eyes.

The crowd chants One!

You breathe out and let go.

And when the cheers of Happy New Year! ring out, you breathe in and open your heart up to all the possibilities.

Enjoying the moment for what it was- exactly as it was- as the party noise makers started going off all around you.

As New Years’ kisses were traded.

As people greeted a fresh, bright New Year with wide-open and welcoming arms.

Where anything could happen.

Where anything was possible because the year was waiting to written.

You tip your head back and open your eyes, watching as the balloons you’d spent the afternoon tying knots in started to fall, slowly at first and then more until your view was a cocoon of black and gold and white and clear blocking out the rest of the world from view.

Time seemed to slow a bit as the confetti poppers joined the mix adding to the echo of fireworks going off nearby. The glints of gold and little shiny dots of sparkles and streamers seemed to hang in the air. There was a cacophony of cheerful noises, from the poppers to the people to the familiar sound of Whitney Houston being piped over the static-y speakers.

A moment of magic for you and you alone, as you pocketed the hope and optimism you felt rippling around you.

Over the next couple of hours pass just as swiftly as before. As you got back into the groove of serving people, your brain snagged on the sound of Aud Land Syne being played on the upright piano at the other end of the bar, and the only person it could be playing it.

It wasn’t long before people steadily started to trickle out the front door.

You’d made sure to shoo Penny out to the dance floor with Pete as the lineup of people slowed down enough for her to have some New Years Eve fun.

No one had gone too crazy, but even so, you helped arranged people rides to get home safe between closing out tabs and announcing the last call for the few people who wanted to stick it out until the very end. Waving to your new friends as they all slowly but surely made their exits.

You’d lost track of Rooster along the way, it would have been nice to wish him a Happy New Year, but it was probably for the best. It was easier on your heart to not know whether he left with some of the Daggers or with the girl with the silver sequins.

You just locked the door after the last couple stragglers had left for the night. You’d sent Penny away a little over a half an hour ago- along with Mav- since there’d been only a handful of people to look after.

She’d made you promise not to stay behind after locking up, but you didn’t see the harm in tidying things up a bit more. You were collecting the empty glasses that had been scattered about and abandoned on window ledges and tables when you caught a figure out of the corner of your eye, nearly causing you to drop the bus tub you were holding on to.

“Bradley! Jesus.” You set the plastic tub down on a table with more force than necessary, the glasses rattling against each other, and press a hand to your chest where your heart is rapidly knocking about. “What are you still doing here?”

You figured he left already, so you’re more than a little surprised he’s still here. And not just because he startled you half to death.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, putting his hands up. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, I was taking out some trash and then got held up talking to Jake for a few minutes. I didn’t realize everyone else had left.”

“I just locked the front doors,” you say, waving towards the now closed front door.

Bradley takes a cautious step closer. “So, it’s just us then?” He doesn’t even have the decency to look like he’s been partying for the better part of five hours, he looks just as handsome as he did at the start of the evening, whereas you’re sure you probably look as ruffled as you felt.

“We’re the last two standing,” you confirm, putting your hands on your lower back to stretch out the tightness that had settled along your spine over the course of the night, “But just barely, on my end.”

“You’ve been busy tonight.” You hum in agreement and reach for a foam-covered glass that was left between the coaster holder and napkin dispensers. His big hand closing around it first and he pins you with a look, leaning a hip against the table, “So tell me, why are you still cleaning when you and I both know for a fact Penny hired a crew to take care of this in the morning?”

You don’t have an answer for him, at least, not one you were willing to share. That even though the ball had dropped and the confetti had fallen you weren’t ready to have the night be over yet. Knowing that the moment you locked up for good and got in your car and headed home, that the bottle of champagne you’d bought for yourself and plans with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal wouldn’t hit quite the way you’d hope it would.

Instead, you offer him a shrug.

Bradley’s eyes search yours for a moment before he gives you a gentle smile. “C’mon, busy bee, I think you’ve more than earned yourself a glass of champagne.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, already making his way towards the bar, not that you put up much of a fight. The ‘Greatest Hits’ playlist that Penny had queued up for the night is still playing in the background, you recognize opening notes of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” as you trail after him.

You lift an eyebrow as he pulls out a stool for you, but he just mirrors you by lifting one of his own and gestures to the seat. You think you feel his thumb sweep over your hip as he helps you into the stool before stepping into the front bar. A little sigh of relief slips out of you, finally off your feet for the first time all night.

You’re tired, but it’s a happy kind of tired. You’d had a nice time all things considering. Seeing the bright faces of everyone tonight had made all the work you’d put in feel worth it, all the planning and prep and decorating made it worth it if tonight ended up being a fond memory for someone.

Bradley grins at you from over his shoulder mischievously, “You know, Penny’s never let me behind the bar before.” He says it so conspiratorially, like he’s getting away with something and you’re an eyewitness to his delinquency, as if he wasn’t a decorated golden boy of the United States Navy.  

You laugh, endeared by the boyish smile on his face. “Probably because you’re never wearing the right shoes,” you tease, wiggling a clog towards him.

And he chuckles, warm and affectionate.

Rooster finds the freshly washed glasses easily- Pete had done a great job as the designated dishwasher of the evening, loading and unloading glasses as quickly as they came with speedy efficiency. You see as his hand hesitates for a moment eyeing the already open bottle of champagne on the counter warily, and you point a glossy cranberry coated fingernail to the fridge under the counter, where you knew a few uncorked ones were still stocked knowing that Penny won’t mind if you pilfer a celebratory bottle to share between yourselves.

With your help he finds the chilled bottle and shoots the cork across the room with a cheerful pop! You make a mental note to pick it up later marking the spot in your mind, which he must notice because he says, knowingly, “Don’t worry, I’ll grab it later. You’re officially off the clock.”

He pours you a glass and then one for himself with a flourish, clearly showing off as the bubbles fizz to the top of the rim without spilling over. You’ve spent all night catering to everyone else, it’s nice to have someone looking out for you now.

Rooster holds out a glass for you, “Cheers, Bee.”

You smile and clink yours against his.

The bubbles burst across your tongue, refreshing and crisp. The two of you sip on your glasses of champagne in companionable silence for a few moments, enjoying the calm after a busy day and busier night.

“Did you have a nice time tonight, Bradley?”

“It was nice enough, I guess,” he says, giving you a half smile, “I’m having a much better time now though.”

You take another little sip, attributing the fluttering in your chest to the bubbles.

“It feels weird to be sitting on this side of the bar,” you muse, changing the subject, “You know, I don’t think I made you a drink at all tonight.”

He takes the bottle and pours you a little more. “People kept hogging my favorite bartender.”

You grin into your glass.

“I would have made time for you,” you say.

He leans down and fold his arms in front of him, so that your faces are level. “You would have?”

The answer comes easily. “Of course.”

Bradley gives you a look you don’t know how to interpret, like reading your face isn’t enough that he wants to know what’s going on inside of your head. You always kind of thought your cards had been on the table the whole time, but maybe you’d been keeping them closer to your chest than you’d realized.

“It was nice of you to make sure Penny and Mav got out on the dancefloor earlier.”

“You saw that?” It hadn’t been an easy feat, but it had been worth it to see them looking at each other in a way you hoped you’d find someday.

His gaze is steady when he replies, “I did.”

Flustered now, you feel your cheeks heat up. “Amelia and I had a bet about if he was going to propose tonight, and I thought I’d do my part to try and help her win twenty dollars. I didn’t think he would, at least not here in front of a crowd of people, but I hope he’ll do it soon.”

He nods, taking a sip of his own, the tips of his ears getting red.

You lean forward on your elbows, “Tell me what you know, Bradshaw.”

“I’m a vault,” he says, shaking his head.

“Does he have a ring?” you ask, elatedly.

Bradley takes another deep sip of champagne, giving you nothing, at least not with his words. But you don’t need him to confirm, not with the way his lips are turned up, clearly happy for his uncle and your aunt.

Good, you smile to yourself, that’s good.

“I also happened to notice that you didn’t get to dance at all tonight.”

“No, I didn’t.” You could have. Penny had tried to get you to take a few minutes to enjoy yourself, but you kept finding excuses to stay planted where you were. “There’s always next year,” you add, circling your finger around the base of your champagne glass.

Bradley steps out from behind the bar and takes the half full glass from your hand, setting it on top of a coaster in a move that you find entirely too appealing.  And holds out a hand out for you, “We should fix that.”

His large fingers wrap around your hand- strong and sure- as he guides you towards the old jukebox, the two of you walking over the confetti covered floor and though the sea of balloons that bobbed in your wake.

He lets go when the two of you have reached the middle of the makeshift dancefloor that had been cleared of the tables that were normally there for the night. Your feet stay put as he makes his way to the sticker covered jukebox and starts flipping through the options.

“I keep trying to get Penny to get a new one that takes a card,” you say nervously, filling the quiet, the air now charged with something new between the two of you. “Or one with an app, where people could pay and pick things from their phone.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” he teases playfully, still scanning through the CDs, clearly on a mission to find a particular song.

“She keeps a couple spare quarters on the ledge behind it- but uhm- I’m not sure if they’re still there or not, or if people have already used them. I could grab some from the register-”

You take a half step back, but Rooster stops you.

“Don’t go flying away, Bee.” He pulls out his wallet from the inside of his suit jacket and fishes out a couple coins, holding them out on his flattened palm for you to see. “You see, I’ve been saving these ones for just the right girl.”

You didn’t know your heart could beat so fast.

Bradley slips them into the machine with a metallic plink, once and then twice. The corner of his mouth pulls up as his eyes drift over you. “Yeah, you’re definitely an N24 kind of girl.”

He punches in the code and walks purposefully back to you.

The gentle sound of an acoustic guitar crackles to life over the old speaker system of the Hard Deck, the song much slower than you were anticipating. The opening notes are familiar ones to you, but different than what you were used to hearing. This rendition was delicate and atmospheric. Intimate. Almost like the music was wearing its heart on its sleeve.

Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you in. His eyes are heavy on yours, you feel the weight of them everywhere. He coaxes your hand onto his broad shoulder and takes the other one in his, drawing it to his chest.

He holds you close as he leads you in a dance.

No one has ever looked at you the way he is looking at you.

“Ask me about my night again,” he murmurs, invitingly.

You swallow. “Did you have a nice time earlier tonight?”

“No.” Your breath stutters in your chest and you miss a step, but he easily guides you through it. “No,” he repeats, “I didn’t because I couldn’t spend it with the only person I want to.”

Your voice has escaped you, not that you’d trust it not to completely give you away.

“This is the part where you ask me how it’s going now.” He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, encouragingly.

“This doesn’t feel very friendly,” you whisper.

Bradley presses you even closer to him. Every part of you is touching him, and you’re warm everywhere. “That’s good,” he rasps, “Because I’m not really going for just ‘friendly’ here, honey.”

You see everything there plain as day, written all over his face.

All you can say is his name.

“Bradley.”

And he says yours in return, so gently like it’s precious to him.

“I kept hoping you’d look my way during the countdown. But then you looked so thoughtful and all I wanted was to see that moment through your eyes. I couldn’t look away, you’re so beautiful.”

Feeling brave, you slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, combing your fingers through the short hair at the base of his head. He hums, pleased and content.

“You didn’t get a New Years Eve kiss.” It’s a statement. Like he knows because he was paying attention.

Your stomach swoops, and it’s like you’re fifteen and riding the Giant Dipper again.

“Neither did you, it seems.” His eyes drop down to your mouth.

“No, I didn’t,” he confirms, raising a hand up and skimming his thumb along your lower lip. “But now I’ve got a whole year to practice.

Bradley brings both hands to cup your face. His eyes traveling from your eyes to your nose to your mouth, a soft smile on his face as he leans in to kiss you.

When his lips meet yours it’s like time stops. You can’t hear the music over the rushing in your ears or the beating of your heart. In that moment, all there is only Bradley.

There’s no hesitation in the way his mouth moves against yours. Or in the way his teeth grazes your lower lip, right before he follows it with his tongue. It’s as if he has played this moment in his head so many times before.

Like there was never a question in his mind about if it was ever going to happen, but when.

There’s a surety in his touch, in the way he cradles your face in his big hands, in the way he angles your head just right.

The way Bradley kisses you makes you feel like this is the moment he’s been waiting for the whole night.

That it’s the moment he’s been waiting the last four months for.

His kiss is sweet like cinnamon and you know you’ll never be the same now that you’ve had a taste of it.

Your first one of the year. And it belongs to Bradley Bradshaw. Just as you always hoped it would be.

He pulls away just enough to skim his lips teasingly against yours. “Happy New Year, Bee.”

“Happy New Year, Bradley.”

You grin and he dips back down to kiss you again.

Time ticks on, but this time there isn’t a countdown. Only his mouth against yours and your arms wrapped around his neck.

After a while, he pulls away again, looking entirely and thoroughly kissed. It’s a good look for him.

He smiles at you. “My mom used to believe in ‘beginning as you mean to go on’. Taking time on the first of a new year and doing something that you want to make a part of your year going forward,” he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “So if you’re up for it, honey, I’d like to take you out to breakfast at that 24-hour diner. Because I mean to go on with you this year and the next one after that if I’m lucky.”

“I’d like that,” you say, taking a snapshot of this moment and the way those warm, brown eyes are gazing at you. “Just as long as we leave some time for mine. I have an idea of how I’d like to ‘begin as I mean to go on’.”

“Yeah? What did you have in mind?”

You don’t answer, instead you just lean in close until you feel his smile pressed against your.

The two of you eventually lock up for the night, for good this time. But only after Bradley finally stops kissing you long enough to grab that cork he’d shot across the bar earlier, pretending not to see the way he tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket.

He takes your hand in his warm one, his fingers slipping easily between yours like he’s done it hundreds of times before.

The sunrise is still a couple of hours away, but you can see the promise of dawn and all the possibilities it’ll bring.

Bradley turns his head back to look at you and grins, it’s wide enough that the corners of his eyes crinkle.

A new day, a new year.

And you can’t help but think that this really will be the best one yet.

Happy 2025, tgm friends! I hope this is your year! Thank you for reading!

And a big thank you to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse) for all the support and encouragement and general woogirling over Bradley Bradshaw!

If you want to know what song Bradley played for Bee 🥰

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[charliemwrites]

Part 1

Finally finished this! I think I put way too much pressure on myself to get this just right and it gave me some major writer's block. Anyway, please enjoy!

Content: Wet dreams, Somnophilia (sort of), Identity Porn, Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy (through dreams), Uncomfortable Situation, Pushy/Predatory behavior (brief)

“Bad dreams again?”

Drowsy and sluggish, you blink at your aunt. She’s as sleek and coiffed as always, pressed business attire and shiny hair. Shoulders back, spine straight. A woman people respect and heed without question.

Your mother’s voice whispers in your ear, that lovingly patronizing tone. See how professional she looks, dear? Isn’t that nice?

It’s not Aunt Katie’s fault though. She does look professional, and it is nice. It suits her.

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “They’re not bad, really. Just… intense.”

She hums, elegant fingers tracing the edge of your borrowed desk. “They can’t be very good if they’re keeping you up.”

You’re tired enough that you almost correct her a second time. The problem is that the dreams are too good. You wake up panting, sweating, halfway to – well. You’re not about to discuss the finer points of a kinky wet dream with your CIA aunt. Besides, it’s silly to get so defensive of something that affects you seemingly negatively.

“Maybe,” you reply, rubbing at your heavy eyes. It feels like you’re trying to look through clear jelly.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Aunt Kate suggests.

You frown, a pang of guilt striking your empty tummy. “No… no, I’m okay. It’s not even lunch yet.”

She smiles at you. The same fond smile she’s always graced you with, on holidays and birthdays, whenever she could escape the secretive walls and red tape to be with family.

“You’re already ahead on paperwork. You’re not a bad employee for getting a little sun.”

Your eyes flick longingly to the door.

Apparently, the government doesn’t believe in things like windows or sunlight. Your little desk is at the very end of a long, half-empty hallway in the middle of a concrete cube and drowning in awful blue fluorescence. You can’t even bring yourself to drag a plant to this crappy little island because you’d feel too guilty putting it through this.

“Okay… maybe just for a few minutes,” you allow.

Her smile widens as she nods for you to follow. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out. I think the dogs will be free for some enrichment.”

Well, that certainly gets you out of your squeaky office chair.

Honey sunlight drizzles over your neck and shoulders, dripping syrupy-slow down your spine. It diffuses through your chest, chasing away the artificial chill of the office. The sleepy haze retreats like frost melting from glass.

You sigh into the fresh air, ignoring the tang of gunpowder lingering on the breeze, and turn your face to the sun. Summer is coming to an end, the heat broken into mellower warmth. There won’t be many days like this left before autumn bites down and shakes the leaves from the trees. A shame you’ll likely waste most of them in your administrative prison. 

The dogs stretch out in the grass around you, tongues lolling and eyes bright, keeping you company. A furry bouquet of black and tan in the manicured grass, their ears and tails like stalks to strange plants.

You bury your fingers in Zeus’s coat and get a fuzzy white tummy for your efforts. He’s a young and handsome thing, the newest addition to the K-9 unit, still a bit fluffy around the ears. You try not to think of how that will fade and harden, just like the older dogs in the unit, just like his human counterparts. Just scratch at that itchy spot by his ribs and smile when his hindleg kicks.

Friga stands and stretches on your right side, leaning her shoulder into yours. Then picks her way around the others to sniff at Zeus. Offended by her interruption, he flails onto his stomach and nips at her, one big forepaw thumping the ground.

She goads him into playtime, and you watch with the older pack members as they begin to romp. They tumble and grumble around you, heedless of bumping into any of the others. You laugh, bright and loud—

The back of your neck tingles.

You glance around, not even sure why. Until you see a figure across the field. He’s standing by the track where about two dozen men are jogging. Recruits, you guess. But he’s not observing them or barking orders. No, he’s clearly turned to face you. It’s too far to make out any features, apart from what seems to be an unusual haircut.

You quickly glance away, surreptitiously trying to determine if the man’s attention was on something else that happened to be in your direction. But there’s little else but you and the dogs in this field, the kennels noticeably off to the left.

Then again, someone sitting in the grass with half the K-9 unit is a bit unusual. He’s probably trying to decide if it’s something that needs investigation. You hope it’s not.

Still, you can’t shake the discomfiting sense that he’s looking at you.

You ignore him until it’s time for the dogs to go back - but that prickly feeling of being watched never subsides.

That night, in the guest room of your aunts’ house, the dreams take on new life.

It starts as it always does. A dark room. A lush bed. Silky sheets. Moonlight seeping through blinds like smoke. And him.

He’s behind you. A broad body so solid you’d think he was a wall if not for the heat. It’s so intense this time, like a wildfire raging out of control, crawling from his skin beneath yours. You sense more than feel the big hand around your jaw. Rough fingers clutch at the plush of your thigh. Hot breath fans across the back of your neck, rippling shivers down your spine.

There’s a voice in your ear. No words you can discern, just a thunder-deep rumble with smoky edges. Stubble scrapes the delicate skin of your neck and catches in your hair.

A thick, heavy cock is buried deep inside you, kissing the entrance to your womb. Your pussy twinges a sweet-sharp ache with each deliberate grind of his hips. He’s spreading you open to get as deep as he can, throbbing balls pressed up tight to your sopping entrance.

Your own hands are all but useless. One twists desperately in the sheets, the other clutches at the meaty swell of his ass. Pleasure upends anything like sense or thought, even hazy dream logic. There is just this man fucking you like he owns you, two of his fingers in your drooling mouth, petting your tongue. A ring clicks against your teeth.

“Found you,” he whispers.

You jolt, eyes flying open. The powder blue ceiling of your borrowed room greets you. You’ve kicked the cotton sheets into a tangled mess around your ankles, tiny shirt ridden up your chest. Your panties are soaked.

The taste of metal lingers behind your incisors.

It’s a busy day. For once, you’re free from the confines of your sad little nook. Aunt Kate must have taken pity on your sorry state the day before and has procured busy work. Files that need hand delivery, or physical reports for you to gather. You don’t care if it’s just something to get you out of the office, you relish the stolen moments outside between buildings.

If there’s a downside, it’s the glances you attract. Everything about you projects civilian, despite the access card prominently pinned to the lapel of your blazer. It draws curious once-overs at best and suspicious scans at worst – or speculative appreciation at the very worst. Every time a fresh-faced recruit or overly decorated middle-aged man lingers as you pass, you hear your mother’s voice again.

Don’t you know what those military men are like? Practically animals. I couldn’t possibly let you be exposed to them.

It’s long ingrained to keep your eyes forward, head level, and try to keep your hips from swaying as much as possible. You’re grateful for whatever bit of paperwork you can clutch to your chest, just to hide your figure and have something to do with your hands.

You’re picking up some personnel files from the infirmary, smile brightly at the receptionist as she passes them over. Mallory is only a couple years older than you, and she’s been working here a year already.

“Lunch in the mess today?” she asks, spinning a pen between her fingers.

“As if you even need to ask,” you tease. “Noon?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

She blows you a kiss as you leave, counting the number of files to be sure you have them all. Your eyes skim over one of the names, a white label on the folder fin. “MacTavish, J.” in blocky typewriter font. You shuffle them back into a neat stack and pivot for Aunt Kate’s office.

You’re not in the moonlit bedroom this time. A half-moon grins down from a starry sky, wearing smoky nebulas for lipstick. Beneath you lays cool grass and soft earth, rich and loamy in your heaving lungs. Petals blooming in the dark kiss your overheated skin, little relief for the burn in your veins.

The change in scenery is almost as dizzying as the man between your thighs. Almost.

But it’s not the dew-saturated breeze that muddles your bewildered thoughts. It’s the hot, wet, clever tongue lavishing your drenched pussy. He licks in broad stripes from your aching hole to your throbbing clit, only ever pausing to indulge a slow suck to the bundle of nerves, before resuming that hypnotic circuit.

One thigh is hooked over a wide shoulder, your heel dug into the flexing muscles of a broad back. The other is spread by a big, calloused hand, giving him unfettered access to the softest, neediest parts of you.

You mewl desperately, hand darting down to his bobbing head. Your nails scrape shorn stubble, eliciting a gravelly groan that sends electricity up your tingling spine. It’s nothing compared to the growl you earn when your fingers twist into the longer, soft strands at the top.

For the first time, you’re able to voice more than helpless moans and wanton whimpers.

“Please,” you sob softly, “please.”

You feel him smirking, a wicked curl against your fluttering cunt. Then he focuses the tip of that awful, dexterous tongue on your clit, flicking in purposeful little strokes.

M-A-

“S-so close,” you whine, hips twitching. He pins you flat, pace never faltering.

V-I-

You shudder as your pussy clenches and spasms, finally, finally—

You wake with a sharp sound, head spinning. Your orgasm washes away like the tide, leaving disappointment and exhaustion behind. You nearly scream into your pillow as you press your thighs together. Still half asleep, it even feels like you have beard-burn.

You’re in line at the mess with Mallory, listening to her complain about some rude colonel that just had to share his opinion about her acrylics. She does the best impressions, and you’re grinning and laughing as the two of you shuffle through the options. You’re reaching for a scoop of rice when the conversation behind you catches your attention.

“—came in a couple days ago.”

“The whole squad?”

“With Braveheart himself.”

A snort. “You better not let MacTavish hear you say that. He’ll—”

“Helloooo?” You blink at Mallory, who arches her brows and waves a bagel at you. “Want one?”

“Oh, uh… sure, why not,” you answer.

“Atta girl!” she cheers, tossing it in the toaster. “Carbs for days.”

You giggle but can’t help glancing behind you. The two men have already moved on though. Not that it was any of your business – or anything interesting. You’re not sure why that caught your attention. Men are just loud, you suppose, snatching a couple to-go packets of cream cheese.

As you’re leaving the mess, you happen to glance over your shoulder. A pair of sharp blue eyes catch yours from one of the tables. A group of men, just about to sit. Mallory tugs your shirt to keep you from clipping the doorjamb and you hurry after her.

There’s heat at your back. Not from a body this time, but a fire burning low and hot in a hearth. No, the body is in front of you this time, filling up your watery field of vision. Peachy skin and coarse dark hair, an old scar slashing across a sharp hip, miles of lean muscle.

Not that you have much opportunity to ogle with tears blurring your sight. The fat cock bullying the back of your throat makes it hard to do anything but choke. You dig your nails into a thick thigh and pull back, writhing your tongue along a puffy vein as you go. The leaking head rests on your drenched tongue as you catch your breath. Smoke and leather and musk saturate your lungs, cloud your empty head.

He smells so good; you don’t even like cigars.

A rough thumb caresses your cheek, a silent request for you to continue. You can practically feel the lust-drunk moans vibrating in his chest – so deep, they’re barely audible over the crackling fire.

You hiccup as deep a breath as you can manage and swallow him down again. He’s silky on your tongue, you sigh softly through your nose as the blunt head flirts with your gag reflex. You slacken your jaw despite the ache already crawling into the joint. Even then, your teeth scrape the base a bit, but that only makes him twitch against your soft palate.

“Look here, love.”

Your lashes flutter as you try to focus your gaze, scrolling your eyes up his body. Most of the details are lost either in the haze of desire or the vagary of dreams, but the blue eyes that greet you are sharper than real life.

You jolt back to consciousness with a dry cough, the scent of him still haunting your senses. You stumble to the restroom for water. Don’t even realize that you’re glancing in the mirror over your shoulder, expecting someone to be there, until you realize you’re alone.

Oddly bereft, you trudge back to bed and try to focus on the clean soap smell of your aunts’ detergent.

In moments like this, it’s hard not to blame yourself.

Not because you’ve done anything wrong, or even feel like you have. It’s because the situation is so frustratingly out of your control that it’s almost easier to tell yourself that one decision or another would have avoided this outcome. A sharper response, a frown instead of a smile, a different walking route.

(There’s also your mother’s voice, always. Saying to be smart, to pay attention, to not “put yourself” in a vulnerable position. You silence that voice viciously this time.)

Still, the fact of the matter is, there’s no personal choice you could have made to keep Corporal Callahan from cornering you in this supply closet. You just wanted a box of tissues.

“Look, I know you’re Agent Laswell’s niece, but I don’t see why we can’t go out because of it,” he reasons. As if that’s the reason you’ve been trying to gently dissuade his attempts.

“It’s not that—” you begin, shifting. He’s standing too close, but you refuse to back yourself any deeper into this tiny space. The doorway is right there, he’s just taking up all of it.

“Then just say yes,” he chuckles. His tone is all smooth and easy, meant to be charming maybe? “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking.”

Except you’re not asking, you think with helpless frustration. The sharp words get trapped behind your teeth, cutting up the roof of your mouth. Your heart is beating so hard and loud you can barely hear his “romantic” overtures.

“I’m not really…” You’re not even sure what to say this time; you’ve already told him you’re not looking to date. He’d said some vaguely predatory line about changing your mind.

In the absence of a finished statement, Callahan takes the opportunity to continue cajoling.

“C’mon,” he sing-songs, “I’m not letting you out of there until you say yes.”

You pry your jaw open, about to agree to it just for the sake of getting free. Deal with the fallout later.

There’s a rush of air and suddenly the doorway is empty. You briefly see Callahan against the opposite wall, face blank in unpleasant surprise. Then a big body blocks your view of him. Broad, bunched shoulders and thick thighs. A shock of brunet hair shaved close at the sides and long at the top. Your entire body locks up.

“You come near her again, they won’ stop findin’ pieces of ya, aye?” A growl, low and rough, Scottish accent thick. You shiver.

Callahan stutters something, a few garbled syllables through a strained and winded voice. You think you might hear “captain” in there somewhere. The bigger man shifts, you hear a muffled thump – Callahan hitting the wall again, you think. Then, with seemingly no effort, your savior tosses Callahan to the side like trash. He stumbles, catches himself.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid.”

Callahan flicks one last frightened glance your way then hurries off, proverbial tail tucked between his scrawny legs. You don’t even watch him go, eyes glued to the stranger’s muscular back. He rolls his wide shoulders, cracks his neck, and finally turns.

Familiar blue eyes pin you in place as he steps closer. The scent of cigar smoke and leather teases your nose.

A voice you’ve known for months rumbles in his chest. “Found you.”

Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 ( 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧 .)

         ⊹ ࣪ ˖ your family sends you to spend the summer at your uncle’s ranch to disconnect before you start college. the last thing you anticipate is to fall in love with one of the cattle wranglers, a quiet yet vibrant farmhand named megan 'the kid' skiendiel.

         ˎˊ˗  🌾  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  🔓୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ pairing: cowboy! megan skiendiel x f!reader

          ➴ genre + wc: 9k, modern cowboy!au, city girl falls for country girl, megan is soooo bf in this, slow burn, explores themes of grief, friends to lovers, slice of life, small town vibes, fluff, heavy angst.

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: 𝗢𝗦𝗧: golden hour - kacey mustgraves. ♫ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜: featherstone - the paper kites. ♩ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜: feathered indians - tyler childers. ♫ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜𝗜: frances - role model. ♩ 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗦: harvest moon (spotify version) - lord huron. ♫

         ┈─★ a/n: i wanted to try something different and idk where i got the cowboy inspo from, but it was a blast to write. i strongly recommend listening to the music inspo as it helped me get into the small town folksy mood. hope you guys enjoy!

  cw:// farm life = mentions of animals getting injured but nothing graphic and no deaths i promise!! implied underaged drinking, some suggestiveness.

three months on the family ranch, and then you never have to hear about it again as you whisk away to college. your grandpa had never believed in the importance of education, and this was his requirement before he agreed to pay for your tuition to the very impressive university you had managed to get into. you’re annoyed that instead of partying it up with your friends, you’re spending the summer in the middle of nowhere, montana, on a ranch in the side of a mountain where the nearest town is 1 hour away and barely even has a walmart. 

“you’ve grown since we last saw you,” your uncle beams, stepping out of the beat up pickup truck to pick you up from the airport. it’s a 6 hour drive from the airport to the ranch, and you feel yourself tune him out immediately as you count down the days to your freedom.

you lull in and out of sleep on the car ride there, your uncle switching between chatting your ear off and stretches of silence. 

“there’s wifi, and cable, but it’s shit when the storms roll over so don’t get your hopes up. oh, and the water’s cold sometimes, you just gotta kick the heater downstairs. if that don’t do it, meg’s got quite the head for fixing up the old pipes, just give her a yell,” he tells you at the end of the painfully long car drive, finally seeing the farmhouse come into view. 

you can’t deny the rustic charm of the old ranch house, a fully wooden two-story lodge with sprawling tall windows and a cozy porch wrapped around the front. a forest of pine trees surrounds the area, and past the line of trees, you can see the sprawling plains as far as your eyes can follow, knowing that’s where your family’s business lies in the pastures, a centuries old heritage of cattle ranching.

“the farmhands sleep downstairs, but you’ll be upstairs in the old guest room. you shouldn’t be bothered by them unless you run into each other getting some midnight snack,” your uncle tells you, hauling your luggage inside.

you thank him for his help and lug your suitcase upstairs, feeling the creak of the wood floors beneath your feet. 

quickly, someone passes by you on the stairs, grabbing the handle of your suitcase and swinging it up and over their shoulder in one easy motion. you gasp in surprise— your uncle isn’t that old, but the suitcase is still pretty heavy, and–

“that’s the kid for you,” your uncle interrupts your thoughts. “somehow always one step ahead ready to help.”

“don’t mention it,” the girl says simply, nodding her head at you with an awkward smile. she lugs the suitcase up the rest of the steps and leaves it by your door.

just as quickly as she came in, she’s gone, a flash of ruddy hair through the front door.

-

you try to connect to the wifi, and your uncle is clueless with the password. old pete is no good, which leaves your aunt and megan. your aunt doesn’t even try before offering up megan, who takes your phone and types in the password quickly and unceremoniously.

“thank you,” you tell her.

“don’t mention it,” she nods, and you wonder if the girl has literally any other vocabulary at her disposal.

the first few days are the hardest, getting used to the noises and the creaks and living with so many other people that are up at all hours of the night, tending to the ranch. you never realized how much goes into keeping it running so smoothly.

your uncle sings praises of his team one morning over breakfast, after megan managed to fix the fridge and save everyone a trip into the city to lug a new one.

“a cowboy’s gotta be tough as nails and strong as steel, and megan’s worth her weight in gold,” your uncle tells you, waving a fork in your face.

“not a cowboy,” megan says back simply, eyes fixed down on her meal. her tone implies they’ve had this conversation before.

“what are you then?” you ask. you like hearing something out of her mouth other than a dismissal or silence with a blank stare,

“he hired me as a wrangler.” she explains, nodding over at your uncle. 

“needed a new cattle wrangler after ole pete had his first stroke,” your aunt chimes in.

megan nods, picking at her scrambled eggs. “i somehow ended up becoming fence repairman, dog trainer, outdoor plumber–”

“all comes together to be one helluva cowboy,” your uncle jumps in. megan shoots him another look– respectfully in disagreement. you like how she toes that line. 

“so if you’re not a cowboy, then what are you, just a girl who likes to get dirty?” you question

“something like that,” she says, and you see her finally crack a smile. she excuses herself, washes off her plate, and grabs a faded denim jacket by the door, slipping into the brisk morning air.

she’s still smiling when you see her head to the stables. you consider it a win.

-

you try spending time in different spots on the property, but the sprawling acres and lack of navigational skills make it extremely intimidating. you follow the sound of running water and find yourself at a small river, ending in a pond. you settle on the grass by the edge of the water, trying to read the book.

you hear the whoosh of something falling into the water, and realize you aren’t alone.

the farmhand is across from you, back turned, skipping stones into the pond. you watch her next throw skip four, five, six times across the surface of the water before sinking in.

“hey,” you greet, making yourself known.

she turns with wide eyes, clearly not aware she had company. “sorry, am i bothering you?”

“no, stay,” you wave for her to continue. “you were here first.”

you two sit in silence, you reading, her skipping stones, until she breaks the silence first.

“you ever swam in a creek?” 

“no. have you?”

“i grew up on an island,” she shares, kicking a rock away with the toe of her boot. “water all round me.”

“so you can swim?”

“you can’t?” she laughs back.

she rolls her jeans up to her ankles and takes off her boots and socks before she wades a few steps in, leaning over to rinse her face in the running water as well. you can’t stop staring.

“so what now?” you ask, feeling stupid as soon as the words leave her mouth.

“i can tell you’re not used to just taking it slow,” she tells you, and you laugh at the realization that she’s right. “we just sun bathe and listen for brucey.”

bruce, the huge white shepherd that looks more like a polar bear than a dog. you look around and realize he’s nowhere to be found.

“he’s around, sniffing for anything that shouldn’t be here,” she reassures you, as if she can sense your confusion. 

she notices the book you’re holding, and points.

“will you read it to me?” she asks shyly, squinting as the sun hits her eyes.

“you like old classics?”

“your voice is nice. it might convince me.”

you give her a quick look over, and begin to read off the page. she stays across from you, but lays to fold her hands on her lap, kicking her feet up against a rock.

the two of you lay like that, you reading to her, until the sun goes down, and you walk to the lodge together as the sun sets. you check it off in your head. another day done with.

-

you fill your time with reading, studying, and after the pond day, seeking out megan.

you find her up against one of the posts, playing a beat up ukelele in front of a handful of the cattle.

“your guitar shrunk, cowboy,” you joke, pointing to the instrument.

“it helps me when i get homesick,” she smiles, before motioning to the cattle that have gathered near her. “i think the girls like it.”

“looks goofy,” you laugh, taking out your phone to capture the moment. “island girl playing her ukelele for the cows.”

she notices you take the photo, and motions out to the wooded area. “gets prettier when the lightning bugs come out.”

“i bet.”

you don’t ask if it’s okay, but you pull your book out from your back pocket and settle by her feet, sitting on the bottom most post. you get halfway through your book, and she starts to mumble-hum, the cows approaching even closer. 

some of them kneel to take a rest at your guys’ feet, just close enough for you to reach. megan keeps playing, keeps singing, and the birds almost seem to echo her. maybe this is what people mean when they talk about slowing down. you read at her feet as she makes beautiful music until the sun goes down, and you let her drive you back home on the ATV.

-

“i think tilla-girl’s smarter, but meg’s got a soft spot for the old one,” your uncle tells you, pointing out the window as he talks about the farm dogs. you watch as megan is playing her ukelele on the porch, laying with her head propped up on bruce’s stomach, the two seeming more than content with life just with the other’s presence. “nobody else her age works on this damn side of the mountain so she’s gone crazy and started talkin’ to the dog.”

you smile. 

“i’m glad she’s got you, at least,” your uncle adds. “i think you’ll make mighty fine friends.”

you peer out the window and catch megan’s gaze as she looks back at you. she looks away, and you swear you see her cheeks flush. you smile.

“i think so too.”

-

summertimes in the mountain means hot days and freezing nights. something you have to learn when you’re off with megan fixing up one of the old fence posts on the west side of the property and feel a chill as the sun starts to drop.

“it gets cold as fuck out here,” you comment, feeling your teeth chatter.

“i like it.” she replies simply, eyes fixed on twisting the wire up to tighten the fence.  “it was hot year round where i grew up.”

“you keep talking about an island,” you note. “hawaii? how did you end up here?”

“i was running from something. not sure what. kept taking seasonal jobs until i found one that i really liked, here on the ranch.”

“and you stayed?” you question.

“i think i’m made for small towns. not much to do, but not much to worry about.” she purses her lips. “it’s simple.”

“you’re a long way from home.”

“so are you, city girl.” the beat up denim jacket falls off her shoulders with a quick shrug, and in an instant, she’s draping it over your shoulders. the warm wool lining instantly stops your shivering body. 

before you can protest, she’s offering a hand out to you from on top of the horse. you can fight the jacket, or you can fight her helping you up, but you’re not quick enough to fight her on both.

you take her hand, calloused yet soft, and let yourself get hoisted up. 

you ride in silence– well, partial silence, as megan’s hums fill the air, and let yourself breathe a little deeper.

you’ll say it’s the mountain air you’re trying to take in. you’ll say nothing of how you’re taking in the clean scent of pine and campfire smoke radiating off megan’s jacket.

-

“what do you do for fun?” you ask, handing her a screwdriver as she slides back underneath the lifted truck. you hear her grunt, metal clanging, before she stretches her hand back out and motions to the rag. you hand it to her quickly.

“when i’m done working, i'll climb trees, ride on the trail, swim in the creek.” she lists them off casually, sliding back out and wiping her hands on her jeans to get the engine oil off her fingers. “get drunk and piss off your uncle. talk to the girls.”

the girls. you love knowing this is her nickname for the cattle.

“how often do you go to the town? i’m getting bored,” you tell her.

“maybe twice a week? an hour drive isn’t something to take lightly,” she tells you, almost sternly. she glances over at you, and you see her demeanor change. “i’ll take you once this damn engine is running back up.”

“what do you do there?”

“buy some beers, dance a little, maybe shoot pool. i’ll go to the rodeo if it’s in town. maybe get dinner at the diner if i’m feeling extra special.”

she slips back underneath the truck and tinkers about. you feel yourself grow curious.

“no dates?”

the noises stop, and there’s a brief pause, but she’s back to clanging in no time and slides back out, handing you the keys and motioning for you to get into the driver’s seat.

“not interested,” she wrinkles her nose. “too busy. crank the engine for me, would you?”

“too busy drinking and talking to the dog?” you tease, doing as she says. the truck’s engine sputters and then roars to life, and megan grins proudly at the feat. 

“see, now you’re gettin’ it,” she grins, before leaning over to wipe a glob of grease directly across your cheek. 

you scream and try your best to rub it off with your shirt sleeve, only smearing it further and now making a mess of your sleeve. megan doubles over in laugher, and you kick the car out of park and into drive, threatening loudly to run her down where she stands.

both your laugher combines into a melody that sings over the chirps of the birds. you’ll realize soon enough that the sound quickly becomes one of megan’s favorites. 

-

“hey city girl,” she greets offering you a high five. 

you’re suspicious. a month with megan is enough to know that the whole quiet thing is just a front. 

you eye her, but tolerate the hi-five. her other hand comes up quickly to wrap around your arm, and she takes two giant leaps back as if to get a running head start.

a giant, fat junebug clings to your wrist. you let out a scream and try to shake it off of you.

“megan, i’m going to kill you.”

she shrieks laughing, picking the bug back up from the ground and chasing behind you with it. you’ll fight her off with a stick if you have to. bruce and tilla start barking, clearly just riled up by all your antics, and you two get lost in your own little world until the sun falls.

-

“i hate country music,” you groan, exhausted yet again by your uncle’s insistence on playing the best of blake shelton throughout the house.

“me too,” megan wrinkles her nose.

“really?”

she nods, flashing her phone at you, connected to her headset. you see the album cover of a john mayer song. 

“more of a bluegrass girl myself,” she says, setting up the table for lunch.

“oh, those are basically the same thing,” you roll your eyes, assembling the silverware.

“‘bout as different as boot cut vs skinny jeans,” she teases.

“that’s not a half bad comparison,” you compliment her. “you’ve actually got something up in that brain of yours besides horseshoes and cow patties.”

“now you just sound like a stereotype,” she laughs, making a grossed out face.

“okay,” you balk. “sorry i don’t know shit about the modern cowboy archetype or whatever.”

she laughs and takes a beat, before helping you set up the plates for your aunt to start serving. “i’m going to the rodeo today. you can sit with me if you want to come.”

“the rodeo? what am i, eight?” you laugh.

“eight, eighteen, same difference. it’s your call city girl,” she sing-songs.  “i’m taking the truck at 5 on the dot. rodeo starts at 7 and i’m not gonna be late.”

she disappears after lunch, and you keep an eye on your watch. against your initial judgement, 4:55 you’re in the passenger’s seat, and megan pops into the drivers seat at 4:59 on the dot.

“hey city girl,” she beams, clearly pleased to see you.

“hi cowgirl,” you tease back, and the two of you chat mindlessly for the hour-long drive into town.

she buys you a beer as soon as you guys get into the arena, and you have a feeling this is the entirety of the town’s population. you’ve seen more people at a college football game, and yet the energy makes you feel so, so comfortable. megan leads you down to your seats and you’re mesmerized by the barrel racing, the hog chases, the lamb wrangling, all of it.

(or maybe, you’re mesmerized by how big megan is smiling, watching it all like a kid with bright eyes.)

there’s something mumbled over the speaker, and she hands you her drink to hold. “stay right here. i’m gonna be right back.”

you nod, figuring she means the bathroom.

only to feel your heart pound when you hear the announcement of “time to hold on for your life, amateurs!” pounds over the system. oh god.

they introduce the bull, a stocky red they simply call “crusher,” and then you see the lineup of denim-toting townies that are lined up behind the pen. one by one, they get announced, they try to hold on, and they get kicked off in seconds, the roar of the screaming crowd deafening you as you stand up to get a better view.

in the cow shute, mounting the titanic beast, is a ginger-haired girl that looks a little too comfortable tucking her cowboy hat snugly onto her head. the announcer bellows from above you.

“ladies and gentlemen, the returning record holder, the tough as nails, megan ‘the kid’ skiendiel!”

“no way,” you breathe quietly, grabbing onto the railings to get a better look.

the shute opens, and “crusher” comes flying out, megan tossing an arm behind her to maintain her balance. he kicks and buckles in a desperate attempt to get her off, but megan stays steady, rocking into each kick and leaning into the bucks to avoid the whiplash.

you gasp in awe as she makes it longer and longer, eventually tapping out when he yanks sideways and sends her swinging into a nearby barrel. the derby clowns run out to redirect her, and megan makes sure to snatch her hat up from the dirt before leaping back up over the fencing. 

you sprint over to her side of the fence, adrenaline pounding.

“d’ya see me?” she beams as soon as she spots you approaching, climbing back over to the rafters. she’s breathing heavily, and the smile on her face breaks briefly as she stretches out her back. “damn, that hurt.”

“why would you do that?” you all but shriek, in complete disbelief. she looks around and points out the neighbors, the grocery store clerks, the police officers, all the familiar faces you’ve gotten used to, all cheering her on.

“not much else to do for fun around here,” she laughs, and you laugh with her, wondering what else megan hides beneath her surface.

-

two days after the rodeo is the first time she smokes around you, and you realize this girl might just have a death wish over her head.

“hasn’t anyone told you those are bad for you?” you wrinkle your nose, watching her take out another malboro from the brightly colored pack that she tucks back into her front shirt pocket.

“plenty of times,” she chuckles, kicking her feet up as you two hang out on the roof of the lodge, just outside your window. 

you give her a disgusted face and kick at her boot.

“quit them,” you say.

she holds the unlit cigarette between her teeth, eyeing you cautiously. your eyes hold each other’s gaze for much longer than either of you would admit. and then, in one simple motion, she takes the un-lit cigarette and flicks it between her fingers, sending it diving down off the roof.

“as you wish.”

“you’re gonna go get that, no littering,” you warn her, narrowing your eyes at her.

“of course i am,” she smiles, tipping her hat down in front of her eyes, and you start reading the next chapter of your book out loud.

-

you’re caught off guard at the next dinner time when you see megan folding up a few miscellaneous supplies and tucking them inside a duffel bag. you peek outside the window and see one of the horses saddled up, another bag already hanging off his back.

“why are you packing?” you question. you haven’t seen this before in your time on the ranch yet.

“bruce and tilla keep coming back the past few days looking like they fought something. i think something’s getting to the calves.” megan’s serious, but doesn’t sound anxious. she sounds calm, focused, like she knows what comes next.

“so…?” you ask. “that means…?”

“just gonna go spend a night in the fields, with the girls,” she tells you. “keep an eye out overnight.”

you feel your stomach sink at the thought of her outside overnight.

“no way megan. whatever’s getting the cows could get you,” you say worriedly.

“i’ve got two giant dogs and a flare. i’ll be okay,” she reassures you, a smile on her face. 

“you can’t go by yourself.” you shake your head, not understanding how your uncle could ever let her do something like this. “that’s so dangerous.”

“i’ve done it a million times before, and your aunt and uncle and ole’ petey have to stay to watch literally everything else,” she laughs. “i’ll be okay, y/n. it’s a quick ride back.”

“at least take an ATV.”

megan shakes her head. “the motor spooks the girls. horses keep them calm.”

you can’t shake the fear that grips you.

“let me come with you,” you blurt.

“you hate the fields,” megan laughs.

“show me what’s so good about them,” you push. 

she looks like she’s about to shut you down again, but you reach to grab her arm before she can deny you. you give her a pleading look, and she eyes you up and down. she’s silent, contemplating.

“you won’t get your own tent,” she finally warns.

“that’s fine.” you feel your heart settle, even slightly, but you’re still in shock at the whole ordeal. “he really lets you do this by yourself?”

“you say it like he’s my dad.”

“does he?” you press.

“y/n, he pays me for this kind of stuff. that’s the whole point of being a farmhand or a wrangler or a cowboy, or whatever. it’s what i’m good at,” megan laughs. “go pack a bag. i’ll go get you your own horse.”

-

admittedly, the trek to the fields was extremely easy when all you have to do is just sit and hold onto a horse without falling off. the dogs follow at your footsteps, and megan has your horse led by hers, so it’s almost like taking an uber into the middle of the woods and emerging on the side of a mountain at sunset. she checks a few things on her phone, before leading your little troop onto a grassy hill overseeing the nearby herd.

you dismount, and she ties up the horses and moves to unpack the supplies first.

“no campfire?” you ask, looking out at the sunset and knowing the temperatures will drop soon. you’re grateful she insisted you take one of her spare coats.

“not yet,” she tells you. “we have to pick a spot with less grass. summertime means fire hazards.”

she’s so careful about the fields. you admire it, how she cares about maintaining the balance. you can see why your uncle trusts her so much. everything is in good hands when megan, steadfast, hardworking megan, is around.

you watch as she expertly sets up the small tent, the rocks to contain the fire, and scans around for a handful of fallen twigs. she sharpens her knife against the denim of her worn blue jeans and offers it to you along with a perfectly shiny apple. you take it, and enjoy the silence of the birds, the crickets, your crunches, and the flick of her firestarter catching flame to the tinder. you enjoy the silence together, letting the sun fall and disappear into another evening.

the full moon against the flickering campfire is nothing short of beautiful. she pulls her phone out of her pocket and plays her old john mayer playlist: melancholy, bluesy, and so, so peaceful against the hum of the crickets and owls behind you both. she cracks open a beer, and the two of you share it as the fire only roars bigger and louder.

megan’s swaying her head along to a song, and before you can stop yourself, you’re standing up and reaching for her hand. you pull her up, and you dance there together, spinning beneath the moonlight and the stars. stars never sparkle quite this bright where you’re from.

(or maybe, they just don’t sparkle this bright without megan’s beautiful dark eyes to twinkle into.)

you’re holding hands, still swaying, but keeping a respectable amount of space between the two of you. you feel brave, and snake your arms to wrap around her neck. she gives you a look, but accepts the gesture, holding her beer can to the side while her free hand stays respectfully around your upper back.

“what are you going to do after this?” you ask, looking into her eyes as you continue to sway to the faint music.

“maybe do one more night, just to be sure,” she hums.

“i meant when you’re done with the ranch.”

“oh.” her voice rustles. “i don’t know, actually. i love the ranch.”

“could anything get you to leave?” you ask, a curious prod into something more.

megan’s eyes meet yours, and they’re widening with something unfamiliar as they search your face. her hand stretches out, fingers taking up the space in the small of your back, and you feel her ever so gently pull you closer.

“maybe,” she says, a quiet contemplation, but she doesn’t elaborate.

“hm,” you muse simply.

“could anything get you to stay?” she asks quietly. her hands, ever calm, ever strong, are shaky now, reaching for you in the dim moonlight.

“maybe,” you answer simply, reaching back for her, and it’s enough for megan to take over for the rest.

-

her hands are still shaky seeking you out in the dark of the tent, but you find it so, so beautiful how your movements are illuminated by the moon and the campfire. she’s laid you down against the sleeping bag, her kisses wanting and eager against your neck. you guide her hands towards the buttons of your shirt, then reach for the buckle of her belt eagerly.

she breaks from her kisses against your neck to let out a strained sigh into your ear, hovering above you. her fingers hesitate to undo your button.

“i don’t, um, i don’t do this often,” she breathes, looking down as you’ve undone her belt buckle and reach for her zipper.

“that’s okay,” you reassure her, stopping your movements, reaching instead to cup her face in your hand. you smile, realizing you’re staring at more than you could have ever dreamed of wanting. “just means you’ll remember me more.”

she smiles, eyes scanning over you, before she musters up the confidence to start undoing your buttons with one hand much too easily, slipping past them and reaching now for the zipper on your own jeans. you feel your body shudder with anticipation as she presses a tender kiss into the crease of your jaw.

“i’ll have a hard time ever forgetting you, y/n,” she hums into your neck, before your clothes are long forgotten, and lose yourselves into the song of the crickets and the roaring fire.

-

maybe you’re starting to like this small town.

you build a routine. 

the two of you ride into town on friday mornings, your feet kicked up on the dash of the old pickup truck as she sings along to songs on the radio and you can’t stop admiring her beautiful face as she does so. her voice is soft, angelic, and the way she holds the steering wheel with one hand so she can interlace your fingers with the other makes your heart thud.

she buys you a lollipop at the corner store and you savor the crisp mountain air mixing with the sweet artificial cherry in your nose. she strolls behind you through the aisles of the gas station, a case of beers over her shoulder and a bag of sunflower seeds in her free hand. you look back and her eyes are always fixed on you, a smile each time you look at her. you wonder if you’ll ever need anything else.

you run your errands together and she never lets you touch a single door, never lets you lift a finger, never lets your hands get dirty picking up another bag of feed or a treat for bruce.

the sunshine beats down on your face, and she’s placing her hat on your head. you’re pretty sure you remember something about this being an old cowboy courting ritual, but you lose the question somewhere in the back of your mind each time megan slips and calls you “pretty girl” instead of “city girl.”

darla at the corner store eyes the two of you questioningly. she scans the beers, the candy, the snacks, and instinctively reaches for a pack of malboros. megan shakes her head, motioning for the old woman to put them back.

“since when’d you quit the smokes?” the woman questions, arching a faded brow.

“since god sent me a better reason than just old folks not likin’ the smell,” megan quips back quickly, grinning as she forks over an exact change in cash and pivots to pull you along.

you feel your heart thud in your chest and you follow her into the truck. you start to think you might just follow her anywhere if she asked.

-

“early risers now, the two of you! i barely hear y/n come down the stairs any more,” your uncle beams gleefully.

you and megan share a knowing glance as she fries up another egg for you. it’s been probably a week since you’ve stopped sleeping in your own bed, and started sleeping in hers. you don’t think it makes a difference to correct him, so you don’t. 

(you wonder if it’s too obvious that you’re wearing her flannel and she’s wearing your t shirt, but your uncle is too clueless to notice anyways.)

when he’s not looking, you press a kiss into the back of megan’s neck as she focuses over the stove. she shoots you a look, her beautiful brown eyes taking you in, and hands you a plate. 

the two of you take your food outside and eat side by side on the porch, and thoughts of “forever” foolishly fill your head. you don’t push them away.

-

“bullseye,” she grins, shooting another tin can off the fence with her bb gun.

“nice shot, john wayne,” you tease, your legs swinging from your spot sitting on the truck as you look up from your journal.

megan puts down the bb gun and pretends to take an arrow out of an imaginary quiver, and motions as if she’s shooting the arrow at you.

“did i stick you?” she asks, motioning to her pretend bow.

“your aim’s off,” you tease, squinting at her. “little more to the left.”

she tries again, exaggerating her movements this time, and you laugh.

“i didn’t take you as the hunting type,” you tell her.

“cupid let me borrow a few,” she says, jumping up to stand on the tire of the truck and reach up to kiss you.

“oh, yeah?” you hum against her lips.

“mhm.”

“you’d love video games,” you smile, wrapping your arms around her shoulders as she looks up at you. “they’d rot your brain.”

“not much up there left to rot,” she jokes. “i’m like a walking miracle.”

“all those cigarettes and beers,” you tease.

“not even. d’you forget what i do for a living? i’ve been kicked in the head, trampled, all the good stuff.”

“and yet you survived it all.”

“i must have known something good was coming,” she says simply, taking your hand in hers and kissing your knuckles.

your chest aches, and you realize you might’ve lied. her aim was dead on, from the first stupid cupid’s bow.

-

your birthday marks halfway through the summertime, splitting july right down the middle. 

it’s small, just the few of you on the ranch, a cake baked by a neighbor and fireworks.

megan, sweet, silly megan, has had one too many beers, and you love the way her little whisker dimples deepen with every exaggerated laugh you two share. 

tilla barks like a madman, bruce simply asleep under the table as the hours sink into the night, the bullfrogs from the neighboring creek adding to the cricket’s cacophony for the soundtrack to your evening. 

everyone else goes to bed, leaving just you and the ginger to celebrate under the glow of the porchlight.

“make a wish,” she tells you, holding up the candle to your face.

“done,” you grin, blowing it out away from her. 

“good. now come here, pretty girl,” she coos, pulling you to come drop into her lap as she sits in the rocking chair. you laugh and wrap your arms around her neck. “so fuckin’ pretty, how was i ever supposed to say no to you?”

“you weren’t,” you beam, batting your lashes up at her playfully as her hands roam across the soft skin of your thighs. you had worn your nicest dress for the occasion, and megan was struggling to keep her hands to herself. you loved the feeling, her strong hands, calloused from the hard labor she was never afraid of doing, yet soft enough to leave you with goosebumps after every touch.

“was that the plan this whole time?” she questions, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, up to your jaw, and whispering soothingly into your ear. “just s’posed to come and shake up my whole life?”

“can’t believe i didn’t know someone like you existed,” you breathe, taking her in.

“walking dirt magnet?” she arches a brow playfully.

“kind, strong, steadfast.” you tell her, admiring every feature on her face: those full lips, the dimpled cheeks, the creases by her smiling eyes, the round button nose.  “you make the world feel like a safe place.”

“i’d take care of you forever, if you let me,” she assures you. “happy birthday, pretty girl.”

(you won’t admit that it feels like a confession, and your birthday wish has practically come true. a promise of the future with this girl.)

you feel a warmth in your chest as you whisk her away to your bedroom for the rest of the night. you both ignore what this means for the time you’ve got left.

-

“so you’ve done wyoming, idaho, now montana.” you list the states on your fingers. “where to next?”

you’re skipping stones at the pond, megan’s tongue poking out of her mouth as she works to try and snatch up a frog from the riverbed.

“wherever i can hide,” she says simply.

“what are you running from?” you ask, and it’s the first time you’ve ever approached the topic. you hesitate, but knowing megan has never been unkind about redirecting you, you simply suggest the goofiest things you can think of. “toxic ex? debt collectors coming for your kidney? embarrassing viral video?”

she stops, standing up straight, and wipes at her forehead with the back of her wrist. you can tell she’s debating something within her. her eyes don’t come up to meet you, but her body seems to hunch in resignation.

“dead mom,” she says simply.

“oh.” you feel your heart lurch. “megan.”

“that’s the first time i’ve said it out loud,” she admits, rinsing her hands off in the running water before taking her hat off to run her hand through her hair. she starts towards the truck, and you follow.

“i’m so sorry,” you tell her, and you wish there was a manual for what to say to people in times like this.

“it was two years ago. i just upped and left. my dad has been trying to get into contact with me about my inheritance, but i just don’t want to think about any of it.” her confession feels like it connects a million pieces, answers a thousand questions you have had of her, but all you want to do is comfort her as you see the toll it takes on her to loop you in. “sorry i don’t talk about it. hurts too much.”

“megan,” you tell her softly, your heart aching.

“no, you don’t have to be all sad. it’s perfect that i’m telling you. i feel ready.” she nods good-naturedly, hopping into the bed of the truck where the blanket is spread out. she drops with a thud and gets comfortable, before smiling up at you. “god she would have loved you, like fuckin’ crazy.”

“i bet i would have loved her too,” you tell her back gently, following to come sit next to her in the truck bed. you pause, reaching out to play with her fingertips, looking out at how she has her long legs splayed out straight in front of her. you come up with an audacious suggestion, one you won’t deny has been on your mind. “you should come to school with me.”

“no way,” she immediately recoils, wrinkling her nose. “i’m not a bookie. plus i’m way too old to be starting college right now.”

“you are absolutely not too old,” you balk. “plenty of people take a gap year or two. you’re so good and you know so much– about agriculture, about electricity, about the environment. i’ll have my grandad pay for your tuition or whatever. my family loves you, they’d be happy to. then maybe you can buy the ranch or something, and we can–”

“it’s not the money,” she shakes her head. she bites down at her fingernail– a bad habit she picked up since quitting smoking. “sorry y/n, i just i don’t want to stop.”

you can hear her implication. stopping means thinking, and thinking about anything else would hurt. you wish you could take her pain away from her.

“i won’t push you,” you tell her gently, pulling her finger away from her mouth and kissing it instead. “but i think you’d be amazing.”

“i don’t want this to end,” she says after a beat, and you can read it in her eyes.

“don’t think about that right now,” you murmur to her, reaching for her cheek to turn and capture her lips with yours. 

-

t minus one week until you leave. neither of you mention it.

you feel her stir and get out of bed much too early one morning, before the sun is even across the horizon in the window. you hear a faint whine, the creak of the wood as megan steps about, the shuffle of her boots slipping on over her feet. she steps outside the door, and you hear her return a few moments later, moving faster, footsteps louder. “baby,” you mumble groggily, reaching out to her. “come back to bed, please.”

“it’s bruce,” megan says, her voice gravelly, and her tone is enough to wake you fully and get you to sit up in the bed. her face is stony, eyebrows knitting together. “something real ugly got to him.”

you blink a few times to get your bearings, checking your phone to see that it’s barely past 1 am. you nod, getting up and reaching for her denim jacket to throw over your hoodie. “okay, let’s take him to the vet.”

“it um, doesn’t work like that,” she sniffs, and you can see her eyes watering. “vet lives two towns away, only comes into our town for clinic stuff on thursdays. y/n, he looks bad. i don’t feel good about it.”

“tomorrow— today is thursday. so we stay with him, then.” your heart aches for bruce, but even more so for megan, facing the reality of losing her best friend. you see the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, and you can’t imagine what this is bringing up for her. you nod self-assuredly, the plan coming to you as you speak it, reaching for her hand. “we’ll take turns, meg. we’ll apply pressure, keep him warm, keep talking to him. we’ll leave at 5 and be there an hour early before the clinic even opens. it’s going to be okay.”

her eyes finally come up to meet yours, and she nods. 

you two work in shifts to do exactly that, tend to the old dog. he does admittedly look worse for wear, but you take turns speaking to him calmly and keeping him wrapped in the warmest clean blankets you can find. the first hour passes, and you reassure megan that she’s better off resting than she is trying to push through the whole night, considering she’ll have to be the one to drive them an hour to get to town.

“i did a quick scope out of the nearest pasture. this crazy old bastard killed a fuckin’ wolf and didn’t let him get to any of the girls,” megan says proudly, before letting herself drift off. you kiss her forehead and then lay a kiss onto bruce’s head, beginning to recite the lyrics to whatever stupid song you can think of, just to keep the air from going quiet.

it’s almost morning, and megan wakes refreshed and ready. you’re in awe of how she’s able to lift the massive dog into the backseat of the truck with little strain. she calls out something to your aunt and uncle before getting in the drivers seat, the early morning fog illuminated by the headlights as the truck roars to life. she reassures you that you’re okay to fall asleep, and she drapes a blanket over your lap. 

your eyes are closed for at least 3 songs, and you feel yourself about to drift asleep, before you hear megan’s tone change, and hear her whisper quietly to the dog.

“i know dude, i know. she’s a good one,” she sighs, reaching into the back seat to pet his head. “stick around a little longer so you can sniff out if she’s gonna break my heart or not, would ya?”

megan reaches for your hand, still assuming you’re asleep, and holds it for the whole hour long drive into town. 

the vet, sensing the panic in megan’s voice as she carries this ginormous dog towards him in her own two arms, offers to see bruce as soon as you guys get there, a half an hour before the clinic is supposed to open.

you fall asleep with your head on megan’s shoulder as you wait through his surgery, and she doesn’t wake you.

“he’s lucky to have you two,” the vet tells you two hours later, smiling as he hands you the leash to a wobbly but stable white dog. “most owners start to freak out and end up fighting when things get hard.”

“she’s a good one,” you say quickly, motioning to megan, and she says nothing as she kneels down to hug the groggy old creature. 

she then reaches up to grip your face in both hands, pressing a searing kiss to your lips, expressing every bit of gratitude she can muster. 

you wrap your arms around her waist and kiss her, and kiss her and kiss her, while the town still sleeps. you wonder if there’s a way to live in this moment for the rest of your life. 

-

the night before you leave, your uncle throws you a small send-off dinner. you and megan hold hands under the table the entire time.

she takes you to the pond, through the fields on a horseback ride, back and around what feels like the whole property as you savor the last day you have together.

whether it’s adrenaline or nerves, sleep can’t find you that night. megan is holding you, and you’re trying desperately to memorize the curves of her body and the feeling of her hands over you.

“meg,” you whisper quietly, and you feel her bare chest rise and fall against the skin of your back.

“hm?” she pulls you in tighter, clearly not struggling with sleep like you are.

you let out a quiet sigh, bringing her hand up to your lips to kiss her calloused fingertips.

“i think i fell in love with you,” you whisper, half-confession, half-stating the obvious.

megan merely grunts in her sleep, wrapping her arms tighter around you.

“go back to sleep, pretty girl,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

“whatever, cowboy,” you roll your eyes, trying to pull away from her grip, but it’s no use. she’s much too strong, and as it turns out, more awake than you thought.

“i’ll write you letters, while you’re gone. and you’ll write back to me,” she hums into your neck, and you feel your heart swell with how soft and sweet her voice is as she whispers these sweet nothings. her fingertips brush along your hips, along your spine, tracing the expanse of your skin as if she knows it’s just for her. “i’ll tell bruce and tilla all about what you’re getting up to, while you’re off being brilliant.”

“yeah?” you smile, turning back to try and get a look at her sweet, beautiful face.

she presses her cheek into yours, planting a kiss against your jaw. “i’ll start smoking again though. so you gotta come back soon.”

“smoking’s so bad for you,” you tell her back weakly, her warm embrace drifting you back into your slumber.

“so is being without my pretty girl,” she quips back easily, pulling you in closer. she presses another kiss behind your ear. “i love you too. come back soon.”

-

the two of you wake up at the crack of dawn to make the most of the morning before noon, when your uncle is supposed to start the journey to take you back home.

megan steals the truck to drive around the property and helps you wish goodbye to all the animals and trees you had so impossibly fallen in love with, just as easily as you had fallen in love with megan. 

she picks you flowers and pine needles to press in between the pages of your favorite book and she mentions something about a scrapbook you two should start together. you sneak a quickie in the back of the truck and laugh when your teeth clank together from how eager you both are to get your hands on each other. 

the last half hour before you head back home. you see something in megan’s eyes as she’s driving you guys back from the edge of the property to the lodge, her jaw going hard as you ramble about how the semester is going to look for you.

“we have five weeks for winter break, so i can spend that here, or you can come spend it with me in the city,” you tell her, going through the schedule on your phone. “i only have like three days for thanksgiving, so that might not be worth it unless if you come out first, but spring break i’ve got a whole week off, so i can leave the thursday before and be here by friday so we get the full week together. then, another summer. i think we can do it.”

you expect your cowboy to say something back, probably some dumb joke, or maybe even just a hum of approval, but you’re left waiting. megan says nothing, which she hasn’t done since you two first met.

“hello, earth to cowboy?” you tease, waving a hand in front of her face as she pulls the truck into the garage.

she puts it in park, and turns to face you, grabbing your hand out of the air and gently pulling it down. your heart sinks when she doesn’t hold onto it. 

she lets out a shaky breath, looking over you once more, before her eyes harden and her gaze drops to something off in the distance.

“don’t come back.” 

you feel a punch to the gut– megan’s voice is cold, too detached. this isn’t the warm farmer girl you’re in love with, this isn’t your megan.

“what?” you blink, wondering if it’s just a joke that landed wrong. you reach for her hand. “don’t say that.”

you feel your heart shatter as she pushes your hand away, shaking her head. she won’t bring herself to look at you.

“stay focused, get good grades, get a cool job,” she tells you, turning now to face the steering wheel instead of facing you. “don’t throw your life away thinking about me, trying to squeeze me in. you’re so special, y/n.”

“i wouldn’t be distracted. we can make it work, long distance isn’t that hard,” you push, feeling the hot tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes. 

“i loved you, while you were here,” she breathes quietly, a deep sigh leaving her chest. 

you shake your head, your body trembling from the unexpected pivot in her demeanor. it feels like a bad dream. 

“what the fuck, megan?” you barely manage.

“it’s be better that you go.” she wrinkles her nose. she sounds confused by her own words, and you keep pushing in the hopes that she’ll take it all back and apologize in no time.

“you don’t care?” you question, feeling the first drops of your tears come down your cheeks. “that’s it?”

“i care enough to not hold you back.” she pushes back, jaw hardening. “i was never going to be permanent to you. i’m just happy i could say you were mine.”

“no, you meant everything to me, megan,” you argue, reaching to cup her hand in both of yours. you reach over to grab her hand, not giving her the option to pull away this time. “don’t you think we stood a chance?”

“a small one, maybe.” she smiles sadly. “just not this time.”

you shake your head and let go of her hand, trying to wrack your brain for how to fix this. 

“okay, forget school, sorry i suggested it and freaked you out. you could move to a bigger city, and start bull riding professionally, you’re so good at it–”

“y/n,” she cuts you off firmly, but her voice has the slightest tremble to it. “that’s not what i want for my life. and it’s not what i want for yours. go share that light with the world.”

“is this because it hurts?” you question, finally leaning back, your back pressing against the passenger side door as you try to put space in between the two of you. it feels like a stranger has hijacked her body and now, you’re suffocated being around her. “your whole thing, where something bad happens and you run away from it. is this like that? it hurts to keep saying goodbye for a little bit?”

“maybe,” she shrugs weakly, her brows furrowing. you see something like anger take over her features– a first. “what, are you analyzing me now?”

“no, but i feel like a fucking idiot,” you bite back. you reach up to try and wipe the tears from your eyes before they drop, feeling pathetic as she simply watches you. “why the fuck did you let me fall in love with you if you knew you weren’t going to be able to handle saying goodbye?”

“i didn’t know,” she says softly, and you want to scream.

“yes you did,” you push back, pointing a finger accusingly in her direction. “you did you know that, you knew it was just the summer.”

“no,” she says gently, and you feel yourself go wobbly at how easy it is for her calm voice to soften you. “i didn’t know, about the falling in love. i couldn’t have ever predicted that.”

there’s a thud in the back of the truck, and you spot your uncle and old pete working together to swing your suitcase into the back of the pickup bed. you wipe quickly at your eyes to erase any evidence of this, wishing it was as easy to undo the knot in your stomach.

“y’all girls will be in touch, i’m sure of it,” your uncle says, seeing your proximity, much too chipper and not possibly able to read any further into the situation. “no need to cry that much over it, i swear!”

“we won’t be in touch,” you say sharply, and megan grabs her hat off the dashboard and pulls it onto her head, the brim covering her eyes.

“fine by me,” she bites back, before her tone softens in the slightest. she unlocks the car door, and you can both feel it. it’s the real goodbye.

she turns to step out of the door, before looking once over her shoulder. the hat obscures half her face, and you can barely bring yourself to look at her, but you can hear her voice, so gentle despite all the damage she’s just done. 

“i really did love you,” she adds.

“bullshit,” you spit, and you feel the tears coming on again. your heart feels like it’s being ripped from the crevices of your chest. “fuck you, megan.”

you see her jaw harden, and you turn away, unable to look any more without the risk of breaking into sobs. the door swings open, you hear the shuffle of two pairs of boots, and your uncle is quickly taking up the drivers seat. the engine roars back up to life, rumbling through your chest.

“cheer up, y/n,” he chirps. “the kid ain’t goin’ nowhere. you’ll see her soon enough.”

you stare up at the ceiling of the stupid truck and try to blink back the onslaught of continued sobs that threaten to break out of you. your uncle pulls the truck out of the garage, and you feel sick to your stomach as you guys start to move out of the driveway. 

on the porch, your aunt and old pete wave goodbye to you with beaming grins. tilla lays peacefully at their feet.

behind them, the rusty-haired wrangler, holding bruce by the collar as he barks incessantly, trying to pull away from her to chase after the truck. the hat obscures her face, but you see her look up and wipe at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. 

you burst into tears as the ranch starts to fade out of view in the rear view mirror. you cry everything out, and your uncle doesn’t try to chat you up the whole way there, letting you instead fall asleep to the hum of old country classics on the radio.

you hate the way you miss megan’s voice already. you swear off country music for the rest of your life.

-

you still feel the void in your stomach even when you’re finally back home. you wonder what it’ll take to stop dreaming of ginger hair and the smell of pine trees.

“how was your summer? i feel like we barely heard from you,” sophia asks eagerly, the two of you heading up to your dorm on move-in day. “how was your family’s ranch?”

“please do share, how was that?” lara grins, eager to get the details. “do anything fun over there? i’ve never been to a farm.”

you blink back the tears threatening to spill over and hope they don’t notice.

well, i was super bored until met this girl, and she was so perfect, and she’s a cowboy who rides horses and loves her dog and quit smoking just for me, and she rides bulls and fixes anything that breaks and plays me songs, and of course i fell in love with her, and it’s ironic ‘cause she’s supposed to be able to fix anything on that ranch and yet i got my heart broken into a million tiny pieces…

“i’m glad it’s over,” you shake your head, realizing that your summer has to be nothing but a memory for it to start to fade. “never going back to that hell-hole again.”

you get to the dorm, sophia lights a candle and heads into the shower, and you take all the pressed flowers hidden in the pages of your book and let them get eaten up by the flame, one by one. 

you get to the last page of your book, wanting to make sure you didn’t miss a pine needle by accident, and find that megan had scribbled something at the very bottom, after the print of the story says “THE END,” dated the day after your birthday.

fell in love with you reading this book to me. can’t wait for you to read it to me again. love you, pretty girl. – your cowboy

you rip the page out of the book and let it get lost to the flame. with it, you let every thought you’ve ever had of megan skeindiel— every secret she told you, every touch you shared, every picture of a perfect, peaceful future together— sink to the bottom of your heart, and bury it in gravel.

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Kyoya's reluctant day out!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: Kyoya get's dragged out to the mall ➼ what to expect:  "'i'm so screwed' you whisper to yourself." ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part Sixteen | Part Eighteen

""Hey Kyoya, I have just had the most brilliant idea!"

When Kyoya finally becomes aware he is very confused to find himself in what appears to be an outlet mall. "How did I wind up here? I was sleeping comfortably in my own bed just a few minutes ago...no, wait...Tamaki was carrying on about some sort of exhibit. He had his heart set on all of us going, I think."

"Doesn't it sound fascinating? They're called 'expos' that's commoner lingo for 'exposition' products from all over the world are gathered under one roof so that underprivilaged people can cope with the emptiness of not being able to travel. That makes this the perfect oppotunity to better understand Haruhi, by allowing the host club to study commoners in their natural environment. You guessed it Kyoya, we're going on a field trip! Haruhi won't be joining us today, incidentally, as her presence might harm our credibility as impartial observers"

Kyoya glared at him from the bed, not happy to be woken up at all. "Oh come on, you can't just lie here in bed all morning! Today's the last day of summer vacation!"

Kyoya groans and sits up in bed "For your information, I was up until 5am you morons, which if you hadn't notice, makes me less than happy about being woken up" The host club backed up, shivering "Kyo-chan isn't much of a morning person huh?" Asked honey.

"You have nor room to talk"

"Hey what does that mean?"

"Okay enough with the commoner shtick, if you formulaic halfwits feel like wasting all afternoon on worn out old cliches go right ahead and suit yourselves" he falls back against the bed, almost immediately falling back asleep.

"Well, if that's what you want...you heard the man! Now lets dress him to the nines and head for the expo!"

"Oh right, that's how...it looks like I'm at the Izumi shopping centre, which isn't exactly within walking distance of home. Guess I'll call to have a car sent out" Kyoya reaches into his pocket which is when he realised that he has no phone or wallet on him.

A small boy runs into him "Wow sorry....uhhh mama!" he runs off. "Tamaki's a dead man when I get my hands on him"

"Kyoya-senpai?"

"Huh?" Kyoya looks to his left to find you and Haruhi, both staring at him confused by his presence, clearly in the middle of shopping. "I didn't expect to see you here today" you raise an eyebrow, knowing that this really is not his scene.

"How much money do you two have on you?"

You and Haruhi exchange glances "What?"

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Kyoya's Reluctant day out!

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"Kyoya-senpai, are you sure this is where you want to eat?" You ask, confused and concerned that he may be ill since normally kyoya would never been seen in a place like the fast food joint you were all currently stood in.

"There are much nicer resturants to choose from upstairs"

"Well you two don't have much on you so our choices are limited, just be sure to get a reciept, tamaki will reimburse you tenfold" He muttered, Haruhi clearly not being incredibly thrilled.

"Let me guess, he dragged you out of bed to do something even though you were up till five am?" you ask, haruhi hums in question "You can't possibly know that-"

"Yes he did" Kyoya grumbles, haruhi turns to you in question "I knew he had a business call over seas" You shrug

"Haruhi I think it's our turn, how do i order?"

"Oh, uh, here, i'll order for us, do you know what you want?"

"You pick, just get lots of it"

"I'll just get a cheeseburger"

Haruhi nods, turning to the cashier "Well okay, that and that one, both with fries, and a cheeseburger please"

"Okay coming right up, would you be interested in adding one of our delicious desserts?"

"Thank you, no, I don't care for sweets"

"Before you decide we have this new shake thats absolutely-" "I have given you my answer"

you sigh, quietly apologising to the cashier as you take the food to a nearby table. "Kyoya-senpai just beacuase you're in a bad mood today doesn't give you the right to go around talking to people like that"

"Poor girl was just trying to do her job"

Kyoya picks up his burger "Her job is to serve us food, not irritate me with some weak sales pitch" You make it an internal point never to pull kyoya out of bed unceramoniously if this grouchy mood is a result.

"What now?" you realise that Haruhi has been staring at him "I just don't think i've actually seen you eat before. Somehow I thought the experience would more refined" You raise an eyebrow as someone who has actually dined with kyoya before.

"That would imply that Kyoya would allow himself indulgence, that's more Tamaki's thing"

"Or yours"

"I just cook when I miss my home food, besides there is no shame in finding small joys once in a while"

"I'm just surprised food like this even appeals to you"

"It doesn't appeal to me in the slightest, no doubt you'll say I'm callous for admitting it, since you bought this tripe. There is an understanding between makers of food like this and those who eat it. Quality takes a backseat to convenience, refinement isn't part of the equation. It's meant to be eaten quickly, besides no one of consequence is here to witness my momentary lapse of manners"

You and haruhi don't reply, silently sipping your sodas refraining from commenting "Hey, for the record i'm saying it benefits me nothing to keep up appearances in a place like this"

Three girls approach you, or more specifically Kyoya. "Um excuse me, i'm so sorry to interrupt, if you're not using this chair can my friends and i borrow it?"

"Why not" Kyoya doesn't even look up, speaking through a sigh. "Thank you so much thats awesome!" you squint in confusion as you watch the three girls being far too gleeful at being allowed to borrow a chair. "You're quite welcome"

"You're probably wondering how Tamaki and I complement eachother so well, the answer is simple, I have something to gain. There is no better motivator than self interest. I have to look out for number one you know"

The explanation from Kyoya certainly was not squashing your doubt.

"Tamaki-senpai would be heartbroken if he heard you say that" Haruhi chimes in.

"Not really" you reply

"On the contrary he's understood our arrangement from the very beginning, the same goes for all of us. Kaoru-senpai, hikaru-senpai, Honey-senpai, Mori-Senpai, y/n. The glue that holds the host club together is out mutual egocentricity, its the principle that drives the alliance between our families and ensures each of our futures. Well, let's just say there's still quite a bit you don't know about that "

Haruhi turns to you "What do you have to gain from being apart of the host club?"

"My situation....is a bit more complicated"

"Although tamaki is a fool, and self sacrifice does come naturally to him. So I guess the point of this is, we are very different creatures"

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"Y/n senpai?"

Kyoya had walked ahead, looking through the stalls of the products expo, leaving you and Haruhi to talk. "Hm?"

"How do you and Kyoya...."

"Huh?"

"It is very clear that Kyoya senpai does not care for anyone but himself, how do you....have such a good relationship with him?.... Is it a relationship? because it's clear that there's something going on with you two "

your jaw hangs open for a second as you try to pull together the words for such an answer. "Is it that clear?"

Haruhi looks at you unimpressed "Y/n-senpai the only time I see him display any emotion at all it is towards you, you're always sat together at the club....you may hide it well enough that the rest of the school don't know but the club is convinced that the two of you are dating"

"Well...I won't lie and say that we don't have our faults but....in truth I think its because that we have an understanding of one another...."

You look at Kyoya, who is up ahead unaware of the conversation taking place "We've never really had the conversation of whether what we have is romantic, I don't think we really need one....it's just that after all this time it has become routine for us. I know that Kyoya is self-serving, I always have...but at the end of the day so am I. And within our self serving we know we need each other, which is why we look out for each other..."

You shrug "We aren't really the type for loud romantic gestures, that has always been Tamaki's thing. I don't really need the term 'dating' or 'girlfriend' because I don't think that is every what we will have or even want. There is just....us. I know it's a strange thing to understand but our way of flirting is basically scheming"

Haruhi shoots you a strange look "You've started to sound like him"

You raise an eyebrow "Have i?"

"I must admit y/n-senpai, I never have thought of you as a 'schemer' in the same way I do Kyoya senpai"

You desperately avoid laughing, if only she knew what the two of you had been up to. "That is because Kyoya and I are perceived differently. We always will be, no one trusts a calculated woman. And I need people to trust me to get where I want to. The truth is Kyoya and I are more alike than you may think, but I can afford to show more compassion because that is expected of me"

Haruhi hums "I suppose that makes sense"

You catch up with Kyoya "Black pearls from Ishigaki Island?" you note "odd to find them here given how much they go for" Kyoya adds. "You're kidding. Really? That's incredible. How can you tell?"

"We are products of excellent breeding"

"So, Kyoya-senpai, why is it that after all this time, I still know next to nothing about your family?"

The two of you pause although Haruhi didn't seem to pick up on it.

"Because there's really nothing for you to know about my family, at least nothing that should be of interest to you"

"Well, that seems to be a little bit unfair, don't you think?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean that when it comes to my personal life, you even keep tabs on who my father's friends from work are, while I barely have a clue about yours. So I call that unfair."

"That's a very intriguing notion, in it's own way"

"You've got two older brothers right? For starters, you could tell me something about them? What kind of people are they "

"Oh no" you whisper

"They are rather exceptional. Enough so, that my father puts a lot of stock in them. Though as the third son, things work out a little differently for me"

"I didn't realise there was so much pressure on you to succeed."

"Pressure? Oh no Haruhi, i can think of nothing more fun than this"

"It is as I said Haruhi, we thrive under the notion of scheming" you smirk.

Haruhi sighs, worn out at the idea. "When did you say this?" Kyoya raises an eyebrow, you can tell he is mildly concerned about the idea of you exposing your plans. "Don't worry about it"

"Dear me, pieces from the komatsu shoin collection. I never thought that I would find them here." you look over to an older woman at one of the stalls.

"Why madam you have an astonishing eye"

Kyoya squints at the scene before him "um...senpai"

"You know they have such an exquisite colour, don't they? To tell you the truth, I'm not really supposed to have these out on display . The bulk of the komatsu collection has been privately held for ages. Pieces rarely come up for sale"

You roll your eyes, the man was really laying it on thick. He's worse than kyoya during club hours. The woman fawns over the pieces.

Kyoya approaches the stall. "With all due respect, these are fake"

"Huh?"

"Hey, get out of here kid. What do you think you're doing?"

"The shade of blue is strongly reminiscent of shoin's work but looking closely around the base, you'll notice the colour graduation isn't quite dark enough to be authentic. That and the lacquer is too clear."

"That's enough of you, Mr. expert, i'll report you for obstructing my business"

Kyoya flips around the bowl to look at the base "Just as I thought, the brushstrokes on this seal are uncharacteristically broad as well. For your sake I hope you have a certificate, that is if you insist it's real"

The man starts to sweat "Of course it's real! I have the certificate at home!"

"Ah, the surely you won't mind if I call the komatsu family right now to verify your claim. My own family has had dealings with them for generations. It would only be a matter of minutes"

The man eventually gets escorted out, you shake your head with a slight smile on your face, for a man who likes to lay low Kyoya certainly has a flare for the dramatic.

"After everything you told me senpai, stepping in on a complete stranger's behalf seems a little out of character for you" Haruhi says.

"Hmm? Oh, that? Well now, she's hardly a stranger. You mean you don't know? Her husband is the CEO of a major electronics company. This is my first time meeting her personally but that ring on her left hand is unmistakable. My family has dealing's with her husbands family"

The woman walks over "Ah, one of the Ootori boys, and f/n's daughter as well, imagine running into you both incognito, the next opportunity I have, I'll be sure to take advantage of one of your famil's beautiful health resorts"

"We'd be honored"

A nearby stall catches Kyoya's attention "Hey haruhi did you know this?"

"Did I know what?"

"Is melon the preferred flavour among snack makers? It doesn't make sense, if the primary ingredient is corn, why go through the trouble of artificially making it taste like fruit?" the two of you laugh.

"That's an intriguing notion in it's own way"

"Oh was I being funny?"

"Earlier you were going on and on about how you and Tamaki-senpai are nothing alike, but what you just said then about the candy? It sounds exactly like him!"

"You think so? It does seem like something he nad the twins would fawn over. Very well I'll buy them. Haruhi? your wallet"

you place a hand over haruhi's as she goes to hand over her purse "I'LL buy them, haruhi got lunch"

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The three of you sit at a bench in the mall, taking a break from shopping. "Hey, senpai?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you think that Tamaki-Senpai is always so eager to help people when they're in need?"

"You mean when there's nothing to be gained from it? Who knows?"

"So then when you help someone, how exactly do you benefit from it?"

"The way that I've always seen it Tamaki-senpai get's something more abstract from helping others. He likes to see people happy, one could argue it is because he doesn't like being reminded of certain hardships but it is not my job to psycho analyse him. For us it's...a combination of things, reputation yes, which can lead to connections that possibly make us money but there is something else..." You explain.

"Huh?"

"Attention shoppers, this is an announcement for a lost child. A little boy named Kyoya Ootori is lost inside the store. Repeat Kyoya Ootori is lost. His guardian, Suoh, is waiting for him at the second floor information counter"

"Oh no" you mutter.

"Kyoya is five feet eleven inches tall with black hair, and wearing perscription glasses" everyone around you begin to stare as Kyoya obviously matches the description. "That damn idiot, i'll kill him"

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You and Kyoya are sat in the car on the way back from the mall that evening "I never did ask, how did the meeting go?" you look over to kyoya, but also making sure that the driver cannot hear the two of you.

He smirks "Let's just say that we will be having a lot more early morning meetings in the future"

You smile "I see."

"You may as well drop us both off at the apartments" Kyoya speaks up to the driver, who nods.

Eventually the driver pulls up, dropping the two of you off as you enter the complex. "Do you have any more leads on this mystery between our two families?"

"Quite possibly, I must admit that it was slightly easier than I expected, a cover up can only cover so much" the two of you enter your apartment. "I see"

"But that hasn't been my main focus, finding out what my father is covering up for yours is useless to us at the moment. No one would believe two teenagers regardless our networks as is. So...I have been weeding through the board of directors, finding some weak points. Get enough on board then we can use the l/n media corporation to expose itself and the ootori group both at once" You hum out a laugh, stepping away to get a drink.

"Y/n?" Kyoya grasps your wrist, keeping you from getting too far

"Hm?"

He pauses for a second, but it didn't take long for him to pull you closer and into a kiss. Your body doesn't catch up to your mind for a second, mostly frozen up except for an arm thrown around his shoulder.

As soon as you realise exactly what is happening it ends, him pulling away slightly as he smirks at your reaction. You stare back at him with wide eyes "I..."

He laughs, stepping away. Heading to the fridge to fetch both of your drinks.

While he does so you still stand there, frozen, staring at him. 'i'm so screwed' you whisper to yourself.

Next time on patience 'Chika's 'down with Honey' declaration!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372 @strawberrbitch @reticent-writer @eternal-dokja @meme848 @mistyhydrangeagarden @nanaloverz

[dottydoesstuff]

You make me feel alive (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Based on the song Rio by Duran Duran

can be read as a part of this series or on its own

Idiots in love, mutual pining, light angst, background Jancy, reader is described to wear a bikini.

ps. a game & watch is like the 80s version of a nintendo DS

3.4k words <3

Steve didn't know when his all consuming infatuation with you began. Maybe it had alway been there, the throat tightening, cheek blushing , knee wobbling, soul crushing feeling that only your presence seemed to elicit. But it was getting rather annoying.

Don't get him wrong we wouldn't trade his friendship with you for the world but constantly having to hold himself back from confessing his undying love for you or some other irreversible truth that would surely ruin your friendship was exhausting.

The sun had been beating down on Hawkins unrelentingly for weeks, pushing the small town and its residents to the brink of melting and so to avoid such a fate, plans had been made amongst your group to drive up to lake Michigan.

Steve of course was ​​unwillingly nominated to drive as well as Nancy so the group was split between his BWM and Nancy's moms borrowed station wagon. A fight had ensued that morning when the group was choosing who to ride with, each option having its pros and cons. Steve's car had the better air-con which was a necessary luxury in the Indiana summer but Nancy lets other people pick the music unlike Steve who cites that he's driving so he gets to choose the radio station. Eventually (and after much debate) you, Robin, Eddie and Dustin rode with Steve and everyone else crammed into Nancy's car. 

The drive was only a few hours and the group had set off early to beat the traffic, or had attempted to, but apparently some people (Eddie) needed their beauty sleep. Despite the air-con remaining on full blast, the heat couldn't be ousted causing the road up ahead to become a mirage. However the heat wasn't on the forefront of Steve's mind, instead his focus was pulled toward the hushed conversation taking place between you and Eddie in the backseat. He couldn't make out what either of you were saying but he could hear your quiet giggles and see that due to the lack of space, thanks to Dustin calling shotgun, Eddie and you were sitting very close together. Eddie, ever the gentleman, had taken the middle seat with you and Robin on either side. Robin had zonked out within the first 20 minutes and had monopolised all of her and most of Eddie's seats meaning Eddie was currently crowding your space, not that you seemed to mind, which infuriated steve to no end, not that he could say anything about it because steve wasn't your boyfriend so had no right to comment on the situation however this realisation only infuriated him further.

Thankfully Dustin hadn't noticed Steve's indignation despite him practically having steam shooting from his ears, although Steve could’ve grown a second head and Dustin wouldn't have noticed as he was too busy playing mario bros on his game & watch, which he was surprisingly bad at. 

“Son of a bitch”

Steve turned to see Dustin shoving his game & watch back into his backpack after losing yet again.

“It's probably rigged anyway plus my jump buttons jammed so it’s not even my fault” Dustin sighed in defeat as he slumped back into the seat with his arms crossed.

“Maybe you're just shit” Eddie teased whilst shoving another handful of Doritos into his mouth.

Dustin turned his head to glare at Eddie as you slapped him on the arm.“And since when were you so good a mario munson?” you asked whilst poking him in the chest.

Eddie grabbed your finger as he retorted “since birth, obviously”.

Dustin rolled his eyes “Mario wasn't around in the prehistoric age dickhead”.

Yet another argument ensued. 

The snarky comments and constant touching between you and Eddie bothered Steve then it occurred to him, was Eddie flirting with you? The question bounced around in Steve's head until a much worse realisation overtook it. Were you flirting with Eddie ??? His knuckles turned white with how hard he gripped the steering wheel as jealousy washed over him, he knew he shouldn't have been jealous, you and Eddie were both single and neither of you knew that Steve was hopelessly in love with you … or something less intense to that effect. 

“-and if you think that i'm going to let you even touch my game & watch with your nasty ass Dorito fingers, you're insane” 

“Ugh say it don't spray it” Eddie mumbled as he wiped his cheek with his sleeve.

Steve was still trying to figure out a way to murder Eddie and make it look like an accident when you leaned forward to ask how much longer the trip was. Your gentle smile as you made eye contact with him through the mirror made him forget you even asked him a question until you said “stevie ?”.

He felt his face heat up at the use of the nickname that he claimed he hated. Because he did hate it, when it was used by anyone other than you.

“Uhh probably like another half hour” 

You nodded absentmindedly as you settled back into your seat and pulled a book from your bag.

The half hour passed fairly quickly with the only hiccup being when Eddie and Dustin started arguing yet again because Dustin wouldn't share his nerds which resulted in Eddie trying to snatch the whole pack and spilled them everywhere.

As they approached Porter beach the busier it became, Steve started to wonder if they would ever find somewhere to park. Eventually they found a spot next to a parking meter which wasn't too far from the beach, Steve got out to pay only to realise he had no change. “Oh shit” Steve mumbled while patting his shorts pockets.

“What?” you tilted your head at him as you asked. You were still sitting in the car with the door open rubbing suncream on your legs. Steve had to consciously hold himself back from asking if you wanted him to do it for you, partly because he liked helping you and partly for more selfish reasons. Instead he shook his head as if to physically expel the thought from his mind.

“Do you have any change?” he asked sheepishly. 

“Uhh, oh you know I think I do” you wiped any excess suncream on your top and grabbed your bag to start searching through it.

“How much do you need?” you looked up at him with a smile when you said it. It was subconscious, the way you always smile at Steve when you talk to him, he brings it out in you.

Steve looks down to check the price on the meter “A buck twenty-five” 

“Aha, here you go” you pull the dollar bill and coins out of your purse and hand it to steve. 

Your fingers brushing up against his made you both dizzy. Instead of either of you acknowledging the feeling Steve turned away to put the money in the meter and you finish putting on your suncream and decide it would definitely be safer to ask Robin to do your back because having Steve rub his hands all over your back could be something you never recover from.

As Steve looked around it became apparent that every family in Indiana had had the same idea to visit the lake, hell it looked like every family in the goddamn midwest was currently lying out on their beach towels taking advantage of the sunshine.   

“Looks like we have some competition” Eddie said as he sauntered up beside Steve and slung his arm around his shoulders.

Steve looked at Eddie alarmed, not having realised the boy was talking about space on the beach for them to sit and not competition for your attention. Steve wasn't sure why his mind had jumped straight to you, but it was becoming a common occurrence. 

He saw Nancy and the rest of the group walking toward them as him and Eddie finished pulling all the bags out the trunk. Steve set yours, Robins and his stuff aside from him to carry and called the other two over to get their stuff.

“Jesus we have a lot of shit” Eddie murmured to nobody in particular.

You and Robin were crouched down trying to get all the nerds out of Steve's car as Robin lectured Dustin about having food fights in an enclosed space. You noticed that Steve had slung your bag over his shoulder and so you walked up beside him to knock against his arm as a thank you, the two of you were good at that, communicating without words. Steve always knew what you were thinking, well most of the time he did, you hoped against hope that he had not clued in on your very obvious, very embarrassing crush on him.

“Okay, are we all ready ?” Nancy asked as she effortlessly took on the leader role which she claimed to hate doing but refused to relinquish as no one else met her standards. Steve would argue he could do it as he led a group of preteens through the demodog tunnels with no fatalities but she'd probably argue that letting them go into the tunnels in the first place was incredibly idiotic. 

It took them a good twenty minutes to find a patch of sand that wasn't covered by sun burnt middle aged women or children digging holes. 

You and robin walked arm in arm mostly to stop robin falling due to her perpetual clumsiness. Steve, Eddie and Jonathan were given the heavy stuff, normally you would argue how it was inherently sexist to give the men the heavy things but it was hot out and carrying like a bajillion bags would only make it worse so you decide to cut your losses. The teens all walk in a group behind you, all complaining about the long walk and the sand and how they want to go swimming now and how their bags are heavy. Nancy looks fed up with them already and you can't blame her.

Finally you spot somewhere to set up.

“How about over there?” you asked as you pointed at a relatively shady but most importantly empty space on the beach.

“Oh thank god. I think my arms are about to drop off” Eddie said as he made his way over carrying the cooler with him. 

You paid no attention to Eddie's dramatics as you were admiring a now shirtless Steve. The scattering of moles on his back paired with how his muscles were flexed due to him carrying about 5 peoples bags was mouthwatering. You would have stood there ogling all day had Jonathan not nudged you whilst giving you a knowing smirk. You gave him a shy smile and vowed to blame the heat if anyone asked why your face had gone red whilst running to catch up with the group. 

Once all the blankets were laid and Robin had coerced you into rubbing a thick layer of suncream on her back due to her aptitude for burning you could finally take your shirt off to cool down revealing your bikini underneath. Had you been paying attention you would've seen Steve watching you intently with a slight blush across his face which he, like you, would swear was sunburn. You then would have seen Eddie catch Steves staring and wiggle his eyebrows at him wittingly which caused Steve to have no choice but to throw a handful of sand at him. 

“my HAIR. What the fuck Steve” Eddie gasped as he tried to shake the sand out.

Max and El screamed as Eddie's head shaking covered them with sand.

“Stop, Eddie stop that's not doing anything” you giggled as you reached your hands into his hair to brush out any remaining sand.

“See Steven this is true friendship, right here” he said as he gestured to you.

Steve's jealousy had reached an all time high. He thought seeking his revenge against Eddie would make him feel better however it had backfired ridiculously and though he knew it wasn't Eddie's fault and he had no way of knowing Steve liked you that didn’t mean Steve wanted to strangle him any less. Okay maybe that's a bit dramatic, Eddie was still his friend and all he just wished you were running your fingers through his hair not Eddies. 

“Okay I think that's all of it” you say whilst smiling at Eddie.

“Thanks, I owe ya” he says with a wink.

“If you two are done flirting, can we go swim now ?” Mike mocks.

You blush even harder and Eddie squawks, “I feel sorry for El if you think that was flirting”.

Mike rolls his eyes as Max joins in with taunting him.

“Okay okay, I want all of you to be wearing suncream, to stay near where we are and not to go too deep. Got it?” Nancy gives them all a good long stare as they murmur their agreements. 

Nancy nods her head and they take it as a sign to go. All of them tripping over one another, desperate to swim. Nearly all of them made it to the water without face planting in the sand.

Once all the teens had gone into the water, without missing a beat, robin pulled the cooler in closer. 

“Okay, who wants what? '' she asks while digging around inside “there's beer, cherry ice cream, soda if you’re boring and more beer” she says with a hinting glint in her eye.

“Oh so this is what teachers mean when they talk about peer pressure” you taunt with a grin.

“No no, no pressure at alllll” she says with little to no sincerity.

“Well some of us have to drive you all back” Nancy adds whilst gesturing to herself and Steve.

“Go on Nance you have one. I can drive on the way back” Jonathan offers. 

“No, i-” She considers it for a moment before huffing out a breath. “no it's fine. Someone needs to watch those lot” she says as she nods toward the water where Lucas, Will , Mike and Dustin were trying (and failing) to make a human ladder whilst Max and El played mermaids.

“Nance believe it or not, most of us are somewhat competent” Steve says whilst side eyeing Eddie. 

Eddie looks thoroughly offended before smirking and replying “that's a terrible thing to say Steve I thought she was your best friend” whilst wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pretending to comfort you. 

Steve gives Eddie a sarcastic smile before replying “I meant you dickhead”

Eddie gasps loudly knowing full well Steve had meant him. 

Steve pushes Eddie away from you and drags you into his side whilst wrapping his arm around your back 

“She's the most competent out of all of us”

Now it was Nancy's turn to be offended. But before any eye poking and hair pulling started Jonathan placed a can in Nancy's hand and kissed her cheek. 

“Alright let's get this partay started !” Robin declared before downing half a can of beer then coughing when she inevitably choked. She looked back up at all your bemused faces and said “what? we’re on vacation, live a little you guys” 

“Yeah, yeah come on guys” Eddie agrees as he reaches for his can of beer, downs the whole can and scrunches the metal in his hand then throws the can back into the cooler and finishes with a loud whoop. You and Steve share an amused look and Nancy looks a little frightened.

“I think i'll just stick to sipping” she retorts 

Robin and Eddie start booing until Jonathan throws Eddie's crumpled up can at them. 

You're still glued to Steve's side and would be quite content to stay there for the rest of the afternoon, if not eternity. He reaches into the cooler and grabs a can of beer and a can of soda before opening the beer and handing it to you. You thank him with, in his opinion, a glowing smile which he would like to believe is reserved especially for him. 

The conversation moves on and with the more you drink the more your mind seems to wonder. The afternoon passes by as you're deep in thought, passively adding to the conversation when you feel like it. The teens appear and then disappear sporadically as the hours pass, even Eddie and Jonathan were persuaded to get into the water. As the sun begins to set your mind settles on how warm Steve feels next to you, how nice his hand feels on your waist and how despite the sweltering heat you have no desire to move away from him. He looks over to check on you, smiling as he meets your eye.

“You good?” he asks quietly, his face mere inches from yours.

Before you can reply you feel a hand wrap around your wrist and your body is ripped from steves as you're hauled to your feet by a now very tipsy Robin.

You mourn the comfort and warmth you just lost and look at Steve apologetically. Robin pays no mind and drags you into the open space next to where you’re all sat.

“Dance with meee” her words are slurred and you can't help but think about the killer headache to poor girl will wake up with tomorrow.

“Robs we have no music” you giggle as you place your hands on her arms, half to ‘dance’ with her and half to keep her upright. 

“That never stopped anyone”

You don't quite agree with her statement but go along with it anyway grabbing her hands and jumping in circles with her in the sand. You make sure not to push it as her being sick is the last thing anyone wants. You twist and turn, stumbling in the sand and catching robin numerous times due to her incoordination being heightened by the alcohol.  She spins you in a circle and you feel the effects on the beer you've been sipping, you feel a haze of contentment wash over you as you continue to sway in the setting sun with a look of bliss on your face and Robin goes to find her next victim. 

Steve watches the entire ordeal and thinks that you've never looked more beautiful. Even with a small glob of suncream on your shoulder that you missed when rubbing it in and a sheen of sweat covering your skin, you shine. If he could look at you like this forever he'd be more than content. He damns himself for not bringing a camera but he supposes it wouldn't be able to capture the dazzle in your eye or the sway of your hips. You break from your dancing for a second to turn to Steve and give him the widest most shining smile he'd ever seen, he waved back at you and you stuck your tongue out at him and turned back to dancing as Steve chuckled softly to himself.

“We’re just friends y’know” Eddie's voice pulled Steve from his thoughts as he turned to look at the boy next to him. “I just- look I know you like her and all and I don't want any” Eddie pauses to think of the right thing to say  “...hostility between us. She's great, really great but were just friends”

“What Eddie, I don't-” he laughs awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck “I have no idea what you're talking about.” 

“Steve” 

Eddie meets Steve's eyes with a sad look on his face.

“The way you look at her, the way you were just looking at her. You'd be blind not to notice it”

“Notice what ?” Steve asks in a small voice, already knowing the answer.

“Love”

Steve looks back to where Nancy, you and Robin were all dancing and laughing in the sunset and thinks that maybe the throat tightening, cheek blushing, knee wobbling, soul crushing feeling that only your presence seemed to elicit, was something he couldn't bear to live without. It's like you had reached into his chest and carved your name onto his heart to command it to beat only for you, and the pain it had caused him was glorious. He decided then and there that keeping you by his side was his number one priority, no matter if that meant keeping his feelings to himself as long as you were around he would be okay.

[foreverromanticising]

renegade | ln4

(5) lando wonders who could ever leave him, wondering who would stay by his side?

lando norris x fem!reader | 1.9k words | a still very perfect summer with lando norris

masterlist<3

Three days of your time in Greece had came and went within the blink of an eye; your days had been spent laying by the pool, nights spent in tavernas with Lando and his friends, walks along the beach after dinner with your hand in Lando’s, and every night ended with you and Lando as a mess of limbs and a clash of lips beneath his white sheets. It couldn’t have been any more picture perfect - it wasn’t what you had expected from travelling but you couldn’t have been happier that this was the life that you had stumbled into.

However, as usual, all good things must come to an end. It wasn’t that you wanted to leave Lando, rather quite the opposite, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. So, slowly but surely, you started packing away your things that were scattered around his room; bikini tops that were laid out on his balcony to dry soon moved into your backpack, alongside your makeup that had been sat in his bathroom and your sandals that had sat beside his at the front door then made their way with the rest of your belongings. He hadn’t noticed at first, too busy with your presence and too focused on keeping his hands on you whenever he could to notice that the rings that you kept on his bedside table had vanished.

Until, he stepped out of a shower and headed straight for your citrus scented moisturiser that usually sat on his bathroom counter - that he had grown accustomed to using, unbeknownst to you - though it wasn’t there.

“Baby!” He yelled out from his bathroom, through the closed door and into his bedroom, where he knew you were sat getting ready for your night ahead.

“Yes, Lan?” You didn’t quite yell back at him, just loud enough so he could hear you without disturbing any of his friends.

“Where’s your moisturiser? I love the smell but I can’t find it.” He rummaged through all of his bathroom drawers, hoping it would appear but feeling deflated when he still couldn’t find it.

It may have been frivolous to care this much about a moisturiser but Lando had grown to love the scent; it was summer, days by the beach, dinner under the stars, and you all wrapped up in one scent. It was a memory he wanted to bottle up and keep forever, and this was the one way he could do that but without this, he was feeling lost. Your silence left him reeling, he let a minute pass without you answering but after a second one, he made his way into the bedroom. 

With Calvins slung low on his hips, wet curls sticking to his forehead, and his bare chest glimmered from the tan he had developed over the past few days, he stood at the end of the bed whilst you sat in front of his mirror as you began your makeup. He was a picture that you wanted to burn into your memory, scared that you hadn’t taken as many photos as you should’ve over your time with him. You tried to fight the melancholy mood that threatened to settle over your shoulder, the fear of missing the life you were currently living - nostalgia for the moment you were still in.

But still, you didn’t want to override Lando’s holiday with his friends - what you had with him was fun, but it was temporary.

“Y’alright, pretty?” Lando watched your every move, concentrated with every swipe of the makeup brush over your face but he couldn’t help but notice the crease between your brows, and though it had only been a few days, he knew this was entirely unlike you. Usually, you beamed with joy, no matter what you were doing. “I’m sorry if you’re upset I’ve been stealing your moisturiser, just smells too good - like you - I can’t help it.” He laughed, trying to keep his words light as he couldn’t quite gauge your feelings that he had walked into.

“No, it’s not that, don’t worry - you’ve let me stay here for days now, the least I can do is share my moisturiser.” You shook your head and looked up at him as he’d moved closer towards you, looking at you through the mirror.

“Yeah, so, where is it?” He was beginning to feel nervous, rather uneasy, as he started to noticed that you were avoiding his question.

“In my backpack.” You didn’t mumble the words as such but you kept your voice quiet, not particularly proud that you had been quietly packing away and moving yourself out of Lando’s life.

“What? Why?” Lando laughed but he didn’t find your words the slightest bit funny, a small wave of anxiety washing over him that he was trying to ignore. “Are you- like, I dunno, what, are you leaving?”

“Well, I’ve been here longer than I had ever planned,” You watched as Lando sat down on the ground beside you, matching your level on the ground. “I never even meant to spend that first night and, I mean, it’s your holiday with your friends and I’m still here- I just don’t wanna overstep.” 

“Hey, no, you could never overstep, I want you to be here.” He reached out to stop your moving hand, taking it within his own to calm down the meticulous movements. 

“Lan, the villa is yours, you drive me about in your car, you don’t let me pay for any meals or any coffees, you let me sleep in your bed,” You sighed and let him rake his fingers through your own, hoping he would understand what you were saying without offending him. “I appreciate it more than I could tell you but I don’t wanna overstay, especially after everything you’ve done for me this week.”

“Because I like your company, having you here is more than enough for me.” He knew your words were true, understanding where you were coming from as he hadn’t let you cover as much as a cup of coffee but it was because he wanted to do this for you, rather than because you would ask him to. He enjoyed battling with you for the card machine but he liked winning even more - it was in his blood, after all - so much so he had started leaving his card with a waiter whenever you would step foot in a restaurant.

“And I’ve loved being here, you’re amazing and I’ve had the most fun with you,” You didn’t want Lando to gather the wrong idea, to think that you were trying to run out on him because you could see the worry in his face with the way his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth and you wanted nothing more than to kiss the frown off of his face. “But it’s your holiday with your friends, that I’m sure you worked hard for to be here, and I wasn’t meant to be part of the plan - I was travelling and just ended up here with you. I don’t want your friends to think I’m just using you, or whatever, I dunno.” Your words trailed off into a quieter tone, almost scared to say them out loud in case that would make them come true.

“Baby, what? No, they don’t think that, at all. And even if they did, it’s no reason for you to pack up and leave.” 

“I really don’t want to overstay, we agreed on a couple of nights so I thought I should get ready and go.”

“You’re not overstaying, fuck it, stay the whole week - even next, I don’t care and neither do they,”  Lando knew you had both agreed to a few days together but he was hoping you would forget, that you would let the days bleed into nights and forget a concept as silly as time even existed when you were with him. “Please, don’t ever thinking you could overstep. Not here, not with me.”

“Lando.” You let his name drag out on the tip of your tongue as you dropped your head to hide in his bare chest, refusing to let him see the blush that was spreading like wildfire across your cheeks because of his words.

“C’mon, seriously, I want you here with me. I know what Max has told you so if I really didn’t want you here, I’d let you know.” Lando hadn’t been able to stop the stories that spilled from Max’s lips about his past adventures with girls in the past - how he was maybe a slight playboy that wouldn’t dare spend more than a night with a girl - so he knew you were aware of how different this was for him. 

“How long do you want me here for?” You kept your head in his chest as your bodies moulded together, one of his arms wrapped around your back and his other hand carding through your hair. 

“I mean, we’re here for another two weeks.” His voice had a playful lilt to it though his words held meaning, he wanted you here as long as he could have you beside him.

“You can’t be serious, Lando.” Your head shot up though his hands remained around your back, keeping you as close to him as he could.

“What? You’ll keep me sane around these muppets. God forbid I want some decent company.” Lando leaned in, his forehead resting against yours whilst the tip of his nose brushed against yours, his voice dropping to a quieter volume.

“You have to let me contribute, though,” Your lips hovered over his, your breath mixing with his as you spoke yet he hadn’t dared to seal your lips in a kiss, not yet. “I’m not staying unless you let me pay you back somehow.”

“I can think of a few ways you could pay me back.” And with that, he captured your lips, shutting down any ideas you had of paying him back. 

“No, I’m serious,” Though, he had you distracted for a few moments, you broke away from his kiss to put your foot down on the situation. “Groceries or dinner or petrol money, please.” You weren’t above begging Lando to let you contribute, feeling bad that he had even paid for you this far into the holiday.

“You being here is more than enough of payback, baby, don’t worry about it,” He shook his head, knowing he wouldn’t dare take so much as a penny from you. “Fuckin’ hell, I’ve got money to burn being here - I’d rather it went to your pretty face than mine.”

“Mhm, your chauffeur wages sure do keep you humble, don’t they?” You rolled your eyes at his ego, something you had grown accustomed to over the past few days.

“You know it,” He let a moment of silence pass, a beat and then another, before he spoke again so you would understand his serious tone. “But, you’ll stay, yeah? You’ll unpack all of your stuff and take over my bedroom, and let me use your moisturiser, please.”

“Are you begging me, Lando?” You couldn’t help but tease him, even though you knew how serious he was trying to be.

“I’ve done it before, haven’t I?” He shrugged his shoulders, not caring in the slightest if you were to make fun of him. He wanted you there and he was making that clear - his nonchalantness more than forgotten.

“I’ll stay, though. Sounds like a dream to have a couple more weeks here.” 

[clawsdevour]

seasons

wc: 1.8k content warning: iwaizumi x reader, fluff, a bit of angst, confession, not proofread

note: if u can't tell.. i was lowk inspired by wave to earth's seasons b/c i recently went to their concert a few days ago!!! (IT WAS LIFE CHANGING *REAL*)

۶♡ৎ *.

Ever since your first year at Aoba Johsai high school. You always found this guy on the volleyball to be very cute, and sweet despite only seeing and talking to him a few times. Now that you’re starting your second year at Aoba Johsai, you can’t help but feel ecstatic and always nervous around him now that you share classes with Iwaizumi!

The moment you slid open the door to stride into your scheduled class, you huff out a loud sigh to clear your mind. Unprepared to see the new faces that could possibly be in your class this year made you nervous but excited to see how the year would unfold as the seasons flew by. 

That humid summer air when your fingers gripped onto the door handle, wafting in the moment you opened the door to see a pair of familiar eyes staring at you across from the window seat. 

His tan skin, and dark brown hair followed by his beady eyes narrowing at you as his hand was placed right under his chin. It was Iwaizumi Hajime, your long term crush from last year in the same class as you. Someone you thought you’d get over until he popped up again, for another year, maybe even two.

Looking at the board, your assigned seat was.. right next to him. Maybe that’s why he was staring at you, you thought as you gulped in anxiousness. Stepping over as your shoes clacked against the smooth floor, pulling out your chair to sit next to him. 

Your mind raced with trivial questions that arose. What if he finds me weird? Do I look okay? Does he know me already? What if he’s that type of guy to not talk to his desk mate!?

Looking at him from the side of your vision, he’s so much cuter up close it makes your stomach flutter while you try to keep your best posture in check, acting as if he’s observing you.

“Um.. Hi,” his low voice spoke to you, a hand waving to grab your attention.

“Hi..” reciprocating his greeting.

“I’m Hajime Iwaizumi” giving you a subtle warm smile, “Oh! I’m y/n.”

That’s how you two began your friendship that grew over the four seasons that passed on by. At the end of summer when school started was when you first actually met him. During this time, you found out multiple things you never expected to know about him like how he acts during class, his study habits, his overal likes and dislikes, and how he looks at you when he thinks you don’t know that he’s staring.

You two grew rapidly fast. Starting off as classroom partners, not just because you’re deskmates, but also because you two didn’t know anyone else in your class. It was like the school really set you two up with your classes because you’re stuck with him for the whole year. 

Winter was when he found out that you two walk the same way home, thinking that you were just a familiar figure walking ahead of him until he caught up with you one day. That way, he started to walk a bit longer to drop you off home to ensure that you make it back home safe and sound. 

Things went great for the time being, as you two started to hang during lunch sometimes, and after school as well. Though, that was until Iwaizumi introduced one of his bestest friends from the same volleyball team as him into the picture.

Whenever you two hung out, he’d invite Oikawa Tooru. Sure, he was popular but that didn’t really appeal to you. Nor how Oikawa really acts, even if he was silly because you already have this established liking and developing feelings for Iwaizumi.

At the end of winter, the two started to get more busy practicing for boys’ volleyball season. You couldn’t lie, it felt lonely walking home alone most days. You missed Iwaizumi’s warm and comforting presence that walked by your side, but at least you still got to talk to him every minute in class.

Though, Iwaizumi did act a bit off at this point. As if something at the bottom of your stomach was telling you there was something going on because of the attitude he started coming off as.

Getting to class just a bit earlier than him, you sat and waited until he came. His face is dull and the smile he gives you just wasn’t like his regular ones. His body language is exuding exhaustion and he carried himself as if he were limp.

“Hey,” he’d say under his breath, as if he didn’t wanna talk to you like he always does.

At some point you were fed up with this. You couldn’t grasp onto why he’s been acting this way. Was it because of volleyball season that’s stressing him out? Though, that couldn’t be the case because Oikawa acts like usual taunting brat he is. So why is Iwaizumi upset and grumpy?

“Uh– hey” trying to respond with less energy than you usually do in case he was having an overall bad day.

Your head was throbbing from over contemplating his actions that took a turn for the worse. He wasn’t just like this now. It seemed as if something was getting in between your friendship. And it all started when he brought in Oikawa.

Spring rolled by, but you still couldn’t put a finger on why Iwaizumi’s behavior changed so quickly. Now, he can barely keep eye contact with you. The only time he does is when he asks for help on classwork and it is driving you absolutely nuts.

The next time you hang out with him, you’re gonna give him an earful. Though, looking at how rocky your friendship had become, at some pint you started to believe that there wouldn’t be a next time.

That was until you spotted Oikawa and Iwaizumi leaving practice early. Taking this chance to see what’s up and just chat while walking home like usual, you skipped over to catch up with them. Iwaizumi’s still giving you the cold shoulder with his stern facial expressions while Oikawa’s cracking up some jokes on the side to accompany you.

“I’ll just walk home alone… Oikawa’ll walk you home,” Iwaizumi dryly said, breaking up the conversation while knowing that you and him always took the same way home whereas Oikawa’s house was in the opposite direction.

“Fine by me!” Oikawa bubbly cheered like always.

“No, that's not happening. Don’t leave me alone with this doofus, Iwa!” you teased at Oikawa, coming to a halt when you saw Iwaizumi storming ahead of you two.

“Look. Just go, I’ll be fine” Iwaizumi demanded with a furious tone, looking back with his eyes squinted in anger.

“Oikawa.. you should probably go. I can just walk with Iwaizumi since we’re headed the same way” just slightly nudging Oikawa to urge him over to his side of the neighborhood.

Shrugging before he walked off alone, Oikawa left the premise as you two watched his chestnut hair start to fade off the more steps he took. The silence between you and Iwaizumi was absolutely killing you just before you heard his irriated tone switch back to his low voice that you longed to hear.

“I’m sorry I’m acting like this. It’s foolish of me,” staring down at your shoes before tilting his head up at your puzzled face that tried to understand what he was implying.

“No no, you’re- you’re fine..” waving away his apology, though still skeptical for what he’s apologizing for.

“I can’t do this anymore. I like you, but I see the way you talk and laugh with him,” dropping his shoulders along with his head as he mumbles from under his breath.

Your mouth is dropped dead onto the ground in astonishment from what you’re hearing. Iwaizumi likes me back..? Is Oikawa really the reason why he has been acting like this these past few weeks? Your mind ran in circles, circulating an answer as you squirmed in surprise.

“W-What do you mean..?” trying to understand what he’s thinking about you and Oikawa.

“It’s obvious. You like Oikawa and he probably likes you back. It’s totally okay to just reject me because you like him, he’s a great guy and you two would make a good match..” avoiding all eye contact with you as his eyes avert to look behind you. The wave of sadness flushing over his complexion made your heart break just looking at him because you’ve never seen him in this state before.

“NO! That’s not it Iwa..! You don’t get it,” grasping onto his biceps to pull his forlorn face closer to yours as you tried to knock some sense into him.

“If I can’t be your love, I’d still be by your side.. I’d give you my life because I love you, just know that” finally locking eye contact with you as his eyes glossed with the tears starting to swell up.

“Are you crying? Are you stupid Iwa..? The only person here that I like here is you!” almost shouting in his face.

His eyes widened in revelation. How could he be so naive? The way you act around Oikawa was only to match with his energy, not to indicate that you liked him back. Of course, that was the answer, how could Iwaizumi not know?

The only person you gave extra time to was Iwaizumi and him only! It only started to get rocky when Oikawa was brought into the picture because Iwaizumi thought that you got along so well with him so he can introduce you to his best friend, which was not the case at all from the start. 

“Me? But what about how you approached me? I even introduced you to Oikawa because I thought you wanted to get closer to me to get closer to Oikawa,” questioning how you had different energy levels that switched between him and his friend.

“See, I only acted normal around Oikawa because well, he’s just like that. You on the other hand, I just can’t stop tensing and getting nervous around because I actually like you. I don’t wanna mess up in front of you because I want to show you the best version of myself! So much that sometimes I end up saying nothing at all..” sliding your hands down to hold his as you swung them around confessing how you really felt with Iwaizumi.

“Oh really?” looking up to see him a simple small smile plasted pressed against his lips.

“Yeah..” his infectious toothy grin starting to appear when you exchanged eye contact.

“My love?”

masterlist here

[crownedinmarigolds]

**PLEASE NOTE: The prices have been changed as of 01/26/2025. These prices are no longer accurate to what I am charging!**

Hello all! My commissions are being re-opened after my lil summer step-away! Thank you to everyone who has previously commissioned me or wants to commission me, you all mean the world to me and I'm so grateful! I had a super great break and am ready to get back to the grind! ~ ~ ~ Updated information for post break - I am officially using KO-FI's commission tab to keep track of how many slots I have for each type, as well as occasionally introduce a different style or so if I feel like it/come up with one. This is to make things easier for me in regards to tracking, and to make things more visible to you all so you know how busy or available I may be!

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[edb954]

Because you love me… (Coriolanus Snow x Fem! Reader)

(Heavily based on a TikTok Audio!)

Masterlist : Request Info

(Summary: Coriolanus and you were in love that was until you found out he had killed Lucy Gray & Sejanus. That's until you meet again 3 years later)

Word Count: 845

(Warning: Bad Writing💀,Typical Hunger games themes, guns mentioned, Sejanus and Lucy Gray death mentioned, sexual themes)

~~~~

   You loved him but when you found out he had killed Lucy Gray and sent Sejanus to the hanging tree. You hated yourself for it. For loving him and caring for him so you ran and hid. One rainy afternoon off a beaten trail you were sure he wouldn't find you. You stayed there for weeks until you thought it was safe and when you finally decided to return back to the covey it turned out he had already been sent home.

  It was 3 years before you saw him again. Somebody had taken interest in one of your fashion pieces a year after he had left. Which had land you in the capital little did they know you had joined the rebellion. You were sick of kids killing kids and for what? What purpose?

  It was a summer night at a gala, when rebels attacked which you had not known was going to happen to busy sewing people's dresses for said event and in your mincts of hiding. Hiding so they don't think you're apart of it but in that very room Y/n would come face to face with Coriolanus the boy she had loved once. Who was now pointing a gun at her.

~~~

"I was wondering when I'd see you again.." Coriolanus said. Holding the gun directly at her. Y/n froze Turing around seeing the scene bestowed upon her.

She remembered when he had promised her that he would never hurt her but a lot can change in just 3 years. Y/n thought for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"You mean you're actually going to kill me?" Y/n said, shaking as she saw Coriolanus pointing a gun at her.

  All he did was stare with eyes that said he would do just that. It had been years since either of you saw each other. Since you left him.. all he could do was stare.

"Well.. go ahead.." She said, looking at him.

  Coriolanus looked at her slightly shocked. But not lowering the gun. "I'll do this my own way..."

"You won't do it.." y/n said, realising the clarity of what they both still felt for each other.. even if they both denied it.

"You can't pull the trigger.."

  Slowly and hesitantly coming in front of him with the gun against her chest.

"You can't pull it because you still love me.." Coriolanus froze, looking her in the eyes.

"I-it takes a very Brave and a Very Cold man to do that...Coriolanus..." Y/n said, now fully in front of him.

  She knew he was cold.. but if he still felt something other that pure hatred he wouldn't do it..

  Coriolanus eyes looked into hers and a million thought running through his head.

"I don't think you can..." y/n said with tears she did not realize perking in her eyes. "Isn't that true?"

  But as the gun stayed where it was Y/n let out a shaky breath before closing her eyes letting the silent tears fall as she awaited the bang that would end it all.. but for her to hear the safety click back on and the gun being pulled away and thrown onto the table nearby. Her eyes widened in shock as she was pulled into a kiss.

  She pushed him away to look at him taking in his features, he had grown more handsome his hair now combed perfectly... but his eyes stayed the same showing the same emotion from those years ago. The love, passion they had once had.

"It's True.." Coriolanus said, almost aggravated and desperate.

   Before he pulled her back into another kiss and she let him even deepen the kiss fuelling the passion. He backed you up into a wall if anyone would come in you would be sheltered. Her leg was on his hip her dress bunched up. Clothes became undone. Panties pushed to the side. Neither of you need to say more. Yes, there was a lot to say but nothing could compare to the raw passionate love that had been lost and was now found. The only sound was from both of your lips. Whether it was from splotchy wet kisses or the pleasure becoming overbearing. You both came undone a short while later.

  Before Coriolanus snuck you both out hand in hand taking you to his private penthouse apartment where the night continued between silky soft expensive sheets. Going into the wee early hours of the morning until exhaustion overtook the both of you. Laying side by side wrapped in each other's arms. Falling into a blissful sleep. Putting the worries of the future behind and basking in each other's embrace. Waiting for morning to come where you had to face reality.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Summer 1987

Pairing: Jim Hopper x College!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Notes: Oh well dang this was longer than I thought it was… doesn’t mean it’s good. But hey it’s longer

Day 4: Fingering

You’d come home to Hawkins for the summer to stay with your Aunt Joyce. Your mother barely wanted you to go, she was sure Joyce had lost it but you were dying to see Will again and next semester wasn’t starting for a while, it was the perfect time to just relax and enjoy yourself.

The first time you see him you’re at the video store with Robin. Will introduced you to all of his friends and in turn their friends and Nancy and Robin turned into your new best friends.

“Who’s that,” You ask, your eyes following the large man as he enters the video store.

“Oh, that’s just Sheriff Hopper” Robin didn’t even look up, too interested in picking the polish from her nails, too busy to realize the way you were practically drooling over the older man.

You hop up on the counter, putting your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands, just… waiting.

He wasn’t there for long, he knew what he wanted to rent and honestly, you’re kind of annoyed, couldn’t he have just stood there like the Adonis he was and stare blankly at the selection in front of him like a normal person.

He comes up to the counter and drops Aliens on the counter. Robin pushes herself up from her seat and chuckles a little as she scans it. He looks over at you for a second, looking you up and down and you give him a little wave with your fingers. He raises his eyebrow and nods at you before handing Robin cash.

“I’m Y/N,” You say a little eagerly and he looks at you again, completely unimpressed and you shy back a little

“I know”

Robin hands him his bag and he swipes a box of Airheads from the rack

“Put it on my bill,” He tells her as he walks out of the store and out of your poor sad horrible miserable life (because he’s not in it)

“Hawkins finest” She drops a few coins in the till for him and shuts it.

“How did he know me?” You turn to her as she sits back down and she shrugs

“News travels fast? It’s a small town. Oh, and you’re Joyce Byers's niece. They’re pretty close, best friends practically, but I secretly think she’s into Karen.”

The second time you see him, you’re all on your way to the pool. You would have driven but Nancy insisted you all needed exercise. You and Robin very loudly pointed out that swimming was exercise as you whined your way all the way to the pool. She walked ahead of you both, dragging you along like two little kids.

“Oh come on! Like this??? Needs exercise!” You gesture to your curvy figure and do a little spin

“This gorgeous piece of ass?” You do a little model walk, closing your eyes as you spin around

“Jesus fuckin-“

You smack into a brick wall and nearly fall on said gorgeous ass. You squeeze your eyes tighter, putting your hands out and bracing for the way you’re going to freaking eat it when you realize you’re not falling anymore.

You blink slowly, opening your eyes as you’re met face to face with a very broad chest. You look up slowly and Jim is staring back down at you. You gulp and give him a sheepish grin.

“Hi”

The girls are completely silent and not helpful in the least. You’d been scarring them for life lately by describing in great detail the things you wanted him to do to you.

“Can you maybe keep your eyes open when you’re walking?” He sets you straight, brushing you off awkwardly and you nod dumbly at him. He puts his hands on his hips and you could literally moan at the pure authority.

“Are you listening?”

“Uh huh” you mumble and he gives you a look that melts you to your core “I-I’ll watch where I’m going. I’m sorry I’ll be more careful”

“Good girl. See! You can listen!”

He says it so sarcastically before walking away from you and over to his truck across the street. He watches you as he starts it up like he’s waiting for you to start walking again. Robin grabs your hand and drags you behind her as Nancy pushes your shoulders.

“He called me a good girl” you laugh deliriously.

The third time you see him is perhaps the most mortifying and best moment of your life. Joyce had taken Will over to Mike's and decided to have a wine night with Karen. Nancy was already with Robin so you said you’d just meet them at her place but you needed to shower first. Just as you’re about to step in, someone decides to pound on the front door like they’re the damn police.

“Are you freaking shitting me” you grumble as you grab your robe and tie it back around your waist, you shut off the water to the oh-so-delightful sounds of them knocking loudly again.

“I’m coming! God hold your horses!” You stomp to the front door and swing it open ready to lay into whatever poor sap decided to interrupt your tiny moment of me time when your heart drops into your ass and probably out of it all the way down to the basement

Okay ew

“You always answer the door in nothing?”

Jim is standing there, looking you up and down just like he had the first day he’d seen you, but you know you had a hell of a lot more clothes on

“Are you gonna invite me in?”

That’s two things he’s asked as you’re still standing there like a wooden dummy.

“O-oh! Uh- um- okay?” You step aside and he walks past, into the house. You shut the door softly and lean against it for a second before turning around.

“Is Joyce here? She told me she’d give me back my record player”

You shake your head, still leaning against the front door, trying to keep the distance between you two. It’s not that you want it, it’s just without it you’d climb him like a fucking tree

“Joyce never mentioned a niece” He breaks the incredibly awkward silence, well awkward on your part at least and you shrug

“Oh?”

“Mhm… didn’t mention she was pretty either”

Heart, meet literally buried under the foundation of this house!

“Y-you think I’m pretty?” You stutter and he grins before reaching into the fridge and pulling out two beers

“That’s what I said” He walks over and holds it out to you.

He’s handing you a beer.

While you’re dressed in only a robe.

“Oh. Okay”

It sounds so stupid when you say it like that. But you feel that electric charge flow through you as you accidentally touch his hand and that’s when you realize

Oh shit, he’s flirting.

You blink slowly for a second while your brain short-circuits. He walks over to the couch and sits down, patting the seat next to him. Your cheeks burn as you come over to the couch and sit next to him. He leans back, putting his arm over the back of the couch, his body angled toward you as he man spreads and oh boy can be man spread.

“I can just wait for her to come home,” He says, tilting his head back and he drinks and you’re left staring at him like an idiot because he even makes drinking look hot.

Okay Y/N. Get a fucking grip please, you beg yourself. You sit back on the couch now and you’re really able to see the size difference between the two of you, considering you’ve never been this close to him in the first place. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, enjoying the way you’re freaking out over him. He hadn’t had that feeling in a while

“See somethin' you like?”

“She’s not gonna be home for a while,” You say, because there’s no fucking way you’re answering that and you think he knows that when he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Is that why you’re naked? What were you doing?”

Your mouth drops open at the insinuation and you finally take a sip of your beer, rolling your eyes.

“I was literally about to get into the shower”

“Oh were you?”

“Yeah! You want proof Mr. Sheriff guy?!” You get up, putting your hands on your hips and he shrugs

“Yeah sure” he gets up and you stumble backward a little “Lead the way”

“Oh I’ll lead the way alright” You grumble, stomping your way to the guest bedroom and opening the door

“See? How nicely my clothes are laid out?” He gives you an amused snort and you slip past him, your body rubbing against his. Your breath hitches slightly but you ignore it for now

“Notice? The turned-on bathroom light? The shower curtain pulled back?” You gesture to it as he leans against the doorway

“Is that enough proof for you?” You sass him, sticking your tongue out and he crosses his arms over his chest with a smirk

“C’mere smartass”

You drag your feet over to him and he stands up, cupping your face and kissing you softly, it’s nothing like you thought it would be honestly. He’s so careful with you like he’s afraid he’ll break you or something. You hold onto the front of his shirt and stand on your toes, kissing him back. He snorts and bends down further for you and you pull away a little

“Asshole”

“Short stack”

“Really- ugly tall guy!!”

“Are you actually five?” His hands go to your hips, pulling you against him and going right back to kissing you. You cup his face now, running your fingers over the stubble and up through his hair. His lips trail down your jawline and he moans quietly.

“Taste even better than I ever imagined”

Your cheeks flush deeply and you pull away again, making him roll his eyes

“You think about me?” You tease, booping his nose and his hands slide down further, squeezing your ass

“Yeah, I think about you,” he says straight out and you giggle, pecking his lips

“Okay cool because I think about you too and I didn’t want it to be weird or something”

“You think about me?”

You don’t like the way he says it like that like he’s surprised by it. Because was it not obvious enough the way you pined after him? Okay actually you’re really glad that it wasn’t obvious because hoo boy would that have been embarrassing and-

He shuts off your thoughts by kissing you again and you sigh softly into it.

“Y-yeah,” you say dreamily, “I think about you s-so much”

He scoops you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you back to your room. He lays you down on the bed, his body easily covering yours.

“What do you think about?” His hand trails over your thigh, feeling the soft skin under his rough palms. He goes back to attacking your neck, leaving a hot trail of hickies behind.

“U-uh I-“ you stammer while his hand comes to the inside of your leg, massaging it gently.

“Use your words, I know you can be a good girl”

He keeps you from squeezing your thighs together at his words and you groan.

“It’s stupid!! Well- some of it” You tell him distractedly

He looks up at you now, propping himself up on his elbow and still massaging the inside of your leg slowly, teasingly

“I’ll tell you if it’s stupid or not”

“And you know I believe that” You glare and he flicks your thigh. You bat at his hands before sighing.

“I- I think about things like- like this? Like…lying in your bed while you tell me about your day and feel me up. Or making out in your truck when you’re supposed to be on patrol”

His hand is coming dangerously close to the apex of your thighs and you’re trying to keep talking but his hand is so large and so warm and you’re getting so dizzy.

“Keep going” his tone is huskier, his lips finding your neck again “Wanna hear your pretty voice”

His hand finally slips under the silk robe and you feel his fingers doing a little teasing dance up to your entrance.

“I-i” you moan softly, “I think a-about sucking your cock, while you tell me how pretty I look on my knees, and I think about just how much you can stretch me out”

You watch as his eyes flow down your body while he listens to you, watching the way your chest heaves in anticipation. He can see your arousal, glistening on your folds. He licks his lips, unable to resist.

“This all for me?” His voice is soft and dangerous against your ear. You nod eagerly, feeling shy suddenly. He pulls his hand away from your thigh and you whine, he shuts you up with a kiss, something you both seem to really like. His hand cups your breast through your soft, silk robe before pulling it to the side and revealing your tits to him. He blinks for a second, like finally the one short-circuiting.

“Like what you see?” You mock him and he huffs, bending down and capturing your nipple between his lips. He sucks on the little nub, feeling it harden against his tongue, he kisses across your bone to your other nipple, taking it into your mouth, he moans as he brings your breasts together, sucking on both of your nipples. You push your tits into his face more and he groans, kissing them all over.

‘Fuck they’re so perfect” He jiggles them in his hands and you giggle, biting your lip as you watch him worship your body. He lays his tongue flat on your nipple, running it up slowly and flicking it. You’re mesmerized by the way he works when you feel his fingers at your entrance again. He pushes his middle finger in slowly and you gasp, your walls clenching around him immediately.

“So fuckin’ tight” He whispers, his tongue circling your nipple, he gives it a little bite and you yelp, while he pushes another finger into your tight little hole, scissoring you open. You hiss at the dull pain and he kisses you, holding his fingers still so you can adjust to them.

“Oh you poor thing’ He grins devilishly “ I think we’re going to need a few sessions before you can take me”

You gasp as he starts to move his fingers, your moans send shivers up his spine and he can feel his cock twitching in his pants.

“You feel that?” He moves so he’s against your thigh and your jaw drops slowly, making a cute little “o” shape

“Holy shit” you mumble and he snickers in your ear, his fingers scissoring again.

“Mhmmm…God, you're so wet for me," he mutters, plunging his fingers in and out, he’s had enough waiting, and wants to see your body come undone for him. You cry out, that dull stinging going away quickly as his fingers curl upward. You writhe underneath him, your hips meeting his hand as he moves his hand faster.

You keen loudly, your back arching off the bed as you cum the hardest you ever have in your life, all you see is white as you cry his name over and over, your hips sinking a little further down his knuckles and stretching yourself a bit more. You sob into the sheets, pulling away from him and rolling over onto your stomach, your body still convulsing slightly with aftershocks. You grind your pussy into the bed, just trying to get yourself to come back down, you cum over the sheets again, this time less intensely and a lot less messy.

You whimper and he reaches for you, pulling you onto the other side of him and cuddling you against his chest.

“Shhhh, baby girl. I'm right here, I’m here with you” He soothes you, his voice thick with lust. You grip his shirt, trying to ground yourself and you’re met with a few wet spots, your eyes fly open and you look up at him, the front of his shirt is soaked. Your mouth drops open again and he snickers, shrugging the shirt off awkwardly and tossing it to the floor.

“I think you got a little excited” He explains.

“Oh my god, I’ve never done that before” you blurt out and he laughs into your shoulder.

“Well, I guess I’m glad I could be your first”

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t- oh my god your shirt I’m so-“

He puts his hand over your mouth and you frown, looking up at him

“That was the hottest damn thing I’ve seen in a long time” He reassures you, looking into your eyes “I could watch you do that all fuckin day”

You pull his hand down “Really?” You say a little excitedly and he nods

“Ain’t nothin sexier than making a woman squirt like that,” He tells you, pulling your body closer and kissing you

“Now why don’t you take a nap”

“I still have to shower… I’m supposed be- oh my god- oh god what time is it?!?!”

He looks at the clock on the nightstand behind you and shrugs “5:30”

“I was supposed to be at Robins an hour ago!”

“Oh nooo…” he says in a whiny fake nice voice and you smack at his chest

“I’m so dead!” You scramble out of bed and he lays back, putting his hands behind his head and watching you get ready to get in the shower

“You want me to call and tell them you’re preoccupied?”

You launch your shorts at him and he snickers, sitting up and reaching for you. You groan and stand between his legs, dropping your forehead against his

“Call your friends, tell them you fell asleep, and go get in the shower” He instructs you, putting his hands on your hips. He stops for a second, pulling you into his lap and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’ve got all the answers huh?” You smirk and he kisses you

“There’s still one question I need the answer to”

“And that would be?”

“When can I take you on a proper date?”

You settle in his lap, tilting your head as you think about it and he starts kissing your neck, his hands coming up your sides and squeezing them gently.

“How about Friday? I can meet you at the station”

“Can’t wait”

[genderqueerdykes]

About passing as male and why not suddenly everything is great when you do:

I usually don't pass in conversations, because my voice gives it away, so the most common passing experiences I have with strangers on the street who just see me.

This first started to happen in the summer after I had top surgery and I mostly noticed, because people started to use homophobic slurs at me that are used for gay men specifically.

In the winter I dress very whatever, sweatpants and whatever keeps me warm so then I had a very different experience, which at first I did not even identify as passing as male.

I noticed people, especially men but all kinds of people, looked at me more angrily, even if walking past a person on the sidewalk was the only interaction. Women and kids however tended to look at me less and occasionally seemed to be scared. I asked a friend about it, cause I thought maybe I was having a mean look on my face without noticing and they, after consulting with some other people, told me: "No, it's because you are passing as a straight (or at least not explicitely queer) man. People feel threatened."

It wasn't anything I was doing either, in fact after my first situation in which a woman on the sidewalk ahead of me faked a phone call and changed sides, because she felt threatened by me walking behind her, I was very carefull not not appear threatening to people. It was just that people thought I was a tall, bulky man and so their default reaction was to feel threatened.

And it sucks, it really does. And when I read takes about this online it also sucks, it's always: "Well you wanne be seen as a man, there you go. You chose this." But like I didn't chose this, I didn't chose for patriarchy to be a thing or for other men to act threatening or actually be violent/dangerous. All those things are social constructs, hierarchies and behaviors resulting out of these, it has nothing to do with how I act.

And it makes it so obvious how made up and arbitrary those hierarchies really are. Cause when it's summer again and I'm in my croptop getting punched by some asshole on the train for being a faggot, it's still me. It's still the same person, acting towards others the same way I always do.

It seems that it's one of the two, either I'm threatening enough to be safe, or I'm not safe.

And it almost makes me feel better going home from being harrased on the train, cause at least I didn't scare some poor woman, who was just minding her business walking on the sidewalk.

thank you for taking the time to share your experience, i really appreciate it. you deserve to be heard, and you deserve to not feel like shit for speaking up about it. take care of yourself

[steviewashere]

I love only child Steve Harrington, but how about I suggest something else that's really angsty? Stay with me here, please.

CW Ahead: Death of a Sibling, Grief/Mourning, Minor Suicidal Ideation, Steve's Sacrifices to Prove Self-Worth

Steve Harrington had a twin. They were identical.

They'd chase each other around in the Indiana sun, when it was at its lowest, grass green in the field, lightning bugs about. Barefoot in the backroads, dust particles, laughing until their stomachs hurt. Riding their bikes up and down their street, seeing who could go faster. Swimming laps in the pool, trying to beat the other.

Their parents are happy. A good marriage. Lovely kids. Living that smooth, good life.

Both of them super young when it happens. He and his twin are roughly...12? 13? Middle school age.

It's another summer night. No school. Not a care in the world. The Harrington family go out of town for a lake house vacation. Steve and his twin swim laps and laps around in the lake.

They've got beach toys, playing in the very little amount of sand. Then, Steve accidentally drops his little plastic shovel into the water. It sinks, or at least begins sinking. His twin tells him to stay out of the water, that he'd go down and retrieve the shovel. His twin had the better swimmer's lungs after all.

But then thirty seconds pass. Forty-five...a whole minute.

Bubbles come to the surface. The water rippling like somebody's thrashing. And then...nothing.

Of course, Steve runs up to the lake house to get his parents. To get help. But he was too late. He couldn't save his brother.

After this, he can't even look himself in the eyes. Can't look into a mirror. After this, his parents grow distant from him. They leave more and more frequently, leave him alone in his guilt. Affairs and arguments...it all happens too frequently now. Steve keeps to himself. He's quiet and weird. Barely has any friends. Won't talk about that summer evening. Won't consider going around a lake again.

But...but then he goes to high school. He tries out for the swim team, just to give himself something to do. It made his dad pay attention to him. It made his parents stay. It made a small part of him proud, when he did good at his meets, when he was eventually given the co-captain spot. He worked as a lifeguard over the summers.

Barb goes missing from his backyard. He isn't aware that she was dragged through the pool. Didn't see it, never knew.

Nancy lives with the same sort of guilt that Steve did. But Steve only knows one way of coping: moving on. Busying his brain with stupid things: drinking and partying and sports and other things that seem meaningless. He seems fine, doesn't he? It's not like he's weighed any of the shit he's been through.

(He is. He won't tell anybody this.)

Dustin asks for his help that one day, the same age as Steve's twin brother was—will forever be. And Steve knows, even if he accepts reluctantly at first, that this is his duty. It's what's going to prove that he can care, that he isn't fucked up over this thing that happened, that he can do better.

Helping where he can, that's what makes him proud. Being somebody to step in, to throw themselves at the danger rather than letting anybody else experience it.

And then Lover's Lake.

He hasn't been out on a lake, not even dipping his toes in the water since the incident. But when it comes down to it, to the group he's sitting on that rickety boat with, he knows he must. He must prove that he can help, that he can swim best, that he can use his skills for good; rather than sitting by, almost uselessly.

He's being dragged back under the surface, something wrapped around his ankle. He's panicking, of course he's panicking—there's questions and broken sentences flashing through his brain: did this happen to him? is this what he felt like? am I going to die like this, too?

For half a moment, he expects to die. He's ready to die. Like maybe dying will break him free from the guilt he's been carrying. Like a cycle will be reset.

He's relieved when he doesn't drown.

Yet, when that demobat releases his throat and he can get enough oxygen to focus on his surroundings, he sees all the others around him in the Upside Down. And he's furious. Furious that they had to go after him, to save his sorry ass. Because, again, he's put himself in a position of complete uselessness.

Always the one needing help, needing to be saved.

He'd rather do it alone. Rather be the bait, the hook line and sinker.

And when the fight is over, when Dustin loses Eddie...

Steve sees himself in Dustin's eyes. Helpless, scared, vengeful—

Guilty.

He considers his new duty to be to actually help Dustin's guilt. To try and make it better. But he's fucking it up, he constantly fucks it up. Just like he did with Nancy. He still can't look himself in the eyes.

Not without seeing his brother's face. Not without seeing scars where he failed to fully protect. Not without seeing Dustin's guilty, angry gaze. Not without seeing himself.

And somewhere along the lines, he knew his self-worth was low. But it's even lower. Like it was when he lost his brother; it shouldn't have been his brother. It shouldn't have been Eddie. It should've been him.

But he doesn't tell anybody this revelation he has. He continues on, life normal, trying to be helpful where he can. No matter how little, no matter how much he must sacrifice.

————

Another version here:

Dustin is guilty because Eddie got so injured, but Eddie's saved by Steve. Steve makes it his only mission in that moment to resuscitate Eddie—he learned CPR after his brother died just in case, he's thankful for his anxious self-nagging.

But Dustin is still guilty and Steve still sees himself.

And Eddie's trying to reassure both of them, but nothing seems to get through. He's the only one who can really see through Steve's cracks, he ends up not liking what he's seeing. Under the surface, Steve is just hollow. Not hollow like he's dumb or boring or unimportant. Hollow like there's nothing keeping him tethered, nothing fulfilling him, nothing to keep him satiated and happy.

Under the surface, Eddie sees a version of a man he doesn't really know. He sees Steve constantly fighting a mental battle, some sort of self-worth argument, some prattle with his own thoughts. He sees a man barely living; he sees a man willing to die for anything.

Again, he ends up not liking what he's seeing.